(a/n: Hey...genius drug woman. ((You know who you are, Ms. Pixie...or would that be that Mrs. Sir Lenny! Lady Lenny! wink)) I totally left my cell phone at home, so if you wanna call me, use my dorm number if you don't have it or don't remember it, e-mail me. Everyone else: Yeah. I was right. This semester is harder. I've already written a paper, and another one is due soon (and I still haven't thought of a topic). Everything is crazy, and I've recently lost my ability to know which direction is up. ((sigh)). Stupid College. Stupid boys that I stupidly have to stupidly like. Stupid. grumbles. ((sigh)).
Thank y'all for reviewing and making me feel so guilty I had to update, regardless of the fact that I really, really need to be studying Psychology.
This chapter is dedicated to the faboo and extra fantabulous Christar (who is wonderful and helps me especially when I really, really need it without making me feel like the biggest idiot on the face of the planet. And who takes lots and lots of time to actually help me, even when I'm sometimes too stubborn to just take her bloody good advice oh, and by the way, you, stop making guesses. You're too right . )
To the previously mentioned Lady Lenny (who I love dearly and thus must mock and who helps me make sense of the stupid, stupid boys that I stupidly have to stupidly like. giggles))
And to The Dearest Lady, Brittany Nicole my wife person (who let's me keep her sort of plaid soul in a fishbowl, and who is my life-saver and not in the creepy candy way, and ooh! OOOH! I CALL IT! Mwahahaha! sigh) I keep digging deeper holes.) Right. And for anyone who didn't understand that last one...don't worry about it. I'm just insane.
Chapter Nine of Unexpected Losses
There was a new tenseness between Willow and Harry. They hadn't known each other long, but each was a sort of safety (from the Dursley family) for the other. Not that the Dursleys were so much as unkind to Willow (Vernon's coldness excluded), but she felt Harry as some kind of normalcy after living on a Hellmouth for her entire life. The Dursleys were just...too normal, which was weird to the redhead. Normal wasn't done...it wasn't, well, normal. And thanks to the session of "sharing" they were both uncomfortable. Willow felt as if she'd pried too deeply into Harry's life (especially in bringing up the death of his parents, a burn she was still aching over in her own life). Harry, on the other hand, felt that he was too harsh about his reactions to her curiosity (even though he probably wouldn't–or couldn't—change his reaction to those questions).
It had been three days since their conversation and the death of Terry Boot. Three days in which tensions built up to a breaking point, a tension so thick that it felt as if no one in the house was unaffected by. Petunia was flighty and nervous, never able to keep still. Vernon tended to lose his temper more quickly than before, and he left for work earlier and came home later in the evening, before eating a deeply uncomfortable dinner with everyone and stomping up to his bedroom. Willow reverted to the shy girl she'd been before ever meeting Buffy. She barely spoke to anyone, and kept her nose buried in books. Harry was tense, and was on a constant alert, obviously thinking something was going to go wrong. Dudley, however, seemed immune to all of this. He mostly wasn't home, though, and tended to go hang over at his friend's homes. When he was home, Willow couldn't explain the fact that she became even more unnerved. It might've been the presence of another person...but whatever it was, it was becoming more defined.
This led Willow to spend a little time possible outside of the room she shared with Harry. And Harry seemed to be there just as often, usually looking out the windows, anticipating Hedwig's return. Willow wanted to ask him if the white owl's flights always took this long, but was still too nervous to talk to him. This thick-tensioned monotony continued on until December 24th. The day before Christmas. And it was then that Willow received a surprise.
It had all started innocently enough. A knock on the door. Vernon was still at work at the time, and Dudley was out once more. Harry and Willow were both cooped up in his room. Harry was at his desk, doing some light homework. Willow, despite her slight discomfort, was reading over his shoulder out of pure curiosity. When Harry finally realized this, he moved over a bit so she could read at a more comfortable angle. This seemed to break whatever it was that had been built between them. In fact, Harry's mouth was open to speak when Petunia opened the door.
"Yes, ma'am?" Willow asked, politely, only slightly annoyed to be interrupted. Too well-mannered to be anything but entirely courteous, she smiled warmly at her "aunt."
"Willow...it seems that you have a visitor." Petunia's voice was every bit as polite as her goddaughter's had been, but it was obvious that she disapproved of Willow's guest being unannounced. She didn't notice, then, as Willow blanched, thinking that her caller had to have been the man in the mask that had tried to attack her back in Sunnydale. Buffy and Xander had both told her to be careful, and she meant to be. But how careful could one be when their attacker is showing up at their home? Willow headed downstairs, trying to think of any quick spell (offensive or defensive, she didn't care) she could use in case it was her masked assailant.
She stepped into the parlor, where she knew the ever-proper Aunt Petunia would have put her guest. Entering the room her heart stopped in pure, unadulterated shock.
Harry watched as Willow left the room, pale as a ghost. He didn't know what she was suddenly so terrified of, but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to attempt to help her. He followed her to the stairwell, ignoring a look from his Aunt. She apparently disapproved of his going after Willow. She headed past him into the kitchen without as much as a word to either of the teenagers. Harry guessed that she was going to attempt to put out tea for Willow's guest. The redhead was already down the stairs.
As he had expected her to do, she entered the parlor. A moment later, she backed out of it, hand to her mouth, eyes wide with disbelief. Harry pulled his wand from his pocket. Ministry-laws-be-damned. If his friend was in trouble, he was going to help her. Regardless of any consequence. He started down the stairs, wand ready, with the Latin words that would trigger a curse ready at his lips. That is, until Willow fainted.
Willow groaned. What had she hit? Or, rather, what had hit her? It was apparently very, very large. She was being delusional. Maybe she'd been dreaming, and she was just coincidentally waking up with a headache the size of Canada. She managed to crack one hazel eye, and spotted a worried Harry. "Wha-what happened?" She managed, swallowing thickly at her dry mouth.
"You fainted." Harry answered in response, raising an eyebrow at her, as if surprised at her question.
"Yeah. I mean, I know I'm about as good as it gets in the realm of awesomeness, but I didn't think you'd pass out at me." Another voice answered. Willow knew that voice better than she knew her own. Better than she knew her parents. Hazel eyes shot open all at once, as she flung herself at her best friend in the world. "Heya, Wills. Merry Christmas."
"Alexander Harris." She said sternly, tears in her eyes, as she continued to hug him. "You are going to give me a heart attack one of these days, and I'm going to kill you for it." She finally let him go, before they simultaneously pulled each other into another bear hug. Willow reveled in the feeling of being back in the arms of her best friend...someone who just a few months ago she was terrified she wouldn't see for years.
"Aw, you know you love me too much to kill me." Xander answered with big puppy-dog eyes, and Willow grinned at him. "See? Yay for me."
"Uh...Willow?" Harry spoke, obviously waiting to be introduced to this new character.
"Oh! Sorry, Harry. Alexander 'Xander' Harris, meet my new bunkmate, Harry Potter. Harry, meet my best friend, Xander, who should (by all accounts) still be in Sunnydale, California." Willow was obviously to a bursting point of joy. She couldn't make herself stop grinning no matter how hard she tried.
"Well, we had to surprise you for Christmas, and sending packages this far away is just so expensive. So we sent the best thing: Xander and the dance of Christmas-y joy." The curly-haired brunette boy grinned at Willow, who immediately pictured her best friend doing the "Snoopy Dance" to cheer her up, as he'd done so many times before..
"Xander, this is just...amazing." Willow hugged him again, as if attempting to determine that he was really there. Xander, understanding this, just grinned, just as glad to be in the companionship of Willow once more.
"Yeah, yeah. Well, I couldn't resist an opportunity to come to the land of Giles-y tweed, now could I?" He answered, and Willow laughed openly at the comment that Harry decided he wasn't supposed to understand. He merely hoped that his home country wasn't being too badly mocked by an American who said things like "the dance of Christmas-y joy." The three were up in Harry-and-Willow's bedroom. After Willow'd fainted, he'd managed to rush down the bottom few steps to catch her before she cracked her skull open on Aunt Petunia's pristine, tiled floor.. Unfortunately, he'd been ill prepared to take on the extra dead weight, and was saved from falling by himself from Xander, who'd swiftly grabbed one of Willow's arms (thus alleviating some of the weight from Harry). The pair had managed to get her upstairs, and had barely placed her in her bed before she'd woken up.
"Where are you staying, Xan?" She reasonably asked, wondering how he'd managed to get the money for a plane ticket, much less a place to stay for...well...so much as a night. He didn't have a job, and his parents would probably die laughing if he'd asked money from them. Before probably beating the stuffing out of him for his assumption that they would ever give him some as valuable as money.
"Oh, don't you worry about me, Wills. I've got a place to stay. And I'm going to be here for three days! So, when do I kidnap you tomorrow?" Xander questioned.
"It'd probably be rude to leave in the morning, so I suppose leaving in the afternoon is the best idea." The way Willow spoke, it was obvious that she wasn't answering Xander so much as she was thinking aloud. "I should probably ask Aunt Petunia about it first, though, because I wouldn't want her to make too much food if I'm not going to be here...maybe you should come for dinner!"
"Nope, Wills, you're coming with me." Xander replied easily, a glint in his eye that Willow took to mean that he had already had plans and that she would either like enormously, or that he was suppressing the urge to tickle her into an oblivious inarguable state. Rather nervous about this second one coming true. Willow edged away. Xander merely gave her his best innocent I'm-not-doing-anything gaze before reaching out, and firmly, but softly, pressing his fingers into her sides. Laughter tore from the redhead's mouth, as she curled up into a fetal position in attempts to spare herself from Xander's well-practiced fingers.
"On Christmas Day?" Aunt Petunia looked affronted at the very idea. Willow stood firm, though. "Are you sure it couldn't wait until the day after?"
"No, ma'am. That's the day Xander is heading home, and as expensive as it is for him to come visit me, I'm going to insist upon it, if it's alright. I really would like to spend the day with him. And I don't celebrate Christmas, Aunt Petunia, I'm Jewish." 'Not all of us worship Santa.' Her mind added for her, but the redhead had a suspicion that Petunia wouldn't share in the humor.
"Very well, then." The older woman acquiesced, nodding once. "But please don't leave until after noon."
"Of course, I wouldn't want to disrupt your Christmas morning." Willow answered honestly. "But thank you."
"You're welcome, Willow. Now, it's probably time for bed, tomorrow is going to be a big day for everyone, and I'm sure you'd like to be nice and rested for your visit with Alexander tomorrow." Willow nodded in reply, shrugging off how odd it was to hear Xander's whole name from anyone pardoning herself and Xander's mother. When he was in trouble. Then again, she thought, it would be far weirder to hear the respectable woman address him as "Xander."
Upon reaching her room, she was greeted with the sight of Harry being apparently mauled by three owls – none of them Hedwig. It wasn't until she heard him snicker under his breath that she relaxed. "Pig! You have to come down here if you want me to take the package from you!" The small bird was attempting to help a larger owl hold a huge package. The bigger bird obviously wished to descend, but the smaller bird (stronger than it looked) was far more contented to flap about the ceiling. It wasn't until Harry spoke to it that it slowed its frantic circles. The third owl stood elegantly on Harry's desk, eating what Willow had been informed was an owl treat. It drank from a small bowl of water. It hooted smartly, giving what Willow would have attributed as a bow from any other animal, before gliding out the window.
"See, Pig. That's how you ought to behave." Harry addressed the smaller owl again (Willow puzzled why such a tiny bird would be called Pig, but kept her comments to herself). The animal seemed to be insulted at his comment, and finally headed towards Harry's desk. "Thank you, Pig!" The small animal puffed itself up proudly and Willow had to suppress an image of the other owl rolling its eyes. "Both of you can take a drink and a snack if you'd like. And would you mind bringing these back to the Weasleys?"
He gave the owls a package almost as large as the one that'd been delivered. With an appraising eye, the first owl cooperated as much as it was able. Pig, however, took to zooming around the ceiling, until quick-as-lighting, Harry reached up a hand and caught the bugger. "You're going to take this back to Ron, Pig." His voice was entirely serious, and within a few (only semi-hectic) moments, the two were off again.
"Christmas fun?" Willow joked.
"Yeah. Presents for Ron and some of his family." Harry answered. "What could be more fun than a hyperactive owl and its oh-so-tortured owl-sitter?" Willow giggled at his statement, and a short while later, both were situated in bed.
Christmas morning seemed to drag on for hours...well, since it technically did drag on for hours, Willow supposed that it felt like it dragged on for more hours than it did. Dudley was given a huge number of (rather expensive) presents. Harry was given a few gifts that were entirely unsuited to the boy, but he gave the impression that he was very grateful towards the Dursleys anyway. Willow received a new thick, blank scrapbook and a mountain of supplies for it. She'd filled the last one, and had been planning to buy another because of the mass of pictures she had left. She'd told Petunia the fact, as well, and she'd promised to take the girl out to get supplies, but had been unable. She nearly cried at the sight of it, extremely pleased that her godmother had remembered over the course of the months how much she'd wanted to make a second book. Aunt Petunia evidently put a lot of thought into what Willow might need, nothing (even frivolous things that Willow might have lusted after, but wouldn't have bought) wasn't there for her use if she wished to make good of them.
After a gorgeous brunch that Petunia set up for the family, Willow waited excitedly for Xander to arrive. This would be one time that'd be on time picking her up, and she was ready (oh, so ready) to spend time with him again. She was even still in a light disbelief that he was even there. How had he managed to afford the trip over? Where'd he get the money? Willow ventured a few guesses, but none really fit entirely. She, thus, planned to ask him the second he came through the door, regardless of however impolite it might seem to the Dursleys.
This plan was immediately forgotten when Xander arrived. After another period of hugging, they headed out. Willow almost asked Xander to stay when she saw Harry silently slink up the stairs as they headed out, but her excitement overwhelmed what may have been concern for her friend. The two Scoobies headed towards the car Xander had obviously driven there. Both of them erupted into laughter when they took a seat on the wrong side of the car. After fixing the situation, Xander started driving.
They chatted amiably and Willow found that she was thoroughly uncaring of where they went, so long as she got to spend time with Xander on the way. "Hey, Wills, we're gonna go ahead and go back to my hotel. I left your present there. 'Kay?"
"Sure, Xan." Willow answered giddily, wondering what more he could possibly give her. "I kinda already mailed your present to Sunnydale." Willow added as an afterthought, and Xander grinned. Unbeknownst to Willow, Xander's thoughts weren't focused on any kind of present that he was going to receive, but on the present that he was about to show to Willow. If she didn't have a heart attack, she was going to kill him for not giving it to her earlier.
Willow was shocked when they pulled into the driveway of an actual home, not some kind of hotel. Xander opened the door for Willow, and opened the door for her. She stepped out numbly, staring at the small, but very cozy home before her. Xander led her inside and opened the door for her. Inside the first was the living room. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and to her surprise, there was someone on the couch enjoying it. Someone whose back-of-head wasn't familiar to Willow.
It was a brutal shock, though, when the figure turned and stood. Willow struggled for breath at the sight of the familiar mask; she stumbled back a few steps and fell against the corner of the front wall and a wall separating the front room and another. She reached out, and accidentally pulled Xander down with her, and the other boy did his best to get between Willow and the haunting figure. It wasn't an easy action seeing as how they were both on the floor, but he did his best in any case.
"You." A cold voice spoke...but not a male's...and a familiar one at that. "What do you think you're doing here? Get away from them." A small dagger whizzed across the room, skimming the masked man's arm before imbedding in the opposite wall. He immediately, grabbed the wound, a reflex, and left himself vulnerable for another attack. "I won't miss again." The icy voice was obviously speaking in promise (as proven by a glint from the firelight on another weapon), and everyone in the room realized it. And the man disappeared much like he had months and months ago in Willow's old home.
Willow-and-Xander's hero walked into the firelight, but Willow hadn't needed her to. She'd know that voice anywhere. She struggled to stand once more. "Buffy!" Willow practically flew across the room. Buffy did the same, and they crashed into one another (nearly falling over) in a hug that left both of them breathless. "Buffy, you're here, too."
"Hey Wills!" Buffy answered with just as much enthusiasm as her best friend. "Didja miss me?" She gave an impish smile to her best friend, knowing that Willow had, of coursed, missed her.
"Nope." Willow teased the blonde in turn.
"Well, then, I hope that you might've missed me just a bit." This last was the last that Willow could take. Just as she'd expected, there was Giles standing behind her, a familiar lopsided smile ready for the redhead. A man that was more father to Willow in two years than her biological father had been in seventeen, and Willow reached out, almost blindly, and clung to him tightly. "Shall I take that as a yes, then?"
It wasn't long before all of them were sitting. Willow, finally nestled nearest to the family she made herself, burst into tears soon after. A mix of happiness, the loneliness she hadn't realized she'd been suffering leaving, and a hundred other factors, some she couldn't even name, was the source of her tears. Thankfully, everyone understood, and for the first time in a long time, Willow was just held.
"So, what's going on in Sunnydale, and how were all of you able to get over here...who's doing the Slay thing?" Willow asked a couple of hours later, after regaining control of herself.
"Faith is." Buffy answered. "She's probably also keeping my mom company."
"Oh...did she not want you to come over on Christmas?" Willow asked in a somewhat small voice.
"Oh, as soon as she knew it was for you, she was glad to let me go. But I asked Faith to stop by...had to make sure that she didn't get lonely. Besides, I think that it's good for Faith, too. She seems lonely." Buffy answered, thinking of the only other Slayer on the planet. "But enough about Faith. We're here for the you-ness that is Willow."
"And I'm still kinda a little bit stunned that you are. Whose home is this?"
"That would be mine." Giles answered. "I lived here long before the Council sent me to Sunnydale."
"This place is beautiful." Willow replied.
"And you'll have the keys to it. Any time you'd like to stay here, you're welcome to this place any time you'd like to come." Giles answered, and Willow was left at a loss once more.
"Thanks, Giles."
"Consider it a Sunnydale away from home." Giles answered. "Oh, yes, and we do have something else for you...but it's not a person this time."
Willow, wondering wildly what on earth they could give her that could possibly make this day better, was led by Buffy down the hall. Xander covered her eyes tightly with his hands. Giles opened the door (though Willow couldn't see this), and Willow was led into another room. Willow was very glad Xander was behind her when she was able to open her eyes, because the room swirled around her, and she stumbled backwards, in the second faint in as many days.
(a/n: sigh I so should be studying Psychology. You people are bad for my major. .)