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Title: Creation Myth
Author: TuesBlu
Feedback: Please. Yah, I can take it… don’t pummel me too hard. This is my first real attempt at fan fic or writing in general. Please let me know if I should continue or seek an exorcism for whatever entity has taken over my body as of late.
Distribution: Only with permission, thanks.
Spoilers: Willow and Tara meet in Hush just as in BTVS, sticks with the canon up until The I in Team, story changes from there with borrowed and altered scenes and references to the series.
Rating: PG13 – NC17 (maybe)
Pairing: W/T
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original BTVS/Angel characters or references all belong to Mr. Whedon, ME, & others I do not know. I’m just a borrowing them, this original little ditty and any new peoples are mine.
Summary: Willow and Tara meet at a Wiccan meeting. They are involved platonically… until an accidental spell changes everything. Things get complicated from there.
Notes: Thoughts in italics.
Warnings: Be prepared - topical ointment, band-aids, and cold compresses recommended. All to be remedied... eventually.
Chapter One – Dizziness
- March -
She had told her a week ago and Willow didn’t believe her. No I don’t, it’s impossible, isn’t it? But there couldn’t really be any other explanation, could there? Her friend’s face was deadly serious when she told her. And Willow knew the she wasn’t the type of person who would lie or play cruel jokes. Willow balked at her though, the very idea punctuated by hard words. Since then they had been conveniently avoiding each other. Willow needed time to think… it was enough to make anyone’s head spin, especially hers.
It was so much simpler just a few months ago. Well simpler, but not. Still moping about Oz leaving, missing him so much. Gloomy and all alone, Buffy had Riley, Xander and Anya. And little ole me, with no one….
Willow thought to herself as she walked absently down the college corridors heading towards the library. She needed a quiet place to think, her mind was set to percolate.
Boy, oh boy, that was so much simpler! When was that mid-December? We had just met, a bunch of Blessed-Wanna-Be’s, the Gentlemen, and a soda machine. That’s how we met. When we touched hands, I mean wow!
She paused and smiled. That was the good part, well one of the good parts. She pulled out a chair and sat down at one of the side tables by a window making sure to spread out her books, bag, notebooks, and pens over the tabletop. It was a calculated move to commandeer the entire table, so she could be alone. She stared out the window aimlessly leaning an elbow on the table with her chin resting in her palm and holding a pen in her free hand.
Christmas break came and went, then January, just like that. Willow lifted her chin from her palm and vacantly snapped her fingers before resuming the same position.
Well, between Slayerette duties… you know, an earthquake, going to the worse party ever, because… hello, discovering a dead body… then neutered Spike, and Riley’s G. I. Joe Initiative thing. Oh, oh… let’s not forget the whole Ethan turning Giles into a Fyarl demon. Hellmouth basics.
She frowned just then trying to figure things out: categorize, departmentalize, organize. She slumped backward into the uncomfortable wooden chair letting her head fall back so that the crook of her neck rested hard on the stiff chair back. The ceiling seemed to hold a particular fascination at this moment as she focused on a minuscule dot above her.
The synchronicity spell. That was exciting wasn’t it? Floating rose, but what was I thinking? Leading her on a bit maybe, not on purpose. But a rose? Too romantic, couldn’t I have picked some other flower? Maybe I did do it on purpose? What does that mean? The gang’s not really hanging out anymore and me all lonely broody girl. Then I get my very own friend to hang out with. It’s nice and comfortable, chummy. And… and it’s great! Better than great. I have, or had, a new friend, not just any friend, but someone that I could do magick with, a real witch. Someone of my very own, away from the gang.
Willow sighed out loud and slumped further down dropping her arms heavily over the sides of the chair until they hung low to the floor. She pushed her legs far under the table spreading them apart slightly and curling her toes upward.
And, then the infamous day. The Doll’s Eye crystal day, she offered me her heirloom. I was all polite and said ‘no’, we could use it together… well we certainly did. Bronzing it with the gang, lame, everyone brought a date on what was suppose to be a Scooby Corps night. Correction, Xander brought a date, Buffy brought the Initiative. Why didn’t I just go home after the Bronze to my own lonely little life? But I didn’t want to, I wanted to go see her. I never feel lonely when I’m with her, so why am I freaking out now? BECAUSE?
She sat up straight with an intense concentrated look on her face. Moments later her face crumbled and she unceremoniously planted her face into the open book in front of her. The lines of text blurring and blendng into unrecognizable lines and shapes like the thoughts in her own mind.
That night… that night I did take the crystal. Why did we try that spell? Answer, because I suggested it. Well we can definitely say the crystal works… works too well. It should come with a disclaimer. But… but maybe it wasn’t the spell. She wouldn’t lie? I mean she was all helper-girl especially with evil skanky Faith in Buffy. And the Ayala spell. I trusted her to keep me grounded and safe. And she did. Catch a clue brainiac, that’s the day she said she was ‘yours’, the day you purposefully hid her from all your friends.
Turning her head so that her cheek could rest on the book Willow looked out the window again. Irony really is ironic.
Willow once again played back the night in question, she hit the rewind button in her addled mind….
- February (Past) -
The Bronze was a definite bust. It wasn’t too late and she said ‘anytime’. Why the frilly-heck not! Willow strode across campus patting the folded piece of paper in her pocket. So she found herself standing in front of a door knocking.
Please be home, please be home.
Opening the door a blondish blue-eyed woman looked at her surprised. Tara.
“Willow?”
Feeling silly and sheepish Willow babbled. “A funny thing happened with my prior social engagement. Pretty much ended when a friend of mine went off to do something with another crowd she hangs out with. Irony is kind of ironic that way.” She paused hopeful. “Anyway, I know it's late, but I-I thought maybe-- I mean, if you still wanted to . . . do something?”
Tara just beamed at her in a really sweet and kind of goofy way. Then opened the door wide to let her inside and she scooted sideways through the threshold. Tara closed the door.
It was such a great room, Willow could hardly guess it was a dorm room. A single no less. But it was all Tara: the wall hangings, prints, the lush pillows, the throw rug covering the institutional carpet, the covered futon that folded into a sofa, small statues, incense burners, candles, the funky lamps, and the fairy lights strung around the room. Every inch exuded atmosphere and echoed Tara. Willow took a deep breath. Her room always smelled good too, a combination of incense, candles, and Tara. Willow couldn’t distinguish what exactly that was, but it was her. And, admit it or not, Willow felt very safe and comfortable here.
“You smell good, or, er not that you smell bad…. Stop me please.” Willow nervously blathered.
“Thanks, just a little amber oil.” Tara blushed slightly. “So w, w... what do you want to do?”
“Uh, why don’t we try out that Doll’s Eye Crystal?” Willow asked enthusiastically.
“Ok, anything in mind?” Tara queried.
“Well, I’ve been kind of depressed, you know Oz and all.”
“Yeah, Oz, I u-u-understand.” Tara sighed heavily.
“Maybe a little spell to kind to help purge me of my depression. Oh, how about the Eight Points of Inanna? I kind of read a bit about her. She’s kind of a maiden goddess, helper to grief-stricken young women. Well technically ‘widows’, but I think I kind of qualify. I’m sorry, I’m being all selfish again, huh?”
“No, it’s ok. I understand, I want to help. So what do we do?”
“Great!” Willow excitedly wiggled in place causing the other woman to giggle, she loved hearing that laugh. “So here.” She handed Tara a folded piece of paper. Normally Willow would have outlined and color-coordinated everything, but when it came to magick she sometimes threw caution to the wind, besides she was in a hurry. She stopped off briefly at her and Buffy’s room flipped through the borrowed tome courtesy of a very grumpy Giles, made a few notes, and quickly jaunted over to Tara’s.
And the ritual went off perfectly, it was spiraling intense and Willow felt something lift off of her. She and Tara had passed out and in waking she felt stripped and bare, it felt good. Now that was an amazing ritual….
- March (Present) -
Amazing… an amazing mistake! I need to read the ritual text again, the whole thing. Snapped out of reverie Willow hurriedly gathered up her belongings shoving them roughly into her bag with her destination in mind.
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What was I thinking, I shouldn’t have told her, not like that anyway. It’s been one week and nothing, except for avoidance. I blew it, lost my only real friend. I had a true friend for a couple of months. I thought it might be more, that’s my punishment. Who would want me?
Tara sat on her bed close to tears, her eyes drifting over the expanse of her well-ordained room. Despite all the warmth and layers she had blanketed throughout her little den she felt cold and empty, sick and tired.
Get it together, things are very different right now and you have to pull it together. You don’t… do not want to go home, not like this… well you don’t want to go home at all. There’s got to be a way with or without help. I’ll figure this out.
A new determined look crossed her face, before she resolutely crumbled into a teary heap. One last breakdown couldn’t hurt though, she was feeling extra emotional. She cried and sniffled curling into a small ball and cradling a pillow.
It had to be the spell, what else could it be? I should have known better, Mama taught me better than this, but I let myself get carried away… I got distracted by a pair of green eyes. A pair of beautiful emerald eyes, silky auburn hair, lithe figure, amazing intellect, immense magick ability, sweet smile, quirky personality, who am I kidding? What hasn’t she got, oh yeah, the gay thing. She doesn’t have that. I fell for a straight girl. Now more than ever, I need to keep my wits about me. Concentrate, the spell, it’s the only logical explanation.
Tara hugged the pillow tighter and thought back on that night….
- February (Past) -
She was embarrassed and ashamed offering such a precious gift, her grandma’s Doll’s Eye crystal, only to be turned down. But she said they could use it together? Followed up by a rejection to Tara’s offer to try it out that same night, she had other plans, better plans. So Tara scampered off like a little timid mouse.
After this morning she has content to be home with a good book and a warm cup of tea. Qawwali music played in the background one of her more esoteric CDs. She just had a nice long hot shower to wash away the icky feelings of this morning’s brush-off. A dot or two of amber oil on her chest and throat for a little extra self-pampering. Not that anyone would be smelling her there, but it made her feel good. She had dried her hair put on a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt for another night in by herself. Flipping to the dog-eared page in her book she read aimlessly. The words did not soak in, she reread them again and still they could permeate through the russet colored fog in her brain. Normally she was a voracious reader, but since meeting the redhead she’d fallen behind. Her book lay abandoned for spell and occult books that held more interest at the moment if it meant more time with her new friend. And, they were friends, weren’t they… who was she kidding she wanted to be more than friends! Except the girl was straight, she complained often about her ex-boyfriend. What an idiot he was to let her go. That worked out for her though, it meant they spent time together. And they were becoming quite close, but the redhead had other friends as well.
Tara sighed. It was nice having at least one good friend, if that’s all she could be.
- Knock, knock, knock. -
Hmmm? Who? No, it couldn’t be… she’s with her friends, but I don’t really know anyone else?
Opening the door just a little Tara was surprised to find the woman currently occupying her mind standing right in front of her. Tara smiled a little too much, happily surprised to find the cute woman in the flesh nervously babbling and obviously wanting to come in. "Willow?"
After a brief moment at the door and a silly explanation Willow was in her room. Tara chose to not to read too much into any of the redhead's rushed compliments, just being sweet and friendly. Then Willow handed Tara a slip of paper with a spell outlined on it in brief and Tara couldn’t help but giggle at her exuberance. It was a spell to hopefully cure some of Willow’s Oz-induced woes. Oz again. If only Tara could help cure those woes without the magicks.
Tara read over the paper, it looked simple enough, but tiniest of alarms went off in her head as she read it. Something?
“So this is it? It doesn’t look too complicated.” Tara turned the paper over just in case she missed some details. Nope, blank.
“Yup, it’s pretty easy. Not that we’re not skilled mind you! So?” Willow asked with big puppy dog eyes.
“Ok. I have everything we need.”
They sat on the floor cross-legged and opposite each other, hands resting on their knees, palms up with the Doll’s Eye crystal between them. A casting circle was drawn around them and four candles lit East, South, West, and North. Tara held a handful of ritual sand in her right hand, the left was empty but cupped. She was mirrored by the woman before her. Tara watched her partner intently while reaching over and carefully pouring the sand into Willow’s empty hand as the redhead mimicked her exact timing and movements. Then with the sand just handed to each other they begin to draw a mapped out eight point star around the Doll’s Eye crystal while chanting continuously. “Inanna the maiden, bless and cradle. Keep us open, our wishes able.” When the sand star was finished they join hands, still chanting. “Inanna the maiden, bless and cradle. Keep us open, our wishes able.”
Tara felt the room heat up as soon as their hands meet. Their chanting took on a cadence of its own, melding with the music that was still playing in the background. Her eyes dilated, so did Willow’s. They were fixed on each other. Their hands felt fused, hot, and steaming but neither let go. As they chanted in unison the star began to glow and pulse in a primal rhythm that echoed their racing heartbeats. Tara was sweltering, her eyesight went fuzzy. Suddenly the star flashed bright sending a ripple through Tara that filled her, she felt euphoric and then she blacked out. When she awoke she felt flushed, Willow was on top of her. One of the redhead’s legs inadvertently pushed between her own, her thigh intimately molded against her center. Tara guiltily and quickly extracted herself to prevent the awkward moment when Willow would eventually wake up.
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- March (Present) -
Tara flushed at the memory and she gulped. That was definitely the moment. She thought still laying in a fetal position reliving the night in question. The night of conception. She rolled her eyes getting up to go to her fridge for a glass of milk, her first hankering. But, she sat down just as fast grabbing the trash bucket nearby when her stomach became a pendulum and the floor beneath her feet began to oscillate.
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Author's Note: My heart's hammering as I hit the 'submit' button. Here goes nothing....
.love sam xx
about Willow. Yet she hacks the spell and 
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