FIC: Confidence - Willow/Buffy - PG13
Title: Confidence
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Willow/Cordy?, Willow/Buffy
Summary: First Buffy-Willow sleepover evar; Willow has a nightmare, and ends up saying more than she means to...
Willow lives a lot easier, now that she’s friends with Buffy. Tonight is their first sleepover, though, and she’s sitting up, Buffy’s concern evident in the dim moonlight. Buffy’s hand is on her shoulder, and she can feel herself shaking. Buffy is whispering, asking if she had a nightmare, if it’s anything she can help with.
Willow is shaking her head, gaping mutely like a stupid fish. How could she possibly explain the dream? It’s not a dream; it’s a memory.
Her memories are basic. They tend to involve one of two people, depending on whether they are positive or negative. Positive memories are those of Xander; of giggling pajama parties in grade school, of their pathetic-but-funny water-fountain rigs that got them beaten up on a few occasions.
Negative memories are sometimes of her parents, of disappointing them, but are more often of Cordelia-Cordelia, who is more involved in her life than her parents. Cordelia excluding her on the playground in second grade; Cordelia shoving her into lockers while her consorts cackle, once she joined cheerleading and got stronger; Cordelia deciding, in sixth grade, that she loves the way Willow looks when she blushes.
This memory is recent-a contemporary discovery of Cordelia’s. The first time was an accident: they had been passing in a crowded hallway, going opposite directions, and turned towards each other as they squeezed through. Their lips had brushed, and Cordelia had sneered, then grinned at Willow’s heated flush.
Willow, who by then had made avoiding Cordelia into its own art form, had prayed that Cordelia would let that alone and stick to her usual tricks. Deep down, Willow supposes now, she knew the hope was in vain, but she was still surprised when-instead of the ruthless, straightforward teasing she had come to expect-Cordelia tracked her into the bathroom after English and pushed her against a wall, kissing her harshly and escaping before Willow could regain vital functions.
Willow realizes, suddenly, that she has babbled-betrayed herself to Buffy, with one of her most important secrets. Her face turns beet red instantly, her face falls, and she averts her eyes. Buffy’s hand touches her cheek, though, and her face is kind. She asks if that was the dream, and though Willow desperately intends to nod, she shakes her head.
Buffy is asking what the dream was, then, and Willow is stuttering. Finally gaining control, she gives a choked cough and turns away. “I’m tired,” she murmurs abruptly, trying to shut down the conversation, but Buffy grips her shoulder to stop her, and Buffy is a lot stronger than Willow is. Willow swallows and says, softly, “I-it was a long time ago, Buffy, and I’m over it.” She gives Buffy her best walking it off smile. “Promise.”
Buffy smiles a little bit and touches Willow’s cheek again. Willow wonders why she keeps doing that-if maybe that’s what friends are supposed to do. She wonders if she should have been doing that all along. But Buffy’s talking, so she pays attention as Buffy says, “…I don’t want to see her hurt you. She’s not worth it.”
Willow’s lips quirk, trying to offer another reassuring smile, but Buffy hugs her instead. “She can’t hurt you,” Buffy whispers, and it occurs to Willow that Buffy is right; that here, in Buffy’s house, she is safe, and Cordelia cannot touch her; her parents, even, cannot touch her. Her hands wind their way around Buffy’s ribcage and give a little squeeze, and Willow thinks she feels Buffy smile against her shoulder.
Buffy stands, her hand ghosting along Willow’s shoulder and arm to grip her hand and pull her up. “C’mon up here,” Buffy smiles kindly, slipping into the bed and scooting over.
Willow blinks, obviously uncomfortable. “A-are you sure?” she asks, voice strangled. “I mean, I’ll be okay, you know.” She nods a little, for effect.
Buffy smirks wryly. “I won’t bite,” she promises. “I just wanna keep you safe, ’kay?”
Willow manages to swallow her misgivings and slides in beside Buffy. The bed is warm where she is, and she can’t decide how that makes her feel. But, when they lay down to sleep again and Buffy’s arm snakes over her stomach, touch gentle and comforting, she finds that she isn’t about to complain.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Willow/Cordy?, Willow/Buffy
Summary: First Buffy-Willow sleepover evar; Willow has a nightmare, and ends up saying more than she means to...
Willow lives a lot easier, now that she’s friends with Buffy. Tonight is their first sleepover, though, and she’s sitting up, Buffy’s concern evident in the dim moonlight. Buffy’s hand is on her shoulder, and she can feel herself shaking. Buffy is whispering, asking if she had a nightmare, if it’s anything she can help with.
Willow is shaking her head, gaping mutely like a stupid fish. How could she possibly explain the dream? It’s not a dream; it’s a memory.
Her memories are basic. They tend to involve one of two people, depending on whether they are positive or negative. Positive memories are those of Xander; of giggling pajama parties in grade school, of their pathetic-but-funny water-fountain rigs that got them beaten up on a few occasions.
Negative memories are sometimes of her parents, of disappointing them, but are more often of Cordelia-Cordelia, who is more involved in her life than her parents. Cordelia excluding her on the playground in second grade; Cordelia shoving her into lockers while her consorts cackle, once she joined cheerleading and got stronger; Cordelia deciding, in sixth grade, that she loves the way Willow looks when she blushes.
This memory is recent-a contemporary discovery of Cordelia’s. The first time was an accident: they had been passing in a crowded hallway, going opposite directions, and turned towards each other as they squeezed through. Their lips had brushed, and Cordelia had sneered, then grinned at Willow’s heated flush.
Willow, who by then had made avoiding Cordelia into its own art form, had prayed that Cordelia would let that alone and stick to her usual tricks. Deep down, Willow supposes now, she knew the hope was in vain, but she was still surprised when-instead of the ruthless, straightforward teasing she had come to expect-Cordelia tracked her into the bathroom after English and pushed her against a wall, kissing her harshly and escaping before Willow could regain vital functions.
Willow realizes, suddenly, that she has babbled-betrayed herself to Buffy, with one of her most important secrets. Her face turns beet red instantly, her face falls, and she averts her eyes. Buffy’s hand touches her cheek, though, and her face is kind. She asks if that was the dream, and though Willow desperately intends to nod, she shakes her head.
Buffy is asking what the dream was, then, and Willow is stuttering. Finally gaining control, she gives a choked cough and turns away. “I’m tired,” she murmurs abruptly, trying to shut down the conversation, but Buffy grips her shoulder to stop her, and Buffy is a lot stronger than Willow is. Willow swallows and says, softly, “I-it was a long time ago, Buffy, and I’m over it.” She gives Buffy her best walking it off smile. “Promise.”
Buffy smiles a little bit and touches Willow’s cheek again. Willow wonders why she keeps doing that-if maybe that’s what friends are supposed to do. She wonders if she should have been doing that all along. But Buffy’s talking, so she pays attention as Buffy says, “…I don’t want to see her hurt you. She’s not worth it.”
Willow’s lips quirk, trying to offer another reassuring smile, but Buffy hugs her instead. “She can’t hurt you,” Buffy whispers, and it occurs to Willow that Buffy is right; that here, in Buffy’s house, she is safe, and Cordelia cannot touch her; her parents, even, cannot touch her. Her hands wind their way around Buffy’s ribcage and give a little squeeze, and Willow thinks she feels Buffy smile against her shoulder.
Buffy stands, her hand ghosting along Willow’s shoulder and arm to grip her hand and pull her up. “C’mon up here,” Buffy smiles kindly, slipping into the bed and scooting over.
Willow blinks, obviously uncomfortable. “A-are you sure?” she asks, voice strangled. “I mean, I’ll be okay, you know.” She nods a little, for effect.
Buffy smirks wryly. “I won’t bite,” she promises. “I just wanna keep you safe, ’kay?”
Willow manages to swallow her misgivings and slides in beside Buffy. The bed is warm where she is, and she can’t decide how that makes her feel. But, when they lay down to sleep again and Buffy’s arm snakes over her stomach, touch gentle and comforting, she finds that she isn’t about to complain.