Chapter 12
We talk through good phrasing for the spell while finding supplies that will help, different crystals, herbs, and candles we can light.
Soon enough we sit on the floor, facing each other both of us lighting candles on one side of the circle and count by nodding so that we start speaking in sync.
“Child of words, hear they makers. Child of words, we entreat. With our actions we did make thee, to our voices wilt though bend. With our potions thou took motive, with our motions came to pass. We rescind no past devotions, give thee substance, give thee mass.”
We repeat the verse several more times trying to feel if anything has happened. We haven’t received a phone call saying everything is squared or way or something tragic has occurred so maybe that’s something.
I realize I’m the only one talking and look over to see why Willow has stopped. I didn’t feel any prickling nastiness in the air so it’s nothing to do with the demon-spirit taking her over to make her stop. No, there’s a golden light over Willow. I hold my breath, and then my chest clenches as she opens her eyes and they’re completely black. She pulls her hands away from mine.
WHAT IS GOING ON?
“Solid.” She declares, grandly.
She looks down at me and her eyes are normal again. The golden light fades away and I’m expecting her to slump down the same way that everyone has been doing when the demon has left them but she’s staring at me panting, excited and bright eyed.
“That was such a rush!” she declares, “Did you feel it?”
I shake my head. I feel like we can start clearing things up so I do.
“Babe?” she asks.
I shake my head again, my heart is pounding in my ears, “I didn’t—it was just you. You were covered in golden light, but your eyes—your eyes were black. It was unnerving.”
“What are you freaking out for?” she says, “It worked. I know it worked. We’ll be getting a call in a few minutes, I’m sure, saying everything is dealt with—”
I nod, “I know. I just—how did you do that? How did it happen? Where did that light come from?” I’m standing up now, cradling an arm of crystals to cleanse and put away.
“It worked.” She says, “What more matters?”
“Will—” I say, cautiously, “Messing with things we don’t understand. It can be dangerous. I know it’s magic, and magic is in the hands of the wielder and—” I set the crystals on the table because my hands are itching to help me talk, “—and it’s neither really good or bad the people themselves are what’s good and bad, but if something is coming from some place you don’t fully understand that—that makes me nervous, because what if it’s from some creature or spirit or something trying to influence you so it’s aiding you and there’ll be some cost later. We literally just experienced a spell with a hidden cost.”
“Gift with purchase.” She echoes Anya.
I pull a face at her, “I know you understand what I’m saying, Will. Don’t deflect.”
She pouts a little, but she crosses the room to me and takes my now empty hands, “I’m sorry that I scared you.” She says.
It seems a little hollow.
“But I feel fine,” she continues, “Better than fine.”
That’s what scares me.
I don’t remember us getting home, probably because I’m so exhausted. Xander is dragging something heavy out of the house and towards his car, looking annoyed.
“Why can’t everything poof like the vampires do?” he demands.
Willow apologizes given we—she is the one who gave it form and didn’t think about the disposal aspect of things. Dawn is already in bed, and I can’t wait to lay down. Buffy is sitting in the family room which is dark given the plywood on the window frames.
“We did it.” Buffy remarks, “Xander and Anya tell me you and Willow performed the spell so I could kill it. Thank you.”
“It was Willow.” I start to explain.
“You’re a witch too.” Buffy says. Her voice is a little more animated than it has been which is good to hear.
“I know but—” I glance back to where Willow is helping Xander heft the demon remains into his trunk, “—I’m nowhere near her level.”
Buffy stands up, “Don’t sell yourself short.”
“I’m just being realistic.” I explain, “and in being realistic I’m exhausted. I feel like I’ve been up for three days.”
She just stares, but then she doesn’t know about the night before last.
“Never mind.” I tell her, “I’m going up to bed, Will!” I call towards the door.
She waves and blows me a kiss. You’d think she’d slept the way she’s been since “SOLID” happened. I feel like I could sleep for a week and still be tired given all the recent magic and research and the demon stress. I kick off my shoes in the pile next to the stairs and walk up there slowly and carefully trying to stretch myself out before I flop on the bed, realize I need to get changed out of my clothes, as far as I get is shimmying out of my skirt and leaving it in a pile on the floor, and pulling the blinds closed to try and keep out the sunshine I flop on the bed again.
Now, of course, my mind starts racing. What if something else happens because of that spell? Why did it keep talking about blood on our hands and blood that we spilled? What about Willow? The spell to save Buffy took so much out of her that I had to help her home, but the spell we did just now she’s so energized and hyped up—how is that possible? How did she even just SOLID it? I know she’s strong, but I couldn’t…I know I could never do something like that.
I put the pillow over my head for a moment and scream into the bed. I need to calm down. I don’t have the energy to go downstairs and get tea. I seriously need to sleep.
Focus. Calm. Breathe. Breathe in and breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. There’s a white light coming from all around to wrap you in protective energy from the top of your head, all around your body, down to your toes. Breathe in. Breathe out.
When I wake up Willow is curled up next to me, watching me. She smiles when I look at her and reaches over as I shift on the pillow to move a couple of strands of hair away from my mouth and face.
“Hey, you.” She says, softly.
“Did you sleep?” I ask her.
“A bit.” She shrugs, “I’m fine. How are you?”
“Decent.” I shift in the bed so that I can snuggle closer to her, “Not looking forward to starting the cleanup effort in the rest of the house, though.”
“It’ll be fine.” Willow says, not dismissively, but there’s something a bit too light about it.
“It’ll be a lot of work.” I remind her, kissing her on the nose, “We have windows and furniture to rebuild or replace. As well as whatever you need to do to fix the computer.”
She kisses me, “You’re worrying too much again.” She says, when we separate.
“Someone has to.” I point out. You sure don’t seem to anymore.
She kisses me again, “Let me help you destress.” She remarks, moving my shirt so that she can kiss my shoulder.
“Will…” I try to dissuade, but there’s little weight to it and I’m soon shedding my clothes and she’s shedding hers and we’re kissing each other in various ways and places, extending the pleasurable experience as long as we can.
It’s me who kisses down her body, however, before she flips me onto the mattress and wags a finger at me, “I said.” She kisses me, “that I wanted,” she kisses me again, “to destress.” Another kiss, “You.” And then she trails a wavy line down my body so that she can get both of my breasts as she goes.
She teases by not doing anything once she gets to that point just above my nethers and then she kisses my clit before applying some pressure there with her lips and sucking and nibbling, gently, upon that so important nub. I feel the wetness pooling in my groin and she’s able to slip three fingers easily inside, to massage and wriggle as my heart begins to beat faster and faster and I’m panting and struggling to focus enough to decide if I’m going to put my fingers in her hair or grip the sheets as the lights begin to blur and sparkle and my brain becomes more and more discombobulated. Everything slowly burns and brightens until it goes from a pinprick to a bright burning sun, and I find myself panting down the other side murmuring her name like a prayer.