Almost A Whisper
by HDGenscher
[reviews]
TITLE: Almost A Whisper
AUTHOR: HD_Genscher
RATING: PG
PAIRING: B/W
SPOILERS: 3rd season
DISCLAIMER: All characters and places belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, et al.
ARCHIVE: Sure. Just let me know.
FEEDBACK: Please.
DEDICATED TO: Kris. Thanks a lot!
SUMMARY: It's Buffy's 18th birthday and someone makes sure she'll never forget it.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the prequel to my story "Forever" and the sequel to "Letter To Your Heart". It takes place in the 3rd season, instead of "Helpless". There'll be no Cruciamentum in this Buffyverse.
OUTSIDE
During the day, Sunnydale was a town not unlike many others at the west coast. It had some more cemeteries than other towns, and its amount of unsolved cases of death was ten times higher than the state average.
But beyond that, life was quite normal. The people had learned to forget the many strange things they had heard or seen. They had learned to suppress the memories of the many friends, relatives and neighbors that had disappeared or died.
They had learned to seize the moment. And so people went out, people fell in love with each other, people married and had children. As long as the sun was up, as long as you didn't do something stupid when it wasn't, life was beautiful, even on the Hellmouth.
But once night fell, all that changed. The outskirt streets where happy children had been playing were deserted. Many shopkeepers closed their shops on Main Street after seven -- there would be no customers anyway.
Some people had learned that going out in groups was better than walking alone. And when going to the movies, you just had to avoid certain "dangerous" areas and short cuts. Even the most oblivious of Sunnydale's inhabitants knew that it was good to go home as fast as possible when the sun had set.
Finally, when the last belated homecomer was in the safe harbor of his or her house, silence fell over Sunnydale. And then something else came creeping out of dark corners, derelict buildings and the sewers.
Now it was their turn, and the darkness belonged to them as they belonged to the darkness.
And with them came the fear.
**
The petite blonde girl patrolling through one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries wasn't showing any signs of fear. She was walking determinedly between tombstones and mausoleums.
That didn't mean that she wasn't afraid from time to time. She had seen too many things, knew about the countless horrors the Hellmouth was able to produce too well not to be.
She had learned that a certain degree of fear was quite life-prolonging, and to use it as an instrument. Fear kept her from taking things too easy, from laxity in the job. And that job was to be out when everyone else was sleeping, to dam up the forces of darkness, though she would never stop the flow of evil that was constantly coming from the Hellmouth.
A lack of fear had cost the lives of some of her predecessors who had fought the same battle.
At the same time, she had to prevent the fear from overcoming her, from paralyzing her. It was an eternal struggle within her, like the battle of good versus evil that was fought out night by night around her.
"When you're outside tonight, you've got to know I'll be there for you," she hummed to herself.
Suddenly, she stopped, intensely listening to one side. A small smile appeared around her mouth. Then, with a giant leap, she stood behind the creature of the night that had been lurking behind some shrubs.
"Hi, looking for something particular?" the blonde asked with an innocent voice that resounded over the silent graveyard.
Although the vampire was surprised, his fright didn't remain long. He turned around and attempted to hit her with his forearm. She had expected that and easily ducked away, then responded with a kick to the stomach of her adversary. The vampire stumbled backwards, fighting for balance while holding his belly where she had hit him.
He growled, but the pain seemed to goad him on. They exchanged some hard blows, each blocked by the other, until the Slayer decided it was time to finish.
With a precise punch to the chin, she sent the vamp down to the ground. Her wooden stake whirled and hit its target with deadly accuracy. A cloud of dust raised, and the fight was over as fast as it had begun. Silence fell again.
Putting the stake back into her pocket, the girl suddenly felt the untypical coldness that was coming from the sea. She pulled her jacket more tightly around her, then decided to call it a night and go home.
Tomorrow, the sun would come up again. It would set an end to the darkness and what was lurking in its cover, at least for twelve hours.
When the night fell again, duty would call. But in the meantime, she would enjoy the day.
Because tomorrow was a special day. Her father would come from L.A. and they would go to the ice show.
On the calendar hanging from a wall in the kitchen of her home, the reason was written in her mom's handwriting next to tomorrow's date: Buffy's Birthday.
**
Joyce Summers was in said kitchen, preparing dinner. Her daughter would be home from her nightly patrol soon and they would be eating together.
Although she knew for a couple of months now what Buffy was doing out there in the night and how important it was, she still hadn't become accustomed to it completely. It just felt... wrong... that her little girl was the 'only girl in all the world to fight the forces of darkness.' At least that was more or less how her daughter's watcher had explained her calling.
She heard something from the entrance.
"Buffy?" she asked.
"Present," Buffy answered, entering the kitchen. Her look fell on the large bunch of flowers and she smiled. "Ooo, present!" she exclaimed.
"Uh, they're not. They're from your father."
Buffy inspected the floral arrangement more closely. It was nice, but why would he send her this if they were going to the ice show together tomorrow?
Then she discovered the attached tickets and her smile faded. She picked the card and the tickets from the arrangement and looked at them.
"His, uh, quarterly projections are unraveling and he can't afford to take off right now," Joyce explained. "He promises to make it up to you. It's all right there in the letter," she continued, pointing to the card.
Buffy sadly folded up the tickets and the card without even opening it.
"I-if you want, I could ask somebody to cover for me at the gallery," Joyce offered, seeing the disappointed expression on her daughter's face.
"No. No, that's not necessary," Buffy rejected and walked towards the stairs.
"Don't you want some dinner, honey?" Joyce asked.
"Sorry, mom. I'm not hungry and just want to be alone, okay?"
Buffy stormed upstairs and her mother heard the door slam shut.
"Okay..." Joyce sighed, then sat down and started to eat.
SOLILOQUY
Buffy let herself fall onto her bed. She stared at the ceiling disappointedly.
It just wasn't fair. Going to the ice show was one of the rare opportunities to do something with her father. Since her parents were divorced, she usually saw him only once or twice a year, so she was really looking forward to those father-daughter activities.
And now he didn't have time for her. He didn't have time for his daughter's birthday! How dare he...
So in his eyes, she wasn't Daddy's little girl anymore, but a young woman who'd be able to cope with the fact that her father didn't have time for her birthday, but had to care for his business.
'Or maybe he's just making out with his secretary,' Buffy thought bitterly.
She felt the lump in her throat.
She decided that she was in need of some comfort and intuitively picked the stuffed pig from the shelf next to her bed. His name was Mr. Gordo and he had been hers for ages, so it probably had been her first stuffed animal. She gave him a tight hug, then placed him on her belly and slowly stroked his short pink fur, as if he was the one in need of comfort.
Her father wouldn't come. And she didn't want her mother to go with her, as a substitute for her ex-husband's duty. Maybe she could ask Willow...
Buffy's thoughts wandered to her red-haired friend.
She had been so happy that their friendship had still been intact after her stupid flight to L.A.
After all they had been through together, after all they had done for each other, putting their lives in danger for each other, she somehow hadn't expected anything else, but you never knew.
There was one thing Buffy knew for sure: she had put that friendship to a hard test when she had left town after killing Angel. She knew now that it had been a mistake to give in to her selfish need to escape from the reality that was her life. Finally, she had realized that there was no escape, that her place was here as was her duty. And the one that had her heart. Her soulmate. The one her world revolved around.
Willow.
It had been during her self chosen exile in L.A. that she had realized her true feelings for the hacker. With the help of some letters she had written to her best friend that she'd never actually sent, she had learned to express her long buried feelings for Willow for the first time.
It had helped her to see the reason why she had to continue fighting the good fight.
She had come back to Sunnydale. Back to her friends, her duties as the Slayer. And back to Willow.
It had been tougher than she had thought.
During what she called 'Dead Man's Party' -- thanks to a possessed artifact from the gallery that her mother had placed in their house -- she even had been tempted to give up and run away again. She couldn't bear the pain in the eyes of her friends who didn't understand, who couldn't understand, because she didn't talk to them, and ran away instead.
But the worst of all had been the pain in Willow's eyes. And when she had caught Buffy blindly stuffing clothes into a bag to escape from her friends' pain, from her pain, they even had had a fight, their first real fight.
Willow had accused her of running away from her problems instead of facing them, and of leaving her friends behind during that process, worrying day and night about her fate instead of letting them -- and especially Willow, her best friend -- help by at least talking to her.
Then, the living dead had attacked her house and jointly, they had defeated them. That had brought the fire back and also their old team spirit.
Xander, Giles, and even her mother had tacitly accepted afterwards that there were reasons she couldn't talk about for her running away. She was back, after all, and she accepted that she had been wrong. That was it.
The rebonding of the Slayer and the Hacker had needed some more time, but it finally occurred at one of their favorite places, Sunnydale's Italian café, known as the Espresso Pump. They had talked like two friends, no, like best friends again.
And yet, she hadn't had the guts to tell Willow everything, about how she felt... about how she felt about her...
...although there was nothing in the way, now that Angel was dead.
Giles had proposed a way to bring him back in the weeks after she had resumed her duties -- a mere theoretical possibility, though, that just didn't work out. She still suspected her watcher had just brought it up because he believed the thought of a chance to rescue the vampire would comfort her, would ease the pain he thought she was still feeling about his death.
But she was over Angel by then. She still remembered what they had, and that it had been something unique, something special. But she also couldn't forget what Angel was, what he could have become any time again if she hadn't sent him to hell.
And she had found out that she was in love with her best friend...
...who wasn't that close to Oz anymore. Somehow, during the last months, or more precisely since she had returned, their closeness had diminished. Maybe Oz's wolfy nature was the cause, or maybe Willow didn't love Oz because she loved...
Buffy discarded that thought right away. This was her wishful thinking and not the facts.
There was nothing in the way, except her fears of losing Willow.
That was why she couldn't ask the redhead. It was too much like a date in her eyes. And that would endanger their friendship, because Buffy was quite sure that her friend had nothing more than just... well, friendly feelings for her.
"You don't know what's going on, do you?" she asked Mr. Gordo. "It's so simple to tell... you at least... and yet everything's so complicated..."
Her eyes filled with tears. And the reason for that was simple.
Buffy was afraid.
Afraid of being in love with her best friend. Afraid of losing her. Afraid of the future.
'Oh, Willow!' she sighed, while the first tear rolled down her cheek.
She let it all out. There was no sense in holding back the tears, to be slowly eaten from inside by her fears. She sobbed and weeped, all the while hugging her stuffed companion, slowly wetting a part of his fur with her salty tears.
If the vampires could see her now, the mighty Vampire Slayer, what would they see? They would see that she was just a girl, after all. Beyond her calling, her mission and her supernatural powers, she was still human, with her own problems and desires that had nothing to do with the Hellmouth or anything like that.
Finally, the tears subsided. She lay there on her side, all curled up, her arm still around the stuffed pig. Then she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
BIRTHDAY
Buffy woke up, sleepy first, then suddenly very awake. It was her birthday!
She stretched, yawned, and finally got up to take a look out the window. She couldn't believe her eyes: the world outside was white. Buffy remembered the unusually cold breeze she had felt last night, but this was unbelievable. A thick layer of snow, at least four inches thick, was covering the streets and paths, bushes and trees. All the houses in the neighborhood were wearing white hats now, reflecting the bright winter sun.
She quickly dressed, then stormed downstairs. "Mom? Do you see *that*?" she shouted excitedly.
Joyce was sitting at the table in the dining room, reading the paper, a mug of coffee in front of her. "Good morning, honey."
Buffy gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek. "Morning, Mom!" she replied.
"And yes, I've seen it. I couldn't believe my eyes, either," Joyce continued.
Buffy went over to the kitchen and took a bowl and the cereal pack out of a cabinet.
"Are there any historic references for something like this?" she asked.
"I don't think so. In the news, they said it's the coldest day in over a century. But it didn't snow back then. Traffic has come to a standstill everywhere and authorities are trying to clear the streets as fast as possible, but I think they said they'll need at least a day, so all public institutions will remain closed today."
"Yay! No school on my birthday. Now that's good news," Buffy said while pouring some milk into her bowl of cereal.
"By the way... Happy Birthday, Buffy," Joyce said as Buffy came back into the dining room with her breakfast.
Her mother was holding something in her hand now. It was something large, wrapped in white paper.
Buffy carefully put her bowl down onto the table, then took the present out of Joyce's hands and unwrapped it with a quick, impatient motion.
It was a wooden longbow, about 70 inches long.
"Oh, Mom! It's... wonderful!"
Buffy had worked with crossbows a lot, but this was something completely different. She followed the bow's curvature with her hand. It was made of one single piece of wood -- yew, she assumed. The bow was perfect, lying so well in her hand as if it had been made for her.
"Mr. Giles was so kind as to advise me on what to buy," Joyce told her.
Buffy picked up one of the wooden arrows and drew the bow, testing its tension. Satisfied with the result, she put it back down, much to Joyce's relief.
"But wasn't it very expensive?" Buffy asked with a touch of guilty conscience.
"Buffy, you'll have your 18th birthday only once. And don't worry, the gallery's been running well lately. I think I can afford to buy you a birthday present."
"Thank you, Mom." Buffy gave her mother another hug.
"What do you think about going for a walk?" Joyce proposed, pointing out the window.
"That would be nice." Buffy smiled at her mother thankfully. She yearned to try out her longbow, but that would have to wait.
After Buffy had changed into a thick red sweater she'd found somewhere in the depth of her wardrobe, she completed her outfit with a white scarf.
Joyce appeared at the door of her room. She had adjusted her attire as well, reflecting the fact that -- despite the sun shining brightly -- it was quite cold outside, especially considering California's usual temperatures.
"Do you think you can show yourself with your Mom?" she asked.
Buffy grinned. "Oh yeah."
They went downstairs and left the house.
"Any particular destination?" Buffy asked.
"No."
"Then let's go this way." Buffy took charge and chose a direction that would not lead them to any of the graveyards that could possibly be the source of trouble, even if it was daytime.
They slowly walked along, all the while chatting, admiring the wondrous transformation of their home town that had turned it into a completely different place overnight.
At the same time, they slowly adjusted to the strange feeling under their shoes. Now Buffy was glad that her mother had insisted on buying a pair of robust, closed shoes last fall. Those weren't fashionable, as she had repeatedly remarked back then, but as it turned out now, they were comfortable and useful when the weather didn't permit normal footwear.
They freely talked about everything that came to their minds, for the first time in months, starting with... shoes. Joyce felt she had to show her daughter that she was always there for her, after Buffy had been so disappointed with her father's cancellation.
Running the gallery soon had turned out to be a full-time job. When she wasn't in the gallery, she was either doing all antique shops in California (or almost all of them) to find new objects or doing the paperwork. Maybe that had led to her ignoring the many, many signs that her daughter's life was anything but an ordinary one. Finally, that had caused Buffy's running away six months ago, Joyce believed.
But Buffy assured her that she didn't feel neglected, that she was feeling well at home and that she wouldn't run away again. When it came to boys, Buffy even freely admitted that she was over Angel now.
They were so absorbed in their conversation that they didn't notice the small paper pinned to a tree, and passed by it.
Whenever Joyce came up with something concerning her friends -- or Willow in particular, however, Buffy quickly switched to another topic, hoping that her mother didn't notice that she was avoiding that topic.
And Buffy was glad that Joyce didn't talk about her calling. She vividly remembered what had happened the last time her mother had shown interest in slaying, although she and the others had been under demonic influence.
Suddenly Buffy faltered mid-sentence. She had discovered something at a tree they were approaching. Joyce followed her eyes.
There was a note pinned to it, and someone had written a large 'B' with a red felt tip on it. 'Faith?' Buffy wondered. She was the only one calling her 'B', after all. She pulled it off and unfolded it.
"Buffy,
go to where the books live," she read out loud.
"Strange," she then muttered to herself.
"Everything's okay?" Joyce asked.
"Yeah... but how could anyone expect us to walk by here?" Buffy asked, slightly worried.
Joyce shrugged. "Maybe it's not for you?"
"How many Buffy's do you know?" her daughter countered.
"True," Joyce admitted.
"I think I should check out the school library," Buffy continued.
The note told her to go to the library, she thought, and there could be a demonic force behind all this. If so, Giles would probably know. "Maybe Giles knows what this is all about," she concluded.
"Honey, don't you think he'll be at home rather than in the library?" Joyce was skeptical.
"You know Giles, he's *living* in that library. Even if there's no school today," Buffy pointed out. "So I think I'd better hurry. If... you don't mind?" she added on second thought.
Joyce knew that, above all things, her daughter was determined to fulfill her duties. And if that meant to check out places due to vague hints, well, so be it.
"It's okay," she assured.
"Thanks, Mom!" Buffy replied, and took off immediately.
"But try to be back for dinner," Joyce called after her daughter teasingly.
"I'll try," was the answer.
THE CHASE
'This would be even nicer if Willow would be with me,' Buffy mused as she trudged through the snow; and thinking of her red-headed friend made her scowl. But this was her birthday and she decided that there would be no place for gloomy thoughts today.
She walked around another corner, turning into Torrance Street. She had passed by two other paper notes pinned to trees on her way so far. Someone was really trying to make sure that she followed his or her plan, whatever that was. She had picked each note up and both were identical in telling her to go to "where the books lived." Buffy wondered at the strange phrasing.
Finally, she approached her high school.
In contrast to normal weekdays, Sunnydale High's surroundings were deserted. Usually hundreds of pupils were walking around at this time of the day; there were just some large snow piles now. Obviously, the janitor had tried to master the snow masses that had fallen down from the sky last night.
Buffy slowly climbed the large steps leading up to the entrance.
As she had suspected, the front doors were closed, but not locked. She hesitated for a moment, wondering what Principal Snyder would come up with if she was caught in school on a day off.
Buffy discarded her worried thoughts and entered the building. The hallways were empty and the girl walked towards her destination determinedly.
She entered the library, like she'd done countless times before. She really was expecting Giles to be here, like he always was, but the library was only dimly lit and empty. Maybe the librarian was enjoying a day off as well, sitting at home with a good book and a mug of tea.
She smiled at the thought and suspiciously scanned the large room for something unusual. But she couldn't pick out anything. The many rows of bookshelves -- bowed down with the weight of hundreds, if not thousands of schoolbooks, but also containing Giles' small but exquisite collection of books on the dark and mysterious -- were just as they always were. No stranger had tampered with Giles' treasures.
Suddenly, her supernatural hearing picked up a rustling sound from somewhere, breaking the eerie silence.
"Hello?" she asked into the semidarkness. "Is anybody here?"
An even more oppressive silence was the answer.
She listened into the room closely, then shrugged. 'Maybe my senses are playing tricks on me,' she thought. She was quite sure that there wasn't a dangerous creature lurking somewhere. First of all, it was broad daylight outside. And her sixth sense, the Slayer sense, would be tickling if an enemy was close and that one never failed her.
Her eye fell on a large volume that was lying on the counter. Curiously, she stepped closer. It was an ancient book, one that Giles certainly wouldn't have left there. She picked up the leather-bound volume and opened it. If she was lucky she wouldn't have to search all the pages, or, even worse, all the books.
After leafing aimlessly through the book, she put it down onto the counter frustratedly. It was hopeless. She almost missed the small leaflet that had fallen out of the book. It was the borrowing slip, and it was lying on the floor flipped. Even if no ordinary student would hardly ever lend any of these old books, Giles had equipped each with such a slip; he had to if he wanted to pass as a serious librarian, Buffy assumed.
She could see that someone had written something on the borrowing slip's back. She picked it up and read:
"You can drink me pure.
You can drink me with milk and sugar.
You can drink me with whipped cream.
You can drink me strong and dark.
Where do you find me?"
The answer was quite clear: the first four lines were about her favorite beverage, coffee. And there was just one place in Sunnydale where you could get that many sorts of coffee: the Espresso Pump, right on the corner between State and Main.
Buffy had a strange feeling of excitement in her stomach. 'This is a kind of paper chase,' she thought, 'leading me from one place to the next.' Now that was an unconventional idea for an entertaining morning!
She was curious about why these messages were everywhere and who was behind them, so she hurriedly left the library, the swinging doors closing behind her.
When she was gone, a rustling sound could be heard again and a being came out of its hiding place behind the last bookshelf. 'Two to go,' the being thought and chuckled.
**
Buffy entered Sunnydale's most popular café. As she had expected, almost all tables were empty.
But the café was open, despite the circumstances. A lot of people would be in need of a hot cup of coffee after a walk in the snow, she guessed.
"Hi, Mario!" she greeted the owner.
"Buongiorno, bella signorina," the young Italian greeted. He always called her that whenever she was here and he was serving her. She knew that it meant something like 'pretty girl,' and thanked him with a smile.
Flirting definitely was like second nature to those guys... But he was friendly and not pushing, so it was okay.
"What can I do for you, Buffy?" Mario asked.
"I'd like a cappuccino, extra milk, low-fat," she ordered, while sitting down at a table.
The short Italian had been running the Espresso Pump since he'd inherited it from his father, as people had told Buffy when she had freshly moved to Sunnydale. It was an institution, just like the bowling alley and the cinema and some other place to hang out at. And just like everyone else, Buffy had fallen in love with the pleasant atmosphere.
At this time of the day, Mario was serving his customers alone. Later, in the afternoon, two waitresses would be helping him -- students from UC Sunnydale, Buffy assumed.
"Un cappuccino," he repeated. "Prego, signorina."
She watched as he prepared the desired beverage with a precision and efficiency that showed years of experience. And there wasn't any other place in the vicinity she knew of that offered such good cappuccino.
"Your drink, signorina," he said while placing the cup in front of her. She had expected him to go back to his bar, but he remained at her table.
"And here's something really unusual," he continued. "Someone left a message for you." He produced a folded sheet of paper from his apron and gave it to her.
"Do you know who gave it to you?" she asked.
"That's the strange thing, you know," he replied. "It was just lying here on the counter, from one moment to the other. I didn't see anyone put it there, but since your name's on it..."
Buffy looked down and saw that someone had carefully written her name on the folded note, but she didn't recognize the handwriting.
"Thank you," she said and unfolded it. This one was short:
"Seek out a place of study,
but not of choice.
Then go to a place of rest,
the place where we first met."
She sipped at her beverage while she considered the possible solutions to this riddle.
The campus of UC Sunnydale was a place of study, but also one of choice. The only other place she could think of was the one she just had come from, Sunnydale High. They had no choice but to go there, right? If she was guessing correctly, this was the second hint at her High School and that confirmed her assumption that someone going there with her was behind this.
Could it be a boy? Maybe Scott, having changed his mind? Naw... No man could ever be that creative. And she didn't have a crush on him anymore. If she considered it carefully, she never actually had.
But could last night's pleas have been heard? Could her favorite redhead be the one behind all this? It would fit her mastermind, but it would also mean that she felt the same way about Buffy.
She read the last sentence again.
"...where we first met."
If it was Willow, that would be the schoolyard of Sunnydale High. And that was a place of rest...
Her mind started to drift. She remembered her first day like it were yesterday. Not because of the new school. Surely not because of Cordelia and her cordettes. Not even because of Xander. No, she remembered that day because she had met *her* for the first time that day.
Willow.
"Uh, hi! Willow, right?" she had said. Willow had been sitting on a bench next to the fountain in the schoolyard that everyone just called fountain quad, for obvious reasons.
Willow had looked up at her, plain amazement in her eyes. "Why? I-I mean, hi! Uh, did you want me to move?" Willow really seemed to be assuming Buffy had made friends with Cordelia and her bunch of admirers, who considered her unworthy of even sitting on the same bench with her...
She could not have been more wrong. Buffy had often thought about when and where it all started, and this was the only possibility. She'd had the hots for the hot redhead right from the beginning.
"Why don't we start with 'Hi, I'm Buffy,' and, uh, then let's segue directly into me asking you for a favor," she had answered reassuringly. To prove her sincere intentions, she had sat down next to Willow. They talked, and the rest was history.
Buffy smiled at the memory. She gulped down the rest of the now tepid liquid in front of her, stuffed the note into a pocket of her pants, then dropped some coins on her table to pay for her cappuccino and left the Espresso Pump. She had to go back to Sunnydale High.
**
The note was on the bench, exactly as she had expected. This was where they first met.
Buffy picked it up and hastily read it:
"The last hint this will be:
I'm the source of all life.
I'm not a friend to the fire.
I'm coming to you from the air.
I'm coming to you through the earth.
Through metallic darkness I'm coming.
Now, find the treasure of your heart,
Just go and follow my path."
Buffy sat down on the bench. She had to think.
The source of all life? The sun, maybe? But why would the sun be called 'not a friend to the fire?' Its rays were coming through the air, but not through the earth.
She looked at the fountain. 'That's it!' she thought. Water, necessary for all life, not a friend to the fire, coming from the air when it rained.
But how would that hint to the last location of the chase? To the one where she would 'find the treasure of her heart?'
"Coming through the earth, through metallic darkness," she muttered.
The water in the fountain and the one coming out of her faucet was coming through pipes. That qualified as 'metallic darkness', she decided. That was the solution to the first part of the riddle, but what about the last sentence? It was the only one left to hint at the next station.
"Follow my path? Do I have to search through the sewers, or what?"
But she couldn't be sure that Willow meant a pipe connected with the fountain. After all she knew, it could be any pipe.
Suddenly she had an idea. Where did all those pipes originate from?
The answer was simple. Sunnydale's water supply was provided by a reservoir just outside of town. The water filtering plant was right next to it, Buffy knew that for sure because they had visited it during her first year in Sunnydale High during a chemistry field trip. And it couldn't be the sewers. It clearly said 'coming to you' in the riddle, and that implied fresh water.
Buffy stood up as if stung by an adder. "That's it!" she exclaimed. She was sure. There she would find... whoever... no! It would be Willow.
With a quick glance at the bench that was connected with so many memories, she jogged off.
BUFFY ON ICE
About half an hour later, Buffy approached the water reservoir.
From here, Sunnydale was supplied with water. She stopped in her run, amazed at the ice covering the lake. It seemed to be completely frozen, at least to a certain depth.
A quick examination of the building that housed the filtering plant revealed nothing unusual. All doors were locked, and no one was to be seen. Obviously, it was operated automatically.
Buffy went back to the lake, shielded her eyes against the noon sun and searched the shore. The lake was surrounded with bushes and trees, all covered with snowy caps, looking beautiful and a little bit strange. Snow was something new in Sunnydale, after all.
Suddenly something caught her eye: wasn't that something metallic reflecting the sun near that large tree over there?
Buffy wasn't sure, but there was just one way to find out. She jogged off to the left side of the lake. After a short while, she approached the object that she had spotted from the distance.
She couldn't believe her eyes: There was a pair of ice skates dangling from a shoulder-high branch of the tree! They were fastened by their bootlaces, slowly swinging in the light breeze. One of the runners must have reflected the sunlight, she concluded.
'They almost look like mine,' Buffy thought as she stepped towards the tree and unfastened the bootlaces, dropping the skates to the ground.
She picked up one skate, weighing it in her hand. She then inspected the runner, found it satisfactory, and finally looked inside the white leather leg to check the shoe size.
And stared blankly.
She gazed at the frozen lake.
Then she looked at the leg again.
Next to the stamping indicating the size (6 and a half, just one bigger than her usual size to fit perfectly), someone had written 'Buffy Summers'. Only it wasn't someone else's handwriting. It was hers.
These weren't ice skates that looked quite similar to hers, these *were* hers.
She looked around suspiciously, but everything was quiet. How could someone have managed to get her skates out of her closet? At least that's where she had last seen them. She'd bought them when she had been in the city before Christmas, hoping for an opportunity to use them. And Buffy was quite sure that Willow -- whom she suspected was responsible for this wonderful morning -- couldn't have taken them out of her room, at least not without the help of her mother. And could Joyce really have helped her?
She wouldn't solve this mystery by standing around, so she sat down, removed her shoes and put on the skates.
She then stepped towards the shore and inspected the ice.
It was impossible such a thick layer of ice had formed over night... It was never ever cold enough to even snow in California, right? Yet, when she had opened her eyes this morning, Sunnydale had been covered with a white layer. 'It's magic,' she thought.
She carefully stepped on the slippery, frozen liquid and tested it. It must have been at least ten inches thick -- more than enough to carry her weight.
She made a few skating steps and was surprised how easy it was.
She hadn't done this for a while, but once she got accustomed to the well-known feeling of being on the ice again, it wasn't a problem.
She glided elegantly over the ice, faster and faster, then went into a pirouette. She stretched out her arms widely, then slowly raised them until they met over her head, thus accelerating her spin. As her spin began to slow down due to friction, she smoothly switched into forward gliding mode again.
They said ice skating was like swimming: once you had learned it, you knew how to do it for a lifetime.
She never had mastered the double Lutz, though. That was the most difficult jump she'd tried to learn when she had been going to the skating rink regularly with her Dad. That was back when she was nine or ten and her parents had still been married. He had had a lot more spare time then and they had gone to a rink in L.A. almost every weekend.
He had always told her how proud he was when she'd mastered a new figure and that she obviously was a natural as far as figure skating was concerned.
But then, his job had started to keep him busy more and more, and they couldn't go any more. Finally, they'd settled with a visit to the ice show once a year as her birthday present.
The wind carried something to her ears.
"...fffy!"
She looked up and saw someone at the other end of the frozen lake, near where she had first stood, scanning the lake. She realized how far she had skated.
The other person was waving now.
"Willow?" she asked, more to herself, and waved back.
Immediately, she accelerated toward the distant figure. Her heart leapt when her eyes confirmed what she had hoped so deeply. It was Willow, alright.
She accelerated even more. Then she took off, jumped a perfect double Lutz and landed, carefully balancing out the swing and stopping right in front of the other girl.
Willow was looking absolutely adorable, as her flaming hair peeped out from under a wooly bobble cap. (A small part of her wondered where she managed to get hold of that textile, since it was never cold in sunny Sunnydale; but her major thought was just how cute she looked.)
The cold had given her rosy cheeks.
"Oh, Buffy, that was beautiful!" the redhead beamed. Buffy returned the smile. "I had no idea you're so good at this."
"Hi, Will," Buffy replied, quickly pulling the witch into a hug.
"Why -- I mean, hi."
"I went ice skating with my Dad in the past," Buffy explained. "And the hug is for... just being here. I was looking for you, you know," she told her.
"Oh... I was looking for you, too," Willow said. "And I'm so glad I found you. I saw you... someone... at the distance and I so hoped... that it would be you...so I took heart and started to skate towards you and... now I'm here and I'm so not sure whether I'll be able to get back to the shore..." she finished, babbling.
"Did anyone tell you that you're cute when you do that?" Buffy asked.
"Do what?" Willow countered, blushing, but knowing the answer.
"That babbling thing..."
"Umm, actually, no."
There was a small beat while neither girl knew what to say.
"I almost forgot... Happy Birthday, Buffy." Willow finally went on, breaking the uneasy silence.
"Thanks, Will." Buffy rewarded her with another smile.
"And... um... Could you do that again?" Willow asked.
"The double Lutz? I don't know, I never really succeeded, until today. I mean, the figure is easy... if you're familiar with ice skating, that is, but the landing... That's the difficult part," Buffy explained.
"You don't have to..." the hacker started to answer, but Buffy cut her off by moving away.
She gathered momentum by gliding away from the other girl in a large semicircle, then jumped into the figure, landing perfectly on the inner side of the runners.
"You're jumping like an ice princess," Willow said while her friend approached her again.
"So, are you ready?" the Slayer asked, coming to a halt next to Willow.
"Ready for what?"
"For your first skating lesson with your personal trainer, Buffy Summers, the ice princess?" the blonde answered, sounding like the text in a publicity brochure of a skating rink.
"Oh no!"
"Come on, try it."
"I can't."
"Hey, you made it here..." Buffy pointed out while skating away a few yards.
"Don't leave me, Buffy!" Willow panicked.
"Oh, shush, scaredy-cat... Just slowly skate towards me."
"O-okay," was the redhead's answer. She didn't sound very convinced, though.
"I'll catch you if you fall," Buffy assured her.
Willow slowly skated forward, carefully adjusting balance with her arms.
'It took a lot of courage to meet me here if she's that insecure on the ice,' Buffy thought, watching the redhead's slow movements.
Willow approached her and stopped her forward motion by throwing herself into Buffy's arms. Buffy chuckled. "That's why I like giving ice skating lessons, you know!"
Willow rewarded her with a sweet smile.
They did the same exercise some more times -- Buffy skating ahead, then turning around awaiting Willow. The hacker was doing better and better each time.
Just as Willow thought she was ready to try something more advanced by following Buffy to her target point while the blonde was still moving away from her, she bowed over too much while trying to gain momentum.
"Buffffyyyy!" she managed to get out.
The blonde Slayer turned around just in time to see Willow lose her balance. Mobilizing her full Slayer agility, she quickly rushed back to the witch and caught her, grabbing her by the waist.
"You okay?" she asked.
Willow nodded. "Thanks," she mouthed, still a little shocked at her fall and her friend's fast reaction.
"I promised to catch you!"
Willow smiled. They were standing face to face. Very close, in fact. And Buffy still held her by the waist. Where Buffy was touching her, little jolts of electricity seemed to be emitted, rushing through her whole body even though she was wearing a thick wooly sweater.
The closeness was wonderful. She looked at her friend's delicious lips. What would it be like to kiss Buffy? she wondered. They locked eyes.
Willow was getting lost in the hazel eyes in front of her and she felt her breath quickening. She had waited so long for this.
No words were necessary between them, and Buffy seemed to have read her mind as her lips slightly brushed Willow's.
She had kissed those lips a thousand times in her imagination, and yet, not one of those daydreams could have prepared her for the real thing.
"I think I'll fall more often in the future. It's wonderful if I'm caught by you."
"And I'll have to make sure you're alright every time, like I did a moment ago."
"I'm not sure if I'm really alright..." Willow answered teasingly.
"Oh, I'd better check you more carefully then."
And Buffy leaned forward and kissed Willow again. This time, she deepened the kiss, let herself fall into it...
There was no need to talk right now. They would have plenty of time later to talk about the young, fast-growing plant that was their love -- a plant whose seed had been planted at a fountain almost three years ago.
Buffy and Willow glided back to the shore silently and happily, and Buffy noticed that her friend was really doing better from moment to moment. She even seemed to enjoy it a little bit, so maybe they could go to a rink together sometimes.
When they reached the shore, each girl went to retrieve their normal shoes, then met to walk back into town together.
There was one question left, though, and Buffy was dying to know the answer.
"Why did you come here, anyway?" she asked as they walked hand in hand.
"Mom had heard on the news that there would be no school today, so she let me sleep. I've been reading 'til late, so when I finally woke up, it was almost noon already, and I found that note instructing me to come here as soon as possible and, well... here I am," Willow explained.
"You didn't... but I thought..."
"Hey, Ground Control to Buffy. Incoherent thoughts here!" Willow said.
Buffy stopped and looked into the redhead's emerald eyes. She saw the truth of the words she'd spoken in them. Obviously Willow was not responsible for this. But who was able to... and who knew about her feelings... The only answer she could come up with, considering the strange circumstances like the weather change and the perfect timing, was a supernatural one. She just hoped that there wasn't a force of darkness behind this. But why should someone from the abyss of the Hellmouth want to help her and Willow come together? On the other hand, who had the power to do all this? She just couldn't find a satisfactory answer to these questions, and that bugged her.
"Everything's ok?" Willow asked, concerned at her friend's clouded expression.
"Yeah. If I were Faith, I'd say five by five, whatever that means," Buffy replied, starting to walk again. She discarded the worried thoughts that were running through her head, replacing them with her feelings for Willow. What they needed now was an opportunity to sort things out, and the best solution to that was... a sleep-over.
She smiled at the thought and that reassured Willow. She caught up to the Slayer and took her hand again.
Finally they reached the intersection where they had to part for their homes. Buffy took both of Willow's hands into hers and faced her. They stood silently for a moment.
"Meet at 7 at my house for a sleep-over?" Buffy finally asked.
"I'd love to!" Willow whispered with a glint in her eyes.
With a quick kiss on her forehead, Buffy let her go and went home happily.
FINALE
They had started with a rented movie. In the midst of the movie, Willow had put her head down into Buffy's lap, causing a strange glance from Joyce who was checking in to make sure they had everything they needed. Willow had blushed. Joyce didn't know about them -- or did she? Buffy had smiled at her mother, and Joyce just returned her daughter's smile, then went back to the kitchen to continue her preparations for dinner.
After dinner, they retreated to Buffy's room. They had a lot to talk about, after all.
They'd agreed to take it slow, one step at a time. There was no need to rush things, unless the Hellmouth decided the world would be going to end again. Their friends would have to know, and so would Joyce, but not right now. They would have to grow into the new step in their relationship first, and then come out. But they would do it together, go through it together.
They had also talked about the mystery of who was responsible for all this. Buffy had told the hacker her side of the story. Willow had listened in amazement, as this view of things was completely new to her.
Whoever it was, either he would reveal himself, or not, Willow had argued. They should take it as a wonderful gift of an unknown good power, and that would be it. Buffy had agreed.
At 1 a.m., they became too tired to talk anymore.
Without hesitation, Willow laid down next to the Slayer on her broad bed. Buffy grinned and put her arm around her. "Mine," she claimed and placed a small kiss on her cheek. Willow pouted, but her eyes smiled.
"Good night," Buffy said.
"Good night, Buffy," she replied as she yawned heartily, then closed her eyes, knowing she would sleep wonderfully next to the Slayer, who would watch over her. 'I'm lovingly protected by your kisses...' was her last thought before she fell asleep.
Buffy still lay awake for a moment. She couldn't believe how happy she was now, especially in comparison with yesterday. 'It's true,' she thought. 'One day can change your life.'
Her look fell on Mr. Gordo. She took the pig from the small shelf next to her bed, then hesitated for a moment. 'Why not,' she thought. She could as well thank him for the wonderful turn her life had taken in the last 24 hours. She gave him a tight hug. "Thank you," she mouthed.
Buffy then carefully placed the pig next to the stuffed sheep Willow had brought and snuggled up to the sound asleep redhead beside her.
"Happy Birthday, my girl... Hope you like my present. And now sleep tight. We'll watch over you," Mr. Gordo said, but Buffy didn't hear him. Even with her improved Slayer senses, the only thing she could have heard would have been almost a whisper.
THE END