Lamplight

[WillowRulez]

How could you leave us hanging there? You big meanie *pouts*
(As you might be able to tell - loved the update, more soon?)

[JustSkipIt]

Watty - First off, I'm laughing over the shout-out. I actually got a wild-hair and reread that particular story this morning.

This update seems very quick but it's important also. So Aunt Hallie is a good partner in non-crime but now she's in danger. That's not good at all.

Very well done.

[AntigoneUnbound]

All hail Watty; never spotty.
Her stories are lovely and ever-so-naughty.

Things are a-heatin' up, aren't they? You know, I had a bad feeling when Wilkins agreed so readily to let Hallie inspect the "paintings." Smarmy little fellow...

I love stories where pasts collide and here we have one: Hallie knows Wilkins, and no good has come of it. It plays into my yearning to believe that everything has a purpose, fits into some grander plan. (The skeptic in me doubts it so...)

I love that they've called in some back-up. I love me some Willow and Tara, but one of the things I enjoyed most in canon was the way that people had each other's backs.

Interesting, too, how both of them have changed. We had expected that Tara would have an epiphany of sorts, but now Willow is also questioning how much she really gets out of the world of high-finance. Speaking of money, I loved your point about the new/old varieties: Joe Scruff outbidding Lady Hortensia from Punting-on-Swales. (If you Mapquest that and it comes up, let me know! I'd love to visit.)

Oh, and my point earlier about the "you/your" feint was meant as a compliment; I hope that came through! I thought it was a nice touch to mislead the reader and I certainly fell for it.

So now...where are these people, and what has become of them?

I'm really enjoying this, Watty!
Mary

[watty]

db -- oh yes, everyone who isn't in Wilkins' camp is or going to be in danger. I am evil. It's a big tangled web of intrigue isn't it? All valid questions yours, and the answers may be revealed or partially revealed. Is cheese the miracle food? Well, I can't tell you that, but I know who can:

when do we get to the part where Faith gets what's coming to her

um, hee. Right now it's more Wilkins and Balthazar and Travers; but I won't forget that there's Faith.


Zampsa1975 -- thanks.


WillowRulez -- I am a teensy little bit evil aren't I?


Debra -- heehee I thought you'd get a kick over the shout-out. And so appropriate for this story too. Yes it's a short/quick update -- so is the next one and *gasp* even more new characters and complicated plot!


Mary -- my stories are ever-so-naughty? I'll take that as praise, oh mistress of the extremely naughty. Things are heating up but alas! not in the bedroom sense. You might say the plot is a-thickenin'. I think I can safely say that we won't delve into Hallie's and Wilkin's past, but it's just there to give the characters more depth.

I love your observation about how W/T have changed. We expected Tara to, because we can't have her as a dancer/hostess in a club forever. As for Willow, she needed to be "humanized" -- not that she was a robot before, but she needed someone to fill the emotional part of her. Money brings a lot of pleasures, but it never quite reach the heart.

So now...where are these people, and what has become of them?

All will be revealed in good time, my dear Mary. I'm glad you're enjoying this little story and thanks for your comments.


[br]

[watty]

Title: Lamplight
Author: watty (hiddenwatson[at]gmail[dot]com)
Distribution: Chris and Susan have pre-approval. Anyone else please ask for my permission first.
Rating: R to NC-17
Disclaimer: BtVS characters, concepts and dialogue belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, The WB, UPN and others.
Summary: Contemporary AU. Where demons wear human faces. Two lives drifted apart, can they find their missing half?
Notes: This will be long and angsty. It also changes direction more than once. I had planned for it to go in a certain direction, I didn't know it would go that far. Sometimes, stories have a mind of their own.



Part 35

Professor D'Hoffryn's account of the events would not have looked out of place in an action-adventure movie. Whether by accident or design, the detectives assigned to the case were Lockley and Gunn, and the professor found himself with an audience of four by his hospital bed.

He was indeed a professor of art. His specialty was looted art and artifacts from the Second World War, not exactly relevant but he had sufficient knowledge of art crimes to speak on the subject with confidence. He was also a dear friend of Hallie's and had been briefed about the possibility that the purchases would contain stolen paintings.

As planned, he inspected Wesley's paintings carefully while Travers and Wilkins stood watching. While Wilkins wore an impassive mask, Travers was a picture of agitation.

He had just uncovered one corner of a panel and was trying to determine if it was paint underneath when Dmitri Balthazar and the defeated bidder burst into the room. The young dealer — Professor D'Hoffryn heard Travers refer to him as Ben — began to accuse Travers of treachery, making references to a previous agreement to purchase the paintings. He spied Hallie and immediately offered to buy the paintings from her, citing that his foreign buyers would not take kindly to this development, and they should all fear for their lives.

Hallie staunchly refused to budge, Ben grew more hysterical, Travers tried to defend his position. A shouting match ensued, which led to pushing and shoving. Balthazar and Wilkins made half-hearted attempts to separate the two but were largely content to let Travers bore the brunt of Ben's fury. He appealed to them, but his pleas landed on deaf ears.

Wesley crouched in terror behind some crates.

In the meantime Professor D'Hoffryn had eased the canvas off the back of one of the panels. A frown spread over his normally impassive features. His next words brought the brawl to a sudden stop.

"This is a fake."

"What?" The chorus of several voices assaulted him as he stood up.

"Not this side, I doubt anyone would want to forge a Wyndam-Pryce," he said as he turned over the back of the panel to reveal an oil painting of a religious scene, the type that was seen in churches all over the world. "A Flemish diptych, stolen from a cathedral in Antwerp in the 1970s. Or rather, a very good copy; the forger really understands the Rubenseque style that seems to be what most 17th Century Flemish artists tried to emulate."

"What's that painting doing at the back of my painting?" Hallie exclaimed, as was her line.

"Fake?!" Ben shouted.

Travers and Balthazar had both paled. "No, it can't be," Travers tried to explain. "There's a perfectly good explanation for this."

Ben wasn't having any of this. Two words into his cellphone and seconds later reinforcements arrived in the form of a formidable petite blonde woman and a dozen small, masked men who positioned themselves in a half-circle around Ben and the blonde. It was as if they had been waiting outside for his signal.

Wilkins just had time to call for his troops and the sounds of fighting soon filled the normally quiet storeroom.

Somehow in the middle of it, someone pushed Professor D'Hoffryn to the ground and was scrambling for the paintings. He made a grab for one but wasn't strong enough. Someone else hit him on the head. The last thing he heard before blacking out was Hallie screaming for help and someone yelling "Get Artina!"

*****

"There are no paintings matching your description at the scene," Detective Gunn said. "Wyndam-Pryce and Travers are in custody, but Wilkins and Balthazar have disappeared. As, um, Duchess Hallie."

"From the professor's description, the other party was a brother and sister duo by the name of Ben and Glory Keys. They represent high rollers from the Middle East and Asia — getting them into exclusive gambling rooms, providing escorts, that sort of stuff. Very well connected," Detective Lockley added. "And not the type of clients who will take well to someone selling them fake art."

Willow wore a half-smile. "Not good for Mr Wilkins. Why am I not sorry for him?"

"We don't know who Artina is though," Detective Gunn mused.

"It's a boat. That's the name of his yacht," Tara interjected. She slumped against Willow, haggard with worry about her aunt.

Kate Lockley sat down next to Tara and placed a gentle hand on Tara's arm. "We'll do everything we can to find her, Tara."

Tara sighed, closing her eyes to battle the onset of tears.

Willow bent down and brought Tara's chin up with her fingers. "Hey, I know what you're thinking. You are not to blame for what happened to your aunt. We'll find her. The police will find her, okay?"

Tara could only manage a sniff. Intellectually she understood what Willow was saying, but it didn't stop her from tearing herself up.

"Tara, I'm sorry for how we parted last time. Believe me when I say that Gunn and I will bust our asses to get to the bottom of this," Kate Lockley said fiercely. "They've gotten away with too much. I'll give anything to bring them in."

Tara nodded to Kate. "What do you think happened?"

Kate and Gunn traded exasperated looks. "We'll know more when the forensics come back. And the Artina angle is really going to be helpful. My guess is, he took the paintings and possibly your aunt to the yacht. With the terrible twins and their clients after his skin, he'll need to run. The good thing is, now we know the boat's name, the coast guard will help us track it," Kate said.

"Why don't you go home? You look beat," Gunn added.

"Keep us updated? And if you need anything else?" Willow said as she took Tara's hand and they made their weary way home.

*****

The trail grew cold.

Travers sang like a canary, and the cops didn't even need to break sweat. The enterprise had been running for years. Balthazar was the front man who approached potential buyers, mostly private collectors who derived pleasure out of owning a piece of art that no one else did, even though it was stolen and had to stay out of sight. Wilkins, and through him his Albanian contacts, sourced the paintings. They would groom an innocent artist, perhaps just out of art school or someone who was unbelievably naïve, and sell the work for small amounts at auctions. The buyers would pretend to be Mr and Mrs Everyman, on the lookout for an affordable original painting for their living room.

Wesley was a clueless bumpkin and a fool, he said, but not part of the complicity.

Travers had no idea the paintings were forged. In fact, he became disturbed and had to be physically restrained when he started spewing expletives toward Wilkins and threatening to kill him when the topic came up. He was also fairly sure Balthazar didn't know about the fakes. He gave the police names, places, and descriptions. Overnight, dozens of valuable stolen paintings were recovered. Some were forged, but most were real. It seemed Wilkins was picky about his art collection.

A week went by but there was no trace of the fugitives. Wilkins took his private crew — Faith, Luke and a bevy of foot soldiers, and completely disappeared, together with Lily and Hallie. A search of his homes didn't unearth any suspicious paintings. Dawn Knudsen also vanished.

The coast guard tracked Artina, a 160-foot luxury superyacht, up the Canadian coast until it reached Newfoundland. Satellite pictures showed it was making its way across the Atlantic.

Ben and Glory Keys surfaced in Las Vegas with oil barons and industrialists from South America. They refused to reveal any information on the incident in New York although police informers confirmed rumors that the Asian syndicate who were the intended buyers had put a price on Wilkins' head.

A large billboard announced the club was closed "for renovations." Most of the employees were dismissed. Lilah Morgan, Alan Finch et al found themselves jobless and, fearful of repercussions from the people their boss was fleeing from, skulked back to whichever backwater towns they originated from.

The FBI took over the investigation. The nightmare of liaising between NYPD, FBI and agencies from other countries was left to a tiny, studiously serious woman by the name of Special Agent Winifred Burkle. Agent Burkle was proper and by-the-book, although willing to share information with two civilians. She rightly pointed out that a) intercepting Artina while it was at sea was both dangerous and a jurisdictional catastrophe waiting to happen; b) since they could track the route taken by the yacht, it was a matter of waiting till it reached a friendly port and requesting the respective government to take appropriate action. "Art theft and forgery are taken very seriously by the international community and it is one of the areas where foreign governments are likely to agree and co-operate," she said crisply.

Satellite images all but confirmed the presence of Hallie, Lily, and an unknown young girl thought to be Dawn on board the yacht. The abductees didn't seem to be harmed, although the presence of burly guards, even in the middle of the Atlantic, was plain to see in the photos.

It became a waiting game.

*****

Tara moved out of her apartment. At first it was a temporary measure, she needed Willow so much it became painful. Those first few days after the incident at the auction house she couldn't function properly unless Willow was nearby. She was angry at herself for being so weak and needy but Willow's selfless support helped her regroup.

Willow resigned from her job. She told Patrick that she needed to take care of a personal matter and she was doing the Bank an injustice if she continued to stay on the payroll and not contribute to the bottom line. Patrick looked like he had aged ten years since she saw him last, she had a gut feeling that he wouldn't be that long at his job either. Her timing might have been perfect.

Tara still didn't want to fully move in with Willow. "How clichéd is that?" she smiled dryly. Ironic, since as she spoke, she was unpacking her clothes into closet space that Willow had freed up for her.

Willow was lounging on the bed, looking through vacation brochures. She had hinted that they should take a short trip away, but Tara wanted to stay near home, to be reachable. "Well, we're both unemployed. It's a waste of money to be renting two apartments. Speaking purely from a financial standpoint, it's the sensible step," she said.

"Right. So it's all about money." Tara stopped unpacking and crossed her arms, trying to keep a straight face.

"Well," Willow hesitated. "There're other factors. You know, like we can shower together any time we want, I don't have to worry about you constantly; I get to see you first thing in the morning and last thing at night."

A large lump suddenly developed in Tara's throat. She crossed the room, kicked off her shoes and climbed on the bed, facing Willow. "You say things like that, Willow Rosenberg, and you know I can't say no."

Willow put the brochure aside and studied Tara. Tension lines were etched into her lover's face, but her eyes were soft and gentle. Willow reached out and cupped Tara's face in her palm, and was rewarded when Tara leaned into it automatically. "I know it's a big step. Do you think we're not ready?"

Tara closed her eyes, feeling Willow's touch on her. "I guess I knew at the back of my mind, we'd come to this stage of our relationship eventually. And we'd know when it's time. I am ready, just as you were ready before me. I-i-i don't know, I just don't want us to move in together because we didn't have a choice. That it should be a decision we make, as a couple, rather than me being practically evicted because the apartment was paid for by someone I don't want to associate with anymore."

An earlier Willow would have missed the nuance in Tara's words. But she had finally begun to understand why she loved Tara so much. Tara was the strongest person she knew, and a lot of her strength came from her pride. Not arrogance, but a belief in her own values. She held herself to a high moral standard, and as far as Willow could tell, had never wavered below that standard. Her humility and self-respect was what made her so special.

Willow knew in her heart of hearts that they would be together for a long time. She knew it, from the moment she saw Tara again six months ago. No, she's known it since she was a teenager. But what a teenager felt was nothing like the depth of feeling she had for the woman sitting next to her. It was as if they had fallen in love, had always been in love, yet the last step was so fast and so profound that they hadn't had time to absorb. And as she saw her emotions reflected in soft blue eyes, she knew it was a feeling shared by Tara as well.

"What do you think of taking some time to mull over it? I think we know we are committed to each other, but we don't need grand gestures," Willow smiled. And was overjoyed when Tara smiled back. "Go away with me? Someplace quiet until the yacht reaches port and things start getting hectic. We'll still be in touch if Detective Lockley or Agent Burkle wants to contact us. No one can escape the dreaded Blackberry nowadays."

Tara sighed. Of course it was a good idea. Of course they'd be reachable. "Quiet sounds good," she said in a contemplative voice. "How about we go to Aunt Hallie's house? Someone needs to take care of it, get it ready for when she goes back."

"And it looks like the yacht is heading for Europe. We can fly to anywhere in Europe in a few hours from Zurich."

"I'll contact her housekeeper, let her know we're coming."

"I love you, Tara."

"I love you too, Will."

*****
[br]

[JujuDeRoussie]

DIBS!!!
I didn't let a feedback before??!!! I am sorry I would have swore I had... I must have crashed as the same time :(

So feedback for both

Chapter...33? I'll edit if it is not that lol:
It was expected... I was very excited about it ending with Hallie and D'Hoffryn being safe and the other in troubles... but it lasted only 2 minutes! lol
Oh abd about D'Hoffryn, I think it was a good idea
I mean, since your Hallie is a good Aunt, and D'Hoffryn was so much fatherly with Hallie and Anya (we're not talking of season 7 of course ^^)...
So he can be a good guy
You should be ashamed ot make Tara worry like this... (kidding)

Last chapter:
I love it!
The tale of what happened in this store room and then what the cops have found was cool.
But better was the exploration of Willow and Tara's search for the right time to move in together (sorry I am at a lack of words to explain what I mean )... They're mean to be together, weknow it, they know it, but such a step it important and has to be well odne. And Tara wasso much insecure 6 months ago, we can't blame her for being afraid.

Oh I wanted to ask a silly question
What "Et al" means?

Thanks for your update, I was afraid this last chapter was the last chapter because of its contents, but it is not

Friendly,

Julia

[MiniShrink]

Et al means 'and the rest', loosely translated, I don't know what 'al' means. Something along the lines of et cetera'.

I really loved this, though I kept suspecting Hallie was actually one of 'the bad guys'. It just seemed a little too convenient how ready she was to bid for all the paintings, and how she got away while D'Hoffryn (whom I love as being Romanian) was left unconscious. Still wondering why we haven't seen anything of Tara's law degree, though.

[JustSkipIt]

What an incredibly quick moving update. Not that there was a lot of action but it seemed almost transitional in that it moved the story forward very effectively. Ok, I still don't really know where it's going but this update seemed to move it there. I loved the tone of the update and particularly the tone of Willow and Tara's decision-making. I totally get their wish to move in together because they want to rather than because they feel they have to.

Nice update.

[WillowRulez]

"They've gotten away with too much. I'll give anything to bring them in."

Darn tootin'!
Fred! How cool to make her part of this story

"Well, we're both unemployed. It's a waste of money to be renting two apartments. Speaking purely from a financial standpoint, it's the sensible step."

Hehe, Willow always downplays everything. Of course Tara has valid concerns but we all know it is the best decision ever

[LittleBit]

I'm not sure how I missed the last few updates ... but I guess I've been out of it for a bit.

Firstly I have to say I like the fast-paced action and the story development. I like how you are moving the story along however a few more details and story development in regards to how things are unrevelling on the boat would be fab!!!

Keep developing the relationship between W & T - you can never stop learning about the person you're with particularly if you're still into them (which definitely seems to be the case).

Keep up the great work!!!

[Zampsa1975]

Excellent update-y goodness... so Wilkins is on the run... I hope he gets his ass kicked soon.... and Faith too... she deserve lots of ass kicking... hope Hallie & Lilly are ok and stay that way... moving together is a big step gor our beloved girls.

[Artemis]

Ugh, I'm so late...

Looking back at the direction this story's taken, it is kind of a surprise compared to where I thought it was going in the early chapters - but you work everything together that it doesn't feel disconnected. Overtly, in things like Hallie reappearing, and subtly with the people Willow and Tara were when they were younger and what they did still influencing who they are and what they do now, older and wiser - it feels right, it feels like one story.

You're making Wilkins an interesting villain too - he was always fun (mainly due to the black comedy of his dialogue, and really good acting), but here he seems deeper and more believable as a villain. Not quie so villainous, too - more a real-world evil, not the story kind, although I can't quite put it into words why (obviously not turning into a giant snake helps the verisimilitude, but there's more to it). In fact, I've slowly formed the impression that he's not actually really good at 'villainy', as opposed to just mundane acts of evil - a storybook villain would have some grand 'master scheme' that would only be thwarted at the last moment, whereas with Wilkins, it really does seem like he's just a regular, albeit horrible, guy, who's had his racket going, and isn't really thoroughly prepared when things start going wrong. He's still in the race to come out on top, but I get the feeling that he's kind of winging it, acting out of desperation and narrow self-interest more than some fiction-ish Machiavellian masterplan.

And going back a couple of chapters, I really liked the Wesley chapter - that switch in perspective and tone, almost comedic for a chapter though it didn't lessen the reality of what was going on, was really refreshing.

[AntigoneUnbound]

Miss Moneyfuckingpenny, reporting for duty.

In the midst of an action-packed update, including exposition and romantic progression, this may well have been my favorite line:

Wesley crouched in terror behind some crates.

Of course he did. You know, part of what makes that work comedically is that the preceding sentences are complex ones, fairly long ones incorporating multiple themes. And then there's this succinct description of cowardice.

I can feel the action picking up; threads coming together to form the final image of the tapestry. Things are tumbling quickly now--they know where Wilkins is (and by the way, I love the phrase "jurisdictional catastrphe"; I'm planning to use it in my own work and no, I'm not a lawyer) and he can run, but he (literally) cannot hide.

I really enjoyed the discussion of moving in together. It gave us a great glimpse into their minds--what this step would mean; what it wouldn't. Throughout this story, I've enjoyed Tara's pride, and its evolution. First we saw her determination not to live in the same conditions as her family. It's interesting b/c originally I think it had to do more purely with socio-economic class and having nice things. I think that this older Tara realizes that one can have very, very little and still live with immense class...class of that other, more enduring value. My nickel minus 3 cents' worth.

Thanks for the great story, Watty. I'm looking forward to resolutions but I'll be sad that it's over.

Mary

[watty]

Julia -- D'Hoffryn has always struck me as being a benevolent demon, even though he wasn't really. He seemed the perfect character to use in this context. I moved the story quickly, doing through a few days in a few paragraphs, cos the most important thing that happened during then was the moving in together discussion. They have grown a lot emotionally since they met again.

et al means "and others" -- we use it generally in academic journals. For instance "A Treatise on the Impact of Civilian Intervention in the Context of Vampire Slayage" by Rupert Giles, Buffy A. Summers, Willow D. Rosenberg and Alexander L. Harris may be shortened to "A Treatise etc" by Giles et al.


Minishrink -- Hallie was never intended to be a bad guy, her role in their lives had been that of a benevolent older relative stepping in at the right moment to offer her help. Deus ex machina may be.

Still wondering why we haven't seen anything of Tara's law degree, though.

Not sure what you mean. She's just a student and won't have any practical experience yet. Law degrees, like most academic subjects, are theoretical in nature. Besides she's probably been specializing in commercial or corporate law, and won't have taken many subjects in criminal or jurisprudence (bleh).


Debra -- yes it was fast moving, I skipped through a few days in a few paragraphs. Not much happening except waiting, and the moving in together talk so I didn't want to dwell on it.

Ok, I still don't really know where it's going

It's a rather complex and tangled web. But don't worry, if at the end of the story it's still unclear (and I expect it may be) I have a flowchart / diagram explaining the crime.


WillowRulez -- thanks for the happy re: Fred. She's one of my favourite side characters. We do too know that moving in together is the best decision ever but I wanted them to think about it, and talk about it sensibly as two mature adults would. They've grown a lot haven't they?


LittleBit -- I moved this part of the story quickly because there wasn't much happening except waiting. And the big moving in decision of course.

I like how you are moving the story along however a few more details and story development in regards to how things are unrevelling on the boat would be fab!!!

Well, here's the thing. I want us to be in the dark about what's happening on the boat. Adds to the worry and the anticipation, you know?


Zampsa1975 -- ass-kicking for Wilkins and Faith, let me see what I can do. Thanks.


Chris -- thanks for the reality check and perspective from the beginning. You're absolutely right, this wasn't the intended story when I first started almost 3 years ago. The best explanation is that I've changed, and I feel more comfortable with a more plot-driven storyline than exploring emotions lately. I tried to not lose the "feel" of the earlier chapters, hence the smell of bread-baking and the return of Aunt Hallie.

Wilkins was definitely the most complex and deep big bads (yes, snake notwithstanding). I don't have much personal experience with master criminals but the nasty people I've met in real life, even in their nastiness, don't have everything planned and sorted out. Someone bad will always encounter someone badder, if you know what I mean.

He's still in the race to come out on top, but I get the feeling that he's kind of winging it, acting out of desperation and narrow self-interest more than some fiction-ish Machiavellian masterplan.

*nods* He is more guilty of greed and selfishness; his 'master scheme' is summed up as: Wilkins get richer and more powerful. And we can use that to describe a great many people currently in jail.

Thanks also for the hat tip for the Wesley interlude. Season 3 Wesley had so much comic potential, and it is to AD's acting credit that he can then turn into a believable tough guy on AtS.


Mary -- like I said to Chris, S3 Wesley was great comic relief. And yes, I could totally visualize him cowering behind crates as the fight went on around him.

The action is picking up, we're coming up to the Final Confrontation part of the story. Most of the players are in place or getting in place. And if it gets too tangled up, I have a neat diagram to illustrate everything, heehee.

I did not want them to fall into moving in together. Tara's pride will prevent her from staying at any accommodation financed by Wilkins, and it would have been believable if she got her own place. That they went through the thinking process, and silently agreed, was testament of how much they'd grown since that accidental meeting all those months ago.

one can have very, very little and still live with immense class...class of that other, more enduring value

Oh Mary, that is so so so true. Wise words, oh wise one. Thank you!



[br]

[watty]

Title: Lamplight
Author: watty (hiddenwatson[at]gmail[dot]com)
Distribution: Chris and Susan have pre-approval. Anyone else please ask for my permission first.
Rating: R to NC-17
Disclaimer: BtVS characters, concepts and dialogue belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, The WB, UPN and others.
Summary: Contemporary AU. Where demons wear human faces. Two lives drifted apart, can they find their missing half?
Notes: This will be long and angsty. It also changes direction more than once. I had planned for it to go in a certain direction, I didn't know it would go that far. Sometimes, stories have a mind of their own.

Notes 2: my outline was approximately 2,000 words. This chapter came out of the bit that said "we need a romantic interlude here."



Part 36


"Greüzi!" The greeting was all over the airport: on banners, signs and the first word they heard from officials and servers.

They arrived early in the morning and passed through airport security quickly. The morning traffic was beginning to build up, but it was an uneventful drive through the city center and then to Meilen, a village to the south of Zurich.

The cleanliness and general tranquility of Switzerland was a much needed respite from the turmoil of New York. The air was crisp, the sun was out and the clarity of the lake brought a purity to their thoughts. Their rental car snaked along the road that followed the lakeshore, affording clear views of the lake and the houses alongside the road.

The villages and communities branching out from Zurich formed the usual commuter belt found in all major cities. Fortunately many of these had been able to retain their distinctive character and identity.

Tara was tired from the transatlantic flight but she was transfixed by sights along the way. The houses did look like they came from a chocolate box. Painted walls, wood-beamed roofs and oversized window boxes were the norm. They were simply, breath-taking. She followed the road signs indicating the districts they passed through: Zollikon, Goldbach, Küsnacht, Erlenbach, Herrliberg — trying to wrap her tongue around the unfamiliar words and pronunciations.

Following the map faxed to them by Aunt Hallie's housekeeper, they found the house at the top of a small hill and facing the lake. Willow carefully parked the car in front of the small garage and even before they could unload their bags, the door flew open and a woman of indeterminate age walked purposefully across to greet them.

"Greüzi! You must be Tara," she stepped up to Tara, shook her hand and gave her three pecks on alternate cheeks.

Tara was too frazzled to think why the woman recognized her so readily. "Um, yes. This is Willow. You must be Mrs George."

"Ja, ja. Married to Jörg for 27 years. But my son, he likes the English. Hence his father is George and I'm Mrs George," Mrs George chuckled.

She made to help with the luggage and a gentle tussle resulted since neither young women wanted to bother the older woman. She insisted and hefted Tara suitcase out of the trunk of the car effortlessly with one hand. They shrugged to each other and quickly gathered the rest of the bags to follow the rapidly retreating housekeeper.

"So, here is the living room and over there the formal dining room. Meals are taken in the kitchen and breakfast area, not the dining room," she pointed out the rooms, while still holding the suitcase as if it were a handbag. She was marching too quickly for them to keep up, let alone pause to admire the décor. There would be time for that. "Now upstairs."

Mrs George prepared two guest rooms when Madame's niece called her out of the blue to ask if she could visit. But one look at the two young women and the housekeeper decided they only needed one. She directed them to the larger of the two guest rooms. "And here we have the Moonlight Room. It is the full moon tonight, and you must leave the curtains open because the moonlight is so beautiful. So, I leave you to unpack? I have food in the pantry and directions to the village on the kitchen table."

"Mrs George, thank you," Tara said warmly.

The older woman paused, as if to say something, but hesitated at the end. She nodded and turned to leave them alone. "Miss Tara?" she asked, her voice shaking and very different from the matter-of-fact tone earlier.

"Mrs George?"

Mrs George swallowed and tears were brimming in her eyes.. "Have you heard anything about Madame?"

Tara shook her head sadly. "Nothing new. The police think she has been kidnapped, but thankfully they have proof that she's alive." The news of Aunt Hallie's disappearance had of course been passed to her friends and staff, but Tara didn't want to go into too much detail. One of the reasons was not to cause more distress, as was so evident on Mrs George's face.

"Every day I still come, clean the house. She doesn't like it when the garden is neglected," Mrs George said.

"Thank you. I'm sure she appreciates this. Partly why we're here, to make sure it's fixed up when she comes home," Tara continued.

"She'll come back, no?" the older woman asked hopefully.

"Yes," both Tara and Willow said firmly.

*****

They took their time to tour around the house and was awe-struck by its beauty. Surprisingly not extravagant, as they expected from it being Hallie's house. Instead, it was a perfect combination of rustic and luxury, a difficult balance to achieve. Most of the furniture looked as if they came from the mountains and yet the craftsmanship was so intricate that they wouldn't look out of place in a four hundred year old castle. It was the small details that caught their eye — hand painted stained glass window in the hallway, brass door knobs, gold-plated taps, full bathtub of the finest Italian marble, inlaid mother-of-pearl on the balustrades and the unmistakable quality of the soft furnishings attested to the care its owner put into the house.

The living room was dominated by a large fireplace, its brick hearth extending well into the floor of the room and with cushions of various sizes scattered at the side. Area rugs covered most of the flooring, but they could still see the original timber patterns underneath. The sofa was deep burgundy and very soft. Various armchairs and smaller sofas were tastefully positioned in the room to afford space and comfort.

As they surveyed the paintings and antique decorations that graced the room, Tara's eyes fell on a small faded photograph in a wooden frame. It was in a cluster of what appeared to be family photographs on the mantelpiece. Now I know why Mrs George recognized me. It was a photo of her when she was fifteen. She had no idea how Aunt Hallie had gotten it, perhaps Aunt Marie sent it to her. She hadn't changed that much over the years, although the open innocence of teenaged her was no longer evident.

The dining room, as Mrs George described, was formal. The oval Queen Anne Cherry table was surrounded by twelve chairs and covered by a fine lace tablecloth. A marble-top sideboard and an impressive convex china cabinet stood at one side of the room while paintings in matching frames were dotted on the walls. Mrs George told them that she made the centerpiece herself, using flowers from the garden.

The kitchen was functional and they could sense Mrs George's brand of homeliness stamped on each surface. She fed them a late breakfast of fresh coffee, homemade croissants and cheese, which tasted better than any hotel gourmet breakfast they'd ever tasted.

"I leave you to rest now. If you need me, telephone me. I am only 15 minutes away on bicycle," she said as she cleared up the breakfast plates.

Willow was on her second cup of coffee, sipping slowly to enjoy its taste. It was different from American coffee, and Mrs George served it with warm milk, which was a nice small touch that she made a mental note to remember. "You cycle?"

Mrs George smiled proudly. "Ja. I live in Herrliberg, the next village up. I cycled into Switzerland from Austria when the war started, and I have been cycling since then." She kissed both girls on the cheek and told them again to call her if they needed anything. Taking her basket from the kitchen table, she was gone and they heard faint whistles as she bicycled away.

*****

After a day exploring the house and village, they had dinner at a restaurant on top of Pfannenstiel, a small hill behind Meilen with a view over the lake. Ordering was a challenge since they didn't speak German and the wait staff had a very limited knowledge of English. Nevertheless, Tara managed to order bratwurst mit zwiebelsauce und rösti, which tasted so much more superior than sausages with onion gravy and hash browns. Willow discovered that her cordon bleu gefüllt mit bauernschinken und käse, röstikroketten und gemüsegarnitur was wiener schnitzel filled with farmer ham and cheese, served with potato croquettes and vegetables. Washed down with a bottle of local white wine, it was an unforgettable meal.

After dinner, they found themselves strolling hand-in-hand along a narrow footpath by the lake. It was a beautiful full moon, as Mrs George said earlier. The bright moonlight illuminated the lake, casting a silvery shimmer on the surface. Lights from the houses dotted along the shore were reflected in the water's depths, and their reflection added to the symphony of lights playing on, and seemingly within, the water. There was no noise, just the gentle lapping of the waves as they splashed unhurriedly onto the shore.

"I can forget myself here," Tara sighed. "Nothing but you and me; the lake and the moon."

Narrow steps led down to a small jetty that served as landing platform for the small sailboats and dinghies anchored nearby. Willow sat on the top step; Tara wasted no time sitting on the step below and melting into the cocoon of Willow's body, relaxing as her lover's hands reached around her shoulders. "I should feel tired, but this is so nice," Willow said. "Are you cold?"

Tara snuggled further into Willow, earning a small gasp as her back ground against Willow's pelvis, sending arousing signals tingling from the pit of their stomachs. "No. I feel perfect right now."

"Mmm."

Sometimes, a moment was so magical it transcended the fabric of language.

All they needed was the knowledge that their breathing, their rhythm and their emotions were completely in sync.

After a long time, Tara half-turned just as Willow dipped her head and their lips met in perfect harmony. Tara turned her body completely so she was kneeling between Willow's legs, close enough so their breasts crushed against each other. The kiss continued, grew in intensity and soon they felt their passions ignite.

"I can't get enough of you," Tara murmured into Willow's mouth.

"Oh god, neither can I," Willow responded.

The heat of their bodies flamed into a fever, and their hands explored hot flesh underneath clothing. Shirts became untucked and one hand, it didn't matter whose, undid the zipper of jeans and found its way inside. Another hand, and it didn't matter whose, cupped a breast that was soft and swollen. Fingers flicked on a nipple, making it hard; other fingers found a wet clit, feeling it stiffen.

The rays of the full moon filtered through swaying tree branches, but its brightness could not match the radiance of their desire.

"We can't do this here." They thought it was Tara. But it didn't matter as another deep, hungry kiss made them forget where they were.

"Bed. Moonlight. Can you hold it till we go back?" Definitely Willow. Another kiss. More, more.

Tara shook her head, trying to find some coherence. "We need to run. Fast." She looked deep into Willow's eyes, finding the same insatiable need reflecting her own.

And they ran, as if their lives depended on it. And well, their lives did depend on it.

*****

The moon was beautiful that night.

And as its beams wandered through tall curtainless windows and shone on two lovers moving and dancing, sharing and singing, it bore witness to two souls reaching deep into each other's core and becoming as one.

Full. Complete. Whole.

*****
[br]

[whatmakesyouhappy]

DIBS I LOVED IT WATTY GREAT STORY!!!!!!

[db]

Watty. I have been remiss. I love how this stoy i sunfolding -- each turn reveals a hint at the whole of the mystery, and at the same time manages to bring Willow and Tara even closer. Of course they are going to move in together and live happily ever after... but in the mean time a hot moonight interlude is workin' juuuuuuuuuuust fine by me! M8BoS thinks that they are closer than they know to the answers... a lot closer. M8BoS is expecting a surprise to come around the corner at any second...

Sorry so brief.

I think this is going to be the best I can do for some time.

db

[JustSkipIt]

Ok, so trying for romantic interlude, you definitely hit it. I felt like I could smell and taste the crispness of the air, the food for dinner, the moonlight and breeze. Mmmm. So beautiful and romantic. I love the not-so NC-17 scene. So much left unsaid but all we need to know. Well done.

[WillowRulez]

Wow! This story has a chapter completely without angst and Rösti? Perfect I fear you have something angsty in store for us.

"Greüzi!"

Lol, making me laugh by reading the very first word in a story. That's a first.
Beautiful house! Loved your descriptions and the update in general.

[Zampsa1975]

Beutiful update-y goodness...

[ringwaldoeuvre]

Watty, first, please accept my apologies for being delinquent with my feedback. My demanding and shiny new job is, well, demanding. Responsibility is hard.

Anyway, in the spirit of all the tomatonation that I have been reading lately, I will give my TWoP recap in the form of a dialogue between me and my alter-ego, sheedygenre. Not to be confused with Wing Chun and Sars. Because I am not. Sars. Even though we both live in Brooklyn. And we're both Yankees fans. Swear to god. Not. Sars.

Ally: Whoa, this fic is getting heavy.

Mary: Heavy? Heavy is Ryan Seacrest reading King Lear. This is Patrick Stewart reading Chekhov.

Ally: This is, like, Dame Judy Dench reading "Waiting for Godot."

Mary: This is totally, like, Morgan Freeman reading anything.

Ally: How did it get so Morgan!Freeman!

Mary: Maybe it was when Tara got a boot to the gut. Or maybe it was when Lily went missing.

Ally: Seriously, things got creepy, and since when did Willow and Tara know how to fight crime?

Mary: Maybe they watch a lot of "Twin Peaks," the epitome of creepy crime fighting.

Ally: And midgets. Don't forget the midgets. At least there are no midgets.

Mary: The story isn't over. Give watty time.

Ally: [pause] Right. But then it turns into a Masterpiece Theater production of "Antiques Roadshow."

Mary: With that Wesley guy, it's a little more like "Hudson Hawk."

Ally: Oh no, not the Hawk. Anything but the Hawk.

Mary: I know, right? In the meantime, Willow and Tara do the nasty, and it's hot.

Ally: Totally hot. They're so perfect. Willow is totally my TV girlfriend.

Mary: And Tara is my TV girlfriend.

Ally: I thought Veronica Mars was your TV girlfriend?

Mary: Same difference. They're both blonde. Hot. Fight crime. Sassy. Plus, something needs to fill the void now that the show is cancelled.

Ally: Sigh. So it looks like everyone but the girls are in deep trouble now.

Mary: I don't like that Wilkins guy, he bugs. I wish I had a yacht.

Ally: Any more than the fact that anyone would belong to a vampire cult?

Mary: It's better than being a Scientologist.

Ally: Xenu will not be pleased.

Mary: But he might dig the idyllic trip to Europe with Willow and Tara. Check it out. It's like "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg!"

Ally: Oh no, it's... no... it's...

Mary: A really hot version of...

Ally: The Sound...

Mary: Of Music!

[watty]

whatmakesyouhappy -- thanks.


db -- hi and hope you're enjoying school. Unfolding is a good word, there's a lot I wanted to cram in, OTOH I didn't want too much crammed in. So I try to be brief. Glad you liked the moonlight romantic interlude.

M8BoS is expecting a surprise to come around the corner at any second...

heh, your 8BoS is not far wrong.


Debra -- wow, thanks. Sometimes its really hard to accurately describe in words one's reaction to the environment. I so wish I had pictures to link to the lake and the mountain (okay it's more like a hill) top restaurant. Thanks again.


WillowRulez -- I like having that "honor" of being the first and may be only writer to start a story with a Swiss-styled hello. Heehee. Thanks.


Zampsa1975 -- thanks.


Mary -- I laughed and laughed and laughed at your snarky feedback. It's wonderful and how I've missed it. twop too, cos the forums are banned at work. :( I dunno, you're not Sars? But you have a shiny new job, with demanding responsibilities. Wouldn't that so accurately describe twop's absorption into the corporate world at NBC/Bravo? LOL Anyway, I think we've milked the Sars/Not!Sars joke for long enough. I really love the name-checking, how you can mention Ryan Seacrest, Judi Dench, David Lynch and Xenu in one post and make them all make sense. And Sound of Music! I'd sooooo be up for writing for hot versions of the Sound of Music. *faints at the thought of multiple Julie Andrewses*

Thank you thank you thank you! And I hope RL / job isn't so overly demanding. Demands are good. Responsibilities are good because they bring in the coffee and doughnuts, but still gotta leave you time to frolic.


[br]

[watty]

Title: Lamplight
Author: watty (hiddenwatson[at]gmail[dot]com)
Distribution: Chris and Susan have pre-approval. Anyone else please ask for my permission first.
Rating: R to NC-17
Disclaimer: BtVS characters, concepts and dialogue belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, The WB, UPN and others.
Summary: Contemporary AU. Where demons wear human faces. Two lives drifted apart, can they find their missing half?
Notes: This will be long and angsty. It also changes direction more than once. I had planned for it to go in a certain direction, I didn't know it would go that far. Sometimes, stories have a mind of their own.

Notes 2: shout-out time, this one is for Cyd.


Part 37

Each day that followed they recovered a little more of their energy and spirit. Spring was in the air and Tara spent time puttering around the garden that her aunt clearly loved. She remembered the tiny pots of mint and cacti she kept on the windowsill at Aunt Marie's, but since then she'd never had an opportunity to keep plants. She was pleasantly surprised that she enjoyed it, and seemed to have inherited green fingers from an unknown ancestor.

Despite her prelation for objects of a certain antiquity, Aunt Hallie was fully on board with technological conveniences that the early 21st century offered. The house was covered by a wireless network hubbed at a powerful computer in the office. Willow tapped into the network and maintained their connection to the outside world.

Mrs George's daily visits were welcome and memorable. She brought local gossip as well as something "typically Swiss" for them to try. Cheese from the farmer's market, heavenly chocolates like they've never tasted before, milk from the diaries nearby. Willow developed a taste for Toni yogurt and was determined to sample all 27 flavors that came in cute glass pots.

They hiked around the lake, and drove to the Alps to experience the country's beautiful scenery at first hand. Much had been written about the exquisiteness of the mountains, valleys, lakes and glaciers, being there in person was a feeling that no amount of reading could never match.

Tara lost track of the names of places they visited though she knew Willow kept a meticulous record. Photos, entrance tickets and souvenirs were collected and sorted neatly into a large document portfolio Willow found for that purpose. The food they ate, the sights they saw, the people they met and Willow's own thoughts were comprehensively written up.

News from home was scarce. A warrant for Richard Wilkins' arrest was issued on the grounds of suspicion for fraud and handling stolen goods. But there was not enough grounds for kidnapping or assault.

Artina docked at Cork in Ireland but it got in at dusk, quickly refueled, took on supplies, and left the port before the garda could be mobilized. Only the captain left the boat temporarily to complete paperwork at the harbormaster's office.

It proceeded to make its way down the western coast of Europe. The harbormaster at Cork reported that Artina was cleared for Sines in Portugal.

"There's no way Agent Burkle or Detective Lockley can get here on time and convince the local police to let them play on their turf. By the time they're done with the chest thumping, the yacht's gone," Tara said after another not so informative report from Agent Burkle.

Willow was reading the newspaper. One of several on a pile next to her. She had gotten into the habit of scanning the New York Times, Financial Times and business papers in her job; and now they were in Europe she still hungered for news from home. At Tara's obvious frustration, she put the Trib down and placed a hand on Tara's arm. "I know. Not much we can do but wait," she tried to console.

Tara was focused at a point just beyond the window. "Well actually, we're only three hours away," she remarked.

"Yes, but what can we do once we get there? We can't march to the nearest police station and make demands. And besides, we don't even know if they're stopping at Portugal. It could end up being a wild goose chase." Willow felt like she was pouring cold water on Tara's idea, but her girlfriend was sick with worry and she didn't want them to act rashly. "I'm sorry, baby. I know how hard this is on you."

Tara slumped in defeat. "I feel so helpless," she said in a small voice. "There's a big part inside me that blames ... me. If I hadn't asked Lily to help out, if I hadn't involved Aunt Hallie ..."

Willow placed one finger on Tara's mouth. "Shhh. Don't do that. They don't blame you. In fact, when this comes to an end and we're laughing about it at Aunt Hallie's house, they'll agree it was the right thing to do."

Tara tried to ignore the pain she had been carrying since — she had to think about it — since she was beaten up. Before that, she still retained a belief that there was good in her ex-boss. Between that, Lily's disappearance, the ruckus at the auction, Aunt Hallie's abduction and her whole world turning upside down, she hadn't had time to completely work through the pain. Only in the last few days did she begin feel a modicum of peace and control. But once Artina reached Europe, the uncertainties and fears started bubbling up again.

Willow was right, naturally. They couldn't blindly follow the yacht all over Europe, they had to trust the law enforcement agencies to do their jobs.

Two days later, Artina passed by Sines without stopping. They were relieved, in a way, that they hadn't rushed to Portugal. However that threw a spanner into the works, and Agent Burkle freely admitted that they were scrambling to figure out where the yacht would stop next. "We don't know where they're heading ultimately. May be they plan to stay in the open sea, but it seems unlikely. We're picking up signals that their pursuers may have posted people in various ports around Europe. They may try to head down to west Africa, or cross the Mediterranean to the Suez Canal. We don't have much intel."

The next thing they heard, Artina was approaching Gibraltar. They also got their first piece of luck. The yacht had developed an engine problem and had to stay overnight for repairs. This time, the American agents were on their way.

Willow was reticent, but looking at Tara's forlorn expression of hope silenced her misgivings and they made arrangements to fly to Gibraltar that day. A flight via Madrid later and they checked into the Rock Hotel, half a mile from where Artina was berthed.

They had a nervous night, choosing to have dinner at a restaurant affording a view of the marina and spending most of the rest of the night observing the yacht. No movement was detected on deck although lights from the cabins were on.

"Hang in there," Tara said silently to Lily and Aunt Hallie.

*****

"Will!"

Willow shot up from a fitful sleep at the urgent cry. "Whoa?"

"Something's happening," Tara beckoned to her from her perch at their hotel window.

Willow quickly threw on a robe and trotted to where Tara was standing, the blonde appeared to have been at her observation post since daybreak. She followed Tara's gaze and saw that Artina was a hive of activity. "What are they doing?"

Tara blew out a breath. "I think they're getting ready to leave."

"What about their engine problem?"

"Must have gotten it fixed. Will, I hate this. Agent Burkle won't get here till late afternoon, and then there's the usual liaison stuff. We're gonna lose them again," Tara's agony was apparent.

It was the first time Willow had seen the yacht in daylight. She took the binoculars from Tara and zoomed in, noting the activity. "A lot of people moving all over, but I don't see anyone we know. Have you?"

"No. They must be below deck."

She continued sweeping over the vessel, passing over then stopping and returning her focus to the bow. Her eyes unfocused for a second, and then she saw it. It was clear as day. "I should shout 'eureka' and sweep you off your feet in a big hug, but it may be too early for that," she said quietly.

Tara frowned. "What?"

"I know where they're heading. Artina is an anagram of Tirana, the capital of Albania. It didn't click till I saw the name painted on the side," Willow snorted with laughter. "He's running to probably the only people who will help him."

Tara looked at Willow with alarm. "That's the other side of the Mediterranean, once he leaves Gibraltar he can sail straight there. I don't think there'll be much diplomatic help for us in Albania, remember Faith's connections?"

"May be the FBI can stop them en route," Willow said, unconvincingly. They knew very little about law enforcement but enough to know the FBI didn't have much pull overseas.

Tara gave Willow a hard look. "Not going to work, and you know it. We have to stop them ourselves," she declared.

Willow inhaled sharply. "Will you listen to yourself? We're not the Wonder Lesbians, Tara. We don't have superpowers to storm the yacht."

Tara snapped. "I will not sit here waiting for the cavalry to arrive, because by then it will be too late. Two people are held prisoner on that boat because of me. I'm going down there and I'm going to stop that yacht leaving this harbor."

"And how do you propose to do that?" Willow's voice was calm and even as she grabbed Tara's arm.

"I don't know! Something," Tara's emotions were so frazzled, she was on the verge of collapse from frustration and anger. She shook Willow's hand off and stalked bedside to retrieve her clothes, trying to stop her entire body from shaking like a leaf.

Willow was still. A part of her brain registered how controlled she was, compared with the tornado of nerves that was Tara. "Baby, wait. Sit down for a minute and breathe," she implored.

Tara ignored her.

"Tara! For fuck's sake sit down and let me think this through!" Willow's voice was sharp and commanding, but she never lost her cool.

Tara froze and looked like she was about to bolt. Then with a shudder she dropped the clothes in her hand and fell to a sitting position on the floor. She didn't notice the jolt as her bottom hit the wooden floor hard. For the next few seconds, she could only stare at Willow blankly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, too numb to cry.

Willow squatted down next to her with a serious expression. "If we're gonna do this, we need to do this right. Let's get dressed and go shopping," she said. At Tara's questioning look, she took her distressed lover's hand and kissed her palm soundly. "I have an idea. Trust me?"

"Yes."

"It may not work, but I'm pretty sur—"

"I trust you." Tara closed her eyes tight and took a deep breath to center herself. When she opened her eyes, the panic was gone.

*****
[br]

[JujuDeRoussie]

Hello Watty

The two last parts were very nice; The Part 36 was very romantic

Tha Alps are a wonderful sight. I know only the Frech part though.... but there are already beautiful sights. The Lake under the moon light? Grandiose!

I am very worried though. About Tara and Willow going by themselves to stop the yatch. They aren't the Smut Bunnies... I hope you have given Willow a good and efficient idea! lol

Aunt Hallie seems to have a wonderful house, but my favorite thing in her house is Tara's framed picture. It shows that she has always cared about her. And I don't know. I love this little detail.

Too bad Willow and Tara are in Andalusia, near the Huelva province, and no far away from Sevilla, and they can't even appreciate this. Surely they would have. But maybe you're going to make them manage to free Lilly and Aunt Hallie and then they all are going to visit Sevilla or better Granada... Ok I am going far away from your story
So... They are going to be in danger. Hopefully they are not going to be kidnapped by the bad guys.

Time for me to go, but I really enjoyed it and I am waiting for more.

Thanks for your update

Friendly,

Julia

[WillowRulez]

Again, very vivid and lovely descriptions of Switzerland and the house.

"I know where they're heading. Artina is an anagram of Tirana, the capital of Albania. It didn't click till I saw the name painted on the side,"

Genius! Cool idea.

"Will you listen to yourself? We're not the Wonder Lesbians, Tara. We don't have superpowers to storm the yacht."

*chuckle* Now THAT was funny.
I cant wait to read what will happen next! Nothing good can come of this self-justice. Sure, somebody has to do something and I liked that Willow stopped Tara and put some sense back into her but... I dont have a good feeling about this. Of course not lol!
Update soon?

[JustSkipIt]

Watty - it again seems that W/T are under the impression that they're the "wonder Lesbians" or something. They are totally being crazy with thinking that they are superheros or even regular heros. Now Willow has an idea? How very disturbing.

I'm also really curious as to Lily and Hallie's happiness onboard. I mean as far as being a captive, it seems to me that one would either be happy enough that at somepoint she's no longer a captive but a guest or will be a big pain in the ass to the point that eventually someone will either kill her or toss her off the boat in some port and then sail away without her. But keeping someone on the boat long term and treating her well seems strange.

Ok, not much more to say.

[ringwaldoeuvre]

So, Willow and Tara have started fighting crime. Or at least, they think they can fight crime. Stop laughing. Like, for real, you guys, they totally think they can fight crime. I mean it, Willow is all smart and her face is so resolved. C'mon, I'm serious! She's fighting crime!

Okay, not really. The girls are all hot and frustrated, and they don't quite know what they're doing, but have I mentioned that they are hot? Willow gets busy recognizing anagrams, and I think I want her on my Scrabble team.

Now I have to form a Scrabble team.

Willow has lots of bright ideas as they chase people all around Europe. It's kinda like "Mission: Impossible" with the globe-trotting and gadgets and stuff. Except this really is impossible. And we don't have to watch Tom Cruise. Phew.

Tara is all scared and stuff, which I get. I mean, if I was responsible for peoples, um, "lives," I think I would freak a bit. There's not much hotness in this episode, except the usual presence of Willow and Tara. I didn't forget to mention that they're hot, right?

[Zampsa1975]

Excellent update-y goodness... Going against criminals without police backup is not very good idea... usually injuries ensue...

[watty]

Julia -- I think we share a love of the Alps, it's a truly wonderful region. Thanks for the mention of Tara's picture, I think that Aunt Hallie regrets not having kept in touch with Tara all through the years ... now that's another story. I understand why you are worried, and no, they're not the Smut Bunnies. The thing is, Tara is clearly desperate and every little effort to try to delay the yacht until the police arrives may be worthwhile.


WilloRulez -- I'm glad the general consensus is a thumbs up to the Switzerland interlude. No, they're not superheroes and shouldn't be chasing criminals around Europe. Then again, it's a story ...


Debra -- you're completely right and justified in your worry. They should not be running around like they're private detectives. In RL it will be severely dangerous, so I'm using up some of the fiction writer's license I've appropriated for myself. I won't go into Lily / Hallie too much partly because I want to focus on the "action" so to speak. Thanks!


Mary -- oh definitely! For real, in real life it'll be too dangerous and a preposterous thought. But I'm working on the premise that in real life there's no radioactive spider bites. Glad you can find hotness even in the not!real crime fighting. Thanks!


Zampsa1975 -- yes it can be risky, but it'll be okay at the end.
[br]

[watty]

Title: Lamplight
Author: watty (hiddenwatson[at]gmail[dot]com)
Distribution: Chris and Susan have pre-approval. Anyone else please ask for my permission first.
Rating: R to NC-17
Disclaimer: BtVS characters, concepts and dialogue belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, The WB, UPN and others.
Summary: Contemporary AU. Where demons wear human faces. Two lives drifted apart, can they find their missing half?
Notes: This will be long and angsty. It also changes direction more than once. I had planned for it to go in a certain direction, I didn't know it would go that far. Sometimes, stories have a mind of their own.

Notes 2: I did read about Willow's idea in a book, but it's been so long ... I think it's The Freedom Trap by Desmond Bagley. I'm also not guaranteeing that the idea will work in real life. So if you ever find yourself needing to disable a superyacht in order to rescue kidnapped loved ones, and you try this trick and it doesn't work, don't hold me responsible.
Notes 3:: I know nothing about diving, but I do know that unless you're well qualified, you should always dive with a buddy.


Part 38

For $200 Willow bought a 500ft coil of the strongest nylon rope available from a nautical supply store as well as a thinner, shorter cord. The large coil was heavy, but she slung it across her shoulder like a sherpa going on an expedition. In a sports shop on the same stretch of the main street, they rented wetsuits and diving gear.

"Now we need a boat," Willow was walking-and-talking purposefully.

"We're going out there, aren't we?" Tara, who was carrying the suits and gear, skipped to keep up.

"Yep. I read this in a book. We're gonna get as close as we dare without arousing suspicion, then I'm diving down to wrap the rope around the propellers. It should be strong enough to immobilize them and not get minced to pieces. The best thing is that it's not suspicious, it can happen to any boat and it'll take a long time to undo the mess."

"And did it work in the book?"

Willow grinned. "Yep. Our hero was in the same predicament as us, needing to delay a boat until he could climb onboard, arrest the baddie and rescue the beautiful damsel in distress."

Tara covered a few steps before turning to Willow. "There's one flaw on your plan," she said seriously.

"What's that?"

"You are not diving down alone. We both are."

That led to a hot argument all the way to the boat rental. In terms of ability, there wasn't much between them — both were qualified recreational divers and had many hours of experience. Tara argued that they would get the job done quicker if there were two of them. Willow counter-argued that there was only one coil of rope and someone needed to act as lookout on their own small boat. Tara wanted to be the one diving down, since she felt responsible; Willow pointed out that it was for that exact reason that she was the better choice to carry out the assignment, since she could handle it objectively.

"Darling, let's not argue about this, it really doesn't matter who does it. It'll only take a few minutes. I'll tie the shorter rope around my waist and you can help haul me up when I'm done." The finality in Willow's voice was apparent.

Tara walked on in silence, and Willow was afraid she would get mad. Then she ran her hand up the inside of Willow's arm and it was fine. They reached the quay and paid for a whole day's rental on a fast motorboat. Gibraltar was full of tourists, and people renting a leisure boat to explore the multitude of wrecks in the bay was a common phenomenon.

Willow waited till they were well out to the bay before changing into the wetsuit. Tara, for disguise, also donned a suit, and covered her face with a large hat and sunglasses. Since the yacht was in the repair dock last night, it was anchored in the open waters in the bay rather than moored to the berths themselves.

They drifted slowly toward the yacht, keeping an eye on activity or anyone spotting them. When they were as near as they dared, Tara cut the engine and let the motorboat bob slowly in the calm waters. Willow had her gear on and had completed her checking. She tied the short cord around her waist and tossed the larger coil into the water. She took a deep breath and took Tara in her arms.

"I'll be fine. If anything happens, pull on the rope twice and I'll come right up," she said calmly.

Tara marveled at how steady Willow was. Her heart was pounding and she could feel adrenalin pumping through her. "Be careful, love. Come back quickly," she said quietly.

Willow kissed her. An open, tender kiss that promised everything Tara would wish for. They didn't exchange "I love you's" since there was no need. Nor good-byes. Willow splashed water in her mask and tumbled off the motorboat in one graceful roll. On the way underwater, she grabbed the rope and made sure it didn't tangle up with her breathing tubes. She entered the water from the side of the motorboat shielded from the yacht, and swam around their boat before heading toward her target.

Tara held onto the thin cord as if it was her life.

*****

Willow stayed at a depth of twenty-five feet until she reached Artina. Carefully she surfaced at a point near the stern to check that she had the right yacht. Satisfied with the confirmation she dove down and toward the propellers. This was the most dangerous part of the operation since there was a risk that the engines would turn on without warning. She would stand no chance against the powerful blades. She dismissed the thought, trusting Tara to keep an eye on the activities above her.

She made her way below one of the propellers and fumbled with the rope. It was very difficult, like wrestling with an octopus with long slimy tentacles. Swearing in her head, she worked the knot with stiff fingers until she finally got it free and uncoiled it carefully. She wrapped the end of the rope firmly around one propeller blade and began to wrap it around the other parts of the ensemble. It was hard work, the rope constantly threatened to wrap around her legs, or worse, strangle her. The water was cold and the yacht blocked most of the sunlight.

But finally she did it, tucking the other end of the rope into the cat's cradle that surrounded the twin propellers. When the engines started, the rope would tightened even more, completely melding it into the propellers. Hopefully the shaft holding the blades would bend and might even cause the engine to blow.

She had lost all sense of time while working, and when she looked at her watch a full half hour had passed. She was too concentrated in her task that she hadn't noticed any tugs on the cord around her waist. She knew Tara would be anxious, and swiftly made her way back toward their motorboat. She was so tired, and knew that she would need the comfort of Tara's arms and a hot cup of soup when they got back onshore. She pulled on the cord as she swam as quickly as she could, but there was no responding pull. She tried not to get worried, Tara might have tied it to the side of the motorboat.

She was almost back and she could see a dark shape directly above her. When she got closer, her heart stopped when she realized there were two shapes, a larger one next to the other. A moment of panic hit her and she almost lost control, becoming disoriented and almost losing her mouthpiece. She blinked hard and tried to steady herself. Carefully she swam away from the boats until she was about fifty feet away. She was just rational enough to remember to take her mask off to prevent the glint from the glass when she broke surface. All her self-control was lost and she had to try very hard to suppress a yell when she saw what was happening.

A speedboat had coupled itself next to their motorboat, its size and menace overwhelming their little craft. The unmistakable hulk of Luke had Tara in an arm-lock and was manhandling her onto the speedboat. Tara was shouting and struggling but helpless against the larger man's strength. A deathly chill passed through Willow, from the top of her head to the heel of her feet and she forgot to tread water. Her limbs felt leaden and felt herself shaking. Luke glanced her way as she was sinking and that jolted her senses back. When she came back up to the surface, the speedboat was on its way to Artina.

"Think, Will. Think. Don't lose it now," she kept repeating to herself. She knew she needed to keep her mind blank and focus only on the immediate present. She stayed in position, barely moving, in case the mayor's men came back. She watched in desperation the speedboat docking at the yacht and Luke again manhandling Tara onboard.

"Get your hands off her, you filthy oaf. Just you wait. You and I," she seethed.

No one looked or came back her way and she swam to the motorboat, but didn't climb on. Holding onto its hull on the ocean-side so she was invisible to Artina, she tried to rest and catch her breath.

There wasn't time to think of the hows and the whys. The fact was, Tara was discovered and captured. Since Wilkins didn't seem to have inflicted physical harm to his other prisoners, Willow hoped against hope that Tara wouldn't be hurt. More than ever, Tara needed her. She had to get herself back to shore to raise the alarm.

Although close to exhaustion, she knew that she couldn't take the motorboat. She would have to swim across the bay, and it looked further and further away. It would be a strenuous swim. She took off her air tank and pushed it onto the motorboat. She didn't think it would be safe for her to dive all the way back, it would have to be a slow swim. She was grateful for the wetsuit and mask.

Filling her mind with images of Tara, she took several deep breaths and started her long journey. Most of the time she side paddled, and when she was near Artina she ducked underneath the surface and swam as far as she could in one breath.

"Tara, remind me never to enter a triathlon," she muttered as, after what seemed to be an endless, mindless swim, she reached land. Too exhausted to do anything but to sit on the ground and pant, wanting to curl up and fall asleep where she was.

"Okay. Get up. Get up. Need to help Tara." She had been talking to herself and pushing, pushing, pushing. Putting one foot in front of the other, she made her way slowly to the hotel. Although she tried to keep her mind blank, she was in tears when she stumbled into their room.

*****

She peeled off the wetsuit and stood under the shower for a long time, tears still flowing freely and mixing with the hot water pounding her skin.

She avoided looking at anything belonging to Tara, lest it would completely paralyze her.

Agent Burkle and her team would arrive in two hours, she had to hold it together until then. She never thought of going to the local police.

Like Tara that morning, she stood transfixed at the window and watched Artina. Activity had picked up again, and soon the anchor came up and it moved off slowly. Was it only an hour ago that she was underneath it, getting the rope all over its propellers? And why was it moving?

She gradually became aware of a strange noise and realized it was her teeth grinding. It wasn't working. 2,000 horsepower was too much for a few coils of rope, she had visions of the propeller blades ripping through the rope, just like her hopes of rescuing Tara. She had to hold onto the windowsill to stop herself from falling over.

All gone. I'll never see her again.

The yacht made its way out of the marina, picking up speed as it headed into the Mediterranean Sea. Watching the white of the bow wave, she realized her life might as well come to a stop.

The grinding turned into a keening.

And then it happened. A slight swerve and it tilted on its starboard side. A sudden spin and water boiling at its stern as engines churned to keep the propellers moving. Then nothing. The bubbling stopped as the engines spluttered to a halt, leaving the yacht drifting uncontrollably. Willow could see frantic movement, and after a while, a tugboat from shore chugged its way to the stricken vessel, towing it back to the marina.

We did it. Now I'm coming to get you. Hold on.

*****
[br]