3
The morning sun was streaming in through the open curtains causing Buffy to blink her eyes repeatedly as she attempted to watch the figure snuggled up beside her. Willow's head was resting on her shoulder, and one of the hacker's legs was thrown over hers causing Willow to lean into her. Her friend was still very much asleep, but Buffy could just barely detect a curvature at the edge of Willow's lips, confirming her suspicion that Willow's was a 'good' very much asleep sleep. Buffy was very much aware of the injury that she had suffered the night before, but the pain was nowhere near where it had been before. One the few perks of being a Slayer, Buffy supposed.
"Mmmm." Buffy looked down at the head nestled on her shoulder when she heard Willow moan and tighten her hold on the Slayer. It looked like somebody was just about ready to wake up, and Buffy was glad. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy lying there holding Willow, but she really wanted to see the girl without being in a state of monumental pain. Monumental pain had a tendency to dull one's senses, and Buffy wanted all of her senses at peak operating capacity.
"That was almost a word," Buffy drawled when she saw Willow start to blink. "What you need know are some vowels. A, E, I, O, and it's time U woke up."
"Wha…" Willow muttered wiping at her eyes and blinking groggily.
"That was better, let's try for two syllables next time," Buffy responded smiling at Willow's not entirely successful effort to wake up.
"Where am I?" Willow asked huskily before raising her head only to meet Buffy's face which was about an inch from her own. "Wha…"
"Do you some sort of aversion to 'T's'?" Buffy asked her brows drawing together curiously.
"Wh…"
"Don't go there," Buffy said cutting Willow off.
"Go where?" Willow asked backing off of Buffy a little.
"I never noticed how completely out of it you are in the morning," Buffy said watching as Willow settled down again, this time on her own side of the bed. "It's…" Buffy stopped and reconsidered her choice of words. "Charming."
"Well, I'm glad you think so because I have absolutely no idea what we're talking about," Willow responded finally fully conscious.
"Alright, let's see here. Firstly, I don't know what. Secondly, we're at Giles' house. Thirdly, don't go saying 'what?' again. I think that about sums it up," Buffy responded.
Willow was quiet for a moment and Buffy knew that she was trying to match her responses to the questions that had been asked earlier. And, she knew from the look on Willow's face that she wasn't being at all successful.
"Your chipper," Willow said finally deciding that de-coding the Slayer's response wasn't worth the effort.
"No, I'm Buf-fy," Buffy responded sounding out her name phonetically.
Willow frowned at the sardonic response, but Buffy could tell that she was amused by the way the corner of her lip twitched. The twitching was a result of trying to suppress a smile, and Buffy knew it.
"You're obviously feeling better," Willow responded the smile finally making its way across her face.
"Yep, better and I are like two pigs in a blanket," Buffy told her shifting her position carefully so that she was directly facing Willow.
"How's your side?" Willow asked raking her eyes over what was visible of Buffy's body. Buffy knew that her friend's extensive searching of her body was due to purely platonic concern, but she felt her body begin to stir and decided that the wisest course of action would what she like to call the 'make her stop that right now' defense.
"It's definitely better than last night," Buffy said drawing Willow's attention back to her face. "Which is not to say that it's entirely of the good," she continued not bothering with her usual 'I am woman here me roar' strength routine.
"Are there any side affects?"
"Not that I can tell," Buffy responded thoughtfully. "But all I've been doing is lying here, so it's kind of hard to tell."
"Let me take a look at it," Willow ordered softly.
Buffy looked at her.
"Bu…"
"Now who has an aversion to 'T's'?" Willow asked smiling.
"I thought you didn't hear any of that," Buffy said stalling.
"Quit stalling," Willow responded.
Buffy didn't move an inch.
"It's nothing I haven't seen before," Willow commented when she realized that Buffy was holding up out of respect to some sort of modesty. The Slayer raised an eyebrow at that. It was true that Willow had seen her at various stages of undress, but she was certain the area that Willow needed to check was going to far surpass those past stages.
"How do you think you got into those clothes?" Willow asked holding Buffy's gaze under the Slayer looked down at her body for what Willow assumed was the first time since waking up because of the surprised look on her face when she saw what she was wearing.
"Transporter?" Buffy asked looking up once again.
"Sorry," Willow responded. "No Scottish men from space had anything to do with it."
"Well, then I guess resistance is futile," Buffy said leaning back. "Go ahead."
Willow reached over slowly and grasped the edge of Buffy's shirt. Lifting up the edge of it she carefully raised the shirt revealing Buffy's abdomen. She gasped.
"I've gotta tell you Will, that is not a confidence inspiring sound. More like the complete opposite actually."
"There's just some…inflammation," Willow responded in what she hoped was a confidant voice. She really couldn't help the gasp, she was surprised when she saw what had happened to Buffy's side over the night. The cut itself was healing nicely, but the skin around it, and dipping down into Buffy's waist band was an angry red colour. It wasn't the like the night before, the skin wasn't warm to the touch, and marks weren't the jagged lines they had been, there were just these intensely red patches spread out over the skin of Buffy's left side.
"Are you sure? Because if you're saying that just to comfort me I'm going to have to get really, really worried," Buffy responded looking down at Willow who had put on her poker face.
"Does this hurt?" Willow asked gently touching one of the red patches.
"Stop that," Buffy said grasping Willow's hand.
"Did it hurt?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"It tickled."
"Oh."
"Now what?"
"I have to see how far down the rash goes."
"Rash? What rash? You didn't say anything about a rash. Who has a rash?" Buffy asked anxiously.
"I meant the inflammation."
"But you said rash, which is it?"
"It's…the redness?" Willow answered though it was really more of a question.
"Redness?"
"Redness."
"What about the…redness, again?"
"I have to check to see how far down it goes," Willow reiterated.
"Oh," Buffy responded realizing the implications of what Willow had just proposed. "Then by all means…be my guest."
Buffy knew that her breathing had quickened and tried to calm down. Willow had just pulled down the waistband of the jogging pants she was wearing, and was now lowering the pants to her ankles. She could see her abdominal muscles quivering, and hoped that Willow wasn't as perceptive to her bodies reactions as she was, cause if she was Buffy knew that she would, in the words of Ricky Ricardo, 'have some 'splaining to do'.
"You know, usually someone has to be cursed for eternity, or buy me dinner before they get into my pants," Buffy joked awkwardly, hoping that it would at least take some of her focus away from where Willow's head was.
Willow looked up at her wide-eyed.
"Joke, it was a joke," Buffy said quickly. "I just meant that one could take advantage of a situation like this, erotically as it were," she continued cursing every syllable that came out of her mouth. "Not that I think you would…or that…I was just…making conversation," Buffy finished lamely. 'That went well,' she thought to herself snidely.
Willow blinked.
"I like cheese," Buffy said at a loss for what else to say.
"I know," Willow responded finally snapping out of whatever trance she had been in during Buffy's little mind fart, and the Slayer was grateful to have the bright doe-like eyes off of her for the time being. What Buffy didn't know was that Willow had been thinking the same thing about her position, and her thoughts had taken the 'erotically as it were' path. She had been still more out of fear that she had been busted, than out of shock from what Buffy had said.
"How's it look?" Buffy asked desperately needing a return to the status quo.
"The 'redness' continues down your leg to about mid-thigh but it stops there," Willow responded pulling Buffy's jogging pants back up. "It's probably just a reaction, either to the bite or to the…treatment," Willow continued shuddering a little at the memory of the way they had to treat Buffy's wound.
Buffy sighed. "That's good."
"Yeah," Willow responded moving back over to her side of the bed.
"Are you hungry?" Buffy asked a minute later. They needed to get out of this room, or more specifically out of the bed.
"Yeah," Willow responded quickly, perhaps too quickly.
"Let's get some grub then…and I've got dibs on the blueberry scones," Buffy said. It seemed to her as if they ended up calling 'shotgun' for just about everything in their lives. Sometimes it sucked to be young.
"You always get the scones," Willow said pouting.
"That's because I've got the stones," Buffy responded.
"What?" Willow asked looking up at her quizzically. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know exactly," Buffy said with a thoughtful expression on her face. "Oh well, race ya!"
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Buffy blinked as she tried to wrap her mind around the events of the past few seconds. She had said 'race ya' to Willow, then she had flung her legs over the edge of the bed with every intention of racing her. Now, she was lying on the floor eating carpet-literally.
"Buffy," Willow said coming around the bed to kneel by her friend. "Are you alright?"
"I think not," Buffy said pushing herself up into a sitting position.
"What happened?"
"I wish I knew," Buffy responded softly. Something wasn't right, she could feel it. Something in her body was off somehow.
"Here," Willow said offering her hand to Buffy. "Let me help."
Buffy grasped Willow's hand and allowed her friend to try and pull her up.
"I'm gonna need a little help here," Willow said when she began realized she was meeting resistance from Buffy's end.
"Willow, stop," Buffy said quietly.
"Why? You just have to…"
"No, just stop, it's not going to work," Buffy responded trying to hold back the bile building in her throat.
"Buffy…"
"No, Will I can't move my legs," Buffy said cutting off the hacker once again.
"What?" Willow asked.
"I can't move my legs, Will. I can't move my legs."
4
Giles remained in the room for a few moments after Willow exited the room and continued to stare at the small figure that lay on his bed. Buffy had said very little since Willow had come to get him, leaving the hacker to do most of the talking. Buffy had spoken when she was spoken too, but had volunteered little more than that. She now lay on the bed completely still staring at the ceiling. Giles sighed, then backed out of the room.
In Sunnydale, when it rained a monsoon was sure to follow.
"We're got to find the demon," Willow said the moment Giles entered the common room. Xander had arrived while Giles was still in with Buffy and was standing slightly behind Willow.
"We've got to calm down," Giles said taking his glasses off. "We can't go rushing into anything."
"Nobody's rushing, we're taking tiny little baby steps here G-man. It's just that the solution isn't exactly playing hide and seek with us. In fact, it's pretty damn simple, we find the demon," Xander responded moving in front of Willow.
"That's not simple, that's suicidal," Giles responded in a more commanding tone than they had heard him use in a while. "If the beast was easily killed we wouldn't be having his conversation, not mention that demons aren't exactly know to be particularly so-operative."
"What we always do," Giles responded sighing. He had thought that the answer was fairly obvious.
"I've got musty texts letters A-E," Xander called moving over to their make-shift study area, otherwise known as the couch.
"Willow," Giles said turning to face the red-head. "I need you to talk to Buffy and try to get a description of what attacked her, and any other relevant information."
"Giles, she's…"
"I know Willow," Giles said wearily. "I know. But the longer we wait, the more her chances for recovery diminish. We've got to move quickly."
Willow merely nodded and started the walk back to the bedroom.
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Buffy's head was turned away from the door, towards the window, and from her position by the door Willow could only make out have of the Slayer's face. The part that she could see, however, held her captive. The pale light of the moon shone through the open window illuminating Buffy's face. Willow thought to herself, that lying there Buffy was the most beautiful and tragic sight that she had ever seen in life. Lying there she looked like a painting by some French artist from the Rocco period-dreamlike, vulnerable, strong, mysterious, beautiful. A vision that left the viewer mesmerized and wondering what exactly was going on inside of that beautiful, tragic mind to produce such a picture of longing and loss. Watching her, lying there looking so small, Willow felt a tear work it's way down her face for what had to have been the thousandth time that day, and like those other times she reached up and brushed it away, resolving not to let another fall, because she had to be strong-she, Giles, and Xander-they had to be strong for Buffy.
She made her way to the side of Buffy's bed as quietly as possible-though she knew the effort was folly since Buffy was certainly aware of her presence the moment she appeared in the doorway. And while Willow knew all of this she still proceeded stealthily, mot wanting to disturb the quiet or break the peace.
She stood by Buffy's bedside for a moment before reaching out ant gently placing a hand on her friend's shoulder.
"I'm back," Willow said softly, even though she was aware of the banality of the statement. She had been in and out of the room all day alternating between spending time with Buffy and helping with the research.
"I gathered," Buffy responded turning her around, finally, to face Willow.
"We…the…Giles is out getting the…thing," Willow said searching for a gentle term for it, "so we should be able to get you out of here by morning," she continued looking at the floor. Some would have found Willow's vagueness confusing, but Buffy had been around the hacker long enough to be able to decipher her babblings anytime or anyplace.
"Is he going to Kramer me, or am I actually going to get one with a joystick and all those other do-dad's?" Buffy asked a small, tortured, smile working it's way across her face. She was after all taking about the appropriation of her wheelchair.
"State of the art, I'm pretty sure you could even launch rockets with this baby," Willow responded with a like expression on her face.
"Rockets, huh? I would have settled for Tetris, but rockets are cool too. I'm sure blowing up vampires makes them just as dead as staking them," Buffy responded.
"Yeah…but littering," Willow responded, her lips curving up in an unconsciously erotic way. Buffy licked her lips.
"That's what we have convicts for," the Slayer responded dryly before turning her face back towards the window allowing Willow to observe her freely.
Willow-standing there in those moments watching Buffy in the moonlight-realized what had been bothering her about her friends behavior the past day. Buffy was perhaps the most passionate person Willow had ever met and could ever expect to meet. There was a sparkly in Buffy's eyes, and an energy that coursed through her and pulsed off of her in waves spilling onto those in her presence, warming them. And even in her darkest hours, when lesser people would give up and stop fighting, choosing instead to allow the waves to wash over them, Buffy remained strong. Sure, sometimes her step would falter, and her fears would rise, but despite that all she would go on. In her there was the heart of a warrior, and it made her fight the good fight, and fight it well. Certainly being a member of the generation she was of, and being a member of the age group she was off, there was a jaded cynicism in Buffy, a kind of sarcastic pessimism about her, but Willow knew that those things were an asset, not a fault. Willow knew that a person without Buffy's sardonic sensibilities could not possibly have existed in the world Buffy occupied. To an untrained-or uncaring-person Buffy could seem cocky, but Willow knew that what they perceived as cockiness was in fact simply confidence, heightened. Buffy had to go into every fight believing that she was to be the victor, or else she would not come out of the fight. It was that defiance, that believe in self, that love of life, that caused that spark in Buffy's eyes. Buffy would die anyway but her way, and if you messed with that she'd knock you down. Slaying, Willow came to realize in those moments, was the only thing Buffy believed in absolutely. That in those dark days it was slaying that both cause and salvation. Slaying was to Buffy what taxes are to the rest of humanity, the only constant in life other than death.
During that day Willow had seen that spark in Buffy's eyes flicker and falter as if it wised to go burn out. She had sensed the horsemen closing in her friend's soul, galloping with their swords raised. And, she realized that Buffy was afloat, unfettered from the one thing she had thought unfetterable, slaying. With a jarring suddenness Willow realized what it was Buffy needed. She needed an anchor, she needed something else to believe in. But who or what would have such audacity to think that they could replace slaying in a Slayer's life?
"Willow?"
Buffy's voice broke the hacker out of her musings.
"What? Yeah?" Willow asked blinking rapidly.
"Have a nice trip?" Buffy asked watching her carefully.
"Sorry. Had a thought and it ran away," Willow responded trying to shake off the lingering effects of her musings.
"Are you going back to the dorm when Giles gets back?" Buffy asked in a carefully measured tone. The last thing she wanted to do was reveal how truly anxious she was at the thought of Willow not being around her. She didn't want to guilt Willow into staying.
"I…Giles when we talked earlier, I asked and he was fine with, I mean he said I could stay…if that's what you wanted…but I think that I should…I mean we both think that staying would be good because of aloneness being bad…which is why…"
"Will?"
"Yeah."
"I want," Buffy responded smiling. "Wasn't really looking forward to the aloneness anyway," Buffy continued. "And you are without a doubt my favorite person to not be alone with."
Willow smiled.
The moment Willow had settled herself into the bed Buffy moved closer to her. Not close enough to touch, but within a sufficient distance to be able to fell each others warmth. She-of course-wanted to do more, wanted to reach out and pull Willow into her body and shower her face in sweet little kisses until they were both trembling. And she-of course-wanted to reveal the deepest secrets of her soul and let all of the emotions that welled in her as she lay on the cold cemetery ground, while watching the distant stars mocking her, be known. She wanted to tell Willow that she loved her. In the words of the poet and with the actions of a lover, she wanted to reveal her love. So she did the only thing she could do. She opened her mouth, paused, then asked.
"Comfy?"
"Snug as a bug in a rug," Willow replied.
"Good."
"Yep."
Silence.
"You look pretty," Buffy blurted out into the silence. She had the subtleness of a marching band, she did.
Willow's eyes widened-the universal gesture of shock.
"…good, you look pretty good all things considered," Buffy went on. Where were her sentiments now? Where were her poetic words, and gentle caresses? I'll tell you…they ran away, and now, Buffy: the vampire slayer-otherwise known as the bravest girl in all the world-was back peddling. She was back peddling like a son of a bastard, and could have given the world's best back peddlers a run for their money. "Not that you don't always look pretty...cause you do…just that with everything that's happened you look just as good. Which is good?" Buffy winced mentally as the words left her mouth. Turning statements into questions was never a good thing, ever.
"I…" Willow started to respond, still somewhat shocked but in a pleasant enough way.
"Right."
"What?" Willow asked. She was fairly certain that she had not finished her sentence.
"Exactly."
"Huh?"
"You're right, it is getting late."
"But I didn't say…"
"Bed sounds good. Sleep it is."
"What?"
"'Night Will," Buffy said pointedly shutting her eyes and praying to God that Willow would just go along with it.
"Good-nightttt," Willow responded drawing out the words in a tone that clearly conveyed she was at a complete lose as to what just happened.