Relinquished Symmetry
Disclaimer: Many rich people own BTVS and its characters…I am not one of them.
Rating: R
Author’s Notes: This storyline takes everything up to halfway through New Moon Rising as the gospel. I have made a BIG change that may make some kittens ‘thwack’ me with a shovel…or, more appropriately, a sledgehammer. Also, some of the dynamics of Angel have been altered to suit me. This is an angsty piece.
Addt’l note: A few pieces of dialogue come from the show (This Year’s Girl, NMR, Fear Itself, etc.).
Feedback: Of any sorts…sure. On the board is fine. No posting elsewhere without my consent.
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PART 1
The infrared detector blinked as a visitor walked through the glass-paneled door of the office. A small buzzer informed the proprietor of the business that a visitor had arrived deep within her back office. She scowled at her laptop screen one last time before turning to the front door security monitor and pressing her intercom button. “The door is open. Please come in.”
Xander walked through the door with two vials in his hand and placed them on the dark cherry desk. He pulled the memory card out of his tiny digital camera and placed it beside the glass containers. “We snagged and sliced two new unknowns tonight. I thought you might want slime samples.” He smiled encouragingly as she nodded. “Need anything else boss?”
She declined with a polite shake of her head. He fretted internally...this was quiet even for her. Once upon a time he would have made a joke or consoled her with warm words of comfort. Not anymore.
“Ring me if anything comes up,” he finally said as he held up his cell phone and shook it for emphasis. He left Scarlet Laboratories with his sad eyes deep in a familiar thought. “I miss you, Will,” he whispered as he climbed in his construction truck and drove away.
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“What did you rent this time Xander?” Buffy asked as she pulled two bags of chips from the cabinet. Thursday night was family night-that meant movies and lots of foods not known for their nutritional content.
“I didn’t. We have kung-fu fest on channel 37,” he replied as he grabbed a beer from the fridge. “You want one Oz?”
“No, I’m good,” his black spiky haired friend responded from the sofa.
“I’ll take one,” Dawn ventured, knowing the forthcoming response.
“Dawn!” Buffy yelled. Dawn snickered...Buffy was an easy book to read. Like Green Eggs and Ham easy.
“I’m kidding,” the former key shrugged as her older sister thrust a bowl of popcorn into her lap. “Hey...watch the slayer strength.” Buffy rolled her eyes.
“I honestly don’t see why you don’t just give her an alcoholic beverage,” Anya started. “I mean she is technically older than all of us combined.”
Before Dawn could agree, Buffy cut her off by saying, “My house...my rules.”
The doorbell cut off any further argument. The slayer casually opened the door, but nearly slammed it shut when she comprehended the woman in the doorway.
“Tara?” The name came out half-questioning and half-accusatory.
“Can I come in?” the blonde witch asked calmly. She had had all afternoon of her flight from Seattle to prepare for this meeting. Three years ago she thought she’d never come back to Sunnydale. Seeing Buffy again made an unstoppable flood of memories crash to the forefront of her mind. And these were just the waves caused by a short blonde supergirl she really never got a chance to know. She could only imagine what would happen if she ran into Willow. The woman she had fallen head over heels for …the same woman with whom she had never fallen out of love.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here,” Buffy began before holding her tongue on a slew of bitterness that was prepared to come forth. “But seeing as I owe you a couple for the Faith body switch and the Lowell House, I’ll give you five minutes.”
Tara gulped. The slayer had only taken two seconds to make her feel like that weakling of yore. Her aura was golden and shaped like a proud halo, which was usual, but it was also slightly jagged with little angry flecks of red. Am I causing that? Why does she seem so mad at me?
“Okay,” was her meek one word reply as she stepped through the threshold.
The atmosphere of the room quickly went tense at the notice of her presence. A very uncomfortable silence passed like a funeral procession. Tara reluctantly lowered her defenses and felt the rush of emotions from the room’s inhabitants. She wanted to gauge what she felt was a disturbing undercurrent.
Xander’s aura was naturally jovial, reminding her of party streamers. It tinged a sad, deep blue when he cast his eyes over her. Anya’s visual manifestation was an enthusiastic colorful pulse, which was unfazed by the new arrival. Dawn...something was unusual about Dawn. Her power trace was different, not of demon, human, or slayer lineage. A bright tunneling green light encased her small frame. Anger and distasteful resent swirled like mist through the overpowering color. And Oz. Oh heavenly creature...does that mean Willow’s here too? She took a deep breath. He was difficult to read because of the his carefully self placed inner calm mixed with the natural aggressive hunting instincts of the wolf. She did somehow think he was pleased to see her again. What the Hell is going on here?
Finally, the one person who always spoke her mind broke the silence. “You’re Willow’s witch friend. Have you come back to give her orgasms and make her happy again?”
Tara’s eye bulged. They know about our relationship? Err, former… That wasn’t the kind of question she expected and she had no readied response. “What?” finally stumbled out of her mouth.
“If I was still a vengeance demon I would’ve granted her a wish after what you did. It’s much better to take vengeance than to let your emotions bottle up and make you bitter,” Anya said with a shrug before taking a handful of chips from the bag and crunching merrily.
“What I did?” Tara’s voice echoed curiously. “I left to make it easier on her...so she didn’t have to feel guilty for getting back with Oz.” That was mostly the whole truth.
“She didn’t choose Oz,” Dawn nearly shrieked.
It felt like time stopped a brief moment for Tara. Maybe by some sort of temporal demon who took pleasure in slowing down time to watch human hearts shatter. Dawn’s words filtered through the complex processing centers of her brain. She picked me. She picked me and I ran. Slowly a paint-by-number picture of the biggest mistake of her life filled in. And I hurt her...made her unhappy and bitter. My Willow. My beautiful Willow.
Tara dropped the tome and notepad she had been carrying to the floor with a thud. Her apocalyptic warning no longer seemed that important. She stumbled weakly towards the door and went out to the porch. She took gigantic cold gulps of the fall night air. Staring out at the clear starry sky, she remembered one of her last memories of her love.
Do you really want to Willow? I mean its okay if you want to, you know, wait,” Tara said as they crossed the campus green. She knew this was a huge step for her and didn’t want to pressure her into something she would later regret.
“I want them to know. They’re my friends and I want them to know why I’m so happy. And if they’re not all with the return of the happiness then they were never really my friends anyway.” She stopped and turned to Tara, running her fingers through the ends of the silky blonde tresses. She leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “I mean who wouldn’t want wonderful you for a girlfriend?”
“That’s a lot of w,” Tara responded as her heart jumped erratically and she wore an obviously smitten grin. They walked towards Giles’ place to attend a Scooby meeting. A meeting the blonde had been invited to since she had helped them so much lately. Tara felt wonderful and had finally built up the courage to ask Willow if she wanted to get a cat together. It was sorta a symbol of their togetherness-a little ball of responsibility and commitment...plus she really wanted a cat.
Tara sighed into the darkness. She’d been so happy that day. It seemed like everything fit for once. She was doing well at the university, she had gained a couple of friends through study groups, and, most importantly, she found the very love of her existence. Life was good.
Then Oz walked through Giles’ door and everything fell apart. Falling apart...breaking into pieces-that was what happened in her life. Still, she held a sliver of hope.
She went to see Willow the next morning and came face to face with Oz. It was clear that he had spent the night. Her sliver of hope turned into a jagged piece of glass. It ripped furiously through her veins until all the blood went cold and she was dead inside.
After that, there was only one option left. The only thing she knew to do. Go. Run. She knew how to run. She had learned it long ago and in all sorts of ways.
She packed a trunk, filled it tightly with her magickal supplies and books. Just as she was beginning to pull a suitcase out to pack her clothes she heard a knock at the door. She knew who it was as she could feel the mystical tingle of Willow standing in the hall. She stayed quiet and still. Then she began to hurry...Willow would be back after her class and she wanted to be gone before then.
Buffy reopened the door to find the taller girl white knuckling the wooden moulding of the rails. She was staring hard, almost painfully so, at some empty point in the night. The slayer found she oddly empathized with the girl she recalled being nice but reserved.
She thought she was helping Willow. It’s funny how sometimes you try to save people from heartache only to create more. She fleetingly thought of Angel for a second and internally fretted. She found it hard to stay angry with a woman who was so obviously beating herself up right now. Self-guilt is always the most brutal form of punishment.
“I don’t know if you remember but standing around alone at night in Sunnydale is like on the Surgeon General’s Warning List,” the slayer quipped as she look around for creatures of the night.
“I can handle myself,” Tara said bluntly, not moving a muscle.
“I can tell. You seem stronger...my spider sense is tingling,” she said as she strode to within a couple of feet of her right side.
“I know I have no right to ask but how is she really?” Tara turned to Buffy and pleaded for an answer with her blue eyes.
“I wish I knew,” Buffy replied regretfully, moving to face the Wiccan. “She’s pretty cut off from the world. We’re not close anymore...I work for her but never in direct contact. Xander sees her sometimes when he delivers samples and stuff to her.”
“Samples?” Tara asked curiously.
“She runs an analytic laboratory...she’s heavy with the science and computer work and she hires us out to kill or capture the monster baddies. She has this like huge demonology DNA database she built herself. She’s so good she does like all the forensic work in town…which in Sunnydale is like nothing to shake a wooden stick at. She’s living comfortable. She certainly pays us enough.”
Buffy spoke with a mixture of pride and numbness. Like she had cried quiet tears somewhere far from her loved ones over the loss of her best friend. She did, Tara thought ruefully. She remembered something her momma told her when she was young. Consider your actions for they’re like dropping stones in the fishin’ hole-their effects ripple out farther than your grasp.
She had managed hurt everyone in that room in one way or another. Now duty had brought her back to give what would probably be unnecessary aid. Being a demon hunter was very rewarding-it made her feel useful…needed. Today it felt like a slap in the face.
and 
. I really hope that Willow forgives Tara soon. But, since this is gonna be angsty...I'd guess not. Update soon! i need more!
Thanks for reading.
that whole scene left me feeling sad and icky.... Willow must be soooo lonely.. Its unsettling how, professional she treats Xander and even more unsettling how he just accepts that as the "way it is".... I feel so bad for them... Anyway, I hope things get better soon.. Im curious to know how the meeting at noon is going to go... Tara's got to find a way under Willows tough exterior and help her to find herself again...
Of course, you know that you've now doomed me to never again saying anything perceptive or possibly even relevant (not that that will shut me up
).
-Cameron
