Close to the Chest

Title: Close to the Chest
Chapter 3: Glamorous
Rating: PG-13?
Warnings: Femslash.
Summary: Willow’s feeling a little too glamorous. Can Buffy help her find herself again?

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Buffy forcefully pushed Warren off of her and into the wall.

“Buffy, what the hell?” Warren questioned, scandalized.

“Just tell me what you did and maybe I won’t hit you,” Buffy commanded, slipping seamlessly into Slayer mode. “Actually, I probably will, but you could always try.”

“Buffy, what are you talking about?” asked Warren confusedly.

“Wrong answer.” She pulled back her fist and swung, only narrowly missing Warren’s head as he ducked.

“Okay Buffy, this is definitely not cool,” Warren insisted in a slightly bitchy tone. “I mean, maybe a little force here and there if we’re comfortable with it, but I definitely do not want to play vampire vs. Slayer in the bedroom.”

“I’d still like to know how the hell you got into my bedroom,” Buffy replied acidly. “What did you do with her?”

“Buffy, you’re not making any sense,” Warren tried to point out, necessitating that he dodge another punch. “Why are you swinging at me?” he shouted.

“Oh I don’t know,” said Buffy in mock-concentration, “maybe because you’re murdering scumbag who honestly deserves to be flayed alive.”

“What?” Warren looked both hurt and confused by Buffy’s words. “Buffy,” he said softly, “that’s definitely not okay.”

“And I should care, why?” the Slayer asked with dry sarcasm.

“Buffy, if you’re gonna insist on this domination thing, we might really need to rethink this. Or at least we need to talk about what’s okay before we start. And did I miss the part where we picked a safe word?” Warren’s demeanor spoke levels of frustration. “Buffy,” he tried to remain calm, though it looked like his eyes were starting to water. “What you just said was really and truly hurtful.”

“Do you think we’re playing some kind of game here?” said Buffy in disgust. “The only reason I’m not beating the life out of you is that I need information. Where’s Willow?”

“What?” asked Warren, completely dumbfounded. “Buffy, I’m right here.” A look of comprehension crossed his face. “Oh God, you can’t see me. Am I invisible?”

“Huh?” said Buffy, looking on in confusion.

“Oh thank God you weren’t talking to me,” said Warren. “I mean I know I shouldn’t be relieved about my new invisibility, but I’m just so glad you weren’t saying those things to me. And oh my God, that means there’s a murdering scumbag in the room. Why don’t I see him? Oh wait. Buffy doesn’t see me. Can you hear me Buffy?” Warren was now pacing a short distance back and forth in place, gesturing emphatically with his hands as he spoke and reminding Buffy of… “You can’t see me and I can’t see the threatening guy, or demon, or whatever it is. I think this definitely has to be a magic thing. Why would I need to be out of the way? Buffy, I really hope you can hear me. You need to slay this thing, whatever it is. You don’t need to be swapping witty banter with it or standing there looking – looking…” A second wave of comprehension began to spread across Warren’s face.

“Willow?” Buffy asked quietly, beginning to suspect what was happening.

“Yes,” Warren sighed in relief. “Buffy, I’m here. Oh, I’m so glad you can hear me. Listen, I think I’m invisible. Maybe Jonathan and what’s-his-name came back into town or something. We should get Xander to check all the places nerds hang out.”

“Oh God, Willow.” Buffy pulled Warren/Willow close to her with a hug.

“Or maybe I’m not invisible,” s/he said flatly. “Buffy, where did the demon go? Is it still here? I should try to trace the energy signature of the spell it was using to hide me.”

“Oh Willow, I’m so sorry,” Buffy said softly, both sorry for her actions and for the witch’s predicament, to which she still seemed to be oblivious. “I can’t believe I almost slayed you.”

“Slew,” Willow corrected automatically. “Wait a minute – me?”

“I’m sorry,” the Slayer repeated. “Willow something – something happened to you.” Keeping one arm around Warren/Willow’s shoulder, she steered her/him to face the mirror. “Can you – can you see it?” Judging by the horror-struck look on Warren’s reflected face, Willow was indeed able to see Warren in the mirror.

“Oh God,” said Willow in Warren’s most distressed voice. Warren’s head looked down toward his body. “I see me when I look at myself,” Willow commented. “I-it’s a glamour. But how did it get there?”

“It’s not,” Buffy swallowed as she spoke. “You don’t think it’s maybe – something you did to yourself. Like when we couldn’t see each other.”

“I should’ve thought of that sooner,” Willow exclaimed, clapping a hand to Warren’s forehead. “I mean when I thought I was invisible,” s/he clarified. “I don’t know why my mind went straight to the nerd herd. Oh God, I hope it’s not a side effect of looking like Warren.” Watching Willow’s range of emotions cross Warren’s face was one of the strangest things Buffy had seen in a long time. “But I’m like ninety percent sure I didn’t do this.”

“Okay,” said Buffy, “so we need to figure out how it happened and how to reverse it.”

“Glamour absum,” Willow tried, waving a hand over Warren’s face. “Damn,” s/he said, still seeing Warren’s reflection. “That means it’s a conditional glamour. Could be a set length of time, or until the spell caster removes it, or I’ve gotta do something first. And Buffy?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m about to freak out,” said Warren’s voice, reminding Buffy of the man’s last cry for help before Willow had killed him.

“I’ve got you,” Buffy assured her friend. ‘It’s Willow,’ she reminded herself mentally as she wrapped both arms around the body of the man who had turned Willow into a killer.

“Oh God,” Buffy heard Warren say in her ear as Willow leaned onto her shoulder. The Slayer held her friend close, unsure of what to say or do, but feeling the strong need for action. She could feel warm tears through her pajama shirt where Warren’s face was pressed against her shoulder. The sobbing seemed most out of place. Buffy seldom, if ever, had to deal with crying men and the fact that it was her best friend in there made it twice as disconcerting. Part of her wanted to break down and cry as well, but she knew she should be strong for Willow right now.

“I’m here for you, Will,” said Buffy soothingly. “Whatever you need me to do, just say it.”

Willow pulled back and looked the Slayer in the face.

“Buffy, this isn’t your problem to solve,” s/he told Buffy bluntly.

“I just mean that if you need anything – I wanna help you with this.”

“I wanna do this myself,” s/he replied.

“I-” Buffy paused and thought a moment, not wanting to start an argument. “Okay,” she conceded quietly. “I just don’t want you to be alone.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Buffy,” Willow insisted.

“I’m not saying that you do,” the Slayer pointed out. “Can’t I just keep you company?”

“I-” Willow opened Warren’s mouth to respond.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Buffy cut her off.

“I’m blaming this on your boyfriends,” said Willow, rolling Warren’s eyes.

“It doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” said Buffy shortly.

“Well, it’s not always a good thing either,” Warren/Willow countered.

They stared at each other for a moment. Both of them were trying not to get angry, but frustration was definitely running high.

“Will, I won’t do anything if you don’t ask me to,” the Slayer vowed. “I just wanna be by your side. Even if it does look a lot like Warren’s side,” she added. “I love you, Willow.”

“Just get dressed,” said Warren impatiently, noting that the Slayer was still in her pajamas.

“Okay.” Buffy walked over to her dresser, trying not to let on that Willow had just hurt her feelings by not returning her ‘I love you’ proclamation. She hastily grabbed the clothes she needed and then crossed to her bedroom door, headed for the bathroom.

“Buffy,” Willow/Warren called softly to the Slayer as she walked down the hall. Willow/Warren stepped out into the hall and watched Buffy’s retreating back.

“Yeah, Will?” Buffy asked, stopping without turning.

“I love you too,” s/he said quietly. Buffy turned and smiled brightly. “I-I probably should’ve said that part first.”

“You’re stressed,” replied Buffy sympathetically, placing a hand on Warren’s shoulder. “It’s okay. But you’ll figure it out; I believe in you.”

“Thanks,” said Willow as Warren smiled gratefully.

“Let me go do the whole morning ritual thing and we’ll head out, okay?”

“Yeah.”

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“Campus Wiccans,” Willow/Warren explained to Buffy as they walked across the U.C. Sunnydale campus. “They might be able to help us figure this out.”

“Weren’t they just all Zen and bake sales?” Buffy asked, quickening her stride to keep up with Willow/Warren.

“Well – yes,” s/he admitted grudgingly. “But I’m hoping at least one of them knows something useful.”

“And if they don’t?” Warren shot Buffy a pained look. “Just asking.”

“Let’s try this first and leave after for – after.” The pair stopped in front of the door to a small lecture hall. “We’re here,” s/he announced nervously.

They walked slowly into the building and heard soft chanting.

“Instill us, oh great one, with peace. With strength. With compassion. With hope.” The Wiccans were gathered in a circle, each wearing a glowing crystal around their necks. “The path we seek is yours. Keep us on that path.”

“Okay, whoah,” Willow/Warren said softly. “This is new.”

“Um hi,” said the girl who had been chanting. “We’re-”

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry. Willow,” said the witch, pointing at Warren’s chest. “We actually met when I was a Freshman,” s/he explained. “And also not a boy.” The members of the circle exchanged glances. “This is Buffy,” s/he added, pointing to the blonde.

“Hey,” said Buffy, waving awkwardly.

“You’re Willow?” asked the chant-leader.

“Yeah,” Willow responded. Buffy waited quietly, leaning against the door frame. “Look at you guys. Campus Wiccans. I guess you got past the whole bake sale phase.”

“Uh no,” the chant-leader replied. “We still do that too. Second Tuesday of every month. Um, I’m sorry, I’m kind of having a hard time with the whole guy – event – thing.”

“Um-” another girl spoke up. “It’s actually her. I can tell,” said the girl as she stood. “I know her.”

Buffy raised her eyebrows as she recognized Amy. Willow just stood there, a look of shock painted on Warren’s face.

“Okay,” s/he said after a moment, “whoah.”

“Um, okay. Here’s the thing – hi.”

Buffy widened her eyes and looked down at the floor, feeling that the greeting was definitely lacking.

“Here’s the thing,” Amy continued, “I’ll just get this out of the way. I’m sorta screwed up. But I mean – you already knew that because you lived it. Gotcha.”

“Oh, but she’s doing so much better now,” the chant-leader chimed in. “Amy,” she began softly.

“It’s okay, Vaughne,” Amy assured her. “I wanna do this.” She turned again to face Willow/Warren and Buffy. “It took me a long time to really see myself. But I did. Because you know that's the crazy thing about hitting rock bottom, you get to relive all the crappy things you did.” Both witches shifted awkwardly, thinking of their mistakes. “And I wanted to come find you and tell you that I was here working on things with these guys. And that they're good.” She nodded briefly toward Vaughne. “And that I'm sorry.”

Willow/Warren seemed to be at a loss.

“But you’re here,” Amy pressed on, “looking like – wow. How did this happen?”

“That’s we’re here to find out,” said Buffy.

“I got hit with this, like, glamour thing,” Willow explained, “and I can't seem to shake it myself. I was hoping someone here might be able to help.”

“Yeah,” Amy looked nervous, “see the thing is we're more about healing spirits and nurturing our life force here.”

“Oh…” Willow looked down at the ground, crestfallen.

Amy turned briefly to the group and then back again.

“But we’ll try,” she offered hopefully.

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“Her spirit’s true, its shell a lie…” Amy chanted. She and Willow/Warren were now seated on the floor holding a crystal; the rest of the group watched from the lecture seats. Buffy was on the front row, ready to act if Willow needed her.

“You worried about her?” Vaughne asked Buffy quietly from the seat next to her.

“A little,” Buffy admitted. “But she’s strong, she’ll deal. I’m more worried about Amy actually. D’you think she can handle this?”

“We draw upon your very light,” Amy continued rhythmically.

“Do you have a better idea?” Vaughne questioned flatly.

“...Give back the form the soul requires. See that the balance is put right.”

“Ow,” said Willow, drawing back Warren’s hand as the crystal grew hot.

Buffy was out of her chair in an instant and at Willow’s side in the next, wrapping her arms around Warren’s thin frame.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered soothingly, sensing the witch’s distress.

“It didn’t work?” Amy asked.

“No, it didn’t work, you dumb bitch!” shouted Willow angrily. Warren’s body jerked in Buffy’s arms, but the Slayer only tightened her hold.

“Shh, Willow, it’ll be okay,” Buffy said reassuringly. Amy looked as if she had been stung by the Willow’s words.

“Oh God,” came the words from Warren’s mouth. “Amy, I’m sorry. I just – I just got so angry. It was like it came out of nowhere.”

“It’ll be okay,” Buffy repeated softly.

“Stop saying that!” cried Willow/Warren in frustration. “And let go of me,” s/he added, struggling in Buffy’s arms.

Buffy removed her arms from around Warren, but grasped one of his hands in her own.

“Never,” the Slayer stated, looking directly into Warren’s eyes. A guilt-ridden expression entered Warren’s face as Willow changed rapidly from mood to mood.

“Buffy, I’m so scared,” s/he admitted quietly.

“I know,” Buffy offered gently. “I’m here for you,” she reminded the witch.

Amy was eyeing the pair of them with a strange look on her face.

“You really care about her, don’t you?” she asked Buffy, looking down at the pair’s linked hands and smirking for some reason.

“She’s my best friend,” Buffy answered, not sure if Willow wanted a whole group of near-strangers to know about their relationship. “Yes, I care about her a lot.” She squeezed Warren’s hand in a show of support.

“Willow, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help.” Amy turned her face toward Warren’s. “There’s other stuff, but nothing I’d really be comfortable with.”

“That’s it?” Buffy questioned. “There’s nothing else you can do?”

“Buffy,” Amy turned indulgently to the Slayer again. “Look, she's gonna be fine, really,” Amy said reassuringly. “She's good at this. She's strong. And she's dealt with a lot worse. Long before she started swapping spit with the Slayer.”

Vaughne coughed nervously, knowing this was rapidly becoming a private conversation. Some of the Wiccans had already started filing out of the room through the back door.

“Amy,” Willow/Warren was looking at the dark-haired witch in confusion, “I never said anything about kissing.”

“Really?” Amy questioned, forcing a smile. “No, I think you did. When you were explaining about the glamour.”

“No,” Buffy interrupted, eyes narrowing in suspicion, “she didn’t.”

“Amy,” said Willow/Warren, “how did you know?”

Amy’s eyes shot back and forth between the pair of them for a brief second.

“Oops,” she said with a smirk.

“Amy, what did you do to her?” Buffy demanded forcefully.

“Don’t fret, Slayer,” Amy said sweetly. “Just your standard penance malediction is all.”

“In English,” said Buffy.

“She put a hex on me,” Willow/Warren explained.

“I got that part,” Buffy informed the witches. “But why Warren? And why was it after we kissed?”

“Isn’t it rich?” said Amy with a mischievous grin. “Must’ve been some kiss, huh? You must be good.”

“Answer me or you’ll find out how good I am,” Buffy replied threateningly.

“The hex I cast lets the victim's subconscious pick the form of their punishment,” replied Amy in a dry, bored tone. “It's always better than anything I can come up with. Elegant, you know?”

“Think you’re still gonna feel elegant when I’m kicking your ass?” Buffy asked acidly. “Undo it.”

“Okay,” said Amy, still smiling brightly. “Oh, wait, I forgot – no.”

Amy raised her hand and Buffy and Willow/Warren were blasted backwards by an invisible force, smashing against the lecture seats. The remaining Wiccans exchanged frightened looks as they began scrambling toward the nearest exit.

“Why would you do this to her?” Buffy got to her feet and offered a hand to Willow/Warren, not taking her eyes off of Amy. “We helped you, Amy. We saved you from your psychotic mother, we stood by you when MOO went on the warpath, and let’s not forget that we could’ve just dropped you in a sewer after that rat stunt,” Buffy quipped. “And okay, Willow kinda snubbed you last year, but do you hate her that much?”

“This is not about hate,” Amy said with a sigh. “It's about power. Willow has always had all the power, long before she even knew what to do with it,” Amy ranted. “Just came so easy for her. The rest of us – we had to work twice as hard to be half as good. But no one cares about how hard you work. You all just care about cute, sweet Willow. You don't know how weak she is.” Amy surveyed Willow/Warren with distaste and then her eyes returned to Buffy. “She gave in to evil – stuff worse than I can even imagine – She almost destroyed the world! And yet everyone keeps on loving her?”

“And what? You feel left out?” said Buffy, frowning in exasperation. “Amy, Willow pushed you out because you crossed a line.”

“Buffy, I can speak for myself,” said Willow/Warren, squeezing the Slayer’s hand reassuringly. “Like she said, you crossed a line. You refused to understand what I was going through – what I’m still going through.”

“And here comes the holier-than-thou,” said Amy with a cold laugh. “What’s wrong with taking you down a peg? I’m not the bad guy here. This is just a game for me, precious. It’s not my fault you’re losing yourself,” she finished with a knowing smile.

“Willow,” Buffy whispered in Warren’s ear, hoping Amy would mistake it for more words of comfort. “Can you fight her?”

“I-I don’t know,” Willow answered, struggling to keep Warren’s voice at a low volume. “I don’t think I can do much without…” she trailed off, but Buffy understood. Images of dark hair and veins were brought to mind.

“Then can I please fight her?” Buffy asked.

“What? You mean you’ve been waiting for – yes. Go! Fight!” Willow/Warren gave the Slayer’s hand another squeeze before letting go.

Buffy charged toward Amy, but the witch was ready for her, already suspicious of the whispering. Another invisible wave of energy pushed against the Slayer.

“Come on, Slayer,” Amy taunted. “What’s the matter? Oh you may be good with the hand-to-hand, but you really don’t understand magic, do you?”

Buffy turned to Willow, looking for help and saw Warren’s face light up with an idea.

“Goo-roo-meh, ning-in-meh, noo-gull-gull-ah,” Willow/Warren began chanting. “Goo-roo-meh, ning-in-meh, cheh-meh, -dull -dull -eh.”

“What’s that?” Amy asked nervously, pointing at Willow/Warren.

Buffy recognized the chant and smiled broadly, locking eyes with Amy again. Amy responded by firing a ball of dark-colored energy toward the Slayer. Buffy stood still and unfazed by the magic; Amy’s eyes widened in realization.

“Anti-magic,” Amy announced bitterly. “Effective in the short term,” she admitted. “But all I have to do is stop her chanting.”

“And to do that, you have to get through me,” said Buffy smugly. “What’s the matter?” she challenged. “Too afraid to-” Amy snapped her fingers and vanished. “Damn,” Buffy muttered.

“Hey,” she said, walking back over to Willow/Warren. “You okay, Will?”

“I’ve been better,” s/he answered grumpily, sitting in one of the lecture seats. “We still don’t know how to fix this.”

“We’ll figure it out,” said Buffy with bravado, taking the seat next to her.

“But what if we don’t?” asked Willow with high levels of stress in Warren’s voice. “What if we can’t? Amy’s trying to punish me; we might not be able to reverse this.”

“Then we’ll deal,” Buffy said calmingly.

“We’ll deal?” Willow/Warren questioned in frustration. “Buffy, how are we supposed to deal with this?”

“Willow – I still love you,” said Buffy thoughtfully. “I don’t care if you look like him. You’re still you, right?”

“I – yeah,” Willow answered slowly. “Yes, I’m me,” she said decisively, sounding as if she were trying to convince herself as much as Buffy. Amy’s words were still on both of their minds, ‘It’s not my fault you’re losing yourself.’

“Then I love you,” Buffy stated plainly. “I love you when you’re red-haired and bookworm-y and I even loved you when you were dark-haired and trying to destroy the world. And I love you now even though you look like Warren. You’re Willow and I love you. I would love you even if you looked like Clem.”

“Buffy, you don’t have to say it,” Willow assured the Slayer, “especially that part about Clem. I know that you love me. I love you too.”

“I know I don’t have to say it.” Buffy looked into Warren’s eyes purposefully. “I want to.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips against Warren’s in a tender, but passionate kiss. She grasped Willow’s hand affectionately as their faces pulled apart.

“Oh, thank God that worked,” Buffy sighed in relief and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

“It – it’s me?” Willow touched her face disbelievingly. “Oh Buffy, I love you.” The redhead planted kisses all over the Slayer’s face in a show of gratitude. “I-it felt like he was taking over. I didn’t know what I was gonna do. Buffy, if that had gone on much longer, I think it might’ve ended really badly.”

“I wouldn’t have let you do anything you’d regret,” Buffy assured the babbling witch. “And I meant what I said. No matter what you do, I still love you because you’re still my Willow.”

“If I’m your Willow then you have to be my Buffy,” said Willow with a pout.

“Oh, I’m yours,” the Slayer pledged.

“Good. I’m glad we straightened that out.” Willow leaned forward and kissed the Slayer. “Mine,” she said as she pulled back and placed a finger on Buffy’s lower lip.

“Oh yeah?” Buffy grabbed Willow’s face with both hands and kissed back forcefully. “Mine,” she announced.

“Come on,” Willow stood up and began walking toward the door.

“Huh?”

“I wanna take you home and do naughty things to you,” said the witch with a grin.

“Wicked witch,” said Buffy, smiling brightly as she stood too.

“You know I am,” Willow replied. “Wicked witch is gonna take you back to the castle and earn her name.”

Buffy caught up and slipped her hand happily into Willow’s.

“You’d still love me if I turned into Ted, right?” Buffy asked as they walked.

“Would you make me drug-cookies?” asked Willow brightly.

“No. You’re only allowed to have Buffy-cookies.”

“In that case, I’d still love you.”

They walked hand-in-hand out into the noon-day sun.