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In retrospect, Jenny probably should have figured out that something was up when Willow asked to come by “while Giles wasn’t there.” Conversations with both Jenny and Rupert were always more pleasure than business, but conversations with Jenny alone were always more business than pleasure. Somehow, when Jenny hadn’t been paying attention, she had become Willow’s…well. There was definitely a word for what Jenny was to Willow these days, but Jenny was so not ready to deal with that yet, so she’d settled on “closest adult female confidante” and ignored the extremely amused looks Rupert shot her every time she referred to herself as such in casual discussion.
Anyway. As Willow’s closest adult female confidante, the phrase “while Giles wasn’t there” really should have set off some alarm bells in Jenny’s head, but she’d just spent two hours trying to talk Xander out of leaving Spike with them for the night, and then subsequently trying to talk Rupert down from slowly and systemically setting Spike on fire. (The energy in their house was really off these days.) By the time she had all but shoved Rupert out the door for his Jenny-imposed daily walk—she was not letting him turn into some misanthropic stay-at-home dad who yelled at the television and spent multiple hours day-drinking and/or stress baking—it was all she could do not to burst into extremely angry tears when the phone started ringing.
Sticking his head into the kitchen, Spike said very politely, “Didn’t mean to add to the stress, Ms. Calendar, only your boyfriend’s a blithering idiot.”
Jenny reached into the nearby fruit bowl and threw an avocado at him. It missed. “Why are you like this,” she said. “Why can’t you just be—nice.”
Spike gave her a very long, flat stare, said, “Think you might want to really consider that question a bit more,” and left the room like he was somehow the put-upon one in this situation. Jenny spent another two seconds debating the maturity of stalking down the hall after him and pelting him with avocadoes before the phone rang again, at which point she sighed and picked it up. “Vampire insane asylum, idiot nurse on duty,” she said.
“…Does that imply that you’re a nurse who’s an idiot or that you’re nursing idiots?” asked Willow with some bemusement.
“I honestly could not care less,” said Jenny. “Is Buffy there? Can you ask her to try and kill Spike again?”
“O-oh, um, Buffy’s actually…out?” Willow sounded unusually nervous. “I-I have a, I mean, I’m with my, my friend, Tara, she—well, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Giles is out on his walk right now, right?”
“…Yeah,” said Jenny slowly.
“Good! I mean—um, I kinda wanted to come by while Giles wasn’t there, so—well, Ms. Calendar, are you free right now? To talk? Probably outside in the courtyard or something, seeing as you and Giles have the whole vampire roommate thing going on.”
“A ROOMMATE,” said Jenny very loudly, “would pay RENT.” Spike stuck his head back in, gave Jenny an appraising look, and slapped a five-dollar bill down on the counter. “That is NOT—”
“—okay great bye!” squeaked Willow, hanging up the phone.
“Witch coming over?” said Spike. Jenny threw another avocado at him. He grinned very broadly, said, “Good talk, Calendar,” and left the kitchen.
Willow arrived looking flushed and nervous, wearing yet another one of the hand-me-downs that she’d covertly borrowed from Jenny’s closet. She gave Jenny a quick, stiff hug at the door, which wasn’t exactly usual either; after three years of Scooby meetings and late-night hot chocolate, Willow was not at all stingy with hugs when it came to Jenny. Nervously, she looked around the room, then said, “Um, Spike—”
“Oh, his soaps are on,” said Jenny dismissively. “Unless you say something mean about Passions, he’s not gonna give a damn.”
This didn’t seem to comfort Willow. “But if he does hear something—”
“Do you want to step outside?”
Shakily, Willow nodded. “…Maybe a little.”
It was beginning to dawn on Jenny that there might be something going on with Willow—the kind of thing that she would obviously want to turn to her, um, closest adult female confidante to discuss. God, this was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea. Most of Jenny’s college-related life advice was along the lines of “don’t do drugs and try blood rituals for the first time on the same night." Willow should be going to an actual adult, a woman with life experience and parenting know-how, her—word that Jenny wasn’t thinking about right now. Coughing awkwardly in an attempt to disguise her slow but very real panic, Jenny said, “Okay, so. Outside. We can go there now.”
Willow was evidently very discombobulated; she hadn’t noticed Jenny’s obvious nerves at all. She followed Jenny somewhat gratefully into the courtyard, looking anxiously around as though expecting someone to be listening in the bushes, and sat down only when Jenny had found a seat a good distance away from the apartment. If Rupert arrived back anytime soon, he’d see them, but he wouldn’t be close enough to hear them. “Um,” she said, twisting her hands in her lap and staring down at them. Her choppily-cut hair fell to hide her face. “Th-there’s—I wanted to talk to you about. Something. It’s not—I mean, it’s not big, it’s just—well, you know how you said I should try joining the Wicca circle at college, meet some girls my own age who know a little more about magic?”
“Yeah, we talked about that,” said Jenny slowly. “Didn’t you say that that whole thing was kind of a bust?”
“Kind of,” said Willow. “I—” She took a nervous, steadying breath, then looked directly up at Jenny. “Ms. Calendar, did you ever…experiment…in college?”
The question took Jenny by surprise. She reminded herself with firm patience that Willow had brought up the question in a magical context, and was therefore asking about magic, and likely would be incredibly flustered to hear about any sexual experiences that may or may not have happened between, for example, herself and a very pretty girl in her Comp Sci class (as well as the knowledge that what had been an “experiment” for said girl had been more of an “awakening” for Jenny). “Um,” she said. “To some degree? I mean, I knew a few girls in my dorm who were into the same kind of stuff I was, so sometimes we’d all meet up and—” Willow had gone bright red. “Cast…spells together. Willow, are you okay?”
“A few girls?” Willow squeaked. “Like, more than one?”
Bemusedly, Jenny said, “Willow, you’ve cast spells with more than one person before.” When this observation was met with only articulate stammers, she patiently elaborated, “You know, that time I helped you with the resouling ritual, that time we brought Amy in and—”
“But that wasn’t—you know—casting spells,” said Willow significantly, “that was just regular old spell-casting! Were you casting spells with different girls at the same time?”
Willow, Jenny reminded herself. Willow, who looked like she wanted to curl up and die when you asked her if she was using condoms with Oz. At this point, though, it was pretty hard not to read between the lines here.
“Um, that—don’t answer that, actually,” said Willow hastily. “I just wanted to know if—I mean, when you were casting spells in college, was there ever—” Steadying herself, she tried again. “So you know how you do magic with Giles—like, you know, that one time you two did some tantric sex ritual that we weren’t supposed to know about—”
Jenny buried her face in her hands.
“But you also used to do magic with all those techno-ladies you introduced me to last year!” Willow finished anxiously. “And I know that it’s okay to do both, I mean, you taught me that—”
“I taught you what?” said Jenny weakly.
“—but I-I don’t know if I like…doing magic…with guys,” Willow finished.
Jenny stared at Willow for a long, stunned moment. Softly, she said, “Willow…”
Nervously, Willow chattered, “Oz really wasn’t…I mean, he wasn’t into that witchy stuff, and Tara really is, and I really like her, you know? Like really, really like her. And I haven’t had a whole bunch of experience when it comes to casting spells with guys, I’ve mostly only done it with girls, so maybe I just need to try a few more guys just to check, but you like doing spells with guys and girls, right?” She had gone tomato-red. “Or maybe I’m—maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this isn’t just a witch thing. Maybe I’m—”
“Breathe,” said Jenny with a weak laugh.
“Breathe,” Willow echoed.
“Breathe,” Jenny repeated firmly.
“Breathe,” said Willow again. “Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.” She took in a few panicky gulps of air, staring at Jenny with those wide Bambi eyes.
Carefully, Jenny said, “So I have a few truths that I’ve gotta lay on you now, before you leave this conversation with the wrong idea.”
“Oh, god,” croaked Willow. “It really isn’t just a witch thing, is it?”
“You ready to stop jumping to conclusions?” said Jenny, arching an eyebrow. Taking Willow’s hands in hers, she gave them a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not just a witch thing, Willow. Plenty of people who don’t do magic find out that they like casting spells with girls a whole lot more than they like it with boys.”
“But how do they find out about spells i-if—” At Jenny’s pointed look, Willow’s blush deepened. “Oh. Oh. B-but—with Tara, it’s—” She swallowed, looking all but terrified. “W-we—we really only started talking because of the magic, and—I mean, without the magic, I wouldn’t—she wouldn’t—”
“Willow, do you think Rupert and I need magic to enjoy each other’s company?” said Jenny patiently. When Willow uttered a terrified squeak in response, Jenny belatedly realized how easily her words could have been misconstrued. “That was not what I was talking about either,” she said, doing her best not to laugh. “Rupert is…” She smiled, ducking her head. “He’s my best friend. He’s the first person I want to talk to every morning. He makes me happy, with or without any magic spells.” There was some definite irony in the fact that she’d given such a touching speech about a man who she had physically shoved out of the apartment less than an hour ago. She chose to ignore it entirely. “Is it possible that you’d feel like that about Tara, even if—um—magic was out of the picture?”
Willow looked a little lost. Timidly, she said, “B-but you know who I was, before—”
“Before magic?”
Willow nodded. “I-I could barely do anything,” she said quietly. “And I can help all the time now. Tara never knew me back then. She’d never have—”
“Are we talking about the same Willow Rosenberg who used to hack into government databases for fun?” said Jenny with genuine surprise. “The same Willow Rosenberg who I recommended to a leading software company back in junior year?”
“That was you? I—” Willow shook her head a little, drawing back. “I mean, I was okay, but I wasn’t—”
“You were my star pupil,” said Jenny fiercely, squeezing Willow’s hands in hers. “And that had nothing to do with how smart you were or how much you could do, Willow—it was because you are special, with or without magic on the table. There’s no way that Tara doesn’t see that in you.”
Willow was beginning to tear up. “Really?” she said, like this was the first time she’d ever heard it before.
“Really.” Jenny reached up, thumb wiping a stray tear from Willow’s cheek. “You are a great kid with a good head on your shoulders. That is a rare gift.”
Unsteadily, Willow said, “B-but what if Tara—”
“Would you still like her without the magic?” Jenny prompted.
Willow hesitated. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to,” she whispered. “I-I mean, if it’s just magic—if it’s just some thing that everybody who does magic does, then it’s—it’s okay, probably, but if it’s me—” She looked anxiously up at Jenny. “My mom used to say that all girls go through a phase, and—”
“Oh, that is such bullshit,” said Jenny indignantly. “That’s just contributing to bi-erasure and delegitimizing genuine attraction! If it’s a phase, it’s a phase, but wanting to go down on another woman isn’t some kind of universal feminine experience or something, it’s—” Belatedly, she registered the look of profound mortification on Willow’s face. “Oh, God, Willow, I am so sorry,” she groaned. “I am really messing this conversation up. I—” Searching for the right words, she finally landed on, “Look, it’s not—if you’re alluding to what I think you are, casting spells with other girls really isn’t a witch thing. It isn’t. And it doesn’t need to be.”
Willow was beginning to look thoroughly miserable. “So y-you’ve never—”
“I didn’t say that,” said Jenny, who had a nasty habit of rarely thinking before she spoke.
Willow’s eyes went very wide. In an entirely different tone of voice, she said, “What?”
Heart pounding, Jenny steeled herself. It wasn’t as though she expected Willow to judge her, but coming out to one of the kids wasn’t exactly something she’d ever planned on doing—especially considering how serious this thing with Rupert was rapidly becoming, and how easy it was to just sweep any potentially awkward conversations under the table. “I’m bisexual, Willow,” she said. “I, uh,” she laughed somewhat self-deprecatingly, “like casting spells with guys and girls.”
Weakly, Willow said, “But when I asked you the first time, you—were you, you know, casting spells with a whole bunch of other girls?”
“What? No!” Jenny went pink. (She did not want to discuss the moonlight ritual that took place during her junior year with the kids, at any time, ever.) “Willow, at that point in the conversation, I had no idea what you were talking about. Can we—are we allowed to just be up-front and say what we mean, now that it’s out on the—”
“Tara and I are having sex,” Willow blurted out.
Wow. Okay. This was an abrupt left turn. “…Guess I don’t have to ask you about condoms,” said Jenny with a weak laugh. “Um. Dental dams?”
“We got tested because we’re monogamous but we kind of also haven’t had that conversation, really,” Willow babbled, “so we have been using protection but technically we don’t need to ‘cause I don’t want to see anyone else and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t either, except I haven’t asked her yet, because she’s really sweet and I don’t want to pressure her into something she doesn’t want, especially if this is really just about the spells for her, because it so isn’t for me, but I don’t know if I want to tell her that yet—”
“Ooh boy,” said Jenny.
“—and I haven’t told anybody, not Buffy or Giles or anybody, and I’ve just been keeping quiet about it and saying she’s just my spell-casting gal pal but what if I’m gay? What if I am? How am I supposed to talk about boys with Buffy now? I had this whole wedding scrapbook and I don’t even know if it’s legal for me to get married anymore, and I just, I already have my first year of college to deal with, Ms. Calendar, I can’t deal with this too!” Willow wailed. “There’s years of systemic oppression, and do I have to read more theory? I’m already reading so much theory in Psych!”
“Do I have to tell you to breathe again?”
“No, I’m Breathing!!!!!!!!!!” shrieked Willow, took in a too-large gulp of air, and started coughing uncontrollably.
Jenny moved towards Willow, drawing her into the kind of firm, warm hug that they usually shared. “Ease up on the panic, kiddo,” she said, pulling back to tuck Willow’s hair behind her ear. Willow was breathing in tiny little gasps, but that felt more reassuring than the anxiety-babble. “I know it’s a lot to deal with in the moment, but you don’t need to deal with it all at the same time, okay?”
“I can, though,” said Willow in a high, stubborn voice.
“I know you can. I don’t want my favorite student burning out like a supernova.”
“I’m not your student anymore, you know,” said Willow unsteadily. “I don’t take classes with you or anything. You’re more like a—” And then she blushed, and looked away.
Mom.
It was probably significant that Jenny was allowing the word to linger, at least in her head. “Yeah,” she said. “More like a—” She mimicked Willow’s awkward look-away, then turned back, satisfied to see that this had earned her a reluctantly amused smile. More gently, she said, “It means a lot to me that you told me this, Willow. Thank you.”
“I kinda figured—” Willow’s blush was beginning to seem all but perpetual at this point. “You know. You do spells too, so—”
“Again. Not at all a sapphic thing, Willow.”
“I know that now!” said Willow, a mixture of defensive and giggly. “But you’re so cool, you know? And so rebellious, and—”
“Okay, one, I only look rebellious because my life partner thinks that alphabetizing his shirt drawer by label is a fun summer activity,” said Jenny, which made Willow snicker. “And two, it’s—” She let out a soft, unsteady breath. “It’s not rebellious,” she said. “Loving another woman. It’s natural. It’s a part of you, and—it’s a part of me too. It doesn’t need to be some kind of big political statement.”
Willow gave Jenny a tiny, lopsided smile. “I don’t really know—what to do, yet,” she said. “It’s really scary. I didn’t think that this was me.”
“You can talk to me any time, okay?” Jenny squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.”
Rupert came back looking refreshed, but still kind of quietly miserable in that way that had been hanging around him ever since he’d been fired. Jenny, who had just seen Willow off, met him at the door, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a long, steady hug.
“…Hello,” said Rupert, in a much softer, much happier tone of voice. “What’s all this about?”
Jenny smiled into his shoulder. Then she said, “Willow came by today.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, she—” Jenny smiled slightly. “She wanted my advice about something.”
“Something befitting a close adult female confidante, I assume?” said Rupert, every single syllable of Jenny’s self-assigned title enunciated with dry amusement.
“There’s probably a shorter way to say that,” said Jenny as casually as she could.
Rupert blinked, then smiled at her very affectionately. “I suspect so.”