AS TIME GOES BY
Part 26
Summary: Willow and Tara have a baby and she's destined to be a Guardian of future powerful women and there's a Big Bad taking good souls and it needs two more to complete a prophecy involving Kyra and Faith's supposed to teach and watch over Kyra and she's also crazy about Buffy and I think that about covers it. Oh, and Xander still has cooties.
Pairings: Willow and Tara; Laura Bush and Lynn Cheney.
(Eww....)Disclaimer: I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul. Neither of these constructs, however, includes these characters, which kinda sucks.
Distribution: In 12-packs, with permission.
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Willow took a long drink of her orange juice and cast a surreptitious look around the table. Breakfast that morning was a study in emotions that at first glance seemed mutually exclusive.
Everyone was agitated about the possibility of Kyra becoming the Guardian and facing such danger; they were certainly outraged at the Anadeis' presumption. Yet there was an undeniable sense of pride as well, that she was meant for such powerful good and they would all play some part in shaping her.
Everyone was committed to stopping this Big Bad. Yet there was a palpable helplessness that surpassed anything Willow had experienced in her extended tour of demon-fighting duty.
Tara, Buffy, Anya, Giles, and Willow herself could rest assured that they would not be targets of this creature. And yet the fact that it had gone after Tara after its defeat at the Magic Box suggested that it took considerable offense at that defeat, and that meant that Dawn and Xander were in particular danger. Faith? Willow frowned. Would the Anadeis protect the Protector? Or was that truly within their power and purview?
She also knew that something had to break soon. They were researching every text they could find; contacting every source they had cultivated over seven years. Yet still they knew virtually nothing, and they could scratch the adverb when it came to information on how to defeat the beast.
Meanwhile, the strain was showing on everyone's face. Xander had called off work in order to be with Anya and the others and Buffy had kept Dawn out of school. How long could they maintain that kind of life? Willow knew that everyone secretly longed to be doing...something. But what?
At least she and Tara had one possible course of action. They could try to summon the Anadeis again and try to learn something more.
Better leave room for some crow, she thought with a twinge of anxiety. Would the ancient trio even answer the summons, after the previous night's...rudeness?
She and Tara had discussed it briefly before joining the others that morning. "I think we have to try, Will. As good as it felt to jerk
them around a little, we need to know what they know." Willow had nodded in reluctant agreement.
Drawing another shot of sustenance from Minute Maid, Willow now broached the subject. "So, uh--we need somebody to watch Kyra this morning."
"Taking a break to hit the Sunnydale boutiques?" Xander queried.
Willow gave a mental glance over their wardrobe. "If we were looking for a good time, shopping wouldn't be our first choice. Or our tenth," she added. "We're dialing up the Anadeis again."
"As much as I admired your declaration of independence, I trust you'll exercise somewhat more discretion in this encounter?" Giles asked wryly as he sipped his Earl Grey.
"Discretion is our new middle name," Tara promised solemnly.
"Hey--what
is your middle name?" Dawn broke in suddenly. Willow grinned in spite of her tension as she watched Tara shift uncomfortably in her chair.
"It doesn't matter," she mumbled, in a supreme and willful missing of the issue. "So--can anybody help out?"
Faith and Buffy exchanged a quick look. "B and I gotcha covered," came the easy reply. "I gotta practice up. I mean, if it comes to that," she added hastily.
"And I'll keep an eye on
her," Buffy said around a mouthful of cereal, nodding at Faith. "'Cause this big Protector gig? That also includes diaper duty."
Faith's eyes widened in alarm. "Shit," she swore softly.
"Frequently."
"And we'll forge on across the vast tundra of nothingness that has been our research," Xander offered sardonically.
"I suggest we close the shop," Giles interjected, drawing a profanity from Anya that impressed Willow with its thoroughness and descriptive force.
"The whole day?" she demanded incredulously.
"We need to devote all of our energies to this," Giles replied firmly. "And besides, Anya, it's a Monday."
"Plus, it's the right thing to do," Dawn added helpfully.
"I can see this whole good soul crap is gonna bite me in the ass for a while," the ex-demon said grimly. "OK, fine."
A few minutes later, they were clearing the table. "Shall we leave for the Magic Box in, say, ninety minutes?" Giles asked, peering at his watch.
"Sure," Anya retorted. "We can watch all the patrons stroll by on their way to spending money elsewhere while we look up stuff in books that smell like ancient ear wax."
"You couldn't have just let us die, could you, Will?" Buffy murmured as she gazed at Anya in revulsion. "You had to save us so we could live to hear her say that."
"A little help with the dishes, Saw Boy?" Dawn asked, grabbing the carpenter by the wrist as Giles shook his head and called first dibs on the downstairs shower.
"Baby, we should get started," Willow said, reaching for Tara's hand.
"We'll stay in Kyra's room," Buffy said, glancing at Faith.
The four of them made their way up the stairs.
Sorta like a double date...except one of us doesn't realize it.They all crept quietly into Kyra's room. The tiny creature at the heart of an ancient prophecy slept soundly, her little rump arched slightly as if preparing to moon the universe.
Three things hit Willow in close succession. First was the almost unbearable ache of adoration that flooded her whenever she watched Kyra sleeping. Second was the fact that Faith had chill bumps running up nad down her arms. And third was the fact that Buffy was gazing at Faith as the Dark Slayer gazed at Kyra.
Some day I will find a way to ask you about this."You worried, Will?" Buffy asked, catching her glance.
"Not really. I mean, I'm stressed, but I don't think they're gonna try to take her or anything. We seem to be passing parental muster."
Buffy nodded. "Makes sense. Well, we'll be right here."
"And anything that comes near the kid will be terminated in--whaddya think, B...Four seconds?"
"The first three of which will involve a quip of some kind," Buffy confirmed. "Good luck, you guys."
Within a few minutes, Willow and Tara had reassembled the setting from the day before. Taking a seat, Willow reached across for Tara's hands. "Hope they pick up," she muttered anxiously. Tara's worried gaze matched Willow's sentiments. "Ready, Baby?"
"Let's do this," Tara replied, her jaw set.
Drawing a deep breath as one, they chanted the summoning spell. For several seconds there was no sound at all besides their own breathing and the quiet hiss of the candle. Willow gave serious consideration to adding a plaintive "Please?" but thought it might unbalance the spell. Plus, it sounded desperate.
And then the same faint shimmering presence filled the room. Willow held her breath; she could sense Tara doing the same. After a moment, the eldest voice said with what Willow could have sworn was amusement, "I believe we were...how do you say it now...disconnected yesterday? Probably because you banished us from your presence," she added.
"Yeah, um, about that..."
"It was foolhardy," came a second voice, which Willow recognized as the (relatively) youngest member of the tribe.
"We were rash," Tara said in a quiet, steady voice.
How does she manage to sound humble and proud at the same time?"We were upset to learn that our daughter would face such danger," she continued. "I think you could understand that."
"Your fear is not our concern," came a third voice. "We wish to ensure that the child is raised well, and you dare to banish us."
"You sent her to us in part
because we would feel so strongly about her," Tara replied evenly. "The desire to keep your child safe--there aren't many feelings more powerful than that."
"We do understand," the eldest voice echoed. Willow suddenly had the distinct feeling that grandma sometimes got a little fed up with her daughter and granddaughter. "I would suggest that we discuss what you summoned us to discuss, rather than use our time to volley recriminations back and forth."
"Works for me," Willow said brightly.
Why can't I sound more...majestic?"You have had time to consider what we told you?" This from the middle voice.
"Yeah. We're not exactly thrilled, but we're not completely bat-shit about it."
Very majestic, Rosenberg. Words for an ancient scroll, indeed."'Bat-shit' is, I assume, an undesirable state of mind?" asked the youngest of the trio, without any trace of humor.
"Right," Tara answered, with a reassuring squeeze of Willow's hands. "We're still scared, but it sounds as if you don't want her hurt any more than we do."
"Heavens no, child." The eldest voice sounded almost hurt. "She is special beyond words, as is her destiny."
"Hence our fears," Tara said simply
"Would you rather we not have sent the child to you at all?" the second of the trio queried.
"Of course not! But you had to know that we would love her."
"We depended on it," the eldest voice replied.
"And loving her meant that we wouldn't be thrilled at the thought of her being in danger," Willow continued.
"This child will be better prepared than any of you ever were, and look at your own success," the eldest of the trio countered. "You have persevered through heart and intelligence and love. Look at all who surround this child. Do you really fear that she will possess these qualities to any lesser degree?"
"Of course not," Willow protested. "We just don't want her to have to fight."
"And thus your efforts to stop the creature that now reaps its harvest," the youngest spirit said, with just a faint whiff of derision.
If you took shape, I bet you'd look like Anne Coulter..."Yes," Tara replied, in that same measured tone.
"Does this thing even have a name?" Willow broke in, frustration overtaking her as she thought of their blind efforts to date.
"Some call him Despair," came the eldest voice. "Some call him Truth writ large, so large as to obliterate the ignorance that lets humans move through each day believing that there is a purpose to their lives."
"What do
you call him?" Tara asked.
"We have no need to speak of him, or give him any appellation at all," replied the second voice. "He is a means to our end."
"And we would fight him even if Kyra weren't involved," Tara shot back.
"Of course you would," the eldest spirit acknowledged. "This is what you do. We did not truly expect otherwise."
"And of course you won't help us with
that," Willow said bitterly. "You're more than happy to let innocent people die and let innocent children fight your battles."
"Willow, honey, let's not upset the nice immortal spirits who came to visit," Tara whispered through gritted teeth.
"Words like 'happy' have little relevance to us," the second entity replied. "There is only our purpose."
"Well,
our purpose is to save innocent lives," Willow countered.
"And how do you intend to save these people?" the eldest spirit asked, not unkindly. "It is incorporeal. It cannot be seen or heard. You were there, Willow, when it attacked your friends. But what did you detect? You felt no cold chill, no rustling of mystical leaves. You
know these people. You sensed a change within
them, not the air around them. And when you defeated it--did you see it depart? No. It left, and found you, Tara. And you were also blind to its arrival. As are all it attacks. Child, we do not possess its secrets. We do not know when it will attack, or whom. Would we tell you if we did? I suspect not. But these words are truth."
Dread, cold and implacable, slid into Willow's stomach. If they
were telling the truth...
"I can't accept that," she finally said, hearing the tremor in her own voice.
"Don't accept it," the eldest voice echoed softly. "Fight it. But you will not win."
"So these people are just...lost?" Tara's voice shook with helplessness.
"Yes. They are good people who shouldn't die. And they will. Just as good people die every day."
Willow thought she might weep, that two more souls of such grace and purpose would be stripped from the world and all who loved them.
"But what about the good
they might do?" Tara protested. "These aren't random people. They've already done so much to help others. Who knows what else they might bring about?"
"They have already honored the gift of life more than most," the second voice agreed. "And that will need to suffice."
"But the people left behind?" Willow cried. "They think that their partners and parents
chose to leave them!" Even as she toyed with the idea of explaining it all to those survivors, she dismissed it. Who would believe them? And where would it go from there?
"It is indeed tragic," came the eldest voice. "Some will make peace with it. Some will tell themselves that it was some latent insanity. Perhaps some will even discern a pattern behind so many inexplicable losses, and pursue the truth in their own fashion. But you are correct: It is likely that at least some of those left behind will believe that their love was insufficient to keep the beloved near. And it will grieve them beyond words."
"It's not fair," Willow said, knowing she sounded childish and not caring.
"It certainly is not," the youngest spirit replied. "Existence is a roiling mass of unpredictability and unknowing sacrifice on altars not built by human hands, not made to any deities freely worshipped."
"OK, Mary Sunshine, we get the point," Willow snapped.
"Weep for those lost, child. Grieve. And then serve the good you know." The eldest voice was almost human.
"Easy for you to say," Willow whispered.
"I know."
A long silence stretched out, blanketing the room with implications and questions that had no possible answers.
Finally, Tara's hands squeezed hers once more and she murmured in a soft, steady voice, "So we fight. We quite possibly lose. And Kyra becomes the Guardian."
"A Guardian much beloved, well-trained, strong and wise," the second spirit replied.
"Why can't you wait? Let her choose?" Willow asked desperately.
The eldest voice answered, as if uncertain about the point: "But she
will choose--in her own time."
What?"What?" Tara echoed.
"Of course she will have her choice. It is our belief that she will choose to serve as the Guardian."
Willow and Tara exchanged an incredulous glance. "Oh-kay..." Willow began slowly. "What's the trick?"
"There is no trick, child." The eldest spirit now spoke in a patient voice as if explaining that the sun really doesn't go away at night. "Raise Kyra well. Watch over her. Let her learn from all those who love and surround her. Let Faith act as her Protector and mentor. Allow Buffy--what an unfortunate name!--to work closely with Faith. Those two are linked, I believe. Let Kyra take risks but exercise reasonable caution. Let her become all of the person she can best and most fully become. In other words--be her parents."
Could this really be true?"So you're not going to force her to take this job?" Willow persisted, still afraid to trust this new and wildly welcome piece of information.
"What do you suppose we could do?" the second voice asked. "Throw her bodily into battle? Kyra's powers are meaningless if not freely chosen."
So we finally agree on something..."How will she know she's the Guardian?" Tara asked cautiously. "Not that I'm saying she'll choose this after she finds out."
"Of course not." Again Willow could hear something akin to amusement.
"We will not leave," came the distinctly humorless youngest voice. "We will stay close. We will speak to Kyra and tell her of her role when she is ready to hear."
"But shouldn't we tell her?" Willow interjected. "Shouldn't we be the ones to break the news?"
"The 'news' will only be marginally so," the second spirit replied. "She will have a sense from a very early age that she is different from other girls."
"I can help her with that," Tara muttered, and this did indeed earn a small chuckle.
"You can help her with all of this," the eldest said. "I told you before: we chose you well."
There was another, briefer silence, and then the eldest suggested, "Perhaps it would be well for you to consider what we have told you. Talk to your friends in the next room, who are watching over Kyra so well and so fiercely. And go fight your fight, as you must do."
"We will," Tara replied simply.
"We can contact you again?" Willow asked, still half-afraid to believe what they had just learned.
"Of course. I suspect that you will have other questions for us, to be posed in your profoundly singularly way."
"Um, thank. I guess," she amended.
"We leave," the eldest murmured, and the room was silent again.
Willow stumbled to her feet, pulling Tara into a tight embrace. What were they feeling? Relief, certainly, that Kyra would have a choice, but grief and helplessness as well, at the full realization that they might well be unable to stop all of it from unfolding. They held each other close for several minutes, and then reluctantly pulled apart.
"We should tell them," Tara said, nodding in the direction of Kyra's room. Taking Willow's hand, she led the way.
A few minutes later, the two Slayers had been fully apprised. Like Willow and Tara, they were both relieved and disheartened. "We'll fight however we can," Buffy said quietly. "That's all we can do."
"Well, you definitely got the thumbs-up, Faith," Tara said. "We're supposed to let you work your training magic."
"And Buffy, you're supposed to work with her," Willow couldn't resist adding. "They said you were supposed to help Faith."
"Don't even
think about asking me to make you coffee," Buffy grumbled. "'cuz I don't do that."
"Just fetch me cool drinks when necessary, cabana girl," Faith said arily.
They could hear the others still rustling around downstairs. "Guess they haven't left yet," Willow said, glancing at her watch. "Not to state the obvious or anything..."
"Scooby Standard Time," Buffy replied, rolling her eyes. "Giles is probably ready, but by the time Anya gets done with her hair, and Xander and Dawn are finished swiping at the dishes and splashing water all over the floor--" She broke off suddenly, fear washing across her face.
Willow realized it almost as soon as Buffy did.
"They were alone."
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To Be Continued