Categories > TV > Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Returned to Active Duty
Chapter 3. - Doing the Best Friend Thing.
0 reviewsPost Chosen and Not Fade Away: As Willow's relationship with Kennedy rapidly disintegrates, Tara is resurrected by the Powers that Be. But, of course, things can never run smoothly in the Buffyverse
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Chapter 3. - Doing the Best Friend Thing.
Buffy Summers was a slayer; not The Slayer anymore, not since Willow's major league mojo had all at once turned every potential slayer into a full slayer. If she allowed herself to actually stop and think about it, sometimes Buffy missed that, being the one and only. It had made her feel special, if only in an overly-violent, pretty much guaranteed short lifespan kind of way.
Of course, if you wanted to get picky, that hadn't really been the case since her first year in dear old unmourned Sunnydale. What with the whole dying thing, there had been Kendra, and then Faith. Still, even when they had been around, it was still mostly her, her responsibility, her calling, her ass on the line on a nightly basis.
Now, it didn't have to be. She'd been through so much, died twice, saved the world so many times that she was hard pressed to count them all. Everyone had agreed that she could relax, take the time to try and live a life that, if not normal, was at least more normal than the one she'd had up till now.
So here she was, in Rome, the Eternal City, living large with her sister Dawn, and for some reason she couldn't begin to fathom, Andrew. Still, with the chance for a normal life closer than ever, Buffy still found herself doing this. And enjoying it.
Buffy ducked the newborn vamp's wild punch with ease, unleashing a snap-kick into her opponents knee. He fell to his knees with a decidedly less than masculine whimper that wasn't doing much for his fledgling reputation as an undead fiend. Almost as an afterthought, Buffy slammed an elbow into the back of his head and the vampire went down, hard. A swift thrust of Mr. Pointy and the newbies career as one of the evil dead was over almost before it had begun.
"Ya know, it's almost disappointing when I run across a vampire that doesn't possess the martial arts skills you guys seem to mysteriously develop from out of nowhere." The second vampire, one older and more accomplished than his late, unlamented companion, kicked the slayer in the face, and she crashed backwards into a tombstone.
"Then something like this happens, and I remember that it's of the good when the bad guys suck at fighting."
The vampire charged at her, but this time Buffy was ready for him, using the vamp's own momentum to flip him through the air and face first into the ground. Seizing him by the scruff of his neck and the belt of his trousers, the slayer hoisted the vampire into the air, raising him above her head and slamming him down, back first into the same headstone she'd crashed into. Something important-sounding cracked loudly, and the vamp convulsed in pain. Buffy spared the bloodsucker any further concern about the state of his spine by staking him.
Even as the vampire dissolved into dust, Buffy turned to confront the final member of her impromptu workout session. The female vampire, who looked to be around the same age as Buffy herself, simply stood there, a terrified expression on her demonic visage.
"Where do you guys pick that stuff up, anyway? Late night classes at the Y? Or is there some kind of school for demons?" Buffy mock scowled at the frightened vampire's complete lack of response. She almost seemed to have frozen in terror. Buffy thought it might have been almost funny if it wasn't quite so pathetic.
"I surrender!" blurted the vampire out of nowhere, and Buffy blinked in astonishment.
"You surrender? You're not allowed to surrender!" Buffy replied with a scowl. "You're an evil, bloodsucking fiend!" The vampire shifted her feet awkwardly, her ridged brow creasing even more as she desperately tried to think of a way to save herself.
"I'm ... reformed!" she finally blurted. "You don't stake reformed vampires, right?"
"You're not reformed! Five seconds ago you were ready to eat me! That doesn't exactly scream reform!"
"I didn't know that you were a slayer then," objected the female vampire, certain that this stellar little piece of logic would derail the slayers' objections to her continued existence. Buffy just shook her head; this vampire was so stupid it was amazing that she'd survived her first night.
"Again, not much with the reforming. That's just plain, everyday cowardice." Buffy raised her stake and the vamp recoiled, flailing her arms back and forth in a vehement denial.
"If you stake me now, I'll never get the chance to reform," wailed the vampire pathetically.
Buffy enthusiastically jabbed a finger over the vamp's shoulder, a terribly cheesy grin on her lips. "Oooh! Look, a helpless, delicious co-ed!"
"Where?" Instinctually, the vamp turned, only to find an empty street. "Huh?" she muttered with a frown. Then she turned to ash as Buffy staked her from behind.
"Stupidest villain ever," Buffy quipped with a quiet snort of laughter.
----------
Later that night, Buffy cautiously sidled up to the door of the apartment that she shared with Dawn, and regretfully, Andrew. Why exactly she was still letting the little nerd crash at her place still escaped her. One of these days she was going to have to make sure he found his own place again, and if he burned this one down too... well let's just say hell would freeze over before she'd willingly live with Andrew again.
Moving with all of the stealth that she could muster, Buffy pulled her keys from the pocket of her fashionably stylish slacks, and gingerly inserted her door key. Turning the key excessively slowly, Buffy eased the door open and slipped into the darkness beyond. Just as carefully, she eased the door closed behind her. With any luck, I'm home free. A light flared behind her, and Buffy winced as a cold, angry voice ripped through the silence.
"Exactly just what time do you call this?"
Crap. Buffy's shoulders sagged in defeat and she turned to confront her nemesis. Dawn Summers sat primly on the couch in the center of their living room, legs and arms crossed, with an intensely annoyed expression on her young face. In Buffy's opinion, the whole interrogator vibe Dawn was projected was spoiled somewhat by her fluffy, pink pajamas that were liberally covered with little yellow duckies.
"Well?" demanded Dawn impatiently.
"Well, what?" replied the older Summers as insolently as she could manage.
"You were supposed to be home hours ago," snapped Dawn. "I was worried."
Buffy, channeling her inner, oh-so sullen teenager, shrugged and began intently studying the walls of their apartment. Dawn snorted in disgust, but kept up her intense examination of her elder sister. Buffy cracked first.
"Look, I just did a little patrol. No biggie. It's all of the good."
"Buffy," Dawn sighed in exasperation. "You don't have to patrol every night any more. There are other slayers around to keep the local undead population busy, you know."
"Yeah, but I'm still the best."
"God! Arrogant much!" Dawn jumped to her feet and stormed over to her sister. Grabbing Buffy's head with both hands, she forced her sister to confront her face to face. "It doesn't have to be you risking your life all the time anymore."
"Hey, some people are trying to sleep," whined a third voice suddenly. Buffy and Dawn turned simultaneously to regard Andrew standing in the doorway to the room where he slept. The sandy haired nerd visibly wilted beneath the force of both sisters' scowls, and he slunk back into his room, muttering irritably to himself. The sisters resumed their conversation as if there had been no interruption at all.
"I know that, it's just ..." Buffy's voice trailed off into silence.
"I do get it you know," Dawn answered softly. "I just lost you once already. I don't want to do it again any time soon."
"You won't," promised Buffy, enfolding her younger sister in a warm hug. "You do know you were channeling Mom just then, right?"
"Yeah. Isn't that supposed to be your job?" Buffy gave Dawn a playful shove and went to bed.
----------
Early the next morning, a harsh, electronic wail blasted Buffy from a deep slumber. She glared at the clock radio set beside her bed, wishing she could smash it to pieces. However, while she did now receive a stipend from the Watcher's Council, it wasn't quite big enough for her to start destroying appliances wily-nilly on a whim.
Begrudgingly, she reached out with one arm and slapped the clock radio's off button. Sighing in contentment at the renewed silence, Buffy snuggled back under her covers and began to slide back into sleep.
At the exact moment that she lay on the boundary between sleep and awareness, her bedroom door flew open with a resounding crash. An obscenely loud and cheerful voice further destroyed Buffy's sense of contentment.
"Get out of bed, sleepyhead. We've got plenty of stuff to do today." At the sound of her sister's voice, Buffy was hard pressed to think of a time when she'd had to fight the temptation to throttle Dawn more than she was having to at this very minute.
Surrendering to the inevitable, Buffy dragged herself out of bed. By the time she gained her feet, Hurricane Dawn had thankfully flown on. Thank you, God. If I'd had to deal with any more cheerfulness this morning, I think I'd have exploded. Good thing we don't live on a hellmouth any more, or that might actually have happened.
Buffy perched on the edge of her bed, rubbing idly at her bleary eyes and scratching at her sleep tousled blond hair. As she struggled to restrain a massive yawn, a sudden scream tore the air. Buffy recognized that scream, it was Dawn. If it had been Andrew, she might not have been worried. Andrew still screamed like ... well, a little girl, if he even saw a cockroach. Dawn was made of sterner stuff. She'd had to be to deal with all the supernatural wackiness that inevitably ensued as a result of being part of Buffy's life.
Completely awake now, Buffy snatched the small handaxe she kept leaning against the wall beside her bed. Rolling across her bed in a single lithe movement, Buffy regained her feet and sprinted in the direction of her sister's scream, axe at the ready.
Leaping into the lounge room, Buffy fell into a combat stance, ready to go all pissed-off slayer on the ass of whatever hell spawn was trying to ruin her life this time. Instead, she found a still gleefully squealing Dawn squeezing the life out of a certain stunned looking redhead.
"Buffy! Willow's here!" Dawn shrieked happily as Buffy sagged, the adrenalin seeping out of her body.
"Dawn, you scared the stuffing out of me!" Buffy snapped, tossing the unneeded axe on the sofa. "Now, how about you let Will breathe before she turns blue."
Dawn reluctantly released Willow, turning to unleash a scowl at her sister. Buffy remained unperturbed, and stepped forward to give the redhead her own, more subdued, welcome hug.
"God it's good to see you, Willow. It's been way too long."
"It has, Buffy. It really has." Buffy detected a faint note of strain in the voice of the woman who had been her best friend since she's moved to Sunnydale all those years ago, and Willow's slender body almost seemed to vibrate with tension. Ignoring her sister, who was bouncing cheerfully around them, babbling inanely like a deranged energizer bunny, Buffy took Willow by the hand and led her to the couch. Willow sagged into the couch and immediately closed her eyes.
"Dawn, would you take Will's luggage into the guest room, please?"
"Umm, what about the nerd wonder?"
"Damn," muttered Buffy with a frown. "Fine, put her stuff in my room." Dawn fluttered off, alternating between happiness at Willow's arrival and annoyance at being relegated to a bellhop, and Buffy could finally turn her attention to her best friend. Willow looked tired and washed out, more so than simple jet lag could explain.
"What's wrong?" Buffy finally asked when she realized that Willow wasn't going to start on her own. The redhead's eyes fluttered open, but the good humor that was usually present in her brilliant green eyes was lacking.
"Why does something have to be wrong?" she asked faintly. "Maybe I just wanted to do the best friend thing in person for a change. We have kinda been on opposite sides of the planet lately."
Buffy shook her head emphatically. "Uh-uh. You have sorrow face, and I don't like my Willow looking sad."
Willow's only response was a melancholy little smile.
"It's not apocalypse-y in nature, is it? Because if it is, according to mother hen Dawn, it's someone else's responsibility for a change."
"No, it's just normal, everyday trouble," replied Willow, her smile broadening slightly.
Buffy crowed triumphantly. "Ah-hah! So there is trouble! I knew it!" She gave Willow a gentle poke in the shoulder. "And you thought you could hide it from me. So, come on, make with the spillage already."
Before Willow could even open her mouth to reply, Dawn's voice carried in from Buffy's bedroom.
"Hey Willow, is Kennedy here too? 'Cause then Buffy's gonna have to sleep on the couch so you two can snuggle."
Willow's face crumpled miserably, and Buffy suddenly knew with certainty what her best friend's problem was.
----------
"Maybe Giles could have her whacked?" Buffy suggested whimsically.
Willow turned her head to stare at her best friend in disbelief. The witch and the slayer were sprawled out on a pair of recliners on the patio of Buffy's apartment. Both young women were dressed in bikini's for some impromptu sunbathing, and a pitcher of margaritas sat on the low table between them.
"Whacked?" spluttered Willow. "How would Giles have someone whacked? What's with that term anyway? Why whacked? Why not ... oh I don't know, how about swatted?"
Buffy giggled and looked at the redhead fondly. "I never realized how much I missed Willow-babble till just now."
"What? They're all perfectly legitimate questions. And where did you pick up that term anyway?" Willow tilted her sunglasses down and fixed Buffy with an accusing eye. "Have you been watching the Soprano's again?"
"Seriously, I'm sure that Giles could probably find one of those old Council operations teams around. One phone call, and he could have a price on her head lickety-split."
"Buffy, stop joking around. Especially about ... that kind of thing."
"Hey, Will. I'm just doing the best friend thing. Like you said that time I met Riley's wife? It's the best friends job to hate the ex. It's, like a rule or something."
"That's sweet, Buffy," replied Willow with a small, sad smile. "But I don't hate Kennedy. I can't even blame her for what she did."
"Well I can. Best friend's prerogative," said Buffy with a fierce expression. "As for doing ... well, what she did, when she did it ... I still think it warrants at least a small ass-kicking from yours truly."
Willow's face fell a little bit, as it always did when Tara's death came up, and Buffy immediately felt guilty. She was supposed to be cheering her friend up, not depressing her further.
"I'll agree that her timing could have been better," Willow admitted reluctantly. "But I pushed her into doing it then, and the underlying problem was there long before either of us could bring ourselves to admit it."
The two young women sat there in awkward silence, neither one sure of how to continue. Finally, Buffy shrugged.
"I still think I should at least beat her up a bit."
Willow couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled up from within her, and Buffy grinned along with her. Reaching out, the blond took the redhead's hand in her own.
"Okay, so you crash here for a bit, decompress, maybe find some hot, young Italian honey for some rebound sex?" Willow's cheeks instantly blazed red, as if bonfires had been lit beneath them, but she didn't object.
"Then what?" Buffy asked, smiling mischievously at her friend's obvious discomfort.
"That's the big question, isn't it?" Willow replied with a sigh "What next. I know I don't really want to go back to Rio by myself. Too many memories. Maybe somewhere new? Or somewhere old, perhaps?"
"Don't worry Will," comforted Buffy, squeezing the redhead's hand as if trying to transmit all her love by simple, physical contact. "Whatever happens, I've got your back."
Buffy Summers was a slayer; not The Slayer anymore, not since Willow's major league mojo had all at once turned every potential slayer into a full slayer. If she allowed herself to actually stop and think about it, sometimes Buffy missed that, being the one and only. It had made her feel special, if only in an overly-violent, pretty much guaranteed short lifespan kind of way.
Of course, if you wanted to get picky, that hadn't really been the case since her first year in dear old unmourned Sunnydale. What with the whole dying thing, there had been Kendra, and then Faith. Still, even when they had been around, it was still mostly her, her responsibility, her calling, her ass on the line on a nightly basis.
Now, it didn't have to be. She'd been through so much, died twice, saved the world so many times that she was hard pressed to count them all. Everyone had agreed that she could relax, take the time to try and live a life that, if not normal, was at least more normal than the one she'd had up till now.
So here she was, in Rome, the Eternal City, living large with her sister Dawn, and for some reason she couldn't begin to fathom, Andrew. Still, with the chance for a normal life closer than ever, Buffy still found herself doing this. And enjoying it.
Buffy ducked the newborn vamp's wild punch with ease, unleashing a snap-kick into her opponents knee. He fell to his knees with a decidedly less than masculine whimper that wasn't doing much for his fledgling reputation as an undead fiend. Almost as an afterthought, Buffy slammed an elbow into the back of his head and the vampire went down, hard. A swift thrust of Mr. Pointy and the newbies career as one of the evil dead was over almost before it had begun.
"Ya know, it's almost disappointing when I run across a vampire that doesn't possess the martial arts skills you guys seem to mysteriously develop from out of nowhere." The second vampire, one older and more accomplished than his late, unlamented companion, kicked the slayer in the face, and she crashed backwards into a tombstone.
"Then something like this happens, and I remember that it's of the good when the bad guys suck at fighting."
The vampire charged at her, but this time Buffy was ready for him, using the vamp's own momentum to flip him through the air and face first into the ground. Seizing him by the scruff of his neck and the belt of his trousers, the slayer hoisted the vampire into the air, raising him above her head and slamming him down, back first into the same headstone she'd crashed into. Something important-sounding cracked loudly, and the vamp convulsed in pain. Buffy spared the bloodsucker any further concern about the state of his spine by staking him.
Even as the vampire dissolved into dust, Buffy turned to confront the final member of her impromptu workout session. The female vampire, who looked to be around the same age as Buffy herself, simply stood there, a terrified expression on her demonic visage.
"Where do you guys pick that stuff up, anyway? Late night classes at the Y? Or is there some kind of school for demons?" Buffy mock scowled at the frightened vampire's complete lack of response. She almost seemed to have frozen in terror. Buffy thought it might have been almost funny if it wasn't quite so pathetic.
"I surrender!" blurted the vampire out of nowhere, and Buffy blinked in astonishment.
"You surrender? You're not allowed to surrender!" Buffy replied with a scowl. "You're an evil, bloodsucking fiend!" The vampire shifted her feet awkwardly, her ridged brow creasing even more as she desperately tried to think of a way to save herself.
"I'm ... reformed!" she finally blurted. "You don't stake reformed vampires, right?"
"You're not reformed! Five seconds ago you were ready to eat me! That doesn't exactly scream reform!"
"I didn't know that you were a slayer then," objected the female vampire, certain that this stellar little piece of logic would derail the slayers' objections to her continued existence. Buffy just shook her head; this vampire was so stupid it was amazing that she'd survived her first night.
"Again, not much with the reforming. That's just plain, everyday cowardice." Buffy raised her stake and the vamp recoiled, flailing her arms back and forth in a vehement denial.
"If you stake me now, I'll never get the chance to reform," wailed the vampire pathetically.
Buffy enthusiastically jabbed a finger over the vamp's shoulder, a terribly cheesy grin on her lips. "Oooh! Look, a helpless, delicious co-ed!"
"Where?" Instinctually, the vamp turned, only to find an empty street. "Huh?" she muttered with a frown. Then she turned to ash as Buffy staked her from behind.
"Stupidest villain ever," Buffy quipped with a quiet snort of laughter.
----------
Later that night, Buffy cautiously sidled up to the door of the apartment that she shared with Dawn, and regretfully, Andrew. Why exactly she was still letting the little nerd crash at her place still escaped her. One of these days she was going to have to make sure he found his own place again, and if he burned this one down too... well let's just say hell would freeze over before she'd willingly live with Andrew again.
Moving with all of the stealth that she could muster, Buffy pulled her keys from the pocket of her fashionably stylish slacks, and gingerly inserted her door key. Turning the key excessively slowly, Buffy eased the door open and slipped into the darkness beyond. Just as carefully, she eased the door closed behind her. With any luck, I'm home free. A light flared behind her, and Buffy winced as a cold, angry voice ripped through the silence.
"Exactly just what time do you call this?"
Crap. Buffy's shoulders sagged in defeat and she turned to confront her nemesis. Dawn Summers sat primly on the couch in the center of their living room, legs and arms crossed, with an intensely annoyed expression on her young face. In Buffy's opinion, the whole interrogator vibe Dawn was projected was spoiled somewhat by her fluffy, pink pajamas that were liberally covered with little yellow duckies.
"Well?" demanded Dawn impatiently.
"Well, what?" replied the older Summers as insolently as she could manage.
"You were supposed to be home hours ago," snapped Dawn. "I was worried."
Buffy, channeling her inner, oh-so sullen teenager, shrugged and began intently studying the walls of their apartment. Dawn snorted in disgust, but kept up her intense examination of her elder sister. Buffy cracked first.
"Look, I just did a little patrol. No biggie. It's all of the good."
"Buffy," Dawn sighed in exasperation. "You don't have to patrol every night any more. There are other slayers around to keep the local undead population busy, you know."
"Yeah, but I'm still the best."
"God! Arrogant much!" Dawn jumped to her feet and stormed over to her sister. Grabbing Buffy's head with both hands, she forced her sister to confront her face to face. "It doesn't have to be you risking your life all the time anymore."
"Hey, some people are trying to sleep," whined a third voice suddenly. Buffy and Dawn turned simultaneously to regard Andrew standing in the doorway to the room where he slept. The sandy haired nerd visibly wilted beneath the force of both sisters' scowls, and he slunk back into his room, muttering irritably to himself. The sisters resumed their conversation as if there had been no interruption at all.
"I know that, it's just ..." Buffy's voice trailed off into silence.
"I do get it you know," Dawn answered softly. "I just lost you once already. I don't want to do it again any time soon."
"You won't," promised Buffy, enfolding her younger sister in a warm hug. "You do know you were channeling Mom just then, right?"
"Yeah. Isn't that supposed to be your job?" Buffy gave Dawn a playful shove and went to bed.
----------
Early the next morning, a harsh, electronic wail blasted Buffy from a deep slumber. She glared at the clock radio set beside her bed, wishing she could smash it to pieces. However, while she did now receive a stipend from the Watcher's Council, it wasn't quite big enough for her to start destroying appliances wily-nilly on a whim.
Begrudgingly, she reached out with one arm and slapped the clock radio's off button. Sighing in contentment at the renewed silence, Buffy snuggled back under her covers and began to slide back into sleep.
At the exact moment that she lay on the boundary between sleep and awareness, her bedroom door flew open with a resounding crash. An obscenely loud and cheerful voice further destroyed Buffy's sense of contentment.
"Get out of bed, sleepyhead. We've got plenty of stuff to do today." At the sound of her sister's voice, Buffy was hard pressed to think of a time when she'd had to fight the temptation to throttle Dawn more than she was having to at this very minute.
Surrendering to the inevitable, Buffy dragged herself out of bed. By the time she gained her feet, Hurricane Dawn had thankfully flown on. Thank you, God. If I'd had to deal with any more cheerfulness this morning, I think I'd have exploded. Good thing we don't live on a hellmouth any more, or that might actually have happened.
Buffy perched on the edge of her bed, rubbing idly at her bleary eyes and scratching at her sleep tousled blond hair. As she struggled to restrain a massive yawn, a sudden scream tore the air. Buffy recognized that scream, it was Dawn. If it had been Andrew, she might not have been worried. Andrew still screamed like ... well, a little girl, if he even saw a cockroach. Dawn was made of sterner stuff. She'd had to be to deal with all the supernatural wackiness that inevitably ensued as a result of being part of Buffy's life.
Completely awake now, Buffy snatched the small handaxe she kept leaning against the wall beside her bed. Rolling across her bed in a single lithe movement, Buffy regained her feet and sprinted in the direction of her sister's scream, axe at the ready.
Leaping into the lounge room, Buffy fell into a combat stance, ready to go all pissed-off slayer on the ass of whatever hell spawn was trying to ruin her life this time. Instead, she found a still gleefully squealing Dawn squeezing the life out of a certain stunned looking redhead.
"Buffy! Willow's here!" Dawn shrieked happily as Buffy sagged, the adrenalin seeping out of her body.
"Dawn, you scared the stuffing out of me!" Buffy snapped, tossing the unneeded axe on the sofa. "Now, how about you let Will breathe before she turns blue."
Dawn reluctantly released Willow, turning to unleash a scowl at her sister. Buffy remained unperturbed, and stepped forward to give the redhead her own, more subdued, welcome hug.
"God it's good to see you, Willow. It's been way too long."
"It has, Buffy. It really has." Buffy detected a faint note of strain in the voice of the woman who had been her best friend since she's moved to Sunnydale all those years ago, and Willow's slender body almost seemed to vibrate with tension. Ignoring her sister, who was bouncing cheerfully around them, babbling inanely like a deranged energizer bunny, Buffy took Willow by the hand and led her to the couch. Willow sagged into the couch and immediately closed her eyes.
"Dawn, would you take Will's luggage into the guest room, please?"
"Umm, what about the nerd wonder?"
"Damn," muttered Buffy with a frown. "Fine, put her stuff in my room." Dawn fluttered off, alternating between happiness at Willow's arrival and annoyance at being relegated to a bellhop, and Buffy could finally turn her attention to her best friend. Willow looked tired and washed out, more so than simple jet lag could explain.
"What's wrong?" Buffy finally asked when she realized that Willow wasn't going to start on her own. The redhead's eyes fluttered open, but the good humor that was usually present in her brilliant green eyes was lacking.
"Why does something have to be wrong?" she asked faintly. "Maybe I just wanted to do the best friend thing in person for a change. We have kinda been on opposite sides of the planet lately."
Buffy shook her head emphatically. "Uh-uh. You have sorrow face, and I don't like my Willow looking sad."
Willow's only response was a melancholy little smile.
"It's not apocalypse-y in nature, is it? Because if it is, according to mother hen Dawn, it's someone else's responsibility for a change."
"No, it's just normal, everyday trouble," replied Willow, her smile broadening slightly.
Buffy crowed triumphantly. "Ah-hah! So there is trouble! I knew it!" She gave Willow a gentle poke in the shoulder. "And you thought you could hide it from me. So, come on, make with the spillage already."
Before Willow could even open her mouth to reply, Dawn's voice carried in from Buffy's bedroom.
"Hey Willow, is Kennedy here too? 'Cause then Buffy's gonna have to sleep on the couch so you two can snuggle."
Willow's face crumpled miserably, and Buffy suddenly knew with certainty what her best friend's problem was.
----------
"Maybe Giles could have her whacked?" Buffy suggested whimsically.
Willow turned her head to stare at her best friend in disbelief. The witch and the slayer were sprawled out on a pair of recliners on the patio of Buffy's apartment. Both young women were dressed in bikini's for some impromptu sunbathing, and a pitcher of margaritas sat on the low table between them.
"Whacked?" spluttered Willow. "How would Giles have someone whacked? What's with that term anyway? Why whacked? Why not ... oh I don't know, how about swatted?"
Buffy giggled and looked at the redhead fondly. "I never realized how much I missed Willow-babble till just now."
"What? They're all perfectly legitimate questions. And where did you pick up that term anyway?" Willow tilted her sunglasses down and fixed Buffy with an accusing eye. "Have you been watching the Soprano's again?"
"Seriously, I'm sure that Giles could probably find one of those old Council operations teams around. One phone call, and he could have a price on her head lickety-split."
"Buffy, stop joking around. Especially about ... that kind of thing."
"Hey, Will. I'm just doing the best friend thing. Like you said that time I met Riley's wife? It's the best friends job to hate the ex. It's, like a rule or something."
"That's sweet, Buffy," replied Willow with a small, sad smile. "But I don't hate Kennedy. I can't even blame her for what she did."
"Well I can. Best friend's prerogative," said Buffy with a fierce expression. "As for doing ... well, what she did, when she did it ... I still think it warrants at least a small ass-kicking from yours truly."
Willow's face fell a little bit, as it always did when Tara's death came up, and Buffy immediately felt guilty. She was supposed to be cheering her friend up, not depressing her further.
"I'll agree that her timing could have been better," Willow admitted reluctantly. "But I pushed her into doing it then, and the underlying problem was there long before either of us could bring ourselves to admit it."
The two young women sat there in awkward silence, neither one sure of how to continue. Finally, Buffy shrugged.
"I still think I should at least beat her up a bit."
Willow couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled up from within her, and Buffy grinned along with her. Reaching out, the blond took the redhead's hand in her own.
"Okay, so you crash here for a bit, decompress, maybe find some hot, young Italian honey for some rebound sex?" Willow's cheeks instantly blazed red, as if bonfires had been lit beneath them, but she didn't object.
"Then what?" Buffy asked, smiling mischievously at her friend's obvious discomfort.
"That's the big question, isn't it?" Willow replied with a sigh "What next. I know I don't really want to go back to Rio by myself. Too many memories. Maybe somewhere new? Or somewhere old, perhaps?"
"Don't worry Will," comforted Buffy, squeezing the redhead's hand as if trying to transmit all her love by simple, physical contact. "Whatever happens, I've got your back."
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