thewiggins

I wrote a Willow/Fred fic! You can read it on AO3 or below the cut.

Rating: Teen
Summary: Willow and Fred bond over science, magic, and Cordelia’s bad acting.

Writen for

punchkicker_15 as part of Round 150 of Femslash Minis.
Many, many thanks to

thenewbuzwuzz for betaing!

She was running alone through the dark woods. Branches scraped against her face, which already sported a bloody gash just above her eyes. The girl was doomed, anyone could see that.

After maybe thirty seconds of the running and sobbing, she came to a cabin in a cramped and sinister-looking clearing. The girl took a moment to soak in the creepy ambiance of its filthy windows and general air of neglect. And yet for some reason, she still approached the door.

“Don’t go in there,” Fred called out, her voice a little louder than she expected, “can’t you see that your chances of coming out alive are nearly infinitesimal?”

Willow snorted and took a big bite of popcorn from the tub they’d bought together before the first film in had started.

Fred, surprised at how full the tub still was, grabbed a handful herself and leaned back, shifting in her seat as she tried to find a more comfortable position. Which wasn’t as easy as it sounded given that the seats, with their faded red upholstery and weird combination of lumpy stuffing and creaky springs, probably hadn’t been replaced since the theater opened some 80 years ago. Still, Fred liked the place. It had a similar kind of ostentatious yet worn down charm as the hotel.

Apparently, Willow had happened to see the flyer for this double feature while on her bi-monthly hunt for extra-rare magical ingredients in downtown LA. And to Fred’s surprise and pleasure, she’d then decided to invite her along.

On-screen, Cordelia’s character was ignoring Fred’s advice. And what was the name they’d given her anyway? Amanda? Stephanie? Something too ordinary to suit her.

It was funny seeing her like this.

She was currently trying a bit too hard to portray deathly terror. Her eyes, a little too wide, glanced behind her shoulder as her hands, smeared with a particularly lurid shade of fake blood, fumbled with the doorknob. Finally, she got it to turn and the door opened with the expected sinister groan.

“H-hello?” She called out. “Is anyone in here?"

Willow laughed.

“H-hello?” She said, in a perfect imitation the unconvincing tremor in Cordelia’s voice. “Mr. Slasher Guy? Are you here? I’m ready to do my death scene.”

Willow and Fred both burst into giggles and Willow bent over, grabbing the bottle of cran-apple juice from beside her seat. Well, to be precise, the mix of one part juice to two parts vodka.

The booze had been Willow’s idea.

“I-I don’t know,” Fred had said at the time, “sneaking alcohol into the theater? That can’t be allowed. ... Can it?”

“Fair point. Counterpoint: Cordy’s acting. Have you seen her act in anything?”

“No. I’ve heard her sing… There’s room for improvement.”

Willow had laughed.

“Well, her acting’s worse. God, she somehow got the lead in our 9th-grade school play. Romeo and Juliet, of course. I’ve never seen a more unconvincing doomed love affair in my life. And I’ve watched an entire marathon’s worth of Passions with Spike and Xander, back during that little while when they were basement roommates. That was a weird afternoon. But, trust me. We’ll need this.”

Now, Willow took a long swallow from the bottle and passed it to Fred. Fred lifted it to take a sip only to stop, looking at it in surprise.

“Willow!”

“Mmm?”

“The bottle’s full!”

“Uh-huh.”

“But we must have drunk at least a few hundred milliliters between us!”

“At least! Don’t worry,” Willow said, grinning and taking a handful of popcorn from the almost overflowing tub, “it’s just a little trick I picked up.”

“Oh, magic. But… What about the law of conservation of mass?” Fred gave the bottle a thorough examination. Yep, completely full. “Of course, the structure of the bottle must be porous on a molecular level, so maybe if your magic were to pull matter from the surrounding area... Or maybe even from another universe, as I believe the Ekpyrotic model of the multiverse might suggest! Of course, as someone who’s actually traveled to another universe, I’m not entirely certain that the theory is compatible with everything I’ve learned. But, I think there’s some interesting possibility there for explaining how seemingly spontaneous matter creation might be possible.

Only... the amount of energy required would be enormous. I couldn’t even begin to calculate…”

Willow was smiling, amused.

Fred stopped abruptly, suddenly self-conscious. She was doing it again, that thing that usually resulted in blank stares or looks of barely concealed boredom.

“...And I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“Maybe a little. But I really like a good nerdy ramble now and then. Besides… It’s actually nice not being the only geek in the room. Although, I wouldn’t necessarily to try to use science to calculate magic. Believe me, that road leads to headache city. But I’d be curious to know more about your thoughts on the multiverse.”

“Oh, well I’ve been working through a sort of updated thesis on interdimensional travel. It’s kinda rough, but… I could show it to you if you’re interested.”

Willow’s smile was warm and genuine, glowing in the dim light of the theater.

“I’d like that.”

Back on screen, Cordelia’s character (Samantha? Brittany?) had wandered through a couple of creepily deserted rooms and was now at the top of a staircase which opened like a mouth into darkness. She pulled the string attached to the single bulb above her head, which flickered for a second but refused to light.

“What, too cheap to pay the electricity bill?” She said in a sardonic mutter. For the first time, Fred found her performance completely convincing.

Luckily, an oil lamp was sitting on an end table by the door. Tiffany or Jessica or whatever her name was lit it with trembling fingers. The light shone off her wide eyes and glossy, trembling lips. And when she got to the bottom of the stairs, it shone on an impressive collection of sharp metal implements along the far wall. She screamed with terror and dropped the lamp, which broke and smoldered on the floor.

Fred giggled.

“What?” Willow whispered.

“Oh, nothing. I’ve just never seen the real Cordy this helpless. She’s not very good at faking it either.”

Willow snorted.

"No, definitely not! She went through a phase in high school where she thought the best way to get guys was to pretend to be this wilting daisy. It was actually kind of hilarious. She kept forgetting to be helpless and reverting to bossing them around.”

By now the camera had cut to the perspective of the Masked Murderer, who was moving through the house with surprising stealth for someone so big. Sarah or … Jennifer! – right, that was her character’s name – Jennifer was standing frozen in front of the implements of death and didn’t notice the murder until one of the steps creaked under his weight. She spun around, but it was too late. He grabbed a wickedly curved sickle off the wall and brought it down on her neck in one brutal stroke. Almost neon-bright blood spurted in a massive arc towards the camera, and Jennifer fell somewhat unconvincingly to the ground, visibly throwing out an arm to support her fall.

A close-up on her now glassy-eyed face served as the movie’s only farewell to her sadly two-dimensional character.

“Bye-bye, Jennifer,” Fred said softly, feeling just a touch of sadness as she leaned back in her seat and took another sip of the vodka mixture.

———

With Cordelia gone, the movie lost some of its charm. The slasher killed all the promiscuous teenagers except for the one virtuous girl who got to survive till the finale. It might almost have been boring. Except it wasn't, 'cause Willow was there, making snarky comments all the way through.

“This was fun!” Willow said, turning to Fred as the heroine’s traumatized face faded, replaced by sinister thrumming music over the red and black credits. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Yeah! I mean, I had a good time. I haven’t been to the movies since that Charlton Heston double feature with Angel. That was fun too. Except that I thought it was a date and it turned out… Not to be a date.” She twisted a Redvine between her fingers. “Oh! But don’t worry. I-I know this isn’t a date either. It’s just two friends, going out to movies to make fun of a third friend... Should I feel bad about that?”

Willow laughed.

“Oh, Cordy can handle herself, believe me. Besides, she teased me enough in elementary through high school that I'm pretty sure I have the right to make fun of her now and then. But as far as the date thing… You know, I was kinda hoping it was.”

Fred’s heart jittered in her chest.

“R-really?”

“Oh, very really."

“In that case, do you think we might have reached the point of the date where it would be nice to, well, kiss?”

Willow grinned, leaning in. And when their lips met Fred felt as if she and Willow had been transported somewhere outside of regular time and space. Fred’s awareness of her surroundings faded and even the thrumming music seemed to have been put on mute.

The next thing she knew an usher was shining a flashlight at them and telling them to get a room.

Willow giggled as the usher left, smoothing mussed hair.

“I guess maybe we did get a little PDA-y there at the end.”

“Yeah. B-but… Do you think we should? Get a room I mean. I do have one back at the hotel… and you should just forget I said anything. I know you probably wouldn’t want... but sometimes if you never say anything then you never know. And then you regret not saying anything and not knowing and so it’s better to go ahead and say what you want, even if…”

Willow cut off her nervous babbling by leaning in and kissing her again, more gently this time. They pulled apart before the usher could come back with his flashlight.

"You know, I think I really would want. And hey, maybe while we’re at it you could show me your thesis."

Sexier words, Fred thought, had never been spoken.

Note:
For this story punchkicker_15's requests were: Cordelia playing a role in at a least one of the movies, giggling, and booze.