Darts and Revelations

Buffy blinked several times, her mind trying to adapt to the scene before her. Willow, Ol' Reliable, recovering magick addict, shy hacker, was playing darts with a demon. In a bar. And though she prayed it was only Coke, something about the way Willow drained the glass and lifted it for another told Buffy that it was more than just soda.

But enough with the gawking. Buffy ignored the mass exodus her presence caused and made straight for the redhead. She was so dead. The demon next to Willow had only begun to turn his head toward the commotion when he was shoved unceremoniously into a table. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but Willow didn't seem at all surprised. She turned deliberately from the dart board, like an actor on stage.

"Hello, Buffy." If Buffy hadn't been livid, she would have taken a startled step back. Not a hint of slur in Willow's voice. If anything, it seemed more solid than it had since she'd come back from England, more confident, almost challenging. Buffy squinted, and maybe it was the dim lights of Willy's bar but the emerald eyes seemed to glint slightly black. Then again...

"Have I missed curfew? I tried to keep track of time, but you know how it is." Willow grinned, not maliciously but carelessly. "Plus, these drinks are fantastic." She tilted back her empty glass and chewed absently on the ice.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Dawn is freaking out, then Willy calls and says you're here of all places. It's three in the goddamn morning!" Buffy clenched her hands, fighting the urge to punch something. Someone. "Willow! Put the glass down, we're going home." Buffy attempted to grab it out of Willow's hand, but slayer reflexes were no match for the resolved redhead.

"Hey!" Willow twisted out of reach. "I'm owed one more. Then we can go. Plus," she wiggled a dart in front of Buffy's face, "I'm winning."

Buffy's mouth opened and shut uselessly. She was more than aware of the few demons left, alternating their stares between Buffy and Willow, wondering how the slayer would react to such brazenness. But this was her best friend. "Fine, you know what? You can finish the game but then I'm dragging your ass out of here. Willow?" But she had already focused back on the board, coaxing her reluctant partner to join. The demon shot a quick, fearful glance at Buffy but accepted the darts Willow shoved in his hand. That's odd, Buffy thought as his shaking hands missed the first shot. I guess I don't incite as much fear as I thought. Time to fix that.

Willy all but disappeared behind the bar as Buffy marched toward him. In one fluid motion she grabbed his collar and splayed him on the counter, ignoring the glasses that crashed to the ground. "What is she doing here?" She squeezed the question through her gritted teeth, trying hard to remember that he wasn't technically to blame.

"Woah, look, I called you didn't I? Calm down. Please?" His face exhibited more than enough fear to reassure Buffy that she hadn't lost her touch. "I swear, I don't want her here any more than you."

"Why did she come here at all? Why'd you even serve her?" Buffy frowned suddenly. "And since when did you start serving normal drinks?"

"Okay, first could I maybe sit up? I think there's some glass in my back." Willy groaned as Buffy reluctantly released her grip. "God. That's going to hurt in the morning." Seeing the impatient look on the slayer's face, he got to the point. "I didn't used carry human drinks till she started coming around, and since she only drinks rum 'n cokes I figured it was worth the investment."

Speechlesness was fast becoming Buffy's most familiar feeling. Willy winced as he saw the emotions play on her face. "Sorry, I didn't really think you'd mind. But this is the first she's stayed so late, and some of the regulars started to complain about her hustling them, and... like I said, I'm sorry." He braced himself.

"Hustling?" Buffy managed vaguely. Her mind was reeling. Odd how she could handle a giant snake for a mayor but the thought of Willow as a drunk was unthinkable. How long had it been like this? Somewhere her mind told her it made sense: it didn't take much for Willow to get addicted to magicks, and most addicts only replace one habit with another. Still, though. This was Willow. She'd seen first hand what drinking had done to Xander's parents. She'd learned how to control herself since Tara's death. Right?

"Wait," Buffy interrupted Willy's excuses, "she doesn't drink a lot, right? It's just a bit of rebellion, or kicking back, or--." Buffy reigned in her questions. A slayer didn't express her doubts. She acted. "How often does Willow come here?"

He shrank expectantly. "Three, four times a week?"

She nodded. It was to be expected. Dawn said Willow often came back at midnight, risking night for whatever it was she did after dinner. Well. Now they knew. "And how much does she drink?"

"She has a standing order for six rum 'n cokes. She never asks for more, and rarely drinks less." Willy gulped, summoning his courage. "If I'd have known you didn't know, I would've never agreed. I swear."

"Agreed to what?" Buffy's head turned sharply away from the dartboard and Willow's third bullseye. She actually wasn't bad. "What happened?"

If Willy had been scared before, this was a whole new brand of fear. "Look, I kinda promised I wouldn't tell anyone. I don't want any trouble."

The sight of Willy sailing into the beverage display was enough to send a few more demons out the door. Willow quickly manifested by Buffy's side and stepped between her and bartender. Buffy cracked her knuckles. That was cathartic.

"Buffy!" Willow's voice broke her from thoughts of more violence. "What are you doing? Can you at least pretend to control yourself?"

Buffy scoffed. "Control myself? You gotta be kidding, Will. In case you haven't noticed, you're the one getting drunk and chummy in a demon bar. And for what? We've done so much to make you feel like you're back home, then you turn and--" Suddenly her mouth shut of its own accord. Buffy tried in vain to open it, to even squeeze her tongue between her teeth, but it was as if her mouth was...glued...Buffy's eyes widened at Willow, anger succumbing to a slowly spreading fear. Willow was using magicks again.

Willow nodded. "Yes, alright? It takes a few drinks to get back in the mood, but when I do I control myself." She paused, focusing on Willy at their feet. "Sorry, I guess. We're leaving." She looked at the now dismal display. "And I'll pay for that. Come on, Buff."

She began protesting, but quickly realized it was useless. Silently they stepped out into the unseasonably cool air. Only after they turned the corner did Willow begin to speak. "Buffy, I'm sorry. About the mouth thing, not about drinking or the magicks. It's just...would you understand if I told you I could never be the Willow you once knew?" She laughed gently to herself. "I thought about changing my name for while, but I suppose I've been a tree for too long. I mean, there's the obvious Phoenix but it's already taken."

In her imposed silence, Buffy could only grow worried. Alcohol and the dark arts didn't seem like a winning combination, especially when the vessel they combined in was intelligent and powerful. Did Giles know? She heard somewhere they drink a lot more in England. And to think, with Dawn alone in the house...

"Oh, don't worry about that." Willow gave Buffy a hesitant smile. "I put up wards. Sometimes, if I drink too much, even I have trouble getting back into the house." Buffy hardened her frown. "Whoops. Also, yeah, I can selectively read thoughts. Nifty, huh?"

Without a verbal outlet, Buffy resorted to punching a dumpster. Willow sighed at the visible dent and the slayer's scraped knuckles. "I guess I have a lot of explaining to do." They resumed walking, Buffy slightly more calm. "In England, it became pretty obvious that I couldn't give up magick altogether. But I was terrified of even the little spells. Remember when I used to twirl pencils?" Buffy nodded. "Yeah, well I didn't even want to do that. Turns out, though, that alcohol is terrific at lowering inhibitions. Who knew, right?"

Buffy didn't need to nod. She remembered all too well going one million years BC.

"So it became a regular thing. A few drinks before spell casting and I loosened right up. It was only supposed to be temporary, but... I don't know. I think I enjoyed it too much. Giles knew I drank, but not how often." She suddenly looked at Buffy. "Oh, sorry, I forgot."

Buffy's mouth popped open unexpectedly. "God, Will, you could warn a person." She rubbed her jaw for a moment, thoughtful. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Willow refused to meet her eyes. "I knew you had a lot to deal with, and I wasn't sure you'd understand."

"Well, guess I proved you right." Buffy sighed.

"It's not like I didn't tell anyone. Xander knew." Willow looked vacantly down the street. "He didn't like it, but he knew."

They walked in silence for a few blocks, each lost in their own thoughts. Willow clearly knew the way by memory, and before they were ready they'd reached the house. Buffy stopped Willow as she reached for the doorknob. "Wait."

Willow steeled herself for a lecture. "Buff, I'm sorry, okay?"

"No, no," Buffy waved away her concerns, "I'm wondering what happened with Willy. What did you do to him?"

"Oh, come on. You know he's not that hard to intimidate." Buffy stared her down. "Fine. I showed up one night, slightly drunk, and you know how it feels to just wait for someone to cross you?"

Buffy hesitated. "I suppose I could imagine, hypothetically." She cleared her throat. "I mean, yeah, I've felt that way."

"Right. Well, let's just say a few well-placed darts got me free drinks for life." She frowned. "Which may not be all that long, depending on what you tell Dawn about tonight."

Buffy smiled for the first time that night. "Tell you what, you get to do the explaining."

Willow grimaced. "Gee, thanks."

My first fanfic, so I'd appreciate any and all tips and criticisms. Thanks for reading. Oh, and I don't own BtVS characters. Yup.