Girl's Night Out - Too
by Exiled-Too
Girl's Night Out - Too
[reviews]
Girl's Night Out -Too
We were back at the Bronze dancing. It was a nice surprise to see that 'The Dingoes Ate My Baby' were back in business. Devon had dropped by for a brief chat between sets and it had been fun to talk about old times.
Though, it wasn't so much fun that it made up for the fact that I was dragged here against my will. Just like I dragged Buffy here last week against hers. It was girl's night out, again. Only instead me of trying to help Buffy over Riley; Buffy is helping me get over Tara. She thinks that Tara left me, that when she returned from the Wiccan meeting in LA on Sunday she had decided to move out. What I didn't tell Buffy was that I asked Tara to move out.
I didn't love Tara.
How could I keep living a lie? How could I let Tara think that she was my soul mate when she wasn't? How could I keep denying the fact that I love Buffy and have since the first time I spoke to her.
I look up to see Buffy dancing with some guy that had asked her. She loves to dance, she loves to move for the sheer joy it brings her. She's not the best dancer in the club, nor is she the prettiest girl, but there is just something about her zest for life that attracts people. It's in the way she moves on the dance floor and in the way she fights, she has a fluid grace. Buffy is a predator in love with the hunt, in love with the game. It can be any hunt, the best buy at Target, or the Chaos demon about to end the world; it's all the same to her.
I watch her when she's dancing, or when she's fighting, and I almost feel like a voyeur because hunting, or fighting, slaying is like sex for her. The build up, the chase, the fight, then the climax of the kill. It's all the same and what truly frightens her is that it doesn't matter which she does ... and that is her terrible secret.
'A delicate ferocity' that draws people to her like a flame does a moth.
And oh God, sometimes in the darkest of nights she comes to me in my dreams. Not as my best friend, or even as a lover, she come to me as the Slayer, the conqueror, and I gladly surrender to her.
And that is my terrible secret.
Not only men ask her to dance, women too. I remember the first time a woman asked her, she looked at me as if asking for permission and then said yes. She danced with ... Sonja ... I think that was her name for the rest of night. Then she had to put up with Xander jokes for a week.
"A penny for your thoughts?" Buffy asks, standing close to me and smiling. She then takes her seat, opens her bottled water and takes a sip. Since the Spike incident last week we've decided that it's safer to just drink bottled water when out.
"Will?" She looks at me worried.
"Nothing Buffy, I was really thinking about ... nothing." I finish lamely. What can I tell her? That you confessed your undying love me for just last week and then forgot about it? That I've dreamed of you every night since? I've dreamed of your taste, the way you smell, of those strong hands roaming my body, touching me in ways that no one ever has? I've dreamed of making love to you, the woman, and of being dominated by the beast?
You think that you and the Slayer are different. You don't know who you are or what you can become because you're afraid of it.
"Will you're scaring me." She says, her warm hand on my arm sending a hot fire through my body. I look at it, then up into confused hazel eyes that seem to come alive as I fall into them. I pull away from her gaze and it breaks the spell that held us. She yanks her hand back as if it had been burned and turns away to wave down a waiter. I can tell it's all a tactic to avoid looking at me while a blush rises on her cheeks.
And I let her get away with it; I can't push her ... she's too fragile.
While I believe what she said under the influence of the drug was the truth, I know that I can't rush her. Which is all the more frustrating; I want her, I want to make love to her, I want to share my life with her, I want to see her wake up in the morning and go to sleep with her at night until we're 100 years old. And I know that's she's not going to live much longer, so every moment she's not in my arms I feel cheated. One night, maybe tonight, she'll go out to fight the good fight and die.
Then I will never know what she looks like when she climaxes. Or how her face lights up at the sunrise, or see the light shinning in her eyes at Xander's jokes—I don't want her light to burn out—I want to be singed by her flame forever.
"Will?" She's turned back to me recovered. I know I've worried her and I can't stop the tear that runs down my face. "Ah, Willow, I'm sorry." She says, getting up to take me in her arms. Which opens the floodgates because now I can imagine what it would be like for her to take me into her arms for a different reason.
I remember everything about last Friday night; the way she looked at me, the intensity, her desire, her need to make me understand that she loved me. As soon as her lips touched mine I was lost in her. When her tongue asked for entrance it was like she was making love to me.
Gods I want to push her! I want her right now, on the floor of the Bronze would work for me. We're sitting on the high stools so I fit perfectly into the hug. "I'm sorry Tara left, I liked her." Buffy continues, oblivious to the real reason I'm crying. She's rubbing my back and it's leaving trails of fire everywhere she touches. I can't stop my reaction to it, so I have to push her away before she can 'feel' my arousal. Buffy can feel other's emotions; it's like her vampire sense; only with human emotion.
And speaking of her vampire sense; her question at my odd behavior dies on her lips as she gets very still. It's like she's listening to something only she can hear. I feel it, her whatever it is, leave her body and fly out—lightly touching all the patrons of the noisy crowded club. She turns in a circle, looking up to balcony and now that I'm looking for it, even I can spot the vampire. She's scrawny, with a prison camp appearance that gives the impression of starvation.
"Be right back Willow, hold that thought." Buffy tells me, grabs a stake out of her purse and starts to rush to the stairs. For some reason Devon and the band picks that exact moment to come back from break. If it wasn't that Devon was the leader I'd think it was planned. I got no bad vibes off him earlier so I just think it's bad timing. Still--it causes the dance floor to fill with people--blocking the stairs. Buffy turns to go the other way when she sees the vampire grab a man and sink her fangs in his neck.
I can only watch in fascination as the man's mouth opens in a silent scream, the music drowning out any sound. And now my spidery sense goes off because I from where I'm sitting I see another shadow lurking on the balcony. I start up from my seat just as Buffy gathers herself to jump straight up the 15 feet—it's the only way to save the man.
Right when she jumps I see the shadow move and it's like everything slows down or happens at the same time, or ... I don't know. Buffy lands on the balcony behind the feeding vamp and stakes her in one motion, then looks down to see if anyone saw her, I start to wave and point at the vampire rushing up behind her ... I think she spots me, she turns with the stake up ... and the vampire runs directly into it.
I can tell that the stake found it mark but the vampire's momentum carries it into Buffy, who then slams against the railing. The railing snaps and both the vampire and Buffy start to fall. I watch in horror as Buffy tries to twist in the air like a cat to land on her feet, only the vampire stays solid just long enough to throw her balance off, so she lands in a heap on the floor.
My mind goes completely blank for the few seconds that she lays still. I've seen Buffy jump out of 3 and 4 story buildings before so I don't think a 15 foot drop would hurt her under normal circumstances. Then the nagging little voice starts up, 'she couldn't protect herself when she fell, she could have hit her head ....'
She starts to move and that breaks the paralysis that had gripped me. She grabs her shoulder and I can tell from here it's dislocated. Which is ok, she's had them before, she'll have them again. I push my way through the crowd that's forming around her. She's still lying on the floor when I get there and kneel next to her. She's biting her lower lip to keep from screaming, the pain is so intense. I reach out to touch her arm to see if I can just pop the shoulder back in joint but she shies away from me.
"Don't Will," she forces out through gritted teeth. "It'll stop hurting so bad in a few." Someone taps me on my shoulder and I turn around the see the owner of the Bronze.
"I called an ambulance," he tells me over the rumbling of the crowd.
"No! Will, just no." I look into Buffy stricken face. I had thought she had gotten over her hospital fear.
"Buffy that shoulder needs to be tended to and it's ...." I'm interrupted when she reaches out her uninjured hand to grab my arm. I could see the spasms ripple down her back and across her shoulders. She has to bite down the cry of pain before it leaves her mouth.
"Willow a hospital is open, it's not safe and I can't defend myself now." She pronounces words clearly, slowly; the pain so intense she has to force the words out. I know she's right; I can't protect her in a hospital. At home, yes, where there are weapons, and some ingredients for my spells.
"Giles'--get me to Giles." She tells me and I wonder if she hadn't hit her head.
"Giles is out of town." I remind her, looking around at the faces in the crowd wondering how many were vampires or friends of the demon population. "We didn't bring a car and you can't walk."
"I can walk." She tells me, getting to her feet and then nearly goes back down as a spasm makes her entire side clinch. I take her good arm and place it over my shoulders, supporting her.
"You can't fight ..." I start thinking the hospital is the only way to go, regardless of the open house for demons.
Devon steps up to us then, "Willow I have my van. I wouldn't mind giving you a lift." He says, looking around, just like I was, wondering who the bad guys were.
"I still can't get her to the car." I tell him, "We would be a sitting ducks for even a minor demon trying ..." I'm interrupted by two of the Bronze's bouncers; they are carrying huge wooden clubs.
"She's saved our asses more times than we can count; we'll get you to the car." The burly blonde says and I notice three patrons in sunglasses go and sit back down at the bar. Sunglasses at night ... meant demon.
"Ok you win," I know when I'm beaten. Besides, Giles' house is safer and he does have everything there to take care of Buffy. We start toward the door and I'm shocked and pleased to see the band and several of the patrons form up around us, I think I recognize one or two from High School but I'm not sure. Either way it doesn't matter because we make it to the van with no problems.
Devon takes a long way to Giles' house, backtracking several times to make sure we aren't followed. Buffy just sits hunched in the back seat looking miserable the entire way. We all have keys to each others house's just in case, so getting into Giles' apartment isn't a problem. Devon helps Buffy get out of the van and then follows us down the stairs.
Buffy still can't stand to have either her arm or her shoulder touched; which worries me because her Slayer pain tolerance is legendary. A Slayer has to be able to deal with pain in the course of battle, and not to sound flippant about my best friend's injury, a dislocated shoulder for her isn't that serious. Once it's back into place it should be healed by morning.
I open the door and she moves away from Devon and is able to walk into the apartment without help. We know better than to issue invitations after dark. Devon doesn't seem to notice, he just turns to me with a smile and a wink; "I gotta get back to the Bronze."
Without another word he's back up the stairs and out of sight.
I walk into the apartment with a feeling trepidation. Something is going on in my Slayer's mind and I haven't a clue as to what it could be. I slowly place her jacket, purse, and my coat on the rack next to the door, watching her aimlessly walk around the room. I turn back and make a production about throwing the deadbolt, putting the chain on the door, and charging the wards to keep unwanted visitors out.
It's really an ingenious shield Giles has up; it makes the apartment appear invisible to demons. Instead of trying to use force, he uses guile and it seems to work better.
I know she's watching me, I know her eyes are on me so I compose myself before I turn around. I still can't understand why her Slayerness hasn't taken over yet. I put on my resolve face and turn around. She immediately glances away, then casually tries to sit in Giles' overstuffed chair, only to jump up out of when her shoulder touches the back.
"Ok Buffy," I tell her, getting the First Aid out of the closet. "Sit down on the couch, do you want pills or a shot."
"No." She answers my question and I'm nonplused. I place the First Aid kit on the desk and then look up at her. She's wandered to the window and is staring out of it.
"What do you mean no?" I ask, "No you don't want pills or no you don't want the shot?" I try to clear up what she meant because she was going to need one or the other. Even without the pain she seems to be in, I'm not strong enough to set her shoulder when all her muscles are pulled taut like they are now.
"I'll wait until sunrise and go to the hospital." She tells me from the window. I wish she would turn around so I could see her face. All the normal body language clues I use to figure out what's going on in her head have been rendered useless by her injury.
"Your arm will heal wrong and you didn't want to go ...." She stops my protest by turning and raising her hand. Her face is a mask, a mask that I can't read.
"I don't care." The mask from her face passes to her flat unemotional voice. This confuses me as much as frightens me. I can't make Buffy do something she doesn't want to do.
"You aren't making sense. Why don't you want me to put it back in place?" I try to reason with her. I go and stand by her at the window.
"I just don't." And she's beginning to scare me with the way she's acting. I can only think of one thing.
"Don't you trust me? I helped Giles do it last year ...." I start, maybe it's because she doesn't think I know how to do it. And not what I'm beginning to suspect.
"No, I trust you." She tells me and for the first time I see her lose some of that ironclad control. She looks back to the window and another spasm runs down her side and I see her knees nearly buckle. "I trust you with you my life." She whispers and I can barely hear her.
"Buffy" I reach out to touch her and she shies away from me. She walks carefully to the stairs and sits down on them slowly. I swallow the hurt that I feel, this is about her, something is wrong. "Ok then, do you want pills or a shot?" I persist, walking around the couch to the desk instead of in front of her. She looks like she's about ready to bolt.
"Neither, just do it." She grimaces.
"Buffy you can't even sit in a chair it hurts so bad ...." I plead with her as she moves and tenses on the balls of her feet, half-sitting half-standing.
"I don't care." She says flatly and the blank expression is back.
"Well I do damn it." I'm almost at the end of my patience. But when she stands up, looking for the entire world like she's going to bolt out the door, I calm down. She's almost totally helpless and if she leaves .... "Buffy, Giles has very concise instructions on what drugs to use and how to use them. You know he would be very angry with me...."
"Do you want to reduce it or should I wait?" She asks with the edge of pain tainting her voice now. I still don't understand why she hurts so much.
"No, no!" I quickly reassure her. "I want too, Buffy I'm not strong enough. You know that from last summer." I remind her of last summer when she was thrown against a crypt and showed up on Tara's and my doorstep at three in the morning. "Look, you'll only be out for an hour tops, and I have all the weapons and spell ingredients I need to keep you safe."
She walks slowly back to the window. For a moment I think she's debating about jumping through it to escape me. I hear her mumble something I can't make out.
"What?" She's shrinking in front me.
"I can't keep you safe." She turns with such raw emotion in her eyes that I have to take a step back. I look away trying to form an answer. And then I start getting mad at her for making such a big deal about always being in control, always having to protect me from the big bad world.
"Buffy," I start harshly. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a big girl now. I'm becoming a very powerful Witch; I think I can protect myself in a fortified house for a few hours." I tell her and I feel my eyes blazing and the heat of my anger turning my face red. She doesn't react; the expression doesn't change so I continue. "You can't keep me safe right now in case you haven't noticed." That scored a reaction even if it was only a flinch. "So, quit being such a baby and for once just let me take care of you."
"No, you can't." She says heading for the door. And I wonder if I've misread the entire situation. I move to intercept her.
"I did fine last Friday night, remember?" I remind her, and when she stops by the couch I try to back off and let her have a little space. Her eyes are drilling a hole into the floor.
"That didn't matter. You were safe because she was out." Buffy tells me, she spins way to go stand in front on the window again. I sure hope Giles has it locked because I know she's about two seconds from going through it. Then her words catch up to me and now I'm really confused.
"Huh? Buffy you aren't making a lot of sense." I start. "It's like you're talking English and I'm talking English but I have no idea what you are saying." I tell her and it's true. I know I've misread something tonight, I can't figure out what.
Her arm takes that moment to clinch and she can't hold back the small cry of pain.
"Your arm is just getting worse, so sit down on the couch." I order and I'm surprised to see her comply.
"No... Ok... but use the good stuff." She bargains without looking at me.
"Are you in that much pain?" Now she's being contradictory. So I remind her, "That's gonna knock you out for the night?"
"I know, it'll keep you safe." She states flatly and I know I'm not going to get anything else out of her. I realize the couch isn't the best place to set up the weights I'm going to need so I walk up to her.
"Ok, let me help you up the stairs to Giles' bed ...." I tell her reaching down intent to help her stand, only she jumps up and way from my touch. She cries out at the movement.
"Don't touch me." Buffy says and it hurts. She's clinched tightly, every muscle locked, and her face is a pale mask of agony. "I can barely control her as it is right now, your touch ...."
"What are you talking about?" I ask.
"Just do it now." Buffy pleads sitting back on the couch. "Quickly. I can't protect you much longer."
I can tell that she's really very frightened, so I go to the First Aid kit. Giles keeps perfect records of what drugs he's used and how he thinks Buffy tolerates them. 'The Good Stuff' is actually a veterinary mixture of Ketamine and Valium. I double check the dosages, the expiration dates, and the seals on the vials. I seriously doubt that I could OD Buffy, still it's best to be careful.
Once I have everything I go back to her. I have to inject the drugs in her vein so she just holds her good hand out to me. It's as far away from her body as she can get it.
I wrap the rubber tourniquet around her arm and she makes a fist. The vien on the back of her hand pops up. I'm very careful to get it the first try.
"Buffy," I pause and wait until she looks at me. "We are going to talk about this in the morning."
She nods; "I promise."
I inject the drug. I pull the needle out, cap it, and then help her settle back against the pillows of the couch. She reaches up to cup my face with her good hand. As the drug works I watch she relaxes further sinking into the couch.
"I love you Will," she says and then she's out.
***************************************************************
I wake the next morning to the sun shining into the window. I must have dozed off after I checked her arm at four. I look at the couch and I have to shake my head to clear the fogginess because I think it's empty. A feeling of dread begins to form in my stomach as I realize that my eyes are right; she's not here.
I want to yell at her that she promised!
I see a piece of paper on the First Aid kit and the feeling of dread turns into a full scale attack. With shaking hands I pick it up:
Will,
Thanks for taking care of me last night. Sorry I gave you such a hard time, I'd promised Mom I'd be home early and didn't want to worry her. I was afraid that she would take things out on you and I wanted to protect you from her. She can really be a bear sometimes.
You look so peaceful sleeping I don't want to wake you. I'll call you in a few days, or with Mom and doctors and everything, it might be a couple of weeks.
Thanks for your help.
Buffy
I'm smart enough to know the brush off when I read it. Jean McGee did it to me in First Grade. I know when a friend has decided to end a friendship and leave me. I methodically gather up everything I used last night and put it away. Then I make a notation about the drugs I used and the reaction Buffy had to them in Giles' notebook.
In a daze of hurt I lock up and leave Giles' apartment to go back to my empty dorm room. I know that Buffy's and my friendship is over, she crossed the line in the sand, she purposely lied to me. I think that fact is the most painful for me to accept ... she lied.
Buffy broke my trust in her as a friend. As I drag up to my dorm I wonder what I should do? Like Jean McGee should I just let her go or should I fight?
One thing is for sure, something is wrong with the Slayer because Buffy never lies to me or at least never lies to me directly.