FF - A Wiccan Gets the Wiggins 8

[badbard]

8

Buffy froze. Me, I just kept right on kissing her.
With her parted lips warm and sweet as melting
chocolate, how was I supposed to resist? Or control
myself? Or remember my name? Kissing Buffy was like
casting magick. Getting started was scary but getting
down to it was second nature.

Buffy whimpered. I moaned excitedly. Nothing existed
but Buffy as her mouth began to move under mine.
Buffy's body, arching up into mine as she stood on
tiptoes to crush our lips together; Buffy's hand,
cupping my cheek, dripping blood onto my chin.

We broke apart into two teenage girls, gasping for
air, searching eyes for answers.

"Blood!" I squeaked. "You hurt hand? Blood on hand.
Hand is hurt."

"Yes," panted Buffy, holding her dripping cut up for
inspection. "Hurt hand. Um. Question. You're not
still Diehardwithpus are you? I wasn't having
smoochies with Dyedhairallmussed was I? Was I?" I
waved my hand in her face.

"No. No paw. I'm not Dion...on...on...on
drugs...really I'm not...I'm uh W...W...I don't
'member right now but I do know my hand is s'pposed to
be cut. 'Cause you carved up my paw. But no blood.
No roasting rabbit. And uh you have hurt hand! Bad!
Very bad!" I couldn't tear my eyes away from Buffy's
lips. She was only inches away and that was far too
close. I was having trouble making thoughts. I would
have to watch a Seasame Street marathon before making
words again. All I wanted to do was make smoochies.

Apparently Buffy was in the same loveboat. Curving
her uninjured hand into my hair she demanded ever so
softly, "kiss me better." Our lips met. Lingered
over hello. Went on mining excavations. Buffy's kiss
filled me up and ate away at the tiny part of me that
insisted I wasn't allowed to love my best friend this
much. What I felt when Buffy's lips brushed mine was
fierce compared to loving Oz. Slow fire compared to
pashing Xander. It beat the feathers out of kissing
my pillow.

When Buffy slowly backed away I was having trouble
carrying out basic bodily functions. Breathing for
one. The beating of the heart for another. Sweating
was putting in some serious overtime. Buffy
meanwhile, struggled to control her puffing like a
freight train.

"So," she grinned as I beamed back. "Where do we go
from here, Will?"

"To bed," I giggled. Buffy bounded under the covers
so fast I thought she'd gained a new Slayer Power.
Slayer Strength, Slayer Healing, Slayer Necking...what
next? I slipped in next to her, smiling so hard my
jaw muscles were on the verge of collapse. What
wasn't there to smile about? Sure, Giles was wigging
me out, lost gods were taking my spells a little too
seriously and wacked-out evil Slayers were paying
house calls but Buffy was snoring into my chest and
that made it the best night I'd ever had. Even better
than the night before, spent wrapped up tight in Oz's
strong arms as he rocked me gently in our aftermath...

Oh no. Oz. I stared up at the ceiling. Oz. Buffy.
Betrayal. Oh no. This was bigger than the ascension
and prone to even more fireworks.

***

I dragged myself downstairs the next morning with a
splitting headache in tow. What or rather who I saw
in my kitchen made me take an extra couple aspirin.
Buffy was having breakfast with my parents. Slinking
in to pour myself coffee, I selected strong black, no
sugar. Half a snail's feeler for clear probing of the
situation.

"How was the restaurant?" I heard Buffy ask.

"Couldn't find a restaurant," griped my mother.
"Ended up at some repulsive night club. The Bonds.
Or maybe it was the Blondes. A hopeless local band
was playing. Fingers Sate with Gravy? Anyway, the
music made me want to dig a hole."

"You went to the Bronze and Dingoes Ate My Baby were
playing," corrected Buffy. "Will's boy..." she
trailed off uncertainly. I took an unhealthy swig of
disgusting coffee and plopped down without looking at
anyone. Especially Buffy.

"All the girls dressed like sluts," confided Mom,
looking to my Father for confirmation. A silly grin
spread over Dad's face as he nodded wholeheartedly.
"The beer tasted funny," Mom complained, "and it was
red! Yech! Still, what can you expect from a town
like Sunnydale?!"

"Exactly," agreed Buffy, darting glances my way.

"I didn't want to move here," Mom proclaimed, pointing
her muffin at my father. "Why couldn't we move to a
nice town, somewhere like Gotham for instance? Ever
since we came here there's been nothing but trouble
and mysterious deaths."

"Honey, we've always lived here," interjected my Dad
mildly.

"First our sweet little pussy-cat ate contaminated
cat-food, grew giant fangs and scarfed down the
neighbour's smelly mongrel, much to my profound relief
because the stupid mutt never shut its muzzle until we
buried it alive six feet under, than that anaemic
night salesman with corpse-complexion stole our vaccum
cleaner for his bizarre sucking purposes and to cap it
all, Willow's falling in with the wrong crowd, more
specifically that gym-burning Summers pyromaniac!
Bunny or Botty or whatever the hell her name is."

Buffy stopped glancing my way and started studying the
unattractive floral pattern on our tablecloth. Dad
cleared his throat. My cheeks burned with a lethal
combination of anger and embarassment.

"What?!" shrieked Mom, "I can't be concerned that our
daughter insists on playing Library with an expellee?
You know what that can lead to! Bad grades!"

"But Willow's already graduated," protested Dad.

"AND she decided to go to that godsawful university
this side of the stinkin' city limits," hissed Mom.
"All because of that Boofy." She turned to Buffy.
"What do you think, Booty? Does your mother let you
play with that awful Summers girl?"

"I try to do that when she's not around," quipped
Buffy. I choked on my coffee.

"Hmph," said Mom. "That's what I thought." She
turned on Dad. "You better take me somewhere really
romantic tonight to make up for that godforsaken walk
through the graveyard last night. The only thing not
rising there was MY temperature."

"Sure, Honey," said Dad amicably. He got up as Mom
did. She held out her hand to shake Buffy's, smiling
pleasantly for the first time that morning.

"Nice seeing you again, Boppy. Sleep over anytime."
She turned to me. "Willow, dear, your father and I
have decided to revoke your electric socket
privileges. If you'll just stick some, I don't know,
gum or something over your bedroom's outlet until
further notice..."

Buffy reached for my hand under the table as we
watched my parents' retreat. I held on tightly and
tried to decide what to do and who to love.

TBC




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