Chasing Willow
Dedicated to Kevin Smith.
“Look at her. She’s really pretty. Watcha think, gay or straight?”
“Straight. Look at the Goliath she just glommed onto.”
“No luck for either of us, then.”
“Doesn’t matter, Will. She’s not my type.” No, he had one type, and he was staring at her. She was glowing tonight, finally dealing with the grief and ready to move on. Just not in the direction he’d hoped.
He knew she wasn’t really fine, not yet. He heard her night screams as he lay on the couch , refusing to take the bed when she’d begged him. She’d had no where else to go, and he’d insisted she stay with him. She protested at first, not wanting to put him out; take advantage of their friendship. She didn’t know his greatest joy was seeing her over her cereal bowl in the morning.
“Do you want another beer?” she asked, standing to head towards the bar.
“Nope. Trying to cut down. Maybe a soda.” He watched her cross the room, trying to navigate through the crowd. A few months ago, this was the very teeming humanity she’d tried to destroy, until he’d stopped her. Stopped her with love. She’d cut him, hurt him, pummelled him, but he kept on saying “I love you.” Obviously, it never occurred to her how much he meant it. She was just glad to get her best friend back.
But God, how he did love her. Their timing had alway been rotten. When his true feelings were emerging, and when for unforgettable weeks she had returned them, they hadn’t been free. He had hurt Cordy, and he regretted it. She’s done more than that with her guilt, she’d thrown herself into making things up to Oz. When the thing with Oz self-destructed, she had already moved on to Tara.
And he’d had Anya. Anya who loved him unconditionally. It was amazing that Anya could walk, with her foot always in her mouth. He’d convinced himself that he loved her, but in the end he knew he would only hurt her. They would have become his parents. He’d always known there was no love from his father. He’d been born seven months after their wedding. He was no scholar, but he could do the math.
“Got you a coke. That okay?” He hadn’t seen her get back. Too preoccupied.
“Great. Thanks, Will.” Her nose always crinkled when she drank beer. Something about the bubbles tickling. He wished he could watch her drink champagne.
“Oh, look,” she exclaimed. “Spike and Buffy just walked in. Do you want to say hi?”
“Not big on my to do list, no. If they come over here, fine. But I’m not going out of my way to talk to him.”
“Gee, Mr. Grumpy Drawers, I thought you were getting over that. Look how happy he makes her. And he looks pretty happy, too. I mean, he’s all souled now and everything, so what’s the problem?”
“Angel had a soul. Didn’t stop him from breaking Buffy’s heart. I didn’t trust him, I don’t trust Spike, and I won’t trust him.”
Willow sulked. He knew she wanted to talk to Buffy. It had been a sore point between them since the Slayer and the vampire had gotten together. He wished he felt differently. There were enough walls between them as it were.
“Want to dance?”
“I don’t know. This music’s kind of slow.”
“Oh, come on. Maybe a little trip of the light fantastic, and I’ll be more inclined to schmooze with the happy couple.” He reached out his hand, leading her onto the floor. She put her arms around his neck, swaying in time to the music. This was the way he wanted it. Always. Her breasts pressed into his chest, their hips moving in unison. She’d just washed her hair. It smelled like mint. He hoped she didn’t notice his arousal. He knew she couldn’t deal. But being with her, it was just so perfect. He bent and whispered in her ear, “I love you.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “I love you too, buddy.”