FF: Future Imperfect 2/?

[PB <pbnj@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

TITLE: Future Imperfect
AUTHOR: Pink Rabbit Productions
SPOILERS: Nothing specific so far, but it's set several years in the 
future, so offhand remarks could be made about anything through the fourth 
season.
RATING: It's not finished yet, but probably not much more than a PG-13 to a 
really soft R (translation: yes, there's sex, but nothing more explicit 
than you'd find in your average Harlequin romance--if you switched the 
genders around a bit of course). It does feature women in love, so if this 
is going to make you scream in terror, moral outrage or nausea, please just 
leave now and make life easier for all of us.
DISCLAIMER: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters belong to Joss 
Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, Sandollar, and who knows who else, and I make no 
claim on them whatsoever. However, this particular arrangement of words in 
cyberspace belongs to me alone.
ARCHIVE: The Pink Rabbit Consortium (http://pinkrabbit.simplenet.com) and A 
Slayer A Hacker True Love (http://members.dencity.com/pat17/)
PART: 2/?

Future Imperfect

Buffy started to rush after him, but pulled up short as Willow gasped and 
collapsed to one knee. The Slayer hurried to her friend, while Spike dusted 
himself off with blasé calm.

?Willow, are you okay?? Buffy whispered as she curled a supportive hand to 
her friend?s shoulder.

The hacker lifted a trembling hand to her temple, swallowing hard to 
answer, ?Yeah, I think so.? She shook her head slowly as the world spun 
around her. ?Just kind of forgotten how hard that trick is,? she mumbled.

Buffy brushed a hand over crimson silk hair. ?Well, you got rid of them 
all,? she whispered.

?Except him,? Willow disagreed dazedly. The concentration required to 
manipulate that many objects at once had left her exhausted and as weak as 
a kitten. She shaded her face with one hand as the world tilted dangerously 
around her.

?Will, if you hadn?t...? Buffy didn?t finish that thought before 
continuing. ?You saved us all.?

?I couldn?t let him hurt you again,? the witch mumbled, leaning heavily on 
Buffy?s support.

?Look, I don?t mean to break up this charming little tete a tete, but I 
really think we should be getting out of here,? Spike said as he moved to 
stand beside them. ?He?ll come back...with help.?

Buffy turned a hard glare on the blond vampire. ?And exactly what are you 
doing here?? she demanded as she pushed to her feet while keeping one hand 
on Willow?s shoulder. ?I mean, it?s all very convenient timing....?

Spike shrugged. ?I?ve been looking for you. He needs you to get what he wants??

?Oh, right,? Buffy sneered, ?And we all know how much you care about me??

?No, I care about stopping him,? he cut her off in a hard voice. ?And I 
care about sending his soul back to hell.?

?Why?? Buffy demanded. ?Because we both know that saving lives isn?t 
exactly your highest priority.?

?Because Angelus? first maneuver when he lost his soul was killing Dru.? 
The vampire swallowed hard and for a moment, Buffy half expected him to 
break into tears. ?He staked her out and watched from the shadows until the 
sun rose.? For a moment, his gaze was unfocused. ?When he told me about it, 
he laughed about scared she was.? He blinked, returning to the present, his 
voice becoming intense. ?So, you can believe I want to send him back to hell.?

Buffy stared at Spike, surprised by her sudden impulse to offer the vampire 
her condolences. She reminded herself what he was and what he could do.

Spike simply reached down to wrap a hand around Willow?s upper arm. ?Now, 
let?s go. I?m assuming you have a car.?

Buffy shoved his hand away from her friend, glaring at him as she growled, 
?Don?t you ever touch her.?

Spike?s brows lifted. ?Feeling a bit territorial,? he observed dryly, mouth 
twisted in the faintest of smiles.

?Just protective of my friends.?

Knowing they didn?t have time for her weakness, Willow pushed to her feet 
with a low groan, leaning heavily on Buffy when her friend automatically 
steadied her.

?Admirable,? Spike intoned. ?Which is why you shouldn?t stay here.? He 
straightened his shoulders. ?Now, I suggest we get your car,? he repeated 
the command with added emphasis. ?I have his lair narrowed down to one of 
three possibilities and you need to know where they are.?

Buffy shook her head. ?Don?t worry, I can find it on my own, because 
there?s no way I?m trusting you.?

Spike snorted something unkind under his breath, then argued. ?You?re 
outnumbered and you don?t have a chance on your own. Not in the nest he?ll 
have set up? He stared down at the Slayer with absolute confidence. ?You 
need me.?

?In your dreams,? Buffy snarled and gripped Willow?s arm tightly as she 
started to lead her away and toward her car, but Willow tensed, resisting 
the pressure.

Knowing that Spike was right and Buffy wouldn?t survive if she tried to 
face Angelus on her own, the redhead ducked her head, eyes flashing green 
fire, lips whispering secret incantations.

Spike?s eyes narrowed, suspecting something he had no way of understanding 
until it engulfed him. The fire struck him in the center of the chest, 
fingers of blue lightning playing over his body. Spike?s head tipped back 
and his mouth opened in a silent scream as he writhed under the light?s 
none too gentle touch. It was over in little more than a heartbeat. Spike 
fell forward, nearly toppling to his knees, then his head lifted, the 
demon?s face warping his normally handsome features as a feral snarl 
slipped from between clenched teeth.

?He?s telling the truth,? Willow said simply while Buffy stared at her in 
open-mouthed wonder. His lips drawn back from his fangs, Spike was ready to 
lunge, but uncertainty held him back. His gaze locked with Willow?s, he 
froze, wanting to attack, but sensing the danger. Buffy had her hand on a 
stake, but didn?t need to use it as the vampire slowly backed down. His 
eyes continued to flare with barely controlled hatred, but he didn?t attack.

?You want to die, little witch?? he snarled.

Willow faced his rage with deceptive calm. In reality, she was shaking 
inside and only staying upright through sheer force of will. It had been a 
long time since she?d performed that kind of magic and it took more out of 
her than she remembered. ?We had to know if we could trust you,? she said 
simply. ?Now we know we can...at least a little.?

Spike was not mollified and continued to stand braced. ?Don?t count on it.?

Buffy got between them, throwing her arms wide to keep them separated. ?All 
right, we can?t afford to go for each other?s throats.? She turned a hard 
gaze on ?Are you sure about him, Will??

The redhead slowly nodded her head. ?He?s telling the truth.? She shrugged. 
?But I don?t know how trustworthy he really is.?

?Right now, not bloody much,? the vampire growled, still ready to lunge.

Buffy met his enraged glare with a calm look. ?You want Angelus, you?d 
better be...or maybe Drusilla didn?t really mean that much to you,? she 
challenged.

Slowly, Spike straightened and regained control of his temper. Squaring his 
shoulders, he smoothed down the front of his jacket. ?Don?t ever do 
anything like that again,? he warned Willow grimly.

?Don?t worry,? she shot back. ?You mind is the last place I want to be.?

The two glared at each other, while Buffy stood between them, wondering at 
her own sanity. ?Fine,? she snapped, her hard tone directed at both of 
them. She turned her gaze on Spike. ?Now, you said you think you know where 
his lair might be,? she said, the request for information obvious in her tone.

?You have a car near here?? he questioned. ?We should get somewhere safe to 
discuss this.?

Buffy nodded toward the parking lot behind The Bronze. ?Red Mazda,? she 
clipped.

Spike started away, while Willow took a step or two then faltered, one hand 
rising to her temple as the earth tilted beneath her feet. Buffy noted the 
bout of dizziness and reached out to steady her friend by sliding an arm 
around her waist. ?You?ll be okay, Will,? Buffy whispered near her ear.

Spike glanced back, his tone ironic as he remarked, ?Don?t make promises 
you can?t keep, Slayer.?

Less than an hour later, they were safely ensconced in a small motel room 
on the outskirts of town--paid for with a small offering from Willow?s cash 
stash--and poring over a local map.

Spike circled a block in the worst section of town in red ink. ?This is 
where I think he is. I could be wrong.? He circled another area on the 
other end of town. ?I?ve also seen some of his people come out of a 
building here, but it?s not as defensible and I don?t think he?d risk it.?

?Besides,? Buffy added as she stared over his shoulder at the map. ?It?s a 
lot farther from the Hellmouth.?

?There is that,? Spike agreed.

Willow sat on the lone bed that seemed to take up most of the tiny room, 
her head in her hands, only distantly listening to the two as she tried to 
concentrate past the headache pounding violently in her temples. The only 
real comfort was the familiar sound of Buffy's voice. She hadn't realized, 
or perhaps more correctly hadn't allowed herself to consider how much she'd 
missed spending time with the Slayer. Eyes closed, still listening to the 
soothing sound, she stretched out on the bed, wrapping her arms tightly 
around the pillow and snuggling into the comforting softness. Her last 
conscious thought was that she was glad Buffy had called her for help this 
time, even if Angelus was involved.

Willow didn't even realize she'd fallen asleep until she felt the bed dip 
and came awake to find Buffy sitting on the mattress next to her. The 
Slayer's head was tipped to one side, her expression gentle. Willow blinked 
in confusion. "Spike?" she mumbled.

Buffy smiled tenderly. "He's gone. Morning's not far off and he needs to 
get back underground." Left unsaid was the fact that since their motel was 
as far as possible from anything that might serve as a vampire's lair, 
Spike had a ways to go.

Willow nodded. "Sorry I kinda faded on you," she apologized 
blearily.

Buffy gently brushed a few strands of hair back from Willow's temple. 
"S'okay. You earned some rest. You outdid yourself tonight."

Willow shook her head ever so slightly. "I didn't think..." she exhaled and 
trailed to a halt, uncertain exactly what she'd intended to say. "I didn't 
think I'd remember how," she husked at last. "It's been so long."

Buffy's fingers brushed the white scar at the edge of Willow's hairline and 
she shuddered as she remembered another time just over a year before when 
she'd stood beside a hospital bed, staring down at her best friend where 
she lay pale and unmoving, nearly dead for the sin of being the Slayer's 
friend. It was the moment when she'd started pulling back from Willow, 
wanting to keep her safe from the ugliness of the things she faced nightly. 
"I've missed you," she admitted at last.

"I never wanted to go anywhere," Willow answered without thinking, frowning 
as she remembered the hurt of slowly being blocked out of Buffy's 
life.

Buffy's eyes slid closed and she nodded. "I know...but after what happened 
with Faith...what she did to Angel...the way she tried to kill you..." 
Buffy shook her head with remembered horror as she continued to trace the 
thin scar with the pad of her thumb. There were other scars on Willow's 
body, deeper ones that would forever condemn her for her failure to protect 
her friend. "I couldn't take the chance you'd be hurt like that again."

Willow reached out, catching Buffy's hand in her own. "I made the choice to 
get involved knowing the risks--"
"You were a child when this started," the Slayer interrupted impatiently 
and pushed to her feet, pacing to let off energy.

"We all were," Willow pointed out as she pushed to a sitting position with 
a soft groan of effort. She blinked as the world tilted and threatened to 
spin, but didn't lose her train of thought. "Even the mighty Slayer. But 
I'm an adult now...and I'm where I want to be...where I've always wanted to 
be...and that's helping you."

Buffy pulled up short and did a slow pivot, her head canting to one side as 
she studied her friend. "It's not your job."

Willow's brows lifted. "I think I get to decide that," she argued.

Buffy retook her seat on the edge of the bed, staring at Willow through sad 
eyes. "Why do you do it?" she whispered at last. "I don't have a 
choice...even when I try to walk away, what I am follows me..." she fell 
silent, remembering once again.

"It's not your fault, you know," Willow broke into the grim memories. "When 
Faith regained consciousness, she had choices. She could have walked away." 
Left silent was the fact that if she had, Angel would still have his soul, 
and Willow wouldn't feel that strange ache in her breastbone every time a 
storm was on the way. "We all made choices...some good...some bad...and 
we've all had to pay for them."

"But you're the one who nearly died," Buffy said sadly.

"And Angel lost his soul, and Xander lost his friends, and you lost the man 
you love, and...and...and..." Willow trailed off, her point clear. They'd 
all suffered. She was tired of being cut out of Buffy's life because of the 
Slayer's fears. "Even Faith is to be pitied..." Willow shook her head. "She 
could have been something, but instead...instead she chose what she thought 
was the easy way...and died for it."

Buffy looked away. Willow had been unconscious when she'd killed Faith, 
only regaining consciousness days later, long after Faith had been buried. 
She only knew the dry facts and that was for the best. It was the only time 
in her life that Buffy had killed another human in an act of sheer fury. 
Even now, it made her stomach turn. She didn't want to think about it; 
sliding a knife blade into another person's body and seeing the life leave 
her eyes. She straightened, consciously making the decision to change the 
subject. "We both need sleep," she sighed.

Willow glanced over her shoulder, remembering that there was only one bed, 
then back at Buffy to find the Slayer peeling off her clothes with graceful 
ease. The hacker blinked in surprise while Buffy babbled tiredly.

"Sorry about the cramped quarters, but at least it's a big bed," the Slayer 
said through a yawn as she tossed her jeans aside. In moments, she was 
wearing nothing but her underwear and a lightweight camisole that left 
little, if anything, to the imagination. "Um, planning on sleeping in your 
shoes and clothes?"

Willow blinked, then flushed as she realized she was staring. And it's not 
like you've never seen her body before, she chastised herself mentally. 
After all, they'd spent their undergraduate years as roommates. In fact, 
just that morning, she'd stripped the nearly unconscious Slayer out of her 
clothes as she helped her to bed. But that had been different 
somehow--yeah, right, her subconscious taunted her, or maybe you're just 
too tired and too out of practice to keep the walls up tonight. "I guess 
I'm still a little woozy," she mumbled and ran a hand through her hair. "I 
just kind of floated off there for a moment." Willow carefully didn't say 
where she'd gone to mentally, instead closing her eyes as she tried to 
regain her equilibrium. She blinked her eyes open a heartbeat later as a 
hand landed on her shoe and began tugging at the laces.

"You looked like you could use some help," Buffy explained when Willow 
looked up at her through wide eyes.

Willow swallowed hard. "Oh." She realized a moment later, as she fumbled 
with her clothes that she was still pretty out of it. Her normally agile 
fingers couldn't even seem to handle the rigors of freeing a button and she 
cursed softly, then stiffened as the Slayer moved up to help, handling 
Willow the way she might have a small child as she helped her out of her 
jeans. Willow tried to reassert control and take over, but Buffy simply 
batted her uncoordinated efforts aside.

"Shh," the Slayer hushed. "Let me take care of you for once."

Willow frowned dazedly. "You've always taken care of me," she mumbled as 
she felt herself sinking back into sleep despite her best intentions.

Buffy stepped closer, reaching out to tenderly brushed Willow's hair back 
from her forehead. "Not nearly well enough," she breathed. "Not like 
you've always been there whenever I needed you...ready to do anything to 
help." She sighed softly. "I'm sorry I turned away. I just wanted to 
protect you."

Willow's eyelids were suddenly painfully heavy, but she reached out to 
catch Buffy's hand in her own. "Promise me you won't leave me again," she 
pleaded.

The silence that followed seemed agonizingly long, but then Buffy 
whispered, "I promise."

Willow relaxed into the mattress, finally surrendering once again to her 
exhaustion. She was already asleep when Buffy slid in beside her, then 
tugged the covers up over both of them.

* * * * * *
Xander Harris was drunk. Well, that was nothing new. He'd spent a lot of 
time drunk in the past year. He also didn't know the just barely legal 
blond hanging onto him, though that didn't seem to bother her in the least. 
Despite the fact that that also was nothing new, it was suddenly bothering 
him. Chalk it up to a visit from Buffy and Willow, reminding him that once 
upon a time he'd had real friends--or at least he had until he'd screwed it 
up. He rubbed his temple as they stepped out into the chill night air. It 
was nearly morning. He could already see a hint of violet on the eastern 
horizon. He distantly noted that the pretty blond was nibbling on his ear, 
but he paid her scant notice. He'd behaved like a jerk and he knew it. But 
then, he'd been behaving like a jerk for a long time. "Why don't you just 
grow up, Harris," he growled at himself, jerking away from the woman at his 
side as though she wasn't even there.

"Something wrong?" the girl questioned, reminding him that he'd been 
planning on yet another few hours of forgetfulness and physical release.

Xander waved a hand behind himself. "This was a bad idea. I'm sorry I 
wasted your time."

"Oh, it's no waste," a familiar voice drawled.

Xander spun, his head suddenly clearer than he would have thought possible. 
"Angel," he snarled in a voice thick with raw hate. The blond was standing 
next to the vampire, her own face equally twisted by the demon hiding 
inside her, but Xander had eyes only for Angelus. "So, you're back...like 
the proverbial bad penny. We should have killed you a long time ago."

A wicked smile twisted Angel's mouth, while the female vampire clung to him 
in perverse adoration. "You're so predictable, Xander." He laughed softly. 
"That's why I knew a pretty blond who bore a resemblance to a certain 
Slayer would be the way to catch you."

"Still need a woman to do your dirty work, I see," Xander taunted even as 
he tried to think of a way out of his predicament. He was blocked into a 
short alleyway with no way out, out of practice fighting vampires, and 
still slow with drink. He swallowed hard, suspecting he was facing the last 
few minutes of his life. He wasn't prepared for the speed of Angel's 
attack. The vampire leapt at him, wrapping powerful fingers around his 
throat as he slammed Xander into a wall, holding him up, well off his feet. 
The demon's face twisted his features as his lips lifted in a sneer.

"So, what's it like being the weak link in the chain?" Angelus demanded, 
using words to wound.
Xander gagged, struggling desperately as he felt his windpipe threaten to 
give way under the agonizing pressure.

"Buffy could fight...Willow was smart...Giles was educated...but what did 
you bring to the mix? I never quite understood that part," Angelus mused 
mockingly.

Dangerously close to blacking out, Xander heaved a punch at the vampire, 
throwing the last of his strength behind the blow. It was hard enough to 
rock Angelus' head sideways, but the vampire didn't loosen his hold.
In fact Angelus laughed at his victim's act of defiance. "Poor Xander. It 
must be hard going through life with all of those questions about your 
sexuality...always wondering and doubting--"

Xander threw another punch, splitting his knuckles on Angelus' cheek. Had 
he been capable of coherent thought, he would have been amazed he was still 
alive.

"Trying to pretend it was Buffy you were lusting after..." It was a purely 
male taunt, a way of twisting the knife just a little harder and Angelus 
was enjoying it. He leaned closer, his voice dropping low as he whispered 
in Xander's ear, his tone a mockery of affection. "And not me."

They were close now, Xander's feet almost on the ground, his back pressed 
solidly against the wall. Silently screaming in a combination of rage and 
panic, he braced one foot against the wall and kicked with the other, 
driving it solidly into Angelus' groin. The vampire doubled over, losing 
his grip on Xander's throat. Woozy and gasping for air, Xander slammed a 
fist downward into the other man's face, knocking him to his knees. He was 
free. His eyes lifted as he noted the blond vampire lunging his direction. 
Well, maybe free was an overstatement. He backpedaled as fast as he could, 
hands scrambling behind himself...and came up with a slat from a discarded 
crate just as she reached him. The flat board was a long way from the ideal 
weapon for vampire slaying, but he slapped it into the side of her head, 
stunning her just long enough for him to slam the slat against the wall at 
his back, shattering the brittle wood. Her head was just coming up when he 
plunged the resulting shard through her chest. Xander blinked his eyes to 
clear them as the air was filled with the smoky dust of fried vampire.

"Xander!" Angelus roared as he struggled to straighten.

Xander twisted toward the sound, scrambling to keep from going down the 
garbage strewn pavement. There was nowhere to run without going straight 
through his enemy.

"You've still got one chance to live,"the vampire snarled. "I don't want 
you. I want them...the Slayer and her little friend. You don't even care 
about them anymore. Help me and I'll let you live."

"Somehow I doubt that," Xander jeered.

"Why?" Angelus demanded, his tone derisive. "You were never important. It 
was always the others. You're no threat to me." Angelus straightened his 
spine, his visible struggle to hide his obvious pain giving Xander a small 
trace of hope.

"If that were true," the younger man disagreed, "you wouldn't be here."

Angel smiled and canted his head to one side. "I just wanted to see my 
little buddy one more time...tell you how I'm going to kill the Slayer and 
her Wiccan bitch...and then feed them to the devil himself to fuel my 
ascension."

"Like hell."

Demonic laughter echoed across the night. "What a perfect choice of words." 
Angelus started forward, his eyes deadly serious despite the smile that 
twisted his mouth. He only got two steps before a shot rang out, tearing 
through his chest from behind. The vampire twisted as another bullet ripped 
through his body, knocking him backwards. The third shot tore through his 
thigh, knocking him off his feet.
"Xander, come on!" a familiar voice shouted.

Xander didn't need to take time to think about it. He just dove around the 
flailing vampire and ran, eyes widening as he recognized his former 
girlfriend, Cordelia Chase. She was dressed all in black, her elegant frame 
nearly blending into the shadows, a pistol clenched in her raised hands, 
her eyes glittering with the fires of hell.

Angel tried to push upright and lunge for Xander, but another bullet tore 
through his thigh, knocking him back down. The bullets might not be able to 
kill him, but they hurt. "Cordelia," the vampire snarled. "Long time, no see."

Cordy tossed Xander the stake thrust through her belt. "I figured if I just 
watched long enough you'd show," the striking brunette growled and fired 
again--just for fun this time as far as Xander could tell.

"Still upset about that little...incident...I see," Angelus drawled.

"You killed Kate....and I plan on killing you."

Angelus laughed. "Cordy, Cordy, Cordy...you should know by now not to set 
such high goals for yourself." Despite his injuries, he pushed to his feet 
"I mean, you're really nothing to write home about...failed 
actress...unfaithful lover...lousy in bed..." Angelus turned his wickedly 
beautiful smile toward Xander. "Now sleeping with her never threatened his 
soul...or is that my soul...well, you know what I mean." He canted his head 
to one side. "Of course, that does make you the ideal choice for Xander 
when you think about it." Again the beautiful wolfish smile was turned 
toward Xander. "You ever hear from your ex, you know, the vengeance demon 
these days?"

"Leave Anya out of this," Xander growled.

"Speaking of lousy fucks..." Angelus taunted.

Xander would have lunged at him, but Cordelia grabbed his sleeve and hauled 
him back, then jerked her head toward the street. "Blue Toyota...the key's 
in the ignition. Go."

Angelus tried to adopt a relaxed pose, but he was still having a hard time 
remaining completely upright. Xander experienced a moment of perverse 
satisfaction as he ran for the car.

The demon eyed Cordelia with a raised brow. "Helping out Xander now, 
Cordy?" he drawled. "That's a bit of a change."

"Just shut up," the brunette snarled and fired her weapon again, sending a 
bullet tearing through his chest. She heard her tires squeal as Xander 
turned toward her, sending the headlights flaring across the bizarre 
tableau, and emptied the remaining bullets in the clip, firing more 
accurately than should have been possible. She'd practiced in the years 
since she'd been Sunnydale High's hottest cheerleader, Angel Investigations 
most useless secretary, and the Petticoat Junction remake's most forgotten 
daughter. Life hadn't been the same since high school, but Cordelia Chase 
was a survivor. Of the three remaining bullets, two tore into his upper 
thighs and the third ripped into his left knee, toppling Angel and drawing 
a scream of rage and pain. The injury would heal in a matter of hours, but 
he there was nothing he could do to stop Cordelia as Xander pulled the car 
alongside the curb and she leapt inside.

"Drive," the brunette ordered Xander as she grabbed a spare clip from the 
glove compartment, dropped the empty, rammed it home and chambered a fresh 
round like she'd been handling weapons all of her life.

"Where?" he panted after a long moment.

Cordelia glanced out of the car window, noting the faint light of morning 
approaching. "Just keep moving until it's light," she bit out. "And then we 
need to find Buffy. She's going to need all the help she can get."
* * * * * *
Willow struggled up through the haze to the awareness that the pillow under 
her cheek was rising and subsiding gently. She blinked, eyes adjusting to 
the semi darkness as it slowly sank in that her slowly moving pillow was in 
fact, Buffy Summer's chest, soft, warm, and barely covered by delicate 
silk. Willow froze, muscles stiffening as she tried to find a way out of 
her predicament with a minimum of embarrassment. It was that moment that 
she realized that someone was gently petting her hair back from her temple. 
No, not someone, Buffy.

"I know you're awake, Will," the Slayer said as if to punctuate the 
realization.

Willow snapped upright and skidded backward all in one motion, barely able 
to breathe as she apologized, "I'm sorry...I don't know what--"

"It's okay," Buffy assured her through a yawn. "You were so tired you just 
kind of snuggled up. It was like having a little animated teddy bear in bed 
with me."

Willow was profoundly grateful for the semi-darkness as she felt her cheeks 
flame violently. She was about to try and stammer out some kind of an 
explanation when Buffy continued speaking, a triumphant chuckle threading 
its way through her voice.

"By the way, you owe me."

Willow blinked in confusion, wondering if she'd stumbled through the 
looking glass without noticing. "Huh?"

Buffy pointed toward the window, where a strip of sunlight could distinctly 
be seen gleaming through a tiny gap along the edge of the heavy plastic 
backed curtains. "We had a little bet...it's morning...we're both still 
alive. Time to pay up."

"Oh...yeah...our bet..." Willow exhaled uncertainly. "Look, Buffy, I really 
don't--"

"Oh no," the Slayer cut her off with a teasing laugh. "You're not welching 
on your end of the deal." She pushed to a sitting position, leaning forward 
until they were almost nose to nose, pressing forward when Willow leaned 
back."The deal was if we were still alive in the morning, you'd tell me 
what happened between you and Xander."

"Buffy, I can't believe you'd hold anyone to such a silly bet."

A pale brow lifted and the Slayer's expression turned serious. "Normally, I 
wouldn't," she allowed, then reached out to curve her fingers to Willow's 
hand when it rested on her thigh. "But as much this has both of you knotted 
up and tearing at each other--and as much as you want to avoid it--I think 
it's important."

"Buffy, I--" Willow started to refuse and turn her head away, but Buffy 
reached out and hook her fingers to the underside of her friend's chin, 
drawing her head back around.

"Will, it's gotta stop."

"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?" Willow sighed.

Buffy shook her head, flashing a wry smile as she agreed, "You know me. I 
can't stand not knowing any secrets."

Willow's eyes slid closed. She really didn't want to go into all of it, but 
in a way it would be a relief to just get it out and get it all over with. 
Keeping secrets was a tiring endeavor at best. "After Anya left and Xander 
and I started seeing each other...it wasn't good, Buffy...we made great 
friends, but lousy lovers. We only slept together a couple of times and it 
was a disaster each time."

"God, Will, I'm sorry," Buffy sympathized honestly.

Willow shrugged. "I think I'd always been in love with idea of being in 
love with Xander. I wanted to be in love with him. It was hard to accept 
that maybe it wasn't such a good idea.... And then Cordelia came back to 
town...extended visit, you know...and things got complicated..." Willow 
trailed off, her expression distant as she remembered the past.

"He cheated on you with her, didn't he? I'll kill him." Buffy demanded, 
then instantly answered her own question, outraged at the idea. As long as 
Willow had worshiped Xander, the least he could have done was not fool 
around on her.

Wide eyed, Willow shook her head and held up a hand to forestall Buffy's 
impending tirade. "No...no, that's not what happened. Xander's not the one 
who slept with Cordelia."

"But if Xan--" Buffy fell silent, her mouth hanging open for a long beat. 
"Will," she croaked at last. "Are you telling me that you...that 
you...and...Cor...Cor..." Buffy couldn't quite get the name out. She'd 
gotten to where she could tolerate the former cheerleader--just barely--but 
the notion of her best friend and.... "Cordelia?" she exploded at last. 
"Please tell me you're not telling me what I think you're telling me."

Willow flushed deep crimson and continued, "It just kind of happened. 
Xander and I weren't getting along. I was at the Bronze having a drink when 
we ran into each other--"

"Okay, so you were drunk," Buffy exhaled and ran a shaking hand through her 
hair. "That almost makes it bearable." She didn't want to think about it. 
Didn't want to think about Willow, naked and rolling around with an equally 
naked Cordelia Chase. Drunkenness would make it easier to understand--no 
less nauseating-- but easier to live with. Obviously, Cordy had taken 
advantage when Willow wasn't at her best.

"I wasn't drunk," Willow disagreed, despite the temptation to blame 
everything on alcohol. It wouldn't have made the confessions any easier, 
but it might have blunted the repercussions, or at least her terror over 
the possible repercussion. "I'd had one beer--"

"Don't tell me that," Buffy snapped. She stared at Willow with wide eyes. 
"Cordelia?" she repeated, her voice little more than a squeak. "What is it 
with her, first Xander, then Angel, now you. What does she have, some sort 
of list she's marking off? Am I gonna have to sleep with her before this is 
over?"

"She's not that bad, Buffy," Willow exhaled defensively.

"So what happened then? She slept with my mother...Giles...what?"

"Xander walked in on us," Willow said simply. "He didn't take it well."

That deflated Buffy's obsession with the whole Cordelia thing. "Well, I 
guess that makes a few things make sense--are you sure you weren't drunk?" 
Well, mostly deflated her obsession with the Cordelia thing.

"No, Buffy, I wasn't drunk," Willow insisted impatiently. "I was 
stone-cold-sober and I slept with Cordelia. And, what's more, since then 
I've slept with other women...well, that is woman--singular--and well, I 
guess I'm gay--well, bi, anyways." Well, Buffy had said she wanted the 
truth, though Willow suspected she hadn't meant between the eyes with both 
barrels. She stood braced, waiting for a full blast of Slayer freakage.

Buffy blinked. She hadn't even thought about that part of things. She'd 
been too caught up in the whole awful Cordelia discovery. She frowned, 
processing this new data. "Oh."

As freakouts go, it was pretty much a total bust, leaving Willow as the 
surprised one. "You mean...you...doesn't it bother you?"

Buffy slowly stepped forward, staring at her friend with piercing 
intensity, searching the pale green depths of her eyes as though she might 
see something new. Finally, she shook her head, reaching out to take 
Willow's hand in her own. "No, you're still Willow...still my best 
friend--I coulda done without the Cordelia news--but it doesn't change 
anything." She squeezed Willow's hand tightly. They were almost nose to 
nose, staring into each other's eyes, and Buffy suddenly felt her heartrate 
pick up in a way that had nothing to do with Cordelia, naked or otherwise. 
She swallowed hard and wanted to look away, but couldn't as she was 
reminded of the ache in her chest that had been there since she'd 
meticulously carved Willow out of her life. For the first time in a year, 
she couldn't feel it. She had the urge to lift a hand to massage her chest 
and hunt for the hurt that should have been there. Scarey realization time: 
she felt whole for the first time in too long. Willow was still staring at 
her, her expression worried, scared of being rejected for who and what she 
was. Buffy knew that feeling too well. She'd spent her whole adult life in 
the Slayer-closet. "I love you, Will," she husked. "Nothing can change that."

Willow's eyes slid closed, her features relaxing with heartfelt relief as 
she let her head fall forward into her hand. Buffy could barely make out 
her exhaled, "Thank God."

The Slayer reached out and gently petted her friend's hair back from her 
brow. "I'm just sorry you didn't feel safe to tell me sooner."

"I just don't want you to hate me."

Buffy frowned. "I couldn't," she whispered and tucked a finger under 
Willow's chin, tugging her head up until their eyes met. "I could never 
hate you. Without you, my life, it's had this huge hole in it." She slipped 
her fingers into downy red hair at Willow's temple. "I've missed you so 
damn much." Buffy swallowed hard, painfully aware of the hammering of her 
own heart as it occurred to her that something she hadn't expected at all 
was going on. The ache in her heart had changed, or maybe it was just that 
she was feeling it differently. She rubbed her thumb over Willow's lower 
lip, stroking lightly. Strangely, the only surprise was that she wasn't 
surprised when Willow turned her head to press soft lips against the center 
of her palm.

Really scarey realization time. She liked it. Buffy slowly stretched her 
fingers, stroking Willow's cheek with the very tips of her gently trembling 
fingers. Sheer terror hammered at her brain as realizations tumbled, one on 
top of another, like a complex array of dominoes that, once set in motion, 
could not be stopped until she reached the end of the pattern. And then, 
bam, the last domino fell and she saw it all with aching clarity. She was 
in love with Willow--probably had been for a long time--which was about as 
terrifying as she could possibly imagine anything being. Losing Angel had 
nearly destroyed her. If she broke past that final barrier in her 
relationship with Willow, it would be a thousand times worse if she ever 
lost her--and considering what Angelus had planned, it was a very real 
possibility. A part of her wanted to walk away, take the safe path and 
protect her emotions for once. But Buffy Summers was the Slayer, the Chosen 
One, tasked to protect the world from a legion of demonic hosts. The safe 
path had never been much of an option in her life, not in matters of, not 
in matters of the soul, the body, or the heart.

"Will?" Buffy exhaled, her voice little more than a breath.

Willow's eyes were closed, her lips still pressed against Buffy's palm, and 
the Slayer could feel the tiniest of tremors shaking her friend's body. "I 
still have one more secret."

Buffy's eyes slid closed. "I know," she admitted and felt the newly filled 
hole in her chest warm with sweet emotion. She couldn't have walked away 
then, even if she'd truly wanted to.

"I love you," Willow confessed on the softest of exhalations. "I always have."

"I know." Buffy continued tenderly caressing Willow's cheek, incredibly 
aware of the softness of her skin. "I think at some level I've always known."

Another tremor wracked Willow's slender frame and she pressed her cheek 
more firmly against Buffy's hand as though seeking shelter from her own 
internal storm. Moss green eyes slid open as Willow peered at her best 
friend. "I don't want to be cut out of your life again," she choked.
"Never." The fingers on Willow's cheek gently guided her head up.

Buffy gently outlined cupid's bow lips, shivering when Willow's tongue 
darted out and brushed the pad of her thumb. She was standing at the edge 
of a chasm, Buffy realized in a moment of emotional vertigo. She could 
almost feel a cold arctic wind on her cheeks, whipping at her and 
threatening her already precarious equilibrium.

Willow lifted her hand to stroke her knuckles tenderly, while she continued 
to press her lips against her palm.

And then Buffy Summers tumbled. Falling end over end in open air, all 
thoughts of walking away as lost as she was. The hand resting so lightly 
against Willow's lips and cheek trailed back into the hair silky hair at 
the nape of her neck as she tugged her head forward.

The first meeting of their lips was tender, uncertain, a hesitant butterfly 
caress. They touched, pulled back a hand's breadth, peering into each 
other's eyes with unrestrained love and need, then leaned closer, lips 
meeting again. They kissed, parted ever so slightly, then kissed again, 
each meeting of their lips lasting longer than the one just before. Buffy 
tasted Willow's soft gasp as she pressed closer, deepening the soft 
caresses. A gentle hand lifted, stroking the Slayer's cheek and she felt a 
ripple of awareness slide through her. She was aroused, almost painfully 
so, her body throbbing with every unsteady beat of her heart.

"Will," Buffy's uttered a tiny gasp that sounded very unSlayerlike to her ears.

Willow reached up to stroke the furrowed line of Buffy's brow as if to 
smooth away the worries she saw there. She'd wanted to do that so many 
times from the earliest days of their friendship, but nearly always 
restrained herself, afraid of showing too much of her true feelings. Now 
she allowed herself the pleasure of simply petting the hair back from 
Buffy's brow, enjoying the texture of silk spun hair and pale velvet skin. 
"Buffy," she breathed her friend's name and trailed a finger along Buffy's 
cheek and then down the arch of her throat, finally letting the very tip 
rest in the faint hollow at the base, feeling the steady thrum of her 
pulse. The hacker's eyes dipped lower, touching on the pale flesh visible 
above the edge of the Slayer's camisole before moving on, taking in slender 
curves barely hidden by thin silk. As her eyes lifted again, she felt a 
flush crawl over her skin as she realized that Buffy was doing the same thing.

"Tell me," the Slayer whispered almost inaudibly as though she feared 
speaking any louder might destroy something indefinable. "Are we doing what 
I think we're doing?"

Willow turned her hand as she let it slide lower on Buffy's chest until her 
knuckles were resting against her rapidly rising and falling sternum. "I 
think we are." They both leaned forward, lips meeting in the middle of the 
narrow space that still separated them.

Willow shivered violently a second or two later as Buffy's hands landed on 
her hips. Stroking gently, the Slayer slipped under the bottom edge of the 
light t-shirt Willow was still wearing, caressing the soft skin just above 
her hipbones with the pads of her thumbs.

Leaving her hand resting on Buffy's chest, Willow moved the other to her 
waist, slipping her fingers up under the edge of her silky camisole. As 
their kisses deepened, fingers spread, caressed and moved on as clothes 
were pushed and pulled out of the way in the growing desperation to touch 
and be touched, then finally pulled off and abandoned entirely.

Buffy slipped her hand around Willow's waist, spreading her fingers against 
her narrow back and pulling her close until they were pressed close, bare 
skin touching bare skin almost from head to toe. Leaning against Buffy, 
Willow trailed a hand up her arm, feeling the flex and play of hard muscle 
and then the slight marring of flesh left by an old scar. She'd almost 
forgotten the leashed power of the Slayer and it was a potent reminder of 
the responsibilities that rested on such slender shoulders. Willow leaned 
forward to drop a tiny kiss over the old injury. She'd been hurt so many 
times that Willow just wanted to take all the pain away.

As if sensing her thoughts, Buffy worked her fingers into Willow's hair and 
gently tugged her head up. "It's okay...now..." She leaned forward until 
their lips were almost touching as she whispered, "Now that you're here." 
Their lips met again in raw open-mouthed kisses as they fell together, to 
the bed in a comfortable tangle, slender bodies winding together in the 
quest for more contact.

"You feel good," Buffy praised between long kisses.

Writhing beneath her newfound lover, Willow could only groan, "You have no 
idea."

Buffy chuckled softly against warm skin as she trailed her hands over 
smooth curves, drawing erotic patterns and leaving trails of sensual fire 
in the wake of her touch. "Oh, I think I might," she disagreed, shuddering 
under the heated impact of Willow's hands tenderly stroking her skin and 
searching out sensitive erogenous zones. The fleeting thought ran through 
her head that only Angel had ever instilled this sort of uncontrolled 
desire, and that had been so long ago. And then all coherent thought fled 
as their lovemaking gained in intensity, driving out all but the need for 
satisfaction.

Knowing that it might well be their only time together, they clung 
together, losing themselves in a passion that ebbed and flowed as the day 
passed. And when they slept, they lay curled together in an inseparable 
tangle, Buffy's cheek pillowed on silky red hair, Willow nosed into the 
curve of the Slayer's shoulder. Soon enough, the world would come crashing 
down around them, but in that moment, they were the entire universe. As she 
drifted off to sleep, Buffy wondered why it couldn't always be that way.

TO BE CONTINUED

--"If I was all that fond of real life, I would never have majored in theater"

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