(BtVS and all associated characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, and etc. Not me. Though I wish that weren't true. Please don't sue. Hah, rhymed. Larry's poem is by Walt Whitman and some lines are from the Buffy Episode Lie to Me.)
Chapter Seven: Secrets
Willow rushed home, dreading some protracted dinner with her parents, only to find that her parents had left for a dinner meeting with a colleague at UC Sunnydale. There was a terse note from her mother reminding her to finish her homework, and a twenty-dollar bill so she could order herself dinner. For the first time Willow found herself grateful for her parents' self absorption, for the distance that she had never understood, but long regretted. She brushed aside the sad thought and ran up upstairs to change.
Tara was waiting for her on the stoop outside of Zanja Muro, looking beautiful in a pale sundress the washed blue of a winter sky. Her hair hung free over her shoulders, and she wore an adorable pair of strappy sandals in dark indigo leather. She saw Willow and stood, smiling and waving. Willow broke into a run and didn't stop until she felt herself pulled into Tara's arms.
"Hi Tara," Willow mumbled, laying her head on the girl's shoulder, loving the feel of Tara's warm skin against her cheek.
"Hey you," Tara replied.
"You look beautiful," Willow said, taking a step back to admire Tara's dress again. Now that they were standing so close, Willow could see a pair of silver hoops in Tara's ears, and a thin silver chain supporting a teardrop bead of pale blue agate just above the swell of Tara's breasts. "So beautiful."
"You like?" Tara asked, blushing. She held out he ends of her dress and dipped in a tiny curtsy. "I found the dress and shoes on sale today in a shop downtown."
"Money well spent."
"Thanks," Tara replied. You're quite fetching too, if I may say so."
"You may." Willow said, smiling. She was wearing her black boots, a pair of black slacks, and an evergreen sweater that Willow hadn't worn since eighth grade. It was the only thing she had that would actually hug her curves. The sweater was a little too short, but she hoped Tara would enjoy the occasional flash of her midriff. She'd topped it all off with her mother's black Burberry military coat, a stylish piece that had languished in her mother's closet for years.
"Coffee?" Tara asked, linking her arm through Willow's.
As soon as they touched, she could feel the girl was trembling. "Are you okay, Tara?" Willow asked.
Tara giggled. "I d-didn't realize it was going to be so ch-chilly tonight," she admitted.
She's so adorable, Willow thought. She felt a blush burn in her cheeks. Oh my god, she realized. I like cold and shivery girls. Well, girl. I'm just as big a perv as Xander.
"Here," Willow said, sliding the Burberry off her shoulders. "I'm wearing a sweater, you take this." So I won't go to Gehenna for enjoying how shivery you are.
"I don't want to t-take your coat," Tara began.
"Please?" Willow asked. "What kind of girlfriend would I be if didn't give my coat to my girl when she's cold."
Tara nodding, smiling that crooked grin and ducking her head. The coat fit her perfectly. "Coffee now?"
"Absolutely."
Tara opened the door to the café and they were hit by a wall of sound and light. Willow blinked, startled by the large crowd of people that had gathered. Every sitting surface was taken, and people were sitting on the floors. The stage at the back of the room was glowing in an amber spotlight and a single chair had been placed downstage center. Willow felt a gentle tug on her arm as Tara took a step backward.
"Uh, W-Willow," Tara began.
"Tara," Willow replied. She was more than a little disappointed to find their favorite place so mobbed. She was about to tell Tara that they didn't have to stay, that they could try someplace else, when Jamie came dashing toward them. His hair was pink, like a big, curly pile of cotton candy.
"Hey, it's my favorite ladies!" He cried, taking Tara and Willow by the hand, and pulling them toward the doorway. "Come on, I saved your booth for you."
"J-Jamie, I d-d-d" Tara said, sounding plaintive. She closed her eyes.
"She doesn't like crowds," Willow told him. "I think we're gonna go."
Jamie stopped and fell into an immediate pout. Willow was delighted to hear Tara giggle at the sight.
"Absolutely not," he said, stomping his foot.
Tara giggled again, though Willow noticed her girlfriend's forehead was still furrowed and she was biting her lip.
"I've been waiting for days to hang out with you two," Jamie continued. " I have to live vicariously through someone's romance." He ignored Willow's chuckle. "And besides, there's a very good reason why things are so crowded. It's poetry jam night. As soon as we get started the lights will dim, all these bourgeois kids will pipe down, and you'll never even know that they're all here."
"J-Jamie..." Tara stammered.
"Not that you'd notice we were here anyway," he said. Jamie sounded prim but he was smiling broadly. "Since as soon as you sit down the two of you will be making with the goo-goo eyes."
"Jamie!" The girls exclaimed together, blushing.
"I win," he cheered, and led them into the shop.
The trio slipped carefully through the crowds of people. Willow gave out a nervous little peep when she had to dance on her tiptoes to avoid stepping on a man who shifted as she was walking by. When they reached the booth Tara slid in immediately, moving all the way to the wall. Willow started to move to the other side when Tara grabbed her arm.
"N-no," Tara said, staring at her lap. "O-over here, Will? Please?"
Willow sat down, worried about her girl, but flush with happiness. "You called me Will," she murmured.
Tara looked up and Willow could see she looked worried.
"No baby," Willow said, squeezing her hand. "I like it when you call me Will. It's cute."
"You c-called me baby," Tara replied, grinning now.
"I've done it once before," Willow said. She could feel a blush creeping up her neck.
"Nuh uh, I would've remembered."
"You were sleeping," Willow mumbled.
Tara grabbed Willow's hand in both of her own and raised it to her mouth to kiss it. "Thanks for bringing me out for coffee, Will. I really like p-poetry."
Willow grinned. "You're welcome, baby."
Green eyes were lost in blue.
"I'll just go get you two some coffee," Jamie said. The girls didn't acknowledge him and he gave a little snort as he walked away. "Already gone."
Willow stared into Tara's eyes and shivered as she felt the energy passing between their hands. A small part of her noticed Jamie talking to them, noticed him walking away, but she just couldn't pull herself away from the gaze of her beautiful girl. The noise of the café faded into a dull roar that seemed to ebb and flow like the sea. Tara's eyes had drifted half-closed, and her lips were open just a bit. Willow wanted to kiss her so badly, but she was afraid Tara would be too embarrassed in front of all of the people. At that exact moment Tara leaned forward and pressed her lips to Willow's softly. After a moment she leaned back, smiling.
"Tara?" Willow asked.
"You look so beautiful," Tara replied, cheeks pink. "Thank you."
Now it was Willow's turn to furrow her brow. "For what?"
"For distracting me with the beauty that is Willow Rosenberg. I'm glad we stayed."
The lights dimmed and the room went quiet, just a few whisperings here and there that sounded like autumn grass blowing in the wind. Willow cuddled up next to Tara and planted a quick, soft kiss against her girlfriend's lips, thrilled that they were being affectionate in public with no worry or concern.
"I'm glad we stayed too." She laid her head on Tara's shoulder.
As soon as the lights went down a slim, sandy-haired boy walked onto the stage. He cleared his throat and the mic whined a bit, making him jump.
"Well," the boy laughed. "If someone had to do that I'm just glad it was me."
The audience gave a little laugh. The boy brushed his long bangs out of his face and Willow realized he was a kid from school. She didn't know his name, but she'd seen him around campus, usually hanging out in the art room or the photography lab.
"Thanks for coming out to the annual Zanja Muro Sunset to Sunrise poetry jam. Please remember, eat drink and be merry as you watch our talented poets and performers, all proceeds from tonight will go to support the UC Sunnydale GLBT Student Union."
The crowd applauded, quite a few people cheered aloud. Next to her, Willow heard Tara give a quiet, "Yea!" She wrapped her arm around Tara's shoulder and pulled her close, smiling.
Jamie came back to the table with two steaming coffee mugs and a honey jar. "I hope you heard that, girl," Jamie told Tara, sliding the cups toward them. "Sunset to sunrise. There's no close tonight. You can stay as long as you want."
Willow felt a rush of affection for the man. No wonder he'd insisted that they stay—he knew Tara didn't usually have a safe place to spend the night, and now she could stay at Zanja.
"Thanks Jamie," Willow said, smiling. "Thank you so much."
He patted Willow's shoulder. "I'm a hopeless romantic," he sighed. "Besides, I feel terrible every time you guys have to leave at closing. You get the saddest little worry lines."
Willow rubbed her forehead with her fingertips and Jamie laughed, clapping his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound as the MC stepped off stage.
"Hummus?" He asked once he'd calmed a bit, voice just above a whisper.
Willow and Tara started nodding at the same time and giggled when they noticed the synchronization.
"Hummus for the cutest little gay girls ever, coming up." He sauntered off toward the kitchen.
"See, you are the cutest girl ever," Willow said happily.
"He said we," Tara laughed. "We're the gayest too, apparently."
"Without a doubt," Willow said firmly. "Gayest of the gay. And loving it."
Tara giggled hysterically as the first poet stepped onto the stage. He was a tall, broadly built boy with dark hair that flipped up in the front. When he turned forward to face them Willow sat up, sputtering. "Holy hell."
"W-what is it?" Tara asked.
"That is Larry Blaisdell." Tara raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "Sorry," Willow said. "He's this huge jock, a real bully, he picks on Xander all the time." She gave a little giggle now, looking back at the boy. "He likes poetry? Wait till I tell Xander…"
"Hi," Larry said softly, leaning toward the microphone. "I'm Larry. This is, uh, not my poem, but it's a poem by one of my favorite poets."
"Like he has favorite poems," Willow muttered. "He's probably going to read something from Metallica. Or a transcript from Beevis and Butthead."
"We two boys together clinging," Larry began softly. Willow's mouth dropped open.
"One the other never leaving,
Up and down the roads going, North and South excursions making,
Power enjoying, elbows stretching, fingers clutching,
Arm'd and fearless, eating, drinking, sleeping, loving.
No law less than ourselves owning, sailing, soldiering, thieving, threatening
Misers, menials, priests alarming, air breathing, water drinking,
on the turf or the sea-beach dancing,
Cities wrenching ease scorning, statutes mocking, feebleness chasing,
Fulfilling our foray."
Larry murmured a soft thank you into the microphone and stepped out of the spotlight, his head bowed. Tara began to clap and soon the rest of the audience followed-suit, even Willow clapped softly, though her mouth was still hanging open.
"That was," she began. "But Larry is—"
"He's gay," Tara said firmly.
Willow giggled and shook her head. "No, Tara, baby, Larry is—"
"Look," Tara said simply, nodding her head.
Willow looked across the room and saw Larry walking down the steps. He sat down next to the boy serving as the MC and linked arms with him, planting a kiss on the boy's cheek.
"Totally gay," she finished lamely.
Tara giggled and patted Willow on the shoulder. "Don't feel too bad, Willow. I have eh-excellent gaydar."
Willow snorted with laughter and shook her head, then suddenly sobered. "Is that like reading auras?" She whispered, voice tense with curiosity. "Can you see gay auras?"
Tara laughed so hard that the people sitting around them turned to look. Her eyes widened and she pressed her hands over her mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks as she shook with mirth.
"It wasn't that funny," Willow said, faking a pout even as she smiled.
Tara nodded her head and lifted her hands away from her mouth cautiously.
"So, so funny," she gasped. Her laughter faded away and Tara tipped her head, a small smile on her face that gave just a hint of the crooked grin Willow loved so much. "Oh rosy girl," she whispered, stroking Willow's cheek. "You make me so happy."
Willow grinned so broadly that her cheeks hurt, and her stomach gave a little flutter. She stared down at her lap; suddenly embarrassed by the blush she could feel burning in her cheeks. "I've never been happier, so it's only fair."
Tara's warm hand slipped under Willow's chin, tipping her head up so they were looking eye to eye. "No h-hiding. If I'm not allowed to hide, you c-can't either. Okay?"
"Okay."
The girls gripped hands tightly. Willow looked up at the stage and saw an older woman with shoulder-length white hair step out of the spotlight. They'd been so wrapped up in each other that another poet had come and gone and they hadn't heard a word. Willow giggled softly and wondered if they'd missed more than one. She took a sip of her coffee and it was a little tepid.
"You better drink up," she told Tara, pointing to the girl's green mug. "It's getting cold."
"Oh goddess," Tara murmured, "If Jamie came over here and found us sitting in front of full, cold cups of coffee we'd be hearing about g-goo-goo eyes forever."
They watched a few more poets, making sure to finish off their first cups of coffee before Jamie came back with the hummus. Willow settled against Tara, head leaning on her girlfriend's shoulder while they snacked on toasted pita points. Tara slipped her arms over Willow, holding her close. She was actually feeling a bit drowsy, so warm and comfortable in Tara's embrace that she was on the edge of sleep, when she heard a familiar voice.
"The world in silhouette.
Coral kiss peach kiss pearl kiss gray
Fade into the broad, gunmetal dome of the sky."
Willow sat up and stared. There was a slender black-haired woman standing at the microphone. Willow rubbed her eyes. Could it really be?
"Waning gibbous, the moon a bright white button," The woman continued.
"Hanging over my head, reflecting light
from a spectacle I will not see.
Too much life spent indoors.
Outside birds are singing."
"Wow," Willow said when the woman finished, giving a little bow as the audience applauded. "She's pretty good."
"You think sh-she's p-pretty, huh?"
Willow turned to look at Tara, the girl was grinning, one eyebrow cocked.
"No!" Willow cried, wincing when she realized how loud she'd been. "Ew no," she said more softly, taking Tara's hand. "I think you're beautiful. There's no other girl for me. She's just my computer science teacher."
"What?" Tara asked, brow furrowing.
"That's Ms. Calendar, my computer science teacher. I had no idea that she liked poetry. And if she's here, that means," Willow cranked her neck, staring around the room to see where Ms. Calendar had walked off to. "There's Giles!" Willow squealed, pointing to the far wall when the British man sat primly at a table, drinking a cup of tea.
"That's the librarian, right?" Tara asked.
"He's not just a librarian," Willow said happily. "He's Buffy's wah—" Willow broke off, eyes bulging. "Wise mentor," she finished, feeling awkward.
"Oh," Tara said, smiling at Willow's enthusiasm.
Willow felt a little stab of guilt at lying to Tara. I'm going to have to ask Buffy if I can tell her. I don't like keeping secrets.
"Are they on a date?" Tara asked, making Willow jump.
"Yeah," Willow sighed, pushing her guilt aside and settling back against Tara with a smile. "Their first one. Those crazy kids."
Tara giggled.
The girls watched as Ms. Calendar slid into the seat next to him accidentally bumping his hand with her elbow. Some tea must've slopped out of his cup because she grabbed a napkin and started dabbing at his shirt. When Ms. Calendar turned away from Giles to grab another tissue, Willow saw him smile at the brunette tenderly.
"He really likes her," Tara murmured.
"I know the feeling," Willow replied.
"Me too." Tara kissed Willow's hair.
The poetry jam continued and Willow began to feel a twinge of nervous dread in her stomach. Soon she'd have to leave Tara and go home, or she'd be late for curfew. There was enough money left from the cash her mother left to take a cab, but soon enough she would have to leave her girl all on her own. Tara had promised that she would stay at Zanja with Jamie until the sun came up, and meet her after school, but what would she do all day?
Willow thought of Tara curled up in some bathroom stall or department store dressing room, trying and failing to get any rest, and she could feel her eyes burn with unshed tears. The find-me spell was wonderful; it was brilliant, so calming to know that when they really needed to they could find each other. But it didn't change the fact that Tara needed a safe place to call home. She snuggled against her girlfriend and sighed.
"You got so quiet I thought you'd dozed off," Tara said, whispering into Willow's ear.
"Just thinking," Willow replied.
"Not h-happy thoughts," Tara said, stroking Willow's hair. It was a statement, not a question.
"Not happy thoughts," she agreed.
"What's wrong?" Tara pulled Willow more snuggly against her, her head resting on top of Willow's. When she spoke again, Willow could feel the muscles moving along her jaw line. "Worry girl is gnawing again, huh?"
Willow just nodded, afraid she would begin to cry if she spoke.
"Would it m-make you feel better to know I have a worry girl too? The last few days have been wonderful. I ha-haven't been so happy with a roof over my head since—"
"Since your mom?" Willow whispered.
Tara was quiet for a moment. When she spoke again Willow could barely hear her. "Uh huh. But I promise I'll be careful. I'll be okay."
Willow sat up and turned around, taking Tara's hands in her own. "I just wish you could stay with me."
Tara's eyes sparkled, but her smile was a sad one. "I know, me too."
Willow eyes widened and she clutched Tara's hands toward her stomach. "What if you could?"
"Huh? Willow, your parents—"
Willow took a deep breath. "What if we told them you're a foreign exchange student? I could tell them that I forgot I'd volunteered them to be a host family, they would be a little upset at me for forgetting, but in the end they'd say yes because they're education lovers and they wouldn't want to—" She broke off as Tara began to laugh. "What?"
"Willow babble, I love it," Tara said, caressing her cheek. "And you're so sweet, but are we going to tell them that I'm a foreign exchange student that traveled through time?"
It was Willow's turn to be confused. "Huh?"
"I can speak Latin, but it's a d-dead language. I read and write in Latin, ancient Greek, and a bit of Sumerian. I think they'd expect a foreign exchange student who's a luh-little less f-foreign."
"Rosenberg once again faces defeat," Willow sighed. "I think love might have broken my logic bone."
Tara giggled and the girls settled back into a comfortable embrace, Willow still wracking her mind, trying to come up with a solution for Tara. A few minutes later the MC called for a break and the lights came up. The noise in the café began to rise, but a lot of people went outside, presumably to talk or smoke, so things quieted down again pretty quickly. Willow looked over to see if she could spy Giles and Ms. Calendar, so she could walk over and say hello, but the couple wasn't in their seats.
Jamie came by with two fresh cups of coffee and hurried away with their empty cups, promising that he would stop to chat for a moment after he caught up on his tables. Willow felt Tara's breathing slow, deepen. When she looked up she smiled to see the girl was beginning to doze. Willow closed her eyes and listened to the sound of her girlfriend as she passed from waking into sleep.
"I thought I saw you, Ms. Rosenberg. How did you enjoy my poem?"
Willow gave a little squeak, it took everything in her not to sit up and jostle Tara. She opened her eyes and found Ms. Calendar smiling down at her.
"Hi Ms. Calendar," Willow replied. She swallowed, and felt a little blush creeping up her cheeks. Ms. Calendar is watching me cuddle with my girlfriend… "Your poem was great. The nature imagery contrasted with the loss and regret really starkly. It reminded me of Robert Frost. Do you like Robert Frost? He's one of my favorite poets. I know everyone loves The Road Not Taken but I've always loved Acquainted With the Night. Do you—"
"Breathe, Willow," Ms. Calendar laughed. "You're going to pass out from lack of oxygen."
Willow nodded, blushing even brighter. "Hi Ms. Calendar."
"Hello Willow." Ms. Calendar nodded her head. "Is that?"
"It's Tara," Willow said, smiling. "Hey Tara," she said softly, turning and rubbing Tara on the knee. "Wake up, sleepy head."
Tara gave a quiet protest, pulling Willow more firmly against her. Tara's hand slipped down so that it was just above the edge of Willow's bra.
Willow gave a loud, nervous laugh and felt Tara stir again. "Tara," she repeated, pleading just a little. "You have to wake up. I want you to meet somebody."
"Is the vampire back again?" Tara murmured, feeling drowsy. "I already met him."
Willow looked around and saw an elderly couple at the next table staring at them, wide-eyed.
"She always says funny stuff when she's sleepy," Willow stammered to them.
Ms. Calendar laughed loudly and Tara sat up, moving her hand down to clutch Willow's. "W-Will?" She asked softly.
"Hey you," Willow said. "Tara, this is Ms. Calendar, she's my computer science teacher at school."
"Huh-hi," Tara said, ducking her head a bit. "Willow really likes your c-class, she talks about it a lot."
"Well that's good to know," Ms. Calendar replied, smiling kindly at the shy girl. "Sometimes I think she's the one teaching me."
Don't blush, Willow thought to herself, even as she felt heat creeping up her neck. Don't blush, don't…I'm blushing. I'm going to invent a cure for blushing.
"She is really smart," Tara said proudly, nodding.
"And that's enough about me," Willow laughed nervously. "Are you and Mr. Giles having a nice time on your date?"
"Yeah," Ms. Calendar said, her smile widening. "I had him convinced for a minute that I was taking him to a monster truck rally. He was really relieved when we got here."
Willow tried to imagine Giles at a truck rally and had to resist the urge to snort. "I bet."
"Well, I better get back," Ms. Calendar said, hooking a thumb over her shoulder. "He'll think I left. It was very nice to meet you, Tara, I've heard a lot of good things about you." She took a step and then a strange look crossed her face. For a moment Willow thought she was going to sneeze, but instead she pulled small pink pager out of her pocket, it was buzzing away.
"He must really think you left," Willow said.
"No," Ms. Calendar said, frowning. "It's Buffy."
"Buffy?" Tara asked, looking between Willow and Ms. Calendar.
"Is she okay?" Willow asked. She knew Buffy wouldn't interrupt Giles' date unless something really important or really bad had happened. Or really important and bad. Oh the joy of living on the Hellmouth.
"I'm sure she's fine." Ms. Calendar smiled at them but it was forced. "I'm going to find Mr. Giles, you two enjoy the rest of the poetry jam."
"Bye," Willow said. She bit her lip as she watched Ms. Calendar walking away.
"Do you n-need to go?" Tara asked softly.
Willow turned back to face Tara, the girl was regarding her solemnly. "What? No, Tara, I don't want to leave."
"Is B-Buffy in some kind of trouble?"
Willow smiled and laid her hand on Tara's cheek. "That's my girl, always getting right to the heart of the matter." Tara blushed, but her gaze didn't wave her. "No, she's fine." Willow paused. "I think she's fine. If she could work her fingers long enough to send a page I'm sure she's fine." Willow sighed. "I don't know, Tara. I hope so."
"I k-know that Buffy is different," Tara said softly, hesitantly. Willow opened her mouth and Tara held up a hand. "She's your best friend, I'm not asking you to tell me her secrets. If she wants to t-tell me, I'll be h-happy to listen. But I can see it, her aura, it isn't…like the rest of us."
"She's special," Willow replied. "And Giles is helping her…learn."
"That's good," Tara said, nodding. "It's important to have someone who will lead you, guide you…" She trailed off. Willow could see tears welling in her eyes. "Like I had my m-mom."
"And like I have you," Willow said. She squeezed Tara's hand and the girl smiled.
"For as l-long as you w-want me."
"Forever, please," Willow replied.
The lights dimmed again and another poet stepped onto the stage. Willow wrapped her arms around Tara and buried her face in the girl's neck. Tara ran a gentle hand down Willow's hair again and again. She could feel the warmth of Tara's palm running from the crown of her head to the base of her skull. Her eyes began to ease closed as she wished that Tara still had someone to guide her, that she didn't have to bear the burden all on her own. A mentor. The answer lanced through Willow like a bolt of lightning, though she didn't stir out of Tara's embrace. A mentor. Giles was Buffy's watcher, but he was a mentor to them all, even Xander.
"Tara?" Willow asked softly.
"Yeah?" Her voice was faint, sleepy.
"You're going to meet me after school tomorrow, right?"
"Mm hmm, I promise."
"Good." Tomorrow, after school, Willow would introduce Tara to the watcher. If anyone could help them, it was Giles.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Willow tossed and turned all night, thinking about Tara back at Zanja Muro. She got up in the morning groggy and sore, and forced herself to get up even though she just wanted to lie in bed until school was done and it was time to go see her girl. A long stretch in a hot shower helped with her aches but she was still feeling pretty tired. She decided the only course of action would be to wear her sweater from the night before, because it had just a hint of the honeysuckle glory that was Tara. Brick red jeans and her red beaded necklace completed the ensemble and she went downstairs for breakfast.
I hope I'm not coming down with something, Willow thought a few minutes later, staring down into her completely unappetizing bowl of oatmeal. Who am I kidding? I have a terrible case of 'I miss Tara'.
"Penny for your thoughts, bubbala."
Willow gave a little jump. Her father was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, holding a cup of coffee in his hand.
"Hi Daddy," Willow said softly, toying at her breakfast, thinking she should've stopped with the toast.
"You okay?" He asked, rubbing the top of his balding head. Over the years Willow had learned that this gesture meant two things: I'm nervous already and don't make it worse.
"I'm fine, a little tired." She dropped her spoon down in her bowl.
"You have to head out soon if you're going to catch the bus, huh?" He asked kindly, taking a sip of coffee. Willow sighed and nodded. "Tell you what," he said. "Why don't I give you a ride in today? Then you won't have to rush."
"Thanks, Dad," Willow replied.
"Absolutely," he said, walking by and patting her gently on the shoulder.
Willow went to the kitchen to rinse her bowl and then zoned on the couch until her father was ready to go. On the ride there he talked to her about the next conference he'd be attending with her mother, and wondered where he'd forgotten his sunglasses. She reminded him gently that they were on top of his head. As soon as she stepped out of the car in the school parking lot, Xander was hovering next to her, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
"Hey Xander," Will said, waving to her father as he drove off. Xander didn't reply—he was too busy biting his lip, staring around the campus. "Xander, what's wrong with you?"
"I think Angel told Buffy," he said in a hiss.
"Told Buffy what?" Willow's eyes widened as she felt a little spear of dread. "You mean told her that we were snooping around behind her back for information on Ford? Well, not snooping," she murmured to herself. "Investigating. Without telling her." Willow grimaced. "Why? Why would Angel do that?"
"Well, Dead Boy was pretty upset by what we found last night," Xander said venomously, face twisted in a scowl.
"What did you find?"
Xander shrugged and his face relaxed a bit. "It was pretty creepy, actually. The Sunset Club is a hangout for Goths who are obsessed with vampires." He waved his hands around. "They think vamps are all tragic, cool, and misunderstood. They call them the lonely ones," he finished with a snort.
"Okay, that's an odd place for a friend of the vampire slayer to hang out." Willow agreed. "But is it worth telling Buffy about?"
"Maybe that wouldn't be, but Will," Xander said, a hint of urgency creeping into his voice. "These folks, I think they want to be changed. Angel got all freaked up and blew up at some girl and everybody stopped talking." He continued, voice small. "Yeah, it really freaked Dead Boy out."
"Sounds like he wasn't the only one who was freaked."
Xander just shrugged.
"So, what should we do?" Willow asked. She could feel acid churning in her stomach.
"Keep an eye out for her I guess," Xander replied. "Try to explain."
"Oh goodie," Willow sighed. "Avoidance isn't an option then?"
"I think creep factor has wiped it right off the table." Xander said, wrapping an arm over Willow's shoulder and walking toward the school building.
"Doesn't it always?" Willow asked.
They walked into the main hall and sat down on the stairs. It was the main thoroughfare, so sooner or later Buffy would have to come by. Five minutes before the bell rang for first period there was still no sign of Buffy. Willow was about to tell Xander they would have to wait for later when the slayer stalked down the steps past them. Willow realized Buffy was going to walk by without saying a word.
"Buffy!" She said, standing up on the stairs.
Buffy turned toward Willow slowly, unsmiling. Willow wished for a moment that she'd just let her keep walking. She wondered how many places she would get broken if Buffy decided to hit her.
"Did uh, Angel…" Willow began nervously.
"He told me everything," Buffy said tonelessly.
"I'm sorry we kept stuff from you," Willow said earnestly.
"It's okay," Buffy replied.
Willow could see it wasn't okay at all. "When Angel came to my house he was just really concerned for you," she said, hoping Buffy would understand. "And we didn't want to say anything in case we were wrong."
Buffy just stared at her. Willow was grateful when Xander broke the silence. "Did you find out what Ford is up to?"
"I will," Buffy replied. Without another word she turned and continued off down the stairs.
"Guess that's us not invited then," Willow said sadly.
Xander shifted on the stairs. "I'll tell Angel. We'll keep an eye out for her tonight."
Willow blinked. "You're going to voluntarily talk to Angel?"
"It's like you said, Will. Dead Boy wasn't the only one freaked out."
