DISCLAIMER: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the slayerettes belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The writing style for this story is a departure from my usual style. I will not be telling you whose POV is in each chapter, unless it is necessary because of format. I'm sure you're smart enough to figure that out by yourselves. A big thanks to my beta Dirk who somehow manages to deal with my insanity.
FORMAT: For Chapters One through Three the format is as follows: Italics is used for emphasis and /// are flashbacks.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To slaymaster415[at]gmail.com

She Comes To Me In The Middle Of The Night
By wiffyscoob


Chapter 1- Thesis

She comes to me in the middle of the night, but I don't mind.

I did, maybe, in the beginning, but not now.

Not now, because I love her.

It started right after the Moloch incident. Well, not really so much an incident as yet another failed attempt (in my mind anyways) at having someone notice me.

The way I had always wanted Xander to notice me.

I don't care about Xander anymore. I only care about her. Her with the toned, muscled body overlaid with the softest skin you could find. How she manages to keep it that way I can't be sure. I only know that when she comes to me and I touch her, her skin is like a rose petal, so smooth and soft.

When she wishes, her touch is incredibly soft and tender. When I first see her after the Hunt, though, the touch tends to be animalistic and hard. I feel her need to touch me everywhere and anywhere at once, as if she were drowning and I was her lifeline.

She takes me then, and claims me.

And I love it.

I love her. I always will.

There's just one problem.


"Hey Wills, so what's the what?"

"Oh, there is no what, that's what's what. Or…er…uh…what the what is…"

Buffy smiles. "It's okay. I get it, Wills." She looks at me for a moment, and I can tell she's reading me. Buffy knows I only babble when I'm nervous, or when I'm hiding something. I hope she doesn't call me on it.

So, I divert her. Hope it works.

"Are you seeing Angel tonight?"

Her mouth turns into a goofy smile. I don't really understand how she can reconcile the fact that she is a vampire slayer who kills vampires, and is dating a vampire. She's a killer of demons, but kisses one, and makes out with one instead.

Do I sound jealous? I think I used to be. Whether I was jealous of her or jealous of Angel, I can't be sure. I often thought how wonderful it would be to have a handsome guy agree to meet me in clandestine places; to secretly share whispered longings and passionate kisses.

Does that sound mushy? Perhaps. I was certainly, then. However much consciously I was jealous over their "relationship" (or whatever it is), subconsciously there was another jealousy I can admit to now.

It wasn't because Angel had Buffy, if that's what you're thinking. No. It was jealousy, because Angel had the Hunter.

Or so I thought.

It's Friday night.

The clock shows 12:30 a.m., and I'm feeling sleepy, but my body is also, as it always is at night, humming with anticipation.

For her.

I stand up and stretch my entire body, almost grinning at the thought that by 3 a.m. I will be completely relaxed, and fall asleep in her arms. I switch off the computer, staring at the bed and then down at my nightshirt and panties, wondering if I should even leave them on. They'll only just come off as soon as she is here.

Often, more than not, she will rip them from my body in her heat of Primal lust. That thought alone sends a bolt of lust through me, and I feel the dampness coating my panties.

Well that did it. Time to take them off before the juices flow even more. Might as well take off the shirt too.

I slide under my bedcovers, naked as a jaybird and turn off the desk lamp.

And I wait.

"Will, where were you Friday night? You never come to the Bronze anymore."

"I do too, Xander. Unlike some people," I glare pointedly at him, "I do my homework."

Xander looks at me like I have two heads.

"Will, we all know that two weeks into the semester you have the entire syllabus from each class done. What homework could you possibly have?"

I turn to grab my books from my locker, because Xander is aware, even more so than Buffy, when I'm lying.

And he can't know.

No one can know.

Certainly Buffy can't.

But, I think she's starting to.

And that scares me.

It's dark, and I know she will be here soon.

I can feel it.

Not long after this began, I began to sense her more and more. I can feel her as she comes to me, because Buffy isn't holding her back. It's too late because the Hunter is still out, and she's hunting me.

And I can't wait to be captured.

It's now spring break.

Buffy has questioned me in a roundabout way from time to time, asking how I slept the previous night because I look so tired. Or, why don't I patrol with her anymore, and insist on being home every night, foregoing our sleepovers at her house.

I don't want to lie, but she makes me. She's relentless. Buffy is just that way. She goes on and on about it all being best friend duty, but I brush it all aside, saying ridiculous things like, "Buffy, I just have really been all study gal for a while, that's all."

She frowns at me, not buying it. I don't think I would either, if I were in her shoes. So, I continue. Unfortunately, my answer turns into a rambling rant.

"It's a well documented fact that one can never start too early preparing for PSATs and SATs, or even MCATs . I haven't quite made up my mind yet, but medical school may be an option, so what about my residency? I need to be prepared…what if I want to become a neurologist…or...an ophthalmologist…or a podiatrist…okay, maybe not that, I don't think I can do the whole foot thing…coz ewwness-"

And then it happens.

I knew we were getting close. Before I am aware of what is happening she draws me to her, pressing my body firmly against hers, and kisses me long and deep and hard. I mold my own body to match hers, feeling my nipples harden so much they hurt. I return her kisses desperately, wanting nothing more than for her to devour me.

As abruptly as it comes, it stops.

She pulls back, releasing me, as I do the same. I see her eyes glowing, and a happy purr escapes her. Before I can say anything, she's sucked back in again. Buffy looks at me, shaking her head as if in a stupor, and asks:

"What did you say, Will? I lost you somewhere around you being study gal."

How can she be so oblivious?

Is it that possible?

How can Buffy not know when the Hunter springs forth? We've never really discussed it actually. I always assumed Buffy was still present, but watching as if from a distance; holding onto the strings loosely, ready to tighten them, and rein them in when the battle was done.

But maybe I'm wrong?

I thought about asking Giles but he might question me on why I would want to know. So sometimes I pretend to be research gal in the stacks, while I'm really researching where "Buffy the girl" goes during the battle.

I haven't found much so far, and I'm starting to wonder how much or how little the Council is aware of, or understands. As selfish as it sounds, I don't really care unless it involves taking her away from me.

But it's getting worse.

Xander has noticed it.

He sees the glow in Buffy's eyes as she looks at me. Xander hears an intermittent growl or purr, depending upon the circumstances. He gives me funny looks, and all I can do is shrug.

I'm afraid Xander will say something to Giles. And I can tell Giles has seen it, and he frowns at me. It's just a matter of time before he questions me.

Or he questions her.

Sometimes, I think I should just come clean to Giles. How I will do that, I can't be sure. Even the implied seems 'R' rated, and I'm afraid Giles will break a lens just listening about it.

But what else can I do?

The popped out lens sits on his desk next to his glasses and he clears his throat.

For about the hundredth time.

Finally, he speaks.

"Willow, I have no wish to judge, if that is what you are concerned with. I only want to make sure you are safe. But, I must impress upon you that she is a primal beast after all."

"She's more than that Giles!" I implore him to understand. "She understands me when I talk to her, she cares about me, she takes care of me, she loves me when no one else will…" I break off with a small sob but then continue on. "Yes, she can be rough sometimes after the hunt," Giles opens his mouth to speak but I hold up my hand to stop him. "She is also very gentle and loving. She understands me, and I understand her. Please don't take her away from me."

My eyes are watery and the restrained Englishman actually gives me a tentative hug. I think I startle him when I begin to cling to him and cry in his arms, while he awkwardly pats me on the back. Finally the sobs subside, and I raise my head to gaze at the Watcher with red-rimmed eyes.

"Oh, Giles, what should I do?"

He tells me that there are actually a few accounts of this happening before but it is not widely documented.

Why am I not surprised?

If there is any mention at all, it is often very slight. It is often just disregarded as myth or maybe a "side effect"; a small price to pay for the fight to continue. It is her Calling to protect this world and to save those whom I have now come to despise, because they will never know how much she gives and she will only die in anonymity.

Giles vows to do some research on it before confronting Buffy on the matter. He knows that I've been avoiding this like the plague. If Giles can't find anything, he tells me, Buffy will have to be told, especially in light of how close she is to the surface.

And especially because he fears Buffy is slowly losing her humanity.

My best friend may be losing her humanity and I realize I should be feeling some kind of guilt, but I just can't.

I am now secretly wishing for her to be present all the time, not just at night. That is so wrong and I know it. I just love her so much that it has become too much to bear, being without her for even a moment.

But what of Buffy, my best friend? Buffy the girl? I love Buffy, I do, but she can never love me like the Beast inside of her. Buffy the girl is still pining after boys, new shoes, a trip to the mall, and make-up. Buffy the girl is still too innocent for this, even with her little trysts with Angel. No matter how much she has seen, it's the Hunter who kills, not Buffy. It's the Hunter who springs forth to deal with the things that go bump in the night.

Angel is another story. I'm scared to be in his presence anymore. I go out of my way to avoid him, but researching about the latest big bad brings him into our midst. Thank God, Xander is 'Mr. Diversion' with his "I hate Angel because he's a vampire" to cover up for the "I hate Angel because Buffy loves him and not me".

They glower in distaste at each other, with Xander flinging verbal childish taunts Angel's way while Buffy plays referee. Angel has caught my eye a few times, and I quickly look away but I see the suspicions in his eyes.

And I know it is only a matter of time until he raps his cold knuckles on my bedroom French doors.

"I don't know what else to tell you, Willow."

I watch his sympathetic face through my tears and realize that Giles is right.

We have to tell Buffy.

Buffy's been in Giles' office for over an hour now.

There's been no yelling, so I guess that's good. I can hear unintelligible murmurs but other than that, nothing.

I toyed with the idea of being in there when Giles talked to Buffy and then immediately dismissed it. I didn't think I could take it, not to mention the Hunter. If I came in the Hunter would surface, and Giles needed to talk to Buffy, not the Hunter.

As I wait, sweating and fiddling with the straps of my backpack, I flash back to that first night she came to me.

/// It's 1:30 a.m. and I can't sleep.

I always worry about Buffy on patrols, but she usually calls me to let me know she is safe, no matter what the time.

I toss and turn, finally settling on my left side. Of course all my eyes do is stare at the phone highlighted by the red numbers flashing on my alarm clock. I don't know what it is, but I feel the need to turn over on my back.

That's when I see her.

I squeak in surprise, unsure how she had entered without me even hearing her. She stands by the open French doors, the moonlight highlighting her beautiful form. I slowly sit up in my bed. She is so still; watching me, like her prey.

I've been with Buffy enough on patrol to realize that this is the Slayer I am seeing. I am unsure what to say. I'm not scared, which strikes me as odd, since she came into my room without a sound. Why is the Beast here? What happened to my best friend?

I swallow nervously as she quietly closes the French doors, and slowly makes her way toward me. As she gets closer, I see a flash of her golden eyes. I scrunch up my hands on my bedclothes. I think I'm hyperventilating.

My brain is officially frozen. I can't even babble. She tears the sheet from my grip, grunting as she does so. Before I know what is happening, she is on the bed, ripping off my nightshirt. It lies shredded on the floor. Before I can process this information, she roughly grabs me, and lifts me up, tearing my underwear.

My hands reach around to grip her leather jacket, and I bury my face in her neck, inhaling the leftover scent from the hunt. I don't know what's happening, but I'm shocked to feel a rush of desire spread through me. She grunts in my ear, and bites my neck.


Oh God.

My desire feels out of control, and, when she touches me, I gasp. Her fingers enter me where only mine have been before. I flush in embarrassment but she seems not to notice as I hear a continual growl in my ear.

She uses her thumb to circle my clit. Her actions are rough, but she doesn't penetrate enough to steal my virginity. She's stimulates me, somehow knowing all the right places to give me the most pleasure.

I am so wet; it feels like a flood between my thighs. My breathing becomes ragged as she sucks my breast; licking with occasional bites. In the midst of the sensations she is causing me a stray thought forms that I will be black and blue tomorrow, with the startlingly realization that I don't care.

Lost in a sea of sensations, I am now beyond capable thought. Before I know what's happening, I reach my peak, and cry out her name.

"Slayer!" ///

Buffy rushes out of Giles' office, not even looking at me, like the hounds of hell were on her heels.

Giles, glasses in hand, rubs his palm across the back of his neck. When he raises his head to look at me, I see the helplessness in his face and the truth in his eyes.

I have lost my best friend. I should feel shame or remorse, but I am only concerned with one thing.

Losing my Slayer.

Part 2

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