Certain people are *scampering* waiting for this... so here it is. I wrote Part 102 yesterday... barring the return of parts from beta and the redrfating I will do then I declare this fic... finally written.
Enjoy. If you can.
Katharyn
------------------
Title:
The Sidestep Chronicle – Beliefs (Part 98)
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: Tara and Willow move on from Ira’s.
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: T/W, J/G
Notes: This part was written as one with what will be Part 99 and this split is what dictates that this will not, in fact, end with Part 100 (which is a shame as that would have been nice to have an even 100.) This means that you lucky people get something of a cliff-hanger.
Thanks To: Kerry for beta reading all this, picking the holes, dealing with the excess of “that” thing. Which part though of “don’t do it all” did you not understand sweets?
The Sidestep Chronicle
Beliefs
By
Katharyn Rosser
Tara could have stayed in the house with Ira and Willow forever, rather than face what had to come next. Instead they’d just managed to stay an hour or so beyond the lunch that Willow’s father had provided for them after the morning of joy, uncertainty, and sometime uncomfortable silences. It was natural… in the best of circumstances what could anyone have said after five years? And these were so not the best of circumstances. Still, Ira hadn’t wanted to accept that they were going to leave him so soon but Willow had promised to return again before they left Sunnydale and he’d been somewhat mollified by the idea that they might be coming to live, study and work there.
And it was ‘they.’ Ira had made an entirely correct, but uninformed assumption about what they meant to each other. Everything he’d said about the future he’d addressed to both of them.
They had to be sure it was safe though. Right now, there was a still a faint chance that someone, whether it be lawyers or angry relatives, would come after them and neither of them had wanted to put him at risk him because of that. Besides he seemed overwhelmed by the sheer fact that he had a daughter again and Willow…
Willow had a father again.
It was the tiniest of things, but in the back of Tara’s mind had been the fear that even if he had accepted Willow back into his life, that he might not be able to accept
them. The way that he’d accepted their love without a blink though… He was caught up in a love of his own - for Willow and the return of her humanity. Maybe he would blink at them later, Tara didn’t think so though, after all that had happened why would he develop any sort of problem with their love?
Even though he’d clearly been almost overwhelmed by Willow’s coming back to him, nearly as overwhelmed as Willow herself, he’d found time to speak to Tara outside of discussing their futures together. Time to ask Tara questions as well. Maybe that was the inherent manners of the man. Maybe it was to give Willow a rest from the questions and still get the answers he needed. But they hadn’t hidden the fact that they were in love and when he’d taken their hands as the left his home… Tara had believed he was as happy for Willow having found love as he was that she was back in the world as the woman that she should always have been.
All that bothered her was that, this time, Sheila’s name was the one that had never been mentioned. Maybe it was for the best though. When Tara had been there a little over a year ago, Ira had never mentioned Willow by name.
Maybe he’d wanted to avoid upsetting himself then.
Perhaps this time he was trying to avoid upsetting Willow. The facts had to have been in both of their minds. But Tara knew the real facts… It hadn’t been Willow who did those terrible things to her own mother. He knew that intellectually and when Tara had allowed herself to feel the emotions that he was broadcasting she’d known that he didn’t doubt it either.
It was just Willow who was putting herself through the mental meat grinder again. It had all gone away until they came back here. Maybe not gone away… maybe just faded in the light of their feelings for each other. Feelings that had developed in the time they’d been away from this town.
The last place that Tara had been before she left Sunnydale was now one of the first places she dreamed of going after their return. If Willow hadn’t, without a word, guided them to Ira’s then they would already have been there, but unlike Mr Rosenberg, Jenny already knew that Willow and Tara were coming today. They’d told her in advance. Well… had she mentioned Willow? Had she ever specified who ‘they’ was?
Surely she had. Just because she couldn’t remember writing the actual words…
Willow had never been there, to their next destination, before but to Tara it seemed a lifetime since she’d last climbed these steps, and she’d left Miss Kitty here in her box. And the time before that… when she’d listened to their horror as the Detective had told them about…
Faith.
And the time before that, with Faith, they’d made their way to the big wooden door, and entered without knocking. That time they had just walked in and Faith had thrown herself over the couch as if she owned the place, or as if it was her home. And it pretty much had been hadn’t it? And if it was home, what did that say for the people she’d lived with? They had been her family in as much as Faith had ever really had one in the most meaningful sense.
A family that she would now be facing just as Willow had faced all that she had left of her own. Willow was a good deal more relaxed now than she had been when she’d stepped through the door of her old house. Seeing how Ira Rosenberg actually felt, and talking to him had made things easier for Willow, who now actually wanted to go back there before they left. To see him again.
A few hours ago she hadn’t even wanted to let him spot her.
Now it was Tara’s turn to be terrified. She’d faced death, she’d faced demons and monsters… even found that she had fallen in love with a part of one… but this? There was a measure of reassurance in having being invited by Jenny, but Jenny was only by one of the people who lived here. It wasn’t Jenny who she really had to worry about – in fact she was looking forward to seeing the teacher, and her infant daughter.
It was Mr Giles…What would he say when he saw her?
It was Willow who used the big knocker to draw attention to their arrival. Somehow Tara had found her arms had turned to lead and that she couldn’t actually raise them to make that simple gesture. She hadn’t needed to, or later dared to, before, not even to leave her cat there for them.
Willow made her braver than she felt. The fact that Willow
knew what she was feeling. And that she was there for her. Tara had offered to leave Willow with her father and come here alone. Ira Rosenberg had looked as if that might have made him happier – spending more time with Willow. But Willow…
Willow had promised him that they would come back. ‘They’ had seemed important and Ira had managed a smile then. But it was the explanation of why Willow had to leave too that had just melted Tara. ‘I have to help her Dad,’ Willow had told him, ‘like she helps me.’ Then Willow said it – ‘It’s love you know?’
Tara had been able to see that Willow regretted saying it straight away. They were all sitting there and they all knew what that other thing, also called Willow, had done to the person Ira Rosenberg loved. The people…
But he had just confirmed to her that he did know what love meant and he’d graced them both with a smile, and something resembling a demand that they should come back. Soon.
They would too.
Maybe after this visit. Willow knocked again for them and it took a little while longer, but they could hear sounds from inside. A female voice that shouted back, confirming that someone was in fact there, and coming to the door.
A few moments later the door opened.
It was Jenny, clutching at a bundle of clothing that looked to have just come out of the washer. A bundle that she seemed to almost drop when she saw who was there. “Tara.”
Despite the fact that they had been writing to each other, and that Jenny had been expecting her to arrive sometime today she still seemed surprised. It still, to Tara, seemed to be a non-committal use of her name.
But perhaps not because of what Jenny thought of Tara. Maybe. After all there had been the letters that they’d sent. There had been an invitation to come here once Tara had mused on paper that maybe she needed to come back to Sunnydale, to deal with things. But the invitation had been in the letter. Tara had never dared to call Jenny for fear of having to speak to Mr Giles, Faith’s Watcher. She’d never been able to measure the reaction in Jenny’s voice.
But the letters. The letters had shown that it was alright to be here. Didn’t they?
Tara supposed that it was a different thing to have her here on the doorstep. That was entirely a different thing for Jenny. Offers made, even arrangements made, were not quite the same as the actual reality and what that might mean.
Had Jenny even told Mr Giles?
“W-We should…” They should have called. Told Jenny that they were coming over at that time. Given her a chance to get out of it. Tara was ready to leave, knowing already that it must have been a mistake to come here, if not back to Sunnydale altogether. No Sunnydale wasn't a mistake - it had gone so well with Willow and her father. Too much good in a day could be bad for them. How would they cope with too much good that wasn't about strictly them? They weren’t used to it.
Willow stilled her with the slightest touch against the back of her hand. That was all that it took and Tara realised what Willow already knew. Jenny wasn’t looking at her anymore. Jenny was looking at Willow.
Willow out there in the daylight.
Willow who Tara had never mentioned directly in her letters. Tara had implied, even stated, a ‘them’ but she’d never used the name Willow. Jenny might have assumed from that ‘them’ that there was someone else in her life… or she might have thought that was where the vampire had gone. With Tara – and in a sense she had – briefly in the form of ashes.
And yet Willow was stood on the doorstep in the afternoon sunlight.
Intact and not burning up.
She’d never said that she was bringing
Willow with her. Never suggested that the real Willow was back in the world. Jenny hadn’t known. They might have thought that the vampire still existed – just elsewhere, possibly even with Tara. And that… and that meant that her reaction was probably the best that Tara could have possibly hoped for. Quick assimilation of the facts. A Willow in the sun. Not so pale as the dead… a little tanned even from the work on the farm and the riding.
All things considered, Jenny did pretty well.
And Jenny didn’t miss the touch with the hand. Even as her lips started to form a silent ‘how?’ her eyes flicked to that connection. It was true, it really was because if the love… The teacher reacted by turning, going into the house and dropping the bundle of clothes on the couch. There was a smile on her face. Not a beam, not ecstatic or joyful, but it was a smile and Tara could tell that it was genuine. She could make do with a smile for now. There
were things between them, even if the mere sight of Willow might have helped Jenny understand. Jenny was well acquainted with the occult. She knew that with enough power and enough sacrifice pretty much anything was possible.
She knew that Willow was possible, and whatever misgivings Jenny might have herself, Tara speculated that she was more worried about her husbands reaction. Explaining Tara would be one thing… enough. Willow another thing entirely. And there was still Faith…
“Tara,” Jenny began again as she came back, empty handed this time, “It’s been…”
“Less time than it should have been – perhaps?” Tara replied, unsure whether they should really be here. She should have told Jenny about Willow. All about her. About all of it. The real Willow. Even if the teacher had thought that Willow still existed and was with Tara, then she would have to assumed that she was still a vampire too… and that Tara could never bring her here. Wouldn’t do that.
And if they had thought that Tara was still living with the vampire, just elsewhere… that would have coloured their perception of Tara. They’d believe that she’d still accept something like that.
She had done for a long time, it wasn't unreasonable.
It had been months, perhaps enough time to dim the tearing pain of loss and grief a little. Or perhaps not. When she’d lost her parents… it had resulted in a five-year odyssey searching for justice… or revenge. Would Mr Giles be any different now that he’d lost Faith?
Or Jenny herself?
“Maybe Tara,” Jenny admitted. “But you don’t have to be afraid of me or being here,” Jenny offered her arms and Tara gratefully accepted the hug, returning it and blinking back a few tears. Just a few.
“I’m sor-” Tara started.
“I know,” the teacher replied as they parted.
“Mr Giles?” Tara asked, stepping back to stand beside Willow again and finding her love’s hand slipping into hers. Squeezing. She was a little embarrassed by the hug. They’d never hugged back then, before what had happened.
Now I get hugged?I get hugged for having been complicit in the death of Faith That wasn't right, but it had still felt good. It had still felt welcoming, warm, reassuring and true… and it had made her feel that maybe it wasn't a mistake to be here. In the circumstances it felt almost as good as seeking solace in Willow’s arms would have done.
But there was still the question, the question about Jenny’s husband. The sudden way that the letters had been changed from being signed ‘Jenny’ to a proud ‘Jenny Giles’ had demonstrated that. A postcard from Vancouver on their honeymoon actually. A subtle signal before the following letters had changed back to just ‘Jenny’ again… and Tara had been ‘forced’ to ask for the wedding details. She and Willow had enjoyed that letter more than most.
Willow…
What was Jenny thinking about Willow? What was Mr Giles going to think? Less or more than he did of Tara herself? The person who looked so much like the thing that had killed Faith or the person who was exactly the person that had allowed it? Which would he hate the most?
“Yeah,” Jenny mused. “I never really got around to telling Rupert that you were coming. There was always tomorrow and… then it was today and there wasn't anymore. Besides things have been a little hectic – a child does that to you. Come in though.”
Jenny must have seen her hesitation, and Willow was waiting for something more explicit than that. Willow no longer needed to be invited in, but Jenny was pretty much speaking to her now, Tara realised. That was fair… the new mother had to be a little unsure about Willow. Tara’s hesitation though was all down to Mr Giles. This was his home too and he didn’t even know she, they, were coming?
“Please…” Jenny said to them both, holding the door for them and waving them to come inside.
As Tara went in she turned her head to see Jenny and Willow come face to face. She could see the curiosity in the teacher’s eyes and the fear in Willow’s before she cast them downwards.
“Willow,” Jenny said.
Perhaps it was a more formal greeting, a specific invitation or maybe it was a question, as if Jenny still didn’t quite believe the evidence of her eyes. But the sun was on Willow. She was plainly human… it had taken Tara some getting used to.
And Willow herself.
--------------------
“Miss Calendar.” Willow’s response was automatic. She’d always been taught that she had to respect teachers and that included addressing them formally. It usually meant that the respect thing was helped by getting their name right. “Sorry, Mrs Giles,” she corrected herself knowing that she sounded a little sheepish.
Willow was still looking down, flicking her eyes to make sure that Tara was there – and her baby was waiting for her just inside the door – and to meet Jenny’s as little as was still polite. While she was looking down though, a hand intruded into her view.
Willow looked away from the hand and at Tara instead. She wasn't questioning anything, she just wasn’t sure what… She knew what she should do. The hand of friendship was being extended to her. In fact the hand of friendship, as her own twitched, was pretty graspy and demanding all in all.
Which was nice because average that out with her reticence and it was all pretty normal.
Jenny took her hand and held it gently. “Willow…” Jenny seemed to consider for a moment, then continued. “… It’s been a long time since you were in my class.”
A long time. A neutral statement. A lot of water under many bridges.
Enough blood to form a river under those bridges too.
And without Tara that river might never have stopped flowing. Did Jenny realise that, what Tara had done?
“It’s Jenny, okay Willow?”
Willow knew that her face must have been the picture of all things incredulous. To be welcomed… as something like a friend. After what she’d done? But the gentle hand was what convinced her that this wasn’t just some show to make either her or Tara feel comfortable. Jenny really meant it. Enough that she felt that she could actually raise her eyes up and look her former teacher in the eyes. “Yes… okay.”
That was all that she could say and before her lack of words could become embarrassing Willow found herself being drawn by the hand through the door and into their home. All she could remember was the frustration of the vampire at not being able to get into this place to slaughter them all. They’d always been far too careful for that. Xander had even turned a Girl Guide and sent her out, just as the sun went down, to sell them cookies. That had failed too.
Another death for no purpose. Thankfully for no purpose.
As there was a tiny cry from across the other side of the living room where she found herself immediately she was through the door, Jenny let go of her hand and hurried over towards the source of the sounds. Willow made her way to Tara’s side and Tara took that same hand then – though her touch was much more of a caress than Jenny’s had been.
As was fitting for the woman she loved.
There were more sounds from the side of the crib that Jenny had gone over to. She’d bent over it, reached inside and it was the teacher that was making sounds that Willow never really thought that teacher’s actually made to soothe the occupant. As the cries grew a little more strident and demanding though it was obvious that nothing short of the embrace of her mother was going to soothe the baby.
Willow had often thought of that, from being a little girl herself, a little like muffling – but then that would have been cruel. There hadn’t been many babies in her life. It was just that the girlish impression that you cuddled a baby like a doll and that muffled the cries had stuck in the mental image that she’d formed. Obviously not the case though because that was not only dangerous but silly. She’d known that even before Jenny turned around.
“She doesn’t usually quiet down that fast,” Jenny explained as if she had been expecting her daughter to perform for them for a lot longer.
“Maybe – Maybe she’s on her best behaviour,” Willow suggested. It seemed something safe that she could say and avoid the whole badness issue. Jenny smiled and came over to them with the infant in her arms.
The baby was, ostensibly, their reason for being here. Tara’s reason at least. But she thought that everyone knew the truth… the child was just one reason for them coming back here.
“Maybe she takes after…” Tara trailed off and Willow felt the regret run through her lover as she stiffened at her own words. Tara had been about to say ‘Faith.’
Jenny just grinned though, either ignoring the unspoken word or not being bothered by it. At first the grin was accompanied by her making silly little noises to the baby and then again at the pair of them – without the silly noises that time. Just the grin was soothing enough. It really was alright – with Jenny at least.
It was alright, never forgotten but definitely forgiven, by Jenny as she came right up to them. Willow hadn’t moved because she’d known that Tara was rooted to the spot after what she’d nearly said. Tara wasn’t going anywhere at that moment. It didn’t matter though because Jenny came right to them, alongside and turned. This time Willow was happy to look and it was Tara whose eyes were downcast… but Tara really should have looked.
Jenny sort of forced the issue though, offering the best view of her baby to them that she could. Still so very small, dark hair topping her head and otherwise utterly hidden by swathes of blankets. Tara finally looked up when the baby gurgled at them. Willow wondered if it might have been a greeting – welcoming them to her home. Or cursing the fact that they’d spoiled her nap. Who could tell with babies? Someone really should work on a translator, Willow mused. Babies all over the world could be making fun of their parents.
“Tara, Willow… meet Faith.”
Right now though there was no translating baby sounds, but she knew what her lover was feeling as she looked at the namesake of the woman they’d killed. Willow felt it too.
------------------
That first, fly-by, hour was filled with small talk, baby anecdotes that neither she nor Tara had any basis for, and never once a mention of the woman whom little Faith was named after. After her initial slip Tara had been very careful about that. Willow really didn’t remember that much about the Slayer because the vampire had never known her and Jenny… well, Jenny was sensitive to Tara’s feelings and caught up with her feelings for her daughter.
It was nice… but it was also sort of dodging the issue. But, Willow supposed, Jenny didn’t know the other reason that they’d come here. Jenny didn’t know that they felt they had to try and start to make things right. Better. Besides there was bound to be awkwardness given the time… and what had happened.
They had to feel their way. There was no easy way to get to what was bound to come up eventually. ‘So have you let anyone else be killed in front of you recently?’ Jenny wasn't going to ask that now was she?
Nor was she going to ask Willow where she’d been for the last five years since they had been teacher and pupil. Jenny knew that very well… and ‘did you eat anyone nice,’ was something else that really wasn't likely to come up in polite conversation.
So they sat there. Willow and Tara on the couch and Jenny, with Faith, in the armchair. The placements were only interrupted by Tara approaching Jenny and Faith… mainly to get a closer look at the baby. But then she’d come back without touching or holding her and awkwardness would ensue again.
It was hard to know what else to say – Faith gave them a topic that was nice and safe… but they’d known that would happen before they got here – even with Jenny. They’d all been glad to see each other, now they were just figuring out where they could go from there. In between was small baby talk and awkwardness, Willow remembered awkwardness well enough.
Willow watched Jenny cradle her child in her arms, continuing, between the words that they spoke, to make little noises that Willow assumed babies liked. Willow had never really been very close to any. Another use for that translator… it could of been like ‘I’m going to eat you for dinner – which wasn't nice.’
Babysitting, even for older children than Faith, had never been something that her mother had felt that she was responsible enough for. And yet she’d been responsible enough to pretty much lead her own life whilst Mom and Dad were away? No babysitting, no brothers or sisters and no relatives with children living nearby. It was hardly surprising that she’d missed out on the whole baby thing.
Tara seemed to have a better handle on how things worked there. But then Willow couldn’t recall Tara telling her of any babies or young children in her own life either. She had been the baby in her own family, but there might have been relative’s children. She realised that she didn’t even know if Tara had been a babysitter.
When Tara went over to Jenny and Faith, it was like her love was holding two conversations at once. She would go to stand, or kneel beside Jenny. One conversation was the continued small talk with Jenny and Willow, the other conversation was with the little girl. Tara came back quickly enough – but she couldn’t quite bring herself to stay away or ask if she could hold the little girl. That was what Willow thought anyway. Some of that was that Tara had become plainly enchanted with the little girl. But in addition to that Willow could tell, mainly from Tara’s face when she came away from Jenny’s chair, that her love had found something which distracted her from the guilt she was feeling more keenly by being here but was unable to address.
Willow doubted that the same trick would work for her. She’d looked at Faith, but not knowing either the Mother or the other Faith as well as Tara, the baby was a curiosity to Willow – though she had plenty of that. It actually seemed a little rude to crowd Jenny and her baby, though perhaps Jenny felt a little more at ease when Tara was talking to her daughter too.
Faith was someone that was bringing them together. They’d come here, ostensibly, to see her. And now that they were here… the little girl was doing a wonderful job until they found a way past the awkwardness.
It was when Tara excused herself; obviously detouring past Jenny and Faith, to go to the bathroom that Jenny offered her daughter to Willow. “Would you like to hold her, Willow?” Tara paused in the corridor from the room and looked back at her love, meeting what must have been an uncertain pair of eyes and smiled, seeming to be encouraging her to take the child from her mother.
“Me?” Willow asked. It was a baby. They were all delicate and she could be so clutzy sometimes. Besides there could be an ick factor as well. At either end. Or both. That was the way it worked. Someone took the baby, picked her up and then the ick factor kicked in. It was in all the movies.
“You,” the teacher confirmed.
“Hold Faith?” Just to be really clear. Jenny might have meant for her to snuggle Tara or something – that would have been strange but maybe that was how the Calderash Clan liked to make their guests feel welcome? Let them snuggle? A quaint custom…
“Yeah you. Faith” Jenny told her, watching her carefully.
Willow had been aware of Jenny watching her, from time to time, throughout that whole hour that they’d been there. Not just glancing or looking, but studying her. Maybe she’d passed that test? No, it wasn’t like Jenny was ‘studying’ her, but just laying the occasional hairy eyeball on her. Jenny had probably been worried in case she suddenly tried to drain her of blood, snap her neck… or hurt Faith. Like she had the other one.
She would never, ever do that. She’d like to think that she never would have – even when she… when the other Willow had been the one that was in Sunnydale – but she knew
that Willow would have just made a light snack of Faith. Unless there had been away to use her to torture her parents… and the vampire would
so have enjoyed that.
Never.
Not me. Tara smiled again, nodded to Jenny at her glance, and came back to her without making her bathroom run. Willow knew Tara, and her love wouldn’t want to miss this. She knew that she might as well bow to it… Tara was going to make it happen perhaps as an excuse to hold Faith – even for a few seconds – herself. Jenny had offered but Tara had always said ‘a little later,’ or something.
“How? I never…” The other Willow had held a few babies… but never for long. But the vampire had never ever held one properly.
She was so small. So fragile. I’ll hurt her just by holding her wrong. An hour of watching Jenny and she still had no idea what she had to do to keep the baby safe in her arms, even when sitting perfectly still.
Jenny brought Faith over to her and Willow stood up… hands fidgeting and having to idea where to lead her arms. But Tara was there. Tara knew… Tara would show her – that was what Jenny had silently asked her to do with that glance and Willow realised this
was as much for Tara as it was for her. Jenny was… Jenny was trying to get them past the awkwardness. She was trying to bring them closer and showing them the trust she must really feel to do this… that should be a great way to do it.
Though Jenny had offered Faith to Tara to hold more than once, Tara had always demurred. Until… until it was just to show Willow what to do instead. Tara could do that, satisfy herself a little and yet… be helping Willow. “Like this sweetie,” Tara said and taking Faith gently from Jenny, showed her how to cradle and support the baby.
True to Willow’s expectations, Faith immediately blew a large bubble of drool when she was handed over to her care. She’d known about the ick but that was pretty low key compared to what she might have feared and actually it seemed the most endearing thing she could have done at that moment.
To you too Faith. To you too. But instead of saying that Willow found herself making those same noises that Tara and Jenny had been making. Maybe it was a universal thing with babies and the only way that they understood you. That was what she was saying though… at least for the first few noises and half-words.
Unless that was how babies developed? Did they suck the sense out of adults and feed on it to grow up? There were some demons like that, yes… but humans no. It was just a reaction. One that she shared.
Between those sounds and the movement… Within seconds of taking Faith, she had started a slow rocking motion and the child seemed to forget the indignity of being passed around and continued to gurgle, content to be in these hands as she was in any others. Blue eyes fixated without focus, probably on the bright colour of Willow’s hair. Babies did that didn’t they? They could see the contrast between colours. She’d read that once. Or seen a documentary. But lurking within Willow was the question that Mr Giles would certainly ask and Jenny had to be wondering about... What would she have done to little Faith if she’d come here as a vampire?
Even after she’d met Tara.
She looked at her love who was captivated by the sight of them together. Then over at Jenny who seemed to have relaxed in her presence at last. They all… they’d all relaxed. No one was wondering if they could trust… and just everyone knew that they could. And yet this, this was the most dangerous time. Willow knew, she remembered, how little force would have been needed to maim or kill Faith – even without a vampires strength.
She pushed the memories away. They just made her all the more careful, rocking Faith and herself. Lulling the beast that she remembered as well as the baby. It had no part of her anymore. None. Holding this child she knew that what she’d still feared most, that the demon might not be entirely gone, was not an issue anymore. If it had ever been going to come back… it would have been now. It had wanted this, to hurt the Whitehats, as much as anything else in the world.
The demon was gone. Nothing but a memory. Tara had never done anything but love her and that had been what had destroyed that evil creature. Pure love. The act of love that had been Tara killing her. The one that brought her back… and then the fact that they’d found each other through the guilt and the internal darkness.
Fallen in love.
Become lovers.
There would always be a feeling of guilt, but no longer with even the tiniest fear that those days could return. The demon was never, ever coming back and that knowledge gave her the strength to let her be herself with Jenny and Faith. She, at least, could overcome the awkwardness. Now about Tara… Tara had a different problem entirely and that was really why she had come here. Why
her baby had to come here.
------------------------
When Tara returned from the bathroom she found Willow still rocking Faith, one solitary teardrop rolling down her cheek. Willow was unable to wipe it away as she seemed unwilling to risk holding Faith in just a one-armed embrace. That single tear ran from her chin and anointed Faith’s forehead. Tara watched it fall, and splash, as if in slow motion. Willow was happy, she could see that. Tara had been known to get sniffley through being happy herself and she was glad that Willow was okay. Better than she was anyway. The baby just gurgled right back at Willow and then burped. It broke the moment and Willow had to smile.
It was just… Tara didn’t feel that she had any right to be holding Faith. She’d done it just to help Willow and she’d appreciated the fact that Jenny had encouraged it, but Faith had more than one parent.
Jenny was sat beside Willow, not at all concerned for her daughter, just wiping the cheek of her former pupil with the sort of handily ready tissue all new mothers probably had. Just in case of the ick factor.
Willow wasn’t that anymore. Not a pupil. Not a killer. Not even, as Tara looked at her, a guilt-ridden young woman. Willow… between meeting her father and this, something had changed for Willow. Since they’d arrived here in Sunnydale some of that guilty Willow had been more evident again. Until now…
Perhaps being trusted with Faith was providing what she needed – a link to other people besides Tara. There was more to life than simple, perfect, overwhelming, joy-filled love. As Jenny stroked cheek with the tissue, Tara could hear Willow murmuring… “I’d forgotten… I’d forgotten…”
Tara came to her other side and looked at Jenny who didn’t seem too concerned, what did she know? “Forgotten what honey?”
“I’d forgotten… that there was so much else in the world outside the farm that was good… beside you.” Willow looked at Tara then and Tara could have fallen into those big eyes and if she never found her way out she wouldn’t have cared too much.
“But… there is,” Willow continued.” There’s life and there’s love. All good things, like forgiveness. I forgive myself because it wasn't my fault. It’s only my fault if I let it be.”
Jenny nodded in a way that suggested that she knew that too.
“All good things.” Tara confirmed to her.
And it was then that a key turned in the lock, the door opened and Mr Giles entered his own home, took in the scene, heard his wife say his name once “Rupert…” and then proved that all wasn't quite forgiven.
**********
-------------------------
If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in
Chance.------------------------