Fic: - The Sidestep Chronicle & Second Chronicle

[Katharyn]

I can assure there is something suitably impressive in the pipeline for Darla. I think you might end up hating someone else more first though.

And yes, I remember your Oz suggestion.

Not sure if I still have it, but I'll have a look and may post it for curiosity value, kind of a Behind the Scenes special feature!

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle – Back in Town (Part 201)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Tara recognises a face from the past.
Disclaimer: I 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. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: Okay, I’ve been saying it for a while – things are really stepping up a gear from here on in.
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Back In Town

By

Katharyn Rosser



No, that was horrible.

And see, this one was too big.

On the other hand, that one was too small.

And while that was just right, it was also too expensive.

Too expensive and too fragile when there were kids around. Big kids and little kids.

Hmm, this might do though. Willow picked up one of the mugs from the shelves, wondering how it might fare in their apartment.

They were in dire need of new coffee mugs. What was left of their set was chipped and the rest of them were… uncoordinated. She and Tara had a knack for inheriting coffee pots from people who left them in their apartment. Unfortunately that wasn’t a sound strategy for getting another matching set together.

College life and coffee habits while studying hadn’t been kind to the set they’d been given by Ira. Neither had Toni. Willow was privately convinced the girl couldn’t be breaking all the pots that were going missing. She had to be hording them or something.

Could someone who ran as gracefully as Toni be so klutzy as to keep breaking coffee mugs?

To be fair to the girl, there were probably only three pots missing from the original set. But that was half of it right there.

Then there were the kids, or Faith at least, who interesting idea on just what they should be used for. For all Willow knew one or more of them might be back at the Giles’ holding paint brushes or something.

No more mix and match. They were going coordinated and they were going coordinated today.

They’d worry about the dinner service another time, when they had a few more dollars to spend. Coffee mugs were the cheap end of the dining and beverage enjoyment experience.

She jumped as familiar hands snaked round her waist, resting on her belly. A well-known chin on her shoulder. A very familiar scent to be inhaled.

“Can’t you read?” Willow asked. “No touching.”

“Actually it says that if I break it I have to pay for it,” Tara corrected her, kissing her cheek.

“Hmm, so it does.” Proved wrong again. She really didn’t mind so much in the circumstances. “Like these?” she asked her lover as Tara looked over her shoulder at the coffee pots.

“Obviously you do,” Tara said with another kiss.

“Yup.”

“Then let’s get them.”

“Oh no. No. No. No,” Willow said firmly.

“What?”

She wasn’t getting caught out by that. Not again. “You say you like them, or no ones getting anything.” Tara’s desire to please sometimes even outstripped the curious sense of style her lover possessed. Curious as in very individual, but also very appropriate.

“Willow,” Tara said in that tone that said she was being all silly-bunny again, “they’re fine. Let’s go ask if they have a set.”

But first, Aha! “Fine?”

“Fine,” Tara repeated. “Fine as in fine. Not the best pots in the whole world ever, but more than good enough to grace our kitchen. You know… fine.”

“You said the dessert bowls were fine too, now we don’t use them at all,” Willow accused.

Tara looked at her, and Willow started to feel like the silly-bunny too.

“We hardly ever eat dessert,” Tara pointed out. “And we have cereal bowls we use because they’ll actually hold something.”

“See!” Willow pointed out, trying to defend her side of the argument. “You think they’re so horrible, and small, they’ve driven you away from chocolaty goodness” It sounded ridiculous even as she said, but then this was just a bit of fun.

“Not all desserts are chocolate,” Tara pointed out.

Willow smiled, “I wouldn’t know, we don’t get to have any because you think the bowls are just ‘fine.’”

“Baby,” Tara said. “You, of all people, know I’ll eat anything my girl puts in front of me.”

“I noticed that,” Willow said, grasping the meaning immediately.

“So if you want dessert, you go get us some,” Tara said. “And I’ll eat it. From the bowl. From the table. From your body…”

Actually, that last one had all sorts of promise. Fun with food. Not something they’d experimented much with beyond the eating of grapes and strawberries in bed.

That had been when the phrase ‘getting fruity’ had entered their vocabulary.

Chocolate sounded kinda messy though. They might need plastic sheets or something and how were they going to explain that to Toni? The girl was probably already convinced they were nymphomaniacs. And if you didn’t have that kind of protection you’d either end very sticky, or having to strip the bed down right after and that wasn’t very romantic.

“Go. Buy. Mugs,” Tara instructed.

“Sure?” Willow asked again, wondering just where you might get plastic sheets from and how much they cost.

“Yes. I’m sure. Willow please, go and buy them.”

She took one of the mugs over to the counter, asking the assistant if they had a set already boxed up. But before the woman came back with a reply she saw Tara leaving the store. “Tara? Where are you off to?”

“Chocolate dessert run,” Tara told her.

“I thought you wanted me to go?” she wondered.

“You’re buying mugs,” Tara pointed out.

“Hey, you know I was kidding,” Willow reminded her. Of course they could just eat the dessert. You know, with a spoon. Out of a bowl. No plastic sheets required.

And what were plastic sheets like anyway? Wasn’t that going to get a bit icky, just with sweat and stuff? Would it be making all sorts of noises?

And if Toni did catch them with those, what would she think? Would the best case be she’d assume one of them was prone to… accidents? Or would the best case be thinking they were… nooooo no no.

“No, you weren’t kidding, you want it. And so you’ll have it. Death by chocolate this very night,” Tara threatened.

There were definitely worse ways to go.

And there was no Toni, with her massively active metabolism, to steal any of it either. So that really might be death by chocolate. She went over to the door, kissed her girlfriend. “I was just thinking, I can think of worse ways to go.”

“I can only think of one better,” Tara teased after a moment’s consideration.

They kissed once more, ignoring the looks of the people around them. Now probably wasn’t the time to wonder aloud about the possibility of plastic bed sheets and how that might work. Tonight they’d just eat the chocolate.

In a normal kind of way.

“Got your card?” Tara checked.

“Uh-huh, I got it,” Willow acknowledged, wondering if – in fact – there was anywhere in town that might be able to help her out. She could always have a peek, while Tara went for the dessert.

“I’ll pay you back later,” Tara promised, but then looked away and out of the window, as if something had caught her eye. “I’ll see you at… err…” She was craning her head, as if trying to see further down the street through the window.

And she’d lost the plot too.

“The coffee shop?” Willow reminded her, wondering what it might’ve been that Tara had seen. Someone she knew?

Some thing? Always possible in this town.

“Yeah…” Tara said absently. “Sure.”

Willow kissed her again as the assistant came back to the counter. But despite the kiss, Tara still wasn’t back with her. She was absent in thought, somewhere out in the street even though she was stood right here. “Hey? I’m here, kissing you now?”

Now that brought Tara back. “Sorry love,” she made up for it with one more kiss. “I just thought I saw someone.”

“Someone?”

“Someone I used to know,” Tara said and then she was gone.

Weird.

---------------------

Willow’s last kiss had pulled Tara back into that world, the place they occupied together now with their friends, Toni and the kids too.

But she was sure she’d seen someone from the old days… It seemed like another world now, not just another time.

But there was no sign of them now.

So okay, back on track. Death by chocolate? It did have its attractions – but not in those horrible dessert bowls they’d bought the last time they were in the store. Willow was right, she hadn’t liked them – but that wasn’t why they didn’t eat dessert anymore. For chocolate she’d have happily lived with them.

But bowls, mugs and even chocolate weren’t what were on her mind right now. She was still hoping…

As she stepped out of the little pottery store, she was looking around for the person she’d seen from the corner of her eye – just for a moment. But she couldn’t see anyone that looked like them.

Mirage then?

A trick of the eye? Or the mind?

Maybe even someone who’d looked just looked like… yeah; she’d just been reminded of that person. It couldn’t have really been them. Not after all this time and not without any warning. She was just being silly, getting all excited over the idea.

Well, not excited as such – but all alert for sure. She didn’t see a sign of them out in the street though as she headed over to Dessert Delights.

Focus.

Death by chocolate. Trying to prove her point to Willow. That she could use the bowls.

When she had to.

Alabama Fudge Cake or Mississippi Mud Pie? With or without hot caramel sauce? All the chocolate would melt, but that was kind of the point.

Did they need ice-cream?

Or whipped cream?

Almost in a daze she picked up her selections, not really paying that much attention to what she was choosing. Okay, when you weren’t checking what chocolate treats you were having – that was when you were obsessed.

And through the window once again, this time from the dessert store, she thought she saw… no, it couldn’t really be her. And she couldn’t just leave the queue to go outside and see, not when her mind was playing tricks on her.

Besides, she’d promised Willow chocolate. What choice did she have but to provide it? Together with – she looked at what was in her basket – whipped cream.

Willow would be getting ideas about that too, and why she’d bought it. Looking for ulterior – and even more pleasurable – motives.

Tara sighed, content with her woman but frustrated by the line to pay for this stuff when she wanted to be out in the street finding out whether her mind was really playing tricks on her.

Even if they were real, it wasn’t like it was really important. It’d just be nice to see her again.

It took another five minutes to get through the queue of chocoholics before she could emerge with her very large box… just waiting to be opened and to inflict its damage on their cholesterol levels.

And there’d still certainly be some evidence left for Toni. The girl was going to be out with Mal tonight, though she did have a very definite curfew to obey. They’d see how that went before figuring out whether there was chocolate enough for her.

Honestly, there was chocolate enough for everyone they knew here.

Worrying about what Toni was getting up to would have to wait until AC though. After Chocolate.

Heading over to the coffee shop – the last one in town that wasn’t part of a chain – she could see from where her girlfriend was positioned in the window that Willow didn’t have any of the packages she probably should have. She had coffee, but no packages. “Didn’t they have any sweetie?” she asked when she got inside. “Did you order some instead?”

“Yes they did and no I didn’t.”

Ah.

It was going to be like that was it?

“Baby, I liked them, honestly. I really did,” Tara promised her. “They’re better than fine. In fact they’re… good.” Good was a good word. Unlike the ‘fine’ dessert bowls, those really were something she’d like to use.

Why wouldn’t Willow believe that?

Or did she? Without leaning on their connection it was still – after all this time – tough to be one hundred percent certain about what was teasing between them.

She knew Willow felt the same too.

“I know – but I decided it could actually wait in case… maybe… you know…” Willow paused a moment. “It’s nothing to do with being ‘fine.’ It’s just in case we have a different kitchen to match with sometime in the next year or so,” Willow smiled as she finished saying it.

Ah… that. The question of their futures. Now it was impacting on their retail habits?

Willow Rosenberg, always planning ahead. And they did have enough coffee mugs; it was just the lack of matching ones that’d prompted them to shop.

Or at least try to shop.

“Do you think we need to worry about that?” Tara asked, using it as a way into the conversation about a very tough decision they still needed to make.

“There are some really good offers from out east,” Willow sighed, sipping her coffee. “The more I look at them, the more I think they’d be ideal. The financial assistance they’re willing to give – and the areas we’d be able to afford to live in…”

Tara knew, in her heart, that Willow wanted to go and do her post-graduate course… well, not in Sunnydale. And she wouldn’t have had much hesitation in agreeing to that a few months ago.

Some, but not much.

Willow had given so much, joining her in her duty to protect Sunnydale. And now Willow wanted this. As much because it was a way out of the closed loop that this town offered them as because they were good schools that had a lot to offer educationally.

She’d happily transfer her teacher training out there too. It was doable. She hated to put it on them, but if necessary Rupert and Jenny could keep the hunting ticking over. And they could come back for any big-bads.

Willow just wanted them to have choices, and how could she deny them those?

But now there was Toni to think about too.

And they were. They were thinking about her. There were schools, good schools for hearing impaired people out there – and within a reasonable distance of either of the choices for Willow’s post-grad school. She knew because Willow had shown her. She’d done the research.

But tearing Toni away from Sunnydale, the people she knew and the friends she’d made now?

And Mal.

That’d probably be a bad thing.

The question, Tara supposed, was whether they lived their lives, or Toni’s. And to her mind, there was definitely an argument that said once you had kids – and they wanted Toni to join their family in a far more formal way – you had to make sacrifices.

On the other hand everything educational – including for Toni – would be better out east. And sometimes, for the family, you had to go where the opportunities were.

They were going to need to have a proper, sit down, talk about all this. Whether she could transfer her teacher training. Whether Toni was willing to go…

“Will-” she said, and her girlfriend’s eyes said she knew part of what was coming.

“Besides. Who needs retail therapy when there’s chocolate therapy?” Willow said, ignoring it.

Not now then, Willow didn’t want the conversation here in the coffee shop. That was fair enough, as long as they had it some time.

“Of course there’s nothing wrong with both,” Willow continued but Tara was suddenly miles away again. “Chocolate and shopping.”

Out the window.

There was no doubt this time. It was her.

It was… exactly who she thought it’d been. She pushed the cake box into Willow’s hand, and didn’t even warn her about dipping a finger in the chocolate cream before she ran out into the street.

“Except on our bank account,” Willow finished as she left, looking and sounding confused.

It was… a friend she hadn’t seen in some time.

Willow called after her, “Baby?”

Tara paused. She supposed she did need to explain herself. “Enjoy your coffee, I’ll be right back. Get me a mocha.”

“A mocha? Another one? But you didn’t touch the first one yet. Where are you going?” Willow called after her.

Tara didn’t answer. Lizzie was back in town, her friend.

The woman who’d been the former mayor’s secretary over thirty or forty years of service. A woman who must’ve known what he was… just as Tara had when she’d come to work for him.

That was probably why they’d been able to ignore it and become the friends that they had.

-------------------

She came up behind the older woman, spoke her name and then repeated it more loudly when Lizzie didn’t respond. Could she have been wrong? No. This was Lizzie, even down to the way she walked.

And when the woman did finally turn, it was her… More tanned, looking healthier than she’d ever seen the sexagenarian. But still, undoubtedly, Lizzie.

“Tara?”

She smiled, pleased to be recognised – though it hadn’t been that long. Four, nearly five years since they’d met in person.

“Oh my goodness.” They hugged instinctively and without reserve. Back when she’d been working for the Mayor, Lizzie had taken it upon herself to quietly look after her. Making sure she was eating right during the day. Checking she was alright after a big night hunting.

Just being there – concerned.

Kind of like a granny.

Tara hadn’t even realised she was doing it for a long time, but she was glad Lizzie had.

“When did you get back in town?” Tara asked.

“Just yesterday,” Lizzie told her, their hands still clasped.

“Are you visiting? Or –?”

“No, I’m back for good,” the older woman said with a smile. “That’s why I’m shopping now. I ate out after I arrived last night but you know how I am,” Lizzie shrugged to show the bags in her hands.

“A meal isn’t a meal unless you cooked it yourself,” Tara intoned.

“That’s it,” Lizzie said, smiling warmly. “I never held with restaurants except on special occasions.”

“Coming back to Sunnydale was a special occasion,” Tara suggested.

“Perhaps it was.”

“Let me take some of those for you,” Tara offered, still not quiet able to believe Lizzie was back in town. It seemed weird, like something from another life. Another world. But Lizzie – despite her ties to the Mayor – had always been on the right side of the supernatural divide.

Human, caring. Determined to do her best.

Her only crime had been her devoted service to a man who hadn’t wanted to be a man at all.

“Oh, thank you dear,” Lizzie handed some bags over and Tara marvelled at the fingers that had once been bent with arthritis. It seemed that wherever the Mayor had managed to send her as part of his legacy it’d worked miracles.

In the same way he’d left she and Willow the apartment and tuition money, he’d left Lizzie a bequest to get her arthritis seen to. By mystical means, it had been suggested. But Tara didn’t regard that as a frivolous use of power – helping someone with the pain was never a bad thing. Especially someone like Lizzie.

“You’ll have to come over some time soon and let us cook for you,” Tara offered.

“You and Willow?” Lizzie checked.

Honestly, that was what she’d wanted Lizzie to get from the offer. To show her she was with Willow now – a better Willow than Lizzie had probably ever heard of. She’d wanted that right out there – to prove she was living her life now in the best way.

But without just coming out and saying it.

Lizzie had always been so worried about her ‘relationship’ with the Willow that’d existed back then. Rightly so.

“Was there ever any doubt?” Tara asked, suddenly wondering if this woman held her employers death against Willow? Or against her? They were both guilty.

There’d been no sign of it in the correspondence they’d shared over the last few years, but they hadn’t been face to face for a long time either.

“There was a time she didn’t seem like the best thing for you dear,” Lizzie said with typical honesty.

Tara blushed. She had to give Lizzie the point.

There’d been times she’d come into the Mayors office bruised and scratched. Times she’d seen the concern in Lizzie’s eyes. She’d answered the questions from a woman who cared and avoided the curious looks of those who really didn’t.

Lizzie had even applied a little make up for her… to hide the worse of the damage if she’d been wearing a short sleeve top or something that showed where there’d been a particularly fierce grip on her.

Yes, she’d been ashamed at that time. Ashamed of all sorts of things.

Yes, back then Willow hadn’t been the best thing for her. Not at all.

Even though… even though Willow had always been the only thing – the only person for her. Back then she’d been taking all she could get. Now it was different. Willow was all she wanted.

Of course Lizzie hadn’t left town until after Willow was back, but the two had never met. She’d never known the real Willow. So she’d never really understood what had led her to accept the abuse of the vampire.

There were the letters they’d exchanged over the years. And did someone who hated your girlfriend send you postcards addressed to the two of them? Or birthday gifts for her? No… Lizzie had no problem with either of them, even if she knew exactly what’d happened to the old Mayor.

“You never said you were coming back though!” Tara admonished her oldest friend from the town.

“I really didn’t know the last time I wrote you,” Lizzie assured her. “Otherwise you know I’d have said.”

So it’d been a sudden decision.

“You could’ve still come around,” Tara accused gently. “Or called to say you were back in town. I know you’ve got our number.”

“And I have a note to do just that,” Lizzie promised her as they walked into the car park where she must’ve left her car.

“You are okay aren’t you?” Tara asked, wondering if it might have been a result of taking a bad turn, this desire to return home to a place she knew. “Is it the arthritis?”

Or something else?

“I’m fine dear, I’ve even been writing some stories,”

“Really?” Tara asked.

Lizzie had been talking about those, her stories, as long as she’d known her. But writing – or even typing had been largely out of the question for so long. All she’d been doing when Tara had known her before was dictating them to a machine. And because she’d never been confident enough to let anyone else transcribe them for her, they’d never made it onto paper.

“Really, though of course those will have to wait for a while now,” Lizzie confirmed.

“So what does bring you back? I mean, if you’ve moved back in to your old place then you must be back for a while…” Lizzie would’ve had to move the tenants out and everything – not something you did for a few weeks or months visit.

“Of course dear, I’m back for as long as I’m needed. Why else would I be back in Sunnydale?” Lizzie asked as Tara lifted the shopping bags into the trunk of her car.

“Huh?” Had she missed something along the way?

“He asked me to come back, of course – and after all he’d done for me I could hardly say no could I?” Lizzie said it as if Tara should’ve known all about it. It even sounded as if Lizzie expected her to be in on… whatever it was.

Unfortunately she really didn’t and she definitely wasn’t involved.

At least she didn’t think she was.

“Sorry, who did?”

“Him – who else would I come back here for?”

“You mean…?”

Horrible thoughts raced through Tara’s head, because she knew exactly who Lizzie meant now. The way she’d said ‘him’ in the much the same way Willow did when they talked about her dreams.

But Lizzie had more affection in her tone.

Of course there were plans he might’ve put in place.

Every so often something would happen at City Hall, a box would arrive or something that showed just how far in advance he’d been making his plans. When they did, the mail room knew they had to call her. They’d learned the hard way that opening those boxes was a bad idea – even for a security check.

Was this another example of his forward planning? Asking Lizzie to do something for him – to come back and take care of something… even though he was long since dead and in the ground?

His will… She’d never actually seen the will, even though she and Willow had been beneficiaries of it. She wouldn’t have put it past him to know he was going to be dead and arrange for things to keep happening… In fact she knew he had.

But why?

“Was it in the will? Something he wanted you to come back and do for him?” she asked.

Lizzie looked at her as if she’d just said the strangest thing. “Oh no, dear. He called me last week.”

Last week? Ohh, they had they’re wires crossed… something else, someone else. It must be. He was dead. And to the best of her knowledge they didn’t have phones in whatever hell dimension he’d have ended up in.

“Mayor Wilkins,” Lizzie clarified. “Well, obviously he’s not the Mayor anymore, but he still has an office to run.”

The Mayor?

She really meant him?

And he called Lizzie last week?

Oh by the goddess…

***************

[Katharyn]

Double posted in error.

Katharyn

[Forrister]

Ah! The nesting instinct. The desire to make a nice place for the purpose of creating a home for an impending child. Ok, in this case the child is a teen who will be an adult in a mere few years, but the principle is the same. Willow is cute with her little crockery obsession, operating on her usual mix of logic, lateral thought, and boundless enthusiasm. I like to see them both this happy. I know this will probably be one of the last unclouded little interludes before the whole tale is resolved

The arrival of a face from the past is the first small cloud of the mighty storm that is coming to town. Watching Tara trying to explain this to Willow will be interesting. It surprised me that Lizzie didn't know Tara wasn't aware of the re-appearance of Richard. Perhaps he didn't think to tell her - or . . . . more deviously, he knew very well she would tell Tara he was back - and counted on it. Hmmm . . . . to be seen later I think.

Forrister

Omnia iam fient fieri quae posse negabam.
Everything which I said could not happen will happen now.

[Katharyn]

Hi hun. I love that you can read things into this I never thought of!

Nesting instinct? That's so wonderful I might have to make use of it somewhere! TBH I put them in a shop because they needed to see Lizzy. I chose a crockery shop because I'd just broken a mug here at home! Still, I'm, not going to deny that - subconciously - you might well be right.

Also it was great for Willowisms and you have to love those. And yes, unaffected happiness is kind of running out a little. Or at least it'll be sporadic, but that's the drama of the story. Where it'll end will be better. I promise.

Talking of ends, I horrified myself by creating a file called Sidestep 3 yesterday. Ye gads. Full of juicy ideas to continue this story with a gap of around a decade, maybe more, so I could explore W/T lives at that point. Needless to say I slapped myself hard and took the sanity drugs, writing all that and expecting 2 or 3 readers to stick around for another year or so... eek. I think, actually, that might become the epilogue to this. I always intended one, to look back from a decade in the future and round things off. Maybe now I'll talk about stuff that happened in between a little more.

A face from the past... It's such teasing fun! Also it's a good story mechanism. I've given Lizzie some outside interests as well though... Well, at least I will when I write them.

Thanks hun, next part on the 9th (after which I MAY be speeding up posting a little. I've built up a nice cushion, so I'll evaluate that then. Maybe every 7 or 8 days, rather than 10.)

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - Checking (Part 202)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Tara tells Willow about her talk with Lizzie.
Disclaimer: I 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. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: I’m hoping the latter stages of this part work. I dislike the idea that no matter what else is happening in a fic, the girls must have sex regularly. In some ways I’m guilty of this, I suggest they are about to go off and make love quite a lot. But sometimes, shocking as it seems, you just don’t. Even if you’re in an intimate situation.
Godzilla belongs to some guy who lives in Japan, I just mentioned him/her/it.
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Checking

By

Katharyn Rosser


“Hi again,” Willow said happily, curiosity was burning inside her though. Why had Tara run out like that? Who’d she seen? “I didn’t get you another Mocha, since I’d already got one and all, and it’s still just the way you like it. You know, just cooler.”

Tara started to come around the rail to her, not saying anything.

“I haven’t seen you run out of somewhere so fast since that guy at Jill’s party hit on – ” she continued.

Then she got a good look at Tara’s face. She didn’t need to reach out and touch her girlfriend to know something was wrong. Badly wrong. As Tara came closer she could feel it, rolling off her girlfriend in waves through their connection.

Heck, even someone who wasn’t in love with and intimately connected to Tara would probably have been able to tell, it was so obvious.

“What is it?” she asked.

Tara kept looking around – through the queue of people at the counter, out of the windows. At all those sat down like Willow already was. As if she was expecting someone to be there, but then not finding him or her so she looked to the next face, and the next and so on.

There was something else too…

“What baby?” she repeated. “What’s wrong?”

Still no answer, and now she recognised in Tara something she hadn’t seen for a very long time. Her girlfriend was actually scared.

Not scared for her or even for everyone in general – those kinds of fears happened when you lived on a Hellmouth and had a girlfriend.

Tara, herself, was scared and that was something even the vampire had never really succeeded in achieving. Much as the vampire had tried, it’d never really made Tara afraid for herself.

And it must all have started when Tara saw someone outside and went after them? There wasn’t any other explanation for this sudden change.

“Baby, who did you see?” she asked.

It was broad daylight, they were in the middle of town and there wasn’t any mad panic out going on. It wasn’t like Godzilla was thundering down main street and swatting tanks out of his way was it?

So what could Tara – vampire-and-assorted-demon killer extraordinaire – have seen that could’ve bothered her so? Something that obviously no one else had or least anyone who had wasn’t bothered about.

In broad daylight though? Most demons, even though who weren’t bothered by sunlight, came out at night. Willow was privately convinced a lot of them did so because it was traditional and they had no use for daylight – even if Tara theorised some pretty deep-seated psychological reasons for it on a species by species basis.

So what was it?

“Lizzie,” Tara said quietly, looking around as if someone might’ve been listening in and been bothered by the word. Or was she still looking for…

Wait a second.

Lizzie?

Willow knew she must’ve looked surprised, even though she’d been making an effort not to be. Tara was spooked enough by… Lizzie?

She knew she’d done the sitting back in her chair and eyes wide thing though. “Just so we’re clear, you mean sweet-little-arthritic-retired-secretary, always-remembers-birthdays-and-holidays Lizzie?” she checked.

As if there was any other.

It didn’t seem quite like a disaster as they knew them though – Lizzie, even if she turned into a megalomaniac, wasn’t likely to do anything more threatening than cook the world a giant dinner and send everyone birthday and greeting cards in plenty of time.

“Yeah, that Lizzie. She’s back town,” Tara confirmed.

“And we're saying that’s not a good thing?” Willow asked slowly, failing to see the bad entirely.

She didn’t really know the woman personally. Back when Tara had worked for the Mayor she hadn’t spent a lot of time in City Hall where his secretary had worked. Lizzie had always seemed sweet though.

Willow had received a hand-made change purse from her on her last birthday, and there were cards for both of them at every holiday.

“No,” Tara said firmly. “Well, yes.”

“But no?” Willow added. It didn’t take a mental and emotional connection to sense the hesitation in her girlfriend. Tara was glad Lizzie was back because this was her friend they were talking about. But somehow she wasn’t pleased, and the key to this was the reason for that displeasure.

“Yes. I mean no…”

“Which is it lover?” Willow asked.

“It’s good she’d back,” Tara said slowly and deliberately. “Oh, I invited her to dinner too,” Tara said, suddenly brighter as she remembered that little fact.

“That’s nice,” Willow replied, and it helped her relax a little.

In general they didn’t invite people to dinner who were going to do bad things in the world. It was a little rule they had. Jenny didn’t count – she was only ever teasing, devastating as her wit could be.

“Yeah. Nice,” Tara repeated.

Willow waited, so they were inviting the woman whose appearance had actually scared Tara to dinner and there must be more to it all than that… “Sooo?”

Tara sighed. “It’s why she’s back that’s the problem.”

“Oh no, she’s not sick is she?” Willow asked. She knew Lizzie’s health hadn’t always been the best – it was part of why she’d gone away and the Mayor had left her the money to go and do something about it.

“Far from it,” Tara assured her. “She’s looking better than I ever saw her before.”

“Tara, come on baby – just tell me what’s wrong.”

Another deep breath from her lover, then the words. “I know why you’ve been dreaming – I mean I think I might. Maybe. Sort of anyway.”

That didn’t sound very definite. “Lizzie?” Willow asked. That didn’t seem to fit the facts though

Okay, Lizzie had been the old Mayor’s secretary, but it hardly explained months of dreams about the woman’s old boss. She hadn’t even had a dream for a few weeks now. The only thing disturbing her sleep was Tara’s gentle snoring.

That was her story, and she was sticking to it. Sometimes, Tara insisted, she woke herself up with her own snores.

She didn’t believe that though. She didn’t snore.

“Him,” Tara said as if it should’ve been obvious. “She’s back for him.”

Willow was confused. “He asked her to do something?”

“Yes,” Tara said. “He asked her to come back.”

“I know we never saw the will, was there something –” The famous last will and testament of Richard Wilkins the Third. It’d set up half a dozen charity foundations, sent Lizzie away to get treatment and paid for their schooling. But they’d never gotten to see it.

So had there been something in it? Some clause that meant Lizzie had to come back now? And if so, why?

“He asked her last week, Tara pointed out.

So he’d asked her last week what did…?

Ohhh… Last week when he was supposed to be dead. Like he’d been supposed to be dead for a few hundred weeks before that. Dead people, as a rule, shouldn’t be asking anything of the living unless a medium was involved.

“Was there a medium involved?” she asked, as the idea occurred to her.

Tara shook her head.

“So he’s…” she lapsed into sign – not wanting to say the word. *Alive?* If she didn’t say it out loud then maybe it wouldn’t be true. She’d tried thinking of Toni telling them she was fooling around with Mal the same way, and that hadn’t worked either.

“Yes,” Tara said simply.

“Really?” she had to ask. Now if Tara wasn’t sure would she have said it like this? No. Nor would her girlfriend have joked about something like that. Tara knew for sure. Now she knew Tara knew and she knew in her own right.

“So Lizzie says,” Tara qualified, but without doubt in her tone.

So Lizzie said…

She might be a dotty old lady who saw and heard things. Or she might be perfectly sane and have all her faculties. Sadly, in this town, Willow tended to believe it was the latter. Even when it came to the dead coming back to life.

“Have you seen him?” she asked her girlfriend, taking a look around for herself. No, no dead Mayor’s in this coffee shop.

“No.”

But that was what Tara had been looking around for, some trace of him around town. And that was what she was afraid of too.

He’d died easily enough, but what would his return mean for Sunnydale? For them?

“Has Lizzie?” Willow persisted. Perhaps someone had been playing a joke on her too? Okay, this was Sunnydale but there was still the chance the older woman was wrong or being tricked.

“Yes,” Tara said. “She has. Yesterday.”

Well, that blew that idea out the window. Out the window, down the street and far over the houses.

“How did this happen?” Willow wondered.

And why does it always happen to us?

“I wish I knew,” Tara told her, finally taking a nervous sip of her coffee, wincing at how cold it probably was by now. Then she took another sip. Willow could see it was something to do with her hands, to stop herself fidgeting and showing her nerves.

Cold coffee didn’t stop Tara looking around though, as if he might be there, getting a mocha right along with them.

But he wasn’t.

She’d already checked.

“I mean…” Willow started, lowering her voice because she didn’t want this to be overheard, even though she intended to move into sign anyway when the subject got really… tough. People tended to react strangely when you started to talk about things they didn’t want to acknowledge. “I know what dead is better than most people.”

Tara nodded.

“At least better than anyone who doesn’t work in a morticians, and he was very, very dead. I… she made sure,” she continued, referring to the vampire as much as herself – because she remembered it all. Every moment of ripping his throat out and rejecting the chance to drink his blood in the same instant.

Hadn’t stopped her tasting it though, there was really no way to rip a throat out with your teeth and not taste blood. She remembered the taste of him. She remembered it all.

Once again, Tara nodded. Willow could tell her lover wanted to hear what she had to say now. She’d be using the time to think too.

“And I was so pleased you’d gotten me to do it for you… to *K-I-L-L* him for you,” she finger spelled the offending word, not wanting anyone to hear her saying she’d killed someone.

She could easily have killed someone who meant a lot to someone sat here now. Those kinds of thoughts, walking through town, could drive you insane with guilt.

She understood that, she’d almost been there.

Another nod, but still Tara didn’t say anything.

“I made sure,” Willow continued. “He was *dead.* You saw him buried! That’s very *dead.* People might get out of a coffin after a few hours – maybe. But after five years? How could this happen?” she asked again.

“I don’t know!” Tara hissed tetchily. “I didn’t bring him back to life – I just don’t know!”

Tara was obviously even more disturbed about this than she was.

Much more.

Tara barely ever lost her temper – especially with her – even though that wasn’t what this had been. Willow’s girlfriend was just… testy about the whole subject. Tara was frustrated at her own inability to account for him coming back. And probably at the idea they might’ve somehow let it happen.

No tempers had been lost, but it was getting close. When Tara was afraid and tetchy, that was the time to worry.

“Okay love, but if it has happ – ”

“It has,” Tara insisted, not even allowing her to finish the sentence since it included some doubt on the subject. At least she thought it did.

“If it has, what can we do about it?” Willow completed evenly. Right now she was more than prepared to cut Tara a lot of slack. She owed it to her girlfriend a hundred times over, quite aside from being in love with each other. That was what you did when you were in love – you didn’t take offence at the very natural expressions of emotion that sometimes just happened.

And this was something they’d never, ever foreseen.

Perhaps they should’ve though? Now see, she was going down the same path as Tara.

“I don’t know,” Tara replied to her question. Simple as that.

Tara was usually the one with the plan – but now she didn’t know?

Okay, Willow thought. I can be plan-girl. Plan-girl was one of her hidden depths – if only because she usually let someone else do the planning when it came to this kind of thing. Tara’s greater experience usually meant she was happy to take a backseat in planning what to do with the big-bads.

Really, she just offered helpful suggestions that made the plans better.

“Well, before we tell Rupert and Jenny anything, we need to be sure right?” Willow asked. Actually, she was suggesting it.

She didn’t like it even as she said it, the idea of keeping secrets, but she was trying to put herself in Tara’s shoes right now. And when she was in those shoes she understood how her girlfriend would be thinking. They were thinking-shoes, obviously.

Tara would want to be sure…

Wouldn’t she?

“We need to check his grave, that sort of thing,” she suggested, searching for something that might yield results. It’d be better thinking about this for a little while than immediately leaping into a plan to deal with a situation they didn’t really understand.

“You don’t need a body to bring someone back,” Tara reminded her when she offered the grave as a possibility.

They’d proven that for themselves… All Tara had available when she’d… Well, all she’d had was a pile of dust and even that hadn’t been required for the ritual Wolfram and Hart had performed.

The classics though…

“But they might’ve used one,” Willow said. “He could be some kind of zombie… or… or he might not have been really dead. I mean dead-dead. Like if he wasn’t human to begin with then maybe he didn’t die like a human would…”

Where was she going with this?

“And maybe… maybe when I thought he was dead, dead-dead, he was just dead,” she shook her head. That was altogether too many ‘deads.’

“Was he human?” Tara asked, surprising her.

Willow couldn’t remember either of them asking the question before. But she knew what Tara meant, knew how seriously Tara was taking this if she wanted to know that. It was in the blood.

Had he tasted human?

Sense memories of the vampire were painful, but that was because they were so very vivid. Most human senses seemed dull by comparison… with a few exceptions.

But a vampire’s senses were heightened, suitable for a powerful predator at the top of the food chain. And yes, that included taste. As a vampire she’d been able to tell a lot from the taste of the blood. Gender, as if she hadn’t already known, emotional state too. Terror and lust always tasted the sweetest.

More than that.

Telling if someone were human was about the easiest part of it. Animal blood, the few times she’d tasted it, had been like drinking five day old stagnant rainwater instead of a fine wine.

She hadn’t drunk from him, but she’d ripped his throat out and let the life drain away. She’d tasted him then.

“Yes,” she said. “He…” She switched to sign to safeguard the privacy of the conversation once again. *He tasted human. But there was a hint of something else there too.*

“What?” Tara asked, urgency overcoming reluctance to raise this kind of topic with her.

“Power… that’s the only word I can think of that fits. Something like that anyway. But he was human,” she confirmed.

“You’re sure?” Tara checked.

“Well, obviously not. At least when he’s apparently still alive and kicking,” she admitted.

She’d have bet money on that memory being true though. The vampire had known the taste of humans very well indeed; human blood had been the only thing that had sustained her for years and years and she’d sought out favoured textures and flavours by the nature and state of her victims.

Tara took her hand across the table and squeezed it. “I’m sorry for being snippy.”

Willow squeezed back and then linked their fingers. “I thought it was ‘testy’… but it’s okay, you had what I’d call ‘just-cause.’ This time.”

A small smile broke on Tara’s lips. “It’s a good idea you know.”

“Hmm?” Willow wondered, revelling in Tara’s smile while they were in the midst of a crisis.

“Making sure, then we can figure out what to do,” her girlfriend told her.

But what could they do about it? Even if it was true?

----------------------

*You’re both a mess,* Toni said as they made their way into the kitchen, where at least the floor could be cleaned more easily.

“We’ve been to the cemetery,” Tara replied.

*Again?* Toni asked, shaking her head. *You two spend all your time in cemeteries.*

“We do not!” Willow replied indignantly, without thinking about the nature of the denial. She turned to Tara, expecting some support, watched as her girlfriend thought about it.

“Well, we do spend a lot of time there sometimes,” Tara conceded, fingers and hands flashing as she kept up with her spoken words.

“But not all our time,” Willow insisted. Accuracy was important.

“No,” Tara admitted. “Not all.”

“It’s not like we’re all ‘what shall we do tonight?’ ‘What do you want to do tonight?’ ‘Let’s go down to the cemetery – that place wails!’” As she was having the imaginary conversation with herself she turned, taking each side of the conversation on and signing it accordingly.

It was a performance that, by their reactions, plainly struck Tara and Toni as odd. They just stood and looked at her.

“No…” Tara finally said. “We’re really not like that.”

Even Toni had to agree.

“We are there a lot,” Tara admitted again.

Willow was just pleased Tara had calmed down a little, from the panic earlier in the day, she’d become much more methodical. Even willing to joke and tease a little. The world wasn’t ending – at least not so they’d noticed.

“But killing bad things, you know?” Willow argued. “Even though we didn’t actually do that tonight.”

*Came up dry?* Toni wondered and Willow chose to ignore the possibility of there being some innuendo there. Toni didn’t know what was happening.

Another night, another time she’d have seen it, reacted and even if Toni hadn’t meant it she’d have gone along with it – teased the girl in return. Not tonight.

It was strange though; they had to avoid mentioning the V word around Toni – but the younger woman was all in favour of actually killing the heck out of the vampires. Much as Toni moaned about them always being in one of Sunnydale’s many cemeteries, she never complained about why they were there. Or when they were hunting anywhere else.

“It wasn’t why we were there,” Willow told her.

*So why are you both so dirty?* Toni asked. *If nothing happened?*

Tara and Willow looked at each other. What to say? They’d never thought about whether to admit what they’d been doing… now they had to make that choice without actually discussing it.

Killing vampires was one thing – what they’d been doing was quite another thing for Toni to accept. You’d get into the whole fact that the Mayor had been human.

Not to mention what she’d been when that’d happened.

It was a can of worms they didn’t want to go anywhere near, let alone open.

Toni must’ve taken the hesitation for guilt though. Guilt of some kind – and they were guilty. Was it really a good idea to admit to her they were checking the contents of a grave? Even if you could hold off from revealing the rest of the story?

An, apparently, undisturbed grave.

At least until they’d gotten there. Then it’d been plenty disturbed.

So if they hadn’t been killing vampires, then to Toni it’d be logical they must’ve been doing something else… Let her reach her own conclusions rather than get into the details they didn’t want to ever explain.

*Eww* Toni said with her expressive face. *In the cemetery??*

What was she…?

Ohhh! “No!” Willow said quickly. There was the innuendo again. “No. No. No. And again I say no.”

*So what were you doing?* Toni asked, plainly not quite believing that they hadn’t been out there having… making… doing the lurve thing among all the dead bodies.

What was it with this girl? Why did she always think the worst of them?

Okay, that wasn’t fair… it wasn’t the ‘worst.’ It was just she seemed to be obsessed with the fact they were always making love.

At least in her eyes they were.

And they really weren’t! Especially in cemeteries.

Big ‘no’ to cemetery loving. Very occasionally they’d stopped off on a hunt… but never in a cemetery. Ewww.

But how to answer the question about what they had been doing? Tara didn’t seem to have anything better to suggest. What was the good way to say ‘we were digging up graves’ without actually using the words?

Well, one grave.

There really wasn’t any good way to put that kind of thing and, when you came to it, Toni really didn’t want to know.

Hesitation just seemed to prove the girl’s point though. *You were!*

Willow sighed and noticed Tara shaking her head.

Where had this impression of them as sex-mad lesbians come from? She had her suspicions. While part of it might be through observation of their affection, most of it probably came from a certain school teacher who liked to cause trouble for them whenever she could.

Okay, so they were lesbians. No one was denying that. But they were hardly sex-mad.

Sex-keen? Maybe that undersold them a little.

Sex-enthusiastic, perhaps?

They were down with the woman loving to be sure.

But not mad for it.

Sex-appreciative?

Now that was a good one…

On the other hand, this time it was easier to let Toni believe in their carnal desires than to argue with her, especially when the truth was a lot more unpalatable.

It didn’t really matter did it? Toni knew they loved each other – they were good role models in that respect. And no one was going to take the girl away just because they were sex-appreciative with each other.

Okay, allegedly doing it in the cemetery could prove a touch more embarrassing than the privacy of their bedroom if Social Services found out – but even that was better than the social workers discovering they’d been digging up the grave of the old Mayor of Sunnydale.

*What am I even asking for?* Toni asked almost wistfully, as if they were just proving her opinion of them. *Night.*

“Night” Tara said, managing a smile despite what Toni seemed to think about them, and neither of them was sure how serious she was.

And that smile was despite everything else that’d happened today.

They’d only gone out to buy some coffee mugs and now look at them, covered in mud and spending their evening digging up a grave.

If being sex-mad was the worst Toni thought of them then they were actually doing all right.

“Hey you,” Willow stopped Toni before she could leave the room. “We weren’t,” she signed putting as much emphasis on her fingers as she did her words. “So don’t you be saying we were, okay?”

*Who to?* Toni asked, all innocence.

“I know you sweetie. You’re about to run off and get into a chat with Mal,” Willow said, recognising Toni’s sudden keenness to get into her own room for what it was. And she was proved right when Toni blushed.

“Not a word about any of it,” Willow insisted. “His Dad wouldn’t understand what we were doing… Or not doing.”

And that was the truth – you couldn’t just break the news that the world was something very different to what it appeared to be – not without preparation.

*You think I want to admit my foster-parents are sex-mad?* Toni asked. *I signed up for lesbians, not cemetery nymphos. And it wouldn’t be very cool to admit to it, would it?*

Willow looked at her, meeting her eyes. Toni was the first one to break – into a smile. She was teasing them. The tall young woman came to her and actually had to bend to kiss her cheek in a friendly way. *Night, Willow.*

*Night, Tara.* No kiss there though.

Willow just stood, stunned as the girl left the room. A usual Toni slammed the bedroom door as loudly as only a deaf person could without meaning anything by it. No sound based protests from this teenager. What would be the point?

Finally she turned to Tara. “Did that just happen?” she asked, but she could tell by Tara’s smile that it really, really had. Something else to smile about…

Sometimes things went okay, even when they seemed to be bad.

“Uh-huh,” Tara confirmed.

“She kissed me on the cheek,” Willow exclaimed.

“Uh-huh. I noticed that,” Tara seemed just as surprised as she was, and once again something pleasant was distracting them from the problems the day had brought.

“Wow,” Willow said quietly.

“Definitely wow,” Tara agreed, moving over to her. “And I think she found the only non-muddy bit of you too.”

“Of my whole body?” Willow asked playfully. “How would she know?”

“I meant your face,” Tara corrected her.

“No more clean spots?” Willow checked.

Tara replied by kissing the tip of her nose. “Just there. How’d you get so messy anyway?”

“Same way you did I suppose,” she concluded. Truth was that on a wet night, being six foot deep in a muddy trench wasn’t a great way to stay clean.

“Am I as bad as you?” Tara asked, holding her gently.

“I don’t know - I can’t see me properly.” But that wasn’t what she wanted to talk about – they were skirting around the issue. The walk home had been largely silent, both of them thinking about things and only sharing a few of them.

What could they do? What did they need to do?

Did they need to tell Rupert and Jenny now?

Another gentle kiss calmed her nerves, and made her think. “The day she gives you a kiss on the cheek…” Willow said.

“I’ll faint.”

“Good to know,” she said. “But you know I’ll be there to catch you.”

“You always are.” Tara looked back down the hallway towards Toni’s room. “Our little girl’s trying to be all grown up,” Tara said, only half joking.

“Our little girl is all grown up,” Willow countered.

“Point,” Tara acknowledged.

Without needing to say a word about it they came to a silent conclusion – at least about what had to happen immediately. The harder questions would come later. The lights went off, and the TV. Willow collected two glasses of water as her girlfriend checked the locks, as well making sure they were still protected by the charms before they met again in the bathroom.

Deep in thought it was only after the fact Willow realised she’d forgotten to enjoy the sight of Tara undressing and revealing herself once again. She’d been undressing herself, nothing new there, but the things on her mind had distracted her from Tara’s bodily charms.

Okay, so dirt hadn’t gotten everywhere she concluded as they stood next to each other before the full length mirror, but it had definitely gotten to more places than either of them would’ve wanted it to.

Tara had already turned the shower on and the extractor was trying to cope with the rising steam before they stepped into the cubicle. It wasn’t until the water was pouring down on them that either spoke again, dirty water starting to swirl round their feet and toes.

“What do we do? Tara asked as she squeezed shower gel into her hands and started to apply it to Willow’s body, washing the worst of the mud away with broad strokes.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Willow told her. This was serious. This was as bad as things had gotten in Sunnydale for years now.

Or was it?

At least it could be.

“We have to be careful,” Tara said. “We killed him… I don’t know what that’ll mean.”

“We have to find him before we worry about that,” Willow suggested as the warm water cascaded over her back and Tara’s hands lathered up the front of her from top to bottom.

“He’s never been the kind to hide,” Tara told her as Willow offered her back and Tara dipped down behind her.

“Yet we haven’t seen him…?” Willow wondered. “Lizzie could be wrong, couldn’t she?” she asked.

Tara washed her down and the dirt washed away around their toes, she watched it disappear, swirling in the water.

“I don’t see how,” Tara murmured, just loud enough to be heard above the water.

“He’s still in his grave,” Willow insisted, taking the gel and starting to return the favour for Tara. The water had already mostly cleaned her up by now.

“So it seems,” Tara agreed, but there was that note of doubt.

“You don’t believe it?”

“I do believe that’s him – in there,” Tara said. “But I’m open to being wrong too. And as I said before… you don’t need the body to bring someone back. Not every time or every way. We’ve both read about plenty of ways.”

Taking her turn to sexlessly soap Tara’s breasts, it seemed hard to believe her girlfriend was wrong. “You’re right,” Willow admitted, as she laid hands on the one she loved the most. Then she was on her knees to wash Tara’s feet and ankles, streaked with the rivulets of dirty water that had come from the rest of her body.

“I don’t want to be,” Tara said. “But…”

“Do you believe it?” Willow asked. “I mean, if Lizzie hadn’t said anything and we’d just found something out, would you have?”

“I think there’s a reason you were having dreams,” Tara said.

They fell silent, thinking again as they washed each other’s hair, then towelling off. Willow rested against the wall as Tara scrubbed her teeth, not caring how everything was jiggling as she did so.

Oh, she was aware of it and any other day she’d have really been admiring that jiggle, but it wasn’t where they were now. Now they were in a serious place. “I think you’re right,” she said as they put their night clothes on and slipped into bed.

So they’d accepted he was back, even if his body wasn’t missing, but what was he doing?

Like Tara said, he hadn’t been the kind to hide.

So where was he?

****************

[Tigerkid14]

Hey Katharyn

Okay, so you remember how a while ago I said something along the lines of "Mayor Wilkins doesn't really scare me" and/or "it's hard to think of him as a villain"? Well....I TAKE IT BACK!!

You know what made me take it back? It was this line (forgive the lack of quote thingies, I don't know how to do them):

Tara, herself, was scared and that was something even the vampire had never really succeeded in achieving. Much as the vampire had tried, it’d never really made Tara afraid for herself.

(Nevermind about the quote thingies, I think I figured it out.)

That line or set of lines, or sentence or whatever you want to call it sent a chill down my back. If Tara is scared, then I'm running for the hills! It was such a simple statement, so easily said you could almost miss it if you read too fast (and I admit, I nearly did) but if you see it, it practically screams from the page. NOW I think Mayor Wilkins is really bad.

By the way, should you decide to write an epilogue or something else Sidesteppy after you finish this one, I'll be right there with you. I'm all for good fanfic.

And we finished King Lear in my Shakespeare class (don't ever read it or watch the Peter Brooks version of the movie unless you want to start suffering from depression) and now we're on to Hamlet. I like Hamlet...and I think I've procrastinated homework enough now.

Glad I caught the update though.

Meghan

~There are very few monsters who warrant the fear we have of them. ~Andre Gide

[Darth Pacula]

Holy crap ... I made it! I'm up to date! It certainly took me long enough, but damn! What a ride!

More coherent feedback will be forthcoming when I'm not on the verge of falling asleep ... hopefully tommorrow.

Cheers,
Paul.

[Katharyn]

Oh yeah, I remember you saying that Meghan. I had to smile to myself when you did.

And I’m pleased that Tara’s fear is reflected in what you, the reader, sees.

Tara’s fear, I think, is best justified as a fear of the unknown. She doesn’t know what he wants or what he’ll do (but rest assured she will be trying to find out!) If there was a threat (beyond him just being there) I think Tara could deal with that better. It’s the not knowing that gets to her. In addition to a lingering guilt about what she had Willow do back when she was vampy and not knowing what he might want to do about that.

As for my future Sidestep plans… I have so many stories I want to write – and not necessarily W/T – but there are only so many hours in the day! W/T has dominated things for me for 4 or so years. It might be time to take a step back. Besides, the projected finish date for this Chronicle is September 07 (now that I am moving to a weekly posting schedule.) But I think an epilogue like that wouldn’t necessarily block anything in the future *S*

Thanks so much for keeping on stepping back onto this side


Ah, Darth – up to date at last. Now you have to settle in for the long haul! But at least you’ve joined just as I update the posting schedule. Next part will be next Saturday, and then every Saturday after that.

I’d love to see what you can condense dozens of parts into feedback wise LOL

Thanks for persisting with it.

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - Promises to Keep (Part 203)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Tara and Willow discuss their next steps but don’t quite get to take them yet.
Disclaimer: I 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. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: In case anyone is wondering – this part refers back to 182 when R/J confronted the girls over not telling them about the dreams. Also originally this was written as a big, surprising reveal. Not such a surprise anymore!
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Promises to Keep

By

Katharyn Rosser



“Sweetie,” Tara sighed, sounding just the tiniest bit exasperated, “I agree – we do need to go and see Rupert and Jenny.”

Willow’s girlfriend was sat on the edge of their bed, zipping on her boots as they had the conversation. Willow herself was all ready to go. The question just remained of where they were going right now.

Rupert and Jenny’s? Or somewhere that was else?

“So why are we talking about it?” Willow asked. “Let’s just go see them.” She checked the time. “Jenny’s going to be back from kick-boxing; Rupert will be there with the kids. We’ll catch them both in if we go now.”

“That’s just it. I don’t think we need to see them now,” Tara repeated. “We don’t know enough to worry them.”

“Oh, I think they’ll be worried. I’m worried – so they definitely should be.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Tara chided her. “And you know it.”

Willow walked over from the door to where her lover was sat, standing in front of her where she could lift that face with one finger and look into Tara’s eyes. “We went through this with the dreams,” she reminded her.

But Tara’s resolve didn’t falter.

“You know what they’ll say if we don’t tell them,” Willow went on, sensing she was losing the battle – but still making every effort to win it by appealing over what’d happened in the past. “I trust your instincts – but we did promise them.”

Tara nodded, looking up at her. “If we go there now, then we’ll all sit around, talking about worrying about it. And actually worrying about it. Wondering how much we need to worry about it, and then talking about that some more. Eventually we’ll figure out what we need to do, so then we can get more information before we decide how to proceed.”

Tara smoothed her skirt down over her zipped-up boots and then looped an arm around Willow’s waist, kissing her stomach gently. Nothing fruity – but just a reminder of who it was that loved her. Who it was she trusted above all others. Even through her clothes it was an unfair bargaining position for Tara to adopt.

“We shouldn’t have even brought the shopping home yesterday,” Willow said, trying to resist the allure of Tara’s reasoning and affection. “We should’ve been there last night, after we checked the cemetery. We probably shouldn’t have even done that. We promised to tell them everything, you know?”

“We will, Will,” Tara promised and gave her another kiss.

Willow broke into a grin as she thought about what Tara had said. “You said will Will.” Something about it just struck her as funny, childish, but being childish didn’t stop it being funny. “Stop distracting me!” she said firmly as she realised it was another of Tara’s little tricks, just as the kiss had been.

She didn’t make any move to step back from her lover though – letting Tara hold her, chin supported by the belt of her jeans, looking up at her.

“We’ll tell them by tonight – I promise,” Tara said. “Just a few more hours, baby.”

And that was a Tara promise – Tara promises didn’t get broken unless circumstances overtook them.

Willow could see the point. They’d already delayed. They’d already taken more time than they should have. A couple more hours now wasn’t really going to make any difference to what Rupert and Jenny would say to them about that delay.

Things happened, things you had to do.

Justifying it to herself wasn’t working too well though. She just knew what the right thing to do was. Especially after they’d promised and all.

“All I want,” Tara continued, “Is to go and see Lizzie. Just to find out if she knows where he is. She must have some idea – she’s here to run his office after all. Even if she hasn’t started yet.”

“You think she’ll tell you?” Willow asked doubtfully.

Tara shrugged. “She will, unless he told her not to – and even then she might. There’s nothing to lose by trying. If she can’t say… we’ll follow her, but another time. And we can still tell Rupert and Jenny right after this – we don’t have to wait until we can follow her to do that.”

Willow considered the idea, it sounded reasonable. Telling the Giles’ was still central to the plan. “Okay,” she agreed. “Location would be good – but what then?”

She was waiting for Tara to say ‘we’ll go see him.’ She was half expecting it really. The Mayor had been Tara’s employer once upon a time. Between them it’d been… not exactly a friendship. But not exactly father and daughter either. Something in between those two positions and far more than just employer and employee.

Tara had been the one who’d known him, the one who’d ultimately had him killed for the good of everyone in town, even if Willow was the one who remembered doing the deed. The taste of it.

She’d have understood if Tara wanted to deal with this herself – but there’d been the Tara promise. And those didn’t get broken. Even if Tara had an address he was at, she’d go see the Giles’ first. Willow believed it implicitly.

“Then we’ll go see Jenny and Rupert – and decide what to do,” Tara said simply and blessed her with one more kiss, this time on her bare stomach after lifting her t-shirt a little.

Oh, this woman of hers was just so persuasive. If that tongue darted into her bellybutton Willow knew they might not even get out of her tonight.

But Tara had more serious things on her mind at the moment.

“And if Lizzie won’t tell you?” Willow checked.

“Then we’ll go right over to see Jenny and Rupert anyway,” Tara assured her again.

That brightened things – that and the little kisses. “So all we’re doing is avoiding worrying about where he is.” Willow concluded. She could live with that – it wasn’t like they’d actually be hiding anything from Rupert and Jenny. In fact they’d be finding out more information before going to see them.

Telling them more in the end, in exchange for another short delay. After all it’d only been yesterday they’d found out.

“Exactly,” Tara said as she offered a hand to be helped up. A hand Willow gladly took only to find, a moment later, that she was being kissed again, this time on the lips. “Trust me, love.”

“Always,” Willow promised her. Tara didn’t even have to ask for her trust, it was just there. Understood and accepted.

But what about when they’d found him and talked it over with the Giles’? What would Tara do then? Or at least advocate that they do? Now that they ‘knew’ what the old Mayor had done in the past? Long before either of them was born.

What he’d done to Lilly and Ruth.

Would Tara confront him with that? Would she challenge him on it?

We’re they so sure that the dreams were real, sure enough to face him down?

Or would they have to keep it to the present, what he was doing alive again now?

Willow knew she was hardly one to talk about that. In her position it was tough to argue he should’ve stayed dead. Nor could Tara really… Her girlfriend had been the one who arranged for her to be brought back.

So they should just worry about what he was planning to do now, in the present? Oh, and by the way why aren’t you dead anymore? It wasn’t something you could just slip into the conversation. Overall, when you came right down to it, lack of persistent-death was a pretty fundamental question.

And then what? Kill him?

Again?

Call the police? But what crime had he committed that the police would be interested in?

And did they really want to raise the issue of people who were dead but somehow still walking around? No, they didn’t want the police looking into things like that.

Aside from the inconvenience, eventually it’d lead to people getting hurt.

These were definitely the kind of things they needed to talk about with their friends. The Mayor had a lot to answer for, didn’t he?

But how could they make him pay the price? What should they do about it now?

Stop him?

One thing he’d wanted to do was become a demon. The big, scary kind they hadn’t had to deal with so far. That was why she’d… why they’d done what they’d done.

At least it was why Tara had done it. Willow remembered less noble motives.

They’d killed him for what he wanted to do with Sunnydale in the future. Not for what he’d actually managed to do. And he’d never committed that atrocity they feared because they’d stopped him before it’d happened.

So he wasn’t even technically guilty of the crime? At least not that crime, there were plenty of other things he’d done.

Weren’t there?

The manner of his death though… Tara hadn’t been able to do it herself, so she’d insinuated it’d please her if the vampire had done it for her. Now there was an actual crime – not a pre-crime.

She’d killed him.

Willow knew exactly why the vampire she’d once been had done it – and it wasn’t for anything the Mayor had done, or wanted to do. No, the vampire had done it because it was a simple way to please Tara.

And for… other reasons – but all of them had to do with Tara. The idea of being joined in ending a life by Tara… it’d seemed delicious at the time. Much as that disturbed her now.

So he’d been punished for crimes he’d never actually had chance to commit. Could they do that again? Was there any justice in that choice? Or did they respond to what they knew he’d already done?

He’d built a town that was a haven for demons and vampires. On the other hand Willow knew many other cities just naturally got that way anyway, and they weren’t even a Hellmouth.

There would’ve been demons around here even in the old mission days and before that when the Chumash had been the only local inhabitants. Before the whole genocide-inducing colonisation drive that was so brutally commemorated every November.

And in making the town… It was actually a pretty nice place to live, demons and Hellmouths aside.

Okay, so what else had he actually done?

He’d been in her dream of course – he’d done bad things to Tara’s family. At least they thought he had. They believed it was real – but they couldn’t prove it unless he admitted it.

And there wasn’t a court in the land that’d convict on the evidence of a dream.

But when you really got down to thinking about what he’d done – he’d also brought Tara here.

He’d ended the Master’s reign of terror and death by bringing Tara here. And the town was still benefiting from her presence, even today. People were alive who wouldn’t have been in that darker world.

Me for one.

It’d always seemed to Willow that the Master had been much worse for Sunnydale than just another demon, no matter how big the Mayor would be after his Ascension… But maybe that was some sort of twisted sense of achievement she felt at having been a part of his Order once. It was tempting to still think about The Master as the biggest of bads.

She’d killed the Mayor, before his employee had set her free. But he’d placed the ad in the paper that brought Tara here and set in motion the chain of events that had freed her. In a way he’d brought them together – even if fate said they’d have found a way anyway.

It was getting tougher and tougher to hate him when you thought about all that kind of thing. For every minus there was some sort of plus – no matter if it hadn’t been intended nobly.

But then she’d never really hated him – not even when she’d been a vampire and he’d been the sworn enemy of the Master.

Vampires didn’t hate. They didn’t have it in them – not really.

Hate implied an ability to feel the opposite emotion – love – and she knew that wasn’t something vampires could do. Hate required a soul just as much as love did. That was why the worst crimes in the recorded history of the world had been committed by humans – not by vampires or other kinds of demons.

A vampire couldn’t love – if there’d been one vampire who should’ve been able to she’d been it. Fated to be with Tara… but she hadn’t loved Tara back then.

And she hadn’t hated the Mayor for the same reason.

Vampires simply preyed.

Did the wolf hate the sheep?

No, it was probably grateful there was a sheep around, or else it was going hungry. So it was with vampires. The fun vampires had with their victims, the pleasure they took in pain and suffering… that wasn’t about hate. It was simply the nature of the demon within them.

It’d be easier to hate him if they knew for certain the dreams were true – but they didn’t know that at all. Would they mention it? Would he admit it or give it away?

“So what happens after we talk to Rupert and Jenny,” she asked.

She wondered if Tara had thought about this as much as she just had. If she was having the same thoughts… she must’ve been. Right? How couldn’t this be on her mind?

“Then, love, we do what we have to do,” Tara said calmly.

“Again?” Willow asked, assuming the worst.

“If we have to, yes,” Tara confirmed, but there was something in her eyes that said this’d be harder… not just like killing any other demon. This would be a person, a person she’d liked once upon a time – for all his evil intentions.

“Cos it worked so well last time,” Willow joked darkly, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“How were we to know?” Tara wondered.

Willow smiled, despite the subject. It was the only way. “It is unexpected. And from a knowledge point of view, I’d love to know how he did it,” Willow mused, checking through her bag.

“I’d prefer to know why he did it,” Tara countered.

“That too,” Willow agreed. That piece of information would determine just how much they all needed to worry. Perhaps he’d be happy to come back and just be a productive member of society? “I just…”

“What?” Tara asked.

“I don’t know if I could…” How could she put this? “I mean I don’t know if we should do what we did last time,” Willow stumbled over the right way to put it.

Last time there’d been the vampire – always eager to kill, always taking pleasure from it. And that kill had been all the sweeter because the seemingly aloof, goody, goody ‘Kitty’ had asked her to do it for her… If not in so many words.

Tara had lowered herself to that and the vampire had enjoyed that aspect of humiliation – as well as the ‘payment’ she’d received. Just thinking about how much she’d enjoyed it made Willow shudder all over again.

Would he remember it like she did? Both of them had died since… a small thread that connected them, aside from the dreams she’d had about what he’d seemingly done to Tara’s family.

“Fortunately that’s not something we’ll have to worry about right away,” Tara promised her. “You know we won’t do anything unless we have to?” she checked. “You know that right? That you don’t have to worry about that?”

What right did they have to do anything to him now?

What if someone she’d hurt back when she’d been a killer came along and wanted her dead now? Thought maybe she posed a threat to the town?

Obviously she’d fight – Tara would too – she deserved her life after it’d been taken away from her. But then so did the people she’d killed. And did a hypothetical someone who worried about what she could do – say if she was vamped again – have any less right to act to prevent that than they did, worrying about him?

And what about him? His nature?

Was there a difference because it had been done to her – instead of choosing it? She’d been made into a monster… He’d just wanted to become one.

And how did they know it hadn’t been done to him too? Had he ever been given a choice?

Killing demons made you a protector. Killing people made you a murderer. She didn’t want to commit murder – again. She knew what that was like – but this time she wouldn’t even have the excuse of being some undead thing when it happened.

That was the deal – you didn’t kill people. Not even people who wanted to be… something else.

“I know,” Willow replied as they headed for the door. She was certain that they wouldn’t take that sort of action unless there really was no other choice.

But that was how they justified it last time. Now look where they were.

“Oh wait, are we going to be coming back together?” she asked, realising she’d forgotten something.

“Always take your keys,” Tara chided her for what must’ve been the hundredth time.

“It’s too late you know,” Willow called from the living room as she picked them up and put them in her pocket.

“For what?” Tara asked from the door.

“I’m already worried about it,” Willow told her. Tara had told her not to be, but she was anyway.

Her girlfriend didn’t reply though. Willow looked around to make sure there wasn’t anything else she’d forgotten and headed for the door where Tara would be waiting for her. “I said I’m already worried about it.”

“Oh, you don’t want to be worrying Miss Rosenberg – worry inhibits good digestion, and digestion is absolutely key to a healthy body and lifestyle.”

Tara wasn’t alone at the door.

He was here.

Now.

Right on their doorstep.

And what were they going to do about it?

***********

[Forrister]

Pardon me if I sound a little vague, I've just come off working 15 days straight and my brain has turned to tapioca. The only consolation is a) I have the next week off, and b) I wont have to do this again for a long time (I hope).

I got to read 2 whole parts this morning. I knew there would be repercussions from Lizzie turning up like that but I was surprised by the reaction. For once Willow seems to be the calmer one. She is also the one advocating the moral viewpoint. Tara is very badly shaken and naturally wants to scout things out first before going any further. I'm not sure she's doing the right thing, not going to Rupert & Jenny straight away, but like Willow I'm prepared to go along with her.

The thing that really struck me, in the latest part particularly is just how far Willow has come. Not only has she come to handle what happened while she was a vampire, she has also developed a thoughtful, caring nature that she is evidently prepared to extend even to Richard (provided he's not up to demon evil that is). When they first came back to Sunnydale after her re-humanising, I would have thought she'd be the one saying, 'he was bad before, therefore he's bad now - kill him before he causes any more trouble'. Now she's the voice of the moderated response. This is good - except for one thing . . . I fear the aforementioned violent response might well be the right one in this case. We shall see.

I'm going back to bed now - just because I can. The plan is I shall sleep til Tuesday and then contemplate napping. . . . and possibly laundry.



Forrister

Perierat totus orbis, nisi iram finiret misericordia.
The entire world would have perished unless compassion had limited the hatred.

[Katharyn]

Hi there, hope you've gotten some rest now.

In my mind Tara reacted as she did because she knew what Wilkins wanted. She knew it from him telling her. Willow's knowledge is second hand and less immediate, even though she's had the dreams etc.

The whole not seeing R/J is a mirror of their earlier failure to do the same thing and intentionally so.

Willow has come along way and though I knew that, I'd not conciously thought it until you said so. She's seen darkness. She knows it. She remembers it. She remembers the taste of blood. She remembers it feeling good. In her mind those memories are hers. Perhaps that is what lets her see degrees of badness that even Tara doesn't understand.

As for which way is right... wait and see,

Thanks hun.

Katharyn

[reyjawk]

Anyone else hear..."He's back...."

Cant wait to read how this turns out. Hope you had a good holiday!

Toni

[Darth Pacula]

More coherent feedback will be forthcoming when I'm not on the verge of falling asleep ... hopefully tommorrow.

Ahh .... yeah. That was the plan. Rather obviously, there was a flaw in that plan, in that it relied on moi. And I just noticed I misspelled tomorrow. Whoops.

G'day Katharyn!

But ... crap! 24 updates to cover? Is any of this going to make sense? Am I going to wear any of the letters off my keyboard? All questions to which I do not have the answer. But lets forge on regardless.

Now, I could go through each individual update one at a time, but to be honest, that would take a bloody long time, so I'll just see what I can remember and bring it up as it occurs to me.

First off: The Mayor ... except he's not a mayor anymore, is he? Okay Richard Wilkins the 1st, 2nd and 3rd. And possibly a few more besides. I can't say that I was surprised by his resurrection. I figured that might be one of the things that Ethan was up to. The reasons why Wolfram & Hart wanted him brought back? Ah, now that's the mystery!

As for the Mayor's character itself, he's an odd dichotomy, frequently displaying a kind of malicious benevolence. He appears to care for his constituents, while at the same time plotting to, at some point in the future, eat a fair few of them.

But I have to wonder; what the devil is the blighter up to? I seem to remember (though I might be remembering something that never happened) some allusions to an almost altruistic goal of the Mayor beyond the whole giant snake thing.

In this story at least, the Mayor hasn't displayed many overt signs of being your typical villain. Sure, his treatment of Lilly and Ruth, and the subsequent mistreatment of the Maclay women that can be laid at his door, has earned him a royal arse whoopin', but other than that what has he done.

He's not a physical villain in the same way that most in this story have been. He won't go out and engage in fisticuffs, or have his wicked way with the populace in person. He chooses instead to work behind the scenes.

So why is Tara so afraid of him? What can the bugger do? He's lost his political power base, and I can't see it being an easy job for him to reclaim it. I imagine that he would have needed to space out his mayoral terms of office, otherwise wouldn't people notice that his successors looked exactly the same as their predecessors? I wouldn't think that even family resemblances could explain that.

But regardless of the reasons for her fears, the fact that Tara is afraid of him is the important point, like Meghan said.

Which raises another point: what do they do about him? I can see Willow's quandary. If Wilkins is up to mischief, as is most likely, they have to stop him, that's a given. But that might come down to killing him, and can they do that? Do they have the right, if he is, as they believe, human. Sure, we know that he is, at best, a half-breed of some kind, but I remember reading that Willow (Vamp Willow that is) only tasted human, so they likely don't know that. They do know, or believe, that he's been around for an unnaturally long time, but other than that?

It's an interesting ethical question. Is it a just action to kill him if he doesn't pose an imminent threat? Do they have the right to summarily execute him, when they can't even be sure they know what he's up to, if indeed he is up to something. (On a side note: If? Of course he's up to something! )

Certainly, the most brutally practical action would be to sneak up behind him and double-tap the blighter in the back of the head, but somehow I can't see either of them doing that.

Now, his bringing Lizzie back. Was that a miscalculation? Was he trying to remain under the radar, in which case bringing Lizzie back was a bad misstep. His appearance in the latest update might argue that it was intentional, a way of prepping Tara for a face to face meet that would have been rather shocking if it came out of the blue. But it could just as easily be damage control on Wilkins part once he knew Willow and Tara were alerted to his return. Argh! Too many options! Damn my scheming mind!

Anyway, onto other topics.

Darla: well, she's vicious and cruel, and dangerous in her own way, but she is, at best, a blunt instrument, capable of minimal subtlety. And from what we've seen, she doesn't seem to pose much of a threat to Willow or Tara. It's their support characters that need to watch out. But I'm predicting her coming to a sticky end before the story's done. (Which, considering that you've basically said the same thing, is a good bet. )

Drusilla is far more fun; the crazies always are, aren't they? I especially enjoyed her little spat with Ethan's Tiger. (Though 'Ethan's Tiger' implies ownership, and who ever owns a cat? Silly Paul!)

Mal, aka Toni's irritatingly (to Toni) respectful boy toy ... I mean boyfriend ... well you suckered me with that one. I remember when he was first introduced, mentioned in passing as a Malcolm with whom Toni communicated over the Internet. This, of course as you no doubt intended, screamed to me 'giant robot demon on the Internet'! Which he patently isn't. Nice job, exploiting the readers familiarity with canon to mislead us.

Ah ... what else do we have?

Oh yes, Ethan's little truth spell. I'll tell you what, Ethan's little schemes seem to play out a little more subtly than we saw in canon. I imagine that there were some problems that we never saw, though that side trip with the thug who couldn't stop confessing was a hoot, but by and large it didn't seem to cause too much trouble. Certainly not as much as I was expecting.

I was expecting that Willow's vague dissatisfaction with the 'set' nature of their future was going to rear its ugly head, but nope. Just spoiled pranks and unexpected disclosures.

As for our girls delay in informing the Giles' of Wilkins' return? Well personally I think it's going to come back and bite them in the butt, no matter how they try to justify it to themselves, especially given the face to face situation they now find themselves in.

Blimey, did I write all that? Bugger me ... Well, if I took the time to go through each update in detail, as I likely will from now on, I'd be here for another few hours at least, so I think that will have to do you for now. It's your own fault you know. You're just too damn good a writer!

Cheers,
Paul.

[Katharyn]

Sorry the last update didn't go out last night, we were kind of busy here. It'll be posted as soon as I do these replies.

Rewjawk - I can't remember what 'he's baaack' was from, but I think you're getting the idea.

Thank's for the holiday cheer, I'll carry it over to when we actually get one here. A holiday in November would be nice though! Glad you're still with me.

Thanks

Paul - Well if it took you ages to type all that then it's going to take me ages to reply to it too.

You've actually given me a lot to think about here, which is what feedback is for so keep it coming. How you perceive what I write, and the motives you ascribe to it, is very informative. I've already made myself some notes to change a couple of things and make them more or less clear. So it was all worth it.

My problem is differentiating what you know from what I know... I'm currently working on part 219 so I have to be careful to avoid using that future stuff.

But in order...

The Mayor's ressurection shouldn't be much of a surprise. It started out that way, I intended it to be, which you can see in some of the updates structure. However it became obvious that the reader could hardly miss it! As for why they want him back? That will become much clearer, if it isn't already there.

I think I wanted, as a writer, to bring him back for just the reasons you mentioned. He did care about Sunnydale, and the people. Though he was definitely bad you couldn't help feeling (watching the show) that he was genuinely upset by the attitude of youngsters today etc etc. I think it's all there in the canon. He wanted to eat the best students he could, but for them. So they'd achieved something.

As for Tara and Willow wanting to eat anything... that's different.

I don't think you're wrong that HE feels he can be altruistic beyond being a snake thing. I've probably been hinting at that for a while. What difference there is between his version of altruism and what T/W/R/J think of it is the reason Ethan probably doesn't want to be in town when it happens.

And you're right he's not a typical villain - he never was. In this story even the treatment of the Maclay women was, to him, what needed to be done. If he had foreknowledge of what Tara would do in Sunnydale (given the Master controlled it etc) I could write a good defence for him doing what he did. Lets say a dozen Maclay women suffered, and their families, Tara has saved hundreds of lives, thousands probably. IS that a price worth paying?

Where he was a typical villain was in the events I am claiming happened in the original (non-Wish) canon. There, I am still claiming he caused the unreasonable behavior of the Maclay men but for less than noble reasons. Just because he could. In a sense I am suggesting he's been changed.

Why is Tara afraid of him? I'm not sure what I've posted and what I've not yet without going back and reading scenes, but consider this. Perhaps she's afraid because she already had him killed for no reason that was justified at the time. She did it to avoid his ascendance. She asked Willow (as a vamp) to kill him. Perhaps she's afraid he'll see that as a betrayal. Perhaps she's afriad because she can't do that again, not after what it cost her the last time. Perhaps she knows she can't do it to him - at least not until he has already done something bad?

Perhaps she feels powerless because she knows the answer to your ethical questions is no, and hell no. They can't kill him again. Not for no reason. Where does that end?

Bringing Lizzie back. Okay. This was part Macguffin, to create a reason for them to know from a writing perspective. Part because someone fed back on her and I wanted to bring her back and partly for plot reasons. Was it a mistake for him? That depends if he was hiding from them. And that's what you'll get in the coming part. You should be able to answer that question when I post that.

Darla... She wouldn't last two minutes against the girls. She thinks she's a big cheese but to be honest it's only the non-vampy things she can do that make her any threat at all.

Dru... who can't love Dru? I need to get her and Tiger together again somehow, but it's not going to work out in plot terms I fear. I also had this idea for MKF v's Tiger, but I just know MKF would kick his ass. I'd like to do it, but maybe a cat focused part would be where this well and truly jumped the shark.

Mal... I am SO pleased someone commented on this. Yes, he was definitely supposed to be bringing Moloch the Corruptor to mind, but that's not what I was hoping you'd pick up on. It's the 'irritating (to Toni) respectful boy toy' part. She wants MORE. Okay, lets be clear she's not silly enough to want all the way more, but she wants more from him anyway. The guy is just too nice. I'm having to decide (in my planning) whether he'll still be around in the epilogue... Would she put up with someone so nice forever?

Hmm, your notes about Ethan''s spell... Yes, they are a little more subtle. My justification would be he's getting paid for this, and so he needs to create the effect requested, but I'm a little disturbed by the 'not too much trouble' part. You're right, I just hadn't thought of it. Note to self, Ethan to cause more trouble.

Willow's disatisfaction with the nature of their future WAS in there once, but I took it out. TBH with Toni around, and looking like she could stay, I think perhaps part of that is addressed or at least she has other things on her mind. But yes, that is the TRUE story of this whole thing. At the end of the day that is what has to be dealt with. And Tara knows. Boy, does Tara know. She knows what is in Willow's heart and mind. Bringing it up here felt like beating the reader over the head with it, but on the other hand it has been a long time since it was brought up. Maybe I should have.

As for the Giles' reaction... wait and see.

Thanks so much for all that, it's been really useful to me. Keep it coming if you would (but maybe just one part at a time!)

Katharyn.

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle – Surprise Visit (Part 204)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: What happened after the Mayor turned up at the apartment.
Disclaimer: I 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. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: Yes, I might’ve borrowed a few ideas in this part. Hey, it’s fanfic. I’m not supposed to be original. I’m sure you’ll spot it.
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Surprise Visit

By

Katharyn Rosser


“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked Tara. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with the place.”

Tara stood there, looking at him. Staring at him even. Willow could feel the actual fear coming off her girlfriend. “I-I-I c-can’t” she stammered.

“Oh Tara, don’t tell me you still have that awful stammer – I thought we were well past that when I saw you last,” he commented, but not unkindly. He just sounded… disappointed. Disappointed for her, and he had no right to be like that.

And we were past it? Since when had there ever been a Richard Wilkins and Tara Maclay ‘we’ that meant a thing?

“I-I am,” Tara told him, a little more decisively.

And she really had been – at least until now. Willow hadn’t heard Tara stammer in… Well, it must’ve been years and years.

“Good,” he said. “Pleased to hear it. Now, will you let me in?”

“No,” Tara said absolutely firmly and without hesitation.

But then came the qualification. “I m-mean…” Tara took a deep breath. “I can’t invite you in,” she said. Firmer again.

“Why ever not?”

“There’s a protection spell,” Willow’s girlfriend reminded him – in case he’d forgotten. “Charms.” Would he remember? Obviously he remembered them and Tara’s old stammer. Memory was what would make him more the person he’d been though.

The person they’d killed.

The vampire and Tara.

She and Tara…

Willow accepted that memory made her what she had been too – even if she’d changed inside. Now she was alive.

And so was he.

“Aimed, as I recall, at the less human – or more than human – individuals who might choose to visit you without an invitation,” he said.

“That’s right,” Tara confirmed.

“So why would it bother me now?” he asked. “It never did before.”

It was true, Willow supposed. While no demon, no vampire – nothing mystical – could enter the protected space, it didn’t block humans or regular animals. The only exceptions would be if a mystical being had been given the charms that would allow them through it.

Delinquent penguins and people could trash the place and steal their stuff – but it wouldn’t be done by anything that tended to eat human flesh or blood.

She and Tara both wore one of those charms to get into their own home. Jenny and Rupert’s too. They needed it for any place they’d protected in that way. The magic made them mystical, that was all there was too it.

And the last time she’d lost her charm? She’d had to sit outside the open door to the dorm room until Tara came home and gave her a spare from inside.

That’d taken a little bit of explaining.

“Look,” he reached past Tara, and she flinched as his hand came near her face. He didn’t seem to notice her reaction though, with his hand over the threshold he waved it around behind her.

“Excuse my manners,” he added.

He could get inside.

Oh tremendous joy.

At least they knew he was human though.

Or perhaps a better way to put it was he wasn’t anything mystical.

Like Rupert, the only magic Tara had said she’d ever seen him do was ritualised, it didn’t come from within. It wasn’t mystical in nature. The ingredients took and transferred the power – and that was why it took time to prepare.

Their magic was instant – but it all came from within. That was the difference.

He could get inside their home.

But if he was human then… How was he back?

She had to ask that? Lil old human me? The magic within her wasn’t a result of coming back to life. It was who she was. It’d been there before she’d been killed. She just hadn’t known it.

And…

And…

Who cared whether he was human? That wasn’t the criteria for being invited into the apartment. Miss Kitty came and went all the time.

She caught his hand and they locked eyes. She wondered whether the memory of the last time they’d been so close was playing in his mind. She knew it was in hers? “You can’t come in,” Willow said.

It didn’t seem necessary to say it was because he wasn’t welcome. Thresholds, charms and rituals be damned. She’d be the barrier if the protection spell couldn’t do the job.

She and Tara would keep him out.

“Yes, he can,” Tara said quietly, shocking Willow to the core.

With only a modestly triumphant smile, and even that just for a moment, he withdrew his hand.

“Tara? Baby?” Willow asked. She was confused as to why her girlfriend would let this happen. Why would she invite him in? Even if she wanted to know what he had to say, he could speak his piece just as well out here.

Why make things worse?

“Will, we have to,” Tara told her.

“No,” she said. “We don’t.”

“You wouldn’t want to appear ungrateful now would you Willow?” he asked. “May I call you Willow?”

“You can call me Yankee Doodle Dandy if you think we’re going to let you in here.” One of them had to be strong, one of them had to stand up to him and Tara didn’t seem like she was the one who could be.

Not this time. She could see how hard it was for her girlfriend – she just didn’t understand why.

Wasn’t it simple?

He was the big-bad. He was the thing they fought against every single night. Why was that tricky? What was complicating things for Tara?

“Willow, please,” Tara said. Her ever so expressive voice was full of hidden meanings now.

She just glowered at him, not moving out of the way. Until she moved, Tara couldn’t go anywhere but out. And until Tara moved he couldn’t come in.

“After you ladies,” he offered, but since he couldn’t come through them that wasn’t half as gallant as he was making it out to be.

Letting them walk into their own apartment first – when they didn’t want him here - why, thank you so much sir.

“And what do you mean ungrateful?” Willow challenged him as what he’d said actually registered with her. She stopped them before he could come through the door and Tara backed up into her, not realising.

“Oh, don’t take offence, Miss Rosenberg. But everything you have is due – at least in some small part – to me. I’d say that merits a little gratitude.”

Willow spluttered.

It wasn’t true. It just wasn’t true. Yes, he’d played a part in their past, but that was like saying everything they had now was down to her fifth grade teacher. Or Great-Uncle Wilbur who’d visited once upon a time and left her a toy giraffe.

The link was pretty tenuous as far as she was concerned. And they knew from Wolfram and Hart’s interest in them that they’d always been fated to be together. Nothing could’ve interfered – the law firm had utterly relied on it for their project.

So what could he have done that gave them everything they had? That they wouldn’t have had any other way?

“Don’t you agree, Tara?”

Willow was horrified to see her girlfriend nod, confirming it to him. Her, still-building, surprise was such that she allowed Tara to ease her aside and they came back inside the apartment.

“What a lovely vase,” he commented, pausing at the gift Ira had brought back from his travels and they’d placed in the living room. “I had one just like it once,” he commented.

“But see?! The vase is nothing to do with you,” Willow pointed out, clinging to the obvious examples and hating herself for the inadequacy of her argument. Nearly four years of college and a splutter was all she could manage? That and ‘the vase is nothing to do with you?’

Where was the philosophy? The determinism? The chaos theory?

Way to go me. Next stop, captain of the debate team.

“Perhaps, but lets not fall out about it,” he said graciously.

And Tara nodded again; Willow saw her do it and couldn’t help feeling betrayed. She understood why Tara was letting him do this to her, but it didn’t mean she had to like it. Tara did feel it. She felt the gratitude he meant, even if she really knew better.

You couldn’t stop feelings. They weren’t entirely rational – and that was what could make some of them very special.

Okay… so he’d brought Tara to Sunnydale, but prophecies had made it clear they’d have found each other anyway. And yes, his death had kind of been the last straw for Tara, prompting the end of the vampire’s existence and clearing the decks for her to be brought back. Alive and able to love.

And so what if he’d left them the apartment and tuition fees for their entire college careers… Yeah, they didn’t even have any loans - unlike most of their friends.

Financially they were much better off and that’d impact the rest of their lives together. She was willing to admit that.

But what he’d given them wasn’t even a part of what they had now. Without him they’d have still found each other, they’d have found a way for all of it. Even if they’d ended up in debt. Even if they’d never made it to college – they’d still have found each other and that was 99.999999 – lots and lots more nines than that – percent of what they had.

One hundred percent of what was important to them.

So why was Tara agreeing with him? Was it guilt?

She reached out and found Tara’s mind… closed to her.

Firmly clamped shut – at every level. Closed to her reassurance and to revealing what she was feeling too.

Why would Tara do that?

It was yet another shock, finding Tara closed like that – keeping her out. Why would she ever do that? Unless there was something Tara didn’t want her to know?

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” he said. “It never felt like a home before.”

“Th-Thank you,” Tara mumbled.

Thank you? We’re saying ‘thank you’ to him now?

“So how’s my favourite girl?” he asked of Tara, making Willow bristle. And didn’t he just know it? Even if he gave no sign.

“F-fine thank you,” she replied.

Fine? And another thank you?

“And you Miss Rosenberg?” he asked, turning to her and trying to make her feel part of the conversation.

“Oh, I’m mad as – ” Tara’s hand dropped on her arm. So Willow forced her sweetest, most sarcastic, smile. “I’m fine too – just peachy actually. Peachy as a peach pie. Thanks so much for asking.”

“Yes,” he mused, ignoring her sarcasm. “You do have a little more colour in your cheeks than the last time I saw you.”

Now there was a pointed remark.

“I’ve found that being alive agrees with me,” Willow said, not willing to give him the satisfaction of reacting to his prompting her memory. It didn’t stop her feeling – she just wasn’t going to show it.

Besides, it seemed like it might be a bad time to mention that the last time she’d seen him he’d been dying on the floor in his office. And that she’d have had more colour then if she’d found his blood worth drinking, instead of letting it drain away to stain the carpet.

“I see you have too,” she added as an afterthought, just to raise the topic.

“Touché,” he smiled that charming smile of his.

She wasn’t falling for it, no more than he believed she would. Rather than trying to persuade her of whatever it was he wanted, he’d written her off as a lost cause. It seemed Tara was the battleground and with their connection cut off and with her lover agreeing with him…

Being nice…

It seemed she was losing that battle?

Now how did that happen?

“I have to say it just warms my heart to find the two of you still together after these few years,” he said after a few moments awkward silence in which at least Tara didn’t thank him again. “Was there ever any doubt though?” he wondered.

“Never,” Willow said and moved closer to the woman who loved her. “None at all.”

“Oh, I think it was touch and go there for a while,” he countered. “I actually thought she might stake you earlier on in your… relationship. Tara being the principled young woman she was then – and with a powerful hatred of vampires. Not that it would’ve made any difference to the two of you in the long term.”

It would’ve saved Tara some pain… and not just emotionally. But he was right – she could still have been brought back. Tara could’ve killed her the night they first met and it still would’ve worked out in the end.

And if things had happened that way, he probably wouldn’t have been dead. Tara wouldn’t have done it herself. Not to a human. Not to him of all humans. No, Tara had needed the vampire for that.

“Why are you here?” Willow asked, “Talking as we are of being brought back from death.”

He smiled. He always smiled.

“Why are any of us here? It’s one of the great questions of the ages. Fortunately, unlike many others, I am blessed with my own answer.”

“And that is?” Willow demanded a little impatiently.

“I’m here – in Sunnydale – to do what must be done.”

Oh great, what a ‘swell’ response. “That’s no answer,” Willow said. Another self-aggrandizing phrase from the I-know-better-than-anyone-else-wannabe-big-bad.

“Will…” Tara said, trying to get her attention.

“But it’s all the answer I can give you right now,” he said.

“Try harder,” Willow said angrily. If he was just a man, then why were they even worried about him?

“It might behove you to show some manners young lady,” he snapped, the smile finally gone. “Respect for one’s elders is the guiding tenet of every successful community.”

“Behove me? What is that? A foreign language? Who talks like that?” Apart from a certain English librarian they knew.

“As I was saying, respect is the key,” he pressed the point.

“I have respect for my elders,” Willow said. “I just don’t have respect for you. You’re not even Mayor anymore.”

She could respect elected officials. Well, most elected officials. But he didn’t even have that any more. He was a nobody.

“Willow, don’t,” Tara warned her, and this time the meaning was as clear from the tone as the words.

“Perhaps you’ll come to learn it then…” he said calmly, infuriating her with his smile again. He’d gotten over his snappiness in a matter of moments.

It was all the more maddening because that sounded like… Here in their apartment? He was! Right here… “What was that?” she demanded, wanting him to admit. For Tara to realise that there was nothing in him that deserved the respect she was giving him

“Willow, no,” Tara begged again.

“Baby, you heard what he said,” she said to Tara. Would this shake her out of whatever it was that was stopping her treating him like the intruder he was? “He just threatened me, right here in our own apartment. He threatened me.” Then turning back to him, she asked him. “Didn’t you?”

“Not at all, I just suggested that perhaps you had more to learn. And now I’m suggesting that you stop acting like a spoiled child who didn’t get what she wanted for Christmas.” This time it was his words, rather than the meaning behind them, that carried the menace.

“I was raised Jewish,” Willow pointed out to him. Suck on that! It was one of her better instant ripostes.

“Hanukkah then, the point remains. Now shush young lady, I came here to see Tara. Not you.”

Shush?? Willow nearly exploded – and that could be a very literal thing if she was pushed far enough. Far enough to lose control.

If she hadn’t believed him human she might’ve incinerated him here and now, the couch he was sitting on – without invitation – be damned. “This is our home! You don’t come here and tell me to be quiet. And by the way Tara’s my girlfriend, not yours.”

From the highs of quick as a flash verbal ripostes to the ner-ner-ner-ner-ner school of argument in one easy step. Why wouldn’t Tara just see what he was and toss him out of here? Preferably through the window.

Tara’s hand tightened around hers. “Willow?”

“Yes?”

“Please be quiet, love.”

She lapsed into silence as Tara’s thumb caressed the inside of her palm. It was the only comfort she was receiving with Tara blocking their connection. When they touched their contact usually went up a level of intensity. But a touch here was just a touch. All the same, it was Tara and it was very welcome.

“Now, isn’t that better?” he asked without looking at her. “Do you know what?”

Tara looked at him.

“I think a bowl of fruit would look just great over on the side there. I said when I bought the place, ‘a bowl of fruit will look great on a sideboard against that wall.’ It’s the perfect place to ripen, display and pick-up fruit from. Young people today really don’t eat enough fruits and vegetables.”

Tara looked at the place he was indicating. They both did.

“Can you conjure one?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye. As if he was some kind of kindly old uncle.

Well, he wasn’t.

Tara shook her head. That wasn’t how their powers worked. She couldn’t just create something out of nothing.

Not at all disappointed, he smiled again. “Just wondering. I understand there have been some changes in your powers since we last spoke so I thought I’d check. But if we want a fruit bowl for that I guess I’ll just have to bring you one next time I come over.”

Next time? Willow bit her tongue.

“You wanted to – to say something?” Tara asked, stumbling less over her words again now.

Was that a sign she had more control? That the fear was subsiding into simple wariness?

“First of all I wanted to reintroduce myself, to let you know I was back in town,” he said.

“We knew,” Willow pointed out. Wanting, at the very least, to surprise him with that.

But he seemed unruffled by the revelation. “Of course you did – I’d have been shocked if you hadn’t picked up on it by now.”

“What – what else?” Tara stumbled again and Willow gave her as much comfort as she could, just by her presence. By squeezing her hand in the way she was.

“I wanted to reassure you that I’m not your enemy,” he said.

Ah, now they came to it.

“Why?” Tara asked.

Not ‘why would we believe you?’ No, this was ‘why are you telling us?’

“I know what happens to your enemies, it’s why I brought you here. I didn’t want any unpleasantness.”

“Believe me when I say, this is unpleasant enough,” Willow pointed out to him. “You can’t believe we’ll let you come back and ascend?” she asked. “That we’d let you kill people? Hurt them? We’re not going to let you tear the town apart just because you want to be a big snake! We just got it in good shape again!”

And there had to be something Freudian in that whole snake thing anyway. Men and their metaphors.

“Yes, yes you have. You’ve absolutely justified my faith in your both. You’ve kept things beautifully under control.” Praise wasn’t what she’d expected from him, though perhaps Tara had. “Mint?” he asked, taking the subject in an entirely new direction.

They ignored his offer and he popped one in his mouth. “Just half a calorie in each one,” he explained. “And they actually help keep your teeth clean too.”

“Do you think you’re taking control again?” Willow asked, seeing how he’d brought her rant to a stop, in part with the offer of a minty treat. Now that was taking control of the situation. You had to hand it to him. He knew how to do it.

He just smiled though. She supposed that was what you called an enigmatic smile – one that didn’t tell you anything at all.

“Even if we didn’t do anything,” Willow continued. “Everyone would know it was you.” They weren’t going to vote for a dead man.

“Perhaps in the same way as everyone knows there are vampires and demons?” he wondered.

And there he might have a point. It wasn’t something she’d considered with regard to his reappearance.

“All anyone knows is that I died. You know as well as I do that their minds will accept anything necessary to in order to explain away how I could still be here.”

Willow did have to admit it. Human self-delusional to avoid uncomfortable truths was something they relied on to remain anonymous. And there had been her own return from the beyond too, accepted by a number of people who’d ‘known’ she’d been killed by the vampires.

He was exactly right.

“I’ve been Mayor of this town for seventy-eight of its hundred-some years and so far no one has cared whether it’s Richard Wilkins the first, second, third or tenth. As long as I they can see I’m doing my best for them. They won’t care this time either.”

Willow paused and then said the words that’d occurred to her during that little monologue. “You really do like to hear yourself talk don’t you?”

And still Tara remained… what was that word? Supine? Maybe that wasn’t the word – but it’d do. It was frustrating. It felt like she had to be mad for both of them. And she was still locked out of Tara’s mind.

Why was that? Why couldn’t Tara treat him like he deserved to be treated?

Even if you excused his plans to be a demon and them killing him because he’d never had chance to fulfil them… What about what he’d done to Lilly, and little Ruth? To the whole Maclay family? What about that?

“Which is strange when so much poopie comes out of it,” she finished.

She winced inside. ‘Poopie,’ in hindsight, probably wasn’t the most forceful word she could’ve used.

As his expression changed she knew must’ve touched a nerve though. He seemed to grow, without moving at all. The lights even appeared dimmer in the room – but nothing had really changed. It was all just… What was it? Her imagination? Trick of the light? Or was he really doing something?

Or was his anger manifesting?

“Have a care Miss Rosenberg, I haven’t forgotten anything,” he said.

“What does that mean, Dick?” Willow asked, feeling almost as if she was alone in the room. Tara was so still, so quiet. Almost acquiescent when she was addressed by him. But the way her lover’s hand responded – or rather failed to - in lieu of their real connection, all she knew was Tara was with her.

She wanted him to threaten her though – so Tara would join her in tossing him out on his ass.

“I’ll excuse you, for now,” he said. “Because you weren’t your… current lively self when it happened. Not everyone here has that excuse though.”

Significantly he looked towards, but not directly at Tara. He was threatening her through Tara now? They were hardly defenceless – but what was the most terrible thing he could do to her? Especially if he held some anger towards Tara as well.

She looked at Tara too – the hand clasped in hers no more active than the rest of her girlfriend.

He couldn’t do anything to Tara could he? He had to know Tara was by far the toughest target of them all. Rupert, Jenny and the kids… Toni… they were much more vulnerable. Creatures and demons had been trying to kill Tara for the best part of a decade now.

No one had managed it yet.

But that didn’t mean it was impossible…

She swallowed… she couldn’t stop the reaction. It was the most terrible thing he could threaten her with, even if she didn’t believe he could manage it. But she couldn’t back down – especially if Tara wouldn’t stand up for herself. One of them had to stand -

And then one of them was…

Tara standing now, Willow had barely registered the fact their hands had slipped apart as she got up. And the whole room was…

Whatever he’d done before didn’t even signify compared to this. That’d seemed like a trick of the light. A feeling. This was really happening.

The room didn’t feel like it was shaking. It was shaking. Willow could feel the power – Tara-power surging through the whole place.

Through her too. She knew the power so well; it was intrinsically linked with her own. They drew it through each other to the greatest effect and Tara was doing so now.

Everything in the room, everything made of wood at least, shivered and rippled. Then, as Willow gasped in surprise, the various pieces of wood flexed, sprouted and surged towards him – halting, poised, at his head, chest and torso. He wasn’t held, but to move more than a few inches would risk sharp, wooden death.

Or at least painful impalement.

Willow had seen this trick before, of course, but usually Tara worked it from a seed – a root… something living. This was long dead wood, varnished too. The power you’d need for that, for so many different pieces… Sensitives across Sunnydale would be getting headaches tonight. How much power was in use here to rejuvenate a table into a living weapon?

Ouch.

Then, finally, Tara spoke to him as Willow had wanted her to. But quietly all the same. “Threaten her – or anyone we know – one more time.”

There was no penalty named, but the implication was clear. Tara was prepared to do – herself – what the vampire had done to him before.

He looked at her, all serious at first. Then he was smiling broadly, examining the wooden cage that both held him and threatened his life. “Bravo, bravo my dear. A spectacular demonstration. But if you’re not going to end my life now, then please release me.”

Tara held him there though. Long enough for doubt to flicker in his mind, and across his face. He believed in those few moments, he really believed what Tara would do.

It was long enough for doubt to flicker through her mind too – was Tara really going to do this?

Cut off from touching her lover in the most powerful way – from feeling their minds together – and now seeing Tara so threatening, so powerful and yet perfectly controlled. She had to admit to herself that she had no idea what Tara might do.

This might be the scariest Tara had ever been, at least that she’d seen.

She thought she knew what Tara would do, but she couldn’t be sure. She thought Tara wouldn’t do it… Wouldn’t take his life. But she really didn’t know that for sure.

“I must know your intentions Tara,” he said, still trapped within the writhing cage. At the tips the branches resembled snake heads, but sharper and deadlier. “That’s why I’m here.”

Was this the truth he was telling? The whole truth? He wanted to know what Tara was going to do to him not now, but in the future.

“You want to know our intentions?” Willow asked. Tara had him trapped, threatened with his end. Again. Was there anyone in the world who’d killed someone twice? They might well be the first.

“If you think you have to kill me – to protect the community – then I’ll understand that. But I’d ask you to do it now,” he said.

So he wasn’t going to beg Tara not to do it? No, he wouldn’t ever beg. But she’d have thought he’d ask, persuade… cajole. Perhaps this was his answer though, reverse psychology.

“Do it and accept the consequences,” he added.

Consequences? What did he mean by that?

Was it something as obvious as having a dead human here in their apartment? No convenient dust that could just be cleaned up with a vacuum cleaner when humans died. Actually, they could get kind of messy.

Then there’d be police… Toni being taken into care, even if nothing was proven against them. Was that what he meant?

Even if it wasn’t – it could still be on the cards. “Baby?” she asked, concerned. She’d been the one who wanted Tara to take a firm line and now she was…

“If you hurt anyone – anyone at all,” Tara said.

Clearly he wasn’t the only one who could threaten.

“I’m wounded, Tara. When did you ever know me to hurt anyone?” he challenged. “You only condemned me for what you thought I’d do. Perhaps I gave you some reason for that, but you killed me for it.”

“And I would again,” Tara told him firmly. “To protect those same people. I’m pretty certain that Sunnydale doesn’t need a giant snake demon eating the school kids. It’s just a hunch though.”

Willow had to agree.

“My dear, compassion is a wonderful trait for someone in your position,” he told her. “And it’s always been almost as impressive as your sense of duty to the town. But it’s quickly coming to the time when you need to see the bigger picture, Tara. And that’s something you never, quite, understood before.”

Tara simply nodded, then added, “Willow’s right – you do like to hear yourself talk. I didn’t realise that before tonight.”

The wood withdrew, over a matter of seconds, freeing him from its threatening embrace. “You can go now,” Tara said. It wasn’t an offer, it was an instruction.

Decision made – and yet neither of them had given the other any guarantees at all.

“Please listen to me, Tara,” he insisted, not moving from the spot.

“I’m done listening to you, I was a long time ago,” Tara told him. “Right about the time I understood what I was doing by working for you.”

The former Mayor frowned. “It might, as I said to your girlfriend, behove you to show me some gratitude too,” he told her, still choosing not to leave. “I gave you a purpose when you had none. A purpose that kept you alive and gave you the people you love today.”

Reminding Tara about that had to be a sign of his desperation though. Didn’t he think Tara knew all that? Or at least knew his opinions on it? They’d been over and over that ground when they’d been worried about his return.

And their decision? They couldn’t let it sway them if an important decision needed to be taken.

“I always had a purpose,” Tara told him, slipping her hand back into Willow’s. “I just didn’t know it what it was at the time.”

“Yet you still feel bound to protect my town?” he asked, smiling once more.

“We’ll protect the people we love – and everyone else here,” Tara clarified, not accepting this was his town anymore.

“I’m not your enemy, Tara,” he said quietly. “I never was. You know that don’t you?”

“Wanna bet?” Willow asked, sensing that she wasn’t just a spectator anymore. They were together again, taking the same position – even if they weren’t about to connect at the moment.

“Let me explain –” he asked, but she interrupted him.

“No,” she said. “Let me explain.” She drew herself up beside Tara and confronted him. “We know. We know what you did.”

“To whom young lady?”

“Lilly, Ruth… all the others. Remember them?”

Now was when they found out whether it was really true, at least they would if he told them the truth. But Tara was right; he’d never been a liar. He always came out and said just what he thought.

“Oh that? That’s what all this hostility is about?” he asked, seeming surprised not that they knew, but that they were making such an issue of it. By confirming the truth for them he also left Willow wanting to boil the life out of him a degree at a time.

What he’d done to all the women in that family. To Tara too… her Mom. “That’s all you have to say?” she demanded.

“I didn’t do anything that wasn’t necessary to make the future what it is – and to safeguard this town. There were things that needed to change when the future took a new path.”

What was that? The future taking a new path? But it didn’t matter why – just that he’d done it at all.

“You turned them into prisoners, and worse,” she argued. “Did you really have to do it to Ruth?” That was what’d bothered her most in her dreams. He’d come back, misled that family and instead of being a source of hope plunged them deeper into their problems.

“I made Tara what she is today,” he pointed out without boasting.

Was he saying this was something to do with that? With bringing them together? Or at least using that certainty to do with their fate? She asked the question. “This is still about bringing us together?”

“Not at all, stop being so self-centred young lady,” he said dismissively.

“What?!”

“Tara’s presence here in Sunnydale was and is critical,” he said. “You are incidental except in the sense you make her happy – which I’m grateful for. And you have your uses it seems.”

“To safeguard your precious town until your ascension?” she asked.

It was their precious town too though – they’d shown that enough over the years. And he wouldn’t miss that.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you really think if I just wanted to ascend I’d waste all this time and effort here? Do you really think all the deals I’ve made with the dark powers are just to buy my way into demon form?”

“Yes.”

It really did seem that simple to her. They’d researched it; they knew how difficult and rare ascensions were. Timing was everything.

“Sometimes I despair of today’s educational standards,” he said. “You should’ve learned to look beyond the obvious by now, especially in this town.”

“You were the Mayor when I was in high school,” Willow countered. She wasn’t sure it was the best defence. Had he really had that much input on education policy?

“And I hold myself responsible – and there, my dear, is the point,” he said.

“Responsibility is the point?” Willow asked, wondering how long Tara would remain quiet. No, not quiet. Aloof.

“Absolutely. But I can see this is a difficult time, I’ll come back,” he offered. “When you’ve had time to collect your thoughts and reflect on what I’ve said.”

“Please feel free not to bother,” Willow said firmly. They didn’t want this conversation again, and they certainly didn’t want him in here again.

“And is that your position, Tara?” he asked, looking to Willow’s girlfriend.

Tara nodded.

“It’s always a shame when friends fall out. But time has moved on. Perhaps you’ll allow me some parting words though?” he requested.

Tara nodded once again.

“The responsible thing for you to do, Tara Maclay, is to let me go about my business,” he said.

“I warned you,” Tara reminded him. “And I’m sorry but I meant it. If you hurt anyone…”

“I know what you said. You wouldn’t be the fine young woman you are if you hadn’t. But hear me too. If you won’t help me then at least don’t interfere with what needs to be done. You’ll only hurt the people you love.”

He made to leave then turned and looked back at them. “I was wrong. The bowl of fruit would look better over there.” He popped another mint in his mouth without offering them one.

And he was gone, leaving them looking at each other.

----------

Richard Wilkins stepped out of the building, into his waiting car.

“Well?” Ethan asked. “Will they help?”

He’d always been dubious about that possibility, nor was he entirely happy sitting here waiting for the former Mayor right outside the Witches apartment. Those were the kind of mistakes that could lead to a spectacular kicking of his ass.

“Unfortunately I never had a chance to ask them for it. They… weren’t expecting me and that made it awkward. Lizzie was right, I should’ve called ahead.”

“Your reputation precedes you,” Ethan said with a smile.

“Perhaps,” he agreed.

“So what now?” Ethan wondered.

“We proceed, of course,” the former Mayor said. “This changes nothing and wasn’t entirely unexpected.”

“Go ahead without them?” That made more work for him, but it was sure to be safer than getting the Witches to work with him. The only problem was that without them – even if he could find the resources – there was going to be a gap.

One he couldn’t fill.

“Certainly,” Wilkins told him.

“Will they try to stop you?” he asked.

If they try to stop you, they’ll be on the trail to me.

“Probably, so we’ll have to be sure to keep them distracted. I’m sure you have some ideas – as do I. But, and I can’t stress this enough Mr Rayne, don’t hurt them.”

Distractions? In part that was already in hand – Holland’s contact should be along any time now. That was bound to help. Drusilla and the Witches could deal with the same individual.

Besides Ethan wasn’t sure he knew how to hurt them if he wanted to. At least not mystically, not without taking more dangerous risks than the injury he’d be able to inflict upon them. “Understood – but they’re nothing but a threat to you.”

“No, they’re more than a threat – they’re absolutely essential.”

Hadn’t they just agreed that Rosenberg and Maclay weren’t going to be helping? “So they’ll come around?” Ethan checked. Was the old Mayor still expecting them to fill the gap?

“I’ll have their assistance, one way or another. I know my Tara better than anyone. I understand her best when she’s working in extremis. She’ll do the right thing in the end.”

“Oh, and you can take this now.” He gave the charm back to Ethan, the one that had allowed him into their rigorously protected apartment.

As far as charms went it’d been some of Ethan’s finest work – disguising the very magic that would let his client into the apartment from a spell that blocked that magic’s entry.

“I’m pleased it worked,” he said.

“It worked perfectly, thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He’d had some doubts after all, but it did open up a world of possibilities now that they had access to the places the Witches had protected again.

“Have you any idea how they might’ve found out about things I did in the past?” Wilkins asked. “From long before they – or you – were born?”

Ethan thought about that. He certainly hadn’t been expecting the question, and they were halfway back to the place the former Mayor was calling home before he came up with an answer.

“There… there can be side-effects from a violent death. If a victim died a violent death at the hands of another, a connection is often formed – one that comes into play as they’re brought back. They can be haunted by the memories of their victim as they return from death.” It was all theory of course. No enough people had been brought back from death to test the validity.

“Hmm, that explains it then. Mint? Not even one calorie each.”

“Thank you,” Ethan said and popped it into his mouth.

-----------------

“What just happened?” Willow asked.

Tara walked over to the sideboard, noting the blemishes in the wood and the cracked varnish where she’d brought the wood to life. It’d all be like this she supposed. Some things might even be ruined. “We’ll have to re-varnish everything,” she said.

“Varnish?”

“Uh-huh.” She really couldn’t see any other way, unless they went and bought new furniture, and now wasn’t the time to be spending that kind of money.

“Not our biggest worry, sweetie,” Willow said.

“I know,” Tara replied.

Willow wrapped her arms around her from behind, holding her tightly, head on her shoulder. They stood there, breathing together for a little while. “Thinking about it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why’d you close your mind to me?” her girlfriend asked.

Tara had wondered how long it might take Willow to ask. “I didn’t – I mean I did, but I closed it to him. I never figured out what he was capable of.”

What if he had been able to read her mind somehow? To know what she would and wouldn’t do? He might’ve forced her to kill him right there, with all the problems that’s cause.

Besides she didn’t want to kill a person, a real person. Not even him.

“Oh… it was just a surprise, losing you.” More than a surprise, Tara could tell. Willow had really been bothered by it. They spent a few moments luxuriating in the connection between them. It was like a warm, fragrant bath with lighted candles all around. That was how Willow felt to her.

“You never lost me, you never will,” she promised and they kissed.

“So where’d your thoughts take you?” Willow asked a few moments later, after they’d rocked in each others arms for a little while longer.

“There’s something wrong,” Tara announced.

“Gee, you think?” Willow teased her.

“No – I mean there’s something wrong with him.” She had no idea what it was, and that was what was bothering her. She didn’t like not being able to tell what his motives were.

Had he changed? Could he? He’d been building up his ascension for over a century – maybe more than that.

Could he leave that behind? Had he?

Willow thought about what she’d said. “He’s been recently dead. It takes it out of you. Changes you. Trust me on that.”

“I’m serious” Tara insisted.

“So am I! What do you want to do?” Willow asked.

“It’s time to see Rupert and Jenny,” Tara said.

****************

[Darth Pacula]

G'day Katharyn!

Sigh. Almost a full week's gone by, and I haven't left feedback. For shame. And yet, I can still claim dibs! What's up with that?

Ahh! So Tara isn't so much afraid of Wilkins (who I keep wanting to call Willykins ) out of what he might do to her, but because of what she did to him. He represents the darkest period of her life, what she regards as a moral misstep.

You might note that I said what 'she' regards as a moral misstep. Personally, I had no problems with his murder; from a practical point of view it was the smart decision considering what information they had on hand. Just as you yourself said, was the suffering of all the Maclay women from Lily to Tara worth the end result? If it was, then why can't the same be said for Wilkin's murder.

Of course, neither Willow or Tara are going to see it that. I have the benefit of being a ruthless thug, at least when compared to them.

So this guilt of Tara's manifests itself by her letting herself be pushed around by Wilkins, which in turn leaves Willow somewhat out in the cold. Some writers might have let Willow take offense at Tara blocking off their connection, it would be easy enough. But you've always said that you wanted to avoid all of the relationship drama that is so often a staple of any kind of fiction, so well done!

In regards to their protection spell, I was trying to remember if Wilkins had ever visited the apartment before. Without going back to reread god knows how many parts (I know, lazy ) I think he might have, but back when Tara first arrived and she hadn't done the protection spell yet.

That being said, that little amulet of Ethan's that allowed Wilkins unrestricted entry ... that was a nice touch. It reinforces our girls belief that Wilkins is indeed all human, and thusly not someone they can kill with impunity.

But what is he up to? To do what must be done? Yeah, I agree with Willow. That's about as useful as oars on an airplane. That little phrase can be used to justify an number of atrocities, all in the name of some faceless common good.

It raises an interesting thought though. Was his ascension the end result of all Wilkins scheming? Or was it simply another means towards an end? What would necessitate turning yourself into a giant snake? Hmmm ...

So, Lizzie wasn't a misstep. In fact he wants to recruit them? What the devil for? Argh! Too many mysteries! I love it! Even if my brain is starting to overheat ...

That was a nice and subtle reminder that Wilkins is indeed not without power of his own, even if it is just a beefed up form of charisma. Just because he hasn't manifested much in the way of dangerous abilities personally so far doesn't mean that he doesn't have them.

Oh and I think Tara's reaction, which was tres cool by the way, made it quite clear where her breaking point lies. She'll suffer his slings and arrows against herself personally, because of the guilt she feels for her part in his demise, but threaten Willow? Bad Move, emphasis on the capital letters!

To steal a phrase from 'Once More With Feeling', where do we go from here?

Cheers,
Paul.

[Katharyn]

G'day Darth.

What's up with you getting dibs a week later? Oh, that's easy. I scared all my readers away a long time ago Between the:
1) Illness enforced absence for a year
2) Turnover in Kittens
3) Scary length of this story
4) Total switch of style in second chronicle
We're down to a select few now! And my longest term reader/source of ideas/former beta reader works on a shift basis that doesn't always let her get to parts very quickly, depends on when they're posted. So, you get dibs. I will admit I was worried I'd post another part with no response at all.

Wilkins's death was the final act of a part of Tara's life she is not very proud of. Yes, in that time she was doing good, and the person she was then could certainly justify what she did but she's not proud of it by any means. In addition it was (almost) the last act of vamp-Willow. An act that Tara pushed her into (it wouldn't have take much persuasion) before staking her.

One last death.

You could argue that Tara regards herself as being too much of a coward to do the deed herself. I wouldn't agree with it, but I think it might be there in her mind. And to get a vampire to do it for her... especially THAT vampire. Ouch.

And yes, from an omniscient PoV, in this reality only the Mayor's interference helped result in the T/W we see here. Yes, they'd have been together somehow, but I've never claimed that them being fated to be together (in any reality) would necessarily result in a long life and happiness. This whole vengeance demon reality is the anti-thesis of season sux for me. In other realities theycould get together and bad things could happen. As those who watched that crap saw. So, given that should we/they cut the Mayor some slack? Well, we might but they don't really KNOW it. They might understand the argument, but they've never experienced the alternative to show how well off they are in this reality.

They've made a vampire dominated Sunnydale a better place than it was. People who were dead in the prime reality are alive here. Good people.

I'm losing my thread, but ultimately that - in part - comes back to Wilkins knowing he needed Tara or them... and doing what he did to get them.

Is Tara being pushed around by him? At the start of the part, probably yes. But by the end of the part she's drawn a line in the sand. She would, with one wrong word from him, have carried out her threat. There would've been consequences (and not just the obvious legal ones) for her but she'd have done it.

As for the strength of their relationship - just as this is (almost) a better Sunnydale than exists in canon - this fic is also intended to show that you can do drama without breaking open relationships. That's the EASY way. This way is hard since most cliches are built around it to some extent. But it's easier when I approach it with them almost being one character. A character can be conflicted but unless they were mentally ill they wouldn't fighting against themselves. I just hope it's still interesting in a character sense.

Had Wilkins visited the apartment before? Good question. I too couldn't bear (or spare time) to read it all to find out. I agree with your memory though. Yes he did, but not before it was secured. Certainly once VW was involved I doubt he turned up.

I would remind you though that actually Tara and Willow can't get into their own apartment without their own charms. It's not entirely a "human" thing, but more about beings/creatures who are touched by the mystical. Tara, a witch can't. A vampire can't. Nor Ethan or the Mayor. But a big bear could (that's not a spoiler) and Miss Kitty doesn't have anything ties to her collar except a bell.

And you're absolutely right about the "what must be done" being an excuse for anything. I am being kind of vague (though weren't you the person who said you thought you knew?) so as not to spoil the revelation. He probably would tell them now but it doesn't suit me to make it that clear at this point.

I think the show in S3 was kind of vague about Wilkins. They set this guy up and, I think, I've been fairly true to the spirit of him in that season. It was all laid out, he was a villain but he created and loved the town - in his way. But then the reason for ascension was just... left hanging. So was it that he created the town ready to ascend then found he liked the responsibility etc later, or did he have a purpose? I choose not to believe he wouldn't have a purpose.

Don't read too much into Lizzie though. It wasn't a mistake, but really she's back cos he wanted his secretary back! As for wanting to recruit them... consider what they are.

This week I wrote the first, handwritten, draft of the final part (exluding the epilogue which is a certainty now.) That means that, in one form or another, at least some of every every part now exists... all I have to do now is redraft, add, revise, and present it! Still on the long haul! Hope you stick around.

Very thought-provoking thanks, as usual!

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - When to Say No (Part 205)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Tara and Willow talk with Jenny and Rupert about the Mayor’s reappearance.
Disclaimer: I 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. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: This is the kind of part that’d be easy to gloss over in a sentence, but I think is much too important for that. This is a conversation you have to have – otherwise the reader is entitled to say ‘but why didn’t they just…?’ In other words I’m so anal I want every t crossed and every I dotted so no one can pick holes.
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

When to Say No

By

Katharyn Rosser



It was certainly a different Tara and Willow from the last time they’d been here to talk about him.

Then, having hidden dreams about the ‘man’ who’d now returned to life – and Sunnydale – the girls had been a little ashamed. Things had gotten just a little bit heated too. Accusations had flown, mainly in one direction if she was honest.

And while she was being honest with herself, Jenny was a little ashamed of how she and Rupert had behaved that day.

These were the things that tested a friendship and, she supposed, made them stronger. But that didn’t mean you had to feel good about them. Even weeks or months later.

The apologetic, slightly ashamed way they’d come here last time had probably stoked up what’d followed.

This time Tara and Willow were all business.

Now they were here to report, consult and to at least plan to take action. No apologies. There was nothing to apologise for. Well, apart from that little delay in actually telling them – but that was about finding more out. She had to admit the additional information was useful.

What action they should take was where the conversation had stalled. Or perhaps, more accurately, the question would be what action could they take?

In terms of planning even the flipchart, ‘borrowed’ from the library where Rupert never used it, was in use. Which just showed how serious it was, they didn’t get the flipchart out for just any old crisis.

Just the ones where they didn’t know what to do – a pretty rare state of affairs.

In fact the debate as to whether this was actually a crisis or not had occupied them for the best part of half an hour. They’d agreed to disagree eventually and moved on.

Since then possible actions with the pros and cons had been listed on the chart – they seemed to be adding much more to the ‘cons’ column than the pros at the moment though, for whichever choice of action they advocated.

No matter what they speculated they could do about it, there were always lots of downsides.

Doing nothing was all but ruled out, but doing something was trickier. What ‘something’ were they supposed to do? This had never really come up before.

Tara and Willow had appeared on the doorstep about ninety minutes ago, apparently having grabbed Toni and headed on over as soon as the girl arrived home from Mal’s.

Toni – from her expression on arrival – hadn’t been too happy to be leaving with no explanation, and was still less impressed about being dismissed from adult company to take Faith upstairs for a play-date.

Much as Toni seemed to love Faith – a fifteen year old on a play-date with a (nearly) five year old? It hadn’t seemed fair, but they didn’t want anyone around while they went through this. Not Faith who’d blurt it to anyone she talked to, not Toni who shouldn’t know too much of the detail about Tara and Willow’s past.

Just in case they weren’t even signing. Toni couldn’t know what was being said if they just spoke, even if it felt weird to do that with her in the apartment with them. Usually they signed so that if she came in mid-conversation she’d pick it up.

Toni thought that was funny, and stupid, but to them it’d once seemed like courtesy and now it was habit.

But the young woman would know something was up if she walked in and they weren’t doing it. Better that than the alternative though.

As for Ben… he was only interested in one thing.

“Ow,” she said quietly as her son shifted his grip.

“Biting again?” Willow asked.

“Always,” Jenny told them through a grimace. Faith hadn’t been like this – but Ben… he seemed intent on chewing her nipple off every time he fed. At least that what it felt like.

No, Faith hadn’t been like this. Had she? Perhaps her memory was faulty. Must be getting old if I can’t tell.

“He’s hungry today,” Tara commented, sounding relieved to get away from the subject, even for a moment.

“Always,” Jenny agreed again.

Ben was, she was sure, going to be big. With Rupert’s height – that Faith seemed already to have inherited – and perhaps his late grandfather’s build, he probably wouldn’t have much trouble getting on the football team when he grew up.

By then his interest would probably be firmly back with boobs again.

“My son the titty chewer,” Jenny joked as Rupert came back with a new pot of coffee.

“Do we have to this discussion with everyone who comes to visit?” Rupert asked, sounding as tired as he looked about it.

“When he’s been chewing on you, you get the right to choose the topic of conversation,” she chided her husband.

All he could do was pour the coffee refills.

“You should hear the stories Ira tells about Willow.” Tara said, possibly to relieve Rupert. “Though they’re second hand – of course.”

Naturally, she doubted Willow had chewed on Ira’s nipple. At least she hoped not.

“Oh?” Jenny asked, trying to sound as if it didn’t really matter. Stories were always good, and everyone wanted to stay on her good side by being the one to tell them.

“Oh no,” Willow said. “No you don’t. We have perfectly serious conversations to have. Let’s not have any distractions.”

“Absolutely,” Rupert agreed. “No need for distractions.”

“We do need to get on,” Tara agreed, flashing a sign her way at the same time.

Two words.

Willow didn’t miss it though. “What do you mean ‘nothings changed!’?

“I guarantee you’re enjoying it more Willow’s Mom,” Jenny pointed out to Tara and her friend agreed with a nod while Willow spluttered. “So… Yes, let’s get on.”

Now that was fertile ground for the future.

“Okay…” Willow agreed, not finding anything else she could say. Jenny caught Tara blowing her girlfriend a kiss though.

“So we can’t do ‘nothing,’” Jenny summarised for them, taking them back to where they’d been before the new coffee.

“Yup,” Willow agreed. “That’s a big list of negatives under ‘Nothing.’”

“We knew that before I went for the coffee you all insisted on,” Rupert pointed out.

“I was summarising,” she told her husband. “Let’s cross it off.”

Rupert went to the flipchart, pulled the lid off the pen and was about to cross it out when Willow stopped him.

“No, use a different coloured pen.”

“Why?” Rupert asked.

“Because it looks more organised,” Willow told him. “So we can see what’s crossed out because we ruled it out and what’s crossed out because we made a mistake writing it where we wrote it but it’s not really ruled out because we haven’t had a chance to rule it in or out yet.”

“Finished?” Jenny asked with a smile.

“I think so,” Willow said, then stopped Rupert again. “Use the ruler, that’s what it’s there for.”

Rupert sighed and did as he was asked and Jenny saw Willow nod approvingly.

“So what can we do?” Tara asked, not for the first time. They must all have asked that at least a dozen times. Coffee and Willow-babble had just been a distraction.

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, you were just supposed to go out and kill the bad demons. They were good at that. Why did it have to be any harder than that? She broke the momentary silence that followed. “You all know what I think.”

“No,” Tara said firmly, and not for the first time either.

“Think about it,” Jenny pressed. “It may be the only way.”

What was that rule? Keep it simple stupid.

Tara wasn’t stupid – but they could still keep it simple. Kill him.

“We don’t do that,” Tara insisted.

“Oh for God’s sake,” Jenny exclaimed, losing her temper a little. This holier than thou attitude was going to get people hurt – and not the only person who needed to be. “We do it every night!” she told them. And they did – every night at least one person in this room was out there doing just what was necessary.

That was all she was asking for – that they do what was necessary.

At least if they couldn’t come up with a better plan, something no one had managed yet. Not even in concept.

“Not to humans. Not to people,” Tara said, sounding even more disturbed by the suggestion than she had been before. Perhaps before it’d been an idea. Now it was a firm proposition. One that Jenny wanted adding to the board.

Even if it had to be in a different coloured pen.

On the board they could take it seriously, consider it. Weigh the pros and cons. But so far the rest wouldn’t even talk about it, except to turn the idea down.

“I’m still not sure he qualifies as human,” Rupert said. “Despite what Willow said about him coming into their apartment. But in the absence of definitive knowledge on that subject we have to assume he is for now.”

Jenny was about to protest, but her husband waved it away and continued speaking.

“Taking such lethal action against a human goes against every tenet the Watcher’s Council has held dear for centuries.”

“The Watcher’s Council?” Willow asked, her voice dripping in scepticism, to the extent Jenny wondered if she’d actually found an ally.

It was just about the worst thing he could’ve said. Right up there with ‘a vampire wouldn’t kill him.’

“Yes?” he asked. “What about them?”

“Oh, nothing,” Willow said, denying her obvious feelings, she wasn’t fooling him or anyone else though.

Rupert, still proud of being a Watcher – in the historical sense – even if he didn’t agree with their more modern methods. The institution, if not their decisions, still meant a lot to him. He’d worked for them, his friends had and several people in his family – including his mother – had been Watchers too.

No one should expect him to lose that respect – no matter what the Council had done more recently. But equally he couldn’t expect Willow to forgive what the Council had done, or tried to do. To her and the woman she loved.

“No.” Willow said. “Actually it’s not nothing – not nothing at all. They were willing to kill Tara, to get you and Faith to do it,” Willow accused; she’d never hidden her disdain about the Watcher’s Council.

“That’s different,” Rupert pointed out in what Jenny always called his ‘superior’ voice. The one that said ‘if you don’t agree with me it’s just because you never went to Cambridge.’

“Different how?” Willow accused. “All she was doing was trying to help.”

Jenny sensed an opportunity to make her own argument here, one that they could hopefully start to all agree on. Even Rupert – once he saw past the blinkers he had when it came to the Council. “And Tara’s definitely human,” she agreed.

“Where were your tenets and rules then?” Willow demanded, flipping her support for Tara’s position on its head. Or seeming to.

“The entire situation was different,” Rupert said.

“Another difference?” Willow asked. “Seems like there’s a lot of differences stacking up – but you’ve yet to tell me how it’s different?”

“It’s different,” Rupert repeated, “because Tara was perceived – however erroneously – as a threat. To everything they were trying to accomplish.”

“Pffft,” Willow exclaimed loudly, clearly frustrated.

“And we don’t see the old Mayor as a threat?” Jenny asked, making the linkage Willow still didn’t seem to want to. She seemed to be sticking to Tara’s line, even now, but her frustration and scorn had to be playing into her position. “To everything we’re trying to accomplish? Making this town safe for our kids?”

“Yes, but – ” Rupert started.

“We’re not killing him,” Tara said firmly. In other circumstances Jenny would’ve smiled at Tara finding herself on the same side as Rupert, whose argument was based on the ethics of the group who’d wanted her to be killed.

As the saying went, irony was kind of ironic today.

Willow paused, perhaps unused to finding herself on the opposite side of an argument to Tara. If that was where they were. Before the break for coffee Jenny had been the only one advocating ending the ex-Mayor’s life. Now Rupert had possibly moved Willow over to her point of view. Even if it wasn’t for the right reason.

And that’d give them a two-two tie.

Tara and Willow were really were usually on one mind, but had Rupert really changed all that by mentioning the Council?

“On the other hand,” Willow said slowly, perhaps calming down a little. “What would it gain us? He might only come back again anyway – even if we did it.”

“That’s not why we’re saying no to killing him,” Tara said.

“Five years – if it buys us another five years – ” Jenny argued then stopped as she realised what Tara had said. Of course she’d known it, they all had – but for Tara to hint at it meant she was ready to say it.

“So why else aren’t we killing him?” Rupert asked, not at all disagreeing with her. He sounded like he wanted her to make the point to the rest of them, namely her being as Willow was already wavering. “I’m certainly not disputing it,” he explained. “I was just wondering about your reasons.”

“Why else? Because it’s wrong,” Tara said.

“That simple?” Jenny asked. Their discussions so far had been more practical. This was a new viewpoint, but utterly typical. It was part of why Tara was just the sort of person she was and why Jenny would trust her with their kids’ lives – and had done.

“That simple.”

“Listen – all of you,” Jenny suggested, but knowing Tara was probably right. From a certain point of view.

One she didn’t subscribe to, but she knew its power. It wasn’t like any of them hadn’t thought it – but there came a point that sometimes you had to do wrong to do right.

The last thing she wanted was to be proved right later – when it was too late. They’d let him live and then he’d done something terrible and she could say ‘I told you so.’ She didn’t want that.

She’d much prefer to be proved incorrect later – mistaken when it was already too late and he was gone – unable to hurt anyone. It was safer her way.

Guilt was better than grief.

“Right now he’s weak,” she argued. “He doesn’t have the office of Mayor, the police and the hangers on. We may never have a better chance than this.”

“No,” Tara said again.

“Why?!” Jenny asked. “We kill demons every night! Why not this one? Because he was your friend?”

“You know that’s not it. I had my ‘friend’ killed once before,” Tara said quietly.

“So it’s guilt then?” Jenny asked. She really did want to know. Could Tara be so blind as to approach this on pure moral grounds? Innocent till proven guilty?

They knew he wanted to be guilty.

“We’re not doing this because – ”

“It’s wrong. I know,” she said, interrupting Tara.

“No. It’s wrong because he hasn’t done anything,” Tara said.

“You killed him before because you knew he would,” Jenny pointed out. There it was. It should’ve been that simple. What had changed? Him… or Tara?

“Yes, I did.”

“So? Did he give you any clue he was still fixated on his ascension?” Jenny asked. If they knew he wanted to be a huge people-eating demon… How could Tara ignore that? What if it was them or the kids who was on the menu?

What if he went after Sunnydale High in a few years – as he’d planned to before? Say when Faith or Ben was there? What then? Could they take that chance?

“So I don’t know anything this time,” Tara told her. “He obviously has some plan – but he wasn’t talking like he did before. We don’t know what he wants to do. Not for sure.”

“Okay – point,” Jenny conceded. It seemed unlikely she could bring them around to her point of view, but perhaps conceding a little now would let her persuade them to do something - if they could get more information about what he wanted? “But if we find out he still wants to get in touch with his reptilian side?”

“No.”

“Oh come on!” Jenny virtually cried. “What will make you take action?” she asked. “I don’t want my kids eaten at their graduation. I don’t want our kids growing up in his town either.”

“Yet here we are,” Tara said quietly.

“What?”

“This was always his town. It was built for a reason,” Tara explained.

Explained unnecessarily. They all knew this. “Yes, to feed his ascendance.”

“Rubbish,” Tara said scornfully, taking everyone by surprise. With the way she said it, with the Rupert-like choice of word. All of it.

“Huh?” she and Willow both asked at the same time. Rupert, who’d been avoiding getting too involved, raised his eyebrows indicating his interest too.

Whether it was in what would make Tara use the word like that, or in what Tara meant Jenny wouldn’t like to guess, even though she knew him so well.

“Like he said to us. Do you think if he wanted just to be a full demon he’d have bothered with all this?” Tara gestured around herself. “It makes no sense. L.A. or a dozen other cities in California offer far more to any of the powers he deals with. This town is here because he wanted it to exist – for us. For the kids. For everyone.”

“Great, look at it,” Jenny said.

“Yes Jenny, look at it. It’s hard for us to see anymore, we’re used to it. But it really is picture postcard stuff. Cheap – but good quality – housing. Parks. No big office blocks, nothing is taller than City Hall clock tower. Schools that do the job. No out of town stores to drain the life from the old businesses,” Tara pointed out. “It’s a place you’d want to live.”

“Your choice of about fifty cemeteries when you die too young,” Jenny added.

“It’s own Hellmouth,” Willow agreed, but sounded reluctant. As if she could see Tara’s point.

“A Hellmouth that’s under control – and cemeteries that aren’t filling as fast as they used to,” Tara pointed out.

“Because of us,” Jenny insisted.

“We’re here because of him. He brought me here, I freed Willow,” Tara pointed out. “You two probably wouldn’t have made it this long…” She didn’t finish that thought off. “Sorry… but it’s true.”

“It was the Master who blocked his ascendance,” Rupert added. “Or at least prevented it when the alignment of the planets and powers came around.”

“And after the Master died?” Tara asked.

They all sat there silent for a moment. “So we’re not taking action because we’re grateful to him?” Jenny asked finally. That’d kind of been her point before – the presumed reason for the gratitude had just shifted a little.

“We’re not killing him because I know what it’s like to be sentenced to death for something you didn’t even do yet,” Tara said.

The Watcher’s – Rupert’s organisation – had done that to her. And Tara’s friend - the Slayer, Faith – had been the one nominated to carry it out. Other agents of the Council had tried as well. The death sentence was still, theoretically, on her head.

Was this point aimed at Rupert? She had to wonder.

“And,” Tara went on, “Because we can’t be judge, jury and executioner. Where does it stop? Criminals? Well meaning people who make a mess of things? College officials who chose to approve building work the wrong part of town and released native spirits?”

All of whom had caused problems in the past for them.

“No,” Jenny said firmly – she’d never even suggest something like that.

“What about people with diseases?” Tara asked. “They could be a serious threat to us, to the kids? Worse maybe than him. Should we start patrolling hospitals? Willow could hack into the medical records.”

“You know I’d never suggest that,” Jenny said. She felt now that she was being ridiculed. The counter-argument was being taken too far.

“We can’t kill him, Jenny. Not until he threatens us or anyone else. He knows that now too,” Tara assured her. Willow nodded in agreement.

“And he believes you?” Jenny checked. Telling him didn’t mean anything if it didn’t do anything to alter his behaviour.

“He knows me,” was all Tara felt she needed as a reply. “He knows what we said to him. He listened.”

When you came right down to it, Tara and Willow would probably have to be the ones to do it anyway. Sending them out there to do something they didn’t want to do would be just as bad as what the Watchers had asked the first Faith to do to Tara.

That gave the two of them the final veto anyway and probably rightly so.

Ben chose that moment to gurgle. Finished with her. As usual she offered him to the closest of the girls, Tara this time, for the burping while she re-adjusted her clothes. What would her mother have said? Breastfeeding while she was arguing to have someone killed?

Welcome to our world, Mom.

Tara, patting Ben’s back, promptly got a premature splurge on her shoulder. Though quicker than normal, it wasn’t the first time and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Heading for her quickly Jenny wiped up the worst of it with her ever-present tissue and then went for a damp cloth as Tara chided the pukey child gently, but continued to pat his back.

Wiping Tara’s shoulder down Jenny turned to her friend, and currently adversary in this discussion. The two of them represented the poles of opinion. “You know… I – ”

“You want what’s best for him – and for Faith,” Tara said. “You want it for all of us. I do too.”

“I know,” Jenny agreed. It was just their methods that differed. If the old Faith had been here… Well, maybe this would’ve gone another way. But that’d been Faith – this was Tara. Two very different people.

“You might be right – it might be the Mayor has to die,” Tara said. “But if we do it now, unprovoked, I can’t believe it’ll never be best for Ben, Faith or for Toni. Never.”

Jenny considered that. Murderers for parents? Vigilantes at best. And when would they find some reason to do it again? To someone else? Was Tara right about that?

Would it be easier to decide next time? And the next after that? She could see the uncomfortable truth in Tara’s logic. “And if we’re wrong?” she asked, resigning herself to the fact it wasn’t going to happen.

“If we’re wrong – I’ll do it myself. I already told him that,” Tara said quietly as Ben let go of a great belch of wind.

“What did he say?” Jenny asked as she took her son back from Tara and gave her the cloth.

“He challenged me to do it then, or release him,” Tara said simply.

“Can you do it?” Jenny checked.

“I’ll have to,” was all Tara came back with. “If it comes to that.”

That didn’t seem to be an answer – but maybe her friend was right. Maybe it would’ve been more disturbing if Tara had been able to say ‘yes’ too easily.

Was a person who could quickly say ‘yes’ to killing a man someone who you wanted to help raise your children?

Probably not.

****************

[Forrister]

Oddly enough I agree with all sides, but on this one I'll go with Tara. Not because not killing Richard is the 'right' or 'moral' thing to do, but because I wouldn't like to see what they would become if they did it on the evidence before them. Guilt would eat them, or they would become hard in a bad sort of way. Either way they would be on a path that would eventually lead to a place I wouldn't like to see them in. Will they eventually have to kill him? Probably. If they do it won't be easy and the price may be high. But I can't honestly say that it would be any less high (in different ways) if they did it now.

It occurs to me this is the first time we've seen a division in ranks between Tara, Willow, Jenny & Rupert. Ok, a small one, one they have sorted for now, but I really hope that circumstances don't widen it. Jenny wants to protect her children - Rupert can be ruthless if necessary, and Tara can be just as determined. I hope that nothing really bad will happen to any of them before they are forced to act on Richard.

I never really gave thought to the consequences of breast-feeding a teething child. Now that I do I understand the concept of weaning so much better. (Particularly since Brandy - the cat - recently gave me a nip in the same location while trying to get my attention.)

Just letting you know I won't have much time for anything much between now and Xmas. Work has gotten crazy and they have discovered a hitherto unforseen staff shortage - which means I have been asked to do lots of overtime. Which also means that my brain will somewhat resemble grey mush by the time I get home of a night. I haven't forgotten you, but I will wait for posting until I can adequately string two coherant thoughts together.

Via infernae, ipse sanctus designo, benevolus aedifico, et propositum bonum vium saxo.
The road to hell is planned by the self-righteous, built by the well meaning and paved with good intentions.

[Katharyn]

Overtime will be good for your bank balance if not for you. Don't do too much! And you don't ever need to explain to me *S*

I'm pleased you agree with all sides. It's supposed to be a complex argument. Any of them could be right, it all depends on what's going to happen and the only person who knows that right now is me. However I will admit that, in general in this fic, Tara gets to be right most of the time.

Knowing that though have I made her wrong for once?

I think you have the potential consequences down as I see them though. It's always good when a) I think of the same stuff the readers do and b) they come up with something clever. It's when the readers come up with something not so clever that I completely missed that I feel humbled LOL

I'm not sure this is the first division, there was that earlier argument. But that wasn't about what to do as much as 'why didn't you tell us.' The reasons that their positions alter over this part compared to the last - and within this one - is perhaps because more and more things were occuring to me and these seemed to be who the characters were in that moment.

I won't reveal where the inspiration for the titty-chewer moment came from. Make of that what you will. But... erm... your cat??

Ouchie.

Thanks hun,

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle – Legal Trouble (Part 206)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Tara, Willow and Toni are called to see the judge.
Disclaimer: I 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. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: Quite an important part, as I hope you’ll see by the end, for setting change in the story arc in place. I’d just like to apologise here for how frequently I have to use “the judge said” or “Tara said.” This is the problem with writing a female heavy scene. In this one there are five women talking in a room… how do you get around naming them in some way every time they speak? It reads clunky, but I’m not sure what else to do. Answers on a postcard!
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Legal Trouble

By

Katharyn Rosser



*What’s this even for?* Toni asked as they waited on chairs outside chambers. *I thought we were done with the judge?*

“So did we,” Willow replied. “The clerk just called, and he said you were to come down with us.”

*I’m missing biology,* the fifteen year old complained.

“And you’re so very devastated,” Tara teased, whether it came off like that in sign she wasn’t sure. Most of that sort of thing was to do with expression. Sign language wasn’t just about the hands – it was gestures and expressions too.

*We were going to cut up a cow’s eyeball today,* Toni said.

“Ooh!” Willow exclaimed, obviously dwelling on some exciting memories of her own. “Those are tough to cut, even with a scalpel. You’d think it’d be soft, you know? But it’s not. Squishy, but tough. And filled with this jelly stuff, vitreous humour which sounds as if it should be funny, but it’s… well, it’s not even mirthful really.”

Mirthful was a word that didn’t translate into signed English that easily.

*Yeah,* Toni said, obviously pleased to have an ally, even if it was a babblesome Willow. *And I missed it.*

Tara looked at them. She’d have been glad to miss a lesson like that when she’d been at school. They’d had a few cows back on the farm. Cows were nice. How could anyone want to cut up a cow’s eye? So soft and… cow-eyed looking. The eyes were a cow’s sweetest feature. “Did you think about the cow? What it might want?”

“Oh, baby,” Willow said patiently. “It’s like organ donation. It’s just using every part of an animal that’s already been slaughtered. It’s not like you’re a vegetarian.”

Tara was still dubious about it though.

*Look at it this way,* Toni suggested. “It’s better than it being in your burger.*

Tara and Willow both looked at her this time.

“Yes, it’s definitely better than that,” Willow acknowledged after a long silence. “But really, let’s not dwell on what’s in fast food, okay? Not if it’s going to be things like that.”

“In fact,” Tara said, “it’s a new house rule. No fast food dwellage.”

On balance it was probably best not to tell Toni about what had been going on down at the DoubleMeat Palace a few years back. Not that either she or Willow had ever eaten there before… Well, before they’d found out what the burgers were really made of and put a stop to it. But still… eww.

At the DoubleMeat the eyeballs you’d have found in your burger definitely hadn’t been cow.

*Okay,* Toni agreed to the rule, looking like she had more to say on the subject, but was holding it back. If so, she’d surely raise it again. That was the way she was. Toni never let go of anything.

“But I’m sure Doctor Gregory will let you indulge your fascination for cutting up sweet little moo-cows another time,” Tara reassured her.

It was then she noticed Willow’s continued excitement.

“No,” she said, realising what that excitement meant.

“Oh, come on baby,” Willow said. “It’s educational.”

“Willow, no!” Tara insisted. “You’re not doing it in the kitchen.”

The last time Toni had missed a dissection – her one slip from disgustingly good health – Tara had come home a few days later and found the two of them in the apartment kitchen with a chopping board, a few of her sewing pins, a scalpel and a frog.

Not a whole frog, but it’d all been there. Bit by bit.

“Aww,” Willow protested.

“You know, it’s not too late for you to switch to teacher training,” Tara joked. “You could be a science teacher and dissect things all the time. But not in our kitchen.”

“I don’t want to do it all the time,” Willow said. “But there’s some really, really neat structures inside us all, and in animals too.”

How practical Willow’s acquisition of anatomy knowledge had once been was something else it was best not to focus on. At least not in polite company.

“You, my sweet, are weird,” Tara told her girlfriend, and not for the first time either.

“But it’s why you love me,” Willow countered without hesitating.

“Part of it,” Tara hedged.

“Part of why you love me, or part of my weirdness?” Willow checked.

Tara thought about that for a moment. “Both, I think.”

Attention then turned to Mal’s Dad – Toni’s social worker – Mr Silver, coming down the corridor towards them. Trying to fasten his tie, check his watch and clutch his briefcase all at the same time. For someone who rarely wore a tie, he’d do better with a clip-on.

“Tara, Willow, Toni,” he greeted them.

“Hey.”

It was tough to know how to treat him. On the one hand he was Toni’s boyfriend’s father and seemed to be a nice guy. Good father too.

On the other he was her social worker and responsible for judging their care of the girl. That made things awkward. “Hi,” Tara said. “Caught you by surprise?” she guessed based on his obvious disorganisation.

“I forgot to put this in my diary, plus its Monday morning of course,” he told them – freeing up a hand when he put his briefcase down. “And you know how those are.”

Tara had to smile as Toni stood, reached out and straightened his tie. Not a hint of reservation. So she was doing okay with her boyfriend’s dad too.

She was also impressed when he managed a tentative *thank you* in sign. She’d had no idea he was even trying to learn.

It seemed Toni wasn’t telling them everything that went on when she was at Mal’s.

On the other hand the fifteen year old girl could be pretty forceful in bringing people to start to ‘speak’ her language. Look at what she’d done to them, and to Mal. Talk about crash courses based on necessity.

“Can you tell us what this is all about?” Willow asked.

“I was just asked to be here, like you I suppose, but I actually have no idea what it’s about,” he explained.

But for him this was just another meeting with a Judge. Rare as those were on this basis for social workers – or so he said – it was a professional matter. For she and Willow… well, the news would have a more personal impact, no matter what it was.

Tara put her hand on Willow’s; there was no point in pushing him on it if he really didn’t know. Or even if he did.

“Oh Toni,” he said, remembering something. He waited for them to translate before he said any more. “You left these in Mal’s room on Saturday night.” He reached down into his briefcase.

Willow and Tara both looked from him, to the bag to Toni and then back to the bag. What was he going to pull out? What had she left in Mal’s bedroom?

Books, two of them. Toni hadn’t missed their reaction and doubts about her… what had they been doubting? *What?* she demanded.

“Nothing,” Willow said.

“Nothing at all,” Tara agreed supportively.

“Had you worried?” he asked.

“A little,” Tara admitted.

He laughed. “I won’t pretend Mal’s an angel, but he definitely knows where he stands with Toni and besides, he wouldn’t do anything like that under my roof. Even if they wanted to.”

*I am here,* Toni reminded them, but blushing at what she’d already gotten from the signing they’d automatically translated for her.

He apologised, they all did. Sometimes, and it was probably an assumption about people and what was ‘normal,’ even they could still slip up. Somehow the brain, growing up without knowing deaf people, was willing to assume that everyone could hear.

On the flip side Toni, growing up without sound, was merrily able to ignore the fact that other people could actually hear. To her, sound was something that happened to other people and therefore not anything she had to worry about.

“If you’re ready?” the judge’s clerk asked from the doorway.

Tara had to admit to herself that she was nervous as they filed in. “Good morning all,” the judge said as they took up the pre-positioned seats .There was one extra one seat here today though, brought in from another room by the look of it.

And no one to fill it yet.

Were they expecting someone else? Or was it for another meeting that’d happen later?

The court translator stood behind the judge, smiling at Toni. This was a man Toni got on with very well. As she often said after they’d been here, it was the only time she ever got chance to have a full speed conversation.

Watching Toni sign at full speed was a lesson in just how far they still had to go. Actually it was a reminder they had to get past the baby talk that was signed English and start to engage Toni in the language she really used – ASL.

Now there was a scary language. It bore absolutely no relation to English, even the word order was different.

Something else to worry about then, but later.

The judge glanced at her clerk. “That lawyer not here yet, John?”

“No sign, your honour,” he informed her after checking outside the door again.

A lawyer then. That started to bother Tara. Her meetings with lawyers never, ever went well. They didn’t have one themselves – they hadn’t needed one. So who had one now?

She could think of one obvious possibility. But perhaps that was just paranoia affecting her.

But you weren’t paranoid if you really had things to worry about.

They didn’t need this at all – whatever it was. Not with the Mayor back and eluding their efforts to find out what he was really doing as well. Then there were their looming exams and the day to day things that cropped up in the rest of their lives. Not to mention regular hunting.

“May I ask what this is about, your honour?” Mr Silver asked the question they all wanted to know the answer to. She was grateful to him for that.

“New information, apparently,” the judge replied. “To be honest Mr Silver, I have little more idea than any of you. However, I was assured it was critical to consideration of Toni’s future and that’s the only reason I agreed to call this meeting.”

“I thought Toni’s future was settled,” Willow blurted and Toni nodded vigorously.

It was Mal’s father who answered. “Certainly on a foster-care basis, but we’ll eventually have to look at the longer term. Fostering arrangements can, and should, be reviewed anyway. Reviewed, but not necessarily changed.”

He didn’t sound particularly happy that it would so soon be necessary again though. Neither did the judge. That was only natural, because any changes now would be bound to unsettle Toni again and it was Toni’s concerns they had at heart.

New information though? Was there anything else it could be than what they were all most afraid of?

The good news was that the judge was sympathetic to them, or rather to Toni’s wishes. When the fostering arrangement had been formally agreed she’d insisted on Toni saying exactly what she wanted – and in detail. And, eventually, she had done. Through this very same court translator in fact.

That was how they’d managed to sort everything out. All Toni had needed to do was get past the reluctance to say what she did want rather than what she didn’t.

“How are things then?” the judge asked Toni. “How’s school?”

Tara had the awful feeling Toni was about to start on about the cow’s eyeball again. And that’d get Willow involved too and they’d be going on about funny jelly and that wasn’t what you talked to judges about.

Fortunately Toni didn’t open that door though. She knew how to be polite without actually saying much of note, at least when she had to.

Toni had to be as worried as they were. More so perhaps since it was her that would be most affected.

The door opened after a polite knock and stopped the conversation going any further anyway. “Ah,” the judge said. “At last we can get going.”

Toni didn’t notice the interruption immediately, and kept signing. Everyone else was looking back to their latest visitor though.

“Oh Goddess,” Tara hissed. “Lilah.”

The judge didn’t miss the exclamation. “Tara? Do you know Miss Morgan?”

All she could do was nod. Lilah, ever selling herself, immediately handed out business cards – even to Toni. The only person who she missed, apart from the judge? It wouldn’t have taken many guesses to predict the omission.

“Lilah Morgan,” she said. “Junior partner, Wolfram and Hart.”

As usual, Tara mused, she was all short skirts and overly high heels. But somehow Lilah could pull it off without looking inappropriate. It was something, she was sure, about the confidence she had in herself and the way that let her carry herself.

She imagined that when people looked at Lilah, dressed like that, it wasn’t her sexuality they were observing – it was her confidence and power. Perhaps the lawyer manipulated people who cared that way, but most of it was probably to enhance how she felt about herself.

“Nice of you to turn up, now would you like to tell me why you practically demanded a meeting with those assembled here today without so much as an explanatory note?” the judge said next. The subtext was clearly ‘because I’m sure you wouldn’t get away with that before the judges in L.A.’

“Forgive me, your honour,” Lilah said contritely.

Tara knew Lilah was capable of coming right out and threatening the judge if she felt she had to, but she was still a professional. Amongst other things. Instead, she was playing the game as it was meant to be played and that meant showing respect to those who sat on the bench.

Judicial respect was a game for her – reality for everyone else.

“There was a narrow window of opportunity,” Lilah explained. “To get things done before you made your initial judgement, and unfortunately I missed it.”

Grimly, Tara had to admire Lilah’s admitting to failure. It was likely to lessen the judge’s natural suspicion of a ‘big city lawyer’ and also the statement made it appear there was something that the judge should’ve been aware of back then too.

Something that might’ve changed the decision that had ultimately been made. As if it’d been wrong. That was already sowing the idea behind the argument Lilah was bound to eventually make.

“It wasn’t a judgement,” the judge said. “It was an order – as you should be well aware.”

“My mistake,” Lilah said, bowing her head. Still playing her games. “I had hoped to be able to inform you in time, as I said. However I’ve only just received the full facts, which I can now make available to you. And to Antonia of course.”

The youngest woman in the room reacted predictably to her name, or more accurately to being addressed by her full name, which she hated. Lilah wasn’t doing herself any favours there.

Tara’s focus was entirely on Lilah and her motivations, and she expected Toni would be the same. The name was just a distraction. Toni was smart and, it had to be said, a little afraid of what could happen to her. She’d not argue with the wrong thing.

Tara was less intent on what Lilah was doing as why she might be doing it.

And she could take a stab at answering both questions with a good chance of guessing right.

Once again she thought back with some lingering regret on the decision that’d brought them all here – what she’d done to Lilah - but then she thought about what she’d gotten in return. Had there really been any other way?

What would life have been without Willow? Nothing, certainly not worth living. Not after all that’d happened.

“And just what is your interest in this matter Counsellor?”

“I’m retained counsel for Antonia’s mother, Mrs Jacqueline Vincent – formerly Alessi,” Lilah revealed.

Toni stamped her foot impatiently. *What did she say?*

Naturally the translator repeated it back and Toni realised whatever she’d seen hadn’t been a mistake. Her face turned, literally white in that moment. You could see the blood drain out of it as if someone had turned on a tap and it was just running away.

Fear, shock – all of it was there to be seen. How was she supposed to deal with the fact that the mother she’d never known – or wanted – was back in her life?

And that she needed a lawyer.

This was exactly what Tara had been afraid of from the moment Lilah had walked in.

She hated it when she was right.

“And where is your client, Miss Morgan?” the judge asked. “After all, until now she’s proven rather elusive. I’d be very interested in knowing just why that is. And why she didn’t come forward when she heard what’d happened here in town. It made national news, so did these children.”

Lilah nodded slightly. “She’s spent a good portion of the time since she… ah… left her ex-husband overseas, your honour. She married there and that may have led to some of the complications you mentioned. Right now she’s outside the court building, we both realised it might be something of a shock to Antonia to meet her natural mother, the woman who gave birth to her, for the first time in several years.”

“I know what a natural mother is, Miss Morgan. I myself am such a creature – three times over – so please don’t grandstand in my chambers, there’s no jury here for you to impress.”

Tara was pleased to see the judge was wise to Lilah’s tactics; it also seemed to impress Lilah herself.

Toni would still get a fair shake of the dice.

“I’m sorry, your honour, force of habit.”

“Yes,” the judge agreed. “I imagine so.” She took her glasses off and sat back in her chair. “Is it your intention to seek custody?” she asked.

Tara held her breath, waiting for what seemed to be the inevitable answer.

“Not at this time, your honour,” Lilah revealed.

Now that surprised Tara, and she could tell Willow was experiencing the same reaction. But perhaps it made sense. Lilah had to know, as they did, that right now she’d lose any effort to get custody. Toni hadn’t even seen her Mom in 14 or so years, let alone knowing her. Then there was the matter of the hatred she’d built up of who she thought her Mom was.

Given some time things might change, at least that’d be Lilah’s point of view. She’d be trying to make that happen.

“But…?” the judge prompted, sensing the same thing Tara did.

“We wouldn’t rule it out for the future,” Lilah said. “It would depend on how mother and daughter got along.”

*We’re not going to get along – I won’t see her,* Toni said and they all a second waited for the judge and Lilah to pick up on the translation.

Lilah, wisely, didn’t say anything about Toni’s reaction. Tara wasn’t sure there was anything the lawyer could’ve said that wouldn’t have been wrong. Apart, perhaps from apologising and leaving with a promise Toni never had to meet or hear about her Mom again.

And how likely was that? Lilah Morgan didn’t play to lose – or to give up half way through the game.

Ignoring Toni wasn’t going to win Lilah a friend either though. All her life hearing people had been ignoring her. Until today it was probably the worst thing Toni thought you could do to her. Maybe that’d changed now though.

Maybe now the worst thing you could do to her was to bring her Mom back into her life.

“Miss Maclay and Miss Rosenberg – together with their friends – have been very generous with both their time and resources,” Lilah said. “Mrs Vincent really does appreciate their dedication, especially in the very difficult circumstances that saw Antonia, effectively, orphaned,” Lilah explained.

Tara glanced at Toni and saw she was glowering. If looks could kill, Lilah would’ve bust into flames and turned to dust a minute or two ago.

“However,” Lilah continued. “My client is Antonia’s natural mother and as such has a right to a relationship with her daughter – wherever that takes them.”

“I hope your client can prove her maternity, all the searches I ordered – as I said – came up empty,” the judge pointed out.

Toni stamped, finally losing whatever patience she’d had, and flashed her fingers angrily. Tara just hoped she didn’t insult the judge, or do anything else she’d regret later.

“What was that?” the judge prompted the translator.

“I’m not going with her. Ever.” The translator accurately conveyed Toni’s words.

Then she turned to Lilah. “That seems like a statement of intent and I can entirely understand it in the circumstances. Mrs – ah - ”

“Vincent,” Lilah supplied.

“Mrs Vincent seems to have abandoned Toni once. I’m not inclined to force the girl to go with your client now. Not even for a day.”

“Absolutely, your honour, which is exactly why Mrs Vincent is not in attendance. However, I would point out that Toni only has her father’s point of view on the situation. Tragic as a break-up is there are always two sides to the story. But I’d do the same in your position,” Lilah volunteered.

“Thank you for the validation, Miss Morgan,” the judge said, not bothering to hide her irritation.

Lilah actually appeared embarrassed by the slip. “All we’re asking for - at this time - is that any further decisions about Antonia’s future are postponed until my client’s credentials are established to your satisfaction and she can therefore be considered as a suitable alternative?”

The judge nodded. “What else?”

There was no victory there for Lilah as no decisions were coming up anyway.

“To facilitate the improvement in relations between mother and daughter, we’d also like to request some – supervised – visits over the next few weeks. My client lives in L.A. now and would be willing to come up to Sunnydale whenever it’s convenient to see her daughter,” Lilah said. “Perhaps Antonia will come to like her.”

*I wouldn’t count on it. I keep telling you – I won’t see the bitch.*

The translator turned that last word into ‘woman’ for the benefit of the judge who didn’t seem to be fooled by the mild censorship. Tara, on the other hand, knowing what’d really been said was on the opinion the judge should be aware of the depth of Toni’s feelings.

“Toni,” the judge said. “You have to believe I’m sympathetic; however I don’t think this is too much to ask. Miss Maclay? Miss Rosenberg? Your opinions?”

How could they object, except based on Toni’s wishes that the judge had already made clear might be too harsh? How could they reveal that anything Lilah was involved in was either destructive or aimed at hurting someone? They couldn’t, true as it might be, not without seeming paranoid and hurting their chances of letting Toni stay with them.

Show paranoia or something you couldn’t prove – or were unwilling to – and Lilah Morgan would rip you to pieces in court.

And if this was Toni’s mother… Maybe she should see her.

Tara knew she’d give anything to see her mother one more time. Might there come a time in the future, if Toni said a final ‘no’ now, that she’d regret it?

She was willing to believe there was a chance of that. By the time you had regrets, it was too late.

“I think that’d be a good idea,” Tara said slowly, only really deciding to respond that way when she reached the word ‘good’ itself.

Willow was plainly shocked and Toni was, just as obviously, glaring at her and fuming. Tara could see she felt betrayed.

Lilah smiled though, satisfied at the decision.

“So ordered,” the judge said. “Mr Silver, will you make arrangements for supervised visits – once Mrs Vincent’s credentials have been established?”

“Of course, your honour.”

This was what he was supposed to do after all, to put kids with parents.

“And a translator,” Lilah added as she glanced at the one stood behind the judge.

Toni, seeing what’d been asked for, huffed loudly, not impressed either by the idea of visits and equally by the fact her mother still couldn’t sign. The judge looked on with obvious sympathy, but it’d been said now. Willow would see why she’d agreed to it. She’d lost her Mother too.

Tara hoped Toni would never fully understand. You couldn’t until you lost them and by then it was too late.

“Then I think we’re done,” the judge said, calling a halt to proceedings. “I’ll see you all soon, I’m sure.” The way she said it suggested she realised just what this was going to turn into. A custody battle.

They left the chambers and outside, away from the translator, the signing got frantic and forceful. Beside her Tara heard Willow say, “First the Mayor, now Wolfram and Hart, all we need now is the Master and we’ve got a full house.”

“Don’t even go there,” she replied absently, her mind was on something else though.

Rather than get involved in that now – Toni would be getting at her for long enough about it anyway – she followed Lilah, grabbing her arm to stop her.

The lawyer’s eyes were burning as she turned, glaring at the offending hand as if she could make it wither and fall off with just a look.

“What are you doing, Lilah?” Tara demanded without letting go. She wanted answers.

“My job.”

“Oh, come on,” Tara didn’t believe that for a second. “There’s nothing special about Toni.” Tara was sure of that – nothing mystical at all. Nothing to interest Wolfram and Hart. The girl had as much magical power as a small dog.

Which was to say none at all.

“Except to her mother,” Lilah countered and Tara had the feeling her words would be thrown back at her in a later hearing.

“If you want to hurt me,” Tara said. “Hurt me. Don’t do it to Toni.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Lilah said sweetly. “Now be a dear and get your fucking hand off me before I decide to bring you up on assault charges.”

Then she was gone, leaving Tara standing there.

All she had to do now was face Toni.

******************

[Tigerkid14]

I refuse to allow an update to happen without some sort of feedback. Especially since I've been all "I'll read the update and feedback later" and then I miss later and there's a new update.

So.....

Hey Katharyn

Lilah's a bitch. Yes, I know, not feedback, merely stating the obvious. Be that as it may, it's still true.

Also, I feel for Toni....and I feel for Tara. And as much as I like Toni, and don't want her to be forced to see her mom when she doesn't want to, I also know that it was a hard thing for Tara to say that she should.

(I should take a moment to say at this point that I just rewatched "Tough Love" so I'm definitely against all things that cause Tara pain and am on her side in everything. She could announce that the time has come to start killing all the puppies and kittens on the planet and I'd be right there with her.)

Oh, and I really liked the judge. Definitely a good character.

I'd feedback more (or just make random comments) but I have to go to a friend's graduation now.

~Meghan

~Commencement speeches were invented largely in the belief that outgoing college students should never be released into the world until they have been properly sedated. ~Garry Trudeau

[Forrister]

W&H does nothing without a reason. Lilah might have a revenge motive going but that would be just the cream on the W&H nefarious plan. I want to know who's plan it is. Is it the Richard's plan? Or is he part of W&H's plan? And what of Darla and Dru? Lots of enemies in lots of places.

I am pretty sure Toni is about to go through the wringer. I'm not sure of the details, but custody matters can be really nasty. The notion that Lilah wouldn't lend herself to a losing case (unless there was a far greater, more nefarious plan in the offing) does not fill me with happy thoughts. Hopefully Tara's good sense and Toni's resiliance will see them through.

On the home front I have decided what I want Santa to bring me for Xmas. I want an "explode caller button" on my work phone. I thought about a "strangle caller button" but I have decided that there is something satisfying about hearing a resounding "boom" on the other end of the line. Sigh . . . . don't like my chances. As it is I had to replace my home telephone yesterday because Brandy (the cat) chewed through the phone line and the phone power cord. She is currently sitting on my lap, purring away in total disgrace. (Although I don't think she's noticed yet)

Hope you all have a fun, happy, holiday (whichever one you celebrate at this time of year). And Katharyn - may Santa bring you something really special - you deserve it.

Forrister

Salem ac leporem.
It's naughty, but nice!

[Katharyn]

Hi Meghan – A graduation ceremony is a good reason to go out and your simple presence is good enough.

Lilah IS a bitch. Lilah’s supposed to be a bitch and the best thing about it, from a storyteller’s point of view, is that it’s Tara’s fault. (Of course she was a bitch anyway, but in a different class.)

It’s interesting what you say about Tough Love – that feeling you have there is what’s driven an awful lot of this fic. Tara is – mostly – right. When something gets questioned you can usually look to Tara for the right answer for just that reason, I am biased towards her. Tara will not, however, be killing puppies and kittens.

Period.

I hope I’m not spoiling anything when I say that the Toni/Mom/Lilah/Tara thing is going to be a big thread in the quilt for the immediate future.

Thanks for dropping by again!

Kerry – Have you considered that Brandy is possibly the most destructive force in the universe?

There’s a plan? Ah, there is a plan. Or several. But whose plan is whose is where we’ll be going in the coming parts (I think – my mind is in four places. Where I just posted, where I just got ready to post, where I just wrote and where I need to go. LOL)

And yes, Toni will go through the wringer. She’ll be dragged into it, kicking and screaming and she’ll drag other people with her.

You have a great holiday too, don’t let that ball of terror destroy more than is strictly necessary. Maybe next year I’ll have time to write a Xmas fic. LOL

The next part will be posted a little later today or tomorrow morning. Willow and Tara pay a visit to Ira and discover something of what the Mayor is doing.

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - Connections (Part 207)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Tara and Willow talk to Ira about the Mayor.
Disclaimer: I 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. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: I apologise if it appears big issues disappear. In part this is because of how this has been written with parts drafted years ago. In addition its because if I go back and get into the worries about Toni, for example, I’ll dwell on it for pages – and there’s enough of that in the parts focused on it. So I do mention other issues and they are still there, but I push them into the background a little.
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Connections

By

Katharyn Rosser



“Hey Dad,” Willow greeted him as they came through the kitchen door, without knocking.

No need to knock in your own home, or so he kept telling them. From time to time they unintentionally gave him a scare when they did though. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, Willow tended to think her Dad’s hearing might be starting to fade just a little.

After all, it wasn’t like they were sneaking around when they got inside. They called him and everything.

Today Ira was already in the kitchen anyway, which avoided that problem. “Willow,” he acknowledged absently and went on with what he was doing. Packing boxes? Was he going somewhere?

“Hi Ira,” Tara said, closing the screen behind them. Naturally, this being Tara, he dropped everything and went over to her, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek.

All she’d gotten was continuation of packing boxes and an absented-minded confirmation he remembered her name. You know, Willow thought, a girl could get jealous.

But it was okay, that’d be her reaction to Tara coming into the room too.

“Good to see you,” he said to her girlfriend.

“Good to see her? What about me?” Willow teased. It was a familiar game for them by now, perhaps one he was learning to play along with.

“Tara calls,” he chided her. “When did you last call, daughter of mine?”

Okay… that was a good question, one where the answer wasn’t quite on the tip of her tongue. But it wasn’t the point. She was the one who was his daughter. Tara was just… just…

Okay, Tara wasn’t ‘just’ anything, but she was the in-law.

The in-law who called.

Without the law bit.

Yet.

The woman in question just looked smug about her greeting, and probably about the fact Ira recognised her calling as such a good thing too. Okay, there was only one rational, well-reasoned, response to this.

Willow stuck out her tongue at her lover. ‘Promises, promises,’ Tara teased with a smile that read more into the gesture than she’d really meant.

She sighed, but not at Tara and her promises.

It was plain as the nose on her face. She’d lost.

Her father preferred his ‘in-law’ daughter to his own flesh and blood.

Okay… Willow could understand it, and it was hardly a new thing, when you thought about it. She’d have preferred Tara too. There was oh-so-much about Tara to like and love.

Plus, she called. That plainly counted for a lot with Ira. And seriously, she knew Ira loved her just the same. It was the dynamic of their relationship that was different than it was between him and Tara. Her girlfriend was just better at the whole ‘keeping in contact’ thing than she was.

Ooh! She had called though! “I called,” she finally realised. “I called you last week!” There! Let him think about that. Point made. Thank you very much and goodnight Gracie.

“Yes, you did. You called to ask me to tell Tara to bring home a bag of peas when she arrived to visit,” he countered. “That’s not calling, Willow. But it raises the point… Tara visits too. When did you last visit? Hmm?”

Now that one she could answer. “The weekend before last,” Willow told him, on firmer ground now. “I mean I am sorry, but we’ve been kinda busy since then. And we saw you in between when you came to pick up the kids.”

“That’s not a visit,” he told her firmly. “I mean when you come to see me.”

“But… busy. Lots of busy,” she said feebly. This wasn’t going great and Tara was being no help at all, all smug over there with her phone calls and her visits.

And they had been busy. Lots and lots of busy. Busy like digging up ex-elected officials’ graves, worrying about them coming back to life. That kind of thing. Serious busy stuff.

Okay… so there’d only been one such elected official, which didn’t count as a plural, but still. It did count as busy. Then there was Toni’s future which had taken an unexpected twist the day after they’d last seen Ira, and her own college assignments to do.

Add to that regular hunting and having some kind of life as well… it all added up to busy.

What did he expect? Miracles? They barely got any alone time together now except hunting and sleeping. And the bit before or after sleep where they… No, he didn’t need to know about that either.

“Tara passes here on the way back from the gallery,” she pointed out, the thought just having occurred to her. Art Appreciation needed actual art to appreciate. Tara had chosen the works at a small gallery at the other side of town to appreciate.

And she knew just how ‘appreciative’ Tara could be.

“It’s true,” Tara admitted. “It’s easier for me to pop in this semester. But don’t let the reasons stop me being your favourite.” She kissed his cheek as they finally broke their embrace.

“Never, leibchen,” he told her.

Willow rolled her eyes as this time Tara stuck her tongue out at her this time. She gave Tara exactly the same kind of look her girlfriend had given her in response, then turned to her father. “What are you doing Dad?” She’d let herself get sidetracked from the important question of the moment.

“Packing boxes,” he said, returning to that task.

“Well… yeah. I can see that. The boxes were a big clue,” Willow said. “Along with the packing of the boxes. What are you packing them with?”

“Ah, I’ve cleared out the roof space,” he replied, understanding what you meant. “And the garage. If you’d been around or called you’d have known I was going to do it.”

She ignored the well-intentioned jibe. “Oh.” That didn’t seem very exciting. Okay, she had to admit it might be a major event in his life, she didn’t think he’d ever done it before, but it wasn’t exactly riveting. “Hey! Isn’t that my Speak and Spell?”

Suddenly she had more interest in the packing of the boxes.

“Yes, and?” he asked.

“And - and – well, you can’t give my Speak and Spell away, Dad!” she protested. It was her Speak and Spell. It was all she’d wanted for her birthday… way back whenever that’d been. Admittedly it’d been a while ago now.

“Willow, you never even used it. By the time your aunt bought it for you, you could already do both better than it could.”

But… but… you could reprogram it with a bobby pin to send messages out into the universe – if you used a vegetable steamer, a wire coat-hanger and a hubcap for an antenna! Okay, that might have just been a movie – but it was probably the start of her desire to hack into computer systems, and that’d led her to her proposed career. He couldn’t throw it out! It was a little piece of Willow-history. “But… it’s mine!”

“So take it home with you now,” her father instructed. “But if you leave it here it goes.”

Okay, now he was being reasonable. She moved to pick it up, but Tara stopped her gently. “Let it go baby. You don’t need it any more. Your spelling’s already great.”

“But- Tara – it’s mine,” she said, picking it up lovingly. “What else are you throwing out?” she asked him, suddenly worried.

“I’m not throwing anything out,” he assured her. “It’s all for the orphans from the sewers, and for the families taking them in.”

“Oh,” Willow put it back in the box, feeling like she had to if it was for a good cause. But not because she wanted to. Inside something said ‘take it all home, take it all home!’

“Thank you, and don’t worry – nothing you could want is in there,” he promised. She wanted her Speak and Spell though, he was wrong about that. Could he be wrong about the rest? This could be a disaster waiting to happen.

“Can I check?” she asked.

He looked at her, with that expression that said that yes, he was a little disappointed, but on the other hand it wasn’t unexpected either. “Go ahead. Don’t make a mess though. They’re all packed very carefully.”

She started to look through the boxes, memories flooding back. Good, bad and things she didn’t remember at all. Tara came to her side, probably out of curiosity, picking through the box with her. Not all of the boxes held her stuff, but several of them did. And there, in the corner, her fish tank… Poor flipper had pined away without her when she’d… gone.

And look… Sapphy, her cabbage-patch kid. How was that for foreshadowing? If only she’d known what the name would mean to her later.

Connect-Four. She’d never lost a game against Xander – undefeated champion! Okay, he’d struggled with the concept of the game not being about emptying all the pieces out of the rack and stacking them up, but still… Undefeated!

Her old, wooden farm animals!? “Dad, you can’t give these away! You told me Granddad carved them himself.” He’d told her he’d played with them when he was young too. These weren’t just Willow-history, they were Rosenberg-history and they definitely weren’t going anywhere.

“And what will you do with them?” he challenged, but she could see she’d gotten through to him, at least on this one. He definitely understood where she was coming from. Even Tara looked to approve as she went and looked at the beautifully made farm animals. Marked by a lot of play, but still beautiful.

Willow thought about his question. “I think Faith would love them now,” she said, suddenly wanting them to go there. She’d honestly forgotten all about the carved animals – and might have wanted them for their kids… if they ever had any. Faith could enjoy them in the meantime though.

He wavered, then took them from the box, all packed in their handmade case. “She’s a good girl. She’ll take care of them,” he concluded, expressing her own feelings.

“What’s suddenly made you look for all this stuff now?” Tara asked, peering curiously at the past. A Willow even she’d never known.

“The appeal of course,” Ira replied. “Surely you’ve heard about it?”

“Appeal?” Tara checked.

“We’ve been busy,” Willow added, wanting to stress that point again. All kinds of busy.

“An appeal by the former Mayor’s brother, a kind of memorial,” Ira said. “He’s chairman of the committee.”

“Mayor Wilkins?” she and Tara asked together.

Which other former Mayor was there?

He passed them a glossy flyer, the kind of thing that usually he – like they – would just throw away without reading. Had they had a copy in the mailbox? Was that what they’d done with it? Maybe they needed to pay more attention to their junk mail?

Because there he was…

They’d been looking for him when they could, trying to figure out what he was doing. And here it was. His appeal. Harry Wilkins was introduced in the blurb as younger brother of the old Mayor, Richard Wilkins III. Appealing to help the kids that everyone in town knew about and felt something for.

Those kids from the sewers who’d still had relatives had been collected and returned to where they’d come from – or at least where their relatives were from. But that still left so many children who’d lost everyone in the sewers. Kids like Toni. Some younger, some not even able to tell anyone his or her name.

Unlike Toni they still had no one. Now someone wanted Toni, even if the fifteen year old didn’t want anything to do with her Mom. They were still waiting for the fact the woman was her mother to be proven though. And if she was… It’d probably get bad.

But there’d been no enforced visits yet. No drama. Apart from the fact they knew what was coming, life had pretty much been able to carry on as normal since the meeting with Lilah.

“Oh,” was all Tara could say as she read the flyer and then handed it over to her.

“Did you tell him?” Willow checked as she felt a rising sense of horror. Might her Dad not know? “Did you say anything about it when you visited?”

Everything they’d worried and agonised about – whether to take action or not against the Mayor – had come down to whether he’d do anything to anyone. But they hadn’t considered he might already be doing something and now her Dad was supporting that effort?

Surely this ‘appeal’ had to be a cover for something else. Something bigger. What nefarious deeds could he get up to with a Speak and Spell? Just so long as he wasn’t calling the mothership, they could probably deal…

“Tell me what?” Ira asked. Reminding them he was right there.

But that was a ‘no’ then? Tara hadn’t said anything?

They hadn’t actually even told him about their involvement with the Mayor’s death. They’d certainly neglected to mention he’d now come back to life.

Her Dad was au fait with what they did but… those bits of news might be pushing his acceptance threshold just a little farther than he was used to. The Mayor, after all, was believed to be human.

Not a demon, not a vampire.

Even they accepted – until they got better evidence – he was a person. Just a person with big, snakey ambitions.

“What did you want me to do?” Tara asked. “Blurt it out over coffee?”

That would’ve been bad, Willow had to admit. But to not say anything at all? Didn’t Ira need to know about this? If nothing else he was another set of eyes. Look what he’d found out just by opening his mailbox!

“Blurt what out?” he asked again.

“There’s never a good time for that sort of thing,” Willow admitted to Tara. Even if it’d been on her mind when she came here, she couldn’t have expected her girlfriend just to fill him in without good reason.

“For what sort of thing?”

“We should’ve said something,” Tara agreed. Between them they were still trying to decide what should’ve been said, hoping it would give them a pointer about what should be said now.

“Stop,” Ira said.

They both looked at him, waiting for another instruction.

“Now, will one of you please tell me what you’re talking about?” he insisted. “Remembering for a moment that I am in the room with you.”

Looking to each other, they nodded and then told him what the problem was. Such a minor, teensy little thing really.

“That’s not the old Mayor’s brother,” Willow said, waving the flyer.

But then the thought hit them both, who it originated with Willow had no idea, but… “Unless it is…” Could it be his brother? They didn’t know it wasn’t his brother. Could it be a wild and whacky coincidence? The old Mayor came back to life and his previously unknown brother – with a remarkable similarity – happened to come back to town at the same time?

“No,” Tara said. “Can’t be. I always had the very firm impression he was an only child.”

“Who?” Ira asked. “Do you mean Harry Wilkins?”

“But did he ever say it?” Willow asked. “Do you remember him saying anything about that?”

Tara thought back. “I don’t know, I think he did, but you know he loved to talk.”

“And he could’ve lied even if he had said something,” Willow conceded.

There was always the chance that not only that this was his brother, but that they’d been totally misled. What if it’d actually been the brother who’d come to their apartment – pretending to be the old Mayor? Was that possible?

No… He’d known far too much. And that was a level of conspiracy theory she was unwilling to climb up to. They’d never get beyond the worrying if they started to think like that.

“Who could’ve lied?” Ira asked, getting impatient.

“He didn’t lie,” Tara said. “He had no need to – he hated falsehoods of any kind.”

“Ah, you do mean Mayor Wilkins,” Ira concluded.

That was how her Dad associated with him? As a man who hated falsehood? This could get trickier than she’d have thought it’d be.

“Now, what is it you have to say?” he asked.

She sighed, Tara nodded. It was time to tell him.

“Like I said, that’s not Richard Wilkins' brother on the leaflet,” she said after a moment.

“Of course it is, I shook his hand,” Ira revealed. “He’s the absolute image of his brother – there’s no way he could be anyone else. Younger, of course. But otherwise the very image.”

Oh yes, he was younger, from a certain point of view. She tried again. “I mean he’s not Harry Wilkins. He might say he is right now, but he was Richard Wilkins III, the man who used to be Mayor.”

“Willow, that’s not funny,” Ira said after a few moments looking at them, as if he’d been waiting for the punch line, or for them to break down and giggle. That never came though.

“Dad, I’m not being funny,” Willow said.

“She’s really not,” Tara backed her up, and that ought to have helped.

“No, you’re not being funny at all. Mayor Wilkins did a lot of good for this town,” Ira stated firmly.

Willow coughed. “Rubbish.” She buried the word in the forced exhalation. She’d never imagined his reaction to that though. Immediately his face turned to look like thunder.

“That’s not funny either, young lady,” he said.

‘Young lady’? Things were getting really serious.

“I’m sorry Ira,” Tara said, “it’s just that we – I - knew him better than you did – I knew things he never let most people see.”

“If you really knew him better,” Ira countered, “you’d show a little more respect for the dead.”

“Huh?” Willow blurted, without even realising it was going to come out.

“His family built this town,” Ira told them and Willow suddenly had a sense of déjà vu, hadn’t she recently had this conversation?

It wasn’t like Ira was wrong. Richard Wilkins had been a member of his own family. Just the only one anyone still alive had ever known.

“He made it what it is today,” Ira continued.

“Formerly murder and missing person’s capital of the country,” she said.

“A town with community,” Ira told her, starting to count his points off on his fingers. “A town with jobs, even though there aren’t any huge office complexes or factories to bring the place down. Nice, affordable houses. A town where you can still leave your doors unlocked at night.”

Here… maybe. Ira obviously didn’t get down to the south side of the tracks that often, but this was just what they’d talked about with Rupert and Jenny. “Just don’t invite anyone in,” she pointed out.

“And that’s what Tara’s here for – at his invitation I might add,” Ira said. “After he brought you here things got so much better. You can’t say he wanted the vampires and demons to have free reign – not if he brought Tara in.”

Yes, she had been having this conversation only a couple of days ago. At Jenny and Rupert’s when they’d been discussing what to do about him. Back then Tara had been in Ira’s role… maybe that was why she was being quieter now? Did her girlfriend appreciate what her father had to say?

“And,” Ira continued, “You tell me the cities are just as bad anyway.”

“Worse,” Tara said with a shrug. “Some of them anyway.”

Willow understood her girlfriend’s logic – they’d done so much here, over a number of years, to make this town pretty much safe. As safe as it could be with a Hellmouth. Most places didn’t have anything like them to protect them – perhaps a vampire or demon focused vigilante gang, but how long could they last? And in a major city it’d be just too big for anyone to police effectively.

Even a Slayer, and there was only one of those in the world.

But there was only one Tara too, and she’d lasted longer than any Slayer. She was better equipped for what she did, even without super strength and reflexes.

But there was a whole world full of creatures that needed to be stopped from doing terrible things. Many worlds… Lots of dimensions too. All wanting to come here and wreak havoc. And people worried about immigration from south of the border?

There were much bigger fish to fry.

Ira didn’t actually like to bring up the demon thing much. She knew it wasn’t something he liked to think about – not because of what had happened so much as what might happen to either, or both, of them. He never said anything, but she knew he didn’t like them taking as many risks as they had to do.

He wouldn’t be her Dad if he had.

Most of the time, they didn’t even think of them as risks anymore. More… routine, she supposed.

“Do you think the public school system is as good everywhere else? I happen to know that Rupert has a book budget every year that adds up to more than some education boards put into all their schools,” Ira pointed out, still counting on his fingers.

There really wasn’t much she could say about that – especially when so much of it was focused on his ‘role’ as Watcher. There were books in that school library he deliberately didn’t let the students take out.

“And how much crime is there?” Ira went on.

Arguably the vampires and demons attracted to the Hellmouth had put the criminals out of business – either by eating them or by denying them their favoured night time hours. But he was still right about the levels. And in a sense that was down to the former Mayor and what he’d allowed to happen here.

“True,” she admitted. “But have you heard of stocking the larder?” She asked the question quietly though, her in-built respect for him preventing her confronting him too harshly.

“He did these things,” Ira said, not realising what she meant. “And most of all, if he hadn’t brought Tara here, you wouldn’t be here, Willow. You’d still be some thing hurting people.”

‘Hurting people’ being a euphemism for enjoying playing games of slaughter the human. “Alright,” she said softly. It didn’t mean she’d changed her mind, but she didn’t need this dragging up again. Even if it was all true – he was only seeing one side of the coin, but sometimes there was only one side.

Sometimes.

“Without him there is no Tara. Without Tara no you! How can you expect me to believe him guilty of some plot to hide his death?”

That was what he thought this was about?

But… the Tara thing.

“Alright, Dad!” she said more firmly. She didn’t need it rubbing in. Yes, okay she got it. She owed that much at least… Though fate was always supposed to have taken a hand in bringing them together, but how could she explain that to him?

“No, Willow it’s not alright. I’d have lost both of you and never even known it, so please – for me - show the man a little respect!”

It was Tara who went over to him; it was Tara who hugged him and Tara who gave him something to wipe the beginnings of tears away. It was still a raw, emotional spot for him after all these years. How he’d gotten her back, and with Tara too.

But all she could think about was – ‘Oh My God… my Dad’s the Mayor’s chief cheerleader.’

“Ira,” Tara said. “We’re sorry. All that is true – I argued most of the same things just a few nights ago.”

“Good. Respect where respect is due.”

“But you need to realise it wasn’t as simple as that. Richard Wilkins loved and built this town – but take it from me, as much good as that did, it was for his own reasons.”

Ira just looked at Tara, waiting for more. For evidence of what she was saying. Tara knew how to talk to him, to avoid provoking a reaction that’d stop her from explaining.

“He intended to sacrifice people – literally – for what he wanted,” Tara revealed.

“Rubbish,” Ira said. “How can you say that?”

“Like we all agree – he hated falsehood and lies. Well, he told me as much.”

“You?”

“Me,” Willow’s girlfriend confirmed.

“No, because if he’d told you that Tara – I know you. You’d have done something…”

Tara didn’t look at him, denying him the clue, or so you’d have thought. But sometimes the absence of something was more powerful than it’s presence. Avoiding his eyes told him everything he needed to know.

“But you did do something, didn’t you?” Ira asked slowly.

Tara didn’t say anything, and it didn’t seem the best time to bring up the fact that the vampire had done it… she’d done it. The vampire. But at Tara’s request. Suggestion. Whatever… she hadn’t taken much persuading. Ira certainly didn’t need the details of the vampire’s relationship with her Kitten.

She’d never share that with anyone – it was too horrible.

“How could you do that? He was human – not one of those things you hunt!” Ira was almost shouting. It was the most disturbed Willow ever remembered seeing her Dad. Bar that one other time when he’d been screaming at her through a gag, begging her to stop. And later… begging her to end it.

And she’d ignored him.

“Graduation Day,” Tara said simply, looking at him at last. Meeting his eyes.

“What?”

“On Graduation Day, 1999, at Sunnydale High he fully intended to devour the students of graduating class,” Tara told him. The tone of her voice left no room for doubt. These were the facts. It was the tone she always imagined Tara would use as a teacher.

“So he’s a cannibal now?” Ira asked, but she could tell he’d responded to Tara’s authority. He was having doubts about what he thought he knew.

“No,” Tara said.

“Then why?”

“To feed his ascendance to being a full demon – and that’s something Sunnydale has never seen while I’ve been here. Ira… Full demons… they’re not like vampires and the things we get all the time. They’re huge – they’re powerful and they live practically forever so far as we can tell.”

Ira thought about that for a moment. “But he didn’t do it – you weren’t even here at Graduation in 1999. I thought you arrived after that?”

“I did, and no, he didn’t get to do it,” Tara admitted.

“The Master made it impossible for him,” Willow said. “Even though I don’t think the Master ever knew it. The Mayor wasn’t in control – that’s why he needed Tara.”

“So you condemn a man for something he didn’t do?” Ira asked, sounding like he wanted to believe something else. He sounded as if he felt disappointed, in them. He’d accepted the facts, now he was just dealing with them.

He sounded like he’d been let down by them…

“I condemned a man because he intended to go forwards and do it anyway, later on,” Tara said.

“No court would make such a judgement, Tara,” Ira said.

That was exactly what Tara had said a few nights ago.

“No court ever had to,” Willow countered for her girlfriend, but Tara didn’t need any help.

“But I do have to,” Tara told him. “Every single day, I have to make the right choice about what to do for the best. I can’t… I mean, back then I couldn’t stand up to a full demon. There was no way I could do anything about it.”

Willow reflected on the choice of words. Did that mean Tara thought she could now? That they could, since they’d certainly be stronger together than they’d ever been apart? So much had changed since back then, they were stronger – better at what they did. Even the magic had changed since they’d come together.

“I couldn’t stop it if he managed to change,” Tara went on when she saw Ira had no immediate response. “So I had a choice. I could let it happen, let people die and try to deal with it – assuming I survived that long – or…” She took Ira’s hand. “Or I could stop him – then and there. Even if I died the next night he’d be out of the picture and at least Sunnydale would be safe from him. I stopped him and I’d do it again if I have to.”

“No,” Willow said. “We’d stop him.”

It was strange how Tara was having to fight a different corner now, but her message really hadn’t changed. They’d take action if they had to, but only if they had to. It depended on his intentions, and this flyer – this appeal – might be some sort of clue to that.

“He really wanted to do that?” Ira asked, sounding like he wanted to believe but not quite being able to convince himself.

“I saw the evidence myself – he was working on the speech for whatever graduation it was going to be all the time I knew him,” Tara said. “He had this thing about educational achievement – even if he was going to eat the graduates.”

“But I voted for him! More than once.”

“Lot’s of people did – for all the reasons you mentioned before,” Tara replied.

“Why was he so open about it? With you?”

“It’s who he was,” Tara said. “Or is.”

“And this isn’t his brother?” Ira said, pressing the flyer into Tara’s hand again. “He’s back?”

“No. And yes,” Tara said. “In that order.”

Tara didn’t believe it could really be his brother, which was good enough for Willow. Tara had known the man best of all.

“What about all this?” Ira said, looking at the boxes full of her past. Some of her Mom’s stuff was in there too. He seemed to accepted what they’d said, though he still seemed shell-shocked, and now he didn’t know what to do.

“It can’t hurt,” Tara said after a silent check with her she was okay with that. Willow nodded, wondering if Tara was thinking what she was thinking.

That this was, in fact, an opportunity. Now they knew where he was, part of what he was doing – without having to spend hours they didn’t have looking for him. All they had to do was follow the Speak and Spell.

Ira seemed doubtful. “But if he did – if he has this evil plan, what does he want to do with all this?”

“He’s not a liar,” Tara said. “If he says it’s for the kids then it will be.”

Willow grabbed the box of farm animals. “Okay, but these aren’t going anywhere near him.”

Then she put the Speak and Spell on top of it, and made a grab for the Cabbage-Patch doll too.

“Willow,” Tara said sternly. “You can have one thing for yourself – the animals plus one more. That’s it.”

“Awww, Tara!”

But she supposed they did need something to take to him. Just to see what was going on.


****************

[Katharyn]

Happy Holidays readers. (Or I hope you had a good one if you come back to this later.)

This week's part has been postponed for a final tuneup I don't really have time for today. I'll get around to posting it as soon as I can.

Katharyn

[Forrister]

Joyous (insert particlular holiday you celebrate at this time of year here)! and Happy New Year!

I survived the holiday insanity and now have times (and the means) to reply. Did think of you all - was busy with my present from Santa. Santa bought me a nice new computer (some assembly required) . . . to be strictly accurate he bought lots of boxes with bits in which had to be put together and coaxed into operation. Yes, and Brandy the cat helped by getting into everything. Anyhow, I can now say that I have built my own computer! Woo Hoo! (I bet Willow never did that, although I bet she set up a few systems.) And yes, I am feeling particularly smug that I did it all myself. I guess this makes me an official techno geek.



Anyhow - enough bragging - I really liked this part because you got Ira's attitude just right. The Mayor was always honest, always hard working and always did the best he could for 'his' people. It would be hard for anyone to fault him in that - and if you didnt know he was more along the lines of a shepherd who took really good care of the flock so that he could one day stuff himself with the mutton, you'd think he was a really great guy. Thats the only side Ira ever saw. I can't blame him for being a little sceptical at what Willow and Tara are telling him - in fact its a measure of his trust in them that he accepts the idea at all, even though I sense major (or Mayor) reservations. I don't think he'll really get it until he sees the bad stuff for himself - people generally find it hard to think the worst of people they trust unless they see the bad for themselves.

The whole morality of should they kill him now, or wait until he's done something bad has come back into the story. Tara wrestled with this herself when she was working with him. It was a bit easier then as she had to weigh up two evils - and the vampires were the more immediate problem. She's agonised over this before, so making a decision (even a 'for the time being' decision) comes more easily now. Willow is going through this for the first time as last time she was a vampire and didn't really give a toss for moral considerations - just her own wants and needs. Now she is human she has to deal with the moral aspect and that can't be easy for her.

Where is this going? I have no idea. But I am enjoying the journey.

Be well and have a great holiday season hun.

Forrister

Accipere quam facere praestat injuriam.
It is better to suffer an injustice than to do an injustice.

[Katharyn]

Congratulations on the computer! Very bold of you. Are you sure there isn't a Brandi Drive in there somewhere?

I agree with you, the people of Sunnydale have to have been blind to the Mayor's other activities and if so, if they had a Mayor who cared, then wouldn't they be nostalgic about him? Wouldn't they respect him? I used Ira to characterise this because someone needed to. Someone outside the 'fight.' It needed this look at the morality of what they were considering. And they needed to see another viewpoint.

Even though Ira comes around to understand maybe they will need to do something, I think he helps them see that they can't just do something now. They have to wait. Just in case.

Thanks for the support this year hun, and I promise - next year will be the last one for Sidestep! (if you reasd this in 2007, you should look at the datestamp - it's not going into 2008!)

Next part in just a moment,

Katharyn.

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - Signals (Part 208)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Tara and Willow arrive at the Giles’ having investigated the former Mayor’s charity.
Disclaimer: I 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. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: This part was pure joy to work on. Parts give me greater or lesser amounts of fun and enjoyment to work on depending on the content (I hate parts I have to write just to tell the story!) and my mood. This one… it advances the plot in a significant way, but it was also a lot of fun. I hope you enjoy it too! Oh, and with regard to the mention of “waggling fingers” and signals… me and mine really do this. Doesn’t anyone else?
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Signals

By

Katharyn Rosser



“Oh Willow, come on!” Tara called after her girlfriend as the first of them came into the apartment. “Will you just listen to me? I didn’t do anything!”

“No, I’m not talking to you right now,” Willow said. At least – Jenny thought as she looked up as they came in – there wasn’t any slamming of doors.

But then the girls didn’t slam doors. They left that for Toni.

On the other hands the girls didn’t fight either, so her world was being set considerably askew. This was what happened when you let your best friends have a key to your home. Your world was set askew without warning.

“Oh come on, you know that won’t last half an hour,” Tara said as she came inside and closed the door behind her.

Jenny pulled her hand back, she’d just been about to point to the door and ask them to close it. But hey, already done. Instead she watched and listened to the askew thing.

But it looked like Tara was right, right now it looked like Willow couldn’t last half a minute not talking to her.

“Just because I love you, and I can’t resist you,” Willow replied, showing just a hint of how they usually talked to each other, “doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed at you once in a while.”

“You’re pissed at me?” Tara asked, seemingly genuinely shocked at that revelation, but Jenny had known it since they walked in. Perhaps she should’ve been a little more perceptive about her girlfriend’s moods. Then maybe she’d have realised and they might not even be having this, whatever this was.

On the other hand she was still surprised by it. “You’re pissed at her?” she asked, depositing Ben into Willow’s embrace without even waiting for a ‘hello.’

Her arm was going to sleep even if her son wasn’t. Willow could take over for a little while, now she was here.

“Yes, I’m pissed at her,” Willow said – but more quietly now she had Ben. She started to bounce him a little, hearing him gurgle with pleasure. “And you can tell her that for me – she isn’t listening when I say it.”

Tara rolled her eyes as Jenny turned to her. “She’s pissed at you.”

“I heard,” Tara said, then turned back to her girlfriend. “Come on, Will, you know exactly what I was doing.”

“I saw what you were doing after you got rid of me,” Willow said seriously.

Jenny had to admit she was intrigued. Arguments between these two – at least what she’d seen or heard about later – came less frequently than arguments between the two sets of couples and she could only count those on the fingers of one hand.

This was a kind of special occasion, in its own way. Not a good one, but certainly something to be paid attention to. Not that she had a moment’s worry about their future. In fact she was sure that in a couple of hours they’d have had some hot make-up sex and that’d be that. That was what they did. But for now…

“Got rid of you? Oh no,” Tara disagreed. “I’m not having that. You were the one who chose to be the sneaky cat. You chose the roof. I turned around and you were halfway up the ladder already!”

“I was being subtle, not a sneaky cat,” Willow corrected. “And you were looking up my skirt.”

“See!” Tara said. “You see how much I love you. I love you enough to look up your skirt at the slightest opportunity.” Tara wanted it to be a joke, Jenny could tell, but Willow wasn’t biting.

“Uh-huh?” Willow asked. “That’s your big expression of affection?”

“I’d express my affection some more, but you don’t seem to be in the mood,” Tara said. And she did look a little… flushed. “Besides, I’m not sure Jenny wants to have to leave her own living room.”

“Don’t mind me,” Jenny added into the mix, fascinated with their ‘conversation’ with each other. She didn’t think she’d ever seen them have a falling out quite like this – even though it must happen from time to time. About what to do about some demon, or their futures – yeah. But never quite like this.

Everyone fell out from time to time. Even people as in love as Willow and Tara. Didn’t mean you were having problems, it meant you were dealing with the things that caused problems if you didn’t express them. As long as you didn’t take it to excess… she actually thought the occasional fight was healthy. Bottling things up was what hurt a relationship, not letting it out.

But usually you had these expressions of free speech in your own apartment – at least she and Rupert did.

“Sometimes,” Tara said, “the direct approach can work. It just seemed faster and less dirty than being a sneaky cat up on the roof.”

Jenny looked at them again. While Tara was pristine, Willow looked like she was smudged with dirt and oil. Not just smudged, more… smeared in places. “You are a bit mucky,” she said to her friend.

“Better mucky than flirty,” Willow said with her arms folded around herself and Ben protectively.

Jenny turned to Tara. “You flirted?” she asked. Wow… Now she could see what’d got Willow so pissed. Tara just didn’t flirt; she’d probably never needed to. What she did with Willow at this stage in their relationship wasn’t flirting. More like most people’s definition of foreplay.

Tara wasn’t happy with that accusation though.

“Oh, by the Goddess, Willow! Look, I wasn’t flirting! How many times do I have to say that?” Tara demanded. “I was gaining entry.”

Jenny knew there was a joke there, but it didn’t seem like the best time to mention it.

“Is ]that what you call it now?” Willow wondered sarcastically, then rubbed her nose against Ben’s.

“To the premises!” Tara wasn’t having this accusation hanging over her. “You know you’re the only one for me. Besides, he was older than Rupert!”

“Oh, thank you very much,” the man in question said as he passed through the room without stopping to see what was happening.

“You flirted with a guy?” Jenny asked, shocked once again. Or maybe it was the same shock elongated?

“I did not flirt! I chatted with him. I can do that right?” Tara checked. I’m allowed aren’t I? I don’t need permission do I?”

“Don’t ask me,” Jenny said. “That’s up to Willow, I guess.” Willow wasn’t saying much – she was quietly fuming. “But he let you in though?”

This was like tennis. She was looking one way, then the other as the match unfolded.

“Yes, he let me in. For all that he was seventy years old,” Tara said, stressing the age again.

“Oh yes, that is older than me,” Rupert said, carrying the trash past them to the door. “I’m glad you can mention me in the same breath as someone in their eighth decade and wouldn’t worry about hurting my feelings.”

“Shh,” Jenny chided him.

“He was a minimum wage rent-a-cop subsidising his retirement,” Tara pointed out.

“So you flirted with a seventy year old, and now you know his life history huh?” Jenny asked, knowing she was just fuelling the fire. It couldn’t be that serious if this was all Willow was bothered about – in fact it seemed her friend was probably being overly sensitive.

“No.” Tara said. “I. Did. Not. Flirt. With. Him. I mean hello! Gay. Heavily into the big gay love. I thought you might both have noticed.”

“I noticed,” Rupert called out as he came back in, heading to the kitchen to wash his hands.

“So how did you get inside?” Jenny wondered. “If you didn’t flirt?”

“I had a donation,” Tara said patiently.

“Yes, you donated my Speak and Spell,” Willow accused.

“So he let me in,” Tara said, ignoring Willow’s problem with it. “It’s that simple.”

Yeah, maybe Willow was being just a little paranoid? Just a touch, perhaps. She was tending to come down on Tara’s side here.

“Did you mention the ‘big gay love’ to the other guard, the one inside?” Willow wondered almost idly. So casually it was obvious that was the real point of her ire.

Another guard, inside? Jenny looked to Tara again.

“So you saw that?” Tara asked, perhaps with an edge of doubt creeping into her voice.

So there was something to answer for? Hmm, more and more interesting. Back to Willow for a reaction shot then.

“I went up to the skylight, baby. Remember?”

“Then you saw me give her the donation?” Tara checked as she nodded.

Her?

Ooh. Now that was definitely getting into the sort of territory Willow might have concerns about. Jenny would’ve been willing to bet this other guard hadn’t been seventy. She probably hadn’t even been half that age.

“Yeah, I saw you give her my Speak and Spell, and my Sapphy!” Willow said, momentarily switching her protests to the parts of her childhood that’d been given away.

Of course, they’d only come across this link to the old Mayor because Ira had received a flyer asking for charity donations. Supposedly for the kids who’d been orphaned months earlier in Sunnydale’s sewers, that was why Tara and Willow had been there. To find out if it was true, or if there was something else going on.

Handing over some of Willow’s old toys had seemed a good way for them to get to see what was really happening there.

Once again Jenny found herself looking from side to side as each of the girls spoke, so was her husband opposite her.

“So?” Tara asked. “We agreed we’d do that, remember?”

“I watched you talking, I’d actually use the word ‘flirting’, with her for more than ten minutes,” Willow said, ignoring the question about the toys. “And she wasn’t seventy or a guy.”

She shoots, she scores, Jenny thought. Now they were really into it.

“I was pumping her for information,” Tara said patiently. “That’s what we were there for. To find things out.”

Willow didn’t hesitate before throwing that back at her girlfriend; she was on it quick as a flash. “Oh yeah, she looked like she certainly wanted to be pumped by you. Maybe to do a little pumping of her own.”

“Hey! Come on, Willow! Be fair! Is it my fault I’m attractive to a certain kind of woman?”

“Yes!” Willow said quickly.

“I hardly think that’s fair – ” Rupert interjected unwisely, only for Willow to twist around and fix him with an icy stare. “Or perhaps it’s very fair indeed. I’m sure it’s the very epitome of fairness.”

“It is Tara’s fault when she’s encouraging the woman,” Willow said – probably for the benefit of the two of them rather than Tara.

“I didn’t encourage her,” Tara said. “But I had to talk to her to find things out.”

“Like her phone number?” Willow asked.

“I never got her phone number.” Tara told her, just a touch impatiently. Jenny could tell she’d chosen the words very precisely, just to point out Willow’s unreasonableness.

But it was only unreasonable if it wasn’t true and Tara really hadn’t convinced anyone she hadn’t flirted… even just a little. Willow seemed pretty convinced.

“What did you want me to do?” Tara asked. “Throw the Speak and Spell at her?”

“By the end of those ten minutes, yes I’d have liked that. You flirted,” Willow said. “Come on – admit it.”

“No, Willow, I won’t admit what’s not true. Besides, how could you even hear?” Tara asked.

“I didn’t need to hear,” Willow said to her girlfriend. “I could see you with Sunnydale’s butchest security guard.”

“Oh yeah, the skylight. It’s only three or four storeys up and filthy. It must be real easy to make out what’s going on from up there.”

“The skylight was close enough for me to see what I needed to,” Willow said. “She was totally into you – at least she wanted to be. I didn’t even need a gaydar to make that out.”

On the other hand, Jenny mused, Willow’s gaydar was reputedly the worst in Sunnydale’s gay and lesbian community. Willow had said it herself – there was really only one person she was interested in knowing was gay, and she was already sleeping with her. No gaydar required. Everyone else would tell her, make it obvious or remain anonymous. At least until Tara said something.

Willow had never even figured out Larry was gay, and that boy hadn’t been fooling anyone.

“Okay, I’ll admit she was gay. And yes, she did seem interested in me,” Tara said after a deep breath. “But this is my fault how?”

Jenny turned back to Willow, waiting for further information. A ten minute talk and they’d gotten to the guard being interested? Fast work by someone. Either that or Tara really was irresistible as Willow maintained.

“You giggled,” Willow said.

Uh-oh. She giggled?

Tara giggling? With another woman?

Even Rupert saw the danger in that and wisely neither of them said anything, but they did share a look. One that neither of the girls missed.

“She was funny!” Tara said, clearly not seeing what she and Rupert could – at least from Willow’s point of view. “You’d have thought she was funny too – if you’d been there.”

“You unfastened an extra button too,” Willow went on.

“Before I got there! Before either of us laid eyes on her, or knew there was a her to lay eyes on! And it’s a hot night,” Tara said firmly.

“I’m sure it would’ve been hot,” Willow said, “if she’d have gotten her way with you.”

“It’s really not that warm – ” This time it was Tara’s look that shut Rupert up. She didn’t want any dissent now. “Or yes… very close, and… err… hot.” He made a play of fanning himself even with the AC on and the vent right behind him.

“I undid the button before we got there,” Tara repeated. “You ran your finger into it! And it’s hardly like this is indecent!” She demonstrated how low her blouse had been open.

Jenny looked, and had to admit she often went out, or to school to teach with her blouse open that far, or a sweater cut just as low. Nothing wrong at all there. Perhaps that one was a little judgemental on Willow’s part. Who’d been the one who used to wear the corset?

Okay, as a vampire – but still…

She watched as Willow harrumphed and went on to her next point. “You pushed your hair back,” Willow said, and she sounded as if this was the clincher for her.

Tara just looked at her as if she was completely mad, which in Willow’s mood might not have been the best policy. “I’ve got long hair – ” Tara started to say.

“You know how sexy it is when you push your hair back,” Willow pressed.

“To you!” Tara insisted.

“No,” Jenny felt she had to say. “It’s generally sexy.” She had a lot of sympathy with Willow on that one. “It’s sexy for all sorts of people. I find it sexy.”

Every pair of eyes in the room turned on her, forgetting their arguments for a moment. What? She couldn’t have an opinion? It wasn’t like she was insecure in her sexuality now was it? But still they looked at her as if she’d just revealed something about herself.

After a couple of moment’s puzzlement at her expense – and Jenny actually felt herself blushing - they got back into their ‘conversation.’

“What if she found it sexy too?” Willow asked, taking another quick look in her direction. Jenny had the impression Willow was trying to weigh something up about her but was too caught up in her argument with Tara to give it the attention she wanted to.

And that was just fine with her. She was perfectly happy being the teaser – not the teasee.

“Well whoopee for her!” Tara said. “I can’t believe you’re jealous. Especially of something that didn’t even happen!”

“I am not jealous!” Willow said, bristling. “Especially of her!”

“Yeah, right,” Tara agreed with just the right amount of sarcasm to set Willow off again. “You are so jealous and you have no reason to be. None at all.”

Something about this was all wrong. What was really behind this? Surely this wasn’t the real cause of their spat? It wasn’t like Tara and Willow never argued. Everyone argued, but this was the first time she’d seen them fight about something like this. They were so into each other, so in love and so utterly predictable in never needing anyone else in their lives they were practically boring.

So was there something to Willow’s accusations or was her friend being paranoid? And why didn’t it add up to her? Why was the vibe just so… wrong? It wasn’t because they were having this fight – the vibe was about the fight. Something just didn’t ring true to her.

“I saw you waggle your fingers at her,” Willow said.

“Pardon?” Rupert asked.

“Yeah,” Willow said, plainly taking his question to be one of surprise rather than misunderstanding. “She did that!”

“But… what?” he shrugged, clearly not getting the reference.

“It’s… it’s a… signal we use,” Tara said and coughed to clear a frog from her throat. One that probably hadn’t even been there but gave her an excuse to do something other than tell him plainly what it meant.

“Sign language?” he wondered.

“No. Well, kind of. It’s to suggest what we… what we might want to do. Together. In private.” Tara said desperately – not getting any help from Willow at all. “And I did not do that with her! Or to her. In her presence. Agh! You know what I mean.”

“Sorry, perhaps I’m being unconscionably thick… but can we go back to the signal?” Rupert asked, perplexed. “I’m sure I must have missed something.”

“Oh for God’s sake, English,” Jenny chastised him. “Figure it out.” She gave him the signal in question and both Tara and Willow blushed. It wasn’t even their only signal. They had a few little gestures they used when they were feeling… playful. She didn’t think they’d even realised anyone else might’ve figured them out.

Obviously her husband hadn’t.

“For the record, I didn’t do that,” Tara said – gesturing at what Jenny was doing, then retracting her finger when that might’ve been taken the wrong way too.

“I saw you,” Willow said. “And waggling your finger is waaaay beyond flirting. That’s so far beyond flirting it’s almost coming all the way back around.”

“Huh?” Tara asked.

What was Willow talking about?

“Okay,” Willow admitted, “that coming back around thing made no sense. But I did see her doing it!”

“I don’t get the signal,” Rupert said. “I’ve seen you doing it but…” He shrugged again.

Tara ignored his confusion and went over to her girlfriend. “Willow. Baby, listen to me.” She held up her hand. “I was trying to be subtle and show her my ring, so I didn’t have to be obvious and say I was committed.” Tara bent forward and kissed lips that initially resisted her but couldn’t hold the line for long.

“You were?”

“Of course I was, silly,” Tara said.

The ring Willow had given her, matching one she wore. On one of those very fingers.

Back when Willow had given it to Tara, Jenny had found it immensely sweet. Now she saw Willow’s expression change to instant regret at doubting her lover, but she wondered why that’d be? These women had a connection no one else had. They knew each other’s thoughts if they wanted to. They knew each other’s hearts.

When they wanted to, that was the key here.

So hadn’t Willow wanted to know the truth? Couldn’t she just have ‘felt’ what was really happening when she’d been at the skylight?

Certainly Tara wouldn’t have been hiding it from her – that would’ve been the first argument Willow would’ve made pointing to her girlfriend’s ‘guilt.’ So that meant she’d never even tried and therefore how worried could she really have been?

So… what’d this all been about? Were they playing with each other? Was this a game? Did they like to pretend, sometimes, that they didn’t have that intimate connection – that they could doubt each other? When you knew each other’s hearts just by opening your own, did you have to play at doubting each other?

Or had Willow just been unreasonably riled by the actions of the security guard and wanted to take that out on Tara with some teasing? If so it was the kind of trick she might’ve pulled, Jenny realised.

“Oh, baby…” Willow sighed and kissed her girlfriend back, hiking Ben out to one side of her so they could get close enough. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Tara said. “It’s kinda cute actually. I mean jealousy – not her,” she clarified.

“Mmm, cute huh?” Willow asked, with a familiar smile on her lips now.

“Yeah,” Tara confirmed. “I’d go that far.”

And Jenny now had a much clearer idea of what was going on here. The almost instant change around, with no hint of guilt? Dead giveaway.

“Would you go as far as attractive?” Willow asked.

“At least,” Tara agreed.

“How about sexy?” Willow suggested.

“Definitely,” Tara said and pushed her hair back in that sexy way Willow loved. With the way Tara smiled too, Jenny could appreciate what Willow – or anyone else who was interested – would see in that gesture.

And from where she was, she could also see Tara’s fingers drumming against the inside of Willow’s palm. Giving the signal, without even needing to be seen.

“Maybe even hot?” Willow guessed.

“I er…” Tara paused, looking around at them. A decision seemed to have been made. She nodded.

“We need to…” Willow gestured at the door. She seemed to be in complete agreement with her girlfriend.

“Go,” Tara completed for her.

“Yes… leave,” Willow said. “There’s someone I need to…”

“Waggle?” Jenny asked mischievously.

“Heck yes,” Willow agreed. “And do… Do… Ah, I need to do her too.”

Tara grinned, obviously as far along in her thoughts as Willow. But then they did have that connection. How many of these sorts of feelings could they share? And what sort of effect would it have on them when they were both… ready to waggle?

“Excuse me,” Rupert said as they got ready to leave. “I’m still not clear - ”

“Jenny will explain the… She’ll explain,” Tara said firmly. “We need to - ”

“No,” Rupert stopped them. “I meant, why are you here at all?”

Good question… all that’d happened was they’d come in, ‘fought’ and got ready to… leave.

“To tell you what happened,” Willow said.

“To tell you what the Mayor’s doing,” Tara agreed as if he must’ve missed something if he hadn’t gotten that. Then she took Ben, cooed over him for a moment and pressed him back into his father’s arms while Willow got their coats.

“And?” Rupert asked.

“And what?” Willow sounded impatient to be out of here.

“What happened?”

“You never said,” Jenny pointed out.

Willow and Tara looked at each other, realising once more they had other places to be. “Oh,” Tara said. “It’s legit – full of charity donations and toys and things. That’s it.”

“Gotta go,” Willow said, virtually dragging her girlfriend out of the door.

“Yeah, bye!” Tara called it out from half way down the driveway.

Now there was a couple that was hot to trot.

She sat there, looking at the closed door for a few seconds, then after a moment's thought… “Bet you ten they don’t even get home first,” she said.

“That’s very personal,” Rupert chided. “And not the kind of thing you should make a wager about.”

She looked at him until he relented. “How would you find out?” he asked.

“I’ll ask one of them, of course,” she said. Sometimes he was so quaint and English.

“And they’ll tell you?”

“Eventually, one of them will,” she said. “If sufficiently motivated.” She saved motivation up for times like these.

“Make it twenty?”

“College fund?” she suggested. That was where their wagers generally went; it was just a question of who’d pay the extra into it. The pleasure was in the winning.

“Absolutely.”

“Then sure, I’ll go twenty.” He had too much faith in the girls’ proprietary for his own good. “Put Ben down for me?” she asked. “I’ll get Faith to bed.”

“Certainly,” he agreed, perhaps with an inkling about what she was about to suggest. Was she so transparent.

“Then I’ll show you just what all those signals of theirs mean,” she offered. She was just in the mood for some of that… Then maybe she’d let him do something the girls couldn’t. She was in the mood for that too.

“Oh,” he said. “If you insist. In this case ignorance wouldn’t be bliss.”

***************