AntigoneUnbound - Thank you for those kind words and insights. I think Faith is my favourite character in this, after
and
of course. Here's the conclusion.
"Coming Home" Part 6
M15 – Low level violence, horror, adult themes, sexual references, occasional coarse language.Xander bustled through the front door of his apartment, his burden bumping the doorframe as he entered. He kicked the door closed with a boot, and none too gently, set the basket down on the table. A soft growl, like slowly tearing canvas, sounded from within.
“Now you just be quiet there, Bubak old buddy, until I figure out what I’m going to do with you,” Xander addressed the basket. Soft footsteps sounded from the bedroom and a moment later Tony emerged, wearing a towel wrapped around his middle. Xander’s young boyfriend’s sandy brown hair was wet, and he looked tired and in need of a square meal.
“Who are you talking to?” the teenager asked. “Hey, nice basket. Laundry?”
“Urm, not exactly, no,” was Xander’s guarded answer. There was a second punctuating growl from within.
“What the -” Tony exclaimed. “What is it?”
“This is one of the – things I told you about.” Xander remained cautious.
“Oh right, a Sunnydale thing?” Xander nodded. “The thing that you won’t share with me, even if it’s all right for the superfriends.” Tony sounded a little miffed as he once again brought up a topic that was the source of some tension in their relationship. The young man folded his arms and looked displeased.
Xander relented. “Okay. Okay.” He stepped forward, embraced the younger man and kissed him. He led him over to the table on which the basket rested. “Take a look. It could be dangerous, so be careful.” Xander had rigged up a catch for the basket using a child safety cupboard lock. He removed this and cautiously lifted the lid.
Tony’s curious blue eyes met those of the seriously peeved Miss Kitty Fantastico. “Rraow,” she pleaded, hoping that Tony would prove kinder than the other human, her kidnapper.
“Aw,” Tony smiled. “Hey, puss.” He stretched out a hand. Miss Kitty made as if to slash with her claws, but then relented and merely sniffed at the back of the offered hand and checked Tony over with her whiskers.
“Don’t get too attached to it,” Xander warned.
“Oh, what?” Tony scoffed. “We had a kitty when I was young. I know what I’m doing.” He put his hands under the cat’s shoulders and lifted her out of the basket. Miss Kitty mewed and snuggled against Tony’s shoulder. The young man brought one of his forearms under the animal to support her hind feet. Miss Kitty managed a brief purr in reply, swivelled her head and sent a baleful glance in Xander’s direction.
“It’s not a cat,” Xander explained. “It’s looks like a cat, but it’s a demon in disguise.”
Tony almost dropped the feline in astonishment. “Oh crap, Xander!” he exclaimed.
“No, it’s true,” Xander said. “This is a demon and it’s trying to hurt one of my friends. I have proof – er, that is, I did have proof but I left it at a nursery forty miles out of town.”
“Hey Xander, whatever you’re on, I’ll have two of those, okay? Demon in disguise,” the athlete addressed the feline, ridicule in his voice. Miss Kitty mewed in response. She was feeling hungry again. “Oh yeah, Buffy left a message on the machine. She wants you to call her.”
“Why didn’t she call me on my…” Xander began, feeling for the cell phone pouch at his hip. “Back in a second.” He dashed out of the apartment.
By the time Xander returned, Tony had taken Miss Kitty Fantastico into the kitchen. The apartment being a bachelor pad and Tony being a serious athlete who had to watch what he ate, there was not a great deal suitable for the cat to eat. Luckily, Tony found a small block of fetta cheese in the fridge, which Miss Kitty was happy to eat, licking pieces of it from the young man’s fingers with her rasp-like tongue. She made happy little sounds in her throat between mouthfuls.
“Christ, I don’t believe this!” Xander said on his return. “It’s not in my car. I’ve lost my damn cell phone.” He reached for the telephone directory and began frantically leafing through it.
“Buffy’s number is on speed dial,” Tony reminded him.
“Yeah, in a second,” Xander said distractedly, “I’ve gotta call the phone company and kill the account.”
Tony shook his head and tickled Miss Kitty under the chin. “Why the mad rush?”
“I might have lost it hours ago,” Xander explained hurriedly, finding the number and picking up the phone. “Someone could be racking up hundreds of dollars in calls to some Moldavian sex line on it.”
“What, you think someone would actually do that?” Tony wondered.
“Well, if I found – um, some sick people might do that, yes. Hello, yes, I’ve lost my cell phone; I want to cancel the account? Harris, Alexander…yes…”
In Willow and Tara’s bedroom, the redhead continued her silent vigil. Tara’s condition was unchanged; she was still deeply and peacefully asleep. Through the curtains, Willow saw the light gradually drain from the dregs of the day, making the single bedside lamp seem to blaze more brightly. Faint clanking sounds came from the kitchen as the Slayers and Dawn feasted. Willow herself did not feel particularly hungry for the moment. Best to wait until Tara wakes up, she thought, and we can eat together. Could be quite late, the way Tara’s sleeping. I’m feeling…sorta…tired myself…her lids momentarily drooped, shading her weary green eyes.
Suddenly, Willow’s eyes flew open. She felt goose bumps on her arms and a tingle at the back of her neck. Cold sweat beaded her forehead. Her heart pounded wildly. Something felt wrong. Gingerly, Willow squeezed the blonde’s hand and shook her. “Tara! Tara wake up!” she hissed, but Tara only groaned in response. Willow looked frantically around the room, but nothing seemed different or out of place. But then she saw it.
There was a spreading pool of blackness on the carpet, darker than the surrounding shadows. As Willow watched, frozen to the spot in horrid fascination, the darkness began to slide towards the bed. It oozed its way up the side of the counterpane and formed a dark circle below Tara’s feet.
“Buffy,” Willow croaked, dry-mouthed. The fuzzy black outline of the Bubak demon started to take shape above the shadow and began to creep up the bed. Towards Tara. Instantaneously, the paralysis that seemed to have gripped Willow lifted. She took a deep breath and lashed at the thing with the baseball bat. Her swing met some resistance, but not much, and Willow frankly doubted that she had hurt it. Though it didn’t come any closer, just for the moment. Willow jabbed at it again with the bat without much result. Goddess, it came up through the floor, Willow thought. Anger flared deep in the redhead’s soul. How dare this thing come after my Tara! “Get away from her, you bastard! Buffy! Faith! Dawn! It’s in here!” she cried, at last finding her voice.
Cutlery clattered downstairs and Willow heard running feet on the stairs. Safe now, she thought. But where’s Miss Kitty when we need her? Willow swatted at the fuzzy black shape again, but it was like trying to hit mist. The next instant the door flew open and the Slayers burst into the room. Faith had her long dagger out, Buffy a stake, while Dawn, at the rear, gripped a kitchen knife.
“Where is it?” Buffy and Faith shouted in unison.
“There, there, it’s on the bed!” Willow screamed, pointing at the dark thing.
“I can’t see anything, Will,” Buffy panted.
“Me neither,” Faith added.
“There!” Willow cried, swiping at it again with the bat. She overbalanced as the swing again met next to no resistance, and she fell forward onto the bed, letting go of Tara’s hand in the process. The instant Willow did so, the Bubak vanished from her sight.
Willow sat up, astonished, but at the same time understanding everything. She scrabbled back up the bed and took Tara’s hand once more. Buffy and Faith were taking tentative stabs at the mattress with their weapons, confusion and doubt clouding their faces. Willow could once more see the Bubak, and it was again on the move, coming for Tara. One time, Buffy’s blade passed clean through it, with no apparent effect. Willow looked hard at Tara. Only Tara can defeat this thing, because it’s only to her that it’s fully real, Willow understood. Why oh why can’t she wake up? For an instant Willow felt anger towards Tara, frustrated that the blonde seemed unable or unwilling to do anything to save herself. But the next second the redhead crushed that emotion.
It’s not her fault; it’s the demon making her this way. She’s still Tara, she’s always been Tara and she can beat this thing on her own, so long as she gets the right kind of help. Help. Willow reached out to Tara with everything she had: her mind, body, heart and soul. Dropping the bat and taking Tara’s hand in both of hers, Willow whispered, “Tara, you have to wake up. You have to do this. We can’t do it for you. Wake up.”
The blonde took a shuddering breath, coughed and opened her eyes. Her blue eyes, unfocused, momentarily showed only sadness and hurt. She blinked and looked directly at her red-haired lover. “Will?” she whispered, half sitting up.
“There!” Willow turned her attention back to the dark shape, snatching up the baseball bat and jabbing at the intruder once again. Downstairs, the telephone began ringing.
“Where, Will; here?” Buffy interrupted, stabbing with her blade. But she might as well have been striking at empty air. “Damn that phone!” the Slayer added, as the ringing went on and on.
Tara looked unsteadily at the black shape as it now rested between her knees, confronting her. Terror and doubt were written all over the blonde’s face. She swallowed nervously, for she knew full well the danger she was in. This thing could make her helpless and kill her, if she failed to stop it. Her fate rested on a knife-edge. At last, the phone downstairs stopped ringing as the answering machine switched itself on.
“Weapon,” Tara managed to whisper. Willow considered giving her bat to Tara, but then Faith pressed her long knife into Tara’s free hand. Willow pressed Tara’s other hand convulsively. For a second Tara hefted the dagger, feeling the weight, then she leaned forward and plunged it into the centre of the Bubak’s darkness. The others in the room only saw the blade drive into the mattress and stick there, but Willow and Tara both saw it strike home; saw the Bubak shudder and go still before it sank down and disappeared for good.
Tara fell back onto the bed and sighed deeply, closing her eyes. Willow sobbed and clung to her, brushing stray strands of hair away from her lover’s face, wanting to see Tara clearly, every detail, looking for a sign that she was all right. And then the blonde’s eyelids fluttered open once more, and to Will’s immense relief those beloved blue eyes were clear and untroubled.
“Goddess,” Tara murmured, “That felt so strange.”
“Tara?” Willow queried.
“It was like a heavy black blanket smothering me, and now it’s been lifted off me. Everything’s different now. Before, the things I thought and said, they had their own meaning. They made sense in a dark and twisted way. I didn’t have the strength to stand up and deny them. But now, it’s like I can think and speak for myself again. Willow, I’m so sorry.” Tara embraced Willow. “I didn’t mean it; I don’t want to die.”
“Oh, Tara,” Willow breathed, returning the embrace. Faith, Buffy and Dawn grinned, laughed with relief and hugged each other.
“Where’s Miss Kitty?” Tara asked suddenly. “She was like a ray of hope in the dark. Where is she now?” There were blank looks all around. “And by Goddess, I’m so hungry.”
Faith gathered up the weapons to put them away. Buffy and Willow helped Tara dress and come downstairs, for she was still weak. Dawn served up two extra large bowls of pasta and sauce for the witches, and then went to check the answering machine. By the time she got back to the kitchen, Tara and Will were seated and enjoying their dinner with obvious relish. Faith and Buffy had poured celebratory glasses of wine and were toasting the happy couple. Dawn cleared her throat awkwardly.
“That was Xander on the phone,” the teen said tentatively. “He says he’s got the Bubak safely stowed at his place and there’s nothing to worry about. He said he’s going to deal with it.”
“What the fuck?” Faith exclaimed, speaking for them all.
“So what now?” Tony asked, still holding the cat, as Xander put down the phone after making his second call.
“We make the demon manifest itself, and then we kill it.”
“O-kay,” the athlete hesitated. “And how do you do that?”
Xander rubbed his chin thoughtfully, looking around the kitchen. He opened drawers and cupboards, then checked in his weapons chest by the front door. He returned to the kitchen, momentarily disappointed. Then his eyes chanced upon the microwave oven. “Aha!” he smiled.
Tony followed Xander’s line of sight. “You are so not serious!” he cried. “There’s a monster in this apartment all right, and it’s not the cat.” Unconsciously, Tony tightened his grip on the animal as if to protect her. Miss Kitty decided enough was enough at that point and wriggled free, leaping lightly onto the floor. She began looking about for stray crumbs of cheese. Xander reached down and picked up the cat, who squirmed unhappily. “Xander, no!” Tony shouted. The telephone rang.
Miss Kitty under one arm, Xander picked up the phone. “Oh hi Buffy,” he said in greeting. “”I’ve caught your demon. What? No, it’s the cat.” Xander pulled the phone away from the side of his head as it erupted against his ear. “Will you stop yelling and listen to me? I’m sure it’s a demon…I had proof. Well, no it didn’t…no, not that either. Oh, I didn’t know about that. Oh…oh…umm…right...tell them not to worry, she’s fine and I’ll be right over. Okay, bye.” He hung up, looked at Miss Kitty and gently put her back in her basket. “Oh, Christ.”
Tony couldn’t help smiling at Xander’s obvious discomfort. “Not a demon, then?” he observed.
“Not this time, no,” Xander admitted. “But I was so sure of it…I better go,” he finished, sealing the basket and heading for the door.
As the apartment door closed behind the retreating Xander, Tony shook his head and said quietly, “And how was your meet, Tony? Oh, you won? And you’ll be competing at the state trials in a month? Well, congratulations. I’m so proud of you. Asshole.” He opened the fridge and defiantly stole one of Xander's beers.
“Oh Christ almighty, I am so dead,” Xander moaned to himself as he got into his car. “Buffy is so going to kill me…”
“I am so going to kill him,” Buffy was saying.
“Me first,” Willow contradicted her.
“Take a fucking number,” Faith added.
“How did he come to such a brilliant discovery anyway?” Dawn asked Buffy.
“He didn’t say,” the Slayer replied.
Tara and Willow looked at each other. Tara lowered her eyes, deep in thought, and turned her attention once more to her meal.
By the time Xander arrived at Buffy’s front door, basket in hand, dinner was over. Five angry women stared at the dark-haired construction worker when the front door opened. Awkwardly, Xander set the basket down and opened it. Miss Kitty leapt out and greeted the two witches, meowing and rubbing against their legs.
“Here she is, safe and sound,” Xander said shamefacedly. “Honestly Buff, Will, I thought -”
“That’s the trouble Xander, you didn’t think,” Buffy attacked.
“I did, I swear,” the young man pleaded. “I thought it was a strange coincidence that the cat would show up just when Tara was in trouble. And there was the entry in the demon database about it taking animal form.”
“Rumour,” Dawn corrected him. The teenager looked at Xander with a terrifyingly cold and contemptuous expression on her face. Tara was silent, still thinking, while Willow was white with barely-suppressed fury.
“And I found something in her fur – a seed from a plant that doesn’t grow in Sunnydale,” Xander pressed on in his own defence. “I thought it had followed Tara and Willow from out East. You told me you did the Route 66 thing when you came home, Will.” He looked to his childhood friend for understanding, if not forgiveness. Willow did not so much as nod. Tara meanwhile stood next to Dawn and held a brief whispered conversation. The blonde witch then slipped out of the room, and a moment later they heard a door open and close.
“So you added one and one and one together and you got twelve,” Buffy said. “Xander, sometimes…”
“What, should I leave the thinking up to you? Do you always have all the answers, Buff? I found this clue, I did the research, I thought I was doing the right thing…”
“You had a seed?” Faith interrupted. “Hold everything! Buffy, can I borrow your turkey baster for a second? This could be my one and only chance!” Buffy scowled at Faith. This was no time for jokes in questionable taste. Just then, Tara reappeared, carrying a large travel-stained canvas duffle bag.
“Here,” the blonde witch said, holding the duffle bag out for everyone to see. “This is what I took on my road trip with Will. It’s covered in burrs and seeds, look at it.” And it was, of all shapes and sizes, as well as a patina of multicoloured dust, the legacy of a long and varied journey. And here and there, if the Scoobies cared to look closely, there were occasional black and white cat hairs.
“Where was this?” Buffy asked.
“In the basement,” Dawn explained triumphantly, “where Miss Kitty went exploring this morning.” Everyone in the room, Xander included, groaned.
“Go home Xander,” Buffy said then. “Come back tomorrow. With ice cream.”
“Triple chocolate,” Dawn specified. “Two, no make it four quarts.”
Xander nodded, deflated and defeated. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and left.
Faith went back to the kitchen and fetched the glasses of wine. She handed one to Buffy and raised the other. “One dead Bubak demon, and Xander Harris sent home in disgrace,” she declaimed. “A double victory.”
“Faith,” Buffy made a sour face, but she drank anyway.
“I’ll go wash up,” Dawn offered.
“Nah, I’ll do it when I come home from patrol,” Faith said, draining her glass. “B, come with me?” the younger Slayer looked openly at her partner, desire written plainly on her face.
“Okay,” Buffy said simply, finishing her wine. The Slayers left the house to perform their nightly duty.
“Then I shall watch TV,” Dawn smiled, flopping onto the couch.
“Rrrr,” agreed Miss Kitty, padding over and leaping on top of the teenager. The cat settled herself into a comfortable ball and wondered how long it would take Dawn to remember to feed her.
Tara and Willow looked at one another. Willow was still pale and tremulous, her lower lip aquiver with rage. The blonde witch took her lover’s hands.
“Willow,” Tara began, “I understand how angry you are. Xander messed up, no two ways about it. You want to hurt him, say so. It’s okay. Let it out.”
“If I start,” Willow managed to say, thin-lipped, “I might not be able to stop.”
“That’s okay too,” Tara reassured Willow, taking the redhead into her arms. “Say what has to be said. We all make mistakes, we put our friends in danger, we scream, we yell, we get over it. Miss Kitty’s back. She’s okay. Goddess knows what Xander was going to do to her; it doesn’t matter. And I’m okay too. I was in a bad place and you reached out, you gave me the strength I needed to pull myself out. Please don’t worry, Willow. Tomorrow’s Sunday Will, we can do anything we want. Let’s go for a picnic, just you and me. You can rest your head in my lap and I’ll push grapes into your mouth one by one.”
“Green ones?” Willow asked.
“Any colour you want. And you can lick the juice off my fingers as many times as you want. But tonight,” Tara continued, too quietly for anyone but Will to hear, “I want you to hold me. It feels like I’ve been away from you for weeks. It’s only been a few days, I know, but that’s how it feels. My skin is hungry for you. My loins ache for you. I want you to touch me. Please, make love to me Willow. Tonight. Now.” Willow smiled and nodded. Tara closed her eyes and kissed Willow, gently at first, but as her soft lips explored Willow’s, the kiss became more urgent, demanding and passionate. Their tongues touched, tantalisingly briefly, then Tara withdrew. “I’m going upstairs now. If you hang around down here too long, you don’t get to undress me.”
Tara stepped over to the couch and regarded Miss Kitty Fantastico for a long moment. “I would really, really like to know where you’ve been, Missy,” the blonde told her. The cat blinked and looked up, but made no sound. Her feline expression said, don’t ask, don’t tell. Tara looked once more at Willow and made for the stairs.
“’Night, Dawn,” Tara called as she ascended.
Willow watched her go. She was still beside herself with rage at the idiotic way Xander had put Tara in unnecessary danger. Her fists clenched and unclenched. She drew deep breaths in and out of her body. She knew that the night would end the way it always should, her naked in Tara’s arms, kissing, sated after many bouts of lovemaking, some languid and slow, some teasing, some ferocious in their urgency. They would lie together, skin to skin, holding one another and whispering about anything and everything until they both fell asleep. But there was something that she absolutely had to do first. Something she didn’t want to do, but needed to do. She took a last deep breath, clenched her fists, looked up and screamed at the top of her lungs.
“As the Goddess is my witness, I will kick Xander Harris up the ass!”
The End of Supplement 1 “Coming Home”
More to come soon-ish.
It is better to be Amber Benson for a day than to live as Joss Whedon for a lifetime.
Edited by: Bagheera at: 10/23/02 10:36:46 pm
Typical Xander move! 
.
)? And 
- she only started to come back to being okay when she guested on Angel, and this is intended to be a continuation of that process. I initially only put her into the story to have that nice scene where she freaked Willow out when she in the house on her own, but she's grown now, into Buffy's lover and she also serves as a court jester as it were. Buffy is the monarch in the Buffyverse, her word is law, and someone with that much power and authority ought to have someone to keep their feet on the ground. No-one does it better than straight-talking, potty-mouthed Faith. 
