Girl's Night Out
by Exiled-Too
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Girl's Night Out
"Hullo Slayer." Spike says to Buffy as he walks up to our table. It was hard to hear him over the band playing. Buffy and I had just spent the better part of the night dancing and now we were sitting down trying to cool off with our drinks. Mixed for me, Coke for her.
"Hello Spike, what do you want?" She answers him. The look of distaste that is forming on her face should warn him away. I say 'should,' but we are talking about Spike here.
"Just wonderin' if you'll be patrolling tonight? All the baddies and such...." He leaves it hanging that he would normally be one of those baddies that Buffy would be after. She rolls her eyes and looks at me.
"Yes, Spike. Now just leave me alone, you give me the creeps since you claimed to love me!" William the Bloody is about to become William the Dusty if he doesn't get away from my best friend. I can see the color of her eyes beginning to change, which means the Slayer is going to be making an appearance in about 10 seconds.
But the stupid Vamp doesn't vamoose, the idiot leans nearly across the table to brush a strand of golden hair out of Buffy's face. Nice gesture except for nearly knocking over her Coke when he straightens. Otherwise I would have given him an A for effort.
The Slayer gets a thunderous expression and finally the vamp takes the hint. Raising his hands in front of him he quickly backs away from the table. I think he's halfway expecting Buffy to stake him anyway. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part?
"Jeeze Will what's up with him?" She turns back to me perplexed. All I can do is shrug my shoulders and take another long slurp from my drink. I love it when her eyes sparkle like that, it's almost like I can see the wheels turning in her head.
"Buffy, let's forget about the evil undead and have fun! This is your 'cheer up from Riley leaving night out'." I tell her and I can't believe that my tongue is actually working well enough to say all that in one sentence.... Speaking of which, something else I love about Buffy is the way the sweat beads on her forehead, turning the color of her hair from bright gold to ... oh, no, I really have had too much to drink!
"Will, are you ok?" My best friend in the whole world asks me. I notice worry lines are beginning to crease her brow and I can't have that tonight. This is girl's night out mopping, well except that neither Tara nor Anya could make it, so it's just me and Buffy. Or should that be Buffy and I? I can never ever remember what the 'new' grammar rules are supposed to be. Oops, I just ended a sentence with a preposition! I start to giggle at my new found grammar freedom.
"Hey Buff, you might be the mighty Slayer of all things evil, but I'm the Slayer of good grammar rules!" I declare to her, which is better than declaring my undying love for her.
The crease I noticed earlier on her forehead is now turning into the Grand Canyon.
"Willow! You're drunk!" She nearly shouts it out for all the Bronze patrons to hear.
"Well, duh! Slayer," I slur the words on purpose because she's so damn cute when her eyebrows start racing for her hairline. Did I just think a dirty word?
She sits back in her chair with the loveliest expression of exasperation. Not the kind of expression that she had with Spike, but a nice soft one, the kind that says 'I kind love you and I think its ok to be a geek.' Well, maybe she doesn't think the Geek part ... just the 'I kind of love you' part.
"OK Will, let's get you home." She tells me taking a big gulp, hey isn't that a drink by 7-Eleven? Oh never mind, she finishes off her Coke and stands up to put her coat on.
I know I've watched her put her coat on at least a hundred times before today but this is the first time I really saw her hands. They are so small and fine boned. How in the world can they ever have enough power to knock a vamp head over heels? Do you know how much force it requires to shove a dull wooden stake through solid bone and muscle to get to the heart? How can those hands, with their nice and blunt nails, ever do it?
Let's see... if force is F and bone mass is B then F multiplied ....
"Willow?" I look up.
"Buffy how'd you get here?" I ask her how she disappeared from her side of the table to end up on mine, and holding my coat no less.
"Wow, you're fast!" I wink at her.
She just sighs. It's supposed to be a long suffering sigh, I can tell. Only the corners of her mouth are trying to turn up into a smile so that ruins the effect.
I stand and let her help me with my coat. Those nice strong, and did I mention warm, hands brush against my neck as she pulls out my long hair.
Thank you hair. As shivers dance merrily down my spine from her touch.
She lifts my arm to her shoulders and slips her arm around my waist to steady me. I keep my mouth shut as she guides me out of the warm interior of the club into the cold night.
So-Cal is normally warm, except in the middle of winter, when it can and does get below freezing at night. I fail to mention that as soon as the cold dry air hit my face I'm sober. I didn't need her help in the Bronze and I really don't need it now walking down the street towards the College.
Why do we call it the College when it's the University? I shake my head to clear it. I really shouldn't drink....
"I'll drop you off with Tara before I start my patrol." She's telling me as my attention comes back into focus and I just hear the end of what she's saying.
"Tara's not there tonight, she's gone ...." I inform my savior. Where has Tara gone I wonder? Oh, now I remember to LA with the Wanna Blessed Bes's.
"Oh, well, that's fine." Buffy tells me as we reach the campus.
Buffy sticks to the well lighted and busy paths, which is the longer way to my dorm but it's safer. Plus there is the added perk of being in her warm arms for a little more time. Did I mention just how warm they are on such a cold night?
The vamps rarely hunt on these paths, they're to open--they prefer ambushes--speaking of which... where did he come from?
"Slayer?" Spike nods at Buffy and I can feel her muscles tightening through her heavy coat. Something is going on with her spidy sense, I just know it.
Fun time is over.
I straighten up and step out of her arms so she will know that I'm not impaired. I learned in High School that if Buffy's worried about protecting me or one of the gang that she can't concentrate on the fight.
"I'm alright," I tell her backing away. "I'll stay out of it."
"That's right luv," Spike says keeping his eyes on the Slayer. "You keep away from my Slayer and I might change you instead of killing you outright."
"Pretty cocky for someone that can't hit, aren't you Spike?" Buffy taunts back. I feel the Slayer extending; I don't know what it is exactly, the Slayer's sixth sense? It's coming out of her and its trying to find other vamps in their hiding place. All the time she's holding Spike gaze, I swear if she were a cat her back would be arched.
"You see Slayer, that little piece of technology stopped working about the time Dru was here." He lights a cigarette, if there was something to lean on he would be doing that, too.
Anything to look cool, I think.
'Why isn't' he fighting?' The thought just pops into my head. I know by the way Buffy is standing that her Slayer sense hasn't picked up on other vamps in the area, so this show is just him. I start getting a very bad feeling about this; Spike knows that Buffy can kick his ass from one side of Sunnydale to the other. He knows that Buffy will kill him now that the chip has stopped working.
I think back to the Bronze and how he just wouldn't leave. How he pushed his luck by leaning over the table and .... How he nearly knocked her Coke over.
"Buffy run!" I shout and grab her hand as I dash by, dragging her with me. Thank God she trusts me because I feel no resistance. I would never be able to 'drag' the Slayer anywhere she didn't want to go.
Spike reaches out to stop us as we run past, but one well placed punch by Buffy sends him sprawling into the bushes.
I hear cussing behind us as we turn the corner and my dorm comes into view. Buffy begins to slow down; I know what she's thinking.
"Com'on" I urge. "I'm not safe until I'm in my room." I tell her knowing that she's going to try and drop me off and then go after Spike. She'll stay with me now.
We hit the front door at a run and then dash up the stairs. I'm glad I'm in shape otherwise this mad dash would have left me breathless. The room door is unlocked, a precaution I now take since I'm living at Hellmouth U. and I'm the Slayer's best friend. Vamps can enter the dorms but they can't come into the rooms.
Still as soon as we're in the door I slam it and throw the deadbolt. I lean back against the door breathing heavily; I guess I'm not in as good of shape as I should be.
"OK Will what's the up?" My best friend asks me turning around in the middle of the room. Her hands are on her hips and her posture is that of the Slayer's. I know that if the lights were brighter then her eyes would be blue instead of hazel. "You know I have to get out there and take care of Spike before he can kill anymore people."
"Buffy I can't let you leave." Maybe that didn't come out the way I planned it? I rethink, back up, rewind.
"Buffy," I start again. "I think Spike put something in your drink at the Bronze."
"What Will? He couldn't have." She starts shaking her head. "Besides, it's been 20 to 30 minutes; if there was something in my Coke then I would have felt it by now."
She starts towards the door; maybe she's right. Maybe I'm mistaken? One second Buffy is walking toward me, the next she's on her knees getting sick in my trashcan. I hesitate for only a moment before I get a wash cloth from the sink and run cold water through it. I then kneel next to my best friend and wipe her face.
"Easy, its ok, I've got you." I keep up the steady stream so that she can ground herself in my voice. I don't know if it helps her, but when I'm sick Tara does this for me and it works.
After a few minutes she seems to stop so I pull her into my lap. I cradle her head and shoulders as if she was a baby and finish cleaning her face.
"Bad taste," she tells me smacking her lips. I reach up to the sink and grab the mouthwash and hold it so she can take a swig. After she rinses her mouth out I give her a little sip of water.
She melts back into my arms and just stares up into my face.
"Thanks Will. I—I don't...." I watch as she just fades away. Her expressive eyes losing focus. The irises becoming so dilated that they're almost black.
She clumsily reaches her fingers up to trace my jaw line. "My Will so, so beautiful." To say I'm speechless would be the understatement of the century. "I love you so much!" She declares, her words beginning to slur. And the world drops out from under me.
"Shh, Buffy, we don't know what Spike gave you." I try to get her to be quiet. She's lying in my arms on the floor, saying the things that I've dreamed of hearing. I want to pretend for just a second that she means what she's saying but I just can't trust it.
"I mean it Willow; I've always wanted you." She whispers as her hand reaches behind my neck and she pulls me down into a kiss. I know I've been kissed before, Oz was a wonderful kisser. Tara's lips are heavenly. I know that and yet, as soon as I make contact with her softness a fire burns its way through me. With Tara I feel a fire in my center, with Buffy I am on fire.
She deepens the kiss, her tongue asking for entrance and it's the most intimate thing I have ever felt in my life. Her strong arms wrap around me and I can no longer deny her hunger. Buffy never lies, she will avoid telling you something, she'll keep her secrets until you have to pry them out of her, but she never lies.
This ... sharing is as honest as the Slayer can be, I know it. I know it deep in the place where I hide most of the time. What she's feeling right now is the truth.
Air becomes an issue so I break the contact. I see the heat, the want, the need in her eyes. They've changed color yet again, to a dark brown.
"I love you so much Willow!" Buffy tells me as she pulls me closer to her, into a deeper hug. I think she's trying to climb inside me. She's still in my lap except now I'm bent over her as she holds me, so tightly....
My inter restraints are loosening, the frightened inner-Willow, the 15 year old that Cordelia loved to pick on is coming out. She's coming out and walking out the door because Buffy Anne Summers, the Slayer, the Chosen One loves me.
Then her arms just lose their strength and flop to the sides.
"Will, I'm really tired...." Buffy blinks slowly.
'Yeah, right. Spike, drug, bed.'
"Can you stand up?" I ask her, moving out from under her. She gets to her knees, then to her feet as I lift up. She struggles to the bed and we both fall forward onto it.
"Buffy can you...." I realize that she's out.
It takes me a few minutes to pull her up so she's completely on the bed. Then I take off her boots and cover her. I still don't know what Spike put in her drink, I think its Roofies, which means she's going to be out for a while.
I call Mrs. Summers to tell her that Buffy is going to crash at my place tonight. Then I call Giles to tell him about Spike. He's worried and concerned but agrees that it's best if Buffy stays in my room. We hang up so he can call Xander and warn him.
For some reason I don't think Spike will be a problem. I think he made his play for Buffy and now he'll pack up and head after Dru. As I said before, the Slayer can take him under normal conditions, and now Buffy will be mad.
It's about three hours later when Buffy wakes the first time.
"Willow?" She's blinking her eyes open. I'm sitting at my desk researching my Pysch paper. "Thirsty."
I get her some water, but she still doesn't have the muscle control to hold the cup. So I prop her up with some pillows and then sit on the side of the bed helping her drink.
"How'd I get here?" she asks confused. "What happened? Last I remember we were at the Bronze dancing."
I won't cry. I won't cry. I repeat it over and over. What can I say? Buffy you got drugged and then told me you loved me?
And then there is also Tara....
Thankfully she falls right back asleep—so she doesn't see my tears as they slip silently down my face.
The End
Bright Blessings,
Exiled
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