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The velocity of time turns her voice into sugar water.
“I moved on,” Buffy told Angel. “To the living.”
It stung. He didn’t let it show, but it stung. Good. Back in LA, when she was planning this moment, she thought she’d let him down gently. But hey, if Angel needed to push, she could push back. It wouldn’t be her fault if something broke. He could go brood himself off about it.
I’m on a concrete way, the singer sang.
She needed a dance. She looked over to Xander sipping his drink. She just had to move one finger, and he’d run willingly. He’d be all over her. He’d been eyeing her ever since… ever. All she’d need to do was make him think it might mean something, and he’d do whatever she wanted. No. She didn’t need any wandering hands, and much less any lingering looks the next day. One guy’s fragile feelings were enough. Plus, she didn’t actually want to dance with him. And she decided this night was going to be about what she wanted. Not Giles, not Angel, and definitely not Xander.
“Dance with me?” She grabbed Willow’s hand, and led her to the dance floor. It smells like sands of the southern island.
“What was that with Angel?” Willow shouted over the music.
“Nothing. There’s nothing with Angel.” We’re so not going to talk about him right now.
She stepped closer, before Willow could say anything else. She started moving, feeling out the rhythm. Feeling out Willow. Buffy’s right hand washed over her hip. It made her look. At Buffy’s hand, first. Then Buffy. She saw a glimpse of hesitation in Willow’s eyes, but she wasn’t having that. Not tonight. She was going to make her dance. Dance with her. She took a step back, not letting go of Willow, her fingers gently caressing the soft skin through the shirt.
When a black cat crosses my path…
Buffy took another step closer, close enough that their noses almost touched. This close, it was all Willow-y smells: the scent of her clothes mixed with her perfume, and the faint smell of her sweat. It was enticing. She ran a hand up the side of Willow’s leg, from her knee to her hip. She wanted her to feel the music, like Buffy felt it.
A woman in the moon is singing to the earth.
Slowly, Willow started to follow her moves. Her eyes twitched from side to side, like she was worried someone might see them.
“Come on, dance with me,” Buffy whispered into her ear, trying to get her to stop worrying and start looking at her. She stepped away, dragging a finger across Willow’s arm as she moved. She teased her, daring her to come closer, then stepping away in the last second when she did. She danced around Willow, keeping her eyes fixed on her, watching her move to the music. Move with her.
Her head was filled with the music. She was moving when she needed to, touching Willow when she wanted to touch, letting her go when she wanted to tease. She surrendered herself to the music, and let Willow surrender herself to her.
***
A woman in the moon is singing to the earth.
Buffy was amazing. It was like she was everywhere at the same time. Willow felt surrounded by her body. Like there was nothing else around her, only Buffy. She made dancing look so easy. Meanwhile, Willow could barely keep the rhythm. She didn’t know what to do. Was she supposed to dance with Buffy, like they were… two people who were dancing together? And what was she supposed to do with her arms? She had no idea where to put them. It was unfair. Buffy clearly had no such problem. She was in this constant motion, never stopping for a moment, always on beat, her whole body moving at once. She danced away from Willow, then came back, and went away again. It was like she was daring her to follow. Their bodies touched, from time to time. Buffy’s hip washed against the side of her butt, or her hand ran through her upper arm. Every time that happened, she could feel a hidden force behind Buffy’s movements, a purposefulness, like she knew exactly where she wanted her body to be, and she just made herself be there, every time.
She wanted that. To feel like that, and be able to move like that. She wanted to match Buffy. Maybe even impress her. And she could do it, she decided. She just had to let Buffy guide her.
And it worked. She felt the singer’s voice flow through her body. She forced her arms to raise, her legs to start moving. She wanted to cower, but she didn’t let herself. Don’t be shy, she told herself. Buffy wasn’t.
She stepped closer. She wanted to dance with her, not just next to her. She half-expected Buffy to back away, but she didn’t. The music vibrated in her chest, echoing in the back of her head, her neck, even the tip of her fingers. Buffy lifted her arms up, then she rested her elbows on Willow’s shoulder. She put her hands on Buffy’s arms, holding them to herself. Buffy smiled as she looked at her.
We are taking sugar water shower.
She felt the music. It was amazing! She didn’t just hear it, she knew how to move, she knew how Buffy would move before she’d even done it. She realized that their arms were around each other, one of Buffy’s hand on the back of her head, her face so close to her own. She felt like she finally saw her face for the first time, noticing details that she’d never seen before. Were her eyes always this color?, she wondered. She could barely hear the music with her ears now, but it was still there, deeper, in her stomach, the beats pulsing in her guts, then going even lower, resonating through her, the vibration spreading from organ to organ, all the way down to her–
The music stopped. Buffy’s arms lifted up, and they separated. The vibrations left her system, leaving… nothing. It was empty inside.
But it was the good kind of empty.
***
“Buffy, no!” Willow yelled. “It’s going to kill you! You can’t die like this!”
“I’m the slayer, remember? If I could beat the Master, I can beat this.” She stared Willow in the eye as she waived down the waitress. “Excuse me! Can I please get a hot chocolate? With extra cream. And those little marshmallows. And some chocolate sprinklers! And can you please add maple syrup? As much as you can. Thank you.”
“Is that all?” the waitress asked.
“Actually,” she decided, grinning at Willow, “can we get two?”
“I’ll bring them right away.”
“You’re evil,” Willow said, once she was out of earshot. “You’re trying to poison me.”
“Maybe I’m trying to fatten you up before eating you.”
“Right. Because right now I’m skinny and chewy. No good for eatin’.”
She put a pretend pout on her face. “I didn’t say that. I bet you already taste amazing. But there’s nothing that’s not improved by adding some sugar.”
“Buffy, that is not ‘some’! If I drink that, I’ll be ninety percent sugar.”
She leaned forward, into Willow’s face. “Just how I like it.”
After the waitress arrived with their drinks, she raised her glass to Willow. They both took a sip. Willow spat out hers. Buffy didn’t, but she couldn’t say she didn’t have the urge. It was like drinking pure maple syrup, but with more sugar.
“Buffy, this is terrible,” Willow said.
They both broke out laughing. Buffy stuck out her tongue to get the taste of sugar off. Her cheeks hurt from the nonstop laughing and smiling they’d done since they arrived at the coffee shop. She realized just now how little of that there’d been in LA.
“I missed this,” she said.
“Poisoning yourself with sugar?”
“No. Us,” she smiled. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Willow nodded. She smiled back… God, how she missed that smile! She felt like if she could taste it, it would be even sweeter than their drinks. “You could’ve called,” Willow added.
“Yeah. Sorry about that.” I wanted to, she almost said. I don’t know why I didn’t. “I guess I just needed some time. After the dying and all.”
She really could’ve called. Maybe invite her up to LA for a few days. She should’ve done it. She didn’t want to be the kind of friend that forgot the other person existed when there wasn’t school. She was going to make it up to her.
“I know,” Willow said. “But I’m glad you’re back. Actually, I have something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
Willow waited a second before she spoke. “What do you think about Xander?”
Xander. Right. She couldn’t say she was surprised by that question. She would’ve liked it better if Willow brought it up some other time, not during their girls-only afternoon. But, as best friend, it was her duty to be excited and giddy.
“Xander… what do you think about Xander?” she teased.
“I… think I like him.”
“You’re undecided?”
“Yeah. I was pretty sure. This whole summer. We were together almost every day, and it was really nice, and… I thought about the things, that you’re supposed to do, like, kissing guys, and going to prom… and I’m pretty sure I want to do those with Xander.”
“But you only think you like him?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m doing it right. Since school started, I’m just not sure, you know? Every girl is talking about her summer boo, and how it felt, and I don’t know if I feel that.” She stopped for a moment “Oh, no. Is it Xander? Is he a bad crush? Is he repulsive?”
“No,” she said firmly. She put her hand on Willow’s, to provide her with bestfriend-ly support. “He’s not. He’s funny, and good-looking, and he cares about you.”
“He cares about you more,” Willow mumbled.
Ouch. “I know. I’m sorry.” She squeezed Willow’s hand. “But I don’t like him that way. He’s all yours.”
“I know. It’s not your fault. I think it’s me. I think I’m just bad at having a crush.”
“That’s not possible. And even if it was, you’re not.”
Willow pulled her hand away. Buffy stopped herself from reaching after her. “I am. I feel like I’m doing everything wrong. It’s like, there was this weekend crash course on how to like boys, and I just didn’t get the memo.”
Buffy resisted the urge to say ‘crush course’. She instead said, “You’re Willow. You don’t need a memo. There’s no course you can’t nail. Maybe Xander doesn’t like you. So what? It’s his loss.” And my win, if my two best friends don’t start dating. “I say, before you blink twice, someone will be head over heels for you. He’ll fall for the good ol’ Willow charm, and he’ll be lost forever.”
“Thanks. But I’m not sure I have a charm.”
“You do. You have both the brains and the…” She couldn’t think of a word with ‘b’ that meant looks. She tried miming, with limited success.
“Boobs?”
“Body,” she landed on. “The whole package. If I was a guy, I would totally fall for you.” This earned her a twitch from the corner of Willow’s mouth, which was almost as good as a real smile. She wasn’t done. “Now what do you say we have another hot chocolate – one that isn’t ninety percent sugar,” she added before Willow could protest, “– and then you come over to talk about the one girl thing that’s more important than crushes.”
“Is it the kind that comes every month?”
“Looking at all the clothes my dad bought me in LA.”
“Deal,” Willow said. “And please don’t tell Xander I called him repulsive.”
“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me,” she smiled at her. “Anyway, why do they call it ‘head over heels’? Isn’t that where your head normally is?”
***
Push. Willow needed to get her body moving push the doorbell. It was too late to turn back. What if someone saw her? What if Buffy opened the door, and she asked her why she was just standing there, and she couldn’t lie to Buffy, and she’d have to tell her how she felt right then and there, and what if her mom overheard, or–
She tried to calm down. When that didn’t work, she pushed the doorbell anyway. Nothing. Maybe they weren’t home? Or… already asleep? It was late! What was she thinking coming this late?
“Willow! Is everything alright? You look pale.”
“Yes, Mrs Summers,” she swallowed. She always was a terrible liar.
“Come on in then.” She threw her a big smile. “We already had dinner, but I can put something quick together.”
“No! Thank you. I just came to see Buffy. She’s home, right?”
“I certainly hope so. Will you be staying the night?”
“I… don’t know.” It depends on what will happen after I tell Buffy I have a cr–
“I’ll get you some blankets. Are you sure you’re alright?”
She took the blankets, lying yet again that yes, she was alright. She hurried up the stairs, and stopped at the top to catch her breath.
She tried to stay quiet. It didn’t work. “Mom?” Buffy called out. No going back now.
“It’s me,” she answered.
“Will? Come in!”
The door made a loud creaking sound, as she tried to open it as silently as she could. Buffy was sitting at the edge of her bed, her eyes wide.
“Hi,” Willow said, hugging her blanket.
“Will. Hi. Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” she lied. “I just… wanted to talk to you about something.”
“In the doorway?”
“Doorway?”
“Did you want to talk about it in the doorway, specifically? Because if not, you can come in and sit down.”
“Come in. Yes.” Stupid.
She awkwardly sat down next to Buffy, squeezing the blanket against her chest. Then Buffy slid closer. She put one hand on Willow’s knee. She meant to be reassuring, but it just made it harder.
“Will, talk to me. You’re freaking me out.”
“Freaking? No. Nothing to freak about.” It was enough if one of them was freaking. “It’s not a slayer-y thing. I was just… thinking. After last week. Mostly if my teeth were going to fall out, because of all the sugar. But I was thinking about… other things too.”
“Thinking, okay,” Buffy nodded. “About what?” She was nervous. Why was Buffy nervous? She didn’t mean to make Buffy nervous! This was all going horribly.
“About… Xander. And crushes. And what you said. How I will meet a guy.” Deep breath. “But I won’t. I think… I don’t want to.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” She gulped. She’d practiced this part. Of course, when she was practicing, it didn’t feel like she was going to choke. That made things easier. “I don’t think I’m bad. At having crushes. I’m just bad at noticing them.”
“You lost me.”
Willow sunk her nails into her palm. Her throat tightened, and for a moment, she couldn’t squeeze a word out.
“I was bad at noticing,” she managed, “that I had a crush because… it’s not a boy.”
She felt dizzy. Like the whole world was moving and she was too slow to react. She took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for the hard part.
Then she told Buffy how she felt.
***
“Will…” Buffy started, but she didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Every possible answer felt wrong. “I– I’m sorry, Will,” she managed. “I didn’t know…”
“I was too much! I knew I had to do it in two parts. And I shouldn’t have said the second part at all. The part about… you. That was a mistake.” She stood up.
“No! I’m…” glad you told me? Was she? It would’ve been a lot easier if she hadn’t. “It’s alright. It’s just… it is much. To take in.” Boy, that wasn’t cliché at all. But what else could she say? She needed… what? Time? Hopefully not, because she was pretty short in that department. Willow already started to wig. Hell, she probably started to wig way before she got there.
“I should go,” Willow said.
“No!” Buffy almost shouted. Did Mom hear that? “Stay. Please. I– it’s late. I don’t want you going home like this.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“No, you can’t.” And that’s not what I meant. She couldn’t stand if she made Willow feel like she had to leave.
“I can get you a mattress.” Mom would wonder why they didn’t just share the bed like they normally did. She could make up some lie. “Or you can take the bed. I have a sleeping bag.”
“Thanks.” There were two wet spots below Willow’s eyes that Buffy tried really hard not to notice. “But I really should go,” she said. And why wouldn’t she? It was Buffy who made her cry.
“I’m walking you home,” Buffy said. Willow opened her mouth to protest, but she wasn’t having it. “We don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to. But I want you safe.” She was kidnapped just a few days ago. Buffy didn’t know what she’d do if that happened again.
“And Will,” she added. “I know it looks like I’m wigging, and… I am. This is all… huge, and new, and you dumped a lot of things on me, and it has me wigging. But it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change how I feel about you– us. Our friendship. You’re the smartest person I know, and my best friend, and… if anyone, and I mean anyone, gives you any trouble because of– whatever reason, then they’ll have to deal with me, okay? Just point, and I’m breaking bones.”
Willow gave her a smile. Or at least something that could grow up to be a smile, if it studied hard and ate its veggies. Buffy opened the door for her, as quietly as she could. It’s best if Mom doesn’t notice.
As they were walking home, again and again she wanted to turn to Willow. She wanted to say something. Tell her that things were going to be okay, and that she lo– but maybe she should avoid using that word. Funny. They’d said it so many times. Now she wondered how Willow meant them then. And… were things even going to be okay? They definitely weren’t going to be normal for a while. Dammit, Will, why did you have to say it? No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t Willow’s fault. Dammit, Buffy. Why couldn’t she think of something to say?
But she just couldn’t. They walked next to each other in silence. Willow’s hands hiding under the sleeves of her sweater, Buffy’s tucked under her coat, her right thumb fidgeting with the end of her stake. She was used to walking in the night all by herself. She wasn’t used to being this alone.
When they arrived at her front door, Willow turned to her, like she was about to say something. She didn’t. Her eyes had mostly dried up, but still there were a few drops of tears not wiped away, a few drops that Buffy could perfectly make out, even through the dark. She resisted the urge to wipe them off.
Instead, she held her arms out for a hug.
“I don’t think we should,” Willow whispered. Like she was telling a secret. “Goodnight, Buffy.”
Buffy closed her arms. She touched her chest, to make sure it was all there. She could faintly hear Willow hurrying to her room, opening and closing the door. Even more faintly, she could hear her as she started crying.
***
A nightmare would’ve been nice.
In her dream, Willow had danced with Buffy. She remembered how Buffy’s fingers slowly caressed the skin on her back, her other arm wrapped around Willow’s shoulder, holding her close to herself. They danced slowly. She could feel Buffy’s breath tickling her neck, her chest pressed against Willow’s. She couldn’t shake the memory of how that felt. She wanted to crawl back inside that feeling and never come out. She couldn’t concentrate on anything else. When she tried to pay attention to Mrs Hall’s lecture, she felt the dream starting to slip away. She couldn’t let that happen. She had to remember.
Nightmares were easy. You spent them wishing it wasn’t real, wishing you could wake up. And then you did. It was kinda like a happy ending. But now she got the happy ending in her dream, and it was gone when she woke up.
The bell rang. She shot out of class, hoping that no one would talk to her.
She wasn’t quick enough. “Willow, oh, Willow.” Xander’s voice made her shoulders twitch. “Do you want to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I wasn’t. Avoiding you,” she tried.
“Mm-mm. I’ve been avoided by too many girls to not notice. Something’s up.”
“Nothing’s up. It’s all down. Some of it may be sideways. But it didn’t even start going up.”
“Sure. That’s why Buffy’s twenty seconds late to answer when I ask her a question, and you look like you saw a ghost. And I know you didn’t, because then we’d be in the library researching ghosts. But we’re not. So I want to know why my two best friends aren’t talking to me. Or each other. And I’m almost certain I didn’t do anything this time. Which means something happened with you two.”
“Happened? What would happen? Nothing happened!”
“Okay, then it’s something else the two of you need to work out. You can probably still catch up to Buffy, if you hurry. She just left. Said something about ditching Giles.”
“I can’t!” she squeaked. “I left my… things… at the library. I have to go now!”
She took off before he could say anything. She was trying to figure it out. Okay, ‘it’ was maybe more about how she could avoid ever looking Buffy in the eye again. But she was trying to figure something out.
“Willow?” Giles looked up from his book when she entered the library. “Uhm, hello. Do you know if Buffy will be coming? She seemed awfully dismissive this morning when I mentioned our training session.”
“Buffy? No. No Buffy.” Why did everyone keep bringing up Buffy? “I don’t think she’s coming today. I was just seeing if you needed my help maybe?”
“Help? Oh, right. No, fortunately. With the Master’s ultimate demise, demonic activity is, uh…” He put down his book. “Are you alright?”
“Me? Tip-tops,” she smiled. “I’m the spirit of being alright.”
She could tell the smile didn’t work. “I’ll make some tea,” he said. “Sit.” She did. Giles put the kettle on, moved a large pile of books on top of another large pile, and spoke about some 16th century burial rituals he was reading about. She tried her best to ‘oh’ and ‘mhm’ where it was appropriate, but she barely understood what he said. She felt Buffy’s hands on her body, the way they caressed her in her dream. She was holding Buffy too, clinging onto her, pressing her forehead against hers.
She almost jumped at the click of the kettle. But there was something calming in the way Giles poured the tea. A promise that tea will be poured tomorrow, and the day after that.
“This is nice,” she said after tasting it. She felt like she should say something.
“Yes.” Giles took a long slip, then leaned back. “I, uh… I realize I might sound staggeringly old, and, uhm, British, but I’ve found that when one’s so… entangled… with the supernatural, we are sometimes prone to forget that our more, uh, mundane problems are just as important. I, uh, I guess what I am trying to say is that, should you need to talk to someone…”
“I had a bad dream,” she blurted out.
“You are under immense stress. It is perfectly normal to, uh–”
“No,” she interrupted. “I don’t mean like a bad bad dream. I mean, it was bad… because it was a dream.”
“Oh.” It was silly. Of course it was silly. Giles was a full adult, battling the forces of darkness, what would he care– “I know the kind,” he said.
He didn’t say anything else, but somehow Willow felt him… listen. Something about the way he talked, or the way he looked at her, or maybe it was just the smell of old books and fresh tea, but it made her feel safe. It was like there was some part of the cold reality out there that hadn’t found its way into the library yet. It felt a bit like Christmas eve, when there was no school, all the extended family had gone home after the Hanukkah visit, and she’d just cozy up in her room with Xander, watching silly movies about how putting ribbons on a dead tree was the true meaning of the holidays. Whatever was out there, maybe she could face it in here.
“I told… someone,” she started, carefully picking her words, “something. And I don’t think they were ready to hear it.”
“And I take that that, uhm, someone didn’t take it quite well.”
“It’s not that. But it’s not not that, you know? I’m not making much sense, am I?”
“Less than usual,” he admitted. “Some more tea?”
She accepted. “She– I mean, they say it’s okay. But that’s what people say when things are not okay, you know? And… I’d understand if they’re not, but… I don’t want her to hate me.”
Giles put down his tea.
“You suspect she might disapprove of you?”
“No. I don’t think so. But this thing… it changes things, you know? Between us.”
“I see,” Giles said. “I’m not sure that can be helped. When you tell someone something important, you can’t expect them not to be affected by it. So yes. Things will change. But change can be for the better. You needn’t expect the worst.”
He was right. She knew he was right. But he didn’t understand. It wasn’t that simple. She wished she could just fix things, just take it all back and pretend it never happened, but she couldn’t stop clinging to the dream. She couldn’t forget what if felt like being held by her.
And there was something else. Buffy didn’t say ‘no’. It was stupid to even think about that. But… she didn’t say ‘no’. She didn’t say ‘I don’t’. And even though she knew it was impossible, Willow kept thinking… maybe. That ‘maybe’ made it too painful to let go. If she ripped it out, if she said it out loud that Buffy would never– then it was all wrong. Even if she apologized, even if she could make Buffy forget everything, it would all be wrong. And she couldn’t do anything. Because maybe she could fix what she said, but she couldn’t fix how she felt.
They drank their tea in silence. Giles only spoke after they both finished.
“I know that when one’s a teenager, life is horribly strange and confusing, and one feels alone, surrounded by all manners of… changes that they don’t understand. But you’re not actually alone, Willow. There are others like you… like us, that have gone through the same thing. And we understand.”
Like us? “Do you mean… that you’re…”
“Family,” he offered.
Family. “And did you know… you know, about me?”
“I couldn’t say that, no. But I’ve had my suspicions, I suppose.”
“But how? I mean, I didn’t even know.”
“There are clues. You’ll get better at noticing them too. As you get older.”
She fidgeted with her empty cup. She had so many questions. But one above all, she couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Just me?” she whispered.
“Huh?”
“Is it just me? That you’ve been suspicious about.”
Immediately, she wanted to take it back. She couldn’t ask that. But… she didn’t say ‘no’.
“Oh. I, uh, I probably shouldn’t say. Coming out is an intimate thing, and it should not be forced. Besides, I might be wrong.”
“I get it.” It was probably best if she didn’t know. “Except the you being wrong part.”
“It’s been known to happen.” He smiled. She felt tears coming up. She decided to stay. He said it, she thought. He’s family.
***
Buffy had needed this. Not ‘this’ as in ‘getting punched in the face by a vampire’. That just came with the territory. But she did need some Buffy time. The vampire growled a lot, it was distracting to look at – wearing a backless halter top with a sports bra? seriously? –, but at least it didn’t ask her questions like why she was avoiding her friends at lunch, or what was Willow doing at their house that late.
She ducked down from the second punch, grabbed the vampire with both hands, and tossed it spine-first into a gravestone, which wobbled a bit from the impact. Buffy wondered if anyone was going to notice that later.
The Willow-lessness of the place was also– ‘welcome’ wasn’t the right word. It wasn’t that she liked spending her day dodging her. It wasn’t like she wanted to hide in the back of the classroom, keeping as much distance between them as she could. She’d pretended to pay attention to the class, but she could still see her, and smell her, and even hear the rhythm of her breath if she concentrated. She wanted to comfort Willow. Or maybe she wanted Willow to comfort her. But either way it was dangerous. She knew that her attempt at comfort might end up hurting Willow.
The next punch hit the other side of her face, the one after that came slamming on her ribs. She blocked the third one with her hands, then cracked its nose with a headbutt that made her ears ring. She jumped after it as it was staggering back, and lifted her feet to kick it straight in the chest.
Could she ever hug Willow again? Sometimes she’d spend half the night lying awake, waiting for some crack or small fracture to heal, and she’d start the day already wishing last night’s vampire had finished the job. The only thing that would get her out of bed after those nights was the promise of Willow hugs when she got to school. Was that gone? She thought about that night, when she walked her home. I don’t think we should do that, she’d said.
The vampire bodyslammed into her, sweeping her off her feet. She kicked it off of her, then rolled away from its incoming punch. It lounged at her again. It came faster than her eye could take in, but her body moved out of the way by itself, with an added kick to the small of its back. Its head cocked back with unnatural speed, and it let out a guttural sound.
“You know, it’s not ladylike to growl,” she commented, somersaulting out of the way of its next attack.
Is Willow gay now? That was one of her big dilemmas. She must be, right? That was a lot to take in by itself. One day, they were having hot chocolate and donuts, and giggling together, and next day, poof, gay Willow. Or… it was probably gay Willow all along. Right? Willow just didn’t know it yet. It was good nothing happened between her and Xander. He probably wouldn’t take it too well if the first girl who liked him turned out to be a lesbian. But hey, maybe he would become closer with Willow. They could get over Buffy together. And talk about girls. She didn’t like the thought of that. She was supposed to be getting closer to Willow. Not him.
Why did it even have to be Buffy? If it was anyone else, that Willow had– But she guessed it was kind of natural. They were best friends, after all. Hell, if Buffy was a lesbian, she’d probably like Willow too. She definitely looked good, even if she didn’t always dress like it. And she just had the prettiest hands, and hair, and that adorably shaped nose. And there was that thing, when she did a half-smile, and her cheeks perked up, in a way that just made anyone want to cup Willow’s face between their hands. Plus she was the smartest girl in the school. Honestly, Buffy suspected half the school had fantasized going out with Willow. She just had a bad reputation, that’s why no one had asked her. Okay, maybe not going out, but like… she didn’t think anyone would turn down a chance to kiss her. She definitely wouldn’t. Willow seemed like a good kisser. She wasn’t even sure what that meant, but– she just radiated the kind of warmth you’d want from a kiss. And she had really soft skin. Since Buffy’s noticed that, every time they hugged, she wanted to stay just a little bit longer, in that warm, Willow-y softness. She was like a puppy, she just wanted to squeeze her whenever she saw her.
The stake danced in her hand, stabbing and thrusting at Little Miss Undead, who dodged her attacks easily. A cold hand grabbed her face, and she felt its nails piercing her skin.
“No fair,” she said, bringing up her knee between its legs. Its grip on her face loosened, but it still caught her hand before her weapon could penetrate, and twisted the stake out of her hand. She got free, and they both started for the stake at the same time.
She thought of the sleepovers she used to have with Willow. By this time, it would be lights out, the both of them lying in her bed, and whispering about… everything. There were so many questions she wanted to ask her. How did she know? What did it feel like? Having a gay crush must’ve felt different, right? It didn’t seem fair, that she would never know how Willow felt. She wanted to share this with her. Did Willow think about girls the way Buffy did with boys? Did she think about kissing them? Not the way everyone thought about kissing girls, but in some different, lesbian way?
They were both on the ground, limbs intertwined, wrestling for control. She was the one grabbing the stake, her hand full of splinters from squeezing the wood, but the vampire’s hand was locked on her wrist. It shouldered into her, then brought one hand up to her face, clawing for her eyes. She pushed its arm away from her face and pinned it down to its body. She bit down at its other hand, and its grip on her wrist loosened. She pulled free, threw her leg over its body, holding it down with her thighs. She put her whole weight into the thrust, sweeping away the pair of cold arms, piercing right through the heart.
Her legs bumped on the ground as the body under hers turned into dust. She got up. There was a dull pain in her ribs. A small crack maybe. No biggie. It would heal. She could barely feel it anyway. Actually, what she felt was alive. Really alive. She could’ve killed for some more action. She was thinking about a night a few days back, she and Willow opposite of each other on the dance floor of the Bronze. She wanted that again. She wanted to dance, move with the music, body to body, pressed together, until they were covered in sweat and their muscles started to ache.
She couldn’t shake her restlessness even when she got home. She showered, snuck downstairs to raid the fridge, then wolfed it down sitting on the floor, her back against her bed frame. She kept staring at her window. She kept thinking about climbing out, and– she wasn’t sure. Maybe go back out and pick another fight. Maybe go to Willow’s. Which would be a monumentally bad idea, she realized as soon as the thought occurred to her. Of course. There was no version of that where at least one of them didn’t come out hurt. But some part of her still wanted to do it.
She’d known she missed her, when she was in LA. She missed all of them. Willow, Xander, Mom. Even Giles. She’d thought that was all there was to it, but no. With Willow, it was like she had been missing from Buffy. More than Mom, more than Angel. She didn’t realize it back then, but she was walking around in LA with a Willow shaped hole inside her.
And now she was back, and she lost her again. She had to keep her distance, when all she wanted to be was close. That was stupid. She wanted to go to her, touch her, hold her, make her feel good. Wasn’t that what Willow wanted? To feel good with Buffy? She could offer herself to her, let Willow do to her whatever she wanted. Just for that night. She wondered what it would be like to kiss her, to taste her lips. Would Willow like that? Would she shy away, try to be a good friend? Or would she jump at her, grateful for the opportunity, eager for just a lick?
She didn’t sleep much that night. After she beat off the fantasies, she was still left with her thoughts. And she had much to think about.
***
Willow was late to school. Okay, not late late, like normal people were, but late from being the usual thirty minutes early. She didn’t like it. But it was still better than hanging out there for half an hour, and risk running into Buffy. Because then she’d have to talk to her. She told Giles she would. Not to Buffy specifically, obviously. She’d never said her name. But Giles knew, of course. And he was right. She had to talk to her. Just not today. Today just wasn’t the day. And maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be either, and the day after that–
“Willow?” Uh-oh. She tried to pretend not to hear, but then Buffy got in front of her, and she couldn’t really pretend not to see. “Will?”
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi. Can we talk?”
Willow nodded. She thought. She wasn’t sure if her muscles were obeying her anymore. Can we talk? Nothing good was ever said after ‘can we talk’.
She felt Buffy’s hand gently touching her arm. “You coming?” she asked. Willow gave another weak nod, and followed.
“Aren’t we supposed to be in class?” she attempted.
It didn’t work. “Yes, we are.” Buffy didn’t stop. A few people looked at them as they were passing by, and Willow tried her best to act like everything was normal.
Buffy led them to an empty classroom. She closed the door and leaned against a table right in front of Willow, close enough that she could count the hairs on her arm. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to get closer, or as far away as possible. She tried to sit on a table herself, but she immediately had the urge to stand up. She felt like someone was strangling her.
“I guess I should start by apologizing. Again,” Buffy said. “Boy, you’d think that’d get easier with practice.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Will. I– what you told me, that was a lot. I didn’t know what to say. But I should’ve said something. I hate that you might think that I’d judge you, or think anything bad about you. I don’t. I don’t think I ever could. I don’t want you to regret telling me.”
“I don’t,” she squeezed out. “I mean, the coming out part,” she quickly added. “Not the… other part.” She would never stop regretting that one.
“I’m glad you told me.” Buffy repeated. “All of it. I don’t think I fully understood, when you told me. What it all meant. I needed some time to process that. But I’m not freaked out, Will. I’m proud. I’m proud that you feel this way about me. And I–” She stopped for a moment.
“Buffy, you don’t have to say that,” she said, before Buffy could continue. “You don’t have to apologize. I know I said too much. I don’t know what I was thinking. No, I know: I wasn’t thinking at all, and I said it, and now I made everything weird, and I’m so afraid that I ruined our friendship, because I don’t want that.” She thought about her dream. The tenderness of Buffy’s touch, the softness of her skin. How it felt to dance with her, and to know that she felt the same. She could forget it, she decided. In time, she could forget. “Please,” she said. “Can we just forget it ever happened?”
Buffy stood up. “I don’t want to forget,” she said. Her fingers touched Willow’s. “I want to remember.”
“But we can still be friends, right? Like before? Just friends?” Please.
Buffy’s face was inches away from hers. She looked just like in the dream. “That’s not what I want.” She took her hands. “I want this.”
“Buffy?” She couldn’t find the words. She let Buffy draw her into a tight hug, and clung to her, letting go of herself, letting her whole bodyweight rest on Buffy’s arm. She didn’t know how long they stayed like that. She never wanted to let go. But then Buffy pulled away, just enough so Willow could see her face.
“Will?” she said.
“Hmm?”
“Is it okay if I kiss you now?”
And she did.