tiredsoul - Thanks, that was wonderful feedback. Someone on my wavelength. I had a lot of time for Faith in the original show, especially when she set out on the path to redemption. It could have paralleled Angel's journey. That was a missed opportunity, IMV. Now, she's back in RW "Buffy", in all probability to die, to kick off DtVS. Yuck.
This update includes a cliffhanger which is gratuitously cruelRating: PG-13 Moderate to severe angst.
ACK (Anguished Cliffhanger Kittens) warning applies.
Song credits: “Randwick Bells”, Paul Kelly; “Links”, Schneider/Lorenz/Kruspe-Bernstein/Lindemann/Landers/Riedel nb: some lyrics are in German, translation is in the next update but one, there’s nothing nasty in it don’t worry.
The next morning, Willow woke to what sounded like church bells. She had been dreaming that she was listening to Tara playing her guitar and singing.
Randwick bells are ringing
Must be Saturday
Put a blanket on the window
And come on back to bedThe moment she opened her eyes, the bells stopped. It was a quiet sunny morning. Birds twittered discreetly in the treetops. Willow felt her head. It’s Monday, why the church bells? Bells? Bells!
In a flash Willow was wide awake, flinging the bedclothes off. As she jumped to her feet, her brain began to wake up, and Tara’s message came through.
Tonight, Willow. I must see you tonight. Come to me.
Already? That was quick! Oh wonderful, Tara has news, she’s found herself, everything’s going to be okay! Unless… Willow crushed her pessimism down. She threw on a robe and skipped down the corridor to the shower. Dawn was in there already. Tra-la, no problem, breakfast first, shower later. It’s a great, big beautiful day!
“Morning, Buffy,” Willow sang, entering the kitchen. The Slayer looked oddly back at her.
“If I was Giles, I’d be saying something like: ‘Young lady, you’re awfully chipper this morning.’” Buffy even managed a passable imitation of Giles’ plummy accent, which made Willow gasp with laughter. It was the first genuine laugh Buffy had heard from Willow in months. “Okay Will, ‘fess up. Tara’s upstairs, right?”
“No, but I’m seeing her tonight. She called.”
“I didn’t hear the phone.”
“No, no, she
called. It’s a wicca thing.” Buffy looked unconvinced. It was also a vampire thing - like that caped Carpathian kook, Dracula.
Willow poured herself a healthy slug of juice and set about wolfing down a sizeable bowl of cereal. Buffy sat and watched her pensively. As Willow was finishing up, Dawn arrived, hair dried and brushed, dressed for school. Willow seized the moment and dashed for the shower. The teenager downed a glass of juice and reached for the toast.
“Not like you to dawdle over breakfast, Buffy,” Dawn observed, chewing.
“Hm? Oh yeah, it’s getting to that time, isn’t it?” Buffy said. “I’ve gotta make a call.” The Slayer took the phone handset into the lounge room. When her call was answered, Buffy said, too quietly for Dawn to hear, “Hi, yeah it’s Buffy. Fine, listen, can you keep an eye on Willow today? She seems to be having some funny kind of a mood swing. I don’t know. Thanks, see you later.”
Willow did not notice anything out the ordinary when she came back downstairs and looked into the kitchen. Buffy was finishing her coffee and Dawn was clearing up. “See you guys!” the redhead trilled as she headed for the front door.
A Monday morning with Anya could be tolerable or downright depressing. Willow was determined to let nothing spoil her buoyant mood. She smiled warmly at each and every customer, she did not allow Anya to get at her, even when the demon tried to draw her on the subject of the couple of days off work she’d had after Tara was shot. No, it’s Sunny Willow today, see my broad smile? Yes good morning madam and how may I help you today? Why, yes! I think you’ll find these are just what you are looking for. Thank you, that’s no problem at all, just sign here please. You’re welcome, have a nice day.
Willow was in such a whirl that for a while she didn’t even notice that Anya had left the shop. The redhead looked about. No customers, how disappointing for Anya. What to do, what to do? Idly, Willow levitated a pen off the counter, making it twirl in mid-air slowly and majestically, then she got it to describe some neat vertical figure eights. Show-off Willow!
“What are you doing?” Anya said as she emerged from the training room at the back of the shop. Willow neatly caught the pen in mid-air and tossed it back up again, pretending to be juggling it. But when it came back down, she missed and it clattered onto the counter.
“Oh, nothing,” Willow smiled. “Just, no customers, working on my - fine motor skills, no big.”
“Are there any more boxes in the basement to be unpacked?” Anya asked.
“Maybe a couple; I’ll go see,” the redhead answered, and she went down to the basement on her errand. Anya watched her go and picked up the telephone.
The very few remaining boxes turned out to be full of broken items and they all ended up in the trash. On coming back upstairs, Willow found Anya sitting on a chair in the middle of the still-empty shop, looking unhappy.
“Do you all laugh at me?” the blonde demon asked suddenly.
“No, oh no Anya! Why would we do that?” Willow reassured her.
“For being so blind and stupid that I got engaged to Xander. Engaged! And he left me at the altar, and all the time he was gay.”
“It’s more complicated than that, Anya. He asked you to marry him, and I think at the time he meant it.”
“But he’s gay. Gay men don’t marry women…”
“Well, actually,…” Willow began.
“He’s probably known all his life. And you’ve known him since you were squalling brats, you probably knew too.”
“Honestly Anya I didn’t; it was hard enough knowing and accepting me for what I am. Xander had a hard time in high school. There was all this pressure: to be cool, to be macho, preferably a jock, y’know, to date girls, to ‘lose it’ as soon as possible. Imagine what that was like for Xander, he wasn’t cool, he wasn’t a jock, girls like Harmony and Cordelia were always putting him down. You missed most of it, you only showed up in senior year.”
“Oh yes, once again I’m the demon-come-lately, I don’t know because I haven’t grown up human. I’m sick of being treated this way,” Anya objected.
“I’m sorry Anya, I know it must be hard for you, but it’s a fact. Growing up isn’t easy. We make mistakes along the way.”
“And my mistake was pursuing a man who could never love me.”
“No,” Willow said. “Xander does love you, just not - that way. Try - try to be happy for him, just as he would be happy for you if you met someone who could love you and be with you.”
“Do you really think that Xander would be that way - if I met someone?” Anya asked.
“Sure,” Willow smiled reassuringly. Under her breath, the redhead added, “If only you would. Oo, customers,” she concluded, and there were indeed a couple of people entering the shop.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Towards late afternoon, Anya decided it was time to do stocktaking and throw out any outdated spell ingredients. This almost punctured Willow’s good humour, because Anya was such a stickler that this activity could last until well into the night. Willow thought about asking to be excused, but decided that she could just go straight from the shop to the Espresso Pump from work. Why would I need a shower? Tara almost certainly won’t have had one; maybe she can walk me home and we can have one together, after she’s told me her news.
Delightful images of naked Willow and Tara in a steamy shower running through her mind, Willow locked the shop and helped Anya with the allotted tasks. It took a couple of hours, and the sun had long set by the time they were done. Willow for once welcomed nightfall in Sunnydale, because it meant that Tara was out there, somewhere.
“Would you like me to drive you home?” Anya asked. “It’s after dark.”
“Oh, I’m not going home, but thanks,” Willow replied, on her way to the door.
“But -”
“See you tomorrow, Anya!” Willow was gone.
The Espresso Pump was just a couple of well-lit blocks from the Magic Box, and Willow ran most of the way. She stopped short. There were a few people at tables, not many, but importantly there was no Tara. Oh, wait, she was there last night, she wouldn’t normally play two nights in a row, but where else would she want me to meet her? Willow dashed up to the counter to see Ray.
“Hello Willow,” Ray said. “Latte or mocha this time?”
“Actually I was looking for Tara.”
“Not tonight, she’s moved up.”
“Where?”
“Gig at the Bronze tonight. Full electric show, should be interesting. I might catch the end if I can close early enough. I’m okay with it, people come for the coffee, stay for the music or they come for the music and stay for the coffee; either way they buy my coffee.”
“The Bronze? Thanks Ray, gotta go.”
Willow slipped through the front door of the Bronze into its familiar welcoming semi-darkness, to find herself engulfed in a maelstrom of noise. Upon the stage, a five-piece band was playing some anvil-heavy rock, all rumbling bass, crunching, distorted guitars and chaotic drumming. Before the stage, a mosh pit heaved and undulated like some great dark beast. And there at the front of the stage, prowling from side to side like a caged leopard was Tara in her leather coat and a pair of tight leather pants. She had come out from behind her acoustic guitar tonight, just a cordless microphone in her hand.
Willow slowly squeezed her way through the crowd, trying to get a closer look at Tara. Scattered comments and snatches of conversation reached her ears: “They rock!”, “Wow, she’s hot, man!”, “Kick-ass!”, “She not even sweatin’, she’s incredible!” Willow took a couple of deep breaths, for the crowd was packed in very tightly. The redhead had never known the Bronze to be quite this energetic; it felt like the roof was going to come off the place at any moment. At least, it hasn’t been this lively, Willow thought, since the night I got plastered on beer and danced around like a nut, the night Oz…had his stuff moved out of campus. Why am I reminded of that terrible time now?
On tiptoes, Willow could just make out Tara’s face. The vampire glared at the audience as she paced, daring the masses to come and try to take centre stage from her. Astonished, Willow noticed for the first time that Tara was singing in German.
“Können Herzen singen
Kann ein Herze springen
Können Herzen rein sein
Kann ein Herz aus Stein rein
Sie wollen mein Herz am rechten Fleck
Doch seh ich dann nach unten Weg
Dann schlägt es links
Links zwo links zwo
Links zwo drei vier links”,
Tara beat at her left breast with her free hand and hissed and howled into the microphone as the loud, demented music blasted out into the seething crush of bodies. What was going on here? Willow knew some German, but Tara was singing too quickly and with all the other noise, it was difficult to make out. Something about a “heart made of stone”? No, surely not…
Suddenly confused, Willow felt all of her confidence evaporate away, and for a moment she thought she was a scared teenager again, back in the days when she was too young to drink and too scared to even ask for alcohol, when she used to mind tables, wearing her fluffy jumpers and little-girl sneakers and she would sit watching other people having all the fun. Willow looked up at Tara again, and a lump came to her throat as she suddenly understood that Tara had called her to the Bronze tonight to tell her it was all over. There was no place for little, scared, nerdy Willow by the side of rock goddess Tara; it was ridiculous. Oh no! Willow thought, Tara didn’t take any blood with her when she left; she probably ate some poor person and loved it so much that she knows it’s what she wanted all along. Of course she wouldn’t want me anymore. No; Tara’s going to date the singer in another band, maybe she’ll be a werewolf or a demon and have an exotic name like Verruca Plantaris, they’ll have long heavy conversations about amps and strings and tuning and E-bows and a hundred other esoteric things that geeky Willow knows nothing about. Tara had left to find that piece of Tara within herself, she hadn’t found it and, unsurprisingly, she’d found that Willow wasn’t there either.
Shattered, tears filling her eyes, Willow turned to leave.
(To be continued)
Hee...
I hope someone finds Chastity soon though. She so needs a stake in her heart. 
I really don't like the sound of that. Please tell me that everything will be okay. Whatever this is, is thing going to happen in the next update? I just want to be prepared for it. 
It doesn't mean anything cruel happens in the story, it just means 24 hours of Kitten torment and anxiety. No big.
....Faith's so nice!! How come? And she had the same dream as well?? Interesting! 
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I hear Faith saying, "B," to Buffy everytime I call you that. 