Maybe I Did, BtVS for Winter Jossverse Ficathon
My assignment was difficult...a pairing I had never considered, and found difficult to work with...so I'm not convinced this is my best work...Still, here it is:
Title: Maybe I Did
Pairing: Warren/Willow
Setting: BtVS, Season 5, post Oz, pre Tara
Ratign: NC-17
For: Name/LJ: Jennice
Buffy was busy patrolling. Xander was working. That mostly left Willow alone for the night. Oz was gone, and it hurt like someone had kicked her in the stomach. It had only been a week or so, and she still half expected him to come around the corner, that half smile aimed her way, that little head tilt that said so much more than words ever could.
Stifling a self-indulgent moan, Willow sank onto the couch in the dark back corner of a bar just off campus. She’d glamoured her ID card to get in, knowing none of her friends would think to look for her there. She could be alone and mope.
“You look like you could use a drink.”
She looked up to find a drink extended her way, something yellow and red with a straw poking out the top. “Thanks, but I-“
“It’s a drink Rosenburg, not some illicit street drug.” The man offering sat next to her on the couch, the drink held between them until she took it.
He was relatively new to the school. She’d seen him in a class or two. She nodded her thanks and sipped at the drink, surprised to find it fruity and refreshing. “Warren, I’m not exactly in the mood for company.”
He smiled and drank from his own cup. “I figured as much. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here…and almost never see you without your friends.”
“They’re…busy.” She tried not to let the hurt register. It wasn’t like they didn’t care, they did…they were worried about her.
“Leaving you to deal with the hurt of love gone wrong all alone.” He raised an eyebrow and shifted so that he was facing her, making the little couch a more intimate setting.
“No, it isn’t like that.”
His smile was soft, and despite a need for him to be wrong, Willow found her mind drifting back down that path of thought.
“Sure it is. You give and give to them, and then when you need them, they abandon you.”
Willow looked away, ashamed that she had thought the same thing all day. She knew it wasn’t true, but she felt it, and it hurt. Warren took her silence for admittance. “I know how it feels. You think you’ve found someone special, and you let yourself love them. Then they leave you.” He touched her arm, caressed it lightly. “Your friends can’t understand because it hasn’t happened to them…and your pain is uncomfortable for them.”
Willow drank from her cup and blinked in an effort to keep the tears at bay. Why was she even listening to this guy? She barely knew him. Obviously, he knew her, or had had his heart ripped out by someone too. Maybe that’s why he hit that particularly nail so well.
Willow shook her head and took a deep breath. “I should go. I have homework.”
She stood and he did too. “Okay, but if you decide you do want company, I’ll be around.”
Two nights later, Willow found herself on that same couch in that same bar. It had been a bad day and she’d spent two hours of it crying after finding a pair of Oz’s jeans in her closet. She sat in the corner of the couch, huddled into herself. She didn’t even look up at him when he appeared in front of her and held out a drink. She only took the glass and downed the beverage, making a face as the alcohol burned its way down.
“Want another?”
She nodded miserably and he went away, returning minutes later with a second drink. “Want to talk?”
Willow shook her head. No, talking wouldn’t help. Her mother might believe it solved everything, but Willow knew better. Some things you just had to beat into submission.
He touched her hand and she looked up. “Want to be alone?”
Again, she shook her head. “Can you…just sit with me for a bit?”
He smiled and sat next to her. A few minutes passed by and he put his arm around her. A few more minutes passed and she leaned into him.
Two drinks later he kissed her. It was a little kiss, not much more than the brush of his lips on hers. If she closed her eyes she could imagine they were Oz’s lips. She leaned in for more, but he stood and left her looking at him blankly.
“Come on, let me walk you home.” He helped her stand, steadying her when she swayed.
“Ooh, head spinning.”
He grinned and put his arm around her shoulders. “Lean on me. I shouldn’t have let you have those last two drinks.”
“Big girl,” she said, giggling.
“Big drunk girl,” he responded, brushing a stray strand of red hair from her face. “Come on. Fresh air will help.”
The walk back to the dorm was erratic, with long pauses for Willow to try to stop the world from swirling around her, meandering conversation and a path to match, in part set by Willow’s intoxication and in part because it was a beautiful night.
When they reached her door, he held her hands and kissed her forehead. “Take some aspirin before you go to sleep. It’ll help with the hangover.” He smiled at her and brushed her cheek. “Night.”
“Night,” she responded, turning to unlock the door. “Oh, and Warren?” He turned and she smiled. “Thanks.”
He nodded and disappeared down the hall. Willow let herself into the room, which was remarkably empty of Buffy, considering how late it was. Willow held on to furniture as she moved to put on pajamas…the ones with the fuzzy kitty that Oz had given her…and brush her teeth…and rummage for some aspirin, if Buffy hadn’t taken it all. She managed to take two before she crawled into bed, shivering as her bare feet hit the cold sheets.
“Hey Will.” The door opened to reveal Buffy, fumbling with her book bag and keys. “Janet stopped me on my way up here to tell me that you were with a man. An older man, to hear her tell it, with a cold face.”
Willow groaned and pulled the blankets up over her head. “Wish she would mind her business, and leave mine alone.”
“Willow?”
She sat up, and instantly regretted it as the room swam. “He walked me home.”
“Who he?” Buffy asked with a bit more perk in her voice than necessary as she perched on the edge of Willow’s bed.
“Nobody…just some guy I’ve seen round campus. I think he’s a sophomore.” Willow made a face and lay back down. “Now could you please make the room stop spinning like that?”
Buffy frowned at her. “Are you…have you been drinking?”
“Only a little.” Willow responded with a giggle. “He walked me home to make sure I was safe.”
“Does he have a name?”
“I’ll be sure to ask him next time I see him.” Willow said, unsure why she didn’t want Buffy to know, or what it was she didn’t want her to know.
Buffy sighed and stood, disappearing into the closet to change into pajamas too. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll talk about the dangers of alcohol and men who walk you home when you don’t even know their name.”
There were a hundred little anniversaries and every one of them made her ache all over again. The first time he saw her. The first time she saw him. The day they met. Their first touch, their first coffee date, their first kiss. The first time she gave him a gift. The first time they had survived a situation they shouldn’t have. Their first fight. Their first make up.
With her friends she wore a brave face. She never cried. Warren was right, they didn’t understand. At night, Oz filled her dreams. They kissed and touched and made love and somehow, when it was over Oz would be gone and in his place was Warren. Sometimes she woke up shaking. Sometimes she woke up and went looking for Warren.
On those nights she pretended she was someone else. They talked, mostly about technology and magic and they way they could be used to compliment one another. She wasn’t even surprised at how much he knew, or the questions he asked, though sometimes, when he would nod knowingly in response to something she said, she’d get a funny feeling. They also drank more than was wise, and kissed…touched…things she craved without Oz to give them to her.
Sometimes she let him be Oz in her mind. Sometimes she just let herself be someone with no name, no connections…just this…electricity connecting them. Sometimes it was somehow both of those things.
It was one of those nights. Her dreams had left her aroused and restless and she went looking for him in the usual place. He was there, with two friends, laughing. When his eyes caught hers he stopped laughing, and pushed his friends away.
She dispensed with the pleasantries, sliding onto his lap, her mouth hungry and urgent. His hands came to her hips, caressing her as his mouth opened to her insistent tongue. She created an image in her mind of someone not herself and of someone not Oz or Warren. Let us be nameless strangers. she thought, as her body warmed to his touch. His hands moved over her back, slipping under her sweater to spread long fingers against heated skin. When they finally broke for air, Warren tossed off the last of his drink and whispered in her ear, “Let’s get out of here.”
They never made his dorm room. Willow couldn’t control her hunger once she’d unleashed it. Her hands roamed over his ass, pulled him to a stop to kiss him again, tugged him forward toward the grove of trees dedicated to some Sunnydale forefather or school alumni. His hands moved under her sweater, kneading at her breasts as they kissed in the dark recess of semi-privacy that the trees afforded.
Her hands found his cock, already hard, and stroked it through his pants until he turned them around and pressed her up against the trunk of a tree. She groaned as he lifted her skirt, two fingers pressing into her panties.
“Are you sure?” he whispered as she fumbled with his zipper. She responded by fishing in his pocket for the condom she knew he was carrying and ripping it open. Once she had it on him, she pulled him closer and guided him
She was wet from the fantasy and the dream and his touch and he slid inside her easily, deeply, until they both gasped at the heat that passed between them. His thrusts were quick and sharp and Willow could feel she was already building to an orgasm. His hand slipped under her sweater to pull at a nipple and it began, her body shuddering around him. She moaned, biting her lip to keep him nameless as she rode out the waves of pleasure.
“Gonna….gonna…”he groaned, before she felt him thrust in deep and tense up, coming and gasping and pressing into her until it passed.
It wasn’t like love. It wasn’t even really lust. She didn’t really know what to call it. He wasn’t her kind of guy, smart enough maybe, but the more time they spent talking, the less she really liked him. To make matters more complicated she had the strange feeling that he was using her for something. The questions he asked were getting more specific, and turning to subjects she didn’t want to talk about as much, at least not with him.
Her fantasies were fading, and she couldn’t paint Oz over his face anymore, couldn’t stop being Willow for a few hours in his arms. Three months after it started with that first drink, she was pretty sure it was over.
Still, when he called that night, she went to him…and when his tongue found her clit she squealed and squirmed against him. His fingers invaded her…two, then three. He nipped her thighs and belly and clit with lips and teeth and soothed with his tongue until her breathing shifted to the quick pace that signaled she was coming. Her hands twisted the sheets as she arched up and yelled out.
When she had relaxed, he slid up her body, his condom covered cock dragging along her thigh until it reached her opening. She didn’t need to close her eyes anymore as she spread her legs to offer him entrance. As their bodies moved together she looked at him, marking the way his eyes drifted to the right when it felt good, the way his tongue mimicked his cock, thrusting in and out of his lips.
His eyes closed tight and his thrusting stopped as he came. Willow closed her eyes then, as he slipped out of her and moved away to rid himself of the condom. When she opened them again, she knew she was done. His smile seemed insincere as he rolled to her side. “You okay?” he asked, reaching for the bottle of water beside the bed.
She nodded, then shook her head. “I don’t think I want to do this anymore.”
He looked at her, then took a long drink from the bottle. He didn’t seem to be surprised. “Can I ask why?”
“I…I just don’t think I like you very much.”
He nodded. “So you were using me.”
She hadn’t really thought of it like that. She sighed and sat up, sliding her feet to the floor. “Maybe I was. But you used me too.”
“Maybe I did.”
She started gathering her clothes. She dressed and stood at the end of the bed, expecting…well, something. He shrugged and set the bottle down. “We didn’t make any promises Willow. I just thought we could help each other.”
She picked up her backpack and smiled sadly. “If it means anything, I think it did help.”
His expression was cold, distant. “Yes, it did. See you around.”
Willow inhaled sharply and nodded, letting herself out. As soon as the door closed, Warren picked up the phone by the bed and dialed. “Yeah, it’s over. Did we get everything we needed? Good. No, I don’t think she suspected a thing. Who’s next on the list?”
Title: Maybe I Did
Pairing: Warren/Willow
Setting: BtVS, Season 5, post Oz, pre Tara
Ratign: NC-17
For: Name/LJ: Jennice
Buffy was busy patrolling. Xander was working. That mostly left Willow alone for the night. Oz was gone, and it hurt like someone had kicked her in the stomach. It had only been a week or so, and she still half expected him to come around the corner, that half smile aimed her way, that little head tilt that said so much more than words ever could.
Stifling a self-indulgent moan, Willow sank onto the couch in the dark back corner of a bar just off campus. She’d glamoured her ID card to get in, knowing none of her friends would think to look for her there. She could be alone and mope.
“You look like you could use a drink.”
She looked up to find a drink extended her way, something yellow and red with a straw poking out the top. “Thanks, but I-“
“It’s a drink Rosenburg, not some illicit street drug.” The man offering sat next to her on the couch, the drink held between them until she took it.
He was relatively new to the school. She’d seen him in a class or two. She nodded her thanks and sipped at the drink, surprised to find it fruity and refreshing. “Warren, I’m not exactly in the mood for company.”
He smiled and drank from his own cup. “I figured as much. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here…and almost never see you without your friends.”
“They’re…busy.” She tried not to let the hurt register. It wasn’t like they didn’t care, they did…they were worried about her.
“Leaving you to deal with the hurt of love gone wrong all alone.” He raised an eyebrow and shifted so that he was facing her, making the little couch a more intimate setting.
“No, it isn’t like that.”
His smile was soft, and despite a need for him to be wrong, Willow found her mind drifting back down that path of thought.
“Sure it is. You give and give to them, and then when you need them, they abandon you.”
Willow looked away, ashamed that she had thought the same thing all day. She knew it wasn’t true, but she felt it, and it hurt. Warren took her silence for admittance. “I know how it feels. You think you’ve found someone special, and you let yourself love them. Then they leave you.” He touched her arm, caressed it lightly. “Your friends can’t understand because it hasn’t happened to them…and your pain is uncomfortable for them.”
Willow drank from her cup and blinked in an effort to keep the tears at bay. Why was she even listening to this guy? She barely knew him. Obviously, he knew her, or had had his heart ripped out by someone too. Maybe that’s why he hit that particularly nail so well.
Willow shook her head and took a deep breath. “I should go. I have homework.”
She stood and he did too. “Okay, but if you decide you do want company, I’ll be around.”
Two nights later, Willow found herself on that same couch in that same bar. It had been a bad day and she’d spent two hours of it crying after finding a pair of Oz’s jeans in her closet. She sat in the corner of the couch, huddled into herself. She didn’t even look up at him when he appeared in front of her and held out a drink. She only took the glass and downed the beverage, making a face as the alcohol burned its way down.
“Want another?”
She nodded miserably and he went away, returning minutes later with a second drink. “Want to talk?”
Willow shook her head. No, talking wouldn’t help. Her mother might believe it solved everything, but Willow knew better. Some things you just had to beat into submission.
He touched her hand and she looked up. “Want to be alone?”
Again, she shook her head. “Can you…just sit with me for a bit?”
He smiled and sat next to her. A few minutes passed by and he put his arm around her. A few more minutes passed and she leaned into him.
Two drinks later he kissed her. It was a little kiss, not much more than the brush of his lips on hers. If she closed her eyes she could imagine they were Oz’s lips. She leaned in for more, but he stood and left her looking at him blankly.
“Come on, let me walk you home.” He helped her stand, steadying her when she swayed.
“Ooh, head spinning.”
He grinned and put his arm around her shoulders. “Lean on me. I shouldn’t have let you have those last two drinks.”
“Big girl,” she said, giggling.
“Big drunk girl,” he responded, brushing a stray strand of red hair from her face. “Come on. Fresh air will help.”
The walk back to the dorm was erratic, with long pauses for Willow to try to stop the world from swirling around her, meandering conversation and a path to match, in part set by Willow’s intoxication and in part because it was a beautiful night.
When they reached her door, he held her hands and kissed her forehead. “Take some aspirin before you go to sleep. It’ll help with the hangover.” He smiled at her and brushed her cheek. “Night.”
“Night,” she responded, turning to unlock the door. “Oh, and Warren?” He turned and she smiled. “Thanks.”
He nodded and disappeared down the hall. Willow let herself into the room, which was remarkably empty of Buffy, considering how late it was. Willow held on to furniture as she moved to put on pajamas…the ones with the fuzzy kitty that Oz had given her…and brush her teeth…and rummage for some aspirin, if Buffy hadn’t taken it all. She managed to take two before she crawled into bed, shivering as her bare feet hit the cold sheets.
“Hey Will.” The door opened to reveal Buffy, fumbling with her book bag and keys. “Janet stopped me on my way up here to tell me that you were with a man. An older man, to hear her tell it, with a cold face.”
Willow groaned and pulled the blankets up over her head. “Wish she would mind her business, and leave mine alone.”
“Willow?”
She sat up, and instantly regretted it as the room swam. “He walked me home.”
“Who he?” Buffy asked with a bit more perk in her voice than necessary as she perched on the edge of Willow’s bed.
“Nobody…just some guy I’ve seen round campus. I think he’s a sophomore.” Willow made a face and lay back down. “Now could you please make the room stop spinning like that?”
Buffy frowned at her. “Are you…have you been drinking?”
“Only a little.” Willow responded with a giggle. “He walked me home to make sure I was safe.”
“Does he have a name?”
“I’ll be sure to ask him next time I see him.” Willow said, unsure why she didn’t want Buffy to know, or what it was she didn’t want her to know.
Buffy sighed and stood, disappearing into the closet to change into pajamas too. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll talk about the dangers of alcohol and men who walk you home when you don’t even know their name.”
There were a hundred little anniversaries and every one of them made her ache all over again. The first time he saw her. The first time she saw him. The day they met. Their first touch, their first coffee date, their first kiss. The first time she gave him a gift. The first time they had survived a situation they shouldn’t have. Their first fight. Their first make up.
With her friends she wore a brave face. She never cried. Warren was right, they didn’t understand. At night, Oz filled her dreams. They kissed and touched and made love and somehow, when it was over Oz would be gone and in his place was Warren. Sometimes she woke up shaking. Sometimes she woke up and went looking for Warren.
On those nights she pretended she was someone else. They talked, mostly about technology and magic and they way they could be used to compliment one another. She wasn’t even surprised at how much he knew, or the questions he asked, though sometimes, when he would nod knowingly in response to something she said, she’d get a funny feeling. They also drank more than was wise, and kissed…touched…things she craved without Oz to give them to her.
Sometimes she let him be Oz in her mind. Sometimes she just let herself be someone with no name, no connections…just this…electricity connecting them. Sometimes it was somehow both of those things.
It was one of those nights. Her dreams had left her aroused and restless and she went looking for him in the usual place. He was there, with two friends, laughing. When his eyes caught hers he stopped laughing, and pushed his friends away.
She dispensed with the pleasantries, sliding onto his lap, her mouth hungry and urgent. His hands came to her hips, caressing her as his mouth opened to her insistent tongue. She created an image in her mind of someone not herself and of someone not Oz or Warren. Let us be nameless strangers. she thought, as her body warmed to his touch. His hands moved over her back, slipping under her sweater to spread long fingers against heated skin. When they finally broke for air, Warren tossed off the last of his drink and whispered in her ear, “Let’s get out of here.”
They never made his dorm room. Willow couldn’t control her hunger once she’d unleashed it. Her hands roamed over his ass, pulled him to a stop to kiss him again, tugged him forward toward the grove of trees dedicated to some Sunnydale forefather or school alumni. His hands moved under her sweater, kneading at her breasts as they kissed in the dark recess of semi-privacy that the trees afforded.
Her hands found his cock, already hard, and stroked it through his pants until he turned them around and pressed her up against the trunk of a tree. She groaned as he lifted her skirt, two fingers pressing into her panties.
“Are you sure?” he whispered as she fumbled with his zipper. She responded by fishing in his pocket for the condom she knew he was carrying and ripping it open. Once she had it on him, she pulled him closer and guided him
She was wet from the fantasy and the dream and his touch and he slid inside her easily, deeply, until they both gasped at the heat that passed between them. His thrusts were quick and sharp and Willow could feel she was already building to an orgasm. His hand slipped under her sweater to pull at a nipple and it began, her body shuddering around him. She moaned, biting her lip to keep him nameless as she rode out the waves of pleasure.
“Gonna….gonna…”he groaned, before she felt him thrust in deep and tense up, coming and gasping and pressing into her until it passed.
It wasn’t like love. It wasn’t even really lust. She didn’t really know what to call it. He wasn’t her kind of guy, smart enough maybe, but the more time they spent talking, the less she really liked him. To make matters more complicated she had the strange feeling that he was using her for something. The questions he asked were getting more specific, and turning to subjects she didn’t want to talk about as much, at least not with him.
Her fantasies were fading, and she couldn’t paint Oz over his face anymore, couldn’t stop being Willow for a few hours in his arms. Three months after it started with that first drink, she was pretty sure it was over.
Still, when he called that night, she went to him…and when his tongue found her clit she squealed and squirmed against him. His fingers invaded her…two, then three. He nipped her thighs and belly and clit with lips and teeth and soothed with his tongue until her breathing shifted to the quick pace that signaled she was coming. Her hands twisted the sheets as she arched up and yelled out.
When she had relaxed, he slid up her body, his condom covered cock dragging along her thigh until it reached her opening. She didn’t need to close her eyes anymore as she spread her legs to offer him entrance. As their bodies moved together she looked at him, marking the way his eyes drifted to the right when it felt good, the way his tongue mimicked his cock, thrusting in and out of his lips.
His eyes closed tight and his thrusting stopped as he came. Willow closed her eyes then, as he slipped out of her and moved away to rid himself of the condom. When she opened them again, she knew she was done. His smile seemed insincere as he rolled to her side. “You okay?” he asked, reaching for the bottle of water beside the bed.
She nodded, then shook her head. “I don’t think I want to do this anymore.”
He looked at her, then took a long drink from the bottle. He didn’t seem to be surprised. “Can I ask why?”
“I…I just don’t think I like you very much.”
He nodded. “So you were using me.”
She hadn’t really thought of it like that. She sighed and sat up, sliding her feet to the floor. “Maybe I was. But you used me too.”
“Maybe I did.”
She started gathering her clothes. She dressed and stood at the end of the bed, expecting…well, something. He shrugged and set the bottle down. “We didn’t make any promises Willow. I just thought we could help each other.”
She picked up her backpack and smiled sadly. “If it means anything, I think it did help.”
His expression was cold, distant. “Yes, it did. See you around.”
Willow inhaled sharply and nodded, letting herself out. As soon as the door closed, Warren picked up the phone by the bed and dialed. “Yeah, it’s over. Did we get everything we needed? Good. No, I don’t think she suspected a thing. Who’s next on the list?”