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Title: Dimension Dementia
Part: 12
Author: SallyMcFine
Feedback: I love feedback. Bring it on!
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All disclaimers apply
Thanks: To my beta, Mrs. McFine, for her editing and storyline skills that are out of this world.
Setting: AU/canon crossover
Summary: What happens when a shy, introverted girl is torn away from her world and deposited into a dimension full of vampires, demons, and...a girlfriend?
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Part 12 - Buzzing
"Okay, now hold your hands out, palms up."
Willow shifted her position so she was resting some of her weight on her heels instead of all on her knees. Kneeling on the floor felt awkward, but Tara had told her that the discomfort would help her focus. She turned her palms up and watched and Tara sprinkled a touch of sand and herbs into her palms.
"This is a simple levitation spell," Tara said. "I thought we'd start with a feather because it's light and easy to move. Later we can try some of the heavier things."
Willow nodded. "So I just try to pick it up with my mind?"
"Not exactly." Tara's brow furrowed. "It's more like...you form a pillow with your mind under the feather and move the pillow. At least, that's the easiest way to do it when you're learning."
"And what's this stuff for?" she asked, indicating the sand and herbs.
"The herbs are to help you focus - the foxglove stimulates your connection to the earth, and the yarrow helps it work - like a catalyst. The chamomile is to help you relax. And the sand acts like a lens to concentrate the energy you're sending out. You don't need all of this to do magic, but it helps for a beginner."
Willow looked dubious but didn't object.
"Now close your eyes and visualize the feather."
She obeyed, and Tara continued to instruct her in a low voice.
"Now think about the energy in your body collecting, and push your thoughts out from your belly toward the feather."
Willow opened her eyes. "My thoughts are streaming out of my belly? Why not my head?"
Tara sighed. "It's not your real thoughts from your head. It just makes it easier for some people to think of it that way. What it really is, it's magical energy that you're pulling mostly from the earth, concentrating in your crown chakra, and then pushing out through your solar plexus chakra."
Willow blinked. "Okay."
"Here, try again. Close your eyes."
Willow closed her eyes and tried to reorient her thoughts. It was Monday morning, and everyone else had piled out of the house early on their way to work or school with instructions to meet up at the Magic Box for dinner and research. Tara only had one class, and they had found themselves alone in the Summers house after everyone left. About a split second before it became awkward, Tara had cleared her throat and suggested that she try to teach Willow some magic. If Willow was anything like her counterpart, she would have a knack for it, and it might help them pinpoint the other Willow's inter-dimensional location.
It had sounded like as good an idea as any, certainly much better than sitting in silence. But Willow hadn't counted on the physical interaction she would have with Tara. The touches were innocent enough - smearing some oil on her forehead, sprinkling herbs into her hands - but Willow felt each touch like electric fire and tried hard not to show it. At least the confusing instructions about chakras and bellies were serving as a distraction.
She tried to do what Tara said, and imagined a stream of light emerging from her abdomen and gathering under the feather. As her fantasy gained shape, she saw the feather rising up to eye level and beginning a slow rotation in the air. A thought sprang into her mind to have the feather caress Tara's cheek and neck, but quickly crushed that thought. Instead she imagined the feather zooming upward at an angle and circling the light fixture, which was shapely and round just like...
"Willow? You can start now."
Willow's eyes snapped open and she was startled to see the feather still on the ground in front of her. It apparently hadn't moved at all.
"I had started," she said, chagrined. "I thought I was moving it."
Tara's voice was encouraging. "It can be hard to learn how to channel the energy the right way at first," she said. "Here, let me help you."
She took Willow's hands in her own, and Willow had to school herself not to flinch. She felt suddenly flustered, but Tara didn't appear to notice.
"Can you feel the energy from my hands flowing into yours?" Tara asked. "It's pretty easy to redirect it back outside of your body, like how it's easier to hit a tennis ball that's already in motion instead of trying to get it started from a standstill. The hardest part is pulling the energy out of the earth, especially when we're in a house and separated by the floor and foundation and everything."
Willow frowned. "Um, I don't think I feel anything."
Tara gripped her fingers tighter. "You don't feel that? It should feel tingly and in motion, like when you hold your hand under a faucet."
"I feel your hands, but I don't feel any motion," Willow said apologetically. She
was feeling tingles, but not the kind Tara probably meant.
Tara looked puzzled. "That's odd," she said. "Most people, even ones who can't perform magic, can sense it." She paused, thinking. "Here," she said, readjusting her grip on Willow's hands. "I'm going to float the feather myself, but I'm going to draw the energy through you."
Willow felt like she had disappointed Tara, although she wasn't quite sure why. "Okay."
Tara closed her eyes briefly and exhaled. She opened her eyes and stared at the feather with detached concentration.
It didn't budge.
Tara narrowed her eyes and stared harder at the feather, which stayed stubbornly put.
"Wow," Tara said, dropping Willow's hands. "Nothing. Not only can you not do magic, I can't even draw it through you. It's like it doesn't even register."
Willow blinked, feeling absurdly disappointed. "Are you sure? Maybe it's a bad feather."
Tara glanced at her, and back at the feather. It shot up from the floor and zoomed over to the mantel, where it gradually settled back down next to a picture of Joyce.
"I guess not." Willow brushed the herbs and sand from her hands into the paper bag they had come from and folded her arms across her chest. "Well, this was a waste of time."
Tara climbed to her feet. A strange mixture of disappointment and relief flitted across her face, so quickly that Willow wasn't sure if she had seen it at all.
"Not a total waste of time," she said. "We learned that you aren't attuned at all to magic, which might mean that there just isn't much in your world."
"How does that help us?" Willow asked, getting up as well.
"Well," Tara said with a thoughtful expression, "Willow's a really powerful witch. More powerful than me, and almost everyone we know, and probably a lot more people than that. In fact, I would have expected her to have figured out a way to get back herself by now - she's always experimenting with magic." A faint touch of disapproval tinged her tone, although Willow thought that perhaps Tara wasn't aware of it.
"So if your world doesn't have a lot of magical energy in it, then it might explain some things," Tara continued. "Maybe she isn't back here yet because she doesn't have much to work with."
"But if that's true, then how did I get here in the first place?" Willow asked. "Magic must have been involved."
Tara nodded. "Well, I don't know exactly. Maybe there were special circumstances that helped. Like, all kinds of forces aligned at the same time. A one in a million kind of situation."
"So all we have to do is figure out what the factors were, re-create them, and see if it works?" Willow asked.
"Yes. Figuring out what they all were will be the hard part - but this is the kind of thing that Giles is really good at. At least it gives us something to go on."
Willow nodded. Truth be told, she thought it sounded much more difficult than Tara was making it sound, but she wasn't about to cast any doubt on the theory. Tara was showing more excitement and life than she had in the whole time Willow had known her, excepting the very first time they met. Willow decided it suited her.
Tara gathered up the remnants of their magical experiment and started to climb the stairs to return them to her room. As she glanced at the clock, a speculative expression crossed her face.
"Hey Willow," she called from the stairs. "I have some time before my class starts. Do you want to try a mocha?"
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Willow's head was buzzing and her thoughts were racing. She had never before felt such clarity of mind and voice - as if her mind was a stewpot previously set to simmer, but was now at a rolling boil. Words spilled out of her mouth like rice from a bag.
"Anyway it just seems to me that from what everyone says it was chaos here for months. Buffy was dead - dead! People just don't die and come back from the dead. I can't even believe it. But when she was dead you all were trying to keep it together and keep the vampires from taking over the town, and I'm not surprised that everyone has drifted apart."
As Willow paused for another sip of her mocha Tara started to speak, but she didn't get to say anything as the redhead's motormouth resumed its fifth-gear cruising velocity.
"Don't try to pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about! I can totally tell from talking to Xander and Buffy that things haven't been like they used to be or what any of you consider normal. No one's talking to each other. And Dawn's hardly ever around and when she is, she's upset and teenagery. I'll bet the rest of you don't have any idea what's going on with her, or each other. Not that I'm going to betray anyone's confidence, so don't ask."
Tara blinked as the monologue stopped. "You seem to have picked up on a lot since you've been here."
Willow nodded vigorously. "You'd be surprised what people tell you when you're a quiet person, and when you just sit back and observe. It's like all people want is someone who's a good listener and then the floodgates just open. What are floodgates, anyway? You never see them around town. Is a floodgate like a dam? But yeah - I think everyone has been talking to me because I'm pretty quiet."
Tara smiled wryly. "I can see that."
"I don't know why I've never tried coffee before. It's really good. I always thought it was bad for you. Hey, I know that guy! How do I know that guy?"
Tara turned in her seat to see where Willow was pointing, but all she saw was the back of a head as the object of Willow's interest left the Espresso Pump.
"I saw him before when I was here with Xander and it drove me crazy then. I feel like I know him but I just can't place him. I hate it when that happens. It happens sometimes when I'm writing a paper and can't think of the right word to use."
"Do you write a lot of papers?" Tara asked.
"Yes, I'm an English major and it's practically all reading and writing. I mean, what else are you going to do when your major is English, right? It's not like you can do an experiment in a lab or anything. But people have to write up lab experiments too, because otherwise how will anyone else know what the results were? It's all about communication. I think that's why I like it. What's your Willow's major?"
"Computer science," Tara replied. "But she's taking an English class right now for her humanities requirement and she hates it."
Willow seemed stunned. "She
hates it?"
"Well, maybe that's too harsh. It doesn't come easily to her and she's not used to that. She has a paper due this week, actually - I guess she'll have to get an extension when she gets back. I don't think she's even read the book."
"What book?"
"The Prince and the Pauper."
Willow grinned. "I love Mark Twain. He's one of my favorites." She started to take another sip and then frowned as she noticed the mug was empty.
"I'm out of coffee! I should get another one. Do you want anything else?"
"No, thank you. I need to get to class. And Willow? Maybe you should call it a day with the coffee, since it's your first time."
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Willow rolled over and exhaled in frustration as sleep continued to elude her. It had been an eventful night at the Magic Box. Giles had listened to Tara's theory that Willow's world had no magic in it and that was why they hadn't heard from their Willow with cautious optimism and had quickly swept up the group into a search for esoteric texts about magical dead zones. He had handed Willow a book almost as an afterthought, and she had noted with a mix of amusement and annoyance that it was the same one she had given back to him the previous day after she had finished reading it.
All in all, it had made for a boring night, especially compared to the afternoon. She cringed when she remembered how uncontrollably she had chattered at the coffee shop with Tara. It was so unlike her - but strangely, Tara hadn't seemed to mind. After Tara had left and the immediate effects of the caffeine wore off, she was left with a slightly drained, worn-out feeling that had been exacerbated by the evening spent with dusty books. And afterward, Tara had announced that she would accompany Buffy on patrol that night, leaving Willow to be dropped off at home with Dawn.
Dawn had quickly retreated to her room and Willow had done the same, but it seemed that the coffee wasn't done tormenting her, and she had been lying down for the better part of an hour without even feeling drowsy. Finally she could stand it no longer and got out of bed.
An idea had been nagging at her all evening, and with Tara and Buffy not expected home for a few more hours she thought she had enough time to complete it. She padded down the hallway to Tara and Willow's room, hesitating briefly before opening the door. She felt slightly guilty as she crossed the room and unplugged the computer from its power cord, but shook off the feeling by reasoning - she was doing Willow a favor, and in a strange way, since she was Willow's counterpart, this was sort of her computer too. Not really - but it made her feel a little better as she carried the machine back into her room.
The computer was on, and it beeped as she pushed a couple of buttons. Willow sighed in frustration as a dialog box opened. Of course a computer science major would password-protect her computer. She read the instructions, which said
Please swipe your finger or enter your password. Swipe your finger? She looked at the keyboard and noticed a rectangular pad nestled in the corner. Tentatively she moved her right index finger over the pad, and the computer beeped again. A new dialog box came up saying
Hello, Willow! The screen then resolved itself to a normal desktop.
"We might not have the same magical abilities, but at least we have the same fingerprints," she said, double-clicking on a document on the desktop that was titled "TP&P." She smiled when the document came up, totally blank except for two lines:
The Prince and the Pauper, by Willow Rosenberg. With a contented sigh, she settled back against the headboard as she began to type.