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:: Chapter 6: ...and Demons in Leather ::
Anya sighed as she closed up the Magic Box, growing increasingly aggravated as she fumbled with the large bundle of keys that contained the means of locking the back door. She was nearly on the verge of just throwing the whole batch at the door when her hands finally got ahold of the singular key she needed for the task, and she sighed in relief. Like so many of the ones before it, this had not been a good day.
Sure, she'd had a reasonable expectation that Giles would want to be involved with the dealings of the new vampire witch that was in town, but she'd been expecting him to do so from back in England, sitting on a fancy arm chair and sipping his tea with his head buried behind one of the books from his 'personal collection'. And if he did plan on popping back into town to make a big fuss of things like the rest of them were, Anya had expected to be informed of the fact well in advance, and be apologized to at least moderately for her silent business partner's lack of silence. Instead, she had arrived the other morning to find the place of her livelihood opened without her knowledge, facing off against a Giles-shaped burglar with a broom in hand and landing a few decent blows before she was actually made aware of the older man's presence in town. At that point she was frankly proud of the decently shaped lump she had caused to form on his head.
But her annoyance now didn't come with the man's general presence, after all she didn't have much personal against him aside from his lack of business acumen, even if he was currently egregiously intruding the privacy of her shop. It was that he was staying, that everyone was glad he was staying, and that no one had even bothered to think of what Anya might have felt about the idea. No, instead she was just reminded of her unreasonableness whenever she complained about the arrangement – an accusation she still heartily refuted. She'd never expect them to actually listen to her if they had asked, of course, but it the fact that it hadn't even occurred to them to ask, and that Buffy had responded with "Why would I have done that?" when Anya had been angry at her not for asking. It felt like a slap to the face to the vengeance demon, and a sharp reminder that she was the outsider in the group. She had always been the outsider, ever since Xander had shattered her heart, and arguably long before then too. But just a few days ago, as they had sat in the Magic Box crying together and grieving for Willow, she had thought for a second that maybe she wouldn't be one anymore. That perhaps their shared pain could bring them together again, could remind them that her heart was still a little human.
But no. Even now, as she willingly let close to a hundred dark arts books hog up most of the apartment space, for their sake. Took on the massive target such a move put on her back when she could so easily have just walked away, for their sake. Advised them, helped them, worried for them as they faced a vampire she herself had no desire to harm. Spent countless nights thinking of ways she could talk the redhead down if it ever came to it, all for their sake. Even now. She was nothing but an outsider. And the man who had left them to face their personal demons for the last year was such a saint…
Anya sighed as she turned the block from the Magic Box, starting to grow annoyed with her own irritability about this topic. She'd just started to consider a risky teleport back to her apartment – something she was now being monitored for after her 'misuse' earlier that week – when she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and an eerie call of magicks come to her attention. She could recognize the magicks anywhere, it was as if they cast a near invisible emerald tint into the air, accompanied by the sharp taste of metal on her tongue. The waves of magicks were soon accompanied by the feel of a presence some distance behind her, and Anya instinctively tensed. She felt more than heard the rhythmic tapping of boots; slow, calm, and attentive, like a lion casually eying prey. And yet, what Anya had felt was not a predatory probe of magicks, it was a call to her. This lion was only making itself known to her, reaching out to her, and it was now Anya's turn to decide how to answer…
"I can't touch her," She'd said to Buffy, "And I don't think I really want to…"
And she didn't. She couldn't. Never in the way Buffy wanted, never with the confidence and maliciousness that the Slayer's plan would surely require. And never otherwise, either. She would never get through the layers of hedonism that protected the demon's heart, ever truly make her do anything she didn't already want. She couldn't change her. Not even a soul could really change her... She was still, always, just Willow.
But as Anya prepared herself to ready a teleport – already forming an appropriate excuse – her mind trailed off to the defeated faces that were continually worn by her human friends, and the countless nightmarish daydreams that had occupied her thoughts the last few days. Nightmares involving red hair and lips colored in blood from familiar necks, and a useless teary demon left standing at the sidelines, carrying no power other than to watch it all happen.
She really didn't want to. But maybe… Maybe she would have to. For their sake.
Anya felt the fast, phantom thumping of a nonexistent heart in her chest as she came to a sudden stop, and waited. She heard boots continue towards her for a few more steps, eventually coming to a halt as well, still a respectable distance away. They stood in silence, with nothing but the sounds of the two demons uselessly intaking breath out of nothing more than habit. Willow was waiting, Anya guessed, checking to see if the vengeance demon had responded to her call, or had just chosen to stop willy-nilly. A handful of seconds passed in continued silence before Anya sighed in impatience. She really wasn't interested in wasting the rest of her night just for the demon to get over its social anxiety…
Her impatience was seemingly awarded, or perhaps punished, by the sound of a sharp object cutting through the air behind her, and Anya swiftly turned around to catch the thrown weapon in one hand. The blade stopped a mere inch from her face, and she could smell the strong scent of dried blood emanating from the tip. She frowned, already starting to regret her choice. This was hardly a way to greet a friend…
"Nice catch," came an amused response, and scarlet hair finally made its presence known, emerging from what seeming like thin air. The light grin the vampire wore was at a stark contrast to the grimace on Anya's face. "Hi." was all the apology the vampire offered for her behavior as she creeped closer. Her emerald eyes seem to come alight in the darkness, accentuated by the green turtle neck that peeked out from under a familiar leather jacket.
"You attacked me!" Anya replied, stunned. In all the possible scenarios she had contemplated for their next meeting, she hadn't really been expecting this. A part of her felt rightly threatened, maybe even a little frightened, but the halfhearted attack coupled by the smug grin worn by the vampire resulted in her feeling quite pissed off instead. "That's not a very nice thing to do, Willow." She growled in annoyance, her plans on handling the encounter with some 'finesse' now easily thwarted by her bad day somehow only getting worse. The vampire just shrugged in response, grin only getting wider as if in agreement, and gave an indifferent apology as Anya continued to grumble. This just seemed like a big joke to her, and Anya was not much of a fan of being attacked for fun. "Were to trying to kill me with…" she trailed, looking down at the dirty weapon in her hand, …scissors?
"Oh, come on, I'm not that stupid." Willow assured her with a roll of her eyes as she moved to perch herself against a nearby wall, still keeping herself at a safe distance as she observed Anya with keen eyes. The vengeance demon didn't know if she was impressed or sickened by the blade in her hands, a dilemma she had now started to associate with the redhead in front of her. In just a few days, her blunt store scissors had been transformed almost beyond recognition. Layers of dried blood and grime now thoroughly coated the metal, some making its way onto the handle as well. Anya even thought she saw a small chip in one of the blades, and shuddered to think what might have caused it. "Are you?" The demon suddenly asked in a low voice, ripping Anya from her unsettling examination. Anya looked up at the vampire in confusion, blinking for a few seconds as she struggled to recall what she'd been asked. The redhead's face was now devoid of any of the amusement it had held seconds ago, her eyes carefully watching Anya for a response.
Once the words reached her mind, the vengeance demon began to understand the coarseness of their introduction, and the mixed signals coming from the vampire's voice. It seemed that Willow wasn't quite sure what to make of Anya, just as Anya hadn't been sure of her in their last encounter. She was studying her, as Anya imagined she might have studied others in her human days, although probably without using as many weapons. This, at least, Anya had some ability to control. She knew what Willow was now, where she had been uncertain before. She was still Willow, a friend she cared for, but now also a dangerous one. One that scared her other close friends, with good reason. One she wanted to protect them from without wanting to harm either. One she wanted to reach out to. To understand. To help, even if she couldn't be helped. And she needed to tell the demon as much before any more misused stationary was hurled at her face.
Astute green eyes still studied her silently, probably waiting for a sign to pounce or relax. "Of course not," Anya scoffed at the question, a little offended at the thought, "Why do you think I let you trail along behind me long enough to attack?" She continued, holding up the scissors as if in evidence. The reminder of the attack, coming more so in the form of smell than sight, reignited some of her earlier irritation. "Which, once again, very rude." She reminded, wanting to be very clear on the boundaries of this relationship moving forward. Willow seemed to relax considerably at the words, even letting a small smile adorn her lips as her gaze softened. Anya's own frown lightening at the sight as she considered that her answer seemed to have mattered to the redhead. Perhaps she was a little touchable after all…
"Good. I like you…" Willow purred, coming a few steps closer. The tone would have struck Anya as almost predatory if the accompanying face hadn't been devoid of malice. Green eyes were twinkling slightly in a way she had only rarely seen at the Magic Box. Anya, a bit flustered by the redhead's admission, was just about to remind the vampire of her lack of interest in the fairer sex when Willow finally emerged into the light, causing the vengeance demon to pause in her thoughts. She was more than a little surprised to notice the slightest of dark rings under emerald eyes, just barely noticeable under pale skin. Anya hadn't known vampires were capable of being sleep deprived, and couldn't imagine what in the world was driving this one to being so. Maybe Buffy really is getting to her… She wondered in distaste, not liking how much her friends were hurting each other. The demon's eyes tore away from Willow's face to examine the rest of her outfit, and her thoughtful frown immediately transformed into an amused smile.
"You really are a thief aren't you," Anya muttered, almost wanting to laugh at the sight. The leather jacket she had noticed a few minutes ago was indeed quite familiar, if a little oversized for the petite redhead. In fact, Anya could quite distinctly remember the feel of the material against her skin…
"Oh this," Willow motioned, shrugging at the jacket as if to nudge it back into place on her smaller body, seemingly unconcerned with how it draped off her loosely, "A bit of a temporary fix, for sure…" She allowed with a small sheepish smile, shrugging again, "I guess I kinda get my doppelganger's dress code now… Though the corset's probably a bit much for me." She added with a playful grin, "I still like to pretend to breathe. Kinda soothing..." Her grin turned into a thoughtful smile for a second as she furrowed her brows in contemplation, "Also, you know, important for the whole talking thing, I guess…" She mused under her breath. Her gaze seemed to look through Anya as she began to consider the logistics of speaking without breathing, and she grew engrossed enough to lift a hand to chin, before suddenly regaining her focus, and turning to Anya with a small frown. "And I'm definitely not a thief!" Willow exclaimed, seemingly slighted by the accusation, much to Anya's amusement, "Spike just left it lying around when he ran off… And I did get your scissors back!" She pointed to the object still held in Anya's hands, as if she would have to be reminded that they once belonged to her. "So really not much of a thief." She concluded, crossing her arms resolutely. Emerald eyes turned away from Anya, and Willow frowned in concentration once again. "Haven't we had this conversation before?" She muttered mostly to herself.
"I believe it was around the time you summoned a troll and trashed my shop," Anya answered, still amused by the slight rambling of the dangerous demon, starting to feel more at ease as she witnessed traces of the Willow she had once befriended. "And they're dirty!" Anya argued with a new frown, holding up the stationary in question, her irritation over the filthy scissors now quickly resurfacing with the growing familiarity of their exchange. "You defiled my scissors…" She repeated grumpily, unable to resist a small shudder as the scissors provided a nauseatingly sticky resistance when she tried to open them. "What did you cut with these anyway…" She muttered, her nose scrunched up in abhorrence, not quite sure if she wanted to be answered. As comfortable, even satisfied, as she normally would be with seeing the gore this blade had no doubt been used for, the mere thought of getting her hands involved in the actual process, rather than just thinking it, left a sickly feeling in her stomach.
"Oh, wouldn't you like to know?" Willow grinned back, clearly enjoying the other demon's clear disgust for the object in her hands. Anya sense of familiarity deflated as some of the new Willow made her reappearance, the curious sparkle in her eyes replaced with a less innocent one, emerald now merging with yellow. "You want me to get you another pair?" She offered, extending her hand accept the object back, "I wouldn't mind. I actually kinda like these…" Anya almost shuddered again at the thought of the scissors being soiled any further, and silently decided she would much rather throw the pair away than live with the constant thought of what was being done with them.
"You know…" Willow mused once the decision had been made, creeping closer as she let her hand fall back to her side, a dangerous smile on her lips. "I was almost hoping you wouldn't catch them, to be honest." She admitted, eyes her dancing flames of gold. Anya watched the shift in the vampire's stance, along with her less welcoming words, her frown of disgust slowly turning into one of uneasiness. She'd hung around enough vampires through the years to become familiar with the ease with which threats were always made, but knowing it came natural to the redhead didn't really make it any less uncomfortable. "A splash of color from some demon blood is probably what it needs to make it pop, you know?" Willow continued with a casual grin, her voice inching lower with every word, "Red on red on red… needs some contrast after a while." She continued her slow tread toward the vengeance demon, who's stoic eyes betrayed none of the increasing stiffness of her shoulders. "And you did take the rest of my books, you know…" Willow whispered from inches away, her grin suddenly vanishing into a stiff smile, as displeased golden eyes locked onto the other demon. Anya involuntarily tensed as the demon lowered its head to stop inches above her neck, delivering a final hot whisper in her ear, "That's a bit of a problem, Ahn. I really needed those…"
Boundaries! Anya reminded herself, resisting the urge to jump from under the vampire's hot breath, I thought we were clear on the boundaries!
"Look, Willow." Anya started with a sigh, her voice not betraying how uncomfortable the demon's vague threats were making her, especially when combined with the more comfortable exchange they'd just had a few seconds ago. She wasn't truly concerned though, knowing that vampires typically shied away from demon violence, even if this one had greeter her with it. The vengeance demon forced steady hands to land on the vampire's shoulders, gaining some comfort through the feel of familiar leather under her finger tips, and pushed Willow back in one swift motion, moving her back to arm's length. "I get the whole macho evil villain routine…" The demon continued, the traces of unease in her eyes probably betraying her somewhat as the vampire raised a brow at her remark. "You vamps always go for the leather and the bad boy look and the annoyingly haughty threats…" She listed with the roll of her eyes and an annoyed sigh, "I swear it's like everyone's competing to be the next big evil… More than a little tiring, really." She met Willow's eyes with a stern look, pleased with herself at the surprise painted on redhead's face. "But this whole threatening me thing…" She concluded determinedly, "Not going to go too well if you want me to be your friend."
"Oh." Willow uttered in little more than a whisper, backing away a step with a stunned look on her face. The vampire took a few seconds to look away with a thoughtful frown, the fire in her eyes fading back to a familiar green. "I'm sorry. I wasn't-" She fumbled, turning to Anya with a slightly confused expression as she struggled with her words. "That was a joke… I-I think." She muttered with furrowed brows, running a hand through her hair and sighing in frustration. "I… can't really tell sometimes." Willow admitted, turned to her with unsure eyes and managing a small halfhearted smile. "I guess I was a little nervous…?" She tried with a shrug.
"And you accompany that with unsettling threats rather than your usual avalanche of words?" Anya asked with a raised brow, falling back into her comfort zone, but growing increasingly tired with the demon's Jekyll and Hyde routine. She hadn't quite seen vampires act quite this way in her previous social interactions – not nearly as awkwardly, at least – and she smiled at the thought despite herself. I guess Willow will always be Willow…
"Really though, it's not like the babble's much better…" Willow grumbled with an irritated frown, obvious frustrated at her fleeting display of what she might consider weakness.
"Well, stop it!" Anya insisted, wanting to be clear about what she would tolerate from the redhead. "Not the babble necessarily…" She allowed after a second, not wanting to admit that it was more than a little comforting to hear from the vampire. "But I don't take kindly to empty threats." Her stern expression returned, and she hoped the slow smile making its way onto Willow's face was a sign of her understanding, though it didn't seem likely when paired with the glint in her eyes.
"Oh?" The demon asked back in a whisper, her smile slowly fading into a smirk, "What if they're not empty, then?" Anya chose to just stare at her, less than amused, and the smirk quickly vanished a few seconds later, replaced by a pensive and apologetic frown. "This isn't going too well is it…" Willow ventured with a sigh, looking more than a little defeated as she crossed her arms and glared off into the distance.
That much Anya could probably agree with. Well would have been a less emotionally taxing talk accompanied by a beer or two, but seeing as the other side of the spectrum would have resulted in Anya's scissors getting more colorful, she really wasn't one to complain with the current state of affairs. But as the redhead bid her farewell in her frustrated state, and the vengeance demon made her way back to her apartment, Anya decided she probably couldn't have expected a better encounter, sans the scissors. And that perhaps it had been worth some of the time spent, which she would rather have wasted in her waiting bed. And that maybe… some things were more than a little touchable after all…
Willow was more than a little surprised when she felt the vengeance demon's presence approaching her, responding to her call for the first time since their last encounter a few weeks ago. She hadn't really expected to see the demon now, had just chanced a call her way when she felt her nearby. But now, as she saw a silhouette make its way to where she was perched on a large tombstone, Willow felt a mixture of relief and anxiety. She'd been quite happy in avoiding Anya for a while now, feeling more than a little uncomfortable with their last meeting. Although she wasn't quite sure if she was upset at her 'haughty threats' having bothered the demon, or at the way Anya had managed to get under her skin.
For the first time since her rise, Willow had felt almost vulnerable under that gaze, something she hadn't been expecting to feel from any her old friends. She knew it was in part that the rest of them were humans; beneath her; her prey. She couldn't care less what they thought of her. Tara, maybe… But even Tara she thought she could control. Even Tara she could feel sinking to her will, signaled by that musical raise in her heartbeat. But Anya… Anya was beyond her. A legend, even if Willow hated to admit it. A thousand years stood against Willow's laughable 20, and the redhead could feel some part of her involuntarily assigning some seniority to that fact. But it was also who Anya was that made her valuable – a Scooby. A Scooby Willow wasn't too interested in harming, who didn't want to harm her either. It was a way in; beyond the glass of the living room window she had been peeking into every now and again. It was a friend on the other side. And also… a friend.
"What, run out of pointy stationary?" Anya quipped as she came into view, looking a bit disgruntled to be walking in a cemetery. Willow didn't really understand why she hadn't just teleported instead… "There're a lot left if you need ideas," She offered with a mask of indignance, though Willow could see in her eyes that she was more than a little pleased to be called, "Letter openers, pens… Could do some interesting things with a stapler I'd imagine." She listed absently, a frown forming on her lips as she no doubt imagined the mentioned objects in use, "Or you could just skip the middle man and bring me entrails," She muttered holding back a shiver, "Would probably be a lot less disturbing…"
Willow grinned at the demon, liking the sounds of her suggestions. She was suddenly glad she had decided to call on her now, a decision she had made only under the influence of her recent good mood owing to an encounter with Tara. She had expected Anya to act differently after how their last encounter had ended, to either ignore her call in reaction to her threats, or attempt to dominate her after her display of weakness. But instead, here she was casually standing before her, acting as Anya as she ever had. The thought came to Willow with a smile. She had forgotten who Anya really was in all of this mess. Forgotten that while she herself might have changed – and her perception of Anya had changed – Anya herself was still a constant. Anya was, at least in part, predictable. Anya was safe.
"Nah, too messy for me." Willow admitted to the other demon with a smile. She couldn't help a small chuckle at the skeptical look she received, no doubt owing to the arguably messy scissors from earlier. "I don't mean messy as in blood," Willow clarified, her body involuntarily buzzing as she thought of her sustenance, "I just don't like to dig much under the surface, you know?" She shrugged, "Too quick and too much cleanup; not much of a point."
The vengeance demon observed her for a few seconds with inquisitive eyes, mulling over her words, "No, that makes sense, I suppose." She allowed after a while, her posture relaxing, "I assumed with the scissors... But knowing you, it's probably just less efficient or something." She paused at that, as if affected by her own words, and some of the confusion reappeared on her face. Willow only observed her inquisitively, growing more and more curious to see what was happening in the demon's head. A part of her was pleased that she was able to confuse her so, even though it had never been too difficult in her human life, but another desperately wanted to attempt a probe into the demon's head, even at the risk of being caught. "Why am I here, Willow?" Anya asked suddenly, pulling the redhead out of her straying thoughts. She observed where Anya stood with crossed arms and a firm expression, not looking like she was much in the mood for games, and only smiled playfully in response.
Willow shrugged halfheartedly, tilting her head at her new acquaintance, "I don't know, Anya. You're the one who walked over here…" She grinned, "Never really figured the cemetery for being your scene." She continued to grin in the face of the unamused frown she received, but found it slowly thwarting the temptation of playfulness. She felt some of her excitement deflate, and frowned at the demon's stiffness. Willow was sure her words had been strictly of the non-threating variety, so why was Anya being such a spoilsport about it? She chose to half-glare at the demon for a few seconds, eventually giving in with a sigh, not wanting to ruin her good day this early. If this demon wanted her to stop playing then that's what she was going get. And she would just have to let Anya see on her own that a playful Willow was usually far more preferable to a serious Willow... "I guess I have some questions for you." She admitted, her voice now devoid of amusement. "Like I said. We don't have to be enemies."
"That's good, because I don't want that either, Willow." Anya answered with a small but sincere smile, oblivious to the drop in the vampire's mood. Willow wondered if she was going to spout the line about help again, the word she was constantly hearing in everyone else's minds. Her taut lips frowned and she felt fangs slightly protrude in displeasure. Everyone just wanted to help… "I have some questions too I think," Anya continued instead, relaxing further to lean against a nearby crypt as she faced the redhead, "I believe it's a common method of increasing familiarity among new friends. Typically also involving some tradition using ice…" The demon trailed off thoughtfully, lost in concentration for a second before shrugging away the thought, "but we can just skip that part I'm sure."
Willow just raised a brow at the demon, not so amused by her typical unintentional humor, but couldn't help her curiosity at what the demon might ask her. She wondered if she might find the answer to the confusion that had been brewing in Anya's head earlier. "The books…" the vengeance demon started after Willow had egged her on, now moving closer to seat herself on the surface of one of the larger rectangular grave stones. "I don't understand why you left them," Anya clarified, her eyes locked onto Willow's with an inquisitive look, "You could've taken anything you wanted, really…" She trailed, silently referring to things other than books that could have been taken that night, frowning in slight confusion, "But you just leave with strange threats, without spilling a drop of blood," Her frown deepened in annoyance as she added, "Though there were some other bodily fluids that were spilled…"
Willow just shrugged, a little surprised that Anya had bothered to dwell that much on her behavior, and even more surprised that she bothered to ask about it. She could tell back at the Magic Box that Anya had some idea as to the power she had held, and that she had seen her overpower the Slayer at the end of their encounter. But she had just expected her to think the same of her actions that Buffy had. To assume that she had held back only to guarantee things worse than death. To assume that she was following the footsteps of Angelus, reveling in the pain before the kill. Willow smiled. She was almost glad that Anya thought otherwise. It was always nice to have someone bother to look past the obvious.
"Yeah, I could have." Willow allowed, looking away as she shrugged, "But I didn't need all the books. I still don't. I can probably last another month working through what I have…" She faltered a bit, knowing a month was more than a little optimistic now with her growing nightly visits to the Summers house. "And I didn't want it either." She finished, opting to ignore Anya's question about Tara, something the demon really wasn't in a place to question about. Willow frowned as the other demon continued to stress that she didn't understand, not feeling particularly interested by the topic.
"It'd just be too obvious, Anya. Too easy." She attempted to clarify, "I know you get it, how powerful I am, but Buffy doesn't. And if I had all the books…" Willow trailed, her frown deepening as she considered the thought. She sighed in annoyance as memories of Buffy's cowardice against Glory, before she had taken Dawn, came to mind. That was exactly what Willow didn't want… "I don't want Buffy to just give up. I don't want her to run." She continued, …I want to see her squirm. "I want her to fight. To really fight. To think she can fight…" To see her shoulders sag more and more every time she tries. To be there watching as she finally realizes there's no point… Willow was grinning excitedly now despite herself as her thoughts wandered, her vision sharpening in a way that usually indicated the onset of her demon reemerging. Images of a despondent Slayer filled her mind. A tired blonde fruitlessly arguing for her friends to move out of town in her final fit of hopelessness; slowly watching as the others started to come to terms with the redhead's presence, believing that she meant them no harm. Maybe one day finding that she believed it herself…
And that was when the fun would start.
Willow knew it would take a while, that she would have to stay quiet while it happened, but time meant nothing when she had eternity. She could imagine herself silently pulling the strings behind their life once they had finally forgotten her… Hunting down each of Dawnie's crushes after their first kiss; throwing Xander's dates to be sired by vampire nests; visiting Tara's window every night until she caved in. And Buffy…
"I like to draw things out." Was all she said, forcing herself to suppress her grin back into a smile. "To be honest, I already feel like I pushed it a bit too far… She's not looking too motivated." Willow admitted playfully, recalling the defeated expression the Slayer had worn that night, as she napped on a pile of books on the dining room table.
"You probably did." Anya agreed, and Willow almost jumped at her voice, having nearly forgotten that the demon was still there. She noticed the demon seemed to have quenched her curiosity and confusion, probably concluding that Willow was looking for some semblance of fair fight. But really, Willow had never been looking for a fight… "I think it's mostly that they don't understand…" Anya mused almost to herself, "Which makes sense when it's never happened before. No one with that much magick was ever…" She cut herself off at that with a frown when she finally turned to meet Willow's eyes, as if finally realizing who she was talking to, and closed herself off from revealing too much. Willow smirked. She was fine with that. She already knew what drove them mad. She'd been inside their heads after all…
"And then there's the whole junkie thing." Anya eventually continued with a shrug. Willow frowned at that and turned to her more attentively, not having overheard any such conversation. "I don't think it would've mattered much if you'd taken one book or fifty, or if you had been sired at all." She clarified, "They don't like you using the dark magicks..."
Willow let the words thicken the air around them. She hadn't thought of that. Thoughts of Tara now flooded her mind. Was this what had kept the other witch away from her? This dark magick, so at odds with the purity of Tara's magicks. Was this another obstacle she would have to cross before the witch gave herself to Willow? "But…" Willow's hated the vulnerability that coated her voice, but thoughts of her love overpowered her need to hide her weakness. "I don't really have a choice." She admitted with a worried frown, turning towards the vengeance demon with all the sincerity she could muster. She would have to tell Tara. Have to explain. Have to hope that the witch would understand. And if she doesn't… Willow felt herself tense at the thought. She couldn't change… Not this. Anything but this. "It's the only thing I can use…" The whisper came.
Anya just stared at the vampire in confusion, starting to list off the number of natural magicks Willow could use instead, and the redhead sighed as she sensed the need to explain further. "The natural magicks, they're not..." Willow started, having trouble explaining exactly what she had felt during her very first attempt to cast, back in the morgue. "I can't really access them anymore." She continued, sighing again as she realized that wasn't exactly accurate either, "Well I can, but… they're hard to control." Willow's frown deepened, "They don't want me to control them…" She raised a hand palm-up to stare at her fingers, willing the natural magic to spark. When nothing emerged but a blinding ache in her fingers, she instead turned to the dark magicks, watching as the blackish blue sparks danced around her fingers. "The darkness is the only thing I can touch." She whispered, feeling the familiar buzz of the magicks in her body, not able to restrain the emergence of a sad smile on her lips, "The only thing that wants to touch me…"
When Anya stayed silent for another few seconds, Willow shook herself out of her momentary lapse of clarity, forcing a larger smile on her lips as she pushed back against the emotion brewing in her chest. "It'd be easier if I could." She admitted with a little shrug, forcing life back into her voice, "Less tiring. Less fighting to keep the magicks from taking over all the way." She turned to Anya with a smile, the demon in her immediately disgusted by the sadness and pity that Anya wore on her face, "But, you know," she continued casually, "creature of the darkness in more ways than one, I guess…"
Willow felt her still heart ache in the silence that followed, her teeth gritting as she continued to fight emotion. She wasn't meant to feel emotion. It wasn't hers to feel anymore. Wasn't that how it worked? She closed her eyes and sighed, wondering if the ache was just her heart's silent longing for a stake.
"I believe you, you know", Anya suddenly exclaimed, breaking Willow out of her exhausting thoughts. Willow frowned as she felt herself settle back into conversation, wondering how she had managed to make her good day worse. She asked Anya to clarify with a stiff voice. "That you're you," Anya explained with a smile, this time thankfully lacking in any pity, "That you're Willow." She continued in a soft voice, her smile vanishing as she became more earnest, "That you love her..."
Willow remembered why she had been avoiding Anya now. It was moments like this. Like when the demon had called out on her playful threats in their last meeting, making her feel insecure for the first time in her new life. Like when she had drawn her into a brief sense of security, getting her to admit her failings with light magick. Like now, when Willow felt like she could almost sob in blinding relief.
Anya had no right to moments like these. Willow had felt them before, at the Magic Box. Felt the rush of human emotion as Tara drew her out of her nearly violent outburst at Buffy. Felt it many times after that whenever she thought of or saw the brunette witch. Those emotions were Tara's to unearth. Tara's to witness. Tara's to cement with her blood. But Anya… She had no right to make Willow feel this way. Make her feel this human.
"Sometimes I don't…" And yet somehow the whisper came from her lips, barely audible to her own ears. She sighed at the admittance, adamant in her refusal to let the emotions manifest in the form of her tears. She felt the touch on her arm, and turned to see Anya standing next to her, encouraging her to continue. Willow nearly turned away at that moment out of how pathetic the demon in her felt. Looking so weak in front of someone she couldn't afford to show weakness to. But as she gazed into auburn eyes, she couldn't help but feel for a second that perhaps she could afford to show weakness. That maybe she didn't need to put on, as Anya had called it, her "macho evil villain routine". That maybe Anya did have a right to these moments. That maybe… Anya was a friend.
"Believe it." Willow continued, not having the strength to look the vengeance demon in the eyes for fear of letting the liquid drip down her cheek, "Believe that I'm her… Me." She sighed as her voice shook, clenching her jaw to urge some strength back in her body. "I have… all these memories. All these emotions…" She whispered, trying her best to explain as she gazed off into the distance, keeping her voice low in hopes of keeping it stable. "But when I reach out to touch them…" She extended a hand into the air as if to demonstrate, clenching it into a fist. "Poof." She whispered, "Nothing."
"What if I'm not?" Willow asked to no one in particular, no longer able to stop her babbling lips now that she had started, "What if…" She gazed down onto the hands in her lap, bringing one up closer to her face. She stared at the palm, at the wrinkle lines that trailed in familiar patterns, at the hand she remembered being clasped in Tara's for a playful reading of her fortune. She stared for what felt like eternity, barely able to force out the words in the faintest of whispers, "What if she's dead, and I'm just… a thing?" She closed her eyes as her voice cracked, letting her hand fall back into her lap as she turned up to gaze at the empty sky, "Who am I?" She asked the Goddesses in a desperate whisper.
"You're Willow." Anya replied with the most confidence. Willow could only swallow the bulge of emotion that had gathered in her throat and sigh. "You're Willow because you like doing illegal things with your laptop, and learning about spells, and stealing from the Magic Box." Anya continued, sounding almost annoyed as she listed the human Willow's qualities, "And you like feeling powerful even when it frankly gets destructive…" The vengeance demon trailed off, and Willow felt the reappearance of a hand on her arm, and turned to look into Anya's understanding eyes. "And you're Willow because you question yourself." She whispered earnestly with a small smile, "Willow would do that." Willow felt the grip on her arm tighten reassuredly as she finally felt moisture touch her cheeks, "She would wonder if something was wrong with her even when it clearly isn't, while somehow likely ignoring the things that are wrong with her..." Anya trailed off at the end again, seemingly forgetting her intentions to reassure the vampire, before shaking herself out of it and continuing, "Non-Willow, demon or human, wouldn't do any of those things."
Willow felt a smile emerge on her lips, even as they trembled slightly, and quickly wiped any evidence of weakness off her cheeks. She sighed, willing herself to not be ashamed of her outburst, and letting Anya's words sink in to clear a conflict that had been welling in her for weeks. "I don't really get why you help me." She admitted after a few minutes, finally having regained some of her composure.
"It's what friends do." Was all Anya answered with.
"I just don't get the scissors!" Anya suddenly exclaimed, slapping a hand on the table with a loud thud.
Willow raised a brow at her in confusion, feeling like her monopoly on sudden tangents was being threatened. She grinned as she smelt the scent alcohol on the vengeance demon's breath, making a note to have the waitress cut Anya off on her next run about. She herself wasn't feeling nearly as inebriated as her friend apparently was, feeling more than a little happy with Anya's decision to settle into the bar after the redhead's rather emotional moment. "You don't get the scissors?" Willow repeated with a smile, preparing herself to dive into the unexpected turn of their discussion. The last hour or so of casual conversation had settled them both into a rather comfortable tempo, sometimes even talking about the most benign, boring things they'd forgotten to share back when they had both been human.
"Exactly," Anya continued in an exacerbated tone, growing more frustrated by the second, "You say you don't like messy, but your scissors are all… well, messy." She frowned at her own confusion, and Willow recognized the expression as the same one she had sensed earlier in their encounter, "And that would make sense with the blood that's wasted with getting messy, but your scissors are already messy!" She repeated, now nearly on the verge of yelling in the crowded bar as Willow winced at her tone, "So you're already wasting blood with the messy scissors, which doesn't make sense, because why don't you just go ahead and be messy, then?!"
"Okay," Willow whispered with a concerned frown, reaching for her beer, "You're getting cut off there, missy."
"I'm not drunk!" The next yell came.
"Yeah, I'm sure Ahn." Willow soothed with a little grin, "But see, we're not in a demon bar. Because, well, Willy." She motioned around the larger bar around them, and then at the semi-secluded booth they were seated in, "We're in a human bar." She whispered exaggeratedly, grin still in place, "And it's not really normal to be talking about blood at a human bar. So maybe you should just tone it down a little before it stops sounding like butchers' talk and starts sounding like vampire talk…"
Anya's frown lightened as she understood the words being whispered to her, and then suddenly deepened again, "Don't patronize me," She muttered, lifting finger at the vampire threateningly, but seemingly having come to her sense about the appropriate tone to use, "I am older than you, you know…" Willow playfully raised her hands up in surrender, not taking the threat very lightly. She still didn't feel the inebriating effect of the alcohol as she downed the rest of her beer, feeling only a light buzz that calmed her, and wondered if it was just a predator thing. "And I still don't get the scissors," Anya repeated after a few minutes, now considerably soberer.
"It's not really about the blood," Willow answered with a shrug, trying to understand her own reasons as well. She understood the point Anya was trying to make, at least somewhat. The scissors that had been returned had been bloodied on more than one occasion. Blood that had been wasted, that could have been licked fresh off the blade. But Willow thoroughly enjoyed the look of metal rusting with blood… "When I do something like that, when I used the scissors, it wasn't about the blood… It's not considered playing with food if you don't eat it, right?" She continued with a grin, enjoying the curious attention being given to her by the other demon. "The blood's nice, sure," She admitted with a shrug, "It's warm, keeps me alive, feels good trailing down your chin... But that's just food, Anya." She smiled, pausing in her explanation as a barmaid came to refill her drinks, thankfully pulling Anya's empty glass from her side. "It's not fun." Willow continued with a thoughtful expression, "Killing's not fun either. It's too… fleeting. Too easy and quick to be satisfying..." She furrowed her brows and frowned at the thought of her first kill, fresh from the coldness of death. She had never been proud of that one, but she'd hardly had a choice then, feeling close to deranged with that early thirst for blood… "When they die, I'm done with them… That's why no messy."
Anya stared at her thoughtfully, head propped up on her hand, and finally let out a small smile, "Okay... I get it." She accepted, and Willow was glad she wouldn't be subjected to more half-drunk yelling, "Why go for the kill when you can go for the pain…" Anya quoted, "It's a motto D'Hoffryn likes to use for the vengeance," She trailed off in thought, the smallest of frowns appearing on her face, "Just… I suppose we like to think they deserved it…" She whispered absently, her frown growing.
Willow didn't think the vengeance demon was frowning at her specifically, lost as she was in her distant gaze, but attempted to clear the air none the less. "Should I start doing background checks, then?" She joked with a grin, her amusement faltering when Anya's frown failed to lift.
"No…" She trailed with a small sigh, idly playing with a nearby napkin, "I think we usually follow that up by saying that everyone deserves it…" She rolled her eyes at the thought.
"You don't like it much anymore do you?" Willow concluded, realizing her guess had been right with the sudden tenseness that arose in the vengeance demon's shoulders. "The human thing got to you…" She continued with a sad smile, feeling more than a little sorry for the other demon. Anya just sighed and gave a little shrug in agreement. "You know I'd probably kill Xander for you, right?" Willow offered lightly, instantly regretting the words as they only worsened the demon's tenseness, "I wasn't going to do anything to him before," She attempted to reassure, "but if you wanted –"
"No! No, that's ok." Anya interrupted hurriedly, and Willow's frown dimmed as she was reminded of the fact that she shared this friend with the people she was planning to hurt. "It's just that..." Anya trailed with a dejected sigh, "I miss that you know. Daydreaming about nice massacres... Feeling satisfied after a long day of vengeance…" A small smile emerged as she recalled those pleasant memories, but it quickly returned into its previous configuration of a frown. "Now it's just… complicated." She admitted angrily, throwing the napkin in her hand at the nearby wall, "I keep thinking, 'what would Xander think', 'what would Buffy think?'" She all but growled, "And do they ever bother to think that? NO!" She sighed as the anger started to leave her, slumping back into her chair with a defeated frown, "And then Halfrek complains about how I'm not the great Anyanka anymore..." She continued in a low mumble, "And then it just gets upsetting."
Willow, feeling more than a little out of her element in comforting someone else of their evilness, hesitantly placed a hand on the demon's shoulder, waiting for her to meet her gaze. "Hey, everyone reaches a slump here and there." She assured with a smile, squeezing her shoulder, "You want me to give you a few wishes?" She offered, her smile slowly morphing into a little smirk as she whispered, "I can be very descriptive with the nitty gritty…"
A small smile emerged on the vengeance demon's lips as she considered the offer, but dimmed just a few seconds later, "Well, it's no fun if you want it too." She grumbled with a small sigh, "The fun's in the twisting of the wish, you know?" She leaned her head back in her hand, lost in thought, "And I mean, you don't even have any vengeance." She continued to mutter, growing more and more against the idea, "And even if you did, hello, gay. I don't really do the whole girl thing…"
Willow resisted the temptation to argue with the demon for discriminating in her vengeance, and chose to just lightly smile instead, slipping her a beer that had just been handed to her. "Sorry." She smiled, trying to channel as much of her human empathy as she could, "But hey, you have a blank check here if you're ever feeling down."
"Thank you Willow." Anya smiled at that as she sipped at her booze. Willow was suddenly more than thankful that the demon seemed to have channeled out most of her anger, not looking forward to hearing any more of the drunken yelling from earlier, "That… That means a lot to me." Anya admitted sincerely, reaching out to awkwardly pat at Willow's shoulder.
"Hey," Willow smiled happily, watching Anya down her glass and signaling for another, "What are friends for?"
Anya sighed as she slipped her vacuum cleaner into the crack between her wall the massive stack of books in front of it, grumbling about the towers of paper that were invading her house. For some reason Giles kept insisting to move over more and more of the powerful natural magick books in the Magic Box as well, despite Anya's protest that natural magick was useless. Anya took a moment to stretch, wondering how in the world such a mundane task as cleaning could be an impediment to a thousand-year-old demon. She had just turned the vacuum off for a well-deserved break when she heard the distinct sound of her bell ringing, followed closely by a few knocks on her door. It was a Scooby signal Anya instantly recognized, and she was about to just tell them to come in when she recalled the recent lock change in the building. Great. Now she had to get Buffy a new key too. As if her days weren't growing more and more busy already with babysitting Giles at the Magic Box…
She grumbled as she made her way to the door, and paused just as she was about to turn the handle. Something was off here… She could almost feel the air around her simmer, not from heat, but from… vengeance? Anya raised her brows, but instantly calmed. That was a little surprising, Halfrek must have had quite a busy day if she was so –
But it wasn't Halfrek who greeted her at the door. As Anya heard the door softy thud against the closest wall, for a few seconds she couldn't quite tell who it was that greeted her. She couldn't quite tell where she was. Or who she was. Or what was in front of her. All she could see was those eyes. Her entire world, surrounded by nothing but deep, piercing, black eyes.
She instinctively rushed to shut the door, not letting her brain think of much other than the seething hatred she could feel from those eyes, but found she couldn't quite move. She breathed. In. And out. Thinking that it must be the fear that was stilling her. But as she looked more clearly at the figure, focusing around the eyes at that striking red hear, now smattered with the occasional black strand, and then back at the sharp gaze of those black eyes, she realized the fear was the last thing that was stilling her.
"Stay," A familiar voice breathed in a dangerous tone that was far from familiar. Anya gulped as a small insincere smile creeped onto those lips, accompanied by the smallest tilt of her head. "We're all friends here…" Willow purred.
"Willow…" Anya whispered, finding herself just mobile enough to make the necessary motions to talk, "I don't know… what happened." She croaked, "But you… need to calm down." The increase of black strands in her hair informed Anya that that had not been the smartest thing to say.
"Oh, I'm calm." The vampire assured her, smile still in place, "In fact, I think I would probably have killed you by now if I wasn't so calm..." Anya felt her body being dragged closer to the door through the vampire's magicks, stopping close enough so that Willow's cold hand could clasp at her cheek, and whisper inches from her face, "Do you know why I would have killed you, Anyanka?" Willow asked tonelessly, her eyes seemingly sucking the soul out of the demon. It was all Anya could do to weakly shake her head. "Because you lied to me." Willow spat venomously, her grip on Anya's cheek now moving to clasp her throat, "You lied about me." She continued to hiss as her grip tightened. The grip on her throat, while not lethal as the demon had no need to breath, was more than a little uncomfortable, and gave Anya no chance to defend herself. She attempted a few voiceless croaks, until the grip tightened to stop even that much sound from escaping, now frighteningly close to be able to snap her neck, which would also be horribly painful.
Anya wished she had some idea of what she had done to upset the vampire, but she felt more than a little confused. She hadn't seen Willow since their second, and last, meeting at the cemetery. And she distinctly remembered that one ending well with an unwise amount of beer and dancing. So why in the world was her friend replacing her empty threats with very tangible ones?
"You're all the same," Willow continued to hiss, her eyes now beginning to glow red in rage, "You pretend you care, but you're just using me…" She shook her head, letting out a humorless laugh, "Friend. You had me going there for a while, you know." Her jaw clenched as her grip on Anya weakened, and she looked almost sad as the anger began to fade. "You really had me going there…" She murmured almost to herself.
Anya found herself dropped to the floor of the hallway leading to her apartment, and gasped to breath out of instinct. She knew if she spoke now it would only come out as a hoarse whisper, and she was not in the mood to be silenced again. She rubbed at her neck, sure it would leave a mark, as Willow began to pace the hallway.
"Angelus, Angelus. Everyone thinks I'm Angelus…" The vampire snarled as she paced, suddenly stopping in front of Anya and magickally raising her to her feet to look her in the eyes, "But I'm not Angelus, Anya." She whispered softly as she met Anya's cheek with a cold caress, her expression devoid of emotion, "Angelus was too soft. Too boring. You don't deserve Angelus." Her lips curled into a smile, and all the crimson that remained in her hair turned black, "I'll give you all something you deserve…" Willow promised in an icy whisper, her smile turning into a deranged smirk as she leaning in, her lips almost touching Anya's ear. "You want to know what it is you deserve, Anya?" She asked with the same sensuality that might accompany a declaration of love, but there was nothing but anger and coldness coming from her body. "You deserve a slow burn," She murmured, her lips now trailing down Anya's neck, "You deserve for me to make it last…" Anya closed her eyes as the vampire reached the equivalent of her pulse point, feeling powerless in her paralysis, and wondering what in God's name she might have done to deserve the Hyde she was getting.
Willow leaned back to a more comfortable distance, keeping Anya in her upright position as she observed the vengeance demon. "Angelus was all about the killing…" She mused, the anger now having left her eyes, replaced by nothing my calm malice, "He was all about the momentary satisfaction of just snapping a neck…" She smiled, and Anya thought back to the little she knew of the vampire that was being mentioned, recalling some of the things he had claimed to have done to the Scoobies. "He was so obsessed with everyone knowing how much he was fucking with them." Willow rolled her eyes, her expression returning to nothingness as she continued to stare intently into Anya's eyes. "It won't be like that with me," She promised in a whisper, "I'll make it silent. Like the world is caving in on you, and you don't have a villain to blame…" Her words continued to go lower and a small smile emerged on her lips. "That's what I want, Anya…" She sighed, her smile still on her lips, "And for a while I'd been hoping you'd be there to watch me do it. But it looks like you'll just be joining the rest of them now, and I won't have an audience..."
Willow just gazed intently at her prey, letting the ensuing silence seal her promise. Anya opened her mouth to whisper once she gathered the physical and emotional strength to do so. "You know, there are better ways to kill a vengeance demon than choking them." She managed to gasp. Anya nearly jumped at the ensuing laughter from the vampire, and started to regret her words, hoping the vampire wouldn't repeat the mentioned action. As it was, she wasn't sure if her larynx would be capable of long periods of speech for at least a week…
"Oh Ahn," Willow smiled, "Haven't you been listening?" She shook her head at the other demon, her smile slowly vanishing, "I'm not going to kill you." She shrugged, "I'm just going to make it a bit… easier." Anya felt the pull of magicks recede from her body, and she struggled to keep herself upright without them. As she managed to maintain her upright position, she found the vampire gazing at her intently, this time with only inquisitiveness in her eyes. "You don't even know what you did, do you?" She asked in a sad whisper. Anya didn't. She still wished she had some clue as to what had managed to piss the vampire off to such an extent, but couldn't even recall the last time she had mentioned her to the Scoobies, let alone anything about her lying about the redhead. "You betrayed me, Anya." Willow explained with a frown, "You told them I did it. That I might have done it…" She trailed off as she looked into the distance, her expression now laced with pain, "You told her that I did it…" She whispered, her voice trembling.
Tito.
Of course! God, how could Anya have been such an idiot. Of course, it was Tito!
"Willow," She started, attempting to fix the damage now that she knew what had caused it, "I'm sorry. I-I'm sorry I assumed that was you, I just thought…" She trailed as black eyes trailed back to land on her, her legs suddenly threatening to buck under her, "I really thought, w-with the 'I'll kill Xander for you' and the 'pain before the kill', and then Tito disappeared…" Anya breathed deeply through her mouth, attempting to calm herself. She had never felt this intimidated in her vengeance days, not by any being other than D'Hoffryn. And never in a million years by a vampire. And yet, somehow, this vampire was growing closer and closer in power to D'Hoffryn himself… "I'm sorry. I was wrong to bring that up." She apologized sincerely, not wanting to turn such a new friend into an enemy, "They really, really never listen to me, you know…" She tried.
Willow stared at her for a few seconds, and slowly smiled at her with what appeared to be understanding. "I get it, Ahn." She accepted, sighing as her smile faded, "But I can't trust you... You get that, right?" She looked at her with sad eyes, shaking her head in pity, "I really liked you…" She muttered, "I thought you were my friend. A friend." Willow closed her eyes, taking in a few breaths to calm herself before turning her gaze back to the vengeance demon before her. "But you're not." She finished, resolve clear in her eyes, "And you have no right to anything I shared with you anymore…" Anya briefly remembered something along the lines of dead men not telling tales, and momentarily questioned Willow's promise not to kill her.
But all Willow did was reach into her pocket and return with a small flower in hand, gazing at it with sad, tired eyes. "So I think…" She whispered, looking like she was nearly on the verge of tears as she twirled the little flower around in her fingertips, "We should just put it all behind us. And forget about it…"
A/N: So here endeth the two interlude chapters, which I hope didn't end up too contrived, and we'll be back into the thick of it with then next one. We're nearing the crescendo of this first arc of the story pretty soon so look forward to that (but still a looong way to go till we're done). I just hope I pull it off as well as it's brewing in my head.
Not gonna lie, this chapter gave me a lot of trouble, mostly with just exploring and trying to understand the new relationship dynamic and letting it develop naturally. It also ended up being far, far longer than I intended, but really, that's just me. Plus there were no Chapter breaks I really liked (and I also really didn't want to have three interlude chapters). Also as for the last scene in the chapter, Tito is one of Xander's construction worker friends, mentioned in I Was Made For You, I believe. I don't blame you for not knowing that, I'm just crazy. As for how that information was revealed to Willow and why exactly she's so upset about it, we'll see in the upcoming chapters... Also I know I've kinda hinted at some behind the scenes interactions between Willow and the Scoobies (notably Tara) but don't worry that's also coming up in the future. I'm not gonna just leave y'all to imagine the Tillow goodness...
Also, yes that's Spike's jacket, and I agree with Willow that it's a temporary fix. You can just pretend that that's the only scene she'd wearing it in if you want, I don't mention it but I'm pretty sure she just replaces it with a regular jacket in my head-canon, so that can be your head-canon too! Or not, if you like the idea of an huge jacket on a tiny woman, it's up to you really. I'm not tryna turn her into him, no worries. Vamp Willow is fun enough in her own right. (Also if we're being anal about sticking to canon, he technically doesn't seem to take it with him in Seeing Red and doesn't actually wear it again until Get It Done.)
Also I know I'm taking some liberties with vengeance demons (no hearts, no need to breath, general lack of physical power) but since they're not very greatly explored in the show there's not much to refute any of this. Only relevant examples I can recall are the sword through the chest not being lethal in Older and Far Away and Selfless (which can arguably support the heart thing) and the sharp gasp Anya takes in Selfless after being stabbed (which, you know, kind open to interpretation, but can refute the breath thing). But really this is just me geeking out over irrelevant stuff that was mostly just added for flavor text and won't matter in the long run...
Feel free to review, I'd love the feedback. God this chapter went through so many false starts and reedits that I can hardly form an opinion anymore. Writer eyes... Anyways, please let me know what you thought! If you think the chapters are too long (this was like 11k words, Goddess) let me know too, cause it's bound to get long sometimes. Also let me know if you have any pointers on the characterization, I feel like I might've pushed things a bit this time...