Zahir
Nether World Anchor
Posts: 534
Registered: Nov 2000 posted May 13, 2001 15:12
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NEVER THE TWAIN? (1/?)
Author: Zahir (zahir@brainlink.com)
Rating: PG13
Couples: W/T (eventually, kinda)
Spoilers: Through the third season.
Notes: This is an Alternate Timeline in which Willow never completed the Soul Restoration Spell on Angelus. From that moment on, things change.
Archiving: Just ask first.
Feedback: Oh, please!
Disclaimer: The toys I'm playing with belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy,who are far too cool to sue me because after all I don't really have anything they'd want I hope and pray please oh please.
***
Tied up and held prisoner by minions of evil, Willow tried to look on the bright side. Actually, this proved easier than expected. For one thing, the chair was comfortable. She'd been kidnapped enough to appreciate this. And the room where she was held was dry, well-lit, and had central air. The Mayor of Sunnydale might be a very, very evil sorceror (or whatever) who had demons on the payroll, but at least he had a nice house. Willow had been in plenty of lairs before, and this was by far the most pleasing.
Of course the vampires watching her hungrily from the door interfered with her appreciation. But she was kinda getting used to them as well. If they hadn't drained her dry in the last hour odds were against them doing it anytime soon.
When the door openned she briefly hoped to see her friends rescue her. But it swung open at far too leisurely a pace. Rescues were never slow. They happened frantically, with speed all-important, depending on the sowing of the confusion and the distracting of the minions. Sure enough, it was the Mayor himself who entered, his chief Lieutenant by his side--a girl barely older than Willow herself. At least she looked little older. Wit
h vampires it was hard to tell.
"Miss Rosenberg!" The Mayor's voice was like the ultimate self-help guru. It matched his smile--warm and friendly, like Mr. Rogers in an armani suit. "I'd like to welcome you to my little abode, but that would be a bit hypcritical, don't you think? Must provide an honest role model!"
"Okay. How about you tell folks how you're really a hundred years old and have been feeding them to demons all this time?" Willow was actually rather proud of this retort. She hadn't delivered it with much venom, of course. In fact, her voice had wavered, even cracked.
Still, the Mayor seemed to appreciate it. He chuckled. Willow found the sound a little disturbing. That the vampire guards looked nervous was even more disturbing, since they presumably knew their boss.
"Clever girl! But then, I expected no less. You know, if I didn't need you to trade for the Box of Abraxas your friends stole, I'd might try and recruit you. Some people have been known to call me a headhunter--and a pretty good one if I say so myself!" Again with the diabolically hearty chuckle.
"I won't be here long."
"Let's hope not." He nodded. "Well, see you later. So many atrocities, so little time and all that." He turned to go, stopping only as he realised his Lieutenant hadn't moved.
"Tara? Aren't you coming?"
"I'd like to stay here for awhile."
The Mayor shrugged. As ever, he seemed both purposeful and cheerful. "As you wish. Just remember our guest is still underage--and we need her intact for the exchange." With that he was gone.
Willow made herself remain still as the blonde vampire approached. Tara--so that was her name. Buffy and the others had taken to calling her Little Miss Cyclops because of the eyepatch. Now at least Willow knew her name. And the exact shade of blue in her remaining eye as it raked over her.
Tara gestured to the minions without turning around. Her fellow vampires obediantly stepped outside the room. Now they were alone. Tara, or Little Miss Cyclops, clearly wanted it that way. Exactly why was the question.
"You're pretty."
"Uh...thank you?" How to respond to a compliment from a vampire.
"Don't be afraid."
"Yeah, well, I'd like not to be--but this whole getting kidnapped and tied up then having a vampire stare at me--not that you don't stare well, 'cause you do--it's all kinda a little bit nerve-wracking. You know?" Conversation. That might be the ticket. Keep her distracted and whatever you do don't mention food or eating or especially drinking.
"Yes. I do know."
"Really?
"Before I was turned, my Sire kidnapped me. He chained me in a cave, fed me, talked to me for hours on end."
"Wow. That's...well...different. I guess. Anybody I know?"
"Yes."
"Oh." Great! With her luck that means Tara's Sire was one of the vampires Buffy had killed. Still, who' s to say that Sire and Childe got along? Maybe this wasn't going to be too bad.
The vampire kissed her. Willow could feel her eyes almost bulge out of their sockets at this unexpected bit of whatever. She fully expected to feel fangs erupt from the blonde girl's mouth as it grazed her own. But no, it was simply a kiss. And on a completely physical level, not an unpleasant one. More than a peck but far less than a passionate liplock. The whole thing lasted an eternal two seconds.
After that, the Vampire Tara turned around and left.
***
Later that same night, Tara hovered outside a seedy motel. This wasn't one of her usual haunts. One reason why happened after she'd been wating nearly half an hour. Some stranger--drunk, most likely--thought he knew what a teenage girl would be doing in this part of town. He decided to take her up on what he assumed she was selling. Tara let him live. For one thing, his blood tasted foul--alcohol, nicotine, fat. And besides, she disliked as a rule killing her prey. It was short-sighted in a host of ways, not the least because it attracted attention.
Her would-be customer soon lay unconcious behind a dumpster, weakened by likely to survive. Tara paid him no more mind. Inside another ten minutes the person she wanted to see came in view...
Slender like a blade. Hair dark as raven's wings. Skin white as pearl. Every syllable of body language conveying what she so clearly was--a hunter. A killer. Not unlike Tara herself.
Faith. A vampire slayer. One of the Chosen.
"Good evening, Slayer." Tara's voice carried just far enough for the dark-haired girl to hear. And to respond by spinning into a defensive stance. "I didn't come here to fight." Tara stepped out of the shadows. letting the Slayer see her. She actually walked further into the light, cutting herself off from any possible backup. Faith, far too battlewise (even at seventeen) not to realise this, hesitated. Besides, she knew who this was--Little Miss Cyclops.
"You wanna die, you just keep coming."
Tara stopped. "Alright. I have a message. Two actually."
"Okay, I'm listening."
"The Mayor has your friend Willow Rosenberg. He intends to kill her unless you and the others return to him what you stole--the Box of Abraxas. What he wants to do is an exchange. The Box for your friend."
Faith continued to hesitate. Tara could almost see the wheels spinning in her mind. Attack now? Or agree? Or go get her allies? Or--yes, she had been paying attention. "You said two messages."
"Yes. The first was what I just told you. From the Mayor. The second is from me."
"Go on."
"You don't have to trade. Personally, I'd prefer it if you didn't. With a little bit of inside knowledge, you should be able to break into the Mayor's mansion and rescue Willow. The Mayor might keep his word and return her. Its even likely. But don't believe for a second he would hesitate to kill her just to be safe. Better if you don't trust to his good will."
Faith had listened to all this very carefully. "I thought you and the Mayor were tight? Best buds and all since Mr. Trick got dusted."
"He pays me. That doesn't mean I like the man. What I want is what's best for me, not whatever plan he has going."
Now all Tara could do was wait. Wait and see how the Slayer responded. They were in something of a standoff, and both knew it. But Tara had deliberately put the decision with Faith. She waited for a full minute. Then another.
"Okay," the dark-haired girl finally replied,"lets hear what you've got planned."
***
By sunset of the next day, Willow was thinking about parallel times. She was a prodigy, even sometimes teaching computer classes in her high school (which should have been illegal but never mind that). So she'd long ago learned about how the universe on a quantum level was in a state of flux, fixed into a specific state by the act of observation. In other words, looking at something determined what it was. Which brought up the intriguing possibility of other observers, i.e. alternate realities existing parallel to our own simply because the observers there perceived things a little differently. In theory, almost any possibility could exist.
Only Willow knew this was more than theory. A magic spell had let her meet an alternate Willow, one native to a Sunnydale wherein no Slayer had ever come. Details remained sketchy, but at least one stood out like a pillar of fire. That Willow had been a vampire--and more than a little interested in her twin. Interested in a sexual way. A very sexual way.
So Willow had been kissed by a vampire before. Another female vampire.
Yet this one's kiss had been different. Little Miss Cyclops--or Tara--hadn't been threatening. She hadn't hinted at rape or feeding or turning Willow into some kind of playmate. She simply kissed her. Then walked away.
I wonder why she walked away? Then Willow asked herself the next obvious question--why am I wondering why she walked away?
These questions distracted her enough she didn't even notice the crashing and banging that was going on outside the room. When the doors burst open, she was genuinely surprised at seeing Buffy and Faith, backed up by Xander and Oz. It even took her a split second to realise the truth--she was being rescued!
***
The vampire named Tara handed the Box to her boss, the Mayor of Sunnydale. His was a genuine smile at receiving it, like a local attorney getting that golfing trophy he'd dreamt-of for years.
"Well, Tara, you certainly deliver! And color me impressed with some highlights of grateful!" This time his chuckle was quieter, somehow more intense. "Did you have to kill anyone to get it?" he asked offhandedly.
"No. The Slayers and their strongest were rescuing their friend. Meanwhile, the others had relaxed, believing we had accepted a trade."
"Hm. I'll a little surprised you didn't take the opportunity to feed."
"I believe in self control."
"Good for you! Yes indeedy--good for you! And that's why I made you my number two after the loss of the lamented Mr. Trick. I think you've got what it takes for what we used to call The Long Haul."
Tara didn't say anything to that. She wasn't the type to talk that much. Besides, she had her own agenda.
"Oh, and Tara?"
"Yes?"
"I've got a little gift for you in the next room. Call it a bonus for service above and beyond." With that the cheerful infernalist took his box and left the room, humming "God Bless America." Tara waited until he'd gone before approaching the door where here Bonus waited. She was by nature cautious, but the fact is she couldn't see any reason to be nervous. Experience told her the Mayor was quite capable of generosity. He was also perfectly willing to destroy anyone or anything in his way. Yet it wasn't his way to be deviously cruel. If this was a trap, the style was not that of the Mayor.
She openned the door.
Her brother Donnie was trussed up on the wall. As she entered his gagged mouth cried out, while eyes pleaded (and ordered) her to help him.
Donnie had never been that bright. After tormenting her for eighteen years did he really expect her to be on his side? When she was nine he'd drowned her cat. At age seven she'd awakened to find her hair glued to pillow. In order to get Tara to do his chores Donnie had given her more bruises that she could count. Of course, all that had been Before. Before she'd become a being utterly at odds with the naive girl once called Tara Maclay.
Yet she still remembered every little torture her brother had so cheerfully inflicted. Donnie's struggles were growing now as she watched him and made no move to help. He tried to make himself understood through the gag. Tara thought she made out "Do something!"
With a smile, she allowed the demon to show in her face. Donnie's eyes bulged. They were still bulging as his sister drove her fangs into his throat...
TO BE CONTINUED
Zahir
Nether World Anchor
Posts: 548
Registered: Nov 2000 posted May 17, 2001 22:48
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NEVER THE TWAIN? 2/?
AUTHOR: Zahir (zahir@brainlink.com)
DISTRIBUTION: Just ask.
SPOILERS: Be warned, this deals with virtually the entire show, albeit often in only tiny details. This one is about the end of S3 with a couple of details from S5.
NOTES: An alternate timeline in which Willow never completed the Soul Restoration spell. From there, things change. Heh heh heh.
COUPLES: W/T (kinda).
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: All the enclosed toys belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy who're way too cool to sue me I hope cause I don't have anything and I'm not making money off this and anyway isn't it a sign of maturity to share your toys please oh please?
FEEDBACK: Please!
***
Even Tara found the presence of her sire a little unnerving. He sat enthroned in an impressive library, surrounded by a wealth of occult knowledge, listening to her every word. She was still young enough to be impressed at how quietly an elder vampire could do that. But then, Tara found her sire just impressive, period. Most people did.
"You're certain the Mayor is no more?"
"Beyond doubt."
"In an explosion. How…scenic."
Off in the corner, the half-human Doyle took another swig from a bottle. Tara had noticed how squeamish he tended to be. But then, he was only half-demon. And her sire's personality had, she understood, grown only more intense by a few years spent in one of many actual hells. She felt a vague sympathy for Doyle. For his discomfort.
"Not exactly the work of the Lord, yer doin" he mumbled. "All this death and destruction."
"Oh, I don't know," began her sire. "It the Powers That Be wanted a healer, they'd surely have chosen another. Certainly not a vampire. As it happens, I have a perfectly reliable motivation. Wouldn't you agree?"
Doyle said nothing, merely returning to his bottle. Tara's sire gazed once more upon his favorite. She continued.
"The Slayers had armed the students beforehand. Once the Ascension began, I made sure the Mayor saw me fighting alongside them. He followed us into the school, then into the library. That's where the explosives were waiting."
Her sire chuckled in appreciation. "Good, good. Until now I've only vanquished pawns of mine enemies. Paltry younglings, minor predatory demons. With the Mayor, I at last remove a Knight."
"Yeah, well, you must be very happy." Doyle's voice was a tad more defiant this time. No doubt from the ale.
"Moderately pleased," murmured the once-dead vampire. "But I have time. My war has but begun."
* * *
Willow and Buffy enjoyed the sunshine as they strolled along downtown Sunnydale. The battle that had been graduation was behind them, with the vacation that was summer before. Each had slept in for five days straight, recovering from an exhaustion that seemed always to follow a near-Apocalypse. Now they meandered towards a late brunch to celebrate Wesley's release from the hospital.
"So, have you decided what to do about Tara…er, Little Miss Cyclops?" Willow wanted to know.
"With luck, I won't have to. She's probably skipped town."
"Probably," Willow nodded. "What if she didn't?"
Silence followed for a few moments, long enough for Willow to wonder if maybe her best friend hadn't heard her.
"I think" said Buffy at last, "I'm supposed to cut her some slack. For some reason."
Willow didn't quite know how to take this. Even stranger was her own reaction, which mingled relief with a few tingles of fear-not fear of death-or-dismemberment but something else. Something she couldn't identify. Yet.
"Um, mind if I ask why? Not that I'm questioning your decisions or anything…"
"I had this dream."
"Like a daydream? Or a sleepy time dream? Or was it one of those prophecy, gotta-pay-attention-like dreams?"
"Definitely pay-attention-like." replied Buffy. Then she stopped in her tracks. "Oh."
"What?" Willow looked at where her friend was staring. Then she joined in."
Coming up the main street towards them was a middle-aged man. He didn't seem extraordinary at all. Brown hair. Clean-shaven. Average height and build. In his hands were a stack of flyers and a tape gun. He methodically taped flyers to every streetlamp as he walked. They were the type of flyer both Buffy and Willow (along with countless others) immediately recognized. Each showed a grainy picture of a teenage girl, with the words "Missing" above and "Reward" below. A distressing number of such were already posted, each with a unique face, a different name, a separate set of details. These flyers caught the attention for one reason only. Because of the missing girl's face. Round and pretty, with simple blonde hair parted in the middle and reaching past the collar. Whoever had taken the photo had caught her smiling. To Willow, it seemed she had never smiled enough.
Both knew her at once. Little Miss Cyclops. Tara. The one-eyed vampire who'd betrayed the Mayor and so saved Sunnydale. Only in these pictures, she had two eyes. Willow found herself intensely curious about how the blonde had lost her eye.
The man posting the flyers noticed their reaction. He looked at them with an odd expression. A stern, tired mix of politeness and hope. One hand stretched out, a flyer offered to them.
"Excuse me," he said, "have you seen this girl?"
Willow's mouth moved, but said nothing. She shot a panicky glance at Buffy, then took the flyer to gaze at it. McClay. Her name was Tara McClay.
"She looks, well, a little familiar," Buffy lied. She hesitated before continuing. "Your daughter?"
H barely nodded. "Going to school at the University. What about you?"
"No. We just graduated from Sunnydale High."
"Ah." The slight reaction told Willow Mr. McClay had heard something about the graduation ceremony, about the "street gang" and a "gas main explosion." He just nodded in sympathy, his attention obviously elsewhere.
"We've been visiting UCS campus, though." Willow piped in. "But...I don't remember seeing her. Exactly."
Mr. McClay accepted this. Perhaps he already believed his daughter dead. Maybe he was one of those who can't bring themselves to hope, only go through the motions as if they did.
"Didn't belong down here," he sighed. "Shouldn't have let her come. But after everything, and when'd she get another chance?" For a moment his eyes burned, staring at some situation neither Willow nor Buffy could guess at. Moments later, he nodded politely and moved on. He easily had enough flyers to canvas the entire town.
They waited until he was out of earshot.
"Its not something we think too much about."
"What, Wil?"
"Vampires. Who they were before they became vampires. How much is left."
"Nothing." Buffy's reply was more than firm. It was tight, flat, even forced. Willow was immediately sorry she'd brought up the subject. Even after a year, Angel's fate obviously still hurt. More than hurt. When Angel lost his soul, it had torn Buffy apart and those wounds clearly still bled.
"So," she tried to banish away the memories with a cheerful tone, "you were talking about a dream?"
"Yeah," said Buffy, resuming her walk. "I was fighting like this whole battalion of vampires when the sun began to come up. They all ran towards this big mausoleum with a clock built in. Don't ask me why it had a clock, it just did."
"What time was it?"
"Seven thirty. In the morning, obviously. Anyway, Little Miss Cyclops" Tara McClay, Willow nearly said, but didn't "was just waiting at the door. And when they saw her, all they did was stop and go poof in the sun. Except she didn't. Just watched the dawn, turned around, went inside. I tried to follow but the door was locked."
"Kinda weird."
"You're telling me."
"Um...maybe the seven thirty is a date? July thirtieth? Do you think?"
"Maybe."
Another five minutes and they reached the coffee shop where Xander, Oz, Giles and a slightly haggard Wesley were listening to Faith.
"Hi guys!"
"Shhhhh" insisted Wesley. "Faith is telling us about her dream. A prophetic dream, evidently."
Buffy and Willow looked at each other.
"Anyway," said Faith, evidently ending her story, "there's Little Miss Cyclops just looking at me after I dusted all these vamps, calm as anything. Just watching. Then she turns 'round and goes into the great big tomb. Locked the door behind her, too."
"That's the problem with dreams," quipped Xander, "never a key when you need one."
"Yes, quite," Giles dismissed Xander's crack with long practice. He turned his attention once more to the dark-haired Slayer. "Any other detail you care to mention? Something that struck you as odd, or stood out in some way?"
"Like a clock build into the mausoleum?" tossed in Buffy.
"Nope. No clock," said Faith. "Just these big letters spelling out The Apostraphe."
Everyone blinked.
"The...Apostraphe?" Giles was now blinking more than anyone else.
"Or something like that."
Wesley suddenly sat up straighter. "The Apostate?" Seeing Faith didn't know the word, he spelled it. She thought for a moment.
"Yeah, that's probably right."
"Is that a light bulb above your head, Mr. Wyndham-Price, or have I had too much coffee?" Xander actually spoke for everyone. Wesley's mind was clearly going a mile a minute. He only noticed everyone's expectant faces after a moment.
"You see," he began, "the Watcher's Council has been hearing rumors for the past few months of a vampire called The Apostate. He--or she, the stories aren't consistent on that point--is supposed to be very old and to have declared some kind of personal vendetta against demon-kind in general."
"Perhaps our former ally," said Giles "Tara, may be this Apostate."
"Not if she's supposed to be old," said Buffy. Willow put the flyer McClay had given her on the table so everyone could see. Giles was the first to read it.
"According to this, she must have been turned less than a year ago."
Wesley shook his head. "On this point every whisper we've heard agrees. The Apostate is old. Centuries old. With the power and cunning that comes with it."
After a few moments of silence, it was Willow who voiced the theory nearly everyone had already arrived at.
"So maybe The Apostate is Tara's sire?"
TO BE CONTINUED...
Zahir
Nether World Anchor
Posts: 557
Registered: Nov 2000 posted May 21, 2001 00:48
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NEVER THE TWAIN? (Part 3)
AUTHOR: Zahir (zahir@brainlink.com)
RATING: PG-13
COUPLES: W/O, O/V, W/T (kinda)
SPOILERS: Up to and including S4's "Wild at Heart" and some minor ones from "To Shanshu in LA" from Angel.
NOTES: This is an alternate history in which Willow never completed the Soul Restoration Spell on Angel. From that moment on, things change.
ARCHIVING: Just ask.
DISCLAIMER: I'm just playing with toys owned by Joss Whedon & Mutant Enemy who're way too cool to sue me especially since I don't have anything they want (I hope).
FEEDBACK: Please!
"You want me to steal a piece of paper?" Faith's eyebrows lifted as she asked.
Tara nodded. She was pleased at the Slayer's reaction, how she reacted not to the idea of theft, but to the target. Much more likely to agree, then.
"Yes."
"What is it, a copy of the Pope's diary?"
"Actually, its a lost scroll inside the high security vault of a Los Angeles law firm."
Faith seemed to take this in calmly. "Why don't you steal it?"
"Their security is geared towards magic. Vampires in particular are detected instantly. I have lots more information if you take the job."
"Okay. And why should I do that?"
Silence stretched for several seconds between the two young women. Around them, the last patrons that night of the Bronze danced and chatted. For the first time in hours, nobody was playing pool. No band had been scheduled that night but even if they were it wouldn't be playing. Too late. Barely an hour before sunrise. One of the conditions for Faith to meet with a vampire.
"You owe me," Tara finally said. "Without my help you would very likely be dead. along with much of this town, including your friends."
"I'm not coming after you with any sharp pieces of wood, am I?"
" Plus you'll be paid."
"How much?"
"Five thousand dollars. And one other thing."
"Go on."
Again, Tara paused. When she spoke, there was a slight but real intensity to her voice. "Instead of you owing me--I will owe you." She leaned back, gaging the dark-haired girl's reaction. Faith herself took a sip of beer, thinking. Not rejecting out of hand. Good. Odds were good she'd agree. More than good. Excellent. Time to let her think it through completely.
"You know how to contact me." Tara stood. She weaved her way through the thinning crowd, headed for the back. Dawn wasn't that far away. She wanted to take no chances.
***
Tunnels criss-crossed the underbelly of Sunnydale to a startling degree. Old maintenance systems, abandoned fallout shelters, the occaisional secret escape for old bootlegger. Tara knew them well. Most local vampires did. In fact, they acted as something of a nosferatu highway. Usually, Tara used a different route to her lair each night. She'd been taught security by someone much older and more cunning. Tonight she made a very deliberate detour.
It was moments after sunrise when she got to her destination. Above her, the Mausoleum had been modified by someone she knew. It contained a wrought-iron cage for use three times a month. Each full moon. Like last night. Oz would be waking back to himself by now and then his girlfriend Willow would arrive to unlock him. Tara knew exactly where to stand. Closing her remaining eye, she focussed all her now-inhuman senses.
Something was wrong. Not one but two heartbeats at rest drummed faintly in her ears from above. Tara took a deep breath, picking up the telltale but extremely faint order of intercourse. Yet the sun had only just risen. Oz alone had reason to be locked up last night, when the moon would change him into a mindless beast. Whoever was with him was indeed with him, inside the cage. Their heartbeats were so close Tara had trouble telling them apart. Another werewolf?
Willow. She and Oz were intimate. The curse was usually spread by a bite, but perhaps other acts could have the same effect. Or not. Love-making hardly seemed to involve self control. In a moment of passion, might Oz have bitten his lover? And this be the result? It made a kind of sense, in a way. The possibility even smacked of romance, sharing a fate and all. For that reason Tara herself had made a point of meeting every female vampire in the area. No one, after all, wanted to be alone forever. At least no one with any trace, however faint, of humanity. Tara's own efforts had been anything but successful--Sunday's sophistication had proven little more than a mask for her own unrestrained instincts. Like most vampires. Tara increasingly believed that creatures such as herself and her sire--perceivers of the world as something more than a larder--were extremely rare.
So. Perhaps for Willow and her Oz there would be a real future. This was good. If for no other reason than it meant Tara herself was not without hope of finding someone. Curious, she lingered for a few moments. What would they say to one another? She imagined for a moment what the redhead's voice would be like now, in the morning after such a night? Husky? A little girl whisper? Maybe a languid version of her regular voice?
Footsteps. Approaching. Of course--someone to let them out of their cage. But something seemed wrong...
Voices. By concentrating, Tara could hear each word.
"Willow..." That was Oz.
"Oh my God...Oh my God..." Willow. But she wasn't in the cage with Oz. Then who was?
"I know what you saw," Oz was upset. "It was...I had to--I had to lock her up with me." Oz was never upset. Until now.
Willow's voice was shaking. "I bet!"
Tara almost knew what Oz was going to say next. She was right. "She's like me. A wolf."
Of course. Oz had found another werewolf, a female. He hadn't been careless around Willow, merely...lucky? Or unlucky? For some reason Tara found her mind racing over what this might mean. Did Oz desire to mate with this other? Or now that he'd tasted union with his own kind, would he try to convert Willow? Might Willow accept or resist? Then again, perhaps they'd try to reestablish some kind of balance?
So engrossed was she with possibilities, Tara missed much of what was said.
"Girls's got a point." Who was that? Ah, the female.
"Leave." That was Oz.
"I was just saying--"
"Now." Oz very nearly growled at...Veruca. Tara recognized her voice now. The singer. Yes, that made some kind of sense. She could hear the singer leave. After a moment, Tara made a decision. She left as well, winding her way through the tunnels towards her lair.
***
Hours and hours later, Tara woke.
In the room below the clock tower of ruined Sunnydale High, she pushed on a lever and emerged from the secret compartment in the wall. Layers of curtains surrounded her on all sides, shielding out the sun. A dim glow was visible, but not enough to be anything of a threat. Tara headed down the ladder to the tunnels.
Tonight was another night of the full moon. last for a month. It would be tonight. Predators understood each other. Yes. Tonight. Reaching out with her senses, Tara sped through the catacombs. She headed for university campus, focussing on finding one of two heartbeats. Which didn't really matter since one would lead to the other. But she needed to do so before sunset. Otherwise, a priceless opportunity would be lost. Tara was not one to let such slip away. And unlike most vampires, she had a keen sense of the future. Precisely why so few potential immortals thought in such terms puzzled her, but she'd long since recognized that fact.
She stopped. Closing her eye, she focussed. Yes. The tred of someone not quite human. A tred she'd heard before. Heading...where? Interestingly, she seemed to be crisscrossing the campus herself. A search pattern. No, a hunt. Which was all the confirmation Tara needed.
***
Trembling with an icy rage, Willow concentrated on her spell. Flames rose with her words, lending an erie atmosphere to the deserted lab.
"I conjure thee, by Barabbas, by Satanas, and the Devil...As thou art burning, let Oz' and Veruca's deceitful hearts be broken."
Early in life, the redhaired girl had learned to allow few inside her heart. That way lay pain, and misery, and shattered hopes. By the time she'd been ten, a certain logic had made itself clear. Controlling others was not an option. She couldn't make others value intelligence over beauty or honesty over style. The only control she had was over herself.
"I conjure thee by the Saracen Queen, by the name of hell. Let them know no love or solace, let them find no peace as well."
Willow would have preferred to simply be incapable of feeling negative things like loneliness or disappointment. Since she could, the best option was to be choosy. To select only a small number allowed past emotional walls. None had gone deeper than Oz. So no one had the power to hurt her as much.
Already the magicks were infusing her system. She could feel it, like a pleasant fever. Or was it more like an itch, demanding to be scratched? No matter. Resolute, she lifted a picture of Oz.
Sweet Oz. Funny Oz. Betraying, hurting Oz.
"Let this image seal his fate, not to love--only hate..."
The picture headed for the flames. Once consumed, the curse would be cast. Her boyfriend (lover, friend, beloved companion) would feel at long last the full measure of her wrath. All she had to do was burn the picture. Toss it into the flames. Merely flick her wrist and release the energies building all around her. Let her hate take form.
Simply let him burn.
And suffer. Like her. Now.
Now!
Done! She deliberately put the picture aside, away from the flames. Power drained out of her. Tears welled in her eyes.
"Wow." A sarcastic voice invaded the room. "For a minute there I though you might actually play rough." Willow turned to see Veruca at the door. Shutting it.
"Sometimes you have to, you know. To keep what's yours." A feral glint shone from the blonde's eyes. "Sometimes you have to kill." With that she locked the door. Then she smiled an unpleasant smile, glancing at the window. "Well what do you know? Sun's almost down." Another smile, this one even less pleasent. Veruca looked hungry, and cruel.
The two almost circled each other for a moment. "Can't say I'm surprised you didn't go through with your little hex," Veruca sneered. The sun was fading, Willow noticed. Soon her enemy would change, become one of the most dangerous creatures on earth. A werewolf. Not even an animal. Because animals only killed to eat or defend themselves.
Or their territory.
Veruca knew it too, of course. Looked forward to it, obviously. "You" the blonde whispered, nearing Willow, "don't have the teeth!"
C-R-A-A-A-C-C-K!
The door burst open. Locks and hinges flew off. In the shadows of the hallway was a shape. A woman's shape with long blonde hair. Tara?
"Funny you should mention teeth," Tara said in a surprisingly quiet voice. She took a single step into the lab, stopping short of the sunbeams now fading across the floor.
Veruca looked at the new arrival, puzzled. Willow could almost see the wheels turning in her head.
"Hmm. Someone new to the dance?" A speculative look from Willow to Tara and back. "Looks like maybe I'm on Oz' side in more ways than one. And you're not as sweet as you pretend."
"Leave." This time it was Tara's voice that growled. Literally. Veruca nearly did a take. Then, she grinned.
"Hey, I like it rough. Gotta a feeling you do, too." The sun was fading more. Shadows increasing. Willow had no idea who would win in a fight between them. Once the sun set, both would be superhuman. Or inhuman. Weirdly, she found herself quietly cheering on the vampire. Or, given the circumstances, not so weird. Tara had never seemed interested in hurting her, not exactly.
Now the sun was gone. Veruca took a deep breath. She grinned as her teeth began to grow. Her eyes changed, going dark. When she spoke, her voice was tinged with something like glee.
"You smell funny," she growled.
Tara's face shifted, her one eye shifting from saphire to gold. Brows furrowed, fangs erupted. "So do you."
With mutual snarls, the two demons leapt at each other.
***
Tara waited with Faith outside the Bronze. Neither said much. Both simply waited.
"Just for record," Faith finally said, "I do owe you. After last night."
"No."
"Uh...yeah! Its not like I got so many friends I wouldn't miss one."
"That's not why I did it."
Faith stopped. She looked at the vampire for what seemed like minutes. Before she could say anything a van drove up. They silently gathered their gear and got inside. The driver said nothing, simply waiting. Soon all three of them had seats. They were ready.
"Next stop, Los Angeles," muttered Oz as he headed for the freeway.
TO BE CONTINUED
Zahir
Nether World Anchor
Posts: 582
Registered: Nov 2000 posted May 25, 2001 14:41
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
NEVER THE TWAIN? (Part 4/?)
AUTHOR: Zahir (zahir@brainlink.com)
ARCHIVING: Just ask is all.
FEEDBACK: Please!
NOTES: This is an AU, in which Willow never complete the Soul Restoration Spell on Angelus. From that moment, all things change. Among other changes, Faith never worked for the Mayor and Tara is a vampire. And nobody's seen Spike in awhile.
SPOILERS: Pretty much all through the series, but this one centers on "Something Blue" from Season Four and includes a few bits from "Angel."
DISCLAIMER: I'm playing with somebody else's toys here--specifically Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. But my only profit is applause. So maybe they won't sue me?
SPECIAL THANKS: To all the nice folks who've given me feedback so far. And to Colleen, who came up with what happens to Wesley in this one.
COUPLES: W/T (kinda, sorta), B/F (ditto) and X/Ay.
RATING: PG-13 (unless you're a bit uptight, in which case you might call it R).
* * *
"How's that hangover coming?"
"Fine," mumbled Willow. "Going along its merry, nerve-shredding way. I'm not doing too good, though."
"Oh, Wil," Buffy murmered to her best friend.
"No, its okay. Really. The parade is winding down. People'll be by to clean up the mess any day now." The red-haired witch didn't, quite, whisper. But using her full voice was still a daunting prospect.
"Well," Buffy said, "at least you've learned that method of drowning only works on brain cells." She said this in a tone that experience said would earn a smile. But her friend didn't even react. Just stared into nowhere. Saying nothing for nearly a minute.
"I just wanted," Willow said at last, "the pain to go away. You know?"
"Yeah," said the Slayer. Memories flickered across her face for a moment. "I do."
At that, Willow looked up. "Was it like this when you had to...I mean...when Angel, or Angelus--"
"I think so."
The awkward silence that followed was broken by the phone. Although the dorm room belonged to both girls (for this semester, anyway), Buffy answered. Her roommate didn't even try. Buffy's "hello?" was soon followed by "Hey, Giles. What's up?" Willow barely noticed how the blonde's posture changed as she listened. What she did catch were Buffy's last words.
"I'll be right over."
"What?" She didn't say it, really. More like bleated the word. "Where're you going?" The Slayer was already slipping on a jacket.
"Faith is back. And no--" Buffy saw an idea spring into Willow's mind, "Oz isn't with her. Turns out she was on some kind of errand, and brought something back for Wesley and Giles. Anyway, I really have to go." She was already backing up towards the door.
"But do you have to go right now? Right this minute?"
Buffy didn't look her in the eye. "I'll call Xander to come over and keep you company."
"No." Willow's expression had gone from upset to sullen. "Don't bother."
"You sure?"
"Positive. I'll go over there myself." After another moment's hesitation, Buffy left.
* * *
"She ran off the first chance she got! Just ran!" Willow wasn't yelling but her voice still echoed in Xander's basement apartment. Both Xander and his girlfriend, Anya, flinched. "Like I was the dishes that can get washed tomorrow when there's time!"
"Wil," said Xander, "don't take this the wrong way..." He hesitated at the look she gave him. Then, "The last few days, you've basically been repeating yourself. After a certain point, well, what's Buffy supposed to do?"
"Be there for me! Listen to me!"
"Hasn't she? On both counts?"
"Xander..." whatever dangerous words Willow had been about to say were stopped when Anya interrupted.
"Faith's back, you said?" Anya, oblivious of many (well, most) social nuances, asked this in a very chipper tone. She took Willow's silence as agreement, missing the warning look from her boyfriend. "She's probably really really glad to have another Slayer around," she said, nodding as if this explained all. "Cause Faith's been gone awhile. Buffy's missed her."
"Yeah," Willow sneered. Xander did a take. Willow almost never sneered. "Those two should get married."
Neither Xander nor Anya noticed Willow's eyes as she spoke those words. How they literally glowed for the briefest of moments.
"Maybe!" Anya seemed to be taking this idea seriously. Willow nearly gagged, as usual annoyed at Xander's girlfriend but now seething. Unfortunately, the redhead knew her well enough to be cruel.
"Anya, you know what Xander should do for you?" Even Anya caught the venom in her voice this time. She looked nonplussed. "Buy you a pet. A pretty, little, cute, adorable...bunny." For some reason nobody understood Anya was terrified of rabbits. Her reaction was pretty much what Willow expected--her face lost every trace of color and and she stepped back, aghast.
"Thats not funny." Anya shuddered. "Xander, tell her not to threaten me like that! Xander?"
He was shutting the door behind him, on the way out. "Xander!"
Anya looked back at Willow. "See what you made him do!"
"Me?!"
Further warfare was prevented by the phone ringing. "Probably Giles," muttered Willow as she rushed to answer it, beating Anya by about half a second. "Hello?"
"Ah, Willow."
"Hello Giles." Of course.
"I was trying to reach Xander."
"Out."
"Oh. Well, I was going to call you as well."
"Yeah, I'll bet."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing."
"Yes. Well, Faith, you see--well, she is back--and---and--well, I think you should come over here. Xander, too, if you see him. And Anya, I suppose."
Willow let out a long, exhasperated sigh. "All right."
* * *
During the long walk from Xander's parents' house to Giles' apartment, Willow's mood mellowed. Even the presence of Anya (who'd taken far too long in writing a letter for when Xander got back) couldn't nudge her out of a funk. Anya wasn't blind. She realised her boyfriend's best chum was sad. The reason why was obvious as well. But all she could do was make what she believed were sympathetic replies.
Some of them even were.
"I know what you mean, Willow." Anya nodded sagely. She tended to do that on the subject of failed love affairs. "One minute he's the center of your universe, the next he's treating you like toilet paper."
"Actually..."
"Used toilet paper."
"Thanks for the image."
"You're welcome."
"But that's not whats getting me. Its--I don't know. Yes I do."
Anya listened. She really didn't have anything to say in reply.
"Okay, Anya. You have Xander. Between you there's the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing. Buffy and Faith are both Slayers. Now that she's back Buffy'll spend more time with her. Plus maybe Buffy'll get her own boyfriend. Giles is...well, he's Giles. The point is, I don't have anybody who'd just there for me. Somebody who's mine, you know? That's what I want right now. Someone for me!" Neither noticed the slight glow in her eyes as she said this last.
They nearly walked into the figure before them, as if she hadn't been there one fraction of a second before. Willow did a take as she recognised the face of Tara McClay.
"Oh!" said Willow.
"Uh, hi." said Anya.
"How did I get here?" asked Tara.
Willow and Anya looked at each other for a moment before the former tried an answer. "Plane?"
For the first time, Willow saw Tara smile. Hers was surprisingly pretty, if sedate. "I don't think so," she answered quietly. "Five seconds ago I was in Los Angeles."
Everybody took that in for a moment. The first one to think of something to say was Anya. "Weird." Followed by more silence. At last Willow decided to say something.
"Uh...I like your glasses."
Tara wasn't wearing her eyepatch. Instead, a stylish set of sunglasses--tinted ovals in gold frames--perched on her nose. The blonde vampire shrugged. "Less conspicuous this way."
"Guess so."
"How are you, Willow?"
"Fine!"
"Truly?"
"Well, not really. Fact is, I've been really down since Oz left, and--Thanks, by the way, for saving my life." Willow noticed Anya's unsuccessful attempts to subtly pull her to the side. "Excuse me..."
Anya pulled her over three yards away and whispered frantically. "Do you really think you should be talking to a vampire on a deserted street in the middle of the night?"
"Early evening," Tara called out to them. Anya's expression brought a grin to Willow's lips. She'd forgotten how good a vampire's senses were.
"If Tara wanted to drain me, she's had plenty of opportunity."
Anya didn't look placated. "What about me?"
Willow looked back at Tara, who actually cut quite a figure with her dark green trenchcoat under the street lamp. "Um, Tara?"
"Yes?"
"Promise not to bite Anya?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Thanks." Willow headed back to under the street lamp. Anya followed, albeit reluctantly. But once there, neither seemed to know what they should say. Tara herself had no such qualms.
"Either of you know how I was teleported back to Sunnydale?"
Two heads shaking as one.
"Any random magical spells occurring?"
Identically, they shook their heads again.
"But," said Willow, "we're on our way over to Giles. Maybe he's heard something, or has an idea, maybe?"
Tara nodded. "I don't mind."
"Of course there are a couple of vampire slayers there," piped in Anya, "but if that doesn't bother you."
"Faith got back alright?"
Willow found herself bridling a little at the question. "Evidently."
"Good."
"So--you and Faith are together? Were--were together?"
"Faith did me a favor." Willow took this in. She took it in for severa minutes as the three young women--two living, one undead--made their way across Sunnydale. As they neared Giles' apartment, Willow started to speak again.
"Just so you'll know," she began, "Buffy thinks maybe you're a special case or something. For a vampire, I mean. What with you helping us and all, and because you saved my life. Thanks again, by the way."
"You're welcome."
"Why did you?" Anya asked.
"Anya...!" Willow hissed.
"I'd like to know!"
Willow looked back at the vampire. "You don't have to..."
Tara seemed to ponder the question seriously. "Actually, that's a good question. You're only human. A friend of a Slayer, no less. On the other hand, I'm a demon who drinks human blood to survive. Plus I'm exactly the kind of demon the Slayer, slays."
"Maybe," Anya suggested, "you were preserving a food supply? Like protecting cattle from stray wolves?" She smiled at coming up with this analogy. Willow stared at her. Hard.
"I suppose that might be it."
"Getting rid of poachers."
Tara shrugged.
"Maintaining your herd."
"I think," interrupted Willow, "that's enough."
"Of course," said Tara, "there's more to it than that."
"Really?" asked Willow. She looked expectantly at the vampire, waiting for an elaboration. Tara in turn looked at her.
"Aren't you going to knock?"
"Hm?" Belatedly, Willow realised they had reached Giles' apartment. With a nervous laugh, she rang the doorbell. A silence-filled moment later, Giles himself openned the door--and stared at their companion.
"Hi Giles!"
"Yes. Hello, Willow. And Anya. I...I didn't expect you to bring...anyone else." The Watcher actually looked more frazzled than usual, even more than Willow thought he might under the circumstances.
"My being here is a mystery to me as well," said Tara calmly. "Ten minutes ago I was in Los Angeles. Suddenly, I'm back here."
"Yes, that is certainly mysterious."
"WILLOW? IS THAT YOU?" Buffy's voice called from inside. If anything, Giles now looked even more distracted. The blonde Slayer's voice sounded giddy. She stepped--or rather, ran, into view. Next to her--hand in hand--ran Faith. And both girls were grinning ear to ear.
"Uh, hi Buffy."
"I've got news!" Buffy nearly bounced up and down. Willow noticed how Giles hastily plastered a smile on his face once Buffy approached. What was going on? In reply to her unanswered question, Buffy looked at Faith. They each wore mutual expressions of worship and joy. Faith was the one who spoke.
"WE'RE GETTING MARRIED!"
* * *
Tara watched the people around her feeling something she often didn't--amusement.
Over five minutes had passed since Faith's happy announcement and the confusion that followed. Giles hadn't wanted to invite her into his home, but Willow had insisted. He'd then done his best to be a polite if unenthusiastic host. This particular chair was quite comfortable. And it let her see Willow, whose ever-growing eyes simply would not leave the figures of Buffy and Faith. Both Slayers shared the same seat, and very nearly the same space. Their snuggling was enthusiatic enough to rouse a touch of jealousy in Tara. Anya watched them as she might a pair of interesting, colorful insects building a nest. Off in the corner, Wesley was pouring over a small hill of old books.
"So," asked Giles, "a teleportation spell, you say?"
"Presumably," answered Tara. "At least that would account for how I got here."
"Typically, that is a rather advanced form of magic."
"I know."
Giles stole a glance at Willow, who tore her eyes away from the nuzzling Slayers long enough to look indignant. "Not me! I haven't been doing anything to do with teleportation. Honest!"
"Yes, alright." Giles pondered this for a few moments. "Well, I suppose one question to ask is--what did whoever-did-this expect to accomplish? What does he or she gain from sending you here?" Tara shrugged. "Perhaps a better question--what were you doing just before you...arrived?"
"Feeding."
"Oh." The temperature in the room dropped.
"There are places you can go where humans gather who actually want to be bitten. Goths, mostly. A few masochists here and there. Its a way to feed without leaving piles of corpses lying around. Handy."
Buffy and Faith stared at her, apparently startled out of their spooning by this revelation. "That's kinda icky," declared Buffy. "Hey," said her raven-haired companion, "whatever floats yer boat." Buffy looked dubious.
"Yes, well--was there anything out the ordinary about your...this event?"
Tara thought about it. "No."
"What about your victim?"
"They prefer to be called donors."
"What do you call them?" asked Willow, an interested look on her face.
"Vampires have all sorts of names for them. 'Trick' and 'Slurpie' usually, but 'Cow' is getting to be common."
"How interesting," Giles said hurriedly, "but perhaps the specific...er, Cow..."
"Donor"
"Donor...in question might provide a clue?"
Tara thought about it. "Just a bored rich kid with bit of a blood fetish." She nearly gave a description of her Meal--slender, short red hair, maybe an inch shorter than herself--but decided against it. "A regular, actually."
"YES!" cried out Wesley from the table of books in back. "Confirmed! Giles--do you know what this is?" The younger Englishman looked as excited as Tara had ever seen him. In one hand he held a familiar-looking scroll. Good. All was going according to plan, then. Everybody looked as Wesley joined them, eyes ablaze.
"This," he said dramatically, "is the Prophecies of Abergion!" Mostly what he got back were blank looks. "They've been lost for centuries" he added plaintively.
"Good for you, Wesley," said Willow at last, "but we're on something else right now."
"I don't think you understand..."
"Wesley," Giles tried to intervene.
"...these prophecies are among the most important ever recorded. Armies have marched, kingdoms been destroyed over rumors of its location! I am having a bit of trouble with the translatoin, since its been transcribed from several extinct languages, some of them not even human, but with time..."
"That's good, Wesley," said Willow. "And you know, I'll be glad to help out. Later. But right now..."
"Not needed" interrupted Wesley with a smile. A condescending smile. One which did nothing for Willow's mood as far as Tara could see. "In fact, you probably aren't yet qualified to help with this level of translation. Given some time, and the proper assistance, I'm positive we'll have what it says soon."
"Fine." Willow didn't snap. Not quite. Tara managed not to smile. "But right now we've got a mystery to solve."
"Such as," the younger Watcher seemed to notice Tara for the first time, "why there's a vampire in the room?"
"Kinda."
"And why no one's killing it?"
"Wesley!" The redhead stood and glared at him. She was clearly furious, and clearly didn't really know how to be. "You--just--ZIP IT!" And then pounced back down to her chair. Privately, Tara thought she'd never looked cuter, all resolutely peeved and sorry but not sorry for it at the same time. Then, Willow's face changed. She looked shocked, horrified.
Tara looked to see what Willow and everyone else was staring it--Wesley. Specifically, his mouth. Even Wesley himself was nearly cross-eyed as he tried to get a better look at what just happened.
Instead of lips, he now had a zipper. A very firmly shut zipper. From behind it, a muffled whimper. He tenatively touched the metal weirdness where his mouth used to be. Then, he looked at Willow.
So did everyone else.
* * *
Wesley tried to talk and couldn't, then both Buffy and Faith tried to unzip his "mouth." They found out the hard way that...hurt. A lot. So Giles suggested aspirin, then quickly followed that idea with ice.
And Willow watched, quietly panicking inside. Tara sat beside her.
"Hey!" Anya's raised voiced got everybody's attention. "Don't any of you realize what this means?" She sounded almost terrified. Nobody answered, so she stamped her foot. "Willow did some kind of spell so everything she said is happening!"
"No I didn't! And, and even if I did--which I didn't--I don't have the power to do something like that. I don't think. Which I wasn't trying to do anyway besides its not like I go around wishing bad things on people. As a rule. Hardly ever. Really."
"Actually," said Tara, "it looks as if you are the one triggering the magic that's been happening." Her eyes gestured around the room, at the zippered Watcher as well as the two Slayers practically joined at the hip. "Maybe an unintended side effect of a spell you might not even have believed did anything."
"Oh."
"In which case, only you can undo it."
There was a knock on the door. Anya jumped. "No," she whimpered. "Don't answer it!"
Giles waved a placating hand at her while heading for the front door. "Noooooooo...!"
The front door swung open to reveal Xander, all smiles and holding something behind his back. "Guess what I got my favorite girlfriend?" With a terrible chill, Willow suddenly knew what he'd done. Just as Anya obviously also knew. He'd obeyed Willow's will. To the letter.
From behind his back Xander brought forth a small cage containing a cute white bunny. It wiggled its nose at the room.
Anya started screaming in terror.
Willow started chanting.
TO BE CONTINUED
NEVER THE TWAIN? (5/?)
AUTHOR: Zahir (zahir@brainlink.com)
RATING: PG13 (maybe R for adult themes)
COUPLES: W/T (kinda), X/Ay, B/R, F/F (I'll let you figure that one out)
SPOILERS: Through "Where The Wild Things Are" and a few bits from "Angel."
NOTES: This is an Alternate Timeline in which Willow never completed the Soul Restoration Spell on Angelus. From that moment on, things change. Among them is that Faith never worked for the Mayor and Tara is a vampire.
SYNOPSIS: There's a frat part at Lowry House and things get weird. In a surprising number of ways.
ARCHIVING: Just ask first.
FEEDBACK: Oh, please! Pretty please!
DISCLAIMER: The toys I'm playing with belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, but I'm betting they're so cool they won't complain (I hope) and besides the only payment I get is applause (see FEEDBACK above)..
***
For what seemed like the thousandth consecutive night, Willow was alone. She didn't like it. The dorm room she shared with Buffy was comfortable enough, but at heart it was just a room. Temporarily hers. Right now unoccupied save for her lonesome. Don't do this, Willow nagged herself. You were invited to the party. Okay, maybe just because you're Buffy's friend although Riley likes you just fine and you could have gone. Xander is going. Even Anya is going. It being a party, of course Faith is going. So, why aren't you? Willow got up to get dressed. Then sat down. She'd done this three times in the last hour.
A knock on the door broke her mood. Who might this be? Someone looking for Buffy, most likely.
She swung open the door to a surprise. Tara. The vampire.
"Uh..." what to say what to say "Hi!"
"Hello."
"Buffy's not here."
"I know. May I come in?"
"You see, I don't know about that. Buffy, she'd get upset if I invited a...well, you know...into her home because, with the whole needing to be invited thing and all..."
Tara easily stepped inside the dorm room.
"Hey! How can you do that?"
"Dorms are public places, not homes. Like hotels."
"Oh." So here she was, alone with a vampire. No Slayer in sight. No cross or stake or... But Tara made no move to attack. Then again, she never had before. "Sit?"
The blonde literally sank to the floor, crossing both legs under her in a catlike motion. More awkwardly, Willow sat as well, facing her. The following silence seemed much much longer than it was.
"Welcome back to Sunnydale."
"Thank you. How're things?"
"Well, Buffy has a boyfriend now. His name's Riley."
Tara smiled slightly. "She and Faith didn't...?"
"No!" Willow felt her eyes pop open in embarassed memory. "That was the spell and once it was gone, they went back to normal--or the way they were. Well, not exactly the way they were. Actually, they've been kinda avoiding each other. Some. I...I made everybody cookies." She said this last with an almost-firm nod. "Would you like some?
"Please."
It took a little of scrambling for Willow, eager to play hostess, to dig out the cookie tin. But when she did, Tara accepted the cookie with good grace, even complimenting her on it.
"So you eat food?"
"I can. I just don't derive any nourishment from food. Still, I can appreciate the taste."
"And you've already...eaten?"
Tara paused before saying anything. "Vampires don't need blood every day. We like it, but one of the reasons so
