She was a good girl gone bad.
Willow Rosenburg, formerly voted 'hopeless looser
most likely to die a miserable old virgin' had three men in her life. Well,
one werewolf, a vampire and a boy, but close enough. It was quite a disconcerting
state of affairs.
'What does that say about me?' Willow wondered.
Her mind, which had been quite out of sorts since she'd treated it so rudely,
immediately replied in it's best snitty voice: 'that you're too horny for
your own good?'
Willow bristled. 'You make me sound like some
wanton... wanton... person!'
'Well, how many times did you and Spike go at
it again? Hmmm?'
Far from enough, Willow thought wistfully, and
immediately blushed. She'd been lucky to escape his (oh so talented) hands
alive, and here she was, wishing that she'd been able to have more time
with him! 'I'm sick. Twisted. Just plain... bad!'
Beyond an increased appreciation for hands, and
lips, and teeth, and... well, just about everything of which the human
body was made up of, Willow had come away from her experience with Spike
with an awareness of where out of control hormones could lead.
'Bed?' that annoyingly persistent part of her
that had lead her to throwing herself at the vampire suggested. It gleefully
rubbed it's imaginary hands at the mental image of naked Oz's, and Xander's,
and Spike's. Yum.
'No! Trouble! Hormones bad. Sex bad,' Willow replied
quickly.
Annoyed, her inner sexually obsessed maniac retorted
with an image of naked Oz and Xander and Spike, all at once. And threw
in Giles and Angel for good measure.
'Hey! You don't play fair!' Willow thought, valiantly
resisting the urge to dissolve into a disgusting, if deliriously happy,
pile of drool. 'For God's sake! One near encounter with an early death,
a night with a demon lover, and suddenly I can't go more than twenty seconds
without thinking about sex! This must be what Xander feels like...'
'You want to feel Xander, do you? We can arrange
that...'
'Ack! Stop that, you! No more sex for Willow!'
There was only one thing to be done. She was breaking
up with Oz, and Xander. Because she was a bad, bad girl who couldn't be
trusted around members of the opposite sex. Pretty soon, they'd be hunting
her down to forcibly stop her reign of terror.
Willow resolutely turned on her heels and marched towards Xander's house.
***
"Xander, we have to stop doing this," Willow stated
firmly as soon as her best friend, longtime crush, and source of unending
temptation opened the door to his house. She remained planted on his doorstep
when he beckoned her to come in, realizing now what kind of trouble she
could get into should she leave the safety of the step.
Xander blinked at her blearily. "Stop waking me
up at God awful early hours of the morning?" he asked uncertainly.
"No," Willow replied. "_Kissing_. Or the next
thing you know, I'll be on my back, naked underneath you while we touch
each other and..." Willow broke off, noting the expression on Xander's
face.
'Ah! Couldn't you just screw him silly?' her sex
obsessed maniac cooed.
Willow sighed. "Go to sleep, Xander," she said
before turning around and determinately marching away.
Xander dragged his hand through his sleep mussed hair, watching the sway of Willow's hips as she stalked away. "Like I'm going to sleep now, Wills."
***
"Oz, I'm breaking up with you."
Oz blinked at her. "What was that, Willow?"
"It's for your own good, Oz. Really. I've come
to the conclusion that I can't be trusted around males. If we stay together,
I'll probably end up tearing your clothes off and locking you in my bedroom
and doing... well, stuff I shouldn't even know about to you."
Oz blinked again. "And that's bad because?"
Willow sighed. "You're a brave man, Oz, but I
can't put you at that kind of risk. I'm sorry." She swirled around, and
determinately marched away.
"Risk?"