Lesbosian Mistake

It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled, water pelting from the sky in tiny, needle-like droplets, and lightning crashed in a spectacular lightshow overhead. It was said to be the storm of the century, and had seemed to center for the moment on a small town in southern California, and this is where our story takes place… or not. Perhaps there was no storm, and perhaps it was actually day in a town known for its usually sunny weather. We do begin our tale there, at the least, found within the confines of the public academic institution’s library, at a table stacked with books, and the redheaded wiccan-hacker that sat there.

Willow glanced back at the closed door to the office, where Giles was currently mumbling over one of his private collection. The most esoteric and dangerous of his books he rarely, if ever, let any of them lay hand on, and had taken the responsibility of organization of those on himself. This was all meant to aid in ease of research the next time a big bad came through town, especially with the shipment of tomes to add to his collection sent by a friend somewhere in… Bali she thought. The organization, while time-consuming and somewhat tedious, seemed to be going quite well, even with Buffy and Xander not arriving until much later. The two would probably mostly end up as a distraction as it was, so she didn’t mind too much. At least this gave her the opportunity to browse through the occasional book of magic and leaf through a few spells, adding information, if not experience, to her repertoire.

Smiling as she reached for the next book, one of the smaller ones, she noted the worn leather cover was lacking in any distinguishing marks, including a title. That, of course, meant that she had to look inside to see where it was filed. In all likelihood it was just another of the watcher journals that Giles liked to collect; it certainly wasn’t as big as some of the other codexes and tomes she’d been shuffling about. Leaning back, she cracked open the book to a few pages in, attempting to get a feel for what had been written and where it would be placed in the scheme of their little collection. Just a few entries in Willow had realized that, though it was a journal, it hadn’t been written by the hand of one of the stuffy watchers. Apparently it was the accounts and random notes of a male witch.

She didn’t read it page to page, of course, catching an entry here and there as she quickly gained interest in the information that had been gathered there. It seemed that the man had been traveling the Mediterranean and parts of Europe for research for his coven, gathering techniques, connections, and spells from the various locations. Some of the information Willow avidly and quickly memorized in hopes of researching such things further and possibly implementing the tips. When she had flipped forward several pages, skimming mostly, and found a spell from somewhere around the areas of either Greece or Italy, her gaze turned to the beginning of that entry. The translation was easy enough to make out, though he’d claimed its inscription on oddly preserved animal hide had been worn at best. The spell had been faulty, according to the witch, and supposedly painful to attempt, and he could only guess that it had either been translated wrong in his efforts, which he assumed highly unlikely, or merely a poorly crafted spell. Smirking, Willow glanced over the spell itself, reading through the words to determine what it was supposed to be for, and where he could have possibly messed up.

Her lips stopped, the mumble beneath her breath that had started, unbeknownst to her, as she began reading the spell dying away quickly, and the journal snapped closed as she spun to face Giles. The man had exited his office, speaking her name and startling her out of her skin. She hadn’t even any clue how long she’d sat glancing through the book, and knew well that he didn’t particularly like her nosing into the magic books he had there. To her relief, he hadn’t even looked up from the pages in his hands. “…I was wondering if you’d be quite willing to fetch some food for us? We’ve been at this for a good few hours, and I believe that Buffy threatened physical violence if I let us forget to eat again.”

“Right!” Willow jumped up quickly, attempting to hide the guilty look on her face. Giles finally looked up, noting the blush. “Yeah. Um… I’ll go get something.” Moving quickly toward the doors, Willow tried to calm down. Giles watched her go, a little confused by her behavior, but he understood these American teenagers little, and decided not to ask. For all he knew, it could be some problem involving a boy.

The redhead moved down the school hallway, starting to get her breathing back to normal, her cheeks still flushed from having been almost-caught reading the witch’s journal. She knew that Giles wouldn’t really do anything to her if he found out, but as a well-behaved good-girl, the threat of being caught and getting a lecture seemed just as frightening. Her squeak and jump at someone else popping up behind her made the flush return full force to her cheeks. “Willow, what’re you doing here on a Saturday?” The girl spun to stare at Ms. Calendar in surprise. “I thought you’d be out having fun with Buffy and Xander.”

“Me? No. I’m… uh… I was…” Willow’s eyes widened and she tried to take a deep breath, so that she would stop panic-babbling. Panic-babble was worse than Willow’s usual babble, and it was just Ms. Calendar, not Giles come to inquire what was wrong or accuse her. “I was helping Mr. Giles in the library. Organizing. Organizing of the books… Um… and not scanning them. Definitely no scanning them.”

“It’s alright Willow, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Ms. Calendar smiled gently and tried to suppress a soft chuckle. “Just you and Rupert today?”

Willow took another breath in attempt to further calm down, offering a small smile. “Er… Xander and Buffy are supposed to show up later. But… well… they’re not so good with the bookwork when it comes to this. Buffy will probably just end up training, and Xander will take a nap.” Her smile broadened in affection for her two friends. “I’m getting some lunch for Mr. Giles and myself…”

“Care for a ride?” Ms. Calendar smiled and jingled her keys invitingly. “And I can help with the organizing and not-scanning of the books afterward?”

“Thanks, Ms. Calendar.” Willow smiled brightly, trying to ignore the fact that the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach wasn’t going away.

TBC