Authors Note ~ Happy Birthday Patti-kins!!
Chapter 17
Willow lay listlessly on her bed. After only two days of nearly suffocating concern, her parents had reverted back to their usual laissez-faire attitude towards her well-being. Her mother was back in her LA office, while her father was somewhere in the middle of the Pacific en route to Japan. They hadn’t the faintest inkling of how to help their wounded daughter heal. Not that she held it against them. It wasn’t their fault that they had a briefcase where their hearts should be, and besides; how could they help her, really?
Her physical injuries were healing, but it would be a long time before the mental scars faded. Her friends had been wonderfully supportive and made sure to stop by at least once a day. Xander brought her a sweet little stuffed monkey, Joyce made sure she had her favorite chocolate chip cookies, and Oz just sat and held her hand while she cried. Only one was conspicuously absent.
William.
Not that she blamed him. She didn’t deserve to be forgiven. If their positions were reversed, she doubted she would be so forgiving either. Because of her petty jealousies, she had irreparably damaged their friendship.
She had to swallow hard to dislodge the knot of tears that clogged her throat, because in a way, their positions had been reversed.
Trey.
She had a vague memory of him fighting alongside William to get them out of the Initiative. Once they were out, there was a brief, bloody spat between him and Oz over who would be the one to carry her. William has stepped in at that point. Dragging the combatants apart, he’d left Oz to carry Willow while he dragged Trey off to the side for a little chat. She remembered staring into his anguished eyes over Oz’s shoulder, an endless moment of silent communion before the world faded to black.
Silent tears of regret rolled down her face, dripping off her trembling chin to wet the stuffed monkey’s fur. There was more than a passing temptation to resort to magic; to make some attempt to right the shambles her life had become. The notion was ruthlessly squashed. Magic was what had gotten her into this mess. Buffy had been right that day in the cave. Magic always had consequences.
Curling up on her side, she thought about Buffy; wondered where she had run off to. Xander had been full of the details, prattling endlessly about how the blonde vampire had managed to get her chip out and was no doubt lurking in the shadows, just waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in and rip all their throats out.
Willow silently lauded Buffy’s decision. Xander truly had no clue. He hadn’t been there to see Buffy fight- in spite of the chip and against incredible odds- to protect a girl who had betrayed her for the flimsiest of reasons.
All because she was William’s friend.
She was interrupted from her musings by a light tap on her door. Thinking it was the maid back to pester her about eating, she called out a slightly testy, “come in!” without bothering to turn over.
“I can come back later if you’re tired.”
Her head whipped around, eyes widening with shock to see William standing hesitantly in the doorway. She was once again battling tears as she sat up hastily. “No! Come in, Will, please,” she begged.
He looked awful. Dark circles ringed his tired eyes and his cheekbones were even more prominent than usual. William silently approached the bed and sank down wearily beside her. His whole demeanor screamed defeat, and it tore her heart out to see him this way.
This was all her fault and it was up to her to put it right.
If William had chosen that moment to look at her, he would have been more than a little alarmed to see Willow wearing her famous ‘resolve’ face. Instead, he kept his eyes on the hands clenched in his lap and began to speak.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” he muttered. “It’s… I’ve been…”
“Looking for Buffy?” Willow supplied helpfully. She reached out and tentatively brushed his fist with trembling fingers. “No sign of her?”
“None. It’s like she disappeared off the face of the earth.” Will heaved a great, gusty sigh. “The claim… I can’t feel her anymore.”
The muscles in his jaw stood out dramatically as he clenched his teeth, obviously mistaking her silence for censure. “I suppose you’re thinking the same as Xander, yeah? That she’s just waiting for her chance to kill us all? Bloody pillock! He was just fine with it when--”
“When he thought she was toothless?” Willow interrupted his rant. “Will, Xander is a big ol’ fraidy cat where Buffy is concerned. I mean she did knock him unconscious and kidnap us. Although, I have forgiven her for the whole bottle in the face thing and the ‘I’m gonna eat you!’ thing and I’m babbling so I’m just gonna shut up now, okay?”
Her fluttery, Willow-esque behavior teased a reluctant smile from him. “God knows how many times the chit has kicked him in the balls,” he added with a short bark of laughter.
Willow nodded her enthusiastic agreement with a giggle of her own. “I think he walks with a permanent limp now because of that.”
Their shared laughter wound down to an uncomfortable silence. Will leapt to his feet and began to pace a path between the French doors and her bed. She watched him pause in front of the glass doors and then make several more dizzying laps before reaching out to snag his arm in passing.
‘Sit down, Will,” she urged. To her surprise he complied, slumping down on the bed once more.
“So, what’s the verdict, Rosenburg?” He was back to avoiding her eyes. “If- no, when- I find Buffy and bring her back, are you gonna keep givin’ us grief?”
Willow gave him a sad, quirky smile, her green eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I hardly think that I’m in the position to be so judgmental anymore, do you?”
He frowned. ‘Bit different, don’t you think? You wer--”
“A completely willing participant,” she cut him off. “There was no rape, Will. He was gentle and considerate and…” She shivered, losing herself in remembered ecstasy. “Majestic,” she whispered.
William raised an eyebrow. “Majestic, huh?” he prodded. “Majestic.”
She shook herself, dragging herself back to the present with obvious effort. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Majestic.” She frowned ferociously. “Are you making fun of me, William?”
“Nope!” He stood up, holding up his hands in defense. “Just makin’ sure of things.”
To her amazement, he walked back over to the French doors and pulled them open dramatically before letting out a piercing whistle. When there was no response to his summons, he glanced back at her and rolled his eyes before stepping just outside. She could hear him talking to someone, but couldn’t make sense of the angry whispers.
“William! What are you doing? If the neighbors see you, I’ll never hear the end of it from my parents!” she hissed. “Get in here!”
She was just getting out of her bed to investigate when she heard William curse and say, ‘you heard her, Mr. Majestic, get your bloody arse in there!’, followed by a muffled thump and an indignant shout of pain before a dark-haired figure came flying through the doors and sprawled face down on her floor.
“Trey?” Willow was aghast. She reached up to rub her eyes and then looked again. He rolled over on his back and propped himself up on his elbows with a sheepish smile.
“Hey, Willow. How ya been, sugar?”
That voice. That oh-so-sexy voice that echoed with the faintest vestiges of mint juleps and mimosas. It was really him. He laid there, a hint of fearful insecurity in his golden, cat-like eyes, looking rumpled and sexy and yummy enough to eat…
And she was wearing the ugliest flannel nightgown ever made paired with fuzzy, neon green bed socks.
Willow shrieked and scrambled back into bed, diving under the shelter of the quilt where she could seethe in private. How dare William do this to her! She looked like crap! Stupid man!
Hands were pulling at the blankets over her head and she batted at them ineffectually. “Damn you, William!” She could hear his snickers and it only increased her ire. “Don’t think I won’t get even with you for this!” she ranted.
She lost the battle for the blankets and gulped as they were whipped completely off the bed to reveal her huddled form. She squinched her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands, her body stiff as a board as she lay there.
Cool fingers brushed over her still obscenely short hair and then trailed down over her flushed pink cheek with infinite gentleness. “Willow?” he cajoled sweetly. “Please, darlin’, look at me.”
Finally giving in to the inevitable, she moved her hands and opened her eyes. They stared at each other in silence for one breathless moment before she gave an inarticulate cry and flung herself into his arms.
Both were oblivious as William let himself out of the room, a sad smile on his face.
Now, if only he could find Buffy.
~*~*~
Underneath Sunnydale, the initiative was almost back to normal operations. Or what passed for normal, anyway.
Hiroto grimaced as a group of soldiers heaved their latest acquisition up on the steel table. As far as he was concerned, his transfer papers couldn’t go through fast enough. Walsh’s endless ranting over the vampire that got away was beginning to wear on even the sturdiest of nerves. The troops were out in force every night searching for her, but so far they’d had no luck. Hiroto was glad. One encounter with that vicious little minx was more than enough.
The smell of the unconscious demon was atrocious. He pulled up his mask to block some of the stench and set to work, wondering how best to cut through the thick, bony plates that covered the beast. Perhaps an acetylene torch, he mused.
Junior Holloway was minding his own business, mindlessly swishing his wet mop over the endless miles of concrete flooring. He hated almost every aspect of his job, but swabbing down the labs was the worst. The only redeeming aspect was what he learned about the beasts they brought in to experiment on. He was idly watching Hiroto work when he saw him pick up a cutting torch and try to light it.
“Uh…doc?” Junior said hesitantly. “You might not wanna--”
“Please, go away,” Hiroto told him in a lofty tone of voice. The torch flickered but didn’t ignite. He cursed it quietly and tried again. And again.
His mop handle hit the floor with a crash and Junior was high-tailing it out of the labs, his feet barely touching the floor in his haste. He barreled up the stairs to the upper level, straining desperately to get as far away from the labs as possible.
Junior knew from his eavesdropping that this particular demon’s defensive weapon was a pungent gas similar to methane that it secreted when threatened. A highly flammable gas. And Hiroto was lighting an acetylene torch to cut with…
!!KABOOM!!
The explosion knocked him right out of his army-issue boots and sent him flying out the tunnel used by the Initiative’s carpool. He pin-wheeled his arms wildly, screaming as he flew through the air and landed in a tangle of scrubby shrubbery. He lay there, stunned as more explosions rocked the earth beneath him and smoke and flames belched from the cave.
He staggered to his feet, making a hideous face as he realized that he’d shit himself out of sheer fright. Junior didn’t give a rat’s ass about his soiled trousers, though. He could only stand there and gape as the once powerful government agency imploded.
God! he thought. Could anyone live through that? All those lab technicians and surgeons, his fellow soldiers and Professor Walsh. He was sure he could hear their terrified screams above the roar of the fire and the rumble and screech of collapsing metal grid-work.
Junior plopped down on the ground, completely oblivious to his squishy, smelly pants as he sat dumbly and watched the Initiative burn.
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