Archive of Our Own

"Booored now."

Willow sighed heavily, absently dragging her fingers across the trunk of a tree as she walked across the university grounds. This was no fun.

The puppy had escaped last night, and the Master was cranky. No more Bronze, no more drinks at the factory until he got caught. Or staked. Willow didn't care which right now. It wasn't fair, getting sent to the whole other side of Sunnydale, stuck looking in every dark hole in the campus, just cause she was smaller and could sneak better.

"Wasn't my fault," she pouted, toying with a branch. "I didn't lose him."

The branch didn't answer, so she ripped it off.

When the last of it was crushed into dust and the cracks stopped echoing off the buildings, she realised that if the puppy was around, he'd have heard that. Now things were gonna take even longer.

Willow crushed a stray twig under her boot. "Don't feel better neither."

She wanted to be home, or at least somewhere where there was someone to drink, but no bleeders were dumb enough to stay out at night anymore, and the Master might get mad at her, so she kept going.

Almost no bleeders.

The girl was lying under a tree. At first Willow thought it was the puppy, all worn out from escaping and playtimes, but when she snuck up closer, noooo, definitely a girl. Alive, too.

She was sleeping, curled up all cute-like with a bag of schoolbooks for a pillow and half an essay sketched out in a notebook. Willow tilted her head up at the moon, peeking through the branches; the girl must have fallen asleep in the daytime. Probably liked having the sunlight on her pretty pink face.

Willow grinned. That wouldn't be happening again.

She sauntered over, quietly (couldn't have any screaming tonight, after all. Too bad), and sat on her knees behind the girl, leaning over and breathing in the smell of warm blood. The tips of her hair brushed the girl's face, and she moved in her sleep and made a small noise, like "Mw."

"Aww, are you having a bad dream?" Willow crooned, trailing her fingers lightly down the girl's neck. "It's gonna get much, much worse."

The girl shifted, murmured something, but her eyes stayed closed. Willow leaned over again, clamped her hand over the girl's mouth and swung a leg over to straddle her, pinning both hands and landing a knee in the unfinished essay. Under her, the girl's body went tense, and her heartbeat started racing. "Wakey wakey," chirped Willow.

The girl's eyes went wide and she thrashed, but Willow was barely rocked, and sharply tapped the girl's nose with her free hand. "None of that," she scolded. "You be still now and maybe this won't hurt so much."

It would, of course, a lot, but the girl stopped fighting, though her chest was still heaving under Willow's elbows. Willow grinned. "Good kitty."

She leaned down to smell the girl's neck, hear the blood thumping. Her mouth watered and she let her fangs out, and licked a long slow stripe along the artery. It tasted so good...

Under her hand, the girl's lips were moving, and she whimpered.

"Shhhhhh," said Willow, stroking her hair. "You have to be quiet." She sat back and looked the girl in the eye. "You get that, right? Is kitty smart?"

The girl didn't nod or shake her head, but her wide eyes fixed on Willow's, transfixed, and tears were spilling down her face. The salty smell was getting in the way of the blood; Willow scowled. "Don't cry!"

But the girl just kept going, sobbing and snottering and so human. Bad kitty. She was going to ruin everything.

Irritated, Willow swooped down and bit. Warm, sweet blood flowed into her mouth and she groaned, and used both hands to lift the girl's head for a better angle, leaving her mouth free. "Please, please..." the girl whispered, but it was nothing Willow hadn't heard before, easy to ignore. The blood was too good, and she sucked, gorging herself as fast as she could while the kitty pawed at her, light little pats that tickled down her front, making it even better. Willow wriggled, sliding one hand down the girl's chest, listening to the thudding heartbeat slowly fade away.

The girl had stopped struggling now, almost stopped breathing, and Willow sighed contentedly, all warm and sloshy inside. She sat up and smiled, licking her lips. "Mmmmmmmm, good kitty," she said, and laughed. "Was it as good for you as it was for me?"

The girl's skin was grey in the moonlight, and she stared up at Willow, eyes still wide, pleas on her lips, like anything could save her now. They always did that. "You're no fun anymore," she pouted.

"Please," the girl whispered . "I'm already a demon..."

Willow tilted her head, curious. Under her, the girl wilted, and went still.

When she rose, Willow smiled.

"Pretty kitty," she said, tracing a finger down her girl's new face. "You feel better now?"

Her girl sat up slowly, calm and graceful, peering at Willow. Then she flicked her head back, shaking off her new face for her old one. She looked better now, all white instead of blotchy pink, and her pretty gold hair was out, hanging down in straight lines over the corners of her eyes.

A slow, smouldering smile crept along those pretty lips. "You set me free."

Huh. "Free?"

In one move the girl swung her legs off the edge of the table and stood, elegant as a cat. Willow was pleased. "From all that fear," the girl spat, disgusted. "The old me was scared of everything. But now," she said, smirking, "nothing scares me."

She stroked one finger down Willow's nose, over her lips and chin, in a line down her chest. Willow stepped closer and grinned. "Hmm. I guess not."

"Why?" she asked lightly, tracing patterns on Willow's collarbones: star patterns, symbols. They probably had meaning. "Why me?"

Willow shrugged, as if it was nothing. "You seemed different than them," she said, and leaned in to smell her girl's hair. "Mmm..."

The girl stepped forward, one foot behind Willow's and pivoting to back her against the wall, and Willow let her. She braced her hands on either side of Willow's head, looking her straight in the eye, still puzzled. "I'm nothing special."

Willow locked eyes with her, playfulness forgotten for a minute for more sincerity than she usually spared in a year. Truth was, she didn't know; she'd meant to drink her fill and leave, but whatever stopped her, it was getting stronger. "No," she said firmly, "you are."

The girl's face split into a grin, wicked and feral, and Willow swooped in and kissed it, dragging her fingers through that pretty hair. She locked her ankle around her girl's and twisted, knocking her to the ground and landing on top. She licked a long stripe from chest to ear, and grinned as her girl groaned under her, sliding her hands down Willow's back and to her legs – almost. She pulled Willow's hips into hers.

"Hands," Willow tutted playfully, tapping her nose. "I don't even know your name, kitty. What ever will people say?"

Her girl laughed, a pretty, deep-throated chuckle. Willow kissed it off her lips. "What's your name, kitty?"

"Tara," she said. "I'm Tara."

"Hands, Tara."