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A Wiccan Gets the Wiggins
(and the girl!)
by badbard
(de_badbard@xxxxxxxxx)
DISCLAIMER:- Buffy and Co are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Inc., and Warner Bros, and are used here for entertainmental, non-profitable purposes.
WARNING:- This story eventually involves two girls getting it on to such an extent that Giles' glasses would be completely fogged up if he got to watch. Which he doesn't. I do
have standards!
To date the story is pretty PG apart from the violence. And blood. And drinking of blood, etc, etc, etc…
Spoilers for every Buffy episode, Seasons 1-3. This takes place immediately after the night
of the so called 'Ascension'. Hence the Scooby Gang have graduated and Summer break has begun.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:- Hi all of those who’ve read this story in the far distant foggy past. I have returned (insert evil laughter here) and hopefully that means this story will continue on to its’ untimely ending. Yes!
I’ve done some extensive editing so there are many small changes throughout. In the essentials though, it’s the same.
FEEDBACK:- The life is in the blood. And the life of fanfiction is in the feedback! Please do send the good, the bad, the comment, the critique, the two cents and the heaped up shovel all my way.
* * * * * * * * * *
1.
I'm just an ordinary witch.
Girl. I meant to say, girl.
Huh. Maybe I'm not quite so ordinary after all.
Although I am as ordinary as it's possible to be in a town like Sunnydale. A town where vampires roam the night looking for a tasty snack and the Mayor's re-election campaign involves devouring the graduating class before they decide not to bother with voting.
It wasn't always like this.
Well okay, maybe it was, but I wasn't aware of it. I was sorta worried about being served
up as lunchtime's mystery meat by the loony cafeteria lady and I was sorta not ever visiting my
grandmother's grave 'cause I didn't want to trip over a newly rising corpse, but reciting the periodic table of elements always helped some.
Then Buffy arrived and with her awareness.
On a whole heap of levels!
Buffy's the Slayer you see and that means she's like this glowing white light and all the
vamps and demons are like the moths who head straight for the enticing heat even though they know they're gonna get burned.
When I first met her I felt exactly the same way.
I didn't know if I could stand the wonderful warmth that emanated from Buffy. Her sensual smile burned me. Her offer of best-friendship lit me up. Her casual power made my heart go pitter, patter, thump, thud, thunk, and my vision go all blurry.
Buffy's really something.
Wish I could screw up the courage to tell her that.
Maybe next year. Or the year after that. Or even the year after that. We've got our whole College life ahead of us!
"How's my favorite Wiccan."
Only one person asks questions without the proper use of a question mark.
"Oz!"
I spun around and blinked down into his chocolaty brown eyes. Oz is my boyfriend, my First
and my fuzzy were-wolf chew-toy. He has way cool hair, he's in a band and most importantly he's totally gaga over me. At least that's what he occasionally tells me. It's not like I could tell from his
expressions or anything.
"How's your holidays so far," he asked.
When is he gonna stop this punctuation abuse?!
"Considering it's only the first day it's been pretty uneventful," I bubbled back. "Except for the school exploding last night. That hits a big seven on my eventful list."
"Yesterday was eventful," Oz agreed. Then he smiled at me in that adorable were-puppy way he has and I turned into Willow-goo with titanium highlights.
Yesterday I had been with someone for the very first time. I had been touched and yes, I had even done some reciprocal touching! I had been made to feel special and wanted and all brand-new and shiny inside, and I loved Oz for it.
"I wanna go back to yesterday," I told him a bit breathlessly as he leaned closer to me. His hair was russet red today and matched mine.
"Except for the monstrofic demon mayor chowing down on fellow students that is and except for the school burning down, no wait, I think I actually liked the school burning down bit, it was rich with analogies..."
Oz kissed me.
My jumbled thoughts faded into a pleasant buzz as I returned the roving pressure of his
mouth on mine. His arms came around me and I snuggled into him, resting my head contentedly on his shoulder.
That was when I found myself staring into the familiar cloudy-blue eyes of my very best friend as she watched us from across the street. For some reason she looked a little lost. I could read it in
the way her shoulders hunched slightly beneath her leather jacket and her hands moved restlessly inside the pockets of her cargo pants.
"Buffy," I called, breaking away from Oz and crossing the street to meet and greet her.
"Will," she said tonelessly and I immediately went into full worry mode.
"C'mon Buffy, let's walk and talk," I decided, boldly linking her arm through mine and dragging her away from Oz who just stood there shaking his spiky head after us, giving me a goofy look of lurve.
"Now tell ol' Willow what's wrong," I ordered her as we headed into the graveyard which was probably the most private place in town, apart from the nosy stench of the waking undead.
"Nothing's wrong," she sighed, as her eyes darted from tombstone to tombstone by force of long habit, scanning for potential slayage material.
"Angel?" I asked tentatively.
"Gone," she answered listlessly.
"Good!" I burst out, much more harshly than I had intended.
Gosh, I hadn't intended to burst out anything at all. Buffy's brow crinkled in confusion
as we came to a stop and I was forced to rack my brains for a plausible explanation for my reaction.
"Dead-boy was a dead-end," I spat. And promptly covered my mouth in horror. I couldn't believe I was saying this out loud. Maybe I was dreaming. Only, if I was dreaming, why wasn't Buffy stripping? So I couldn't be dreaming. Darn it!
"Will," said Buffy slowly, reaching out to grip my shoulder so I was forced to face her, "Why do I get the feeling you don't like Angel much?"
"That's ridiculous," I declared, folding my arms stubbornly, trying to dig myself out of a shallow
grave. "What's not to like? The fact that he's a demon on the side and that makes it okay for him to torture Giles and k...k...kill Miss Calendar? Or the fact
that he
had the Slayer hanging on his every whispered word and he just stalked away from the best thing that could ever happen to anyone?"
Buffy's jaw clenched.
For a terrible moment I didn't know whether she would push me away or burst into
tears. I didn't give her the opportunity to act. Instead I wrapped my arms around her stiff body,
encircling her shoulders, and fitting myself in close to her when pulling her towards me had no effect. I desperately wanted to ease her pain.
She stood there trembling. Instinctively I began to rub my hand up and down her back in a soothing motion, following the advice of my inner Slayer manual.
Ever so slowly the unbearable tension that was Buffy began to relax into me, muscle by muscle, until I was responsible for keeping her upright as she wrapped her arms around my neck and began to sob silently into my chest.
"Buffy," I whispered, stroking my fingers through the downy hair at the nape of her neck. "I'm here, Buffy. I'm always here for you, Buffy. It'll be okay. I'm here."
"
I chalked another one up for
Buffy is notoriously stubborn when it comes to hiding her problems, pretending she can handle all this hairy stuff that even a card shark couldn't deal with. Last time she had 'Angel trouble' she totally wigged on us, packing her bags and high-tailing it outta town without so much as a, ‘I love you too, Willow.’
I couldn't face that happening again.
I can't face losing her from my life.
"I'm better off without him, right?" she asked me tremulously as her sobs subsided into noisy hiccups. "Maybe the Mayor was right about us..."
"What do ya mean, 'maybe'?" I interjected, as the old Angel-animosity reared its’ green-eyed monstrous head.
"Sure our ex-mayor was an evil demon wannabe, but he was a SMART evil demon wannabe. He knew a thing or two or three, let me tell you, oh yes!"
My best friend pulled back to study me, her face endearingly blotchy. My body ached everywhere Buffy's body had been.
"I don't get it, Will. You were always the big Angel-advocate. Where's all this coming from?"
"I just think you're better of without him," I mumbled, suddenly ashamed to look Buffy in the eye.
She loved Angel; I knew that better than anyone. She had begged him to stay with her. Of course, he'd had his reasons for leaving, good reasons even, reasons like him being a couple hundred years old and bonafide slayage material no less!
I applauded his reasons. I applauded his leaving. I hoped he would never come back.
How could he just leave Buffy, my beautiful bestest friend Buffy, alone and crying for him, while
he happily headed out of town like he was going to go star in his own show or something!
"You never told me that before.” Buffy was probing.
I winced a little. "You never asked."
We stared at each other, at a complete and utter loss at what to say next. At least I was at a loss.
Buffy just looked confused and slightly thoughtful and tired and pale and very, very sad. My heart hurt for her.
"Buffy," I said softly. "You need sleep. We all need sleep, even big bad slayers, especially big bad
slayers and as I'm pretty darn sure you didn't sleep any last night, I'm taking you home and putting you to bed."
It was just about as authoritive as I could be and secretly I was proud of me. Buffy blinked at me a
couple of times, probably struggling to process what I had just babbled.
"Okay," was her weak response.
"Good," I said firmly, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her other arm to rest over my
shoulder. "Good, very good. It's good that you listened to me just then. You should do that more
often."
"I always listen to you, Will," she protested, readily accepting my offered support as we turned towards my house.
"Really?" I asked, pleasantly surprised.
"Really," she confirmed, a small smile flitting across her exhausted features.
"Good," I said again and she had the gall to smirk at me.
* * * * * * * * *
2.
Getting Buffy up the stairs and into my bedroom was not exactly an easy task. Some time after we started for my house, she actually leaned against me for real and let me tell you, muscles weigh.
While I enjoyed having her close, I could feel a wigging coming on. Buffy had escaped unscathed from the Ascension but she sure wasn't acting like her usual 'I'm so tough I don't need anybody but Mr Pointy' self.
I knew some of her emotional stressing was to do with Angel's sudden absence and some more of it had to do with Faith lying in a coma, but did that account for this lapse in the front she was known to maintain?
"C'mon Buffy," I panted, feeling my grasp on her waist starting to slip as she struggled to climb
another stair. We were half way up and she was definitely starting to lose her focus. Her eyes were half shut, her head was all droopy and I was having a hard time just stopping her from falling backwards.
"What does Mrs Summers feed you?" I muttered as Buffy came to a complete stop.
"Tastes like chicken," Buffy slurred and then she sat down, just like that.
"Okay Buffy, we have a problem here," I started, trying to tug her back up. "Gotta climb these stairs and you're just sittin' there like a lazy-assed Slayer, acting all drugged out I might add and how the heck am I supposed to get you into my bed?"
"Ooh sez we need ah bed?" she mumbled and I blushed straight to the red roots of my hair.
Fortunately Buffy was beyond commenting coherently at this point.
"Buffy, you have to get up," I pleaded. "Something's wrong and I need to get you safe in bed so I can call Giles on speed-dial and tell him to get his books that didn't burn over here pronto, and while I'm at it I might as well call 911 or maybe the de-tox
center,
'cause you're acting really high, and not in a healthy high-spirits kinda way. Have you been drinking?"
"Too muny qhestionz." Her head drooped some more.
"I only asked one question," I protested, crouching down next to her and cupping her chin in an effort to see if her pupils were dilated. Of course her eyes were closed at this point so I took the opportunity to study her feathery gold lashes instead.
"Buffy," I whispered, fumbling around until I found her clammy hand and held it in mine. "Buffy, what's wrong? Are you sick? Did you get hurt? Tell me what to do and I'll do it!"
In answer she fell forward against me, as out of it as a newly staked vamp. I cradled her limp form, running fingers through her silky hair anxiously as I scanned the immediate area for a miracle.
The doorbell rang.
"Oh wow!" I screeched, settling Buffy down so she was leaning securely against the rail. "It's my miracle!"
I sprinted downstairs to fling the door wide open. Xander Harris looked behind himself then looked back at me again with a raunchy grin.
"Well, Will, I guess it IS me you've got the happies to see!"
"Xander," I gasped, hauling him inside by his collar.
"Whoa," he yelped, as I slammed the door behind him. "I know I'm hoping this has something to do with more naughty touching."
"It's Buffy," I gasped back.
"Buffy wants to do some naughty touching? I'm up to it." He gave a mock-leer.
"No," I glared back, wishing my other best friend could be serious occasionally. "Something's wrong with her. I think she might be hurt. I don't know what..."
"Hurt how?" he interrupted anxiously.
"Uh I dunno," I explained. "One minute she just looked tired - the next she's collapsing all over me and she's up
there if
you want to tell me whether you can smell alcohol on her breath."
Xander lost no time in bounding up the stairs to smell Buffy's breath.
"Hey, Buffster," he called, stroking her cheek with the back of one hand. I felt an unreasonable surge of jealousy.
It's just that I've spent so long thinking Xander was the one I wanted and so long discovering that Buffy is the one I need that the thought of the two of them having smoochies is unbearable.
There was no response and Xander staggered to his feet with Buffy in his arms.
"Will, better call Giles," he called down as he tried to kick in my bedroom door. I raced to the phone and rolled my eyes as I watched him realize that putting Buffy down so he could turn the
handle was much more productive.
"Good morning, Giles here," said a clipped English accent into my ear. I started, spinning around
expecting to see the Watcher beside me, then remembered the phone and hit myself in the head. After my temple stopped throbbing I managed to stammer back:
"B...Buffy's really out of it, Giles and we don't know what to do and..."
"Calm down,
I hung up and raced back upstairs, relieved to see that Buffy was at last between the sheets and thankfully, still fully clothed. Xander perched next to her, flashing me a worried look as I joined them.
"Major temptation zone," he joked, referring to Buffy in bed with a wave of his hand.
"Sure is," I replied feelingly, going crimson as I felt his dark eyes skitter back to rest on me.
"Uh, Will, don't get my hopes up like that," he wisecracked at last. "You know that kinda situation
has inhabited my most graphic fantasies for a couple years, only Buffy was awake and kicking and the noises...oh the noises!"
"What noises?" I asked suspiciously, secretly wondering how Xander, my childhood buddy Xander, would really react faced with that kind of...graphic fantasy. After all, he did seem to have breathing trouble wi
th
gayness in general and a footballer named Larry in particular.
"Panting, moaning, screaming, howling...oh wait, the howling would be in YOUR fantasies, Will."
I glared.
"Where was I?" he murmured. "Oh yeah, panting, moaning, squelching, loud kissing sounds and of course the calls of, 'Oh Xaaaanderrrrr, come join us!'"
"In your dreams!" I gasped indignantly. His face fell a little and he muttered back, "yeah, that's where it's generally done."
"I can't believe you, Xander," I grouched, glad that he had stopped mentioning squelching noises. "Buffy is sick and all you can think about is..."
"Sick?" slurred the Slayer from her pillow as she struggled to push herself into a sitting position.
"Buffy's no sick. Feel f...fine. Slayer-fit." With that she clutched at her head with both hands. "Oh
God."
"Buffy?" I asked softly, moving to pry her hands away from her temples. "Where does it hurt?"
"Where she was holding her head," pointed out Xander all too reasonably.
"Shut
up, Xander," we bit back in unison. He subsided.
"Buffy?" I prompted.
"Wherein hellmouth ahm I?" she muttered through teeth clenched against some pain that she obviously thought was beneath a Slayer to let on about.
"My bed," I told her gently, placing my hands on her shoulders and pushing her back down not so gently. At first she resisted but in her weakened condition, I, scrawny little
Actually it sorta shocked me that she went down so easy and when I glanced sideways at Xander I could tell he was surprised too. Being able to beat a stubborn Slayer is not a good sign. Even when a Slayer's injured she's supposed to be able to deal with the undead scum clawing at the bottom of the demonic food chain. And they’re a lot stronger than me.
"Faith," she whispered suddenly staring right at Xander and reaching out to run a shaking hand down his arm. "You're alive."
"I say crazy juice was involved," decided Xander, looking to me for help. "A whole lotta crazy juice. What's your diagnosis Dr Rosenberg?"
"You were right," husked Buffy, moving her hand to rest on his belly. "The Mayor had a weak link in his chain and when I yanked it he was ripe to be cut."
"Is it just this confused and slightly aroused guy
or is
Buffy missing a link in her own chain right about now?" Xander asked me.
I was too busy staring at Buffy to reply, wondering why she was having a fantasy of Faith
and more importantly, why she was touching Faith's stomach.
"I'm so sorry about this," admitted Buffy, still fingering Xander as tears began to form in her hazy
eyes. My eyes widened as I put two and two together and remembered Faith's knife wound.
"So sorry I didn't know it was possible to be this sorry." Buffy's blond head cocked slightly as she listened to a reply only she could hear. "I don't want you to go," she whispered finally, bowing her head and clutching her arm back to herself. "Stay with me?"
"Alrighty then!" I gasped, leaping to my feet and addressing the air. "This has gone far enough!"
"I'll say," agreed Xander, hands on stomach. "If it goes any further I'm gonna have to leave to protect my not-so-innocent desires."
Giles chose that moment to enter, huge musty book under one arm, huge spotted handkerchief in the other, which he was using to mop his sweaty forehead.
"I came as fast as I could," he told us, crossing to Buffy's side. "How is she?"
"Experiencing all the happies of an outer-body trip to loony land," explained Xander, as he
moved to
make room for the Watcher. Giles arched an enquiring eyebrow at me.
"Uh, she's talking to Faith?" I hazarded. "And touching her. Groping her really. Do something!"
Giles blinked at me.
"I experienced the touching first-hand," volunteered Xander. Giles had the good grace to blink at him instead.
TBC in 3.
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