Rating: Right now, PG. I've already promised smut to someone, so... I'll warn you when it gets there.
Summary: Set six years in the future. Our girls find their way back to each other...sort of. Kind of. Jessie, is that a good summary?
Thanks: This is my first Buffy fic. Probably my last, too. Who knows? Either way, thanks to my kick-ass beta reader Jessie...as well as all the other many many people who gave it a critical readthrough. The time and opinions were very much appreciated.
Notes: Feedback would be very welcome. I'd honestly like to know your opinions-- positive and/or negative. All thoughts are good.
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What happens when one is made two?
Does one cry and the other mend?
Do they both crave what’s gone?
Do they heal?
Do they each becoming a new one?
Only to be torn again?
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The granules fell slowly through the funnel and into the bottle, creating a gentle noise that filled the backroom. As each moved, it released a small amount of scent, filling the room with delicious smells ranging from patchouli to vanilla.
A refreshing window on the outer-wall let in a vast amount of light, shining in the room and reflecting off of the bits of dust particles that danced through the air. The cabinetry was glass fronted so she could see the contents of her various cupboards and surrounds and allowing the light to catch on some of the colorful glass bottles scattered around the workroom.
The main prep table was strewn with bottles of varying sizes and shape. Branches of plant life, flower petals, and other earthy things such as crystals and rocks also adorned the tabletop.
The woman sighed, tucking a lock of her red hair behind her ear while a forlorn look crossed her face.
Not exactly what you planned on doing at 27, is it? She mused to herself. Could be worse. I could be dead without…well, without all that stuff I’m supposed to do before I die.
As the bottle came closer to being full, she removed the funnel and added the remaining sprigs of herb before capping off the bottle and labeling it. Ensuring the cork was tight, she dipped the top of the bottle, cork and all, into some melted wax, effectively sealing the item from tampering.
“That should do it,” she muttered. “Elsa?” she hollered, stepping outside the workroom, through the old, solidly built door. Her petite blonde assistant cocked an eyebrow her way, arms full of various bottles and decanters. “Let me help you,” the redhead offered, stepping forward and taking some of the blonde’s burden.
“Thanks, Willow. I didn’t want to bother you since you were working on Ms. Halloway’s special order,” the assistant said. “Should I assume that since you’re finally poking your head out of that room, that it’s done?”
Willow nodded, her red hair dislodging itself from behind her ear. “All done. Will you call her sometime today and let her know she can pick it up anytime tomorrow? I want to make sure it rests overnight so she’ll get the full affect when she uses it,” she explained.
“I’ll ring her first thing after opening tomorrow,” Elsa said. “Money, Money,” she intoned.
“You remind me so much of someone else I used to know,” Willow muttered, rolling her eyes in memory and walking back into her workroom.
She held the door open, half in and half out of the room. “I’ve got a couple more things I can get done before I’m heading home. I’ll make sure that Ms. Halloway’s order is boxed and waiting behind the counter for you. I’ve got class tomorrow, so I don’t know when I’ll be in, ok?”
“That’s fine,” the blonde said, stocking the shelves with the various products. “Are we still having that sale on Saturday?”
“Yeah,” Willow said, sighing again. “Tarot Root Shampoo is ten percent off. If you leave before I do, lock the doors. I’ll let myself out,” she called, slipping back into her sanctum.
The workroom was definitely her preferred area of the store. All the products were made by hand and generally made by her. Only ever so often, usually around the holidays, did she hire out. And even then, only students from the local botanical gardening school. If they were to be of any help to her, they had to know what they were doing.
She paused in front of the worktable: A lone red rose lay on the table, its petals starting to wilt. Willow reached down and lifted it to her nose, inhaling the scent briefly. She glanced around the room, rose still in hand, and looked at all the various orders to be filled; the order pad so full she had to order some of her herbs from a supplier instead of merely harvesting from the garden in her backyard.
With a fleeting of memory she reflected on a time when the solution would be as simple as a wave of her hand and an incantation. Literally. Not anymore, she thought firmly.
It had been too long since her last dabbling with magic to go stirring things up now. If she dove in without an anchor and without easing her way back into the skill, she’d be as out of control as she was when she was forced to quit.
The road away from Black Magic was hard, to say the least. The catalyst had been the worst, definitely. Without Tara? Without Tara, she had been so lonely and unsure; the darkest of the darkness had snuck into her life without causing her to flinch.
The seizures, the tremors, the shakes, the migraines, the sleep deprivation, the starvation, the nausea, the dizziness, and the unbelievable pull to something so intensely evil had almost been overwhelming. Almost.
She smelled the rose again, remembering with a smile what had finally allowed her to free herself from the confines of darkness. The things a simple smile can do, she thought as she felt a gentle wetness slide down her cheek. She brushed it away with her fingertips and sniffled her loneliness back into her heart where it always stayed.
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Part 2 will follow shortly
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[This message has been edited by xita (edited March 31, 2002).]