[identity profile] ubiquirk.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] still_grrr
Title: Girl’s Got a Grudge
Author: ubiquirk
Rating: R
Word Count: 1255
Pairing: Willow/Kennedy
Prompt: 100: The Grudge
AN: Set just after “Time of Your Life,” wherein it seems that Kennedy’s got a reason to be jealous. An NC17 version is posted here, but it’s not up for voting.





Manhattan. They’d just been there, near all those glorious shoe stores on 8th Street and the numerous trendy clothing boutiques in Soho.

So why were they spending part of their ‘weekend away’ at the Hamptons in the mall?

And eating at its food court?

Kennedy’s tray clattered onto a small wooden table as she turned to look for Willow. She’d been near the Tex-Mex place last time Kennedy’d seen her, but no dice.

“I’m a goddamn Slayer with all these supernatural tracking skills, and I can never find my girlfriend,” Kennedy grumbled to herself as she sat.

She tore into her Philly cheese steak, and was half way through the sandwich by the time Willow hurried over, panting slightly.

“Sorry it took me a while.” Willow sat down a tray loaded with various containers covered in color-clashing logos. “I just couldn’t decide, you know? The chow mien looked good, but then I thought about pizza, which they sell by the slice, but I ask you, is that really better than a burrito?”

Instead of answering, Kennedy took a large bite and made a production of chewing.

The Willow-babble continued. “And sushi! I can’t believe we didn’t have sushi while we were in the city, though having to rescue Buffy was a little time consuming. Anyway, I got a bit of everything ‘cause I figured you could help me out with anything left over.”

“Yeah.” Kennedy pushed away her half-eaten lunch, the words twisting in her stomach. “Leftovers.”

~~~

The air in the car hung still and heavy, broken only when one of Willow’s feet shot out to collide with the take-out bag with a crunch. “Ooops, sorry!” She laughed. “That might have been the death of the pizza or maybe the chow mien. And that makes me wonder – what fast food is the most durable? I mean, if you have a big fight in the middle of dinner, what would be the thing you could still eat if you accidentally threw a demon on top of it?”

Kennedy shook her head slightly and tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

“You’d think I’d have a good idea about these things from growing up on a Hellmouth, but no, I’m tapped.” Willow turned in her seat, flashing a grin big enough for Kennedy to see even with peripheral vision. “Wha’d’ya think?”

Kennedy shrugged.

“Hey, what’s up with you, Miss Sourpuss?”

“What? You noticed?” Her voice dripped sarcasm.

“Kennedy.”

Anger, hot and bright, blocked her throat, too many things wanting to spill out now that they had the chance. She pointed at the take-out bag.

“This because I kicked the food? It was a muscle spasm, and I said I was sorry.”

“Not that you kicked the food, kicked the food, but that there was so much food to kick.”

“Huh?”

“This!” Kennedy pointed to the bag. “This is what you’re like now, Willow. You don’t know what you want because you want everything.”

“Whoa there, missy! It was lunch, not a metaphor!”

“What? I’m not a real Scoobie, so I don’t get to use the funny metaphors? What if Buffy had said it? You’d be all ‘ha, ha, ha’ and huggy.”

“Is that what this is about?” Willow’s voice hit the high end of its register. “Buffy hugging me?”

You call it hugging – I call it her nuzzling into your chest for a prolonged period of time and you not stopping her.”

“That? That was just …” Willow’s hand moved through a dismissive arc.

The knot of tightly coiled tension lodged just below Kennedy’s heart snapped painfully free. “You want everything, Willow! And I already compete with enough to be with you.”

“What? What do you mean by that?”

“Tara – your perfect Tara – I’ll never be her. I almost kind of got used to that, but now there’s Buffy, who’s going through her gay phase. And even more than Buffy, there’s that … that demon chick, that Saga Vasuki.”

“But it’s not li–”

Kennedy jerked up her hand in a stopping motion. “Don’t … I … Just don’t. I may not be a big brain who figures things out right away like you, Willow, but I’m not stupid.”

One hard tug of the wheel had the car spinning off the road to come to an abrupt halt.

“Baby?” Willow touched Kennedy’s shoulder, causing her to fight her way out of the seatbelt and out of the car.

“Where are you going?” Willow called. “It’s another fifteen miles to your house.”

Ducking into familiar woods, Kennedy started running, frustration burning through her muscles, making them bunch and release, bunch and release, carrying her ever farther away.

~~~

The run? The run was supposed to burn off the anger.

The run just got her pumped.

In through the kitchen door, up the servant’s stairs, Kennedy kept going, not even breathing particularly hard. The door to her old bedroom slammed open and then shut again. Half a wing away in the larger guest quarters, Willow wouldn’t even hear it.

The shower was stocked – all the rooms were stocked, parents in residence or not – and she leaned forward under the spray, letting the heat of the water wash over her.

Why had she thought bringing Willow to her family’s summer house would fix things? That there’d be enough childhood joy saved up in these walls to make them right again? Instead, when she closed her eyes, all she saw was Willow’s face marked with ecstasy as she ‘talked’ to that demon-bitch.

She punched the water off and threw a towel around her, not caring that her hair dripped onto the floor as she walked into the bedroom. To see Willow sitting on the bed.

“Hey, you,” Willow said as if nothing were wrong.

And that … that was it.

Anger rose to choke her throat again, otherwise she might have growled as she lunged and pulled Willow up off of the mattress, fingers digging into arms even as she bit at Willow’s lips.

When Willow gasped, Kennedy’s tongue pressed forward, sweeping, wanting to wash the taste of any other woman away, so far away.

Cloth ripped under her hands, shredding to reveal pink-white skin that shivered at her touch.

Her towel disappeared, and Kennedy almost stilled, almost gentled to their normal lovemaking when she felt Willow’s arms encircle her. Then Willow moaned in her ear, a breathy little sound.

The same sound she’d made when communicating with Saga Vasuki.

Kennedy jerked away, taking Willow’s skirt with her, and pushed forward again immediately, tackling them both to the floor.

Willow’s hands scrabbled at her shoulders, trying to pull her in for a kiss, but Kennedy’s strength allowed her to easily stay propped up where she could watch the other woman’s face.

Willow writhed beneath her, calling out a string of nonsense syllables.

Panting too hard to speak, Kennedy mouthed, “This is me, Willow, me doing this to you – nobody else.”

Willow’s face contorted below her, mouth gaping in a shocked ‘O’ even as her eyes closed, head rocking back.

The room shattered into a swirl of red hair and white skin and sensation spiraling outwards, sparking across her skin and through her muscles, quivering and taut.

~~~

Tenderness came later, when Kennedy lifted a languid Willow onto the bed, holding her until she fell asleep. Temptation called – to ignore the betrayal, to keep it like this.

Kennedy sat up. Leaning over the other woman, she pressed her lips gently to the corner of Willow’s mouth.

Whispering goodbye into her skin.



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