It started with a look.

Not one of longing or understanding or kinship. It was a look borne by curiosity. It was borne from a place that wondered and puzzled and was just a tiny bit sad. It was a look that said 'who is this girl and why does she hide?'

Willow had given up on the so-called Wiccan group after that day. The only one who held any promise was the shy blonde who tried to melt into the carpeting which wasn't very encouraging at all. So Willow was resigned to fall back into what she did best: read and experiment and hope she didn't blow up the chem lab…again.

In a way she was almost glad for the arrival of the Gentlemen. Not the turn everyone mute, cut out their hearts, and generally creep the bejeebus out of people that they did, but for the group Scoobyage. The being useful and working together to save the day. Granted, her usefulness went only so far as she could research and the keyword search for "fairytale" that she'd set up to scour the net only ensured that she would never watch another Disney movie without shuddering again.

The sudden knocking on the door surprised her. It sounded violent and frantic in the otherwise silence of the last few days. Curiosity overrun caution, a dangerous happening in a town like Sunnydale, and Willow had opened the door. And then there was the collision, the look of surprise and terror, the recognition of the monster, and the fierce instinctual protectiveness Willow felt for the girl (and the girl for her).

Only after, collapsed on the laundry room floor, hands clasped together, was there a look of understanding and kinship and fear.

(The longing came later, powerfully and without warning.)