Summary: Yet another Halloween fic. With demons.
Disclaimer: I own... hmm. I own nothing. The bank owns any money I make, at the moment.
Feedback: Why not? It helps me write more and better...
Pre-fic Comments:
I've got an offer for you all.
Write a crossover fic (crossed with a world from a list that I will supply) of at least 10 kilobytes, and I'll write another part in any of my fics that you ask for.
Email me privately if you're interested.
* * *
Cordelia smirked as Willow fainted.
"My God, all that study finally impacted on her," Harmony Kendall said, approaching the group. "What a nerd."
"Harmony, pass me your perfume bottle?," Cordelia said sweetly. The blonde took the request as a compliment and gave the little glass bottle to Queen C.
Cordelia uncapped it and waved it underneath Willow's nose. With a sneeze, the hacker woke up.
"Hey!," Harmony protested. "What are you doing? That cost me fifty bucks!"
"Well," Cordelia shrugged, "I was going to go get some smelling salts. Then I figured, why bother when I could get something worse from you?"
"That was better perfume than you could buy!," Harmony flared.
"It was five dollars from K-Mart," Cordelia said flatly. "I was there when you bought it."
"Oh."
"Willow?," Xander asked, crouching by his friend. "What's wrong?"
"He's here, he's here, he's here," Willow began babbling, grabbing Xander's shirt and pulling him further down. "You gotta save me!"
"What's the problem?," Buffy asked. "He can't be that bad."
Ford looked distinctly embarassed.
"He can't, right?," Xander asked, looking up from Willow.
"Uh... we don't let Uncle John out in public without someone chaperoning him," Ford admitted.
Xander's mouth dropped open in amazement. "Finally, someone with a more screwed up extended family than me!"
Ford looked around in desperation, then noticed something...
"Why have you got slit pupils?," he asked Cordelia.
Queen C blinked. "They're called contacts, loser. Look into them."
Buffy looked around nervously. She'd just met an old friend, and now it was all tense... although the tension had lessened slightly as Cordelia departed with her Cordette in tow. She decided to derail the train of conversation. "This is great! Well, I mean, it's hard, sudden move, all your friends, delicate time, very emotional, but let's talk about me! This is great!"
"So, you two were sweeties in fifth grade?," Willow asked, smiling at the chance to take her mind off her own troubles and listen to someone elses.
"Not even," Buffy snorted. "Ford wouldn't give me the time of day."
"Well, I was a manly sixth-grader," Ford said. "I couldn't bother with someone that young."
"It was terrible," Buffy continued rambling. "I moped over you for months. Sitting in my room listening to that Divinyls song 'I Touch Myself'."
The Slayer caught herself short, suddenly realising the connotations of the song title. She looked over at Xander and Willow. One was smirking, and the other was blushing madly.
"Of course, I had no idea what it was about," she rapidly backpedalled. Time to change the topic of conversation again... "Hey, are you busy tonight? We're going to the Bronze, it's the local club, and you have to come."
"I'd love to!," Ford smiled. "But if you guys already had plans... Would I be imposing?"
"No, only in the literal sense," Xander shrugged. Maaan... he wished he could decide on a girl. But until then, he was going to make sure that his options were kept open.
"Okay, then! I, I gotta find the admissions office, uh, get my papers in order," Ford stuttered.
Willow smiled at the phrase, normally used as a euphimism to write one's will and get one's affairs in order.
"Well, you know what, I'll take you there, and I'll see you guys in French!," Buffy smiled, taking Ford's arm.
"It was good to meet you," the stranger said politely to the others.
Xander affected a falsetto. It was scarily close to Buffy's speaking voice. "'This is Ford, my bestest friend of all my friends! Jeez, doesn't she know any fat guys?!"
"Oh, that's what that song is about?!," Willow said, wide eyed.
"What song?," Xander asked.
"Uh... that song... that Buffy mentioned," Willow answered.
"That's what most pop music is about," Xander shrugged. "Hey, you're not looking too hot, Wills..."
The redhead looked up resolutely. "I'm fine!"
Xander looked at her levelly. "Your hands shake."
Willow jammed her betraying appendages in her pockets. "Class, mister!"
* * *
Willow jumped as someone tapped on her balcony door's window, going from a light doze to all eight cylinders moving. She jumped out, clad in a nightie, and pulled the curtain to one side.
"Oh! Angel," she said, opening the door. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to talk to you," the Irish undead said calmly.
"Oh, well...," Willow said, thinking. Well, if anything did go wrong, she could probably go out of the room. She was only inviting him into her room, not the rest of the house, right?
Willow beckoned him in, then waited. "Well?"
"I can't," Angel said simply. "Unless you invite me, I can't come in."
"Oh!," Willow exclaimed. She hadn't remembered that. This was a big step, inviting a... well, a vampire into her /bedroom./ "Well, okay, I invite you. To come in."
She jumped as she saw one of her bra's lying in plain sight on her floor. She leapt on it like a kitten on a bit of paper and stuffed it in her wardrobe.
"I-if this is a bad time, I...," Angel began.
"No! I just... I'm not supposed to have boys in my room," Willow admitted.
"I promise to behave myself," Angel said.
"Okay. Good," Willow said. She wasn't as nervous as she might be -- she had that super undead speed now, right?
The Irishman paused, looking at her. Something was wrong. Her body language screamed nervousness, but it was more an edgy anticipation of...
Of hunting.
He put two and two together.
"Willow, have you been eating properly? Giles told me about what happened."
* * *
Post-fic Comments:
This is the point where you argue for or against a Willow/Angel 'ship.