Switcheroony
by alicorn
Chapter 39
[reviews]
Giles couldn't quite believe what he was seeing as the lights went out yet again. 'What the devil is going on?' He thought he'd seen two figures, just two. Where was Buffy? Unable to reconcile what he thought he'd seen, he shifted into the reality of what needed to be done. "Okay, we have two incoming. Get ready."
Cordelia moved herself as far over to the left of the rear seat as she could manage, anticipating that the last thing that would be needed was an argument over seating. Her nerves rattled as she waited. 'What kept them? Why only two? Who did they leave behind' she wondered, but her concern was distracted by the sound of running feet.
Having a body thrown into her lap wasn't quite what Cordy had been expecting let alone having that body grab hold of her and whisper, "Sorry, didn't mean to keep you waiting, babe."
Throwing her arms around the woman now sitting in her lap, in relief Cordelia exclaimed "Faith?" before she could stop herself.
Faith smiled, hearing the concern in her tone, and before Cordelia could say anything more she gently kissed her friend's neck, "But you so know you're gonna forgive me."
"In your dreams," Cordelia spat as she tried to ignore the goose bumps, not to mention the tingles that the feel of Faith's lips had caused. But her momentary embarrassment was quickly forgotten, as first Buffy and then Willow piled in next to her.
"Hit it, Giles," Buffy yelled as she pulled Willow, who almost landed on top of her, into the car and closed the door behind her.
Forgetting his concerns at getting all of them out of there as soon as possible Giles found himself needing to ask the question. "Buffy?"
"The one and only. The Slayer has returned." Buffy exclaimed, before recalling that Faith was in the car too. "Well, the first one anyhow." Then she recalled all the previous slayers in her line. "Well, the first of the two of us, that is. It's me, okay? I'm back," she asserted as Willow gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "And we're back," she added smiling to herself before muttering, "I really need to get back to the one liners and lose the Willow-babble."
Not needing to hear anything more Giles released the break and hit the accelerator allowing the car to speed forward as if it was leaping with the same excitement he felt exploding inside at the knowledge that everyone was still alive.
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Angel knew that they had gone and he knew that he should too. He should leave not only this battle but also the Hellmouth because something he didn't like the feel of was nagging at him, calling to him. Throwing the last of his attackers against the rear wall he found himself growling in annoyance, disturbed by the emotions and the not so subtle digs his demon had been making.
When had he lost the inner peace he'd found so comforting since leaving her and this place? He couldn't recall any specific moment. It was as if it had crept up on him only to be heightened by returning to this town.
No, there had been that man, that Wolfram and Hart magical grunt. He'd taken something, he'd drawn something from him, he'd ... Angel searched his memories desperate to grasp the thought, the knowledge, the understanding of events that he could only sense.
Heading towards the stairs he heard a car engine gunning and then the spinning of tires as it pulled away. Sighing, he felt, both, relieved and annoyed yet unsure why he should be plagued by either emotion. It was as if he didn't know himself and he didn't like that at all. The only way he had managed to survive all these years of feelings and emotions was to know himself and his limits.
But the raging anger at the injustice of having lost Buffy and being back here reliving that loss began to overwhelm his search for logic, for meaning. The voice of his demon was growing louder, its comments closer to the bone than he really wanted to admit. He was jealous, he was angry; he could feel his blood temperature rising as the image of Buffy and Willow flew back into his mind.
'Whatever she's hoping to get from the witch will be nowhere near what you can give her. How could it ever be?' his demon whispered.
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Holland Manners had only one question once his young protégée had completed his re-materialization. "Well?"
Staring anywhere but at the Senior Partner, a thousand possible variations and excuses ran through Hyatt Ramu's mind. Could he risk saying he'd killed her in the hope that he could get the job done before they discovered the lie? Should he say he'd only managed to wound her? No! Any of the firm's many seers would be able to provide the truth within minutes of being asked. Maybe he could admit to having hit the wrong slayer and blame Maclay. That could work, that daft old bird had it coming anyway. Shifting his eyes back towards his boss, he reviewed the options again, hoping to glimpse something in those blue eyes, some idea of how much he knew.
But the ice-cold eyes of the Senior Partner seemed to have nothing for him, no clue, no direction. All he knew for certain was that he was taking too long with his answer. Swallowing, he made a decision in that split second that could come back to haunt him. He chose honesty. "She lives," he muttered, preparing himself as best he could, to pay what he was sure would be an excruciating price for his failure. But the Senior Partner's reaction wasn't at all what he had expected.
Holland threw his head back and laughed, "But of course she does."
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As they sped away Buffy tried to relax, but it didn't come easily. She could still feel Willow drawing something from her. It felt oddly personal and appeared to be creating such a connection that Buffy swore she could almost feel Willow's heart beating. Realizing that it had been the other Slayer who had first known this with her, Buffy felt jealousy wash over her. She hadn't been the first to feel this connection with her true love, to experience this link to such a gentle and yet intensely strong woman. Oz had been the first to receive her love and know her, Tara had been the first woman, Faith had been the first to feel the link. Was she to be the only one not to experience a first with her true love, the best friend she had known longer than any of them had?
Briefly glancing at the woman whose hand was holding her own so firmly, she let her eyes linger on their joined hands, as she inexplicably wondered what everyone in the car was thinking about the fact that they were holding hands. 'What's wrong with that? What am I, some kind of prude? After all I've been through with this woman. They all know what we did. Well, kinda. Hell, they all heard me declare myself, declare my love. Oh, when am I gonna get over myself? What is this... high school? We're two grown women; we don't need to explain ourselves to anyone.' Continuing her internal rant and berating herself for the feelings of embarrassment and shyness, she found herself torn between wanting to shout to the world that she had found the woman of her dreams and yet wanting to keep these early tender steps of their relationship private.
Why was this always a battle for her? Why couldn't she ever have something that was just hers, something unconnected to her role as the Slayer? Was that even possible? But then again, if it hadn't been for who and what she was and the way her Slayer powers or lack of them had shaped events, would she ever have had the courage to fight for this, to have taken the risk of losing her dearest friend in the hope of something that could be so much more?
Willow had risked everything for her too. How could she ignore what that meant? Buffy couldn't. Lost for words and unwilling to share how she felt with the rest of the gang in the car, she moved her right hand briefly, covered their joined hands and gently squeezed in a silent 'thank you' before returning her free hand to the back of the front seat as a brace against Giles' somewhat erratic driving.
Willow felt a sudden flow of warmth from Buffy's small and simple act. Certain that she was now blushing as she searched for a response, something true, something honest.... raising Buffy's hand, she silently brushed her lips over the soft skin of the woman who filled her heart.
Buffy's breath caught in her throat and she thought she was going faint from the shiver of electricity that seemed to shoot straight to her heart. 'Oh Wow! How does she do that? 'Okay, so it's a given that I won't be the first ... but I'm gonna be the last. And Hell will freeze over before I screw this up'.
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Slim dragged his bruised and battered body up the stairs, cursing under his breath. It had taken him far too long to make his way out of the debris that had once been his side of the building. The three colleagues that he had managed to find were so badly wounded that they couldn't be moved. He'd had to leave them. Making his way to the rear of the building in the hope that he wouldn't be able to confirm his fear, he mentally crossed his fingers that the reason for the sudden radio silence wasn't what he expected it to be. Calling for their extraction because they had failed in their mission was something he didn't want to have to do. He'd heard stories about what happened to those that failed.
Reaching the top of the stairs he crouched before tentatively pushing open the door as he cursed the day they'd ever been selected for this mission. He never would have believed that this could happen. They were professionals. How could a group of college kids and a stuffed shirt Brit do this to them? He and his men had taken out demon clans, disposed of mob bosses; hell, they'd even out-foxed the FBI only last year.
As his actions hadn't produced a hail of bullets, he chose to stand before entering the upper level of the warehouse. Stepping out into the open he quickly took in the scene before him. Four men were scattered on the ground obviously unconscious, if not dead.
The movement had been so sudden that he couldn't quite take it in at first. He was being lifted. Something had him by the scruff of his neck.
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Giles glanced in his rear view mirror, his nerves still refusing to believe that they weren't being followed. However, what caught his attention was the rather odd expression on the face of his Slayer in the back seat. "Buffy? Are you okay?"
"Huh ... What?" Buffy mumbled, suddenly awakened from the awe of how Willow's tender kiss had affected her.
"Are you okay?" Giles repeated.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. A little giddy to be back in my own bod but I'm good," Buffy responded.
"Welcome back," Xander added, twisting his neck to glance into the back seat before asking, "Did they let anything slip? You know like the name of the guy behind this strong-arm interference?"
"Nope, they pretty much kept me in the dark, literally. I don't know what they thought I'd do if I could see them," Buffy commented, recalling the dark despair that she had visited while awaiting her rescue. Suddenly remembering how she had believed that Willow might be dead, her eyes glazed over.
"Buffy?" Xander questioned, the faint light from the dashboard allowing him to see her momentarily leave them.
Seeing the concern evident in his face, Buffy threw him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I was back there for a minute. Gave me the wiggins." She allowed herself to shiver and shrug her shoulders as if throwing the memories away.
" 'Creepezoid mercenaries in the pay of some big bad wolf taking on innocent blond riding hood' - not exactly pay-per-view. The ending's a given," Xander smirked.
"Red riding hood was not blond," Anya suddenly piped up, "and as for innocent ... what she did to the Wolfgang brothers could get you arrested in certain states."
No one said anything; no one knew what to say and Xander simply crossed his eyes as if to say — don't ask me.
Ignoring Anya's outburst, Giles turned away from the warehouse area and onto Main Street, before advising "Willow, I think you can let go of the lights now. No one's been following us." Allowing a good five hundred yards to pass before pulling over, as the pain in his leg was increasing, he added, "Xander, much as I hate to ask, could you drive? I'm certain that most of us will be requiring medical assistance if not the solitude of a nice warm bed."
Hesitantly releasing Buffy's hand, Willow felt the heat rising in her cheeks. For reasons that she knew too well, the idea of lying in a nice warm bed alone did nothing to relieve the aches that were racking her newly returned body, let alone the longing in her heart. 'What has she been doing to me?' she wondered as she tried to release a knot in her shoulder and the throbbing in the rest of her body. 'Oh yeah, tied up most of the day.'
Buffy felt Willow leave. It was as if the sun had vanished behind a cloud and she didn't like it one little bit. There had been a brief flash of concern. Realizing that she had momentarily felt her Willow's distress, Buffy turned her full attention to her true love. Ignoring the others, she twisted in the limited space available, reaching to cup Willow's face. "Wil? What's wrong?" the Slayer questioned as she felt something push against her back.
"Hey. Owwww," protested Faith as Buffy pushed against her wounded leg.
Realizing what she had done, Buffy immediately released Willow and tried to move back, only to jam against Faith's leg again.
"HEY!! Watch it."
"Sorry," Buffy offered again, suddenly feeling like a klutz, as she tried to find a safe way to maneuver that didn't involve throwing herself at Willow.
"Oh for heavens sake!" Cordelia exclaimed.
"Sorry," Buffy repeated in an almost whisper, wanting more than anything to disappear, as she tried a standing crouch, only to pull Faith's leg up with her.
"Eeeeeooooooowwwwww!!!!" screamed Faith, gulping in a lung full of air. "Okay that's it! Look, Red slowed the bleeding but this gunshot wound still hurts like hell. You've slept together. We all know you have. Joy of joys, you've wandered through each other's love valley. You've walked in each other's bodies. Plus you're in love with each other and it's not a secret anymore — SO SIT ON HER LAP ALREADY!" Faith growled through pain-clenched teeth.
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Angel grabbed the mercenary by the scruff of his neck, as the man emerged from the doorway, hoisting him upwards. He'd been perched above the doorway, about to exit the same way he'd come in; in the hope that retracing his steps would bring him back down from his somewhat agitated and aggressive state. But then this guy had thrown open the door and for some reason beyond his understanding and the vampire had been drawn back into why this was all happening. Or to be more precise why this was happening to him?
'You get cursed; you have a soul forced upon you. That's not punishment enough? Oh, no. The witches want bubble, bubble, toil and trouble for you, my boy. They want their pound of flesh. So they hook you up with little miss virgin goody-two-shoes and her gang of misfits to plague you with humanity. They pump blood into the weakest organ in your long-deceased body. And then - oh and this is the sweet part — they hang it out to dry. They take the little blonde away and give her to ... another witch. You're telling me that it was just coincidence that her best friend was a witch? Yeeeah right!' his demon ranted. The voice was getting louder, and he didn't seem able to block it.
Shaking the man vigorously he felt it rise within him; the rage, the hunger, the fire, and the knowledge that this would take nothing, be nothing and not matter at all. What is one life, one single solitary soul? Of what importance was this man's soul; was it more important than his own? This man had killed, he could smell it on him and, yet, someone somewhere had decided that he - could not, should not kill him. Where had these impossible rules come from? Weren't his needs, his longings, his desire for victory just as valid?
He knew he was doing it, he was letting the demon in, at it's own pace. And his world was becoming darker.
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Xander could hardly deal with the incredible number of quips and one-liners that insisted on battling for primary position in his mind every time he looked or glanced at the rear view mirror. The image of Buffy and Willow holding hands created some intense fantasies. Hell, that was to be expected. Now add that not only was Faith practically sitting on Cordy's lap but also that Buffy was actually sitting on Willow's. It all just pushed his imagination into overdrive. And having had his own little sex beast Anya, sitting in his lap, wriggling every time Giles attempted to change gears, really hadn't helped any either.
Swapping seats with Giles was meant to help, but despite Xander trying to concentrate on getting them all home safely, he could still see the Watcher rather stiffly trying to ignore the fact that he was now practically sitting on Anya's lap. The young man swallowed the latest imaginative pictures back just as he opened his mouth. He really wanted to have some fun but expressing his often under-appreciated sense of humor in this confined space was just asking for trouble. Having survived their rescue attempt, he really wasn't about to tempt fate. The odds were sure to be against his survival if he let loose in front of this audience and he knew it.
Not sure when he'd started to take an interest in their mission-by-mission survival statistics, he mentally assessed this one. 'Okay, we have two non-fatal injuries but everyone's skin and non-bumpy facial futures were intact. Today was a good day, a success by every measure that mattered.'
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Unnerved by the unusual and unnatural silence that had settled over the group, Cordelia decided to open up a subject and not just any subject. "How on earth did you get shot anyway?"
"Duh, let me think... I got in the bullet's way," Faith responded dismissively, more than a little distracted by the discussion Giles and Xander were having about the most direct route to Sunnydale Memorial Hospital.
"A bullet meant for us," Willow piped in.
"For me," Buffy corrected.
"You should have let them shoot Buffy - she has Slayer healing too. Why would you deliberately let someone shoot you? Ohh oh, if Buffy and Willow can't forgive you now that they're multi-orgasm buddies, you thought getting shot would do it!" Anya stated in all seriousness.
"Anya's right," Cordelia commented. Receiving a combined hail of questioning looks and raised eyebrows, she added, "Well she is. You chose to take the bullet?"
"No choice. They didn't see it and I didn't have time to warn them," Faith responded, trying to appear as matter of fact as she could since this whole 'you took a bullet for them because you want forgiveness' was just a little too close to the bone.
"We were distracted. We should have been paying more attention," Buffy mumbled, as she tried to figure out what the hell she actually wanted to say.
"You're damn right you should have been paying more attention," Cordelia blasted the blonde slayer. "I don't give a damn about this weird holy grail of absolution. Faith didn't deserve to get shot."
"I know that," Buffy responded, her back rising at the inferred accusation.
Faith turned her head and catching her friend's eye in a fixed stare, she firmly stated, "C, it happened. My choice. I owe them both that much and more. So, let's just get past it."
Realizing that Faith wasn't going to budge on what she'd chosen to do or why, Cordelia huffed. 'Why on earth does she think fixing things has to hurt?' Cordelia wondered. "Yes well, I'm just thinking... you know, it's not like we have a Slayer incorporated HMO is it? That and your police record should make filling in the Memorial's forms a real hoot."
Looking straight at Cordy, Faith did little to hide the fear, "I can't go there! They'll call the cops." Faith's head swam as the reality of their destination sank in. The last time she'd entered that hospital... Gulping for air she became more and more agitated as harsh memories flashed before her.
Despite at first questioning the intensity of Faith's emotions, Cordelia was drawn into the fear as Faith instinctively began trying to escape. Cordelia saw the haunted look of someone reliving a nightmare. 'She's terrified!!' The Seer immediately tried to calm the dark-haired Slayer. "Faith, take it easy, honey. You're making it bleed again."
"I'm not going there, you can't make me. Stop the car, donut boy!" she demanded, trying to lurch towards the steering wheel. "Let me outta this car!" Faith insisted, before catching sight of Willow's concerned expression. "I'll take care of myself," she added momentarily finding rational thought.
Cordelia tightened her grip before calmly stating, "You are not going anywhere, young lady. You need medication and treatment." Turning to Willow, she quietly added, "Can you do your witchy thing to slow down the bleeding again?"
"I'm not going back there," Faith continued to insist, which did nothing to calm everyone's concern at her obvious distress.
Willow nodded at Cordy before quickly and firmly taking Buffy's hand once again, telling herself that she just wanted to juice up the spell she'd used to keep Faith from bleeding to death in the warehouse. Reaching out to the dark Slayer, she wrestled to grasp her hand, as Faith continued to try to evade Cordelia's hold, which the Seer was trying to maintain without hurting her further.
'I won't go back there. You can't seriously expect me to go back there. To wake up in that room again... alone.' Suddenly she was back in the hospital, in a coma. 'So alone... stare up at that ceiling... I can hear them talking over me... like I'm not here. No one can hear me... so alone...' Faith couldn't breathe. 'Was the knife still in her? Didn't they take it out? Why did it still hurt? Someone was pushing it... No.... Someone was holding it... no... holding her... Cordelia... was holding her. Will she keep hold... what if she lets go? Why do I think she's different? I couldn't trust before... Look what I did... I lost everything... not again. Not again.'
Although she had never seen Faith so upset before, Buffy understood her fellow slayer completely. She, herself, hated hospitals and she recalled her own dreams about Faith, their fight and the coma. Those were dreams she never wanted to have again, let alone share or go through again. But despite her sympathy there was one thing about the scene before her that forced her to smile - Cordelia had turned herself into "little miss clingy", trying to keep hold of Faith. It seemed that Queen C was prepared to get really personally involved in this one. But that didn't change the fact that Faith's writhing was going to get someone hurt. "FAITH!" she bellowed in warning. But just as she prepared herself to give into her Slayer instincts and launch into the fray, the warm tingle that was spreading up her arm and across her chest calmed her. Buffy decided that she really could get used to having this magic connection with Willow.
Giles interjected, keeping his tone measured, "Faith, we have to go to hospital. You have to be properly treated and so do I. You can't just rely on Willow slowing down the bleeding until your Slayer healing takes over."
His argument was reasonable and logical but Cordelia could feel Faith's heart racing nonetheless. She was heading towards complete panic. "I know Willow's like 'magic Swiss army knife gal' but you guys must have proper medical supplies somewhere?"
"Of course we do," Willow assured her, "Giles has the main store of medical supplies at his place. There's a smaller supply at the shop and top-notch first aid kits at most of our homes. I always carry some sutures and a... Why?"
'They had let her slip into it... they had been relieved... they had let her go. Just like all the others. No one had held her hand, no one had... missed her.' Faith wasn't hearing what was currently going on around her; she was back in the hospital during her coma. She was in a complete meltdown, terrified of going back to jail and terrified of go to the hospital — both held cold memories for her.
Cordelia gently leaned towards the ear of the terrified woman, who was tugging at her heart, and gently said, "Faith, let me take care of you. No hospitals, no police. I promise. Do you trust me?"
"You won't let go?" Faith asked in a quiet almost childlike voice.
"I'll never let you go," Cordelia assured her without hesitation.
Her voice childlike and trusting, Faith whispered, "Okay."
Cordelia felt her heart leap at Faith's response and she raised her head squaring her jaw. "Xander, drop Giles off at the hospital. Then take us to his place." She was going to make this happen. "Willow, I'll need you with us."
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Intrigued by Cordelia's apparent need to care of Faith, Willow began to recall the looks she had seen pass between the two women but more importantly what had been hidden in their glances when the other wasn't aware. Turning to Buffy, a silent acknowledgement and understanding was reached without the need for words.
Buffy turned to interrupt Giles' objections, "I think Faith's right. The hospital will have to report gunshot wounds to the police, who'll come to investigate. That wouldn't be good for her. As a matter of fact, it wouldn't be good for any of us,"
"And the bad guys know we have wounded. They'll be expecting us to go to the hospital," Willow added. "It's not safe."
Nodding Buffy jumped back in, eager to push their point home. "But they haven't been to Giles' place yet."
Xander changed direction as Giles asked nervously, "And just who is going to treat us and take out the bullets?"
"I will," Willow responded as confidently as she could manage, "From what I've learned in the past day about controlling gravity's effect on inanimate objects... harnessing the natural magnetic field of an object... I'm fairly certain that by drawing on Slayer magic I will be able to extract... remove the bullets. I know I can do it," the wiccan ended throwing Faith a look loaded with promise.
"Are you sure?" Cordelia and Giles asked in unison.
Feeling the need to acknowledge the efforts that both Willow and Buffy were going to on her behalf, Faith responded to the question. "If Red says she can do, that's good enough for me." Willow was obviously still trying to regain control of her facial emotions, as her face showed both thanks and an intense pressure to succeed. So Faith took immediate action to lighten the load, as only she could. "But you're gonna practice on Giles first, right?"
For the first time in what seemed like ages everyone laughed ... except Giles.
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Willow had never experienced such exquisite torture; for what seemed like hours she had been trapped in the back seat of Giles' car with her beloved firmly seated on her lap.
Her mind had traveled through simply thousands of mental pleasures, as every movement of the car seemed to make Buffy's rear press more firmly against her pelvis; with each gear change, every time Xander braked or steered sharply into a corner Willow's world became one of heightened senses and growing hunger. She had never felt such raw need. It was as if their forced separation and public reunion had only served to bring into sharper focus every desire and dream; some guttural and basic, others residing in the clouds and almost noble.
Much to Willow's surprise Buffy had displayed a very apparent delight in not being able to move from her lap since Faith and Cordy had remained in the back seat of the tiny car. In fact her Slayer seemed to settle herself in, twisting slightly to one side, throwing her right arm behind the trapped wiccan's head, before pulling Willow's arms around her waist. All of this did nothing to alleviate her pleasurable discomfort. Buffy's deep sigh of contentment seemed to travel from her own body and to Willow's. Buffy seemed to no longer care who saw them.
'Is it possible? Does she feel it too?' wondered Willow in awe, gently squeezing Buffy before returning the 'sigh', hopeful that she would be understood. And then she faced true temptation. Just there, at the end of her nose, so close she could almost feel their rise and fall, almost caress those tender slopes; she lost all sense of time and place. Hypnotized by the tantalizing closeness of Buffy's breasts, their movement, the hint of white lace only visible when she inhaled, the subtle interruption to the smooth fabric that indicated the presence of an obviously hardening nipple - she was lost.
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Somehow everything seemed to amuse the Senior Partner about this whole situation. His eyes crinkled at the look of distress and wounded pride that ran across Hyatt's features. It had been so long since he had tasted this himself. Why couldn't the young man see the ridiculousness of it all, how wafer thin the possibility of total success had ever been?
He often wished that more young people would take an interest in good wine. The ground is tended and fed, sometimes for centuries, the casks treasured from generation to generation, the vines inherited as if gold. And when a cask is bottled with due reverence, it is because everyone knows that when the wine has reached its potential. Only then can they taste the fruits of their endeavor and classify it a success or failure.
However, Maclay's obvious enjoyment of Hyatt's discomfort would have been seen as creepy by most people. The man had issues that would have challenged Holland Manners in his early years. But after over four decades of living mostly waist high in this little seen world, there was very little that really concerned him about the extremes of the human mind.
Maclay thought of himself as a Napoleonic figure, fighting for his birthright and with the egotistical belief that he was somehow going to be a savior to the men of his clan, welcomed with open arms and gratitude. Manners could almost predict Maclay's reactions when his news and arrival wasn't received as he obviously expected it to be. No story was ever truly new.
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Willow's response was more than she'd hoped for or expected. Buffy could feel the heat, hear the increase in her true love's breathing and feel her trying not to clench her thighs together. The thrill of knowing that she was the cause of Willow's obvious arousal was exhilarating. 'Oh, hell.' She wanted her. No, she needed her. Realizing that Willow was now visually devouring her breasts didn't really make the journey to Giles' place any easier, but she actually didn't want to stop this. She could feel her nipples beginning to harden under the heated gaze of the woman who at this moment seemed able to stop her heart mid beat whenever she wanted. And having Cordelia and Faith next to them in the car only seemed to make things hotter.
Briefly their eyes met, through heavy lids, intoxicated by the desire that they were mutually allowing to build. Buffy could feel her stomach muscles beginning to tighten. She could almost feel her skin tingling, warming under Willow's loving gaze. Swallowing she averted her eyes. Never had she felt so shy and yet so brazen; so completely consumed in the moment.
Adding into the mix the occasional fantasy-enriched glance from Xander in the rear view mirror and her own numerous prayers to the powers that be that Anya would not speak and ruin this sweet agony, Buffy came to the stark realization that this was by far the strangest, most agonizing and erotic foreplay she had ever known. And she loved it.
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"Can't I just drink half a bottle of gin, like in the movies?" Faith suggested, as she watched Willow pounding the large pile of herby looking sticks to dust before adding it to the saucepan boiling away on the stove at Giles' place.
"This is an anesthetic. You may have slayer healing and pain tolerance, but Giles doesn't. Extracting a bullet through traumatized flesh... " Willow stopped, realizing that she was saying more than she needed to. Sorry. "That part usually gets left out."
"I can't imagine why," Giles muttered.
"Yeah. Thanks for the visual," Faith added, grimacing at the thought of being conscious through this. She'd lain in that truck for over an hour with her knife sticking out of her; the one Buffy had stabbed her with. She'd felt her own blood seeping into her clothing. Blood had always just been part of business until then, probably because it had always been someone else's. She felt a pressure on her shoulder and, turning, she saw Cordelia's reassuring face.
Glancing at the contents of the saucepan Willow turned to Buffy. "Could you pass me the sugar... uhh... honey?"
"Honey?" Buffy questioned momentarily thrown by the apparent endearment.
Realizing what she'd just said, Willow stammered "I... I meant... the honey... Not you 'Honey'... not that you're not. If I was going to give you a... a pet name, not that I would without checking if you liked it... I mean some pet names are just silly and childish... using rhymes... like Xander the Philanderer... Or Buffy the Muff... [gulp]. I should stop speaking now... " Willow finally decided before squeaking out, "Honey helps the medicine go down."
Quickly covering her embarrassment at the rhyme Willow had almost completed, Buffy glanced at the boiling potion. "Are you sure you're going to need that much?"
Willow glanced at her recipe, grateful to be able to change the subject. "Well the recipe asked for seven quarts of... Oh... seven cups!"
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Willow leaned over Faith, her right palm turned upwards, her left hand firmly grasping Buffy's. As she slowly pulled her palm higher, Faith once again began to complain that she didn't need the disgusting looking concoction; the witch paused until the dark slayer settled down.
"Oh for goodness sake, just drink the damned stuff," Cordelia ordered, shoving the glass of pale green liquid in front of Faith.
Faith glared at her and shook her head. But Cordelia just glared right back.
Staring in amusement at the battle of wills before her, Buffy couldn't help but feel sorry for Faith; she'd finally met her match.
Leaning forward, Cordelia fixed Faith with a far too knowing look. "Just exactly who are you trying to impress?" she asked, shaking her head in annoyance before her eyes softened to make clear that she knew this show of bravery was intended to impress her. "Thank you, but I'd prefer roses and a pair of Jimmy Choo's. I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be the level-headed and dependable one. Now drink so we can get this over with and they can take care of Giles."
Taking in the meaning of her words, Faith realized how foolish she was being. Leaning forward she placed her lips on the rim of the glass and Cordelia nodded tilting the glass for her.
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Holland Manners guided Maclay towards the main foyer, only half listening to the ramblings of the wanna-be demigod.
"Of course, most people believe that a man's allegiance to the social order, common decency and cultural taboos is either a matter of nurture or nature. However, I and many others have always believed that there is a third and more spiritual control in play; the balance of what is perceived as good and evil contained within any human soul," Maclay continued to ramble.
"Indeed?" the Senior Partner interjected with what he judged to be just the right note of interest.
"Oh yes. A soul's ever evolving balance of good and evil dictates far more than people give it credit for. Think of the human soul as a filter, connecting experience and emotion before passing the end product on to your decision processing cortex, the balance deciding what gets through and what doesn't, slanting the tone and color of your options. And so if we remove, say, even some small part of the good balance, the decision making process is weighted, isn't it? Maybe towards perceived evil - towards say emotional need, animalistic desire and man's instinct to survive at whatever price. By altering a soul's balance you can alter the perceived consequences and ramifications of any decision," Maclay concluded, "And I think I'm about to prove that beyond all doubt."
"Really?" Holland Manners smiled.
"You can thank me later," Maclay advised him as he finally exited the building.
***********************************BtVS****************************
Buffy followed Willow into the bathroom after she had finished treating Faith, unwilling and unable to be without her for any length of time. The connection had become even stronger than before and when it was broken she once again felt the loss. 'How can my whole world so totally change in such a short time?' she wondered before laughing to herself. 'Everything in my life happens at such break-neck speed that my brain just has trouble keeping up.'
Willow flipped down the toilet seat to sit down, leaning back against the tank. "I just need to regroup before the next one," she stated as if needing to explain.
"I know. It's okay," Buffy assured her, kneeling in front of the woman she couldn't bear to be apart from.
Willow gazed down at her with such gratitude and understanding that Buffy felt compelled to say, "You were amazing. I could feel the control that took. I'm not sure how you did it."
Her praise got her a weak smile from the wiccan as she shrugged her shoulders. "Let's see if it works, before we start with the ticker tape parade. There were so many veins to close, so much blood. I'm pretty sure that she could feel it towards the end. I'm going to have to make the potion stronger. What if ..."
Reaching up and grasping her hands, Buffy stopped the babble. "You were amazing. It will work. Did you see how Giles looked at you? He was so proud," Buffy stated before adding, "And I'm so proud that I could just..." she leaned in to kiss Willow's hand. Fighting the urge to reach up and feed on those luscious lips, she switched gears. "But you can't go back in there until you recharge so where do I plug you in?"
Raising Buffy's hands she returned the kiss before gazing at her best friend and replying with a smile "Already we need toys?"
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Much thanks to Lilly the Treasure