Title: What are We Doing?
Author: Jinni (druscilla@cox.net)
Rated: PG13
Pairing: W/Methos
Genre: BtVS/Highlander Crossover.
Disclaimer: All copyrights remain firmly in the tight grasps of their
copyright holders. I do not own these characters, only the contrivance known
as a plot.
Distribution: WLS, WLF, NHA, BMP, Aislin, TTH, TQC. No one else.
Author’s Note: TQC Response: http://quickie.moonlitpaths.com
<http://quickie.moonlitpaths.com/>
Note2: For Sophia_Ken’s birthday.
Note3: Sequel to "Demons We Share"

~*~

Willow rolled over in bed, her arm encountering something altogether too
warm and too flesh-like to be just another pillow or sheet. She cracked her
eyes open with some difficulty, attributing the flashing pain in her head to
the inordinate amount of alcohol she had drank the night before, and looked
at her bed partner. She remembered him now, the man at the bar. The one with
the soulful dark eyes that seemed to be just like her own. He had seen both
hard and dark times, it was written plainly in the lines of his face, the
little creases of worry. They hadn’t spoken much the night before, in the
bar; only enough to know that, in each other, they found kindred souls.

She sighed, turning back over so that she could slide out of the bed. He was
still asleep and she wanted to leave it that way for a little while. They
had come back to this room, his hotel, and had slept together. Not sex. Just
sleep. She was still in her bra and underwear, a matching set she was glad
to have worn now in light of all that had happened. And he was still in his
boxers, she assumed.

The bathroom tile was cold beneath her feet, and she hurriedly stepped on
the mat next to the shower so that she wouldn’t have to feel the biting
chill longer than necessary. She reached into the shower stall, turning the
water on. First hot, then cold. Just a little cold. She needed to warm up
this morning, to get rid of the chill in her soul – if that was even
possible. It had been too long since she felt warm inside, though last
night, sleeping in Adam’s arms, had been close. The closest she had gotten
since Tara’s death, for that matter.

A part of her felt guilty for that, as she stripped down and stepped under
the warm spray of water. She shut her eyes, letting the stinging drops pelt
her face as the steam permeated her lungs, warming her up inside as well as
out. What was it that she had thought she was doing, coming here with a man
she just met, falling asleep in his arms as if she had known him all her
life? How smart was that? Suicidal she may be at times, but her pride kept
her from acting on it. How had last night been any different than actually
taking her own life? She had walked out of that bar with someone she didn’t
know, someone who could just have easily killed her? And why? Because it
‘felt right’.

She snorted, leaning against the side of the shower, the water still beating
down, leaving pink marks on her skin. What did ‘feeling right’ have to do
with anything in her life? Her and Tara had ‘felt right’, too. And they had
broken up before getting back together, only to have Fate deal them a bad
hand when Tara was killed. Did ‘feeling right’ really account for anything
in this world? It didn’t mean a damn thing in the end. Certainly not enough
to make her think anything was ‘meant to be’. The only thing that was
certain in life was death; she had come to find out.

So what to do about the man currently sleeping in the next room? He had
seemed to very nice when they first met. He had listened to her spill her
soul, even if it was in a very sheltered, halting way; and then he had done
the same. When they came back to his hotel room it was to talk some more;
and had only ended with them falling asleep in each other’s arms.

She had not violated Tara’s memory. She had not slept with him in the carnal
way. And she didn’t know if she could ever bring herself to, even if it was
what her body wanted. He was handsome, so there was no problem there. She
had never fully stopped enjoying male flesh – so that wasn’t a problem,
either.

But he wasn’t Tara. He wasn’t her soul mate.

And that was the crux of the matter. What was she doing getting involved
with him in any way when she would never, ever be able to commit to him? He
had mentioned only that he wanted her friendship, someone to understand him
the way he needed to be understood. Yet he had said relatively little about
himself.

Sighing, she reached down and twisted the knobs on the shower, watching as
the water slowed to a trickle before turning off entirely. She stepped out
of the stall, toweling herself dry before her underwear and bra back on. The
rest of her clothes were next to the side of the bed she had slept on. She
supposed she would need to go back out there now. She wasn’t really in the
mood to deal with him yet, though.

When she left the bathroom it became immediately apparent that ‘dealing with
him’ wasn’t going to be something she could put off. He was sitting up,
jeans already on though his shirt was nowhere in sight, leaning forward,
with his head in his hands, elbows propped up on his knees.

"Um – hi," she murmured, blushing when she became all too aware that he was
looking at her only in her underwear and bra.

"Good morning." His smile was warm, if not a little hesitant. He had just
the faintest edge of accent to his voice and it rolled through her ears like
the most pleasant of music from the greatest of orchestras.

"Morning," she echoed, taking a seat next to him on the bed and pulling the
blanket up around herself. She looked at him through a thin veil of red
hair, discreetly relearning his features.

"So –"

"Yeah." She laughed over their silence. They had spent the night in each
others’ arms and now couldn’t even have half a conversation?

"Last night was nice."

Willow looked up at last, her eyes meeting his. "All we did was sleep,
though."

Adam smiled. "Yeah. That was the nice part."

"What are we doing?" She voiced, clapping a hand over her mouth as she
realized the error of what she had just said. Sure, it needed to be asked,
but not then, perhaps not even like that.

"We are . . . becoming friends."

"Good friends?" She prompted with a quirk of her eyebrows. "Because, believe
me, I’ve never slept half-naked with any of my ‘friends’ before."

"I’d like us to be good friends, yes."

She paused, meeting his eyes evenly. "I can’t guarantee that I’ll ever want
to be more than friends, Adam."

That wasn’t his name, she remembered that much from their conversations the
night before. He had another name, one as old as time, but he did not use it
in day to day conversation and, to tell the truth, she didn’t want to know
it. Not because she didn’t want that type of trust to happen between them,
but because she didn’t want to be responsible for knowing something so
serious. Names held power – and a name that old held a lot of that power.

"Friends is enough." And there is truth in his eyes when they meet hers. "I
like just having someone that I can talk to."

And, the truth was, that Willow felt the same way, though she hadn’t known
it until he spoke the words aloud. It had been something special to be able
to tell him, in brief and cloudy detail, of her own sins the night before.

"Me too," she whispered.

"So – are we still on about the traveling? Come with me? I’ll show you the
world."

Willow laughed, almost feeling it deep in her heart. What else was there for
her in this world? He understood her. To hear him talk he had lived just
about as evil a life as she had. He knew what it was like to feel that pit
of darkness within one’s soul and still feel the need to get up in the
morning and try to go on with things.

She licked her lips, smiling shyly at the handsome stranger she was so
willing to go along with; abandoning herself to his care without a look
back.

"Sure."

~*~The End~*~