Title: Tomorrow 11/?
Author: Madsdog
Rating: Errr- probably up to R
SPOILERS: UP UNTIL THE END OF 'TWO TO GO'
Distribution: NHA, AEFM, ODD
Disclaimer: If I just owned Willow's body, Dawn's hair and Giles' voice to sing
me to sleep... okay... none of it's mine- those bits belong to the actors and
the rest is Joss' and Marti's (Tara-killers) and Love Letter #1 belongs to Red.
“That’s why he left? Why, if I had my powers I’d-”
“Do nothing.” Anya watched in wonder as Willow took another swig of her beer. Tears ran down her face and her voice shook with the power of the still recent memory- and yet she sat there and said she wouldn’t wish any vengeance upon him. She thought about what the witch had just told her. He hadn’t just ended it; he’d as good as told her that she meant nothing to him. He could have kept the ring. He didn’t even have to wear it, just some indication of- anything.
“Do you still have the ring?” Willow held up her hand, to show the gold on her finger
“I had to stick blu-tak in it, but I had to have it on me. To remember.”
“Have… have you tried to contact him?” A fresh sob resounded and Anya took Willow into her arms, as a new wave of tears attacked the small body.
“I- I tried everything.” The words were broken as Willow spoke through her tears, but clear. “I emailed him and then when I didn’t get a reply, hacked into his account… he hasn’t logged in since he left. If I phone I get her or no answer… and my letters got returned. Either someone’s blocking me or… he doesn’t want to know.” She ended with a sob, before wrapping her arms around her companion’s waist and burying her face in her chest: treating Anya much as one would a teddy bear. The ex-demon muttered words of nonsense, rocking the two of them back and forth and offering what comfort she could. She thought of the agony this girl had suffered, justified her recent magic craziness, and realised her sudden decision to go cold turkey as being equal parts guilt over hurting Dawn and maternal protection. Through all of this, she reminded herself of her own good luck and wedding plans.
Two hours later, Xander Harris returned home: sober as always, to find his two girls wrapped together on his sofa, deep in an obviously fretful sleep, surrounded by open beer bottles and melted ice cream
***
Somewhere in England, Eliza Giles watched as her husband sat engrossed in The Italian Job for the third time in a fortnight and gazed at a model mini cooper he’d placed on top of the television. She had no doubt the Rosenberg girl had given him the boxed car, and knew she had to find a subtle way to remove its presence.
The project was behind schedule. Since he’d arrived in England, Rupert had shown no signs of forgetting his little fling back in Sunnydale. Eliza had tried her best, she really had, but short of wiping his memory, she was fresh out of ideas.
Looked like things were going to have to start moving from the other end.
Tearing her eyes away from Michael Caine, Eliza entered the room entirely.
“There’s a letter. From the Summers girl.” Giles held out a hand, barely turning his head to place her in his peripheral vision.
“From Buffy?”
“No. The girl. Dawn.” He took the letter and waited until his wife’s footsteps had receded to the other end of the hall outside his room, before opening the first correspondence he’d had with anyone from Sunnydale in the past three months.
“At least someone hasn’t forgotten me.” With the unhappy thought still fresh, he began to read.
***
Willow was woken by the smell of fresh coffee brewing and a splitting headache. Groaning she pressed herself tighter into the body beside her, and tried to catch that elusive strand of sleep. Suddenly, a spark of realisation alerted her to the fact that Rupert’s chest was an awful lot softer than usual, and his waist was definitely thinner. Opening her eyes she took in redness before looking up and jumping.
“Anya!”
“Morning Willow.” She turned her head to look behind her.
“Xander. What are you doing here?”
“This is my apartment. Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“Er… I was talking to Anya, we were drinking and eating ice cream and then… oh! This isn’t what it looks like!” A confused look crossed Xander’s face and he looked over to his waking fiancée.
“What does it look like?”
“I didn’t sleep with Anya! Well I slept with her… or on her… but not y’know, -with- her.”
“Have some coffee Will. Then think about what you just said. Morning honey.” Anya sat up and leaned over Willow for a kiss.
“Yek. I slept in yesterday’s clothes… on the couch. Xander! Why did you let me do that?”
“There wasn’t much ‘letting’ hon. You were like that when I came home.”
“Blerg. I need to shower.” She stood and walked to the bathroom, pausing only to grab her own coffee and mutter obscenities at her sore neck. Sat next to each other on the couch, Willow and Xander stayed silent for a few moments before she looked up from her empty coffee mug.
“That was pretty stupid, what I just said, wasn’t it?”
“Just a bit. If you weren’t Willow, I’d say you had a guilty conscience. So what were you two ladies up to last night?”
“Nothing much. Just talking.”
“*Just* talking?”
“Yeah”
“As soon as I walked in that door last night I knew you’d been crying. Must’ve been some talk.”
“It’s nothing.”
“I don’t like things that make you cry.”
“I just needed Anya’s help with something.”
“I could ask her. She’d tell me eventually.”
“But you won’t.”
“How’d you know?”
“Because you’re my friend and you love me and you know it’ll hurt me if you do that and that I’ll tell you when I’m ready.” He thought about this, weighing her words.
“Your right. As long you promise you will…because otherwise I’m tickling you until you tell-and you know I can go on for hours.” A huge grin broke over her face. He hadn’t threatened her with the tickle monster for years-since before Buffy came to Sunnydale and the fact it came up now made her trust him more than she had since then.
“I love you too.” Their warm hug was broken by a rapping at the door, which Xander jumped up to answer. The well-dressed man on the other side of the door smiled charmingly.
“I’m looking for Ms Rosenburg. I was told I might find her here.”
“Sure, she’s right-“ too late Xander realised no one who wasn’t in the apartment right now should know where Willow was. But both this and the exposed claws as the man lunged past him registered only in time for him to jump on the back of the thing that was attacking his best friend.
In the bathroom, Anya was drawn from her lotioning by a roar, a shout from Xander, and a scream from Willow and she raced to the main room in only her robe.
Willow lay on her back propped up against the far wall, while Xander clung to the back of a tindane-v’arsh that seemed to have frozen in place, one gnarled claw about two inches from the witch’s oh-so-delicate stomach. Willow’s eyes were wide in a combination of shock and fear, and Anya ran to her instantly, taking her in her arms and pulling her from the threat as Xander slid from the creature’s back.
“What is that?”
“An assassin- tindane-v’arsh. Check to see if he’s wearing any jewellery.”
“Jewellery?”
“Yes Xander, to see who he’s’ working for. Willow, you okay?”
“I used magic.”
“You had to.”
“But- what if-”
“You’re safe now. You wouldn’t be had you not.” She placed a hand on Willow’s abdomen to indicate she meant both mother and child, and the girl managed a weak smile in return. Xander walked over to the couch.
“Good news- he’s not from Taraka. Bad news- he’s a cow.”
“A cow?”
“This bracelet- it says CoW.” Panicked, Willow looked up at her confidante. Both knew the worst was yet to come.