Summary: Well, I hated how hurt Willow seemed in Bad Girls, so I decided
to fix that. :)
Spoilers: Through Bad Girls
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, no matter how much I wish they
were. < sigh > They belong to Joss Whedon and the WB I have to live
with borrowing them for my stories.
Rating: Completely innocent. < g >
Author's Note: "Friends without love and trust in their midst are nothing
more than glorified acquaintances." (I'm not sure who said that, but I heard
it a long time ago, and remembered it, and it seemed to fit. :) ) So this
is for the wonderful friends I've made online and over the internet. You
guys are special.
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Anytime
by: Amy
Willow wandered slowly through the Bronze, looking for someone who cared. Or someone she knew. After ordering a Pepsi from the counter, she finally spotted Xander talking to a girl on one of the couches. She smiled to herself. Xander would always have time for her.
Dodging around the various tables and chairs, she made her way over to him and sat down on the couch. The girl he was talking to looked at her expectantly, and Willow smiled weakly, waiting for Xander to introduce them. Xander turned and saw her.
"Oh! Uh, hey. Um, Danielle, this is Willow." Danielle nodded coolly and Willow couldn't help admiring how poised she was. Danielle turned back to Xander.
"So, a Sprite? I'll get it, and let you and your friend Wyleen talk." She said, throwing a gracious little smile to Willow.
"Willow," she and Xander corrected at the same time.
Danielle lifted her shoulders slightly. "Well, it was nice meeting you." Turning back to Xander, she murmured, "I'll be back in a few. Don't leave." He grinned.
"It was nice meeting you, too," Willow called as Danielle got up. Willow bit back the childish impulse to call her Diane. Xander stared after her until the crowd swallowed her and then looked at Willow.
"Isn't she great? You know, I never realized how not talking could make more people like me." He furrowed his brow. "I mean...."
Willow sighed. "I know what you mean, Xander." She took a quick gulp from her cup. "Look, I'm going to go, okay? I didn't mean to intrude on you and your new friend." To Willow's dismay, Xander nodded gratefully. Shooting him a look of disgust-- Couldn't he see she wanted him to talk her out of leaving?-- she got up and walked out.
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After an hour of walking around the quiet, too quiet, streets of Sunnydale, Willow noticed it was getting dark and new she would have to get in before the sun set. She sighed, realizing that she wouldn't make it home in time and that Buffy's house was two doors away. < And Buffy doesn't want me anymore. >
Stinging tears came into her eyes and she blinked them away, sniffling. She knocked on the Summers' door and waited. She didn't like begging for rides, but it was safer than walking all the way home in the dark of Sunnydale.
Joyce answered the door, concern plastered over her face. "Willow! I'm so glad you're here. Buffy has barely come out of her room in two days. She says she's sick, but I don't believe her. She sits in her window, crying. She's even refused a call from Angel," Joyce spoke in one breath. Willow's face puckered in worry.
"And since you're her best friend," Joyce continued, "maybe she'll let you in."
Willow looked up, barely hiding her tears. "Well, have you, umm, called Faith? She and Buffy have been hanging out together a lot." < Too much. > Joyce shook her head, putting her arm around Willow's shoulders and leading her to the bottom of the stairs.
"*You're* her best friend. I like Faith and I like that she helps Buffy, but no matter how much time they are spending together or how much they relate, Buffy depends on you." She looked up the dark stairway, a frown marring her features. "I would appreciate it a lot."
Willow slowly nodded, not believing Joyce's words, but wanting to help. "Of course. Anything for Buffy." She climbed the stairs. The dark hallway seemed to reach out and fill her with trepidation. She got to Buffy's room, and after silence answered her short knock, she entered.
Buffy was sitting on her windowseat, looking out at the darkened sky. "Mom, I already told you. I'm fine." She looked up and managed a shaky smile before realized that Willow was staring at her. "Oh... Willow," she murmured vaguely. "Hey."
Willow walked over to her and sat down. A troubled look came over her face as she realized that she had never seen Buffy look so bad. Her hair was unwashed and greasy, and her clothes had stains on them. She looked like she had lost weight, too. Willow took her hand gingerly.
"Buffy. Tell me what's wrong," she pleaded, her voice almost shrill. Buffy's eyes met hers and the Slayer absently held Willow's hand in a tighter grip.
And then Buffy broke.
She leaned forward, nestling her face on Willow's shoulder as she sobbed. Willow's own tears came then, too. Relief and sadness washed over her at the same time as she cried with her best friend. Relief at knowing she was needed and loved. Sadness at Buffy's tears and all Willow had thought she had lost only a few moments ago. Willow's arms wound themselves around Buffy's shaking shoulders and she murmured soothing things into the stillness of the room.
She couldn't make out what her friend was saying, but she hugged her friend tighter and let her weep. Years went by in that hug. Willow remembered the moment she had met Buffy, how she had finally known, somewhere deep down, that she would be accepted for who she was. At last.
At length, the Slayer quieted and calmed. Lifting her head to look at Willow with a tear-streaked face, she smiled tremulously. "Willow," she murmured, tears breaking her voice, "Thanks. You're the best friend anyone could ask for. Better than I deserve." Willow's tears came faster, spilling over her cheeks and dripping off her chin. Buffy looked startled at her reaction.
"Anytime. Thanks, Buffy. I'm glad I could help." Buffy nodded seriously.
"You did," she whispered.
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Hours later, Willow woke up with a start. They had talked until four am before finally succumbing to sleep. About fears and mistakes, jokes and memories. Willow had sighed in relief at the look Buffy had given her when Willow revealed that she was afraid she was being replaced. It was a look that had said that there was no possible way of that ever happening. Buffy had cried some more when she told Willow about what Faith had done, and how she couldn't stop it.
Willow looked down at her friend, curled up in the covers with only her face and one hand sticking out. Her face held a contented smile and her hand held Willow's. Willow grinned softly.
"Anytime," she murmured again before falling back into sleep. Their hands remained together throughout the night.
The End