by AntigoneUnbound » Thu Sep 23, 2004 11:02 pm
Hello all. I have a few individual replies to address, but I wanted to get this up first. I'll start on the replies after I post this. Thanks!
AS TIME GOES BY
Part 9
Hey folks--Once again, I need to apologize for my delay. I've been helping out locally with the Kerry campaign, and last week was especially crazy. Thanks for your patience.
Summary: Oh, there's just all kinds of things going on...It's set right after the travesty of Season 6, but most of that never occurred. Willow and Tara have a baby; goddess alone knows how. And now Faith's on the scene. What the hell's going on here?
Disclaimers: I bought Joss and ME on e-Bay for a remarkably low price. Hence, all these people are mine. (See end of opening blurb for details.)
End of Opening Blurb: Not really.
*******
"A person's energy has a flow; a unity. Buffy's...grated. Like something forced in where it doesn't belong...Plus, she was kinda mean..."
And then they had made the passage to the Nether Realms, where Tara had been her anchor, kept her tied to this plane. That place had been a place of whispers and images and figures beckoning from the shadows but she had wandered through it all without fear or distraction because Tara kept her safe...and because Tara was waiting for her back in their world.
Tara, who had pressed her palm to Willow's, looked at her with hitched breathing that Willow knew mirrored her own; Tara's face, glistening with sweat as her eyes locked into Willow's and would not look away until the entire room had narrowed and the only air was the breath that passed between them. Willow felt it in her heart at first, a dull thrumming that slid and pulsed its way down her spine and torso until it settled someplace low in her belly and throbbed there. She felt it circle and spiral within her, gaining insistence until it fractured, splintered--shooting outward with a force that arched her back and wrenched a choked cry from somewhere deep and new inside of her. Her last sight before giving herself over to the Nether Realms was Tara's face, glowing with sweat and an almost unbearable beauty.
That night she had slept in Tara's arms as if drugged. Her entire body ached with a sweet exhaustion; her breasts felt full and swollen. The next morning they had left for Giles' apartment and found Buffy standing there in Faith's body. Even in the midst of the chaos and urgency, Willow had felt pride surge through her as she introduced Tara as the person who had figured it all out and with whose help she had conjured the katra that would help switch the Slayers back to their rightful bodies.
It was only later that night that Willow had remembered Tara's words in their entirety.
"Tara, what did you mean when you said that Buffy was kinda mean?"
Tara grew uncomfortable, glancing away to fumble with some papers on her desk. "Well, it wasn't really Buffy. I mean, that's the main thing. Even wh-when she was in Faith's body, I could tell she had a good h-heart. And now I c-can get to know her. The real Buffy."
"Right," Willow replied slowly. "You can get to know her because you figured out what was going on. If you hadn't, Buffy would have been killed by the Watchers Council. So yes--much gladness for the building of new friendships. But Faith--she doesn't have such a good heart. And she said something or did something or maybe both when we were at the Bronze; something that upset you so much you had to leave. What was it?"
Tara looked up, a deep shame etched across her features. "Does it really matter, Will? It was Faith, not Buffy, and sh-she's gone."
Will felt her heart constrict. She had such a fierce protectiveness toward Tara--this shy, amazingly powerful woman with whom, she now admitted, she was falling in love. She could never have guessed it--her evil vamp twin notwithstanding--and she hadn't been looking for it but now Tara was in her life, and it turned out there had been a room in Willow's house that had been created just for her.
Willow stepped closer and took Tara's hands. She felt the slight tremor that ran through them, and wondered at its cause. "Tara--I don't wanna make you uncomfortable. But I'd like to know what happened so that if I ever see her again I'll know exactly which spell to hit her with. I mean, should I prepare your basic unsightly rash, or are we talking sentient toilet plunger?"
Tara gave a small, low laugh--goddess, how she was coming to crave that sound--and then looked at Willow with a sigh. And finally--she had talked.
"She...she made fun of my stutter. And--and she talked about how much you and Oz l-l-loved each other. Like you c-couldn't keep your hands off each other." She wrapped herself tightly within her own arms, then looked up miserably. "I'm pretty sure she c-could tell how I f-f-feel about you you."
Rage and protectiveness and the final remnants of grief slammed into her, sliding through her mind like the tiny glass pieces at the end of a kaleidoscope. All these, and one more thing she was ashamed to admit: discomfort that someone could tell their relationship was more than friendship.
Faith knew just by looking at us?
But all of that, everything except her love for Tara, was eclipsed in a moment, as she stroked Tara's face with her hand, trying to make those incredible eyes meet hers.
"Tara...Tara, I'm so sorry. God, that must have hurt so much."
But Tara only gave a tiny shrug, then said in a low voice, "That's how I knew it w-wasn't Buffy. I knew you would never be friends with someone so cruel."
WIllow thought briefly of Cordelia. "Friends" might not be the best word, but even so...Cordelia would never mock someone for stuttering. Plus I don't see her picking up on the gay thing.
Tara looked up at her sharply. "But I know...I know y-you loved Oz. I know you still love him. You don't have to p-protect me from that."
Did she still love Oz? Yes, she decided.
She just wasn't sure quite how.
"Tara, look at me, please. I don't know exactly what I feel for Oz anymore. Yeah, I was in love with him. But he left. He walked out, and you walked in. And the one thing I do know is that I think of you a heckuva lot more than I think of him." She hadn't even realized this until she said it.
Tara held her gaze for a long moment, until Willow opened her arms in silent invitation. Tara gave her a small half-smile, then stepped into the embrace. Willow smoothed the long silky hair with both hands, breathing in the wondrous, indefinable scent that was Tara's alone.
If I ever see you again, Faith, you are a dead woman.
*******
Buffy recoiled as if she'd been slapped, her face a mixture of disbelief and dread.
"God, B., relax. Honestly--you're gonna be the only Slayer in history who dies of hypertension." Faith stood with her hands in her back pocket, weight on one leg. She was dressed in faded jeans and black leather jacket over a black t-shirt.
The moment that Faith had spoken, Willow had taken an unconscious step in front of Tara. Glancing at her partner, she knew that they were both estimating the distance to the staircase. Please, Kyra love--don't cry right now. Sleep sound, and we'll keep the monsters away.
But Faith had eyes only for Buffy, it seemed. She had yet to ackowledge anyone else in the room.
"Faith--what are you doing here?" Buffy's voice was low and even, but Willow could sense her friend's tension. "You wanna switch bodies? Try to resurrect the Mayor? What's the deal?"
Faith gave a low chuckle that held little mirth. It took Willow a moment to realize what it did hold: sadness.
Faith--sad? What was going on?
"B, you gotta keep in better contact with people. Heck, e-mail makes it so simple nowadays. Haven't you talked to Angel lately?"
But Willow knew that she hadn't. Buffy had finally realized, it seemed, that love could be both not enough and far too much. She and Angel could never be together, and it hurt to see him. What more was there, really?
Giles occasionally spoke to him and the group in LA, if there was need to share information. But Buffy and Angel had only spoken perhaps three times since Buffy's mother's death, and those exchanges had been short and painful.
"What does Angel have to do with this?" Buffy asked tersely.
"You know I went up there after our little...exchange program."
"Yeah. As I recall, he defended you." Buffy still hadn't moved, hadn't invited Faith inside, though Willow knew that Faith could probably have made herself at home if she had wanted to.
Instead, she looked down and shook her head. "Funny thing about people with some big-ass sins to atone for--they can be pretty understanding."
"So he--what--sprinkled you with holy water and absolved you of your sins?" Buffy asked, her smile a slash across her face. "No, wait--probably not so much with the sacred aqua thing..."
"He let me work for him," Faith broke in, and this time her voice held no sarcasm, no irony. "He thought about having me serve time for...for the murder." Here she faltered, and drew a deep breath. "And I think the guy coulda talked me into it. But he decided I could do more good on the outside. 'Free-lance champion,' he called it." She gave a small laugh. "I kinda liked the sound of it, to be honest. Thought about asking if it came with a cape. And I been doin' my part ever since. I definitely work alone most of the time, but I'm never too far from Angel and that crew. The man's my rock."
Willow watched Buffy absorb this news. Her face radiated both disbelief and hurt. Everybody but her gets to be close to the person she loves.
For the first time, Faith seemed to register the others in the room. "Well, lookie here...Everyone present and accounted for, except Riley. Even little sister's up late."
Willow realized with a swift shock that Faith would of course have memories of Dawn--and that Dawn would have memories of Faith. Only the teenager would know that they were of the ersatz variety.
"Hi Faith--ya skanky ho." Dawn smiled calmly.
Willow tensed for Faith's rage or, at the very least, her cruelty. But the dark-haired Slayer only frowned in mock reproach. "Now, Dawn--respect your elders. That's 'Miss Skanky Ho' to you."
Willow sensed that the others were as uneasy and perplexed as she was. And she could feel Tara's anxiety rolling off of her in waves.
The only time she ever met this woman, she mocked her stammer and her love for me.
Taking a quick glance at Tara, though, Willow saw that she was also feeling...what? She was looking at Faith intently, despite her tension.
"Hey kids," Faith nodded to each of them in turn. When she came to Willow and Tara, her gaze lingered an extra moment, or so Willow imagined.
Willow connected the various threads more quickly than most people could have, and the quilt that emerged was crazy indeed.
Faith had betrayed Buffy and later switched bodies with her; she had gone to Riley's room and made love to him and heard him say, "I love you." Only Tara's keen vision had let Buffy back into her own life.
Faith and Giles...Largely teacher and student, before Faith had gone rogue on them. Giles was watching her closely now, his expression unreadable.
Faith had been Xander's first sexual partner, a fact that had hurt Willow far more than she wanted to admit. Now she just found the idea...bizarre. And then later, when Xander had gone to talk to her, thinking that the commingling of their bodies gave him special insight, Faith had almost killed him.
Anya knew of Faith only through the brief episode three years ago, but Willow could tell from the ex-demon's slitted eyes that she knew of Xander's one-hour stand way back when and was not pleased to behold the woman before her.
Dawnie...That was the wild card, of course. Faith remembered Dawn as a 13-year-old with braces and an annoying habit of trying to go on patrol with them and steal their clothing. Dawn remembered Faith as the original Girl Gone Wild, all black leather and attitude.Only Dawn knew that none of it had ever happened.
Faith and Tara? Willow knew all she needed to know about that.
And as for Faith and Willow herself...Willow remembered the early days, when she had found Faith exciting and dangerous and, she recognized now, more than a little sexy. Then came the jealousy and the hurt, when Buffy and Faith were joined at the hip--the inner Slayer circle, Willow had thought of it. And then, just as she found the courage to tell Buffy how she felt, Buffy had come to her room that night, desperate and guilt-ridden and lost. Willow's last significant encounter with Faith--in Faith form--was when Willow had been kidnapped and held for ransom: her life in exchange for the Books of Ascension. Where had she found that voice, the one that ripped through Faith's defenses; made no excuses for her, told her everything that she'd thrown away? In that moment, before Faith had hit her so hard that her lip split, she'd seen recognition flash across the dark, troubled face--recognition, and then the barest whisper of regret. And then nothing, because the room had gone black.
So many dramas, so many hurts and betrayals, and they were all tied to the woman standing in front of them. Willow felt as if she were straddling four years at this single moment in time.
No one spoke for a moment, and then Anya blurted out, "You can't have sex with Xander now! He's married. To me," she added--unnecessarily, Willow thought.
Faith regarded her for a moment, one eyebrow arched, then grinned. "No sex with Xander. Check." Turning to the proclaimed husband, she winked, "Got yourself a live one there, Dude. Don't fuck with her. Except, you know...to fuck with her."
Xander only blushed furiously in reply.
"Faith, I'm only gonna ask you one more time: what are you doing here?" Willow noticed that Buffy hadn't relaxed in the slightest, despite Faith's as-yet unthreatening demeanor.
Faith turned back to Buffy and sighed. "Angel sent me."
Buffy glared at her in abject disbelief. "Right. Angel sent you. Because he knows we have a lot to catch up on, and because he's now legally insane."
"You're right about the first part, you know," Faith replied, her gaze never leaving Buffy. "But Angel's got his boyishly handsome head on straight. He said you could use my help."
"You truly work for Angel?" Giles asked slowly.
"That's right, Watcher Man," Faith nodded.
"You sure it's not Angelus you're working for?" Xander voice was tight with anger and fear.
"Shut up." The two Slayers spoke almost in unison, then looked at each other. After a long moment, Faith turned back to Xander.
"Angel saved my life, little boy. Actually, he saved my soul, and I thought that was so far past gone it would never find another on-ramp. So don't go making cracks about him, or Angelus."
She had done absolutely nothing to suggest a physical attack, but Xander stepped back nonetheless. Faith looked back to Buffy. "Listen, I don't expect it to make sense. Our last face-to-face in LA didn't exactly make for a Hallmark Special. All I can say is that Angel told me to come back here because I could help out and he's the one person on the planet who can tell me what to do."
Willow looked at her closely. She sensed no threat, no warning, no ultimatum. The bravado was still there--that would always be there, she suspected--but even that was muted somehow...Muted, or perhaps tempered by other things.
And why not? It's been three years. Haven't we all changed?
Xander was less judgemental, less eager to play the role of moral authority.
Buffy let herself rely more on the others; sought out their opinions in advance versus their understanding after the fact.
Willow and Tara were both more confident, more willing to voice their dissent without apology.
In the span between 19 and 22, she should hope they'd all have grown and changed--including Faith. But Faith, for all her swagger, had in many ways been the most childish among them. Not childlike, as Willow realized that she herself had been, to no small degree, but childish. Unable to tolerate disappointment or frustration; unable to reflect on her behavior; unable to see anything except in the starkest black and white.
Had Faith grown up at all? On the inside?
All of this passed through her mind as Buffy and Faith stared each other down--one wary; the other...tired, it seemed. Finally Buffy stepped back and crossed her arms. "OK--so how exactly does Angel think you could help? And while we're in Sharing Time, what exactly do we need help on?"
"First--you mind if I sit down? Been a long day."
Buffy glanced at the others. It seemed that everyone was trying to gauge the woman standing before them, familiar yet not. A silent and very qualified assent went up in the form of slight nods and shrugs.
"Sure. Park it. You'll understand, of course, if I ask that you move slowly and keep your hands in view."
"As opposed to what? Shoving 'em down my pants to work off some tension?" Faith shrugged. "Whatever. Can't blame you for being cautious, B."
As Faith moved toward the chair on the far end of the room, Willow and Tara stepped aside to let her pass and then, by tacit understanding, positioned themselves between Faith and the stairway. Keep sleeping, Baby Girl. We love you. Keep sleeping.
Flopping down into the over-stuffed chair, Faith remarked casually, "I don't know what you got upstairs, girls, but I'm not here for it."
Willow froze, then stole a quick glance at Tara. "What do you mean?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant and knowing that she was about fifteen rest stops away from that exit.
"You two been nervous--even more than the others--since I got here. You keep looking toward the stairs and you made sure to put yourselves between them and me. So I know something's up there. Just wanted to let you know I'm not here to fuck with anybody's valuables." She stared at them, her gaze shifting from one to the other. Was it a challenge? An olive branch?
Finally she looked away. "Back to your questions, Buff. Angel didn't say exactly what the plans were. He just said it had something to do with all the folks offing themselves here in Sunny D."
Giles started at the words."So the suicides aren't random? They are indeed connected somehow?"
"Apparently. Wes dug up some musty old papers that talked about it. He gave me a copy to give to you, Watcher Boy." So saying, she reached into the inside pocket of her leather jacket.
Immediately, Buffy sprang forward and hovered over her. Faith looked up, one brow arched sardonically. "Easy there, Sparky. Just gettin' some information for the nice man." She drew back her jacket so that Buffy could see the sheet of paper, and then slowly retrieved it and handed it to Giles.
The Watcher took them eagerly, all trace of wariness forgotten for the moment. "Careful, G-Man," Faith said dryly. "You're gonna burn a hole in your tweed." But Giles was already poring over the text--if a few hastily scribbled lines could be called text.
"What's it say?" Tara asked, speaking for the first time since Faith's arrival. Faith shot a searching glance her way, and Willow felt an odd mixture of protectiveness and territoriality steal over her. Faith eventually looked back at Giles, who was rubbing his cheek thoughtfully.
"Well, it's not terribly extensive, I'm afraid."
"Hey, don't sweat it, Giles," Faith reassured him. "Size is over-rated."
Willow caught Anya's grimace of possible rebuttal, and gave a silent prayer of thanks that the ex-demon didn't argue the point.
"Thank you, Faith. That's reassuring, in a profoundly cheap and licentious way," Giles said archly, and turned his attention back to the document at hand. "In answer to your eminently reasonable question, Tara, it says: 'Out of lightness shall come darkness; Out of darkness, new light.' At least, that's the best translation from the original Goedelic."
"Goidelic?" Tara asked uncertainly.
"It predates Old Irish," Giles replied, still peering at the lines before him.
"Those crazy Irish," Xander said, shaking his head. "Always with the double talk."
"Only it's not all that double, is it?" Willow asked, curious even as she held her position. "It's more like single talk, or single and a half talk. I mean, if this is related to the suicides, it seems pretty clear--the first part, anyway. Everyone who's killed themselves was a do-gooder in some way...a light. The more they're taken out of the equation, the darker it gets. It's the second part that seems iffier."
"I'm inclined to agree with you," Giles nodded. "If, of course, Wesley is correct in believing that this...prophecy, or verse, is related to the suicides. Regardless, we'll want to study this fruther tomorrow, when we can look through our own library for more information."
"I swear, Rupert--if Julia Roberts showed up at your door saying you had to choose between her and your books, I don't know which way you'd vote." Faith shook her head in disbelief.
Far from being affronted by this, Giles seemed to consider the question seriously. "Well, I should think that I would ask Ms. Roberts to help me study the texts. Why choose if you don't have to?"
Faith nodded her approval. "Way to think outside the box, Giles--so to speak." She slapped her hands on her thighs and stood up. "OK, kids--I am off to the local No-Tell Motel for a little shut-eye. Give you guys a chance to review the night's events and decide how much you trust me."
As she reached the door, she turned back and this time she was speaking only to Buffy. It was as if the rest of them had again faded from view. "We really do have a lot to catch up on, B." She gave a small, seductive grin. "I can take it if you can." She held Buffy's gaze for one more moment, then turned on her heel and left.
********
To Be Continued
Go Faith 
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