Not an Addict

by

sHaYcH

Disclaimer:  The drill, you know it - Joss, Joss, Joss, it's all Joss.  Me?  The sandbox, I'm playing in it. 

Sometimes, in the closing darkness of predawn, Kennedy wakes to the sound of Willow’s tears.  They aren’t loud, but the steady slide and drip of liquid across flesh somehow cuts through the most pleasant of dreams, reducing the young slayer to a silent, angry mass of awake.

She thinks she could handle it if only Willow would actually say Her name, but even after all this time, the witch can only grieve in silence.

If I were Her, I could comfort you, but I’m not.  I’m only me, and it’s not enough.  She thinks she should leave.  She plans to get up and move into one of the dorms, but there’s no way to do that without admitting that she lost.

How can I battle a demon that isn’t real?

Willow shifts, and surreptitiously, she wipes her face on the pillow, then opens her eyes.  In the rising light of the morning, she rolls toward Kennedy, slips her arm around the slayer and whispers, “G’mornin’ babe.  C’n I have a kiss?”

Kennedy’s plans of escape vanish even as Willow’s lips meet hers.

fin