Title: "Bittersweet Me"

R.E.M. Title Series

X-over with West Wing

Pairing: Willow/Will. 

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine.  Willow is Whedon's and Will belongs to the amazing Sorkin.

Distribution: Please, take it. Just let me know.

Rating: PG

Spoilers:  Current for TWW.  Post season six for Buffy.

A/N: I'm doing a series of Willow stories based on titles of R.E.M. songs.  The stories will be 1 part each, and won't fit together.  They will all be x-over's with some different shows. Many will be in the Sorkin universe (West Wing, Sports Night) but I'll do other shows too (Smallville, Six Feet Under.)  If you have any shows/pairings you'd like to see me do, tell me.  I'd love to have suggestions.

 

 

    Will Bailey shuffled into the bar and sat down heavily.  It had been a long, and not particularly pleasant day, and Will was hoping to get significantly drunk in order to forget about it.  He ordered a shot of vodka and downed it.  He gasped a little as the alcohol hit his throat. It wasn't like he hadn't done shots before, but it wasn't his normal routine by any means. He was generally more of a beer type of guy; he could nurse a bottle for hours, and be perfectly content.  But tonight was different.  Tonight he wanted to get smashed.

 

    So, when a pretty, slight redheaded woman entered the bar and sat beside him, looking as depressed as he felt, he was compelled to offer to buy her a drink.  After all, to torture a cliché, misery loves company.

 

    Having already done a couple of shots, and beginning to feel a little tipsy, Will leaned over toward the beautiful young woman seated next to him.  "Hi, I'm Will.  Let me buy you a drink."

 

    "I'm Will too," the girl answered. "Well, Willow actually." Normally Willow wouldn't accept an offer for a stranger in a bar.  But then again, under normal circumstances, Willow didn't go into bars. And, hell, she could certainly use a friendly face; even if was just for a little while in a bar.  "Thanks for the offer.  I'll have a shot of whiskey."

 

    After the bartender had set their drinks down in front of them, Will turned to his new companion.  "So, what are you escaping from?"

 

    Willow raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

 

    Will smiled a little, "Well, it's just you look exactly the way I feel.  I assume you're doing the same thing I am: escaping."

 

    Willow glared at him, "Hey, just because you buy me a drink doesn't mean you get to ask me questions like that.  You don't know anything about me."

 

    "Fine, fine."  Will waved his hands in surrender, "I was only asking.  Sorry if I offended you."  He turned back to his drink, and quickly gulped it down.

 

    "My life," Willow finally said, after several minutes of silence.

 

    "I'm sorry?"  Will asked, turning back to face her.

 

    "I'm escaping from my life.  I'm supposed to be on a plane to California right now.  D.C. was just a layover on my was home from London."  Willow didn't even look at him while she explained.  She just stared at the shot glass sitting in front of her.  After studying it a moment longer she emptied it, and motioned for the bartender to pour her another.

 

    "What's wrong with your life?"  Will asked, risking prying further.

 

    Willow sighed, "I was in London recovering.  I had an addiction problem.  I went to London to straighten out.  My friends are back in California.  I hurt them a lot.  I'm not sure if they'll accept me back.  I'm not sure if they should.  I'm not even sure I care if they do.  We've been growing apart the last few years.  I'm not the same Willow Rosenberg I used to be, I'm not sure I want to be.  I have responsibilities in Sunnydale.  I should go home, do the right thing. But instead I'm sitting in Washington, D.C. in a bar.  And part of me thinks that maybe that isn't so bad."

 

    "Maybe it's not,” Will said.  "If you're not ready to go back, you shouldn't.  If these people are really your friends, things will work out.  People change, and if you don't want to go back to your old life, then don't.  You have to be who you are, or you'll be miserable.

 

       Willow nodded.  She knew this was something she would have to think about.  "So, how about you.  What are you escaping from?"

 

    "Well,” Will explained, "My problems seen a little smaller, now that I've heard yours.  My problem is my job.  I just got hired to replace a guy that everybody loved.  As a matter of fact, everyone who was under me quit, because they were pissed that I got the job.

 

   “My boss may respect my work, but I don't think he really respects my opinions.  I had writer's block today, which doesn't really work when you're a speechwriter.  I'm new, so I don't have any friends at the office I can turn to.  I have to prove myself, and I failed miserably at it today.  I got shouted at by pretty much everyone possible.

   

   “I love my job, and it's a huge step up.  I'm working for some of the people I respect most in the world, but part of me wishes I was back in California, because at my old job I wasn't the new guy.  I had the respect of the people who worked for me.  I'm scared as hell that I'm going to disappoint the people I'm trying so hard to impress."

 

     It took a large amount of effort on Willow's part not to smile. "Wow.  You really need to relax.  I mean you seem stressed out.  But you don't seem all that unhappy.  If you love what you're doing, then screw those people who quit. There has to be a reason you were given the job instead of them.  A few bad days are unavoidable, and if you love what you do, then it's worth it.  You just need to relax."

 

    "Yeah, I really do." Will agreed, rubbing his temples.

 

    "This probably isn't the smartest way to do it, ya know."

 

    "Yeah.  Not the best thing for you, either."

 

    "I have an idea."  Willow leaned over closer to Will and kissed him gently on the lips.

 

    Will was shocked to say the least, but after a second or two he returned her kiss.  Then his brain caught up with him, and he pulled away.  "This probably isn't very smart. We're drunk and we're strangers.”

 

    "Not completely.  We know things about each other’s feelings that no one else knows.  That should count for something."

 

    Will thought about this for a moment.  Then he grabbed a napkin and scribbled his phone number on it.  "Here," he said, handing it to Willow. "This is my phone number.  I'm assuming you won't be heading back to California right away.  So, if you are still interested when you're sober, you can call me.  Now I'm going to get you a cab."

 

    Willow couldn't help but smile, as she sat in the cab on the way to her hotel.  Will was one amazing guy.  Not only was he cute, but he was a gentleman as well.  He wouldn't take advantage of her current state, even though he was drunk too.  She wasn't sure about Sunnydale, but it seemed as if Washington had at least one friendly face she could turn too; a friendly face she definitely wanted to get to know better.