Title: Chalk on Ice
Author: Gabs
Rating: R-the language is naughty straight off, and there's gonna be some hard themes...and some really, really good ones:D
Disclaimers: I don't own BtVS. If I did, a lot would be different. There's also no spoilers, as there is no Buffyverse.
Summary: Willow is a seventeen year old whose been on the street since she was thirteen. She hangs with Faith, her would-be protector. Tara's also seventeen, and lives on 'The Hill'-where only the richest, most well off live. How can these two get anywhere? Oh, and Tara's Dad is a Priest...yeah...
Feedback: Yes please! Let me know what you think, I'm a bit rusty.

Chalk On Ice

Chapter 1A

It’s been one thousand, three hundred and twenty two days; almost four years, give or take whatever. It feels like it’s been forever-but then, it also feels like it was yesterday.

Willow laughed at that thought. What a fucking cliché.

Taking one last, long drag on her cigarette, Willow flicked it to the ground and stubbed it out. It's been three and a half years, and they finally have a place. Sure, it was one bedroom, the toilet runs constantly, the kitchen has a roach infestation she swears is proportionate to Earth’s population-but, it was a place.

It wasn’t a sewer, or a door step, or a bar floor or even a cardboard box.

Shit, she was just glad to have a toilet. Who gives a crap if it ran and had some seriously worrying stains?

Anyway, back to that thought. Willow pushed herself of the wall, and began to walk down the gritty street.

It had been one thousand, three hundred and twenty two days, and about...sixteen hours and thirteen minutes. Willow pulled her jacket tighter around her, cast her eyes to the grey footpath.

That night is firmly in her mind, the sounds, the sight...the colour-the red. Her footsteps on the ground echo in her mind: a heart beat, ticking away seconds, minutes, hours-years. Just like a heartbeat, she can’t take it back; she can’t keep it moving forward.

She shook her head. She should really get back, before Faith started to worry.
*
Willow stepped through the heavy glass doors, about at the same moment as the loud, heavy metal music hit her ears. The smell of stagnant smoke, old beer and pool chalk surrounded her-the smell of her salvation. Her lips quirked a little at that thought; it was a strange salvation, but one none the less.

Hiking her legs up, Willow slid over the surprisingly clean bar top to land gracefully on her feet behind it. Grabbing a rack of glasses from under the bar top, Willow hefted it up and started to put them away. She lost her self in the task, lost herself in her thoughts. She thought back to the street corner, what she’d gone there to do. She wondered why he didn’t show. He always showed, a different, prearranged corner every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. Had never missed one, never been late. Until today.

Willow jumped a mile high when she felt a hand slap her ass.

“Yo, Red, where the hell’s your head at?”

Willow scowled and flicked a dish towel at Faiths face.

“Why the fuck you always have to scare me, Faith? Huh?” Willow smirked at her, “I know you want to grab my ass, but geese, find a better excuse...”

“Yeah, right, it’s me who wants to do the grabbing, not you who wants to be the grabeed..er..eeah...um...grabbered...” Faith trailed off.

“Aw, how unusual,” Willow sniggered, “You confused yourself.”

“Bite me, Red.”

“You’d love that, Brunette.”

“Fu-“

“Girls, get your asses to work. You wanna pay the rent on your pretty new place? Then do something!”

Both girls rolled their eyes, and pulled the finger behind the retreating mans back, though it was half hearted and done with a bit of a smile.

“Yeah, yeah Lou.”

They’d had the job for six months now. It was a fluke really. That, or their utter ability at being annoying.

Chalk On Ice, from the outside, looked like a dingy pool bar. It did from the outside, too. In fact, it was just a dingy pool bar.

But to the girls, it was money in the pocket. Clean money, too, which was something new to them both. No stealing, no bribing, no...well, it was clean.

They had discovered the place eight months back. Willow had spotted it, really, thinking it would be the perfect place to pull some wallets from some drunk, handsy men. They’d entered, and walked out forty five minutes later with four wallets. They contained: an old condom, DVD rental cards and a few credit cards, which would only be good for the night, before they were reported nicked in the morning. The bonus: they had three hundred and forty one dollars and sixty five cents. The returned again, and again. On the third night, a burly guy behind the bar clicked, grabbed them and threw them into a back room.

They thought he’d call the cops and them, and they’d be in juvy again.

Instead, he offered them a job.

They had started with cleaning, and got paid jack all, too. Yet still, a few nights a week, after the place had closed, Lou would let them in and they would earn themselves a few nights worth of meals.

After a few months, Lou must’ve thought the skinny red head that looked like she’d blow over, and the ballsy, over protective brunette had proved themselves. He soon had them pulling drinks and serving customers. Faith and Willow had fit right in. The fact that they were underage seemed to prove no problem-Lou had some kind of underground thing going on with the police that neither asked questions about. Lou asked them nothing, and they returned the favour.

A few days ago, they’d found they’d finally scraped enough money together to pay for the deposit on a crappy rental.

Last night was the last night they would ever spend on the street.

They’d vowed it.
*
“You pick up the keys, Red?” Faith flipped over the “Open” sign, turning it to the “Come Back When We Feel Like Opening” side. Faith thought it pointless-anyone who turned up at 2 am to this bar would be too far gone to read the tiny writing, but appreciated its meaning none the less.

Willow stretched her arms above her head, yawning as she spoke, “Yup-paid and signed for.” She couldn’t help but bounce a bit in her spot, her excitement a tad too much for her. She tried to hide it by sliding off the bar top where she sat.

Faith rolled her eyes, having always found the red head a little...odd. In a good way, but odd nonetheless. She couldn’t help the next words, “You know, you were like, an hour late today. No biggie, you know, I covered but...the Housing Agent was just up the street.” Faith rolled her shoulders and crossed her arms, “What took you so long?”

Willow averted her eyes and bent to pick up her tattered back pack, “Nothin’, Faith, just had to sign some stuff I didn’t realise was there. Took awhile.”

“Could at least look at me while you say it, Red. A bit more convincing.” Faith walked up to Willow, all joking gone from her eyes. She grabbed Willows arm and made her look up, “You were there again, weren’t you?” She hissed, “I thought we sorted that shit out. I thought you and I were gonna come clean after this. In it together, out of it together? What the fuck happened to that, huh, Willow?”

Breathing hard through her nose, Willow ripped her arm away, “I wasn’t doing shit, Faith. I picked up the keys.”

“Since when do you lie to me”

Willow felt the anger boil, the drop, suddenly, leaving her feeling empty, “I-“

“You girls clearing out or what?” Lou lumbered out from out back, a lit cigarette drooping from his mouth, “I wanna get home and can’t if you two are beating each other up in me bar.”

Faith gave Willow a hard look, then turned away, “Yeah, sure Lou, let’s get outta here.”
***
Chapter 1B

A loud buzzing was being annoying. Irritating, one might even say. A crumbled, sleepy blonde head emerged from the four poster canopy bed. The face attached looked disgruntled. Her hand emerged and flicked off the alarm. She rolled onto her back and stared upwards, wishing for just another hour.

Her door creaked open, “Miz Tara, are you up? I have made your breakfast and your father wished you to be there for the meal.”

Sighing, Tara rolled onto her side, “Thankyou, Sophie, I’ll be there once I’m dressed.”

“Okay, Miz Tara, I laid out clean clothes in your Bathroom last night.”

The door shut quietly behind Sophie as she padded out.
*
Tara emerged into the North Wing of the house, clean and dressed for school. Her catholic school uniform made her feel...uniform. Lame, but true. She hated it. She hated her house, for all its glory, her private all girls school, she hated her town and she hated her life.

But mostly, she just hated her uniform.

Sophie opened the dining room door for her. Tara dreaded breakfast with her father and brother. She preferred it how it normally was, with them off away and her in the kitchen, eating at the little side table, talking to Sophie and forgetting things for awhile.

“Good morning, Tara.”

Tara took a seat at the eight seater table. Surprised, she noted there was no Donny, only her father. “Good morning, sir. How are you?”

Her father, dressed for business in his Clergy uniform, nodded to his daughter, “I’m well. It was a busy month over in East Timor. The mission is doing well.” He sipped his tea, “I hear your grades are good?”

“The same as last time, sir.”

“Fine. And Graham, how is he?”

“Good.” Tara buttered her toast, “He is still intent on joining the army with Riley when he finishes School.”

“He’s a good boy, that one. Has a good head on his shoulders.”

“Yes, sir.”

Without further ado, his fatherly duties fullfilled, he stood up, brushing crumbs of off his lap, and started to walk towards the door, “And Tara?”

“Yes sir?”

“There will be no more of last years Business, do you understand me?”

Tara lowered her eyes, “Yes sir.” She swallowed, hard, “Of course.”

“We exorcised those Demons, Tara.”

She stared straight ahead, her eyes as blank as she felt when he spoke of this.

“Yes sir.”


TBC

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A spirit is a special thing...it can never truly be broken, and never, ever be tamed. The most calmed spirits out there, hold a wild edge to them...for they are the very essence of a person, and every person is capeable of anything.

I like your begining can't wait to see how Willow and Tara's life come together and what about last year? please write more!

I really like the setting you painted. I like the gritty of Willow and Faith's life and the fluff of Tara's. More please?

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Lotus

I really like the beginning...and I have the feeling it will only get better!! I hope to read more soon!

_________________
Fruit Loops are like gay cheerios!

Thanks for the feedback guys, glad you like the intro:) Here's the next Chap I'll give personalised replies soon:)

Title: Chalk on Ice
Author: Gabs
Rating: R-the language is naughty straight off, and there's gonna be some hard themes...and some really, really good ones:D
Disclaimers: I don't own BtVS. If I did, a lot would be different. There's also no spoilers, as there is no Bufferverse.
Summary: Willow is a seventeen year old whose been on the street since she was thirteen. She hangs with Faith, her would-be protector. Tara's also seventeen, and lives on 'The Hill'-where only the richest, most well off live. How can these two get anywhere? Oh, and Tara's Dad is a Priest...yeah...
Feedback: Yes please! Let me know what you think, I'm a bit rusty.


Chapter 2A

The key slipped in the lock. The lock unlocked, as they do. The door opened.

“Check it out, Red! We didn’t even have to pick it!”

Willow gave Faith a wry look, “Yeah, that’s a first...” her wry looked turned into something akin to bewilderment, “holy, shit, Faith, we have a place!”

Faith and Willow stepped together into the partly furnished flat above the old Drycleaners. They grinned at the welcoming sight before them: the lounge room and kitchen were one big (ish) room with a grimy old pullout couch, and a noisy, rattling fridge. A door led off from the right, into the tiny bedroom and another door off there led into the questionable bathroom.

“Home sweet home, ey, Red.”

Willow turned and grinned at Faith, “We have a fridge!”

Faith gave a small laugh, “Yeah, we do, kid.”

Faith had first saw Willow sitting on the side of the road. Her feet were in the sewer, her face was covered in dirt and tear streaks. Her hair was matted and hadn’t seen a brush in a good few days. She was the saddest sight Faith had ever seen. And Faith had seen many a sad sight. She doesn’t know why she stopped her movements down the path, why she sat down next to this kid, when she’d walked past so many others. It wasn’t that she didn’t care when she saw those ones-she’d seen the religious phonies out there, stopping at every sad kid on the side of the road, trying to fix the world and getting nowhere.

The thing is, she wasn’t in their world. She was in the Kids world, the Street world, and that was a dog eat dog world.

She’d invested herself once, and it...well, it hadn’t ended well. So she would normally see a kid like the grubby, redheaded girl and just keep walking. Faith was, after all, one of them, what could she do for them? And anyway, she had shit to do. She had to find a place to sleep that night, something to put in her stomach. She had to keep the pimps and drug heads of her back, she had look out for her, cause sure as hell no one else was going to do it.

But no, she’d sat herself down next to the kid.

And she’d asked her, “What’s your problem, Red?”

And the girl had looked at her with these huge, green kiddie eyes and said, “Fuck off.”

Faith had liked her from the get go.

“Oi, Faith, get over here and help me unpack the food.” Willow ditched a balled up piece of paper at her head for added emphasis.

“We have one bag. One. You really need help to unpack that?” Faith rolled her eyes and dropped onto the couch, “So, we trading off? One week on the sofa bed, the next in the bedroom?”

Willow put the food in the fridge, which now held the essentials-and all they could afford- bread, cheese, milk and beer, “Yeah, sound fine,” she grabbed her cigarettes and lit one, passing them to Faith as she sat down next to her, “And we better make a deal, Faith: no girls unless it’s your week in the bedroom. I don’t wanna be walking in and seeing some freaky sex act.”

Faith grinned and leaned back, taking a drag, “Deal, Red.”

And they sat, on their sofa, in their place, and smoked, and drank, and listened to the silence that came from not sleeping on the street. For the first time in almost four years, they had a place they could call Theirs.
*
Willow woke, her heart pounding in her ears. Her eyes looked wildly around the room, her hands were raised as if to fight something off. Seconds passed.

Slowly, she lowered her arms. She felt her breathing return to normal as she realised she was in the flat.

She wasn’t back then.

Swallowing, Willow lay back down on the hard mattress of the sofa bed and shut her eyes, tight.

Her thoughts washed over her, and she remembered the dream. She was back then, before. She balled her hands into the sheet covering her and tried to remember to breathe.

It was like she was there, again. She felt the feeling of her bed over her, felt the carpet under her palm. She heard the banging at the door downstairs. Her mother was yelling, screaming really, begging her father to just leave and let it go.

Willow was supposed to stay quiet; she was supposed to stay here so her Daddy would think she was at her friends house.

The banging was louder, there was a splintering sound, like the world was splitting in two. Her mother was still yelling, wanting to know what her Daddy was doing. She heard her Mum ask why her Dad had a gun, heard her tell him to put it down.

Then there was a sound like the world gave up splitting, and just exploded.

Willows’ breathing was in her ears, all she heard form downstairs was silence now. She knows she was meant to stay there, but she needed to see, what her Daddy was doing, why her Mum was quiet.

Her bare feet padded on the carpet, barely made a noise, but to Willow they sounded like thunder. Her hand slipped down the banister until she reached the last step. Willow turned into the kitchen and stood in the doorway. Her Mum was on the ground, and there was red, red everywhere.

It was dotted on the white walls, on the cabinets, on the bench-it pooled on the floor, spilling out and around her Mum.

Willow felt her body shake, felt like she did when she had the flu and she was all clammy and she’d thrown up a lot. She raised her eyes and saw her Daddy, his back to her, standing over her Mum.

He was shaking as much as Willow was.

She watched him raise the shiny, black little gun in his hand towards his head. Willow wanted to shout out, to tell him no, but her mouth was frozen shut.

Her Dad turned away from her Mum, turned to where Willow was standing in the doorway. There was blood on him, too. His eye’s looked right at her but didn’t even see her. The gun was at the side of his head, at the part where her Mum said she should rub when Willow got a headache.

His hand was shaking. Willow was shaking.

He never even saw her.

And then the world exploded again.

But that was back then. Willow was here, in bed. Faith was in the next room. Willow sat up again, leans over the bed and fumbles for her cigarettes. Lighting one, she shakily pulls in the smoke her, breathes it out, finding it therapeutic.

She doesn’t really remember much after that. There were sirens, and bright red and blue lights. A nice man in a police uniform took her hand. She was put ‘in the system’ and bounced from foster home to foster home. She was made to talk to a counsellor, but Willow refused to open her mouth. For three and a half years Willow kept her mouth shut and refused to utter a single word. After the six foster home, and too many screwed up times, Willow bailed.

She packed her few clothes into a backpack, jumped out the window and hitched a ride to New York. She didn’t care if she had to sleep on the sidewalk, as long as she got some control over when she lay herself down at night.

Willow spent her first night in New York, and her fourteenth birthday, asleep in an ally laying on some old crates.

Three days later, sitting on the side of a random street, Willow had felt someone sit down next to her.

“What’s your problem, Red?”

Willow raised her eyes and looked at the face of a girl around her age, looking grubby and worn, but together.

And she spoke for the first time in three and a half years.

“Fuck off.”

The girl didn’t, and Willow couldn’t be gladder.

Chapter2B

Tara MaClay was one of the It girls of her school. She’s not really sure why or how that happened. Her family had a lot of money, her father was the Father of their Church and her brother was quiet the stud. She blames those reasons for it.

The limousine, as always, dropped her off right out the front of her school. She stepped out and thanked Scott, the driver.

She put her chin up and prepared herself for another day.

It wasn’t that her school was awful. She just found the whole thing so fake. It was an all girls catholic school, St Catherine’s School For Young Women, to be exact. The girls that attended it were to pick of the richest in New York, the most beautiful and wealthy the school could find. Unfortunately, they weren’t always the nicest.

Tara met her friends where she always did, outside her locker. Anya was already there, clutching her books and leaning against a locker.

“Hey, Anya,” Tara opened her locker and started collecting her mornings books.

“Tara! You’re late. Well, so is Buffy, but she’s always late,” Anya looked carefully at Tara, “Okay, what’s wrong?”

Tara looked up sharply, “N-nothings wrong, Anya, I’m fine. How are you?”

Anya pushed herself off from the locker and turned to Tara, “Ah! You stuttered! Something is wrong. Spill. Now.”

Tara swallowed and kept digging through her locker.

“Taaraa.” Anya whined her name out. She was far too good at it. “I know! Your Dad is back isn’t he. And your brother. What did they say this time? Your stutter? You sneezed at mass when you shouldn’t have? I know! You didn’t say eighteen Hail Mary’s and dance naked under the full moon?”

Tara raised her eyebrows at that, and quirked a smile.

“I-it was nothing, Anya,” Anyway kept staring at Tara and crossed her arms, “They...Dad, he...he bought up last year again.”

Anya’s arms fell to her side, then came up to rest against Tara’s, “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Tara even attempted a real smile, “See?”

“Liar.”

“Guys! I’m here, I’m here!” Buffy screeched to a stop next to the two blondes, “Bloody Philip was late again, I swear my Mother should fire him, but she’s all ‘he has a family, he needs understanding’ and ‘life happens, Buffy, just because your driver was five minutes late doesn’t mean he deserves to be fired’ and I’m all, ‘Mum! Its his job, he is supposed to be on ti-‘” the whirlwind that was Buffy finally shut her mouth, “What happened, what I miss?”

Tara threw Anya a look, “Nothing, Buffy. We’re going to be late for homeroom, got your books?”

Buffy threw Anya a quizzical glance as she started to follow Tara down the hallway.
*
Tara climbed into Anya’s brand new Mini Cooper (“Red, of course, because it goes faster!” Anya had said). Buffy jumped in the front seat and Anya started the car and drove off.

Buffy twisted in her seat and looked at Tara, “Right, miss. What’s going on?”

Buffy had known Tara since grade school, and, damn it, she knew something had happened.

Tara sighed and rested her head back, reaching up to undo her tie, “My father got back last night. We had breakfast together.”

Buffy cringed, “Ouch. Longer then five minutes? ‘Cause, you know, that would be a record.”

Tara smiled, “No. It was about two minutes, so the usual. At least that’s done now, though.”

Tara turned to stare out the window.

“Tare-you wanna talk about it? He brought up what happened again, didn’t he?”

Tara swallowed and looked at Buffy, “I just want to forget it, Buffy.” She truned and looked outside again.

Buffy leant back in her seat and looked across to Anya, “We need to cheer her up.”

Anya grinned, “Moshies?”

Buffy bounced, “Moshies!”

Tara yelled out from the back, trying to be heard over the music Buffy turned up, “Not Moshies guys, please!”

Buffy leant forward and turned the music up louder, “What sorry Tara!? Can’t hear you!”

Tara scowled and leant back.

She really didn’t feel like seeing Graham right now.

_________________
A spirit is a special thing...it can never truly be broken, and never, ever be tamed. The most calmed spirits out there, hold a wild edge to them...for they are the very essence of a person, and every person is capeable of anything.

Just found this and its really good. Continue.

ETA: Dibs.

writerfreak

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Nuair a feallionn na focail, labhraionn an ceol (translation: When words fail, music speaks)
Ever meet a dangerous woman? One you know sees right through you? Dangerously attractive, effortlessly intelligent, quietly intense?

Soul

Good story so far... update-y goodness soon?

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We few, we happy few. We band of buggered.

Posting While Nude Improves Your Mood.

Consider this thread watched.

Woooooooooot Wooooooooot!!!!!!! This is awesome =] More please <333

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Fruit Loops are like gay cheerios!

this story is so awesome! i love this idea another update soon please???

Great second chapter I'm going to be reading this til the end

Great story, can't wait to read more update soon. ~key03grl~

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Tara: willow i got so lost

Heya gabs, welcome back to kitten land.
First of all, Willow’s new apartment sounds like my house! Well, maybe not with the roaches but my toilet leaks and so does my ceiling!
I love the start, so Willow and Faith have been on the streets…and were junkies? What an intriguing storyline, definitely sets up some angst…but hey, Faith’s there and I love her to bits! I'm glad Willow's got her to look out for her.
And Tara is from the other side of the track altogether, but her father is still just as much of a bastard as he ever was.

Scary! I’m gonna stab at what it might be…something to do with getting all hot and bothered at the thought of sleeping with girls instead of ‘the way god intended it with a man.’ That would definitely constitute a ‘demon’ in her father’s eyes.
Great start, great set up, now hurry along with the next chapter please!

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Willow Van Helsing...saving the world since 1777 │ Van Rosenberg II - Lord of Ice and Shadow

Intriguing start. I like how you handle the parts with Willow and Faith - the way you wrote their first meeting, from both perspectives, was particularly effective. It really cemented their relationship, Faith's immediate reaction, liking Willow despite the 'fuck off', and Willow thinking back on it from a more long-term perspective, being glad Faith didn't. And in the present, I like how they don't ever seem to go too long without one or other of them piping up with a bit of wry humour, no matter how tough life is for them - you can see how they've formed the bond they have, and how they keep each other from sliding back into an even worse situation. Mostly, I should say - Willow's secretive rendezvous brings an interesting angle of angst to her and Faith, especially that Faith is the straight arrow of the two of them in this situation.

And Tara's such a contrast - everything handed to her on a silver platter, yet her life seems so humourless. And while it's easy to say she's got it easy compared to Willow and Faith, there's that conversation with her father - the still, calm kind of way she had to agree that 'that business' wouldn't happen again came across very harshly. In that sense, Willow and Faith have something Tara doesn't - what little they have is theirs alone, while Tara's life, luxurious though it may be, isn't her own to decide. It'll make for an intriguing mix when they cross paths.

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Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.

Wow, didn't know there was so many replies! Thankyou so much guys, am glad you all like the start. I will do individual replies when I post the next chap-I just want to let you know that this story is continuing, and is partly written already-I just don't have internet at home atm (new place!....no cockroaches, but, like, Alce, a damn leaky toilet). Will have it up in a week or so!

Thanks for sticking guys!
*hugz*
~Gabs

_________________
A spirit is a special thing...it can never truly be broken, and never, ever be tamed. The most calmed spirits out there, hold a wild edge to them...for they are the very essence of a person, and every person is capeable of anything.

OMG im addicted to this story already it actualy brough me back to the kitten board so i could post about it and read it faster please chapter 3 soon

dj

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I promise that to all the pain there is pleasure. That no matter how hurt you could ever be there is always something better waiting for you.

note i think i found this quote in a story on here but i cant remember its one of my favorites and if any one recognizes it and knows the origin id be very grateful to have some one to give gratitude and credit to thanks

DJ

Hey guys! This is a short chap. Am so sorry its taken me so long to get it up! Uni has been biting me int he bum lately. Hope it doesn't dissapoint!

Title: Chalk on Ice
Author: Gabs
Rating: R-the language is naughty straight off, and there's gonna be some hard themes...and some really, really good ones:D
Disclaimers: I don't own BtVS. If I did, a lot would be different. There's also no spoilers, as there is no Buffyverse.
Summary: Willow is a seventeen year old whose been on the street since she was thirteen. She hangs with Faith, her would-be protector. Tara's also seventeen, and lives on 'The Hill'-where only the richest, most well off live. How can these two get anywhere? Oh, and Tara's Dad is a Priest...yeah...
Feedback: Yes please! Let me know what you think, I'm a bit rusty.


Chapter 3A

Subtle wasn’t Faith’s best character trait. She tried, but there was only so far she could go and stop being true to herself. If she didn’t have the subtle gene, then why pretend?

Gene. There was a word that wasn’t in her vocab four years ago. But then along came Red. That girl was a damn dictionary, or encyclopaedia-another new word-of information. Faith thought of herself as pretty up on stuff, but when it came to stuff, as in actually stuff-science, and books and….well, stuff, Willow had her beat. The redhead had said her Mum had been a librarian-she’d grown up with books on everything (that was all she had gotten from the girl…Willow would start to say something about her parents, but then her face would change and she’d either stop talking and disappear into her head for the rest of the day, or change the topic). It wasn’t just from before that Willow had books-heck no.

Faith had asked her, a few weeks after their pleasant (not so) first meeting, what she wanted to pinch first. They had gotten food and essentials, but Willow was yet to go after something she wanted. Faith expected to hear ‘nice clothes’, ‘warmer clothes’ or ‘cigarettes’…no, she heard ‘books.’. So she and Red had pinched some books. After awhile, they would sneak into the Library (they had to sneak, their ‘kind’ wasn’t very approved of) and sit for hours, with Willow sunk into some college grade text book, while Faith would find a trashy paperback and pretend she fount reading as easy as Willow.

Anyway-Faith paused on her walk down the street-where was she? Genes. Subtle. No, subtle was certainly not part of Faiths abilities. But she’d be damned if she wouldn’t pull it off right now. She kept her eyes on the red hair about twenty steps ahead of her, making sure to not draw attention to herself. She was hoping Willow was heading to a book store to filch some new books on nuclear physics or biology or bird watching or whatever the hell the new interest was-not to go to where Faith was almost certain she was headed.
*
Willow continued her way down the footpath, her chest feeling heavy. She shouldn’t be doing this. She felt resolved. This was the last time…though, she had said that last time. Willow paused on the footpath. She could end it, right now. Turn away, not go to this meet, and keep her promise to Faith. It was more then a promise to Faith, it had been to herself too. She had only broken it once before this. And she’d found she hadn’t gone through with it-completely.

Maybe that had been step one, and now not turning up at all could be step two? Willow pulled in a deep breath-she had to make this choice. She looked at the corner up ahead.

Willow almost pissed her pants when she felt someone’s hand fall onto her shoulder. She almost did a second time when she turned and saw Faith.

Faith almost smirked when she saw the look on Willows face.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Willow shrugged Faith’s hand off her shoulder, unable to look her in the eye, “Nothing. Walking. Smoking. That’s all.”

“Don’t lie to me, of all people, Red.”

Willow bought her eyes up from the ground and looked Faith in the eye, “I wasn’t even sure if I was going to go. You saw me stop. I just-it’s hard. And I’ve only been one other time. And I didn’t take it myself, I swear. I just sold it, so there’d be some cash aside. And I know we said we wouldn’t do either anymore, but I just-I’m so scared where gonna lose the place, and the thought of extra cash was so appealing, Faith. And-“ Willow stopped, realising she was turning red from lack of air, “I’m sorry, Faith.”

“You’ve been to Rack since we’ve said we’d stop?” Faiths eyes hardened.

“Once.”

“We weren’t doing that shit anymore, Willow! None of it, not any part. And then you go off and do it behind my back?”

Willow felt her self getting angry, felt it boiling up, “Fuck, Faith, I wasn’t taking any of the shit. I just wanted to make sure we were gonna be okay!”

“We will be, and we’ll do it properly, Red. In it together, out of it together, what the fuck happened to that?”

Willow felt it snap, and knew she shouldn’t, “Yeah, and who was the reason I was in it in the first place, huh Faith?” Willow regretted it instantly as she saw Faith reel backwards as though she’d been slapped.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, Willows eyes angry, but regret was creeping in at the edges, Faiths pissed off and hiding hurt, “Right, Red. Yeah…okay.”

And Faith turned on her heel and walked away.

Willow stood and watched her go, “Shit.”

Chapter 3B

Tara let herself be dragged out of the car, let Anya and Buffy grab her arms on either side and chatter away like birds. Let herself be dragged into Moshies, and felt dirty instantly. She did not like this place. It was like any burger place, only more commercial and ‘upper class’; and more full of loud, show off boys. It was where the rich, well off, spoilt kids hung out. They ordered their ‘lean, roasted beef burgers’ and drank their flavoured mineral water, and showed off. And they did all that to a personal DJ.

It was horrible. Anya and Buffy ordered for her, and Tara scanned the room, hoping not to see Graham anywhere. She breathed a sigh of relief-there was no sign of him, or his friends. As she turned back to the counter, Buffy came up next to her with a tray piled high with food, “If you’re looking for him, it’s okay, I just text Riley and they’re all coming straight here.”

Tara glared daggers at her best friends back as they made their way to a table.

Just as Tara was going to make some sort of excuse to escape, the front door opened and the crowd of boys that made all the private school girls go ‘gah gah’ walked in. With Graham at its head. He looked around and saw her, smiled a huge, puppy dog grin and came loping over.

“Tare, hey babe!” He slid into the seat next to her and leaned over to kiss her cheek. She grimaced as she felt stubble, but hid it with a smile.

“Hey, Graham. How was your bio test yesterday?”

Graham leant forward and stole some of Buffy’s fries while she was distracted being mauled by Riley, “Yeah, it was fine. Aced it. Guess what?”

Tara tried to act interested, “What’s that?”

“I heard back from the Admin Officer this morning, and-“

Tara tuned out as he started on his talk of the army, and how he and Riley were a sure thing in being admitted to the academy. Tara reached for a fry and dragged it through a blob of sauce. She liked Graham-but something about him was so-so mediocre. She should LIKE him, not just like him. He was smart, and athletic and she guessed he was kind of funny, sometimes. He was every fathers (her fathers) dream stud for their daughter-respectful, courteous. What was wrong with her that she felt nothing?

She new what was wrong.

Tara sighed and pulled her head around to look back at Graham. She’d exorcised those Demons.

Just ask her father.
*
After putting up with Grahams kissing in the car, Tara made the excuse that her Father was expecting her. And Graham being the poster boy for Good, he pulled back and walked her to the door.

“Night, Tare. I wish we got to see each other more?”

“Night Graham.” She kissed his cheek, and thanked God their school wasn’t a Co-Ed.

Once Tara had said hello to Sophie, and let the woman fuss over her and make her tea, Tara dragged herself up the stairs and went to her bedroom. Sitting on her pillow, was a letter. Tara picked it up, realising Sophie must have left it there. She opened it, knowing what it would be about.

Tara,
I have been called back to East Timor, your brother is in need of my assistance with the new mission. I will be gone a week. I expect to hear that you have been in school, and have attended Mass on Sunday.

I expect your exam on Friday will be of high standards.

~Father.

Tara couldn’t help it-what, no love from?

She sighed heavily and threw herself backwards onto the bed.

Her life hadn’t been so complicated, two years ago. She was quiet; she did what she could to please her Father by going to church and keeping her grades excellent. She didn’t date and she never, ever misbehaved. It was Donny that had been the issue. Until he found God, again, of course.

But then…

Then came Grace.

Grace, with her dark brown hair and dancing eyes. Grace with her lilting, soft voice in the choir. Her hands had been what Tara first noticed, as she had been handed the new hymn book, she saw it was been passed by someone with the palest, longest fingers she’d ever seen-piano fingers, her mother had called them. Tara had looked up to see this girl, this amazing, smiling girl holding out the book. Tara took it and felt her self get dizzy as their skin touched.

Tara had felt that touch for hours afterwards.

They had started to bible study together. Then to study for school together-Grace was new, just starting and Tara was helping her to catch up. Her Father approved-Grace’s family was from ‘good’ Catholic descent.

Soon Grace was over every few nights. She was in the guest room at first, but they would stay up so late most nights, Grace would end up in her bed. They’d wake up tangled in each other and try and hide their embarrassment by pretending they didn’t notice.

Then, one night Grace kissed her. Or she kissed Grace. She was never sure how that happened. One thing she was sure of was that they had a lot of trouble stopping kissing, too.

After a few moths, they got brave, and so very stupid. They stole kisses in the toilets at school, and at Church. They would forget, and touch hands in the hallways, of the house and at school.

Then everything went bad.

Someone saw them, in the school toilets or when they purposefully brushed passed each other in the corridor; or someone guessed. They were never told who it was and when they were seen.

The guilt on the girls faces said it all.

Her father was called. Graces parents were called.

Her last sight of Grace for a long time was of her been pulled by the hand out of the school office by her crying mother and stern father. They moved after that. She wasn’t told where.

And Tara…Tara had received the worst beating of her life. She was made to read certain passages from the Bible. She was made to say what she had done was a sin. Was dirty. Was evil. Was an abomination. She wasn’t allowed to leave the house for a week.

She was made to take Grace back, which was the worst part.

She got a letter from Grace, months later, smuggled to her by Sophie.

Grace had told her it was a mistake, they had gotten too close.
That she took Tara back.
That God would hate them and send them to hell.

She saw Grace, at a convention for a combination of Churches, two months ago. She hadn’t even looked at Tara.

So Tara swallowed it all. She pretended it didn’t happen-she no longer had that Demon in her. The consequences for its existence were just too much.

So she would live the lie her father wished upon her.




/end chap

_________________
A spirit is a special thing...it can never truly be broken, and never, ever be tamed. The most calmed spirits out there, hold a wild edge to them...for they are the very essence of a person, and every person is capeable of anything.

Thanks for all the feedback guys! Hope the update pays off for the wait

will/tarajunkie01: I’m glad you liked the beginning! I was really nervous about it:D

Zooeys_Bridge: Hehe thanks for the feedback, and I’m glad you liked the contrast of the girls life

whatmakesyouhappy: There will be lots more to come about last year, for both the girls! Thanks for feedbacking!

drdj2006: Ooo I induced and addiction Hurrah for me! And I’m glad it bought you back to the kitten board, as it’s a great place to be hehe-thanks for the feedback!

Artemis: I’m glad you liked the Faith and Willow part-it’s kinda my personal favourite so far. And we have to have the wry humour in there-it’s always been part of BtVS, and I think in the situation these two are in, they could either have let themselves fall, or helped each other and used some humour to make it easier and get through it ; I love making Faith the ‘straight arrow’ especially cause she still needs her edge to be Faith-much fun to write! I’m glad everyone’s realising the whole money doesn’t mean she has it easier…though I think with Tara and her Dad that’s a given. Am so glad you like it-let me know what you think of this update, as it didn’t sit right with me , and you give great feedback! Thanks again!

Alcy: Yay! It’s Alcy! Thanks for the Welcome Back (I did disappear for awhile there, didn’t I?). And on that-I’m just about to start your newest fics-and I can’t wait I have to stop myself top uni break or I won’t cease reading them hehe. Hope you like the Faith I’m painting-I love Faith too, and have so much fun writing her! And I also love writing Tara’s dad as a bastard-as he always has to get what is coming to him! Thanks so much for feedbacking, I always love an Alcy reply-like I said to Artimis, let me know what you think of this update, as it doesn’t seem to sit right to me for some reason. Thanks again Alce!

key03grl: Thanks hun! I Hope you like the update:D

whatmakesyouhappy: Thanks, I hope I make it good enough to keep going to the end! Thanks for the feedback

iloveamber: Glad you like the premise and I hope you enjoy the update! Thanks for the feedback

will/tarajunkie01: Oo I got a woooot! Yay! Thanks hun!

KloeFrost: Will do! And thanks!

Zampsa1975: Update was not so soon, but here now? Hope that suffices. Thanks hun!

writerfreak: Lol yay to the DIBS! Thanks for the feedback, hope you like the update.

_________________
A spirit is a special thing...it can never truly be broken, and never, ever be tamed. The most calmed spirits out there, hold a wild edge to them...for they are the very essence of a person, and every person is capeable of anything.

Absolutely fabulous. Of course.

_________________
Nuair a feallionn na focail, labhraionn an ceol (translation: When words fail, music speaks)
Ever meet a dangerous woman? One you know sees right through you? Dangerously attractive, effortlessly intelligent, quietly intense?

Soul

Yay for great update-y goodness... I really hope Willow stay clear of Rack's stuff... I hope Tara is soon able to enjoy some Willow kissage...

_________________
We few, we happy few. We band of buggered.

Posting While Nude Improves Your Mood.

Oh oh oh

I just found his completely by accident, and I'm so glad I did!

Not usually one for AU fics, but this one's fantastic so far!

Great work, keep it up!

Awaiting many updates.

Paul.

_________________
I'm definitely going to hell, but I'll have all the best stories to tell...

Thanks for the feedback guys! My modem has blown up (am at uni computer)-so update will take a little bit (think a week) until the very slow company sends me a new one (thankfully free!!!).

Writerfreak: Thanks for the feedback hun! you're a charmer

zampsa1975: Thanks doll! And kissage will come-after the angst that, of course, always must happen

Lecter: Yay to accidental findings! I'm glad you like this AU-it just entered my head one day, was very random. Thanks for the feedback and I hope future updates are liked, too!




Soon, all! xo
~Gabs

_________________
A spirit is a special thing...it can never truly be broken, and never, ever be tamed. The most calmed spirits out there, hold a wild edge to them...for they are the very essence of a person, and every person is capeable of anything.

Heyyy
So I read this and it's pretty damn good. The juxtaposition of the two worlds will be... really interesting. I look forward to seeing how they meet, etc.
My heart broke for Tara... and Willow... "hard themes" indeed O.O

_________________
Check out Between Breaths if you like.

lecter/paul told me about this fic, he wasn't wrong, this is amazing! update?

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- I am a poster girl with no poster, I am 32 flavours and then some -

I can't imagine what didn't sit right with you about this chapter, it looks just fine to me. I loved the dialogue between Willow and Faith, especially coming off the back of Faith's musing about the positive effects Willow's had on her - I like the sense from Faith that she and Willow are different, yet Faith recognises that Willow's got something special about her, and she's grateful for having that in her life. Willow, ironically - the more 'intellectual' - seems the less self-aware of the two, in terms of her deeper motivations. She's justified her decision to keep dealing with Rack in terms of the financial stability if offers for them, but I wonder if it might not just be that she's afraid for her and Faith to try to go straight on their own.

Tara's segment, again, had a quieter drama to it, but no less emotional under the surface - the way her relationship with Grace was summed up, culminating in those curt, sharp sentences in the end, really underscored the pain of it.

_________________
Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.

Okay guys! A quick reply to feedback and also just wanting to let you know that this fic is still going! Just working out some kinks in this update and then it'll be up. I'll say a few days but I may even suprise myself and have it up tonight (maybe hehe). Thanks for sticking!
~Gabs xo

Artemis: Im not sure what it was, I think my muse was having an off day or something. Just didn't feel right, the characters or something. Oh well, you thought it was fine so I feel a bit better bout it! Lol yeah Will is intellectual, but pretty non aware of herself and what going on around her semetimes. Let us see...who could herp her realise that? hmm...
Im glad you liked how I wrote the last few sentences, I was hoping they'd have that effect. Poor Tara. Fic is never very kind to her (in the begining).

leftindust: Hi! Im glad it didn't dissapoint! And, finally, an update to be had very very soon!

synthwrr: Im glad you liked the juxtaposition between their lives, I've not had a stab at it before and was hoping it played out right. Thanks for reading! Hehehe...maybe I should have put 'very' hard themes? lol



Thanks again guys!

_________________
A spirit is a special thing...it can never truly be broken, and never, ever be tamed. The most calmed spirits out there, hold a wild edge to them...for they are the very essence of a person, and every person is capeable of anything.

Okay. Wow. I did suprise myself in the end. Please let me know what you think kittens, Im sorry it's not very well written. I think I need to find a beta lol.

Title: Chalk on Ice
Author: Gabs
Rating: R-the language is naughty straight off, and there's gonna be some hard themes...and some really, really good ones:D
Disclaimers: I don't own BtVS. If I did, a lot would be different. There's also no spoilers, as there is no Buffyverse.
Summary: Willow is a seventeen year old whose been on the street since she was thirteen. She hangs with Faith, her would-be protector. Tara's also seventeen, and lives on 'The Hill'-where only the richest, most well off live. How can these two get anywhere? Oh, and Tara's Dad is a Priest...yeah...
Feedback: Yes please! Let me know what you think, I'm a bit rusty.

Chapter 4A

Okay, so she could have handled that better. Willow knew that. She changed her position for what felt like the eighth time that minute and lit another cigarette. Then stubbed it out. Then re-lit it. She couldn’t believe she’d said that to Faith. Willow knew that she, and only she, was responsible for anything she’d done. Faith had introduced the concept-but it hadn’t started out as bad as it had ended. And Willow took a large chunk of the blame for that ending.

Willow heaved a sigh, stubbed out the barely smoked cigarette and walked on. When Willow was 15, and Faith was, she thinks, not far from 16 they had had enough of stealing and sneaking and sleeping in gutters. Willow gave a little snort of amusement. Of course they’d had enough. She didn’t know anyone who went to sleep in a mouldy box each night thinking ‘God, I love this! I can’t wait to do it again tomorrow night.’

Anyway.

Faith had been getting pushed by a druggie she’d known before Willow. He thought Faith would make a great seller, with her big brown doe eyes and cocky swagger. Willow could tell Faith knew him, not just knew of him, but knew him; and the guy, Rack, would make little comments to her that made Willow wonder. Stuff like ‘you know, Faithless, that doesn’t happen often’ and ‘you can’t deprive yourself of the cash just ‘cause of some stupid little Mouse’s mistake’. Willow had questioned her on what he meant. She’d gotten glared at as a response. She didn’t ask again. She knew Faith used to kick it with another girl, before Willow. Her name was Amy. That was all Willow knew. And when Faith heard that name and Willow saw the guilt written all over her face, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know more.

Faith had continued to tell Rack to fuck off.

Then one night, when it was obvious winter was on its way in Faith had disappeared for the night. Willow had waited under the Bridge they were crashing at. She figured Faith had gone to pinch more clothes, or blankets. Winter scared the shit out of Faith, and Willow wasn’t to fond of it either. Faith had appeared the next night with little bags of smack and told Willow that she was going to sell them and get them some cash.

Willow had insisted on helping. Faith had told her no, she’d sell it on her own. Willow told her to get stuffed, everything they did, they went into together and came out of together. So they’d started selling.

They’d meet Rack, or one of his dodgies, most often some peroxide pimply kid calling himself Spike (“His real name is William!” Faith has sniggered at her) regularly, to swap crack for cash and to give Rack his cut. It had worked, for awhile.

Faith had one rule. They never sold to someone who looked under twenty. They kidded themselves that they were helping society a little this way. A few months passed and then they’d gotten caught. They really should have chosen younger people. Younger people were less likely to be undercover cops. And this particular undercover cop had sent them off to juvy. Again.

They’d been in once before when they were caught with their hands in the cash register at a little clothing boutique. They’d served a few months, then the government tried to put them into foster care but Willow and Faith has bolted the second they had their feet out the door. They weren’t looked for-the foster system was over ran with kids like themselves.

The same thing happened this time, in for a few months, then out for good behaviour, then they’d bolted.

And gone straight back to Rack.

Willow shook her head. They’d been pretty damn stupid.

Rolling her shoulders and preparing herself, Willow pushed open the doors to Chalk On Ice and walked through the crowd of regulars, smirking at Terry, who was already passed out on a pool table. She ended up in the back, in the dingy kitchen, and looked around for Faith.

She wasn’t there. She wasn’t behind the bar either. Or in the office with Lou.

Willow felt her throat close up.

Shit. She’d really done it now.

Faith never missed a shift.
*
The night crawled by. Willow was snapping at everyone who pushed her buttons, and she ended up with no tips. She told Lou Faith was sick. Lou just grunted. Faith was too good an employee for him to want to fire.

She closed up as quick as she could and ran back to their flat. Willow burst through the front door and almost leapt out of her skin when she saw Faith sitting on the sofa, calm as can be, just staring at her.

“Hey, Red.”

“Faith, I-“

“Shut it, Willow.”

Willow almost choked. She hadn’t heard her name from Faith since…well…ever.

The two of them stared at each other for a long second. Willow was about to open her mouth again when Faith started moving. She reached into her pocket and threw onto the floor a handful of baggies filled with fine white powder.

“In it together, out of it together, hey, Red.”

Chapter 4B

Tara sat staring at the teacher without really seeing him. Or hearing him. She normally loved this class. Philosophy was something she could wrap her head around, lose herself in. And Professor Giles really knew how to teach it.

Today, though, she just wasn’t interested.

Donny had shown up last night. It had only been three days since her father had left, leaving the note saying Donny needed help with the mission. She had thought it was be at least a few weeks until she had to see either of them again. Yet she walked in after school to find Donny standing in the front hall, waiting for her.

“Hey there, little sis. Long time no see.”

Tara could see his eyes were red; she could smell the alcohol from where she stood. Donny needed help with the mission. Right. More like Donny needed AA.

Tara tried to smile, “H-hey Donny. I didn’t think you’d be back from East Timor for a-awhile.”

She cursed the stuttering.

Donny smirked and swayed, taking a few steps towards her. “Y-you’d l-love that, wouldn’t y-you,” She winced, hating to be mocked for something she couldn’t help, “Fuck knows what you get up to when Dad and I are away, Tara. Bet you love it when we aren’t home.” His smirk increased in severity, “Bet you hide Grace in your room. You little slut.”

Tara reeled as if slapped. It had been so long since she’d had to hear that. Donny had ‘reformed’, had ‘found god again’ in the last few years. She’d taken anger from him during last years business, but it was more controlled, the alcohol wasn’t there to fuel his rage; his disgust. She’d taken the beating from her father, and her brother had got in a few good hits too.

And he did that while sober.

Tara looked around, hoping Sophie wouldn’t be near to hear any of this. Sophie didn’t need to see Donny get violent.

“Donny, I r-repented for that. I-I’ve taken it back.” Tara cast her eyes to the ground.

“Liar. I know the look of a liar who repents, Tara. Fucking whore. You’re sick, Tara.” Donny was close enough to grab her arm, to shake it. The smell of whisky washed over her, “Tara, God knows your sick thoughts. And so do I.”

It wasn’t as bad as it had been before. Over quickly. He was too drunk to cause much trouble. Not too drunk to forget not to hit her face though. No, the bruises were on her arms, easily hidden.

Her family were good at keeping their skeletons in the closet.

Buffy knew. She kept looking sideways at her and reaching her hand forward to cover Tara’s. At lunch, when Tara had said she wasn’t hungry, Buffy had gotten up, gotten her a chocolate milk and placed it in front of her.

Tara couldn’t help but twitch a smile at that.

“You told me when we were seven that chocolate fixes everything, Tare.” Buffy had attempted to smile at her.

Tara really didn’t know what she’d do without her friends sometimes. They drove her mad, but they tried to help where they could.

Tara snapped to at the sound of the bell. The day was over. She shook her head and started to gather her things.

“Tara, could I see you for a moment.” Tara looked up to see Professor Giles looking at her.

She nodded and walked towards him. Buffy yelled out that she’d see her at the lockers and left.

The Professor gathered his things together and waited for the last nosey student to wonder slowly out.

“Tara. Was I absurdly dull today?”

Tara couldn’t help but smile, “No, Professor, not at all. I-I’m sorry, I was distracted.”

Professor Giles sighed and took his glasses off, cleaning them with the edge of his shirt, “Tara, I hear your brother is back?”

Tara felt her face scrunch up in confusion, “How did you know?”

“The teachers…well, we all know about Donny’s past. We keep quiet, out of respect, but most of us are aware.”

Tara had assumed as much. Donny’s earlier exploits had made him famous amongst the boys at his school, and with the girls here. The teachers were bound to be conscious of them as well.

“Tara, I just want you to know…if there’s anything I can assist you in, please let me know. You’re an excellent student, Tara. I’d hate to see you’re broth-I’d hate to see you fall behind due to personal reasons. If you need any help, with class or-or anything, please know you can come to me.”

Tara met Professor Giles’ eyes, “Thankyou.”
He nodded at her and she walked out.

It was comforting, to know an adult was aware. Even if there was nothing he could do.
*
Buffy and Anya took Tara to the movies. It was a comedy. Then they dragged her to the latest action flick. They then took her to the newest horror movie. They were about to drag her into the Drama film out when Tara put her foot down. “Guys, really, I can’t watch another movie!”

Buffy and Anya gave her a wry grin, “Sorry Tare.”

Tara laughed, “No, thanks guys, it’s been great. I just, I think I need to sleep. It’s been a long day.”

“You’re staying at mine!” Anya stopped short as Buffy and Tara looked at her with raised eyebrows, “Sorry, that was said far too excitedly. But you are. You aren’t going home, you’re coming to mine. You, too, Buffy.”

Tara couldn’t help but feel relieved.

On there way out, Tara caught site of something that made her giggle. Buffy gave her a look and asked, “What are you laughing about Tara?”

“That guy,” She pointed to the dark haired boy with the nice smile serving popcorn, “Has been making eye’s as Anya all afternoon.”

Buffy’s eyes widened and poked Anya, “Ooo Anya.”

Anya rolled her eyes, “Please. He’s the popcorn guy. His name is Xander and he gives me free candy sometimes. But like I would go there with someone who earns two dollars an hour.”

Buffy giggled and said, “Free candy, eh?”

Tara laughed as Anya slapped Buffy upside the head, but then caught the wistful look on Anya’s face as they walked out the exit doors.

She glanced back and saw the same look on Xander’s face as he watched them leave.
*
It being Friday, Tara called and let Sophie know where she would be, knowing she couldn’t protest with there being no school that night.

Tara spent the night eating and talking and mostly just sitting back and listening to Anya and Buffy gossip. She liked these times, she felt almost…relaxed and normal when she got to just be with her friends.

They went to sleep late and woke late. The girls parted ways after getting fed pancakes by Anya’s cook.

When she got into the house the next morning, Donny was no where to be seen. Tara let herself enjoy the emptiness and quiet, knowing he wouldn’t be gone too long. She started her homework and avoided calls on her mobile from Graham. When the house phone rang, she ignored that too. She sighed inwardly when she heard Sophie padding towards her room.

“Miz Tara, there’s a boy on the phone.”

Tara called Sophie in and took the phone, “Thanks Sophie.”

Tara prepared herself to act happy girlfriend and put the phone to her ear, “Hello?”

“Hey, Tara? It Jake.”

Oh, no. Jake.

“Tara? Are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Jake was Donny’s friend. A nice guy, actually. He was dragged out with Donny when Donny wanted to get blind, and then Jake would have to call Tara or their Dad to come drag Donny out from whatever skeazy bar they were in. This hadn’t happened in awhile.

“I’m sorry, Tara. I can’t get him home, I’ve had a few too many myself. We’re at the old bar, “Sammy’s”, can you come get him. He’s passed out on the counter, so he won’t give you any trouble.”

Tara closed her eyes for strength, “I’ll be there soon, Jake. Thanks.”

“Sorry, Tara.”








/End Chap

_________________
A spirit is a special thing...it can never truly be broken, and never, ever be tamed. The most calmed spirits out there, hold a wild edge to them...for they are the very essence of a person, and every person is capeable of anything.

wow, I just found it and I already liked it!

It´s intersting, Tara being in this scary family, and Will, oh, sweet Will, the world can destroy you...

thaks for the update

_________________
- Proud Warrant Officer of the Kitten Army - Semper WillTarus!! -

My Heart Draws a Dream
True Colors of Love
A Crazy Little Thing Called Mutation

Nue: Thanks for the feedback! Poor Tara, she's always put through the wringer. Luckily the kitten board always gives her a nice ending

And poor Willow. Im not very nice in this fic so far. I'm hoping that, even with the changes, I'm managing to keep the characterization up to par. Would love some feedback on that! Again, thanks for the feedback hun, I hope you keep enjoying it.




Update to come later tonight (or today, depending where you are )

_________________
A spirit is a special thing...it can never truly be broken, and never, ever be tamed. The most calmed spirits out there, hold a wild edge to them...for they are the very essence of a person, and every person is capeable of anything.

Title: Chalk on Ice
Author: Gabs
Rating: R-the language is naughty straight off, and there's gonna be some hard themes...and some really, really good ones:D
Disclaimers: I don't own BtVS. If I did, a lot would be different. There's also no spoilers, as there is no Buffyverse.
Summary: Willow is a seventeen year old whose been on the street since she was thirteen. She hangs with Faith, her would-be protector. Tara's also seventeen, and lives on 'The Hill'-where only the richest, most well off live. How can these two get anywhere? Oh, and Tara's Dad is a Priest...yeah...
Feedback: Yes please! Let me know what you think, I'm a bit rusty. Would love some feedback on my Characterization, am worried about it?


Chapter 5A

Willow’s mouth opened, then closed.

“Where-where did you get that, Faith?”

Faith took a deep drag on her cigarette and leant backwards on the couch. Willow could almost swear her eyes were red rimmed.

“I went back to your meet, met up with Spike.” Faith stubbed the cigarette out and stared Willow down. “He backed up your story at least.”

Willow slowly sank down to the floor. She sat cross legged, her eyes now glued to the baggies on the floor. There was about 10 000 dollars worth there. She felt bile rise up in her throat.

“We’re in together, Red. Gotta have ‘em sold by next week. Have Rack’s cut in like normal. Then pick up the next stash.”

Willow nodded, here face not really showing comprehension to what Faith was saying.

“So we’ll sell it like usual then, Red?” Faith lit another cigarette, toying with the lighter in her lap. “We’ll have to sell before our shifts. Unless you wanna quit Chalk, and we’ll go back to this like before. The cash was ok, just juvy was a bit shit; and soon we’re going to be too old for Juvy.”

Silence floated around the room as Willow stared sightlessly at the bags on the floor, and Faith stared thoughtfully at Willow. She barely blinked as Willow’s head shot up.

“I don’t want them, Faith. I don’t want in, so you don’t need to come in with me.” Willow paused, almost looking panic struck. “Un-unless you’re in? Then I’ll be in. Then we can get out of it together. Unless you don’t want to be out. So we’ll be in together. We’ll stay in. We’ll go in and out of jail together, and we’ll meet Spike together, and cut Racks share together. We’ll be the grandma’s selling crack in the Aged Care Home.”

Faith cocked her head to one side, looking at Willow intently. “That’s about the saddest thing I ever heard, Red.”

They both cracked up laughing.

Not long after, they were leaning out the one window in the lounge, smoke floating around them. Faith had her head resting on her folded arms, as Willow leant on her elbows.

“I just panicked, Faith.”

“I know.”

“I was just so scared we’d land on our feet, then end up falling through the thin floor into another giant pile of, you know…crap.”

“I’m sick of the crap too, ya know.”

“I just don’t want to end up back there. I wanted to cover us.”

Faith flicked her cigarette and watched its red glowing decent to the footpath below.

“You got no faith in the two of us, Red.”

“Funny. You’re a complete comedian.”

“I thought so.”
*
Faith took the junk back to Rack, who chucked a fit and would’ve come down hard on Faith if he didn’t know she’d kick his arse. The fact that they didn’t run off with bags or keep his cash kept their heads attached to their bodies. Rack liked a clean operation, and he liked his ‘employee’s’, as he insisted on calling them, to be clean with him and how they sold their stuff. No one ever ran off with Rack’s junk, nor did they not cut him his share. This way he didn’t really lose any cash, and he didn’t want to push the two fiery girls too hard. He was hoping they’d come back to him again, soon.

The lure of it all had already bought the redhead crawling back. He knew it would only be so long before they both turned up at his door, begging to be selling again.
Willow knew she had a lot of making up to do to Faith, but she also knew that Faith would deck her if she tried to apologize again. So Willow was slowly starting to put some of her wage aside for something for Faith.

Something that she knew she’d love, and something Willow knew would take awhile to save up for.

They started pulling doubles at Chalk on Ice. Lou started trusting them a bit more, leaving them to close up on Mondays and Tuesdays, the quietest nights. They settled into their routine, something they’d never had until this moment in time. They worked, they went home (Willow still found a grin on her face at that word), they went shopping. Of course, they had to avoid some of the centres. They’d been kicked out on many occasions for many different things in a lot of them.

The most memorable was when Faith had shoved jackets under her shirt and tried to claim she was pregnant to the security guard. That had lead to a very amusing chase through a food court. Faith had ended up pretending to go into Labour, screams and all, thrown the jackets at the security guard and ran like hell. Willow had watched the whole thing, laughing harder then she ever had, leather gloves stuffed in her pocket, the real prize that night.

Willow had discovered she loved grocery shopping. She bought a pad and a pen that had several colours, all in the one pen. She made lists, for food and toiletries; for anything else she could think of that could go into list form. Everything had its own separate column and corresponding colours indicating how much they needed some items-for example, bread, beer, tampons and cigarettes-compared to other things-chocolate, vegetables and meat.

It was looking at those lists that made Willow realise they should probably, at some point, make some changes to their diets.

At some point.

Faith abided by Willow’s one rule: she only bought girls, and the odd guy home when she had the bedroom that week. Willow would sleep with the pillow over her head, or play the old beaten up TV as loud as she could. She loved that TV. They’d found it in a dumpster, and it worked just fine. So what if the glass was cracked?

Willow was amazed at Faith’s ability to lure women home. Faith could string them along and have them wrapped around her little finger (and more, Willow presumed) by the end of her shift. They were putty in her hands.

It was a week and a half since Willow had admitted her lack of, well, faith that it happened.

It was a Monday night, and they were closing up without Lou for the third time. It was early, maybe six-ish, when a crowd of boys they’d never seen around before showed up. Mick, the burly guy kept around for trouble makers, gave them a warning scowl when they strode in, cocky and arrogant.

Faith caught Willow’s eye and rolled her own. She flicked Willow with a tea towel, “Any strike your fancy there, Red? It’s your turn with the bedroom this week.”

Willow shuddered, “One, ew. Those boys look like arrogant twats. And two, ew. They’re boys.”

Faith smirked, “You know, that’s the first time you’ve admitted you bat for the right team.”

Willow rolled her eyes and started filling a jug for one of the aforementioned boys.

It had started out like a regular night. The regulars floated in and out, some of whom Willow gave discounts too when she recognized victims of their thieving days. The arrogant boys from earlier played pool, getting rowdier and rowdier.

One of them kept dropping his cue and falling over. At one point the same guy was the start of what would have become a brawl, his fist coming back to throw a punch at someone, who, five minutes earlier had been what seemed like a friend. His dark haired mate, the one who kept pulling him off the ground stepped in and somehow calmed him down.

Mick kept a close eye on them after that.

Faith had slipped out for a cigarette break, and Willow stood behind the bar, cleaning up in preparation for what she hoped would be an early night. She almost jumped when she heard a thump come from the bar top. She looked up to see one of the drunken boys leaning all over it, holding an empty jug out. At closer look she realised it was the aggressive guy from earlier.

“Refill, thanks there, Redhead.”

Willow didn’t like him from the get go. He was slurring, and had an awful attempt at a goatee.

“Yeah sure, same as earlier?”

She walked up and leant forward to take the jug off him, but as she held on, he pulled it forward, making her lose her balance and fall forward towards him.

“Now, now, Redhead, yous be getting a bit wobbly on your feet,” he slurred as he smiled what he must have thought was a charming grin. He went to reach his hand forward and grab her arm. Willow pushed herself back and glared at him.

“Hand me the jug, or I’m cutting you off.”

“Well, we wouldn’t be wanting that now would we?”

He handed her the jug and watched as she tapped the beer into it.

“Don’t over do the head there,” he smirked.

Willow turned the tap off. One thing Faith had taught: kick out the ones who make sexual innuendo’s early. Actually, Faith had said: Kick the slimy fuckers out on there arse. However you put it, the point was there.

“Mick!” She called.

Mick was there in a second.

“What’s up, Willow.” Willow had always found his deep baritone comforting.

“This guys had enough. I think it’s time he left.”

The drunken boys eyebrows raised, “Hey now, we were just having a friendly conversation.”

Willow was fairly sure ‘conversation’ should not come out ‘confershazion”.

“Come on dude, out you go.” Mick grabbed the guys arm.

He wrenched his arm away, scowling, “You don’t fucking touch me, nigger.”

Willow now hated him. Mick just looked amused, as if the idea that this piece of trash could insult him was entertaining.

Out of no where, the drunk guys friend appeared.

“Hey now, what’s going on? Donny, you’re not causing problems now, are you?”

“These fuckers are. I was just trying to have a conversation.”

“Donny,” Willow said, “Conversation does not have an ‘f’. Learn to speak.”

Mick smirked and went to grab Donny’s arm again, “Come on, its time for you to leave. We don’t need any trouble.”

“I don’t need a damn escort. Fucking bitches talking to me like they’re smarter then…” With that Donny attempted to sit down on a bar stool, missing entirely and landing on his backside. He then slumped against the bar, seemingly half asleep.

Donny’s friend shook his head. “I’m really sorry about this. I’ll pay for anything he broke.”

“He didn’t break anything,” Willow sighed. “Except, hopefully, his tailbone.”

Mick stood next to the now snoring Donny, saying “You and your mates need to leave now, pal. Get this piece of shit out, too.”

The boy nodded. “Of course, I just need to call someone to come get him. I can’t take him home is all.”

Willow sighed again, “Make it quick, will you? We want to close and this dipshit has kind of ruined the night.”

“Of course, again, I’m sorry. He doesn’t mean it.” Willow didn’t think even the boy believed those words.

He pulled out a cell phone, “Hey, it’s me again.”

Willow tuned him out as Faith came back in. She took in the snoring guy on the floor and looked from Mick to Willow. “Okay, who lay the guy flat and why did you have to do it when I wasn’t around to watch, huh?”

Chapter 5B

It had been a week since Tara had had to drag Donny home drunk. She didn’t see him for two days afterwards. The first one she knew he was sleeping it off, and the second one she didn’t know where he was, nor did she care. She had gotten behind on an assignment, and had three tests to study for. Her brothers’ arrival had put a halt in her school work, and she needed to get her act together.

Not just because her father would not tolerate a drop in grades, but because college was her future ticket away from all of this.

Tara longed to go to college. She longed for a college so far away her father wouldn’t want to visit. One far enough away so that when she broke up with Graham, the resulting lecture would be via phone rather than fists.

A college where she could explore herself. She would do art, she knew that much. She wouldn’t tell her father that until she was enrolled.

Art was not an acceptable thing to major in.

Law or medicine, they were acceptable. Nursing even. She could probably get away with writing. But not Art. No, Art held too much of Tara’s mother. Art was for hippies. Art didn’t get you money or introduce you nice husband like boys. Art got you no where but drugs and vegetarianism.

The next few days, Donny was at breakfast. He would sit in silence, staring her down. He would drink only coffee and wouldn’t talk even if she spoke. He liked to torture her in that manner, gazing at her all too intensely, keeping an eerie quiet.

She didn’t manage to eat much those mornings.

She spent the weekend at Anya’s and Buffy’s houses. They had an assignment together, so it worked well. Donny wouldn’t be allowed to hold her back from something that was academic related, even he knew he couldn’t keep her home then.

Her two best friends worked to keep Tara smiling. For once they left the topic of Graham alone. They both knew of the last years occurrence, and while they knew it had torn up Tara inside, they thought she’d gone out with Graham because she actually liked him. Tara tried not to give any indication to anything else. Even to her best friends, she had to prove she’d put last year behind her.

Yet she was grateful they left him out of their weekend.

Sunday night, she had to go home. She held it off as late as she could, spending the day at the beach with Buffy.

She had attended Sunday morning mass and glimpsed Donny, but he was busy and barely paid her attention. She knew he would take note of the attention she paid to the service to report to her father, so she followed mass particularly, making sure to say her Amen’s and bow her head.

She got home late, dreading her brothers presence. Yet Donny wasn’t there.

Sophie then told her he had had to attend to some of her Father’s church business and would be gone until late.

Relieved, yet disconcerted, Tara had crawled into bed. The first week with Donny home was normally the loudest. It had started that way, with his anger the first night and his drunkenness the next. This unnatural calm unsettled her.

Tara slept fitfully and eventually gave up. She got up with the sun and swam laps in their pool. She swam until her legs refused to kick anymore and her arms felt like led. She had heaved herself out of the pool, gasping, and lay on the cold tile until it was chilly enough to motivate her to face breakfast.

Donny wasn’t at breakfast that morning.

School passed in a daze; not helping was the fact that Tara was exhausted after her lack of sleep and long swim. Buffy and Anya presented their assignment, Tara getting out on the fact that only two were required for the Verbal part.

She barely recalled Mr Giles’ class, which was unusual for her.

She just couldn’t shake the feeling that the past week had been far too quiet.

She got home right after school, her diary teaming with notes on the hours of homework she had that night.

Stepping through the front door, she found her brother standing there, a mirror of himself just last week. The same grin was on his face.

“Hello, Tara.”

“Hi, Donny.” Tara thought if nothing else, at least she hadn’t stuttered just then. She was prepared, wasn’t she? She had known. The past week had been far to calm.

Donny cocked his head, staring at her, his grin grew. “Big Tara, n-not stuttering. Y-you must b-b-be proud.”

She thought it was sad, really, that he acted like a child, mimicking her stutter, one of the only weapons he had.

“I found a letter today Tara. Hidden under your mattress. Not too imaginative, are you?”

Tara swallower hard and closed her eyes. Maybe not the only weapon then. He’d found Grace’s letter, the one that had almost destroyed her.

“Even she rejects you, Tara.” Donny took a step forward, the smile never leaving his face. “God rejects you, your family rejects you and now her. The girl you lost the others over, she rejects you, too. Funny, isn’t it.”

Tara looked up and caught his eye, “D-do you mean ‘ironic’, Donny?”

The backhand caught her off guard, sending her flying backwards. Her ears were ringing and she didn’t hear what he said as he stepped closer. All she could think was that he was breaking the rules, hitting her in the face like that.

He grabbed her by the shoulders, and she heard what he said next, “Fucking dyke, always thinking you were smarter then me.”

He backhanded her again, hard enough to have her fall to the floor.

She was glad she’d landed on the floor, she was too dizzy, really, to stand up. She waited for the next blow. Two was never enough for Donny.

She didn’t know how long she waited before she felt gentle hands on her. She blinked groggily and looked up to see Sophie’s concerned face.
*
Hours later, she sat on her bed warm from her shower. She had a text book open in front of her, but she was struggling to focus on it. She was tired, and her head still ached even after the pain killers Sophie had insisted she take.

She heard the phone ringing and knew what it was about even before
Sophie appeared at her door way, her face apologetic.

“Miz Tara, I would tell him no, but…”

“It’s fine, Maria. Thankyou.”

The woman handed her the phone and Tara smiled at her. She brought the phone up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me again.”

“Hi, Jake, where are you?”

“Tara, I’m sorry, I wouldn’t ask, but-“

“Where are you, Jake?”

“This bar, Chalk on Ice.”

“Okay, I’ll f-find it. Thank, Jake.”

“I’m sorry, Tara.”

Tara hung up the phone and got ready to leave. She looked up the bar, Chalk on Ice, on google maps and got directions easily. It was about a half hour drive away.

Here we go again.





/End Chap

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A spirit is a special thing...it can never truly be broken, and never, ever be tamed. The most calmed spirits out there, hold a wild edge to them...for they are the very essence of a person, and every person is capeable of anything.