Chapter Two
'I have stood here before
inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles
running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that
you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be
the King of Pain…'
The Police, 'King of Pain'
The long and unfamiliar metallic clanking of the heater kicked in and startled an exhausted Willow from her rest, a noise she hadn't heard in many years. She hadn't spent the night at Jesse's since she was very nearly nine years old. Since Jesse's mother found, or perhaps caught, Willow 'playing doctor' with Jesse and Xander. Fortunately for all of their parents, Willow misunderstood the hidden meaning of 'playing doctor' and was halfway through a comprehensive physical exam on a shirtless and irritated Jesse; complete with a stethoscope, a copy of Gray's Anatomy and a back issue of the New England Journal of Medicine. Items that were given to her by her surgeon uncle in Arizona. She even noted to Jesse's parents in a serious "doctor" tone that he had both a slight heart murmur and a mild case of scoliosis, and that Xander was in "perfect" condition. Oddly enough, further inspection of Jesse by their family pediatrician only confirmed her diagnosis. Still, she was banned from any overnight visits, and her father made her return the stethoscope to her uncle.
As the rumbling of the electric heater shook the walls of her room, she shivered as if she was touched briefly by a live wire and her eyes grew wide. She blinked hard several times in an effort to acclimate herself to the darkness of her room. But this wasn't her room, she realized. Her still-sleeping brain eventually caught up with her startled body and she remembered that she was at Jesse's, no, Brian's house, now. With balled-up fists, she rubbed at her red and raw eyes, then stretched her arms over and behind her head before rolling out of the warm sheets of the bed to get a glass of water. Padding across the cool floorboards in her white gym socks, she had to stop a moment and reorient herself with the layout of Brian's home. 'The last thing I want to do,' she thought with a smile, 'is to walk into Brian's bedroom in the middle of the night. I don't think I could ever live that down.'
She fought to avoid the inevitable squeak from the door handle, pulling the door open slowly and methodically. After having adjusted to the dimness of her bedroom, even the soft lamplight coming from down the hall in the living room was like a searchlight in her eyes. She grunted and quickly covered her eyes with a hand, squinting in the direction of the light. She stepped into the living room and found Brian casually draped over the leather sofa, one socked foot draped over the arm of the chair and the other wrapped underneath it. A heavy-looking book was marked and laid opened not quite halfway and laying flat across his chest, with one hand keeping the book's balance while his other hand laid comfortably across his eyes. 'He looks so peaceful,' she thought to herself, unable to stop the smile from forming on her lips.
Willow paused a moment to take a long look at her new friend. Stretched out across the couch, she saw something that made her take a moment, something she couldn't quite identify. It just felt so much like the final tumbler in a combination lock had just fallen into place, slipped into a groove. It just felt - right - like something clicked inside of her. Right in a way she never knew existed or thought possible, but she knew that's what it was. If only she knew what it meant.
'But what about me?,' came the Xander-voice in her head, and it caused her chest to ache. 'Oh, God,' she exhaled mentally. 'Xander!' Her mind flashed to the goofy grin of her best friend, his over-sized ears, his chocolate-brown eyes, and the unruly mop of dark brown hair that always swept over his eyes and made Willow want to rush over and sweep it back into place. She frowned, nearly angry with herself, as the thoughts assaulted her senses. 'Why am I suddenly thinking of Xander?'
The war waging inside her immediately called for a cease-fire when she heard a muffled cry from the young man tossing and turning now on the leather couch, the large novel fell awkwardly to the floor with a thump laying face down and creasing several pages in the process. The redhead refocused her eyes and saw Brian who cried out in his sleep, but about what she was unsure. She crossed the room quickly, wiping the sweat from his brow and smoothing her hand gently across his cheek hoping to soothe away whatever nightmare had claimed him. He thrashed about violently for a moment until the gentle soprano of Willow's voice brought him back from the ether of his subconscious.
"Brian? Are you okay?"
"Huh, wha-? Willow? What are you doing in my room?" Brian asked sleepily.
She looked down at him, a crooked smile on her face. "You're not in your room. I guess you fell asleep reading on the couch. You kinda looked like you were having a bad dream. I came to check on you. Are you alright?"
He paused for a moment, allowing his still sleepy mind a moment to recover. Then he nodded, "Yeah, I think so."
"Do you remember what it was about?" Willow asked with concern.
He shook his head quickly, too quickly for Willow, though.
She knew he remembered it, and flashed him her 'resolve face.' Finally, he crumbled and nodded; the look on his face told her this was a recurring thing for him.
"What is it, Brian?," Willow pressed. "You can tell me, you know."
"It was… Darius." Brian responded, hoping that would be enough for her.
"Darius? You mean the priest, Father Darius?" Willow countered.
Brian nodded heavily, sudden tears stinging at his eyes and his throat constricted as the nightmare hung over him. He stole a glance out the large bay window before he finally answered her. "He, um… he died."
Willow snapped back as if stung. "Oh, Brian! I'm so sorry! That must have been horrible for you."
He laughed mirthlessly. "Horrible. Yeah, that's pretty much it." He shuffled around on the sofa, making more room for Willow to sit down. She took a sitting position on the far end of the couch, while Brian pulled his legs up close to him, then wrapped his arms around his knees.
Then he spoke so softly to Willow that she barely heard his voice over the still pouring rain. "They killed him, Willow. Right in front of me. That's why I was sent here. To hide." Despite himself, his lower lip trembled and the tears began to fall. "They cut off his head right in front of me, Willow, and laughed at me while they did it. They told me he was an 'abomination.' They laughed at me because they knew I couldn't do anything to stop them. God, Willow, who would want to kill a priest!?" The wall finally fell and his young body shook up and down as the wracking sobs washed over him. He moved his hands up from his knees to wipe at his tear-stained face, then he buried his head in the crook created by his bent knees and curled himself into a ball, anguished moans escaping from somewhere deep within him.
Brian's revelation rolled around in the redhead's mind, and her heart broke for him. She slid next him, embracing him in her tiny arms, barely aware of the tears spilling from her own eyes. She let him cry, though, and didn't try to offer any condolences. From the words he said, and likely what he didn't say, there were no words of comfort, anyway. So she just held him tighter, till they both fell into a restful and dreamless slumber that lasted the rest of the night. And as Brian and Willow drifted off peacefully in each other's arms, the rain finally let up on the quiet little town of Sunnydale.
Sunrise came quickly the next morning, and the early red-orange corona across the mountaintops to the east streamed through Brian's front window, and its light was what eventually woke Willow from a sound slumber. She winced as dawn's early light burned through her eyelids, and she blinked away the crusty sleep in the corners of her eyes. She meant to rub away the remnants, but found an arm draped lazily over her that prevented it. A large, heavy and very male arm, with a hand cupping one of her breasts, and causing a curious and unfamiliar, yet not at all unpleasant feeling in the pit of her belly. She finally turned in the arms to see Brian's peaceful and still sleeping face, and her jaw dropped open. With a start, all of their late night conversation came rushing back at her.
'Oh. My. God! We slept together!' She screamed despite her best efforts to remain quiet, then winced as she saw Brian's smooth brow crease as the high-pitched screech pierced his ears, and she smacked his hand away from her bosom. Half a second later, his eyes opened directly to Willow's and he screamed, too.
"W-willow? Willow! What?! What're you doing in my bed?," Brian shouted, wincing as the loud noise reverberated in his ears, and holding his injured hand against his chest.
Willow winced, too, and the blood rushed away from her already pale face, turning it an ashen gray. He studied her for a moment, realizing she was about to cry. "Hey, don't cry, Willow."
Still the tears came. "Oh, God. My parents are so gonna kill me. I'll be grounded until I'm fifty. If I'm lucky."
Brian cocked his head to the side and smiled wryly. "I won't tell if you don't."
"I'm such a slut." Willow moaned, burying her head in her hands.
He didn't mean to. He really didn't. But he laughed at her.
Willow looked up at him sharply, green blades of death in her narrowed eyes. Brian held up his hands to forestall the inevitable smack to the face. "I'm sorry." Brian cried out around a giggle, unable to keep the smile off his face, which only served to infuriate Willow even more.
"It's not funny!" Willow snapped back.
The smile vanished from Brian's face immediately. "I'm sorry. You're right, it's not." He reached out and took her hand in his, stroking the thumb across her palm. "Willow, you're not a slut, okay?"
"Are you sure?" she asked in a quiet voice.
He fought against the smirk threatening to break through his resolve. "I'm certain. And I think I can be a pretty good judge of character. Now, I think I should either kick you out now or make us some breakfast. Your call." Brian announced, glad to have put the conversation behind them.
The young woman wiped away both the tears and the crusty sleep in the corners of her eyes, then smiled to Brian in relief. She stood and walked down the hall to the guest bedroom to retrieve her clothes. "Um, well… I'd love to stay for breakfast and all, Brian," her voice echoed from down the hall. "but I think it would be a good idea if I went home now. My parents should be calling soon, anyway. They might get worried if I'm not there."
Brian nodded his assent, though Willow could clearly see the disappointment in his eyes. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He stood slowly, letting his knees stretch out for a moment. "I'll walk you out, okay?" She slipped her tennis shoes on, then nodded and they moved to the front door. Brian opened the door, then looked back to Willow. He smiled as she stepped past him, then reached again for her hand. "Can I, um… see you again? You know, in a less sleep-over, more go-see-a-movie sort of way?"
Willow smiled brightly, and bounced on her heels. "Sure!" Then she regained control of herself and some of her composure. "I mean, o-okay, how about this Friday night, maybe? We could see 'The English Patient.' My parents saw it and said it was really good."
Brian smiled and nodded, but cringed on the inside. 'The English Patient? Oh, man. Not a chick flick! Worse, a three-and-a-half-hour chick flick.' He whined mentally like a six-year-old.
"Sure. 'The English Patient,' it is. This Friday night, then, alright?" Willow nodded eagerly and started to head off towards her house when Brian pulled her back to him and kissed her. The kiss was slightly clumsy as the two were fairly new at it and only one was expecting it. It lasted barely three seconds before Willow's head snapped back in surprise. Their eyes met, and Brian stroked his hand tenderly across her cheek, his thumb caressing the soft rosy flesh. He searched her eyes for a silent confirmation while she nervously chewed on her flushed and swollen lower lip, then leaned back in for a second kiss. While it was not exactly the best moment for a kiss, Willow leaned into it, once she recovered from the shock, tilting her head back to compensate for Brian's six inch height advantage. She dropped her bundle of clothes on the stone steps, then wrapped her arms behind his neck and deepened the kiss, while Brian wrapped his muscular arms around her waist. They continued on his doorstep for perhaps another minute or so, till they both ran short of breath.
Panting, Willow looked up at Brian, his eyes darkened from the heated moment. "What was that for?" She asked him breathlessly.
"Carpe diem? I was, uh… seizing the day. Why, didn't you like it?" Brian replied with uncertainty. "I-I mean you seemed to, y'know, l-like it. Oh, God, you didn't like it." He flushed and lowered his head, running his hand through his sleep-tousled hair.
"Oh, no! I liked it… a lot. It was great. Very, um… kiss-like." Willow rambled.
Her mind spoke out to her from her Xander-place, reminding her of just what was bothering her. 'I always thought I would be your first.' Xander's voice echoed inside her. She sighed inside, considering her life long friend and how he might react when he found out about what she had just done. 'Dammit! It's not fair! Brian really likes me! And I like him, too. He's sweet and kind and really cute. He even kissed me, and I liked it. So why do I keep thinking about Xander.'
"You okay in there?," Brian asked, while waving a hand before her eyes. Willow jumped, and her eyes refocused on him. He grinned at her, lowering his head to meet her at eye level. "Hey, Willow, you okay? You seemed kinda lost in there for a minute."
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry… I, uh, guess my mind was a million miles from here." Willow replied, shaking her head slowly. "So, uh, I guess I'll see you…"
Brian nodded. "Yep, tomorrow at school, right?" Willow nodded, the smile returning to her face. "See you then." He leaned back down, and this time Willow was prepared, and their kiss was less clumsy and more passionate. After a long moment, Willow finally pulled back and waved to him as she jogged across the street to her house. Brian didn't step back into his home until he saw that Willow made it inside, and saw her wave to him from her open door. Finally, Brian shut the door behind him, and leaned against the door in amazement.
Across the street, a breathless Willow propped herself up against her door, panting heavily and pressing her palm to her lips. She remained that way for a full minute, savoring the giddy lightheaded feeling of her first real kiss, then she giggled and ran to the phone to call Buffy. She mashed the speed-dial and tapped her foot impatiently as the phone connected with a groggy Buffy on the other end.
"Huh-lo?" Buffy drew out slowly, and Willow guessed that her friend was still clutching the pillow over her head even as she spoke.
"Morning, Buffy," came the chipper reply.
"Is it, already?" Buffy mumbled grumpily. She opened her eyes. "Willow, it's still dark out. Call me back in a few hours. Ah'm tired. Lemee sleep."
Willow looked outside to the sunny Californian morning in confusion, then laughed. "Buffy! Take the pillow off your head! It's morning!"
Cautiously, Buffy lifted the pillow from her head, then immediately regretted it as light burst forth and caught Buffy in the retinas.
She winced and slammed the pillow back over her head, groaning into the phone. "Call me back in a few hours, Will. I'm still tired." Buffy whined petulantly.
But Willow would have none of this. She knew exactly what it would take. "You wanna go to the mall?"
"The mall?" Buffy asked, barely believing her ears. Willow never wanted to go to the mall. "Willow, are you feeling okay? You never want to go to the mall."
"That's not true! I went with you last month!" Willow exclaimed.
"Oh, yeah. We were there for half an hour. We were only there to get a book for Giles. That's not shopping, that's running an errand." Buffy snapped back good naturedly.
"Well, I'm asking now. You wanna go?"
"Of course! I'll ask my mom if she can drop us off."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The earth was still mushy and damp from the previous night's thunderstorm, and Buffy mentally cursed herself for wearing boots with heels, as they repeatedly sank into the drenched and spongy loam of the Whiteoak cemetery, the one across the street from Xander's house. As fashionable as her new beige suede ankle boots might be, they really sucked for patrol, and she was sure the soggy soil would ruin them. Buffy thought back to earlier that morning, amazed at her redheaded confidant.
Willow wasn't kidding when she said she wanted to do some shopping: almost fifteen hundred dollars and several bags worth of clothes, shoes, cosmetics and accessories later. The things she selected would make Cordelia proud, and if Buffy was a fashion expert, then Willow was an extremely promising young protégé. In fact, Buffy was particularly envious of the Italian leather blazer that Willow came across and spent over four hundred dollars on. Matte black and silky soft, it hung down to Willow's upper-thigh and hugged in near her slim waist. She was certain it had been made just for her, but Willow got to it first.
"Love the jacket, Will. It'll go so great with that olive-green ribbed cotton sweater you bought at Bloomie's." Buffy commented to the redhead, eyeing the coat enviously, then stroking the sleeve with the palm of her hand. 'It would also go so well with my light blue sweater,' Buffy thought to herself. 'I hope she'll let me borrow it sometime.'
"I like it, too." Willow replied, noticing Buffy's intense stare. Unconsciously, she pulled the coat tighter around her shoulders. 'If you think you're borrowing this jacket, Buffy, then you're seriously deluded.'
Buffy snatched up the price tag hanging loosely on the sleeve. "Whoa! Four hundred and seventy-five dollars!?! When did you get four hundred and seventy-five dollars?"
Willow looked at Buffy for a moment, confused as to why Buffy was acting jealous around her. It took Willow a moment to realize she was still ogling her jacket. "Well, there was my Bat Mitzvah party a few years ago. And I've been baby-sitting the next-door neighbor's kids for a few years now, and then there was the birthday money and Hanukkah gifts from my uncle."
Seemingly satisfied with her answer, Buffy nodded. "Oh, okay. So what brought on this whole change of style? This isn't like you at all."
"Aren't I allowed to express myself, too? Do I always have to be the nerd?" Willow snapped back nastily. She turned and picked up a vial of flowery imported perfume, spraying a sample into the air, then sniffing, and making an obvious attempt to ignore the Slayer.
"No, Will. Sorry, that wasn't what I meant. I'm just wondering where the sudden need to get fashion conscious is coming from. Is it a guy?" Buffy queried with a wide smile, leaning forward to grasp Willow's arm a little tighter than necessary, realizing too late that her Slayer strength would probably leave a bruise on Willow's upper arm. "It's totally a guy, isn't it?"
If Willow was injured by the Slayer, she didn't show it. Though Willow's arm nearly slipped and she had to grasp the perfume bottle tightly in her hand, very nearly shattering it. "Uh… w-what makes you think that?"
"It is a guy! I knew it! Willow, you shouldn't go to all this trouble to get Xander to notice you. I mean, it's great that…" Buffy began.
"I'm not doing this for Xander, Buffy." Willow interrupted, now starting to get a little irritated.
"Then who is it?" Buffy asked, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Is it that cute guy in your Computer Science class?"
"What? No, I'm doing this for me, Buffy. Just me." Willow whipped back at her, and Buffy unconsciously took a half-step back in surprise. She didn't even know of any cute guys… at least not in her Computer Science class.
"Oh, Will. I didn't mean to… it's just that… well, you're Willow, and…" Buffy stammered out in contrition, and pulling her hand away from the jacket and apprehensively tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
"I'm what? 'Just Willow?' Buffy's nerdy little sidekick? Research girl? Just there to make you look better, so Xander, Angel and Giles will get all hormonal around you?" Willow continued, barely listening to her friend anymore. "Why can't I be…"
"Whoa! Waitjustaminute! I never thought of you that way, Will." Buffy replied hurriedly to calm her frenzied best friend, concerned and alarmed too that Willow would even think she thought that. "And I don't think that you're my sidekick. You're my best friend. I think it's great that you want to get Xander's attention. I'd love nothing more than to see Xander wake up and smell the hottie. But I just think you might be going a bit too far to get it."
"But that's just it, Buffy. I'm not doing this for him." She repeated slowly, like she was speaking to a four-year old, which only caused Buffy to get irritated. "I'm doing this for me."
'Well, not just you,' her conscience prompted her swiftly and remorselessly.
She turned back towards the glass counter and began sampling perfumes, a clear indication that the conversation was over.
Buffy took the hint and leaned in to sniff at the fragrant air. "Giles gets hormonal? Since when did Giles get hormonal? He's British. I didn't think that was even possible?" Her remark was rewarded with a snorting giggle and a raised eyebrow from Willow. Eventually, the two girls dissolved into a fit of giggles at the mental image of the stuffy English librarian.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
So immersed in her recollection of her earlier shopping trip with Willow, that the Slayer failed to notice the newly-risen barrel-chested vampire that rose up from its grave and snuck up behind her, trapping her arms behind her back. The demon quickly leaned in to devour her neck, not wasting any time with pleasantries. He was out for blood, and Slayer blood would do quite nicely for a first meal.
Buffy, however, recovered quickly and put any thoughts of her demise to rest with a powerful head-butt to the vamp's nose and mouth. The sound of several shattered teeth and ruptured cartilage nauseated her, then she reached for his arm and twisted it. The vamp was flipped onto his back, and he grunted both from the head-butt and the slam to the mossy turf. Buffy reached into her faded blue denim jacket for her stake, ready to plunge it into the demon's chest. She thrust it down, only to be stopped by a rolling kick that not only disarmed her, but also caught her across the side of her head and knocking her down to her knees. Her wooden stake skittering across the wet grass and disappearing into the hole opened by the vampire exiting his grave.
Buffy caught sight of her stake just as it teetered then slipped over the earthy precipice. She dove vainly for it, landing hard on her palms and chin, creating a divot in the soft mud, which left wet soil caked from her hands to her hair and stole the breath from her lungs. She wheezed out a curse as she struggled to regain her breath. As she turned back to her opponent, she saw the vampire stand up and brush the dust off his dark suit jacket. He then ran a bloody red tongue across his broken fangs, wincing as the pain assaulted his senses. He released an animalistic roar at the young Slayer, if he couldn't feed on her, the least he could do was snap her slender neck with his bare hands. He stepped towards her, eager to sink his dirty claws into her pale flesh.
"Oh, shi-," Buffy choked out as the husky vampire grabbed her by her throat, cutting off both her curse mid-word as well as her breath, lifting her several inches off the ground. Buffy clawed at his hands with her newly manicured nails, tearing out red lines of flesh which crumbled to ash under her nails. The vamp howled in pain, but refused to release his choke hold on the Slayer, and Buffy began to spasm involuntarily in his grasp. Multi-hued stars and comets danced in Buffy's vision, which was rapidly narrowing as oxygen was denied her brain. Her eyes fluttered closed and she sent out a final prayer to whatever gods or goddesses were listening to protect her family and friends, then went slack in the vampire's arms.
"You don't mind if I cut in, do you?," an unfamiliar voice called out sardonically, and Buffy felt the hands release her, and she dropped like a stone to the cemetery lawn, wheezing and coughing as her vision returned.
She looked up to see a young man, about Xander's height she could see, squaring off with a suddenly one-armed vampire. She shook her head to clear it, and saw the guy was carrying a sword. She blinked a few times, certain that she was hallucinating the event. Turning back, she saw him catch the vampire with a high kick to the face and followed it with a spinning back kick to the stomach, then finishing the demon off with a diagonal slash that cut it open from shoulder to waist. The vampire looked at the teen in surprise and felt his torso slide off his body as it began to crumble to dust before it hit the ground. The remainder of his form dissolved only a moment later.
Brian exhaled a sigh of relief, then turned to the slim young woman, who was busying herself with scraping the caked on mud from her hair with one hand, while rubbing the circulation back to her throat with the other. Brian lowered a hand to Buffy, which she accepted gratefully and was pulled up with a strength that surprised her. "Interesting choice for a moonlight stroll, miss. Are you alright?," Brian asked her.
"I will be, once I start breathing again. Oh, these boots are totally ruined, I just know it. I guess I was lucky you came by when you did. Thanks, I thought he really had me. Hi, I'm Buffy." She replied, still rubbing her aching throat. "So where did the va-… um, the guy go?"
Brian frowned for a moment. 'Oh, so this is Willow's friend. She's pretty.' "Uh, the guy? He… left. I guess he didn't like the odds after I showed up. Took off towards the trees over there." He motioned to a grove of sycamores to his right, just across from a large stone mausoleum.
"He did?," Buffy answered, not at all convinced. "So you didn't kill him with a sword, then?" The moment the words left her lips, she realized just how insane that sentence really sounded.
Brian paled under the moonlight, and he stammered. He felt for the katana hidden inside the lining of his leather jacket, comfortably assured it was hidden from view. "S-sword? What sword? Are you, um, certain that you didn't hit your head, or something? Maybe I should take you over to the emergency room and let them take a look at you."
She shook her head, emitting a nervous laugh as she looked around the graveyard. "No, that's okay. No head trauma for me. I'm fine. Buffy Summers, Indestructo-gal, that's me. Just a little sore throat and some wounded pride, that's all."
"Would you like me to escort you home, then?" Brian questioned gently and offering a crooked elbow to her.
Buffy smiled at the gentlemanly offer, but shook her head. At the limit of her recovering vision, she could see Angel, the souled vampire, approaching. "No, thanks. I should be alright now." She looked up at the taller man, ready to thank him again for the life-saving rescue, but he was gone. She blinked several times in rapid succession, suddenly uncertain if she hadn't just hallucinated the entire encounter.
The dark haired vampire jogged up to the young Slayer, concern marring his handsome features. "Buffy, are you alright?" He leaned in close as she nodded in silence, placing his hands on her face tenderly to examine her neck for serious injuries. Fortunately, he found none other than some darkening red ligature marks and the beginnings of bruises around her throat. 'She'll live', he concluded with relief, until a darker voice echoed perkily into his mind. 'Yeah, but for how much longer. She is still a Slayer, you know.' He ignored the black mood that tried to wrap around him at that thought, content with the moment. "So who was the guy?"
Buffy looked up sharply. "You know, I don't think I ever actually got his name. For awhile, I thought maybe I'd imagined him or something. We were talking, I turned to see you and when I looked back up, he was gone. Have you been giving stealthy lessons on the side?" Buffy kidded him as they walked from the muddy graveyard.
"Well, yeah. You know, a guy's gotta make a living somehow." Angel deadpanned his reply, which earned him a quick jab to the ribs.
