BtVS Fic: You Have Mail
Title: You Have Mail
Fandom: BtVS
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Willow, Malcom/Moloch, Buffy, Xander.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: I Robot, You Jane.
Summary: Willow loves getting mail on her computer, until the ‘boy’ she meets online turns out to be too good to be true.
Word Count: 1198
Written For: Challenge 89: Mail at beattheblackdog
Disclaimer: I don’t own BtVS, or the characters.
‘You have mail.’
Ever since the advent of chatrooms and instant messaging, hearing those three simple words and seeing the little mail icon flashing on her computer screen has filled Willow with geeker joy. It’s so amazing to be able to communicate almost instantaneously with anyone who has a computer, no matter where in the world they happen to be. It beats long distance phone calls flat. Not that she’s ever phoned anyone long distance, but still…
Okay, sure, some of the messages she receives are unwanted, spam mail and stuff, but most are from friends, which is way cooler. Of course, not all of her friends are lucky enough to have computers, they’re still pretty expensive and many people can’t afford them, but one day, Willow’s certain, prices will come down and then practically everyone will have a computer in their home. It’s going to be brilliant! She can hardly wait!
For a long time, emails and messages were few and far between, and all the more exciting for their rarity, but that was before she met him. Malcolm. Just thinking his name makes Willow feel giddy and breathless, tingly all over. She’s never connected with anyone so quickly and easily, or on so many levels; not even Xander and they’ve been friends forever. Malcolm just understands her so completely; it’s as if she’s always known him. They share the same interests, and they agree on everything, or almost everything. He’s perfect!
With the exception of Xander, Willow’s always had difficulty talking to boys, but Malcolm makes everything so easy and comfortable; she can be herself with him. She’s sure it isn’t just that they’re talking via computer; if they were to meet in person, she’s almost certain it would be exactly the same, because they really care about each other. The idea of maybe one day meeting face to face makes her nervous, but in an excited, butterflies in her stomach kind of way, like waiting in line to ride the roller coaster or something.
The only downside is that Buffy and Xander don’t understand. She’d thought, hoped, they’d be happy for her, but maybe they’re jealous that she’s found someone so special, someone who’s taking up all her time. She’d rather talk to Malcolm than hang out with her friends. That doesn’t make her a bad person, does it?
She and Malcolm talk for hours, literally, messages flying back and forth as fast as they can type them and click ‘send’. Sometimes they talk all night, sharing thoughts, and hopes, and dreams, and he’s so incredibly sweet and romantic. Willow can’t remember ever feeling like this before, not even about Xander. She’s walking on air. Could it be that she’s falling in love? Or has she already fallen? Every time she sees that little envelope icon flashing her heart skips a beat, just in case it’s him, and when it’s not, the disappointment makes her heart sink into her shoes.
When they’re not talking, she misses him, and when they are, the time flies by so fast. Too fast. Willow’s never skipped classes before, but now she does, and it’s so easy it almost makes her wonder why she’s never done it before. She barely even feels guilty about it. She’ll do anything to spend more time with Malcolm, even if it’s only online.
Only now he wants to meet, and Willow thinks she wants that too, but Elmwood is a long way away, eighty miles or so. She hopes he doesn’t suggest they meet halfway because that would be a problem; she doesn’t have transport. Maybe he does, and can drive to Sunnydale. He’s eighteen after all, so he probably has his licence; she’s never asked, it hasn’t been a matter of importance until now. It’s just, now there’s something’s a bit… off about Malcolm. He knows things, about Buffy, that Willow doesn’t remember telling him. For the first time, she cuts off their conversation early. She needs to think.
As usual the house is empty when Willow gets home from school. There’s nothing odd about that though; her parents both work long hours, and seldom get home before she does. She goes straight to her bedroom.
‘You have mail.’
The expressionless voice issuing from her computer almost makes her jump. The mail icon is active, so she clicks on it to open the new message. Unsurprisingly it’s from Malcolm.
‘No more waiting. I need you to see me.’
It’s odd phrasing, but she shrugs that thought aside and turns off the monitor; she can’t deal with this right now, she has homework. Besides, it’s a little creepy; maybe Buffy was right and she should have been more cautious.
‘You have mail.’
The computer turning back on by itself is even creepier than the message, but before she has a chance to consider the implications the ringing doorbell distracts her. When she goes to answer it, someone grabs her, shoves something over her mouth and nose that smells weird… and then there’s only darkness.
If coming to lying on a table in a strange place is scary and confusing, seeing ‘Malcolm’ in person is about a thousand times worse. Willow’s spent so much time daydreaming about him, trying to imagine what he might look like, but this never crossed her mind, because she always pictured an eighteen-year-old boy, not a robot with huge horns and a demonic face! She’s been spilling her soul to something that isn’t even human, which in her opinion gives her every reason to be freaked out. You really can never tell who you might be talking to in an online chatroom. It’s a lesson she should have learned sooner, but better late than never.
Willow has been hanging out with Buffy for months though, and Moloch isn’t the first monster she’s faced. She’s scared, of course she is, but not the helpless teenage girl she used to be. She’s also angry; at Moloch for lying to her, and at herself for not only falling for his lies, but for him too. It hurts to realise the truth; he never loved her, he’s a demon, incapable of such a tender emotion. She can stand up to him, but she can’t hope to defeat him, not all by herself.
She counts herself lucky that despite the way she’s been acting, her friends haven’t given up on her. Unlike Malcolm, she knows Buffy and Xander genuinely care about her, and it gives her a warm feeling inside that they’ve come to save her. There’s also a fair amount of satisfaction in seeing Malcolm explode, courtesy of Buffy.
In the aftermath, although computers are still Willow’s thing, the little mail icon on her screen has somehow lost its appeal. So have chatrooms. She’s had firsthand experience of the way people can pretend to be anyone they want when using them, and not everyone is as honest as Willow Rosenberg. She’ll have to be a lot more careful who she trusts in future.
For the time being, the only mail Willow wants to receive is the kind delivered by the mailman: postcards, and letters, and birthday presents. It just feels a whole lot safer.
The End
Fandom: BtVS
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Willow, Malcom/Moloch, Buffy, Xander.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: I Robot, You Jane.
Summary: Willow loves getting mail on her computer, until the ‘boy’ she meets online turns out to be too good to be true.
Word Count: 1198
Written For: Challenge 89: Mail at beattheblackdog
Disclaimer: I don’t own BtVS, or the characters.
‘You have mail.’
Ever since the advent of chatrooms and instant messaging, hearing those three simple words and seeing the little mail icon flashing on her computer screen has filled Willow with geeker joy. It’s so amazing to be able to communicate almost instantaneously with anyone who has a computer, no matter where in the world they happen to be. It beats long distance phone calls flat. Not that she’s ever phoned anyone long distance, but still…
Okay, sure, some of the messages she receives are unwanted, spam mail and stuff, but most are from friends, which is way cooler. Of course, not all of her friends are lucky enough to have computers, they’re still pretty expensive and many people can’t afford them, but one day, Willow’s certain, prices will come down and then practically everyone will have a computer in their home. It’s going to be brilliant! She can hardly wait!
For a long time, emails and messages were few and far between, and all the more exciting for their rarity, but that was before she met him. Malcolm. Just thinking his name makes Willow feel giddy and breathless, tingly all over. She’s never connected with anyone so quickly and easily, or on so many levels; not even Xander and they’ve been friends forever. Malcolm just understands her so completely; it’s as if she’s always known him. They share the same interests, and they agree on everything, or almost everything. He’s perfect!
With the exception of Xander, Willow’s always had difficulty talking to boys, but Malcolm makes everything so easy and comfortable; she can be herself with him. She’s sure it isn’t just that they’re talking via computer; if they were to meet in person, she’s almost certain it would be exactly the same, because they really care about each other. The idea of maybe one day meeting face to face makes her nervous, but in an excited, butterflies in her stomach kind of way, like waiting in line to ride the roller coaster or something.
The only downside is that Buffy and Xander don’t understand. She’d thought, hoped, they’d be happy for her, but maybe they’re jealous that she’s found someone so special, someone who’s taking up all her time. She’d rather talk to Malcolm than hang out with her friends. That doesn’t make her a bad person, does it?
She and Malcolm talk for hours, literally, messages flying back and forth as fast as they can type them and click ‘send’. Sometimes they talk all night, sharing thoughts, and hopes, and dreams, and he’s so incredibly sweet and romantic. Willow can’t remember ever feeling like this before, not even about Xander. She’s walking on air. Could it be that she’s falling in love? Or has she already fallen? Every time she sees that little envelope icon flashing her heart skips a beat, just in case it’s him, and when it’s not, the disappointment makes her heart sink into her shoes.
When they’re not talking, she misses him, and when they are, the time flies by so fast. Too fast. Willow’s never skipped classes before, but now she does, and it’s so easy it almost makes her wonder why she’s never done it before. She barely even feels guilty about it. She’ll do anything to spend more time with Malcolm, even if it’s only online.
Only now he wants to meet, and Willow thinks she wants that too, but Elmwood is a long way away, eighty miles or so. She hopes he doesn’t suggest they meet halfway because that would be a problem; she doesn’t have transport. Maybe he does, and can drive to Sunnydale. He’s eighteen after all, so he probably has his licence; she’s never asked, it hasn’t been a matter of importance until now. It’s just, now there’s something’s a bit… off about Malcolm. He knows things, about Buffy, that Willow doesn’t remember telling him. For the first time, she cuts off their conversation early. She needs to think.
As usual the house is empty when Willow gets home from school. There’s nothing odd about that though; her parents both work long hours, and seldom get home before she does. She goes straight to her bedroom.
‘You have mail.’
The expressionless voice issuing from her computer almost makes her jump. The mail icon is active, so she clicks on it to open the new message. Unsurprisingly it’s from Malcolm.
‘No more waiting. I need you to see me.’
It’s odd phrasing, but she shrugs that thought aside and turns off the monitor; she can’t deal with this right now, she has homework. Besides, it’s a little creepy; maybe Buffy was right and she should have been more cautious.
‘You have mail.’
The computer turning back on by itself is even creepier than the message, but before she has a chance to consider the implications the ringing doorbell distracts her. When she goes to answer it, someone grabs her, shoves something over her mouth and nose that smells weird… and then there’s only darkness.
If coming to lying on a table in a strange place is scary and confusing, seeing ‘Malcolm’ in person is about a thousand times worse. Willow’s spent so much time daydreaming about him, trying to imagine what he might look like, but this never crossed her mind, because she always pictured an eighteen-year-old boy, not a robot with huge horns and a demonic face! She’s been spilling her soul to something that isn’t even human, which in her opinion gives her every reason to be freaked out. You really can never tell who you might be talking to in an online chatroom. It’s a lesson she should have learned sooner, but better late than never.
Willow has been hanging out with Buffy for months though, and Moloch isn’t the first monster she’s faced. She’s scared, of course she is, but not the helpless teenage girl she used to be. She’s also angry; at Moloch for lying to her, and at herself for not only falling for his lies, but for him too. It hurts to realise the truth; he never loved her, he’s a demon, incapable of such a tender emotion. She can stand up to him, but she can’t hope to defeat him, not all by herself.
She counts herself lucky that despite the way she’s been acting, her friends haven’t given up on her. Unlike Malcolm, she knows Buffy and Xander genuinely care about her, and it gives her a warm feeling inside that they’ve come to save her. There’s also a fair amount of satisfaction in seeing Malcolm explode, courtesy of Buffy.
In the aftermath, although computers are still Willow’s thing, the little mail icon on her screen has somehow lost its appeal. So have chatrooms. She’s had firsthand experience of the way people can pretend to be anyone they want when using them, and not everyone is as honest as Willow Rosenberg. She’ll have to be a lot more careful who she trusts in future.
For the time being, the only mail Willow wants to receive is the kind delivered by the mailman: postcards, and letters, and birthday presents. It just feels a whole lot safer.
The End