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Several years ago I started this WIP: Wild Fire . I had been working on Taming Her Heart the first time I rediscovered it and had added to my list of fics that needed new breath. Of course, it went to the back burner and it took a recent comment from someone going through my archives to make me realize I needed to tackle it again.
Unlike most stories I write, I wanted to "re-write" this story in its entirety before I posted it publicly and I can safely say that as a story it grew and changed in ways I hadn't planned on when I first started writing it.
And now that I have that speech out of the way, I bring you Holding Her Own.
---
Title: Holding Her Own (1/10)
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Willow/Angelus, Willow/Tara, Willow/Angel (friendship)
Word Count: 1844
Overall Rating/Highlight for Warnings: FRAO/NC-17; **angst/dark themes, character death, drug use, crude language (including sexual swearing) violence, sex**
Setting: Set Post-Season 5 of BtVS/Season 2 of AtS.
Summary: Still struggling with Buffy's death, Willow gets an unexpected visitor that brings a whole new set of problems to Sunnydale.
Betas: the unmistakable
velvetwhip and
angelskuuipo. All other mistakes are mine.
A/N: Several years ago, I started a WIP that never went further than the first chapter. This is my attempt to fix that. Enjoy!

Check out my shiny new header made by the marvelous
spikesredqueen. :)
***
Willow had frog fear. She also had spider fear, snake fear, and bug fear. It was the latter reason that was suddenly making her wonder why she had chosen to magically transport herself onto the roof of a mausoleum instead of making her lookout point someplace nicer…like a…tree branch. Trees had birds. Birds ate bugs and spiders. Sure they had their own brand of irritating traits, but if Mother Nature had a competition, and if Willow was one of the judges, birds would win the least-annoying-critter-to-hang-out-with-on-patrol category hands down.
When some unknown thing scuttled past her foot, a small ‘meep’ left Willow’s lips and a shudder zipped down her spine. It really wasn’t the least bit funny that a bug had the ability to draw a more heart-pumping panic response from her than the average vampire did. Perhaps Buffy’s unwavering confidence in the face of things that go bump in the night had rubbed off on her more than she realized…
Buffy…
Buffy had been dead for three weeks now and the hole in their lives had barely shrunk. Sure, they had all been doing their best to deal with it. Willow had even done some fiddling and got the Buffybot up and running so that the demon community wouldn’t start getting suspicious about the lack of a Slayer in town. But that didn’t change the fact that beneath the familiar skin and face of someone Willow had called a best friend was a mess of wires, metal, and circuits. Her experience with Moloch had taught her that you couldn’t love a machine.
“Spot any vamps yet, Will?” Xander asked, peering up at her from the ground below. The darkness and shadows made his facial expressions hard to see, but she could swear she spotted his lips crinkling into a goofy smile. It was reassuring to see something so genuine looking, even though he was fighting through the same dense fog she was. It made things feel a bit more normal.
For the most part, anyways. Although Buffy's memory didn't leave her the forefront of her mind, Willow was able to refocus her energies and reassess the situation to avoid letting the rest of her friends get killed. Turning her head ninety degrees, she spotted a shock of gelled blond hair and a shaggy brown mop heading towards them at alarming speed. From the other side of the woods, Willow saw another vampire, bald and chubby, lumbering towards them.
“Xander, Anya. Go around the Van Galen tomb. Vampire coming towards you from the left.”
Both Xander and Anya noticeably flinched at her telepathic instructions and Anya flashed her a glare as they moved off to their designated location. It was a magical ability that she had recently developed after her successes with getting Buffy out of a catatonic state and restoring Tara’s obliterated mind. The problem was that no one else cared for it. They didn’t see it's usefulness the same way Willow did. They didn’t understand that she wasn’t trying to invade their minds and discover all their secrets. It didn’t matter how many times she tried to explain that it was just an effective method of keeping them safe and maintaining the art of surprise in their attacks. It didn't even matter that Xander had spent enough time teaching her the mythology of Spiderman that she felt confident enough to follow the infamous motto: ‘With great power comes great responsibility' and she had no intentions of botching that up. Because they had chosen her to be their leader, she was dedicated to keeping them all safe, whether they liked her methods or not.
A loud grunt and the harsh snapping of fangs against metal caused Willow to turn back towards Spike who had successfully pinned the brunette vampire he’d been chasing against the grating of the cemetery’s side fence. Yanking one of the vamp’s arms behind her back, Willow watched as Spike used his other hand to grab the brunette’s pony tail and use it as leverage to slam the woman’s face into the fence. She screamed and snarled, her body writhing spasmodically as she struggled to free herself from Spike’s grip.
“Fuck you,” she cursed, loud enough for the entire cemetery to hear.
“Ta, pet. But I don’t think you could handle this,” Spike replied, releasing his grip on her hair and sticking his hand into his coat pocket. From there, he produced his stainless steel lighter and flipped open the top. Before the woman could abuse the few seconds where only one of Spike’s arms was keeping her in place, Spike brought the lighter to the fringe of the her hair and backed up quickly as the flames enveloped her scalp, bringing on a whole new round of screaming.
Once she exploded into a cloud of dust, Spike leaned back against the fence and a Marlboro appeared between his fingers as if by magic. Vampire speed certainly could produce some pretty spectacular illusions, but Willow wasn’t impressed.
“Spike!” Xander called, his breath catching in his throat and making his voice sound more high-pitched. Willow twisted her neck to the side and spotted Anya getting a piggy-back ride from the other vampire. In the pale moonlight, Willow could see Anya’s face scrunched up from the exertion as she clung to the demon's neck.
“Spike…” Willow admonished; her arms akimbo as she narrowed her eyes and looked down at him.
“I’m going, I’m going.” Spike muttered, shuffling off towards Xander and Anya and using his vampire dexterity to replace his cigarette with a stake that he’d tucked into his worn, black combat boots.
As Spike approached, the fat vampire whipped around, fangs bared and eyes feral. The force with which he moved his body caused Anya to lose her grip and tumble backwards. She hit the grass with a soft thump and laid there for a moment with a dazed expression. Xander glanced over in her direction, concern passing over his face. It was quickly replaced with relief when Anya nodded her reassurance that she was okay.
“I can kill this one,” a perky voice said, as the Buffybot emerged from behind a gravestone. “I’m the Slayer. We kill vampires for breakfast.”
The robot then delivered a side kick to the vampire’s gut, which momentarily disoriented him enough for Spike to slam the stake home and send the ashes scattering into the wind.
“Job well done, guys,” Willow said, closing her eyes and muttering the brief Latin phrase that would finally get her away from the tiny critters that gave her the heebie-jeebies. Next time she did this, there was definitely going to be an insect removal spell. Just call her Willow Rosenberg, magical exterminator extraordinaire.
“Why didn’t Giles and Tara have to come?” Anya said, wincing slightly as she got back on her feet. “I mean, I work twice as hard as they do. Shouldn’t I get a break?”
“Tara’s watching Dawn,” Willow replied, coming to her girlfriend’s defense. “And Giles is…”
To be honest, she didn’t really know what Giles was doing. Usually, he was out fighting the good fight with them, but tonight he’d asked for a reprieve without elaborating on his reasoning. Willow had been perfectly okay giving him a break though. His absence hadn’t hurt their success rate too much.
“Drinking a cuppa tea and wanking off to old Hepburn films,” Spike offered, seductively flicking his tongue over his bottom lip and thrusting his hips forward.
Willow couldn’t even bring herself to utter a single ‘eww’. Exhaustion was setting in and she was anxious to get home and see Tara. Patrols always felt so much longer and harder when Tara wasn’t around to be her mega-witch back-up.
As they reached Revello Drive, Willow gave Xander and Anya a little wave and she headed off with the Buffybot towards the front door of the house. She stuck her key into the lock and turned the knob, immediately struck by the intoxicating smell of freshly grated Parmesan and the bubbling sound of boiling pasta. She loved it when Tara had dinner waiting for her. It was something she’d never gotten from her parents, they had never really cared about the art of a home cooked meal, so it was nice getting it elsewhere. “Tara?”
Before she could hear Tara’s response, the Buffybot interrupted: “There’s a note for you, Willow.”
Willow’s gaze followed the direction the robot’s finger was pointing and saw that there was a small white card sitting on the wooden pedestal table that was located right where the staircase intersected the living room. Joyce had always been proud of that piece of furniture as apparently it had been given to her by her great-grandmother.
Willow could see her name on the card, written in elegant calligraphy, each letter swooping just so. She would have liked to believe that Tara had been studying the art of writing as a hobby, but the memories unearthed by the vaguely familiar scrawl made her feel anxious and edgy.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
“Tara?” She called again, feeling more desperate and more fearful. “Dawn?”
The card slipped from her fingers, fluttering to the floor, message still unread. Without waiting to hear the robot’s protest about her littering, Willow raced up the stairs as fast as she could. When she reached the landing, she exhaled sharply and looked straight ahead. The door to their bedroom was closed and only what seemed to be candlelight flickered from underneath.
“Tara?”
Terrified, she pushed open the door and felt her breath leave her with a sudden whoosh. There were rose petals scattered everywhere and in the middle of the bed she saw…
“Oh God…Tara...”
The still form lying in the queen sized bed didn’t move, didn't turn her blonde head towards Willow to offer a greeting and a smile. Numbness instantly took hold of Willow’s arms and legs, making her feel paralyzed. She didn’t have the strength to move closer, didn’t have the strength to see if it was really…
Suddenly the girl’s head twitched, a sign that random nerves were still firing signals to the brain, evidence that the girl couldn’t have been dead for very long. The sharp, jolting movement caused the girl’s head to finally roll towards Willow. Willow’s jaw dropped in a silent scream as she realized the victim in her bed wasn’t Tara. She didn’t know whether or not she could breathe a sigh of relief. But then Willow decided that it was too soon to feel happy. It didn’t matter who she was. She was never going to wake up again.
This was, by far, the most sadistic joke anyone had ever played on her…and that included finding her dead fish strung up like her mother’s favorite pearl necklace.
“Do you like your present, Willow?”
A haunting yet familiar male voice pierced through her fear and grief and Willow looked up just in time to see Angelus stepping out of the shadows, wearing tight leather pants and an awful smirk that sent ice cold shivers down her spine.
“I heard this was your type now.”
Unlike most stories I write, I wanted to "re-write" this story in its entirety before I posted it publicly and I can safely say that as a story it grew and changed in ways I hadn't planned on when I first started writing it.
And now that I have that speech out of the way, I bring you Holding Her Own.
---
Title: Holding Her Own (1/10)
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Willow/Angelus, Willow/Tara, Willow/Angel (friendship)
Word Count: 1844
Overall Rating/Highlight for Warnings: FRAO/NC-17; **angst/dark themes, character death, drug use, crude language (including sexual swearing) violence, sex**
Setting: Set Post-Season 5 of BtVS/Season 2 of AtS.
Summary: Still struggling with Buffy's death, Willow gets an unexpected visitor that brings a whole new set of problems to Sunnydale.
Betas: the unmistakable
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
A/N: Several years ago, I started a WIP that never went further than the first chapter. This is my attempt to fix that. Enjoy!
Check out my shiny new header made by the marvelous
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
***
Willow had frog fear. She also had spider fear, snake fear, and bug fear. It was the latter reason that was suddenly making her wonder why she had chosen to magically transport herself onto the roof of a mausoleum instead of making her lookout point someplace nicer…like a…tree branch. Trees had birds. Birds ate bugs and spiders. Sure they had their own brand of irritating traits, but if Mother Nature had a competition, and if Willow was one of the judges, birds would win the least-annoying-critter-to-hang-out-with-on-patrol category hands down.
When some unknown thing scuttled past her foot, a small ‘meep’ left Willow’s lips and a shudder zipped down her spine. It really wasn’t the least bit funny that a bug had the ability to draw a more heart-pumping panic response from her than the average vampire did. Perhaps Buffy’s unwavering confidence in the face of things that go bump in the night had rubbed off on her more than she realized…
Buffy…
Buffy had been dead for three weeks now and the hole in their lives had barely shrunk. Sure, they had all been doing their best to deal with it. Willow had even done some fiddling and got the Buffybot up and running so that the demon community wouldn’t start getting suspicious about the lack of a Slayer in town. But that didn’t change the fact that beneath the familiar skin and face of someone Willow had called a best friend was a mess of wires, metal, and circuits. Her experience with Moloch had taught her that you couldn’t love a machine.
“Spot any vamps yet, Will?” Xander asked, peering up at her from the ground below. The darkness and shadows made his facial expressions hard to see, but she could swear she spotted his lips crinkling into a goofy smile. It was reassuring to see something so genuine looking, even though he was fighting through the same dense fog she was. It made things feel a bit more normal.
For the most part, anyways. Although Buffy's memory didn't leave her the forefront of her mind, Willow was able to refocus her energies and reassess the situation to avoid letting the rest of her friends get killed. Turning her head ninety degrees, she spotted a shock of gelled blond hair and a shaggy brown mop heading towards them at alarming speed. From the other side of the woods, Willow saw another vampire, bald and chubby, lumbering towards them.
“Xander, Anya. Go around the Van Galen tomb. Vampire coming towards you from the left.”
Both Xander and Anya noticeably flinched at her telepathic instructions and Anya flashed her a glare as they moved off to their designated location. It was a magical ability that she had recently developed after her successes with getting Buffy out of a catatonic state and restoring Tara’s obliterated mind. The problem was that no one else cared for it. They didn’t see it's usefulness the same way Willow did. They didn’t understand that she wasn’t trying to invade their minds and discover all their secrets. It didn’t matter how many times she tried to explain that it was just an effective method of keeping them safe and maintaining the art of surprise in their attacks. It didn't even matter that Xander had spent enough time teaching her the mythology of Spiderman that she felt confident enough to follow the infamous motto: ‘With great power comes great responsibility' and she had no intentions of botching that up. Because they had chosen her to be their leader, she was dedicated to keeping them all safe, whether they liked her methods or not.
A loud grunt and the harsh snapping of fangs against metal caused Willow to turn back towards Spike who had successfully pinned the brunette vampire he’d been chasing against the grating of the cemetery’s side fence. Yanking one of the vamp’s arms behind her back, Willow watched as Spike used his other hand to grab the brunette’s pony tail and use it as leverage to slam the woman’s face into the fence. She screamed and snarled, her body writhing spasmodically as she struggled to free herself from Spike’s grip.
“Fuck you,” she cursed, loud enough for the entire cemetery to hear.
“Ta, pet. But I don’t think you could handle this,” Spike replied, releasing his grip on her hair and sticking his hand into his coat pocket. From there, he produced his stainless steel lighter and flipped open the top. Before the woman could abuse the few seconds where only one of Spike’s arms was keeping her in place, Spike brought the lighter to the fringe of the her hair and backed up quickly as the flames enveloped her scalp, bringing on a whole new round of screaming.
Once she exploded into a cloud of dust, Spike leaned back against the fence and a Marlboro appeared between his fingers as if by magic. Vampire speed certainly could produce some pretty spectacular illusions, but Willow wasn’t impressed.
“Spike!” Xander called, his breath catching in his throat and making his voice sound more high-pitched. Willow twisted her neck to the side and spotted Anya getting a piggy-back ride from the other vampire. In the pale moonlight, Willow could see Anya’s face scrunched up from the exertion as she clung to the demon's neck.
“Spike…” Willow admonished; her arms akimbo as she narrowed her eyes and looked down at him.
“I’m going, I’m going.” Spike muttered, shuffling off towards Xander and Anya and using his vampire dexterity to replace his cigarette with a stake that he’d tucked into his worn, black combat boots.
As Spike approached, the fat vampire whipped around, fangs bared and eyes feral. The force with which he moved his body caused Anya to lose her grip and tumble backwards. She hit the grass with a soft thump and laid there for a moment with a dazed expression. Xander glanced over in her direction, concern passing over his face. It was quickly replaced with relief when Anya nodded her reassurance that she was okay.
“I can kill this one,” a perky voice said, as the Buffybot emerged from behind a gravestone. “I’m the Slayer. We kill vampires for breakfast.”
The robot then delivered a side kick to the vampire’s gut, which momentarily disoriented him enough for Spike to slam the stake home and send the ashes scattering into the wind.
“Job well done, guys,” Willow said, closing her eyes and muttering the brief Latin phrase that would finally get her away from the tiny critters that gave her the heebie-jeebies. Next time she did this, there was definitely going to be an insect removal spell. Just call her Willow Rosenberg, magical exterminator extraordinaire.
“Why didn’t Giles and Tara have to come?” Anya said, wincing slightly as she got back on her feet. “I mean, I work twice as hard as they do. Shouldn’t I get a break?”
“Tara’s watching Dawn,” Willow replied, coming to her girlfriend’s defense. “And Giles is…”
To be honest, she didn’t really know what Giles was doing. Usually, he was out fighting the good fight with them, but tonight he’d asked for a reprieve without elaborating on his reasoning. Willow had been perfectly okay giving him a break though. His absence hadn’t hurt their success rate too much.
“Drinking a cuppa tea and wanking off to old Hepburn films,” Spike offered, seductively flicking his tongue over his bottom lip and thrusting his hips forward.
Willow couldn’t even bring herself to utter a single ‘eww’. Exhaustion was setting in and she was anxious to get home and see Tara. Patrols always felt so much longer and harder when Tara wasn’t around to be her mega-witch back-up.
As they reached Revello Drive, Willow gave Xander and Anya a little wave and she headed off with the Buffybot towards the front door of the house. She stuck her key into the lock and turned the knob, immediately struck by the intoxicating smell of freshly grated Parmesan and the bubbling sound of boiling pasta. She loved it when Tara had dinner waiting for her. It was something she’d never gotten from her parents, they had never really cared about the art of a home cooked meal, so it was nice getting it elsewhere. “Tara?”
Before she could hear Tara’s response, the Buffybot interrupted: “There’s a note for you, Willow.”
Willow’s gaze followed the direction the robot’s finger was pointing and saw that there was a small white card sitting on the wooden pedestal table that was located right where the staircase intersected the living room. Joyce had always been proud of that piece of furniture as apparently it had been given to her by her great-grandmother.
Willow could see her name on the card, written in elegant calligraphy, each letter swooping just so. She would have liked to believe that Tara had been studying the art of writing as a hobby, but the memories unearthed by the vaguely familiar scrawl made her feel anxious and edgy.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
“Tara?” She called again, feeling more desperate and more fearful. “Dawn?”
The card slipped from her fingers, fluttering to the floor, message still unread. Without waiting to hear the robot’s protest about her littering, Willow raced up the stairs as fast as she could. When she reached the landing, she exhaled sharply and looked straight ahead. The door to their bedroom was closed and only what seemed to be candlelight flickered from underneath.
“Tara?”
Terrified, she pushed open the door and felt her breath leave her with a sudden whoosh. There were rose petals scattered everywhere and in the middle of the bed she saw…
“Oh God…Tara...”
The still form lying in the queen sized bed didn’t move, didn't turn her blonde head towards Willow to offer a greeting and a smile. Numbness instantly took hold of Willow’s arms and legs, making her feel paralyzed. She didn’t have the strength to move closer, didn’t have the strength to see if it was really…
Suddenly the girl’s head twitched, a sign that random nerves were still firing signals to the brain, evidence that the girl couldn’t have been dead for very long. The sharp, jolting movement caused the girl’s head to finally roll towards Willow. Willow’s jaw dropped in a silent scream as she realized the victim in her bed wasn’t Tara. She didn’t know whether or not she could breathe a sigh of relief. But then Willow decided that it was too soon to feel happy. It didn’t matter who she was. She was never going to wake up again.
This was, by far, the most sadistic joke anyone had ever played on her…and that included finding her dead fish strung up like her mother’s favorite pearl necklace.
“Do you like your present, Willow?”
A haunting yet familiar male voice pierced through her fear and grief and Willow looked up just in time to see Angelus stepping out of the shadows, wearing tight leather pants and an awful smirk that sent ice cold shivers down her spine.
“I heard this was your type now.”
no subject
on 2010-10-18 12:15 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you are writing this again!
I loved it frist time around and I love this even more now!
Your style improved and I'm looking forward to read more about this.
I'm curious to know where are Tara and Dawn, and how Spike, and Xander will react to Angelus' return.
no subject
on 2010-10-18 12:44 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-18 04:00 pm (UTC)RYL
no subject
on 2010-10-18 04:58 pm (UTC)That's what I'm here to do. :)
no subject
on 2010-10-18 04:40 pm (UTC)Gabrielle
no subject
on 2010-10-18 04:58 pm (UTC)I can't tell you how much your guidance and encouragement means to me!
no subject
on 2010-10-18 05:57 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-19 01:39 am (UTC)What do you think?
no subject
on 2010-10-21 06:34 am (UTC)>.< Such choices!!
no subject
on 2010-10-21 11:07 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-18 06:52 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-19 01:40 am (UTC)PS. In the original, Tara was the one Willow found dead.
no subject
on 2010-10-19 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-19 08:50 pm (UTC)I definitely like the way it went better.
no subject
on 2010-10-20 01:57 pm (UTC)Talk about intense! Holy crap.
I very much look forward to this story - very, VERY intriguing!
no subject
on 2010-10-20 02:04 pm (UTC)Still trying to decide it I want to do the biweekly approach or the once a week approach though.
no subject
on 2010-10-20 02:12 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-20 02:15 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-20 02:28 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-23 08:22 pm (UTC)The set up of the body was so chilling and then for it not to be Tara... Very well done. Can't wait for more of this.
no subject
on 2010-10-24 07:42 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-25 11:51 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-25 11:56 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-10-26 07:07 am (UTC)Aw, poor Willow, trying to keep everything and everyone together. Oh noes. Exccccited for more :D
no subject
on 2010-10-26 11:31 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-11-09 04:45 am (UTC)Gave me a bit of a scare there what with wondering if that was Tara and all. And why the heck isn't the house uninvited so Angelus couldn't get in? I know, they all think he's all Angely now in LA, but still.
“I heard this was your type now.” Nicely creepy. Does this mean Dawn and Tara can still be saved? *crosses fingers*
no subject
on 2010-11-09 12:36 pm (UTC)And yes, I aimed for creepy so I'm glad that it worked. :P