Fic: Age of Solar (1/1) NC-17

[Caligryphy@xxxxxxx]

TITLE: Age of Solar (1/1) (2nd in the 'Soul Mine' series, First was 'Down 
Like Water')
AUTHOR: Calligraphy
E-MAIL: Caligryphy@xxxxxxx, PsychoCrack@xxxxxxxxxxx
DISTRIBUTION: Want it? Take it. Enjoy it. Send me the link, so I can 
visit.
RATING: B/W! NC-17! 
SUMMARY: It's more story-wise about Willow and Buffy, but Angel is involved. 
This takes place the same night of 'Down Like Water'. Several years into 
the Buffyverse future, Willow is Buffy's Watcher and Angel is along for the 
Slay ride.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing even remotely related to BTVS. Joss is the 
creator, Joss is God, Joss just plain IS. They own it all. Please don't 
sue. I have no money. This has not been beta-read.


*********

It was getting late. 

Angel slipped back out of the hotel room, straightening his T-shirt. He 
wasn't surprised to find Willow on the steps. He watched her for a moment. 
She was hugging his jacket to her small frame. She had to be cold.

"Willow." Her head tilted towards him. "...What are you singing?"

Her voice picked up, nearly too soft to be heard over the night wind. 

"I came down like water...
For the age of Solar...
Hail to the father...
Kiss your sons and daughters...
Goodbye, goodbye...
Steam steady roller...
Lady tongue controller...
Ten feet tall... better walk it back down..."

"That's pretty."

"It's from Velvet Goldmine."

"...Didn't see it."

"Too bad. Great movie. Unless you have homophobia issues." She laughed 
oddly. "Which we all know figure rather largely in my life."

"...Where've you been all night?"

"...Well, we for sure don't have to ask you that."

Angel rolled his eyes. "You didn't have to watch." 

"How could I ignore it?" She folded her arms and faced him, nearly swallowed 
in the jacket. "Could you have ignored it?"

The vampire's mouth crooked in the corner. Willow was observant enough to 
know it was his kind of smirking. "Had roles been reversed, I'm not sure I 
would've wanted to ignore it." 

She stood up, surprised. "Is that it? Are you getting off on this? 
Be-because, th-this is most definitely not a healthy way of behaving."

"Did you hate it?" She looked away. "Did you hate it?" 

"I can't talk about this."

<You better start talking about it, or you're going to be thinking about it.>

<Fuck you, asshole.>

"...a little repressed?"

"Me?" Willow ran her hands through her hair. She seemed to collect annoying 
habits, then group them together for use during stressful situations. 
"You're the vampire who-who-who--"

"Willow. Stop. You're either going to hemorrhage or strain something."

"You're the one who's growing an extra eyebrow ridge from all that brooding!" 
<Wow! Score me one, I am the red-headed insult machine!> Willow paced. 
Her clothing style was accented by the leather jacket, which gave her a 
biker-chick edge. Or at least, that's what she liked to think.

"If you like the jacket so much, I'll get you one." His expression was grim.

<Stop. That.> Little veins felt like they were standing out on her forehead.

<You first.>

"This isn't fair, Angel."

"What's not fair is not knowing whether you're sharing your girlfriend's 
affections with someone else."

"You want me to leave?" She threw up her hands. "Fine! I'll leave. Then 
I'll be disbarred from the Watcher's council and hate myself and I'll hate 
you and what are you doing still in my head?"

"Do you have feelings beyond friendship, for Buffy?" Flashes of fragmented 
memories flooded her brain and his. The two eating ice cream, the time her 
car broke down on the way to finals, that scene between the two in the 
bedroom...

"I don't even need to say anything, do I?" Her jaw muscles clenched. "I 
don't know if I have 'feelings' for her or not. I don't know. I've never 
considered that sort of relationship between us--"

"That's a lie, Willow."

"We're best friends!" She clapped her hand over her mouth, lowering the 
volume to an angry whisper. "That's it. Maybe the lines blur a little 
sometimes--"

"Blur?"

"--But that's what happens when you spend years--I'm talking years. As in, 
many moons. Years. That's what happens when you spend years alone together. 
Lines... blur." She was losing her arguing ground.

Angel closed the gap between them. "Willow, lines do not just blur. Do you, 
or do you not have feelings for Buffy?"

"Shouldn't you be a-asking Buffy about this? This is where your problem 
really lies, isn't it? This isn't even about me. If you have problems, you 
should go to her."

"Willow."

"This isn't about me!"

"You Watcher. She Slayer. Connection." 

"I'm not doing this." Willow turned abruptly and stalked down the street. 
The pavement was wet with sludgy ice, but she was forever clad in sensible 
shoes.

"Willow. Willow!" He raised his voice. "I'm not going to drop this! I 
want an answer!"

She stopped in her tracks, right in the middle of a huge puddle of slush. 
Willow lifted her shoes, shaking them free of water. "Stupid shoes..." She 
spotted Angel's pursuit before he finished putting the next foot forward. 
"Stop! Stop right there, okay?" Before Willow knew it, tears were brimming. 
"Look! Do you..." 

He watched as she covered her face with her hands, speaking out from under 
them like they were a shield. 

"...Do you have any idea..." She wiped tears away. "Do you have any idea 
how lonely I am?! Do you?!" Suddenly she was burning up. That stupid 
leather jacket--"I haven't had sex with anyone in four years--Four Years!--I 
haven't had a meaningful relationship with anyone besides my mouse and books 
and occasionally I got to talk to Buffy--" Her hands were tangled in the 
sleeves of the jacket. The Watcher ripped them free. "--But then you came 
along and we were all friends and my life was getting a little more normal 
and then we restored your soul and then I never even get to talk to Buffy 
anymore and I hate my job and I'm tired of moving and I hate my family and my 
life!" Willow gasped for breath, tears pouring down her cheeks. She'd 
unfortunately worn a little mascara. It was running. 

Angel was at her side in a moment. "I'm... sorry." It was all he had to 
offer.

"Don't--touch me!" She shoved the jacket at him. "Just take your stupid 
leather jacket and your stupid depressive face and pick some other shadow to 
slouch in. The ones out here are taken." Willow stalked back towards the 
hotel. He didn't follow.

********

Buffy was on the phone when Willow stormed in, slamming the door behind her. 

"...at's what those things are made of? Heya, Will." She said 
conversationally. "Xander? Gotta go... Yeah, Willow's here..." The Slayer 
watched her best friend pull a suitcase out of the closet and slam it down on 
the floor, grabbing clothes off hangers angrily. "But I don't think she 
wants to talk. I'll call tomorrow night. Good luck. Bye." She hung up 
quietly. Willow was stuffing her garments into the suitcase, swearing under 
her breath. When she finally moved to the dresser, Buffy spoke. "Will? 
...Are we leaving again?"

"No." Her watcher picked up her latest demonology book and used it to weight 
the first suitcase so that she could zip it. "You and Angel are staying 
here."

"...Where are you going?" 

"Away." 

Buffy pounced. "What do you mean, away? Does this have something to do with 
Angel? You two didn't have a fight, did you?"

"Angel, angel, angel. It's all I hear anymore. But, yes Buffy. It does 
have something to do with Angel. I am tired of having to put up with you two 
sucking face all the time. You're in your mid-twenties, the hormone levels 
are supposed to at least plateau." She zipped the case, looking remarkably 
Gilesean. "Frankly, what's his excuse? He's two-fifty something. He should 
get a little more mature."

"...Do you want him to go?" The redhead looked up at Buffy, who was chewing 
seriously on her bottom lip. "...Cause... he can... if... we have to."

Willow sighed. "I'm not going to make you choose between us, that's what I 
keep telling him--"

"He wanted me to choose between the two of you?" The Slayer didn't miss a 
trick. She bit down on her lower lip this time. 

"N-n-no, Buffy, I mean--"

"He did. He did say that, didn't he? God... Will. Wills. Put your stuff 
back. You aren't going anywhere." The blonde rose angrily, searching the 
room for her shoes.

"Buffy--Buffy, no. This isn't about Angel." The Watcher grabbed Buffy by 
the arm, halting the Slayer only as long as she chose to be halted. "I--I'm 
...having..." Willow threw her hands into the air. "Look, I'm just... 
things aren't working out. They aren't working out, I have to go somewhere--"

"Stop. Rewind. Pause." Buffy put her hands on her hips. "They were 
working out fine before."

"Yeah. Well. Things change."

"See--this, this is what I don't understand!" The Slayer wailed. Willow 
could be just as tight-lipped and unforthcoming as Angel could be. It was 
their main similarity. "What? What things?! What are 'things'?!" Buffy 
watched her pack with more than a little annoyance. "Willow. ...Willow. 
Talk to me. You're my best friend."

"That's where you've got it wrong, Buffy. I'm your Watcher first. I could 
stay here and be your best friend, I could be fun, loveable old Wills 
forever, but I can't be your best friend and your Watcher without putting us 
all in danger--"

"Wills. You're babbling."

"I'm leaving, Buffy. Someone else should be doing this job. I should've 
known. I belong in a software company somewhere."

"That's not true. Fine. You leave me no choice. I quit too."

"What?"

Buffy blinked. "I quit. I quit being a Slayer. I'm all unhappy, and it so 
gets in the way of real life--"

"That's not funny. You wouldn't understand why I can't be your Watcher 
anymore."

"What, because we're friends? Because you're more than my secretary? Wills. 
I need you here." 

In the pinpricks of the back of her mind, Willow could feel Angel listening. 
Trying to shut him out, she concentrated on what her Slayer was saying. "I 
know, but... things aren't so simple anymore."

"What things, Wills? You can tell me. I am so here for you, it's like, I 
don't even see anything else." Buffy smiled. "Whatever it is, I promise not 
to get mad or break floor lamps."

This earned a snicker from the pained Watcher. Three years ago they'd had 
the brawl of the century at Buffy's mother's house on Christmas Eve. They 
had both renounced the friendship, Willow had smacked Buffy... It was bad all 
around. Everything came to a full boil that night, ending with when Buffy 
had picked up her mother's floor lamp and smashed it against the wall. Joyce 
came in with a very puzzled expression and asked what had happened. Buffy 
took one look at Willow and they'd both said at the same time, 'Training.' 
After that, they'd burst into giggles and apologized profusely to each other, 
promising never to fight again.

Angel was still listening in on her thoughts. It was driving Willow slowly 
bonkers. He wanted her to tell Buffy, to see what the reaction would be. 
"...What the hell. You know, what the hell, right? Okay." The witch ran 
her hands through her hair again. "The thing is... I love you." 
Anticipatory cringe. 

Buffy blinked. "I love you too, Wills."

"No. Ha. God, this is hard... I mean, I love you. I Love You. Love love. 
Not best friend love. ...You remember Tara, the witch, from college?" At 
this point, Willow really wished she'd planned this whole thing better. 
Buffy nodded. "Well, let's just say that the whole Tara thing wasn't exactly 
a fluke. ...More like a life choice. Do you know what I'm trying to say?" 
The Slayer was dumbstruck. She nodded, mutely. The 'Tara Thing' had long 
been shoved under the rug. "See? Some 'things' are best left unsaid. That's 
why I can't stay here. I can't do this anymore." Willow calmly packed, 
trying to ignore her unswerving gaze. "I care about both you and Angel, I 
wouldn't want you to think--"

"Stop." Buffy got out. "Wills." The Slayer parked herself on the edge of 
the bed, clasping her hands in her lap. Willow was gay. Well, it was a 
thing she'd suspected from time to time, not incredibly shocking. But "You 
love me?"

"Yeah. In a non-platonic, non-sisterly sort of way." The Watcher zipped her 
suitcase. "I think it's best if I go. They'll send another Watcher along 
right away, and hopefully Lavriek won't come out of hiding until then."

Buffy shook her head. "Do we remember someone called Wesley Wyndham Price? 
Wills. It's just a thing. We can get past it--"

"This isn't something you get past." She furrowed a brow. "Look, it's 
obvious you don't return any feelilngs--"

"How would you know?" That caught the Watcher off-guard. 

"Willow." Their gazes locked. "...We... never talked... about 
that-thing-that-time."

"Oh. That thing." When she'd kissed Buffy the first time. When they'd 
chalked it all up to a bed/wound fluke and left it alone. "Well, see, I 
believe in flukes. Don't you?" She managed a weak laugh. 

"Wills..."

"Yeah?"

"Would you...?" Willow hung her head. "Kiss me." 

"Wha..." A strangled gasp burst from her throat. "Oh. Well, er. Yeah. I 
guess. I mean--" Buffy reached out, taking her best friend's hands in her 
own. She felt the usually in control watcher trembling.

"I don't know if this is a good idea, Buffy. I mean, I might--I 
don't--I--what if--" 

"It's okay." The Slayer offered a small but unsure smile. 

The air sparked in front of them. She leaned forward, almost imperceptibly 
it seemed, and gently pressed her lips against her best friend in the world. 
The woman she was in love with. Their arms entangled, deepening the kiss. 
Willow's heart raced. Her tongue darted briefly into the curve of her 
Slayer's mouth, allowing herself one delicate caress before she pulled away.

Willow lived by clocks, but couldn't at that moment tell how much time had 
passed. She was panting slightly. Buffy seemed to be a little winded 
herself. Neither of them spoke. It would've been a needless effort. They 
gazed at each other, swollen lips parted. The Slayer raised her palm to 
Willow's chest, pressing it flat to her heart. 

Willow's breath caught. Buffy leaned in, the outlines of her body's curves 
brushing her Watcher's. Her hands met the redhead's shoulders, rubbing them 
softly before her fingers slid down the woman's side, her touch featherlight 
over the tightness of her arms, the soft roundness of her breasts, falling to 
grasp her narrow waist. Her parted lips were less than an inch from 
Willow's, begging to be plundered again. "...Wills."

The hacker could feel Buffy's warm breath on her neck. She felt so awkward, 
yet so right. Everything in her upbringing screamed to end this. But, 
goddess above, it was such a sweet trespass. Willow surrendered, catching 
the Slayer's lips with her own. Neither had to coax an entry. Their tongues 
mated as they longed to, full of thrust, caress, and blind desire. 

She didn't remember who did it, but suddenly she was on top of Buffy on the 
bed. They'd been kissing and the world shifted horizontally. The Slayer 
made erotic little moans against her mouth, erasing any inexperience Willow 
had with simple ardor and excitement. The witch propped herself on her 
hands, drawing out the kisses, letting Buffy lift up into them. 

Stopping for a much needed breath, they seperated at the mouth, the rest of 
their bodies realizing how much in full contact they actually were. Willow 
could feel the insistent throbbing between her legs grow. Her hips 
unconsciously, or maybe they just had a mind of their own, thrust against 
Buffy's. That same flush of embarassment heated Willow's cheeks. "Buffy, 
I'm--" The Slayer silenced her by pulling her back down, nose-to-nose. They 
looked into each other's eyes for a long minute. Buffy whispered something. 
"What?"

"I said... I want to feel you on me." Willow was a little confused by that. 
Buffy raised her leg against the dampening crotch of Willow's jeans, rubbing 
her thigh along her most sensitive area. Willow mimicked the motion after a 
pause, leaning her full weight into Buffy as the Slayer's hands guided. They 
rocked against one another, earth-shattering kisses forgotten for the moment. 
The flowery scent of Buffy's hair filled her nostrils, mingled groans of not 
wanting to go further and at the same time longing to desperately assailed 
her ears. 

********

Angel sat in the dark alley by the hotel room. Breath he didn't think he'd 
needed came ragged. He couldn't go back to the hotel room for what was 
currently going on there. When they'd lain down, he'd given up, scanning the 
alley quickly and selecting a secluded corner where he could open up his mind 
completely to Willow's thoughts. 

"Oh, god..." He groaned aloud, hands clawing at the ground below him. Angel 
closed his eyes. He could smell the musk in the air, feel their hips 
grinding together madly. He looked one last panicked time around the alley 
before losing himself to the sensation.

********

"Oh, god..." Buffy's hands had worked their way underneath the waistband of 
Willow's jeans, kneading the soft flesh at her waist. She was so soft, so 
warm, so--perfect. Her hands moved upward, carressing the delicate lines of 
her stomach muscles. To be with Willow was so different. The Watcher's 
weight felt comfortable, covering her body like--there was just nothing 
adequate to describe it. A man's touch is wonderful, but a woman's touch is 
something special indeed. It knows exactly where to concentrate. 

The buttons on Willow's jeans came apart teasingly, one by one. Buffy 
grinned as the redhead pulled away long enough to slide out of her jeans. 
Her breath caught when Willow bent over her again, pushing her shirt up to 
expose her midsection. Willow planted kisses over her stomach, purring 
against her toned flesh as the Slayer's hands worked through her hair. 

Willow paused over the elastic of Buffy's jogging shorts, looking up into her 
lover's eyes for permission. Lover? Willow thought. That was certainly 
what was happening now felt like. But what if it was a lie? 

"Wills?" Buffy panted, not wanting to shatter the tenuous seduction they'd 
acheived.

Then it'll wait for tomorrow, she thought, bending to swirl her tongue 
against the Slayer's navel. Willow slid the shorts and panties off, 
divesting Buffy of her socks on her way down. 

The Slayer closed her eyes as Willow lavished attention. It was so good to 
be with the warmth of someone. Not that vampires wer--

"Oh!" She gripped the sheets, making a note never to stop paying attention 
to what Willow was doing. The red head lifted up to look at Buffy. Willow 
tilted her head as if to ask 'okay?' Buffy bit her lip before taking a 
ragged breath. 

"Could we--go a little slower?"

Willow blushed furiously, a measure of reality coming back into the night. 
"Sorry, I--"

"No!" Buffy interjected, a little too loudly. She corrected. "No. Don't 
say you're sorry. Just--a little slower? Please."

"Okay." She grinned, guiltily. "Jumped the gun a little." 

"It's all right. Come up here?"

Willow stood. The Watcher gazed once more over her lover, this glance long 
and slow, like all the glances before should've been. Before, they were 
stolen looks. Usually over Angel's shoulder. Buffy reclined slightly, but 
Willow had other ideas. 

She crossed her arms and pulled the shirt over her head, revealing small but 
very nice-looking breasts. Her nipples stood out in high relief, chest 
heaving slightly. The intoxicating knowledge that she was finally doing 
something she'd longed to hit home, along with lots of adrenaline. Scooting 
up to join Buffy on the bed, Willow stopped to kick her suitcase to the 
floor, stretching herself once more over the Slayer.

Buffy raised her arms over her head, allowing Willow to remove her T-shirt. 
The bra soon followed. A giggle escaped the Slayer as they held each other 
once more. 

"What?"

The blonde shrugged, sinking herself in the warmth. "I just think we're 
funny."

"Yeah. Yes, we are." She laid a kiss in the hollow of Buffy's throat, their 
hands intertwined as Willow explored the entirety of her neck, shoulders, and 
finally her lips caught a nipple. She kissed, tugged, and teased, flicking 
her tongue over her sensitive flesh, her hands released and moving over her 
Slayer's body. Buffy's hands were in her hair. 

Tentatively, Willow slid her fingers through her friend's nether curls, 
cupping her sex gently. She looked up at Buffy.

Buffy shivered, gooseflesh standing out all over her body. She pulled 
Willow's mouth towards her, lips claiming complete ownership of her best 
friend. The redhead stroked her curls, the Slayer mewling for more contact. 
Ever so lightly, Willow eased her way further, curiously dipping her fingers 
into her lover's core, marveling at how wet she was before realizing that her 
own wetness was practically dripping down her legs. 

Curiosity satisfied, her thumb sought out that particular concentration of 
nerves. The Slayer stilled under her sudden touch, but relaxed as Willow 
continued the assault on her clit. 

All of Buffy's energy was focused on what Willow was doing to her body. She 
stared down at her friend's wrist, hypnotized by the way it moved in slow 
strokes, her hips bucking underneath its ministrations. 

"Look at me." The Slayer turned her head, gazing into the deep green of 
Willow's eyes. If you looked far enough into them, you could see a rainbow 
inside, floating just on the outside of her pupils. She began breathing 
harder, getting that feeling you get when you almost can't take any more, but 
you know the progress will be rewarded. 

"Wills..." She moaned, voice tinged with desperation and want. The hacker 
pumped harder, rubbing tight circles over her clit, her other hand slipping 
two fingers into her lover's center. Buffy writhed on the bed, losing most 
of her contact with the coherent world as starbursts flooded her vision. She 
screamed Willow's name, loud enough to wake the rest of the hotel.