Hey its not my fault there was no update - this time.
Big I T - I think naughty is a good word. I already shocked my beta reader and she hadn't even read it yet.
Mrs Vertigo - Update was coming out and then there was no board. I was on schedule too. The schedule is now pushed back by a day. Update now (below) and then back to 3 days from now.
Vamp No 12 - Gee... you can post less than 10 lines? Who knew? Just kidding. Actually 92 includes good shivers. 93 just has MORE. Update is here guys.
Thanks for caring!
Katharyn
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Title:
The Sidestep Chronicle – Dreams (Part 87)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome.
katharynrosser@hotmail.comSpoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: Dreams make a difference.
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: I keep saying… close now.
Notes: Nope.
Thanks To: Kerry for her steadfast work in the face of… well me. Xita for… well Pens and the Kitten and all of you. All of you… for all of you. Celia for saying she would. Paul for taking a pass at this. Louise *wink*
The Sidestep Chronicle
Dreams
By
Katharyn Rosser
The dream seemed like any other that she’d had. Hundreds of them since she’d come back. It seemed like they were there, in her sleep, every night – more than once a night. Maybe that wasn’t quite right though. Perhaps it seemed that way when she was in one of the dreams – knowing that she was in the dream. But… she also knew that Tara was keeping her safe in the real world. She knew that Tara had been stopping the dreams from taking her and sending her somewhere that neither of them wanted to go.
But somehow Tara was the one that she was hunting too. She’d stalked the witch through the streets of Sunnydale and they were littered with the kills that she had made in the past. No one had ever cleared away the bodies. They lay where she had dropped them. Willow knew the faces and she could match them to the places where she was finding the bodies. The young backpacker that she had taken over at the bus stop. The woman who had been near the church clock house watching those demons. Willow had killed her inside the old building and that had felt even better – doing that in a place that she shouldn’t have been able to go.
Now there were just the bodies. Some of them… some of them were missing parts. She knew which parts they were missing because she was the one who had removed them. She knew them all so well, because they had all come to her so many times. In her other dreams. She knew them better now than she ever had before she had killed them. It had been a while since she had seen them, even in her dreams, and they almost seemed like old friends.
Almost. They were as dead as all her friends.
And she was hunting Tara.
They, the bodies, were everywhere. When following Tara had led her into and through the Bronze it had been a question of being careful where she put her feet. There were bodies everywhere. All over the floor, suspended in cages that she knew were now long since gone.
So many dead people and she had killed them all.
But the dead weren’t coming for her this time – so this wasn’t one of
those dreams. Tara had stopped those dreams. And now she was hunting Tara.
She
would get staked though. She always did and that would signal her waking up - when the stake slipped into her and she vanished in a puff of dust. Then she would wake up. The certainty gave the dream a curious comfort zone. Because she knew it so well she was able to think about it – in what she sort of realised was a wacky dream way – and know what was going to happen. It didn’t change how intensely she felt it all though. It wouldn’t change the pain.
She knew the Tara she was hunting – but it wasn’t quite a Tara she’d seen before. This Tara was different. This Tara was older, sadder and faded before her years. This Tara was the one that she was going to turn – before things went too far down the slippery slope. It was a slope coated in blood. She was going to do it before the Kitty changed too much and before Tara did anything to her instead.
Except Tara had already done something to her – because this was a dream.
It was a dream but Willow knew with absolute certainty that Tara had just celebrated her 33rd birthday. She’d been there after all. The only guest at a party that Willow knew she had seen as a celebration of Tara’s imminent death. She knew that she’d decided a few weeks ago that she had to turn Tara. She’d held off expecting some last birthday fun. She knew that it was only tonight that she’d told Tara about her imminent fate though – intending just to do it and explain the why later on when there would only be the demon to care.
Why
should she have told Tara? It wasn’t as if Tara had told her about her own imminent destruction now was it? That she was going to stake her – in
bed of all places? That she, the Kitty, planned to betray her
after playtime? Tara had certainly not given her a fair chance – and she hadn’t thought, in the dream, that there was any reason to return the favour; otherwise they were bound to end up with Tara fighting for her life and losing.
Which was fine. Willow fully intended to take that life and suck on a new sweetness.
That was where they were heading now. The fighting would come after she had cornered Tara, and it was looked like Willow knew Sunnydale better than the witch did – even after years and years patrolling it. It was years since the Slayer had been killed and Tara had taken over her duties if not her heritage. Years in which Tara had continued to keep the vampire population so low that if Willow had tried to form her own kingdom here, she wouldn’t have found more than ten followers at any one time. She knew that maybe only one of those would have been worthy of following her.
It would hardly have been worth the trouble now would it?
Besides she’d been having too much fun with the Kitty. It was just that the Kitty hadn’t been having fun with her. Sometimes that didn’t matter too much – other days it just made things so dull and boring. Everyday she’d watched the Kitty die a little more. And playtime had become less and less fun as she did. There were things that could be done with and to a Kitty with a broken spirit… but they weren’t as much fun all in all. Willow knew, in her dream, that she needed to get that spark back – and it seemed so dim now that the only way was to give Tara what she had never, ever, wanted or allowed.
And Hey! After all Tara had killed her already. The logic of that was giving her a problem though… If Tara had destroyed her then what was she doing stalking Tara now… How could she feel, no… how could she know, that they had spent more than a decade together in this town?
She couldn’t get the details into her head though…
Maybe she’d been brought back… But Tara wouldn’t do that – even if she could. Tara would never bring her back
wrong. Hey though, not wrong. Absolutely perfect. It was the Kitty that was all wrong and getting
old… boring.
Well it was a dream, so what they were doing, what they had done and what they remembered all made a weird kind of sense to her.
The sort of sense that didn’t at all.
But that was okay… it didn’t have to as long as she woke up when she was staked. As long as the physical and mental pain brought her out of the nightmare world. That was the way that it always was… It never fun getting staked and she knew that she had been more than… once, twice, three times a vampire.
Three times?
That had been the easy thing.
She had been staked hundreds in her dreams.
She continued on until finally… there was Tara. The Kitty looked tired. She looked
old and faded whilst Willow knew that she looked just the same. But how would she tell that? There were no mirrors that would ever show her. No reflection anyway. Tara didn’t care about that – getting older thing – in fact she sort of revelled in it. It was, she’d said, about the only thing that meant she was still alive.
Being alive obviously wasn't all that great in Tara’s opinion – Willow was doing just fine and she was dead already. And also which of them was all sad and withdrawn and boring? Which of them was having fun in her existence? Hands up if you were the playful, dead, girl. Well Willow was about to take that life from her Kitty and then she would be fun again.
And Tara had taken her immortality away already hadn’t she… which meant…
Well did that mean she was mortal?
Something like that.
Dreams… pfff.
A life for a life. Immortality for mortality. A curse for a gift… or was that a gift for a curse? Didn’t matter. She wanted to preserve the Kitty
now, because Willow didn’t like the way her Kitty was changing – getting all faded, dull and boring. It was still the Kitty, but it wasn’t the Kitty that she’d chosen all those years ago. This was a different Kitty and one that didn’t even like to play anymore. Not with anyone. Tara had changed and change was bad.
Change hadn’t been in the brochure at all. She’d practically had to force the Kitty to keep playing sometimes. Actually there was nothing ‘practically’ about it. There was a whole load of forcing… and even if the Kitty was willing to be played with there was no enthusiasm there. No passion. It was like… it was like burden to her.
Well now
that was going to change. Willow was going to bring a new spark to the Kitty, a different spark. Perhaps a glimmer. She knew that it wouldn’t be the same but the same wasn’t what she wanted. The same had got all boring and everything.
God in heaven what was she about to do?Where the hell had that complaint come from? She was a vampire… that was what she did and it was long past time to do this. She’d been patient and she didn’t like that in herself at all.
Just because she was immortal didn’t mean that she could wait forever.
Willow just wanted her Kitty back.
Tara didn’t turn to face her, so Willow had to turn her around. She wanted to see the face, full of fear, when she was about to do this. And she wanted hands… her hands were always better laid on from the front whilst biting. At least when she wanted to enjoy herself.
Willow liked to be in control, but just for once in a decade couldn’t Tara have taken the initiative? Oh well… she might do soon when she came back. No nasty grave for Tara – she would wake up in her own bed. Without her pesky, depressed, boring soul. Willow had no idea how she’d put up with it for so long… The new struggle for dominance was going to be
so much more fun than anything that they’d had in the last two thousand nights.
She kissed Tara once, turning that into a lick from the corner of her mouth round to her ear and then down to her neck. Tara knew what was coming which was why she had run. Maybe she was tired of running from it as well. Without pulling back once she sank her teeth into Tara’s flesh in a way that she had wanted to do for all of those many years.
She’d been so patient. She’d impressed herself with that. And disgusted herself a little too. Patience… smatience. From now on it was going to be playtime all the way. The way that it had been before. The way that it should be. She’d missed it.
And it was so sweet. It was the sweetest taste that she’d ever known. Almost like the taste of that first blood… that she’d been fed from her sire. Tara didn’t make a sound. She didn’t struggle at all. Struggle would have been nice as Willow laid her hands where she liked them to be. On her Kitty. On the hollow shell that hadn’t been the Kitty for a long, long time.
A life for a death. A death for a life.
Tara was suddenly heavy in her arms, but she didn’t let the woman fall to the ground. Instead Willow supported her and ran a nail over her own wrist, watching as the blood that she had just stolen gushed all hot on her skin… She felt so warm and full and satisfied… and she would feel even better when they started to play. Two demons fated to be together. That was going to be…
Neither of them fragile either.
She fed it to Tara and then, in the dream, Tara was back. It was never so quick. It had been instant. Tara’s lips had touched the blood and she was back…
Eager girl! Eager to start to play. There was a demon in Tara now – just as the woman had long ago feared that there was. A demon that would want to play and would be with Willow forever… Playtime forever. No more being patient. No more being bored.
Except Tara looked the same. Apart from the wound in her neck. Apart from… there was no blood on her lips where she had drank from Willow.
Apart from the fact that… Tara shoved a stake through her skin and Willow
knew. In and out of the dream she knew why Tara had killed her. She’d done it to free her – no matter what the cost was to herself.
Tara had killed her. Tara had brought her back. And this… this was all a bad dream.
No matter what the circumstances Tara would always have done it.
This was what would have happened to them but Tara had saved her from that.
It was an act of responsibility to the world… to all those dead people littered around Sunnydale. And it was an act of love.
Tara loved
her. In every way.
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Willow woke up. Shuddered as if chilled. Even if really she was all hot and sweaty. It wasn’t the stake that had done it this time. She’d stayed in the dream after that had happened to her… the dream-her. The her that wasn't really her. Just a her that might have been. Would have been she was sure. If Tara hadn’t… But she’d stayed until she knew everything this time. And she
knew that Tara had loved her then. When she did it. Not the vampire. Her. Tara loved her in every way that she possibly could.
As a friend. A lover. A human being. Her soul-mate… and to have a soul-mate one needed a soul. That was pretty obvious. Tara had given her soul. Her life. Her chance at something better than that nightmare.
And in the process, though she would never know it, Tara had saved her own life. Her own soul.
The idea of doing that to Tara. It was…
No matter who and what she was… Tara loved
her. The her that was at the core of her being now. Through life and death – death and life again. Tara loved Willow. Not the vampire – no never that. The vampire had just been as close as Tara could get to
her when she’d found that Willow. Tara hadn’t killed the vampire that had been calling herself Willow for her own reasons. Not to lessen her pain. Maybe not even to save others.
She had done it because she knew; somehow, that was what Willow would have wanted. The real Willow. And she
would have wanted it. She wouldn’t have wanted the death… see the guilt that she had now. She wouldn’t have wanted to continue hurting Tara or anybody else. But Tara hadn’t just been thinking about that.
Tara had known that even losing the only Willow she had ever met had been the right thing for the Willow that she had never known at all. Even if she hadn’t been able to bring her back it was the right thing for her to have done.
The vampire had been as close to loving Tara as she could have managed, but the dream showed Willow where that would have gone. The vampire didn’t even
want to love her Kitty. What the vampire felt was as nothing compared to how Willow felt for Tara now. It had just been a tiny, impure, fragment that vaguely resembled something approximating the love. Not close enough to what Tara deserved – just for being Tara. But that wasn’t why Tara had done it either. None of it was for herself.
They had confused Willow, those emotions, those memories of
them in amongst all the real bad. She’d remembered the passion and through some trick of the memory and her new consciousness that had merged with the love that she felt for her friend now. And the gratitude, the fear of remembered passion being a little like what she was feeling now – that was what had slowed her down. That merging was bad… it had slowed everything down. It had confused her because she hadn’t been anymore certain of her own feelings than she had been of what Tara had been thinking when she’d destroyed the vampire. She was grateful for her new life – her ‘chance’ as Tara liked to call it. That gratitude and the feelings of undeniable attraction had hidden the other love that had been building inside her. Willow had seen the glimmer – known what it was – but avoided all it might be simply because she couldn’t be sure where it was coming from – either in Tara or in herself. Had she been remembering attraction? Passion when that had grown inside her? And she had to admit that she felt something of that passion for Tara? Had the vampire been ‘contaminating’ her feelings?
No it hadn’t. It was just a memory. Not a feeling.
But she hadn’t known that for so long.
If she had looked… then she would have been sure. She would have known that something different was building. Tara was her friend and she loved her. She wasn’t sure quite
how Tara loved her… but she knew that there was love there within her friend. And Willow knew that she needed to be with someone who loved her. A person who was good too… that could put the world ahead of her own wants. A person who she could feel an attraction for. Who inspired passion – and not in a sexual sense. Passion of feelings. Tara did that for her.
It had confused her, but now she knew. Tara really had always loved her. She felt that… she was so close to being in love herself, if she wasn't already. And she felt… She didn’t remember. She felt.
Willow rolled over, her eyes were used to the dark and now she looked at the other person in the bed. She was with someone who was that good and who loved her. Right there with her.
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When she woke up Tara knew that she would think back on the dream and admit to herself that, in hindsight, the Roman 9th Legion marching across the yard, past the kitchen window, should have alerted her to the fact that it was, after all, just a dream. The clue that told her that – even though she was still in it – didn’t stop the dream from unfolding as her reality though.
Sometimes she knew that she was dreaming, sometimes everything was so real and sometimes… well sometimes it was a weird and wonderful mix of the two. Or not so wonderful as the case may be. This was one of those ones. The not so good. It looked like it might even be a bad one – one of her nightmares in fact.
When the last members of the legion had passed by the window she was there, alone with Willow again. Not for long though. This was a Willow who was just leaving the room – for the last time. Tara had already carried her bag out to the waiting cab. The driver had been good enough to put it in the trunk for her. They’d only come back to make sure that Willow had not forgotten anything. Willow had collected a lot of stuff in the time that she’d been with Tara. Clothes, things they’d bought for the house but that Tara wouldn’t need when she was on her own.
She was going to be alone again.
Without Willow.
She wanted to give Willow the best start in life and that meant setting her up as much as she could – not that Tara had much to give to her anyway. The ticket home and as much money as she could spare. Those few household items. She’d done all that Willow needed her to. She’d got Willow better – helped her to get better anyway and she’d always known that, when Willow was recovered, she would want to go back into the world they had retreated from.
It was natural because Willow had her whole life ahead of her, again. She had a chance and that was what this had all been about. The chance had been taken away from Willow once and now she had that back. She could go home… she could try and make things right with her Dad and then she could do anything that she wanted with the rest of her life.
Anything.
Tara was sure that it was going to be something special. Willow was capable of great things. Wonderful things – Tara was so sure of that. She was already the most wonderful thing in Tara’s life. That might not be saying too much given the state of that life, but… it meant something to Tara. She was happy she’d been able to know this, the real Willow. Just for long enough to help her out.
Willow didn’t turn back as she got into the cab. There was nothing much to say now was there?
Nor did she look back out of the window as the cab left. Even though Tara was waving to her, tears streaming down her face, Willow didn’t even turn around once. She had a life without Tara in it. Tara had given her that. She was sure Willow knew that her options were out there… her chance was out there. Not here.
She’d always known that this day would come.
She stood and watched the cab vanish as the road twisted its way behind the trees.
After the rabbit rode by on her horse she was somewhere else entirely. Another time and another place. She was standing in an alley. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. It was like being back in the bad old Sunnydale days… with the pendant itching at her neck. Burning her. She’d almost forgotten what that felt like.
She’d almost forgotten because there was only one vampire left… just one in the entire world. The one that she had known the location of for what seemed like forever.
And then there that vampire was. Behind her. There were cold hands holding her cheeks. Willow was there. Willow who was the worst thing in the world for her – as a vampire. The last vampire – the one that she hadn’t ever been able to get rid of. Not because of a lack of skill but because of how she
felt. “I’ll always find you,” Willow told her. And she did. She always did. Every time Tara tried to stay away from her. Maybe it was because Tara had never been able to try that hard to stay hidden from her.
Maybe she should have.
But was there a hiding place from their fate? Maybe there was from the vampire – but not from the love that she, if not Willow, felt. She turned around and did what she had to, driving her hand towards Willow’s chest. But it was empty – she had no stake and hand was just resting there.
She couldn’t kill Willow.
But hadn’t she done that already? Wasn't that why Willow had left her? No… Willow had left because that was all that Willow had been able to do. Gone away in that taxi to set off to find her life. Her chance.
Even as she touched Willow she felt a prick in her palm, the vampire exploded and in her place… Tara’s hand was on the chest of another Willow, briefly shrouded by the dust. Willow was there. The better Willow. Willow had saved her from… that other Willow. But hadn’t she driven away in the cab? Before the rabbit had ridden past? That pink rabbit. “I’m not going anywhere,” Willow told her. “Why would you think that Tara?”
There really was no hiding place. Not from fate. Not from love.
Willow had banished that other Willow… So that she could stay? Willow was staying? Well whether she was staying or not Willow was definitely kissing her there, in the dream.
Where had her fear gone? Being afraid to be so close? Being afraid of what Willow thought of her for killing that other Willow? Afraid of her leaving and not wanting to go anywhere near starting something for fear that it would be brutally stopped? She was less afraid of those things as of Willow having no one to love. And of not being able to be near Willow in any way at all.
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Tara opened her eyes and she found Willow right there. Right up close to her. So close that she could feel the warmth. She could hear the breathing. Feel the breath. Willow was close enough to kiss. Had Willow kissed her? Was that real? She was sleeping now though – breathing softly.
But dreams… dreams happened in their own time. That end… it might have been hours ago. Alternatively it might have been less than a heartbeat.
And she was there.
Willow was really still there. She hadn’t gone.
Willow was still there. In bed with her friend.
She hadn’t gone.
Willow hadn’t left – because she wasn’t going to leave. That was if she could believe the dream… and that it had any significance. If the dream was anything more than just random sleeping thoughts then didn’t Willow care about what Tara had done to the vampire? Maybe… maybe that kiss was saying that Willow
did care about it. It was just that she thought that it was a good thing. Not a betrayal… not something that she had to fear.
The kiss was her reward?
No.
The kiss was just a kiss. But it could be a symbol. A symbol of what though?
Tara thought that, thinking back on it, she should have been scared by the dream and what had happened – but she wasn’t. Willow had left. Willow had been the vampire… except she hadn’t and she wasn’t. Willow was here. Willow had
kissed her. Hadn’t she?
She laid her hand over Willow’s shoulder and the other woman automatically shifted her position, moving into what looked like becoming a sleepy embrace. Tara liked that – it was almost as good as a wide-awake embrace that she had foolishly tried to avoid for so long.
This was warm, living, breathing, pulsing Willow.
A Willow that was still here. If Tara thought about the dream… she’d expected Willow to go and she’d gone – in the dream. Tara had even carried her bag to the cab, not trying to stop her at all. And Willow hadn’t waved… not even acknowledged her. Maybe… maybe Willow was angry and
didn’t want to go.In the dream?
Maybe I drove her away by expecting that – by not letting myself get close? Did I leave her no choice but to go?If that was what had happened there, then could it happen here too? Was it really all in her hands? Could Willow be in her hands? And she in Willow’s? And in each other’s hearts… more than they already were.
And… Willow, there in the dream, she hadn’t blamed Tara for the vampire… she hadn’t blamed her for leaving the vampire to murder for so long. She hadn’t blamed her for killing the vampire. None of it. It was like… it was like Willow didn’t care what had happened to the vampire – even if she felt the guilt.
Because the vampire wasn’t her?
And because she’d given Willow the chance to be something other than the vampire?
Now did she have to give Willow the chance to stay? If she wanted to? Tara had been trying to be the responsible one, because she’d thought that someone had to be. Willow had to be free and
she had to be the responsible one. That was the way that things had seemed to be. She’d been trying to stay a little detached – and that was so, so hard. But… it had seemed the right thing to do. Whatever she’d been feeling. But what if she had gone too far?
Or maybe not far enough? That was something to think about… or maybe she’d thought too much. Maybe she should just have been feeling? Trusting herself?
What if Willow had wanted… but Tara never looked like giving? Was that why she had left in the dream?
What if Willow wanted to give but Tara never looked like accepting her gift?
Then there would be the cab that would take Willow away.
That cab would be real even if the Roman Legion wasn't.
And she didn’t want that at all. She wanted… she’d always wanted just one thing. And that was Willow. Was the dream telling her that she might be close to losing that one thing? The closer that they became to each other the more it was bound to hurt if they rejected where they were going… Could she continue to try and wait? Was waiting really rejecting? Would that lead to the cab ride?
Tara had always known that she might be hurt like that, but she had never considered that as Willow’s fate. Never wondered if Willow would hurt so much if she felt that she
had to leave. Now she had to be careful… to give Willow a
free choice. If that was what she thought they could do…
Not gratitude… not to please Tara… but not pushed away by her friend either. Willow had to have freedom. That was what the chance was all about. Or else it wasn't a chance at all.
Usually something like that would have kept Tara awake. She should have been turning it over in her mind for hours until dawn broke. But for some reason it didn’t.
She was asleep again in minutes. Holding Willow and wondering about the rabbit.
******************
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If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in
Chance.------------------------
yep, i'm all for the erotic or sensual or sexual too 
). I so can't wait, and I need my SC "fix" so hopefully you will update soon 
.
Edited by: 
at: 10/3/02 8:53:27 pm
!
Edited by: