Hey Kittens, part 69 below. Yes that's right 69 before breakfast.
Tulipp & Autumn - I may have meant 24 hours... I mean I am on time now!
Effieblue - KathAryn... not your fault my parents could not spell.LOL
Miss Calendar - I was very worried about setting Faith up as likable then killing her... I glad thought that people have felt it fitted, that it felt right in some way.
Personal responsibility - well see part 69 below.
I find your thoughts very interesting here, and will have to consider them. The judge and executioner thing especially - I just saw Faith as being fair! As for the self-destructive desire to kill... well my take was that she did not want to do it.
As for how Tara will bear it... read on.
Part 69 below Kittens... Angst...
Katharyn
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Title:
The Sidestep Chronicle – Consequences (Part 69)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome.
katharynrosser@hotmail.comSpoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: Immediately after Faith’s death.
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: VW/T, G/J
Notes: I know that I gloss over some procedure here… it is necessary for the story. But I do try to explain it…
Thanks To: Kerry and Jo once more who both went over this with the proverbial tooth comb. And for Louise… who said Yes. (Not THAT sort of yes… just a Yes.)
The Sidestep Chronicle
Consequences
By
Katharyn Rosser
“Willow.”
She spoke the vampire’s name as it happened. Tara couldn’t see Faith’s face anymore. In that one moment she couldn’t remember what it looked like either. Willow had... How could she ever look at that face again? Then she remembered what Faith looked like.
She remembered what Faith looked like at the instant she had realised what was happening…
Faith had been scared then. Tara had never seen that before… it didn’t seem like the Faith that she knew at all. Faith had known what was happening in that last moment.
The vampire’s eyes just followed Faith to the floor. The slump of the dead weight landed with a thud that would never be repeated. She didn’t even want to think about what Willow had just done.
But there was no escape from it.
She had to think about it. How could she ignore it? How could she get away from it? It was there, the evidence, at Willow’s feet. On the floor. And she was… she… wasn’t moving. She wasn’t ever going to move again was she? Faith was gone. Faith was dead and she was never coming back.
“Willow,” she repeated.
Willow had killed Faith. The Slayer wasn’t getting up. Faith, her friend, wasn’t ever going to get up. She wanted Faith to get up. She wanted Faith to get up and use that knife she had been holding. Anything, even that… was better than this. She had been ready, before, to accept what Faith believed she had to do… hadn’t this just proved that the Slayer had been right?
Willow had killed Faith. She knew why. Willow hated Faith – not the just the Slayer – Willow hated Faith as a person. For being close to her. For being her friend. For taking Willow’s Kitty away from her. Being the Slayer had been the least of Faith’s crimes in Willow’s eyes.
And then there was the chance that Willow had been protecting her… Defending her playtime with Kitty.
Her lover
had hated Faith anyway. Now there was no Faith left to hate was there? But Willow would probably still manage it. Willow was filled with hate. Willow was a demon… it was natural for her to hate.
What’s my excuse for how I feel about myself? No demon here.Tara knew she had no excuse. She had let Willow kill Faith. Why had she done that? She could have said something. Anything. She could have said something to Willow, stopped her during her slow, silent, advance. She could have warned Faith even before Willow entered the room. The pendant… Goddess she had known Willow was approaching long before she had arrived…
But she hadn’t been able to choose between either of them… or her own life.
She had killed Faith. By giving up and surrendering to fate, she had condemned Faith to death. By doing nothing… By not choosing between Faith and Willow.
Friend and lover.
Living and dead.
Good and evil.
Look what she had chosen simply by her lack of a choice. Not even saving herself had been a choice that she could have made.
By default she had chosen Willow.
Willow, who had simply been doing what vampires did. They killed. Willow killed. Every night. And now Willow had killed Faith.
She had killed Faith.
She could have said something. Something to Willow that would have stopped the vampire from coming towards them. If she had done that, what then? Willow was unpredictable – she might have tried to fight the Slayer anyway. Especially as Faith held a knife to her Kitty. Willow… Willow wouldn’t have reacted well to that.
Willow hadn’t reacted well had she? No… Willow would still have attacked the Slayer and then she would have been killed by Faith. Tara didn’t doubt the outcome of that confrontation. Faith was almost as fast as Willow and a much better fighter than the vampire had ever needed to be. Stronger, more determined and most importantly a person who was
righteous.A person fighting evil.
Not a person sleeping with it. In love with it.
If… what if she had warned Faith about Willow?
She had been prepared for Faith to kill her. She had accepted that was what she might well deserve, even that her own death might make the world a better place. When Willow had arrived she had realised that Faith might detect the vampire and known that the confrontation might become a battle for her soul. The Slayer would be the one trying to kill her… to restore her soul to her. The demon would be the one trying keep her alive and preserve what Tara knew she had become. Almost as monstrous as the demon she had always been taught that she would by now.
Faith’s dead body was the manifestation of that monster. She thought it had passed her by, but she had really turned even before her birthday. Perhaps even at the moment when admitted to herself that she had fallen in love Willow.
No… not quite. It was when she fell in love with the vampire that Willow was now. She had originally fallen in love with a dream and that had been okay. It was the reality that had doomed her.
Faith was dead.
Faith was dead and even now she still felt for Willow… that was what love was. It couldn’t just be switched on and off. Even when other feelings intruded. Feelings about that other person. Feelings about yourself.
Willow had been almost completely silent as she had approached. No one could detect the vampire if she didn’t want to be detected. No one except for Tara herself. There was the pendant and well… Tara could feel her. She could always feel her. And she didn’t want to stop feeling her now – even after this. Somehow, despite what she was, Willow was a part of her. And Tara didn’t want to lose that. She would have lost it… if Faith had been warned, there might still have been a death, but no body lying on the floor of her apartment.
How was she supposed to have chosen between her friend and her lover? And by not choosing…
No warning would have stopped Willow from attacking Faith; from seizing the opportunity she had wanted for so long.
One of them would have died. She had to believe that would have been Willow. In a ‘fair’ fight Faith
would have killed her. She would have left Tara empty by doing that… and then Faith would have killed her too – which might have made it better.
The outcomes turned over and over in her head. She had chosen Willow’s survival, but it had not brought her any relief. Would that have come with Willow’s death? Or would the relief she sought come only with her own death?
Would warning Faith have been enough to save both their lives? Would that have been what Faith had wanted from her? A sign that she was on the right side… a reason not to do what she had come here for? By revealing Willow, saving Faith, she could have preserved her own life too. At the cost of one of theirs…
But she had no right to even her own life – let alone either of theirs. Especially not now… not after this. She had betrayed the people that she had been trying to protect by being with Willow. She had betrayed the memory of everyone she had failed to protect. Those Willow had killed since they had met… even her long dead family. What would her mother have thought of the body on the floor?
And now… now she had betrayed her friend… for a demon. It might be love… but that didn’t make it right. Had she done this to save Willow from Faith?
Was that why she had stayed silent?
She had killed her friend.
And now Faith was dead.
She wasn’t getting up and Tara couldn’t look at the body. Faith’s body. On her floor. Where Willow had killed her. She couldn’t look but it filled her vision anyway. When she closed her eyes and when she looked away, the image of Faith stayed with her on the back of her eyelids.
They had killed Faith. She had allowed Faith to be killed. She had killed Faith.
Finally the vampire looked at her after those long seconds. Better looking at Willow than at Faith. Much, much better. If she didn’t look at Faith then… she would still be there. They had killed Faith. And Willow… Willow’s face was…
Willow was happy.
No, Willow wasn’t happy. She couldn’t remember seeing Willow ‘happy’ anywhere except in her dreams. Instead Willow was gleeful. She was triumphant. The vampire was having
fun. Willow had enjoyed killing Faith. Tara had allowed her fate to dominate her, and Faith, and Willow
was her fate for better or for worse. Fate had taken a hand.
But Willow had enjoyed it.
What was there to enjoy here?
For better or for worse? It surely didn’t get worse than this. There was nothing about Willow that was better as Tara saw her now. Nothing at all. She loved the vampire, or at least the Willowish part of her, and maybe there was something there in return. Maybe she could believe the vampire’s words. But…
Willow had saved her life and she had enjoyed doing so. But not because she enjoyed saving a life, her life… it was the taking of life that she had enjoyed, the Slayer’s life. How often had Tara pleaded with Willow not to talk about that?
Willow had killed her Kitty’s friend and she’d had fun doing it.
Why had Willow done it?
Faith was dead. They had killed her. Why had Willow done it? What had been in her unbeating heart at that moment?
Nothing – Tara was sure that Willow didn’t think with her heart.
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The sound of bone snapping was still in Willow’s head as the Kitty spoke her name. More than once she heard it said before she even bothered to look up. Slayers were so rare and this was a moment to be savoured. Treasured. This was a moment that should become a legend.
The moment that she killed the Slayer. Mmmmmn.
And Luke in the same night…
It was a moment she would be able look back on, one that would
never be boring. Never. Just like the Kitty. This was special.
There would always be another Slayer, but there would never be another Faith. This Slayer was dead. She had killed the Slayer. Faith was gone… and she had been a Slayer. Possibly only taking the lawyer’s head in her hands like that would have been sweeter. Certainly the thought of dealing with Lilah was the only thing that came close to making her feel this tingly.
The only thing other than the Kitty. The Kitty always made her feel tingly.
She wanted to play… She wanted to play
now.And she hadn’t even tasted the blood yet.
She was ready, the Kitty was there and the Slayer’s blood was… fresh. It would still be warm. It would have been better to bite whilst Faith was still alive – for the freshness and the fear. She would have loved to make the Slayer afraid. Perhaps there would have been a split second of that as she’d felt her head reach an angle that the neck could no longer support.
It had to have hurt… but only briefly.
And with pain came fear. Fear was just a chemical reaction… if the Slayer’s body had reacted soon enough then there might still be a tang of the fear in the blood. The heart had stopped pumping it around the organs that might have taken those chemicals away. So said the old Willow, though she knew that the fuzzy one had never had to consider it in those terms. There was a chance that she’d still be able to taste the fear – and that was good. The important thing was that the Kitty was here and so was the Slayer’s blood. She had wanted this since the Slayer came to town… the blood had properties. It had
fun playtime properties.
Even without the fear.
She was sure that she wasn’t going to be able to get the Kitty to
try the blood… and there would probably have been no reaction to it anyway from someone who was not a vampire. She had to admit though that she didn’t need any help feeling aroused around the Kitty… look she was perky already… killing was always exciting… but the aphrodisiac qualities of Slayer blood were well known.
The old Willow might have tried to quantify that scientifically, but the old Willow probably would have fainted just from seeing the body. She would never have been strong enough to make this kill herself. She wouldn’t have been interested in the Kitty in all likelihood. The old Willow had been timid… just a little girl. A girl interested in dreaming of boys. One boy anyway. Never woman enough to claim and be claimed by the Kitty.
Willow was that woman now… and she wanted to play. She looked at the Kitty and smiled. Her best, inviting, grin and then she squatted beside down the body of the Slayer, feeling the leather of her trousers tighten around her naked flesh. Mmmmnn… soon fully naked. Soon playing with the Kitty. She would even let the Slayer watch. She would turn the head in the right direction and allow Faith into their fun. The Slayer’d had such lovely hair. Strokable.
Was the Slayer interested in being a voyeur? It didn’t matter… the Slayer was dead, but she would still be there with them in the bedroom. Willow looked into her lifeless eyes. The Kitty had suggested that the Slayer got the urges to play too – from her kills. From killing Willow’s kind.
Willow could understand that… Her own body was charged in the aftermath of this one. Faith might have made an interesting vampire… if there had been no Kitty to play with. She could feel her body still building. Warming – and she hadn’t even drunk yet!
Add the Slayer’s blood to heat and there would be arousal on a level that might never have been seen before.
Seen, felt or tasted.
This was going to be a
very special night.
She had killed the
Slayer. Would the old Willow have been able to do that? No. Never. Never strong enough for that. All fluffy. All pink… The Kitty had some pink parts… parts that Willow wanted to play with now.
She had killed the Slayer and now she was on a par with the Master and Luke. She was their equal. Except they were dead. She had killed them too. Mmmm. The knowledge and the power it gave her filled her, every part of her. Fun parts too. And still no Slayer blood had passed her lips. This was going to be sooo much fun.
She grabbed the Slayer’s body, lifted it, preparing to bite… but first – before she got her true face on… she turned to the Kitty. “Wanna be bad.”
It could have been a question. It wasn’t. Willow needed to be bad. She needed to work off the new delicious tension in her body. She needed her Kitty to do that. She wasn’t about to offer the Kitty a choice in this once she agreed. Willow was definitely intending to be on top – no matter how sexy Tara might be when she took charge. She needed it… maybe the Kitty did too.
“Wanna be bad now.”
She prepared to bite the dead Slayer’s still warm neck, giving it a quick preparatory lick. Cleaning the area rather than taking anything from it.
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“Wanna be bad now,” Willow said to her.
Those words ripped into Tara in a way that nothing about this whole thing had up to that point. If Willow had been trying to save her… showing some love… then it would have been better. Surely a little better. Just a little… Because she had needed saving; Faith had been ready to kill her; she had been ready to let Faith to do it. But
that was what was in Willow’s head? Lusts, desires… Killing Faith for her blood.
The vampire was about to bite Faith’s dead body. Her face was tainted by the demon that was inside her. No, by the demon that she was. Willow was evil…
Willow wanted to play.
Now.
She wanted to bite Faith… she was licking Faith’s twisted neck.
“No.”
She wasn’t saying it to Willow. She was saying it to Faith. She wasn’t going to allow this. She wasn't going to allow Willow to violate Faith’s body as she had allowed the vampire to take her life. She might have allowed Faith to die. But she wasn’t going to let Willow drink from her. She wasn’t going to allow Willow to touch her anymore.
Lick… Tara shuddered.
The vampire started to react angrily to the denial of her pleasure, obviously intending to bite her anyway. Willow wanted to play and she wanted to be in charge too…
There was no play here. There was no joy. There couldn’t be.
There was just Tara’s dead friend.
Had there ever been joy? Maybe on her side of it… maybe.
Faith was dead… and there were two people who had killed her. One of those was a demon rather than a person and that just heaped more guilt on Tara herself. Faith would have killed her, but who could say that the Slayer’s reasons – the Council’s reasons – were not valid after this?
She just… she just couldn’t face losing Willow.
She still couldn’t. That was why she had not been able to take a hand. To make a choice that would have killed any of them. Why she had felt that she just had to let whatever that had to happen, happen.
And look what that feeling had got her. Her lover was about to bite her dead friend for the start of a ‘play time’ that Tara could never allow to happen. She should never have played with Willow at all. Ever. She knew that.
But Willow had saved her from being killed by Faith.
Without Willow I would never have needed saving.“No,” she said again as the long lick concluded. Again the word was not intended for Willow. But this time she
pressed and the vampire was flung backwards, away from Faith’s body which slumped to the floor again even before Willow crashed into the wall, shaking the sideboard with the force of the impact. She was a vampire though, she wouldn’t be hurt by that.
Tara knew she wouldn’t have done it if the action could have hurt Willow. That was a huge part of the problem.
Willow’s eyes flashed. They were already yellow as the demon had been given its licence, not the lovely green that they should have been. She had always liked Willow’s eyes. Even back in the time when Willow had just been a dream the memory of those eyes had lived with her, haunted her after she awoke from dreaming.
Young woman… not a vampire. The dream Willow was more alive than this one was. Even if she wasn't even real that was the person that Tara had fallen in love with.
For a moment after the impact she thought that the vampire was about to come at her, attack her. There was rage in those eyes which was quickly replaced by a gleam of a different, more familiar kind. It was a light that Tara recognised well. It was Willow’s desire. Willow thought she wanted to play and she was more than willing to go along with it. The vampire was sitting up, unfastening the corset, giving Tara a smile that had only one meaning. Willow still wanted to be bad with her.
She loved Willow but now, at this moment, the idea filled her with disgust.
“Leave. Now.”
That stopped the vampire… absolutely dead stop. Stopped her cold. All things that Willow was. Cold, dead. Stopped in time… unchanging.
Faith was dead and Willow was thinking of playtime? It made her feel sick.
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“Leave. Now.”
The Kitty, despite a lot of provocation in the past, had never spoken those words to Willow before and Willow didn’t want to hear them said again. They said too much. They told her to go… which she shouldn’t allow, this was her territory. It might be the Kitty’s apartment but it was
her territory. That was why she had killed the Slayer… the Slayer was in her territory and the Kitty… only one person was ever going to kill the Kitty. If it
ever had to be done then it would be Willow that did it.
Only her. So much did she enjoy Tara that no one else was going to interfere with that.
Only Willow. She had already had to make that point to Luke. And now to the Slayer too. Was everyone around here stupid? The Kitty was hers – not theirs. But now the Kitty wanted her to leave? What was up with that?
She had saved Tara from being gutted with the knife that was still in Faith’s hand. Nice knife, she could appreciate a tool like that – she might have to keep it for herself. It looked like it would cut flesh sooo easily.
Did the Kitty have no gratitude at all though? Couldn’t the Kitty thank her properly? Couldn’t the Kitty show her appreciation to Willow? “Wanna be bad,” she said again but she could see that if she was going to be bad then it would be all alone and not with the Kitty.
The Slayer’s blood would be wasted.
She didn’t think that Tara was going to let her take it with her.
The Slayer, what was up with her anyway? Why would Tara’s ‘friend’ be holding a big, sharp, shiny knife like that to her? Threatening Willow’s Kitty… she must have been stupid or something to try that. The Slayer had known about her she was sure… that just made her stupid if she had thought that Willow would allow that. If she had done it then Willow would have hunted her down. And… why hadn’t Tara been fighting back?
The Kitty could have done to Faith what she had just done to Willow herself. Thrown her clear across the room with a thought, a wave of her hand. It hadn’t even hurt that much, but the Slayer wouldn’t have been able to get near her. Why hadn’t the Kitty been fighting back? She hadn’t known that it was Willow that was coming this way… even with that pendant. And if Tara had been trusting the pendant then she hadn’t known she would be saved until Willow had actually arrived… when the Slayer was already stood over her then. Already threatening her.
The Kitty had… given up.
Willow was more than surprised – surprise was finding yourself in a strange world where you were all pink and fuzzy. This might have been the first thing that had shocked her since finding out that Tara was real and not a figment of her imagination, or a thing of her dreams.
“You always fight
me,” Willow accused her. It was true. Tara never allowed Willow to have her own way. Not all her own way. There were always limits. There were always restrictions that the Kitty imposed on her – if only because she was willing to accept them. For her Kitty. “Why didn’t you fight her?”
“I was tired Willow,” the Kitty replied.
Was tired? Past tense?
Tired?
Tired even before? Before the Slayer had come for her. And now the Kitty, Tara, was angry with
her for killing Faith? This was her fault? The Slayer had come to hurt the Kitty. The Kitty had seen her… known what she was going to do.
Tara had let the Slayer start to do it.
And now this was her fault?
Why was Tara tired?
Tara had slept just fine all last night. Willow had watched her.
The Kitty sounded tired though. Perhaps they could just sleep now… playtime later. Without the Slayer’s blood which would be cold by then. But if the Kitty was tired… Willow could make do, for now. Bed was a place of being all naked and close – there were opportunities to provoke playtime. But then the Kitty said it again.
“Go. Please Willow just go… I have to…”
Willow had to obey her. There hadn’t even been the words ‘thank you,’ let alone
proper thanks.
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With Willow gone Tara knew that she had to tell the police. She had to tell someone. She had to do something with Faith. Get a doctor… something… She had to…
She had to stop.
She had waited until Willow had gone before she allowed herself to do anything at all. To speak again would have risked begging Willow for help that the vampire could never give her. Willow didn’t have that capacity within her soulless shell. It was either the begging or condemning her for something in which she had by no means acted alone.
To move would have been to fall into Willow’s arms.
Or to beat her hands against the murderous demon’s chest – perhaps finding a stake in her hand in the flurry of blows.
No. Not that. Tara was sure that she couldn’t.
Less sure though now that she thought about it. She should have done that long ago.
Willow had to leave before she could do anything at all about Faith.
Perhaps her final words to Willow had been too harsh because her lover left without a word, with barely even a look except for a final smirk at Faith’s dead body. Was Willow making a point or genuinely enjoying herself with that look?
It didn’t matter.
Faith was dead.
She had practically chased Willow out of there in order to be alone. Without moving or speaking much. She looked down at the floor. No. Not quite alone. Not alone at all. She could almost hear the Slayer if she closed her eyes… and she did close them. A lot. In that hour or so… she had her eyes closed for so long. To what was happening. To what had happened. But somehow they always opened again. She couldn’t stop herself looking, as if to prove to herself that it was really true.
She couldn’t quite make out the words that the image of Faith was saying when she closed her eyes though. The voice was there, in her head… but it was indistinct.
It might have been an hour later when she crawled across the floor with her chest wet where the tears had dripped from her chin and soaked into her clothes. Free flowing tears. Tears of years and years. Tears for everyone who had died. Everyone she had failed. Everyone she had helped and then betrayed.
Tears for her family.
Tears for her mother.
And, yes, tears now for Faith.
Faith should never have been a part of those tears. The Slayer had always been fatalistic, knowing that one day – maybe soon – a vampire was going to succeed in killing her. But it should never have been like this. Never like this. Never without a chance to fight.
She should never have put Faith or anyone else in the position where they even had to come to her like this. She had made… some bad decisions.
And this was the result. People were dying.
She hadn’t cried since that day at the High School when she had first discovered Willow Rosenberg’s name; stared in disbelief, and perhaps a little longing, at the picture of the girl that Willow had once been. The girl of her dreams rather than her nightmares. When had she cried before that? Not since
they had died and she had become the person that she probably never should have had to be.
The person who got people killed either by her actions or by her lack of actions.
A person who could not win… but should have tried.
Perhaps she was crying for the Tara Maclay that she should have been.
The one that she wasn’t.
If she wasn't crying for that Tara then perhaps she should have been mourning her absence. Perhaps she would have been able to do better.
That other Tara Maclay might, after this, have been able to hate Willow instead of just hating herself. Because that was where she was now… she still couldn’t hate Willow. It must have been the love getting in the way.
She crawled over to Faith and took the knife from her hand carefully so that no one would know that it had ever been there – and who would they tell? She couldn’t let the body be found like that – as the Slayer. Even though the police would not know that she was. She had to be found as Faith… she had to have something other than being the Slayer. She had… she had to be the one thing Faith had never allowed herself to be.
Faith had to be the victim now so that she wouldn’t be condemned after she had died. And Tara knew that she couldn’t tell the whole truth…
Faith had to be the victim
Faith was the victim.
Even Willow was a victim in a way. It was Tara herself that had made all the choices. She was the guilty party here.
She managed to get up and used the magic to force the knife from the bathroom window onto the much higher roof of the building opposite before returning to the bedroom, falling again beside Faith.
“I’ll see you again,” she told the lifeless corpse. “I will. We’ll go down town… and maybe I’ll even have a drink this time. Not just water you know.” She dragged her sheet from the bed. Her fingers tore the fabric as she grasped it and pulled the elasticated cover from the mattress. “Soon, you know. We’ll do it soon.”
Then she covered the body and somehow she couldn’t believe that Faith had stopped looking at her. Why would Faith want to go out on the town with her again? This wasn’t how friends were with each other.
And Faith was dead… they weren’t going anywhere.
Jenny… By the goddess… what about Jenny?
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Tara slumped against a streetlamp, sliding down it to the cold ground. The sun would soon warm it up. But it couldn’t warm her could it? Hadn’t something sucked the life from her? Daybreak was threatening as the sun sent its rays up from behind the horizon turning the sky orange.
The sun wouldn’t warm her. She was beyond warming. The cold within her had set in for good. Like permafrost.
It had only taken them a few short hours to get to the conclusion that she could go? Why the hell could she go? She should have been locked up… but she couldn’t be. She had things that she absolutely had to do – so she had told Detective Stein the truth.
Almost the truth. Just the parts had been switched around. Faith was her friend. And she hadn’t known the intruder who kicked in the door.
Is that how you treat your friends Tara? No sir it’s not.
Faith had been there visiting when someone had broken in and attacked them. Faith had died… protecting her. Their attacker had run off when Faith had died. She didn’t think it was a deliberate killing.
Except that she had allowed it to happen. If the detectives thought that she looked guilty it was only because she was.
The killer… the other killer… must have been in a gang or something. On drugs. Maybe PCP.
Detective Stein had looked unsurprised at that description, knowing full well who she was and for whom she worked. Maybe that was what had made him believe her story. Maybe he didn’t believe her. Nevertheless they let her go. She had been complicit… but she hadn’t done the deed. As they had said, she didn’t have the strength to snap a neck like that.
That at least was true.
I don’t have the strength for the things that I should do… let alone the things that I shouldn’t.She rested her back against the streetlamp and hugged herself, her knees to her chest, looking into growing light. And then there was someone there, outlined by the red glow. Blocking it. A hand reaching for hers.
She recoiled when she felt the cold.
She had completely missed the pain that the pendant was causing her. Perhaps that was what had happened before when… It was inconsequential compared to what was inside. Nothing… nothing compared to what she was feeling. She shook the hand away but it was persistent and grabbed her.
It pulled her up with a strength of which that slight body should not have been capable. She knew who it was. She didn’t care though. She couldn’t look at the vampire. Even when Willow put her hand under Tara’s chin and lifted her head she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see.
“Have to go now. Daylight,” the vampire said.
Of course Willow couldn’t stand the daylight and it was coming. They were both creatures of darkness now.
Perhaps if I just held her now… until sun came up on us. Her destruction might take us both.That wasn’t what she had to do though… not enough. Nowhere near enough. That wasn't why she had lied to the police. That wasn’t why she wanted to be free… here… in the world… for just a little longer.
There were things that she absolutely had to do.
She had put them off for far too long already. She owed them to Faith. She owed them to everyone that she had failed.
She finally opened her eyes and looked at Willow. There was concern in the vampire’s face, but no compassion. The sun was coming up. Willow feared it of course. But Willow was here anyway. She had found her here. Willow had come for her.
Maybe the bite would be kinder. Then she could be like Willow, not feeling all this.
No. Not that. Never that.
“Go home,” she finally said. “No you can’t. The police are there… just go Willow. Go somewhere. Hurry… or you’ll get caught…” Even after this, she was afraid not
of Willow but
for her.
What does it take? What does it take to make me see sense?She left Willow there, walked away from her, knowing that the vampire wouldn’t linger in some big dramatic gesture. Willow was capable of them but had little need. Why should she worry about Willow? Willow was a survivor.
She owed it to Faith to sort things out. Finish them. She knew what the right thing was, it was just that she was too caught up in the wrong thing. She’d needed to be taught the difference again.
Maybe now she was learning that lesson.
-------------------
He used the big door knocker even though it was early in the morning. Not a good night at all. Murders in Sunnydale were a dime a dozen, most of them though were out in the streets.
This part though – this part he hated the most.
It never got any easier and wouldn’t be just because they were not blood relatives. The Maclay woman had said that they were close… Friends. She had wanted to do it, but procedure wouldn’t allow that. Besides she was the only suspect that he had – even if he knew, both officially and unofficially that she didn’t do it.
But she knew something that she wasn’t telling. He was sure of that.
He heard the drowsy voices from inside and knew that they were coming to the door; he ran his hand over his smooth head. Was it any wonder that he had already lost his hair at his age? This sort of thing was bound to make you lose it. Better the hair than the sanity.
And that witness, the Maclay woman? Well he knew who she was. He had his orders about anything to do with her. How the reports had to read… but then she had actually said to him ‘Gang Related – PCP.’ Which meant that she was hiding something. And that she wanted him to know that she was. He figured that she knew , as he did, that the actual amount of PCP that had ever actually been in Sunnydale he could have held in one hand.
It would have gone in the report that way – orders were orders – but she had a cheek, or a guilty conscience, to be using that on him. If she hadn’t been so obviously distressed then he would have pushed her on that. Hard… She obviously wanted to be punished. Survivor guilt perhaps. She hadn’t done the crime, but she wanted to be punished for it anyway.
He couldn’t do that though. Orders were orders. Standing orders direct from the Mayor especially so.
Really it wasn't the murders that were the worst thing, or even the notifications afterwards. For him it was not being able to do what he had joined the force to do. Solve them. To help people. He’d been in Sunnydale long enough to know that he was never going to get anywhere near being able to prove anything in most cases. Not to a jury anyway. But things around here reached a certain point and then stopped.
Orders were orders.
Tara Maclay could have told him more, he was sure of that. He could have broken her like an eggshell the state that she was in right now. But the chances were that he would never even get to ask her about it again. She wasn't the killer – that was clear enough – but he was damn sure that she knew who was. There was no mystery here. Not to her anyway.
She hadn’t been uncooperative… more in a daze than anything. But he could tell when people were exaggerating, misleading or flat out lying. It was like a gift. Sunnydale PD was not quite as ‘deeply stupid’ as people frequently made out. The clean up rate was hampered by orders and by crimes that were committed by things that were outside the of law. And aside from actually having brains, the department was also filled with officers who were sensitive to the needs of other people.
There was no way to deal with so much death and not be sensitive. The ones who hardened themselves, they were the ones who had, over the years, eaten the barrels of their own guns. Five officers who had started with him had gone that way. Three more had become part of the Sunnydale crime statistics. Even those deaths had never really been explained.
Instead of ignoring the pain, he’d learned to embrace it and use it. Work with it and get through it.
Didn’t mean he would ever get used to it though.
It was a pretty lady who opened the door. He knew who she was, she had taught his son Computer Science until Mike had graduated last year, but if he hadn’t he could have easily mistaken her for the sister of the dead younger woman. Faith. Sort of anyway.
Nice name Faith.
“Sorry to bother you so early Miss Calendar…” he started, seeing that she recognised him after some brief, no doubt early morning, confusion. It must be tricky remembering not only the students but their parents too. Especially at this time in the morning. “Mr Giles.” The librarian had quickly followed his fiancée to the door. He knew Mr Giles… he had been a witness to a few crimes in his time. A lot of people in Sunnydale had.
He hadn’t known that they were getting married until Miss Maclay had told him, almost as an aside, when she had been worrying about how they would take the news. How she would tell them. He had relieved her of that task and she had glared at him. In that moment he had actually been a little scared of her. He had actually thought that maybe she could have committed the crime. Then it was gone and he knew that she hadn’t.
From what the suspect had said to him Miss Calendar and Mr Giles were not just giving Faith a place to sleep. They were friends too. That meant he had to be even more careful.
It was the curse of the police officer, especially a detective, that if one turned up at a strange hour of the day or night people always assumed the worst.
In Sunnydale it was generally worse than they imagined.
He saw the reaction flit across the teacher’s face when she figured out that he wasn’t there to talk about his son’s grades from last year. Poor as they had been. She knew that something had happened. That something was wrong. The librarian was a little slower – but then Mr Giles didn’t know who he was – their paths had crossed only in records. “Sorry, I’m Detective Stein, Sunnydale PD.”
The reaction came then.
The librarian knew as well.
“I believe that Miss Faith Reed was staying with you…”
Damn he hated the past tense it was a shitty way to have to put things.
-------------------
Willow lay on the floor in the bathroom, far from the sun, hands crossed over her naked belly, waiting for the Kitty to return. Tara’s apartment was sealed off so Willow had decided that she would take the one opposite. It was empty and she would be able to hear the Kitty come back. Willow could often feel her as well. In hindsight she had to admit that she had screwed up. Killing the Slayer was all well and good, but expecting Tara to play then… that was a mistake that was going to prevent playtime for a while to come.
Trying to bite the Slayer was probably a bad decision too and the lick… her licks should only be for Tara now. She knew that well enough. The Kitty was jealous. That must be it.
The Kitty was going to be down for a few days at least and that meant that Willow was going to have to make her own fun. A sick Kitty was bad enough, that was just messy – at least she could make use of that for earning gratitude. A depressed Kitty… that was just going to be just boring.
Willow still wanted to have fun. She knew she was going to have to go out to find it. Once night fell again. She needed a kill already and the sun had only just risen. She had been anticipating dining on the Slayer for those few minutes she’d had the chance… it still made her tummy rumble.
She amused herself wondering if perhaps now that the Slayer was dead she could have her fun with the Watcher… maybe along with the, as she remembered her, always fun loving, Miss Calendar. That might be interesting too.
Not like playtime fun… because that was just for Tara now, but definitely vengeance. She had missed her vengeance on the rest of the White Hats and if she could accomplish that with the delicious Miss C, who even the old Willow had always liked in a special way, then so much the better.
-------------------
Tara had been outside for awhile when the detective pulled up. His partner, who had also been the interview room with them, had stayed in the car. She wasn't surprised he hadn’t been sensitive enough for this job. She sort of liked Detective Stein though - in as much as you could ever like anyone interviewing you about the murder of your best friend.
He actually seemed to care. That was all that mattered if he had to be the one.
If it had to be anyone who told Jenny and Mr Giles better it was…
It should have been her.
She had offered but he had stopped her from doing that. She had almost flared then. She had felt the darkness within her. The darkness was loving this…
I should be up there telling them. But how can I… when I was the one who let Faith die? Let her get killed? Maybe with a few hours to figure it out… the how… maybe. But the Detective was there
now. They would find out now anyway.
She could have left, but she didn’t. She owed it to all of them to see what she had done. Hear it at least. Maybe throw herself on their mercy. If they had any sense then they wouldn’t have any on her. She crouched on the steps leading up to the next apartment. She could hear the words spoken at the door.
Many of them.
She missed him telling them that Faith was… She missed that. Maybe the wind had shifted… maybe her mind had blocked the words out and stopped her from hearing them.
She couldn’t miss the reaction though.
She couldn’t miss the shocked, anguished cry of Faith’s friend. “No.”
No.
She couldn’t miss the repetition. She couldn’t miss Mr Giles trying to sound strong and take them all inside. She couldn’t miss the pain in their voices.
She couldn’t miss the heavy door closing and shutting her out.
She could miss Faith though.
She already did.
There was just the things that she had to do now.
*****************
by Tulipp » Tue Aug 06, 2002 7:26 am 
at: 8/8/02 3:44:58 pm
