Rendezvous with a Ghost - A Voice


She didn't know what woke her.

The last traces of her dream skittered out of reach, dispersing like a cloud of breath into the cool air of the dark bedroom. Blinking her sleepy eyes into focus, Willow stretched and turned over in the bed, her gaze falling over the peaceful features of the girl who snuggled into the pillows across from her. A contented smile pulled at the edge of her mouth as she just watched her girlfriend sleeping, so sweetly, in the silent night. Willow fully recognised how lucky she was to wake up to such a wonderful person, who loved her so much, every day. Yet she could never underestimate the importance of these quiet and solid moments in making her appreciate what they had all the more.

Reaching out, she traced the soft golden tresses that framed the face before her in a light caress. Relieved when Tara didn't stir at the brief touch, Willow carefully withdrew and shifted away, slipping quietly out of the bed. She didn't want to wake her. It must be a horribly unsociable hour and heaven knew they all had precious few uninterrupted nights with the constant chaos of their lives. So the restless witch let her love sleep on as she clicked the door shut softly behind her.

The short hall that connected their bedroom to the rest of their small apartment was chilly in the early morning. Shivering, Willow rubbed her bare arms as she wandered through to the kitchen to get a glass of water. She didn't bother turning on the lights, there was enough ambient light coming through the windows that she could see well enough. Besides, she didn't want to risk disturbing Tara.

Pulling her legs into her chest, Willow curled up on the sofa, nursing the icy glass between her hands. Her busy mind bounced along various tracks of thought, unable to settle down on a single rail. Feeling cold again, she pulled an old jumper of Tara's out from the side of the sofa cushions and slipped it on.

Some time later, a frown settled over the redhead as a buzzing sound pushed into her thoughts. It seemed to come and go in regular intervals, and it was really quite annoying. Getting up, she set off in search of the disturbance. She quickly discovered it was coming from her bag, which she had left dropped on the floor, along with a faint flashing purple light. Oh, right. Fumbling, Willow quickly dug out her vibrating cell phone, feeling a little foolish and blaming her slowness on her sleep-fogged brain. She didn't recognise the number that flashed up, and anxiousness stirred behind her sleepiness. Please let everyone be okay, she begged silently, though she couldn't think of any good reason why a person would call in the middle of the night.

"Hello?"

There was a long second of pause, during which her panic gained momentum. What had happened? Was it Dawn? Oh god, Buffy...

"Willow?"

She nearly dropped the phone. The last vestiges of sleep sharply fled from her mind and body, which now felt like it had just been doused in buckets of freezing water. Words failed her, her eyes grew wide and her heart shocked to a stand still in her chest – all in the sound of the one voice she could never forget and would recognise anywhere. The same voice she heard in the dreams she wouldn't let herself remember, that whispered in warm breath across the back of her neck in that tantalizing moment between sleep and the waking world. The sweetest music in her world.

"You're okay."

The frozen girl barely heard what came next. Her head was still echoing with the sound of her own name, spoken from his lips. The word had never sounded so painfully beautiful. She had always loved the way he said her name. Soft and intimate somehow, like it was a secret they shared, only for them. How many times had she wished and begged to hear his voice, just to be given months and years of cold silence in return. Why now? What was he trying to do to her? The part of her head still functioning rationally warned her frantically to hang up, but the intoxicating sound of his voice pulled her deeper. Still so mellow, rich with private depths and slightly rough with the late hour of the night. Against every better judgement, she felt herself slipping. She had waited so long...

"O-Oz."

There it was. The name that had hovered on the tip of her tongue uncountable times, that ghosted through her every thought. The one she had shoved away behind that deadlock along with every other tortured memory that belonged to him. The word barely made it out of her tight throat and it sounded cracked and fragile to her ears, dusty from so long unspoken.

There was quiet at the other end of the line, and for a moment Willow could see him. Memory and thought sharpened into perfect picture – those bright, bright eyes closed to the world as he contemplated his next words, features set in that calm mask of pensive thought, sculptured hand maybe pulling at the edges of messily cropped hair. Sharply, Willow yanked herself away from the dangerous images. Reaching behind her, her fingers groped for the solid safety of the wall. When his words did come, they were not what she could have expected.

"I'm sorry."

Willow raised her eyebrows. Sorry? For what exactly? For calling? For never calling? For leaving? For trying to eat her girlfriend? For tearing her only heart out? There was a tired sigh through the phone and she instinctively closed her eyes, feeling a faint shiver run through her. She couldn't get the emotions to stop ricocheting around her head long enough for her to survey the damage.

"How - how did you get this number?" Her tone probably came across more accusing than she intended. Honestly, she was just bewildered and that was the only feeling she could begin to put into words. There was a pause, before his voice floated back through to her, a touch of dry amusement in his response.

"Asked the girl who hacked the Pentagon."

She nearly laughed, despite herself. Leaning her head back against the wall, she let the smile linger on her lips. Willow found she couldn't bring herself to feel indignant or angry. Somehow it didn't feel like an intrusion, not from Oz. Yet the big question soon pushed its way to the front of her mind again. Her thoughts quickly sobered as she murmured the single, loaded word.

"Why?"

There was silence for a heartbeat, and Willow pressed the phone tighter against her ear, trying to catch every quiet breath at the other end of the line. Finally, he answered. "Couldn't sleep." Well that was ironic. There was a small sigh before he continued. "I've been getting this feeling. Like something really wrong is going to happen to you guys." He hesitated before adding in a pained whisper, "to you."

He sounded uncharacteristically awkward, strangely uncertain. Willow listened carefully, unsure how to feel about what he'd just said. She frowned. "You mean like we're in danger?" A gentle note of teasing crept into her voice. "Oz, you do remember what our lives are like, right?"

Mutant Frankensteins, giant snakes, vengeful Hell Gods – to name but a few.

There was a soft laugh in her ear, which pulled a light grin from her lips in return. "Yeah, I remember." There was beat and then his voice seemed to drop away, and she found she had to strain to hear him. "But this, I don't know. This scares me, Will."

He couldn't explain it. Willow – consumed in agony and darkness. Pitch black dreams, desperate howls of despair ripping him apart inside, air collapsing in his lungs... He woke up each time feeling like he had just lived through his own death.

Willow's eyes dropped to the floor as she took in his admission. A fierce ache flared in her chest, causing her to grimace for a second as she waited for it to subside once more. She felt like she should reassure. "Well, I'm okay. See, still breathing and everything."

Just about. Swallowing down the weight of emotions in her throat, she let her gaze wander to the gap of velvet sky that peeked though a break in the curtains. She briefly wondered if somewhere out there, wherever that place was at the other end of the phone, maybe he was watching the same sparkling night stars.

No. Clamping her jaw tight, she backed hastily away from destructive old habits. She had gone through so much to put them behind her, she couldn't fall victim again just because of this damn fluke. He had no right to do this. To try and open this door again. She curled her free hand into a fist at her side, tightening until she felt the sharp bite of her nails cutting into her palm. He couldn't have it both ways!

She couldn't have it both ways.

His voice slipped in amongst the haze of conflicting emotions. Hauntingly familiar, warm, tempting...

"Breathing is always good."

There was the sound of mutual hesitation, both parties knowing they had to end it but each reluctant to pull away. Willow had never let a silence go on so long, but it was his silence, and it felt wrong to break it. Finally, the low melodic notes of his voice caressed her ear once more, with careful words that felt to crack slightly on impact.

"I just want you to be happy, Willow. That's all that I want."

Moisture burned behind her eyes as the small redhead pulled trembling fingers through her hair, fighting with the harsh laugh in her throat. He had a funny way of showing it.

"Well, I am."

The curt answer shot through the line like a bullet. Willow bit back the reflex apology. She couldn't worry about hurting him, she had to protect herself. She had a terrifying feeling the walls of her defences were already groaning under the surprise assault on her entombed emotions. Besides, she wasn't saying anything that wasn't true. She had an amazing family of great friends, a worthy purpose in fighting for the world, a wonderful girlfriend who she loved with all her heart. One call from the forgotten past, one conversation with her ex-boyfriend, who was probably half-way around the world, wasn't any kind of threat to her current life. Feeling bad, her voice softened. "You don't need to worry about me, Oz. Really."

She didn't know why he still did. Why he still cared like this, when they had hurt each other so much. When there was no way they could be together anymore, when their time had passed and moved on. Her eyes flickered to the dark hall. The pull from the bedroom beyond tugged against the forbidden urge to keep his elusive voice next to her for a few more precious moments. Her whispered conversation suddenly seemed to pierce through the silent apartment, screaming her betrayal. The illicit secret she was taking part in here – in the home she had made together with Tara. Wrapped up in her girlfriend's jumper, talking to the only other one she had ever loved. Guilt crashed against her lungs with such a sickening blow, it left her breathless. What was she doing?

"Will-"

"I have to go."

She cut off the painful lure of his voice, not trusting herself to let it soak in for another second. Her knuckles turned white around the phone. She shut her eyes and forced the barely whispered words from her lips.

"Tara might wake up."

She heard the catch in his breath. Or maybe she just imagined it. Dead silence echoed through the connection. She knew how she made it sound, and that was how it needed to be. A simple statement that bluntly reconfirmed to them both how it was. Where her love lay, who her life was with, what her choice was. As if they could ever forget.

"I'm sorry," he repeated slowly, voice as flat and detached as she could ever remember. She had stung him badly, she had to. This could never happen again. "I shouldn't have called," he said almost in an afterthought, more to himself than her. An undercurrent of deep and genuine regret thundered quietly under the words, deaf to all but the trained listener. Willow pushed the aching pain away from her voice, filling her head with images of the sweet face of the girl in the next room. Of everything she meant to her. Everything she wouldn't risk for an empty echo of a love long over.

"No. You shouldn't have."

In a jerky movement, she forced herself to end the call and dropped her arm, letting the phone fall away from her ear. Drawing in a sharp, unsteady breath, Willow finally opened her eyes to stare up at the ceiling. It already didn't feel real. His voice just a taunting trick from her own memory. Her chest fluttered with uneven breaths, her vision blurring with hot tears. She could have asked him where he was, what he was doing. Willow shook her head in bitter resolve, making her red locks tangle against the wall behind her. She'd already gone too far in that dangerous indulgence. His presence was too addictive. She already missed his voice. If she let him linger any longer she would want to hear it again, see his face... It was a slippery slope.

She barely resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall. It wasn't supposed to be like this! She didn't love him anymore! That was all finished and over a long time ago. She had moved on. Why couldn't he leave her alone to be happy without him? And why the hell did she still... miss him so much? Willow couldn't understand any of it.

A blinding pain suddenly splintered through her ribcage with unforgiving force. Screwing her face up with a gasp, she pressed a hand tight against her chest as somewhere deep inside, the deadlock shuddered violently. Fisting her hand into the warm cotton of Tara's pastel blue jumper, Willow slid down the wall to drop on the carpet with a soft thud. Her shoulders heaved with muffled sobs, as brimming tears finally broke free and poured down her cheeks. She wrapped an arm around her legs and buried her head into her knees, small silver cell phone still clasped tightly in her fist.

~o~