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She had no reason to be nervous. Really. Sure, Buffy was dressed a little strange--hadn't been dressed this way, in fact, since the last Great Faith Debacle--but that was no reason to assume anything wiggy was up. Just because the tight, black leather clothes were the only way to differentiate Angelus from Angel...
But really, it was more just a strange vibe that she got more than anything. Maybe rumbling with Faith had freaked her a little more than she let on. But Faith was in jail now, according to Buffy, so everything was okay?
Right?
Right. Sure. And they were just patrolling like always, never mind the vicious look in Buffy's eyes. Maybe she had wanted to kill Faith. Maybe she's taking out all her aggression on the vampires because Faith's in the hands of the Watchers.
Maybe she asked Willow along so that she could kill her.
No. Every part of her denies that, from her freaked-out mind to her gut. She just doesn't think Buffy could hurt her. And its not so much that Buffy asked her along as dragged her, bouncing and oddly smug and just strange. She hadn't even let Willow call Tara, like she had promised to.
She had been talkative at Giles', commenting and smirking and laughing, but eventually quieting down to her usual self--soberly offering to patrol. When Giles' agreed with her idea, she had pepped, "Cool," and jumped off her stool to grab Willow by the arm, laughingly pulling her out the door. "Keep me company, okay?"
"But I have to call-"
"Will, what's more important--vampires or phone calls?"
So she had agreed to come with, but since leaving Giles' street Buffy hadn't even spoken. Willow had tried to initiate conversation-asking about Riley, wondering how her mom was doing-and Buffy had just thrown her a glance and grunted. Not like Cave-Buffy, just like...someone being dismissive. Which made no sense, since it was Buffy who'd asked her to come along in the first place.
Willow was snapped out of her inner ramblings--had to stop those, immediately! Yes, Captain!--as Buffy threw another vamp into the side of the mausoleum. He was pretty beat up already, but apparently it wasn't enough for Buff. It reminds her of how Giles described her slaying while Ted was around-way too brutal for a normal night. But more than anything it reminds her of Faith, and all she could do is lean against this gravestone and stare silently at the savage grace of the Slayer. Just look at that, there's blood in a wicked streak on the wall... Willow feels something like mild shock, but she's in a kind of daze, hypnotized by the thwap sound of Buffy's fists on the vampire's dead flesh.
Then, suddenly, he's dust. Buffy pushes blond, curly strands of hair out of her face and pants, throwing the stake to the ground like she's disgusted by it. Or like she doesn't need it anymore; its useless. Either way, Will is still so dazed from that one simple action that she doesn't notice when Buffy is right in front of her, grinning in her face. "That was a good kill, right?" And now she's talking again, sounding like an overactive puppy.
Without waiting for an answer, Buffy crows and cracks her knuckles, turning around to give the rest of the graveyard a quick once-over before turning back to Willow. "Yeah, that was good. I've missed this."
"You mean, patrolling together?" Willow's voice is slightly shaky, more feminine that she intends for it to sound. She feels like the damsel in distress. "I've missed this too. We haven't done this since. . ."
Buffy's eyes narrow minutely, almost before Willow can register it, but they return to being bottle-bright pieces of green glass in an instant. "Since what," she says brightly.
Since... "Faith," Willow says simply, watching Buffy's face tighten a bit. "You started patrolling with her and leaving me out of it, and I guess that habit sort of stuck. Not that I mind," she added quickly, before Buffy could speak. She looked away, eyes wandering over the fresh cemetery grass. "I know you just want to protect me."
"Of course." Will looks up at Buffy, catching the absolutely serious look on her face, something strained and raw and...just, truthful. Her eyes were fixed intently on Willow's face. "I meant what I said. I'd never let anything hurt you. Anything." And the only time Will can ever recall hearing that tone is in Xander's voice, when the next door neighbor's dog bit her, and he wanted to throw rocks at it, little-boy anger in his face...something like early brutality.
And then... Buffy's lips are on hers, and its not so much a kiss as something harsh and wicked, a wild liquid mashing of lips that only incidentally has any tenderness. The tenderness is her lower lip, between Buffy's teeth, being rolled around like a good chewtoy--Oz--but oh, isn't this her best friend? Buffy--
Oh.
And it stops, quickly. When Buffy pulls away, she is wearing a wicked grin, and Willow's blood on her lips, like lipstick. She licks it off, and lets out a happy little sigh, satisfied. And Willow, frightened and excited, hand to her lips, looks into Buffy's eyes and sees
Faith.
"Oh, God," she says weakly, and the grin on Buffy's-Faith's-face falters.
"What?" she says, uneasy and snappish.
But Willow cant talk, because Buffy has Faith's eyes, and it makes no sense, but it's her: wild, ragged, empty soulless eyes, begging for Willow to say something, do something, help her anyway that she can anyway and Willow.
Can't breathe. Can't respond, and certainly can't give Faith whatever it is she needs. Love. Redemption. Forgiveness. And she hates herself for wanting this, for wanting this girl in front of her who killed a man strangled her best friend held a knife to her throat and now has Buffy, Buffy's body, and does that mean its Buffy in England? No wonder she had thought it so funny earlier...
"What?" Faith snarls again, sounding downright snippy this time, and now she has Willow by the throat.
She just barely manages to squeak out "Faith." Which makes the other girl drop her, a look of shock coming over her face.
The Slayer draws in a ragged breath, muttering. She's pacing, and Willow's once again pressed against the gravestone, and poor Peter Willet is sure seeing a lot of action tonight...
When Faith turns around again, she has Buffy's face arranged in a pretty grin. Buffy's voice says, "Okay. Now you're going to tell me how you know, before I get a little testy." If you pay close, close attention you can see the difference, the way Faith slings her hips a bit more than Buffy, how her movements are much more choppy and harsh. And Willow sure as hell assumes that if Buffy ever kissed her--fat chance of that, and really, she's grateful of it--she wouldn't damn near tear her lip off.
But instead she shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just a guess."
Faith is pissed, and she's next to Willow in a flash, grabbing her by the back of the head pulling her hair and oh, she loves these Spike flashbacks. No broken bottles, though, which is a small comfort. "Bullshit," Faith opines, face all up next to Willow's. "So tell me, has she kissed you or something? And I kiss different than her? Cause if B's had her hands on my girl, it may get messy." And she leans over to lick Willow's ear.
"N-n-n-no," Willow says meekly. And oh, she thought she'd gotten rid of that stutter... It makes her think, if dully, of Tara, and she wonders if the other girl is worried yet. I am, you know. God, how will she ever tell this to Tara, and when Buffy comes back, what will she say?
But those aren't the things to worry about now, since Faith still has a chunk of her hair wrapped in a single clenched fist. "That a fact?" she asks, smirking. It almost makes Willow smile, because if she was anyone else, she would have found it funny, this little blond girl with the badass attitude, the crazy eyes. . . But she's seen Buffy before, and she's seen Faith before, so she can feel the fear, coursing through her, and a certain amount of assurance that no, Faith won't kill her. She called me her girl. . .
She receives a quick, soft kiss on the mouth before she realizes it, then Faith's mouth is back on her ear. "Pay attention, lover. I don't mind you staring at me, but we're talking, here."
"Oh, right. Sorry." The spry, obedient note in Willow's voice makes her flinch, but it throws another smile across Faith's face, she can feel her chuckle into her hair.
"Good girl."
And then Faith is kissing her again, kissing her with Buffy's mouth and oh, this is strange, but not any stranger than remembering Spike, with his hand wound in her hair, his breath--oh, God, he breathed--on his neck; remembering Angel, body pressed against hers as he stroked her face gently, like a lover. Oz, he used to growl into her mouth as she fondled the soft hair on his belly, and yes, even Tara, the look she got in her eyes after a spell. . .yes, all of them, brutal and tender all at once. But nothing compares to this, to Faith-in-Buffy, and Faith-in-Willow as she slips her tongue into the other girl's mouth, and yes, there are teeth there too.
They slip to the ground together, loose cemetery dirt beneath their knees, Faith's left hand knotting Willow's hair in her clenched fist, her other on Willow's knee; Willow with both hands on Faith's forearms, feeling the muscles there, so strong, clenching and unclenching and
Wham. Willow's head slams into the headstone with a slight noise-it's not too hard, Faith would never hurt her too much if she didn't have to-and her teeth snap shut on Faith's tongue.
Faith pulls away. "Shit!" Willow can taste blood, and as she sees Faith stand above her, she watches the other girl spit red into the air.
It hurts, dimly. Things are kind of dark and maybe she has a concussion... Faith is on her knees next to Willow, again, looking into her face. Deep, dark pits of eyes, Buffy's usual bright green corrupted by Faith's dark; they are forest-colored. "Sorry, baby. But I got some business to do. I just wanted us to have a little fun first. . ."
The kiss on her forehead is light, feather-quick and sweet, so soft. "I'll be back, Will. I didn't hit you so hard, I only did it cause I had to. . . You'll be fine, just a little headache. I'd never let anything hurt you."
And Willow believes.
