parts 1-3

Author: Lucinda
may contain violence, mild sexuality and strong language. Mention of a past tense lesbian relationship.
Pairing: Willow/Oliver Wood, mention of Willow/Tara
Disclaimer: I own nobody that you recognize. 'Yoda' the song belongs to Weird Al Yankovic; Yoda the character and all other Star Wars references belongs to George Lucas of Star Wars & Henson creatures/animatronics. Oliver Wood & Hogwarts belong to JK Rowling.
Distribution: Bite Me, WWW, NHA, WLS, yourmission... anyone else that wants it, please ask.
Note: Set somewhat AU season 6, and after Oliver has graduated.
Note: For those who are wondering about Willow going from Tara to Oliver a) Willow dated Oz before Tara and had a crush on Xander, so there is a well established precedent for her 'liking' guys. AND it isn't like Willow sees Oliver & jumps right into bed with him.



Willow was sitting on the beach, watching the waves under the moonlight. She was alone, Buffy and Xander and the rest had gone to the Magic Box to talk about... something. She wasn't supposed to come with them, they didn't trust her around the magical supplies. Just because she had dealt so badly with everything for a while, and after Tara had died... They thought that she had become addicted to magic, to the power that it gave her. Thy had decided to deal with that by keeping her away from magical things, by taking away all of the herbs and powders and spell books that they could find in her apartment and burning them. The fact that that was stealing hadn't slowed them down at all. The only person that she could even consider near a friend right now was Spike. It was a sad fact that they had bonded while things had been happening, over their torments that the objects of their desires had been rejecting them. Tara had been ignoring her, angered over her heavier use of magic. Buffy had been ignoring Spike, at least, ignoring and insulting him in public, but having intensely naughty sex with him when they were alone. Willow had been stunned when Spike had admitted that, somewhere near drunk after his fourth bottle of whiskey.

She hadn't wanted to believe that Buffy could be so... cruel and deceptive. If she hated and despised Spike the way she said when people were around, then she shouldn't be having... doing those things with him. If they were lovers, why did she hide him, hide their relationship? When had Buffy become the sort of person to use someone like that? Had Buffy always been like that and they had simply missed it?

She'd been hiding her real supplies at Spike's for a while. She'd suspected that there might be problems because of Tara's words, her hints that Willow was becoming to dependant on magic. That Tara's whispers of 'why doesn't Willow cast spells with me instead of alone?' and 'why does she keep looking for magical solutions to these troubles?' The simple facts were that so many of the things showing up lately were things that they didn't have the technology or money to fight without magic. None of them had twelve thousand dollars to by the equipment to generate a strong enough electrical field to kill the N'Toqua, so she had used magic. If there had been a technological way to stop the pack of Chapulla-what's-it demons, they hadn't had time to find it. And sometimes spells with Tara just didn't work, like every demon detection spell they had tried to cast together. She had begun to suspect that there was something wrong, so she'd asked Spike if she could keep some things over at the crypt he was using. In return, she'd invited him into the Rosenberg house, even giving him a key to use. He was as much family as her parents were, having gradually become like... like a sometimes obnoxious older cousin.

She sat on a log, watching the waves, wondering when things had fallen apart so badly that the whispers of her now dead ex-girlfriend carried more weight than her years of help and friendship. Was there anything in Sunnydale left for her? Anything keeping her here besides Spike, and all her fears of what might 'accidentally' happen if she left him here alone?

The one thing that she had agreed with Tara on was the fact that she needed to learn how to control her powers. She'd been fumbling along, learning as much as she could from books, and occasionally painful trial and error. She'd hoped that Tara could help her learn...

Feeling wistful and alone, Willow started to sing, a fragment of a song that she remembered hearing at Xander's, back in happier times.


I met him in a swamp down in Dagoba
Where it bubbles all the time like a giant carbonated soda
S O D A, soda

I saw the little runt sitting there on a log
I asked him his name and in a raspy voice he said "Yoda"
Y O D A, Yoda
Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda

Well, I've been around, but I ain't never seen
A guy who looks like a Muppet, but he's wrinkled and green
Oh, my Yoda
Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda

Well, I'm not dumb, but I can't understand
How he can lift me in the air just by raising his hand
Oh, my Yoda
Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda


If only Miss Calendar hadn't been killed! Surely she could have helped Willow learn. Willow sighed, knowing that she couldn't change the past. She couldn't bring back Miss Calendar, wasn't certain that she would even dare try, not considering what had happened with Buffy. But, Miss Calendar had known what she was doing, had been in seemingly perfect control of her power. Was it so wrong for Willow to want someone to help her gain similar control?

It was so frustrating to know that there were better, safer ways to do things, and not know those ways. To not even have somewhere to look to find those ways. She wanted to learn; to control her abilities before something terrible happened because of her lack of training.


Well, I left home just a week before
And I've never ever been a Jedi before
But Obi Wan, he set me straight, of course
He said, "Go to Yoda and he'll show you the Force"

Well I'm not the kind that would argue with Ben
So it looks like I'm gonna start all over again
With my Yoda
Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda

Yoda
Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda

So I used the Force
I picked up a box
I lifted some rocks
While I stood on my head
Well, I won't forget what Yoda said

He said, "Luke, stay away from the darker side
And if you start to go astray, let the Force be your guide"
Oh, my Yoda
Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda


Well, magic wasn't like the Force. This wasn't Star Wars, and she most assuredly wasn't Luke Skywalker. Concentrating on her desired goal and believing wasn't enough to get things done right. She obviously couldn't learn entirely from books, especially since she had no way to know which ones were real, and which ones were filled with New Age flummery. She knew that she had magical ability, she'd accomplished spells, and even the ones that had gone wrong had shown that she really could work magic.

But she knew that it wasn't safe to keep fumbling around with magic. There could be serious problems as a result, even bigger than her disastrous Will-Be-Done spell had caused, considering that they'd managed to reverse all the effects, leaving no more than memories. They'd held that against her for so long, far longer than Xander's attempted love spell for Cordelia in high school, or Buffy's running away, or Parker...

Her 'friends' hadn't been particularly supportive. She had been angry for a while, but Spike had helped her figure out that there really wasn't any point in staying angry. Her anger was only taking energy that she could be making better use of, and it wasn't changing anything anyhow.


"I know Darth Vader's really got you annoyed
But remember, if you kill him, then you'll be unemployed"
Oh, my Yoda
Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda

Well, I heard my friends really got in a mess
So I'm gonna have to leave Yoda, I guess
But I know that I'll be coming back some day
I'll be playing this part 'till I'm old and gray


"Am I interrupting?" The voice was male, a rich deep voice that rolled over her, an accent entirely unlike Giles or Spike rolling over her.

Willow jumped with an undignified squeak, falling off of the log and looking at the stranger with wide eyes, trying to catch her wits in case he was dangerous. He looked human, with short dark hair and dressed in slacks and a red and gold striped sweater. His face was somewhat square, and had the sort of features that made you want to trust him. Willow was cautious; in Sunnydale all to often, things that looked trustworthy weren't.

He was trying not to smile at her, eventually just sort of speaking though a smile. "I didn't mean to startle you. I was just wondering what a pretty girl like you is doing sitting her all alone at night."

Maybe his accent was Scottish? He was about six feet tall, with strong muscled shoulders and square hands, one of which he'd extended to help her to her feet. She gave him a shaky smile as he lifted her up, holding her steady as she stepped over the log. "Umm... thanks. I should have been paying a bit more attention to my surroundings. I'm Willow."

"Oliver Wood. I'm not from around here, which you could probably tell. Actually, I got a bit lost. Would you mind helping me find..." He paused to pull a crumpled bit of paper from his pocket, squinting slightly to read by the moonlight. " Pine Ridge Hotel?"

Willow smiled at him, mentally considering the chances that he was actually some sort of demon with a clever hunting ruse to fool helpful people into becoming dinner, or maybe even some sort of dangerous human. " I know where that is. So, Oliver Wood, why don't you tell me a bit about yourself? Where are you from, what brings you to Sunnydale, that sort of thing?"

"Well, I'm from just north of England, right across the Scottish border. I'm taking a bit of a traveling holiday since I graduated. Supposedly, it's to help me settle down and figure out what I want from life before going to college or getting a real job. I wanted to travel a bit, see some of the places that I'm not likely to go later. I just happened to end up out here." His voice was pleasant, soothing to listen to.

Willow could only shake her head in amusement. Of all the places in the whole world, he had happened to end up in Sunnydale? "I can show you where Pine Ridge is, although there's not a whole lot to do in Sunnydale."

He had still seemed pretty nice, not to mention quite attractive when she'd managed to help him find his hotel. As far as she could tell, he seemed human, which meant there was a good chance that he was actually the nice guy he seemed to be. She was certainly hoping that he lived through his visit to Sunnydale.

End part 1.



Willow hadn't been able to get Oliver Wood out of her thoughts. He'd been cute and polite and he'd had that interesting accent... There was probably not much chance of anything happening, considering that he was just visiting, but it couldn't hurt to dream a little, could it? So, she'd spent the last few days having little daydreams about herself and Oliver Wood, dreams where he thought that she was pretty, and they would go for walks in the park, and at the beach, and then he would lean in and kiss her, soft and tender, as if he wasn't certain she'd let him but had to try anyhow...

Willow stretched, glad that for once there was no menacing demon to force her to look through old books full of pictures of nasty demons. She'd finished all of her schoolwork, so she actually had the evening free. Willow considered her options: stay home and play on the computer, stay home and try to find something interesting on television, drop in on Spike and play poker, go to the Bronze... There really wasn't very much to do in Sunnydale. Staying at home alone was not very appealing, considering how much her friends had been ignoring her recently. So, it sounded like it was to the Bronze with her.

There was a bit of a line to get in, which meant that either nobody else had anything better to do, or there was a decent band for once. Inside, the club was crowded, and the music was actually good as opposed to just loud. She had the feeling that most likely, nobody would notice her specifically, but that was all right, she could deal with being alone in a crowd tonight. She had just gotten so tired of being alone in the house of her parents...

Willow danced for a bit, not exactly with anyone, but sort of moving to the music among the crowd of people, unafraid of looking awkward. With so many people, many of whom were trying to dance, it would be hard not to look a bit awkward, so she had nothing to fear. After a few songs, she made her way to the bar and bought herself a hot chocolate. The new song was one she didn't think she could dance to anyhow, at least, not alone. If she had someone to dance with... but she didn't.

She managed to find a less crowded spot to drink her chocolate in, and as she leaned against the column, sipping her near scalding drink, she looked over the crowd, curious if there was anyone that she knew.

She felt as if her blood had turned to ice when she spotted Buffy. The Slayer was chatting with some guy, his back to Willow. Willow was to far away to hear the words, but she recognized Buffy's 'charming and sweet' smile, a sure sign that she was flirting with the man in front of her. He had broad shoulders, and short brown hair, and she could see that he was standing straight, and his gestures were minimal. Was it because of the crowds, or did he just not gesture very much? Why was Buffy trying to pick up some guy when she had Spike? She felt a pang of something like sympathy and outrage on Spike's behalf. Did he really mean so little to Buffy?

The man turned slightly, and Willow caught a glimpse of his face. It was Oliver Wood, the guy from the beach. Surely he would be smitten by Buffy's blonde prettiness and self-confidence, after all, every other guy was. Willow sighed, feeling a stab of something, jealousy? envy? go through her, wishing that for once, the cute guy was interested in red hair and green eyes, instead of a hazel eyed blonde. She glanced away, not wanting to watch Buffy any longer, knowing how much this would hurt Spike if he were to know.

It couldn't have been more than a few minutes later when she felt a gentle touch on her arm, an obvious attempt to bring her attention from contemplating Buffy's predatory social habits and double standard while staring into her cocoa. It was accompanied by an accented voice speaking to her. "Willow? I'm going to ask you for a rather big favor, considering that we only bumped into each other a few nights ago..."

She smiled, her eyes lighting up. "Oliver! How can I help?"

He had a slight grin when he spoke, although his eyes were quite serious. "Save me from the carnivorous blonde over there. I'm half afraid that I wouldn't survive the night if she managed to sink her hooks into me. Not quite literally, but I think she's not quite my type."

It was all Willow could do not to laugh. He wanted her to save him from Buffy? "Sure. Although I think the idea of someone wanting me to save them from Buffy is entirely new... Normally, it's more like 'Introduce me' than help, hide me."

"Thanks." With that one simple word, Oliver won himself a tiny corner of Willow's heart, a shining moment of memory that would last until the end of Willow's days. Unaware of this, he pulled her out to the dance floor, his hands sliding over her arms, one coming to rest on her back, just above the small of her back, the warmth of his hand sensitizing her skin.

They danced for what seemed like either a few wonderful moments or almost forever, smiling into each other’s eyes. Neither one of them noticed the increasingly irate blonde who couldn't quite believe that some cute guy was ignoring her in order to dance with Willow. Buffy thought she'd found her moment when Spike sauntered in, delighted in having a way to break the moment, to have a chance to snag the interesting guy with the yummy accent.

"Spike?" Buffy smiled at him, looking up through half lowered lashes, attempting to remind him of their most private moments. "I'm a bit worried about Willow. She's been dancing with some guy and hasn't even said hello..."

He looked at her, his head slightly tilted as he studied her. "Let me guess...” The words poured forth slowly, like chilled honey. "You want me to go make sure Red's alright and the guy hasn't tried anything?"

"Could you please?" Buffy trailed her fingers up the front of his shirt, the gesture looking almost tender, except that her eyes were empty, cold of passion or feeling.

In that moment, Spike realized in the inner most parts of his being that he was nothing to her, not a person, no more than a walking, talking tool to use as she saw fit until he broke, shattered by her abuses. How had he let himself come to this point? "I'll.... have a word with Red."

Part of his insides felt as cold as ice, frozen with the shock of just how far he'd allowed himself to fall, how blindly he'd offered whatever t took for the least crumb of... something. Another part was burning with a red-hot anger, furious that she had played with him like that, that he was nothing to her, no more than a tool, a thing to use for sex or killing things. He had almost forgotten the whole reason why he hadn't ripped her limb from limb, bathing in her blood as he danced over her lifeless... a searing jolt of pain felt as if it was shattering his head, causing his vision to fade into red shapes on red-black pain, and he stumbled, bumping into some random dancer. He regained his balance, duly reminded why he hadn't killed any humans lately. Waiting a few moments for his vision to be useable again, he scanned the crowd for Willow. Finally spotting her, he began to slide through the crowd, drawing near enough to whisper into her ear.

"Evening Red. How about we collect your new pal over there and bail on this place? The... Fluffy's about to blow her stack over there." His words were spoken just loud enough for her to hear, showing nothing more than a hint of tension.

Willow twisted slightly, looking at him, searching his face for clues, noting the tensing of the muscles between his brows, and the new flaring of red veins threading across his left eye, a sure sign that his chip had jolted him severely. She reached over, taking Oliver's hand in hers, and nodded, her words to soft for mortal ears to catch. 'Yeah, leaving Buffy sounds pretty good.'

Oliver didn't protest as Willow lead him through the crowd, slipping out the back door, Spike close behind them. The sudden quiet seemed to almost ripple around them, feeling oddly spacious after the interior of the Bronze. It also felt a bit cold for a few moments, as their bodies adjusted back from the crowded heat of the club.

Glancing at Oliver, Willow offered an explanation. "Buffy, the blond you wanted me to save you from? She seems to have decided that I shouldn't be dancing with you, so we're leaving the club before she freaks out and causes a scene."

Turning her words over in his mind, Oliver shot a slightly confused look at Spike, and a small grin at Willow. "You don't appear to be objecting to my company. While I'm not sure about your... friend over there, I can't say the thought of being here with you seems like a problem."

"Oh, right, introductions. Sorry." Willow glanced at the two, a somewhat sheepish expression on her face. "Oliver Wood, this is my friend Spike. Spike, this is Oliver Wood, he's sort of traveling and ended up in Sunnydale."

Glancing at Spike, Oliver extended a hand, looking as if he was measuring Spike against some sort of internal standard. "Interesting to meet you."

Spike nodded, giving Oliver's hand a firm handshake, privately wondering how interested this person was in Willow. "Yeah, interesting. Might want to be careful here in Sunny-Hell."

"I thought Willow said there wasn't a lot to do in town."

"Depends on your definition of fun, mate. Regardless, there's a lot of funny accidents around here, might want to be careful."

Each absorbed in their thoughts, they meandered, eventually ending up in one of the parks, pausing to admire the moon, nearly full and with two clearly distinct rings circling it. Spike was trying to figure out what he could do to fix his life, to escape from the chains of obsession that had bound him to Buffy, how to survive once she realized he wasn't her tame lackey anymore. Willow was trying to enjoy the moment, to enjoy the feeling of walking with a cute guy. Oliver was simply delighting in Willow's company, and a bit of him wondering if this Spike would be upset at him for spending time with Willow.

End part 2.


Their pleasant walk seemed so peaceful, so soothing. Unfortunately, it couldn't last. Not in Sunnydale, home of the Hellmouth.

There was a slight rustling in the bushes, nothing louder than what would be caused by a mild breeze, if there had been one. Almost at the same time, a figure stepped out in front of them, a lean man of average height, dressed in unremarkable clothing. His expression was hostile, and there was something cold and inhuman about it. "Well, what have we here? A few helpless college brats out past curfew..."

"What does he mean 'we'? And exactly what does he intend to do to us?" Oliver spoke softly, leaning towards Willow. He had the feeling that this might have something to do with Sunnydale being dangerous, with the 'accidents' her friend Spike had mentioned. It wasn't a feeling that inspired comfort.

"I think he's planning on him and his friends in the bushes killing us." Willow's voice was oddly calm for someone mentioning a potential impending attack.

Just as Oliver was about to ask 'what friends', four more figures emerged from the shrubberies, their bodies the right size and shape to be human, and their clothing seemed fairly normal, but their faces... Jagged sharp teeth stained with hints of dark reddish brown, and sunken yellow eyes under prominent brows... For a moment, Oliver's mind went blank, struggling to understand what he was seeing, and then he suddenly understood. He'd had seven years of instruction in Defense Against the Dark Arts, which was supposed to prepare him for dealing with things like this, for vampires. He felt quite under-prepared, and actually a bit afraid. The newly revealed vampires had formed a semi circle around them, effectively making escape almost impossible.

"Right, just the sort of thing I need to get a little stress and hostility out of the way...” Spike actually looked pleased to see the vampires.

Then the vampires attacked, and Oliver was to busy trying not to become dinner to worry about why Willow was so calm, or why Spike was looking forward to this. He felt sharp claws rip through his shirt, leaving lines of fire over his arms and back. He gestured, muttering curses to bind and slow, trying to stay alive long enough to find something to kill them with.

Gradually, things got a bit less intense, and then suddenly, there were no more vampires attacking him. His body aching and head throbbing as if he'd just been in an intense hour long game of Quidditch, Oliver looked around, seeing Willow standing beside him, her sleeve torn, and her lip swollen and spilt, but otherwise alright. Beyond her, Spike was engaged in a fistfight with a single remaining vampire, and it looked as if he was beating the vampire senseless, growling about 'not being some toy' and 'not a bloody minion' and something about a slayer.

"Oliver? Are you... oh, your eye! Can you still see clearly? Are your ears ringing?"

Willow was gently touching beside his right eye, which felt as if it was pulsing, sending ripples of pain through him. He was more aware now of his numerous injuries, and a part of his mind was still trying to determine what had happened to all the vampires.

"Where did they all go?" Part of Oliver wondered why he'd even asked; after all, he didn't want them to come back. However, he didn't want them sneaking up on him again either.

Willow gave a quick glance, pausing slightly on the sight of Spike pummeling the single remaining attacker. "Well, there's still that idiot, but I don't think we need to worry about him. The rest are umm... do you see the little piles of gray dust? Twigs can do so much..."

"You knew there were vampires around here. Why didn't you say something?" If he hadn't spent years dodging bludgers and blocking goals, he could have been killed. If not for his magic, he almost certainly would have been anyhow.

Looking at him, Willow gave a small sigh. "Would you have believed me?"

Oliver felt something brush over his arm, touching one of the shallow slashes left by the claws. Glancing over, he saw Spike putting his finger into his mouth, the tip smeared with blood from the still bleeding cut. Oliver felt as if the world was spinning around him.

"He just tasted... what was that about! Your friend's a vampire!" Feeling his heart hammering again, Oliver stepped away from Spike, tying to understand what was going on.

Spike looked at him, a near blissful smile on his face, still looking human. "Yeah, I'm a vampire, Red knows that. And you're human. Not something a person can take for granted here."

Willow noticed Oliver's confusion and tugged him over to one of the benches, where they both sat down. "Yes, Spike's a vampire, he has been for as long as I've known him."

"That was what, Junior year for you? Parent teacher conference or something?" Spike's voice carried across the space, proving that he could easily hear Willow's voice.

Willow rolled her eyes slightly as she nodded. "Yes, I met him during my junior year, although we didn't actually say anything to each other during the conferences. But umm... things in Sunnydale can be complicated. The short short version is that yes, Spike's a vampire, but he's not going to hurt me, or you. He helps make sure the scary things that come out at night don't eat me. Sunnydale's over something called a HellMouth, which means that dangerous things just sort of... show up here."

"So, this place has a Hellmouth, and that draws evil things. That I can follow. But I'm still not getting why your friends with him." The questions were thick in Oliver's voice.

"Well, I'm sort of... sort of a witch, so why should I get picky if Spike's a bit different? I mean, it's not like he's trying to kill me, or anyone else right now, so..." Willow gave a small shrug, her words trailing off.

Oliver looked at her, questions bubbling in his mind. "But... you don't have a wand. What school did you go to?"

"Why would I need a wand? And... school? Are there actually schools for magic? I mean, what do they do, classes in potion making and how to tell if your best friend has been possessed by a hyena?"

"All witches and wizards use wands. There are several different schools for magic, I went to Hogwarts. They cover all sorts of things, potion making, transformations, proper cultivation of magical plants... and flying on broomsticks."

"Flying? On brooms? No... are you trying to tease me?" Willow looked as if she wasn't quite certain she believed him.

"Why wouldn't you already know this if you're a witch?" Oliver's voice had taken on a tone of puzzlement.

"Well, I only found out the sort of things that do scary stuff in the night were real my sophomore year... I was about fifteen. Learning that magic was real came a bit later, and then I sort of got volunteered to help with a potion on account of... well, Catherine Madison. Then there was the whole Miss Calendar thing, and Angelus... umm, I sort of never had a real teacher? But I can do things." Willow was feeling a bit defensive, and slightly hurt. There were schools that taught magic, and she had been fumbling around in confusion.

"You left out the Will Be Done spell. Don't know how you could forget that one..." Spike's voice was a teasing yank that pulled her from the fog of her thoughts.

"Everyone else wanted to forget that one... Why bring it up? Why can't you just repress like my mom did with the whole Hansel and Gretel MOO thing?" Willow glared at Spike, hating it when people threw that into her face. She really hadn't meant to make Giles go blind, or Spike kiss Buffy...

Spike simply smirked at her, and produced a cigarette from his pocket. Holding it towards her, he asked, "Can I get a light?"

"You can be such... such a guy sometimes, Spike." Shaking her head slightly, Willow decided to try something new, something she'd been practicing with her candles. She focused her attention on the end of Spike's cigarette, and thought of fire. A heartbeat later, there was a puff of yellow fire, and his cigarette was lit.

For a moment, there was only stunned silence in the park. "Thanks, Red." Spike's soft murmur seemed to be the signal to allow sound to return.

"Alright, you're a witch." Oliver's voice held no more doubt, but there was plenty of amazement. "Maybe... we can meet somewhere tomorrow and talk about a few things?"

For a moment, Willow couldn't speak past the knot of surprise and relief in her throat, and there was a slight blurring of her vision. "Yeah, I think I'd like that. There's a coffee place in town, the Espresso Pump? We could meet there at... umm, how about ten?"

Oliver nodded, smiling at her before walking away, probably headed back to his hotel room. "That sounds good. I'll meet you tomorrow then?"

End part 3.