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actuallylorelaigilmore · 3 years ago

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one girl in all the world: chapter 1

Willow x Angel, BTVS. Also on AO3. Prologue here. Bonus graphic here.

A reimagining of Buffy the Vampire Slayer from the very beginning, in which Angel was sent to Sunnydale to help the wrong girl, and fell in love with the right girl anyway. Very belatedly for @actuallylukedanes in honor of their birthday. 💗

“Sorry I mistook you for my mom,” Willow added as an afterthought. “It wasn’t because you’re…like my mom. I was just confused.”

He grinned. “I figured.”

“My mom and I aren’t all that close,” she babbled before she could stop herself. “But when I was little, she was the one who would come in and hug me really tight when I woke up from a nightmare, and it always felt…safe.”

Willow shook her head. “I know how that probably sounds. Like I said, with the gas and everything, I got confused. But when I woke up, I knew I was safe, somehow."

She looked over at the table where Buffy was laughing at something Xander said. “I don’t know why you’re helping Buffy–why you’re helping us, even, because of Buffy. But without you, we’d probably all be dead by now.”

Some things were simply facts; elements of reality that Willow accepted the way she accepted gravity and oxygen. She didn’t have to enjoy them to live with them–but like basic physics, she knew there was no point in trying to fight them, either.

That was her life before the day that Buffy Summers came to town and changed everything: good friends in Xander and Jesse, good GPA in high school…and a place at the very bottom of the social hierarchy.

She had her theories about why Cordelia felt the need to pick on her so much. Basic psychology– in her head, that sounded a lot like her mother giving a lecture –would blame deep-rooted insecurity that the Queen Bee covered up by constantly putting everyone else down. And as someone who kept to herself, Willow was an easy target.

She knew she was smarter than the popular girls, and probably better adjusted. She didn’t feel the need to bully people, or try to be somebody she wasn’t. She was happy enough in her life. So Willow tried not to let it get to her.

But shrugging it off didn’t change the reality of being a teenager at Sunnydale High, one who had stumbled onto Cordelia Chase’s hate list long ago, and lived there now. Nothing changed that, any more than she could decide to resist gravity.

It made Buffy’s arrival a truly unprecedented event. She not only brought fresh life to their little town, breaking Willow’s understanding of what reality even meant; she also chose Willow and Xander to be her friends, in open defiance of the way things were supposed to be.

Suddenly, life was different. Willow had more to worry about than people staring at her in her nightmares. She had to reconsider every scary story and fairy tale she’d read, every monster movie she’d seen. And she had to decide what it meant, to live in a world that was more dangerous than she’d known.

But at the top of the list of what had changed, there was also just Buffy. Her first friend who was a girl, who she could talk to about crushes and parents in a way that Xander would never understand. Willow was maturing, as her parents liked to say with coded glances and distant tones. It was a lonely place to be sometimes.

Living in the after of Buffy’s arrival, it was a little less lonely. Willow figured that was a decent trade for the upgrade in her nightmares.

Especially since, if she had never learned that Sunnydale had extra layers to its reality, a different kind of physics, those things would still be real. She’d just be blind to them. Less safe from the monsters.

Willow might not be able to do much to fight the evil of mean girls in her everyday life, but Buffy had shown her that some dangers could be defeated. She planned to make use of that lesson.

****

Willow couldn’t have explained to anyone why she felt drawn to the books on magick that she found in the library. At first, she wondered what they were even doing there, old intimidating volumes in a high school library. And then when she started reading them, she found them really interesting.

It didn’t seem unusual to her, or like something she should worry about. She found a lot of things interesting. She enjoyed learning.

But she was still grateful that no one caught her slip when she was teasing Xander about them. Nobody asked how she knew the books had semi-nude engravings, how she knew anything about them at all. The group was too busy, or distracted.

And of course, she was lucky her name wasn’t listed right above Xander’s. She hadn’t felt the need to be sneaky, exactly…but she had a habit of browsing in the library in her free time. She’d never considered checking out the magick books and taking them home, because she hadn’t been studying them any more seriously than the books about French history she read, or photography.

But before she was knocked unconscious, it occurred to Willow how silly she felt, tossing questions at Amy’s mom to get her attention. She didn’t know much about the woman’s black arts, not nearly enough to successfully distract her. She did have questions, though--less silly ones, unrelated to broomsticks or black cats.

Willow wanted to know what it was like when people used witchcraft for good. What did that kind of magick look like? And could it protect them from people like Catherine? Or worse?

There was no harm in doing some more research, she decided. Research only helped. Giles had lots of books she hadn’t even opened yet. And living on a Hellmouth, clearly they needed as much help as they could get.

****

There was something about him, Willow thought, the first time she saw Angel in the Bronze. He wasn’t funny like Xander, didn’t carry that warm familiarity that made Xander feel like home.

Even from across the room she could tell that Angel was nothing like that; even if Buffy had never described him to her she would have known he was the enigmatic guy who had caught her friend’s attention.

There was a coolness about him, a stillness. A calm. As if the world moved around him and he stayed a little bit apart from it.

It reminded her of that thing people said, about having an old soul. He looked so serious, even more than the age difference would explain.

Buffy had talked about how cryptic she found him, how impossible he was to pin down, but that made sense once Willow could actually see him: he was right there among the rest of the crowd and still, somehow, he didn’t fit.

So she knew Angel was Buffy’s new crush the moment she saw him. She also knew he was even cuter than Buffy had said, like some romantic hero from literature brought to modern life. To Willow’s life, to her sleepy little town that used to be so boring.

Vampires and all, she wouldn’t want to go back to the way things used to be. But Willow couldn’t separate the two things–Buffy was why she knew about the vampires. And Buffy was the only reason she knew Angel.

So it didn’t matter if she found Angel cute, in a brooding sort of way. Her friend was into him. That was all that mattered.

****

Willow could tell that Giles wasn’t used to his supernatural knowledge, his ties to the Slayer, being known to outsiders. When she asked him where the term Watcher came from, since he behaved more like a coach or a guide, he sputtered.

It happened when she asked him other questions too, about witchcraft or the origins of evil or why Sunnydale sat on a Hellmouth but the next town over didn’t.

He was much less hesitant when they were facing a battle–when it was Buffy he was delivering information to, or they were all working together to fight her battles. That led Willow to guess that it was about Buffy’s unconventional allies. He clearly wasn’t prepared for this…for them. For a Slayer who simply wanted to be a girl.

But since Willow wasn’t prepared for nightmares to come true and for monster-fighting to become her new extracurricular activity, she didn’t feel too badly for him. She just wondered why he was called a Watcher if that was not really what he did.

She could argue, Willow thought, that she was much more of a watcher than Giles. In the truest sense.

She’d always lived her life on the outside, observing, taking things in. As great as it was to have Xander in her life, that didn’t give her a warm and involved family. It didn’t make her part of the social scene in Sunnydale, one of the popular girls. She was still invisible in a lot of ways.

And being invisible wasn’t always bad. She would rather be ignored by jerks like Cordelia than picked on. It gave her a different perspective–the freedom to see more and understand more than she could if she were noticed.

Like the way Angel and Buffy circled each other; she watched that and saw what was coming. Maybe even before they did. Definitely despite Buffy’s words to the contrary.

Her friend was head over heels and she barely knew the guy. Angel was much harder to read, but he never seemed to be anywhere except where the Slayer was.

Willow thought it was romantic, swoony like a classic film you’d see in black and white. She worried a little bit too–but she couldn’t tell anyone about that part because she couldn’t explain it. All she wanted was for Buffy to be happy, and if Angel was the guy, who was she to argue with that?

Who was she to be judging anybody’s relationships, Willow added to her self-directed scolding. The only person she’d ever wanted to date was Xander and even he was mooning over Buffy now.

Instead, she kept watching. She kept her worries to herself. And by the time things started to get complicated, it was too late for her to do anything about it.

****

When Willow and Xander arrived to interrupt Buffy’s date with Owen–which was already being interrupted by Angel–they were in too much of a hurry for introductions. And Buffy didn’t bother, probably because she was trying to get them to go away and leave her and Owen alone.

Which meant that technically, Willow and Angel were never really introduced. After that night, they would acknowledge each other in a work-acquaintance sort of way whenever the chaos of the Hellmouth brought Angel to them…but Willow found it kind of funny that they’d skipped past ever saying hello.

She assumed it just hadn’t occurred to Buffy, given who Angel was. He was this dashing, mysterious figure in the Slayer’s new life–almost like some kind of superhero–who appeared whenever he might be needed, then faded into the shadows. As if he only existed because of Buffy.

So of course she didn’t think to introduce them all. It wasn’t like Angel was a part of the group.

Willow didn’t know him well enough to know if Angel minded that, but she had to wonder if the distance came from him or from Buffy’s efforts to have a normal life. Owen was a prime example of that: cute boy, their age, not a mystery to be solved.

It was clear that Angel wasn’t thrilled to see Buffy dating, but that didn’t change the way he hovered and held back. He didn’t make small talk, he didn’t try to bond with Buffy’s people. He didn’t do the things a person was supposed to do when they liked somebody.

Angel left Willow wondering. Because she might not understand Buffy’s mystery guy, but she knew one thing for certain: staying on the outside, being so disconnected…it had to be terribly lonely. Why would anybody choose that if they didn’t have to?

****

It shouldn’t have taken hyena possession, Willow thought, but she knew now that she had to let go of her crush on Xander.

Not having her feelings returned she could live with. She didn’t need Xander to be in love with her.

And even the bullying, the way he behaved as part of a cruel pack, she could forgive. She knew who Xander was, how his father treated him and what he tried to rise above. The potential for mean was there, and the possession tapped into it.

But what he did to Buffy…what he tried to do…Willow felt guilty about that. Because part of her was relieved it hadn’t happened to her, which was too much like being glad it happened to Buffy. And she wasn’t! She was horrified.

She would have sworn to anybody who asked, before the hyena possession, that Xander would never do anything like that. That he wasn’t even capable of it. Under any circumstances.

Knowing what was lurking inside him, somewhere deep down–what had to be inside him to make that possible–changed how Willow saw her oldest friend. And it made her a little scared of what he could’ve been like if she was the object of his obsession, rather than Buffy.

Spending this year together as a new friend group, Willow had been quietly jealous of Buffy. A little bit.

Buffy was strong and could defeat the evil that lurked in their little town. She was pretty and knew how to flirt and get boys’ attention. She had not only Angel but also Xander pining after her, while Willow was off to the side, watching it all happen.

She’d longed for Xander to see her the way he saw Buffy, to want her even a fraction of how much she wanted him.

And now, Willow had seen where that kind of longing could lead. She never wanted Xander to think of her that way, after all.

She wished she had the ability to go back in time and keep Buffy safe from his attention, too.

****

After the truth came out, Willow wasn’t sure what to make of Buffy’s crush on a vampire. Of course, if anyone could handle herself in that kind of situation, it would be Willow’s new Slayer BFF. She’d never met anyone like Buffy–not that she’d met many people so far.

But, still. Willow remembered the boy she’d tried flirting with at the Bronze, who turned out not to be a boy at all but a vampire who wanted to sacrifice her to the Master. She’d been so pleased with herself, so caught up in how well her efforts had worked out, she hadn’t been even a little bit aware of the threat.

The irony that she was following Buffy’s advice that night had not been lost on Willow, but she also knew–even more after she almost got eaten–that she and Buffy were very different people, when it came to boys and dating.

For example, Buffy had definitely dated boys already. Whereas Willow had not. Other than her childhood relationship with Xander, anyway, and she knew that didn’t really count.

But knowing that Buffy probably had a lot of dating experience didn’t make it any less strange to see her mooning over a vampire. A dark and dreamy vampire who didn’t seem like he wanted to eat Buffy, Willow reminded herself. Angel was different.

She hoped that Angel was different. For Buffy’s sake.

Because if the Slayer fell for a vampire, and he just wanted to eat her, that would make her, like, the worst Slayer ever, wouldn’t it? And Willow believed in Buffy. She had skills. She was a badass. She could flirt and cheerlead and kill monsters, without missing a beat.

Since surviving her near-death and her very first rescue from Buffy, though, Willow couldn’t help wondering how Buffy–who had fought and killed so many vampires, who had seen so many vampires attack and kill other people–could still be interested in Angel. Knowing what he was, didn’t that change things?

Willow had always been a curious person. It made school easy for her. And when she found a new interest, like computers, she could master it quickly.

While Buffy wrestled with her feelings, Willow wondered what made Angel different…unique among demons, but also something more than that. Appealing. Almost human.

What did it mean, that Angel’s existence broke the supernatural rules Willow was still getting used to?

She couldn’t discuss her thoughts with Xander; he was too jealous of Angel to be helpful. She wouldn’t pose her questions to Giles, who seemed uncomfortable around Angel even before he discovered the history. And she definitely wasn’t going to ask Buffy anything she selfishly wanted to know.

Luckily, Willow always had the option of trying to learn more on her own. She could try to satisfy her curiosity towards the vampire that her best friend was falling for–even if her curiosity had to stay a secret.

****

While he sought to avoid Buffy, Angel admitted to Giles that being around Buffy was too hard for him. The Watcher misunderstood his fear of losing control for a kind of romance.

“A vampire in love with a Slayer,” Giles commented, continuing on for a moment, before switching subjects. Angel didn’t respond to the commentary on his feelings, largely because he didn’t know what to say.

Is that what this is? He wondered. This feeling of being pulled despite reason, toward someone you should know better than to want?

He was soulless during his life with Darla, so he couldn’t say he had loved her. He had tried to make her happy even after regaining his soul, but Angel blamed that on not knowing much else after more than a hundred years together. He'd wanted their old life back, to escape the pain.

And before Darla, he was soulless in another way–he bedded many women, but certainly never loved them.

So maybe that explained why being around Buffy was so hard. He didn’t know how to handle being in love, because he wasn’t used to it.

But at the same time, Angel couldn’t say for sure that his feelings for Buffy were the same as what she felt for him…what her Watcher assumed he was feeling.

How would he know the difference?

Really, after spending so long living for his passions–selfish, cruel, and solitary in turn–what did he know about love at all?

****

There was something about her, Angel thought, after he half-dragged, half-carried Willow out of the gas-filled room. He knew Giles had grabbed Xander and was right behind them, but to be honest it hadn’t occurred to him to worry about Xander’s safety–he’d gone straight for Willow, whose lack of consciousness he sensed before he even entered the room.

She smelled sweet, like fruit, not as though she were wearing perfume but simply as a result of being human. A young woman, he reminded himself. Practically still a girl. Innocent.

Buffy was the same age, but already draped in the weight of her duty, her fate. And at the same time, there was a lightness to her that came of confidence–it was not a surprise to him that she’d led a life of cheerleading and dances at her old school.

Willow, though, she made herself small. He didn’t like thinking that part of the attraction there was a predator scenting prey, his natural instinct to seek out weakness, vulnerability. Especially since it had become clear to him quickly that Willow was anything but weak.

But the vulnerability that radiated out of her…it tugged at him. It reminded him of things he’d rather forget.

When Willow woke up from the gas fumes, she stayed pressed against him, leaving only when Xander did, and even then her hand lingered on his arm as she pulled away.

Angel could feel her heart, the way it was racing, but he couldn’t know if that was in response to him or the constant life-threatening events she was encountering in Sunnydale.

He wondered, though. A bit.

****

She’d expected Angel to be…well, cold, Willow thought, after he saved her in the high school. Vampires were dead, after all. Shouldn’t that mean they were lifeless, no blood flowing…chilly to the touch?

He wasn’t, though. He wasn’t warm, the way a living person would be, she knew now–but he wasn’t a corpse either. He was sort of room temperature.

She wondered if that had something to do with the blood he drank. Did he warm it up, and did that warm him? The science nerd in her had so many questions.

Questions he would probably find rude, she guessed. Not that she would have an opportunity to ask them. She and Angel didn’t exactly hang out. He just sort of appeared, and then vanished again whenever he was done helping them or seeing Buffy.

That made it nearly impossible for her to do what she needed to, but after several days of watching and waiting, Willow spotted Angel at the Bronze after school while Buffy and Xander were chatting next to her.

“Bathroom,” Willow said, a little too brightly. She left before either of them could ask any follow up questions–she didn’t expect them to notice her absence, but she knew it was more likely if they thought she was acting weird.

Willow was careful not to look at him as she skirted the edges of the dance floor, making her way to where Angel was standing in the shadow of a staircase. She had a hunch that if he knew she was coming to find him, he might leave before she managed it.

“Hi,” Willow said when she reached him.

Her smile was soft, like the rest of her, Angel thought. There was a seriousness to Willow that he appreciated, but it was her open sincerity that made him feel unusually protective.

It surprised him that Buffy–who was so vibrant, even prickly sometimes–had grown close to this wide-eyed girl despite their differences.

“Hello.” Angel shifted where he stood, and Willow wondered if his discomfort came from being spoken to in general, or if he was concerned that Buffy might notice them together.

“She thinks I’m in the bathroom,” she offered helpfully.

“Oh. Okay.”

“I needed to talk to you, and I didn’t know how to find you,” Willow explained. “So I’m glad you’re here. I…wouldn’t know where to look.”

“I wouldn’t want to be looked for,” Angel replied. The lines in his forehead made him the picture of a worrier. Willow wondered if he was; they would have that in common.

“Well. I wanted to say thank you.”

His brow stayed furrowed, and he stayed silent. Willow frowned. “For saving my life, in the high school? With Giles and Xander?”

“Right.” He continued to watch her, his gaze flicking back to Buffy for a second before refocusing.

“It was, um, really scary, and we wouldn’t have made it out of there, if you hadn’t found us. I don’t think. So thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it.” His words should have been casual, but he said everything with such a grave tone. Could vampires have depression? She wondered. Because if any of them were a candidate for that, Angel should be at the top of the list. He always seemed so somber.

Maybe that was just what happened when you lived for hundreds of years.

“What?” He asked her, and Willow realized she had been staring at him without speaking, the whole time she’d thought those things. She blushed and looked down at her shoes.

It could be worse, she reminded herself. She could have been thinking aloud.

“It’s the centuries,” Angel said, and she looked up, meeting his eyes.

Maybe she had been thinking aloud, she realized. Shoot.

“Makes me forget how to act around people,” Angel explained, and Willow relaxed. He hadn’t been reading her mind. He was apologizing.

“Oh, you’re okay,” she assured him. “You’re-you’re very person-seeming.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “Thanks.”

“Well, I should probably get back,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Before anyone notices.”

“Sure.” There was amusement in his eyes now, she noticed, though you wouldn’t know it from the rest of his face.

“Sorry I mistook you for my mom,” Willow added as an afterthought. “It wasn’t because you’re…like my mom. I was just confused.”

He grinned. “I figured.”

Willow shook her head. “I know how that probably sounds. Like I said, with the gas and everything, I got confused. But when I woke up, I knew I was safe, somehow."

Willow looked back at him with no hint of a smile. Not even her usual sweetness. There was a strength instead, that he was surprised to see shine from underneath her words.

“Everything that’s happened since I met Buffy, the really scary stuff and the really nice stuff, I wouldn’t give it up to be safe and in the dark again. I’d rather know about the monsters. But if high school has taught me anything, it’s that sometimes the worst monsters are the ones who seem safe.”

She frowned again, looking up at him. “You feel safe. I trust that. But I’m not sure I should.”

Angel nodded. “I’m not sure you should either. But that’s good to know.”

She nodded back and turned away, disappearing into the crowded dance floor.

Angel watched until she reappeared at the table where Buffy was waiting, now alone. He followed Buffy’s pointing finger to where Xander was dancing by himself.

He didn’t know what either of them saw in that one; he suspected Xander was the most likely among them to end up dead before graduation. But he could see the fondness in Buffy’s smile from where he stood, and Willow watched the boy’s movements like a flower staring at the sun.

Angel couldn't decide what to make of Willow’s rambling speech, or her gratitude. He certainly didn’t deserve anyone’s thanks. Or their trust–most definitely not their trust.

Well, she was young, he reminded himself. Even before he was turned, he was much more worldly at Willow’s age. Spoiled, and an awful person, but experienced.

Thinking about who he used to be put him in a terrible mood. Scowling, Angel left the Bronze, letting the dark night envelope him and make him a shadow among shadows. He wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking, lurking in the Bronze, anyway.

****

Angel entered the Bronze the week after Prom, in what was becoming a habit. Willow saw him more often now around the edges of the club, not even meeting Buffy–just watching. She couldn’t tell if it was meant to be protective or romantic. Or if those were the same thing.

That night, though, he came to where Willow was sitting. She was alone, holding the table until Buffy and Xander took a break from the dance floor. Which would hopefully be soon, she thought, watching them laugh from a distance. She was thirsty and they’d promised to grab her a soda.

“Hey, Angel.” She smiled at him, then went back to watching her friends.

“Hey.”

He seemed relaxed, but it was unusual for him to join her without Buffy around. “Is there danger? Should we go get Buffy?”

“No. I mean, not that I know of.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She listened to the music for another minute, then turned to him. “They should be back soon.”

“I’m not in a hurry.”

“I guess you wouldn’t be, huh? Being immortal and all.”

“That, and I’m here to ask Buffy about her plans. Not exactly time-sensitive.”

“Like for a date!” Willow nodded encouragingly. Buffy had seemed a little off ever since she…well, died. It would be nice if she and Angel went back to normal–or as close to normal as possible for the Slayer and her vampire boyfriend.

“Actually, for patrolling. I want to get an idea of which cemeteries she’ll be slaying in, make sure I’m close by.”

“Oh.” That wouldn’t help Buffy’s mood at all, Willow thought. Didn’t guys understand that girls wanted to be wanted for more than their saving-the-world skills? Buffy in particular was wishing for non-Slayer fun lately.

Like dancing with Xander, who seemed to have bounced back from Buffy’s rejection sooner than Willow would’ve expected. Being the one who saved her life had probably helped, she decided as the music sped up and her friends stayed on the dance floor.

“I guess they might be a little longer,” she told Angel. “You could sit.”

He hesitated, but settled across from her. “Thanks.”

“Buffy’s not going to be patrolling,” Willow remembered suddenly. She didn’t look forward to being the bearer of bad news, but it was strange that he didn't already know.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s leaving tomorrow. Spending the summer with her dad. She didn’t tell you?”

He turned his gaze to Buffy, expressionless as he watched her dance. “No.”

“I’m sure she was going to,” Willow rushed to assure him.

“Yeah.” He added, after a moment, “I live near here. In case, while Buffy’s away, something happens and you need…help.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Near here was more than a little vague, Willow thought, but it was nice of him.

“I’ll write down my address and get it to you. When I can.”

“Cool.”

He was still watching Buffy, and his stare was starting to look a bit like a glower. “So you’ve seen, like, so many things,” Willow said in an overly-chipper attempt to change the subject.

She cringed a little when Angel looked her way. “I mean…I read about history, but you’ve lived it. You must have really good stories.”

Now Angel was the one who looked uncomfortable. “I guess that’s one way you could put it.”

“How would you put it?”

He was silent for so long that Willow worried he might decide to leave, rather than answer. “You don’t like to talk about yourself, huh.”

“Not much, no.”

“Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” he replied, without rancor.

Then he did answer, carefully. “Let’s just say that a person can make a lot of mistakes in 200 years. And I’m barely a person.”

“That must be hard. All those memories.”

He wasn’t expecting that level of understanding from someone her age, and it showed. “There are no words that can truly describe it.”

“I can still remember every one of the worst moments I’ve lived through,” Willow confessed. “Like I’m living them all over again. The fights I’ve had with Xander, the bullies that never seem satisfied. The Audio-Visual room full of dead kids that I knew, where I went all the time.”

She was the one who paused now, considering him carefully as that memory washed over her. Willow was struggling lately to make sense of a world that contained both that kind of vampire bloodbath, and Angel, who was so different.

“I know it’s not the same…but I understand feeling haunted,” she tried to explain. “Ashamed. And like something must be wrong with you, even if you don’t know why.”

He was watching her with that intense stare she still wasn’t used to. He didn’t speak.

Instead, the flash of knowing and being known passed between them silently when he nodded his agreement. It was crazy, with him being a vampire and all, but it felt like a meeting of souls.

And then Buffy came back with a soda in hand, Xander behind her, and the moment passed.

****

Angel heard her before she knocked, and opened the door carefully to gesture her in. Willow had arrived close to sunset, but not quite close enough. He had to stay behind the door while she entered.

“I need your help.”

Willow hadn’t come to his apartment before, though he’d seen her at the Bronze several times since he’d given her his address. She’d seemed touched by the gesture. He knew his motives were more selfish than kind.

If something happened to Buffy, he didn’t trust Xander to keep him informed–but Willow was much more sensible than the boy. And less territorial.

“Is something wrong?” Angel was already setting his book aside and standing, ready to follow her. “Is Buffy alright?”

Willow shook her head, holding both hands out to calm him quickly. “She’s fine. I heard from her yesterday. It’s not an emergency.”

“Okay…” Angel relaxed, but was now watching her with a bemused expression. It wasn’t an emergency and she had…showed up at his home?

“You’ve been around a long time.” Willow looked around his place while she spoke, rather than at him. He couldn’t tell if she was nervous or curious. “You’ve had centuries to learn about, well, anything you wanted.”

“I suppose.”

“I want to learn about magick.”

“You want to be a witch?” He didn’t look confused anymore–now Angel looked stricken. If it was possible, he became even paler than usual.

“No, I just want to learn about witchcraft. Like, as a hobby. A practical skill.”

Willow sighed. “You know what it’s like here. Better than I do. But ever since meeting Buffy–and you–I know that danger is everywhere. And magick can give a person power. I need to be able to protect myself better. Maybe even protect us all.”

Angel shook his head, avoiding eye contact while he spoke. “You shouldn't get involved with power like that. You don’t know what you would be getting into. It backfires. It hurts people. It does what it wants.”

“So you do know about magick then.” Willow’s chin jutted out stubbornly. “You can explain things to me.”

“I might be able to,” Angel admitted, “but I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not a hobby,” he said simply. “You can’t dabble in it. You can’t pick and choose parts of it to use as weapons. It will corrupt you, if you do. Using magick for good requires you to treat it like a practice. A calling, even. To wield that kind of power…”

He trailed off, and Willow could see something deep in his eyes, something dark and far away. It sent a shiver through her.

“It will change you forever,” Angel explained. “In ways you can’t know. I don’t want to be any part of that.”

He sat back down, gesturing for her to sit next to him.

“What brought you here, anyhow? Tonight, I mean. To me.”

“Well, I’ve been interested in witchcraft for a while. There are books in the library. Old books. Like nothing I’ve read before. And I went back to them to try and learn more, after Buffy had to fight this witch at school. I wanted to know what good witches were like, compared to Amy’s mom.”

Angel continued listening patiently as though he knew who Amy or her mom were.

“Giles realized I was consulting his books, and he-he kinda freaked out. I’ve never seen him so upset. I tried to explain, like this–I pointed out that Ms. Calendar uses magick for good. I promised I would use it to help Buffy. But he totally brushed me off, wouldn’t even listen.”

Willow’s voice was more formal when she continued. Angel recognized her tone as a Giles impression, even without the British accent.

“Ms. Calendar isn’t a witch. She simply incorporates some Pagan elements into her use of computers, and even that is risky–and not a path I would ever condone for someone your age. What you are talking about, Willow, is much more perilous, as well as wholly unnecessary. These forces are not to be trifled with.”

She sighed, slumping against his chair. “He locked all the books up after that. Not just the ones with spells in them, but even the history and theory books, the ones that explain different kinds of Paganism. And he’s been watching me ever since, with this weird look on his face, like…”

“Like you’re about to start levitating?”

“Exactly like that. He’s being ridiculous. I’m not Xander,” Willow protested, exasperation lacing her voice. “I’m not some irresponsible kid who doesn’t know what she’s dealing with. I saw how terrible it was, what Amy’s mom could do. I understand the seriousness of it. That’s why I need to learn–so I’ll be able to fight back.”

He seemed unmoved, but Willow pressed onward.

“Buffy can fight. She’s got superpowers, basically. And Xander is, well, Xander, but he and Giles are both bigger than me and stronger. I can’t predict what kind of monsters will come for us next, but I do know they’re coming. They keep coming. And I need my own way to be strong. This could be my way.”

Angel wanted to tell her that her words were truer than she realized, but he knew it would make everything worse–more complicated, not less. It wouldn’t stop her. It might ruin her.

So he asked her a question instead.

“If Giles banned you from his library, you could have gone to the public library, shops in town. Or researched online. You still haven’t explained. Why did you come to me?”

“You’re right, I could go online. Or those other places. But the ‘Net is full of unreliable sources, and given the risks I don’t think Ms. Calendar will encourage my independent studies any more than Giles. I don’t want to go to strangers.”

She bit her lip. “It’s probably dumb, but I thought…we’re on the same team. Team Buffy. I know you’ve had centuries to learn stuff, and I need to learn too. I hoped maybe you would give me a chance, if I could fight for good like you do.”

He could see it in her posture, the determination she had brought to his door. The certainty within her that his efforts so far hadn’t managed to shake.

It wasn’t going to be that easy, he realized. He should have known.

Witches and magick couldn’t be easily kept apart. Even when those witches didn’t know they were witches yet.

He could see it within her so clearly, the need to prove herself. The yearning to matter. He recognized it, a mirror of what brought him to Sunnydale in the first place. Angel had wanted to become someone worthy of Buffy’s light, as though good deeds would wash away his past.

Now, with Willow waiting for his response, he was forced to admit–if only to himself–that his efforts with Buffy were selfish. He was following his passions, just as he always had.

Attraction and need were pulling him toward Buffy even as it hurt them both, even as it defied the laws of nature, of good and evil. He knew better and yet he kept letting himself get closer to her. He let himself want her.

Willow was human, and her needs were as selfish, as deeply rooted. Authority figures couldn’t steer her away from power any more than burning flesh could sway Angel from the Slayer.

Willow might not realize it yet, he thought, but the magick was drawn to her the same way she was seeking it out.

Nothing would keep the two apart forever.

You could almost call it destiny.

Angel leaned back, sighed quietly. Then he nodded.

“I’ll help you.”

“Really?”

After her impassioned speeches, that made him laugh. “Yes, really. Better than you getting your information from a more dangerous source. And you have a point. You should know how to look after yourself. Buffy can’t always be around.”

She smiled, gratitude changing the way the light hit her face. For a moment, she looked older, less girlish. Angel could see the woman she would be, centered in her power, confident. He blinked and let that go.

“Neither can I,” he added, his tone serious again. “So you’ll learn. But it takes dedication. It’s not something you can try on and then leave behind. If you’re going to do this…really do this…you need to be ready. For whatever comes.”

“I understand.” Willow smiled again, this time softly. “I trust you.”

He didn’t like the way those words made him feel, coming from Buffy’s friend. If he let himself, he could sense her heartbeat from across the room. It was a small space, and he could smell perfume that she was wearing today, a light fragrance that reminded him of the Roseraie in Paris.

The vein in her neck that was jumping didn’t show a hint of panic. It proved her words true, though he had no other reason to doubt them. Willow was so sincere, it made him ache. Had he ever been that guileless? How long would she remain that way?

He couldn’t think about the blood running through her, the way she smelled even more intoxicating than Buffy and had brought herself unbidden to his home, with no one else aware.

He was lucky he’d spent a long time building up his willpower, and that he was living his life now for a reason–aiming for a higher purpose. Otherwise, it would have been far too easy to enjoy Willow’s company in a way that was not safe for either of them.

****

After several weekends of study at the Bronze, with Angel bringing her books and some practical supplies, he rang the doorbell of Willow's home.

Knowing he wasn't shielded much from the view of passersby, he waited close to her house's front windows. Beyond her footsteps, there was silence as she approached.

Lack of additional heartbeats made him bolder. If she hadn’t been alone, he would have dropped off the bag without waiting.

Willow opened the door and stared blankly at him. Recovering her manners hastily after that, she took a step back. “Angel! Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You’re at my house.”

“Yeah, I wanted to bring these by.” He lifted up the bag of books in his hand. “I know we said we’d meet Saturday at the Bronze, but I found these early. Figured you could use the extra time with them.”

“Oh, well, thanks. And, um, my parents are traveling, so I can bring those into the living room for now.” She turned to head that way, leaving him standing on the porch.

Angel cleared his throat. “Kind of need an invitation.”

“Right! Sorry. You’ve never been here before.”

“If you’re not comfortable,” he said, “I would understand. You can take the books yourself. I don’t have to come in.”

She huffed out a breath, and he got the distinct feeling that she might’ve rolled her eyes if he weren’t watching her so closely.

“Angel. Come in.”

She closed the door behind him after he entered and locked it. “It was really great of you to bring those by. I can’t wait to read the collection of beginner incantations you told me about.”

He smiled. “What are friends for?”

“Friends? Is-is that what we are?”

“I think so.” The guarded distance that Angel carried with him, that he’d begun relaxing around her, returned. “Is there something wrong with that?””

Willow shook her head “I don’t think so. But I don’t exactly have a lot of vampire friends. Or, well, any. So I wouldn’t really know.”

“And I don’t make a habit of befriending humans,” Angel pointed out. “Or anybody, much. So I’m probably the wrong vampire to ask.”

She took the books from him and sat on the couch, gesturing to the other end. “Well, then, friends it is.”

Willow reached for a text on magick theory, and she was hit with a sharp flash of deja vu.

It reminded her of the book that had unleashed Malcolm–Moloch, she corrected herself–on their world.

Clearly, Willow had decided after Malcolm, she wasn’t meant to have a boyfriend. Spending most of her life pining for her best friend–who didn’t see her that way–should have been a clue, even before the hyena possession.

But Malcolm had seemed so nice, and smart. As if he understood her. And then he wasn’t even human!

Plus there was that vampire, she reminded herself, right after Buffy arrived in Sunnydale. Willow was pretty sure nobody had a more pathetic dating record, especially considering she had never been asked out on a date.

Xander had been moping over Buffy during their summer hangouts, and that kept reminding her of her own un-luck in love. Kind of funny, though, that Xander complained way more about Buffy’s absence than her actual boyfriend did while in Willow's company.

She couldn’t help wondering why Moloch had decided to prey on her. Why he chose to fixate on her, of all people.

Something must be wrong with her.

She would have spent much longer in wallowing self-pity mode if not for Angel. “The opposite,” he said, in his matter-of-fact way. “You’re thinking about that all wrong.”

“Huh?”

She hadn’t been talking to him, exactly–more like worrying out loud.

“The demon didn’t choose you because there’s something wrong with you,” he explained, a little more gently. “I know I wasn’t there, but Buffy told me about it.”

“Okay.”

“Well, Moloch needed your help to be free, but he needed to be freed by magick.” Angel watched her, waiting for the click, for it to sink in.

“Wait, are you saying…” She blinked at him. “What exactly are you saying?”

“He needed to be free from the magick binding him. You were there, able to free him.”

Angel shifted a little where he sat, feeling trapped. He hadn’t wanted to be the one to introduce this idea to her world, but maybe it had been inevitable all along.

“He could sense the magickal potential in you.”

“He–” Willow gulped, audibly.

He held back the urge to chuckle.

“Is that a thing his type of demon can…do? That’s kind of intrusive.”

Angel waited a moment before admitting, “It’s not specific to him. All demons can sense magick. It’s not useful to all of us, but it’s there. You carry it in your blood.”

“Oh. So because you can sense my blood…”

“Yes. I felt it the first time I met you.”

“Why didn’t you say something? To me, if not to Buffy?”

“It would’ve been rude. And of no use to you–you weren’t a witch then.”

She pressed her lips together hard, thinking about it. She saw his point, and yet… “I still would have liked to know.”

He didn’t reply.

“Angel, promise me something?”

“What?”

“That if you know things about me, you won’t keep them from me, ever again. Secrets can ruin things.”

“That was the only thing I knew,” he countered, but she shook her head.

“I mean it. Friends should tell each other the truth. You can’t have trust without it.”

“You know, you shouldn’t trust a vampire,” Angel pointed out for the first time, his mouth quirked.

Willow grinned back. “Little late for that.” Then her face grew solemn again.

“Promise me.”

Angel considered it for a long time, while she watched him and waited. He knew the weight of making vows; he didn’t take them lightly. Especially now that his life was eternal.

She probably couldn’t understand what she was asking, to expect him to keep his word. To demand that he prove himself trustworthy rather than trusting him as easily as she had so far. But he understood.

To befriend a human was no small choice. Not without risks. He had done so with this one, and didn’t regret it; Willow was unique among them.

To promise her anything was another choice, and Angel knew he might regret it. But he wanted to be who she saw, in the asking. He wanted to prove he was trustworthy, in some real way, if only to himself.

When he nodded, matching her serious face with his own, he could feel something shift between them. Like a crack in a wall.

“I promise,” Angel told her.

And Willow smiled, dipping her chin to return to the books. Her long hair veiled her face a little, her eyes roaming quickly across the current page.

“I should go,” Angel said. “Enjoy the reading.”

“Oh.” She looked up. “You don’t have to.”

“Well, you can keep the books as long as you want. I’ll get them back when you’re done.”

“Thanks.”

Before he stood to leave, Willow asked, “What if I have questions for you?”

“You mean, about the magick?”

“Yeah. Isn’t it just, like, practical if you stay–in case I need your help?” She blushed a little. “I mean, if you don’t have somewhere else to be. I wouldn’t want to–”

“I don’t have anywhere to be.”

Charmed by her welcome, Angel settled into his seat.

The silence between them was easy as Willow read, and he looked around her living room and kept his thoughts to himself.

She didn’t end up asking him any questions, but when he left an hour later, neither of them mentioned it. Angel walked home feeling lighter somehow, and Willow dreamed of candle flames and cemeteries when she slept that night.

#willow x angel #willow x angel fic #angel x willow #angel #willow rosenberg #btvs fic #my fic #ogiatw fic

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yourknightingale · 6 years ago

Text

Platonic As In Just Friends

Summary: Beca has already met Chloe's mom and she's also letting Chloe be touchy with her - all in just a span of one year of knowing each other in Barden. Oh how their friendship blooms!

"Remind me again why I'm with you and your mom shopping in this crowded mall on a Saturday afternoon. You know, the opportunity cost of this is me, in my room, doing mixes, which to be very honest with you I would rather be doing."

Chloe feigns shock. "Oh, please. You already know it that my mom loves you. If anything, she forgets she has a daughter – me – her only daughter, and treats you like a honey you are." She then playfully pinches the girl's right cheek. "My brothers would probably enjoy your company, too."

Beca can't help but just roll her eyes. The Beales are really one of a kind, like they're a different breed. She's not usually a parent-friendly kid but she guesses with the right family, she can be.

"Beca, honey," Mrs. Beale calls out. "Would you mind going with me inside this lingerie store? They're having a sale and I want to see if I could find a brassiere my skin colour. For when I wear my casual outfits, dear."

The brunette's eyes widen a little at this blunt remark and she can hear Chloe's laugh as she gets pulled into a store. She doesn't even recall answering Chloe's mom's request but at this point, it's not a surprise anymore.

The 3 ladies spend a good few hours walking around the mall, checking a few items out, putting them back, and buying both unnecessary and necessary things. Beca believes Chloe is just an impulse buyer to which the redhead disagrees.

"Don't listen to her, Beca. She knows she's impulsive that one." Mrs. Beale adds. Both she and Beca chuckle when they see Chloe give her mom a look.

They make their way to the parking lot and while Beca helps put some stuff in the trunk, she hears Mrs. Beale say, "Did you two notice the two lesbians walking in front of us earlier?"

"Mom!" Chloe yells, her hand on the passenger seat door tightening.

"What, dear? I'm not saying anything wrong. I was just asking!" She goes in to the driver seat and calls out to Beca to come in when she's done.

When Beca settles in the back seat, she tells them she hadn't notice. "I was busy looking at my shoes."

"What made you say they were lesbians, mom?" Chloe asks.

"They were holding hands. And they walk really close to each other."

"Friends do that, too. I think I saw them and I actually didn't think they were lovers or anything. Also, even if they were, good for them for being out like that."

"I know, dear." Mrs. Beale sighs. "I just don't know what it is these days. But I just want to tell you that I don't have a problem with it." She takes Chloe's hand while her other clutches the wheel, driving away from the parking lot and into Barden.

It's a little past 6 by the time they reach the campus. Mrs. Beale leaves them both a thank you and a goodbye kiss when she drops them off and disappears into the streets.

Beca and Chloe decide to grab something to eat. Because of a lot of bickering on where to go and what to get, it's already dark when they were walking home. They're taking their time on this lovely night stroll around the university, crossing over the empty pool arena, way past the radio station, and into the dorms.

The girls are almost at the Bellas house; they just have to cross the green field. Beca, however, lags behind the redhead and stops walking. "Hey, Beale. I may not show it enough but I really like your mom. I didn't think I'd enjoy these kind of things but since meeting you, it has been okay."

Chloe turns to look at her. "What do you mean "okay"? I know you're a weirdo but not this sappy kind of weirdo. Must be that coffee. Did they spike it?"

"Haha. Yeah, no. I mean, I told the Bellas how I never really had a lot of girl friends before but now, I'm really feeling this. You know? I'm enjoying our friendship so much that I even feel comfortable meeting your mom. I never would have imagined something like that happening to me."

"I'm liking this." Chloe takes a step closer to Beca. "Go on."

The brunette continues, "You're the weird one. But hey, you're the reason why I was able to hold back when Aubrey is around so I guess, I'll keep you."

"Seriously, Becs, Aubrey is starting to like you. We won the championship. And you played a huge part on that so she can never really hate you… even when she wants to." Chloe winks. "Also, I'll be around. I'm doing my year again, remember?"

"Oh yeah! Russian Lit is a sucker."

"I know."

The redhead stretches out her arm for Beca to take. When she does, Chloe entwines their fingers together. Suddenly, Beca remembers Mrs. Beale's words from earlier.

"Is this okay?" She snaps out of her trance upon hearing Chloe's voice. "Do you feel comfortable?"

She's certain that the senior is thinking about the same thing. But she also agrees that some friends are just THAT close together. She's known Chloe at least a year and look how far they've come already. Beca still isn't as comfortable like this with every Bella but Chloe is a nice start.

With Chloe, it's good.

With Chloe, it's safe.

It's Chloe.

She doesn't have to entertain any unknown feelings yet.

"You know what, lemme just.." The smaller girl scrambles to move to the other side. "There. I'm a lefty. My right hand is holding your left and this feels so much better." She then holds their entwined fingers up to emphasize it to Chloe.

"Right. Good one." Chloe mumbles.

They carry on in this position until they reach the Bella's doorstep.

"I know you and the girls don't move in until Wednesday," Chloe starts, letting go of Beca's hand, "but you can stay the night tonight. We can watch a movie! Unless you're not done packing up?"

"I literally just need to box my equipment but I'm good to go tomorrow if I can." Beca teases. "And I know you're only suggesting watching a movie even though you know I hate movies because you like listening to me "critic" these movies from "an outsider point-of-view". Beale, you're killing me. But between this and Kimmy Jin, this is the least evil."

"I'm glad you like hanging out with me, too!" Chloe pushes the door open. "Come on in to your future home."

The movie plays in the background and Beca can hardly pay attention because Chloe just talks. She doesn't mind; she's not really here for the movie.

"I'm surprise you and Jesse aren't dating yet."

"Yeah, well, it was more of an apology than anything. I think I just got high from winning, that's all."

"Right right, of course. Totally makes sense."

Even when the movie is at its climax, the two still go in and out of random conversations.

"My dad saw it coming. Should've seen the look on his face when I told him I'm staying."

"Gotta give it to Dr. Mitchell, Becs. Don't worry, we'll take care of you here. I'll take care of you personally."

"Wow, Chlo. I'm not 5 but thanks."

The movie is at its last scene where these two teens from this romcom (Beca doesn't know the title) finally kiss and both girls are quietly watching.

"See, this is what I don't get." Chloe points at the screen with her palm, ready for a debate stance. "Why does this happen in every high school romcom? They know each other a short time, they talk for less than that, they kiss and it's the end."

Beca tries to level with her and jokes, "Well, Chloe, when two people love each other.."

"They don't even have to love each other. They just kiss for fun."

Beca turns to look at Chloe with a frown. "You sound like you don't kiss for fun."

"I do. I believe kissing is fun." Chloe sighs in defeat and just gazes at Beca. "These kids just make it look so easy."

"Chloe I-Can-And-Will-Date-Anybody-I-Can Beale is commenting on how some teens from a movie makes dating and kissing so easy? Wow, this is news." Beca notices how the redhead's stare lingers even when she already turns her head towards the tv screen again.

"Surprisingly, I don't get everybody I want. Some I have to hold back."

Beca can still feel the burning gaze that Chloe is giving her but she refuses to look. She refuses because she knows if she does, she's gonna end up wanting to kiss Chloe. And she knows if she starts thinking about wanting to kiss Chloe or actually kissing Chloe, their platonic relationship won't be so platonic anymore. No more platonic dating. Platonic hand-holding. Platonic sleepovers. Beca knows platonic kissing will cross the boundary she has laid for her friendship with Chloe. What they have is enough for Beca. For now.

"I think I'll go out with Jesse."

The next thing Beca knows is that she is wrapped around Chloe's arm in a tight hug. It's a bit awkward because they are sitting on the carpet with their backs on the couch but Chloe somehow manages to envelope all of Beca in one scoop.

"That's good to hear, Beca." She hears Chloe say in her ear. "Go for it."

Although a bit taken aback, the brunette decidedly puts her arm around Chloe, too. She may not have anticipated her own strength that she somehow pushes Chloe down the floor, still in an embrace. The other girl laughs as Beca holds them both back up in sitting position again.

It's a longer hug than normal friends do but what's normal for them, anyway, Beca doesn't care. "You think so?" She whispers to Chloe.

Chloe ever so slowly pulls back and puts her face an inch away from Beca. With those blue eyes staring into her and hot breath hitting her face, she finds it hard to move. She's starting to feel something when she catches Chloe nod a little.

That's it.

Then she touches Chloe's forehead with hers. Like she's trying to convey what she doesn't even acknowledge yet.

They're going to be platonic college buddies, she thinks as she dims everything out.

#bechloe #one shot #beca mitchell #chloe beale #Pitch Perfect #platonic buddies #i'm going through a lot like this recently so forgive me #theres no plot even in this #just needed to get it out

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justmickeyfornow · 7 years ago

Note

I just read your valentine one shot and your are natural at writing ✍️ Can you do another one where Kara is surprised because Lena doesn’t have a Netflix account and Lena been Lena buy Netflix the next day

Glad you liked the Valentines one-shot! It was super fun to write even though fluff is definitely not my area of expertise. I usually would much rather dabble in angst and heartbreak if I say so myself. This was also really fun to write, I wanted to make it a bit longer but the longer I write for this, the more I’ll be ignoring PI (Hello, my procrastinating ass -_-)

Also, credit to this prompt goes to @karalovesallthegirls (if I’m not mistaken) for this post that they made a while back. Hope you don’t mind I kinda played around with it a bit.

“Ms. Luthor, this isn’t something you can just… Buy out of the blue.”

“I suggest you don’t tell me what I can or cannot buy. Get me whoever owns the company at the moment on the phone or so help me God I’ll find someone who can.”

Lena slammed the phone down on yet another board member who was stupid enough to question yet another one of her investments.

“Isn’t something I can buy,” she mumbled to herself before scoffing, “I can buy whatever the hell it is I want.”

So there has been a list.

A list of investments that Lena isn’t exactly proud of. Investments that had absolutely nothing to do with L-Corp whatsoever. A list of investments that Lena wouldn’t have even considered prior to a certain blonde walking into her life.

Over the course of her friendship with Kara Danvers, Lena had bought various donut shops for the sake of them rethinking their rash decision of discontinuing one of Kara’s favorite donut types.

Who do they think they are? Discontinuing THAT donut type and putting a pout on Kara’s face where there should only ever be a smile!

That same pout resulted in Lena’s decision of buying 13 - or was it 16? - chinese restaurants within the vicinity of Kara Danvers’ usual route. Her only demand as their new boss was to open until midnight and serve potstickers at any given time of the day.

This was all a result of Kara one day saying “Awww It’s past 9 and that Chinese place I told you about is probably closed by now” . And of course there was that domineering, mind controlling and oh so fascinating pout.

And that was it for Lena.

The next thing she knew she was buying not one, not two, but all the Chinese places within the area and demanding they stay open - with an exceptional raise of course - as well as serve potstickers on their breakfast, lunch, and dinner menus.

The list continues with various restaurants bought, specific donut types doubled, flower shops purchased, and a few random investments that Lena couldn’t even begin to remember.

And now, here she was again. Buying Netflix. Because Kara Danvers used that pout when she found out that Lena didn’t own Netflix.

“What do you mean Bruce Wayne has already made an offer on it?” Lena’s patience was running thin. She had a million other things she needed to do but she still pushed this to the top of her list because well…A crush is a crush and she can’t help herself. “Well how much is he offering? Anything more than any other offer? Is that what he said?”

Bruce Wayne and his cocky way of conducting business.

Lena pressed the intercom on her phone, “Get me Bruce Wayne on the phone now please,” she ordered, exasperated.

She sighed and clicked her pen repeatedly, “Bruce Wayne. Why on Earth would that man need…” she muttered under her breath before her assistant’s voice sounded over the intercom.

“Bruce Wayne on the line for you Ms. Luthor.”

Lena picked up the phone a little too quickly, “Bruce,” she greeted rather hurriedly.

“Lena,” he greeted back politely, completely unaware of the clicking pen in Lena’s hand, “It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you. How’ve…”

“Bruce I’d really love to catch up but this is more of a favor kind of call.”

That seemed to surprise Bruce, but he composed himself quickly, “Alright. What do you need?”

“I want to buy Netflix,” Lena blurted out. She didn’t have time to waste on pleasantries.

There was a long silence on the other line and then, “Oh.”

“You have an offer on it.”

Lena could almost sense a hint of nervousness coming from Bruce’s voice coming from the other end of the line, “Umm yeah I do.”

“I really need to buy the company, Bruce. And I’m sure Wayne Industries doesn’t truly need an entertainment company to add to its…”

“Lena, you know I’d love nothing more than to help. But this…” Bruce seemed reluctant.

“But you don’t need this.”

“Neither does L-Corp. Aren’t you all about curing cancer and matter reconfiguration?” He retorted.

“Yes, but…” Lena was finding it harder to keep the real reason she needed the company at bay, “Well what do you need the company for anyway?”

“I umm well it’s a really good investment and it makes good money for my company.” Bruce replied.

Lena sighed, “Ok fine. I’m buying the company because someone I have a tremendously ridiculous crush on asked me to.”

Bruce was silent for a few seconds, “I see.”

“It’s quite embarrassing I know. I never have crushes. I haven’t the slightest clue as to where this one had shown up from. But it somehow did, and this crush has more than once been somewhat of a…

“I’m buying Netflix because of someone I like too,” Bruce suddenly blurted out.

Well, that was unexpected.

“Oh,” she found herself simply saying.

Just then, the image of her infatuation walked into her office being all bubbly smiles and beautiful sunshine. Lena waved for Kara to come in. Bruce was explaining how ‘like’ was such a strong word and that he much rather call it something far less serious.

“Bruce,” Lena hissed into the phone, resulting in him shutting up, “Listen I really need this. I really think this is my shot at finally getting the girl. Look I promise i’ll help you with your thing if you do this one thing for me. I gotta go, now. Bye.”

And with that she hung up and looked up at Kara who was still smiling like she had just gotten a puppy.

“Kara!” Lena got up from behind her desk to do the thing she thinks way too much about. Hugging Kara Danvers.

“Lena,” Kara wrapped her arms around her shoulders, the embrace tugging on Lena’s heartstrings. “You didn’t have to end your phone call on my account. I could’ve waited.”

“Nonsense. I was finished with that call anyway.”

They both went on there usual routine of sitting on the couch and passing lunch orders between them.

Lena cleared her throat before speaking, “I was just getting Netflix actually,” she mentioned casually.

Kara’s head perched up, looking at her, “Oh, really? That’s great! This is huge!”

“It is. I mean it sure costs as much.”

Kara laughed as though Lena had just made the funniest joke, and Lena was too shocked and embarrassed to ask what was funny, not to mention she was a tad bit proud of herself for making Kara laugh in a heartfelt manner. She was not about to put a stop to it by asking what exactly was funny. She found herself adding in her own small laugh into the mix.

“But it’s worth it I promise,” Kara finally said.

Lena looked at her longingly, “I sure hope so,”

“You know what’s sad, though?”

Lena dug her fork into her salad, her focus on catching that small piece of tomato, “What?”

“Netflix doesn’t have all the Disney movies out there.”

The CEO’s head suddenly snapped up at the sound of Kara’s pout, “Oh? It doesn’t?” and surely enough there it was: the famous pout that tore at Lena’s heart.

“Mhmm. There are so many good ones that aren’t on Netflix,” Kara nodded, taking another bite out of her own plate.

“And that… umm that saddens you?” Lena’s hand on its own accord began slowly sliding towards her phone on the sofa beside her.

“It does,” Kara replied, completely unaware of Lena’s thumb typing on her phone, “I mean you can’t have a movie marathon with only some of the Disney movies, now can you?” she shrugged.

“No, you absolutely cannot,” Lena said distractedly, most of her attention on the words she was typing on her phone.

Jess, get me whoever is in charge of Disney movies on the phone after my lunch break with Ms. Danvers.

Satisfied with the message, Lena focused back on finding out more about how to erase that pout off of Kara’s beautiful face, “And what… umm what else isn’t on Netflix that you would want added to the company?”

Kara gave her a look that Lena had absolutely no clue what it meant, but she said nothing and instead looked up in thought, her fork hovering in the air, “Well, definitely that show Merlin. I heard it’s really good. It’s got dragons and stuff. And a really really pretty princess that turns evil.” Kara suddenly clasped her hand on her mouth, “Oops, I just ruined it for you!”

Lena smiled at Kara, “A pretty princess that turns evil, hmm? Sounds intriguing to be honest,” she commented, taking a slight peak at where her thumb was typing at her phone.

Also, Merlin.

“That’s what Alex said. I still haven’t watched it.”

Lena felt her phone vibrate at the reply coming from her assistant.

Merlin who?

“Anything else?” Lena arched a brow, her face showing none of the frustration she was feeling at her assistant not understanding immediately what she wanted. Her thumb skillfully typed away quickly at the screen while her eyes never left Kara’s.

Get me Merlin on the phone. The show. Something about a pretty princess turning evil.

Kara chuckled after taking a sip of her juice, “I don’t know. There are plenty of things that aren’t on Netflix that I wish were there. I would just bore you with endless…”

“Oh no, please. I’d like nothing more than…” Lena felt another vibration from her phone and smiled when she read Jess’ text.

I’ll… look into it Ms. Luthor.

“So, tell me more about this pretty princess that you seem to really like,” Lena said.

I might complete it later on with Kara’s reaction, who knows!

#supercorp one shot #one-shot #supercorp #lena buys netflix #lena just loves buying things for kara #just leave her alone okm #she's desperate for affection and she doesn't know how to ask for itk #ask #anon #netflix #lena luthor #bruce wayne

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