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Disclaimers: All characters belong to Joss and the cardboard aliens. I am a simple peon, please don't sue me. I'm really not at all worth the effort.

Canon coupleness in this fic! Totally PG, if not G. Contains spoilers for "Where the Wild Things Are"- and yes I know that was a long time ago, but whatever. I didn't realize I'd finished this...

Feedback can go to ressick@yahoo.com if you're so inclined. Archiving: Gary if he wants it. Anyone else has to ask, okay?

*****

"Her or Me?"

by Ressick

...

She looked like a kicked puppy- hurt and confused and maybe a little betrayed. I don't know what it was, why I said what I did, but I said it, and it hung in the air, biting, almost angry, disgusted.

"Don't touch me. That's disgusting." The words rang, deafening, in my ears. I admit, the vibes in the house were definitely a negative magic. It wasn't really me talking.

Rationalization may do wonders for the conscience, but it doesn't do squat for the other person involved. I went back to her, and she was more worried than upset. I could see the hurt in her eyes. And it killed me. She smiled, put on a brave face because of the situation, but I knew. I knew that it hurt her. I knew that she was confused. I knew that she was hurt even though she'd let me touch her like I had so many times before- a gentle brief hand on her arm, that slid down to entwine the tips of our fingers before letting go.

We put aside everything- her touch, my reaction, the awkwardness- so that we could free Buffy and Riley from the frat house. Our magic combined to summon the poltergeists, and I could feel it flow through me, electric like that first time in the laundry room. Despite everything, she didn't hold back. She still trusted me enough to let me channel our powers together. She let me be in control. Goddess.

How do you apologize for something like what I did? It wasn't me, I know. She knows that too. But still, something in one of us reacted to a simple touch and was magnified to make me lash out against her. Hurt her.

After we had rescued them, after we'd taken back the frat house and quelled the spirits, we all headed back to our dorms. She walked me home, like always. She worries, I know. She fears that some demon will come after me again, like it did during Jonathan's spell. The walk was silent, awkward. With the danger out of the way once more, we didn't know how to act. Her discomfort at Giles' house made me shrink away from her. "You know, sexual thoughts," she said, refused to elaborate, buried her head in a book. Question, though. Was she talking about her or me?

Finis