FIC: Closer to the Heart - Chapter 7
Title: Closer to the Heart
Chapter 7: Potential
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Explicit femslash. A few F-bombs. Other than that, if you’re not offended by the episode, you shouldn’t be offended by this fic.
Summary: Buffy tries to sort out her feelings.
A/N: These updates will be coming quicker, I promise.
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“Rona, what did your instincts tell you to do just then?”
Buffy, Spike, and a gaggle of potential Slayers were gathered in a graveyard. Spike had been very accommodating about the whole thing. The girls needed to be trained and what could be better than a real vampire?
“Block his attack, keep him off balance,” Rona listed off dryly, “gain the advantage…”
“No,” Buffy countered. “They didn’t.”
“They told me to run,” Rona admitted frankly.
“Vi?” Buffy prompted.
“They told me to run,” she confirmed, rubbing her wrist and glancing toward the other potential Slayers and then back at Spike. “They’re still sort of telling me to run.”
“Don’t fight on his terms,” Buffy instructed the group. “Your gut’s telling you to run, run. Okay? Regain the higher ground. Make the fight your own. Spike,” she turned to face him, “what did your instincts tell you to do just then?”
“Hunt,” the vampire answered hungrily. “Kill.”
“Come at me,” Buffy told him as she stepped out in front of the girls, “full speed.” Spike raised his eyebrows and smirked. “He needs to kill to live,” Buffy said to the potentials. “That tells you everything you need to know.”
Spike growled as he lunged forward. Buffy ducked the attack, using his own momentum to send him crashing into a headstone. Pressing the advantage, Buffy pinned him to the ground, one hand at his throat and the other holding a stake to his heart.
“Instinct,” she called out to the girls. “Understand his, but trust yours. You were chosen for a reason.” Spike groaned softly. “Are you okay?” Buffy released his throat.
“I’m…fine,” Spike answered. “Couple of ribs ain’t set right since - I’m fine.”
“Let me see,” Buffy requested, lifting his shirt.
“No, it’s just-”
“Spike.”
They both froze for a second as her warm hand met his cold skin. Spike pulled her hand away.
“I’m gonna be okay,” he said pointedly.
“That’s hot,” Rona pointed out.
Molly looked up from her notepad with an inquisitive look on her face.
“So, we’re supposed to, like, make out with them or something?”
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“Do people ever think you’re weird?”
Buffy was in her office at school. A girl named Amanda was seated across from her, seeking advice.
“Um,” Buffy blinked dazedly, unsettled by the question, “I guess. Sure, in a charming, endearing, loveable… Yeah.”
“I feel like people think I’m weird,” Amanda explained, “and so they pick on me. But I might be - weird.”
“Amanda, why do you think that you’re weird?” Buffy asked sensitively.
“One of the boys who picks on me, I kind of - See, if a guy picks on you, is it weird to think he’s cute?”
Score one for the Hellmouth, always hits close to home.
“Oh,” Buffy sighed.
“It’s just, the last few times I’ve seen him, I’ve wanted to, you know, pick on him…extra. More.”
This was getting awkward fast.
“Uh-huh,” Buffy said with a nervous laugh.
“The thing is, I can’t tell.” Amanda shifted uncomfortably. “My mom says when a guy teases you, it means he likes you.”
“Sometimes that’s true,” Buffy said with a nod, having learned from experience that absolutes were seldom if ever the correct way to approach a situation.
“Is it weird?” Amanda was craving some sort of validation. “We’re mean to each other - and we like each other.”
“Well, it depends,” Buffy began. “Sometimes that’s how people relate. Being mean to each other.” She thought of Xander and Cordelia all those years ago. “Even mortal enemies…” Her and Spike. But that hadn’t been a healthy thing. “Then with the - and that leads to no good, absolutely no good. And much confusion. A-and then it’s over. Absolutely, seriously, definitely over. And that’s confusing too. The over part. Which it is. Over!” Buffy realized that this was entirely too much over-identification. “So, maybe,” she finished with an encouraging smile.
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“Thanks for coming,” Buffy greeted as Willow entered the office.
“You sounded kinda urgent on the phone,” Willow noted. “What’s up?”
“Urgent,” Buffy confirmed. She grasped Willow’s hand and led her right back out of the office again. Classes were in session so the halls were clear. “Good word, urgent.”
“Buffy, what is it?” Willow sounded concerned. “Is it something with the Seal? Should I have brought-”
“Not the Seal,” Buffy answered quickly as she marched purposefully through the halls.
“So, what is it?”
“Nerves,” Buffy told her. “Nerves and…”
*And horniness,* she added mentally.
Willow raised her eyebrows. They had stopped in front of a broom closet. Buffy opened the door and pulled her in.
“God, Will, I hate being away from you,” Buffy panted. They started kissing, desperately passionate and needy. Buffy backed Willow into the door.
“Ow,” the witch expressed. Buffy froze. “Doorknob,” Willow explained.
“Right, light switch,” Buffy muttered, feeling the wall. A fluorescent bulb flickered to life overhead. “It’s so good to see you.”
Their lips met again. Buffy’s right hand started stroking Willow’s hair and the left was on her lower back, holding the witch close. Willow was breathing heavily through her nose, every exhale playing softly across the Slayer’s cheek. The redhead’s hands moved to the top of Buffy’s black shirt and she began unbuttoning it.
“Willow, wait.” Buffy grasped Willow’s wrists to stop her.
“Gah!” Willow replied in frustration.
“Just a second, okay?” Buffy assured her as they both caught their breath. “It’s just, before we do this - I feel like I need to confess something.”
“Confess?” Willow questioned. “Buffy, what is it?”
A timid expression entered the blonde girl’s face, so unlike the Slayer, a look of pure Buffy.
“Spike’s really fucking hot,” the blonde blurted out.
“Okay…” Willow responded.
“Okay?” asked Buffy. “Just like that?”
“Buffy - how am I supposed to be interpreting this?”
“Face value,” the Slayer assured her.
“Then okay,” said Willow. “Spike’s hot. Can we get back to kissing now?” The witch tried to move her hands, but Buffy held them in place.
“I’m having trouble - reconciling,” Buffy decided. “Reconciling the hotness and the caring about him in a friendly way. I mean, emotionally I don’t want him, but physically… And I’ve been having - thoughts - really wrong thoughts about him. And about you,” she added quickly. “And some with both of you.”
“Buffy, what are you trying to say?” Willow requested gently. “Three-way?”
“No,” Buffy answered immediately. “God, no. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I didn’t think you did,” said Willow with a smile. “I figured I should ask though.”
“I just - I didn’t wanna not tell you.”
“And I’m glad you did,” Willow said reassuringly. “It’s okay if you find other people attractive. I mean, you’re not gonna do anything with him, right?”
“Of course not,” said Buffy promptly. “It’s just confusing. And I wanted to tell you about it.”
“Okay,” Willow repeated. “You can tell me anything, Buffy.”
“Sometimes when we’re training, I’ll be demonstrating moves and I kinda get the urge to tear his shirt off.”
“Maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve - scratched that itch,” Willow suggested.
“I’m glad you said it,” Buffy admitted.
“So maybe you should let me scratch it,” Willow tugged against Buffy’s hands again.
“Willow, I just - you know it’s not only because I’m horny, right? It’s also because I love you.”
“I know that, Buffy,” said Willow calmly. “I love you too.”
Buffy released Willow’s hands and they started kissing again. Three buttons down, Willow began stroking the tops of Buffy’s breasts.
“I love you,” Buffy panted as the witch moved to her neck.
“Turn, baby,” Willow mumbled. They reversed positions so that Buffy was leaning against the door. “You’re gonna need that when your legs start shaking,” Willow vowed.
“Promises, promises,” Buffy teased.
Willow moved up, following the Slayer’s jaw line and then kissing behind her ear. Soft moans escaped Buffy’s lips. One hand slipped beneath Buffy’s bra, cupping her right breast. Buffy had one hand against the door on the other on Willow’s waist, trying desperately to suppress her moans.
“Can you sound proof this room or something?” Buffy asked.
“Not without raiding the chem-lab,” answered the witch.
“Fuck,” Buffy lamented as Willow planted soft kisses on her neck.
“Getting there,” Willow assured her.
Willow’s kisses reached Buffy’s chest and she undid another button on the shirt. She didn’t want to take off the bra; they were in a public closet after all. Pushing the cups up, Willow’s tongue teased against the right nipple. Her right hand was gently squeezing the other breast and her left went for the button on Buffy’s pants.
“Ahh,” Buffy inhaled sharply as Willow’s hand pushed against the front of her panties. Willow liked the feel of the silky material under her hand and Buffy liked the way it felt against her body. “Ohh yes,” she encouraged. Willow kissed her way down Buffy’s stomach, pushing her pants slowly down her thighs as she went along.
“Hey,” said Willow as she got on eye-level with Buffy’s waist. “Are these mine?” Buffy wore purple panties made of silk and lace.
“Yes,” Buffy replied.
“You’re kinky,” Willow teased.
“This from the girl who wants to have sex at the Doublemeat Palace so we can use the ice cream machine,” Buffy quipped.
“Buffy, we’re in the high school,” Willow pointed out. “Deal with that for a minute.” She quickly pulled the panties down to Buffy’s knees.
“Ahh,” the Slayer moaned softly as Willow began kissing her inner right thigh. “Oh, Will.” The witch’s right index finger was tracing along Buffy’s labia.
“Wow,” Willow commented. “It’s definitely been too long.” Her kisses moved inward as her left hand crept up Buffy’s right thigh.
“Ohh, God yes,” Buffy groaned as Willow lapped at her clit. “Ohh, GOD yes,” she added as the witch gently stroked the spot where her thigh joined her torso. “Ah, ah, ahhh.” Shuddering and writhing, Buffy fought the urge to pound her fist against the door. Gently, Willow pushed a finger into Buffy’s moist opening, relishing the warmth that greeted her. “Sooo good,” Buffy complimented. “I love you, Willow.”
“I love you too,” the witch answered quickly, before returning to the task at hand. Her finger stroked and pressed against various parts of the Slayer’s internal walls, each spot earning a different sound. Buffy was pressing both hands flat against the door, trying to contain her reactions as much as was possible.
“You were right,” the Slayer told her lover.
“Hm?”
“Door was a good ideeea!” She arched as Willow crooked her finger. The meaning of the gesture was not lost on either of them: come here. “Almost there,” Buffy announced. Willow rapidly moved her tongue up and down in response. “Oh yes!” Buffy praised. “Please, please, please, please - ahhh! God! Guh! Ahhh!” She shuddered violently and Willow held her firmly against the door.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God,” Buffy chanted as the waves of pleasure pulsed through her system.
“Did you forget my name?” Willow teased.
“Are you - are you sure it’s not God?” Buffy asked with a smile.
“No,” said Willow as she stood. “I’m your Willow, remember.”
“And I’m your Buffy,” the blonde replied readily.
“I love my Buffy.”
“And I love my Willow.” The Slayer leaned forward and captured the witch’s lips hungrily, her need for closeness overwhelming everything else in her mind. She wrapped both arms around her lover and held her tightly. Just as she grasped the bottom of the witch’s shirt, there was a knock on the closet door.
“Hey, who’s in there?” A gruff male voice called from the other side.
“Shit!” Buffy whispered, quickly rearranging her clothing.
Willow grasped the doorknob and pulled it open as Buffy finished her last button.
“Who’re you?” the man demanded. Willow assumed he must be the janitor, why else would he be trying to get into the closet.
“Um, I’m…”
“We were…” Buffy tried to think of a good excuse.
“Miss Summers,” the man recognized her, “why are you in the closet?”
Willow suppressed a giggle.
“We were just - I was…”
“Sick,” Willow supplied.
“Sick,” Buffy seized the word like a lifeline. “I, um, threw up. I threw up in the bathroom and I was looking for something to clean it up.”
“And you locked the door?” the man questioned.
“I-I just closed it behind me,” Willow lied quickly. “I didn’t realize I’d locked it.”
“Next time just get a janitor,” the man grumbled in frustration, pushing past them and into the closet. “First frog dissection, now this,” he complained as he gathered supplies.
Willow and Buffy slipped quietly out of the closet and made their way back down the hall.
*Will, I’m really sorry,* Buffy thought as they headed for the office.
*What for?* Willow thought back.
*I was gonna do you too.*
*Try not to worry about it,* Willow answered. *We’ll get around to it.*
*I hate that I have to get around to you, Will. You know that, right?*
*Yes,* Willow assured her. *I understand that sometimes you have to do things even if you don’t want to. It’s okay, Buffy.*
*I just want you to know that you’re important to me.*
*I love you, Buffy.*
*I love you too.*
“Buffy,” a voice called from behind her. The Slayer turned.
“Principal Wood,” she greeted cheerily.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he informed her. “There are a couple of students waiting in your office.”
“Sorry,” Buffy said quickly. “I stepped out for a minute.”
“I think I know what this is.” A look of realization crossed his face. “You’re still feeling sick aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Buffy answered with an air of confession. “I thought I was okay to work, but it just sorta came over me. I had Will bring me some medicine though,” she said with a glance at the redhead. “I should be okay to get through the rest of the day. This is Willow, by the way. Willow Rosenberg. She and I went to the old school together.”
“Nice to meet you, Willow,” said the Principal, extending a hand. Willow started forward with her right hand, but quickly changed to the left, causing the Principal to awkwardly offer his other hand. “I’m Robin Wood.”
“Willow, like she said.” The witch pointed at Buffy. “Nice to meet you too.”
“Now, Buffy,” said Wood as he released Willow’s hand, “two students in your office, if you could.”
“I’m on the case,” Buffy answered with a nod.
*I’ll see you at home, okay?* she thought to Willow.
*Okay. I love you.*
*I love you too.*
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“Oh, oh, oh,” Willow whimpered, pressing herself against the fingers that were invading her body. “Yes, yes, oh.” Her hips rocked urgently, getting closer with every second.
“Hey, what’s up with the - woops.” Kennedy stood in the doorway holding a coat hanger and looking embarrassed.
“God damn it!” Willow raged, quickly pulling her hand out of her pants.
“Really?” Kennedy questioned, waving the coat hanger.
“Signals must be different where you’re from,” Willow complained. “I’m gonna have to get Xander to put a lock on that door.” She frowned to herself.
“You could just do it in the bathroom like the rest of us,” said Kennedy bluntly.
“I’m assuming you’re here for a reason,” Willow questioned, ignoring the suggestion.
“Phone’s for you,” the potential Slayer informed her. “Cordless is dead so you’ll have to take it downstairs.”
“Is it Buffy?” Willow asked.
“No.”
“Tell them to call back later.”
“It’s Althenea.”
“Fuck,” Willow whispered as she got off the bed.
“Maybe later,” Kennedy offered.
“No,” Willow said bluntly. “That was the expletive, not the verb.”
“If you say so,” the brunette teased.
“Give it up, Kennedy,” Willow told her as she straightened her shirt.
“So, are you gonna go get that phone?”
“I’m coming,” Willow griped.
“Maybe later,” Kennedy repeated.
“I wish you’d stop that.”
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Next Chapter: The Killer in Me
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