DaddyCat
Thanks for reading! The underworld is indeed a scary place, and not for the uninitiated.
nightmask
It seems everyone is quite concerned about the orpheus issue

It'll be a bit simpler than that, or maybe you could say more complicated?
Best Name
Willow's time in England was definitely transformative, and somewhat traumatic I think, even in canon. I do think that Willow's a much happier camper in canon, but it's definitely a mixed bag, especially after what happens in this chapter!
Dun dun dun!!!
Ch 4
Willow's eyes widened. "H - Hades?"
D'Hoffryn shrugged elaborately. "It seems he has an interest in meeting you."
"Would I be harmed or - or forced to do anything, or restrained, and would you bring me back with you? No lost time or unwanted passengers?" she rattled off.
"Certainly," D'Hoffryn inclined his head.
"Well... okay," Willow said, and D'Hoffryn disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Willow was nearly done cleaning the crushed red crystals off the bathroom floor when he reappeared and dragged her through a portal. They spun through dark space for long enough that Willow gave him a look. He shrugged and said, "You didn't honestly think interdimensional travel was always instantaneous, did you?"
And then they arrived, Willow slightly off-put by the puff of smoke she found herself in. This plane was bare and rocky, and everything seemed to tilt slightly toward the center, where two gods sat on twin thrones.
"Ah! D'Hoffryn! What's new? So good to see you!" the male god said. His face was pleasant and round, and if he were wearing more robes Willow didn't think he would resemble a human anymore.
"Certainly," D'Hoffryn inclined his head.
"And this is the witch, you awful lich?" Hades said, circling Willow.
"The very same," D'Hoffryn agreed pleasantly. "But didn't I order a feast?"
Hades snapped his fingers, and a great table appeared, with every sort of food expected in Greece: roasted lamb, whole chickens, an array of fruits and olives, and so on. "Please, my dear lady, sit! Just come and try a bit!" he said pleasantly, and four chairs appeared around the table.
The goddess Persephone approached, and Willow found herself wondering at the plainness of these gods. Despite how homely she looked, she seemed nice enough, although she seemed to be hallucinating a cloud of flies around the food. D'Hoffryn sat, and dug in.
"Come now," he said when he noticed Willow was not touching the food. "Hades' table is the finest in the world. You wouldn't want to be rude," he urged.
"Indeed," Hades added. "I would feel a horrid host if you didn't try some of my roast."
Willow smiled shyly and picked up a haunch, putting it on her plate. "So... how are things in this hell dimension, other than oddly rhymed?"
The goddess became more agitated, speaking up suddenly. "I am sure that my lord husband is not happy with the number of souls we receive of late," she said. "Those damn Christians are taking all of those with Greek blood, especially the warrior types."
Hades shot her a look. "Everything is quite well here, but won't you please have some beer?"
D'Hoffryn was amused. Willow focused on Persephone. "Warrior types?"
"We only receive those killed by violent means, of course," Persephone said, and now her eyelid was spasming.
Greek blood... violent means... Willow suddenly felt ill.
Hades cleared his throat loudly. "Perhaps an olive? Or some pomegranate?" he offered.
Willow stood, waving him off. "No, thank you, I
am familiar with Greek mythology. Please, Persephone... can you tell me the last time you received a soul?"
Persephone smiled broadly. "Yes, you're right," she said eagerly. "She's smart," she told D'Hoffryn.
Hades face was purple. "I won't have this, silly mortal! First my wife, and then that witch, and now you! It's an outrage!"
"She's doing well," Persephone informed Willow. "Three rivers left, and then a quick little dimensional jump and she's home," she said proudly.
Willow's heart stopped in her chest. "Where... where is she?"
Hades struck out at her with his fist, and D'Hoffryn grabbed her, snapping into extradimensional space before the punch connected. "I couldn't have him breaking my promise for me, could I?" he said pleasantly, ignoring the confused sobs of the mortal beside him. He sighed dramatically. "Another debt, paid. It's not my fault he couldn't trick you."
"I do so wish you would follow the path of vengeance, Willow."
Before the events of "Him"
Willow killed the car's engine and looked anxiously at the time.
7:32. Great, she thought, collapsing back onto her seat.
I really didn't need to borrow Xander's car for this.
She was wearing a grey suit with a deep red blouse, which Buffy had assured her repeatedly was not overdressing. For five minutes she sat in the car and anxiously adjusted her clothes, before deciding suddenly that she would suffer no more. She gathered a pile of folders and left the car, slamming the door perhaps a bit too hard as she made good on her escape.
The building, like most in Sunnydale, was unassuming, squat, and somewhat danker than should rightly be expected. It was well-lit, but eerily silent, although Willow supposed that might have been because she was still somewhat early.
The secretary who'd greeted her for her interview wasn't at the front desk, so Willow made a foray into the cubicles. She found hers quickly, judging from the grey placard. It was remarkably close to the entrance, and looked sterile and empty, with one lonely computer on the desk staring blankly at her.
Tara would hate this place, Willow thought suddenly, and then shook the thought off.
She booted her computer and wished she'd brought
A Sorcerer: The Biography of Jacob Williams, which had arrived from England only this morning. The coven claimed the book contained mention of extraplanar travel, but Willow had only had a few moments to glance at it before panicking and rushing out the door.
She stowed her folders, resigning herself to a day of blank grey walls.
"Willow Rosenberg," a smooth voice said, and Willow looked up - and up - to see what she was sure was one of the most beautiful computer programmers who'd ever lived. Rich, dark brown hair framed big blue eyes and pert lips, and the woman's very tall, shapely body was barely contained in a blue suit and a skirt which was so short it was almost indecent. The entire image was one of well made-up gorgeousness. "I'm Catherine Rochester."
"Uh - hi," Willow said awkwardly.
"It's good to meet you," Catherine said with a small smile, shaking Willow's hand with her surprisingly bulky one. "Would you like a tour?"
As Willow was acquainted with the coffee machine, lazer printer, and bathrooms, more people were arriving, though still not enough to fill half the cubicles. "How long have you been working here?" Willow asked.
"I moved with the company from Silicon Valley," Catherine informed her. "I've been here five years."
A top exec. "Do most people work from home?"
"We try to keep people in the office as much as possible, to keep ideas flowing. Everyone's more productive in an office environment. But up to a fourth of your hours can be done at home."
Willow nodded. They were standing outside her cubicle again. "Well... thanks for the tour!" she said.
Catherine inclined her head. "You'll be seeing me around. Now, Joey needs some help bringing together his project, will you check in with him?"
* * * *
By the time Willow pulled into the apartment's parking lot, it was almost dark. Xander'd moved out of his and Anya's shared apartment after the marriage fiasco, moving into a nondiscript apartment building. Willow was ashamed to admit that she hadn't been completely sure where exactly the apartment was when she got back from England. Last year, she'd been so distracted by her own problems, by the magic, that she hadn't visited often.
She knocked briskly on his door, and it almost instantly opened. "Hey Wills," Xander said, and then pulled her into a great bear hug. "Good day?"
"Yep," she said, chosing not to mention the printer fiasco. She pressed the key to the car into his hand. "Thank you so much for the car. I totally don't need one, though," she said.
"No problem, and hey, your first day. I mentioned how I wanted to drive you, right?"
She pushed him lightly. "Thanks, Mother."
"Want dinner? I made extra pasta." She nodded, and he started spooning it into two huge bowls. "Did you hear Buffy's plan?"
"The Spike plan?"
"I'm more concerned with the 'my apartment' part."
"Yeah," she sighed. "You were roommates before, it wasn't that bad."
"Okay, you know what? No pasta for you."
"Hey!" she giggled. "Okay, it's a horrible plan," she said flippantly, and then her tone became more serious. "I just don't understand why it matters to her so much, you know? I mean, sure, he's in Sunnydale High's basement, and plus, he's totally nuts. So, where does me caring fit in there?"
"What does it have to do with
my apartment?" Xander corrected, sitting at the table.
"Right," Willow said, and then her mind returned to the problem of Tara. Tara, who was in some sort of Hades dimension, trying to cross three more rivers, presumably out of the five. "There should be a way to get into Hades from here," she said suddenly, and Xander stared blankly at her. "All of the myths say that if you go into the right cave, it drops you off in Hades. I was thinking about calling Hermes, too, but he's notorious for killing people who do that. He's a busy guy, you know."
"Will," Xander put his hand on hers. "Are you sure you really want to be meddling with this? Remember Buffy," he reminded her.
She sighed and stared at her untouched food. "But they said she was
trying to get back."
"Maybe it'll only work right if you don't interfere."
She squirmed, uncomfortable with the idea. "They seemed so certain that she'd be able to make it out okay."
"Right," he said. "Also, isn't Hades hell? Will, why would you ever be talking about going to hell right now?"
"It's not exactly hell..." she sighed. "I just wish I had more books."
Xander grinned. "That's my Willow," he said.
* * * *
It was Saturday morning, drear and moist, and no Slayer obligations. She'd been through all the books four times, consulted with Giles, even scouted out the demon bar to no avail. She stared out of the window in the room she and Tara used to share, the guest room now, watching the great fir in the back yard slap wetly against the house in the rising wind. She would go to the forest today, not because she chose to, not even due to necessity. She would go because a cosmic force demanded it of her, demanded that Willow found her peace with the forest as she had with Tara's grave.
It wasn't easy for Willow to face down that tombstone, to ponder the reality of Tara's body resting deep underneath the ground. But to face the living memories in that forest would be crushing.
She sighed, jingling the keys to her and Buffy's clunker as she listlessly made her way downstairs. Buffy was, as usual, passed out, and Dawn was at Janice's. The house was silent and dead around her.
Tara, Willow moaned soundlessly as she closed the door.
Tara.
The drive was a short one, the streets as dead as her house was. Last time, she'd borrowed her parents' car, picking Tara up outside of her dorm.
Does that mean I'm grown up now? she wondered, reconsidering the sociocultural implications of car ownership.
She'd packed a lunch, tuna salad sandwiches with potato chips. Tara never asked where they were going, but Willow could feel the excitement radiating off her as she responded to Willow's questions about her lab. She'd been gone the weekend before, a field day to somewhere in Arizona, but she expained in her quiet way that the time was wasted. "Brandon mapped the site with the assumption that the river hadn't changed its course appreciably. At least now we know where the river flowed before, which might be helpful later."
Willow remembered the horrible stab of jealousy she'd felt at the man's name. "You're... um... so you spend lots of time there huh? At the lab?"
"Maybe more time than in my room," Tara conceded with a shy smile.
She said she was a lesbian, she was so clear, she definitely didn't change her mind in the last one point five days, okay Willow calm down. "You know, last night I thought about casting with the Doll's Eye crystal, but it didn't seem right to do without you."
Tara beamed at that, and Willow basked in her smile until the pavement ran out. She concentrated on avoiding the potholes, finally parking the car. "Here's it!" she said cheerfully. "Have you been here before?"
Tara shook her head, and Willow wondered once again how her hair must feel, wishing she had the guts to brush it out of Tara's face. "You don't have to hide from me," she burst out, turning beet red.
Tara peeked out from behind the curtain of her hair. "S-s-sorry. Habit." Her lip twisted.
Willow propelled herself out of the car. "It's called Meridian state park, which is just silly because it's tiny, but I guess there's no size restriction for state parks, and did you know more than half of California's land is state-owned? I mean, that's a lot of state park." She dug around and retrieved the lunches and blanket, barely taking a breath. "I could tell you all about the ecology of it, there's signs all over the place, I guess because they figure urbanites like me would come here and read all the signs because hello? Not usually big with the nature thing."
Tara had circled the car and stood listening to the Willowbabble. "Anyway," Willow wound down, "I thought you might like it because you always talk about all the pavements and buildings being strange."
"Thank you," Tara said softly, and Willow found herself entranced by the way the dappled sunlight reflected off her glorious blue eyes. It was Tara who broke off the gaze, leading Willow to the trailhead. They had lunch in a clearing surrounded by Douglas fir and pine trees, and Willow coaxed a story about a cat Tara used to own, and more about archeology. Afterward, they meandered along the trail.
There it was. The stone face that Willow had stopped Tara by, abruptly breaking off their conversation. She remembered the way the sunlight had filtered through the trees, making the rock pink and red. Willow stared at the rock, wondering where all the color went.
"Tara? There's something I really want - need - to talk to you about." Tara'd almost looked afraid, but didn't interrupt as Willow went on. "The thing... so, um, I guess usually you're supposed to ask beforehand, but... can this be a date?" It came out in a terrified rush of awkwardness.
"A what?"
Willow didn't even want to interpret the look on her face. "If that doesn't work for you it's, um, that's a good thing that you said it, because then I won't just be wondering all the time what was going on, and I think maybe in the future I shouldn't sleep at your dorm or maybe just on the floor like I was planning, and I'm really sorry for all this can we just forget I asked?"
There was a tiny smile on Tara's face, and she stepped forward, reaching out to separate Willow's wringing hands. She released them and held Willow's shoulders, leaning in, her body molding to Willow's stock-still form.
Willow closed her eyes and took the leap, and the rest of it was just like falling, or flying, a whirlwind of first times and expressive passion and pure magic that jarred to a halt with Oz's arrival, and then just as quickly sped up again, and the forest was there through it all, the first kiss and the first orgasm, "I love you" echoing through the branches. This was Tara's place, and after the summer in England Willow felt she understood it perhaps a little better. The Goddess was here. This is where Tara truly rested.
She spent the day walking among the trees, and the sky mourned with her, sending rain to mingle with her tears.