A/N: Probably continuing this AU into another work.
Willow had fallen back into a hazy sleep after Buffy had left the first time, presumably to tell Giles and Ms. Calendar where she was going, but the smack of the library doors announcing Buffy's official departure startled her back to consciousness. Suddenly wide awake, Willow considered dragging herself off the stairs and into Giles's office, but thought better of it. It wasn't like they'd leave her there and just go home, she reasoned, and she felt a little funny about just barging in on the two of them. They'd had a lot to work out, with plenty of water under that bridge.
So Willow sat up a little but hunched over herself, essentially folding her body like a pretzel as the events of the night before roared back. The vicious fight in the hall, made worse by the shadows and the darkness that contrasted with the very clear picture in Willow's mind of Angelus's hands tight on Jenny's neck. The race to the library, the gamble that the spell would keep Angelus out. Sitting in the dark and holding Ms. Calendar's hand and trying to be comforting and calm when she'd really just felt scared out of her mind. Willow had the feeling somehow that Ms. Calendar had felt the same way.
Willow laid her head on her knees, deep in thought. She had a lot of time to herself, especially at home, so she was used to sifting through her thoughts and putting words to how exactly she was feeling. But so many feelings had accompanied the events of the last day, or even the last month, that even Willow was having a hard time making sense of it all.
Willow didn't do anger particularly well. She didn't like bullies or injustice or rudeness, but she had trouble with anger that didn't connect with any of those things. But she did love pretty well. She loved Xander even though he couldn't possibly love her back the way she had longed for for so long. She loved Buffy, her best friend, her protector. She was starting to think that she could love Oz. She even loved Giles, in a non-weird sort of way, for being so unflappable and kind and not really minding when they all crashed in the library or interrupted Giles's reading. Or his lecturing. Or his dating.
And Willow loved Ms. Calendar. She'd downplayed it a bit with Buffy during their sleepover-like confessional, but Willow loved Ms. Calendar in the same admiring way that she loved Giles. Ms. Calendar wasn't her best friend or her big sister or her mother, but she was someone to Willow, someone important. She was cool enough and reasonable enough that most of the kids respected her, even the ones who took computer science expecting to play games all period. And that might have been enough for Willow to simply have good thoughts toward Ms. Calendar, but then there was everything else, too. Ms. Calendar seemed to be genuinely interested in Willow's extra credit projects or particularly complicated code that she'd included in assignments and she wasn't shy about giving Willow a friendly smile or encouraging praise. And that might have been enough to elevate Ms. Calendar to the top of Willow's favorite teacher list, perhaps landing just under a certain librarian - ugh, Willow cringed at her own euphemism - if it wasn't for the Scooby stuff.
Ms. Calendar had pulled her out of the Hellmouth, for starters, during the whole deal with the Master last spring. And Willow wouldn't have blamed her if she'd hightailed it to another school after that entire mess; who really would want to teach in Sunnydale after learning all about its seedy underbelly? Willow knew now that Angel likely had the most to do with Ms. Calendar's return that fall, but she also knew that it wasn't nearly the whole story. Ms. Calendar had just...fit. She made Giles smile in a way that Willow had never seen. And like she'd pointed out to Buffy, Ms. Calendar had taken whatever was thrown at them - Spike and Druscilla and Eygon and Frankenstein football players and the Master's resurrection and the Judge - and just buckled down and gotten to work like everyone else. She hadn't acted like a spy, Willow realized, because she'd never really been one. Ms. Calendar hadn't tried to buddy up to Buffy or pump Giles for information or even take Willow more under her wing than what would have been normal. She'd just...existed. Dated a nice guy who she clearly cared about. Offered her thoughts on the supernatural and witchcraft when called for. Pored through old books and the net when they were stuck on some strange puzzle. Made enough microwave popcorn for all of them when they were tired and cranky and cooped up in the library. Chuckled at their lame jokes and eventually started throwing a few of her own out there, too.
But she was nice about it, Willow thought. She hadn't forced herself down their throats and she was still the sharp-witted, hip teacher Willow had come to respect, but Willow had watched carefully enough to see her softer side creep through. She'd helped Xander with homework one afternoon when Willow and Xander were killing time waiting for Buffy to finish training, and did so in the sort of way that had taken Willow years to master - Ms. Calendar had been patience and no-nonsense, but not in a way that would have made Xander feel like the idiot he often was thought to be. Willow had fallen asleep in the library once and woke up a little while later, the light all different in the library as the afternoon had given way to evening, and had been startled and disoriented until she realized that she had Ms. Calendar's cardigan draped around her and that Giles and Ms. Calendar were still there, too - at the reference desk in fact, wrapped in each other's arms and swaying in such a way that Willow had felt her stomach flip pleasantly. They weren't like that couple you wanted to stop watching because it grossed you out, Willow had realized that night. They were the kind of couple that you couldn't take your eyes off of and found yourself rooting for.
So Willow had been torn when the truth came spilling out and Buffy was angry and heartbroken and Giles felt betrayed and Ms. Calendar was...what? Who? Someone with her own tough life and family obligations? Someone who might have had some inkling that Angel could lose his soul, but had truly no idea as to how? To Willow, she was still the same teacher who praised her and paid attention to her and listened to her, except now she had sad eyes and a permanently downcast face and a very rare smile for anyone, even Willow. Willow had tried anyway. She still handed in perfect work and extra projects, and even though she didn't stay after class or come in during her free periods out of loyalty to Buffy, she tried hard to meet Ms. Calendar's eyes in class. Willow was lucky that she was good with computers because she'd taken to spending entire periods not listening to Ms. Calendar's lectures or demonstrations or directions, but trying persistently to get her to look at her, really, really look at her. Willow hoped that her eyes would say all of the things that her voice couldn't - that she was sorry, and sorry that she couldn't say that she was sorry aloud, and that she really did like her and care about her and appreciate her, and - even more than that - that she was sad that everything was such a mess and Buffy was taking it all out on her and that Giles was ignoring her. Willow was especially sad about that; for someone doing the ignoring, Giles didn't seem to be all that happier about it than Ms. Calendar was.
Willow wished she had some way to reach her, and also some way that she could be two people at once: the loyal, sympathetic best friend who could understand Buffy's pain and support her lashing out, but also the loyal student who really cared about Jenny, too. She had thought back to how Ms. Calendar had hugged her suddenly after Willow's shy thanks after their battle with the Master. She hadn't been expecting that, not at all, and she couldn't remember a time recently that any grown up had touched her with any sort of affection, much less actually hugged her. But Ms. Calendar had, and it had been that good, affirming sort of hug where Willow could tell that Ms. Calendar really meant it and really had wanted to hug her and not just felt obligated to. And Willow had felt warmed in all sorts of ways she hadn't expected, so much so that she'd reached for Ms. Calendar's hand without even thinking. She'd felt babyish and embarrassed when she realized what she'd done, but Ms. Calendar had held onto her gently without comment.
Willow had known then that Ms. Calendar was safe. She was there and she was solid and she was letting Willow hold onto her almost as if she could tell how much Willow had needed it. It was the kind of thing Willow never could have put into words no matter how she tried. And she'd found that the more she'd looked desperately to try to catch Ms. Calendar's eyes, and the more that she privately yearned that she could hug Ms. Calendar as swiftly and reassuringly as Ms. Calendar had hugged her last spring, the further away Ms. Calendar seemed and the angrier Buffy seemed to be and the sadder Giles seemed to get. It was no good, not at all. And it made Willow wish that if she couldn't please two people, she'd at least get up the backbone to confront both - one for making her choose and for making the other out to be the bad buy, and the other for stepping back and giving into the first one so quickly, without any sort of fight or attempt to stand up for herself.
And it made Willow faintly sick to realize that all of their ignoring and punishing and shunning had nearly gotten Ms. Calendar killed. It had really only been a fluke that Giles had put it all together in time. Buffy had phoned him quietly to assure him that the spell had worked and Angelus was unwelcomed and everyone had battened down the hatches in their respective homes, and Giles had told her that he, too, getting ready to perform the spell only he was hoping that Ms. Calendar would get there first. Willow hadn't really been paying attention to Buffy's end of the call until she was suddenly silent, the same thing apparently occurring to her and Giles at the same time, before exploding into frantic exclamations. Willow barely had time to process before Buffy had flown around the room gathering supplies and hustled Willow downstairs, making some excuse to her mother about extra credit projects and science fair entries that Mr. Giles was spearheading and needed assistance with. Mrs. Summers had barely given her hesitant blessing before she and Buffy were out of the house and in Giles' car and off to the school. And they'd barely made it in time.
Willow shuddered again as she thought about the scene they'd come upon, Jenny in Angelus's grip, framed before the window, a look of complete terror and resignation on her face. Now that she was able to really think back on it, Willow realized that it was that look most of all that got her screaming. The whole thing was horrific enough, but seeing it on Ms. Calendar's face that she knew she was about to die - suddenly, violently, painfully - was enough to throw Willow over the edge. What had they done? What had they done? The thought had echoed in her mind repeatedly even as Jenny was thrown back toward her and Giles and they'd run to the library and she and Ms. Calendar had sat together in the near darkness, not knowing even despite their best efforts if they were truly safe.
This wasn't going to happen again, Willow thought suddenly from her position on the stairs. Not the...near dying, hopefully, on anyone's part, but mostly the sidekick act. She had no illusions about her or Xander or Cordelia or even Giles being anything more than the behind-the-scenes crew to Buffy's headlining gig and that suited her just fine. She liked being a part of something and helping people and saving the world, even if it took the form of research and books and distractions so that Buffy could do the real dirty work. But that didn't mean that it had to extend to every aspect of her and Buffy's friendship. Buffy was right, she reflected uncomfortably. She would have been devastated if Ms. Calendar had been killed last night. Willow would have been inconsolable and heartbroken and, yes, gutted, but most of all guilty. There was no good way to die, especially in Sunnydale, but it was made worse when there were so many regrets and so much left unsaid. Ms. Calendar hadn't been an insignificant, "nice" dead teacher that Willow would have felt sorry about for a moment before moving on to fret over whether the new teacher would keep the old curriculum and grading policy. Ms. Calendar would have amounted to something like a comrade or even a loved one, and Willow would have felt her loss even more acutely knowing that she'd spent the last few weeks of her favorite teacher's life ignoring her and dismissing any attempts to be kind or considerate or mend fences and refusing to offer even the most basic understanding and decency. And it wouldn't have been Buffy's fault, necessarily, because she'd never held a gun to Willow's head or even implied that Willow had to choose, but Willow had chosen all the same. And the shame of that realization burned through Willow desperately.
"Hey," a quiet voice broke through her thoughts. "You awake over there?"
Willow looked up to find the subject of her ruminations staring at her thoughtfully. She looked okay, Willow noted, for someone who nearly hadn't lived to see the morning. Her filmy dress didn't seem to hold wrinkles and her hair seemed shiny and unknotted, miraculous considering the circumstances, so Willow had the eerie sense that they were beginning yesterday all over again. Soon she'd be with Xander and Buffy outside, chirping away about substitute teaching and lesson plans, and be more than a little put out when she'd spy Jenny crossing the quad in this same outfit, looking young and pretty and unwrinkled and whole. And solidly, completely, alive, warm blood and beating heart and all.
Before Willow's mind had even caught up, her body seemed to take on a life of its own, propelled by her own heart to ease herself to her feet, no easy task considering the position she'd pretzeled herself into, and unceremoniously threw her arms around Jenny Calendar. Her mind got in gear enough to register that this could be awkward and a bit unwelcome, perhaps, considering she hadn't even said a word in greeting or explanation before her impromptu display of affection. But before she could think too much or talk herself into drawing back uncomfortably, Ms. Calendar's arms had circled her and she was hugging her back in a sort of way that was gentle and forceful all at once.
"I...I," Willow stuttered, unsure of where to start or what to say or how to get it all out. So much had flown through her head in such a short amount of time. She tucked her face into Ms. Calendar's shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut, but she was sure that Ms. Calendar would still feel her tears through the thin material of her dress. "I don't know what to say," she babbled, aware that Ms. Calendar hadn't loosened her grip. "I...I'm usually good with words and I have so much to say, but I don't even know where to start."
"You don't have to say anything," Ms. Calendar offered. "Really. It's going to be okay. Or maybe not completely, because it's Sunnydale, but it will be better. It has to be, right?" She eased back a little from Willow so that she could look her directly in the face.
"What brought this on," she asked Willow gently, bringing one hand from around Willow to softly finger her hair. "I mean, besides the obvious. Or maybe it is the obvious, that is reason enough. Not that I don't appreciate a good hug, because those are always needed."
Willow smiled at her a little. "You didn't always seem like the hugging type," she murmured, catching Jenny's eye to show she meant no harm by her words. "I mean, not that I mind either. Hugs are...good. And kind of rare, for me anyway."
Jenny smiled back. "I tend not to make hugging my students a habit," she explained lightly. "Although there's some argument that you and your Scooby crowd stopped being my just my students a long time ago." Her words brought Willow back to her self-flagellation on the stairs, and her eyes immediately welled.
"That wasn't supposed to make you cry," Jenny pointed out. "I kind of suck at this, I'm sorry."
"It's not you," Willow managed, trying to shake the tears from her voice enough to make her point. "And you don't suck at this. It's just...you stopped being my teacher a long time ago, too. I just wish I had treated you that way when...you know, everything happened."
Jenny considered her carefully for a moment. "I think that you and Buffy are both being awfully hard on yourselves," she said finally. "And like I said last night, just because I...almost died doesn't mean that you don't have the right to be angry. And I wouldn't feel right if things were just...good now because you feel sorry about Angelus attacking me. Nearly dying shouldn't change how you're entitled to feel."
"But that's just it," Willow exploded. She would have pulled herself out of Ms. Calendar's grip to pace and rant, but there was something comforting about the way Ms. Calendar was still holding onto her. "I don't think we were entitled to feel anything like how we acted. I mean, maybe Buffy, but I still don't think that was right or fair. But especially not me. I followed, Ms. Calendar, and I shouldn't have. You never gave me any reason not to like you or trust you and I...I just shut you out. And I'm scared, or well, maybe not now because it's over but…"
"It scares you that if something had happened to me, that's how it would have been left," Ms. Calendar filled in quietly, looking suddenly sad herself. "And I understand how you feel because I spent the night feeling much the same way." She looked over Willow's shoulder and Willow turned her head to follow her gaze, realizing that Giles was standing at the tables behind them. Had he been there the whole time?
"I think we all have regrets," Jenny continued, catching Willow's eyes once more. "And there's nothing much we can really do now except try to move forward. I...I wasn't supposed to see today. And being here, with you and Buffy and Rupert, and seeing the light and knowing it's a new day, it feels like a second chance. And I don't want to waste that by thinking about what was. I know that I could have and should have done better by you all. And now I have another chance to do it."
Willow nodded. "So do I. I don't want to believe that life is too short, but it is Sunnydale so life expectancy is kind of like, below average. And maybe it's too short to hold grudges or not, like, show people you care. Because I care. I care a lot."
"I care a lot, too." Jenny hugged Willow again, much to Willow's relief, and Willow squeezed her back with gentle enthusiasm. "And for the record," she whispered in Willow's ear. "I like hugs, too, even though they're also kind of rare for me. There's a lot of things I like."
"Coffee," Willow answered softly. "Computers. Witchcraft. Blueberry muffins. Leather jackets. Giles." She felt, rather than saw, Ms. Calendar's smile against her cheek. This time it was her turn to disengage and smiled when she could finally look Ms. Calendar in the eye. "Just to start. There's probably more that I'll notice, now that you'll be around more again."
"I plan to be," Jenny answered. "For a long, long, long time. Even by Sunnydale's sad standards." She draped an arm around Willow's shoulders, easing them both forward. "I think we're ready, Rupert," she called.
Willow eyed Giles curiously. What a night it must have been for him, because for however bad she and Buffy had had it, Giles must have had exponentially worse. "We'll have to be quick about it," he offered, checking his watch. "First period starts in ninety minutes." He looked up to find both women watching him nonplussed. "Jenny, are you quite sure that you don't want to take the morning off?"
"I do have a good sub," Jenny agreed, squeezing Willow's shoulders. "But, honestly, Rupert, I think I'd just like it if today was as normal as possible."
"I suppose that's fair." The three of them began to walk to the door, and with a meaningful look at Jenny, Willow carefully detangled herself to walk alongside them. Her instincts were correct when, a moment later, Giles reached out to take Ms. Calendar's hand.
"Hey, Giles, do you want to know something?" Willow kept her voice light as she looked at Ms. Calendar teasingly. She had wanted things to go back to normal, right? Teasing from the Scoobies was definitely part of the norm around here. "Ms. Calendar says she likes hugs. And she doesn't get them all that often. And, you know, since she almost died and all, I think Ms. Calendar ought to get some extra ones then. Don't you?"
Jenny shot Willow a disapproving look, undercut by a soft giggle, while Giles looked at Willow rather seriously. "I, uh, suppose that could be in order." He cut his eyes toward Jenny, who leaned in to wrap an arm around his waist. The slightly harried expression on his face vanished a bit as he tucked Jenny into his side. Willow tried not to look too closely or appear too interested, but everything inside her was singing. They'd be okay. They all would be.
"Hugs tend to lead to other things, too," Willow added helpfully, scarcely believing her own nerve. Xander would be proud. "That, um, tends to be helpful too if you're mending fences. Or so I'm told."
"Willow." Jenny looked at her pointedly, but couldn't hide the amusement or gratitude in her eyes. Willow just grinned back at her, unbothered, as they stepped out of the doors and into the light of the early morning dawn. They walked slowly toward the faculty lot, lingering quietly near the two remaining cars.
"We'll be okay," Giles murmured, and Willow couldn't tell if it was to Jenny or for both of them or even just for his own reassurance. She watched as he held Jenny closer to him, and Jenny leaned forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss. Willow looked away a bit shyly as Giles wrapped both arms around her waist and Jenny wound her arms around his neck, the two of them interlocked for what felt like a long moment.
Jenny disengaged from Giles gently, smiling at him fully before reaching for Willow's hand. "I think we're going to be just fine." She squeezed Willow's hand a little before tugging her in the direction of your car. "I'll drive you home, Will, if you want to change and then ride back with me. If you don't mind stopping with me at my place."
"Are you sure you'll be alright," Giles asked a bit anxiously, looking back and forth between Jenny and Willow.
"You'll see us at the first bell," Jenny reassured him easily.
Willow took Ms. Calendar's arm. "I won't let anything happen to her, Giles," she said earnestly. "I promise." She felt buoyed by the soft reassurance of Ms. Calendar's touch and the way the easy Will had made her feel inside, and even more so by Giles's thankful eyes and careful pat on the shoulder. They were going to be just fine, just like Ms. Calendar had said.
Willow watched their shadows in the bright sun as they walked together toward the car. They'd made it to tomorrow, to the light. The light of day brought second chances, a path forward, a bridge from the discord and mistrust that had followed them into the night to a sort of gentle peace and understanding that none of them had realized was desperately needed. They could reset, now. They could begin anew.