AS TIME GOES BY
Part 25
Synopsis: Xander's cooties have taken a turn for the worse. Can the Scoobies help him get relief before it's too late? Oh, and Kyra's supposed to be a Guardian, too. Willow and Tara are not thrilled.
Pairings: Willow and Tara; Time and Time Again.
(Time is something of a narcissist.)Disclaimer: My worldly possessions do not include any of these characters; they do, however, include two ball gloves, seven cats, and eleven knee surgery scars. (Just counted 'em right now!)
Distribution: Like taxation, distribution without titular representation is not of the cool and yes, I'm thinking of so many bad jokes right now.
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Why do I ever let myself think that things can't get any more desperate? Xander's revelation stunned them all into silence. That silence, though, was remarkably brief.
"Are you sure?"
"How'd you hear?"
"Any chance it's not our guy?"
"Are you sure?"
The need for certainty quickly eclipsed all other questions.
"We're not a hundred percent certain it's our Big Bad, but the story sure sounds way too familiar," Xander said, obviously not pleased at having to share this news. "Her name was Lydia Thompson. She was the priest at the Episcopalian church on Pacula. We heard about it on the news. She was married; had been for eighteen years. Had three kids: 15, 12, and 7. They talked to three parishioners who said she'd been in great spirits just the day before. News said nobody knew of any depression or suicide attempts in the past. I figured we'd better head over here and get cracking with the hacking, see what we could find out."
"You're right to be alarmed," Giles admitted, "but it's possible this is an unrelated death. The suicide rate among clergy is regrettably high."
"As opposed to the other kinds of suicide rate?" Buffy asked as Willow sprinted upstairs to grab her laptop.
"Point taken," came the Watcher's reply.
Moments later, they were clustered tightly about the small screen, jostling to see any scrap of information.
Please don't let it be him. That would mean only two more...In Sunnydale, though, saying "Please" only rarely got you what you wanted.
"No history of serious mental illness, at least insofar as formal treatment is concerned," Giles murmured, summarizing. "No apparent legal, medical, or financial difficulty. And," he added, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "a singular history of good deeds." He turned away, shaking his head.
"Look at all those awards," Faith whistled, moving in to take Giles' spot. "No doubt about her hotel room in the afterlife."
"Many a socially renowned person has been found to have some horrific skeletons in his or her closet," Giles pointed out, staring out the window. "But I agree--there's certainly no reason not to believe that she was indeed a good and giving soul."
"God..." Buffy muttered. "This is so not what we wanted to hear."
"Well, yeah," Xander replied, eyebrows arched. "I wasn't exactly expecting folks to turn synchronized somersaults of joy." He looked at her curiously. "Why the extra glumminess?"
Everyone glanced uncomfortably at Willow and Tara. Willow sighed and quickly summarized the afternoon's revelations, Xander and Anya growing more distraught by the moment.
When she finished, Xander sat down heavily. "Of course. Of course Kyra's involved. No way does she miss out on the fun." After a moment he looked up. "So how do we stop it?"
I would give anything to hear that subject raised in something other than the interrogative."Behold the brick wall into which we repeatedly slam," Buffy said in obvious frustration, hands on her hips.
A quick rehash of their knowledge to date proved to offer nothing new.
"Well, we know that if you survive one attack, you're basically immune," Anya pointed out, with a worried glance at Xander.
"So that means everybody here's safe except Dawn, Faith, and me," Xander finished. "Think it's saving the best for last?" he added, flashing a very large and very insincere smile.
"Except I don't think Faith will be a target," Tara said. "I mean, they have her pegged as Kyra's protector. If they didn't want anything to happen to Willow or me, they wouldn't want anything to happen to Faith, either."
"Great. So we're expendable," Buffy grumbled. "I'm not part of the prophecy,
and I'm one of those folks on the Away Team that you just
know isn't making it back to the ship. My vanity and I are deeply offended."
"Way to focus on the essentials, Buffy," Willow noted, bemused, though she knew that her best friend was only trying to lighten the mood.
"Much-needed levity," indeed..."Tara's probably right," Anya said, crossing her arms anxiously. "That leaves Xander and Dawn."
"Eight down, two to go," Dawn said softly, looking at Buffy's drawn countenance.
They could all handle danger to their own lives, Willow realized.
We don't lose it until someone we love is threatened.She suddenly noticed that Giles hadn't spoken in several minutes. With a sense of gathering--heightening--dread, she watched the Watcher intently until he met her gaze. Discomfort flashed through his drawn features.
"Giles? What are you thinking?" she asked, knowing as she did that the major stockholders in her psyche really didn't want to hear the answer.
"Please understand, both of you," he began reluctantly. "I realize that of course you want to protect your daughter. Of course that's your greatest concern."
"But...?" Tara asked, her jaw tightening.
"I think we need to consider the possibility that we may not be
able to stop this prophecy from coming to pass," he finished heavily.
No one else could bring themselves to say it."Giles, we
have to stop it," she protested, even as the realization crashed into her brain:
He's right. Hadn't she known it, really, from the moment the Anadeis blithely passed on their information? But she couldn't say it, not even to herself. She felt Tara's hands tightening on her shoulders.
"We can't let them turn Kyra into some tool to use in their battle," Dawn said heatedly.
"Not to mention letting two other innocent people die," Xander added. "We protect people, remember?"
"You act as if I raise this possibility because it brings me pleasure to do so," Giles snapped, his eyes burning angrily. "As if I don't love that child myself."
An awkward silence followed this, until Dawn finally offered softly, "I'm sorry. I know you want to protect her."
Xander nodded. "Yeah, what she said...Sorry."
"We're all on edge," Giles said tersely. "And certainly I recognize that both of you may be targets. I'm just trying to consider the practical aspects of this."
The room fell silent again. No one seemed able to meet anyone else's eyes.
"But it's not just about practicalities, is it?" Tara asked quietly.
"What do you mean?" Anya demanded, but Willow noticed that Giles' only reaction was a tightening around his mouth.
"You're right, Tara. It's...rather a habit you've developed." He smiled mirthlessly, then looked at both of them squarely. "I fear that this entire scenario is more complicated than any of us want to admit."
What's he talking about? She saw that Tara, though, was looking at him steadily even as her fingers trembled slightly upon Willow's shoulders.
"It's tempting to forget that the Anadeis sent Kyra to you in the first place. They didn't pluck her out of the upstairs nursery and inflict this upon her. Wait, please," he said, holding up a hand to forestall the protests already swelling. "Please do not think for a moment that I'm justifying their actions. I'm only attempting to point out what may be uncomfortable considerations."
Even in her fear, Willow felt for the Watcher. This was so often his role.
As if reading her mind, Giles snapped off his glasses, tossing them aside, and ran an exhausted hand over his eyes. "There are times that I loathe this work," he muttered as if to himself. Then he sighed, and met their eyes once more.
"You asked for protection--thank heavens you did. And the Anadeis responded. We were indeed spared. In the process, they delivered a beautiful and very singular child into our lives and our hearts." The Watcher drew a deep breath. "Did any of us truly expect that it would end there?"
Willow glanced worriedly at Tara even as her own heart picked up its already frenetic pace. She half-expected her mate to explode in protest. Her partner, though, seemed to be waging some very private battle. She could feel Tara's energy moving, shifting...Was it possible that the volatility, so quick and visceral in their earlier discussions, was abating? Even slightly?
Baby? What's happening?She realized that others in the room were focused on Tara at this moment as well. Had they also noticed her particular animus for this topic? Whatever the reason, all eyes were trained on Tara's achingly beautiful face. With a closer look, Willow saw two tears wending their way over the curve of her beloved's cheek. They moved with with surpassing slowness, as if realizing that they were forging some new reality within their creator.
Finally Tara met her eyes, and Willow felt a harsh stinging against her own lids. "I didn't expect it," Tara whispered. "I just hoped."
Oh God...I know...Willow swallowed heavily. "Me too, Baby," she answered, her throat aching. "But--but it's more complicated, isn't it?"
Tara nodded mutely, and closed her eyes. Willow gripped her fingers tightly.
Stay with me, love.After a moment, Tara gazed at her again, and Willow saw a quiet, surging determination within the cobalt depths. She leaned down unexpectedly and kissed WIllow gently on the lips. Their eyes met--
I can do anything with you--and then Tara straighted and turned toward the group.
"I think you're probably right, Giles," she said quietly. "But the implications scare my heart practically out of my chest."
"I can only imagine, Tara," the Watcher replied, so softly that Willow wondered if any of the others could even hear him.
"So--let's talk about those implications and I'll try to keep the terror at bay. Willow?"
Willow nodded, tightening her grip on Tara's fingers.
Giles fixed both of them with a long, intense gaze. "We will protect this child," he said softly. "Please believe me."
I believe you'll try, with everthing you have.The Watcher turned to face the others, and his voice took on some measure of his typical steadiness. "The first...implication that comes to mind is that Kyra, according to the spirits who sent her, is destined to play an important role in the events to unfold years from now."
"Right," Tara said, looking at Willow for confirmation. "They said there would be women in the future who will apparently be incredibly powerful...as in, 'change the way things are run' powerful. But their mothers are only kids themselves right now."
"And at least some of the Grand Pooh-Bahs of the future won't take very kindly to a change in the status quo," Xander offered, in what Willow suspected was an overture to Giles in the Watcher's efforts to navigate this painful conversation.
"Right again," Willow nodded, never loosening her grip on Tara's fingers. "That's where...where Kyra's supposed to come in. She'll protect them."
Again with the future tense..."Do we have any other details?" Buffy asked, frowning. Willow could see her best friend struggling to walk a very fine line: commit to the goal of stopping this Big Bad
and be prepared for...the alternative. "Like do we know how many of these women there are? Or how Kyra will know
who they are? And is there one Guardian per Future
Uber-Girl, or is Kyra, like, the chaperone for the whole group?"
Willow glanced uncomfortably up at Tara. "Um, we didn't really get into all of that," she said reluctantly. "We--uh--well, when we learned that Kyra wouldn't become the Guardian unless this Big Bad takes ten good souls, we, uh, decided pretty quickly that we should probably try to focus on--"
"We hung up on them," Tara said simply.
"You hung up on them?" Dawn asked incredulously. "Three immortal spirits with heaven only knows what kind of power, and you just...disconnect?"
"Pretty much," Willow acknowledged ruefully.
Seemed like a good idea at the time...Giles shook his head. "I don't know whether to chastise you for your rashness, or--"
"Pony up some props," Faith grinned. "Bet they pissed their robes."
"Willow called them lazy hags," Tara added. "And I think there was some mention of shoving the prophecy up their asses."
"They made me cranky," Willow said defensively. "All disembodied and bossy."
Buffy looked at her with open affection. "And this from the girl who volunteered to leave her lunch seat the first time I talked to her."
Giles permitted himself a tiny smile. "Kyra will not be inclined to suffer fools gladly," he said. "Not with the two of you as role models." The smile faded quickly. "It would be wise, though, to try to procure more information. It could prove necessary to contact them again."
"Do you think they'd answer the phone?" Anya asked skeptically.
"They will if they think Willow and I have accepted Kyra's role," Tara said quietly.
This effectively brought an end to the quasi-merriment.
"Which brings us back to that possibility," Giles replied. "If this prophecy is true, these women will be in danger and Kyra will be both trained and destined to protect them."
He left that point hanging in the air until Willow reluctantly picked it up. "You're saying that these women might die if Kyra isn't acting as their Guardian."
Another thick silence feel over the room. Finally Tara sat down, running her hands through her hair in what Willow knew was a nervous habit. "She's a baby, dammit."
"But--if she
were to become the Guardian," Giles began, "she would not face her duties until she had been trained."
"No--I mean, yes. I know that. Even the Anadeis aren't going to send a toddler out to do their business. What I mean is, she can't talk for herself. She doesn't have any voice in this. She gets this job hung around her neck and we can't even ask her how she feels about it." She gave a short, bitter laugh. And then she looked up at the two Slayers, her gaze intent.
"Buffy--would you be the Slayer if you had a choice?" Tara's voice sliced through every periphery, every detour. "Would you, Faith?"
Buffy shifted uncomfortably and looked at her chosen counterpart. Faith's expression, though, was unreadable.
"Tara, I know what you're asking," Buffy started hesitantly. "And I wish I could answer it, I really do. But it's...God, I don't even now how to look at it. I can't imagine
not being the Slayer, but would I have chosen it? I mean, starting with an absolutely blank slate?" She looked helplessly at Tara and then Willow. "If I
weren't the Slayer, would I even know any of you? We moved here because I burned down my last school, for heaven's sake. And Dawn--" She looked anxiously at her sister, who suddenly appeared smaller somehow, and very vulnerable.
Faith doesn't know, remember?"Dawn's life would be almost as different as mine," her best friend finished simply. "And when I think of it like that--"
"It's a no-brainer for me," Faith said abruptly. "If I wasn't the Slayer, I'd be doing God-knows-who back in the South Side. Odds are I'd have dropped out in the eighth grade." She flashed a sudden, wry grin. "Angel made me get my GED."
Everyone looked at her in surprise, a reaction she clearly didn't miss. "For real. Said I couldn't work for him unless I did it. You shoulda seen it...Fred tutored me in math and science, Wes took care of English, and Angel his own historic self covered social studies. I'd come home from patrolling, either totally wiped out or jonesin' to party, and he wouldn't let me until I showed him what I'd learned that day. Talk about your committed faculty...They totally got me through it."
Nice work, Angel..."Anyway, point is, pretty much every good thing I ever got, I got because I was the Slayer. Pretty much every good person, too," she added, looking studiously at nothing.
The Slayers' words were beating against the smooth pane of Willow's mind, cracking and splintering the utter conviction she'd felt as she broke off contact with the Anadeis. It had seemed so clear, less than three hours ago: They would stop this Big Bad, prevent the prophecy from coming true, give Kyra a normal life.
Right...Because that's so clearly what we all want...And there were two innocents yet to be taken. Even if Kyra weren't involved, they would try to stop the unfolding of this story.
But the women who would be left unprotected...What about them?
Another profoundly discomfiting thought occurred to her. "Tara...Suppose we
do keep Kyra from becoming the Guardian. Isn't there a chance she'd resent us for it?"
A survey of facial expressions gave immediate evidence as to who had already considered this option: Dawn, Buffy, and Giles.
"More than she'd resent us for standing back when we could have made her life safer?" Tara asked incredulously.
"I don't know, Baby...I'm not saying we shouldn't try to stop this thing. Of course we should. It's just..." She trailed off, floundering. Speaking was always so much more difficult when she felt that Tara might be using a different dialect.
"You wouldn't necessarily have to tell her," Xander pointed out.
Willow found this option very tempting for about two seconds, and then dismissed it. A glance at Tara told her that her mate was back on her side of the fence--at least on this issue.
"I can't imagine keeping a secret like that," Tara said, shaking her head. "And besides--great secrets of birth and destiny? Kinda have a way of leaking out."
"It's true," Buffy nodded. "One of us would take her out to celebrate her high school graduation and drinks would be involved and disclosures would be made."
"Nice passive voice, Miss Bronte," Dawn snorted, rolling her eyes.
"Why are you getting drunk at our daughter's high school graduation?" Willow demanded. "You're not getting
her drunk, are you?"
"We could buy her one lousy drink, couldn't we?" Faith asked, shooting Buffy a questioning glance. "Like, some frou-frou thing with an umbrella?"
"A daquiri," Buffy promptly suggested. "Celebratory and suggestive of impending adulthood, but without the binge implications of beer or shots."
"And while we're on the subject, what
ever will we wear?" Giles broke in. "Formal wear is so hot in June...Honestly, if we could return to the subject at hand?"
"At hand is our collective mouth," Buffy replied. "Even if you didn't go for full disclosure on philosophical grounds, odds are one of us would blurt it out
or--even worse--she'd find out about it in some random fashion, thereby fucking with her entire sense of self."
"I gotta say--if I found out that
I had been born as part of some big mystical hoo-ha and nobody told me--like, for
years...I would be pretty pissed," Dawn said with studied nonchalance. "Just hypothetically speaking."
Willow remembered the teenager's reaction at finding out
days later that she was the Key.
Pissed? Definitely. Pretty? Not so much.She caught the glance exchanged between sisters. "Yeah. Makes sense," Buffy said, after an awkward moment.
"Oh-kay...And moving right along, acting like nothing weird just happened," Faith began, giving the Summers sisters a bemused glance, "here's a hypothetical situation for you. Red--let's say that when you were a baby, your mom somehow knew that you were gonna pull off some kickin' Wiccan mojo.
And that you were gonna end up hangin' with
this crowd," she added with a
faux-disapproving toss of her head. "She convinces your dad to move away from Sunny D. You never meet the Slayer. You never get mixed up in any of this." She crossed her arms, fixing Willow with a stare. "Are you pissed at her?"
Willow could barely wrap her mind around such a scenario. If she'd never met Buffy...
I might never have met Tara."God...I--I can't imagine it," she finally replied. "What would my life even look like?"
"But are you ticked?" Faith persisted. "Just thinkin' about it?"
"Well...Yeah," she admitted. "Because I love my life. I mean, I could stand a little less carnage and a little more paid vacation, but couldn't we all?" She shook her head. "God, the TF alone seals the deal for me." She caught Tara's quick smile and felt a familiar but always welcome warmth splash over her heart.
"Excuse me? What's a TF?" Xander blinked.
"Tara Factor," Willow replied, feeling the blush steal up over her cheeks. "It's this variable I use to describe Tara's impact on my life or on any given situation." The others stared at her in open bewilderment. "Like, if getting caught in traffic exerts a life quality impact of -5.8, the TF mitigates it; pulls it up to a -2.3. Or...Or, if I'm drinking a double-mocha/mint chip shake, the TF takes that experience from a +4.3 to a +6.7. And yes, I am a love-sick freak of epic proportions but I don't care.
Je ne regrette rien," she added defiantly.
"Truly, there is but one Willow Rosenberg," Buffy marvelled, to general consensus. "Pretenders to the Willow throne, be warned and be gone."
"Lovesick and effin' lucky," she heard Faith mutter.
"So, to get back to your point, Faith...Yeah. I'd be angry." She cast an anxious look at Tara, who was clearly struggling with this.
Willow knew that her mate valued free will above all other human rights and responsibilities except perhaps love--and she would probably argue that that those two, if genuine, need not be in conflict. Certainly her own experience--learning that her father had deceived her mother, manipulated her mind, all in the name of love--had created an even greater antipathy to any interference in any person's journey.
But didn't they also have a duty to protect their child? Keep her safe until she could make this decision for herself? That wasn't an option, though, was it?
I don't suppose they offer delayed admissions..."I think we're forgetting something," Dawn broke in suddenly. "We're assuming that if we don't derail this train, Kyra gets thrown into the fight and she won't have anything to say about it." She glanced around, disbelief in her eyes. "Guys, c'mon--this is Kyra we're talking about! We've seen what she does with strained peas. Do we really see anybody saying jump and her asking how high?"
Willow had a sudden image of Kyra raising a tiny fist to that wretched homophobe, her little brow furrowed, dark eyes flashing. And then that image shifted, fast-forwarded to an adolescent, hands on hips (
Why do I see three piercings in her left ear?), one eyebrow arched, Tara-style, as she asked, "And I'd be doing this--why?"
A fierce, wild pride ripped through her. Their daughter
was strong. She would be such a remarkable woman...
Beside her, Tara gave a tired but genuine chuckle. "That is a most astute point, Ms. Summers," she said appreciatively.
"It's true," Giles replied slowly. "They haven't created some automaton. We've already seen ample evidence of her very distinct personality."
Faith shrugged. "So maybe the kid grows up, learns how to fight at the feet of the master--and her lovable side-kick," she added, with a gracious nod in Buffy's direction. "And then says, 'I think I'll take up flower-arranging instead."
Buffy gave a harrumph and a stationary flounce. "I'll try to keep up, Don Coyote."
"Quixote," came the immediate correction from Willow, Tara, Dawn, Giles, and--Willow smiled to notice--Faith.
"I knew that," Buffy replied unconvincingly. "The point is, Kyra could do a lot worse in the tutorial department. Let's face it--we've got a pretty impressive faculty right here. Faith is her primary teacher and protector, but we're all gonna be here for her."
"Takes a village..." Faith said, hands in her back pocket.
You want to stay so badly..."So if she decides she
does want the Guardian gig, she can decide it for herself and we'll all help out," Dawn concluded. "And if she doesn't, Anya will have her ready to take on Wall Street."
"Take on?" the ex-demon snorted. "She'll own it."
"Maybe that's part of what scares us," Tara said. "The distinct possibility that she
would choose it." She drew a heavy breath and laced her fingers slowly through Willow's once more. "But...that would be her choice."
Willow's heart and mind were whirling, thoughts and fears and hopes tilting like tiles in a kaleidoscope. They had navigated and survived this conversation: What if Kyra
were to become the Guardian? Tara was still frightened--as was she--but they were both less fragmented, reactive.
And the love she felt for these people who loved their daughter...
"We've got a pretty impressive faculty right here..."Buffy had been hurt, she knew, at the revelation that Faith was Kyra's destined protector and mentor. But she had swallowed that, pledged her loyalty and support in whatever capacity she could best serve.
"Kid could do a lot worse..." Indeed she could.
All of this, though, was a far cry from being excited at the prospect of their daughter becoming a warrior, regardless of the cause. And the two innocents...
Xander seemed to be reading from the same page. "But...OK, all of this is good and important and very solidarity-building. Yay, team. But we're still gonna try to stop this guy, right? I mean, the prophecy aside, we're talking about two innocent people, not to mention everyone who loves them. We don't think we should just sit back and watch this play out like a movie of the week, right?" He asked this last part with palpable uncertainty, and Willow could understand why.
Of course they would try to protect these last two people; even more urgently, if that were possible, considering that Dawn and Xander might be targets. And yet...What would it mean if they
did avert the prophecy's fulfillment? What of the women to come? Who would protect
them?
She was snapped back to the moment by Giles' voice. "Your question is a good one, Xander," and Willow realized that it was testimony to the solemnity of the moment that Xander didn't make a bad joke at the pronouncement."I don't see that there's any debate on that point. I, for one, refuse to believe that we best serve the cause of good by watching two good people die."
Tara nodded. "I know people talk about sacrifices to the greater cause, but even if Kyra weren't involved in this, I couldn't sit by and say, 'Well, they had to die. It was all part of the plan.'"
Echoing in the background of this discussion of good and how best to serve it, Willow realized, was the growing fear:
This may all be a moot point."So we fight," Xander nodded. "Now if we only knew who, how, and where."
"Minor details," Buffy said, swiping an exhausted hand across her eyes as she tried to bite stifle a yawn. "But for now, I am well and truly wiped out. Please, someone--get me horizontal."
Willow caught Faith's involuntary gulp.
"You speak, albeit tackily, for all of us," Giles said dryly. "I suggest we retire."
"You--with me," Buffy practically barked to her sister.
"You--with me," Anya echoed to Xander, though with far different implications.
Ew...********
A short time later, as she drifted off to sleep in Tara's warm, strong arms, Willow dreamt of a dark-haired young woman with a long, jagged scar on her right shoulder, who wielded a sword with almost infinite grace and surety, laughing as she did so.
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To Be Continued