Fic: - The Sidestep Chronicle & Second Chronicle

[Forrister]

He's baaaaaaaaaak!

Loved the sheer overwhelming chaos of a bunch of active kittens. I know how much just one can do. (I am now on my third mouse this year - Brandy chewed the wire off the first one so I went wireless, she knocked that on the floor and I stepped on it in the middle of the night, now I have to put no. 3 in a drawer when not using it. . . . sigh.)



As much as I love to dislike Ethan, (him being evil and nasty and all), I can't help having a soft spot for someone who will be nice to a kitten. I suspect Tiger will have a part to play in what is to come.

I'd really like to know where this mayor came from. Is it the same one Willow has been dreaming of? Is it the one Tara killed reborn? Or is it yet another version entirely? And what are his motives? I'm not sure its still 'build Sunnydale, nurture Sunnydale, protect Sunnydale, eat Sunnydale'.

I have 4 days off now (after working 12 days straight) so I'm waiting for the next installment with anticipation.

Forrister.

Cave Felae
Beware of the Kitty.

[Katharyn]

I've been redrafting into the future - 4 or 5 parts - and writing original parts about 20 parts into the future and find I have a problem of pacing. Ethan is symptomatic of that, his plot takes time in part because I have so much to fit in. So when you say 'he's baaaack' it's a worthy point.

We'll lose people for weeks at a time. Doesn't mean they aren't there - just that they aren't impacting other characters at that time.

Hope you can all put up with that.

(Thought you meant "Mouse" as in a little gift!)

Ethan isn't evil. He just has a different perspective to everyone else. OKay... so does the Mayor and the Master. He's evil.

Why is he being nice? Well he'd like to say it's to put him in with the cat god(dess) after previous problems there... but honestly he just wants a pet! Tiger's part in what is to come... not fleshed out yet but you might be right.

This Mayor? Wow, you're asking deep questions. I never considered all of that. I don't think there's any harm in telling you some stuff.

ANY Mayor is the one Willow has dreamed of. The farm dreams were before Anyanka did her stuff for Cordelia. Remember all that changes is that Buffy does not come to Sunnydale. As such the farm dreams of the Mayor are "canon" or at least happened in each reality we are aware of.

As for what version he is... that's something the girls will wonder about so I won't preempt them. (Remember they don't know about him yet... so don't wonder why they don't do something!)

I should be putting the next part up for you later today, so you will get to read it before you go back to work.

Thanks for being here, and maintaining the themed latin.

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Post 1 of 2 for Length.

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle – The Chat (Part 195)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Katharynrosser1@hotmail.co.uk Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Sometimes you just have to talk to each other.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: Okay, a couple have weeks have passed and they have no idea about the Mayor. I hate the idea he has to jump up and start being all evil immediately. In his own way he has to come back from the same place Willow was… at least the dead part. Also this doesn’t preclude him being evil in this time – just that he isn’t being ‘obviously’ evil. All of which has nothing to do with this part, except to explain why the girls aren’t out on a Mayor hunt! Remember they don’t know what happened, you do. And oh no, I don't have any personal baggage or trauma... before anyone wonders...
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

The Chat

By

Katharyn Rosser



“You know,” Willow complained, “this was supposed to be one the perks of lesbianism. I’m almost certain it was in the brochure.”

“As if you had any choice about signing up,” Jenny replied scathingly. “You always told me it a package deal – lesbian or not-lesbian. All or nothing. But even if it was in the brochure you know there’d have been small print to deal with this.”

“Well, if there was then I never noticed it,” Willow replied as they looked around once more to be certain they were alone.

Alone, that was the whole point.

Abandoned by those nearest and dearest to them. By the people who were supposed to help you when times got tough.

“Ah but that’s why it’s small print,” Jenny told her sagely. “But are you telling me this would’ve tipped the balance? If you’d known about this you’d have been in boy-town all this time? I mean it’s not like you really need any more perks is it?”

Willow looked at her, weighing her friend up. It was one of those questions, the answer to which could come back to haunt her. But the answer was obviously ‘No – Tara’s as perky as I need.’

Yeah, she was about as perked up as she was going to get and the last train to boys-town had left a long, long time ago. She’d waved it off and never looked back once. “Okay, maybe you have a point there. But I still wasn’t supposed to have to do this.”

That might do… she hadn’t actually said ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to the questions she’d been asked by her mischievous friend. Just a ‘maybe.’

Now where was her girlfriend when she needed her? “Tara’s the super-responsible mother figure around here,” Willow sighed.

“Excuse me? And what am I?” Jenny asked. “Chopped liver?”

“You know what I mean.” Tara and Rupert had disappeared hunting together.

Willow could count the times just those two had gone out hunting on one hand. Okay, two hands and a foot. But out of about two thousand nights that wasn’t all that many.

So it was funny how it’d happened again this evening. Funny peculiar – definitely not funny ha-ha.

“Alright, assuming for a moment I buy that,” Jenny said. “What are you? I mean if you’re not ‘super-responsible mother figure’?”

Willow thought about that for a moment. What was she to Toni? She just couldn’t see herself as parental and she wasn’t sure Toni did either – it wasn’t how their relationship worked, even if she tried to be as parental as she could. That was why they were having this conversation. The parental thing was big on the agenda tonight. “Big sister,” she decided.

“You’re not big…” Jenny decided. “Not teeny, but not big either.”

“Hey, I have it where it counts,” Willow said, pushing her chest out. There still wasn’t too much there.

“I didn’t mean those,” Jenny chided her.

It was alright for the teacher, having children had given her a… boost.

“Okay,” Willow blushed. “How about older sister?”

“But wise?” Jenny checked.

“Yes, that works. Older, wiser sister. Older sister with wisdom.” Willow liked the sound, and feel of that one. Older sister with wisdom. Not bad. “But not too old. Just ‘older.’ Emphasis on the ‘er’ part.”

“Of course,” Jenny conceded. “And you don’t totally rule out responsibility do you?”

“Wisely responsible older sister,” Willow concluded. No, she couldn’t rule out responsibility. If it hadn’t been for Tara she’d have won Miss Responsible Sunnydale for the last four years straight.

Okay, not straight as such…

Just consecutively.

But her girlfriend had always taken that title, hands down… Hands down in interesting places sometimes.

“There you go,” Jenny said. “Personally I wish it’d been my wisely responsible older sister instead of my Mom that did this for me.”

Now in that Jenny did have a point. The excruciating embarrassment she’d felt sat in fluffy pink slippers and a Care-Bears night shirt in front of her own Mom and the horrifying detail had poured out… Horrifying because it’d been her Mom, not because of what’d been said.

“Okay, true. If I’d had a sister I’d probably have preferred it too. But let’s not be forgetting the lesbianism. The lesbianism’s the important part of my objections,” Willow reminded her.

Jenny gave her a look, one that said ‘go on, tell me why.’

Why then? Because… “I’m a lesbian. I’m out. I’m proud. I’m out and proud. At the same time.” The ‘same time’ part was very important.

“And?” Jenny asked, obviously not buying into the whole ‘lesbianism as a get out clause’ thing when it should’ve been really obvious to her. Jenny should’ve just volunteered to do this alone by now. Jenny was a professional after all.

There’d be moral support if the teacher did that. Moral support from… somewhere that was elsewhere. But Willow knew she’d definitely be thinking about Jenny, the circumstances and… how glad she was not to be in the room.

If Jenny would do it instead, which was still looking unlikely.

“And…” Willow struggled for something else to add. And what? “And I’ve got a rainbow flag… somewhere. I am of the lesbians. A lesbian I am. Gay and happy,” Willow protested.

“You have a girlfriend,” Jenny reminded her gently. “Don’t forget the girlfriend – that’s a big part of it.”

“Yeah, that too! I’m a dyke with girlfriend! I shouldn’t have to do this!” Willow protested, more at both of their absent partners than Jenny. Trouble was Jenny was the only one here to listen to her protests.

Willow didn’t imagine her friend was totally comfortable with all this either, professional or not.

“There was that brief flirtation with U-Hauls too…” she was reminded by her friend, ever helpful. Who were they making this case for? To throw back at Rupert and Tara later? Probably.

“There you go! Does it get any more obvious?” Willow demanded. “I have hired a U-Haul. To move our big-gay furniture. I hired it with my girlfriend, who is also a lesbian.”

And very absent right now.

“All great evidence of your liking for the girls – or at least for your girl. But what’s your point?” Jenny checked.

“Tara should be the one doing this!”

Maybe not Rupert, but definitely Tara.

Wasn’t it obvious?

----------

It was times like this that Jenny loved Willow the most. Willow was one of the brightest people she’d ever met, and that included Rupert. Willow was capable of so many things including, she frequently proved, creating her own brand of logic.

It was one of the most uniquely Willow things about her.

Tara might know of some other quirks, traits or oddities though.

But Willow-logic... If someone could condense Willow-logic into ones and zeros and put it in a computer…

Well, it’d either be the start of a brave new world, or a big-gay-computer that was less able to make itself understood when it was under pressure. Either way Jenny wasn’t sure that Willow-logic wasn’t really just… Willow. And that was something you probably couldn’t turn into ones and zeros.

She had to chuckle when Willow suggested Tara should be here to do this – not that she really disagreed. She’d have preferred it that way too. “Yeah, the woman who – as you said – also happened to have hired the U-Haul with you. The other lesbian in your life? She should be here because the lesbian brochure said you guys don’t have to?”

“Oh what does any of that really prove?” Willow demanded with a wry smile after using the very stereotype to make her own argument.

Jenny nodded sympathetically. The U-Haul hadn’t even been for anything stereotypical like moving in with each other at the drop of a hat… or more intimate items of clothing. It’d been strictly in the course of moving furniture around town when the aging Rupert-wagon wasn’t big enough to do the job.

They’d had to set the apartment up for Toni somehow. So okay, the U-Haul didn’t prove a thing. Besides, hadn’t Tara actually done the renting?

“You’ll probably have noticed Tara’s also gay?” Jenny reminded her. “By your own argument…” She let the words hang.

“I had noticed,” Willow played along gamely enough, “but she’s Tara. That makes it different. She always takes my problems away – it’s what she’s so good at.”

That was what it was all about sometimes – taking each other’s problems away. Or at least making them easier to bear.

And, in Rupert’s case, sometimes it was about turning her into something with the size and gracefulness of the side of a barn.

Twice.

And in part because of that responsibility he had, she firmly intended that he’d be here when this had to be done for Faith. He’d gotten her pregnant, and now he was going to have the full on parenting experience. Every last bit of it. All she’d done was stop taking the birth-control.

“Is that all Tara’s good at?” she asked.

Willow did blush, but somehow refrained from giving a more comprehensive answer than that.

“Okay,” Jenny said, thinking of further counter-arguments. “How about the fact Tara’s been out for much longer than you.” Since Willow was trying to base the case that Tara should be doing this instead on the fact she, Willow, was gay…

The flaw in that was obvious, now if she could just get Willow to admit it.

Naturally she’d eventually have liked to conclude it was English’s fault – but somehow she didn’t think Willow was ready to look beyond Tara.

Beside, the very idea of Rupert attempting this made her break out in a cold sweat. It would’ve been funny if it hadn’t been so scary.

“But not actively,” Willow countered about Tara’s outness.

“So she should be doing this?” Jenny asked.

“Hell yes,” Willow stated firmly and calmly.

“Could it be you resent her escape with Rupert at this moment in time?” Jenny wondered, giving voice to her own feelings on the matter. Maybe they could’ve drawn straws or something?

“Again I find that I have to say… Now let me see… Oh that’s it… ‘Hell yes.’”

Mmmn. Perhaps this was an opportunity to play with her friend’s insecurities, if only to make it all a little more light-hearted. “You know, personally I think this’d work better one to one…” Jenny suggested. “Then it doesn’t seem like were ganging up on her.”

“Absolutely,” Willow said amiably. “I couldn’t agree with you more. And in the absence of the one person who should be doing it, I think you should do it. You have more – umm – practical experience anyway.” By the end it almost sounded more like a plea, rather than simply playing along with the teasing.

But she knew Willow had long ago learned to play the game. More assured now than the girl Jenny had first known – and more able to hold her own in their conversations than the woman who’d come back to Sunnydale with her girlfriend four or five years ago.

How much was Willow playing to the image they all had of her? There was no doubt Willow could do this, even if she’d have preferred not to.

Whereas English… She actually shuddered when she thought about it.

“Oh no,” Jenny replied, deciding that if this wasn’t the best solution – then it definitely wasn’t the worst. Anything where her husband wasn’t in this position was very far from being the worst. “We’re together forever sweetie.”

She linked her arm through Willow’s and then turned to her. “And stop making me sound old. Because that’s one game you really don’t want to play with me.” Talk about the amount of experience she had would she?

“I wasn’t saying you were old!” Willow told her, firmly but her tone suggested she was apologetic too, just in case.

Oh yes, Willow understood the consequences.

“Then I don’t think I like what else you’re implying,” Jenny teased, realising Willow’s emphasis had been on the ‘practical’ part of her statement.

“Oh no! I didn’t mean that either! I mean… unless you were…” Willow looked troubled, as if she’d just thought of something she really didn’t want to be thinking about. “You weren’t were you?”

What had Willow been about to say? Jenny got the idea though.

“I was no shrinking violet,” she told Willow, not intending to let that particular cat out of the bag. “But no, I wasn’t one of those either.”

They seemed to be avoiding the ‘vulgar’ terms for what she’d jokingly accused Willow of suggesting she’d been. “And it’s not like you don’t have any ‘practical experience’ with the subject yourself.”

Willow looked at her curiously. “Says who?”

That nonplussed Jenny. Willow wasn’t fooling.

She could see that her statement had struck… not a nerve, but it’d totally surprised Willow. So was she wrong about it? She’d always assumed… Everyone had assumed… “Well… I assumed you know…”

“What?”

“You and Xander…”

“Jenny! I was fifteen!” Willow gasped, clearly shocked. Genuinely so, this wasn’t just their friendly back and forth, Willow was actually surprised at her.

“And so is Toni…” Jenny said, wondering whether she was bringing up something she really didn’t want to. Not that they actually avoided the subject. But it wasn’t like they returned to it very often either. The whole thing where Willow died… worse than died.

“Nooo…” Willow said slowly. “He was too dumb – dumb in the good way – to realise I thought about him as anything as a friend. Not till it was way too late anyway. Besides, back then I wasn’t thinking about anything more than... well, I wasn’t thinking about much. Barely even a kiss. Trust me on that.”

And there it was. There was why she wouldn’t have chosen to raise this subject deliberately.

Willow’s first crush on her then best friend. A boy who’d been, as Willow said, a good kind of dumb. Class clown in many ways.

Killed at the same time as her by vampires. Returned to life with her at the same time. Still together – as they had been since kindergarten. They’d terrorised Sunnydale and each been one of Rupert’s prime targets at the same time too.

Not that they’d really been able to do anything about either of them until that Slayer came to town… She’d lasted only a few hours before the Master had killed her in the middle of a stupidly reckless attack.

Buffy Summers.

Jenny didn’t even know where she was buried… No one had found a body – the Master had retained control after the attack.

Poor thing.

And Willow… There had been another of her friend’s three deaths right there. Daniel had killed her. Oz… now lost to them too. Willow had her revenge later on.

Back from the dead once again. And not in this good way. But just her – not Xander. Separated at last.

She’d always assumed that if they – Willow and Xander – hadn’t done anything when they’d just been kids then… during those days – the dead times – they must have…

But obviously not. Willow, probably wrongly, made little distinction between what she remembered as a human and as a vampire. It was all part of her life – or unlife – experience. She remembered it all in excruciating detail..

So they really hadn’t then…? So much for the practical experience argument, she had that won hands down. At least in the hetero sense.

“That’s not what I meant… or when I meant.” Jenny gave Willow a significant look, knowing she was going to look back on this moment and just die with embarrassment for even raising it.

She was already part way there – it never felt very good when you reminded Willow of those days. They all understood just how much she remembered – and that was everything.

But she didn’t want Willow to think it was about when they had been kids, the same age as Toni was now. She had meant later.

“You think about things too much,” Willow accused, but at least she didn’t seem offended by the turn in the conversation.

“I think about things too much?” Jenny asked, making it into a double-take. “Pot. Kettle. Black. That’s all I have to say about that little accusation Miss Rosenberg.”

Willow gave her a mock grimace; obviously she knew it was true. Willow was the all-time state, and probably national, champion at thinking about things too much if she was given the opportunity to do so.

“But,” Jenny continued. “I’m sorry…” And she was. She hadn’t wanted to bring things up that related to either the vampire Willow had been, or Xander Harris. “I just assumed the way you were…err how to put this…together. Afterwards.”

“Ewww,” Willow shuddered and then drew a breath. “My… the vampire me I mean…” She paused, thought about it a little more. “The games she played with Xander, that Xander… after, you know…”

“Leave it,” Jenny offered. “You said it didn’t happen – that’s all that’s relevant here.”

“No, I should be able to talk about it. It’s a part of me…” Willow paused again. Another deep breath. “We ‘played’ together – but not like you meant. The thing for… her, and him, was the helplessness of the victim – the fear. The chase too. What a vampire regards as sexual pleasure – isn’t really anything that any living person would.”

“I think I wish I hadn’t mentioned it,” Jenny said, as she pulled Willow into a quick hug.

“I wish you hadn’t mentioned it too,” Willow said and gave her a comforting peck on the cheek. “But it doesn’t matter.”

“On the plus side you seem ready to talk to Toni now,” Jenny beamed, hoping to change the subject as quickly and painlessly as she could. After plumbing the depths of undeath and the games vampires played, the main event here today should be pretty simple. What fear did a teenager hold for them after all that?

Plenty…

“Probably,” Willow admitted to her. “Because it must be easier than talking to you oh-friend-of-mine.”

“I’ll do it,” Jenny offered. “If you want me to.” She’d always been willing to do it if Willow really didn’t want to, but now she was feeling guilty too… it only seemed fair to make the offer.

Now it’d be a relief if Willow would agree – just so she could feel to have made up for that little conversation that shouldn’t have happened. There were very few things she ever regretted saying – she wasn’t a big believer in regrets – but that was one of them.

“And get teased for years because of it?” Willow asked.

“Willow, I’ll do it,” Jenny said. “Really. It’ll be good practice for Faith.” When Rupert would be with her. No way, no how he was getting away from that one. He could have a decade or so to prepare himself.

“What about Ben?” Willow wondered.

“That’s Rupert’s territory – no worming his way out of that one either,” Jenny said firmly. She definitely wasn’t being left holding the baby on that. Proverbially speaking of course. There were some things a man just had to do – and she’d decided that speaking to his son was one of them – as well as helping out with Faith.

“Well, what about if Rupert does Ben and we leave Faith for Tara?” Willow suggested slyly. “Since they left us all alone here?”

That had possibilities. Okay, so she’d have to let English off with Faith, but it had the appeal of getting back at Tara. Delayed revenge was still revenge – and all the sweeter for it. “Sounds great to me, Aunt Tara can do it.” There was definitely a certain appeal to it.

Besides… “Then, at least, my daughter will pay attention – at least on current form more than she would to me or you.”

Willow smiled and then looked back to her. “I’m curious about something.”

“Shoot,” Jenny replied.

“What would you do if Faith told you she was gay?” Willow asked.

Jenny blinked.

It really wasn’t something she’d ever thought about in the same way she’d never worried about what made strawberries red or the sun rise in the morning? What did it matter as long as the sun came up and the strawberries were still red?

“Hmm,” she mused coming to a snap judgement that fitted the circumstances. “Then you two get to do all the talks. Because there’s no denying your practical experience in that case, hmm?”

“Sounds fair,” Willow agreed. “If it happened that way we’d take her to all the best bars. Find her some very nice girls.”

“Only the kind you’d want to bring home to Mom and Dad please,” Jenny suggested.

Willow smiled. “Quite what Mom would accept and what Dad would accept might be a little different.”

“You’d think,” Jenny said. “But when it comes right down to it as long as she’s happy, you know? Now shall we?” she asked, gesturing to the bedroom door.

“Yeah, let’s show our partners how it’s done,” Willow agreed, finding some new resolve from somewhere within her.

“To show them they’d have to be here,” Jenny pointed out. “And actually, I was also thinking this was for Toni and I wasn’t going to, you know, show her anything… But you go right ahead if you think any kind of demonstrations required.”

Willow slapped her arm, hard but she went right ahead. “Besides, my stretch marks prove that Rupert understands. And she’s seen those.”

“We need to be serious about this,” Willow said firmly. “This is like public speaking – very serious stuff.”

“And just to one person,” Jenny mocked in a tone that suggested she actually agreed. She knew what public speaking, or speeches in general, meant to Willow – it was one of those things that tended to lead to her thinking too much.

Thinking and worrying.

Then babble.

They didn’t want babble in here, not now. Not even in sign.

How could a woman who could deliver presentations on dry, academic subjects to a hall full of people have a fear of public speaking to fewer people than that? Perhaps it was something to do with the confidence – or lack thereof – when she didn’t know as much about the subject.

Or perhaps it was just Willow being Willow.

“Serious,” Willow insisted.

“And resolved?” Jenny checked.

“See my face?” Willow asked as she pointed to it.

Oh yes, that was resolve-face alright. “I’m wondering about the main message, we should be able to summarise this quickly,” Jenny said.

“Oh? What were you thinking?”

“How about something along the lines of ‘Toni, don’t ever do this’?” Jenny suggested.

Willow considered for all of two seconds. “Yeah, that works for me.”

“But maybe it’s not very practical,” Jenny admitted. “When did we ever get very far telling her what to do?”

“Or, more to the point, what not to do?” Willow corrected.

Jenny looked at her friend, trying to judge the seriousness of the problem. “Still having problems?” Was Willow admitting she and Tara were having a hard time with the girl? If so they really should’ve said something then they could’ve helped out a little more.

“No… not so much. She and Tara… I guess they remain at a vigilant, even affectionate peace – even if they’ll probably never be best friends,” Willow sighed.

“It’s not been very long yet – not really,” Jenny said. “And you can understand it, what with her Dad and all,” Jenny said. At least she could.

“Oh yes, I don’t want to make it out to be more than it is. It’s just… well; she comes to stay with you as something out of the ordinary. It’s Tara who’s left trying to be the main parental figure, the symbol of authority,” Willow explained.

She seemed embarrassed not to be able to take some of that burden but that’s who she was. “I know I was never best friends with my Mom. Not that Tara’s her Mom but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t either,” Jenny admitted. “Most daughters aren’t – at least not until they get a little older than she is right now.”

“And that kind of makes it harder on Tara, because I think that’s how she was with her Mom.” Willow thought about it for a second and then continued. “They were best friends. Now Tara finds Toni’s not ready for that and it’s not like she can get over the ‘I must be the responsible parent’ thing to be a best-friend either.”

Jenny hadn’t thought about that before. What must it be like to have only one model for how a mother should be with a ‘daughter’ and then to find that your ‘daughter’ wasn’t the same person as you’d been?

Worse that you weren’t the same as your Mom had been?

Okay, Toni wasn’t their daughter but the point still stood. Tara – when she’d known her Mom – had been affected by the whole situation at home and the belief in her impending possession by demons.

Then she’d come away and blossomed as the strongest person Jenny knew. Not to mention being in love with Willow.

Of course Tara wasn’t like her Mom. Of course Toni wasn’t like she’d been back then. If anything Toni was more like the Tara of today… and that was why they probably clashed as much as they did.

They were kind of alike.

They’d both lost, they’d both found strength through it. And they were both incredibly determined.

“And Tara’s the one who’s trying to step into Toni’s Dads shoes,” Jenny added. “In Toni’s eyes anyway.”

“That’s just it… no one can do that for Toni. Not me, not you. No one. And even though they’re past the rough start they had together – and Tara’s really trying not to be like her Dad… it’s just the way they both are. And Tara’s right – someone does have to try to be that person.”

“Toni needs it,” Jenny agreed.

Willow nodded. “And then they rub each other the wrong way somehow.”

“Whereas Tara rubs you the right way?” Jenny asked with a smile. All she got in response was Willow’s tongue stuck out at her. “Put that away Willow, I know exactly where it’s been.”

Willow rolled her eyes, trying to avoid laughing. “Oh come on – let’s get this done, before Mal comes round and we have an audience.”

“Okay,” Jenny agreed. “What was that line?”

Willow made a play of trying to remember what it was. “I think we can simplify it. Let’s try, ‘Toni, don’t ever have sex.’”

“That’s the one,” Jenny agreed. It had a nice ring to it – and the virtue of being simple. Easy to remember too. She practiced signing it a couple of times until Willow slapped her hand with a laugh, especially when the signing for the final word became a little… unorthodox.

The one flaw she could see was that it was a little hypocritical. Just a touch. She and Rupert had kids, and she knew she’d broadly – and not so broadly – hinted there was such a thing as a sex life after birth.

She knew she had because Toni had mocked the way Rupert had rubbed his glasses at the very suggestion – just like the rest of them did – it was becoming its very own sign in all of their vocabularies. Toni fitted in well with them all, Tara included.

But when you came to hypocrisy there was also Willow and Tara… Toni had used the words, in her presence, ‘monogamously promiscuous’ about the two of them. Once she’d stopped spelling the words out Jenny hadn’t been able to stop laughing.

They might be two contradictory words, but put together they did kind of describe Tara and Willow pretty well. She’d thought she and Rupert had enjoyed an active sex life until she’d met the two girls… Not that she felt like a nun now.

Tara and Willow had just blushed when they’d found out what Toni had said about them. It was a phrase Jenny still liked to use around them – just to get a reaction. And it always did.

It was one thing they were guilty of – they indulged themselves when they could. And why not?

“Let’s get real for a moment,” she said about Willow’s suggestion. “That’s not going to work – and hardly the example we’re setting either.”

“She’s not us,” Willow pointed out. “But you might be right.”

“How about ‘Toni never have sex – until you’re twenty-five or so’?” Jenny suggested.

Willow thought about that, then nodded slowly. “Good… Yes, that’s very good. I like it.”

“Maybe twenty-seven?” Jenny wondered.

“Oh come on, now you’re just being silly,” Willow accused and they stepped towards Toni’s door.

-------------

Continued in next post

[Katharyn]

Post 2 of 2 for length


Toni looked up as she noticed Jenny and Willow entering her room at the same time. Something was going on. Both of them together? And coming to her, rather than one coming to get her and bring her to them?

And now they were ‘arranging themselves’ to be non-confrontational. Feigning being relaxed when they really weren’t. All sorts of little visual cues that just weren’t saying what they had to say.

Then there were the expressions.

Oh yeah, something was definitely going on.

They were speaking to each other, without sign, trying to decide something before they could start – at least she guessed so from their mannerisms. Was it who would speak and who was here for moral support?

So what was it? Why would they need to worry about that? What could they need moral support for? Was she that difficult to deal with?

Sometimes… if she was honest.

Okay, there was the perpetual fear that the police or courts had found her Mom and they were going to send her away now…

Toni had always imagined that news would come from Tara. The one she assumed would be more relieved by it. The one who’d find it easier to tell her, and who’d want to get back to her own life – sans-Toni.

Never mind what Toni herself wanted. Never mind what the deaf girl couldn’t hear while they decided who’d tell her whatever it was. She stamped, demanding not attention but instead that they have the courtesy to sign when she was right there. Blushing, both of them started out with ‘sorry’ and then went right back to bickering with each other.

This time she got to read it though.

“You’re the teacher.”

“I take lab and computer science – you know what I teach.”

“Well, it’s closer to being a professional than I am!”

“Where’s Tara when you need her?”

“I thought we talked about that already?”

“We did, we decided it’d be you.”

“I don’t remember it that way. You know, we could wait for Tara.”

They paused, looked at Toni looking at them.

*What?* she demanded. This was getting stupid. No, not getting. It was already there. Stupid was already a part of this thing. Now what did they want with her?

Two more big intakes of breath, even though they were going to sign. Two more slightly uncertain looks at each other. Not nervous – just uncertain now. She figured if this had been about her Mom then they’d be doing… well, this.

They just had to come out with it and get it done with.

Was it really that bad? How hard could it be to just come out with it?

She’d imagined the conversation and how it’d go many times – usually with her mouthing off at the end of it all, which would be about all the rebellion she’d get away with because it wouldn’t change a thing.

It’d go something along the lines of… ‘Toni, the police have found your Mom. Once we go to court one more time, you can push off and live with the bitch that rejected you, then ran out on you and your Dad. You know the one; you don’t even remember her and never get a call or a letter.’

There, it was easy. All they had to do was say it – maybe think of some less harsh words than she’d use but basically that was it.

And the worst thing was she’d have to thank them for it. Truly, she would.

They’d been total strangers who’d saved her life, cared more about her in a few months than her own Mom had in 15 years. They’d given her a great birthday, spent a lot of money on looking after her without getting much back from the State. She knew that…

They’d always been real nice. Fair too.

Yeah, she’d have to thank them. Especially Tara.

Most especially Tara.

She knew she’d been a bitch to the more serious of the young women she lived with. They just… she sometimes hated how Willow’s partner tried to be the one who was in control here. The boss of her.

She could take it from Jenny and Rupert – they were teachers and they felt like… they felt right in that role. Like real adults. Older. But Tara – something in her instinctively rebelled against being told what to do by that woman.

That wasn’t fair on Tara, and Toni knew it. It wasn’t fair because Tara was just trying her best – trying her best so the girl who’d all too often being a bitch to her didn’t have to go into care.

Toni knew it – she recognised it. But she just couldn’t stop herself anyway. At least not when they were fighting. It happened sometimes, less than it used to though. Really it’d been ages since they had… but it was still there.

But was that what this visit from Willow and Jenny was about? Had they found her Mom? Surely Rupert and Tara would’ve been here too? Especially when it seemed like the two of them had made a getaway to avoid this conversation.

Was it even a conversation? Or were they just gonna sign at her?

“You know,” Willow started; fidgeting so much her signing wasn’t so easy to understand without getting distracted by the extraneous movement. “We’ve noticed – ”

“That’s… ‘We’ being all of us,” Jenny interjected.

“Thanks,” Willow said and carried on. “We’ve all noticed how…” A pause there, was she still thinking of what to say? Or just how to say it?

“Close,” Jenny suggested the word.

“Yeah, we’ve noticed how close you and…”

As soon as Willow paused Toni’s eyes flicked to the older woman, expecting the next word to come from her. “Mal,” Jenny offered this time, not disappointing.

“We’ve noticed how close you and Mal have become,” Willow said in a rush. Possibly one of her fastest set of words in sign ever, and nearly flawless for all it was fast.

So this was it huh?

Obviously she was relieved it wasn’t about her Mom, but… she’d think about that relief later. Now she had an all new sense of dread about where this could be going.

“And we thought,” Jenny prompted quickly, trying to keep up the momentum.

“We all thought,” Willow stressed the ‘all’, despite the fact they’d already made that clear.

“Tara and Rupert too,” Jenny reassured her.

“We all thought,” Willow repeated, pausing as if waiting for Jenny to add something which never came and then carried on herself. “Maybe we should have a chat with you about it.”

Toni sat there, looking up at them. What did they want her to say? There was no way she was going to help them.

After all this could very well be The Chat? Or had she mistaken their intention? Perhaps this could still just be a chat? Despite the subject. Not THE Chat?

But if that were so, why were they so nervous?

She didn’t ask what kind of chat it was going to be. She really didn’t think she wanted any part of it, other than what she had to. Let them stand there, feel awkward and sign at her if they wanted. She could just nod at the right times. That’d work…

Without encouragement this might end sooner.

Unless they invited her to ‘share her feelings’ or something equally screwed up…

Right now the earth swallowing her up would’ve been better than the ‘The Chat.’ Though it still ranked above being sent to live with her Mom. Wherever that bitch was.

Looking at the pair of them she could imagine they were thinking exactly the same, they’d trade being swallowed by the earth too. Especially Willow.

Funny, if this was what she was afraid it was… Well, she’d have expected it to be Tara, maybe Tara and Jenny. Or even Tara and Willow.

Definitely Tara though.

Perhaps not Tara and Rupert. That’d be a bigger recipe for disaster than the one that was currently unfolding before her.

Nothing she could do though – other than act like that bitch she could sometimes be and shove past them. No way out and she didn’t want to do it to them anyway, this was obviously going to be hard enough.

On all of them.

The ‘keep your fingers still and see if it goes away’ strategy was the best she could come up with at the moment. No way in the world she was going to ask questions, even if they encouraged her to.

There’d be no prolonging this.

They were looking at her as she looked back at them, but while she was still just hoping they’d stop, they seemed to be hoping she’d give them some sign – some encouragement to continue. And until she did they were just going to stand there…

Okay… least-worst way past that?

She was supposed to acknowledge the need for ‘The Chat’ – and then she was supposed to be pleased with having it? Was that it?

‘Yes, please humiliate me.’ Was that what they really wanted?

Part of her rebelled against making it easier for them – but then she realised it’d be easier for her too. Quicker as well. She nodded and that was all. It wasn’t admitting to anything she wouldn’t want to. As they’d said she and Mal were… close. It was a good word.

The nod seemed to be all they needed, but she’d definitely meant it as a ‘proceed if you must’ nod – and not a ‘yes, that would be a great help to me – whatever would I do without you?’ nod. Just so long as she was clear about that in her own mind, they really didn’t have to know.

What did they think they could tell her anyway?

That depended, once again, on whether this was ‘The Chat’, or a chat. A chat about Mal would probably be a ‘lets set some rules’ thing. Fair enough, she’d been expecting that one for a while, more than the half-joking suggestions Willow and Tara had already made to remind her that they knew.

Of course, she didn’t need their rules. Mal already knew her rules, the important ones, and he showed frustratingly little determination to break them. The boy was all about following the rules, and sometimes she could curse him for his lack of ambition.

But ‘The Chat’ wasn’t something she’d expected – or even thought about. It wasn’t like she’d ever had ‘The Chat’ before but did they really think she didn’t know the stuff that was bound to be in it already? Did they really think she was so innocent she didn’t understand about all the things she, definitely, hadn’t experienced?

Or was this a ‘making sure’ exercise? Ticking it off the parenting list?

And there was a list – she’d seen it. Willow had drawn it up, it was all coloured in and everything. Very pretty.

She hadn’t noticed ‘The Chat’ on it though. Even if this was it then there were degrees of ‘The Chat.’

Was this just a ‘safe sex’ talk? Or was it going to be an ‘all the mysteries’ chat? She’d found out about both from friends who been on the receiving end – or had sisters who had – and…

No, best not to think too much about what had happened in those cases. With horrified fascination she sat up straight on her bed, against the wall, and let them carry on.

What would happen would happen. She just had to deal with what was in front of her, not worry about what it might be.

“Could we sit down?” Willow asked.

Toni nodded; actually afraid that Willow’s obvious nerves might lead to her legs giving out or something. And so the two of them sat sideways at the other end of her bed, twisting to face inwards towards her. Caught between them, resting her back on the wall. She felt pinned, trapped.

But then that was how they looked too – Willow more than Jenny.

“Sometimes,” Willow started after her fingers got lost in themselves at the first attempt. “When a man and a woman get…”

“Close,” Jenny supplied the word yet again.

“Thanks, when they get close they start – ”

“Might start”

They might start to feel that they want to get…”

“Closer,” Jenny added.

“Closer. Yes. They probably start out… kissing and maybe touching a little…” Willow looked at her, they both did.

They weren’t looking for her to supply the sighs this time. Toni did have a sudden fear she might have to translate some words she really didn’t want to, but that wasn’t why they’d paused. No, they were waiting for her to confirm what they already knew.

About the kissing and the touching.

She’d already blurted it out in a rush of fingers a couple of weeks ago. And she was still embarrassed and puzzled about why she’d done that. Why’d she admitted what she and Mal had been doing for no good reason at all? Some desperate desire to come clean?

Had she wanted to prove she was a grown up, a woman?

Whatever had caused it, that slip was probably what’d brought this on – she wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. She kept her fingers still. She might’ve brought it on herself, but she didn’t have to land herself in any more discomfort.

So fingers still then, she just returned their gaze – with her best attentive face, at least she hoped it was. ‘Look at me, paying attention.’

When they couldn’t think of what to say she could see them – like most hearing people – falling back on opening and closing their mouths. Sometimes because they were speaking at the same time – and other times because it was just how a hearing person reacted to losing their words.

In books it was always written as an ‘Ah’ or an ‘Erm’ moment. That was what she imagined this was anyway. They didn’t sign those sort of things – how could they? She could fill it with the same word in her own mind, or just think ‘indecisive pause.’ And this was one.

They looked at each other when she refused to confirm – again – that kissing and touching was where she and Mal had been, Willow made a big deal of looking into her eyes.

She was pretty sure Willow wouldn’t be stupid enough to try her magic tricks, if they’d do any good anyway. They knew how she felt about that.

They did magic, to help people. Great. Even better it’d saved her life more than once. But they knew not to do it around her. It made her uncomfortable, especially after those early days when they’d been…

To be fair they’d been trying to communicate with her – but she hadn’t like either of them being in her head. Even just at the surface of her mind, which was how they’d described it to her later.

When she’d been willing to listen.

Willow was just trying to stare her down though. No magic.

Okay, not exactly ‘stare her down’ more… look her down.

She looked at Willow.

Willow finally looked at Jenny.

Jenny looked at her in the same way.

She looked at Jenny.

She still wasn’t going to give it away again, nor was she going to let them know that they weren’t too late with all this that she hadn’t already been places with Mal that they probably hoped she hadn’t been.

For this they deserved a little doubt. Instead she waited. It was going to get worse, much worse. She wasn’t into beating herself up or helping other people to do it though.

They must’ve thought it was tough for her to acknowledge it again – both reached out and put a hand on top of hers where they rested on her knees. So they were trying to be supportive now huh?

More like weird – they weren’t close enough to do reach her like that without stretching and had to shuffle up, sharing a pathetic look as they did so.

“So, like I was saying – after kissing and touching people… well, they want to get closer,” Willow continued.

“We already said closer,” Jenny interrupted. “Even closer?”

“They want to get even closer than close,” Willow explained. “Or one of them does…”

Yeah, like Mal was ever going to get anything she didn’t want him to?

Ha. She had exactly the opposite problem. She wanted him to go a little further than he was happy with, or thought he could go, and he was steadfastly being… nice.

She just sighed, she couldn’t help it – but their reaction to that sigh made her feel guilty for just exhaling.

Nevertheless, Willow pushed on. “And then, when one of you wants to get even closer, it’s time to think about how close you want to get – and what the consequences of getting close in certain ways are.” Willow let out a massive exhalation of her own as she reached the end of that opening spiel.

Tough on her was it?

The Chat.

This was The Chat. Toni didn’t have much doubt now. It was The Chat with a capital the. And that meant it wasn’t going to get any easier or any of them. Especially when now they were onto ‘consequences.’

Was she going to be told, again, how Faith had been a surprise – despite not being unplanned? There was a consequence – Jenny had apparently gotten pregnant way faster than she’d thought she would once they’d made the decision. All that meant was that Rupert and Jenny were… Oh god, she was actually going to use the word ‘fertile’ when she was thinking about them.

Gross.

And how much of that discomfort has she shown? They’d be thinking it was about something else if she had revealed it.

“And you need to be thinking about how,” Willow continued. “If you want to, you can get closer without risking those consequences.”

It seemed like it was going to be more wide-ranging than she’d been afraid of. Wider than just consequences. Now they were suggesting it might even go as far as… alternatives.

They were really going to do it to her? They were really going to give her the full Joy of (Safe) Sex treatment?

Before she’d wanted to leave, now she just wanted to get out and run. Run and run. Run till it hurt and she was far away from this.

But she was trapped. Trapped by kindness and concern. Especially when Jenny signed, “You’re a woman now, Toni.”

That just doomed her. There was no way she could leave when those words were signed.

Was there no hope? Wasn’t there something for them to go and hunt? Anything? Even something make believe like penguins in the living room?

Could she fake a frog sighting? Here in her bedroom? No…

She could volunteer to give Miss Kitty a bath… that’d be traumatic, but probably better than this.

At least the scars of a feline encounter wouldn’t last a lifetime.

Again they wanted her permission to go on, and she wanted to deny it to them. But she found herself nodding. Warily, but nodding all the same. She didn’t want to encourage them, but she couldn’t send them away either. They felt they needed to do this, and she felt she needed to let them…

In part so they wouldn’t worry and in part so they wouldn’t come up with anything worse.

Worse might include Tara doing it and Toni knew, knew deep down, that no matter what Tara said it was going to spark something. She’d think Tara was accusing her of something and…

It had the potential to start a fight they’d avoided for weeks now.

So she stayed. She nodded. She waited for them.

Just what a teacher married to an English librarian and a lesbian going to tell her that school, books, films and other kids hadn’t told her already, she didn’t really know. She shuddered to think. At least they didn’t seem to have brought reference materials with them. She stayed quiet and waited, but if a banana appeared then she was definitely leaving.

Any fruit or vegetable in fact.

Or anything from the second drawer down in Willow’s dresser.

It was kind of nice to be referred to as a woman though… especially in this context. ‘Nice’ in the ‘I really wish they hadn’t done that’ way.

But being a woman ought to be worth at least an extra hour on curfew on school nights? She’d have to see about that one, it was probably something to raise soon after they finished. Not right away, but soon enough that they’d still remember how good she’d been to have let them talk it through with her.

“And if your not already then I’m sure you’ll soon be having womanly thoughts and feelings,” Willow said. Then she paused, thought about something before plunging on. “Not womanly like I have womanly thoughts about… women. Woman. My woman.”

Toni looked at her, nooo she wasn’t helping Willow.

“Unless you do?” Jenny added quickly.

“Because that’s okay too – if you do. If you’re having womanly thought about… well, women that’s just fine. It’s all good!” Willow told her, confirming that as a lesbian it was okay to be one.

Well, that was news. She’d really been worried that maybe they’d condemn her for being gay.

Not.

Please god let it be over… Did she really have to confirm her sexuality to them? When she already knew it? Didn’t they know? Didn’t they get it? She liked boys. She liked Mal. God… just get over that part of it and move on…

God? Goddess she supposed in this home.

Whatever worked – whoever would end this for her was just fine.

Toni shook her head. No, the shake said. I’m not gay, bi or anything but vanilla, straight up.

“Well,” Willow continued looking relieved. Relieved? Why? Probably because whatever they’d worked out to say to her was based on her being straight. On the possibility things would go further with Mal.

They wouldn’t have been anything but supportive if she’d have turned to them and said ‘yes, actually I’m gay.’

But she knew Willow hated to run up against the unexpected when it came to things she’d planned out. No, they’d all have been completely with her if she’d said she was into girls – but right now it would’ve thrown Willow.

They might even have had to stop and come back to it, when Willow had thought about it some more. Now there was a reason to be straight if ever there was one.

“Well… there are all sorts of ways to deal with those feelings,” Willow said. “Sometimes alone, you might ah… You… erm… you might want to deal with them… you know, alone.”

Toni interpreted the ‘ah’ and the ‘erm’ from the way Willow’s mouth didn’t keep up with her fingers. Idly, she wondered whether that was a problem Tara had with her girlfriend. After this she might owe the pair of them the embarrassment of asking at the worst time she could find.

Not that she really wanted to know but it was better than thinking about Willow’s efforts at conveying the joys of masturbation. Or at least the necessity of it. Oh my god, don’t let them ask if I…

“Which is healthy,” Jenny added about doing things alone.

“Healthy – yes. Very much of the health,” Willow confirmed. “And sometimes when you’re not alone… you don’t want to deal with those feelings alone. Which can also be… healthy.”

Then she turned to Jenny and asked her something, fingers automatically revealing the words too. “We’re saying its healthy right?” Willow asked.

“Kind of…” Jenny hedged. “But technically illegal too in California at her age.”

“Healthy but illegal at her age,” Willow mused, turning back to Toni as she realised she’d been signing it all. Ah. Again. “We appreciate that legality isn’t necessarily top of your thoughts when you…” She was struggling again and looked to Jenny.

“Feel,” the teacher supplied.

“Feel. Which is why we’re…” Willow gestured around the room. Here. “Look, the law is there for your protection. But we’re not stupid. If legal isn’t one of your thoughts when you’re… feeling like that, well then, we just want you to be careful. I’m – I mean we’re sure you’ve had classes on what can happen – and why?”

Oh there’d been classes alright, back at her old school.

Items of fruit. Condoms. That was why she definitely wasn’t going to wait for them to whip a banana out now

There’d been giggles and not even half true boasts about what certain of her classmates had done with boyfriends they didn’t really have. They’d only been kids, thirteen or fourteen back then.

Back when it’d all seemed so academic to her – and it’d definitely put her off the banana her Dad had packed for her to eat at lunch that day.

Okay, so now it was definitely more relevant – what with having a boyfriend and all – but no less ewww. Maybe, right now, it was actually more ewww. Here she was the centre of attention – not just one of many pupils in class.

Both Jenny and Willow looked as if they hoped there had been classes, and she was aware they were waiting for her to reply again. So once again she gave them a nod. She still didn’t trust herself to try and actually say anything in response to the onslaught. She definitely didn’t want her fingers to betray her again.

Just how much worse was it going to get?

How much worse could it get?

“Good,” Jenny and Willow signed together.

Maybe she’d dodged the bullet as Ira liked to say. Maybe, happy with the fact she’d had lessons at school, they’d leave her alone now?

No, they showed no sign of leaving. There was more – always more.

“Also,” Willow continued to sign. “Like we said before – we trust you. We all trust you. You know that right?”

Toni nodded, as she knew she was supposed to – and also because she knew it was true.

They did trust her – they’d told her and they’d backed it up with actions. They gave her much more freedom than she’d have had with her Dad. Okay, so there’d been a few weeks where alone time with Mal had been constantly interrupted, but at least they’d been nice about it and it was because they were worried about her…

When she hadn’t been angry about it, that’d felt kind of nice. That they would worry.

They did worry.

And when things got beyond worry, she knew that when she stepped over the line that marked out ‘reasonable’ then they – or usually just Tara just because of where she was living – were right to put her in line.

Even if she resented the hell out of it, and Tara, at the time it happened.

‘It’s not fair’ was right up there with the dumbest thing any kid could say. Right alongside ‘I hate you.’

She’d never said the latter to them – but she’d said the former more than a few times.

“And it’s not that we’re saying we trust you not to do anything,” Willow said as Jenny shook her head, meaning to agree with the double negative. “It’s more that we trust you not to let anything happen that you don’t want to happen.”

“We know how determined you are,” Jenny said with a smile, and for once Toni had to return it.

They were dead right there.

“And if you do want something to happen – that you’ll be careful,” Willow rounded off.

“That you’ll both be careful,” Jenny signed.

“Yes, because we all trust Mal too – we all like him,” Willow said firmly, making it quite plain they didn’t disapprove of her caseworker’s son.

How could they? Because of whom his Dad was there were advantages and disadvantages. Most of the disadvantages came down to what he told his Dad and what Mr Silver thought of her when she was round at Mal’s house.

Here, it was practically all advantageous. They couldn’t do anything about Mal… at least as long as the two of them didn’t push it so far their guardians had to be seen to act.

“We’re all about the trusting.”

Once again they paused, checking for understanding. Once again she nodded.

On a scale of one to ten, Toni supposed this ranked about a three. It could’ve been much, much worse. All they’d really done was proclaim her a woman, warned her some things were technically illegal if you were found out until you reached a certain age and told her that they all trusted her.

The word ‘sex’ hadn’t even been mentioned – even though it was what this was all really about.

Nor had ‘birds’ or ‘bees.’

No fruit had made an appearance.

She exhaled, relieved that she’d gotten past this rite of passage so easily.

But no… they weren’t done we’re they?

“Now for the embarrassing bit,” Willow said, flushed almost as fiery a red as her hair.

On a scale of one to ten it was getting much, much worse. New numbers might be needed.

----------

Psyched from the exercise and a successful hunt with Rupert, Tara had arrived home to a silent apartment. That shouldn’t have been so unusual. Normally talking was in sign – unless there was another hearing person had been here with Willow – which of course Jenny had been tonight.

But even sign language didn’t make this a silent home – oh no.

Apart from the music she and Willow enjoyed – that they still felt bad for listening to sometimes – and the TV which Toni would watch with closed captions and a total ignorance of just how loud the volume was, Toni probably made more noise than most kids her age.

At least that was what Tara thought – she couldn’t even remember Donny being this loud and he’d fancied himself as a monster of rock for a couple of years there. Daddy would’ve banished him to the barn but he’d have scared the horses.

But then perhaps the description was off. Toni wasn’t a kid anymore was she? She was a young woman now, that was the whole point of what Willow and Jenny had been left with.

Even if Toni wasn’t home – and she should’ve been by now – Willow ought to have been making a least a little noise of her own?

Willow liked to study, or just read, to music.

And there was always the TV – nature programs tonight? On the documentary channels there was always something about nature.

So?

It was dead silent. Silent in the way that it wouldn’t even have been if they’d been in bed sleeping. Quieter than if no one had been here at all. It was the kind of silence that had to be chosen and deliberately enacted.

There was light under Toni’s bedroom door, and there was another in the living room. Their own bedroom door was open – a sure sign Willow hadn’t gone to bed yet.

But neither Willow nor Toni was making a sound. Not a peep.

Had it been so traumatic?

Tara made her way into what passed as their living room – to find Willow sat upright on the sofa, looking at nothing, with her feet flat on the floor. As if she was sitting to attention,

Looking shell-shocked. So it had been so traumatic.

“That bad?” Tara asked as she bent to kiss her lover’s cheek from behind.

Willow nodded, not speaking.

“Where’s Jenny?” Tara asked. At first Willow just waved, to show their friend had left. But Tara pressed it, requiring a verbal answer – anything to break the silence and get Willow talking.

“Oh… she left about half an hour ago, she had to pick up the kids from Dad’s place,” Willow explained, her voice slightly higher pitched than normal. Kind of…

Sing-song. Oh dear.

“How’s Toni?” Tara asked, slightly amused but trying not to show it. Of course she knew what Jenny and Willow had been about to do when she and Rupert went out. They’d all talked about it enough. But facing Toni with all four of them just hadn’t seemed like a good idea, while not being there – but being in the apartment – had seemed even worse. So they’d waited until she and Rupert went hunting.

At least that was how she and Rupert had looked at it… Willow and Jenny might not have been aware it was

“Oh, about how you’d expect,” Willow said, still in her sing-song tone.

“And how’re you baby?” Tara asked.

“Oh goddess Tara, it was just horrible,” Willow said.

“So bad?” Tara asked, surprised.

She just… they’d talked about all this – how it was supposed to go. What was going to come up – and what they didn’t want to bring up unless Toni did. She slipped her shoes off and sat down beside Willow, pulling her girl’s head onto her shoulder.

As the one who’d been out ‘pounding the sidewalk’ she’d been expecting Willow’s invitation to put her feet up over her, for a quick rub. But instead it was just the opposite. She found Willow’s feet up in her lap, as well as the head on her shoulder, as her girlfriend relaxed into her embrace.

There was a message there.

‘My night was tougher than your’s’ probably.

Willow wouldn’t have been wrong either. Killing demons was easy now. Routine even.

What’d happened here… hadn’t been. So feet up were just fine. She stayed quiet for a moment, taking the chance to gently work Willow’s toes, the arches and heels of her feet. Making sure she didn’t tickle.

“Are you going to tell me?” Tara finally asked.

“It was going well actually. We’d got all the beginning out, why we wanted to do it.”

“And?”

“And then we started to… ah… get into what people do. People who enjoy what guys have to offer I mean,” Willow said, not looking at her.

Tara couldn’t help it – she just had to laugh.

“It’s so not funny!”

“Oh I’m sorry. I can just imagine Jenny getting into all that. Toni must’ve hated it.”

“She did hate it,” Willow agreed. “But it wasn’t Jenny who was telling her – at least not at first,” Willow admitted.

Tara, surprised, looked into her girlfriend’s eyes. “You? What do you know?”

“Hey, I’m educated. I read, I watch TV. And well, I was happily – if mistakenly – thinking I was hetero for a good few years. At least until I realised what the liking for a certain blonde really said about me.”

“So you were theory-girl?” Tara checked.

“And Jenny was… experience-of-putting-it-into-practice-girl,” Willow said quietly.

“Oh goddess…” Tara intoned. “I hope we did the right thing.”

“We?” Willow asked. “I don’t recall you or Rupert being there.”

“I can’t speak for Rupert, but you know I’m always with you,” Tara promised her.

“Hmm. Well, tonight I’d have appreciated a more physical manifestation of that support, love,” Willow chastised her. “I made such a fool of myself.”

“Well... wasn’t there anything practical you could tell her?” Tara wondered.

“A few things,” Willow admitted. “The low risk, high pleasure things…”

“Mmm, talk to me about it.”

“I’m too traumatised to tell anyone again,” Willow said with mischief in her eyes. “I’d probably have to show you.”

“Oh, lucky me.”

**********************

[Tigerkid14]

Hey Katharyn

So....these two lines really had me cracking up:

"Well, that was news. She’d really been worried that maybe they’d condemn her for being gay. "

and

"Now there was a reason to be straight if ever there was one."

Also, I know you said you got the name thing sorted out, but I went through the first batch of pages of us seeing Toni (right up until after the sewer-- about page 95) and I didn't see anything about her having a last name. You did mention that she has a meditteranean (sp?) look about her and Willow had some internal babble theory about how she looked like her name should be Toni/Antonia.

Curiosity question: I know that there was some issues initially with all the memories that Drusilla put into Toni's head (i.e. her not trusting Willow when she first saw her 'cause she thought she was a vampire) and there was a slight mention of that in this part:
"She was pretty sure Willow wouldn’t be stupid enough to try her magic tricks, if they’d do any good anyway. They knew how she felt about that. "
But do you plan on doing anything more with that? 'Cause you know, having stuff put into your head by an evil, insane vampire, doesn't seem like the type of issue that would just go away.

Or you could just not answer that question and let me wait and see.

Also, the main reason for this post is to let you know that I am at least still here, reading and following along. I'm more of a lurker than a poster, although I do try. I just didn't want you to think that you were posting this into the void and no one was seeing it.

I'm here, really!

Anyway, I'm off to attempt to do homework before going to watch Henry V for my Shakespeare class.

Meghan

~ "I'm off to save the world! (I can't believe they trusted me with this.)" ~

[Katharyn]

Hi Meghan, glad you stopped by. It's always reassuring to know there are people out there reading this.

I have to say I loved writing this part, it was really fun to get into Toni's head and that usually shows when I pull out lines like that. I try to pull out lines like that all the time - but sometimes they do work. If they made you laugh that makes me smile, which is what all this is about. Not only does the story have to get out - the thing has a life of its own - but someone has to laugh or smile too - so thankyou for that.

Thankyou for looking for the name!!! I am content Toni was never given a surname before. Now she has one. And she is an Antonia. It's no secret, she's Antonia Alessi now. You heard it here first.

Now for the curiosity question. It's a conundrum. I can give you an answer, be vague or evasive and it's clear there is something happening about that. I can give you a clear answer and there's nothing happening. Or if there is I spoil that answer. I can tell you that I can't tell you and obviously there's something to tell. So what to say? I make a point of always answering a question as I enjoy having your interest so that narrows my options.

Of course I could always say 'wait and see' and even if it gives nothining away, it's not very respectful since you've been good enough to ask in the first place!

So - my answer.

First of all I wrote that a LONG time ago, what with one thing or another. If you want to put it in terms of reading - it was about 3 novels ago LOL. Or more. That's my get out clause, I can always claim I forgot.

And I do forget things... but not entirely. That's always been with me, the memories in Toni's head thing.

But I wonder if my intent there was as clear as I remember it being? The problem wasn't so much Dru's memories (though they were an issue) but Toni was much more bothered about the attempt to put words in her head. They wanted to communicate with her and tried that. I think I wanted the idea to be that Toni reacted violently against that.

I think Toni rationalised that as, once she knew about vampires, Willow was a vampire, but now she's human. So the memory is false. In a sense it was already dealt with. What you're picking up on though is the communication thing, putting words in her head, rather than Drusilla memories.

That's not precisely the question you asked though. I'm just surprised you remember that part more than how the girls tried to talk to her. I like surprises though, they are always so very useful.

And yes, to be clear, there is some followup to those. Both of them. However this might be one of those chicken and egg things Meghan. Will there be a followup to it because you reminded me of it and brought it to my attention? Or did I always intend to do it? THAT is my new get out clause... It's in - but the fundamental importance is open to question LOL

Either way, your question will be shaping it as it's not been written just yet., just drafted I hope I remember to credit you - but take it as read if I don't!

Soon for the writing though, sadly you'll get to read it some time later on my current 10 days per part schedule.

Maybe I'll tell you whether it was the chicken or egg when you ask the question in that part!

I just re-read that and I am being such a teasing b*tch. Still, its fun!

Check in whenever you like Meghan, don't feel you have to post but if you want to ask questions or just tell me you smiled - that's very welcome!

I'll leave you with a possibly relevant quote:

"Men of few words are the best men" . - (Act III, Scene II).

Trouble is if that applies to women too, then I am so far from being the best its not even funny!

Thanks.

Katharyn

[Forrister]

You may not be aware of it, but here in sunny Brisbane we are experiencing the worst drought in living memory. We are on level 3 water restrictions. So, I get a few days off, decide to go to the beach for a few days and what happens? We get rain . . . . lots of drizzly, intermittant, soaking rain. I rather suspect I should charge the government for my services, but I can't figure out how to word the invoice. Ah well, at least the view out my window is significantly greener.

I felt soooo sorry for Toni in this part. I have no doubt that she probably knew more about what they were talking about than they did. In my experience, young people of that age tend to do make a point of finding these things out. I think all the discomfort lies in watching the adults squirm as they are trying to explain something basically simple, in the most complicated, convoluted way possible. It's very embarrassing and teenagers hate being embarrassed more than anything. Willow should have just told her the facts, skipped all the beating around the bush (er . . . pardon the pun), and just put things as simply as possible, citing cause and effect.

It's a pity Toni was too embarrassed to see the funny side because if I were in her place Willows squirming would have me rolling on the floor with laughter. I think Toni has more common sense about the subject that she is given credit for.

Thanks for another priceless scene in the epic tapestry.

Forrister

Omnia quae de Sexu cognoscere semper voluisti sed rogare metuisti.
Everything you always wanted to know about Sex but were afraid to ask.

[Katharyn]

We've got rain here too - but I wasn't on the way to the beach!

For me this part was a must. It was so rich in comic possibilities, but also it's one of the clearest ways of showing that - with Toni - they are doing what needs to be done.

They aren't looking at it as a temporary thing - even though it could be - they are taking on the whole job when maybe they don't need to.

Why Willow and Jenny I wondered about it? Why not? It's the funniest combination. Especially with Willow's nerves. I'm trying to slip a few more 'classic' Willow things in there. It's hard - they've all been through so much that they aren't the canon characters anymore, but this is an attempt to get some of that back, or at least to combine it with who they are now.

And yes, Toni knows all about it. It's funny - in a part I am just writing at the moment - it appears that Toni doesn't have all the information, but when it comes to this she does. If for no other reason that she wouldn't start anything with Mal without knowing exactly where it was going. She might not be prepared girl like Willow, but she's far from stupid.

Even if she is 15.

I couldn't see Willow just doing the 'facts' though. I think she would, and this is the part that'd make her more uncomfortable, be all helpful with it.

She'd do cause and effect, but then she'd look at other ways to get the effect. Or the cause.

I think Toni might see the funny side. But not for about 25 years till she has to do the same thing.

Thanks for still being here!

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Section 1 of 2

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - Choices (Part 196)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Katharynrosser1@hotmail.co.uk Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Progressing the matter of Toni’s fostering etc.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: The first section of this part had been sketched out some time ago (years ago!) but that was back when there was a different emphasis in Toni’s arc. With what’s changed here – and because I hadn’t addressed it for a while – I felt we needed to touch base with what was going on with regard to her future. In addition it’s another step in the actual plot rather than me just indulging myself. Make of that what you will. Once again I have to say just because you don’t see the Mayor doesn’t mean he’s not there and doing his thing.
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Choices

By

Katharyn Rosser



“No! Don’t send Mr Squirrel to sad land,” Willow protested as the badger shook her shoulder.

“Up, up, up sleepyhead,” the badger said to her, without being too gentle.

She turned from her porridge and saw it was a sexy, blonde badger.

Sleepyhead?

Was she dreaming? But she had porridge to eat and they were about to send one of her friends to sad land. Where everyone was sad – which was probably why it had the name.

“Wut?” she groaned. She was getting more and more of the impression that the world she knew – a world of cuddly animals, porridge and cookies – wasn’t the world at all. And she was being shaken out of it.

She opened her eyes…

The world she woke to wasn’t so bad after all. The sexy blonde was still here, even if she wasn’t a badger anymore.

Better as Classic Tara. Accept no substitutes – especially badger like ones.

“Morni-” she started to say.

“Get up sweetie,” Tara said inches from her face as she stretched.

Willow could smell the fresh mint of toothpaste on her girlfriend’s breath, her perfume and a whiff of something that was uniquely Tara. Though not the same uniquely Tara thing she luxuriated in when they got cuddly.

“What?” she asked again.

“Get up,” Tara insisted again.

Willow blinked against the light as Tara finally welcomed her to the day as she kissed her nose gently and then moved away from the bed. The curtains were already wide open, Tara had just been stood in the way and now she’d moved… The harsh light of the lamp at the centre of the room blazed into her face as well as the sunlight from the window. Not good.

“Am I late? I don’t think I’m late – I don’t have anything to be late for… do I?”

Tara fussed around the room, tidying up a little, then pulled the covers back from her. That left her lying there in her PJs.

Willow looked down herself. Okay, it was half her PJs. Tara was just picking the other half up for her now… they seemed to have been lost in the night. Now how could that have happened?

Unbidden a smile found its way to her lips as Tara folded them neatly, ready to go under her pillow.

Or at least they would when she got up.

Without the covers everything was a lot less snug. Of course it wasn’t cold – but it wasn’t snug. Either.

“Tara?”

“It’s nothing you know about sweetie – but please just get up and I’ll tell you later.”

Uhuh. That’d be Tara’s serious voice and why was her girlfriend already dressed properly? More than properly. Seriously even. It wasn’t a big day today was it?

She’d have known if it was a big day. Wouldn’t she?

‘Nothing you know about’ Tara had said.

So… something she didn’t know about? That seemed about as much deduction and logic as she was capable of right now.

Even though all these thoughts had started to occur to her, Willow made no move to get out of their little piece of heaven, or at least that’s how it seemed at the moment.

It could only be improved if Tara was with her, oh and if she had the duvet back. It was an offer she intended to make if Tara would just stop being so serious and fussy for a moment.

Or… Willow lurched reached for the covers herself, then rolled over, ready to drift back into sleep whether Tara was with her or not. They’d been up late last night… well not ‘up’ up, as they’d been mainly horizontal. But… up awake. Very awake.

Come to think of it though – there had been a period of physical upness too and as a result Willow was sure there weren’t any cobwebs up around the ceiling at the moment. That happened sometimes… and it’d happened last night. So she was due a lie-in.

After all she was tired! “Good,” she murmured to herself. “I’d hate to think I’d forgotten whatever it is.”

There was a part of her that was intrigued – because there was a part of her that found taking the trash out intriguing – even if it had long since lost its novelty value.

But there was a dominant part of her right now that wanted her to just roll over, snuggle up to Tara and go back to sleep. “Why don’t you come back here with me?” she suggested, her eyes already closed. “We can not know about it together for a while… I’ll help you forget again.”

Then her hand was gently taken, that would be Tara wrapping a soft hand around hers. Or not so gentle… Tara could be firm too.

Perhaps it was the sleepiness, perhaps it was the idea of Tara – all things Tara – but Willow was sure she could have a pleasant dream involving her favourite girl if she was just allowed to go back to sleep. Even if Tara didn’t want to come back to bed, she could still dream about her.

Whatever else she’d been dreaming about before was fading fast… but there was still enough sleepiness, and Tara-thoughts to make it so.

That was when Tara used the hand she’d taken a hold of to try to pull her from the bed.

Hard.

Okay, so this wasn’t kidding around. This was Tara knowing that Willow would act to save herself from falling out or being dragged too far.

And it actually kind of hurt.

“Baby… please…” Willow murmured with her arm pulled out to the side. “I’m tired.”

The arm relaxed a little and Tara’s face was right beside her own again. “I know love. I was up just as long as you remember?” Tara told her gently and then kissed her cheek just as softly. “But you have to get up now.”

Hunting – late hunting that’d involved more athleticism than usual – and snuggles later on should’ve earned them an extended lie in. Neither of them had any classes. It was the weekend. Why weren’t they in bed together? Why weren’t they waking up snugly?

Where were the good morning kisses?

But then there had been the kiss from the… badger?

Had that been Tara?

Must have been – Tara wouldn’t have forgotten and there had been that other quick one.

Finally groaning in protest, Willow did start to obey the instructions, getting a good look at her woman and saw how Tara was dressed. Not just serious, it was formal. It was her suit. Sombre dark colours that weren’t usually her thing at all.

Not that she looked bad in it – but Tara just didn’t choose to wear clothes like that.

Okay, now Tara could be ‘inconspicuous’ in some of her clothes – even now she liked to avoid making a fashion statement for fear of being noticed in a new crowd. And that was strange given how many, what was the word… loud dresses Willow’s woman had and would wear when she was confident in the people she was with.

As Rupert had once commented ‘it’s almost like were being punished for being her friends.’

He’d lasted about three seconds after making that comment before she, Tara, Jenny and even Toni had chipped in with a comment about his tweed.

When they’d come to college Tara’s wardrobe had transitioned from the plain, concealing and subtly individual through to bright colours and eventually to the kind of clothes that just made her look… mmm. The clothes Tara wore to hunt in, the pants and leather jacket combinations she’d never had the confidence to wear to class when they started school here…

At night it was practical, in the daytime… it was downright edible.

And she was the only one who got to do the eating.

Didn’t stop Tara preferring to dress… individually when there was no one to be embarrassed in front of though. Formal skirt/jacket combinations had never really been her thing.

Besides, Tara’s dress sense was a small price to pay for how beautiful it made her… Willow she was sure there was stuff about her that Tara found quirky too. She was also perfectly capable of picking out ‘loud’ clothes too. Anti-fashion. There was even some of Tara’s she’d love to be able to wear… and could. While the reverse wasn’t true so often.

One of them had a bosom and one of them had… less.

‘Oh… Who died?” she asked, reflecting on the dark skirt with its matching jacket, then there was the plain white blouse.

Sombre. Serious. Formal. Dark. Sunnydale.

“Oh goddess,” she exclaimed. “Did someone die?” Here she was, rolling around topless in bed – starting to feel sassy and in need of Tara’s tender skills – and someone had passed away…?

“No, no one died,” Tara assured her quickly. “The only person in any danger at all is only risking her fate because she won’t hurry up and get out of bed when she’s been asked to.”

With that Tara pulled her up and dragged her towards the bathroom. “Huh?” Where were they going now?

What was the rush?

Tara didn’t explain as they crossed the hall into the bathroom. Willow didn’t even have a hand free to sign a good morning to Toni who they passed in the hall. Let alone being given time, even if she hadn’t been covering herself with the arm Tara wasn’t pulling on.

Toni also looked uncommonly… neat too.

What was happening? She didn’t even have time to say morning? To see what Toni was dressed in?

And to find out why?

Once in the bathroom, Tara closed the door and stood her by the shower.

Then she just set about her… In seconds the string of her PJ bottoms was untied and before Willow knew it her girlfriend was on her knees in front of her, pulling them down.

Okaaaaay.

Now there was an attractive alternative to sleep. Even to snuggles. Did Tara perhaps want some shower fun? Tara could certainly have some shower fun. It was nothing new; even if it wasn’t so frequent as to be commonplace.

That meant it still had the additional thrill of being special – no, make that extra special with the possibility Tara was playing dress up... It might explain the sense of urgency in Tara. That was pretty special too.

Extra-extra special then? Or was that three extra’s? How many extras did she need?

Not that ‘special’ wasn’t special enough. Just because it was sometimes vanilla didn’t make it any less perfect. She liked vanilla.

But keeping her mind off how satisfactory other activities could be was proving tricky at the moment. After all Tara’s lips weren’t so very far off that special place they seemed to like to be.

It was just that some things, by virtue of being less common than others were more… unusual than those others. Didn’t stop the ‘usual’ being perfect did it? Heck no.

If it was Tara there was a high probability, a very high probability that it was going to be perfect.

And it was always Tara.

Thinking about those other things – not to mention the idea of streams of water running over their skin while Tara’s lips whispered over her flesh… Well, just the idea made everything work for her.

And just as she started to get into the moment, Tara pulled away leaving her to sigh in frustration at the empty threat.

Now that was something that was unusual. Not even a quick kiss while she was down there?

Tara would’ve known all about the building… mood. She’d have been able to feel it, and not just down there. And the sombre, almost business like clothes did make Tara look very sexy.

The way her long hair was tied back too… Surely this was dress up? Tara had found out she liked the business look and was playing with her?

Perhaps… A girl could always hope.

Now Tara was standing again, with a hand on her chest. Ah… perhaps there was still hope. She smiled, anticipating great things for the morning. Or at least for the next half hour or so.

Maybe it’d even been a good idea to get out of bed.

But all her girlfriend did was to push her back into the shower stall.

“Now, hurry up,” Tara said, bending to pick up the PJ bottoms from the floor before reaching in to turn the water on.

“Ow!”

The initial shock made Willow jump, but it also kept her silent. Then she remembered what the word for the absence of heat was. “Cold! Cold! Cold! Eeesh!”

Tara looked at her for a beat, probably focusing on the more physical evidence of that temperature from where she was looking. “So I see.” It was the first humour Tara had allowed to creep into their – one sided – conversation since she’d woken up.

Finally she closed the glass shower door, but Willow was sure her girlfriend stood there for a few moments looking at her through the frosted glass.

As the water started to warm up and the cold was less biting, Willow had the impression she wasn’t the only one regretting Tara hadn’t chosen to stay here with her. So their connection suggested anyway, not to mention the time Tara stood watching her.

They must be really pressed for time.

So she did as she was told – of course – and hurried up, still with no idea what was going on.

------------

Toni smiled as Willow came into the kitchen, then stood looking at her and Tara expectantly.

Hair wrapped in a towel, Willow was wearing that old robe that Toni tended to think was a security blanket. Tara had gotten her girlfriend a perfectly lovely silken robe just last month – at Willow’s prompting too – and she’d had worn it a few times and gradually migrated back into the old towelling one. One that looked like she’d been chewing the collar for years.

But then maybe Willow needed something to do with her mouth when Tara was out.

The joke she’d just made to herself actually made her smile, but she swallowed it as both of the women she was living with turned to her, obviously wondering what she was smiling at.

She just shook her head, dismissing it.

Her lesbian jokes really sucked compared to Tara and Willow’s… they were less social commentary about the lesbian community, like the ones they found funny, and more about Tara and Willow themselves.

Which was fine, but it wasn’t the kind of thing either of them found easy to laugh at. Oh they didn’t mind… but they just didn’t get them a lot of the time. Or they didn’t choose to.

Okay, so the jokes weren’t actually that funny anyway – but then neither were any of her other jokes. Toni had come to terms with the fact she wasn’t a great comedienne, she was just better at laughing at other people’s jokes.

That one might’ve worked though – at least if Jenny had been here. It wasn’t the same when it was just she, Willow and Tara. Then, inevitably, one of them would be embarrassed. Then the other. And finally she’d be embarrassed to have embarrassed them.

All in all it was best to save that one till she could tell Jenny. Jenny had a way of making personal observations that no one ever really minded and everyone could laugh at.

Except the butt of the joke and even then…

Tara set aside the coffee cup she’d been sipping at since Willow went into the shower – or rather when she’d been put there – and started to sign as she talked to Willow.

Honestly, Toni was proud of them both – it was second nature to them now to free up their hands and just sign as a natural part of talking, even when they weren’t talking to her. Sometimes when she wasn’t in the room – she’d come and catch them signing which was like… great in a very weird way.

She really was impressed with how far they’d come.

Thinking about it, there was a joke in that too.

“Will, what are you doing? Go get dressed,” Tara instructed in more than one language.

Toni smiled again. Tara could be sooo like a Mom – and she could treat Willow like that too.

Or at least what she considered a Mom would have been like. It hadn’t been the same just living with her Dad. There hadn’t always been someone around and available for her – he’d had to do his work too after all. He’d had to support both of them and pay for the school too.

It wasn’t that she’d wanted a Mom, or anyone else, around but now that she was living here with two people she could put Tara into that box. A part of what her Dad had been forced to be by circumstances too. Tara was the one who had to be the disciplinarian.

She was the central, strong, pillar of things in this home, but where would she be without the love and support of her Willow?

Even Toni could see she’d be incomplete… and vice versa of course. It’d always seemed sappy. It was sappy. But these two made each other complete. It was as obvious as the nose on her face.

It was right there in front of her, and there was no getting away from it.

And it wasn’t difficult to see how things would be if she was going to be here for the long term with them. Not difficult to see, and not unattractive either.

In spite of all the little niggles Toni couldn’t believe it would be a bad thing anymore. The question they asked her at social services, making sure things were okay, told her just how bad things could be for other some other kids.

And she was afraid of that. Apart from her Mom turning up she was more afraid of being in care, running into those problems than anything else.

If the worst thing that’d happened to her here was that these two women had cared enough to have ‘The Chat’ with her… Well, what did a few clashes with Tara matter? They seemed bad at the time, but Tara was so calm and assured the ‘fight’ was almost always one way traffic. Lots of stamping and forceful signing – usually involving a lot of stabbing ‘you!’ gestures.

And that was something she never stopped feeling guilty for.

Even if she’d never admit it to Tara.

Kids were supposed to clash with parents – it was like some inbuilt thing they said. But she’d never really clashed with her Dad like she had Tara.

Then… everything had changed to bring her here. This was different – they were different.

She was different now too. Maybe, after all that, they were the right people for her to be with. Seemed like it. Who else could understand vampires? Who else had saved her life – more than once?

*Do you know what’s going on?* Willow asked her furtively and just in sign as Tara turned away for a second.

Toni shook her head and turned back to watching the two of them as Willow pretended the question hadn’t even been asked.

Of course she knew, Tara had come for her long before she’d gone for Willow. The conversation they’d had then was the whole reason for this. Not that she’d thought it’d move this fast.

Neither had Tara she supposed.

But it wasn’t her place to say so was it? Tara wanted Willow dressed, they did need to go soon.

Besides, she wasn’t about to get in the middle of these women when they were teasing each other. She’d made that mistake when she’d helped Rupert keep a secret for his wife about a trip to a hotel for the night.

Jenny still hadn’t finished getting her revenge on her. That was the thing with Jenny, her revenge lasted a looong time.

All she’d been doing was babysitting – and yes she’d known why. At the time it’d seemed like a good deal for twenty dollars. She’d have sat for Ben and Faith for free, and not just because it was the right thing to do for people who were looking after her.

But she’d learnt her lesson. Now she preferred to be ignorant and poor.

“Willow, much as I love you, if you don’t go and get dressed I’ll…” Tara’s hands paused, as did her lips, but it wasn’t one of those ‘erm moments.’ No, Tara was just thinking of the best way to put it. “I’ll…”

Toni held her breath, wondering what it would be. Willow seemed just as interested.

“I’ll spank you,” Tara told her finally.

Toni watched the pair of them as Willow took in the sight of her lover. Then she blinked, shaking her head a little bit as if she couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Toni was certain that the fingers had said the ‘s’ word though. So… assuming the spoken words had been the same and it hadn’t been a mistake.

Tara had meant ‘spank’ hadn’t she?

Could she have messed up the sign? It definitely wasn’t one she’d ever taught them – any of them.

And whatever it was Tara had said verbally, Willow was still surprised by it. Surprised in the kind of way that led to a wicked grin. Spanking seemed more and more likely.

This was another of those ‘never so glad I’m deaf’ moments. As she understood it spanking would’ve been… quite distinctive – even from another room. Everything she’d read and been told suggested there was a sound everyone would know when flesh met flesh like that.

Was that really what they liked?

No… If it had been, Willow wouldn’t have been surprised. And it wouldn’t be a threat. Tara was clearly being perfectly serious, even if she didn’t expect it to come to that.

“Now there’s something we haven’t tried,” Willow’s fingers said. “I didn’t even think you knew the sign…” She paused and seemed to think about it.

Which raised the question of why Willow knew the sign. Toni didn’t say anything about that either.

“It’s not like its something I really wanted to try, but you make anything fun, lover,” Willow added.

Toni couldn’t help giggling, the sly looks Willow was shooting her showed that this wasn’t a private conversation she was sitting – standing – in on. No, Willow was teasing her girlfriend now, probably partly as revenge for Tara not telling her what was going on.

And if that embarrassed Tara because she was there then, from Willow’s perspective, so much the better.

When she did this Willow was kind of like Jenny, but redder.

A little while back they wouldn’t have dreamed of making a joke about this kind of thing in front of her. In the early days and weeks she’d sensed them catching themselves – not saying things they naturally wanted to. Politeness, back then, had stopped them saying things they couldn’t sign as well.

Now they knew her well enough and let it all hang out.

Like Willow crossing the hall on the way to the bathroom with nothing on above the waist.

Okay, that hadn’t been all of it hanging out, but it was everything that did hang.

Familiarity.

That was why she felt she was able to laugh at it too. *So glad I’m deaf,* Toni said, letting them know exactly how she felt. *If that’s what’s going to be happening around here.*

No… it wouldn’t be so bad to stay here, with them. It seemed a long time, but it’d only be for a few more years anyway. She was fifteen now, she wouldn’t need to be looked after for much longer.

And they were good people, all of them – not just Willow and Tara.

Then there were the kids… Faith and Ben. How could she be without her little sister now?

Tara just looked at both of them with her ‘go on, say that again,’ face. Then she found a smile, unable to kid them that she was mortified they might even think that sex games was what she’d meant. “Okay, so my threats are pretty lame,” Tara admitted “But it always used to motivate me when I was little.”

“You were spanked?” Willow asked. “I didn’t know that.”

“Dad was… he was pretty strict. You know why,” Tara confided.

Willow nodded, and Toni had to wonder what she was talking about – but then if they weren’t going to say she wasn’t going to ask. ‘Strict’ Dad’s were the kind of thing you didn’t go into. It could be something… well, it could be something bad.

She knew Tara’s close family were all dead – but she’d also worked out that Mr Maclay had been doing… Well, he’d definitely been doing something Willow didn’t like the idea of. There were things some people did to their kids…

Not just to their kids. Sometimes they did to them to other people’s kids, and those were the ones you actually got to hear about on the news. Everyone worried about strangers, but too often it was relatives and family friends.

At least that was what the questions social services asked suggested. In making sure nothing was happening to her they’d pretty much given her an education in just what could happen. And what to do about it.

The easiest thing to do was to stay right here. With people who’d never, ever do anything like that to her. She wasn’t so stupid as to believe that every single foster family – or kids care home – was going to be like this.

Or that every other foster family was doing bad things to their kids.

But the way her luck had been running – captured by vampires, losing her Dad… all of that. Why would she even want to take that chance?

“Besides,” Tara smiled; whatever awkwardness there had been there gone now. “I wasn’t always an angel.”

Willow looked to her, and Toni nodded too. It’d happened to her. She’d had a few spankings when she was young. Or had she? Now she thought about it, she wondered if it had just been the threat? She could remember the threat of it… but not the actual spankings themselves.

It’d probably kept her in line, knowing it could happen.

And if she had been ‘spanked’ – she’d definitely been doing something to deserve it. But never twice. That was why she remembered the threat of it and not the actual spanking. She’d paid attention when she was told ‘no.’ Dad had always said it was the first sign she’d learned. Both doing it, and being told it.

So maybe that’d been through fear – fear of pain back then.

But she’d done as she was told.

Would Willow?

This whole spanking thing seemed new to her. So Ira had never done that? Never even threatened it?

Willow actually looked worried for a moment that it might’ve happened. At least before Tara reassured her. “Hey sweetie, what’s wrong? I deserved it some of the time. Besides, Donny got it much more than I did. My brother,” Tara added to tell her who he was.

“I was never spanked,” Willow said.

Tara rounded the breakfast bar and went to her girlfriend. “But then,” she started as she first pulled Willow into a hug and then pushed her back to suggest that she should go get dressed, “you were always Little Miss Perfect. At least that’s how Ira tells it.”

Willow smiled her ‘I’m the best smile’; Toni was used to her reaction to praise by now. It didn’t matter who was praising her, or for what. Even if it was a joke Willow loved to be the best. ‘Perfect’ was all she wanted to be. The perfect student. The perfect girlfriend.

Even the perfect parental substitute. That was probably where ‘The Chat’ had come from. It was definitely why Willow had that multicoloured spreadsheet of ‘Things to do with Toni.’

And the entries weren’t like ‘taking Toni to the park to play miniature-golf.’

Tara wasn’t done though. “At least you were always Little Miss Perfect until now. Now you’re being naughty and not doing as you’re told… So go get dressed.” A quick flick of the wrist and Willow got a smack on the butt she’d been promised. “Now.”

Willow wasn’t doing as she was told though. “Baby, it took you to make me naughty. But what am I dressing for? You still haven’t told me what’s going on.”

Tara smiled again. There was a lot of smiling in this apartment – it was one of things that appealed to Toni about the place. Smiling, laughter – general goodness. She noticed things like that, perhaps more than the people who were actually doing the smiling at each other.

Would there be many foster-families out there where the parents were as in love as these two? Probably not.

There hadn’t been a lot of smiling when they’d been underground, in that cage. Not much at all. Remembering things like that just made this place seem all the better.

“Sweetie, Toni said ‘yes,’” Tara finally explained.

“Yes?” Willow checked, looking quizzically at both of them.

“As in ‘Yes… she’d like to stay with us.’ As in ‘Yes, we should petition the judge and get the process moving’,” Tara told her.

Willow’s brow wrinkled. “We only talked about this last night,” Willow said. “About how my choice of school depended on…”

Willow looked over at her, as if accusing her of leaving her out of the loop. But she hadn’t known anything.

“I only talked to Toni this morning,” Tara confirmed. “While you were sleepy-girl.”

“And it’s already ‘yes’?”

“It’s already yes” Tara reiterated.

Toni added, *Yes.* She could speak for herself – and that was what they’d given her the chance to do.

Willow looked surprised, maybe even verging on shocked. “I can’t believe it. Don’t you want to think about it or anything?”

“Baby, don’t talk her out of it,” Tara joked.

*I thought,* Toni signed. *Didn’t take long.* It was all she’d been doing for ages – apart from running, babysitting, school, and Mal… well, okay she hadn’t been ‘doing’ Mal, but she’d been with him.

What else could she say? It wasn’t like she’d said ‘yes’ because she didn’t want to go into the system. It wasn’t because in the system she’d be sent here, there and everywhere… including to some people who might not have her best interests at heart.

It wasn’t because she might lose contact with Mal, or even be forced to change school.

It wasn’t to make things more permanent so it was harder for her Mom to take her away – if anyone ever found the bitch.

It wasn’t even because she liked Jenny, Rupert, Willow and even Tara. It certainly wasn’t because she was grateful to them. It wasn’t that she loved the Giles’ kids. Faith and Ben treated her like a sister and she did love that.

Well, okay Faith did – but she still felt like Ben’s sister even though he was too small to do anything much.

It wasn’t any one of those things – it was all of them. And more besides. It was just… right.

“You’re better at making decisions than I am,” Willow admitted to her, her expression suggested she was surprised – not so much at the decision but how fast she’d come to it.

They could’ve asked her anytime in the last few months though, and she’d have said just the same thing.

“Sweetie,” Tara chided her girlfriend, “Faith’s better at making decisions than you and she isn’t five yet. Now you need to change, we probably have papers to sign and motions to pass and all those legal things.”

Willow was about to rebut the accusation, but then she was just forced to nod. It was quicker and it also was true when you came right down to it – Faith was better at making decisions than Willow.

But then Faith was better at making decisions than any of them. She hadn’t learned to really worry about things yet. She was still at the age, and in a family, where nearly everything went right for her – no matter what she did.

Would she be the same when she grew up? Had Willow been like that once – before she learned to think too much?

Had saying her ‘yes’ to Tara taken away a big decision Willow had been agonising over? Where to go take her post-graduate course?

Toni had to admit she hadn’t thought about that – except in as much as they wouldn’t be deserting her.

And what if Willow still wanted to go to another school? What then? Could she?

Chastened by the accusation, but looking a little excited too, Willow stopped on her way out of the kitchen. Then she turned around and looked puzzled again. “Motions to pass? How’d we get to that so fast? How can you have made an appointment for anything it’s only yet,” Willow paused and looked at the clock, “nine-thirty?”

It’d been impressive. And surprising Toni had to admit. Tara had spoken to her when she’d gotten up, and before nine she’d made a call to… someone. Rupert and Jenny had been consulted too and there it was… All they’d had to do then was get Willow up.

Quickly.

Here they were, twenty minutes later and Willow was still wet and just in her robe.

There was a joke there too, she was sure.

“Don’t we need paperwork and lawyers and things?” Willow wondered, echoing Toni’s thoughts of half an hour ago.

“All of that love, but we can kick the process off by talking to the judge. As long as we’re dressed accordingly. Like not in a tatty robe you were supposed to have thrown away already.” Tara waved her girlfriend away to go change.

“But how did we get in so fast?” Willow protested. “Even if somehow we could get in to start things off today, how can we…? Now?”

“Friends in the right places,” Tara revealed, tapping her nose – and that wasn’t a sign.

“You used people you knew from City Hall?!” Willow asked. Tara nodded. “But I didn’t think you still knew anyone there…”

“True, but they know who I am,” Tara said. “And they pointed me in the right direction to finding the judge’s clerk, who had a look at her diary and when she might have a window. That window is in just an hour, so Willow honey –”

“I know, go get dressed,” Willow finished for her.

*I’ll make you some toast to go with,* Toni offered.

“And coffee,” Willow added as she left to do as she’d been told.

*Is that a good idea?* Toni asked after stamping for Willow’s attention, seeing Tara sigh. They could have this discussion later, but… it’d just come out and Willow was hesitating again.

“What do you mean?”

*We don’t want you all jumpy,* Toni signed.

“Not when we might have to talk to a judge,” Tara warned, agreeing with her.

*You know how you get,* Toni added.

“Even on decaf,” Tara finished.

Willow was about to retort, then seemed to have thought better about it. “Okay, toast and juice? If that’s okay with you both? I wouldn’t want a natural sugar rush to make me too hyper or something.”

Toni could tell she wasn’t offended. She was sure Willow could have handled one coffee, just the one. But it was still fun to tease.

“I can’t believe you didn’t wait for me,” Willow said, pausing again.

“You looked so peaceful sleeping there,” Tara said. “And you know how I hate to wake you.”

“Except when you want more than toast and juice,” Willow said, and Toni thought she probably wasn’t joking this time.

*Or to go and see a judge.*

Tara smiled. “Sweetie. Tell me off later. Now, please. Go get dressed.”

Toni imagined that, somehow, Willow would take it out of Tara. Somehow.

------------------

Continued below.

[Katharyn]

Section 2 of 2

“Okay,” Tara said. “I apologise.” That hadn’t been what she had in mind at all. They’d all been walking in awkward silence for a few minutes now, thinking how best to put things.

Except for Toni, for Toni silence wasn’t so awkward.

“It did all seem,” Rupert hesitated, perhaps not wanting to seem to criticise. “A trifle unnecessary.”

“I guess I was just excited,” Tara explained. What else was she supposed to have done? Slow down and figure things out? Now where would that kind of approach have gotten her in life?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Ahead of yourself?” Jenny guessed.

Tara nodded.

“You put the cart before the horse,” Rupert supplied the alternative metaphor, as only a Brit could.

She nodded again.

*Do you mean she got carried away?* Toni asked.

And once more with the nod. All true.

“Hey, all of you leave her alone please,” Willow instructed, clutching her girlfriends hand possessively once she’d finished signing. “My girlfriend, I’ll decide who gets to tease her about it.”

Oh wonderful.

*It was you she got out of bed,* Toni pointed out.

Willow paused and looked at her. “And you put me in the shower. The cold shower,” she said. But her girlfriend wasn’t letting go of her hand.

“Did you want to go before the judge looking all messy?” Tara wondered. She winced as she realised what she’d said. Not so much who she’d said it to, but who she’d said it in front of…

Jenny took the opportunity, as Tara had been pretty sure she would. “So you think Willow’s a mess in the morning?” she asked.

Willow looked at her expectantly, waiting and quite happy to play Jenny’s game when someone else was the focus of it.

Tara considered her responses. She was caught, but she could mitigate things. “I’d have gone with ‘mussed’ actually, after all we were, you know… last night.”

“Hunting vampires?” Rupert asked. “So how did the hunting go?”

“She didn’t mean hunting vampires Rupert,” Jenny said. “Or demons.”

Jenny always knew. Always. They were the ones who could read aura’s – she and Willow – but somehow Jenny always knew when they’d… mussed each other up. It was uncanny. Tara didn’t think it had anything to do with the casting of bones either. Somehow she just knew.

“Actually I did…” Tara said. “Demons and vampires. Both. And the hunt went well – three dusts and the demon. But I didn’t just mean the hunting either.”

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

*Ah.*

“Toni!”

The youngest of them shrugged and set off walking again.

“So what do you two do to get so mussed?” Jenny wondered, and Tara knew she didn’t expect an answer.

Which was precisely why she gave one, at least of a sort. “I love you Jenny, so I won’t say a word. I wouldn’t want to make you both feel inadequate by telling you.”

There, let her chew on that.

And somehow it worked.

Toni burst into laughter, even though Tara would’ve been more comfortable if she’d not gotten the joke at all. And Jenny… She actually blushed. A little too much vanilla in the lives of the Sunnydale High faculty staff?

Or was it for some other reason?

“Well, I’m glad you got me up,” Willow said, stopping and turning her round for a kiss. A lingering, arms loops around shoulders kiss. “Really glad.”

*As glad as you are you got mussed?* Toni asked.

Tara just turned her head and stared until Toni looked away. Sometimes… sometimes that girl was a little too adult for her own good. No… not for her own good. She was too adult for their good.

Just wait until Jenny had to deal with a knowing Faith, and see how she liked it.

“Really glad?” she asked Will, after allowing another flurry of tiny kisses there in the middle of the street. Or at least the middle of the sidewalk. They’d only once stopped traffic with their… mussing. Never again.

“Really,” Willow promised her.

Fingertips trailed down her spine and suddenly both willowhands were planted on her butt, holding her there. Tara left her arms right where they were though, looped around Willow’s neck.

“For one thing you look very sexy like that,” Willow went on.

“Hmm, I should dress sombre more often,” Tara suggested – never realising that Willow had liked this kind of thing. It could make life as a teacher interesting, when she was dressing professionally.

“No arguments here, and its not so much sombre as… businesslike.” Willow said.

“Hmm, perhaps I should worry about letting you out into the big corporate world?” she teased. “If this sets you off.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t,” Willow said with another kiss.

“So that’s one thing – what was the other?” Tara asked, who knew Willow was right. She’d never have to worry about that.

“The other thing is… I don’t care if the judge basically just listened and said ‘right.’ I don’t care that all she did was tell us to take it through channels. I don’t care about any of that… I just care that you want Toni to stay with us. So thank you.”

“Now do you want to repeat that all for Toni?” Tara wondered, after another kiss. “I think she’d like to know how you feel. Even if she’d never admit it.”

It seemed Willow hadn’t quite realised that her hands were holding her instead of doing the talking thing. Actually neither of them was, but Tara was aware of it. She’d just wanted a moment with Willow.

And it wasn’t like their hands had been entirely still.

But they hadn’t been as busy as Willow’s when she hurriedly showed Toni what she’d been saying either. Tara was pleased to see the girl’s face light up, at least until she caught herself and went back to teenage indifference.

Or tried to.

“Okay,” Jenny said – finally recovered. “Are you two going to need a room or shall we keep walking.”

“Can’t I kiss my girl?” Willow asked rhetorically. As if there was any answer but ‘yes please.’

“Not when I want coffee,” Jenny said. “And I’m pretty sure you already kissed her.”

*There was kissing there,* Toni confirmed. *But they’re always doing that.*

“Oh, I know.”

“Coffee?” Willow asked, ignoring both Toni and Jenny’s jibes. If it was possible the mention of coffee seemed to have perked her up even more, and she’d already been pretty perky.

“Coffee,” Jenny said – leading her husband in the direction of the nearest coffee shop without waiting for them to part.

It was the one Tara had always gone to when she’d been working at City Hall – just across the street from the Court house. Now it was off any of their usual routes, at least during opening hours. She wasn’t sure the last time she’d been in.

The muffins had always been to die for though.

Jenny was a self-confessed caffeine addict and that was what was leading this charge. But though the teacher was addicted she handled it better than Willow, who still maintained she merely enjoyed it and that no, she didn’t have an addictive personality.

It was more than ‘enjoyed’ though. Willow loved her coffee too, but the highs and lows of the caffeine hit her harder than they did Jenny.

Even when there was no caffeine – which was just bizarre. To see her girlfriend get hyper after a decaf… that was just weird.

It was like it was psychological for Willow. Or a placebo effect. Something like that anyway. When Willow had just had a decaf she could be as hopped up and as alert – often manifesting itself with her mouth running on into babble – as if she’d had a cup of ultra-caffeine loaded Java.

But figuring out the inner workings of Willow Rosenberg was something Tara had long ago concluded was a life’s work. And she intended to see it through.

*Tea for one?* Toni suggested to the male member of the group, walking backwards as they talked.

“Certainly,” Rupert agreed.

*I don’t know how you can drink it,* Toni went on as Tara watched the conversation unfold. Toni and Rupert had done this ‘discussion’ before – they all had – and it’d soon be just Rupert and Toni arguing about the merits.

It wasn’t so much tea Toni was against as especially tea. Tea she didn’t understand, though she was just as firmly against coffee now.

“It’s rather soothing actually,” Rupert pointed out. “And very refreshing.”

*It’s soothing because you need a hit. It’s refreshing because your body’s relieved to get some. And don’t even start about thirst quenching – it dries your body out.*

“As that may be,” Rupert agreed. “At least it’s civilised.”

Aha. Here they went.

Fortunately Tara didn’t think this coffee shop was the kind of place you’d get lynched for a) asking for and drinking English tea or b) decrying the benefits of caffeine to a normal person who wasn’t super-athlete girl. Still, she was glad Toni was talking in sign, just in case.

Some people could get very touchy about their caffeine.

“Dear heart, if you want civilised you can do it by holding the door for all us ladies,” Jenny told him firmly as they came to entrance.

Not that Rupert wouldn’t have held it open anyway, but he had the grace to look duly chastised by his wife as he dashed ahead and held door for them all, as well as some other departing customers.

“Paying would be super-civilised,” Willow added hopefully as they passed him.

Willow hadn’t had chance to draw any money out of the bank this morning so Tara knew she’d have been paying for Willow if Rupert wasn’t, but being as it was obviously a coffee drinkers revenge on the English heathen she wasn’t going to interfere with it.

There was a reason they’d thrown tea in the water at Boston and not coffee. One was kind of rank and the other… probably hadn’t been in the country then.

“Don’t I always pay?” he asked pointedly.

Yes, they always paid. One way or another, they all always paid when Jenny was around. And not just in financial terms. Tara loved Jenny as a friend, but she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to live with her all this time. It just went to show what a deep seated need this English librarian had to submit himself to his wife’s tongue.

Okay… that was all wrong in her head. Note to self. Never, ever, say that out loud without significant modification.

Moving into the shop they found themselves a table, and all of a sudden Rupert was just stood there beside them, waiting for someone to come and help him probably. Everyone looked up and smiled. “So I’ll be serving you too will I?”

Tara looked up at him and blushed, about to go to help, but found Willows hand firmly around her wrist holding her there. Oh yes, Willow was bearing a grudge. Dare to suggest only tea was civilised would he?

“That’d be lovely,” Jenny told him. “I think you know what we all want.”

“It’s very civilised of you,” Willow said weakly, finding some guilt within her.

“Yes, isn’t it?” he asked. “And yes, I believe I know what you all want,” he replied with a wry smile borne of long practise. “Toni?”

*Water. Please.*

Ah, the health fascist. Toni wouldn’t let caffeine pass her lips very often – at least not in coffee. Which was strange because she was willing to drink Diet Coke and other things that were laced with it. Just not from the most common sources.

Tara was sure it was more about the fact it was a drug to Toni. One of her coaches had said something to her probably, and it’d stuck with her. She didn’t want to be addicted to anything.

Good for her though. Tara wasn’t a fan of the headaches that came in the days after a major studying/hunting blitz where she drank too much for her own good. Even if it was just to stay awake.

But then wasn’t Toni addicted to the running?

That’d be a big yes.

She might even be getting addicted to Mal.

Besides Toni was just making a point right now, setting herself up in opposition to all of them – even today. There was something in her that clearly said ‘I am a teenager – expect me to rebel.’

It wasn’t like she was worried about Toni’s diet. Neither in terms of eating too much or too little, like too many of the other girls at her school.

Toni was happy to have a reasonable amount of sugary drinks, even some junk food, in addition to the meals they prepared for her. And she was burning off so much energy on a daily basis it’d never stick anyway.

Between Toni’s running and their use of magic, no one in their household was likely to put on the pounds. Not even if they were to eat Twinkies for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Now there was an idea that made her shudder.

With Rupert at the counter to place the order, Willow pulled her around – and once again something wasn’t getting signed. But it wasn’t getting heard either. Willow rested their foreheads together, looking right into her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said softly, keeping this just to them.

“What did I do?” Tara asked, liking the conversation already.

“You did the right thing.”

“For us? Or for Toni?” Tara wondered. She wasn’t so sure herself why she’d made the decision to do it right then. She wanted them to be the best people for Toni to be with. It felt like they probably were.

“Is there really a difference?” Willow wondered. They were so close that the heat of the air her words were carried on drifted over Tara’s face.

“Once there was. But maybe not anymore,” Tara said – barely able to stop herself from breaking out into a big silly grin.

It was even harder when Willow kissed her, full on the lips. Around her Tara was aware of a few people in the shop. This was drawing more attention than the sign language already had.

But she was only dimly aware of it all – her focus was in the emerald eyes of the woman she loved.

Deaf people and lesbians… always drew the looks.

“How’d she react?” Willow asked, not looking at Toni – just at her. Not wanting Toni to feel they were talking about her without signing. Even though they were for once. Not wanting to break away from their visual connection.

Tara could tell just how curious Willow was, and how happy, if only by virtue of the fact that her girlfriend really wasn’t that annoyed about her not waiting so they could ask Toni together.

It hadn’t been a spur of the moment decision either. Honestly, she thought it’d been better that way.

If Toni would say ‘yes’ to her then she’d definitely say ‘yes’ to them. But it was better that it’d been her that asked – just so Toni wouldn’t feel she was hurting Willow’s feelings or something if she’d wanted to say ‘no.’

And if it had happened that way, she could’ve dealt with that then without Willow having to worry about it.

So how had Toni reacted? “Surprised,” she answered after a moment’s consideration.

The very fact that the teenager had been surprised told Tara it’d been the right choice to approach her.

For whatever reason she and Toni clashed – there it was. They would again, she was sure. But the surprise – followed by the acceptance - also said Toni was as sure as they were that this was going to work for them.

Not that anyone was talking about adoption, at least not yet. It might not even be necessary given her age. By the time anything like that went through Toni could well be past the age she needed someone to be responsible for her.

But that was the future. What they were looking for now was to get rid of this almost informal – but monitored – arrangement and replace it with something more… well, formal. Not to mention long lasting

All that instead of the current almost informal arrangement. Toni was here mainly because there was no one better in the area to look after her given her communication needs.

Even though Judges and social services had already been involved, it was still somehow… uncertain though. Toni could be gone tomorrow – and not just because her Mom could be found.

Someone could just make decision and that would be that. Not that it was likely, but Tara had felt – and the others had agreed – it couldn’t be good for any of them for things to be that temporary and uncertain. Toni, most of all, needed the stability.

Even months on, Sunnydale Social Services were still in a mess after the revelation of the vampire’s nest, all the people who’d been trapped down there. A lot of orphans had been found, some of whom didn’t even know where they came from and hadn’t been missed by anyone outside the town so they couldn’t be sent back.

The papers said that in one night the number of kids needing permanent care of some kind or another had doubled. No one was set up to deal with that kind of influx and they couldn’t really be blamed for it.

The system had been deluged and it hadn’t been that well-funded to start with. If it hadn’t been for that whole situation they probably wouldn’t have been left with Toni at all… but as it was they’d done the right thing.

Now they were just trying to do the same again. And it had to be right – if Toni had said ‘yes’ as she had.

The trouble was that going and telling the Judge wasn’t the right way to go about sorting these matters out. And she’d told them so – even if she’d been nice about it.

“Surprised shocked, or surprised wheeeee?” Willow asked about Toni’s reaction.

“Both, I guess.”

A broad smile broke out over Willow’s face once again. “I wish I’d seen it.”

“I wish I’d waited for you,” Tara replied, while they were wishing.

“Really?”

“In some ways,” she admitted. “It’s the kind of thing you always think you’d do together.” And that was her one regret – necessary as talking to Toni alone had seemed at the time.

“Yeah.”

“Mad at me?” Tara asked.

Willow made a play of thinking about it. “Only a little,” she concluded. “It’s good news. Too good to be mad at you really – and I know you only did it that way because you had the chance and thought it was the right thing. I know you’d never exclude me, or keep anything from me.”

That was it. That was it exactly. Willow always got it.

“And because I knew you’d never be able to keep your mouth shut till we could do it together,” Tara teased.

“Hey! Still mad at you here,” Willow said pointedly. “Just a little anyway.”

But people who were mad at each other didn’t sit so close with their legs virtually entwined, foreheads and lips alternating being the part of them that physically connected.

“Oh, I can tell,” Tara breathed – still speaking softly.

“Good – don’t you forget it either,” Willow backed up the instruction with a kiss.

Tara could take warnings like that all day. “How mad are you then?”

Willow held up a her finger and thumb, just about far enough apart to be tweaking a nipple, though that probably wasn’t what she’d judged it on.

Or it might’ve been. Sometimes their thoughts spilled over through their connection, Willow could’ve been thinking that and so she had too.

Or she might just have gotten a dirty mind from someone not a million miles away from her now.

“Sorry love,” Tara said again. “I promise to be very attentive to make up for it.”

“Then, of course, you’re forgiven,” Willow told her, like a benevolent goddess.

“Thank you sweetie.”

“Just so long as you promise to wear dress all businessy for me again,” the goddess said, changing the bargain. “I kind of think it’s hot.”

“Oh, I think that can be arranged,” Tara said, underlining it with another kiss.

So they were into dress-up now? At least it was nothing too unusual… Besides, she could see how it might kind of be fun and if Willow thought it was ‘hot’… She was never afraid of new things with Willow at her side.

Or under her.

Not forgetting over her.

She didn’t have time to ask Willow about where those thoughts were going to lead them as Rupert gave put the coffee’s down and Tara realised two things.

First that everyone else at the table was looking at them.

Second that their voices probably weren’t as low as they thought they were.

Then, a moment later, she also noticed that she wasn’t the only thing Willow was addicted to. Her girlfriend was enjoying that coffee just a little too much.

But what could she do?

Only kiss the woman she loved, coffee lips or not.

-------------------------

“I guess this sets the cat amongst the pigeons?” Tara said as she undressed for bed that night.

Miss Kitty, sat in the rocking chair in the corner of their bedroom, perked up immediately. Willow wasn’t fooled into thinking that it was anything to do with ‘cats’ and everything to do with creatures with feathers.

Poor little birdies. Miss Kitty did like to leave little – and not so little – gifts for them – usually of the feathered variety. The one time they’d thought about putting a bell for her... It hadn’t gone so well.

Willow was already lying in bed, first through the bathroom as usual while Tara did her usual rounds of the wards that had been long since set to protect the apartment. It was like a ritual. No one could damage the wards – Willow herself would really have to think and try to deactivate them. And that was from the inside.

But some habits died hard. Tara never forgot.

But the habit usually gave her a few minutes to get washed, undressed and get in bed before Tara was ready to get undressed. And while Tara got ready for bed they usually had the conversations that often seemed to sum up the day.

The pleasures of watching Tara undress… the way the muscles in her back moved as she reached back to unfasten her bra… the way she bent to pick up her shoes… The gradual encroachment of nudity that would be covered rather faster once Tara was ready to put on her nightdress.

Naturally the visual treat was nothing to do with it why she valued these few minutes between being up and being in bed.

Nothing at all to do with it.

No ma’am, that didn’t do a thing for her.

Even thought she was always so very attentive.

“Cat?” Willow wondered aloud, noting that Miss Kitty didn’t react at all.

“Well, being as we asked Toni, I mean.”

Ah, back to that were they? It had been the biggest thing of the day.

“You asked Toni,” she pointed out.

“Okay, I asked. For us,” Tara clarified. “If this all goes ahead then… Do you think we can still think about leaving Sunnydale?”

Willow thought about that for just a moment, and the question she came up with was, “Do you want to leave Sunnydale?” Were they thinking about the same things?

“You know where I stand on all that,” Tara said. “I wasn’t sure we could but then I thought that, you know… maybe we could and now I’m all maybe we can’t again. If we have to think about Toni too, I mean. We can’t drag her off East with us – rip her out of school and away from her friends. Not again.”

“And Mal,” Willow pointed out. Let’s not be forgetting Mal. The rest she didn’t think Toni would be all that bothered about. “Besides, there’s Jenny, Rupert, my Dad… the kids.”

“All of that,” Tara agreed, turning to face her.

Somehow the subject had moved Willow enough to barely be aware of Tara’s nudity, and then it was gone, hidden beneath the satin nightdress she loved to feel against her as they held each other.

Okay, it was less about the holding and more about the moving her hand over it.

“It’d be hard to take her away from,” Willow admitted. She had no real idea what she’d wanted to do. She’d been struggling with this for weeks and soon she was going to have to make a decision.

Stay or go.

Now… things were more complicated.

Or maybe they were simpler.

Tara nodded, padding over to the bed and drawing back the covers on her side, she paused. “And there’s all the stuff that’s going on with us. The hunting – responsibility…”

“Yeah, there is that,” Willow recognised it was true. Just because she didn’t like it… Oh she didn’t mind hunting – actually it was very gratifying to be keeping everyone safe. What she minded was the idea that this was their life and that couldn’t change. Not for school, not for work.

Not for them to think about their own children.

That was what she hated. But until they made that decision, she’d be enthusiastic girl about the hunting and the responsibility.

What did this change then?

Was Tara hoping she’d come round? Because of Toni? Was this a way of having her say the status quo should stay? Tara knew she’s been seriously considering schools that were… away. As well as UC Sunnydale. Stay and their lives wouldn’t have really changed.

Go and everything would be different. The future would open up… She’d been trying to keep that out of her head. It wasn’t a good reason to choose a school. But it was still a reason, even if it wasn’t the right one.

It hadn’t stayed out of her head though. Deciding where she wanted to do her post-grad studies – where she could do them – she’d been seriously considering a lot of things… including one day…

Including the idea that maybe Toni wouldn’t be the only person they’d be responsible for. And that was something that’d be on hold if they were successful in looking after Toni on a more permanent basis. Even though it’d always looked like coming after school.

If at all.

She wasn’t even sure if she wanted it… but as she’d told Tara before – she did want that chance for them. She wanted the choice. Responsibility and duty be damned. Let someone else do that – or they’d find a way to work round it.

But she didn’t want to decide something now that sealed their futures forever more – in any respect.

No matter what she thought, Willow believed Tara would support whatever her decision was – about that, about school and transfer her own teacher training course. They’d make it work. So was it unworthy to wonder whether this was a way Tara could keep them here? Keep things the same because she thought she had a responsibility and duty that she could never pass on?

No, it wasn’t unworthy to wonder. It’d just be unworthy to believe it.

It wasn’t like Tara had just chosen to ask Toni all by herself – they’d talked about it at length. They’d been going to do it anyway, that was what they’d agreed.

And it was the best thing for Toni – they all believed that.

The only thing they’d had to make sure of was that Rupert and Jenny didn’t want to try for sole custody themselves and they hadn’t seemed to. Their own kids were enough of a handful and the way Jenny was talking… she might not be done being pregnant.

Willow didn’t think they were already trying, but she knew for sure Jenny wasn’t taking any precautions to prevent any little accidents turning into a blessed event. And if that happened they’d have to look to move – just for their own direct family needs. Let alone Toni.

The Giles’ had done what they’d done for Toni and for them, and that was why she and Tara were determined to keep too much of the burden from falling back to them.

“I guess…” Willow paused, curling her arm over her girlfriend and stroking satin covered skin. “I need to look at the applications packs and see when the deadline is.”

She had to make a decision, but as they’d told her that very morning even Faith was better at making decisions than she was. Could she stop being afraid of the choices and just choose?

She had to.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured – you still have choices,” Tara told her.

“I know,” Willow said, kissing her girlfriends shoulder. “I know we do.”

*****************

[Katharyn]

Hi Kittens, sorry for the teeny delay in posting the next part but life has been in the way. It should be posted today or tomorrow.

Not that anyone seems to have read the last one yet!

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - You Can’t Always Have What You Want (Part 197)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Katharynrosser1@hotmail.co.uk Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: A look at what’s happening in LA at Wolfram & Hart.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: This is a more detailed look at the workings of the law firm and the politics therein and I’m happier with that. I think it’s going to lend a little more depth to who Lilah has become – or been made into – and really show where it is she’s coming from. Oh, and the character Matt and how I wrote him. Let’s not just say it’s not my appreciation of Lilah, but his that’s on the page. In the past some readers thought I really liked Lilah. I just like the character! How Lilah sees herself, or others see her doesn’t reflect my feelings on her! You’ll see what I mean. In fact Matt is so far to the other end of the scale I thought about rewriting him. It’s not nice – but he’s not a nice guy.
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

You Can’t Always Have What You Want

By

Katharyn Rosser



The tentative knock wasn’t going to be seen as a good thing. It’d be taken as a sign of weakness and rightly so.

Matt winced even as the echo was sounding in the office beyond, and it didn’t get better on the second rap. No one knocked that softly. If you knocked at all then it had to be a clear – ‘you need to see me now’ knock.

They taught you that here.

His knock had actually said something more like, ‘if you have a moment, any time that suits you in the next five years then I’d appreciate it if I could speak to you. If you like. Maybe. Or I could just go away. Yes, perhaps it’s best you ignore me entirely.’

That was what his knock said.

Justin’s knock wouldn’t have been so wimpy and half-assed. Justin would already be in there slapping the file down on the desk, telling what needed to be told and then making a polite but firm withdrawal to go and get on with what the firm needed him to be doing.

These things counted.

It was murder at this firm just to get taken on as an associate.

Literally.

And once you were in that superior group… then things got serious.

He’d taken the view that doing a stint as a paralegal for this firm was worth an associateship anywhere else. So had Justin and several others though. So here he was, still trying to bridge the gap from recruitment out of law school to even having a shot an associateship.

There were only so many places to go around.

His feeble knock didn’t mean he was weak though. Neither in demeanour, nor in performance.

He was seriously thinking of having his great rival, Justin, killed. It was an acceptable method of securing a position. There were rumours it was actually expected nowadays. This was the twenty-first century. The old idea of taking on associates out of law school had been largely dropped by Wolfram and Hart.

Now things got serious a whole lot sooner in your career. And ‘serious’ meant ‘deadly’ around here.

Just so long as you personally made the grade, the firm was perfectly happy to support you in securing your future. If a rival was incompetent enough to let themselves be killed then that was just Darwinism in action.

Survival of the fittest.

Justin had already made that grade – virtually guaranteed to get a slot so the office grapevine was saying. But Matt wasn’t so sure about himself. He knew he still came across as meek and clumsy, something he’d never been in his whole school and college career.

Captain of the football team at every level. Varsity wrestler.

He’d even done a school play once – even though it’d been to show his sensitive side to Kristy Wilson. And it hadn’t sucked. At least hehadn’t sucked.

At school and college he’d been the all around, clean cut American hero. And he’d had confidence in his intelligence. As had the firm or they wouldn’t have taken him on at all.

He’d never been meek until he’d come here and met her.

“For god’s sake get in here,” the strong female voice called from inside, setting the hairs on the back of his neck to an upright posture.

She had a way of doing that to him – and he wasn’t sure she even knew she was doing it. In a way he hoped she did. At least that would imply actual awareness of his existence as something other than a microbe she encountered from time to time and did the leg work on her cases.

He opened the door, dropping the file as he did. Fortunately papers didn’t all scatter everywhere. So there was a stroke of luck. Before he bent to pick them he saw her sigh. Which, of course, would’ve made her breasts move so beautifully, and he’d missed it while he was picking the papers up.

Damn it!

“Ahmm… You asked to be updated if any legal matter were progressed,” Matt said trying not to stare at the vision of loveliness when he straightened up.

He’d never been afraid of a woman realising his interest in her until he’d met her either. Usually he’d make it very clear, let them think about it before he started to flirt with them. Saved time if they already knew what they wanted.

But this was no ordinary woman.

“You might’ve noticed, this is a law firm, we progress legal matters all the time,” she told him impatiently “What’s your name anyway?”

She didn’t even know his name.

Great.

Things were just looking better and better for him weren’t they? Just yesterday he’d seen her laughing and joking with Justin as they shared a sandwich at lunch time.

Shared a sandwich.

He was sure she knew Justin’s name.

Justin was really good at making himself known, and in a good way. And unlike his rival, Matt had a way of making himself known as a klutz and forgettable at the same time – or so it appeared.

“Matt,” he told her. “Matthew. I mean. Matt if you want to call me that. Or… Perkins.”

“This is a law firm, Matt. We’re always progressing legal matters. It’s what we do. What are you talking about?”

She’d used his name… his shortened name that he preferred. Not Matthew, not Perkins. She’d called him Matt. And the way her lips moved as she said the word… He sighed, and perhaps she misinterpreted it, took it as impatience with her. As if he’d dare to show that.

“Umm,” he looked at the contents of the paper file, trying to find the next thing to say. He didn’t trouble himself as to why this hadn’t just been flagged on her system and brought to her attention here on her screen. If it had… he wouldn’t have had this chance to see her again, to meet her needs. “Sunnydale. You know, now that I look at the classifications on this file…”

The file could well be stored this way for a reason.

She wasn’t supposed to see it was she?

Now what was he supposed to do?

“Hmm?” she wondered, and he hadn’t missed the flicker of an expression that had crossed her face when he’d mentioned that… what was it? A town? He thought he knew where it was, even though he’d definitely heard of it. It was up north somewhere.

Or south.

‘Not in LA’ was as far as tended to go to classify these piss-ant little places. But he had other things to worry about than where it was.

“Now I think about it, um… I’m not sure I should be passing it to you,” he told her, rushing the words out after his original hesitation and deliberation. How could he have made such an amateurish mistake? Perhaps because he was still an amateur and desperately trying to become a professional.

Like her.

Or at least not to be the ‘new kid.’ The one everyone expected to fail and, at best, get booted out of here.

It was easily explained – he was sure security would understand when he told them how he’d brought this file to her by mistake. It certainly shouldn’t be an audit issue.

Naturally he’d never considered that anyone at her level would be excluded from any file that even he was allowed to see. Why would she be? He could go his entire career and consider it enormously successful if he didn’t get half as far in the firm as she had. Her monthly salary would probably pay off all his college debts.

Why wouldn’t she be allowed to see a file that he could? It made no sense.

And the less sense it made, the more it suggested it was a really bad idea to let her have this update to the main file. Someone would be really pissed if that were to happen. But surely it wouldn’t be an audit issue… Surely not…

Oh, who was he kidding? The orientation for this place was always held on an audit day. After they’d showed you where the fire exit and first-aid people were – they showed you the results of an audit.

There’d been blood on the walls – and something that looked like brains and bone on the floor, even though the bodies had been removed.

Audit day always heralded redecoration too.

He was dead. He was fucking dead if he gave her this… unless… Maybe she’d protect him?

“Then you shouldn’t have come here with it, should you?” she asked rhetorically.

Of course he shouldn’t have come here! His desperation to impress her, to look efficient and helpful was going to get him fired.

Or worse.

Probably worse.

Blood on the walls type stuff.

“So tell me,” she instructed and there was no way around such an instruction. No way at all.

He could turn her down and end up dead tonight, and she’d still get to read it.

He could run to his supervising associate and land her in trouble with Ms Morgan as well – and they’d probably both end up dead tonight.

He could hand over the file and then run for the hills – maybe to one of those piss-ant towns outside the city. It might take them a couple of days to find him then, but ultimately the result was the same. He’d certainly never be able to work as a lawyer, even if he stayed alive.

Or he could hand it over, stay… Then try to earn her trust and see if she’d protect him for that loyalty. At the very least the next office audit wasn’t use until September. That was a few months more life than he’d have if he turned her down flat.

Justin would never have gotten in this mess.

But Justin didn’t have something she wanted.

Insanely the fear was getting to him – the fear and the intoxicating sight of her. It was affecting him in ways that, if she realised, would probably result in consequences of the audit look merciful and pleasant.

He was in her hands as soon as he’d mentioned the word Sunnydale – let alone if gave it to her. In her hands…

Could he deny it if he got the file back from her and replaced it in the records office tonight? If he just told her what she wanted to know?

Could he ask her to let him do that? Would she value his life enough to agree?

What other choice did he have?

“It’s… ah… Legal proceedings on behalf of Miss T Maclay and Miss W Rosenberg, residents of Sunnydale, in the matter of obtaining a formal care order for one Antonia Alessi who is already in their care. It’s… uhm… currently under a temporary order granted by a local judge following the death of her father in a… vampire related incident.” He flicked through the papers, checking there wasn’t anything else.

That was enough… surely?

Hmm, that was where he’d heard of Sunnydale. It’d made the news a few months back and the office had been full of the real story, the vampires in the sewers. Farming humans they said.

Fucking vampires, he hated them.

Someone had cleaned them out and he hadn’t shed any tears over that.

He wondered if he’d already said too much because the way she’d reacted to that first name… It wasn’t a sign of interest. It was… He felt like he was in a lioness’ den and she was feeling hungry. He felt like he did when a vampire came into the office and looked at him.

In orientation they’d said it was an inbuilt mammal’s reaction to the presence of a predator.

“Hmm, I don’t recognise the name, she isn’t a player,” He’d made sure to get know the name of as many ‘players’ as he could – it had seemed the most prudent way of avoiding embarrassing office faux-pas.

In that research he’d certainly run across the names of the two women wanted to get the order for this Antonia. Rumour had it they’d been the one to clean out those sewers.

Just the two of them.

But he was sure there hadn’t been anything about the girl herself.

“Of course she’s not a player – there are very few players who need a care order,” Lilah chided him.

She had him there.

“The temporary – sorry interim – order was granted to them along with a Mr and Mrs Giles of the same town,” he revealed – pleased nothing in that sentence could make a fool of him. “He’s a librarian and belongs to the Watcher’s Council, she’s a school teacher.” He flicked to the indicated page. “On maternity leave at the moment. Doesn’t seem to be anything special about her apart from genuine Romany lineage.”

And that lineage could be quite powerful – though nothing that would usually concern Wolfram and Hart. To all intents and purposes the teacher was a mundane.

“That’s all very interesting. Thank you.” She smiled at him. Actually smiled at him. “You can be sure I know how to make the best use of this, Matt,” she said.

All he could hear was his name coming from her mouth again. Those luscious lips. She’d remembered his name… and used it. She even seemed pleased by his work!

On the other hand – this was information she wasn’t supposed to have. Someone had forbidden it to her – and that someone had to be very high up. Someone very powerful. And they’d have their reasons. He'd been the one to ignore the prohibition.

But she’d still used his name and there was time to get the papers back into the system before morning. It wasn’t like he wasn’t supposed to have them – just her. There was still nothing concrete to tie this update file to her – certainly not via him. Was there?

“Hmm, you might want to check with Mr Manners?” he suggested finding out just who’d placed the prohibition on her with all things to do with Sunnydale. The name of the man who’d probably have his contract terminated for this.

If he found out.

Perhaps if he could talk to her a little, prevent her from misusing the information. Or making it obvious she had it at all…

Putting the update file back wouldn’t be any use if she showed everyone that she knew what’d been in it…

“Oh? Why?” The questions were asked mildly. Just two words… but filled with such danger. He knew he’d made a mistake.

Another mistake.

“He… ahh…” Matt wracked his memory for what he’d been dealing with for Mr Manners. And for the code that had been applied to this file.

Operational Projects Prohibition. That was it. That had implications she should understand.

“He has projects in Sunnydale and you wouldn’t want to – well, you wouldn’t want him to step on your toes if the situations were reversed,” he said, adjusting the phrase to suit the situation and her ego. To make it sound as if she’d just be returning a professional courtesy Mr Manners would extend to her.

And what toes they’d be. Shown off beautifully by those oh-so-expensive ‘fuck me’ shoes she usually wore but he couldn’t see at the moment. She could walk all over him in shoes like that.

God… what was she doing to him? Ever since he’d seen her he’d been a klutz. A meek, eager to please paralegal instead of an up and coming potential associate. She was going to get him killed… and she’d only just found out his name.

She held out her hand and he walked over to her desk, passing it to her. Praying he’d get it back in time and then not even caring as her fingers touched his. It was like an electric shock ran through him when their skin touched.

Right from the tips of his fingers to the tip of something else… and Oh My God it was stirring.

He didn’t even have the wherewithal to think about how the touch clearly hadn’t done a thing for her… It was all one way traffic.

Lilah flicked through the update file, pausing occasionally to pay more attention to some part of it. Why’d he been so helpful to pull together the background information that came with the update?

He’d probably given her even more that she shouldn’t have been told.

“Indeed, we wouldn’t want anyone stepping on toes.” She held up a large photo of the young dark-haired girl who was the subject of the court appeal. “Bring me everything we can get on this girl. And any of her relatives. Alive or dead.”

“Yes,” he said without thinking. “Of course.”

What else could he say? He’s suggested that she speak to Mr Manners and that was his choice. He’d be dead by dawn if he said ‘no’ to her as well.

“Bring me what we already have available now,” she said looking at the picture carefully. “But then put out a request for everything else you can get your hands on. But do it in your name.”

In his name?

No one was even going to find the body…

And obscenely the idea of serving her, making himself invaluable, only caused him to stir more. Obeying her was the only way he could save his own life, probably, but it’d keep him closer to her too.

To be useful, efficient… her conduit to things she wanted to know…

For whatever period of his life he had left, he had something on her. He had leverage and he hardly dared wonder where that might take him. As long as he was more useful working for her than in pieces…

“May I ask why?” he asked. Then he realised that he really didn’t want that to sound like another challenge to her authority. “I mean… I’m here to learn and you’d certainly get more information in your own name…”

Lilah didn’t need him for this. She could just run a search… couldn’t she? She knew how the system worked and how to get around it – she’d done his job not so many years ago. She’d been new once too. She must’ve known the fear he knew now.

“You can ask,” she said.

Which, of course, meant ‘don’t.’

She turned in her chair and all he could see was the long expanse of her legs from those fuck-me shoes he’d suspected she’d be wearing up to the hem of her skirt knee length, riding higher than that when she was sat down.

How was he supposed to focus with that kind of distraction?

Perhaps a more pertinent question was how was he supposed to focus on work?

Did she even know what she was doing to him? He’d never been this way around girls before. But there wasn’t anything girlish about her. Not like the girls at college, or anyone he’d dated before he started here. She was perhaps the first woman he’d wanted in his life.

And she was going to get him killed without even knowing.

His body knew it that she could be fatal, and it didn’t care. Did she know though? Wouldn’t she suspect?

“I don’t want to cause offence,” Matt tried to explain, shifting awkwardly and holding the file envelope in position to hide what was happening to him. “It’s just that I did some work for Mr Manners and I know… I mean I remember now where I saw that security code… You’re not supposed to…”

“Get involved in Sunnydale?” she suggested, smiling gently at him.

He nodded, feeling like the inexperienced child she was treating him as.

Naïve. That must be how she saw him, and perhaps she wasn’t wrong.

“You want to learn?” she asked mildly, too mildly for it to be anything but an act.

“Yes,” he assured her. He wanted to learn and, maybe, to put his body under the point of those heels she wore. Learning would do for now – she couldn’t even remember his name at the moment. Learning would do – at least it’d be around her.

“Do you want to know how to please me?” she asked, glancing at the file envelope he was holding to cover the bulge in his pants.

Of course she knew what she did to him. She was a woman – that was the whole point.

A few months of life… working with her. And in his dreams perhaps more. Better than letting her end it now. It’d only take a call to have him terminated – because she wouldn’t do it herself. Why dirty her hands with something so trivial?

“Yes,” he said again.

“Then you need to know when to shut up Matt – it’s the best place to start,” she said. “Now, go and do what I asked you to do. Or – if you want – go and see Mr Manners and tell him all about this conversation. I’m sure he’ll appreciate your candour.”

He didn’t have to hesitate. “I’ll get right on with it – I mean what you asked for.”

How much of it was fear and how much was his desire to please her he wouldn’t ever be able to figure out. But… he’d do it for her anyway. When it came to Ms Morgan fear and desire were very much the same thing – and seemed to have the same effect on him.

“And while you’re about it, bring me everything you can find on the current projects in Sunnydale,” she instructed. “At least the details you have access to. We do want to protect my toes don’t we?” She re-crossed her legs, pointing her foot at him, as she made the joke and he wondered – for a moment – how far she’d go to get what she wanted from him.

Further than she was doing now and not as far as he’d like her to, he was sure.

“If you have any problems come back to me, and I’ll show you ways around the system,” she offered, still looking at the file picture of that young girl. What was so special about her to make her worthy of all this?

And what was so special about Sunnydale for Ms Morgan? Why would she be locked out of it?

“Thank you,” he managed, moving awkwardly away to hide his bulge. Did she understand that she could do anything she wanted to him?

Probably.

She certainly knew she could use her sexuality against him, just look at her… all skirts and legs and perfectly respectable – if slightly revealing - businesswear. She was tantalising him and controlling him in one outfit.

And the thing was he really didn’t care.

-----------------------

Lilah tapped her Mont Blanc pen on the leather bound organiser, thinking on what had just happened.

No one else knew, but the organiser had been bound in the skin of her first rival here at the firm. Even before that weakling Lindsay. A poor unfortunate young woman called…

What had she been called?

Jane?

Julie?

Something that began with ‘J’ anyway.

If you looked carefully you could still see the dolphin tattoo that’d once been at the small of her the woman’s back. And below it a letter ‘J.’

Today behaviour like that wouldn’t raise an eyelid, such an object lesson might almost be expected, but back then – if she’d been shown to be that ruthless the other associates would’ve united against her and that would’ve been that. No more Lilah Morgan.

Maybe it was a stylised ‘L’ though, she mused as she looked at it – really looked at it – for the first time in years.

It was one of the many things she’d forgotten over time. Once she’d worried about those gaps in her memory – but they’d told her it wasn’t anything she should concern herself with. It was long gone; Jane/Julie wasn’t coming back. Even if her name had been Lucy, it didn’t change how dead she was.

Lilah was much more concerned about what they weren’t telling her today than what she’d forgotten about the past.

Special Projects were a law unto themselves, much as she’d argued against it since her promotion. But Holland was too entrenched; his powerbase and supporters too widespread to move directly to curtail that power and get access to what she needed.

Sunnydale.

She didn’t give a damn about that half-baked excuse for a town. Not even about the Hellmouth that sat at the heart of it – supposedly where Special Projects’ interest lay. All she cared about was it being where Tara Maclay still lived.

‘Lived’ being the root of the problem.

Actually she was more interested in Tara Maclay alive. She couldn’t take everything Tara valued away from her unless she was alive. Pain didn’t register unless there was still a beating heart.

Or if Tara killed herself trying to keep those painful events from happening. Fine…

Perhaps she’d even get a new organiser out of it. Or at least the binding. She didn’t think Tara Maclay would have a tattoo to mar the effect. But she’d been wrong before.

Why she hated Tara Maclay, Lilah wasn’t exactly sure anymore. It was another of those things she’d lost, but this was one memory she certainly wanted back. When the hatred was so powerful she had to know why.

She’d had the files searched. Every record her clearance would give her access to. Every record her staff could get access to.

And everything had been removed. It wasn’t even on the computers. Holland had the paper records somewhere, locked away and inaccessible outside of the main archives.

So it’d struck her.

New information couldn’t be taken away immediately and hidden by her former mentor. New information had to be processed and passed through the levels and then Holland would get a hold of it. Only then could he do anything about keeping it from her.

All she had to do was intercept any incoming news linked to certain flagged names, words and phrases…

Matt had been the perfect person for that opportunity and he’d come through for her tonight. Not only that, he’d been dim enough to carry on even after he’d realised his mistake.

Dim or devoted?

Oh, she knew what he really wanted.

He wanted her. In his head he had some kind of fantasy that he was probably off playing out in the restroom right now. She wasn’t at all unaware of his attraction to her. Actually she was pleased with it. It never hurt to have leverage, and sexual attraction was the oldest leverage in the book.

Matt was inexperienced – and male – enough to fall for it too.

He was disposable enough to utilise until his employment was terminated.

And he was potentially devoted enough – if she strung him along – to be personally loyal to her when the time came for someone to take the fall.

He might even resist some mild interrogation thinking he was earning her respect. And would they really bother with a full TP mind-probe audit for him? He was barely worth more pain than the head of building security knew how to inflict.

Finally, if somehow Matt survived this – if somehow he prospered, then it was always useful to cultivate allies.

No, not allies… loyal subordinates.

So what if one day it might even be necessary to sleep with him? She wouldn’t balk at it if it had to be done. She’d already done much more loathsome things for this firm, and even enjoyed them.

On a purely physical level she’d probably enjoy him, but she had a sense his desires ran to things more extreme than she personally favoured. He probably wouldn’t be able to perform without having his fantasies about her fulfilled. He struck her as that type.

It wasn’t like she needed him for the long term. She already had his great rival in her pocket.

“What did you think of that?” she asked as Justin stepped in from the adjoining office.

“I think he wants you,” he summarised, moving to stand behind her. Lilah knew he was looking over her shoulder at the file he had unwillingly left behind.

“Probably,” she said, not making a point of the bulge in Matt’s pants that had confirmed it. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“He’s not too bright,” Justin tried.

“If he was stupid he wouldn’t be here,” Lilah said. “And that’s not what I meant either. Besides, I didn’t think you were interested in his brains.”

Justin said nothing and she knew she’d hit a nerve. Manipulating this one was much simpler and much less nebulous than with Matt, where the desires of the human body were paramount. Justin’s desires lay in the same direction as hers did. Towards men.

So working with him was a mental, rather than a seductive, exercise.

Justin was here with her after hours because he recognised where the future lay. She was the future of this office. Holland Manners, for all his extensive contacts across many offices and clients, was rapidly becoming the past and no one else at their level was even a factor.

Defending Champion Holland Manners vs. the Newcomer Lilah Morgan. Not quite the demon pit fights she so enjoyed watching, but nonetheless enthralling for all.

Justin was looking into the long-term, and all he saw staring back at him was… her.

Smart boy. Handsome too – in a way she’d have preferred over the jock-like qualities of Matt. Shame really.

“What’s in Sunnydale?” he asked as he read the papers from behind her. “Besides one of our oldest clients and an unfortunate dimensional breach?”

She pulled the papers away from the photograph. The picture of Antonia Alessi. She tapped it with her pen. “This girl.”

“Who is she?” he asked. “Is she important?”

“She is to them,” Lilah mused, mostly to herself.

Looking at the pictures of the four guardians, she felt a flicker of emotion – more than a flicker – when she glanced at Tara Maclay’s. Hate was an emotion. “Which is reason enough to see they don’t get what they want.”

Justin didn’t ask questions. He didn’t wonder how that tied into the firm’s business, or where the billing was going to be directed to. He didn’t even ask if the girl could have some value to them.

At least he didn’t wonder those things aloud.

Instead he just asked a very simple question. “What do you want done?”

He’d have them all killed – or at least he’d try to arrange it. She knew it – she’d tested his willingness to go so far. The girl would just be the easiest one. Whoever he could hire would have more difficulty with the witches.

Was it a coincidence that ‘Witches’ and ‘Bitches’ were almost the same word?

But while he would do it, their death wasn’t what she wanted. At least not yet.

“Keep out of Matt’s way, even he’ll suspect something if he finds you sniffing around this too.”

“But I should keep an eye on him?” Justin checked.

She turned to him in her chair, a smile touching her lips. “Don’t you always?”

“You know what I mean.”

Another smile.

“I wonder what you’ll do if one day I have to do…” she gestured to the door where Matt had departed.

“I’m not foolish enough to believe he’d ever want me, Lilah,” he said. “He’s not wired that way.”

The edge of anger in his voice told her it wouldn’t be okay with him though. It was also betrayed by the familiarity he showed in using her given name. She let it go though – for now he had his uses and while Matt would probably have welcomed punishment...

Justin was cut from a different cloth. Matt was desperately trying to prove he even existed to her.

This one though… He wasn’t eager to please – he was efficient, and that was what she needed.

“But you want him all the same?” she asked.

This time he smiled. “Is it wrong to want what we can’t have?” She knew he was still talking about her attempts to seduce him, and she knew that’d never go beyond this office because he understood where the power lay. And once she’d established he was gay she’d given up the chase.

Better for him he was gay and refused her for that reason than simply turn her down.

She didn’t rise to his bait though. Instead she picked up the large picture of the girl with the pretty hair, her eyes flicking to the very familiar image of Tara Maclay that still lay on the desk. “No, wanting what you can’t have is exactly the lever we need to move this mountain.”

“So you do want something done to the girl?”

Lilah knew he’d arrange that too. No matter what it was she asked for. And if she didn’t specify… he’d be creative about it as well as efficient.

She had to admit it was tempting to do have something done but… there were better, more personal ways to get to her target. Ways that would mean Tara Maclay would understand exactly what was happening, and who was doing it to her.

“Absolutely not. You’re not to go anywhere near her. The girl’s mine to deal with. Just make sure you’re aware of where Matt is up to with this. And find me every living relative you can. Up to and including Great-Uncles in Timbuktu. I don’t have much faith in our mutual friend to get that part done. He doesn’t have the contacts.”

He nodded and understood it was his cue to leave, which he did without another word.

And as usual she watched his butt move as he left. Such a shame…

But the other thing with wanting what you couldn’t have – was finding a way to get it. There were still ways to get Justin into her bed.

Just as there were ways to get what she wanted in Sunnydale. Tara Maclay was going to find that out. The girl would just be the start.

She was going to strip away everything.

Tara’s friends, the respect of the people of the town. The girl they wanted to foster…

Her lover.

All of it.

And at every step Tara Maclay was going to know just who was doing that to her. Then, at the end, she’d force the younger woman to reveal to her just why she found she hated her so much.

---------------

Now this was his town. It was how things had used to be prior to nineteen-ninety two. It was… alive.

After weeks of building his strength and assimilating who he was now – not to mention long conversations with himself in the past and future – he was finally up and able to take in the town properly.

All of it.

When he’d last taken a stroll through the streets things had still been only starting to recover from the domination of the night by vampires – not to mention the population stresses such numbers of predators had caused.

Not precisely what he’d had in mind when he’d been drawing up the plans for Sunnydale over a century ago.

Certainly he’d understood the role of vampires in ensuring that his power could be maintained – a degree of fear and a judicious amount of success in alleviating that threat had always gone a long way to distracting people from the rather larger and more powerful inhabitants of the town. He’d even employed some of them over the years.

It wasn’t just the mystical residents that’d changed. Shortly before he’d died, he’d put a five year plan into place. After an afternoon looking through city records he’d discovered that they’d followed it largely without change. Good for them – good for the town. Sunnydale was what he’d always imagined it to be once again.

A lively community that was a place for people and families.

And nowhere near being ‘hip’ despite the presence of a greater number of young students from the college campus.

Hip was something he’d always sought to avoid. People wanted to live in a place that they could aspire to afford, yet their aspirations were built upon a realisation that what you really wanted was… nostalgia.

The modern became the dated rather quickly.

But the past became nostalgic and stayed that way. At worst you should only need to change the character of a place like this every couple of generations.

People wanted to live in a place that reminded them of the ideal homes they’d seen in their childhood – or these days that probably meant on TV.

The recovery of Sunnydale, like its birth, was the fruit of the tree he’d planted in the first place. Farmers were simple folk and it was how he’d started out his existence. Not much had changed since then– apart from an increased aversion to dirt as he’d come to understand just what nasties were in your average handful of soil.

You planted the seed; you nurtured it and watched it grow. You pulled the weeds and kept the bugs away.

Eventually, one day… you harvested the fruit.

And in the fruit was the next seed.

As he walked down the streets he was passing some people he knew but had no reason to know him.

Even the older people weren’t of an age where they could ever remember the face he saw in the mirror now. He was a young man again, at least in looks. That would pass soon enough though. Over the next weeks and months he’d become what he had been at the point he’d stopped physically aging.

But for now, he was young.

Somehow he couldn’t think of himself as the young man he was – though he’d always been young at heart. It was difficult not to be when you were effectively eternal – or at least were seeking eternity.

A police patrol car passed him by, and after darkness had fallen no less. Once upon a time the chance of bringing the police out in such conditions would have depended on an especially inexperienced officer and a dispatcher with an evil sense of humour.

Today, the people were protected though, and not just by the police.

There were some real heroines hereabouts. His girl Tara was still here, with the young woman she loved.

Oh, he was impressed by Tara. Naturally the records didn’t mention her much, but her touch – and that of her friends – was everywhere in this town when you knew how to look for it.

Not only had she found the courage to remove him from Sunnydale, plunging them all into uncertainty, but she’d stayed here herself. She’d taken on the duty that she’d once been paid for out of the undoubted goodness of her heart.

And she’d made Wolfram and Hart give her the vampire who’d killed him.

He’d known that she’d try something… and there were a few ways of achieving what was popularly regarded as impossible. Not just to bring the dead back to life – even Ethan Rayne could manage that – but to return the departed undead to the living…? Twice or thrice dead? That was even more difficult and costly.

The prophecy had made her success almost inevitable – but there were ways and there were ways of achieving that.

To summon a demon capable of carrying out the Shanshu ritual?

Willow Rosenberg… the only woman in living memory to have been returned from a state of vampiric damnation – here with his Tara. In love and together. Doing well at school by all accounts and now they were looking after an orphaned girl too.

Was there no end to their goodness?

He had to say he was enormously proud of them both. His dear wife had never been able to give him children, which was perhaps fortunate in a way, but in Tara he felt he had a daughter. A girl – now a woman – after his own heart. A woman who knew her own heart.

If he’d still been Mayor he’d have commissioned a statue.

Businesses were open that had been shuttered for years in his time. People were in the streets, joking and laughing, after dark… They’d more than justified his faith. And being as they were still here things would just be that much easier now. They had what was needed for the next step – or at least a part of it.

No need to wait for years for the next window – oh no, now he had a much better way to proceed. There was enough power out there now… Perhaps more than Tara and her partner could provide, but overall… There was no need to wait.

Perhaps the one thing he’d have changed… He’d have liked to have been Mayor.

Which raised an interesting point. He wasn’t the Mayor of this town for the first time in over forty years. But he couldn’t be Richard Wilkins the Third either. Everyone knew he’d died.

As his features became more what they had been, it’d be more and more difficult to hide who he was.

For a while he could be his own son, or possibly a nephew once again. He’d done it before, but this would certainly be the last time.

No… he’d age. Better to simply revert to being his own twin brother.

Unlikely perhaps, but was coming back from the dead any more likely? He knew what people would accept and see when offered such stark choices. It’d mean keeping a low profile until he’d resumed his final age but that was hardly an inconvenience.

And it’d only be for a little while.

This time… he was going to meet his goals.

At least he would if Mr Rayne continued the job he’d been commissioned for and secured some very special assistance for them.

----------------------

“So Lilah’s making her move?” Holland asked rhetorically.

His soon-to-be new associate didn’t reply. He knew the difference between a question that had to be answered and one that shouldn’t be.

“I’m impressed you brought this to me,” Holland added. “And a little surprised. I thought you… ah, appreciated working for Lilah.”

“Not as much as she’d like,” Justin assured him.

That was the trouble with rising so far, so fast… Lilah just didn’t understand some things yet. Yes, there were office politics and they could be lethal. But ultimately they were for the good of the firm.

When no one was paying the bills, not even the senior partners, then people started to get nervous. Sex wasn’t the office currency. Nor was loyalty. He didn’t believe for a second that Justin was anymore loyal to him than he was to Lilah.

And that was exactly as it should be. The point was that he was loyal to the firm.

So Lilah had subverted the weakest of the crop of new graduates, he was astounded that she really thought she could do the same with another one at the same time. And a man of Justin’s credentials at that.

Had she even bothered to read his file? Or had she just seen his… assets and decided to make a play for them? Futile as that was always going to prove for her.

This young man was third generation Wolfram and Hart and that counted for something. He’d been raised knowing exactly what his mother over at the New York office did for a living.

Justin’s mother - now there was a role-model for Lilah, the kind he’d not had the chance to be for her due to her elevation. Something he bitterly regretted.

He felt like he’d let her down – even though the decisions had been taken out of his hands by events.

Like him, Justin also appreciated that the bills had to be paid. Once you started believing that Wolfram and Hart worked for you, it didn’t matter who you were, then you were in trouble. The billing always had to be balanced with the effort put in.

Even Tara Maclay had understood that. That transaction was what had given them this new, supposedly useful, Lilah in the first place.

So while there was a debt there for Tara to pay – supposedly – the true price had been the creation, the sculpting, of Lilah. Those books had been balanced.

Lilah’s problem was that she was started to ignore the billing, and eventually there’d be a reckoning on that.

“What do you want me to do?” Justin asked.

“Do what she told you, but keep me informed.”

“Naturally sir,” Justin said. “Do you want her slowed down?”

“Not for now… this might actually work out to be good timing.” The way things were in Sunnydale; this could fit right into the schedule. It could be extremely convenient for Mr Rayne’s work to ensure that certain parties were distracted. That might be the only thing that would keep the books in order, if she inadvertently helped.

If she’d known what was happening… even she wouldn’t have dared do this. But now he knew, he could control it. “I’ll let you know if that changes,” he added.

Soon it’d be time to take a trip to Sunnydale, he’d intended to go anyway. He had an old client to meet, but now he had another reason.

He looked at the picture of Antonia Alessi as Justin left.

“I’ll be pleased to make your acquaintance young lady.”

**************

[Forrister]

Sorry, haven't been well. Feeling better now, screen doesnt hurt eyes.

First parts first. I fully expected Tara and Willow to agree to take on Toni in the full legal sense. It was a big decision but I couldn't see them going any other way and still feeling ok with it. What surprised me was Tara's rush to get it finalised asap. Like if it wasn't done now that somehow it would disappear. Toni has become important to her. A bit little sisterish, a bit daughterish, but all family. The only family she has is the one she's put together. Willow of course, and Ira as a sort of in-law. Rupert and Jenny as older brother/sister and the kids as niece and nephew. Now there is Toni and Tara needs to make her safe and secure. I was a little surprised that she hadn't long ago searched out what legalities were necessary to complete the process, but I guess sometimes when you are so enthusiastic about the result you sometimes neglect to worry about fiddly legal technicalities. I guess Willow must be really thinking hard about schools or she'd probably be giving Tara a little good natured teasing about her lack of planning.

The most recent part disturbs me on several levels. W&H is a twisted maze of conspiracy, plot & counterplot. A backstabbing, manipulative corporate hell of the literal kind. Lilah is a really nasty piece of work, and the way W&H is manipulating that is even nastier. Young Matt is dead meat - he just hasn't noticed yet, while Justin knows it - and knows how to play the W&H game according to its rules - so he might just survive. I have no idea what the real plan of the firm is . . . I'm sure none of the corporate players know, but its not going to be anything particularly good for our blissfully ignorant witchy pair. Richard Wilkins reaction to 'his' town is predictable, I thought he might approve - the problem is what is he going to do now? He seems to have W&H backing, but to what end?

Missed you hun. I know you run on feedback, and I've not been paying my dues. If truth be known, I'd be writing till they were playing ice hockey in hell before I could give you what you deserve. I like it, its good, and its worth reading. Better still its worth re-reading. Thanks

Forrister

Non vi sed virtute, non armis sed arte paritur victoria.
Not by force but by virtue, not with arms but with art is victory won.

[Tigerkid14]

My apologies. I am well trained in the knowledge that all authors live on feedback ("feedback whore" is the term I hear most commonly used) and yet, I failed to provide any.

First off, on the subject of the quote from Henry V, I think we can safely discount the quote since it was said in reference to one of the less than reputable characters. Or, if we can't completely discount it, then we can at least say that it only applies to men and the rest of us are all free to be as wordy as we want to be.

Now we're doing Twelfth Night. I haven't watched the movie version yet, but I did pay attention in class today while the teacher took our collective hand and walked us in tiny baby steps through as much of the first act as he could (we may all be English and Theatre majors, but most of us have a difficult time understanding Elizabethan language, jokes, and references).

This latest part disturbs me considerably. I know W&H wanted the humanity buttons burned off Lilah and Tara did that for them when she altered Lilah's memory, but they need to get a better leash on their girl. She should most definitely not being interfering with the happiness of W/T and Toni. Also, I agree with Forrister: Matt is just a walking dead man.

Wilkins almost worries me, but I tend to think of him as more of a known factor simply because he is so much more straightforward than W&H (and now that I've said that we'll start learning all sorts of things that will put me off kilter on that theory).

I'm sure I have other stuff bouncing around in my brain, but I am beyond coherent thought right now. Please do keep up the writing and the awesome work.

Meghan

~It is as BAD as you think, and they ARE out to get you!~

[Katharyn]

Kerry No apologies, as Meghan said I am a feedback whore. Hope you are feeling much better now.

Oh it was a given in story terms that Tara and Willow would take her on. There was no other way it could really go.

The rush though... That came from two things. The first was to show that yes, despite the problems I keep alluding to but never really showing Toni is important to Tara as she is to Willow. The second - well this time the drama drove the story. It was more dramatic that way.

Oh and third I already drafted that part about 3 years ago and though the story had changed I wanted to use it!

So your points about what Tara would've done are well taken. I should've put that in somewhere!

The second part - disturbs you? Good.

I'd kept going back to W&H but I'd never really gotten into what it really was. How it worked. This was a chance to explore that and somewhat necessary as you'll see much later.

Matt - yes... not likely to survive.

As to your other questions - I really can't say. It's been a few years since I had plot secrets from you, so it's kind of nice!

Thanks for staying with me, I do run on feedback and you've always been there. Tardiness through illness is allowed though *S*

Meghan - Ditto about apologies. *S*

Regarding the less reputable nature of the Henry V characters, who's to say I'm reputable? *S*

Twelth Night huh? I nearly directed that at my final year at school. Called off on account of illness. I believe there was an Al Pacino version not so long ago. Not sure, I only ever read it and saw it on stage.

Another disturbed person? Wow, must be doing something right *S*

And I'm glad you've come to that conclusion re Lilah and W&H. I'm not going to say you're wrong about that, no matter how dis-reputable I am. Make of that what you will *S*

It's difficult to make the Mayor something to worry about... he comes back and then vanishes from the story. In part that's because he's off doing something the reader doesn't need to know about - recovering from his return and other stuff - and in part because other things need to happen. It's a shame that I can't write in a more scripted fashion - intercutting scenes more - but the reason for that is because I am so far in their heads.

Thanks for feeding back and I apologise for trying to shame people into it LOL!

A word on progress. We're going to stick with a 10 day schedule (except where parts are separated for excessive length and I can post them closer together to keep it going) for now. Parts up to the end of November (part 203) are ready to post (but if I did that you'd have a huge gap!) and first drafts exist for every part up to part 214 and assorted parts after that. We're still looking at finishing at about 240 or so. That'd be very late next year on a 10 day schedule, but once I build up an even greater safety net, I'll aim to pull that down to hopefully once a week. But that'll be a while yet!

Katharyn

[db]

Kathryn,

I have been slowly making progress on your story and just wanted to pop in to say that I am still reading and am enjoying it very much.

I just finished reading chapter 32 - Wesley found Faith (at least I think it is her, she both sounds like her and *looks* like her), Tara and VW are going against their respective natures and Tara just asked VW to tell her about the old Willow... to tell her a story in exchange for play time.

Anyway, as I was wrapping up this chapter I was struck by this:

Would that Willow have treated her like this? So badly… but how could something bad feel so good? The pain at her throat stopped as Willow lifted the pendant from around her neck, over her head and placed in its resting place on the lamp. And as usual Tara let her.

Her penance was over for the night. Now she knew that she was going to find herself appreciating every moment.

First -- I just am *so* taken with this Tara. Her loneliness and longing and shame and kinda innate goodness. I really feel that about her -- but in a totally different way than the buffyverse reality.

Oh, and btw -- I really like that you hint at what T & VW do sexually, but don't really describe it. I think that somehow this is a concious effort, and it works. I think we don't want to see that; that Tara is ashamed and tand I don't want to see her shame.

Also, I love how I can *see* the old Willow in this VW. Little peaks. I think it must be like that for Tara too. And *would* that Willow have treated her like this? I think the answer is no -- not that Willow wouldn't have made inconsiderate mistakes, been blind to her own behavior or in denial -- but I don't think she would set out to deliberately hurt Tara. Just my two cents -- and for what its worth, it is how it feels like you write the 'old Willow'.


And grrrr! I *know* that Willow and Tara are going to end up together, but I have to say I am totally in the dark as to how it could happen -- but I love all the seeds of intrigue you are planting with the mayor and faith and the master and lilah and wolram and hart.

Weeee!

This is fun.

db

[Katharyn]

Hey DB (I think of you as Deb, with that screen-name, but who can say!)

Chapter 32? If you hadn’t said I’d have had not much clue what was in that part! I don’t think I’m giving much away if I say yes, Wesley found Faith. Those were fun parts to write, bringing her into the mix and setting up a story for her.

I have to admit that when you quoted what I’d written I was slightly disturbed by it. I’d forgotten just how explicit I was (without actually doing the sex.) But that was always the point, to make it clear this was NEVER a good thing.

I see too many VW stories with her essentially being “lovable.” I just couldn’t/wouldn’t do that in this story, or else what’s the point of bringing/wanting Willow back?

So yes, it’s a VERY conscious effort not to show sex between them. Making love will only come into this story when Willow, real Willow, is back. Even then it’ll only be a few parts where I show it. I’m not certain sex is required – fun as it can be – in great quantities. I mean written – I imply they’ve been doing it LOTS. LOL

I think your analysis is valid. There are – deliberately – hints of old Willow in VW. There has to be, in a sense, because otherwise what would Tara latch onto? Also VW is pushing Tara as far as she could. She is testing boundaries because she enjoys what Tara does to herself rather than what she does to Tara. But I think she knows that if she pushes Tara too far then she’ll lose her. There is a limit and you should see that later in the story.

I’m pleased you’re enjoying it and giving me these chances to look back. I hope that the method of getting Willow back will ultimately please you. Then when you’ve finished that story the sequel is even longer LOL

Thanks again,

Katharyn

Not that it matters to you (you’ll be a while getting there yet!) next part is this evening.

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle – Getting Familiar (Part 198)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Katharynrosser1@hotmail.co.uk Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Drusilla meets Tiger. Or something like that.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: A shorter one than the past few parts – it has to happen sometime, but I think I’ve earned it!
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW. I miss my Licky!


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Getting Familiar

By

Katharyn Rosser



They had more vampires now, at least five that he’d seen, but that was it. A far cry from what they probably regarded as the good old days. How they’d been feeding all those back then he had no idea. Even today, five vampires – in addition to any others passing through town – should’ve been making ripples that certain witches knew to pay attention to.

But as best as he could tell nothing was happening. Anywhere. The vampires weren’t being hunted – and not through the Witches lack of attention.

So unless they’d started with the old blood bank ploy again…?

That one was a feature of most towns and cities with a decent sized hospital. Turn a doctor or nurse who worked the nightshift… free blood for everyone. Sometimes even the offer of eternal life was enough to get someone who worked there to do what the vampires wanted.

After all, who knew about the intricacies of old age or death better than health workers?

Ethan had even been to cities where the vampires paid for the blood donation advertising and made sure that a certain – and usually larger – portion of the take continued to go to the hospital. After all they needed humans alive – at least until the point they decided to kill for themselves.

Live humans were just walking blood bags – dead ones weren’t any use to anyone. So went the vampire mindset. Natural disasters, disease… they’d all taken their toll on the predators as well as the prey in the past. Without humans, vampires were left to feed on animals and they hated to do that.

He had no idea whether they were actually using bagged blood here in Sunnydale or not. But given how common the tactic was he couldn’t believe that Miss Maclay wouldn’t be aware of the possibility and taking steps to prevent it from happening.

Or would it be better to let the vampires do that, rather than go out and kill?

No, she wasn’t the kind to tolerate a single vampire if she was aware of it. At least not any more.

If he had that faith in the beings even the vampires feared and hid from, then no… Drusilla and Darla must be taking some other steps to make this small number of vampires work. To keep them fed without repeating the mistakes of the past – bringing food in and storing it on site – or letting them roam and kill freely.

So it was probably the homeless, the vagrants. People who’d always supported vampires and – if they spread their net wide enough – wouldn’t attract too much attention. Ethan had noticed that the homeless population was building around Sunnydale – probably after years of being kept down by the vampires in search of just that easy meal.

They wouldn’t like it, the homeless would come right after animals on the cheap portion of the menu – but it would be human blood.

No one, no creature, could hide forever. Even if they were extremely careful, even if somehow they avoided the witches for all that time. Eventually chaos would take a part and tip their hand, revealing them to those who’d hunted them down.

Just so long as they were revealed after he’d left their lair. His overall strategy if confronted by the local witches was to run. Preferably with distractions in place to stop them coming after him.

Distractions like vampires.

Specifically these vampires.

He was still human – the witches couldn’t kill him. At least they probably couldn’t kill him. But there was no point in tempting fate.

What would those two young women care about him or his tricks when their most hated enemies were right here? This was the whole point of Wolfram and Hart’s subterfuge. The very reason he was supposed to be helping these two vampires was to lead the witches to straight to them.

Strange, but true.

But only at the right moment.

It made more sense to him because he knew exactly what he was trying to distract the witches away from detecting. Just this evening he’d had a telephone conversation with Holland Manners informing him that there were going to be more things on their minds than he’d known about.

But erring on the side of caution he wasn’t going to increase his activities until he saw the proof of it. It was easy for Holland to say that, he was back in LA and not likely to get his arse kicked.

Ironically the vampires weren’t doing him many favours in the distraction stakes right now. They were being too overly sneaky. But that wouldn’t last, he was sure of it.

They were already impatient. He was sure that was why he’d been summoned. It certainly wasn’t to have a ‘bit of a chat.’ Darla, especially, didn’t do ‘chats.’

“Ethan! You’ve been gone too long,” Darla said loudly as he entered the heart of the factory that passed as their lair. Overhead there were tracks with hooks hanging down from them. Below that, machines that’d once done who-knew-what to the animal carcasses. All rusting in place.

He’d heard the Master had once tried to convert just such a meat packing plant into a vampire restaurant. His aim? World domination through fast food – but still with a fresh taste to appeal to any palate. Drained on demand, right there on the premises.

Supposedly it’d been the red-haired witch who’d devised the machine, during her vampire phase. Which just went to show, the demon had to be a reflection of the person – at least to some extent.

So Darla would probably have loathed him in life as much as she apparently did in undeath. Case in point, it didn’t sound like she’d missed him – it sounded more like a criticism. But what was he expecting from them?

Flowers… roses perhaps? She was right, it had been a while. Time he’d supposedly spent working for their aims.

And he had – in a roundabout sort of way.

“You’ve been a bad boy!” Drusilla chided him, skipping around the work-benches where great carcasses would’ve been hacked apart. They hadn’t seen working human hands in so long they were still made of wood – deeply stained by blood from all those carcasses – rather than stainless steel as they would be today.

What did an environment like this do to a vampire’s senses? Was there a must to age old blood? And what effect did it have on them? Did it quell the hunger or accentuate it?

“Ah… may I ask what I did?” he checked. It was difficult to know, with this insane vampire, whether any slight against them would be real or imagined.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working for us?” Darla asked as Drusilla circled him and ran her fingers around the collar of his shirt, uncomfortably close to his throat.

“And I am,” he replied, shivers running round his entire body as his hair stood on end. He really didn’t dare to move. She could slice his blood vessels upon with a flick of her wrist then… no more Ethan Rayne. It wasn’t that he was afraid – except at an instinctive level – it was more than he had no idea when she might choose to end his life.

So ‘being bad’ wasn't just something from the depths of Drusilla’s permanent delirium though? Darla believed he’d acted against their interests in some way too. What did they know? It was always possible they’d find out the truth one day – or that someone could tell them – but was that day today?

It wasn’t that they were wrong – but hopefully they weren’t aware of everything there was to know.

Somehow it wasn’t very reassuring to think that he’d already be dead if they knew everything he’d been doing – no matter how much they thought they needed him.

“You’ve been lining your own pockets, Ethan,” Darla went on.

Ah, that.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that man cannot live by bread alone,” he told them trying to sound respectful but not letting his lack of concern show through. They weren’t going to kill him and that meant he could carry on with his work.

Blessed Chaos.

Whatever they knew – it wasn’t enough to be afraid of.

“Or honey,” the darker haired vampire said.

Actually, scratch that. He had no reason to fear Darla, she still needed him and knew it – Drusilla was quite another matter. She was still lurking, circling him. Half of her a predator, half of her a flirty young woman. Still another half was a fascinated – and phenomenally strong – child.

There were at least three halves to Drusilla, maybe more than that.

He had to admit it, she was right. Man could not live by honey alone either. “Or honey,” he conceded.

“Have you tried?” Drusilla asked, sounding like much the child at that moment. Not that the child couldn’t kill him just as easily. The child had even less self-control.

“Well, actually… no,” he admitted. He was more of a savouries and beer man, not much for honey. At least not the kind that came from bees.

“Have you ever been coated in honey and left out for the ants?” Drusilla pressed. The predator was threatening him, but she was still sounding like the child. And that was the key to her, he supposed. Drusilla didn’t have multiple discrete personalities. She had one, totally mixed up, personality that was comprised of many parts.

Fortunately Darla came to his ‘rescue.’ “Dru, honey-”

“Honey, honey, honey,” Drusilla sang, dancing around him, and Ethan had visions of himself up to his neck in dirt and being eaten alive.

That would be unfortunate.

Had she put them in his head? Or was it just the fear manifesting?

“Dru!”

The darker vampire, after being shouted at, glared at him as if it was his fault. Darla was the one who’d almost made her cry, and that was how far she’d come to be the predator rather than the child again.

He’d just been here.

“While we enjoyed the opportunity to have our freedom of the town during your little trick that night -” Darla started to say until she was interrupted.

But not by Drusilla.

Tiger mewled. Not at the best time either – or was it?

Of course the vampires heard him too – their senses were so much keener than his own. And one of them, at least, seemed fascinated by the sound – wanting to find out where and what it was.

Drusilla was alert now, sniffing around him – round and round and round. Until finally she leaned down to the level where the kitten was hiding. It seemed Tiger didn’t like vampires. A hissing and frantic fidgeting started up down there in his oversized pocket. Great… just great. He had a kitten with a death wish.

As Drusilla’s talons reached to lower the lip of his pocket, up Tiger popped, right in her face and actually made her jump backwards in surprise. Perhaps she wasn’t as gifted at reading animals as she was humans – or creatures that’d once been human.

“Ooooh,” Drusilla cooed. Happily was that? How was anyone to know?

“A snack?” Darla asked, as if barely seemed interested.

“For me, for me, for meeeeeee,” Drusilla sang, kneeling so she was nose to nose with Tiger and in a position that would have seemed a lot more erotic to him if he hadn’t been too nervous to appreciate it.

“No,” Ethan told them. Not for Drusilla, and not a snack either.

Darla looked as disappointed as she’d appeared interested, though Tiger did have her attention. “Surely not a fluffy pet?” she asked. “I’d be disappointed if you had empathy for a flea ridden ball of fur, Ethan. That might indicate that you could develop feelings for your own kind and where would our arrangement be then?”

“Oh, I assure you that isn’t the case. Haven’t I already shown my utter contempt for humanity?” he asked, hoping Tiger wouldn’t do anything to provoke Drusilla as they were nose to nose down at the level of his jacket pocket.

He did hold humanity in contempt though – at least the vast majority of it. But then he held demons in contempt too. All those who supported the hierarchies that propped both the under and over worlds.

“Then what is it?” Darla pressed, clearly wanting some reassurance from him. She’d never been comfortable with needing a human. At least not for anything other than food. The idea of needing a human who ‘loved’ a little fluffy pet must have turned her stomach.

“A familiar,” he lied. Lies rolled off his tongue with such ease, they always had. Long years of practice, because that was the only way to make them undetectable. Lying was a skill like anything else. “There are some things made easier by adopting the old ways,” he went on, intending to sound both sage and wise.

Besides, he was sure they remembered the old times.

“Can I haves him?” Drusilla begged.

As if he knew what she was asking, Tiger hissed and showed his little teeth to her.

“Ooooh look, he’s so feisty!” the vampire cooed happily and then repeated Tiger’s gesture back at him. She hissed and showed her own, much bigger, teeth to the kitten.

The display seemed to have more effect on him than it did on Tiger – Ethan was certain it was a natural human response in the presence of a predator. His instincts wanted him to run away, but the intelligent mind was stronger than primitive instincts. At least his was.

He certainly couldn’t speak for everyone.

Tiger on the other hand didn’t seem too bothered and just licked Drusilla’s nose, which obviously made her want him all the more.

“I wants him,” the vampire insisted, looking up at him like a little girl who’d just discovered ponies. A little girl with great big teeth.

Ethan was, basically, a coward and proud of it. It was tough to imagine himself saying ‘no’ to a vampire, particularly one as volatile as Drusilla. But that was what he said all the same. “No.”

Drusilla paused for a moment – as if surprised – and then straightened up, her face right in front of his now. Those yellow eyes boring into his own, making him want to quiver in a ball and hide from the big, bad monster.

But the intelligent mind was stronger when reason was given a chance and the longer she was there, the more reason won out over instinct.

“I wants him,” she said again and instead of getting harsher, she sounded even more childlike – petulant rather than lethal. He just didn’t want to be on the wrong end of a tantrum.

“No,” he repeated. But he needed more than that. He needed a reason otherwise Tiger would be gone, soon to be as dead as the bird that littered the cages in here. “It’ll delay things,” he said. He was appealing to the saner vampire of the pair now. If Drusilla did choose to take Tiger there was precisely nothing he could do that’d slow her down for more than five seconds.

“If I have to give him to you and find a new one then things will move slower. Things you want to happen,” he continued sensing Darla was finally interested.

“That’s your familiar?” Darla asked, sounding surprised. Of course she’d been around long enough – in the old and new worlds – to know all about familiars and the kind of beings who used them.

Ethan knew that there was actually power that could be drawn through and from a familiar. It took the strain from the spell caster and instead channelled it through the life force of the creature who’d been adopted. It allowed you, as a caster, to pull away from the lengthy ritual magic and instead to do it ‘on the fly’ without shattering your brain every time you incanted a spell that was too powerful.

The only lie being told was that Tiger was such a creature.

“There’s a lack of suitable cats in this town – too many are taken for the poker games,” he explained, introducing some truth in with the lies. “That’s why I had to attend the game you’re referring to – and why I have a kitten rather than a full grown cat. I had to win about twenty of them just to find the one which could help me with what’s ahead of us.”

‘Us’ made it inclusive. They were tied together. Tiger was as vital to them as to him.

He reached down and scratched behind Tiger’s ear, pleased to see him respond positively. At the same time he wondered if Drusilla, again nose to nose with the kitten again, would take his fingers off.

But the lie was a masterpiece. Not only had he saved Tiger, and himself, but he’d explained away the poker game they’d heard about. Even why he’d won so many kittens – all but one he’d given to the shelter.

They’d had their night on the town and he’d won a familiar because of the truth spell. How could they object?

Of course ‘saving’ Tiger and himself required acceptance by Drusilla. It needed a failure on her part to kill him out of hand, in order to take what she wanted but might not even remember in a few minutes.

A failure, or some control being exerted by the vampire Drusilla called ‘grandmamma.’

“Dru, down girl,” Darla commanded. “You can’t have your party if you have the… kitty.” The last word she uttered with disgust.

Drusilla wanted a party they believed would be the end of the world – or at least the dawning of a new age. Would she want that more than a kitty? Tiger was new, shiny in that regard.

How much did Drusilla want the end of the world?

And it might just be that. He had to put some faith in other people, for once in his life, to prevent what he was setting in motion. Holland had assured him that it wouldn’t be allowed to happen – that the world wouldn’t end. But from what he’d seen so far his actions were going to result in a permanently open Hellmouth at the very least.

Right at the centre of the town. Right under Ripper’s library.

There didn’t seem a lot anyone could do about that once it’d happened. How long could fight back the denizens of a dozen or more hell dimensions?

Minutes? Hours? Days?

A week even?

In the end it wouldn’t help very much.

Of course he had some ideas about how other people might try to stop him, chaos could always intercede, but none of those scenarios seemed to be coming to pass. As best he could tell… they were going to let him open the Hellmouth. Even though the whole point was that it would be permanently unsealed once he did.

There was no way back once that happened. And the power required to close it… Far, far more than it’d take to crack open.

The open Hellmouth was just what the vampires wanted and also exactly why he didn’t intend to be anywhere near here when it happened, no matter what the former Mayor or the lawyers wanted from him after that’d been arranged.

If only Tiger was a familiar though.

He was going to need a significant chunk of power for this – more than Sunnydale could offer even if the best case scenario came to pass. More than he could usually lay his hands on. Certainly more than he could channel for himself. The last thing he’d see if he tried to generate even a fraction of what was needed was his own brains running out of his nose.

No, this was going to take some out of town trips. And that meant negotiating for time with these predators. More time.

Drusilla grinned at being told off by Darla. Like a bad dog. “Ruff,” was her only reply.

Her canine response made Tiger hiss at her, even though he’d never even seen a dog it was something built into him. Poor little thing, the kitten was all instinct and they weren’t letting him down tonight.

“Ethan, it’s time for things to start to happen,” Darla said. “You’ve made a lot of promises and I’m getting impatient.”

Getting impatient? Had she ever been anything but impatient?

But here was the problem… the time he needed. You couldn’t just pry a Hellmouth open and keep it that way. The ‘natural’ inclination was for it to close – like any portal. The power required to wedge one open indefinitely… they had to understand he couldn’t just snap his fingers.

“How long until everything twinkles?” Drusilla asked, still right there in Tiger’s face.

Ethan really hoped that his kitten wouldn’t nip at the vampire’s nose or take a swipe with his claws. That would be… unfortunate, it might even make Drusilla cry. And what was she talking about? “Twinkles?”

“Like the ashes in the hearth,” Drusilla told him as if it was the most obvious metaphor in the world.

“Ah, that… There is a ritual,” he confided.

In fact there were several rituals which would allow the effect required – to a greater or lesser extent. The power was the limiting factor. After that the ‘how’ was more flexible. But he was under strict instructions. He knew what had to happen and the permanence required of him when it did. That left him much fewer options, especially when he wanted to be far away from this place when it opened.

Cowards didn’t really make the best people for triggering a ‘final apocalypse.’

Cults and suicide in general just weren’t his thing.

And make no mistake about it, forcing a Hellmouth to open not just for hours or days but for eternity… That was the final apocalypse you were talking about. Or at least it would’ve been as little as fifty years ago.

He had to have faith in human resourcefulness in the modern age if the worst came to the worst. Or at least in their weapons. Besides he knew that, even if his ritual worked, there was a counter in place.

Or at least there should be if he was right about what the lawyers were intending.

There had to be didn’t there? A counter to the Hellmouth? That was why Wolfram and Hart were so determined that this had to happen, even before the vampires had demanded it for their own reasons.

They had to have a way around it. The end of the world didn’t suit their purposes.

Wolfram and Hart’s interests were the second part of why he was here in town, and the only reason he was still here. He could easily have gone where the vampires wouldn’t have found him.

At least not for a few years.

There had to be a way out of what he was going to do. There was no way in all the worlds that Wolfram and Hart were going to allow humanity’s ultimate response – nuclear weapons – to be used here in Sunnydale, so close to their LA office.

And that might be all that the humans could do in the end, if the Hellmouth was wide open and unrestrained.

Believing that the lawyers knew something he didn’t, he was willing to take risks – at least as long as he could be far away here when it happened. There was a lot of chaotic energy in an apocalypse and that could only be a good thing.

So long as it wasn’t on his doorstep.

He could tell himself with a reasonable degree of certainty that he wasn’t really going to end the world. Going to hell wasn’t something he had planned in for the next few months anyway.

“How long?” Darla pressed.

He considered for a moment, just for effect. “A few weeks to gather what I need, and it’s not just materials. I need to secure the… ah, shall we say the services of other denizens of the underworlds. Some of them aren’t even here in town – but they’ll have to play their parts. After that… just a week for the ritual to reach a critical mass. Give or take a few days for each stage.”

It was precisely the former-Mayor’s schedule and the beauty of it was that it gave him a few days to get out of the blast-zone to a nice protected area. Preferably one with some female company.

This was going to get brutal and brutal was something he didn’t take to too well.

Darla looked hard at him and for a moment it felt like she was looking into his soul – he knew this wouldn’t happen again. This time he’d deliver or he’d be lunch. “Six weeks,” she concluded. “Don’t fail Ethan. Don’t fail us. I’m getting very impatient, and I won’t ask you this again.”

“There’ll be no failure,” he promised, and actually he had every intention of keeping that one.

***********

[Forrister]

I'm not sure Ethan was lying . . . sometimes familiars find you. Tiger certainly claimed him as a permenant possession, its just that Ethan hadn't gotten around to seeing things from that particlular point of view. Go Tiger!

Dru is back in all her warped glory, but I think she met her match in Tiger. Perhaps the attraction was of one high level chaotic predator to another, after all they are kindred spirits of a sort. I don't think little Tiger
was quite up to taking on a pissed off Dru, but give him a year or so and I wouldn't care to bet on that.

I almost (but not quite) feel sorry for Ethan, walking a very slippery tightrope between W&H and Dru & Darla. If it were anyone else I'd estimate his chances of getting away intact would be similar to a snowflake in a blast furnace, but Ethan - like a cat - has a habit of surviving and landing on his feet.

I know that you're setting the stage and moving all the pieces into the right positions, I even have a good idea whats coming, Yet you still have the ability to present me with something new and wonderful in each part. Bravo! Thanks lots!!

Forrister

Cave Felae
Beware of the Kitty.

[Katharyn]

Hey Kerry!

Is Tiger a familiar? Perhaps in his own mind - whether Ethan would use him as such is another matter. Perhaps when he's grown up. Perhaps Tiger can provide the missing power for what's planned.

Dru - always a joy to write when she has something to be interested in. SOmetimes, when she is on the sidelines, I write weirdness because it's expected. Here I actually get to let her play.

I think it's safe to say that Ethan will survive, one way or another. You are right about him. He might take a beating, but no one is likely to kill him. Besides he has no bad karma for me to kill him for. He got Willow into a hot outfit and tattooed Buffy. I'm happy to let that slide!

I'd love to know what you think is coming. I don't think I told you way back, and if I did it probably changed so it could be informative. On the one hand I am trying to have surprises, but on the other hand I am setting things up and you have to give clues when you do that.

Thanks,
Beware of the Kitty indeed!

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle – Challenges (Part 199)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Tara and Willow out hunting. Kind of a “nothing” part in that it just advances a few plot strands without having to see all the detail of how that happens. But nice, I hope.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: A couple of shorter parts before we get into the bigger stuff again. I say ‘short’ and I really just mean ‘short for me.’
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Challenges

By

Katharyn Rosser


“It’s a lovely night,” Willow said looking up at the stars.

“It is. It was the first time you said it, and the second. Third time around and it’s still, undeniably, a lovely night,” Tara replied without the slightest hint of tetchiness.

That was her baby, a tetch free zone. Whatever tetch was.

Willow knew she was going to have to look that up; otherwise it would be keeping her awake tonight. While being awake with Tara was one thing, and watching her sleep was something else, being awake all night with a word on her mind while Tara slept beside her… well that got kind of dull and frustrating.

Once it got frustrating she’d start to toss and turn – then Tara would wake up and they’d both be tired in the morning. So, as a shortcut around all that, the dictionary was probably a good choice.

“Can you see the Big Pineapple?” Tara asked with mischief in her tone. Maybe only someone who’d known Tara as long as she had – and as intimately – would have appreciated that it was mischievous. Other people would find it harder to tell.

Willow appreciated that she was the one of the few who’d be able to appreciate it.

In fact she was the appreciation-girl – as she’d shown many times.

But she still feigned disgust at the question as she answered it. “Of course I can find it. I’m the knowledge-girl remember?”

Knowledge-girl and appreciation-girl. She was a lot of girls tonight – but she was a one-woman-girl too.

She couldn’t keep that act up, pretending to be disgusted by the question, for long though. Tara knew her far too well and she quickly broke, taking her own chance to tease. “Once you tell me – or show me something – I’ve never any problem in remembering where it is and finding it again.”

“I noticed that,” her girlfriend laughed. “You got quite the homing instinct.”

Willow took Tara’s arm through her own again, cuddling up to her as they walked. Vampires were just going to be an annoying distraction now – even though they were out on the hunt.

They’d be a short-lived, annoying distraction though, and vampires were why they were out here. Along with any other kind of demon that popped it’s head up.

“And I noticed you noticing baby. But if I remember right it seemed like you were surprised at just how well I… homed in. Back when you first showed me the way.”

They weren’t really talking about the Big Pineapple anymore. It was entirely another homing instinct they were talking about now.

One that – and she had nothing against the Big Pineapple – gave them both a great deal more pleasure than a few stars ever would.

“I suppose… but then I remembered that you had a head start,” Tara replied.

Willow smiled, even given the nature of that head start. So the vampire had known what to do to Tara. Remembering that gave her no pleasure at all. The trick had been to learn what to do for and with Tara.

It’d been like learning about Tara all over again, and she’d been glad of it at the time.

There were some things that… they remained true no matter how much you regretted them. And this was that perfect time with Tara they were talking about. There was no bad here. No bad about that afternoon under that tree and the weeks after it as their love had grown after she’d recovered.

“We’re not talking about the big pineapple now are we?” she checked, just in case. She had been known to go off on a tangent or two.

From time to time.

And usually no one followed her.

Tara looked shocked, holding her hand to her mouth in mock-horror. “Aren’t we?”

“No, woman of mine, we’re definitely talking about something else. There weren’t any stars in the sky above us, not that day. Just leaves.”

Tara laughed with her. “And so you’re super-observant too? In addition to all your homing skills.”

“Naturally,” Willow assured her, kissing her girlfriend’s cheek.

It was at that precise point that Tara grabbed her and stopped her from walking smack into a tree. “You were saying something about super-observant?” Tara asked.

“Where did that come from?” Willow said looking up at one of the largest trees in town. “You know, that definitely wasn’t here yesterday.”

“Surely not,” Tara teased.

“Well, that’s what you’re for baby, to keep me out of danger whilst I pay attention to more beautiful things.” As she said it she was looking at the most beautiful person in her world. This time Tara guided away from walking into the bench beneath the tree.

Willow coughed.

“Do you remember me teaching you about the Big Pineapple?” Tara asked a few minutes, and a lot of stargazing, later.

Willow snorted. “Of course I do. I remember everything. It’s my curse. And my blessing. I’ll never be forgetting any of it.”

“And I know you remember the first time we snuggled?” Tara challenged.

“Well duh. And now…” She held her fingers to her head, pretending to be doing some sort of mind trick. “Now, you’re about to ask me about the tree.”

Tara laughed.

“How can you ask if I remember that?” Willow asked, after all they’d just been – kind of – talking about it. Hadn’t they? Tara hadn’t meant something else had she?

“I like to think about good things – especially when we’re out here hunting,” Tara replied with a soft smile.

Willow considered that response for a moment. “So… I fall into the category of good things?” She could go with being a good thing. A good thing was a good thing to be. Something she definitely approved of.

“Well, the tree did,” Tara teased. “That was definitely a good thing.”

That wasn’t exactly a ‘yes,’ even though she’d been the one under that tree with Tara on that special day.

“Hey Missy! You know, I should be teasing you,” Willow accused, “after you implied I could’ve forgotten and all. Yeah, you’re definitely the one here who is due for a teasing.”

“Oh please Willow, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Tara responded with sly smile.

“Okay, you need teasing or your hand slapping, something like that,” Willow suggested, finding she was being outmanoeuvred and not really minding too much. And who said she wouldn’t keep those promises? She could tease, and even deny Tara, for hours…

At least when she found some self-control and self-denial. It was hard. Really hard. But she’d done it.

Once.

Perhaps that was what Tara was getting at.

“Well, only if you must,” Tara told her, holding her hand out. “I want everything I deserve. I’m greedy that way.”

“It’s not greedy if you deserve it,” Willow breathed, and naturally she took Tara’s hand instead of slapping it.

What else was she going to do? They stopped, turned to each other and met in a kiss. A long, long, under the stars, kiss. It could have been seconds; it could have been minutes, hours or perhaps even a lifetime. The stars would always be there. History lit the night sky. Starlight from millions of years ago… and they’d still be in love.

But eventually Willow became aware of something that was going to break into their expression of affection. Rather than break the kiss, she just slammed her free hand out. There was a whoosh and that was that.

She could go right back to putting her full attention into the woman who deserved it most, the sound of dust frazzling up all that interfered with the sounds of their lips, their breathing and yes, their tiny little moans.

Eventually they broke, breathing harder than when they’d locked lips in the first place. Whether it was lack of air or simple anticipation Willow couldn’t say – at least not for Tara. But for herself, Tara always made her breathless.

“There’s always one,” Tara said looking into her eyes without giving the inevitable traces of dust a second glance.

Willow smiled. “It’s like all vermin; you can never quite get rid of them. But there’s definitely a lower standard of vampire these days.”

“Well, that’s good,” Tara said, smiling.

“Yeah but… it makes me feel…” Willow couldn’t quite find the words.

“Old?” Tara suggested. “Like a relic of a bygone era? When there were stronger, more challenging vampires?”

“Old?” Willow protested. “Who’s old? I was going to say ‘proud.’” Old? It was one thing from Toni, but… Tara thought she was old now?

“Oh?”

“You betcha,” Willow insisted. “And you called me a relic?”

Tara coughed.

Willow wasn’t about to let it go that easily though. Old was one thing. But a relic? That was positively ancient.

“How did you get to relic? I’m younger than you are.” And that was just on the date of birth. If you looked at the physical side of things – well, then she was even younger. She’d come back as she’d been at the time of her death. Her… original death.

She was waaay younger than Tara when you looked at it that way. In fact the whole time at the farm had been almost indecent. At least once they…

Almost anyway.

But in their life experiences they were probably the oldest people they knew. They’d lived through hell, partly together, and now they were doing the loving thing, fully appreciating how special it was because they’d seen more of the bad than anyone should have to.

They’d had full lives and they hadn’t even graduated.

She slipped her young, non-wrinkled, and definitely not relic-like hand into Tara’s again and they started walking again.

“Sometimes I feel old,” Tara admitted after they’d gone a little way. Willow knew that she’d have got an answer out of Tara eventually. Better she admitted it.

One way or another she’d have gotten it out of her girlfriend. Even if that took the application of some very specific teasing.

Even if she had to put something in to get it out of her. She absolutely sucked at withholding anything from Tara. She wanted it too much herself to deny it to her woman. Whatever it was at any particular moment.

Of course they had their disagreements, any couple did. But she’d never been so mad that she’d tried to withhold anything from Tara. And even if she did get that mad she knew it’d be absolutely futile.

All Tara would have to do was smile and she’d give it over in heart beat.

Anything more than a smile and she’d be lost forever.

Oh yeah… she wanted it. Her body was alive to the possibilities already. In conjunction with all that kissing and anticipation, such thoughts were having their usual effect on her. She liked to think of it as the Tara-Effect.

But Tara felt old? That was new. “Do you? Why?”

Tara smiled. It was a smile that said she knew she had her girlfriend’s interest piqued now. So much so Willow might forget the perceived insult about ‘relics’ and who was one.

Fat chance baby. Fat chance. Even Tara couldn’t get away with calling her a ‘relic’ or assuming she’d feel like one. Not without some kind of penalty.

Maybe she’d been around Jenny too long. Especially when there was so little she could do to Tara that didn’t hurt her too.

“All settled down with you, being someone’s auntie – watching kids grow up around us?” Tara explained. “Sounds like ‘old’ to me. Or how I always thought of old, when I was young. Young-er I mean.”

Tara paused for a few moments and then continued. “And you know, some of the people who make the music I like are suddenly younger than I am too. I’m not a kid anymore, Will. Not even a ‘young person.’”

Willow thought about that – it was certainly true about the music, but then there were the classic artists who’d always be older than them. At least until they were dead. And there was a cheery thought. “I’m not sure you were ever a kid, sweetie,” she said.

Tara grinned, “And I’m not sure how to take that – but because it’s you I’ll take it as a compliment. Somehow. Twist it for me till it is?”

“Oh, it was definitely nothing bad,” Willow promised her. Though ‘compliment’ might be pushing it a little further than she’d intended.

Tara nodded and pushed an arm through hers again. “Good. And no, I’ve not been a kid for a long time – which is kind of what I’m saying. You don’t feel that way?”

Willow thought about it. This wasn’t Tara suggesting she was old – just asking where being a kid had gone?

And it wasn’t like she wasn’t thinking about this quite a lot herself. “I suppose… I mean I have a bunch of memories that aren’t quite right. I know what happened, but I can’t physically account for the time. And then I have periods where I should have memories and there’s nothing at all. But I don’t feel old,” she wanted to get that stressed. No old. She wasn’t old. Worst case she was only in her mid-twenties.

That wasn’t old.

And certainly not a relic of anything.

Except… when she’d been a teenager, mid-twenties had seemed positively ancient.

And was she a relic of the type of vampires that didn’t come around here anymore? The Order… She remembered Luke, The Master. Even Drusilla, her siress.

Perhaps a relic of that – but always younger than them too.

“We’ll always be younger than Rupert and Jenny,” she said, comforting herself.

An era with tweed.

Tara nodded. “Especially Rupert.”

“Yup.” Now there was a human relic. Of a different era.

“So… let’s skip right along to you being proud about the lesser vampires,” Tara suggested.

“Okies. Lets leave the word ‘old’ alone though. Try… ‘nostalgic’ if you have to think about things that way,” Willow said. She wasn’t having Tara running around calling her a relic. What would Jenny make of that?

Tara mused on the suggestion for a moment. “I’m not sure nostalgic is much better – it makes it sound like I enjoyed those days.”

“Didn’t you? Some of it?” she asked.

When you came back to it, Tara had been alive. Human. Not some monster ripping people’s throats out. And she’d been doing good things – no matter the reason for them. There had to be some of it that had been… at least better than terrible.

Tara was about to respond, she was about to give some snappy answer – but then she plainly thought better of it and bit that answer back. Willow wondered what that might have been. Perhaps she’d be able to tell from what Tara was about to say after more consideration.

After a moment Tara tried again. “Once I got here I guess…” Tara admitted. “There was all this bad stuff going on but there were other people who were doing the same thing I was. Living in the same world – fighting the demons.”

Willow nodded in understanding – she knew the Tara from those days very well, in a part of her memory she didn’t like to delve into too much, but didn’t stop presenting itself unbidden. She understood how lonely Tara had been because the vampire had loved to play on that, to try and separate her from her human friends again.

From healthy relationships of all kinds.

“Once I was here, I wasn’t alone any more,” Tara continued. “I suppose… I’m looking back at Rupert, Jenny and Faith – the first Faith I mean… Those good things are linked to what we were fighting at the time. The Master and his vampires.”

“Me.”

“You’re a special case,” Tara assured her. “You always were.”

“It was a challenge though,” Willow admitted. “This background radiation from the Hellmouth that pulls in the odd vampire just isn’t up to much. Challengewise I mean.”

Tara nodded. “True.”

“And even if the Hellmouth wasn’t here – I bet there would still be the odd vampire,” Willow suggested.

Tara knew that much better than her. Tara had been across half the country in her years out there hunting alone. She knew that there were always vampires. Which meant that Sunnydale was a success story at it’s present levels. Here it should have been vampires-plus.

It had been – before they’d fixed it.

They’d done all this, with their friends – they’d made it one of the safest places around.

“Which is why it’s important to enjoy the walks we take as we hunt,” she continued.

Tara smiled. “And I do. I enjoyed the smoochies too.”

“It’s definitely my fave way to draw the vampires to us,” Willow told her. “Much better than one of us being helpless-bait-girl.”

“They’re suckers for the pheromones,” Tara said.

“And there was me thinking it was the hot girl-on-girl action they liked,” she said, teasing. “At least that’s what you told me.”

“No, its just pheromones. The hot girl-on-girl action’s for me, sweetie.”

“I noticed that too,” Willow smiled. There hadn’t been much of a chance to avoid Tara’s appreciation of all things girl-on-girl… all things that involved the two of them anyway. Nor was Willow going to deny the lure of their lust. Lust was an important counterpart to love. A wonderful part of it in fact.

She knew what simple lust for Tara felt like, the vampire had felt it being incapable of love.

It wasn’t a glimmer of light against the roaring fire of lusting after the woman she loved.

They might well get to indulge both love and lust when they got home. But for now…

“So speaking of a challenge…” Willow said. At least they had been a few minutes and a vampire ago.

“Our last sets of exams?” Tara guessed.

Those were coming up soon, soon enough that she’d already drawn up a schedule for Rupert and Jenny to take over some of the hunting duties to cover for them on the important nights before when they needed their sleep.

It had priorities and colours and everything. Rupert hadn’t liked being pink but she wasn’t changing everything for that. Besides it’d been more of a fuchsia.

“No. I mean yes, there’ll be a challenge. But no, that’s not the challenge I meant.”

“Toni?” Tara guessed again.

“Toni. You know I suddenly realised something when we were in that court room,” Willow said now Tara had guessed right.

“About what we’re doing?”

The hearing had gone… well. The Judge, who’d they’d met many times before the course of making arrangements for Toni’s temporary care, seemed sympathetic not only to Toni but to their desire to continue to be the ones who were responsible for her.

Willow couldn’t think there’s be any problem with anything – not even all the reports and papers they needed to complete.

“I realised it’s really not such a big thing,” Willow revealed her revelation for the first time.

“Erm…” Tara looked and sounded doubtful. “Not big, but just a total change in the way we live our lives? Pretty minor when you look at it.”

Willow could see that side of things, but that was precisely the revelation she’d had. Getting away from the thing that seemed scary. “Is it? Aren’t we already doing everything we’re promising to? What would we be doing when we have that piece of paper signed by a judge that we’re not doing already?”

“We’ll be responsible – ” Tara said.

Willow snorted in polite derision. “Sweetie, we’re already responsible. In fact we’re the most responsible people we know. Nothing else we can do in our lives will make us more responsible than we are now.”

Tara looks at her. Really? Her eyes asked the question.

“Okay, you’re the most responsible person I know,” Willow corrected.

“This is part of being old right?” Tara guessed.

Willow whacked her girlfriend’s arm. “We agreed to leave that word alone. But we make a good team, you know? I feel like we’re her big sisters now.”

Maybe more than that – but big sisters for sure.

“Big like older – not big like ‘BIG’,” she added before Tara chose to take that the wrong way.

Besides, Toni was bigger than she was now – in every way that counted. And still growing.

Tara nodded, and smiled. “I knew what you meant. It’s just a shame there have to be so many reports and hearings to go through. It would be nice to have that piece of paper too.”

Willow couldn’t disagree with that futile wish. The number of papers and reports which they’d already signed and been the subject of to have Toni with them now was dazzling.

Dazzling in a dull way.

And this was just the beginning of the process to get one more of them. The important one.

That pile could only be larger to take permanent custody, it had to be. “It’s for Toni,” Willow said. “We know that. I think the Judge would’ve signed the order right then and there if she could – but there’s a process. Formalities to go through.”

“It’ll be worth it though,” Tara replied. “It’ll be good for her, and for us.”

“Yes, it will.”

Willow smiled and slipped her hand into Tara’s.

*****************

[Forrister]

I like how these two operate. They are focused, dedicated and skilled. No letting anything distract them from whats important during a hunt. Even while staking the undead they remain fixed on each other. Its cute. It worries me because you can't be that cute and that happy for too long in Sunnydale before something bad happens. But it is nice to see.

I see this part as a bridge before the beginning of the big bit at the end. I do recall some of your nefarious plans from way back, but I have no doubt you have refined them and reforged them into something magnificent.

Forrister

Si disuissem tu, necavissem tu.
I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you

[Tigerkid14]

Hey Katharyn

Okay, so, Darla worries me, but not as much as Drusilla worries me. Which I guess is kinda the point, but still...

Somehow, I too believe that Ethan will somehow manage to survive this. I think Tiger will manage to survive as well, whether he does so with or without Ethan's help remains to be seen. I don't see him as being Ethan's pet and/or familiar, I think Ethan is his pet and/or familiar. Then again, I was raised around cats.

The part with Willow and Tara was so beautiful, but knowing what we know about W&H's plans (i.e. Lilah's plans) to make everything more difficult, I can't help but see it as the calm before the storm....also you teasing us by showing us the happiness and stuff right before it gets destroyed. According to that fancy education I'm getting, that's called Dramatic Irony and somehow, I think you're having fun with it.

In Shakespeare, we have moved on from Twelfth Night, through Midsummer's Night Dream, and are just now starting King Lear. I feel tired.

Loved the update...both of them. Keep up the good work.

Meghan

~As every cat owner knows, nobody owns a cat. ~Ellen Perry Berkeley

[Katharyn]

Hey Kerry, I like your description of the girls. They are dedicated to their duties and trying to live their lives at the same time. Eventually all this is going to stack up and something might start to give, but I'm giving nothing away when I say it's not the love (or the loving!)

As for badness? Yeah, it's coming. I've been building to it for years now! But still you can be assured of them staying happy and together.

And your exactly right, it is a bridge to the ending and things are really starting to happen in the next few parts (though even then not everything is going to have revealed itself.) By then the opportunities to show cuteness will be reduced, but it'll always be there behind the scenes.

The overall objective of the plan hasn't changed, but there's a lot of fun stuff on the way to it.

Thanks so much.

Meghan - Don't ask me about King Lear I never read that one - though I've seen the film LOL.

Hmm, who to worry about more with Darla and Dru? Darla is more focused and more likely to kill you outright. On the other hand Dru has big ambitions (when she can remember them!) and though she might be interested enough in you to let you live, the end when it comes would be... inventive. So all in all, I'd agree - I'd worry more about Dru!

As for Ethan... he's got a cat now. Somehow that might see him through. To be honest his fate isn't integral to the story (beyond what he needs to do) so I could still go either way... but on the other hand he has a cat.

Glad you liked the T/W goodness. I always want to slip that in there and if it won't come with a 'plot' part then I choose to show it anyway and use a 'loving' part with a plot undertone instead. The love, for me, is the point.

I'll say it again though. Happy and together. They'll never split in my story. Period. What happens around them... that's a different matter. I'm just aiming to prove it can be done. No drama in their relationship - that would be the easy way to create drama and an easy way out.

So dramatic irony? Perhaps. I'm definitely having fun with it. But the focus might not be where you expect (as will become clear in coming parts.)

Thanks so much for feeding back.

BTW - Ever done "The Taming of the Shrew" in Shakespeare? I think it's seen as a lesser play by some, certainly not one of the classics, but it is one of my faves.

Love your signature line BTW! So true!

Next part tomorrow night or Saturday morning.

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - Unexpected Turns (Part 200)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Holland and Ethan meet and Ethan is informed of more requirements.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: Okay, this is a cheat. Yes – it is part 200 but really we passed that a little while back due to having some parts with A,B,C suffix etc. And yes, I am setting something up here.
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Unexpected Turns

By

Katharyn Rosser



“Mr Rayne, how very good to see you again,” his visitor said.

Here in the middle of the plaza outside City Hall was a strange place for them to meet – but in broad daylight perhaps it was actually one of the least likely to see a visit from two young ladies who ought to be in their classes at college right now.

Both of their faces were known – and each of them probably wanted to avoid a meeting with the Witches in question.

While that might’ve been better facilitated somewhere indoors, the visitor had wanted to meet out in the open air.

And it couldn’t be because he had anything to fear. The fear here would all be very one way.

“Holland, I was pleased to get your call. How can I help you? Or is this a social visit?” he asked.

He doubted that Holland Manners had actually indulged in a purely social event – with no other overtones – for the last thirty years. At least not outside his own family circle.

The idea that he might do so now, with a freelance contractor he barely even knew… Still interactions with others required pleasantries. With some species of demon that involved a careful series of clicks. Other’s offering your throat to them as a sign of trust and submission.

Humans were at the same time easier and more difficult to socialise with, but he considered himself able to deal with anyone or anything that had a sentient mind.

At least anyone/thing with a sentient mind that didn’t know him too well.

Those who knew him… they tended to have found out that he was strictly out for himself and blessed Chaos. Demons seemed to take that as a given. Humans, for some reason, always seemed to be surprised by it. As a species, he mused, we have a rare talent for self-delusion.

“Walk with me if you will, I’d like to see more of the town after having so much to do with it,” Holland said. “And I have another stop to make with our mutual friend after we’re done so I’ll have to be fairly brief.”

“Not a social call then,” Ethan concluded, a smile touching the corners of his mouth.

“Hardly,” Holland said, “But thank you for thinking it might have been. My wife would be impressed that anyone thought I could take time out for them as I get to make so little for her.”

Talk of wives.

Hmm.

Not an area of expertise for him. He knew plenty about women, diverse women at that, and many of them had been wives. Just not his wife.

“I hope this isn’t nostalgia that I sense,” he said to change the subject as Holland looked over the government district of Sunnydale. Nostalgia in a man in Holland Manner’s position was all too often the result of imminent danger.

Memorising what wouldn’t be here for much longer?

“Worried?” Holland asked him.

“Not worried, I was just hoping you weren’t here for a last chance to look at the place,” he replied.

Holland smiled. “Concerned then?”

He nodded. There was no denying it. “In a little less than seven weeks I’m going to open the local Hellmouth – and permanently at that. That’s not something you do lightly or without expectation of it being reversed.”

He was going fishing now – looking for some clue that Holland was about to reverse what would happen. That he was able to. Between this man and the former Mayor… no one was really telling him anything. “Not unless you’re motivated by something other than money. And I can’t serve Chaos if I’m dead.”

And there was that slight smile again. “Quite. Tell me your concerns, Mr Rayne.”

Somehow he felt small…cowardly for even raising the subject.

And of course he was a coward, smart men were, but not about these sort of things. He was perfectly happy to take risks – just not overly foolish ones. “The trouble is I know it can’t be reversed.”

What Darla had demanded, and Holland had confirmed he was to do, wasn’t just a crack that would allow the hell dimension to access this one in some limited way. It wasn’t like a revolving door or something that would be resealed again. At least not without more magical power than he was aware existed in these times.

“I’ll be altering the whole matrix of the physical and mystical sides of a Hellmouth,” he said. “This is for keeps. So you either want me to fail, or you know something I don’t.”

“Perhaps I want the End of Days,” Holland suggested. “Or perhaps it’s all three.”

No answers there then.

“You’re sure you want me to go through with this?” he asked. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked the question. He’d rather been hoping this visit would either give him more information or call it off altogether.

“Quite certain thank you, though I understand your need for clarification,” Holland conceded. “Ending the world accidentally wouldn’t look good on anyone’s résumé.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll understand too that I’m concerned about it being the end of the world – or rather what will happen to me in that process,” Ethan explained.

If he’d been able to step off this world he’d have allowed the whole place to burn – but this was all looking rather imminent and immediate. Imminent danger and immediate threats were so much worse than hypothetical or far-off ones.

Besides, though he hardly believed the world would actually end – nor that the hell dimensions would take over – the almost inevitable human nuclear response wasn’t something he wanted to be around for either. Bullets and missiles wouldn’t do the job so they’d be forced to turn to their most self-destructive weapons.

“Surely you don’t think we wish you harm?” Holland protested.

Did he think that?

No.

If they wanted him harmed he’d be in pieces in the stomach of a hellhound by now. “I think you might not be too bothered about an independent contractor. I’m under no illusion that’s part of our value to an organisation such as yours. But more importantly I know some of the rumours about your senior partners and their involvement in the End of Days. They have a… Shall we say they have an affinity for each other?”

Holland smiled. Of course he did… that was what Holland did. He smiled. And it was utterly disarming. “That might well be true and one day we’ll have to discuss just where you heard those rumours, and the specifics of them. But not today – it’s too nice a day for such worries.”

“So?” Ethan asked.

“So?” Holland echoed.

“Are you confident I’ll be stopped?” Ethan asked. It seemed clear, if this wasn’t the End of Days, that the process of approaching an apocalypse was more important than the result.

If he was expected to be stopped… That could lead to other problems, or would have done if he’d had any intention of being around at the end. All of this was going to happen by remote control. He’d be a thousand miles away when the Hellmouth actually opened.

Once more, there was a Holland smile. But this one seemed a little more threatening.

Just a little.

“I sincerely hope not Ethan, that would be a breach of contract and we take that sort of thing very, very seriously,” he explained. “A man’s word is his bond and his contract is his life. For you not to do your best work, in anticipation of being stopped would be… unfortunate. For you.”

Ethan considered the words and the sentiment behind them. He didn’t doubt that Holland could smile and tell him black was white.

Then two minutes later he’d argue the very opposite.

And Ethan knew he’d believe it because the man was a lawyer. A professional liar of the highest order.

But Ethan was a skilled liar in his own right. He knew how to read the signs, and Holland didn’t seem to be lying to him.

So they wanted him to complete his contract and final payment wouldn’t be forthcoming until then… That was the subtext. Along with the end of his life, should the contract be in breach.

The contract required he succeed and Holland clearly needed him to do so. He believed that now, there wasn’t that lingering doubt anymore. “Yes, yes it’d be very unfortunate.”

He wasn’t sure whether this was worse or better than he’d originally feared. It only left a few other possibilities.

Assuming he succeeded he’d get paid – pro.

The Hellmouth would be fully opened – con.

“Of course, Ethan,” Holland started to say, drawing his attention again. “No one said you needed to be here at the appointed hour. I’m sure a man of your talents could arrange a… delayed opening? This is, partly, why I’m here today.”

“Concern for me? I’m touched.” And he didn’t believe it for a minute. It was reassuring to know that he wasn’t expected to be here though – not that he’d had any intention of been anyway.

Holland laughed – they both knew how preposterous concern would be. Each of them cared for each other only in terms of getting the job done and getting paid for it without dying.

His employer explained a little. “My concern was more for someone – someone else – that we wouldn’t want to be caught up in these events.”

“Ah, and who would that be?” Ethan asked. This was new, a complication or an opportunity? There were still the Witches and Ripper to consider. Would this be something that’d draw their attention to him? They’d be profoundly opposed to what he was going to do…

“Drusilla,” Holland said simply as if it was an explanation in itself.

Now there was a surprise.

The insane vampire had some value to Wolfram and Hart then? She wasn’t even a contractor.

“What about her?”

“We have reasons for not wanting her here when it happens,” Holland said. “For not wanting to take that risk with her existence.”

“Then I suggest you tell her,” he replied without showing anything but respect. “She certainly wouldn’t listen to me, and if she did it would be a prelude to pulling my tongue out – or something else I really don’t want to happen.”

“Naturally.”

“And if she didn’t do it then Darla surely would. I’d be dead before I took three steps if I tried to tell her what to do,” he said.

Holland nodded understandingly. “What you have to appreciate is that one rarely tells Drusilla anything – and certainly not anything you want kept confidential,” Holland told him. “This is something we wouldn’t want to get out and Drusilla just can’t resist letting things slip. She’s so… childlike.”

“What is she to you anyway?” Ethan asked, curious about why they’d want her preserving, and wondering how he was going to keep her out of his mind.

Holland looked to be considering, whether that was about whether to tell the truth or which version of it, he had no idea. Something to think about there though – this answer wasn’t clear cut even for him. “She’s an asset we wish to maintain for the future. And in a very real sense she’s the mother of this whole realm of possibilities. Without her…” Holland shrugged. “Well, let’s just say that without her the last part of the Sunnydale story wouldn’t have been told at all.”

Intriguing. “And am I the father?” he wondered.

“More like a distant cousin. Perhaps by marriage.” Holland laughed again.

It was nice to know that one’s part was oh so small. But that was the nature of Chaos. The smallest thing could have the most profound, and unexpected, effects.

“I’m pleased to hear that you say that, your words do seem to indicate that there’s a future for her to be an asset in?” Ethan suggested, willing to go fishing once more.

A future in which there would be a Wolfram and Hart at least, one that still needed vampires for certain tasks. Even insane ones.

And he couldn’t see the creatures that came from the Hellmouth needing much by way of legal representation.

While there was a part of this firm that was eternal and – it was said – trans-dimensional, the form it took couldn’t be that resilient in the face of the final apocalypse. At some point a world that ended wouldn’t need lawyers anymore.

Perhaps a priesthood would be more appropriate.

And that had to worry a man like Holland. Unless there wasn’t anything to worry about.

“I have reason to be optimistic,” Holland confirmed to him, giving him what he needed. Always assuming he could trust the man.

“Good,” Ethan replied. “Like I said ending the world by accident wouldn’t look good on my résumé. Deliberately though… that’s another matter.”

He continued after Holland nodded. “But I’d prefer it if there were some other people around to read it and take advantage of my services in the future.”

“That’s firmly my intention,” Holland confirmed.

But was he telling the truth?

“I’m not certain I can help you with Drusilla though,” Ethan completed.

There was that Holland Manners smile again – it seemed almost paternally satisfied this time. “Excited at the prospect is she?” he asked.

“Positively child-like in her glee.”

“I thought she might be, but that’s the key to Drusilla, Mr Rayne. Right now the idea of the apocalypse is shiny and new to her. Within a few hours of it happening she’ll be bored and looking for something else to amuse her.”

“And I thought I was so entertaining,” Ethan protested, but from what he’d seen of the vampire Holland’s assessment seemed accurate.

“Oh, it’s no reflection on you Ethan, I assure you of that. To distract Drusilla, and in this case save her, you must offer her –”

“Something shinier and newer?” he suggested, interrupting his employer.

“Precisely,” Holland agreed.

He thought about that for a second or two as they continued to walk. “Do you happen to know of something shinier than the apocalypse?”

“It’s a challenge I admit,” Holland said, “But fortunately for both of us I have something in mind. I’m not sure we could have come up with something shinier ourselves but sometimes things just fall into your lap.”

“Oh?” Ethan asked, thinking of the waitress from the diner a few nights before. She’d fallen into his lap too.

“An old obsession of Drusilla’s. As you may have noticed she’s – ”

“Vicious? Insane?” he suggested.

Holland smiled. “I was going to use the words ‘clingy and needy,’ in a homicidally powerful way. Glorious, if you like.”

That might work as a definition. It just might. “You have something new for her to cling to? Someone? And if you have all this planned, why are you telling me?”

“I have no real control over this individual. Arrival here – if it happens – will be pure happenstance. So I just need you to make sure their paths cross. The individual I intend to try and direct towards Sunnydale will naturally gravitate towards Miss Maclay and Miss Rosenberg on arrival. And it isn’t an employee or contractor of the firm. All I can do is plant stories and rumours in their path,” Holland explained.

“Naturally gravitate?” Ethan queried. That didn’t sound very definite, nor very likely when it came to – what he assumed was – a vampire.

“You’re quite right – I mean unnaturally gravitate. A confrontation with Miss Maclay and Miss Rosenberg would be unfortunate given their past success at dealing with demons – and this one has certainly never faced anything quite like them in its existence.”

So it was a vampire. Surely?

“So I need to place Drusilla in this demon’s path before they get to him? Her?” Ethan asked.

Male or female? He wasn’t sure that once the demon got into the formerly human shell there was much of a difference apart from the physical.

Holland nodded. “They need to be a mutual distraction for each other. To save Drusilla, get her out of town and to prevent a confrontation that might put my Two Roses on alert. If that happens to give you some leeway too… that can only be a good thing.”

Two Roses? That wasn’t the first time he’d heard Holland refer to the Witches that way.

“And you want me to do this before or after I end the world?” Ethan asked.

His schedule was pretty full by night when vampires operated. There was so much to be done and so few nights to bring about the End of Days. He still needed to track down the rest of the power sources he needed. The last time he’d spoken to Holland about that he’d suggested the Witches themselves… not that that was likely to happen.

Holland’s smile was, once again, unidentifiable for what it really meant. “Whenever you please. Just make sure Drusilla isn’t here in town when the Hellmouth opens. You’ll have the bait – that should be all you need to distract her. If that fails – you need to find another way. I’d use the time until then to make sure she sees the value in going with you when you need her to. It’ll be easier that way than just trying it on the night.”

All that was easier said than done, he suspected but there was no point in arguing about it, or even making the point to Holland. He had his instructions. Drusilla needed to be preserved, one way or another. “What about Darla?” he checked, just in case.

“What about her?”

Ethan smiled, despite the sinking feeling that things were about to get out of hand. Darla was hardly going to react well to Drusilla’s desertion – even if she couldn’t sense he had any part to play in it.

On the other hand if he had to choose a vampire to save… it’d be Drusilla rather than her companion. “Do I know this person? This demon?”

“By reputation I’m sure, it’s a happy coincidence the individual in question happens to be on the right continent. Just in the nick of time – as you might have said,” Holland said.

“I try to avoid cliché whenever I can,” Ethan replied.

Holland smiled, genuinely amused this time.

On the other hand one could take refuge in cliché when one didn’t know what else to say. “Bloody Hell,” he exclaimed as the name was revealed to him.

“Quite,” Holland agreed.

***********

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - Unexpected Turns (Part 200)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Holland and Ethan meet and Ethan is informed of more requirements.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: Okay, this is a cheat. Yes – it is part 200 but really we passed that a little while back due to having some parts with A,B,C suffix etc. And yes, I am setting something up here.
Thanks To: My own special woman Louise who helps me so much with this on top of everything else. Those other friends and family who’ve also helped us overcome everything that was put in my way. Celia and Kerry who shaped this story and continue to do so when I think back to what they told me in the past. Xita for keeping the story hanging around and continuing to give us TKTWATBW.


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Unexpected Turns

By

Katharyn Rosser



“Mr Rayne, how very good to see you again,” his visitor said.

Here in the middle of the plaza outside City Hall was a strange place for them to meet – but in broad daylight perhaps it was actually one of the least likely to see a visit from two young ladies who ought to be in their classes at college right now.

Both of their faces were known – and each of them probably wanted to avoid a meeting with the Witches in question.

While that might’ve been better facilitated somewhere indoors, the visitor had wanted to meet out in the open air.

And it couldn’t be because he had anything to fear. The fear here would all be very one way.

“Holland, I was pleased to get your call. How can I help you? Or is this a social visit?” he asked.

He doubted that Holland Manners had actually indulged in a purely social event – with no other overtones – for the last thirty years. At least not outside his own family circle.

The idea that he might do so now, with a freelance contractor he barely even knew… Still interactions with others required pleasantries. With some species of demon that involved a careful series of clicks. Other’s offering your throat to them as a sign of trust and submission.

Humans were at the same time easier and more difficult to socialise with, but he considered himself able to deal with anyone or anything that had a sentient mind.

At least anyone/thing with a sentient mind that didn’t know him too well.

Those who knew him… they tended to have found out that he was strictly out for himself and blessed Chaos. Demons seemed to take that as a given. Humans, for some reason, always seemed to be surprised by it. As a species, he mused, we have a rare talent for self-delusion.

“Walk with me if you will, I’d like to see more of the town after having so much to do with it,” Holland said. “And I have another stop to make with our mutual friend after we’re done so I’ll have to be fairly brief.”

“Not a social call then,” Ethan concluded, a smile touching the corners of his mouth.

“Hardly,” Holland said, “But thank you for thinking it might have been. My wife would be impressed that anyone thought I could take time out for them as I get to make so little for her.”

Talk of wives.

Hmm.

Not an area of expertise for him. He knew plenty about women, diverse women at that, and many of them had been wives. Just not his wife.

“I hope this isn’t nostalgia that I sense,” he said to change the subject as Holland looked over the government district of Sunnydale. Nostalgia in a man in Holland Manner’s position was all too often the result of imminent danger.

Memorising what wouldn’t be here for much longer?

“Worried?” Holland asked him.

“Not worried, I was just hoping you weren’t here for a last chance to look at the place,” he replied.

Holland smiled. “Concerned then?”

He nodded. There was no denying it. “In a little less than seven weeks I’m going to open the local Hellmouth – and permanently at that. That’s not something you do lightly or without expectation of it being reversed.”

He was going fishing now – looking for some clue that Holland was about to reverse what would happen. That he was able to. Between this man and the former Mayor… no one was really telling him anything. “Not unless you’re motivated by something other than money. And I can’t serve Chaos if I’m dead.”

And there was that slight smile again. “Quite. Tell me your concerns, Mr Rayne.”

Somehow he felt small…cowardly for even raising the subject.

And of course he was a coward, smart men were, but not about these sort of things. He was perfectly happy to take risks – just not overly foolish ones. “The trouble is I know it can’t be reversed.”

What Darla had demanded, and Holland had confirmed he was to do, wasn’t just a crack that would allow the hell dimension to access this one in some limited way. It wasn’t like a revolving door or something that would be resealed again. At least not without more magical power than he was aware existed in these times.

“I’ll be altering the whole matrix of the physical and mystical sides of a Hellmouth,” he said. “This is for keeps. So you either want me to fail, or you know something I don’t.”

“Perhaps I want the End of Days,” Holland suggested. “Or perhaps it’s all three.”

No answers there then.

“You’re sure you want me to go through with this?” he asked. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked the question. He’d rather been hoping this visit would either give him more information or call it off altogether.

“Quite certain thank you, though I understand your need for clarification,” Holland conceded. “Ending the world accidentally wouldn’t look good on anyone’s résumé.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll understand too that I’m concerned about it being the end of the world – or rather what will happen to me in that process,” Ethan explained.

If he’d been able to step off this world he’d have allowed the whole place to burn – but this was all looking rather imminent and immediate. Imminent danger and immediate threats were so much worse than hypothetical or far-off ones.

Besides, though he hardly believed the world would actually end – nor that the hell dimensions would take over – the almost inevitable human nuclear response wasn’t something he wanted to be around for either. Bullets and missiles wouldn’t do the job so they’d be forced to turn to their most self-destructive weapons.

“Surely you don’t think we wish you harm?” Holland protested.

Did he think that?

No.

If they wanted him harmed he’d be in pieces in the stomach of a hellhound by now. “I think you might not be too bothered about an independent contractor. I’m under no illusion that’s part of our value to an organisation such as yours. But more importantly I know some of the rumours about your senior partners and their involvement in the End of Days. They have a… Shall we say they have an affinity for each other?”

Holland smiled. Of course he did… that was what Holland did. He smiled. And it was utterly disarming. “That might well be true and one day we’ll have to discuss just where you heard those rumours, and the specifics of them. But not today – it’s too nice a day for such worries.”

“So?” Ethan asked.

“So?” Holland echoed.

“Are you confident I’ll be stopped?” Ethan asked. It seemed clear, if this wasn’t the End of Days, that the process of approaching an apocalypse was more important than the result.

If he was expected to be stopped… That could lead to other problems, or would have done if he’d had any intention of being around at the end. All of this was going to happen by remote control. He’d be a thousand miles away when the Hellmouth actually opened.

Once more, there was a Holland smile. But this one seemed a little more threatening.

Just a little.

“I sincerely hope not Ethan, that would be a breach of contract and we take that sort of thing very, very seriously,” he explained. “A man’s word is his bond and his contract is his life. For you not to do your best work, in anticipation of being stopped would be… unfortunate. For you.”

Ethan considered the words and the sentiment behind them. He didn’t doubt that Holland could smile and tell him black was white.

Then two minutes later he’d argue the very opposite.

And Ethan knew he’d believe it because the man was a lawyer. A professional liar of the highest order.

But Ethan was a skilled liar in his own right. He knew how to read the signs, and Holland didn’t seem to be lying to him.

So they wanted him to complete his contract and final payment wouldn’t be forthcoming until then… That was the subtext. Along with the end of his life, should the contract be in breach.

The contract required he succeed and Holland clearly needed him to do so. He believed that now, there wasn’t that lingering doubt anymore. “Yes, yes it’d be very unfortunate.”

He wasn’t sure whether this was worse or better than he’d originally feared. It only left a few other possibilities.

Assuming he succeeded he’d get paid – pro.

The Hellmouth would be fully opened – con.

“Of course, Ethan,” Holland started to say, drawing his attention again. “No one said you needed to be here at the appointed hour. I’m sure a man of your talents could arrange a… delayed opening? This is, partly, why I’m here today.”

“Concern for me? I’m touched.” And he didn’t believe it for a minute. It was reassuring to know that he wasn’t expected to be here though – not that he’d had any intention of been anyway.

Holland laughed – they both knew how preposterous concern would be. Each of them cared for each other only in terms of getting the job done and getting paid for it without dying.

His employer explained a little. “My concern was more for someone – someone else – that we wouldn’t want to be caught up in these events.”

“Ah, and who would that be?” Ethan asked. This was new, a complication or an opportunity? There were still the Witches and Ripper to consider. Would this be something that’d draw their attention to him? They’d be profoundly opposed to what he was going to do…

“Drusilla,” Holland said simply as if it was an explanation in itself.

Now there was a surprise.

The insane vampire had some value to Wolfram and Hart then? She wasn’t even a contractor.

“What about her?”

“We have reasons for not wanting her here when it happens,” Holland said. “For not wanting to take that risk with her existence.”

“Then I suggest you tell her,” he replied without showing anything but respect. “She certainly wouldn’t listen to me, and if she did it would be a prelude to pulling my tongue out – or something else I really don’t want to happen.”

“Naturally.”

“And if she didn’t do it then Darla surely would. I’d be dead before I took three steps if I tried to tell her what to do,” he said.

Holland nodded understandingly. “What you have to appreciate is that one rarely tells Drusilla anything – and certainly not anything you want kept confidential,” Holland told him. “This is something we wouldn’t want to get out and Drusilla just can’t resist letting things slip. She’s so… childlike.”

“What is she to you anyway?” Ethan asked, curious about why they’d want her preserving, and wondering how he was going to keep her out of his mind.

Holland looked to be considering, whether that was about whether to tell the truth or which version of it, he had no idea. Something to think about there though – this answer wasn’t clear cut even for him. “She’s an asset we wish to maintain for the future. And in a very real sense she’s the mother of this whole realm of possibilities. Without her…” Holland shrugged. “Well, let’s just say that without her the last part of the Sunnydale story wouldn’t have been told at all.”

Intriguing. “And am I the father?” he wondered.

“More like a distant cousin. Perhaps by marriage.” Holland laughed again.

It was nice to know that one’s part was oh so small. But that was the nature of Chaos. The smallest thing could have the most profound, and unexpected, effects.

“I’m pleased to hear that you say that, your words do seem to indicate that there’s a future for her to be an asset in?” Ethan suggested, willing to go fishing once more.

A future in which there would be a Wolfram and Hart at least, one that still needed vampires for certain tasks. Even insane ones.

And he couldn’t see the creatures that came from the Hellmouth needing much by way of legal representation.

While there was a part of this firm that was eternal and – it was said – trans-dimensional, the form it took couldn’t be that resilient in the face of the final apocalypse. At some point a world that ended wouldn’t need lawyers anymore.

Perhaps a priesthood would be more appropriate.

And that had to worry a man like Holland. Unless there wasn’t anything to worry about.

“I have reason to be optimistic,” Holland confirmed to him, giving him what he needed. Always assuming he could trust the man.

“Good,” Ethan replied. “Like I said ending the world by accident wouldn’t look good on my résumé. Deliberately though… that’s another matter.”

He continued after Holland nodded. “But I’d prefer it if there were some other people around to read it and take advantage of my services in the future.”

“That’s firmly my intention,” Holland confirmed.

But was he telling the truth?

“I’m not certain I can help you with Drusilla though,” Ethan completed.

There was that Holland Manners smile again – it seemed almost paternally satisfied this time. “Excited at the prospect is she?” he asked.

“Positively child-like in her glee.”

“I thought she might be, but that’s the key to Drusilla, Mr Rayne. Right now the idea of the apocalypse is shiny and new to her. Within a few hours of it happening she’ll be bored and looking for something else to amuse her.”

“And I thought I was so entertaining,” Ethan protested, but from what he’d seen of the vampire Holland’s assessment seemed accurate.

“Oh, it’s no reflection on you Ethan, I assure you of that. To distract Drusilla, and in this case save her, you must offer her –”

“Something shinier and newer?” he suggested, interrupting his employer.

“Precisely,” Holland agreed.

He thought about that for a second or two as they continued to walk. “Do you happen to know of something shinier than the apocalypse?”

“It’s a challenge I admit,” Holland said, “But fortunately for both of us I have something in mind. I’m not sure we could have come up with something shinier ourselves but sometimes things just fall into your lap.”

“Oh?” Ethan asked, thinking of the waitress from the diner a few nights before. She’d fallen into his lap too.

“An old obsession of Drusilla’s. As you may have noticed she’s – ”

“Vicious? Insane?” he suggested.

Holland smiled. “I was going to use the words ‘clingy and needy,’ in a homicidally powerful way. Glorious, if you like.”

That might work as a definition. It just might. “You have something new for her to cling to? Someone? And if you have all this planned, why are you telling me?”

“I have no real control over this individual. Arrival here – if it happens – will be pure happenstance. So I just need you to make sure their paths cross. The individual I intend to try and direct towards Sunnydale will naturally gravitate towards Miss Maclay and Miss Rosenberg on arrival. And it isn’t an employee or contractor of the firm. All I can do is plant stories and rumours in their path,” Holland explained.

“Naturally gravitate?” Ethan queried. That didn’t sound very definite, nor very likely when it came to – what he assumed was – a vampire.

“You’re quite right – I mean unnaturally gravitate. A confrontation with Miss Maclay and Miss Rosenberg would be unfortunate given their past success at dealing with demons – and this one has certainly never faced anything quite like them in its existence.”

So it was a vampire. Surely?

“So I need to place Drusilla in this demon’s path before they get to him? Her?” Ethan asked.

Male or female? He wasn’t sure that once the demon got into the formerly human shell there was much of a difference apart from the physical.

Holland nodded. “They need to be a mutual distraction for each other. To save Drusilla, get her out of town and to prevent a confrontation that might put my Two Roses on alert. If that happens to give you some leeway too… that can only be a good thing.”

Two Roses? That wasn’t the first time he’d heard Holland refer to the Witches that way.

“And you want me to do this before or after I end the world?” Ethan asked.

His schedule was pretty full by night when vampires operated. There was so much to be done and so few nights to bring about the End of Days. He still needed to track down the rest of the power sources he needed. The last time he’d spoken to Holland about that he’d suggested the Witches themselves… not that that was likely to happen.

Holland’s smile was, once again, unidentifiable for what it really meant. “Whenever you please. Just make sure Drusilla isn’t here in town when the Hellmouth opens. You’ll have the bait – that should be all you need to distract her. If that fails – you need to find another way. I’d use the time until then to make sure she sees the value in going with you when you need her to. It’ll be easier that way than just trying it on the night.”

All that was easier said than done, he suspected but there was no point in arguing about it, or even making the point to Holland. He had his instructions. Drusilla needed to be preserved, one way or another. “What about Darla?” he checked, just in case.

“What about her?”

Ethan smiled, despite the sinking feeling that things were about to get out of hand. Darla was hardly going to react well to Drusilla’s desertion – even if she couldn’t sense he had any part to play in it.

On the other hand if he had to choose a vampire to save… it’d be Drusilla rather than her companion. “Do I know this person? This demon?”

“By reputation I’m sure, it’s a happy coincidence the individual in question happens to be on the right continent. Just in the nick of time – as you might have said,” Holland said.

“I try to avoid cliché whenever I can,” Ethan replied.

Holland smiled, genuinely amused this time.

On the other hand one could take refuge in cliché when one didn’t know what else to say. “Bloody Hell,” he exclaimed as the name was revealed to him.

“Quite,” Holland agreed.

***********

[chronic]

You tease! Who can this individual be? Someone from BtVS I'm guessing, but I can't think of many people who aren't already accounted for or dead in your universe.

I guess I'll have to wait and see...

[Forrister]

Hmmm, I have a suspicion or two and have made a list of possible suspects. The bit that concerns me is that W&H have specific plans for Dru - that in itself is a worry. I also wonder what they have as a back up in case Ethan can't pull off what he's supposed to. With W&H there are always wheels within wheels in a multi-dimensional, string theory sort of way.

Why is it you make me like the bad guys? I mean, I know they're bad, and up to no good, but I still have a kind of fondness for them. Well - most of them. I still can't stand Darla and have definite ideas about her permanent demise. I suspect you are lulling me with a false sense of security so that when they do the whole apocalyptic ending thing, I'll get a bit of a surprise. I fully expect to discover at the end that W&H is being run by Tiger in another cosmic identity, and the world is being taken over by kittens. (Says I as I type this with Brandy [the cat that is] on my lap - trying to chew the ends off the cord of my dressing gown)



Forrister

Quisque creat suus veritatem proprium.
We each create our own reality.

[Katharyn]

Hi Chronic

You make it sound like I've really been racking up the body count or something. Oh yeah, actually I kind of have. But not for long time now!

Yes, it is an individual from the canon. In the future parts (at least that I've written or planned) there are at least 5 canon characters still to join the fun (though one/some/all of them were so fleetingingly in the show(s) that you'd be forgiven for not remembering them.)

Unfortunately you're not going to get an immediate answer on who this particular person is. Not for several parts actually. But when we get there you'll know!

Thanks for checking in.

Kerry - Hmm, Tiger as the Senior Partner in W&H. It has possibilities.

But the world is run by cats - at least the world as much as they care about it anyway.

I always feel these parts are a little bit of a letdown. They reveal so little, but are necessary to show the plot is moving along. And I know I said a few parts ago that everything is ramping up now - but it really is! Honest! Once the action starts it's never going to stop!

As for who comes back, who dies and who rules the world... well, only one thing is certain - the girls will be, and remain, happy and together. The rest is all up for grabs.

Actually no... six canon characters still to be seen.

If that helps at all

Ooh, teasing is fun!

Thanks once more for helping to create this reality.

Katharyn

[Forrister]

I don't know if you recall way back when I gave my original suggestion for the permanent elimination of Oz. You vetoed it as being 'too violent'. (Remember - it involved a flagpole?) You may even still have the story somewhere. Can I put in a request for something just as interesting for Darla?

Forrister (Thinking particularly evil thoughts.)

Id in summum longurium quasi vexillum tollamusut videamus utrum quis id salutet, necne!
Let’s run it up the flagpole and see if anyone salutes it!