Oh, man, were we so busted!

I don’t think the janitor really knew what we were doing. I mean, by the time he managed to get the door open, we were apart and trying not to fall on our asses. He yelled a lot, though, and as luck would have it, Giles was walking by just in time to see us run out. No detour. No get out of jail free. It was straight to his office for our lecture.

Mostly Giles just cleaned his glasses, though, while Will tried to explain that we were just talking.

Just talking - except for the mondo hickey I left on her neck and our ragged, flushed appearance. She was really embarrassed. You can tell when she’s either embarrassed or nervous, ‘cause she launches into unmistakable Willow Babble and tries to overcompensate with lots of words. If you’ve ever witnessed it, you’d know how cute it really is, so I can’t help but just look at her with a goofy grin even though we’re in deep shit.

G-Man wasn’t impressed or phased by her babble for long, though. He launched into his own babble of sorts, where he used a lot of words like ‘standard’ and ‘dignity’ and ‘displays of affection’. Wait, that’s three words, but the point is that he wasn’t really pissed at us like I thought he was, just disappointed that we would stoop so low as to make out in a broom closet like some thoughtless teenagers.

I pointed that out to him too. Slayer yes, but still a teenager.

After he finished his speech and gave us each a stern look, he made sure we knew he wasn’t trying to discourage our courtship – his word, not mine – just looking out for our best interests. He’s a pretty great guy, my watcher.

But just when I thought it was over and we were free to leave – not that we were actually free since I had that stupid European History class to go to – Willow told him about our connection. She explained to him about how even on nights that she doesn’t come on patrol with me or I’m too tired to head back to her house, she still knows when I’ve been out slaying. She knows how my patrol went even before I tell her on the phone. It’s a freaky thing, really, but she can tell when I’ve been really worked up.

Giles wasn’t as surprised as either of us thought. He said he expected it.

Expected it!! I had to point out that him giving me a heads up about something like that would have been nice. He just did that weird smile thing, where he’s smiling but it actually looks like he’s grimacing ‘cause he’s not sure what to say.

His explanation was simpler than I expected, though. Apparently he was sent to Sunnydale as not only a slayer’s watcher, but as Willow’s too. How rad is that?

Willow’s got some major power in her and he’s been helping her to slowly unlock and explore that power. Some seer in England predicted that a really powerful witch and a slayer would fall in love over the hellmouth – I’m not too clear on the exact prediction, ‘cause Giles likes to use a lot of big words and I was so stunned about the news anyway.

So we’re like, meant to be together or something. Or maybe we’re not really meant to be together, just that, that seer saw we were going to be together and Giles was put in charge of making sure we were both looked after. Or something like that. Jesus, all this mystical shit really confuses me sometimes!

Willow really gets it, though, and I know she’ll explain it to me a lot better than Giles did. He’s good with the training and showing me how to kill demons and stuff, but sometimes the other crap is just completely lost on me.

So yeah, we’re like together and it was predicted. How freakin’ insane is that?! Wicked cool, though. No more freakiness about our connection and no more wondering why I feel so strongly for Willow, when I’ve never ever felt like this for anyone else before. No more wondering why it feels so damn right.

*** *********************************************************************************************************************

She’s giddy.

I think I’m the only one who ever really gets to see Faith giddy. She never acts like this around Xander or Cordelia, or even Giles. But with me she really just lets loose and becomes an entirely different, more relaxed Faith. That makes me feel special, that she feels that comfortable with me.

She thinks it’s awesome about our connection; that we’re supposed to be together. She can’t stop talking about how cool it’s going to be when I’m magically strong enough to counter her strength and speed and we can go off and fight together. As it stands now, she’s usually the one doing the dusting and I’m hiding behind a tombstone or a tree. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not looking forward to really discovering what I’m capable of, but I don’t want it to be all that I am.

Faith’s the slayer, The Chosen One, and she’s okay with that being who she is. I want to be a witch; a powerful witch or just a semi-powerful one, it doesn’t really bother me right now. But there’s so much more I want to do. So much more I want to be. I don’t want to be Willow Rosenberg, witch. I want a lot of other things to define me.

I just hope Giles and Faith will be supportive enough to let me do the other things I want, to let more than just my magical ability define me.

She’s not so giddy anymore. She’s looking right at me, waiting for me to say something, which means she’s asked me something and I’ve missed it because I’ve been caught up in my own niggling worries about what all this connection stuff might mean for us.

She repeats the question and it brings a smile to my face. Ice cream. She wants ice cream. What a perfectly Faithy thing to want when she’s in a good mood! To everyone else she’s sex-bomb, killing machine, badass girl. To me she’s just Faith. My best friend and hopefully, some time soon, lover. She’s younger than me, and yet it’s only at very rare times like these that I really see the kid in her.

I tell her we can get ice cream on one condition. I want to see her room at Giles’ place.


My room. She wants to see my room.

My room where all my stuff is, things I brought with me from Boston, or just collected while in town. Things that Willow has never seen because I was always too embarrassed about them.

But I can’t deny her that. I mean, if we’re freakin’ meant to be together, then I guess it’s cool if she sees my room; if I let her sit on my bed and look at my stuff. I’m in her room almost every night, and she’s never even been in mine once. Hell, we hardly ever make it to back to the apartment at all. The few times Willow’s been there it’s been in a strictly group setting - with Xander in tow, throwing lusty glances at me and big, ugly, green with envy ones at Will while he’s supposed to be helping out with the research on how I kill some big bad.

I agree, of course, and the next thing I know we’re walking back to my place in relative calm and quiet. It feels good to just walk with her. With no drama or tension between us. With no big battle on the horizon. Just us enjoying the warm evening air, and each other.

Fuck, I’m getting all sentimental now too. Willow just has that effect on me.

I know it’s stupid. I mean it’s just my bedroom. But I never even had a bedroom with Mom back in Boston – we lived in a one bedroom and I had the couch. I never really had any toys or anything - anything I had I either stole or some neighbor gave to me. Not much, not that I stayed inside a lot. I didn’t like being around my Mom much when she was drunk; it was much easier to be home when she was passed out.

So I like having a bedroom, a little place of my own. Solitude and privacy, those are awesome things. G-Man’s been pretty great about both. He says that just ‘cause he’s my watcher and I’m living with him, that doesn’t give him the right to deny me any privacy I might need – so he doesn’t even come down this hallway unless it’s to wake me up for school when I’ve overslept. Pretty decent of him. And with the money he gives me as a sort of allowance, I can take Willow out to a movie every once in awhile or buy her stuff.

I also pick myself up something every once in awhile. Books mostly. Music. I don’t even think Willow knows I like to read that much. But I really do. When I was back in Boston, I’d go to one of the libraries and just sit and read, some days until they closed. It was better than staying out on the street, fighting. Or having my Mom belt me around while she was still working on getting drunk. It was like, an escape. I don’t read as much now ‘cause I got the slaying gig – and Willow of course – but I still like to come back here and read for a few hours.

Willow seemed pretty surprised by the sheer number of books I have. I don’t know what she was expecting, but I practically needed to help her shut her mouth. It embarrassed me a little, her gawking like that at my bookshelves, but I guess I should’ve expected it, with me never bringing her back here and all.

She tells me she had no idea I loved to read so much. She says she recognizes some of the titles because they’re books she’s read and remembers telling me about them. I blush at that and admit if she tells me about a book I’ve never read before I go out first thing and buy it. I like buying books. I never owned them before; I couldn’t even take them from the library since you need a parent’s approval and all that to get a card. For some reason I could never bring myself to steal a book.

I just sat on the edge of my bed and watched her look at everything. She smiled at the pictures of us I had up everywhere. Giles got me this huge corkboard thing to hang on the wall over my desk. He told me to put stuff I needed to remember for school on there, but I covered almost the whole thing with pictures. Never had those growing up either. She tried the yo-yo and we both laughed when she couldn’t even get it back up once. She touched everything, just running her fingertips over books and CDs and toys and pictures.

She told me she thought my room was great. She said she wished I’d brought her back here months ago. She said she feels like she’s been missing out on a big part of my life. That made me feel kinda bad; so I pulled her into a big hug and told her I wasn’t trying to keep her out. We laid down on my bed together, holding each other close, her head on my chest. I explained about my childhood, about how it was before I got called and how I never really had anything or even a private place of my own. How difficult it was for me.

She kissed me hard then, passionately, like she was trying to make all my fear and pain and the badness of my childhood go away through her touch. And you know, sometimes it seems like she just might do it some day.

She crawled on top of me, straddling my hips, kissing me and holding me tight, and I don’t think there’s anything quite as good as that feeling – the way her small body works over mine, the way our connection pulls us together. I can feel her heart pounding. I can smell her. And I know now that she can do the same thing, that she feels me through our connection too.

It’s intense and maybe a little bit insane, but oh Christ, is it fucking awesome!


We go to her place a lot now. Well, Giles’ place really. I always forget that.

I like lying on her bed with her, listening to music, talking and making out. It’s a nice change from being at my house where my parents are down the hall. I mean Giles’ bedroom is upstairs so there’s a little more privacy for us if anything should happen.

Not that anything’s happened yet. Still no sex. But not because she’s pulling away; it just doesn’t seem that big a deal now that we’ve talked about it. We make out and sometimes things get heated so we go a little bit further, but eventually we calm down and just relax and talk.

She still tells me about her plans. She never mentions that the last two slayers were killed shortly after they came here. She never says anything about the possibility that she won’t be here to do all these crazy things she wants to do. But then again, I probably do enough of that negative thinking for the both of us. And I think sometimes she knows how much I worry about that, so she keeps talking like nothing will ever stop her. Like no seasoned vamp could ever possibly take her light away.

And sometimes I believe her. Sometimes I have a lot of faith in what she says, that she’ll be around for a lot longer than anyone expects her to.

There’s some big impending doom right now, though. We’ve been working with Giles and even Xander and Cordelia have been in full research mode with us, trying to find out how to stop it. Sometimes Faith has to go train, just to work off some steam because she gets so frustrated with the researching; all she really wants to do is go kill whatever baddy is trying to end the world this week. Sometimes I’ll stop researching for a bit and go watch her. It gets me worked up and we find ourselves groping and making out in the stacks. We can’t help it, with our connection becoming so strong, and our hormones running rampant, we just can’t keep our hands off each other.

And yet still no sex.

I think about the possibility of her being killed in this battle and I cling to her tighter. I hold her to me and will her to be okay.

The nights she comes back bruised and battered I tend to her wounds. I wrap her hands where she’s pounded into some demon’s face until her knuckles are bloody. I put dressing on the gashes in her arm or forehead. I kiss her wounds and then her dimpled lips and I hold her and try to convey through my touch how much she means to me.

The demon activity has been insane lately. It’s scary; I’ve never seen it like this. Something big is coming; the vamps and demons in town are all riled up over it. Faith says it’s safer for me to stay home while she patrols. Even with my developing magic skills, I’ll likely get hurt – or distract her. I know she’s right about this, as much as I don’t want to admit it. She’ll be too concerned with protecting me that she won’t be able stay focused on her slaying.

I agree to do research, to work on my magic with Giles and let her do the actual, physical fighting. But I don’t agree to stop worrying.

Through our connection I know if she’s had a good battle or not. I know when it’s been an especially tough one. I know when she’s been satisfied with a good kill… and when she hasn’t.


There were a lot of them.

I mean, a lot. A whole fucking cult.

They came out of nowhere and suddenly I was surrounded. I would throw one or two off of me and three more were back on me in seconds. I lost my footing and suddenly I was on the ground with them on top of me. It was a blur of scaly arms pounding my body bloody.

And I thought, this is it. This is how I die. I’m 17 and the slayer and my life is over.

That’s when I felt this huge blast of heat and those scummy demons were thrown off me. I looked around, not sure what the hell was going on, and I saw Willow floating about a foot off the ground, chanting. And those damn demons were writhing around on the ground, holding their heads. I’m still not sure what the hell she was doing to them but the next thing I knew they all disappeared. No messy demon spew to clean up.

I watched her drop to the ground and run over to me. I grabbed her up in my arms and held her. I admit that part of me is pretty embarrassed to have my girl be the one to save my ass. But at that particular moment I wanted nothing more than to just touch her. I didn’t even realize I was telling her I love her over and over again until she started shooshing me.

I guess it finally hit me that I really am in love with her. I mean I knew I loved her, but this was a whole new plane of realization. I was on the ground, just recently thinking I was a goner, and Willow had saved my life. There was nothing I knew more at that very moment – I love Willow Rosenberg with all my heart and soul.

We were kissing, passionately. Our lips and tongues crashing against each other, our arms and hands trying to touch more of each other, pulling, trying to get more contact. She was all I could feel. All I wanted to feel. She was straddling my thigh, riding it. I had one hand on her breast, rubbing her through her thin shirt.

I don’t know what came over us.

I think if it hadn’t been for the whistling and catcalls of those two newbie vamps, I would have taken her right there by that mausoleum.

I had to push her away and stake them before they got on my nerves any more. Besides, I was itching for something to kill and they were just stupid enough to think they could take me on. I might have almost lost my life to a horde of demon cultists from some hell dimension, but I can still take on a couple of idiot vamps.

When I turned back to her, I realized how hot she was. Not that I’ve never realized this, my girl’s damn sexy. But sitting there on the ground, her mouth hanging open slightly, her lips slightly swollen from our kissing and the way her chest was rising and falling – oh and her eyes; those piercing eyes, staring at me like I was her prey. I knew exactly what she wanted and I definitely wanted it too.

But I wasn’t about to let us do it in the cemetery.

I took her hand and helped her up, and as quick as we could we made our way back to her house.

She told me she didn’t kill those demons, just sent them back to their dimension, where she’s bound them for eternity. Giles said he was surprised she thought of that, considering we usually kill everything, and those particular demons are like little fucking insects – when you kill one, they send off a sort of radar to the others, bringing more. Smart girl, my Willow.

Plus, she saved my life. Gotta love a girl who can do that sort of thing in a fix.

She told me she could feel me. She knew I was in trouble and she came. She didn’t even have to search for me, she knew exactly where I was through our connection. Nifty little thing we have here, isn’t it? Willow says she still doesn’t know how she managed what she did. She says she knew what she wanted to do, because she had read about the Cult of Gorean – the demons that almost turned me into chow chow – but she’s still not sure how she was able to muster the strength and magical power to pull it off.

Giles says it probably worked through our connection, borrowing from my Slayer Strength, and her emotions – her being scared for me and mad at those Gorean bitches. Which tells me to never piss her off.


I never ever in a million trillion years thought it would feel so wonderful.

Her hands. Her mouth. Her body moving against mine. And the way she tastes! Oh my Goddess, I never knew tasting another girl could be so good. Oh, and the way she touches me, I’ve never felt so safe, so loved, and I’ve definitely never felt such pleasure!

There was some definite fumbling around at first. I was so turned on, I just wanted her, all of her, on top of me, under me, inside me – it was all we could do to actually get our clothes off for all the groping and clinging we were doing.

I love the way she reacts to me. The way she groans when I tell her she’s getting me wet. When I tell her to keep touching me and to not stop. I love when I’m kissing her belly, how she has her hand on the top of my head, telling me to go down on her, without forcing me down. It makes me smile because I know exactly what she wants but I’m teasing and taking my time. I love that she’s so gentle with me.

She’s told me about some of the times in her past, how rough she was. How she was all ‘get some and get gone’. How she knows she probably hurt some of the girls she was with, how they probably wanted a lot more than she was willing to give. She gives me all of herself. She’s never been rough or harsh with me, never pushed me away.

She’s an entirely different Faith with me. It’s not like she’s two-faced, she’s just had years to build up her defenses for everyone else, but she lets them down around me and just acts like the normal 17 year old she is.

When she touches me I know she loves me. I know she wants me with all the passion that I want her. I can feel her on a whole other level – not just physical, but through our connection. It allows me to touch her more deeply than anyone else ever has. It lets me know just what she needs, and I know that it’s the same for her. She touches me in all the right places, sometimes hard, sometimes soft, but it’s always just what I need.

We’ve become heat and passion and nothing else in the world will ever feel as good as having Faith pressed up against me while we’re making love.

Making love. That’s such a sweet term. But we’re not making love – we already are love. It’s something altogether magical that we’re making.


Willow… Willow… Willow…

I love this girl. I love with her with all my heart.

I’ve never felt so good. So alive. I’ve never really believed that I could do all the things I dream up, the things I read in books and magazines. But being with Willow, having our connection, it really makes me believe I can succeed at everything I want to do.

And yeah, sometimes I step back and think about that, and remind myself that I’m the slayer and probably won’t live long enough to do all of them. And I tell myself that I’m just in love; Willow’s not going to make all my dreams come true.

Is she?

It feels like that sometimes. Because when I get kinda quiet and think about all that negative stuff, she touches my cheek or picks up my hand in hers and kisses my knuckles, and then I’m back to believing. Believing that she’s my angel. Like she saved me from some big nasty fall.

When I’m in her arms I feel like I’ve come home. I feel at peace.

I can kiss her and touch her, explore her entire body for hours and never get enough. Touching her is like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my life. When we finally made love, it was like a dam opening, like floodgates bursting open. Something was tapped into that night that I never knew existed. And every night since then has been a reawakening of that.

I’m pretty sure it’s called Love. Something I’ve never experienced with anyone else. A few times I wondered about it, but never felt it. Not like how it says it’s supposed to feel in the books. Not like how you see in the movies. But with Willow… is it too cheesy to say it’s perfect?

I think about my life before I came to Sunnydale, before I met Willow, and I compare it to now. And I mean, almost anything is better than the way things were for me in Boston, but I can’t help but wonder how much different it would have been for me here without Willow.

Worlds. A complete world of difference.

And Giles helped in that too, of course. I never expected someone assigned to be my watcher could care for me the way he does. He almost feels like… a father. I mean, my dad wasn’t around, so I wouldn’t really know what that’d feel like, but you get an idea about shit like that from TV and books and Giles just seems to fit what a father is supposed to be.

I’ve never told him that, though. I get all embarrassed about it.

Sometimes I feel like I changed a lot since coming here. I worry that I may not be as tough, but Willow assures me that I’m still all ruff n’ tumble, but that she likes my soft side too. I always blush at that. And then we kiss and sometimes there’s tickling and lots of laughter. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t use my Slayer Strength to my advantage sometimes. Although, Willow is getting pretty good with that magic stuff, just last week she tickled me with ‘invisible hands’.

I didn’t think that was very fair.

It’s funny sometimes, the things you feel. When I first met Willow I felt something, I just wasn’t sure what it was. I knew there was more to her than just a cute li’l body and brains. She goes about her day, every day, with all this incredible power, and no one knows. People have a tendency to push her aside, to even make fun of her because she’s brainy and shy and sometimes she has this funny way of babbling.

I’ve had to have a few ‘talks’ with people about the way they treat her. She doesn’t know that, though - not that I would lie if she asked me about it, I’ve just never seen the point in telling her.

But, she has all this power and no one knows. No one knows the incredible strength and courage she has. I’m amazed by her every day; simply for putting up with all the crap that she has to deal with. For being a part of the battle even if she’s not out there with me in the cemeteries and alleyways.

And because she knows all about me now and hasn’t backed away one inch. Because she’s the one person who really knows both the slayer and Faith and what we’re capable of.

And maybe that’s why I was so drawn to her from the beginning. Because my Slayer Senses picked up on all that magic, on all the possibilities of being with someone like that. Because Willow and me are so much more alike than we realized.

And, I think sometimes too, that there’s this weird thing called fate.

And it works, even for a slayer and a witch to meet over a hellmouth.


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