by AntigoneUnbound » Sat Aug 06, 2005 1:37 pm
AS TIME GOES BY
Part 12
Disclaimer: Shall I compare the owner to a summer's day?
Keep the day; throw Joss away.
*****
After Buffy had resumed her research, interrupted by frequent snorts of displeasure and pointed glances in Giles' direction, Willow walked back to the far corner to where Tara was playing dolls with Kyra. Actually, the singular would be more accurate: the only "doll" that Kyra had ever shown any interest in was the severely mutated (and much improved) slab o' genuine molded plastic that Buffy had given her, "Little Baby Stake 'n' Slay." Kyra liked to slay such varied unholy creatures as her stuffed Barney, any picture of Britney Spears, and a George W. Bush chew toy that Willow had ordered off of the internet. "Bye-bye!" she called out as she dispatched each victim.
(Willow had paid for all of these things, including the internet purchase, as she realized that stealing was fraught with moral implications and certainly not something to be done lightly or joked about.)
In addition to "bye-bye, Kyra could say "Mommy" (for Tara) and "Mama" (for Willow). Among her other verbal acquisitions: "no" (which she used infrequently but effectively); "dink" (when she was hungry)' "bed" (when she was tired); "Dah" for Dawn, and, most wonderfully of all (at least for Willow and Tara), "Bub": her version of "Buffy."
"I am the Chosen One," Buffy hissed. "I've averted an apocalypse every year. I took down a god." She stamped her feet and glared at them. "I am not 'Bub the Vampire Slayer'!"
"But why does she drop it to one syllable?" Willow asked Tara after they figured out what Kyra meant. "I mean, even if they can't say the word properly, kids typically try to match the cadence." (Research was her forte; she knew her developmental milestones and most subtleties thereof.)
"Who knows?" Tara grinned, wiping her eyes after yet another of Buffy's attempts to change Kyra's pronunciation, this time using a cookie as a bribe. "I just love the fact that Buffy doesn't seem to realize that her name in and of itself is a riot. Really, what was Joyce thinking?"
"Haven't we all wondered..." Willow admitted.
"So what's up?" Tara asked now, looking up from the carnage. Willow filled her in on Giles' decision and the agreed-upon plan.
"But maybe Faith just won't show up," Willow added hopefully, wondering if Tara would be disappointed in her words.
Her partner, though, just shrugged. "With Faith's track record, I'm not putting money on any particular pony."
Willow should have known, however, that she would jinx herself. The Dark Slayer walked into the Magic Box just before 8:30.
"You're late," Anya said accusingly, which even Willow had to admit was a little hypocritical since Anya most definitely hadn't wanted Faith there at all.
"Had to go to Mass. What'd I miss?"
It was hard to gauge the reception Faith received. Willow thought she had detected a slight thaw the day before, but she couldn't imagine that anyone would say they actually wanted Faith involved.
Willow felt herself tightening yet again, hoping that Kyra wouldn't reach out for Faith. But her daughter was busy staking Britney--"Bye-bye!"--and didn't look up.
After a slight pause in which everyone basically looked at each other, Giles stepped forward. "At this point, we have no new information. We're...quite at a loss."
"And that whole 'Hey, aren't you guys superheroes?' piece? That sink in yet?" Again the face was unreadable. Her hands were folded across her chest; her head tilted in the familiar pose...and yet something was different.
What?
"Uh, yeah," Xander replied self-consciously. "Feelin' kinda slow on the uptake for not thinking of it, but it does seem like something we should maybe talk about."
"So let's talk," Faith shrugged, reaching out for a chair. Just then she spied Tara and Kyra, both of whom were now looking at her. Her face softened for an instant, then she looked up at Willow and stepped back, shoving her hands into her back pockets as if daring Willow to accuse her of malicious intent.
"Hey," she said quietly, nodding at Tara and Kyra.
"Hi Faith," Tara replied evenly. Kyra, to Willow's chagrin, was now smiling at Faith.
"So...whatcha playin', kid?" Faith asked nonchalantly, even as she craned her neck to get a better look. A quizzical look crossed her face, and then suddenly, something akin to pure delight danced through her eyes. "Is that a Slayer doll? Get out!"
"Yeah--that was Buffy's idea," Dawn replied, watching Faith carefully.
Faith looked at Buffy, not even trying to hide her approval. "Mad props, B," she nodded. "Not exactly a mass market kinda thing, but still...Very cool."
For her part, Buffy seemed to be having a hard time meeting Faith's eyes. She'll never look at a bathtub the same way ever again.
Just then Kyra staked Barney--"Bye-bye!"--and looked up at Faith. Her arched eyebrows seemed to ask, "How'd I do?"
Faith grinned hugely. "Nice form, kid--you got potential."
Willow had never seen Faith like this--smiling without bitterness or spite; looking at someone with open affection. She felt torn between fascination and her enduring suspicion.
"We should get to work," Buffy interjected abruptly. Faith pulled her gaze away from Kyra--with effort, or so it seemed to Willow--and settled herself into a chair, slouching back and crossing on ankle loosely over her knee. The child-like expression was gone.
"So...Anybody feelin' suicidal?" she asked conversationally.
"You know, you have very little tact," Anya said, with what was clearly an absolute lack of irony. Silence greeted this accusation, and then Giles cleared his throat.
"Though Faith's question is perhaps lacking in subtlety, it is a valid one. It seems imperative that we all be aware of any sudden changes in our mood; any sense that we aren't...ourselves."
"The victims...Nobody close to them noticed anything, right?" Tara asked, looking up.
"No," Giles promptly replied. "And all but one of them were in significant relationships--solid ones, from all reports. So it's unlikely that such a change would have gone unnoticed."
"Which would make it seem like a pretty sudden thing, then," Willow noted, trying to pull her attention away from Faith and focus on the issue at hand. "I mean, descent into a despair so profound that ending your life seemed like the only option--ya gotta think the mate's gonna notice."
"If something like that hit you, I'd know almost as soon as you did," Tara said, looking at Willow intently.
"You too," Willow said, feeling her throat tighten.
I know when the evening news has hit you extra hard, Baby. I can feel you to the bone.
She looked back at the group to see Faith shoot a quick glance from her to Tara, then shift in her chair as she caught Willow's eye.
"So...seems like this bad boy--or girl--works pretty quickly," Xander mused.
"We still don't know, though, whether there's any physical presence," Giles interjected. "Does this malevolent force actually manifest corporeally, or simply exert mental control from a distance?"
"And he just said...?" Xander asked, looking as he always did to Willow for clarification.
"Bad thing show up in person, or just whack telepathically?"
"Thank you."
"I don't suppose we'd be lucky enough to have a common object among them," Buffy asked, half-hopefully. "No packages delivered from a fake address; no dining at the same restaurant the night before..."
"Right," Faith put in. "This evil force sends absolute, gut-wrenching despair by way of shrimp scampi."
"Hey, that's really helpful, Faith," Buffy said brightly. "Almost as helpful as your own ideas and theories...Oh, wait--you don't have any."
"Sorry, B," Faith shrugged. "Just tryin' to picture hell on the half-shell."
Faith apologized? I mean, even sort of apologized? What's going on here?
The Dark Slayer didn't seem demoralized by this, however; she had moved on. "Well, Giles--any such luck? Any quote unquote mysterious thread connecting our victims?"
"Aside from their genuine commitment to doing good, it would appear not," the Watcher said regretfully. "There's no evidence that any of them were friends, though some or all of them may well have met at various philanthropic functions. They all lived and worked in different areas of town, and there's no sign that any of them belonged to the same faith congregation or any other social group. And insofar as actual objects are concerned, I certainly can't discern or imagine what that might be." At this, he rubbed his eyes and stared off.
An uncomfortable silence ensued, broken shrilly by the ringing of Anya's cell phone, beeping out the chorus to "Money, Money, Money." They all jumped slightly, and then Anya glanced at the caller ID.
"Ooh--it's D'Andre, from the Business Guild," she said excitedly. "I should take this." So saying, she stepped into the training room.
"Anya knows people in the Sunnydale Small Business Guild?" Tara asked in surprise.
"Anya is in the Guild," Giles replied with a rueful smile. "The moment she learned of it, she insisted that it was the perfect civic opportunity."
"She's been a member for over a year; says she's gonna run for office next year," Xander added proudly.
"Treasurer?" Willow asked innocently.
"Need you ask?" came the dry reply.
All joking stopped, however, at the sight of Anya reappearing before them. The ex-demon looked shakier than Willow had ever seen her; at least, outside of a major battle.
"Ahn...?" Xander had risen and moved to his wife's side. "What is it?"
"It's Trevor," she said flatly.
"Trevor...?" Xander asked hesitantly.
"Trevor St. Andrews," Anya said sharply, glaring at him. "I talked about him."
"Right," Xander replied hastily, though Willow suspected he didn't actually recognize the name. "What about him?"
But Willow already knew; she could tell Tara did as well, from the wrenching look her partner gave her.
"He's dead." And with the words, she walked shakily over to the table and sat down.
"He killed himself, didn't he?" Dawn asked quietly.
"Yes." Anya reached out an unsteady hand to grab her glass of water, then withdrew it. "His partner found him in their home. He hanged himself in the attic."
"And we have reason to believe that this was not an ordinary suicide?" Giles asked, then shook his head. "As if any suicide is ordinary..."
Anya shrugged, and brushed at her eyes. "He was one of the better people I've ever known, and I've been around for a long, long time." She looked up at Xander. "He bought the Espresso Pump last year. His employees loved him, from what I hear--better than average pay; managed to work in some benefits. And he insisted on going fair trade, even though it cost him to do it." She smiled suddenly. "I ran a few numbers for him; told him he'd keep a good profit margin even doing it half-way: make the visible effort, but hold onto some of the old producers...But Trevor wouldn't hear of it. I once asked him just what kind of capitalist he thought he was, and he said, 'The kind that doesn't need to retire at 40 because I've gouged and cheated everyone I came into contact with.' And the way he said it...Well, I thought that was...admirable."
With the words, Willow realized that for all of her financial ferocity, Anya really did respect what St. Andrews stood for, the integrity he showed.
"Plus he was active in a bunch of volunteer stuff," Anya continued. "The food bank; breast cancer funding. And I don't mean the occasional check and appearances at fundraisers. He was involved; he worked."
"He was involved in breast cancer research?" Willow asked, surprised. She looked at Tara, whose own mother had died from breast cancer, and wondered what she must be feeling.
"I asked him about that, too," Anya replied. "I said, 'I should think a gay man like you would be working for AIDS money. Did someone you love die from breast cancer?' He seemed a little startled at first--you know, gave me that look I've seen about a thousand times since losing my powers--but then he said he hadn't. He said that so many lesbians had worked for AIDS causes that he thought it might be nice to give a little something back."
As Anya talked, Willow could feel something shift in her thinking, her attitude. Before, it had been another problem that they would need to solve--a sad problem, to be sure, and somewhat different in nature, but a problem nonetheless that they would need to research and resolve. The risk of their personal involvement, of course, had put a different light on it, but even then the fear had been mixed with familiarity: they were at risk, just in a new way. But it was clear that Anya had been very fond of Trevor St. Andrews; felt his loss and mourned it. Even Willow, who had never met the man, realized that someone special had been taken away.
"And now he's killed himself," Buffy said flatly.
"With a little help--directly, or indirectly," Willow added. Looking at Anya, she felt a gentleness for the ex-demon that she had never experienced before.
A very uncomfortable silence prevailed for several minutes. Finally Anya broke in, "This is just unacceptable. I mean, yes--innocent people suffer all the time. Usually, though, we don't know them so we save them because it's the right thing to do. But Trevor was a good man, and I knew him. And I want to inflict harm on whoever did this to him."
"We'll figure it out, Ahn," Xander said gently. "We'll go to his funeral and we'll pay our respects to his partner and we'll find out what happened."
Anya just nodded and rested her head briefly against Xander's chest. Another painful silence filled the room as everyone considered this new development and Anya's obvious distress. The group had always looked at Anya with a certain curiosity--her bluntness, her seeming avarice, her unwillingness or inability to learn the niceties of social behavior. They knew she loved Xander, but other "soft" emotions seemed a rarity. Had it made them see her as somehow less human? A strong personality, to be sure; but not terribly...deep? If so, they had clearly been mistaken. Anya was grieving this man.
"I'm sorry, Anya." Tara's soft voice filled the room. "He sounds like a good man; and it sounds like he liked you. I'm sorry you won't have more time to get to know him."
Anya's eyes, looking at Tara, were bright, glittering. "Thank you," she said softly. "You're just a remarkably kind woman, Tara."
All of us can slay demons, but Tara's the one who knows how to heal. And then she caught Faith looking at Tara again with that same searching gaze, and her anger flared anew. What do you want with my family?
"Ahn, honey, do you wanna go home?" Xander asked, stroking his wife's hair.
But Anya straightened abruptly, and rubbed an impatient hand across her eyes. "No. I want to find out who's doing this and what this prophecy is all about and I want to exact a little revenge. No, not of the demonic variety," she added, as if expecting the reaction that was indeed forming in the room. "I mean old-fashioned justice, meted out in human form."
"Then let's get to it," Tara replied, her voice soft but very strong. Kyra had been watching Tara intently during this, and now nestled up against her. Tara pulled her close and kissed her dark hair, the stood and walked over to the back shelf of books. "I think we may have some works here that we haven't checked yet."
Tara's actions served as a kind of catalyst for the rest of them. Willow moved to join Tara, while Dawn bent back over her book. Giles stood, clutching an old text with the title "Dementia Externalis" etched in crimson. "I'm going to make some tea. Would anyone else care for some?"
"Howzabout some bourbon, straight up?" Faith asked. Willow noticed that Faith had been quiet during Anya's revelation and reaction. She didn't know the ex-demon except to realize that she probably didn't like her and that this was probably due to Faith having devirginized Xander. Well, and trying to kill him later, Willow thought, but she suspected one was very close to the other in Anya's moral universe. Did Faith feel any compassion for her? Any abstract sense of loss over the death?
"I drank all the booze," Dawn replied, looking at Faith.
"Oh really? You've been growing up with a bang, haven't you?" Faith asked drily.
You don't know the half of it...But you will.
"Yeah, well, they were just so glad to get me off the meth, they didn't complain much." Dawn regarded Faith with an odd mixture of openness and challenge. Willow "remembered" how Dawn had idoloized the Dark Slayer. Did any of that remain?
"In that case, I think I'll grab a soda. You got any around here, or do I need to make a run?"
"Actually, I think we're out," Giles said. "We usually have some in the refrigerator, but Dawn goes through it. Mixes the Coke with her rum, you see."
"Gotcha. Well, there's a convenience store on the corner. Anybody want anything?" Faith pushed her chair back and began to head toward the door.
"I'll go with you." Dawn announced, and Willow stole a glance at Buffy. Whoa...I don't think that's the scenario she had in mind.
"Gonna protect me against all the scary things between here and the corner?" Faith asked, looking at Dawn with amusement. "I can handle myself."
"I'm sure you often do." Dawn replied cooly. Willow saw Buffy drop her head as if completely engrossed in her book. "I just feel like getting out of here for a few."
Faith looked at her for a moment more, then shrugged. "B, OK if little sis takes a walk with someone of my reputation?"
Was she being sarcastic? Or did she really want Buffy to be alright with Dawn accompanying her?
Willow watched Buffy struggle with the decision for a moment, before shrugging with what she knew to be feigned nonchalance. "I'm sure you know that if anything happens--"
"You'll throw me down and have at it. Check." Faith turned and headed toward the door.
Well that was a weird way of putting it...
Faith and Dawn left, and Xander turned to his friend. "Buffy, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, I know Dawn's gonna 'let it slip' that she was the Key, but still..." They had filled in Xander and Anya about the plan when they first arrived that night. Anya thought it made perfect sense ("She'll yammer it to every demon between here and San Luis Obispo," she declared confidently and, Willow thought, at tad happily) while Xander was more concerned. Eventually, though, he had seen its advantages.
"No, I think the entire idea is a bad one," Buffy replied. "But it seems like events have already been put into motion." And here she glared at Giles, who stood with his back to them.
"Buffy, I can feel your disapproving gaze and really, it's unnecessary," the Watcher said with great dignity. "Though I agree that Dawn's decision to leave with Faith is a bit...unexpected."
"If they're not back in ten minutes," Buffy said, "I'm going after them."
"Well that doesn't make much sense," Anya replied. "Faith could have totally killed her by then." As Buffy looked up aghast, she hastily added, "More importantly, though, she doesn't have any reason to. She may think the information's useful, but hurting Dawn would make no sense."
"Right...because Faith's actions always adhere to the strictest rules of balance and rationality," Buffy said through gritted teeth, and Willow could tell her friend was already regretting not calling a halt to Dawn's exit.
Tara sat down next to Buffy, holding Kyra on her lap. "Buffy, you have to let her do this. Let's face it--Dawn's got a will like yours. She goes on instinct. If you had shot her down on this, or forbid her from going with Faith in full view of all of us, she'd just come up with something more dangerous, just to prove she could do it."
"Does the girl have to take every risk she sees?" Buffy stood, and walked over to the window, peering out into the relative darkness of a Sunnydale street.
"Yeah--her role models are such cautious people," Willow said drily.
"Hey, there's a difference between risks taken in the line of duty and ones that you just pluck off the existential cafeteria counter," Buffy said heatedly. "She's got to learn the difference."
"Yes, let's all shout about this," Giles interrupted, stirring milk in his tea. "That way when they return, Faith will be able to hear all about the plan from several feet away and then act with her customary volatility." He looked down at Buffy, his eyes gentle. "I share your concern. If they're not back within ten minutes, one of us will go after them, alleging a desire for some unique convenience store delicacy."
"Ooh--those hot dogs," Xander enthused. "With a little cheese sauce, and..." He looked around. "What--don't tell me you've never tried them."
The anxiety and back-up planning proved unnecessary. Dawn and Faith returned a few minutes later. Willow tried to assess the teenager's mood, but Dawn was simply smiling around big slugs of her grape Slushie.
"Everything go OK?" Buffy asked anxiously.
"Just like clockwork," Faith replied with small salute. "We walked to the store, made our selections, paid for them, and returned." She glanced at Dawn. "There was one kinda tense moment--"
"What happened?" Buffy demanded, her mouth tightening dangerously.
"Well, it's hard to talk about...See, Dawn thought they were out of grape flavoring."
"You know how I am about my Slushies," Dawn cut in.
"I'm tellin' ya, B, you coulda cut the tension with a knife. But they refilled it, Dawn stood down, and we made our way safely back up the street," Faith finished, taking a swig from her Coke.
Willow knew it would look suspicious if the meeting closed immediately after this, but it was hard to focus when all she wanted to do was hear the details. She didn't doubt for an instant that Dawn had played her part, but how had Faith reacted?
After another half an hour of increasingly frustrating research--they were still coming up empty--Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. "I think we should call it a night. I'll call Wesley later, and discuss the situation, but frankly I think we're all exhausted.
"Oh, but I hate to stop reading the dusty volumes of ancient, cryptic works that leave me feeling even more inadequate than usual," Xander said with faux regret.
"There is one other point, however," Giles continued. "As Faith brought to our attention, we must be especially vigilant about our own moods and mental states. We must rely not only on our own self-awareness, but on that of those closest to us--each other. This is especially true for people who live together."
"So we're supposed to watch each other like psycho-hawks?" Buffy asked doubtfully. "I mean, I get that we need to be on our mental toes, but couldn't we get just a little wiggy from the observation itself?"
"Right," Willow chimed in. "Like, there's all this evidence in quantum physics that shows how just the act of observing something affects that thing's behavior and lots of social scientists say that that totally applies to humans, only more so, and here I'll stop going on and on about this but you get the idea." She looked over to see Tara gazing at her affectionately.
"I appreciate your point," Giles nodded. "I don't mean to suggest that we place each other under 24-hour observation. Indeed, it actually helps that the suicides were so sudden. There's less risk of subtle changes that go undetected. No, I'm thinking more of trying to be with one another as much as possible."
"What about you?" Dawn asked, turning to the person who had been more of a father than the man who thought he actually was, but never bothered to call.
"I spend most of my days here, and I often see all or some of you in the evening," he replied, smiling at her fondly.
"But there's still empty space in that schedule," Buffy countered. "You live alone; you sleep alone."
"You don't know that," Giles said indignantly.
"The blow-up doll can't talk," Faith said. "Girl's got a point."
"What about you, Faith?" Tara asked softly. Willow felt the anger creeping back up over her. Why had Tara been the one to point it out? Why had Tara thought of it?
Faith suddenly seemed uncomfortable again, but moved to cover it with her typical bravado. "Hey, nobody's gonna hack into this brain. I don't think I qualify."
"That's debatable," Giles replied quietly. "Yes, you've made many serious mistakes, Faith, and you've hurt a great many people. But the mere fact that you're working with us now makes you a possible target."
If she is working with us...
"Seriously, kids, I don't think--"
"Why don't you move in with Giles?" Dawn suggested brightly.
Exclamations of "What? I seriously doubt--" mingled with "Are you mental? No way." General confusion reigned for a moment before Buffy broke in.
"I think it's a good idea." She gazed at Giles for a long moment, and Willow realized that her purpose was two-fold: first, and most importantly, was to keep Giles safe. But if Faith were living with him, it would also make it much more difficult for her to pull off any betrayals or suspicious maneuvers.
Giles seemed to grasp her point, and he sat down heavily. "I...I suppose you may be right," he managed, looking at Faith.
"I think you just wanna put the moves on me," Faith said, tossing her head.
"And if you'll excuse me, I need to stock up on antibiotics in hopes of protecting myself from the ungodly infections you've no doubt picked up in your travels," the Watcher retorted sharply. "Just sharing glassware probably renders me vulnerable to syphilis."
"Yeah? You ask me, a good case of the clap might lighten you up, G-Man. 'cuz it's pretty clear..."
Gradually, though, both of them settled into the idea, albeit with great reluctance.
"It must be understood, however, that I won't have strange men traipsing in and out at all hours of the night," Giles warned her.
"No problem, trust me," Faith retorted. "You just make sure you put the toilet seat down."
"What? In my own home? I shall do whatever I want with my toilet."
"Didn't need to hear it, Giles; really didn't..."
The two of them left much the same way, with Giles driving Faith to her hotel to pick up her few belongings. Willow watched them go, bickering as they went.
"And again I ask--is this a good idea?" Xander stared after them worriedly. "I mean, we're still not sure Faith's with us for real. What if she plans to hurt him?"
"Giles wouldn't agree to it if he didn't trust her at least that much," Buffy argued, though Willow wasn't sure of that. She knew how much Giles would risk to keep them all safe.
"How do we even know Faith isn't behind all of this?" she asked bluntly.
"Because Angel sent her. We know that," Buffy replied flatly. "And I...I called him myself earlier today." They all looked at her in surprise. "I needed to hear it from him," she went on as if she hadn't noticed their looks. "He really believes in her; believes she's doing the Atonement Tour and fighting the good fight. I don't like it, but I believe him. At least, I believe he believes it...And let's face it, he knows a thing or two about atonement and second chances." She looked at them. "I think it's worth it. And with her there, Giles won't get thrown into the Pit of Despair without someone noticing it." Then she shook her head and sighed. "Believe me, people--I am not entirely comfortable with this."
"I think she's sincere," Tara said suddenly. "It's more a feeling than anything, and I'm not saying we let our guard down, but I think she really wants to help out here."
There was a silence while everyone considered this. Since Tara had joined their group, it was clear that she had earned particular respect for her ability to read people. It was an intuitive feel, honed by experience, that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with her essence. It was something that Willow absolutely loved about her partner. So why was she so annoyed right now?
"Dawn, what did you find out?" Buffy asked. "Did you talk to her?"
Her sister nodded. "We were just walking along, and I was making small talk about how it's always so crazy around here and nothing is ever what it seems to be." She paused. "I thought that was just a very nice ironic touch, given the circumstances."
"It would make a good story," Tara commended her.
"I hope so. Anyway, she's basically agreeing with me; talking about how living around here prepares you for anything except happiness. She seemed kind of embarrassed after she said that, come to think of it....So I say, 'Yeah--you'd think that being a Key would have me immune to shock.' And then I stopped suddenly, and she says, 'Being the key to what?' And I just sorta muttered that I meant Buffy was the key--key to stopping evil, key to fighing vampires. But I could tell she wasn't buying it. She says, 'Either that was a Freudian slip and fishnets, or you just said something you shouldn't have.' And I act all agitated and offer up some really lame explanations, but I can tell she's not buying it."
"And she 'coaxes' you into telling her," Buffy said, a grim set to her mouth.
"No! That's just it!" Dawn said, leaning forward excitedly. "I'm getting ready to spill, and she stops me! She says, 'Listen, kid--I dunno what's going on, but I do know you're not supposed to be talking about it. So--don't talk about it.' I couldn't believe it. I started in, saying that I really didn't mean anything by it, and she just stops right there in the middle of the street, grabs me by the shoulders--man, that girl is strong!--and says, 'I mean it. Don't talk about it. Whatever it is, it's not supposed to hit the airwaves. Let's just drop it.' She stares at me, like she's really wanting to make her point, and then she just turns and shoves her hands in her coat pocket and asks what I'm getting at the store. Man, she was so cool!"
And the adoration is back, Willow thought. She looked at Tara and her heart sank. Her partner was smiling at the news.
*****
[/b]TO BE CONTINUED[/b]
) ~mary
I see your smiley girl heart and raise you a burstin from the seams. You say you miss writing? That's probably because writers write, period, and when we don't, everything is off more or less. You have adjusted back into the groove of your cosmic calling and all is right with the world...at least it will be better once we take back the House next year and start impeachment proceedings for a host of weasel and vermin...but I digress. I am well and thanks for asking. Now, to the story...Morally, I know what Willow is doing with her "unpermissioned borrowing" is supposed to be wrong, but dammit, it felt right and reminds me of the song from the Tank Girl soundtrack, how can something this wrong feel this good...I second that emotion...and personally, character flaw this may be of mine, I'd robin hood those "human beings" too had I the stealth to do so. Which brings me to say, I can't believe how much I like Dawn...when you write her. Buckeye to buckeye, I'm glad you're back.
Before I give feedback LOL at the remembered use of my favorite word and yes it still makes me giggle although I still haven't worked out why lol. The wife and family is all good which is amazing as we (2 adults, 2 kids, 3 dogs, 2 cats and 2 horses) just moved from CA to MA in the last month. The horses are settling in and loving the fact that the have grass here. I start college for a Nursing Degree this month which is kind of scary especially the fact that I have a math exam I need 100% on! I think I need to channel Willow that day. How are you doing?
GOLD!
need to think more. Cos at the edge of my mind, I'm thinking this is how the big bad works -- the paranoia and expectation and questioning ... that leads to depression and despair ... I may be on the wrong track, I need to think a little more on this.