by tazraven » Tue Mar 16, 2010 11:46 am
Alright, so I know this is really weird, but here are another couple of chapters of this fic. I'm aware that it's been 2 years since I posted an update, but I hate leaving anything unfinished. So, as a reward to myself (and hopefully to any readers) for finishing my MA thesis and getting admitted to a PhD program, here are chapters 17 and 18 of Speak Easy. The rest to hopefully finished and posted this weekend. But we'll see.
Title: Speak Easy
Author: TazRaven (Sara)
Distribution: The Kitten Board, Through the Looking Glass, anyone else just ask.
Rating: PG-13 for language
Disclaimer: I do not own Willow or Tara, but you all know that.
Feedback: Yes, please, I love it.
Summary: Willow meets a woman and falls into a different world. How far will she go to save her life?
Notes: Special thanks to Elizabeth, my fiancé (wife now, hehe), for dealing with my writing obsession.
Chapter 17- February 20, 1931
2:53 am
So, this was it. This was the final chapter of my life. I’d never been a very lucky person, and there were only so many times a gun could be pointed at me and I would continue to live and tell the tale. I was almost positive my quota had been reached in the past week and a half.
But every cloud has a silver lining, or is it every silver lining has a cloud? Either way, I was thankful I wasn’t going to die yet. Judith had delivered her ultimatum, and it seemed that Murphy, having a shotgun practically shoved up his nose, had accepted it. It felt like the adventure I was sharing with Tara was coming full circle, as I was once again shoved unceremoniously into a car, a gun trained on my skull. Judith tagged along for the ride, her shotgun laid across her lap like a pet.
“Stupid guns,” I muttered to myself. “What purpose do they serve except to make me miserable?” The question went unanswered, silence filling the car as we rode towards Malone.
I stared out the window, the occasional porch light illuminating the scenery, then turned my gaze to Tara. If I was going to spend my last few hours looking at anything, it would be her. And even then, she was beautiful. Her light blue nightgown was visible even in the near dark, and it made my chest ache just to contemplate that I might not live long enough to kiss her again.
“Why Jude?” Tara’s whisper cut through the silence, the dismay very evident in her voice. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than five minutes alone with Judith strapped to a chair. And some hand grenades.
“Tara, there’s a depression going on. People are starving left and right. I can barely keep the farm, and you’re asking me why?”
I saw Tara bend her head down. “But, I thought, we’re family-” Tara’s voice broke, and as she lifted her head up I saw the tears in her eyes reflect the moonlight.
Judith shook her head from side to side and shifted the shotgun in her lap. “Oh, please, I mean really, it’s not like we saw each other a lot. A family get together once every ten years is not something I’d call being close.”
I could feel my blood surge with every word. “So what!” I yelled, unable to keep quiet any longer. “You’re just a bitch, who doesn’t deserve to know someone like Tara! She doesn’t need family like-”
The impact that came from the butt of Judith’s shotgun took me by surprise. I heard a scream and my world went blank. I woke up when I felt hands begin to pull me. They dragged me out of the car and dumped me onto the sidewalk. I landed on my back, then blinked a few times to clear my vision. Judith was looking down at me, a sneer plastered on her face. She bent down and moved her lips to my ear.
“I may have done this for the money, but it would have been worth it even without the cash. You make me sick, and you corrupted Tara. You’re an abomination in the eyes of the lord.” She stood back up and turned to Murphy, who handed her a brown bag. I looked around and saw Tara standing next to the car, Jimmy next to her, a gun pointed straight at her.
There was nothing I could say to her, and even if I’d wanted to, the bile in my stomach kept threatening to come up, and didn’t want to chance it. The wind blew and I could feel the right side of my face grow cold. I lifted my hand and touched the skin. My fingers came away sticky and red, and my world went black again.
Chapter 18- February 20, 1931
5:26 am
“-You understand?”
“I, uh, yeah, I got it.”
“Good, now get out of here.”
The sounds of disembodied voices woke me as I struggled to regain consciousness. Two voices, men’s voices. One I recognized, but the other…
I heard a door shut. My eyes opened and the world rushed back. Colors came into focus and I felt like my head would crack in half. I struggled to twist my neck and get a view of my surroundings, but trying to move sent new shots of pain through me. Nausea rose in me and I closed my eyes to keep myself from losing my last meal.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
“Will!”
Tara?
Moments later, I felt hands on my face, warm and soft. Tara. I tried to say her name, but could only make a small noise. My eyes opened again, and I looked into her face, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time I would wake up to that sight.
“Perhaps we should wake up our other guest.”
I looked around, this time with only minor pain shooting through my neck and head. We were in a dim room. Tara helped me onto my feet. For a moment, I thought I would pass out again, but I tensed my muscles and urged my body to keep going. Tara’s hands had a strong grip on my upper arms. I looked at her and knew that, no matter what was about to happen, it was worth it.
Turning to my right, I saw a large black desk with two chairs in front of it. To the side of the desk stood a man in a cream colored suit. His figure was short and thin, and if I had passed him on the street, I probably wouldn’t have looked twice. He had dark brown hair and the lightest blue eyes I had ever seen. They glittered like ice, even in the dim room.
“Ms. Rosenberg.” He spoke with a deep accent, but his voice was soft. “I assume that I can call you that, hmm Ms. Rosenberg?”
“It’s Will,” I said through gritted teeth. “Can I call you asshole?” Tara’s grip tightened on my arms.
His laughed softly, but the smile on his face never reached his eyes. “Mr. Malone will be fine. You know, I think I understand why my boys had so much trouble chasing you and Ms. Maclay down for two weeks.” He grinned, showing his teeth. “You’re just full of fire, aren’t you?”
I said nothing. He motioned for me and Tara to sit as he went behind the desk and took his place in the chair. Placing his elbows on the desk, he put his hands together and looked at me. “I’ve never been a fan of weak men, Ms. Rosenberg. You are most certainly not weak. You’re most certainly not a man, either. I think, had you actually been one, I would have offered you a job. Anyone with the loyalty and gumption you’ve shown would have been a valuable asset. Of course,” he said, “I can see by the expression on your face that right now you would just rather kill me.” He gave a small, amused smile. “And I almost appreciate that.”
He spread his hands over the desk and turned his attention to Tara. “And you, Ms. Maclay, have been quite the slippery fish.” As his eyes trailed her face, I could feel the heat in my body rise.
“I almost feel sorry for you both, going through all of this trouble just for a dipshit like Warren Mears.” Malone laughed, then reached his hands down behind the desk. I heard a drawer open and close, then watched as he laid a glass jar on his desk. I almost lost what little food was left in my stomach as Warren’s empty eyes stared back at me. I heard a small sob come from Tara, and reached my hand over to hold hers. Her fingers felt cool in my hand.
Malone gave a tight-lipped smile at our obvious discomfort. “Of course, on the plus side, I got myself a nice warning to anyone else who ever tries to steal my money.”
“Why bring us here?” Tara asked the question softly beside me and I felt her fingers grip mine. “Why not just kill us?”
Malone chuckled and tapped the top of the glass jar containing Warren’s head. “Not to put too sentimental a point on it, Ms. Maclay, but you have a lovely singing voice. It would be a shame to slit that pretty little throat.” He smiled, “And besides, you’re a name.” He cleared his throat and leaned forward slightly. “You just need incentive, to keep that mouth quiet.”
“Leave her alone,” I growled. “A name. If you’re not gonna kill us, then why bring us here?” I asked.
“Her,” Malone said.
“Her?”
“Her,” he repeated. “I said I wouldn’t kill her. I said nothing about you. You’re the incentive.”
I had no time react. The click of a pistol. The sound of a gunshot. I felt something impact my chest, and looked down. Red began to radiate outward from a single point on my nightgown and I looked up. Smoke curled from the muzzle of a small gun that Malone held in his right hand.
Tara.
I felt her hand grip mine, her skin warmer than before.
Tara.
I looked into her eyes, as her gaze dropped to my chest. My binding? Could she see my binding? No, that wasn’t right.
Tara.
Her mouth opened. I heard a sound. She was saying my name. Singing it? I could see her, on the stage, the first night I saw her. She was singing, wearing that blue dress, underneath the soft light.
Could she see me? Did she know it was me? Did she know that I loved her?
Tara?
How far will she go to save her life?
Find out in Speak Easy
Hello Sara, how's it going?
I'm kinda sad...this was such a great story and I selfishly want more. But kudos to you. 
