FF - A Wiccan Gets the Wiggins 1&2

[badbard <tiger_by_night@xxxxxxxxx>]

For all you lucky fans who have yet to read this
unfinished fanfic be warned, um there is no kinky
sex...er I MEANT loving moments...not that there won't
be eventually but when there are, I'll post all due
warnings, k? *EG*

Also there is no anti-Oz sentiment or Undead bashing
(yet). There IS a whole lot of hurt n comfort, lurve
and confusing action-packed melodramatic moments.
Hmm. If you like Giles you might get a bit upset but
probably not for long, I do assure you, so please pull
up a chair and have as many scones as your little
stomach desires. Indeed. Very good. I say! Yus.

Well that's all I can think of except...there are TWO
GRRLS WHO LIKE EACH OTHER!!! Like that. Y'know what
I mean. Shocking. Gimme a scone and some aspirin,
pronto. Hang on...this is a Buff/Will list. YES! In
that case let me re-phrase that warning. There are
TWO GRRLS WHO LIKE EACH OTHER! EVERY SINGLE NIGHT!
MMM! That's better.

I repeat that so far this is a pretty G rated story.
Except for the violence. And blood. And drinking of
blood. etc etc etc

Oh and hi, listbuddies. Good to meet ya. I am ripped
there are so many Buff/Will fans out there! Yeah!

badbard

***




A Wiccan Gets the Wiggins
(and the girl!)

by badbard
(tiger_by_night@xxxxxxxxx)


WARNING/DISCLAIMER:- Buffy, Willow, Angel, Oz,
Xander, Cordelia, Giles etc are the exclusive property
of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Inc., and Warner Bros and
are used in this piece of fanfic for entertainmental,
non-profitable purposes. Aka profit is not being
made. No profit. No money. Just a cardboard box
home which I nicked outta a recycle bin. Hey! It's
recycling, okay?!

This story involves two gals getting involved 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. *G* Really.

The two gals in question being Buffy and Willow, so if
you enjoyed the angst-filled romance of the Buffster
and Angelus or you grinned sappily at the cuteness of
the couple that is Oz and Willow, stick around. More
romance is coming your way. Best friends taking it to
the next level is the defenition of 'romance',
don'tcha think?

Spoilers for every Buffy episode leading up to and
including Graduation Day II, in other words, Seasons I
to III. The story is set immediately after the night
of the so called 'Ascension'. Hence the Scooby gang
have graduated and break has begun.

This story is told from my fave wiccan's POV. She
weaves a spell around me every time I turn on the tv.
***


I'm just an ordinary witch.

Girl. I meant to say, girl.

Huh. Maybe I'm not quite so ordinary afterall.
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 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 cafateria
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 easy acceptance of my eager offer of 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 uni life ahead
of us.

"How's my favourite wiccan." Only one person asks
questions without the proper use of a question mark.

"Oz!" I spun around and blinked down into his
choclately 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 occassionally
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 aggreed. 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 cemetery 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
burial mound to mound by long force of 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 than covered my
mouth in horror. I couldn't believe I was saying this
out loud. Maybe I was dreaming. Only, if I were
dreaming, why wasn't Buffy stripping? So I couldn't
be dreaming. Darnit.

"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 Calender? 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, fitting myself in close to
her when pulling her towards me had no effect,
desperately wanting 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."

"Willow," she wept back, shuddering against me. I
could feel the warm saltiness of her tears treking
down my v-neckline, into my top. I chalked another
one up for Willow in the ol' inner Slayer manual.
Here I was, actually getting my best friend to drop
her tough Slayer act, even if it was just for awhile.
Buffy is notoriously stubborn when it comes to hiding
her problems, pretending she can handle all this hairy
stuff that even a cardsharp 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
loosing 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 it's green-eyed monstrous head.
"Sure our ex-mayor was an evil demon wannabe, Buff,
but he was a SMART evil demon wannabe. He knew a
thing or two or three, let me tell you, oh yes!" The
Slayer 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," she probed.

"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 said.

"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 gaul to smirk at
me.

2

Getting Buffy up the stairs and into my bedroom was
not exactly the easiest 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'
Slayer-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 the Slayer 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, actin' all drugged out I might add and how the
heck am I supposed to get you into my bed?"

"Ooh sez wes neeed ah bed?" she mumbled and I blushed
straight to the brown roots of my red 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 and 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 by this point so I took the opportunity to
study her feathery gold lashes. "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 against the rail securely. "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 rather pathetic mock-leer.

"No," I glared back, wishing my other best friend
could be serious ocasionally. "Something's wrong with
Buffy. I think she might be hurt. I don't know
what..."

"Hurt how?" he asked 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 a
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
realise 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, Willow," he ordered, sounding rather
panicky himself. "I'll be right over. This probably
has something to do with the miserable Ascension so
I'd best bring my books." 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. Afterall he did seem to have breathing
trouble with 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.

"Wherin 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 Willow, was more than her match.
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.

"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 Rosenburg?"

"You were right," husked Buffy to an astounded Xander,
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, wondering why she was having a fantasy of Faith
and 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 hankerchief 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.




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