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Fic: - The Sidestep Chronicle & Second Chronicle

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Part 155

Postby Katharyn » Sun Feb 22, 2004 12:21 am

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - Discovery (Part 155)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary:
Disclaimer: I 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. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: See the thanks below for my disclaimer about marsupials.
Thanks To: All My Brilliant Beta Readers (AMBBR) Kerry (Forrister) who for some reason signed right back up for this fic after seeing the size of the last one. No accounting for madness is there. And Celia (TiredSoul) who should have known better but signed up anyway. *HUGS* and Big Thanks to all of you. This is one of Kerry’s. Would you believe how useful it is to have someone who knows the FACTS about koala’s on hand? If you are a writer and intend to mention those marsupials then make sure you have a knowledgeable (and preferably Aussie) beta reader on staff. That said, now Kerry has set me straight, Koala errors in the part below are those of the characters who, perfect as they are, do not have an Aussie on staff to set them straight (proverbially speaking.)


The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Discovery

By

Katharyn Rosser


Perhaps that parting comment to Miss Maclay, about her pendant, had been a mistake, given what he’d now surmised he needed to make his first task. A mistake which hadn’t been a mistake until he’d thought about the situation a little more than he’d been able to at the time. It was going to be a multi-step process to get all of his ducks in a row, and one of the first had to be to allow Darla, and what vampires she chose to bring with her, back into Sunnydale. The young woman he’d just met was nobody’s fool. Tara Maclay was definitely a clever woman as demonstrated by the fact she’d found him at all despite all the precautions he’d taken.

He hadn’t been testing her by hiding himself, she’d defeated some of the finest concealment rituals he’d been able to steal and learn for himself.

He knew that she’d certainly manage to put two and two together and come up with the right answer – even if she wouldn’t be able to prove it. Operating in the supernatural realms though, there was one overriding concern. It wasn’t whether anyone could prove anything against him – it was whether or not he got caught. Consequences here weren’t measured in time in prison, they were measured in terms of continuing to stay alive.

Or not.

Whilst he was still working on the ‘getting away’ part of his repertoire, he was vulnerable.

All he’d actually been wondering, he mused as he got ready to head down to the nearest pub for some of the typically very weak American beer, was what her reaction to a presence she couldn’t locate would be. He hadn’t been expecting her to find him, or if she had at least not so quickly. Such things as effectiveness were very telling in a person, and they would give him a handle on how she’d reacted to other things. On how methodical she was. How instinctive and above all how talented.

All in all it had turned out to be bad news. For the vampires at least.

She was clever and efficient. Methodical, inspired in her ideas, able to think on her feet and powerful with it. Something like a nightmare for the vampires, he was sure. In fact they’d spoken of her in such terms – without admitting it outright of course.

So what had be expected of her? First of all, for her to search mundanely, and then to turn to the magic to detect his presence. That, he’d been pretty certain, would have failed – as it obviously had done – and that should have been the end of it. All he’d actually wanted was to observe her ‘at work.’ Instead she’d actually managed to track him, trap himself and get him to reveal himself. It was easy to forget that, though she was still young, she was certainly a professional in this realm – as he was.

Like him she’d even earned money from it, for a time. Whereas now she seemed to be in the charity line, doing it for free. Probably from the goodness of her heart. Do-gooders, they always got in the way of the serious work – but then, in part, she was the serious work for him.

Still, the meeting hadn’t been a disaster. On the plus side he’d seen her at work and she might have staked him – or even worse done something magical to him. Just because Wolfram and Hart’s file on her suggested that she took a great deal of care to avoid hurting humans didn’t make it necessarily so. He’d seen files which had been… creatively edited for his consumption before. Besides the representatives at the law firm had also admitted that they hadn’t even really been watching her for about four years now. There had been an unfortunate tendency for things to keep happening to the watchers and… well, they really hadn’t been doing anything much apart from guarding Sunnydale anyway.

Four years, that would be approximately since the girl who had been a vampire had been returned to human form – though for a little while after… Wolfram and Hart had kept tabs on how that had gone, at least until their operatives started to turn up missing. The changing a vampire back to the same human she had been thing was something he couldn’t get any details on, and with his insatiable curiosity for all things powerful, was what he still wanted to know all about of course. It sounded like a ‘neat trick’ as these bloody yanks would have said. Everything here was ‘neat’ and ‘cool.’ Dartmoor in the middle of a winter night… that was his definition of ‘cool.’ Beer… best served ‘cool.’

It turned out all the lawyers had really done was to keep tabs on her address, her progress at University and the like. Mundane and largely useless things.

It was all very low-key compared to the reams of detail that had shown her prior activities, sometimes on an hour-by-hour basis. Wolfram and Hart seemed to have lost interest right about the time when she’d become a more stable and balanced person – when, in his most humble opinion, that was when they’d needed to step up their observation. Stable and balanced people were by far the most dangerous. They thought rather than reacted.

Somehow, and now he’d seen this with his own eyes, Tara Maclay had found a way to continue to use non-ritualised magic, in the long term, and still be ‘a good person.’ Ethan was well aware that magic was addictive. Fortunately he didn’t consider himself a ‘good’ person anyway and his magic, being overwhelmingly ritual based, wasn’t about to suck him into addiction, killer migraines and self-destruction. At least not just yet, not unless rules which had lasted for millennia were to change on him.

Her magic though... She didn't seem to be working by the rules of millennia and that was something which interested him greatly. She should have been a prime candidate for taking one trip too many into magic land and never being able to come home again. The reports he’d seen, though far from complete, even suggested that she’d feared it herself when the law firm had been watching for that sort of thing. She’d restrained herself, which was impressive enough, and ultimately she’d found a way past it. To say that he was curious how she had done that was a vast understatement. And the power she should, theoretically, be able to wield as a result… Unless the method itself limited her?

Talking to her had been instructive – once she’d figured out he was there and how to find him. Talking always shed light on people, it would have been his next step. That was why he was such a ‘people’ person and so eager to mingle with the people whose lives he was trying to affect. Ultimately it sometimes cost him, he was so wrapped up in their lives he couldn’t help hanging around just a little too long to see how his actions affected them.

But that was all part of being a ‘people person, ’ wasn't it.

Such people might have said, after the fact, that he had been trying to ruin their lives… but that wasn’t true except in a very simplistic way. They shouldn’t really take his intervention so personally – it was never personal when he did something that ended up hurting someone. It was either part of the jobs that funded his own activities or a devotion to blessed Chaos – and he’d hardly be chaotic if he was genuinely targeting specific people now would he? There had to be an element of chance.

Without chance, and chaotic destiny, it would imply caring who had gotten hurt by him. And that would make him some sort of psychopath, he’d be setting out to hurt someone with deliberate intention.

The truth was he really didn’t care – whether they got hurt or who it was if they did. Chaos really didn't care, it was part of what made it chaotic. That wasn't a mental condition, he’d have been another kind of psychopath in that case, it was a belief it was the definition of his existence. Not that he had a problem with mental illness, the differences between all people, was a part of the infinitely chaotic universe. If everyone was the same then where would he have been. It would have been extremely dull, even if everyone had been like him.

And as he thought of things that were ‘no fun,’ he was reminded of something else. The vampires were no fun at all – they saw him simply as ‘human’ and, if he was fortunate, perhaps ‘useful human.’ Darla was not one for talking to humans. The next step, with her, from even ‘useful human’ was ‘dinner.’

Drusilla on the other hand was happy to talk him, dead things, puppies and herself – but Ethan had the sneaky suspicion that perhaps she wasn’t quite as devoted to the ‘plan’ as Darla was, and that the lack of devotion would be characterised with him being eaten anyway. He was useful to Darla because she was following a plan, thus he could assume she would forbear from eating him for a time. Drusilla, who ‘liked’ him more, cared about the plan less.

Who was the bigger threat to him?

He really wasn’t sure.

Letting, and getting, them back into Sunnydale was a complication he would much rather have done without. He could achieve everyone’s aims better and quicker by keeping them away for a while longer, but then… Well, getting them back into the town was part of his contract and he had to admit that with Darla in her mood, the vampires should also distract some of the heat from himself.

After what he’d observed the distraction might well prove necessary, otherwise Miss Maclay wasn't going to look for long before she figured out that certain things that were certainly going to happen were down to him. Perhaps revealing himself at all had been a mistake, confirming there was someone else in Sunnydale – someone new – who could use magic. Who would her other suspects be?

But it came right back to the fact that he was a people person. He needed to see, speak to and have interesting conversations with the people he was going to be working with, for and against. Them and the attractive waitresses who might not mind a visit to his hotel room for a tumble.

Later for that, though hopefully not too much later. Darla and Drusilla would keep Miss Maclay occupied for at least a little while after their arrival – especially if she could no longer find them with that lovely little trinket of hers. It was plain what he had to do about that. The vampires should also then be free to stir up a little trouble and general chaos of their own. More chaos was never something he was opposed to, at least as long as it didn't interfere with what he’d been contracted to do here.

The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that the pendant was going to be the key to vampire survivability in Sunnydale, at least in the immediate period after their return. Meeting that young woman, rather than just watching her, had also proved to be instructive in that regard. The pendant, and especially the stone that was the active part of it, didn’t appear to have been newly created either. It bore the scars of being aged through use. Miss Maclay would probably be used to it, reliant on it and hampered by its loss.

He had to wonder why it had taken her years to find the nest of vampire underneath Sunnydale if she was reliant on that pendant. Darla hadn’t been taking people from the town – at least not in noticeable quantities – which was a tactic he had to applaud in terms of keeping herself hidden, but if Miss Maclay had that pendant and went out hunting them with it then how could she have missed them?

It was possible that the ground between the pendant and the vampires interfered with it’s powers… But given that the signalling method appeared to be pain… It seemed less likely. And if the ground blocked it… then surely so would buildings. It would be practically useless for hunting vampires which were, by necessity, very urban focused simply because they needed the available people.

Given that concrete and stone wasn’t likely to interfere with it, if it was to be of any use at all, which meant detecting over tens or hundreds of metres rather than a dozen or less then…

It seemed unlikely, but what else was there? For whatever reason it seemed that she must have stopped wearing that pendant or stopped patrolling… The former seemed the more likely, perhaps because of the pain? Was it too intense for her? No, he mused. If it had been crippling pain then she wouldn’t have been able to focus on using the magic which had ultimately destroyed the vampires. If the pain had interfered with that then it would have made the pendant worse than useless – it would have actually been dangerous to wear. It might hurt her but it wasn’t stopping her from doing magic which took focus and concentration…

There was certainly some reason though – which really didn’t matter to him he supposed. It would have been nice to know because it would have been another insight into her psyche.

He supposed that she thought she was on top of things now that Darla and Drusilla were out of town – all their hordes of vampires destroyed – and now she was being careful again. Pain was, perhaps, her self-imposed punishment for allowing it to build up into that state before.

Good for her. She should be careful, it wasn’t a good idea to ever stop being careful. It was a dangerous place, this town. And she was going to have to be even more careful once he took that pendant away from her. Her good habits now were going to help her later – and good luck to her then. She wouldn’t have that pendant to rely on – at least until she could make another one – but he wished her every success in fighting the vampires. Darla and Drusilla starting to feel that they didn’t have a need for him wouldn’t be in his best interests.

He’d have to be careful too, as he was associating with those same vampires… He wouldn’t want to be seen by Miss Maclay as guilty by association, especially being as he would most certainly be guilty. And during his other activities… The important ones, he didn't need them, Miss Maclay and her partner, interfering because they considered him to be in league with their enemies.

She’d seen him now and knew that he did magic. She even knew where he was staying in town. If he’d been concerned he could have moved, but he wasn't going to do so. He couldn’t really be bothered because if she wanted him – she’d find him anyway. That was what magic did, the great enabler. And besides there was rather an attractive lady on reception during the day shift that he liked the look of and, quite frankly, fancied his chances with too.

That lady liked a snappy dresser, she’d told him so as she had admired his shirt.

Snappy dresser or not, he knew he’d be first in line in Miss Maclay’s suspicions when things started to happen, which was hardly fair even if it was extremely correct. She didn’t even know him, how could she judge him? Even rightly.

People, in general, did seem to get the wrong impression about him… or perhaps the right one but for no good reason they could explain or prove. It was a shame that they couldn’t just trust him a little more – it would make some of the things he had to do that much easier and then they might not have so much of a problem with them. At least until they had good reason to find him guilty of what he’d done to them.

He didn't set out to hurt anybody – well not many people. But he was willing to accept some casualties. What was it the American’s insisted on calling it? Collateral damage. He supposed it was a very user friendly term for knocking seven kinds of stuffing out of people who shouldn’t have been in the firing line – usually their homes were the firing line.

It was chaos taking a hand of course.

Of course, working out the best way to unravel her ritual was going to be interesting. And instructive too. Unpicking the magic that formed the pendant’s power apart would teach him a lot about her – how her mind worked and perhaps even what books she’d learned her craft from. He had her pendant down as the result of study, though she might have been improvising when she created it… now that would be impressive at the age she had been then. It was attuned precisely to her.

She wasn't so old today, and if she’d been using the pendant since she’d started hunting vampire – seeking ‘justice’ as the file had said – which was a thinly veneered form of ‘revenge’ as most justice was – then she’d have to have been very, very talented at a very early age.

Even if she hadn’t been behind the creation of the pendant, in which case it had certainly been made for her, she was definitely very talented, and powerful, now.

He was betting she’d made the pendant though. Desperation was often the best inspiration. Possibly the father of invention, always assuming ‘necessity’ wasn’t messing around with invention.

How often had he personally placed people in desperate situations and seen them come through it in totally new and unexpected ways that they didn’t even know they had in them?

Well, not that often actually – but it did happen he was sure. It was the sort of thing you heard about. Miraculous escapes and the like. He’d have to make sure to avoid leaving such miracle loopholes. Loopholes were, in one sense vital, but in another they were sloppy work.

Miss Maclay’s magic though, miracle or no miracle, taking it apart there would still be tell-tale signatures which would be revealed to him. Ones that would point to her tradition, or the texts which had formed her earliest instruction. She might have grown beyond those things since then, but it would give him some indication on how best to handle her.

Aside from carefully, of course. Careful would have been middle name, if he’d had one.

The possibility that was hopefully going to make this first task a little easier was the one where she might not have chosen to ‘defend’ the ritual from magical manipulation. It wasn't certain that she’d ever have come across some capable and, more importantly, wishing to dismantle some of her ritual magic before. Ethan had gone for fifteen years before someone had tried it against him. It wasn’t an easy thing to do at the best of times, and if she’d never considered that possibility… Things would be easier that way.

Her personality seemed to be such that he was already quite certain she would have tightly constructed the pendant and the ritual that went with it… But on the other hand her file suggested she’d once been utterly obsessed with destroying vampires – which weren’t inherently magical at all. They were demons, certainly, but they were excluded from magic and thus no threat to the tool she had created. She’d never have thought that a human would wish to unravel a spell to detect vampires – when only a human could… Or at least only something that wasn’t a vampire could.

Aside even from that it should be, in theory, so much easier just to take a hammer to the stone itself. End of problem. Of course, that notion necessitated physically getting it away from her, which was hardly as subtle as sitting in a room miles from her and never actually touching the thing. Nor was it, apart from the simple violence of it all, as interesting to him. If he’d wanted to destroy things – apart from the fabric of order in the universe as a whole – he’d never have bothered with magic and would have bought a big hammer with him.

It wouldn’t teach him anything about her either, and he didn’t have a hammer.

Hopefully using his own methods, once he’d done what was necessary, she’d assume that the magic in the pendant’s construction had simply failed, or perhaps something else had intervened. Suspicion, again hopefully, wouldn’t fall his way – but then he always had been a big believer in the power of confession to avoid pain – if he did get into trouble – and the best thing about her was that he was sure she wouldn’t choose to cause him pain which was just one of the reasons why he found he liked her already.

Ripper, on the other hand, was another matter when it came to pain, but his old chum was a bridge he’d cross later.

--------------------------------

“So, you were chatting to strange men whilst you were out hunting tonight?” Willow asked teasingly as they watched the koalas on TV. Strange animals koalas – all cute and cuddly but… strangely slow until provoked. And when provoked their teeth and claws seemed capable of being anything but ‘cute.’ Not to mention the fact they were bound to reek in a way that was guaranteed to clear your nose out. One wonderful thing about watching TV with someone who was deaf – or at least just turning the closed captions on for yourself, which Willow had found herself doing automatically in the last month or so – was that it was just like watching a foreign film late at night.

Even if most foreign films didn’t involve koalas. It seemed European and artsy with the subtitles, and in this case also with eucalyptus eating bears.

More interestingly than making it seem foreign, artsy and better, was being able to both hear and read the words at the same time. Actually the interesting part of that was seeing how different those versions of the words often were – totally missing regional idiosyncrasies that made characters or real people who they were. Sometimes it was totally different. Sometimes the mouths moved for about thirty words and the subtitles came up with ‘Yes.’ There was something getting lost in the translation there, though it was the foreign films that were worse for that than the closed captions Toni replied upon to watch ordinary TV.

“I wasn’t ‘chatting’,” Tara insisted – her hands were as strident as her voice as she signed a more formal version of the same words for Toni. There was very little thought involved in doing that now.

Willow did the same thing, automatically again, but it was still amazing to watch Tara sign the words as she spoke. It wasn’t like Toni was necessarily interested, or even looking at every word they said – though in this case she was – but it was just a habit they’d fallen into. Practise was important, learning any new language. And they could assist in that learning process by correcting the words that were just plain wrong for each other. Sometimes humorously wrong. Sometimes it could be so funny that they forgot to get to the actual correction.

There were times Toni just got this look, they knew it now. It said ‘I really hope you have no idea what you’re saying.’ They didn’t often do it twice once they’d been told.

Toni was a very forgiving teacher though – and quite patient. She was a little like Tara in that respect. Tara was going to be a good teacher and if Toni wasn't a world champion athlete then maybe she could find something in a similar line. She had the knack for it, or at least she would if she could stop laughing with her students. Or she could be anything else she wanted… Jenny was impressed by her attitude and there was a solid enough base of knowledge there too. Toni probably knew more than she thought she did, she was always running down her scholastic abilities. If she’d just work a little harder… but then Toni was probably going to get a college athletics scholarship.

She was supposed to be more than good enough for that, but maybe she wouldn’t have to rely on that if she pushed herself more in her studies. Next year, when she enrolled at the High School officially, always assuming she was still here, then they’d be able to look at that. Toni probably didn’t realise that, at least with Jenny, she was already looking at stuff that was beyond the curriculum of people her age.

Toni didn’t want to be a geek, but if they kept educating her beyond her expectations like this they might be able to sneak it up on her.

But now was the time to take Tara to task for doing a no-no. At least it would have been a no-no if she'd been a decade younger. Goddess, were they really thinking in terms of being a decade younger now?

Yes, they really were.

Eeek! When had that happened? Probably when they’d take in a girl a decade younger than Tara. But then Tara was the old one around here. Through a freak of mystical insignificance Willow had a few extra years of youth on her side. That made her feel better.

“Sweetie, you were in the street talking to someone you didn’t know,” Willow said with a smile on her lips. She wasn't really worried. Tara could more than take care of herself… Or anything that even deliberated about threatening her. It was just that they didn’t meet many people – not to talk to – when they were out hunting vampires. Especially like Tara had tonight, hardly a random meeting. The streets were usually pretty empty once the bars closed, though busier than they once had been. There had been a time when Willow remembered finding anyone to eat.

An involuntary shudder ran through her.

*Don’t talk to strangers,* Toni quoted with a gently mocking smile on her own face.

It wasn't something Willow recalled saying to her in the past, but she knew they’d trotted out a lot of the things parents always said to kids – just to be sure Toni knew them…

Little realising Toni had more common sense and street-smarts than either of the two of them had at her age. Maybe they, and especially Tara, deserved a little gentle mocking now after that. It was okay. They all knew they’d been doing it for the right reasons. Tara could take it and Toni knew that too.

“I didn’t talk to a stranger,” Tara said then looked at them both. “Well, okay I did – but I wasn’t chatting to him. ‘Chatting’ isn’t what we were doing. Not at all.”

“But, you noticed his shirt,” Willow told her. This was kind of fun – teasing her baby – and it seemed that she had a willing ally in Toni. Again. She was sure that the young woman would join with Tara in teasing her, when the time came, and in fact it already had… Toni had teased her and Tara. And they’d teased Toni. Everyone was teasing each other now, though some of the teasing she and Tara reserved for each other alone. A different kind of teasing, and she didn’t mean driving Miss Kitty wild with pieces of string either.

Miss Kitty looked disgusted with herself every time she fell for that. Instinctual desire to play overcame feline pride.

The more general, humorous teasing, between the human residents was all like a part of the gentle discovery process. The part that came after ‘getting to know you’ where you figured out what another person’s limits were – and just how far you could go beyond them and still be found funny, or reasonable… or at least be tolerated.

It was natural – it was how people got along. And Toni, despite all that had happened to her and was still happening in some ways, had what Willow thought of as a fun loving nature. It was probably harder to get to it than it had been once, but once you got past the determination, the genuine tragedy, the pride and the communications difficulties she was a funny kid – and more adult than any fourteen year old had a right to be. In that regard she reminded Willow of what Tara must have been like once.

Figuring each other out had been the biggest hurdle. When they’d reached the point that they really knew each other, then they had been able to start to try and put that ‘issue’ stuff aside. Since then they’d been getting on pretty damn well, thank you very much.

“I just noticed his shirt was a particularly bad one – and you’ll recall I noticed he was invisible first,” Tara pointed out.

There was that. “And English,” Willow went on, still surprised how well Toni was doing in accepting a world in which there could be invisible people. From her reaction she was better with invisible than she was with more English people.

“No, let’s not be forgetting invisible.” Tara did what Jenny had described as a ‘passable imitation’ of Willow herself. Just to tease her back. Willow couldn’t see it was very good, but then she knew that everyone heard and saw themselves differently to how the rest of the world observed them. And everyone laughed when Tara did that, so it had to be pretty good. Toni had even started to impersonate her in sign, not as many people laughed at that – they were all a bit hesitant sometimes.

No doubt it would be funnier as they all picked up the nuances to signing… Willow wasn’t even sure what nuances she was putting into her signing. Sometimes Toni would smile as she watched a perfectly serious, and grammatically correct, sentence form before her… It was unnerving when it happened.

And thinking of all things for the hearing impaired… The other good thing about closed captions were that you could talk over them, vocally, without missing anything at all. That was cool – but then they were still paying attention to make sure that they caught everything Toni might say, so when the girl was there, they gained less than they might have. But between the sound and the vision, they were still getting the narration about the koalas.

“Okay ‘noticing girl’, Willow thought it was a shame that she couldn’t make the signs she knew have the same meanings as the tone of her words yet – but as Toni smiled she guessed she might be getting somewhere with that. “How,” she went on, “did you notice him if he was invisible?” Aha. This should be interesting…

Tara seemed to realise she was making a mistake even before the next words left her mouth. “I felt his presence.” She said it slowly and was waiting for the next thing from Willow’s fingers.

“Sweetie, you leave his presence alone,” Willow said. She could hardly keep from laughing out loud now. “Besides you sound like something out of Star Wars.” Magic… There was just no way to dissociate it from the biggest pop culture referencing phenomenon of the their life times.

*Use the force Luke,* Toni added with a huge grin on her own face. *I guess L-e-i-a in a metal bikini was a big turn on for you guys, huh?*

Willow, like Tara, only got the word bikini at the second time of asking. And once they got it they looked at each other, incredulous that Toni was, after just about two months, as familiar with their boundaries as she appeared to be – and willing to push them accordingly.

That would teach them to tease. Or so Toni would be thinking.

“You’re getting cheeky,” Tara said to her, trying to inject a little sternness into her signing.

“And, more importantly, we’re not so old as to remember that first time round… at least not in a way we ‘liked,’” Tara replied. “Right?”

Willow nodded. She’d been how old in 1984? Not old enough for that… Though watching it with Xander a few years later… Oh yeah, she could take Toni’s point then. Even if she hadn’t realised at the time what those points might have meant.

*I just think I know you by now,* Toni replied. *Both of you.* There was something about how she signed the word ‘know.’

“Toni, you do realise that we have to see the caseworker tomorrow,” Willow let the sign hang in the air. That was her attempt at a light-hearted threat. Whether it worked in sign was for Toni to judge. Not many people took a lot of notice of her ‘threats’ – probably because she wasn't that great at them. No one ever believed her. Perhaps she was just too nice to be threatening. Once there had been a time...

*And I’m not allowed to be cheeky?* Toni asked. *Is that in the handbook or something?*

“They still haven’t delivered the handbook that goes with you,” Tara said absolutely deadpan. Toni just looked at her then stuck the tip of her tongue out, which Tara matched – but with a little flickering motion Willow recognised.

Toni actually blushed and pulled her own tongue back into her mouth. Score one for the witchy gals. Toni thought she knew them? She hadn’t known Tara would respond that way, then again neither had Willow.

“You have to be respectful of your elders,” Willow said, wondering how that squared with Tara’s little stunt. She was also trying not think about just what she’d done to her elders when she hadn’t been herself. Vice-Principal Snyder. Her Mom. Lots and lots of others – nearly all of them older than she had been. The one good thing about Sunnydale back then had been that no one let their kids out on the street. Not whilst she’d been there. She was going to be all back–in–the-now-Willow now though, thinking of her girlfriend’s tongue stunt.

Hmm, she might have to ask for a repeat of that later on.

*You’re not my elders,* Toni told them.

“And yet I feel older than she is,” Tara said to her. “Not much, but some.” The ‘not much’ was the important part.

Willow nodded and they turned back to Toni, wondering what it was she meant. Was she trying to flatter them? They really weren’t old enough to start worrying about their ages, even though Toni’s presence had made the issue more immediate.

*You’re not old* Toni said again. *At least not compared to the people you hang out with. You’re not even twenty-five yet right?*

“We’re not old,” Willow said to her love, stressing the point and not wanting to get into the true details about her age.

“So Rupert’s obviously old,” Tara acknowledged. “But who’s going to tell Jenny that she’s old too?” she asked looked back to Toni. “She might not have realised yet. I know I hadn’t.”

Ah love, you might have her there, Willow thought as she watched Toni’s reaction. “We’re not old,” Willow said yet again. “I think I like Toni better already. She thinks were young…”

*You’re more middle aged than old,* the young woman completed.

Middle aged?

And that was just it. A prime reason for not having kids if there ever was one – gay or straight – kids made you instantly old. Or at least older than they were. It was the only reason she could think of though at that moment – and not a great one at that. There was a basic truth at work here; they were older than Toni.

But not much older. That was important. The lack of a ‘much’ was critical. If they had been her parents, aside from the slightly strange chromosone thing happening, they’d also have been waaaay underage. But….

“Middle aged?” they both asked together, fingers and lips in perfect harmony in a way that Toni could watch. Toni, as usual when she had nothing to say, just had an expression on her face.

Toni was good at having expressions – she had one of the most expressive faces, other than Tara of course, that Willow had ever come across. Not ‘come across’ like she might… with Tara having interesting expressions of the intimate variety. No, she needed to stop that way of thinking – babble in her head wasn't good. Words she could get trapped into. In her head she needed to be clearer than that.

On Toni’s face was an expression that was amused, innocent, devilish and still – because it never quite went away – pained and hurt. One day, Willow was sure, those last attributes would fade. She knew they had for Tara… and she supposed Tara might say the same of her. They’d never, any of them, forget what had happened to them. But Toni would learn to move on past it and have moments where it wasn't actually there… One day. She was making good progress – not wallowing except when someone pricked her memory… and she had a perfect right to wallow even if they did.

Willow had wallowed.

Even Tara had wallowed in her time.

And if Toni needed to wallow then that was just fine too. Perhaps, really, they were the best people in the world for Toni to be with right now. No matter how wonderful anyone else, bar the girl’s father, could be… No one would really understand it all like they did. Not like she and Tara. And that was why Willow was really glad that they had been allowed to do this with Rupert and Jenny. That they had been considered responsible and caring enough for this very important task.

More important than the courts and social services had known.

It wasn’t just a question of looking after Toni’s housing, food and education – though those were, obviously, very important. Or even about her happiness – which was paramount – but in there had to be understanding too. And okay, she and Tara, as well as Jenny and her husband, weren’t deaf – but they understood things about the world, and the loss, that anyone else probably never would have been able to without a tragedy in their own lives. A tragedy of this kind. They understood the full truth of what had happened to this girl and they knew just what it took to get your life to a place that was beyond that.

And getting beyond meant working through, so if Toni was accepting a world where people could be invisible, then that was a step in the right direction. A world in which she and Tara were middle aged though – now that was freaky and wrong.

At least it was now. Give it twenty years and she might accept it.

“So what did you think of this guy?” Willow asked after they’d considered being regarded as middle aged for long enough. If Toni was young and Rupert was old, there was a kind of logic behind the scale. Perhaps if they redefined Rupert to middle aged and Toni to kid? But back to what Tara had said. Invisible guys didn't chat to you for no reason, or talk, there had to be something behind it all.

Tara just hated to be judgemental so sometimes she didn’t volunteer an opinion as hastily as Willow herself might.

“I think… I hate to say it because I don’t really know anything about him but-”

*You have a feeling,* Toni’s fingers flashed just as Willow was saying the words.

Toni was getting to know them way too well. Were they parodies of themselves or something? Predictable? Were they really… old? Sorry, middle aged and set in their ways.

Tara nodded, confirming the existence of that feeling. “I think he’s probably trouble. For us, the town. Everyone maybe. I don’t know.” She lay back along the couch and rested her head on Willow’s knee… still able to see both the TV and Toni from there.

It was strange how Tara could do that. She could announce ‘trouble’ and then just relax. It never ceased to amaze Willow. If she’d been the one who’d met this guy, and had a feeling about trouble she’d have been running around trying to find things out – probably futilely – or to make plans. She was the action girl, after all. But over the years, or so Willow’s theory went, Tara had seen so much ‘trouble’ that she’d conditioned herself to face it when it came – or when she decided to do something about it – rather than worry herself overly much about it beforehand.

This guy hadn’t actually done anything so far, and he appeared to have been human too. Human, so they couldn’t just stake him, or run him out of town for no reason. They couldn’t do anything now, so they could worry about him later, or so Tara’s theory would go. When he had done something.

That was Tara’s theory at least but there was a problem with it. Tara usually found herself worried about bigger issues than the immediate problems. At least as far as Willow could see. She could put what seemed important – but really wasn't – aside and that just opened up room for the big, life changing, really important stuff.

‘Big Trouble’ would worry Tara – of course it would. But this guy wasn't ‘Big Trouble’ yet. He was just trouble. But not ‘A Bit of Trouble’ either. He was enough trouble to make Tara have a feeling. More than a bit and less than a lot. And that might be why Tara was having trouble determining how bad that might be.

“He wasn't nasty or anything,” Tara reassured them, “there was just this… vibe I got from him. A trouble vibe.”

Both of them looked at Toni, waiting for her to translate ‘vibe’ from spelling into an actual sign, but she had nothing to offer but a shrug. There wasn’t always a sign, or at least not one which came to Toni’s mind. There was ‘vibration’ of course but that seemed a bit excessive and a good deal less slangy than it needed to be.

“I think we’ll need to watch out for him,” Tara announced.

And that was the way it would be. Tara knew when things had to be done to keep people safe, to keep them safe, she wasn’t going to let this English guy with the bad shirt endanger them – or anyone else – not if she could help it. Nor could they actually do anything yet. Tara was right about that. While they certainly might be the executioner of the weird stuff in Sunnydale, they definitely weren’t judge and jury. Not when it came to humans. The actions of this guy would lead to his judgement.

He hadn’t done anything yet… not really. Even if Willow didn't like him following Tara like he had done.

“We never had to face a real person who could use magic before,” Willow said. “At least I never had to. Did you?” In part she was explaining to Toni that this was something new to them, but she added the question when she realised she had no idea whether it had been part of Tara’s past before coming to Sunnydale.

Tara nodded, which surprised Willow. Her girlfriend had never said. “Once or twice. It’s more common than you’d think. Magic can… Well, it can suck people down into a deep dark hole unless you’re really careful,” Tara signed – clearly for Toni’s benefit again. Willow already knew that. “And once they’re there in the hole they can’t get out of it. It’s never pretty when it happens. Sometimes they try to pull you into that hole with them, or lash out.”

Willow looked at her expression… It was a little disturbed.

“There was a witch here in Sunnydale,” Willow had a sudden recollection of Tara telling her that once up on a time, when she’d been illustrating why they couldn’t be as free with the magic as perhaps they might seemed to have been able to – at least not the old magic. The dark magic. What they did now was safer and this guy’s interest in that ‘safer’ magic was… worrying.

Magic as they practiced it now might be safer for them but they trusted themselves – and each other. If he figured something out about… Something maybe they didn’t know or know how to counteract…

Willow was pretty sure that their kind of magic wasn’t going to be available to him – it really wasn't even theirs. They were gifted it – and it was a gift that felt like it could be withdrawn at any moment if they abused it. And it only came to them, like this, because they were in balance with each other. Perfectly in balance. Natural, together… in love.

That was what she thought anyway.

But she knew that Tara wouldn’t take a chance on him getting his ‘hands’ on it – if that was even possible. Magic with fewer of the restrictions? That would be dangerous with anyone who was likely to be ‘trouble.’

Tara wasn’t even entirely happy with the fact that such ‘easy’ magic was ‘available’ to them – apart from the good that they could do with that – but in the hands of someone else? And someone she suspected might be… trouble. That wouldn’t be something they’d allow to happen, even if they’d known how to let him have access to it. Or if it was even possible. If he wanted to know the source of the magic… Well, let him try to find out some other way. Let him find out that he wouldn’t be able to do anything with it. They wouldn’t make it easy and Willow was sure he’d be frustrated even if he did find out.

It wasn't something anyone could take or make his own. It was… a product of their union. She and Tara’s love, their balanced partnership, was the catalyst.

She pulled herself back from her musing as she saw Tara was about to continue.

“She was called Amy,” Tara told her. “She was…” She paused, thinking what best to say and Willow saw her eyes flicker towards Toni. But then, they’d already gone into the way the world was in front of this girl – she knew more than most people ever would about monsters and magic. It was the unavoidable consequence of her experiences and of living with them.

And then Willow remembered why Tara might be worried about telling this story – or perhaps another one that was connected with it – in Toni’s presence. It was of those things about their past they didn’t like to mention because it would open the door to questions. More importantly, if the answers were revealed in the wrong way, then perhaps it could lead to requests and things that just couldn’t be allowed to happen.

The fact they wouldn’t be allowed to, or be able to, happen was one thing – but more than that they shouldn’t really be contemplated by a grieving young girl. It would just hurt her more, and spoil everything they’d achieved so far.

That way led to badness and sadness. Or could do. Tara was right to worry about that sort of thing. Tara, in general, was more often than not, right when it came to judging Toni, which made it a shame there was still that lingering awkwardness between them. Her instincts were so often dead on. What she said here would be the right thing, but… she seemed to be struggling for the words on this subject.

“Possessed by her Mom,” Willow finished for Tara. That was the simplest thing to say and addressed everything they needed to actually bring up right now. It wasn’t, in Toni’s presence, a good idea to try and find her way around, ‘the one who brought you, the vampire you, back on behalf of a law firm that later brought the real you back. Oh, did we mention its possible to bring a destroyed vampire back as a person?’

Oh no.

None of that in front of Toni. Places that none of them needed to go, because it couldn’t be done again. They had nothing to offer, for all that would matter to Toni.

“She’s gone now….” Tara added with a grateful rub of Willow’s calf for providing the best term to use. “But I had to fight her, to find out about why… Well, to get her free of her Mom,” Tara told them. Willow didn’t miss the fact that Tara had almost slipped, but she’d caught herself and Toni would just think it was part of the hesitancy. “Amy’s Mom was… She’d taken over Amy’s body. Her Mom was the one who was bad, Amy wasn’t, at least not then. Later, she was just kind of carried away with the magic after her Mom had been…”

“Removed?” Willow suggested. Her baby was struggling with this story, for reasons Willow should have put together faster. This wasn’t a great topic for right now as she’d already concluded. But there was no way to tell the story without revealing some of it, or sounding hesitant. Tara had wisely opted for the latter.

Tara nodded at her suggestion.

*Did you kill her?* Toni asked.

Willow looked at their guest. There wasn’t a smile, or any other expression on her face – other than the sense that maybe she expected the answer could be ‘yes.’ Was that what Toni thought of Tara? That she killed people? After all they’d done for her?

Perhaps on the evidence that wasn’t all that surprising, if you regarded vampires as people – which they didn’t, but Toni had a good reason to still do. The things Toni had seen Tara do, in the supernatural realm, might have pointed her that way. But she would have seen Willow do exactly the same thing if their positions had been reversed. Willow could and would have done the same things, including to Toni’s dad, if she’d been the one who needed to do it? Hell yeah. Would Toni have been looking at her and wondering if killing people was her solution now?

Probably, yes.

Besides… Willow, more than most, knew that Toni’s Dad hadn’t been a person at that point. Toni didn’t know that though – not in the same way that she and Tara did. She’d been told it, she’d said that she understood it – but she didn't really get it. No matter what he’d been doing – threatening to hurt her. To hurt a child too. It wouldn’t matter in the rationalising part of Toni’s head. Maybe it wouldn’t have until he’d killed her and then it would have been too late to think.

Maybe Toni had her reasons, but thinking it and saying it were two very different things.

There was no reason to ask Tara that. Willow didn’t have to look down at the woman she loved to know that she’d be hurt by the implication – she might even try to hide it – but Willow knew it was there all the same. Toni shouldn’t have done that.

*Do you think Tara would kill someone?* Willow signed forcefully without saying the words. Just in sign. Just for Toni. Tara, laying across her knee couldn’t see anything but Toni and the TV. All she would be able to do was feel Willow’s fingers catching her hair as she did so.

Toni, true to form, wasn’t phased by the force Willow used. But she didn’t hesitate to answer either. *No.* And there, perhaps, was the truth. Toni asked, but she didn't believe it. So why ask at all?

Perhaps there were doubts there. Perhaps she couldn’t get the idea out of her head, even if she really knew it wasn't true.

Willow waited a beat, to see if the girl would apologise to Tara. But she didn’t. Some things, clearly, Toni felt she didn't need to apologise for. Like asking Tara questions like that. “Good,” Willow said to Toni. No apology, but she didn’t think that of Tara – which Willow would tell her lover, later. “I think, in the end, Harmony ate her,” she said to them both then.

*Everyone dies around here* Toni signed.

Willow paused. It was true, to a point, but they’d made things better. Toni knew that.

“Whatever happened to Harmony?” Tara asked Willow.

Willow thought about that. Tara hadn’t really known the girl as anything except a vampire – a not very successful vampire, which was why she’d found a certain amount of fame. It wasn't even that she was a survivor – she had just bumbled her way from kill to kill and never bumbled her way into Tara’s way. Willow remembered her though, both before and after she was turned.

Harmony hadn’t been a member of the Order – she’d been one of those that the Master would have had killed on sight. Maybe someone in the Order had caught up to her. Maybe it had been that Slayer Tara had known at the time. Tara only knew who Harmony was from the stories that Willow had told her anyway, and the almost mythic ineptitude of the girl turned demon. It was tough to remember the vicious girl she had been when Willow had known her, she might actually have mellowed as a vampire.

Harmony had definitely possessed more potential as a teen bitch than as a vampire.

Harmony was ancient history though – Amy and more importantly her Mom’s possession of her were the point of the here and how. Tara had been forced to act to stop ‘Amy.’ And that was an example of Tara defeating someone who was also using magic, which was the whole point. Willow knew that it hadn’t been pleasant for her, which would be why Tara hadn’t told her much about it. Magic wasn't a product of the physical body. It was a part of the mind and the soul - just like love – and to fight it you had to get into the mind. Into the soul…

It was realising about that, which helped Willow understand.

A fear of getting inside someone like that was the main reason why Tara clearly wasn’t looking forward to this at all and probably why they’d lapsed into silence as they had. Also it allowed Toni to get off the hook for asking her question. Silence suited everyone at the moment. They were just watching koalas doing what koalas did. They were experts at being koalas. She’d never seen anything more koala-like than koalas. They didn’t really speak, or sign, about much at all until they’d wished Toni a good night and headed to bed themselves.

It was an unspoken agreement to drop it, and Toni’s question about killing Amy had really been what had stopped the conversation. Willow had to allow for the fact that Toni might not want to talk about it. Perhaps she had deliberately sabotaged the conversation? Perhaps it had been subconscious.

Perhaps Toni had just wanted to know. Maybe even to reassure herself that what she had come to know about Tara hadn’t been tainted by ‘another’ death.

“I just hope he’s not a bad guy – like a big bad,” Tara said finally when they were alone.

“Me too baby,” Willow agreed. They could really do without that, there was enough to do in hunting vampires, rogue demons and passing upcoming exams without this too. One good thing though – he was human and not some blood sucking fiend. If he was bad in any way then it wasn't likely to be for anything other than the human motives. It would be for the power, the money or something like that. Something that was easily understandable and therefore combatable. They might even be able to persuade him of the error of his ways without fighting him. Humans had the ability to reason, though some less than others..

At least she hoped that might be possible. She didn't want them to have to do anything… permanent to a human.

Willow lay down on the bed, still fully dressed, resting her head on her hand and watched Tara starting to get undressed. Something she liked to do when she could. It didn’t take much of that to take her thoughts from ‘maybe’ bad guys with bad shirts to a ‘definitely’ very lovely girl who she loved more than the world itself. “So,” she said as Tara’s sweater came over her head, “Princess Leia? In the metal bikini? Did that do anything for you?”

Tara paused, the sweater covering her face, seeming to think in that slightly comical pose. “Well, on balance I have to vote, yay,” she said finally. “But not at the time.”

Willow nodded even though Tara couldn’t see her.

“I mean, I was a little young the first time I saw that film to really… appreciate her… not knowing the full gayness that was me at the time,” Tara explained and, dropping the sweater over the edge of the dresser, came over to Willow.

“The ‘full gayness that is you?’” Willow asked her, suddenly intrigued. It sounded interesting…

“You know, the part of me that sees you, reclining on the bed like a queen, watching me undress,” Tara said. “That ‘full gayness that is me.’

“Or possibly a princess,” Willow countered. Princess sounded younger, and though she was younger than Tara she didn't want either of them to fall into Toni’s erroneous definition of middle-aged. They were so not middle aged.

“Or a princess,” Tara conceded, “and anyway, part of me just melts when I see that. I mean, okay,” Tara went on as she stroked Willow’s hair and Willow lightly kissed her lovers stomach, “that’s not the ‘full’ extent of the gayness that is me but it’s a start. Anyway… what about you?”

“Me?” Willow asked, a little confused as to just where Tara was going… Seriously light-hearted talks about their sexuality, snuggling and kissing, full on ‘take me woman’ loving or… All of the above?

“You and Princess Leia?” Tara prompted with a smile.

“Back then, I was even younger than you. I didn’t even see that until I was about ten… and right then I was still pretty sure that I was going to marry Xander. Or possibly Ken.” It had been the plan she’d had on and off. And not in a romantic way – she’d been a little young for that – but it had seemed… Well, they’d been friends for like ever and she’d just thought that friends got married. That was how it happened to a ten year old. “But if you wanted to rent it I could certainly stand another look.”

“It seems to me you’re getting a look at what you want right now,” Tara told her as Willow looked right into her eyes.

“Didn’t need the force for that, huh?”

“No, I can see right through your smouldering looks sweetie,” Tara assured her.

So Tara thought she could see right through her huh? “You won’t need me to get undressed then?”

“Well, I didn’t say that, did I?”

*************************




-------------------------


If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in Chance.


------------------------
Katharyn
23. Volumey Text
 
Posts: 3794
Topics: 5
Joined: Sun Apr 24, 2005 1:23 pm


Re: Thanks for the feedback...

Postby xita » Sun Feb 22, 2004 2:38 pm

Well look at Ethan he's not as perceptive as he thinks he is. He thought Tara thought he was stylish :rofl How funny! Tara has way better instincts so I am putting my money on her! And you know I must be really gay cause when you write that stuff at the bottom, part of me just melts. Thanks for the update :)

- - - - - - - - - - -
"Hard work often pays off after time but laziness always pays off now!"


xita
 


Re: Part 154

Postby DarkRed » Sun Feb 22, 2004 7:57 pm

Omg this is great!! :drool



*rushing on to read the next part-112*



i'll be back!



oi oi this part was too short!! *already starting part 113*



Ok, that was a bit longer and i have to go to bed now, so no more for me *sniff* hehehe:p

so, wow.. *breathing hard, or maybe it's just a sigh? hmmm..* that was just great!! very thrilling updates, strong -- and i can't believe Spike is DEAD!!:shock if this was some TV show, that would never have happened and that is what i love best about fics.. they don't bend to any rules or public opinions! i can't think of anyone else emmm.. lets say brave, enough to do that.. lovely! :bow



i have to say i do read your replys, so no words about future events!! even thu the 'timecapsule' id was hilarious *searching for those flying cars someone told me about*.



oh btw my baby bean says -that u need to back off from her gf -which is me- or she'll be pissed. i think i might be talking too much about how great your story is and what an amazing writer u are.. hihi upss. i try telling her that it's only business, but when u thank me for amusing u, ehm.. she tends to take it in bad ways *shrugs* silly no? HAHAHAHAHAHA :laugh



love,

:kitty anat.

DarkRed
 


Re: Part 154

Postby reyjawk » Sun Feb 22, 2004 8:47 pm

Awesome!!! I loved Princess Leia in her bikini!!!



Great update...



Toni

"Every time that I look at myself, I can't believe how awesome I am!!!!" - Strongbad

reyjawk
 


Re: Fic: - The Sidestep Chronicle & Second Chronicle

Postby heraldgal » Wed Feb 25, 2004 9:59 pm

Did I say I did not like Ethan? I do not :) You write him good though to make me not like him and I like that. It must be sort of worrisome that there is another magic maker in Sunnydale, I hope they worry so they can do something about it.



Thank you for the update.



Cathy.

heraldgal
 


Re: Fic: - The Sidestep Chronicle & Second Chronicle

Postby Katharyn » Sat Feb 28, 2004 2:55 am

Damn, I thought I had replied already - then I remembered that was just a dream. Sorry everyone.



Xita

Its not just Ethan, we all think that other people think we are stylish, pretty etc - or just the opposite is the case. He isn't.



You can put your money on Tara because she is Tara too. I mean, hey, its the Kitten - its the girls!



And I always love to melt you.



Thanks



Darkred - You are definitely a time capsule for me too! You open a door to the past! Glad you liked those parts back then, you have a way to go yet though!



Spike is dead.



Dead

Dead

Dead.



And he ain't EVER coming back. That's not a spoiler, just a natural law in my fic.



Thanks so much, I like looking back to that stuff.



Rewjawk

Did anyone not love that bikini?



Thanks



Cathy



You are not supposed to like the villains, though the Mayor was a special case - as is Dru *S*.



Another magic user in Sunnydale is something interesting I wanted to play with. Something tougher to deal with than just staking it. Lets see where it leads.



Thanks



Update either later today or tomorrow morning. For those in other timezones you might not even notice a day passing.



Katharyn



-------------------------




If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in Chance.




------------------------

Katharyn
 


Part 156

Postby Katharyn » Sun Feb 29, 2004 3:05 am

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - Starting Points (Part 156)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Just what is Ethan going to do?
Disclaimer: I 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. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: I don’t hink I have anything to say ‘cept I love my beta readers.
Thanks To: All My Brilliant Beta Readers (AMBBR) Kerry (Forrister) who for some reason signed right back up for this fic after seeing the size of the last one. No accounting for madness is there. And Celia (TiredSoul) who should have known better but signed up anyway. *HUGS* and Big Thanks to all of you. This one is Celia’s and she likes it when I sneak the in-jokes in. I wonder how many others will get them. (In other words if you do not find things funny that other people do its me rather than you!)

The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Starting Points

By

Katharyn Rosser


Things had, for a little while now, been very dull.

Time was passing and very little was happening – but what could he do? If he’d set out to amuse himself then the Witches would have surmised it was him without even having bothered to look into it.

And they would have been right. Since meeting Miss Maclay his profile had been too high with them to make his presence felt again. He’d needed to slow down and allow them to forget about him – or fell he wasn’t a threat. He’d given it a week. More than enough.

A week of ultimate dullness.

This whole project was, to be fair to himself, going to be a long and involved process, which he still wasn't sure he was going to be able to explain away to the vampires. At least once they were able to come back into Sunnydale. And that was why he’d made no large efforts to expedite the dismantling of Miss Maclay’s pendant – in addition to his desire not to be staked as the person who’d done it. The fact she would still be able to locate any vampires that came to town , and that magic wasn’t as immediate as snapping someone’s fingers for them, gave him the chance to legitimately state that nothing had changed as yet. It wasn’t safe enough for Darla and Drusilla to come back here and that gave him some time to work with.

And time for the Witches to feel less threatened by his presence. They hadn’t seen anything of him so they might even think he’d gone. He needed time and space to work right now. What he didn’t need was neither demanding vampires, nor being connected to them by Miss Maclay and her partner. Both of which would have been unfortunate so early in the game.

His game.

It might be that his usual activities would be enough to serve to distract the vampires from what else he was doing in town, even when they were here. They wouldn’t have any objections to him causing some trouble, so long as it distracted the Witches from what they were doing. The aim would be for everyone to be distracted from what he was doing. He was walking, or about to set off on after his self-imposed delay, a number of tightropes all at the same time.

Unfortunately none of them were woven together to be thick enough to cross under the influence of a good few drinks which was what he felt like doing.

There was the ‘immediately fatal vampire tightrope’, the ‘long-term, bad news law firm tightrope’ and a ‘definite desire not to attract too much attention from the Witches tightrope.’ He had to distract them all from what he was doing to, and for, the others – at the same time as carrying his own agenda forward. Now that would be quite a trick, perhaps one of his greatest. He was always up for besting himself. After all, what kind of Englishman would he be if he weren’t trying to improve himself?

This part was likely to be the most critical, longest and strangely the simplest part of the greater trick. There was no reason in the world it would attract attention once it was underway. At least not until it came to fruition. As such it could simply proceed – often without his attention between widely interspersed, but necessary, rituals – which ought to give him time for all the rest of the tasks he had to perform whilst in Sunnydale. This was, after all, what the lawyers at Wolfram and Hart were paying him for. The most important part of the package to them and, as they said, ‘the customer was always right.’

Alledgedly.

The lawyers were paying him for this and it was what the vampires would kill him for if they were to find out about it.

The reaction of the witches was less certain – and personally he really didn’t give a hoot what they thought so long as they thought it away from him. Nor, ultimately, did he much care about any of the tasks he was being asked to perform. This was a job that was going to pay very well – the first instalment already had. That was all that mattered. Aside from the pay, the only value this carried for him was in terms of actually wanting to prove that he could do this. To himself, which was always the important thing – to stretch his abilities and further the cause of the chaotic lord. It wasn't something, this afternoon’s work, he’d ever had occasion to try before now. Frankly no one had meant enough to him for him to consider it. The money the lawyers were offering for a successful completion – in tandem with not disappointing Darla – meant rather more to him than the being involved as the target of the ritual.

It wasn't every day that this was even attempted, it wasn’t even every century that that this was attempted, and if it worked then the sense of achievement might be even greater than the reward itself.

No, not really. The reward was everything to men like him. There was no shame in that, especially if the reward was great enough.

Rare this might be but he was still working well within himself and his capabilities. He fancied that Miss Maclay and her friend would be rather more of a ‘challenge’ than this ritual – had he actually wanted a challenge in his life. Over several years of experience he’d more than learned that a challenge was generally a bad thing when there were consequences involved. The easy path was called ‘easy’ for a reason.

And magical consequences were always something to be wary of. Vampires sure, they’d bite. It might, it might kill him – but magical consequences could be far more unfortunate. The Witches were the bigger danger to him.

He’d been here in Sunnydale a few weeks now and aside from meeting, and observing, Miss Maclay that night it really had been rather boring. Preparing the ground, securing the location he’d needed for this ritual, had taken longer than he’d have liked, but if he didn’t make a start soon then he was going to start receiving memos and that was never, ever, fun. At least not from Wolfram and Hart.

He didn't care much for order, and timescales, but this was the first occasion he’d worked directly for the L.A. office – though there had been some subcontracting he’d been involved in – but he’d had several jobs for the London office. The lawyers were very keen on meeting objectives. Hence the memos if things weren’t going quite fast or efficient enough for their tastes. Memo’s which didn't often come on paper or electronically.

And he’d read the file about his potential opposition. In fact, it turned out he’d almost crossed their paths once before. The lawyers had offered him a job about four years earlier – perhaps a little more – to bring a vampire back from being destroyed as part of their project. The project he was now becoming a footnote to. Fate moved in mysterious ways. He was, all things considered, rather glad he’d passed on that one. It seemed that most people involved had died and then Miss Maclay had eventually tracked down the poor, body-snatching, woman the lawyers had gotten to do the deed for them.

And now she was dead too.

Not directly at Miss Maclay’s hand but close enough for him to be wary of what involvement in this could mean. People that came into conflict with her, due to their actions, put themselves at increased risk of coming to grief.

Just look at the vampires.

Still, wary was one thing, unacceptably slow was quite another. The lawyers and their client had a schedule they were working towards and he needed to do his part in making that happen. There were penalty clauses in his contract – as was standard with this firm – which he really didn’t want to incur. Once he got this underway then he could work at his own pace, more or less – just so long as this part of the assignment was proceeding they would be happy.

Vampires, it was clear, had to occupy his nights. Working with and for them – though obviously as far from them as possible to avoid them being tempted – to facilitate their ultimate return to Sunnydale. He was ready to deal with that pendant – or try to – on their behalf. He anticipated success in that department. Then the vampires would come back to Sunnydale and start making demands on him – if they didn’t think the deal was done, they could just kill him out of hand.

He was ready for that possibility too. They wouldn’t succeed.

Those were demands he would have to fill in between working on this, his main commitment. The fact that the progress of the vampires and this project were absolutely opposed to each other in the end didn’t bother him in the slightest – apart from the fatal consequences of being discovered at work on this. Fatal consequences were something he’d made a career out of avoiding. Without avoiding them he wouldn’t have had a career.

All hell breaking chaotically loose should have been ideal for his own personal cause but he rather liked his skin where it was. On him, as opposed to having it flayed from his body by various demons in turn. His reputation preceded him though. The impatient vampires clearly believed he’d sacrifice anything to further their cause – and that might well be true as long as the ‘anything’ in question wasn't his own life.

Or what he was really getting paid for.

‘Rather involved’ might well have been something of an understatement, he theorized as he completed Gisten’s Circle and this afternoon’s work. “There,” he said to no one who could possibly hear him. Hearing required ears and more importantly awareness. Neither of which existed here. Aside from his own of course. There wasn’t much more for him to do here for a while. This just needed to come to the boil for a few days and then he could start thinking about moving on to the next stage. Which was the whole problem with this, it was relatively simple but dreadfully long winded.

He was a patient man, but there were limits to anyone’s patience – especially the vampires. He really would have to get moving on that pendant.

But first things first. A door was going to open and the circle he had made was going to be that door – but right now he was just putting it on its hinges. The doorbell, the key and the opening ceremony itself were just going to have to wait until things were ready to proceed further. He really would have preferred to just have opened it up here and now, but his employers were very specific about what they wanted and that was just for one single thing to pass through. Not a legion of trouble, attractive as legions always sounded. Shame that – but he was getting paid for what they wanted, not what he might have liked.

He was getting paid for being specific and that was much harder to do, which, he supposed, was where the sense of accomplishment came from. And it would be even more of an accomplishment if he could keep his involvement – or the ritual itself – from the vampires and the Witches who were their enemy. Hence he was all too willing to help them work against each other and stay away from this – his main task. What he was getting paid for – and the task that was providing the resources for his own activities.

Ahhh for a little sweet chaos, but he’d get to that later too.

He got to his feet and looked back at the circle. It was already starting to pulsate a little around the edges. The centre looked… it looked as if it was alive, even if the state of it wasn't looking all that healthy. Was it alive? Dead? An embryo of what might be or the corpse of what wasn’t any longer?

This circle was a place where the past met the future and became the ever-shifting present. Chaos would play its part here – that was the nature of the present.

There was somebody who was very happy with this afternoon’s work, and it was blemished only by the fact that as he opened the door, he nearly ran right into the Witches on the way out of the room – and more importantly Ripper’s wife who knew exactly who he was. One day, he thought as he swiftly turned back into the room he’d just left, his identity would be obvious, but not today.

He’d really have to pay Ripper a visit though.

When he had the chance.

-----------------------------

Another week, another review and this one was more important than most. Willow had been worried even before they got to City Hall. Just in case anything bad was said to them, about them or, if they messed up or misunderstood something, by them. It was easy to make jokes that people didn’t understand – Tara did it all the time and she knew she was hardly Ellen either. Sometimes people got the wrong end of the stick and thought they were being serious when, in fact, they were just kidding.

Sometimes people missed the stick altogether and got hold of something else entirely.

And that never ended well.

Logically she could kind of reassure herself because Toni, they were sure, had no complaints about any of the four of them – Jenny representing the Giles’ here whilst Rupert had finished work early to stay with Faith and Ben – but perhaps that was a bad thing too? If Toni had no complaints… Perhaps, Willow’s strange logic had said to her over the past few days since this appointment had been arranged, a lack of complaint from Toni reflected a lack of discipline, which would have been bad. Wasn’t a kid supposed to complain about parents? Or parental figures in their case.

Not that Toni was doing anything that needed to be stopped or disciplined. She was a good kid and Willow liked her being around – a lot. She was a better kid than most she’d met and easier to deal with than Willow had expected her to be at the start of all this. Toni wasn’t a massively enthusiastic scholar or anything but she was, given all the things that had happened, very strong mentally.

Toni was obviously determined to be something – even if she didn’t quite know what that was yet. Maybe she’d always been like that or maybe she was doing it now for her Dad. It didn’t really matter which unless or until Toni wanted to tell them. Sometimes, events in people’s lives changed the way they looked at what they wanted and how much or themselves they were willing to put into what they wanted. So Willow hadn’t pressed the question because it really didn't matter so much when it was a good thing like that. And she knew Tara hadn’t asked either, and nor would she in the future.

There was still a low level of simmering tension between Tara and Toni, no matter how much they all wanted it to go away.

Or on the other hand there wasn’t a low level of simmering tension, when you thought about what that meant.

What was a ‘simmering tension’ anyway? It was just a phrase. What there was between them – and there was definitely a problem when you compared it to how well Jenny and Toni got on – was well hidden. It certainly wasn’t there all the time. But it never quite went away either.

Perhaps… bubbling under?

‘Bubbling’ made it sound much more active than it really was. There were no bubbles.

‘Not doing much at all’ tension? The problem was that phrase seemed to understate it just as much. And it was a bit wordy. When it was there, obvious and in everyone’s face, then it was serious. But ninety percent of the time, ninety-nine even, the two T’s got on great. Most of the time. Well not… ‘great.’ But not in any way that could be called ‘bad’ either. Toni didn’t have a problem with Rupert, Jenny or Willow herself and relative to how those relationships were developing, the one with Tara stood out as an anomaly.

Okay, so there were some tension filled exchanges in sign about how they all thought things should be – nearly every day – and Willow had found herself taking Toni’s side in those sometimes, but there were no real long term issues. It was just the way they were. Three opinionated people – two of them were in love, one of which really did know best… and that was Tara.

The only ongoing problem seemed to be between Tara and Toni.

Or more accurately between Toni and Tara. It was Toni’s issue – not in any way Tara’s. Tara was doing her best and what was right. There was nothing Tara was doing that she could change which would make Toni react more favourably towards her – at least not so far as Willow could see. The problem, from Tara’s side, was that she knew it was there too. On the one hand Willow knew that Tara hated that there was that distance between her and Toni – she’d even come close to crying about it once or twice, which proved just how much it sometimes got to her – but on the other hand, Tara wouldn’t let the fact that Toni and she had that problem interfere with how things had to be.

Tara was still running the show around here – and it wasn't as if Toni was playing up to get her own way. No, she had much better reasons than that.

Better and worse reasons.

Tara made allowances for Toni, she really did, for the problems they were overcoming in communication – for all that had happened to her in the last few months of her young life – but Tara wouldn’t let that interfere with what should be happening in the apartment and outside it. It was just the same when they were looking after Faith for Rupert and Jenny – Tara was the one who imposed the rules on the little girl. Just as she was the one who imposed most of the rules on Toni.

They were always fair rules but they were rules all the same. It was how Tara herself had been raised and it had worked well enough for her now hadn’t it? Look at the wonderful woman who’d come from the girl raised by those rules. Rules and compassion. That was Tara through and through.

But because there was a problem, Tara sometimes appeared harsh when she really wasn't being. Toni chafed against that just as she chafed against Willow or Jenny or Rupert telling her she couldn’t do something she wanted to do. All teenagers did, but when it was Tara, when they were having a problem, it was different. There was the undercurrent that was always there.

And that wasn’t even the worst of it. In part Willow knew it was her fault. She supposed that Tara was just playing the role that she’d defined for her girlfriend, at least in part, by not being so dedicated to keeping Toni in line. Willow was much less strict with Toni, with Faith and probably one day she’d be the same with Ben and their own child – if they got round to deciding they could do that.

Willow knew she was more likely to be a partner in crime than the one who solved and punished the crime… it was just the way she was. She knew she could get carried away sometimes. Maybe she was just a kid at heart who would never grow up. Maybe it was something to do with being killed when she was Toni’s age…

Not that Tara minded being responsible-girl, but her girlfriend had to be the ‘bad guy’ in Toni’s eyes because Willow found it harder to take that role – even to help Tara out with Toni. Tara knew the pain Toni was feeling… better than Willow probably understood it. Her reaction had been delayed… but Tara knew. Tara had been through it. And she knew when Toni was just trying to play on that to get into or out of something. Tara wouldn’t let the young woman get away with it – at least not often.

The problem was that it was on those very issues – the ones involving her Dad – that Toni flared against Tara the most. It wasn't like they were having a row, with accusations and stuff flying around. Not much anyway, no more than in usual teen behaviour. It really was just occasional tension – never pleasant when it was there and obvious – but not the major part of their relationship with each other.

Thank the goddess. She wasn't sure any of them could have taken a succession of full on rows.

What Willow didn’t get was why she felt so bad about being here, in this building, now. They’d been here, for the weekly reviews, before. They’d been every week for the first month they’d had Toni staying with them – but maybe it was because if this one went well then they’d just have monthly reviews… maybe that had made her so apprehensive. Monthly reviews, here, plus whatever visits the caseworker decided were necessary to the apartment itself – usually just every couple of weeks – would show how much trust they had in them all. Willow had never done well assuming that people could, or would, trust her.

Apart from Tara of course.

Was this why she was feeling bad?

It had gotten worse though, the yucky feeling, the closer they got to the building and hence the time of the meeting. Eventually, whilst walking down the corridor to the Social Services department she’d had to run off and hang her head over the nearest toilet bowl. Fortunately there had been some time before the meeting had to start and she’d recovered enough for that. Being so icky that you felt sick was more than just apprehension. She hadn’t actually been sick, but she’d felt that bad she could have been.

Maybe there had been some bad eggs in the sandwich she’d had for lunch, but Tara was fine, as was Toni, and they’d had the same egg-mayo mix as she had. Well, Tara was fine apart from worrying about her baby anyway. Willow hated Tara having to worry about her, even if Tara’s tender loving care was as tender as she could ever have anticipated it would be.

Okay, it was good… great even… to have someone who worried about her when they had to, but the worry itself… Bleh. She didn’t want that at all. She looked at herself in the mirror, splashed her face with more water and then dried herself off. She didn’t want that ‘bleh’ feeling. She’d made it to and through the meeting, made their good impression on the caseworker and now she could get out of here which ought to make all the difference. She was sure that it would get better – besides she really didn’t want Tara worrying about her.

“You okay baby?” Tara asked as she re-emerged from the bathroom for the second time.

“Yeah, Willow,” Jenny said, “you really looked as if you were about to barf all over the caseworker for a minute there.” There might have been a joke there, but it was smothered in concern.

“Just for a minute?” she asked. It had seemed much longer – it had been much longer. “I’ve been feeling bad since way before we even got here,” she explained to them as they were free to talk.

“Want me to rub your tummy?” Tara asked, obviously concerned.

Jenny smiled as Willow looked at her. “Not here, love,” she said. “But you know, maybe, when we get home if I’m still feeling bad.” Or even if she wasn’t.

“You and your stomach rubs,” Jenny said to Tara. “Are you sure there’s no magic there?” She knew all about them of course, though not from a personal point of view.

Willow had to agree with Jenny’s estimation of the power of Tara’s gentle caress there. She’d cured Faith of the after-effects of eating altogether too many pieces of candy a few times now. And last Halloween? If Tara hadn’t been there, then Faith might never have eaten candy again – and that was too cruel to contemplate. “That depends why she’s rubbing it,” Willow said, forcing herself to be more cheerful than she felt. She didn’t want them worrying about her. Any of them. It wasn’t a worry worthy feeling – just an icky one. “Can we go? I think... I think I’ll feel better – less barfy that is – when we get out into the fresh air and all.”

“Sure, baby,” Tara said and looped a reassuring arm through hers, leading them down corridors Tara knew very well indeed. She’d used to work here after all. She’d had her own office, which Willow realised they’d stayed well away from. A different part of the building from what she remembered, having paid one visit here herself whilst Tara was still employed by the Mayor.

Just one.

And not quite herself.

It seemed Tara didn’t want to meet any of the functionaries who might have been here back then. Who might have known her and whom she’d used to work for.

That was fine. There was no need for them to do that. Lizzie, the old Mayor’s secretary, had retired long ago and accepted the legacy the Mayor had left for her to ease the pain of her chronic arthritis. She was off having a life after thirty dedicated years or so of service. They got postcards from places Willow wanted to visit one day.

All round the world.

Tara was always sending Lizzy e-mails, and the ones she got in reply always made her smile. That, though, was as much contact as Tara wanted with anyone else who had worked for the Old Mayor. Mayor Wilkins.

Leaving the building, stepping out of those big doors into the open air, was better for her. Definitely better. Not gone – she still wanted to get her tummy rubbed when they got home – but she could imagine, if this improvement kept up, that by the time they got home, she’d want that for other reasons. For now though, just being outside made all the difference in the world. And she wasn't sure it was all about fresh air either.

She was obviously stressing too much about the whole Toni situation and what a caseworker could do to end or change it. If they were found wanting…

“You should try morning sickness,” Jenny said as Willow drew a few deep breaths. “In no way is that fun, wanting to puke for a few weeks solid.”

Even Willow managed to force a laugh at that. ‘One day… One day perhaps’ she wanted to say. She didn’t say it out loud though. What would be the point? It might not be something they wanted, but then… hence the ‘perhaps.’ Perhaps she should say it.

Who said it would be her anyway?

She might help Tara through that very natural process. If that was the route they chose together. Or maybe avoid it altogether. Feeling sick, on the other hand, really wasn't the time to be thinking about… well, processes that involved feeling sick. It was a perfect way to feel sicker than she was already and that might have tipped her over the edge into really being sick.

She couldn’t help looking to Tara though. Not obviously looking, more subtly looking. She wanted Tara’s true reaction – not what she thought Willow needed to see whilst she was sick. And…

There wasn’t a hint on her love’s face that she was even thinking about what Jenny had said as anything but a joke. But then, Willow knew, Tara wasn’t as hyperaware of that issue as Willow herself was. It wasn't a huge part of her thinking – which was kind of the point for Willow. The whole thing in a nutshell. And she didn't even know if there was a reason to be having an issue with it.

Willow wasn't thinking she wanted kids. The goddess knew she wasn't sure she’d ever think that.

She was thinking that she’d like them to have the chance – if that was right for them to bring someone else into their lives. In whatever shape or form that happened. Whatever way it might come to happen. More deep breaths to get over the disappointment she couldn’t help feeling, because Tara didn't seem to share a sensitivity to that desire.

If someone mentioned Toni’s Dad around the younger woman – or her past – then she was alert to it. Affected. Why wasn't Tara so alert when someone mentioned their future? Or something that might be a part of it, that Willow wanted to be a part of it.

They headed out across the gardens in front of City Hall to make their way to Jenny’s car. The further away from having to worry about how their care for Toni was being perceived the better she felt. It still could have been brought on by a bad egg though, exaggerated by her nervousness perhaps. And then –

-


A horse.

A rider.

Hills and a trail they were riding on. So green. So untamed. Wild and pure.

In the distance, a speck on the horizon which filled the rider with anticipation.

Anticipation of having been there before, even though this was the first time the rider had passed this way.

Memories of going there again.



-

Something must have happened to her, she could see the concern on her girlfriend’s face, but she had no idea what might have caused it. It had to have happened because she wasn't where she remembered being just a moment ago. She was… She was stood in a different place at the far side of the gardens. She was stood right in the middle of a flowerbed with Tara holding her back from another step with her hand on her shoulder. Jenny had a hold of her other arm. Why were they holding onto her?

Easy, they were stopping her from crossing the main street in another few steps.

Willow looked back where to where she remembered being.

She was wet…

And not in a good way.

The sprinklers. She must have walked right through the sprinklers and… gotten here without even knowing that she’d done it.

Without noticing, nor remembering anything about it. Not getting from there to here. Not the sprinklers, which had just soaked her. Not Tara and Jenny trying to get her to stop. Not starting to set off. Not being stopped here.

Nothing until now.

“Tara,” Jenny said, “It’s okay. She’s back. She’s back.”

Willow looked into her love’s eyes and saw the fear she hated there. The fear that she caused, intentional or not. She didn't like Tara having to be afraid for her. And it wasn't going away just because Jenny said those words. She knew what Tara was thinking, she might have been back – but where had she gone? And why?

“I know,” Tara said. “I can feel her again.” She came round in front of Willow, rested her head against her girlfriend’s. “I can feel you baby. And I couldn’t feel you before… a moment ago. Just then. You’d faded… as if you were far away from me.”

That, more than not knowing what happened, scared Willow. Words were obviously inadequate for what Tara meant, she was just doing the best she could – to explain it to Jenny as much as to Willow and maybe herself. Distance had never made any difference to their connection, at least the few times any real physical distance had opened up between them. It obviously scared Tara too, almost certainly for the same reason. They’d always been able to feel each other…

“And yet you were right there,” Jenny mused.

“I was… right here. But I wasn’t,” Willow told them. “And baby,” she said to Tara, “I’m fine.” She took Tara’s hand from her and squeezed it reassuringly. “I’m really fine. I promise. And no more bleh tummy either.” Okay, so losing a few seconds, or was it minutes, wasn’t how she would have chosen to get rid of that bleh tummy, but she’d take any plus she could get to reassure Tara.

A little smile crossed Tara’s lips which was all Willow wanted from her right now. She didn’t want Tara worrying about her – but this was more than a ‘bleh tummy.’ It was… something else. Tara was scared by the fact she hadn’t been able to feel Willow.

That scared Willow too. She came back to the fact that they could always feel each other. Not like in the sense of being constantly aware, more in the sense of just knowing that the other was there, and all right. Just the gentlest sense of the other’s being within their own heart and mind.

And if that had faded… if Tara had felt it fade, even though she had been right there beside her. Willow knew she would have been terrified if their positions had been reversed – but she was back now. She was fine. She’d said so and she meant it. She was fine – and her tummy was all better. Everything was good, but not better.

Not that it was going to be enough for Tara to know that. Tara was going to want answers – and Willow wanted them too. She didn’t like… well, any of it really. The fact she’d scared Tara. The fact she couldn’t remember how or why it had happened.

“What happened?” she asked belatedly, wondering if they’d noticed anything about her that might help her figure this out, which might prompt a memory in her own mind.

“You just kept walking straight ahead,” Jenny said. “Right through the sprinklers, the flower beds and dirt and stepping right over the low wall back there,” she gestured and Willow looked. “For a moment I thought maybe you’d just not noticed where the path was going.”

Willow thought about it. She must have been aware in some way of her surroundings, her path. She should have fallen flat on her face at the wall, it was an abnormally large step to take – not natural walking. But she hadn’t fallen. Was it something like sleep walking? People negotiated obstacles when they did that didn't they, and remembered nothing? She was sure they’d watched something on the Discovery Channel once…

“You just missed the tree too,” their friend completed.

“And I couldn’t feel you properly,” Tara added, making it clear it was more important to her. “Just as if, suddenly, you were… very far away.” Repetition didn’t make it any better.

Once again Willow knew words had failed her. Once again she thought about how distance made no difference to their connection. They’d been apart, far apart, a few times over the past few years and they’d always been able to know that the other was okay. It was the one thing that really made separation for hunts bearable – they knew that everything was okay because they knew they’d know if it weren’t.

She could guess what Tara meant, something about how ‘distance’ might affect that connection.

What would she do if suddenly everything wasn't okay with their connection…? Well, Willow didn’t want to think about that. This connection was something that was really just on or off as far as they could tell. On was alive and well… Off… Not going there. Part way to being off was...

And that was why Tara had been so afraid, wasn’t it? Because, as they understood it, anything which interfered with Willow being ‘on’ in her mind was… Well ,‘off’ or leading to it.

Even though Willow felt fine – better than she had done before her little adventure. Even though apart from having to be stopped from walking out into the street there was no real bad here. It was worrying – but she was okay. Tara and Jenny were okay. She felt better – and there had just been… nothing. Or even the absence of nothing. No awareness of anything at all.

“It was like you were walking in your sleep,” Jenny decided.

Willow nodded. Exactly what she’d thought a moment ago, or wondered about.

“Except I can feel you in your sleep,” Tara said. Her girlfriend was obviously still very worried.

Tara was right… they could feel each other when they were sleeping – at least when they were awake and the other was asleep anyway. “Baby,” Willow took Tara in her arms and stood nose to nose with her, rubbing her back gently. “I promise you I’m fine. I’m right here… and you never lost me. Right?” Tara hadn’t lost her, had she? She’d not been totally away?

“No. I never lost you. But – ”

“Good. So… Right here. Fine.” Willow repeated the words – she was more afraid than she was willing to show Tara. “Promise.” She was telling her lover the truth – apart from her own worrying about what had happened. This wasn’t normal. Okay, living on a Hellmouth, ‘normal’ was a pretty loose definition and radically different from most other places in the country, but all the same she didn't …

Besides she didn’t sleep walk – she was sure Tara would have told her. More to the point, she only ever woke up in a certain person’s arms, so even if she did she found her way back.

And anyway… it wasn’t like sleep walking really. It was more like her mind had gone somewhere else and her body had just kept going. That wasn’t really sleep walking, was it? Who fell asleep whilst they were walking back to a car? She wasn’t even tired. She’d have to look it up – if Tara, Jenny and Rupert didn’t get to doing that first. She didn’t suppose they’d let it go, even though she’d said she was fine.

But where had her mind gone?

Why didn’t she remember anything about that time? Had she forgotten something? Or had she just blacked out? That might… well, it would be pretty mundane. Mundane was good. If you were going to lose track of time in Sunnydale then it was probably better to do it in a mundane way. Rather than being knocked out, getting all mystical, or anything like that. On the other hand, that might mean there was something actually wrong with her. Worst came to the worst – if it happened again then she could –

“I think you should go see the doctor, sweetie,” Tara told her, anticipating what she’d been thinking.

She could always go and see a doctor. Tara knew best, always. But maybe she was worrying a little too much, too soon? It had only been a few seconds after all.

But it had never happened before and that could be cause for worry.

She kissed Tara, as much for anticipating her and having such wonderful good sense as to reassure her. “Not yet,” Willow said. “By the time I get an appointment we’ll know if there is any reason for it.” Her love was about to protest so Willow stroked her cheek. “I promise you, if it happens once more, I’ll be there before you can say ‘what time’s the next appointment.’ In fact I’ll go to the emergency room and cut out the waiting.”

Once again she knew Tara was about to protest. And once more Willow stopped her. This time with another kiss. “I promise I’ll go, even if I just lose a second. Promise.”

Tara clearly wasn’t really happy about that. But she accepted both the logic and the promise and, of course, the kiss. They both knew that unless it was something really obvious then the doctor would just send her to the hospital for tests which could get all expensive and time consuming anyway. Maybe for no real reason. A few seconds, just once, was worrying – scary even – but not something that was necessarily going to be a big problem anyone could, or would need to, do anything about.

And on the ‘Living on a Hellmouth’ side… perhaps it was nothing physiological at all? Perhaps it was just some emanation from that underground doorway to bad places?

It was all speculation.

Okay, so something… something had taken her away. This wasn't, she was sure in her own mind, a medical thing. She felt fine. No confusion. No dizziness. No tiredness before or after this had happened. The bleh belly had been there before it happened but now, no bleh belly. So, if anything, something good had come from it. Tara still looked frightened by what had happened, Willow had to admit that she was a little frightened. But she was frightened by not remembering rather than what had happened…

Not even remembering whether there was anything to remember.

Except…

Horses.

No, not horses.

One horse.

Riding.

Riding on a horse in a landscape that seemed… familiar.

Except it hadn’t been so, but even so…

In fact, the whole thing seemed familiar somehow. And the fact it was familiar, that she thought she’d seen something like that – or at least felt it or something – was officially weirder than the whole ‘falling asleep’ thing itself.

Unless her mind was just filling in the blanks that were left with something else? Was that why things seemed familiar to her? They said that ‘nature abhorred a vacuum,’ maybe this was her way of avoiding it. Maybe her mind was just sending stuff she remembered from somewhere else in to fill the gaps which had just opened up? Maybe it was like déjà vu, and how that worked?

Except she wasn’t sure she really remembered it at all. That. Specifically at least, she wasn't sure she'd ever been there. At least not riding right there… She’d only ridden in one place in her life and that wasn’t the place she’d seen in her head. No. It wasn't. It wasn’t quite her memory, even if it was a memory at all. Just something close enough to it to seem familiar…

Or something like that anyway. She’d taken Psych at college, and it wasn’t giving her any clues about this.

Still, on the plus side she kept coming back to, she wasn't feeling sick anymore – that blehness seemed to have been purged in whatever it was that had happened. Was there any connection between her tummy and her head? Only that she knew in her head that she liked Tara to rub her tummy.

She’d still get Tara to do it for her though – even if she had to wait until a bit later, when the post mortem into the blackout had ended. Okay, post mortem wasn’t the best term. Let’s not be using those words around Tara and Jenny.

It was funny, as these seconds, holding Tara and reassuring her, passed by she didn’t find herself feeling scared any more. Not for herself anyway, which was a strange thought to be having. Even though she’d almost walked out into traffic she wasn't scared… Okay, so she’d be better doing her dreaming in bed from now on...

With Tara asleep by her side and not worried about her in the slightest. It might take a couple of days before Tara wasn’t worrying about her.

And then she realised just what it was about those horsey thoughts that struck her as familiar. Not that she’d been riding there… Though she’d been somewhere near recognising it – because it was the general landscape she knew. She knew the landscape… even if it seemed far off from where she’d been before – the place she knew…

And it wasn't just the content… it was the sensation itself.

It was a little like, and nowhere near the same as, the dreams she remembered having of Tara before… well, before the Master had caught her – even though they hadn’t been anything she’d remembered until after she’d seen Tara for real. And there had been more of them later when she’d been in that cage with Xander. More still, remembered second hand, from the vampires perspective. That was the sort of feeling she was having now.

Sort of a dream.

But also sort of true…

It was… Those dreams, those had been something to do with prophecy – or fate. Something. What was this?

It was different and… It was like… it seemed old. Older. Very old. So old it was long gone…

Or so it seemed. That was just a sense though. There… There was no memory as there would have been in one of those dreams of Tara. This was… it was just a feeling. Or something like a feeling anyway.

And thinking of Tara – and the riding thing – that was what it was like there. It was the sense of things she had… At least she thought she did, if her mind wasn’t playing tricks. The hills behind… in the background… They reminded her of a place she’d come to know pretty well but hadn’t been back to…

Well, it had been a while since they’d been there.

Either there was something real… or she was thinking of it, her mind was using the gap as a dumping ground, choosing that for no apparent reason. That or something else reminded her of that and she’d sort of, well, extrapolated and created a picture of something she knew from it.

There was no way to tell, it was just a feeling after all – not even a memory. There was just no way to know. Was there?

Tara might have known, but she couldn’t really describe it to her – or worry her more by talking about it – at least until she knew what was going on. If nothing ever happened again then, in a few weeks, months maybe, they probably wouldn’t remember this even happening. And if something did happen again… well then, she’d get Tara to help her figure out just why she was feeling something like that. Because then she’d have a reason to believe that it wasn’t just the ghost of her own memory. There had been something… It was the land, she was sure, at least in her mind, near the farm Tara had grown up on. Where Tara had brought her back to herself and where they’d fallen in love.

Riding… It had meant a lot to her… What had happened when they’d been riding out on that land for the first time. Maybe the gap in her memory of a few seconds had just reflected the day they’d gone out on horses and made love under a tree, in the bright, warm sunshine. They’d gone far from the house then – out into the terrain she thought she might be recognising. One of her most treasured memories she had to admit… Something so important to her she’d never let it fade in her memory.

But this hadn’t seemed like her memory.

She was sure though, in the feelings she ‘recalled’, that she’d been alone. Tara hadn’t been with her – and yet she’d never ridden alone. Not there. Not anywhere else. So either she was delirious or she was dreaming.

Or there was something else going on.

In this town she couldn’t doubt any of those possibilities.

“Come on, love,” she said finally. She was determined not to worry either of them any more, but more especially Tara. Not if there was nothing to it – it wasn't like it was a bad dream, so perhaps Tara was right to wonder... “Let’s just get back and tell Toni that it all went okay.”

That was the most important thing, they’d earned enough trust to be allowed just monthly checks from now on. They, the two of them along with Jenny, her husband and children, had taken Toni into their family. They’d all been a family before, and now Toni was a part of it. The girl had to know they were doing okay with that – officially – and how the caseworker had praised them all for the ‘obviously great rapport’ they’d built with her.

And she’d said it to Tara. Well, to all of them. But Tara…

After speaking to Toni…

Whatever problems Tara and Toni had… well, they weren’t so bad that Toni couldn’t feel they were getting on and tell other people they were.

And after the worries she’d had about all that – Willow couldn’t really think about much else to worry about. Not unless this blackout thing happened again, then she’d see.

************************




-------------------------


If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in Chance.


------------------------
Katharyn
23. Volumey Text
 
Posts: 3794
Topics: 5
Joined: Sun Apr 24, 2005 1:23 pm


Re: Part 154

Postby heraldgal » Mon Mar 01, 2004 9:59 am

Ethan seems to be making steps, should we be worried about what he is doing and how bad it will be for Willow and Tara? You just like to make us worry. :)



I like how your addressing the normal things of taking Toni with the social services and all. Poor Willow being sicky cannot be fun, but it is sort of scarey that Tara could not feel Willow for that few moments. What is this place Willow was? Her past or some sort of vampire residual?



Thank you for the update.



Cathy.

heraldgal
 


Re: Part 154

Postby Katharyn » Mon Mar 01, 2004 1:23 pm

Ethan has to take steps, he'd working for W&H (and as far as the vampires are concerned for D&D too!)



I would worry about what he is doing, and you are, but don't assume that everything is bad for T/W. I do like you to worry, but look at the motivations he has as I explain them. He is not doing any of this to "be bad."



Once again I have to say Toni and social services is me being me. I could have glossed over it in a sentence or two, but would that be me? No.



Tara could feel Willow, but not as strong as usual. Don't let that lead you the wrong way.



As for where Willow was... There are clues there - but not enough. You need to wait for more. Interesting idea's you have though.



Thanks so much



Katharyn



*BIG HUGS FOR KERRY*

-------------------------




If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in Chance.




------------------------

Katharyn
 


Re: Fic: - The Sidestep Chronicle & Second Chronicle

Postby tiredsoul » Mon Mar 01, 2004 1:57 pm

Well, I am behind in my reading but this little quote was too fun to pass up...

Quote:
Anya... or maybe I should say Anyanka. That is all I have to say... maybe someone else should comment so I give nothing away (not that I am saying there is anything to give away). What I mean is maybe someone else (*cough* Licky or Kerry *cough*) should comment about where we are, how we got here, and what would be needed for Anya...


See, no one tells me anything so I don't know much and here's a perfect opportunity for Katharyn to prove that very point and pound my theory into the ground :p



I like the idea of Anyanka. It was her world after all, right? Or has it been there the entire time?



Well, let’s see, the pendant was never broken, was it? Because if it was, than this world would have ceased to exist. Or would it? Just because the spell of the pendant was broken, hypothetically, it wouldn’t necessary mean that the world it created would end, does it? The wish (pendant) may have created the world and its destruction, if it were destroyed, would end it. But then again, who’s to say that the pendant created the world? It may have simply placed the wearer, Cordielia, into a different world. So, on that theory, if the pendant was never broken then the “real” Sunnydale no longer exists or maybe it does exist on the same timeline, on a different dimension entirely?



So there could be an Anya in the other dimension if the pendant were broken (and dead by this timeline) or she could still be Anyanka if it weren't. But I suppose it really depends on what the pendant created to begin with. The power of the wish seemed infinite in its ability so anything is possible, especially in the hands of Katharyn.



It’s really enough to make your head spin, huh? :p



Licky

---------------------------------

When innocence is shattered
... madness is inevitable

www.gotlicky.com

tiredsoul
 


Re: Fic: - The Sidestep Chronicle & Second Chronicle

Postby forrister » Tue Mar 02, 2004 4:19 am

Heheh, the thought of engaging a scampering Licky in a philosophical discussion of temporal and interdimensional theory certainly amuses me.



I have a theory and long ago I mentally fitted SS into it. This is how it goes.



1. There are an infinite number of dimentions with an infinite number of variations. (If you want the mathematics I suggest you check out the theory of the Isen function.)



2. The 'wish pendant' operated by putting its victim into the nearest dimension that had the variables specified in the wish. This may be quite literal, and being the closest suitable dimension to the dimension the wish was made, it would mean the universe would be close to the original, but not the same.



Ok - its not overly complicated but I like it. It works. The real truth is that it doesn't really matter why it works, just so long as we enjoy reading the story and mentally following the possibilities. All good stories lie in the realm of 'what if'. What if this happens? What if that happens? From that frame hangs the masterpiece that is Sidestep.



Forrister



Utinam logica falsa tuam philosophiam totam suffodiant!

May faulty logic undermine your entire philosophy!

forrister
 


Re: Fic: - The Sidestep Chronicle & Second Chronicle

Postby Katharyn » Wed Mar 03, 2004 12:07 am

Licky & Kerry Since you both pick up the same thing I will reply to you both!



Is it Anyanka's World? I think that both ways work. In "reality" where everything is quantum I think Kerry's theory is correct. There are infinite opportunities for infinite worlds.



On the one hand then, I think Anyanka may have been overstating her powers and pretending to create a world, when all she did was move Cordelia there. Much easier to accomplish. In which case the overwhelming majority of those worlds wouldn't have an Anya, because in most of them Anya never became Anyanka because she wasn't let down by a man a thousand years ago, or never became a VD if she was. She would just have lived her life and died.



I suppose, technically, there would also be worlds where she became a VD lived a thousand years and then stopped being a VD just in time to be Anya again at this point in time... Anything is possible. BUt I would actually rule out Anya from such a story, but not Anyanka since she is integral to it.



All that said though I like that theory and it is probably a reflection of real universe quantum theory I am not sure I like the story to be based on that - at least not now. I started the story based on the idea from the Wish, without reading much into it. (Admittedly in the BC I did have a cross over) but essentially I wrote based on the idea that Anyanka created the world from the world that was there.



This, then, would be the only world. The only T/W. I kind of like that idea because as bad as it was this is better than the canon. If this is the only world then the girls are safe EVERYWHERE...



Either way works and this is the only universe that counts in this story - but the question really was about Anyanka/Anya. As I said above Anya doesn't really have to exist in an infinite universe theory - though plainly Anyanka does and thus Anya could. (In some realities Anya would exist but that would be stretching the likelihood of probability and reader suspension of disbelief) As you know I am somewhat anal about the details and how things fit together - cause and effect.



In the "this is the world" theory I couldn't destroy that pendant to get Anya into the story without snapping everything back to what is essentially canon and kind of invalidating all I wrote. It would cheat the reader and take them back to a world that was eventually worse! So... no Anya in that proposition - but Anyanka is always open.



Damn did give something away there?



Well only if I pick a universe model and stick to it...



Katharyn

-------------------------




If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in Chance.




------------------------

Katharyn
 


Re: Part 129

Postby DarkRed » Wed Mar 03, 2004 7:29 pm

AHOI, me again :bigwave



it's late so i don't have time for a long reply, just wanted to say that this part (129) was just gripping! i couldn't stop reading and i was so tense, all my muscles were clenched lol.

writing this one from lil Faith's point of view was a brilliant choice, adding to the scare affect! i mean those banging on the door while she's going all "oh there's someone out there, lets be a good girl and look who it is, la la la" and we know what's out there.. bbrrr simply terrifying!!



in short loved it, gotta wake up early tomorrow and read the rest hehehe.. i wonder how are they going to get out of this mess :hmm



:kitty anat.

DarkRed
 


Re: Part 154

Postby xita » Sat Mar 06, 2004 1:44 pm

Ahh great part. I really enjoyed this one. What in the world is Ethan doing? I almost wish our girls had seen him. What is he bringing over? So many questions, more with Willow, what was that blackout, vision thingie? She should tell Tara, it's not good to keep things from one's beloved even though you think it's for the best.



Well, you've got me all intrigued!

- - - - - - - - - - -
"Hard work often pays off after time but laziness always pays off now!"


xita
 


Re: part 156

Postby tiredsoul » Sun Mar 07, 2004 9:17 am

I loved this part on so many levels. Ethan just reeks of badness, which I love and he’s a brewin’ something. You’ve kept the reality of the situation with Toni in having to deal with the basics of meetings and such, and you intrigued everyone with Willow’s little sidestep. And yay, something I know :p



But what don’t I know? A lot. I liked your comments on Anya, it does make for interesting debate, in a non-temporal and interdimensional theory sort of way. My brain just goes to mush with that much science. Good thing they let me take math as a way to avoid science, though human anatomy was fun :p



Thanks Katharyn.



--celia

---------------------------------

When innocence is shattered
... madness is inevitable

www.gotlicky.com

tiredsoul
 


Re: part 156

Postby Katharyn » Sun Mar 07, 2004 3:49 pm

Part 157 in just a minute, first some replies.



Anat - Hey there. Wow I remember what part 129, but only because you gave me clues! Big action parts are things which I seem to enjoy because I drag them out so much, but they're better when I can play with them in some other way. Writing Faith was like a breath of fresh air in the good/bad thing.



Thanks for your support!



Xita - Glad you are enjoying the ride. What is Ethan doing? He is doing the Ethan thing.



If the girls had seen him then where would I get the rest of the story from?



Willow... trust me on the fact that nothing bad happens. And intrigued is one of the ways I like you!



Licky - Hey hun! Once more I am stuck with the reality I create. I feel I have a responsibility not to abandon it to its own fate. And yeah, you know something - unless the whole thing you know was a bluff???



Think on that...



I confused myself with the Anya thing, I have no idea where I am now. Much like you in human anatomy... NOT.



Thanks for everything!



Katharyn

-------------------------




If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in Chance.




------------------------

Katharyn
 


Part 157

Postby Katharyn » Sun Mar 07, 2004 3:53 pm

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - The Pendant (Part 157)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Ethan does something about that pesky pendant.
Disclaimer: I 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. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: Though this part is kind of a story arc one for Ethan, it’s really another excuse to have a look at the lives of T/W and their guest. So shoot me.
Thanks To: All My Brilliant Beta Readers (AMBBR) Kerry (Forrister)who for some reason signed right back up for this fic after seeing the size of the last one. No accounting for madness is there. And Celia (TiredSoul) who should have known better but signed up anyway. *HUGS* and Big Thanks to all of you. This is one of Kerry’s and she made a good point about reminding me of something I will use later… but I will not say what it is. Shhhhh. Also, Celia, this is the part I referred you to re: the pendant. Of course, when I referred you I had not edited in the thing I was referring you to. So it was not there. But it is now!

The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

The Pendant

By

Katharyn Rosser


Well, Ethan mused, it seemed the two witches were the only other magic in Sunnydale. It was a fact he considered to be pretty amazing for a town that sat right on top of a Hellmouth. He would have thought someone, or at least someone else than himself, would have been making use of all the mystical energy that was floating around here be that for virtuous or nefarious purposes.

Spells were that much easier at a mystical convergence – it was part of the attraction of this place for him and why he kept coming back. Perhaps, he thought, there had once been other people doing magic but the Witches, who were after all friends with a do-gooder in the person of Ripper, had forced them out of town and into anonymity. That sounded about right.

This was the sort of place a person who knew how to manipulate the dark forces could make a name for themselves. If they didn't already have a name that was known in the dark underworld.

Perhaps, anyone else who had been around here using magic had been handled more permanently. Ripper had a fondness for him, which was probably why he’d been allowed to escape with his life in the past. And he was human… but anything, or anyone else… Perhaps Ripper and the Witches were killing them. He rather thought that the truth was a little less dramatic.

There was evidence of the past use of magic here in Sunnydale – it was all over the place, if you knew how to look for it – but there was so very little evidence of anything that was current and ongoing. Not even the hidden entrance to the domain of that magic dealer still existed in this town and that had been here for more years than Ethan had been alive. Something had forced these magicians, tricksters and all round bad eggs out – but whether it had been the vampires, the old Mayor or the witches he wasn’t able to say. Perhaps it was all of them in combination, or at least succession.

All he knew was that it really was a good thing he’d come along or else this town might just have disappeared off the magical map entirely – not to mention becoming even more boring than it even was now. That was fine though – he already had plans afoot to liven the place up a little. Before he’d finished with it, Sunnydale would be ‘jumping.’ At least for a little while.

He wasn't really an ‘excitement’ kind of guy – it frequently led to unfortunate near death experiences – but dull as dishwater just wasn't the sort of town he wanted to live in either. Picket fences and flowers didn’t do it for him at all. He was a motel room kind of guy, but there still had to be something happening out there, something of interest even in a place as thoroughly cleansed of magic as this.

Dullness came from the order, order that had been imposed on this place. He could feel it. Maybe it wasn't formally imposed, codified in laws and traditions, but it was certainly there. Order. He hated order. It was the antithesis of what he liked to see in a badly run town. This place had such great potential for chaos; potential it had once started to live up to under the rule of the vampires.

Now that had been a chaotic reign, where the rules – such as they were – had been a matter of survival of the fittest and they’d been constantly shifting. That was much better than… government. Sunnydale deserved to be a place where anything could happen and despite the rule of the Master, vampires had given it that. Predator/prey relationships were ultimately very natural. To be against them would be like rebelling against the laws of gravity – ultimately rather stupid.

Things were possible here in moments that would have taken years to conjure in nearly any other place. Just because the magic wasn't being used as much didn’t mean it wasn't here. And now it was his to make use of as he saw fit – without competition.

No, that wasn’t quite the case. It just wasn't being used in any lasting way. The Witches, and perhaps even Rupert, would be using magic in short bursts, and that would be easier too, but that wasn’t befitting a Hellmouth. It wasn’t the way this wonderful feature deserved to be used. If the place had been sat on top of an oil field they’d have been making use of that natural resource, wouldn’t they?

Although technically a Hellmouth was a pre-natural resource rather than a natural one.

It had been formed before there had even been what humanity regarded as ‘nature.’ Who decided that such a thing should be entirely muzzled and unused? It was a waste, even if a full opening of the Hellmouth would have been decidedly unfortunate. At least while he was still here in town. Hellmouth openings were never pretty.

He could understand why the witches were using magic to get and keep Sunnydale under control and he had to admit they did have things under control. More to the point they had the Hellmouth under control which was even more impressive to him – even if the magic they were using was a little puzzling and order, or control, was never a good thing.

He had his suspicions about the source of that magic of theirs but nothing he’d care to hang his hat on. Or, more particularly, risk his life over. Challenging anyone else’s magic was always a risk to life and sanity. He was rather attached to his life and firmly intended, even in the face of unknown witch’s magic and vampire employers, to keep it as his own. As for his sanity, he was the sanest person he knew.

So whilst there was one other thing that was puzzling him, magically speaking, in addition to just what it was they were doing to enforce the supernatural order around here, he couldn’t act with impunity. That one thing was… how. What that thing was they were doing he couldn’t say… There were only a few things, a few rituals, going on in the locality he had been able to detect. And one of those was what he was interested in at the moment, but it didn't help him with the rest of their magical activities. Another of those magical elements he could detect now… well, if it was what he thought it was then things could get very interesting, very fast. Funnily enough it was based around the same kind of object as he was mainly interested.

Hopefully that particular brand of demon wouldn’t get involved, at least not before Phase II fell into place though, it would be really unfortunate if anything like that happened. Worlds changed and sometimes you didn’t even know it.

The lawyers wouldn’t be pleased – or understanding – if anything got in the way. Then again if the whole world did change… perhaps there would be no more lawyers.

It was too much to hope for, he supposed. You might up in a world without shrimp, or any idea what a shrimp might have been, but no lawyers… they’d have taken precautions against that. Besides he’d heard that, in some realities, the function of the lawyers was served by the clergy. What could you do? The lawyers represented as primal a force as he did. Their kind, like chaos, would always find a way.

Anyway, there was no sense in thinking about or worrying about what might be. By their nature such demons as the one he’d found evidence of were unpredictable in the extreme. Unpredictable because they relied upon the wishes of others. Sometimes undetectable. This hint of its presence wasn’t proof, but a valuable warning all the same.

Back to the witches. At their age he’d already been causing trouble for a few years and here they were ‘keeping the peace.’ Did they have no idea what it meant to be young and free? They should be making best use of it. At least Ripper had had his wild years before he became all goody two shoes. These girls… well, he supposed that actually they did know what it was to be bad, but still…

Now, at his current age, he’d been causing trouble for a lot longer of course. Nearly all things were linear. He’d been serving chaos for longer than they’d been alive in fact. He knew how to cause what other people regarded as ‘trouble’ pretty well by now – in ways they’d probably never even dreamed of. And for aims they might never have considered. Most people didn’t think as he did, and if they had considered it most people wouldn’t understand it anyway.

Some, the half-educated ones, thought he was an anarchist.

Not at all.

Certainly he was a freelancer – but that was just to support his own plans. You couldn’t exactly have an organised and self-sustaining society of Chaos Worshippers – it was more than a slight contradiction in terms. Fundraising therefore became the responsibility of the individual, at least for as long as a society based enough on rules to sustain currency was around. Also he really didn’t know how many people like him there were. People with beliefs like his own.

Why would they ever want to communicate with each other anyway, let alone count?

There weren’t many – but he believed it was still more than anyone might have guessed, given all the inexplicable things that happened in the world. The point was that they, the witches, would never expect him to do what he did here. Ripper would, of course, which was why he hadn’t been to pay the Giles family a visit just yet. He certainly didn’t want to force a confrontation with the witches though – in fact he was expressly required not to do so. The witches were all but untouchable.

Technically, he supposed, just in any way that would result in a fatality or the failure of what the people who had written his contract were trying to achieve. Most especially he wanted to avoid a fatality that saw his own name in the obituaries – that was his own rule number one. Pretty much his only rule, he wasn't a big believer in rules but he wasn’t willing to downgrade that to a guideline.

Under those restrictions it was definitely better to start small – but to make that small deed have a deeper and wider significance in the world – and then to work upwards from there. Small things went unnoticed, or at least unsuspected, and even in a town with such a boring climate as Sunnydale there could be such a thing as a snowball. The next larger thing wasn’t so much bigger than this was and he hoped it would slip by them too… And before they knew it, if that continued, it would be too late for them to do anything about the larger plans which the rest were there to conceal.

Not to mention his own little touches which he liked to throw in for free. An added bonus to a town with an acute case of dullness.

There were, after all, things he didn’t want to disturb or alert – not just the witches – so he needed to be a little more careful about what he was doing, but there were rituals that would detect magic and other active rituals over a wide area - say about the size of a California town. This was what he had used to find out about them and about the other potential threat.

Of course, the first thing this had showed him were his own rituals. He brushed them aside knowing exactly what they were and what they were for. Nothing to be learned there, and knowledge was the key to all things. Knowledge and a charming smile.

Knowledge, a charming smile and a snappy dress sense.

He was, rather admirably he thought as he took in the traces of magic, focused on what he needed to do and indeed was required to do in order to live up to the terms of his contract. Still… other than his magic there were a few other things out there. Some of which he’d known about from prior visits and some… he hadn’t. There was some vooduon, which was a little far from home, but not at all what he was looking for and had been here a while. Still it might be worth checking out later – he hadn’t seen anything like that in person since Haiti in nineteen seventy-five. Perhaps the priest would have some new tricks he could learn – or steal.

A hint of some native American magic, but no more than that. As if it was… buried or hidden some how. This whole area had been inhabited by a tribe prior to the founding of the town, so it was hardly surprising a very spiritual people remained here in some way.

And there was also the one he was very wary of. One… Well, it was something else he hadn’t seen for a while but was a lot more serious than a Vooduon priest. He might have to check that out one day. When he found he needed something to do. He had tended, with his history, to risk attracting one from time to time… Vengeance Demons. Though right now all he was detecting was the amulet that was often the key to their power. There was almost always a vengeance demon attached to those amulets – after all who would give that kind of power up willingly?

It wasn’t what he was here for though and they weren’t the kind of demons he toyed with or stole from.

Also… there was someone he hadn’t seen for rather a long time. It made sense he’d be in Sunnydale though.

He continued his magical survey of the town. Ah. He was getting rather closer now. Two, no make that three, protection spells in locations which tied up with where he would have expected. Powerful and complete. They were well protected from his meddling too.

Obviously a protection spell couldn’t be vulnerable, that would make it essentially pointless. He was sure it would be a real challenge to unpick. That was the thing about protection spells – they were always protected from meddling. He wasn't sure, precisely, what these were for, but he could guess. He might actually have used something very similar himself, he mused as he examined as much of the spell matrix as he could sense, at least if he hadn’t already got himself onto the side of the vampires that were shortly going to return to Sunnydale.

Fortunately he didn't need to do anything about those protection spells. He liked a challenge, something to stretch him, but only when he had to. And right now he didn't have to.

Yes, there it was again – what he wanted… Within the spell it showed as a powerful orange light, one which he brought to the heart of his perception now. This was what he was looking for. This was what he needed to deal with in order to bring those vampires back to town and fulfil the first part of his obligations under the contract.

The pendant was such a little thing both in physical size and apparent consequences – and little was how he wanted to start out – but it was capable of having such a big effect. Both in the past and in the future. He never failed to be amazed by the magic. Here it was, visible to him, the pendant he’d seen Miss Maclay wearing but within his perceptions though she was miles away. This was what had kept her alive all of these years? This was what had chased the vampires out of Sunnydale and half the major cities in the United States?

No. Probably not ‘just’ that – but it would certainly have helped her a lot. Had she had this tool from the start? When she was learning how to do what she had done? It didn't matter except that she might already know what to do if she didn’t have it available to her. Even if she had to relearn the lesson, she was going to grow to understand something, that dependency was a very bad thing – if she was dependent on it. And that self-reliance was a necessary skill to possess, but he was sure she knew that already. If you couldn’t rely on yourself then there was absolutely no one out there for you.

Now that he had been able focus on it and to study it in detail, if not in person then through the effects of his ritual of discovery, he could see just how her ritual had formulated the power of the pendant. It was clever work he had to admit – especially if she’d had it for as long as her Wolfram and Hart file indicated – performing this kind of ritual at the age she had been then… Pretty impressive. In an amateur kind of way at least. It indicated a great deal of promise, which she’d fulfilled, rather than actual technical brilliance. He would have been more elegant and less masochistic about it but… impressive all the same. It served her purpose admirably.

He could see how she’d wrapped the tendrils of power around and through the stone that formed the basis of the physical object. Stone was, of course, hardwearing and durable in the reality they chose to inhabit. She’d even managed to turn it into a minor fashion accessory – though it wasn't really to his tastes – and yet she hadn’t realised, or cared, that stone gave her only physical durability.

Probably because it was always intended to be a magical object.

He wouldn’t, personally, have chosen stone for the ritual though. The natural, yet magical, properties of the stone were far easier to manipulate than attempting to impose a whole new matrix on it. It made what she’d achieved more impressive but not necessarily better. It would have taken a lot of effort but wasn’t the most impressive end result.

He’d have to agree that, certainly, a flower would have been easier though it wouldn’t have served her long-term requirements. Wood was a nice “in between” in terms of physical durability and ease but again perhaps not as durable as she’d needed it to be – more attuned to the destruction of vampires though – for obvious reasons. Personally, he’d have grown a crystal and worked his ritual into the new creation from its very beginnings. Permanent, doing exactly what he needed, durable and still stylish.

Stylish for a girl anyway. It wasn't exactly manly.

He’d always been rather envious of what the ladies could get away with in terms of wearing items that might not have been… terribly masculine. In ritual terms at least. Feathers, just for example. He’d gotten strange looks the last time he’d walked down a street with feathers in his hair.

He wasn’t sure it had matched his complexion somehow.

He was more than just impressed. She’d overcome the difficulties… and as he ‘looked’ at it he supposed that, maybe, she’d been working with a known quantity rather than making it as hard for herself as he’d first thought. She’d hadn’t selected any old stone had she? She’d taken a pre-existing pendant, a stone one at that, and worked her magic on it.

It wasn’t how it was carved or polished in the way that had caught his eye in the first place. It might have been that there was some sort of power in the stone prior to what she’d done, but if there had been then it had been pretty weak, and was long gone by now. Swamped by the matrix she’d forced upon it to do what she needed it to.

She hadn’t protected it though, for whatever reason. The protective wards he’d detected over larger areas, which by the style also seemed to be her handiwork, had all been guarded against someone else’s ritual interference. They had to be – they were targeted at demons and creatures that might have access to magic as much as they had been directed at any vampire. Demons might have been able to try and defeat her magic in ways vampires never could.

At least they never could without help. Help he was providing. He’d be a big surprise to them, he was sure.

The pendant though – that was purely a vampire detection device, at least so far as he could tell from this examination. Vampires were dead things almost entirely lacking the ability or inclination for actual magic. She’d never have dreamed – when she’d made this – that someone, someone human, would cooperate with them or choose to attack her ritual, her pendant. He wouldn’t have considered it himself – unless he’d been the one doing it.

Or his evil doppelganger if such a thing existed.

Possibly that should be his good doppelganger because most people would consider him an evil-doer.

Still, enough ruminating, it was time to get to work. He rather hoped, for her sake, she wasn't wearing the pendant as he completed the ritual or else there might well be a rather nasty scar – as well as a little more pain than she’d usually expect. On a man a scar was something that could be worn with pride. On a young lady… Well, burns were never pretty to behold. If she took it off fast enough there might not be any permanent damage though. He had no interest in hurting or marking her – but if that happened, so be it.

Had he been twenty years younger and, well, lets face it of the fairer sex, he might have fancied a closer look at her neck. Before it got all burned up…

Pain, unlike scars, was something he went out of his way to avoid when he could. It was funny – he tended to have to endure quite a lot but just couldn’t seem to change his ways to avoid it. He just had to stick around and admire his own handiwork. It was always getting him into trouble and trouble so often involved pain, especially when Ripper was involved.

Tomorrow for example he knew he was just going to have to track her down and see whether she had been wearing it as he’d done this. One thing he was sure of, she’d take it off pretty fast. It would burn. That couldn’t be helped. It was the only way to deal with it’s destruction.

“Jilo – Disrupter of Reality…” It was time to finish some things off and to get some other things started.

----------------------------------

Her ears had been burning for a while now.

The one problem with sign-language, at least when you were in another room to the people using it, was not being able to make out what was being said. Even if it was about you, and she was pretty sure it was. You weren’t being paranoid when people really were talking about you. Tara had popped her head around the door to the living area more than once in the last twenty minutes or so and each and every time Toni and Willow had both looked up.

Which wasn't a sign of guilt per se, but the way they did it…

All innocent with their hands frozen in whatever words they’d been engaged in at the moment Tara chose to do that. But words which were very neutral too.

It was a very suspicious innocence – though not obviously false in a way she could call them on without appearing to be truly paranoid.

It was the sort of movie innocence that said ‘Don’t be silly Tara, why would we be talking about you?’ It was the sort of innocence she had to believe was patently false, even if she couldn’t prove it to their satisfaction. How could she believe in the innocence when she knew Willow as well as she did? Willow was well-capable of mischief. She had ‘capability for mischief’ etched into every bone of her body… Miss Kitty was often the victim of Willow’s mischief – ‘who moved the catnip toy’ being the favourite game she’d play on their cat.

Actually, Tara believed that Miss Kitty just humoured Willow out of some feline affection. The cat also knew how much Willow loved to be played with too. It was just Willow usually needed a co-conspirator to bring out the best in her when it came to mischief with people rather than cats. Typically, and until recently, that co-conspirator had been Jenny…

And now there was Toni too.

Not that Jenny and Willow had stopped playing their little tricks on her either, but Toni was right here in the apartment with them. Jointly formulated tricks and teases could become apparent at any time – except in the bedroom which Willow still held sacrosanct… Tara wondered if perhaps Willow feared bedroom located reprisals? Willow hated to be tickled… and Tara knew all the best places to do that to her. She knew lots of other things as well. As always there were definite limits to how far Willow would go in there.

And Tara herself had never been averse to playing a trick or two, when the time and mood was right, but…

The addition of the younger woman to their household – even needing them to get into setting up that household in fact – had pretty much decimated the old ‘balance of power’ between them. Willow didn’t wait for the right Tara-moment to try something. Instead she would feed off Toni’s enthusiasm. And vice versa. The old balance of power had been broken down to the point Tara felt she had less and less…

But it was only because she let the two of them get away with it.

And she had no illusions about why Willow was doing it… if she was actually consciously doing it at all. It was making them all gel together. It was having fun. It was making sure Toni felt she had an ally being as Tara, by natural virtue of her personality, seemed to be the one who had to lay down the laws around here.

At least it would have started that way – now, a few weeks later, it was possible Willow was just enjoying herself too much to stop.

So there were all of those reasons, all of those things, and this time, for Willow, it was also avoiding doing chores she didn’t like to do.

Which took her back to the kitchen. So it was that Tara was finishing up the dishes alone. After clearing up the dinner table alone. And the fact they’d been eating lasagne with both cheese and pasta heavily nuked to the edges of the bowls, which meant they required lots and lots of scrubbing, had nothing to do with the timing of the bet. Nor did the fact that Willow hated the bits of burnt cheese which floated in the water as she scrubbed. Nope, that was nothing to do with it.

Yeah, right my love.

This was the price of losing a bet. Okay – that was fine. Tara was a big girl. She could make her bets and live with them. Even if there was something slightly eggy about the smell of it. But what a bet to lose! Willow’s fingers were faster than hers?

She thought now what she’d said at the time. Losing hadn’t changed it at all. Gimme a break.

Okay – now she had to admit Toni’s fingers just flew, though the younger woman was good enough to slow down for them until she got excited or agitated, but Willow’s fingers?

Toni had been communicating with her fingers for practically her whole life, Willow on the other hand…

Willow certainly had talented fingers. Tara knew just how talented in ways Toni never would… But Willow being faster than her with them?

Tara strongly suspected foul play. She might not have done apart from three little things.

First – Willow’s carefully drawn up rota, which it fell to Tara to enforce much as her Dad had done back home, but with kinder words, clearly said that this was Willow and Toni’s night to clear away and do the dishes. Interesting night for a bet huh?

Two – The dinner was lasagne, which they all knew would be baked as if welded to the dishes by the hot oven. They didn’t mind though because it tasted lovely and eventually everyone would get a turn at cleaning those dishes. Floating, nuked cheese included.

Three – Toni and Willow had been thick as thieves before, during and now after dinner. And they’d leapt into the bet pretty easily too. Toni an eager judge, rather than remaining carefully neutral.

Nor was Tara quite sure how losing a bet to, and with, Willow resulted in Toni getting out of her part of the chores as well. Willow had suggested making the judge a beneficiary of the bet though, and now Tara was thinking it was all part of the plot. Toni’s pay-off for suggesting Willow had the faster fingers in what had pretty much been a dead-heat. At least it had been in Tara’s opinion.

Sit down dinner was something that had taken a while to get used to – they probably still were getting used to it. After nearly four years in dorms both she and Willow had only really got to sit at a table to eat together when they either went down to the dorm canteen, out for dinner or were at Jenny and Rupert’s or Ira’s. If they’d cooked for themselves they’d pretty much been sat on the bed eating it from their knees. Kneel down dinner wasn’t what anyone had in mind.

Once they’d moved back into the apartment, to have more room for Toni, there was a table and everything. Having those, something inside Tara said they really should be sitting down together. As much of a family as they could be. They weren’t Toni’s family of course, but they were each other’s and part of the responsibility – and how it had been explained to them – was making the younger woman feel that she did still have a family. At least in the sense that there had to be structure in her life – and it was something Tara appreciated. Sit down dinner had always been a part of the structure of her family life back home.

It was something she really had missed actually – even before Toni came to stay with them. Their lives had been pretty chaotic and unstructured – despite their best efforts – as there was always something else to be done. She felt… well, now they were sitting down every night, when they weren’t elsewhere anyway, for a proper dinner that they’d usually cooked themselves – and doing chores too… Tara felt like she was in a family in the classic sense.

She hadn’t really felt like that since she and Willow had left the farm.

She and Willow, obviously, were as close as anyone had probably ever been to anyone else. They were family. They knew, and it had been said many times, that they were both a part of the Giles family too. And there was Ira of course who was a new father for Tara. But… living in dorms didn’t have the trappings of being a family and she’d never known how much she’d missed that. At least not until she’d got it back to it – and she had Toni to thank for that in many ways.

She’d never wanted to spend time here once she came back to Sunnydale because… well she supposed it was because it held a lot of memories of the old days. Another Willow… and a living together that had definitely not been ‘family’ at all. But… the memories were there anyway. This place didn’t really mean any more or less than the whole town when it came down to it. It was just a place where different things had happened.

And…

She was actually glad the Mayor had left this to her. It had given them the chance to help Toni and it had given them all a better life than they’d had back in the dorms.

Along with the chance to need to get up half an hour earlier to make it to early morning lectures which was sometime tricky after a long night… hunting.

Or whatever else they might have been doing.

But, all in all, the apartment was proving to be a blessing. Just one thing they actually had to thank the Mayor for… apart from, not so inadvertently, setting up the circumstances that had seen she and Willow meet.

Though Tara knew they would have done anyway. Somehow. Somewhere.

It was fate… No option. No choice. But he’d brought her to Sunnydale. That was how it had happened for them. Since then she’d pretty much, and happily, devoted her life to Sunnydale – as well as to Willow. She couldn’t be unhappy about it, even if she felt she should be unhappy about anything he’d touched.

This had never been his place though – despite him giving it to her – it had always been her place. It had had been where she’d kept secrets from him, which just went to prove it. What she’d done here had always been her choice and her weakness and she couldn’t blame him for any of that. Plenty of other stuff he’d done, but not for that.

And so here they were.

Here, where there was a table and chairs and everything. Where sit down dinners had quickly become a must. Well, when she’d decided they were a must anyway. And Toni had been training herself, pushing herself pretty hard with the running, so it wasn’t like junk food was likely to be requested was it? They got to eat properly because Toni knew more about nutrition than either of them did.

And how did you sign while you were eating?

So Toni was not only a healthy option but they also got to appreciate your food mood more and they paused to sign – not even cutting up the next mouthful. With lasagne that was doubly good – the way they prepared the dish it was really, really hot. It needed to cool some before you put too much in your mouth. Besides, talking with your mouth full wasn't such a sin anymore – though Tara, a victim of her Mom’s chiding as a child, still tried to enforce that little rule too. Even if it made no sense to Toni. It just struck her as rude somehow to do it.

Recently though, any mention of ‘rude’ pretty much led to, at best, knowing looks from Toni and at worst the definite feeling that the young woman was reading ‘implications’ into her words.

And that was never what Tara or Willow really meant.

It might have started out as a defence mechanism or something. Toni turning it around to avoid being ‘told off’ not that it had really happened or needed to. Then it was like it became a way for her to reply. Everyone made mistakes – especially when they weren’t used to people and how far they could go with them. Sometimes Toni had said and done things that went too far beyond what Tara and Willow were comfortable with. Or at least had been comfortable with. Toni was pushing their verbal, or signed, thresholds.

Sometimes, she was sure, they went too far with Toni too. No one had got too mad for more than a few moments, but she couldn’t pretend that they hadn’t had to figure each other out at the start.

And she couldn’t pretend they weren’t quite well along with that by now.

Witness the fact Willow and Toni had made their little alliance ‘against her’ tonight.

Again.

It was a good sign.

And the little teases Toni felt comfy enough to make against both of them now. Like them being ‘rude.’ Thinking about it Tara thought it came from the one time they’d tried to, and thought they had to explain, they were together… a couple. They’d got precisely nowhere, and still the word ‘rude’ had come into it. Before Toni had made it perfectly clear she was well aware of them and knew, in theory, what they were doing with each other when they were alone as well as the notion of being in love and a couple.

When they were being ‘rude.’ How had that word got in there? She couldn’t remember how a conversation that had nothing to do with ‘rude’ had come to it.

And so it was that talking, or signing, with your mouth full had become ‘impolite.’ ‘Rude’ was now, in the nicest way, what she and Willow sometime did together. They’d even started using it themselves. ‘Wanna get rude?’ had prefixed a recent night of passion. It was in their vocabulary now. They could all spot the smiles on each other’s faces before they’d even started to sign the word.

Especially with a sign like that… The fingers… Rude…

A little playful teasing was actually a good thing – it showed that Toni was as comfortable with them, and just as importantly they with her, as say Jenny or their other friends. Well, getting there anyway.

Tara was just glad that they were getting there. Getting to being okay together.

It wasn't easy by any means but getting to know a person often wasn’t - that was just the way things were. People were different and Toni was no different from anyone else.

Willow wasn’t an issue for Toni.

‘Them’ – she and Willow – certainly wasn’t an issue for Toni.

Tara herself was only rarely an issue… maybe once a week now. At worst. Which was good when you were talking about a teenager and her only live-in authority figure. It was all pretty good now. Pretty good.

Except when the woman she loved and the girl staying with them ganged up on her in a grand conspiracy to get her to do the worst set of dishes of the whole week all on her own. She didn’t mind that much. There had been a time, alone, when there hadn’t been another person she could talk to – let alone joke with. Or take a joke with.

Or be the butt of a joke with.

And back home… She’d had to do the chores there. She was used to the work. She didn’t really mind that. She just wasn't used to being outmanoeuvred by Willow.

Definitely better to have jokes from Toni than hostility though, Tara mused as she put another plate on the drainer. This wasn’t and never had been a power play or anything like that. Tara was sure they were just having fun at her expense. Just because something wasn't quite clicking didn’t mean there was anything much wrong between she and Toni.

She hoped there wasn’t anyway.

And she had only lost after accepting the bet in the first place. It was her own fault for either not being decisively quick fingered enough and/or for failing to spot the deceit in the first place. She’d just have to develop undeniably fast fingers now. She’d have to practice that and make sure next time there couldn’t be any doubt about who the winner was.

She couldn’t help wondering whether Willow would enjoy that new speed or if she would prefer the slower more languorous version… Silly question. She knew her love’s tastes well enough by now. What she didn’t realise, for a good few… what was it seconds or minutes? Whatever… she hadn’t noticed until something caught her eye that she was… practicing already. Unconsciously.

Just less with the spelling that the bet had been about, and more with the… finger action.

Tara Maclay, in rubber gloves, at a sink full of warm water demonstrating her… technique on a glass she was supposed to be washing. Daddy would’ve had a fit. So would Willow, but for very different reasons.

And what was Toni going to think?

Obviously she had to be there. Being as the younger woman was the one who’d caught her eye and was stood in the doorway watching her. It took Tara more than a moment to stop. Instead she simply slowed her already Willow-favoured pace until eventually she had actually stopped with the finger action entirely.

And only then, when she was completely still at the bowl and her face was hot because of more than just the steam from the hot water in the bowl, did she actually turn to the person she knew was going to be Toni. It had to be Toni because where would the embarrassment be in it being Willow? Murphy’s law, she was a big believer.

*What are you doing?* Toni asked.

Tara withdrew her fingers from the glass and put it on the drainer. *Washing a glass?* she tried to say with the rubber gloves on without flicking water everywhere.

*Right.*

There was something long and drawn out about the way Toni signed that which approximated the way Willow might have said it to her.

*I’ve seen washing glasses. I’ve done it too. I never thrust my fingers into the glass like that. Not over and over anyway. I’m pretty sure that part of the inside was all clean already.*

Tara just shrugged. What else could she do? She’d got carried away in the moment when Willow and fingers had been in her mind – sure she had – but what was she going to say about it?

*Willow likes it like that?* Toni asked.

Willow… really did… when they… but was she supposed to say so to this teenager?

She could have said ‘yes.’ She could have said ‘no.’ What she chose to say reflected, she liked to think, a return to composure. *I’ll never tell* She smiled at the frustration on Toni’s face just then. *What’s up?* Tara asked her changing the subject as casually as she could.

And Toni let her – despite her frustration – which was also good.

*I thought I smelled something,* the younger woman told her, sniffing the air, trying to locate whatever it might have been. *I thought the oven might still be on.*

*Well, it’s not in here, unless it’s a pine fresh scent,* Tara told her. *The burnt cheese smell is all gone.* She sniffed herself, and then she thought that Toni might actually be right. Something did smell as if it was burning and it wasn't cheese they’d nuked to the dishes either.

*Willow* she said, then realised she wasn't actually saying it out loud at all. Sometimes you just had to shout, even in this apartment, otherwise what else could you do? “Willow?” Could the TV be smoking? She hadn’t seen that for years, but once upon a time it had seemed to happen a lot back home. More to the point fire was her element.

*She’s watching TV,* Toni told her. *Not… you know.* Toni trailed off, Tara knew the girl was aware of her feelings about magic. Never in the apartment. Never around Toni. Never anything dangerous like fire.

At least unless it was really necessary.

Which didn’t mean there hadn’t been anything earlier that could have still been smouldering. But… There was just no way Willow would ever do anything like a fire spell in the apartment. Or even in town most of the time – not unless things were really bad. The lasagne and dinner had been good – and definitely not fire-spell worthy.

Could it be the electrics maybe, if it wasn’t anything here in the kitchen or the TV Willow and Toni had been watching?

*Come on* she said as she headed for the door. It wasn’t in the kitchen, whatever it was, or the living area where Toni had come from and Willow still was. They’d have spotted it.

“What is it?” Willow called from there.

“Toni smells something, something burning,” Tara shouted back, fingers flashing as she translated for Toni.

That got her love’s attention all right. Willow was very much responsibility girl in her own way. She’d made sure she memorised the fire alarm instructions for every room she had lectures in at college. Willow knew just where to go. “Fire?” Willow asked in both speech and in sign as she came into the hallway to meet them. “The alarm hasn’t gone off…”

“I don’t know,” Tara replied. “We should check though.”

Willow headed for the bathroom and Toni, still sniffing the air, for their bedroom – which just left Tara with Toni’s room. Willow was already on the way back to her before she’d even checked all the sockets in Toni’s room – which was a bit messier than she would have liked it to be.

Not messy enough to be a problem though, which was all that counted. Not everyone was as neat as she’d been raised to be. Actually, Toni was just kind of normal.

Willow came into the room and touched her arm. There was no need for words. Willow hadn’t found anything. She hadn’t found anything. It could be coming from outside or from –

And then there was a stamping of a foot that got their attention. Vibrations in the floor… They, like Toni, could feel them. Tara was pretty sure the lady downstairs could feel them too. Toni had found something – and when it came to things burning, finding something wasn’t necessarily a great thing.

But better than not finding it at least.

They hurried to their own bedroom to find that Toni was inside the doorway and the smell was much sharper, much more acrid, than it had been in any other room in the apartment – if not enough to trigger the smoke alarm. And the cause was pretty obvious too – even if Toni hadn’t been staring and pointing at it already.

No fire – which was good – but there might be soon if looks were anything to go by.

It was her pendant. It was hung over the lamp, by the bed, as it nearly always was when she wasn't using it. It was like a tradition. She’d been hanging it over that lamp for a long, long time now. She’d even left it there when she’d stopped using it. Living in dorms it had been shoved in a drawer out of sight, out of mind, but still available.

She’d only picked it up when things had come to a head in town – when they’d found Toni and knew that there was more going on with the vampires – hidden stuff she should have known about and which the pendant could reveal to her. And once a week or so now she went out with it, just to make sure they couldn’t hide from her. Nice, irregular, hunts with the pendant – just so they couldn’t figure out a better way to hide.

But maybe they’d just found a better way to hide now.

The pendant, which had originally belonged to her Mom before she’d charmed it, wasn’t… well, it wasn’t in good shape. It was kind of smoking, obviously really hot and it… it wasn't still either. Willow looked at her, she at Willow. What was up with it? Clearly neither of them knew.

It was just a little ritual, the one which had formed its power, nothing that should backfire like this – and why now anyway?

What was she going to do to stop it? Whatever ‘it’ was.

Her gloves… They were still covered in water and foam, they were dripping on her bare feet dripping, but still covered. Enough to… maybe cool it down. She focused on the gloves, or more on the water that coated them, lifting every droplet and splitting it into the finest mist she could focus on sending it towards the pendant. The smoke was inhibited and discoloured by the mist as she wrapped it around the pendant.

And…

She waited listening to the sounds of the effects of heat on the pendant and on the lamp.

Until the lamp exploded. Willow could probably tell her about the physics, it was probably something to do with expansion and contraction though. Hot and cold. Things moving too fast or too slow. Too much or too little. Over stressed.

That lamp was never going to move again – not that it had been moving very much in the past, unless they picked it up or knocked it. Sometime a foot or a hand had flung out…

She’d always liked it though, despite the lack of action. And it wasn’t as if the mist had stopped the pendant at all. The water had been boiled off and it was still really, really hot. It was actually still getting hotter. It was starting to glow and not in a magic way – even though this was obviously something to do with magic. The legacy of her own or someone else’s. It shouldn’t have been have been reacting this way if the magic was anything to do with hers. She could feel… something. But this wasn’t time for feeling; this was the time for doing something about it.

“Baby?” she asked.

Willow nodded, took the cue to reach out with her own magic. And the pendant, already starting to scorch the bedside table, was up in the air and safe from… Well, safe from burning stuff or setting fire to anything. Or making things explode. Tara looked to Toni, who was staring at the floating, red hot, stone, and stamped her foot. The young woman turned back to her and clearly wondered why her attention had been requested.

Tara smiled what she hoped was a reassuring smile – even though she didn’t know what was going on – and motioned for Toni to get out of the way. *Hot pendant coming through, Toni.*

Now that things were kind of under control and Willow was able to do something with it, Tara let herself focus on just what was going on here. This was her pendant. It had never given her any trouble – and though it felt like it was burning her skin to signal a vampire’s presence – it certainly didn’t get hot. Anyone else would feel nothing more than their own reflected body heat. There was nothing there to get hot – it was just a stone. Nothing special about it apart from the vampire detecting properties and the fact it had belonged to her mother. That was all there was to say about it.

Until now when it had decided to return to its natural igneous state. Or so it seemed.

“Erm…Where do you want to… ahhh… take it baby?” Willow asked, her eyes fixed on the pendant. Willow wasn’t going to take a chance on losing control of it.

*The bathroom,* Toni said without having heard the question. But what other question was there for Willow to ask?

Toni was right. Lots of water in the bathroom – ceramic tiles and sinks that wouldn’t catch on fire. Tara nodded and Willow started toward the door, bringing the pendant around in the air in front of her. Except…

Willow stopped.

Tara stopped.

And Toni ran into the back of her and she ran into Willow… Just as she felt it, something Willow was clearly aware of too. A surge… Power. Magic. From… She didn’t know where it was from. It felt like the spell she’d done to anchor the power to the stone in the first place… But, it was very different too. Even as she sensed the power it was there and then it was gone again…

The surge… It rocked her backwards. She felt herself falling towards Toni who must have caught her and steadied her because she couldn’t remember or figure out how she stayed on her feet otherwise. And Willow…

As soon as she was back from… well, wherever that surge had taken her, no matter how momentarily, Tara could see her baby was in trouble. Perhaps it was because she was in direct – albeit magical – contact with the pendant but… Something rippled through her. It was in the pendant and then it was in Willow. This glow… and this time the glow was magical and nothing to do with heat.

The pendant began to wobble in the air. Tara knew Willow was losing her grip – right above the bed too – but she couldn’t do anything about it. For some reason she couldn’t focus on it at all to take the magical burden.

And then it was too late. The pendant had dropped towards the bed and Willow was falling the other way. Willow was… She was still a bit ropey after feeling sick a couple of days ago – though she’d denied it – and now she was trying to do magic. Tara knew she should have done it, but Willow was better – more accurate – in the air. It was her element. She had a more delicate control that was less likely to burn their home out.

Tara didn’t have to think twice. She went to grab her love, she’d think about the pendant later. So the bed sheets would be singed.

But Toni was thinking about the pendant now.

Tara cried out, uselessly but it was pure reflex, “No Toni!” She could see that the girl was going to try and catch it in her hand… That was Toni’s reflex – not to let it fall on the very combustible bed. A good reflex but it was going to get her hurt. Badly hurt.

She hoped Toni would miss, be too late… Be a bad judge of the fall… She didn’t want to think about what a red-hot stone was going to do to Toni’s hand.

No such luck. Toni judged it perfectly, just as well as Tara judged grabbing Willow before she could hit her head on anything as she fell. And there…

There was no cry of pain from the girl. There was nothing but a grunt as Toni hit the mattress and almost bounced off it onto her and Willow, stopping herself with an outstretched foot. But there was no pain.

No one could take that kind of pain in silence. Even if Toni herself would never have heard her own cry.

Which meant there probably wasn't any pain at all.

Which meant…

Everything was okay?

It was over.

“Willow?” Tara asked seeing Toni was fine, holding the pendant up and looking at it. Cold. Not heated anymore. Innocent of everything which had gone before. “You okay sweetie? Tell me you’re okay?”

“I am… I’m, woozy Tara, but I’m okay as long as you don’t ask me to dance. Or walk. Or stand still. It was the… Did you feel it? The-”

“Surge,” Tara completed. “Yeah. It went through me on the way to the…”

They both turned to look at the pendant, which looked like nothing had even happened to it from here.

“It went through me, and when it hit the pendant… I guess it backfired through me as well?” Willow checked.

“I think so baby,” Tara confirmed. That fitted what she’d felt. “You sure…”

Willow answered her with a twist of her head, a brave smile and a peck on the lips. She was okay. Shaken, not stirred as the saying went. That was all. Just a little more shaken than Tara – and Toni, lacking any magical ability, had hardly been affected at all. She’d even caught…

Without being burned. Magical heat, it must have been.

*Go put it in the sink with some water,* Tara signed urgently. She didn't want it starting up again. She watched Toni turn to go, before she paused.

*Does someone want to tell me what exactly is going on?* Toni signed.

Really good question. What had happened to her pendant? Her tool for keeping the vampires down.

****************************



-------------------------


If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in Chance.


------------------------
Katharyn
23. Volumey Text
 
Posts: 3794
Topics: 5
Joined: Sun Apr 24, 2005 1:23 pm


Re: Part 157

Postby tiredsoul » Mon Mar 08, 2004 8:20 am

Ah ha! That’s what you were talking about. See, that’s what I get for looking in the pre-beta version.



Smart Licky :)



Did you know that a portion of this very part is the first I ever saw of this sequel? A long, long time ago.

Quote:
Challenging anyone else’s magic was always a risk to life and sanity. He was rather attached to his life and firmly intended, even in the face of unknown witch’s magic and vampire employers, to keep it as his own. As for his sanity, he was the sanest person he knew.


This shows, to me, just how dangerous Ethan really is. He is sane in so many ways and calculated to the point where he probably makes few mistakes, hence why he is still around and worshipping chaos. He could prove to be a challenge for Willow and Tara.



Things seem to be going well for all at the apartment. Being able to tease each other is a good sign of comfortness.



And just how cool was the burning pendant… okay, not cool in the sense that it happened, but cool in how it happened. Though I find myself sometimes talking to the screen, hoping to give the girls a hint. Maybe my sanity should be questioned.



Thanks Katharyn.



--celia

---------------------------------

When innocence is shattered
... madness is inevitable

www.gotlicky.com

Edited by: tiredsoul at: 3/8/04 7:23 am
tiredsoul
 


Re: Part 154

Postby reyjawk » Mon Mar 08, 2004 4:50 pm

Awesome update! I loved the image of the Pendant burning and the sense of domesticity in the apartment. I am curious as to what effect this will have on Willow since she took the brunt of the power.



Also, I am curious if either girls have thought to mention the strange English magic man to Giles or Jenny.



As usual keep it coming. Good update.



Toni

"Perhaps they confused your desire to be right, with righteousness..." - Super Q.

reyjawk
 


Re: Part 157

Postby Katharyn » Wed Mar 10, 2004 12:39 pm

Hey there guys, thanks very much.



Licky - what are you talking about in your first paragraph?? Curious much?



But yeah, definitely smart licky. Always.



*Smart Licky... that would be a self-guiding lick which can get within millimetres of the target every time? Cool*



So far (in canon) Ethan's mistake has always been the 'getting away cleanly without gloating' part. BUt he is a challenge, I hope, because he offers a different kind of threat.



Writing the loving, the teasing and the snuggling is why I am here - I love to be able to do that.



And yeah, I liked the burning pendant too. Being meaning to do something with that for a while, and in the next part they do...



Thanks licky. Be good.



Reyjawk - As I said to licky, domesticity is a big part of why I write. That stuff flows, the plot stuff takes effort!



The effect on Willow, interesting thought you have there!



And then, right away, you go and have another one as well.



Can you tell I am not about to answer?



*smiles manically*



Thanks very much.



Katharyn

-------------------------




If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in Chance.




------------------------

Katharyn
 


Re: part 156

Postby heraldgal » Thu Mar 11, 2004 11:47 am

So Ethan took away the power of the pendant? Will Tara know, I mean can she sense no more magic in the pendant or will she be a sitting duck for the vampires? Not good if the case there.



The mention of the hellmouth not being used for its potental makes me think Ethan has bigger plans in mind then you have let on.



Thank you for the update.



Cathy.

heraldgal
 


Re: part 156

Postby Katharyn » Sat Mar 13, 2004 1:05 am

Hey Cathy, thanks for the continued support. As with all you guys it means a lot.



Ethan didn't "take away" the power of the pendant as in "he has the power now" but he certainly interfered with it.



The next part, which I post in a few moments, deals with the aftermath of the pendant incident and actually ends in a good way, I think.



Don't get over involved in Ethan and the Hellmouth potential. What he means by that is that, with T/W keeping it under control, it's not being used as it might be. It's not an actual threat.



Or is it?



Depends on what everyone wants I suppose...



Thanks for your feedback, it gave me the chance to tease!



Katharyn

-------------------------




If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in Chance.




------------------------

Katharyn
 


Part 158

Postby Katharyn » Sat Mar 13, 2004 1:08 am

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - Pendant Independent (Part 158)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Reaction to what happened with the pendant.
Disclaimer: I 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. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: This is just another excuse to get to a nice moment for the girls. Don’t you just love that?
Thanks To: All My Brilliant Beta Readers (AMBBR) Kerry (Forrister) who for some reason signed right back up for this fic after seeing the size of the last one. No accounting for madness is there. And Celia (TiredSoul) who should have known better but signed up anyway. *HUGS* and Big Thanks to all of you. This is one of Celia’s and it’s a good job she ferreted out a continuity error because I am sure you would all have been all over it.

The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Pendant Independent

By

Katharyn Rosser



Well now, that had all seemed to go rather swimmingly – all things considered. There had been a definite surge in power at the end, as the matrix of the pendant gave up its unequal battle against the forces he had called to his assistance and to its destruction as a useful object of power. There had been a fight to hold onto its integrity, but he’d done it again and proved once more that integrity was overrated. And this loss of integrity would have consequences, ones that would brighten this dreary little town up again. Nothing would be as safe and predictable as it had been just an hour ago. Because he had done his job and done it well – very well if he said so himself.

So that was ‘brighten’ in the sense of place it under a pall of death once more, but since that was a chaotic, and definitely not very organised, death, for the most part it could definitely be seen to be a positive thing.

At least from his point of view. And his was the only point of view that counted in the end. Everyone else was operating from the erroneous perspective where they believed anything they did would, ultimately, have a lasting value.

A chaotic universe didn’t work that way. His own perspective was one tempered by the viewpoint of chaos as a force. It had been at work at the creation, it would be at work at the end of that universe.

It was pretty likely that others wouldn’t agree with him on the point of a disorganised death being a good one, but did he really care? He would have to say no. Others like Ripper and his friends – particularly if the owner of that little trinket had actually been wearing the pendant at the time – would probably have an opinion which would lead to a kicking of his arse, if they ever caught him. If she’d been burned by it then it might make them a little… miffed. One thing he was sure of was that she wouldn’t have been wearing it for long once his spell started to have its effect. Human instinct was a marvellous thing – what people would do to get away from pain. And in the end, as long as she listened to wonderful, chaotic, instinct, she’d be okay.

It had actually been harder than Ethan had anticipated to accomplish this part of the task, not because Miss Maclay had protected her little trinket which he’d already ruled out, but rather because he’d underestimated the intrinsic complexity of something that had appeared so very simple before – even when he’d examined it. It had been simple to the ritually enhanced naked eye, and perhaps simple to her when she’d performed the ritual – but very tricky to unravel all the same.

The complexity could have even have been hidden from her.

Certainly would have been difficult for her; but seeing the way she’d worked with something he was familiar with had actually been rather instructive in comparative terms. The way she’d constructed the ritual, perhaps without even realising what she was doing, told him something about her thoughts, as well as her deeds. Her deeds were in the file which Wolfram and Hart had laid out to him – with some interestingly placed deleted excerpts – but a file couldn’t really get at her thoughts, nor could meeting her as he had done recently.

Not really.

There was no better way than magic to get to know someone – even if that approach had caused him a few problems in the past. This was an altogether subtler attempt than those bad ones had been. One that wasn’t as likely to result in a beating or other reprisals. He didn’t fancy those results really. She had no reason, yet, to believe it had been him who had done anything to her – even though she knew he was there.

He hadn’t planned to be caught following her. That was unfortunate. Actually it was unfortunate that he’d thought he could get to know her by talking to her. Unfortunate he’d felt arrogant enough to test her abilities by giving her a clue he had been there. The result was he knew he could use magic, but did she have reason to suspect – let alone prove it? She was a good person. She’d want proof before they acted. They all would, except possibly Ripper. Who knew him better? But Ripper didn't know he was here.

He could tell, now that he’d come up against her – so to speak – that she had a true devotion to what she did. Her pendant ritual had been designed for the long term, no easy and quick fix for her there. He often thought of devotion as something akin to obsession, but with a more respectable face than obsession could ever have. He couldn’t recall ever being devoted to anything, obsessed perhaps over some particularly nice ladies, but devotion wasn’t in his character. Unless you counted devotion to chaos and its propagation.

She not only had long term thinking on her side, but she also accepted pain as the price of knowing vampires were close to her. It seemed like there would have been more pain the closer she got or the more of them there were. Killing them, in fact, must have become a way to find relief from that pain – at least back in the old days in Sunnydale when there had been a vampire on every corner.

It just wasn't the same as it had been here then. This had used to be a place where a person couldn’t walk down the street at night without having to fend off a vampire – or in her case kill them. He missed those days when Sunnydale had been a beacon of all that was bad in the world. Quite apart from the fact that he was being chased by his own personal demon the first time he’d come here to guide it towards Ripper instead, he’d always wanted to see this place. The Hellmouth.

And what was it now?

A bright shadow of what it could have been. Almost orderly.

It was a shame really.

A few vampires back around the place should help liven – and darken – things up though, and what he’d done had made that possible, even if Miss Maclay and her partner were likely to account for them anyway. That was all the better because he was on their side… At least nominally. Really, he was on no one’s side but his own – and if he had to admit to sides then his response would depend whom he was talking to, of course. But whom would he have a natural sympathy for?

He was working for vampires, in fear of his life, and here were two witches stood against the world… and they were friends of Ripper, his oldest friend.

How could he do anything but sympathise with them?

He found it interesting that Miss Maclay would suffer pain to hunt the vampires. It reminded him rather of the flagellants. Actually, providing he hadn’t injured her with his spell, she ought to be thanking him for removing the source of that pain from her life. If not her, then certainly the girlfriend. The ex-vampire.

Instead, as usual, he’d probably get blamed. Once they found out about it at least. He came to a town and blame started to attach itself to him like rain falling from the sky. But, he didn’t mind that so much because blame was rather like credit, which was something he could never get enough of. It was recognition of his contribution to the world – which was something he was rather proud of and wanted others to understand.

Still, it wouldn’t be the most prudent course to actually go out and claim the credit. All he could hope for was to avoid the painful aspects of blame, whilst garnering the recognition all the same. Much better to let that recognition come to him naturally like water flowing down hill. Otherwise he might find, once more, that credit was as closely followed by pain as blame was. And pain was something he most definitely didn’t want to seek out.

Or even really appreciate.

Unlike some people. He couldn’t believe that everyone she knew was, presumably, happy about her being hurt by the pendant. Her little friends ought to be thanking him even if she didn’t. He’d been saving her from herself and wouldn’t they see that as a kindness?

Shouldn’t they?

Even if eventually it got her killed – but if that was the route her fate took her then he wasn’t going to interfere...

----------------------------------

*Now, does someone want to tell me what exactly is going on?* Toni signed a little impatiently. She’d had to repeat the question after dashing to the bathroom and back. The stress in the signs was by far the greatest on ‘exactly ’ though.

Willow looked up at the now wet pendant in Toni’s hand. Freshly dunked at Tara’s instruction – though it had seemed to be cool already. After wondering about that, she thought about standing up. What was it with her in the past couple of days? First feeling sick and losing some time in some kind of waking dream, and then almost passing out as magic passed through her like a lightning conductor or something? It hadn’t been a good couple of days for being top-form-Willow.

“Help me up?” she asked Tara whom she seemed to be sat on top of. Her baby had stopped her from hurting herself when she fell and Willow was glad about that. At the very least there would have been a sore butt to add to her list of woes. It wasn't a long list of woes – but it was a list all the same. More than one thing pretty much equalled a list. You could even have a list with just the one item – but not a plural of woe.

All things being equal – if this had been a couch rather than the bedroom floor then this might have been a pose she could have appreciated – at least if she’d given the possibilities some thought. It was close, it was intimate and it was safe. Tara keeping her safe. Always. That was what they did for each other. And a few other things too. Love was… a part of it was keeping each other safe. Part of it was being able to laugh together when you fell on your ass on top of the other. Part of it… was too blooming wonderful for words. She agreed with Rupert’s description wholeheartedly – though he hadn’t mentioned ‘ass.’ Brits like to have ‘arses’ instead of ‘asses’ and he hadn’t used that word either.

Tara gently untangled their limbs and tried to steady Willow as she struggled to her feet with Toni lending her a hand too. All hands gratefully appreciated thank you very much. Hands, support and even Tara shoving her ass was very welcome.

*You sure you’re okay?* Toni asked when Willow was basically upright and could do without the loan of her hands. *You look…* She pulled a face that wasn’t exactly how Willow wanted to look. Sort of an icky face. *In fact you both look a bit…* There was that face again. Yeah, it was definitely an icky face. *You more than Tara though.*

“Thanks so much,” Willow said and signed at the same time. She smiled though, as much to reassure Toni as Tara.

*I was just saying* Toni replied, the girl seemed relieved that she was able to joke. Willow was certainly glad she was able to joke. Joking implied life and nothing being too bad, even if they did have something that made Toni have an icky face.

Tara, conspicuously, hadn’t found a smile to go with Toni’s description – even when Willow had tried to force one. She wasn't in a smiley mood but there were certain things you had to do – including making sure that other people thought you were okay.

And Willow thought she was okay – she just felt woozy. Again.

And still slightly sick, or more… icky, but that was from before. It was still how Toni had shown her she looked. Good call, kid. There was nothing much else wrong with her, except the wooziness and magic could do that to you – even when it wasn't their own.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tara asked her as she struggled to her own feet with Toni’s help again – and once her hands were free, Tara translated that for the younger woman. Even though it wasn't strictly necessary Tara always wanted them to be transparent – Willow agreed with her too. It was very important, not just in the serious matters, but in everything they said in her presence.

Toni knew they were worried about each other. She’d get that. No need to translate everything at this moment – except it really was getting to be a habit now, doing the right thing. So much so that even when Toni wasn't in the apartment they tended to sign as they spoke. It was helping them get better and better at it, increasing their vocabulary too.

Willow sat herself down on the edge of the bed. “I have toes, feet, legs and my head. My stomach is a lot better already and I’m talking with my hands, so everything seems to be working okay,” Willow told them as they looked at her. “You understand my talking hands don’t you? I’m not talking gibberish again, am I? But how would you know what I was asking if I was?”

“No, we understand your gibberish,” Tara promised her.

She held out her hand to Tara who took it and squeezed it gently before sitting down next to her. “Then it’s okay,” she said. “I promise.”

The wooziness would pass soon enough. She could sit, or even lie down…

Yes, until it passed then she might just have to stay here in bed, unable to take the trash out… which was the last thing on today’s list of chores. Trash day tomorrow. That would be a shame now wouldn’t it? She hated taking the trash out. It wasn't so much the act itself as the smell and the little bits of ick that always got stuck right to the part of the bag where you put your hands on. Now there was something, which really made her feel sick. Ick on her fingers.

Tara looked at her and Willow knew she was being gauged. They didn’t lie to each other – not ever – but there were times, in any relationship she guessed, where little reassurances had to be… less than totally accurate. You said you were okay so that your love didn’t have to worry about you, which made you feel worse than you would if you’d told the whole truth. So really it was the truth, because she felt better for being a little less accurate. Or at least she would do.

They both did it, every couple probably did – she knew Jenny and Rupert certainly did.

And they both knew how to spot it in the other one. It wasn’t really lying because they both knew when it wasn't true, deep down, but if you could feel well enough to reassure your lover then you were doing better... Besides they could feel each other – all the time. So when they were ill… it was obvious – sometimes the other was the first to know about the sniffles and warn their partner to get the decongestant out.

So yeah, she was woozy right now, but it was already fading. Tara, looking into her eyes, would know she had nothing to worry about. And just to prove it, when Tara seemed to be happy with what she’d gauged there, Willow kissed her.

And not just a peck either.

More of a… lingering ‘I’m here, I’m okay and nothing’s ever going to get me out of your life,’ kiss. The kind that reassured them about everything and how it was going to turn out.

Okay.

They both broke away at the same moment, knowing it was over. The gentle strand of saliva, which connected them was not one that was going to stretch and stretch… which got icky when it twanged back on a chin… They both turned their heads and looked at Toni, right there next to them, at the same moment.

Their guest was grinning from ear to ear.

Well, at least someone was happy about all this. No. Actually Willow knew Toni was happy about this kiss. It was probably as reassuring to her as it was to them – after all, this had all been fairly freaksome. It wasn't just a quiet night at home they were experiencing. Toni knew who they were, what they were to each other and hypothetically what that could involve. She also knew what they did – with the magic. But since… well, since her Dad, she hadn’t had to really face the reality of that.

This was, all in all, pretty small potatoes compared to some things, which had happened even since Toni had first met them, but it was always… scary biscuits.

But the magic was still new to Toni and the kiss… Well, it had helped all of them it seemed. Which was okay. Good even.

Willow held her hand out towards the younger woman’s, turning it to look at the pendant hanging from the cord. Now it looked… Now it looked like nothing at all had happened to it. It wasn’t scorched or scratched at all. It definitely didn’t look like it had been literally red-hot a few minutes before. Not that it should have been. There was only one thing that should be red-hot in this room and that was the snuggling.

The kissing that Toni had just seen. Lying together on the couch too. Snuggling – that was definitely a private thing and it had taken a little while to realise that they couldn’t always indulge themselves whilst they were watching TV anymore. A while and a slight blush when the autopilot had almost kicked in.

*And I come back to what the heck was that?* Toni signed again.

Here was the proof. Because she and Tara signed what they said, Toni had come to pick up on some of their Sunnydale speech patterns.

“I have no idea,” Willow said quickly, looking to Tara for some sort of theory. It was Tara’s pendant, she’d charmed it and Willow didn’t know all that much about ritual magic as it wasn’t something she’d really had chance to do. They’d sort of covered it, when she’d been learning the tricks of their trade, but then the change had been upon them… The shift to a new magic had come as their perceptions had been altered and that changed how they chose to achieve what they needed to. Now rituals were out and safer, natural, bargains were in.

Willow couldn’t think, apart from the protection spells that now guarded the Giles’ apartment, of the last time she’d actually needed to do a ritual. No, everything had been coming from nature now.

Tara gently took the pendant from Toni and looked at it carefully. As far as Willow could see from here there was no scaring of the leather cord which it hung from – even though it should have been burned to a crisp by that degree of heat. No sign, from here, of anything wrong with it. She turned Tara’s hand so she could see it again too. “It looks completely normal,” she concluded. “Is it?” Just from the feel of it she knew… well, Tara had to be the one to confirm it.

“It’s cold. Inactive. There’s nothing here,” Tara told her.

She sounded a little sad about that, and Willow thought she was supposed to be the one who got excited about the little details. Unless that wasn’t what Tara meant… “No change? So what was with the floating ball of fire.” Floating took a little time to spell out, she had no idea what the sign was. Probably something to do with a waving hand. She’d started out in her signing by guessing what words might be from the gesture which might go with it.

Then it had gotten embarrassing so she’d stopped and waited to be told.

“No, I mean,” Tara tipped the pendant into her hand. “I mean that it’s nothing. There’s no magic. No power. Just nothing.”

She hadn’t been signing that though, she was so absorbed in the pendant and… well, what it wasn't anymore.

Which left Willow to fill Toni in.

*Your pendant was magic?* the younger woman asked her.

“You missed something there, right?” Willow checked. Hadn’t Toni known? Though they’d avoided flaunting the magic before her, and the pendant was hardly flaunting… More like jewellery.

*I think I might have – sorry.*

“It’s our fault – we never told you. But it doesn’t usually do that,” Willow assured her. “The heat and i-m-m-i-n-e-n-t risk of fire, I mean.”

“And it won’t again,” Tara said, returning to sign along with her speech. “It’s just my Mom’s pendant again now.” She looked at it, hanging from her hand for a little longer.

“You mean it no longer detects the-” Willow broke off, looking at Toni, and glad her fingers hadn’t started to form the word. Toni was doing well, and there were no vampires in Sunnydale – at least not in any organised numbers. There was no need to bring them up again and make things worse than the ‘good’ they’d achieved up to now.

“No, not a sausage,” Tara replied sadly, but clearly understanding the topic they’d avoided mentioning.

They sat for a few moments and absorbed that. And Toni stood there watching them. *Why so sad? You do know you can buy sausages at the store right? You don’t need magic to detect them or anything. They label them and everything. Even the aisle sometimes.*

Tara looked at Willow.

Willow looked at Tara.

Sausages?

Oh… What Tara had said. Yes. “Oh, yeah. We know,” Willow said. “It’s just that sometimes the sausages are bad sausages. Evil. Sausages. Sausages which want to… do bad, bad things.”

Tara just couldn’t help a smile coming to her lips – which was good – but Willow hadn’t been making a joke. She’d been trying to dig her way out of the awkward hole that had been opening up around her. “And other… assorted meat products too,” she said slowly. “In fact we should all be vegetarians – to help save the world.” She hoped she was making sense. Signing babble was trickier than saying it – not that she ever planned to say it.

Toni just shook her head and smiled sadly. *Willow, I know you guys hunt vampires every night. Not sausages. Or bad pies. You can say what they are you know.*

Willow flushed red. They’d been too protective. Or had they? Was there such a thing as being too protective, really? There was when you were the child – she’d often thought her Mom was being over-protective when she was being over-bearing too. Too many ‘over’ things. Not that she’d ever argued. Mostly she’d gone along or at least agreed with her Mom. That whole ‘coffee incident’ when Willow had been twelve. Her one rebellion. Her Mom had been sooo right about that one. There were some people who just couldn’t handle caffeine and she was certainly one of them.

But when you were in that kind of parental role… well, Willow was beginning to see the point. There wasn’t enough protectiveness in her mind. She’d seen it develop in Jenny. She’d seen how the teacher had changed. She’d felt it for herself with Jenny’s kids, and she knew Tara had to. Now that they were looking after Toni – well, she’d felt it emerge in herself. She wanted to be protective. It made her feel responsible and it seemed the best thing for Toni too.

Meanwhile, Tara had completely blossomed into a loving-authority figure. It was like she was born to be a Mom; she was so good at it.

Which just added to the whole feeling that was in Willow’s head – the feeling that just wouldn’t go away. Tara could be, they could be, really, really good at this. They were doing pretty damn well so far… for and with Toni. Why couldn’t Tara… just open her heart and her mind to the possibility they could do this for real rather than just for a while?

Would she let them consider it properly and then decide ‘no’ if they wanted to? Couldn’t they even consider it?

Still… losing herself in that thought. Again. It wasn’t going to help.

Sausages and other meat products. She should be thinking about the conversation they were having – not the conversation she one day wanted to have.

“Sorry, Toni,” she said. “We just don’t like to remind you if we don’t have to.” Which was like the dumbest line ever because if Toni hadn’t been thinking about those things they didn’t want to remind her of, before they weren’t trying to remind her… well then, she definitely would be now.

Well done, Willow. Top marks.

Toni managed a little, though sad, smile. *I’m okay.*

Willow looked at her.

*Really. I’m gonna-* Toni let the sentence hang and just pointed towards the living area and then shrugged. The panic was over – and it was down to Toni’s nose they’d found it in time. Before, it really was a panic. So it was full marks for Toni.

Toni leaving had left Willow with her love sat on the edge of the bed, hand in hand wrapped around what Tara said was a now useless pendant. Except it wasn't useless. It might not have a useful future but that didn’t make it entirely useless. It had been useful and now it wasn't as much use – at least not in the same way as it had been.

“It’s like an old shoe,” Willow said after Toni had departed and made her way to the living room and TV.

“Reminding Toni?” Tara guessed and Willow had to admit that phrase had come out of nowhere.

“No silly, the pendant. It’s like an old shoe. Something you are really used to and gave you a lot of good years of… shoeing – ” That didn’t sound right.

“Or possible being worn?” Tara suggested.

“Or that,” Willow had to concede. Tara was always so good at the oral stuff.

“I like ‘shoeing’ though,” her love was quick to add. “It reminds me of horses. It is a word.”

“Because horses have shoes too,” Willow confirmed. And this could just as easily be a story about a horseshoe as it was a person shoe. A shoe was a shoe was a shoe. Except when you were dealing cards from it. But did that have a different spelling?

And a shoe wasn’t a shoe when it was a boot… Baby dyke boots… She remembered that was how she’d first seen Tara… Not that the baby had been in evidence… Or the choices she’d made about her sexuality but… So at the time, not really at all true, but in hindsight so, so baby dyke.

Okay, back on topic… ish.

Or a sandal.

Or a flip-flop.

Or a clog.

Was a clog a shoe or a boot?

Or was it in its own separate category? Was there a clog category?

“Where was I, baby?” Willow asked desperately. She’d been caught out by her own thought process. She was all shoe obsessed now, trying to think when a shoe wasn’t a shoe but that hadn’t been the point at all.

“My Mom’s pendant is like an old shoe,” Tara prompted. There was a little teasing challenge in her tone. She knew it meant a lot to Tara for all sorts of reasons.

“Well, I mean it’s done what you asked it to. Like a shoe would.” Willow felt she was back on safer ground now. But still with the shoes. “It’s like you bought the shoe-”

“Didn’t I get two?” Tara asked.

“You bought both the shoes,” Willow corrected, squeezing Tara’s hand.

“Maybe four if I was actually a horse,” her love suggested.

“There was a sale, now shush.”

Tara grinned at her in spite of being of previously being lost in thought about the pendant.

“So you bought the shoes,” Willow went on, stressing the plural, “and you wore them for, oh say… eight years.”

“That’s a long time for a pair of shoes, or even two pairs,” Tara said, but obviously not missing the reference.

“They’re really comfy shoes,” Willow confirmed.

“My favourites?”

Willow thought about that. “Well, they’re really comfy most of the time, but every so often they tweak…” Okay she was struggling with the metaphor now.

“My toe?”

Willow liked Tara toe… Toes were a good thing. She didn’t want Tara’s toe to be tweaked. This was getting all sad if those tootsies were getting tweaked… Why had she started about shoes? She should have compared it to an old book – where the spine was broken and the pages started falling out. And you had to replace it and get a new copy, which wasn't quite the same even though all the words were identical…

It was too late for the book though. And did she want a Tara metaphor with a broken spine…? Oh no. That was bad.

And so the shoes were tweaking Tara’s toes. But only every so often. “Not all the time – but often enough for people to worry about how your… toe is.”

“You worried about me… my toe?” Tara asked.

“All the time, baby,” Willow admitted. Not that she’d ever told Tara. Tara knew that Willow didn’t like her to wear the pendant, but she probably thought it was going back to their past rather than the… tweaking… that had been going on more recently.

“Toes shouldn’t be tweaked so much,” Willow told her firmly. “It’s bad for you.”

Tara thought about that. “My toe is… fine. I mean I got used to the tweaking a long time ago. You shouldn’t worry about the tweaking. Or my toe… I’ll show you my toe if you like.” Now there was an offer.

“Maybe later,” Willow said and kissed the back of Tara’s hand as she opened it up to take the pendant from her. “But this shoe… I always hated this shoe. Because it tweaked you, and that was a bad thing.”

“It…” Tara paused. “Can we get back to calling it what it is? I’m getting slowed down by the shoe thing.”

“Sure, love,” Willow said. They might have been pushing this a little far. They could always talk to each other – they didn’t need shoes.

Well, okay they needed shoes otherwise they’d keep hurting their feet. But not metaphorical shoes, there were better metaphors. Like the book.

“I needed it, Willow,” Tara told her. “You know that. I still need it. And you know what happens when I put it away too.”

“Hey. No.” Willow wasn’t about to have that. “That didn’t happen because you put it away,” Willow insisted. The limit of Tara’s point was that she might have found the vampires – and their victims – sooner, but there was no guarantee of that. And it wasn’t Tara’s fault. No way. No how. But the vampires, those vampires that had been in the sewers, wouldn’t have just given up. They would have found a way to do what they wanted anyway. Some vampires practically lined up to be killed.

Others… were more dangerous.

Those had been the dangerous ones – the kind that made plans. Plans… was this part of a plan? No. Vampires couldn’t do magic. This was something else. Maybe some sort of magical overload in the area. It was a Hellmouth after all. The point was that there was nothing about the vampires, which was Tara’s fault.

And now the pendant wouldn’t be hurting her any more either.

“Maybe,” Tara said. “Maybe not. It’s kind of a moot question now, I think.” She held up the pendant again, looking at it.

“Are you… thinking of replacing it?” Willow asked. To her it wasn't a bad thing that something that hurt Tara was… Well, it was not going to do it anymore. It was, broadly, good. Sure the pendant was useful – but they were good at what they did. They’d spent years hunting vampires without Tara having to be in pain to do so and it hadn’t always been as quiet as it had been right before they found the ones in the sewers.

They could do without.

They had before. They could again.

Tara paused and Willow knew that it had already crossed her love’s mind. She had been thinking – or maybe just wondering – if she needed to reconstruct the pendant. Willow’s view was simple, no matter what it had done for them, it had hurt Tara. If Tara remade it then it would be hurting Tara again.

She couldn’t be ‘yay-girl’ for that. Though she was sure Tara was leaning towards wanting it – needing it as some sort of reassurance, if not a guarantee.

Sometimes Willow had wondered if Tara felt she wasn’t being successful unless she was getting hurt by it. Through those early, pre-Sunnydale, years Tara had relied absolutely on the pendant. The presence of vampires had pained her almost constantly and that had been relieved of the pain by the death of the vampire.

Success and removal of pain would have been linked in her mind. Almost as if her body would have been trained to link the two.

Willow just couldn’t find it in her to be unhappy that the pain had receded from being a part of Tara’s life. More than that, it had always been a pain they couldn’t share. She’d never been able to take over. The pendant didn’t work for anyone else – hadn’t worked – only for Tara. She hadn’t been able to share that pain – take some of it away and bear it for her lover.

Not that she was like… into pain or anything. Pain was bad. There was no good in pain. Some people seemed to like it, but she didn't get that at all.

Except in the case of… well, if you were in pain then you were, at the very least, still alive – and the pendant had kept Tara alive for a long, long time. It had led her to hidden vampires, helped a lot of people in a lot of different places and alerted her to danger to herself. But Tara would have found a way to do that anyway… And later they would have found a way.

But Tara had found her like that too. Or a version of her, which should never have been in the way of their being together. It had been though.

She remembered that Tara had been wearing the pendant the night that… the first one she remembered, or the demon remembered, laying actual eyes on her. Close to each other… Tara hadn’t taken it off for a long time. It had always been hurting her and the vampire hadn’t cared at all. The vampire had actually kind of liked that. Until it had become too distracting to the play she’d wanted to have…

Okaaay. She was sooo not dwelling in that memory. Especially here. They had… years and years of their own memories to look back to already. And years and years more to come. Which she’d be able to look back to in years and years. Or as soon as they’d happened. Or something…

Toni stuck her head back round the door, her hands soon followed. *So did the vampires kill your necklace?*

Willow hesitated. She’d never even really thought about that till a moment ago, and she’d dismissed the idea pretty quickly – without even mentioning it to Tara. Who’d done what had been done? She looked at Tara – to see what she thought.

“Yes,” Willow said seeing the idea move from Tara’s brain to her so expressive face. She hadn’t thought so, but if Tara was leaning that way…

“No,” Tara said just a heartbeat later.

“Maybe?” Willow wondered. She was about to argue against her own instincts here. This was a Hellmouth after all. Things happened. “Who else had a reason? No one else would. Would they?” The pendant was pretty specific in its uses. Even other demons had no effect on it, and hence no effect on Tara.

“Vampires can’t do magic,” Tara reminded her and told Toni for the first time.

How well Willow knew that. It was actually the reason she’d dismissed the notion just moments ago. More memories from the demon… standing in the room in this very apartment. The living area that was just through the wall. And wanting, willing, a stake to twitch. Now… now she could have flung it through the wall with barely a thought. Back then though, the vampire she remembered being hadn’t been able to do anything.

The vampire hadn’t been capable of magic at all – even though the real Willow Rosenberg was. Even the powers the Master had demonstrated hadn’t been ‘magic.’

Still… There was always the chance they were wrong now, this was a Hellmouth. “As far as we know,” Willow suggested. This was what had made her think there was always the chance.

Tara frowned at the idea. Vampires able to do magic. Willow knew what she meant with that frown. It would change everything.

There was always the chance that they could – that they’d found a way to do it. It was an infinite universe – or, as some theorists would suggest, one of many. There was always a chance.

It wasn’t a happy thought.

If the vampires could do magic or protect themselves from it, then she and Tara might be in a new kind of danger. The whole town might be in danger. But this, what had happened, wasn’t enough evidence. It wasn’t evidence of anything really – not unless they knew how it had happened. She didn’t want Tara rushing off on the basis of that idea alone, even if she’d dismissed the idea outright. “Maybe it just got caught up in a backwash,” Willow suggested. That was a good one. That was the sort of thing that could happen and what she'd thought just a few moments ago. “We’ve seen it before.”

“Maybe,” Tara had to admit sounding dubious. Even her fingers looked dubious as she signed the words for Toni, who wouldn’t know what they were talking about. They’d never really explained the way everything worked to Toni. It had seemed like a bad idea to bring up the subject and it was definitely more detail than Toni would ever need. Toni didn't live their lives – they’d made sure of that. No matter how long she was here she’d never be doing magic.

Willow knew why her girlfriend sounded dubious though… It was too perfect. Too precise. They hadn’t noticed anything else even slightly whacky going on around here, well at least not magically – there had been her wooziness of course, but that was hardly magical.

But hey… It was a Hellmouth. She kept coming back to that. This was a place where whacky didn’t have to be logically cohesive. Whacky could just be… whacky. A place where if it wasn't actually an apocalypse then they were ahead of the curve. “We don’t have to always think the worst,” she said, but she knew it was who they were when it came to vampires.

“Only about them,” Tara promised. “They’re the worst.”

Willow wasn’t going to argue with that. There were more dangerous demons out there, no question about it. When you saw something like a Haxon Beast you knew it was true. There were more organised demons out there too – the Scourge hadn’t been fun at all to get out of town, no matter what it had done for keeping down the local vampire population – but in terms of being worst… Vampires did win hands down for her as well as for Tara. Willow knew, maybe even better than Tara did, just how bad they could be.

As much because they could become a plague, as for anything they actually did.

And then she realised that Toni, sometime during this conversation, had slipped out of the room again. Was it because they’d been talking about vampires? In spite of what she’d told them? Were they upsetting her? Or was this just boring being as she couldn’t be a part of it? Or at least didn’t know anything about it.

“I’ve worn this pendant during some serious magic, sweetie,” Tara went on. “Nothing ever affected it before. No backwash ever had an effect.”

“But,” Willow pointed out logically, “that was your magic. This is something else’s.”

She could see she’d surprised Tara with that. It was something she hadn’t considered. They thought about that for a moment, before Willow had another idea – anything to avoid Tara reforming a new pendant. At least not yet.

Okay, so it was really less of an idea and more of repeat of what she’d been wondering before – of their standard explanation for unexplained, weird, stuff that happened here. “So… maybe it’s the Hellmouth. Very Hellmouthy. Very much giving off the mystical energy, that might have been it.”

“Maybe,” Tara shrugged. “It’s done now.” She appeared to be resolved.

“You’re giving up?” Willow asked, surprised that Tara would just write off, or accept, the explanation without further research. Her girlfriend looked at her as if to say ‘do you really think that?’ “No. No because you don’t do that – the giving up thing. You never do that.”

“We can’t trace that kind of surge,” Tara reminded her. “We tried it before. If we find out what it was, Hellmouth or background count…”

“Then we’ll know,” Willow finished.

A nod from Tara. “And if we don’t,” Tara continued, “Then we’ll just have to live with it anyway. There’s nothing more we can do tonight about this.”

“So, will you remake it?” she asked. Remaking it would seem logical. Tara knew how to do it – it would probably be easier for her now than it had been – would it even need to hurt her now? Couldn’t it hum or something? Perhaps it could play the theme from ‘Bonanza.’ Or was she thinking of the ‘High Chaparral’? Why wouldn’t Tara remake it when she thought she needed it, even if it had to hurt – then wait until then?

“Not in this,” Tara replied, looking at the pendant.

Willow had to stop, make sure that her ears had actually heard what her brain was telling her they had. The pendant was… well, the core of it was still here and Tara needed it – or wanted it anyway. She was really not going to let herself be hurt by it anymore?

Yay to that. Double yay, with flakes of extra yay on top.

“I like it just being something of hers again,” Tara went on.

Now that was something Willow got. She got it completely. She understood it her girlfriend now. She was nearly ready to sell the t-shirt. She knew… Well, she’d broken a cup that Tara’s Mom had always drunk her coffee from when they were back on the farm. Tara hadn’t… Well, Tara would never get mad at her – especially over an accident like that – but she’d seen the way her love had felt about something of her mother’s being broken or taken away from her. It had been hard to get Tara to throw the broken remains away.

Even if Tara hadn’t, quite, been her love then…

Tara would have hated to use something of her Mom’s in the first place. But at the time, it would have been raw – the hurt – as she’d charmed the pendant just after her Mom had died. Maybe, back then, Tara hadn’t been thinking straight. Willow could see that.

But to use it again… Her baby was going to feel like that would taint it. Again. Tainted something of her Mom’s. No… That wasn’t going to happen. Not this time. “Then I think you should wear it again,” Willow said.

It was perfect.

‘Now that it isn’t hurting you,’ was the unspoken part of that. No reason not to wear it when it was painless. Besides, in an understated way, it had always looked good on Tara. It set her eyes off nicely. Perhaps it had done the same for her Mom?

She took the pendant from her girlfriend, lifted it, ready to put it over Tara’s head. It was something she believed in and it was something Tara believed in. Actually, it could kind of be a symbol. She hadn’t quite figured out what it was going to be a symbol of, but… definitely symbolic. There was symbolism in there.

The symbolism was clear, it was just the meaning of it that was eluding her.

Tara stopped her though – and it was just a smile that did it before she added the word. “No,” she said.

“No?”

You should be the one to wear it,” Tara told her. “She’d have loved you. She’d have loved you to have it and… Well, I always wanted you to have something of hers. I just couldn’t find anything that meant enough. This seems… it seems perfect somehow.”

Perfect? Just what she’d thought – but for another reason. “Maybe symbolic?” Willow was pretty sure about that description now – even if she wasn’t sure what the symbol was.

Tara looked at her as if she’d said something strange. “I guess…”

Willow beamed. It wasn’t strange to her. She’d been right about the symbolism. Professor Grundy would be very proud. But… she just couldn’t take the pendant. “Tara, baby, it’s yours. She gave it to you. You should be the one to wear it.” There was a connection there, a family connection. Tara and she formed their own family… but she wasn’t a part of the old one. That was Tara’s history. And her Mom ‘giving’ it… Not so much giving as leaving. Willow wished she’d met that woman who’d made Tara into who she was.

“If she’d known you, then she’d have given it to you,” Tara told her. “Just like it was given to her once upon a time.”

And those words took Willow a little aback. She knew very well how much Tara had loved her Mom. She hated to even try and make the comparison, but if the word ‘more’ had to come into it then Tara had loved her Mom more than she’d loved hers. ‘Love’ wasn't the right way to look at probably… Of course she’d loved her Mom. The comparison was more about being close. Or not being close as the case might have been.

Willow hadn’t been close to Sheila, despite loving her. But Tara had been very close to her Mom as well as the love she’d clearly felt.

And whilst Tara talked about her – looked back and reminisced – it wasn’t too often she put herself in her Mom’s place. Like making decisions which she thought her Mom would have made – maybe because, fearing the magic, Tara thought she’d failed to make the decisions her Mom would have made in her place in the past.

But Willow was willing to bet Tara’s Mom had never faced the sort of decisions her daughter had been forced to face up to.

And overcome. Victoriously too.

Tara had done more than her Mom had ever had a chance to.

And Tara’s Mom would have been proud of the way Tara had lived her life. Maybe not every moment of it, because they all made mistakes, but karmically Tara was so far ahead of the game that the game had been left far, far behind and never had a chance of finding her again. The game was lost in the woods without a clue where it was going – because it had fallen so far behind Tara – who was out there way ahead of it.

Out there and right here… This was their bedroom – where their bed was. Being out there was good if it meant being right here. In here.

Tara smiled at her and it was a question to which Willow could only, really, nod a yes. She had to accept, not because of Tara’s words – as such – but because she knew Tara wouldn’t exaggerate a thing like that. Being given this by Tara was as close as she’d get to being given it by Tara’s Mom – who’d she’d never be able to meet, but wished she’d had.

So she let Tara place it around her neck. She allowed Tara to position it for her and she was more than happy to let Tara kiss her cheek to mark the conclusion of something that had seemed vaguely ceremonial. Kind of like… the passing of the torch. Except without the fire. Or the torch. She raised her fingers and touched the pendant, something she’d actually hated for such a long time because of what it did to the woman she loved, and she felt she had to do so with reverence because now it wasn’t something that hurt Tara… It was a gift from Tara’s Mom.

To her.

Tara’s love.

And that made her… strangely, she felt proud. Proud that Tara thought she was worthy of her love – even though she’d known it for a long time. Proud that Tara thought her Mom would have liked her. And she was proud of Tara too. She was always proud of Tara.

Except… well… She just couldn’t agree with Tara’s liking for ‘lesbian’ romantic novels. There was something up with them that Willow didn’t get. Now… a good smutty story she could understand the attraction of, or a contemporary story… But where was the fun in reading about decades and even centuries gone by? Where women in love with women just didn’t have the freedom they did today – and if they did in the story then it was all made-up and idealised anyway.

And they kept saying things like ‘gosh’ a lot too because they seemed to be English.

But that was the only Tara thing she wasn’t enormously proud of.

With this pendant now passed to her, and she really did feel like it was coming from Mrs Maclay. She couldn’t help hoping that one day there would be someone she could pass it onto… One day. There she went again. But why not? Someone she and Tara could be proud of. Would be proud of. And talking of proud… What was Tara going to do now? “What will we do now that it’s…”

“Hunt,” Tara said flatly. “Do things the way Slayers do. The way we always did…”

“Faith had you with her, and you had the pendant,” Willow pointed out. And something had bad had happened to the Slayer who’d given their friends daughter her name. She didn’t want the pain for Tara… but she didn’t want her not to be able to do what she felt she needed to either. Just so long as they could avoid anything bad. Damn, was she actually thinking the pendant, her pendant now, should be used for that? Or a replacement of it at least.

That Faith was a Slayer, Willow,” Tara said. “She never needed me, or even Rupert. Trouble found her – Trouble always finds Slayers. That’s what we need to do – attract the trouble. We just have to check the hiding places a little more often. Watch for signs of trouble in the police reports and the news. You know… all the stuff we used to do anyway.”

“Before it got quiet,” Willow confirmed. When they’d first come back to Sunnydale, without Tara using the pendant, there had been a period when her love had been showing her how she’d hunted her way around the country. The pendant had proven to be simply useful, rather than essential. Tara had shown her the signs to look for – all that sort of stuff. They’d been doing it all – until it became clear there just weren’t the vampire problems in Sunnydale there had been before.

Or at least none that weren’t in hiding – which Willow still couldn’t get over. The memory of the vampire she carried would have been horrified by hiding vampires.

Tara nodded. “It’ll take more of our time,” she said, “but it’s doable.”

Willow couldn’t stop her heart from sinking a little. More time? More dedication. More. Always more for the hunting. Never less there. Never more for them… Tara was right though – Willow knew that – if they were going to protect Sunnydale at all, then they had to do a good and proper job of it. And there were three of them who could go hunting – if they included Rupert. He always wanted to do more, so now maybe they could let him?

They didn’t have to do this alone like a Slayer would. They didn't have to die, like a Slayer inevitably would.

Without the pendant there wouldn’t be any pain either. And the burden on Tara was reduced. It wouldn’t have to be Tara as often as it would have been with the pendant. Tara hunted, rarely alone, but maybe six nights a week she was out there with either Willow or Rupert. It was too much, even if Tara was just doing a quick trip through town. It wasn’t fair… and it was an accumulation of risk that Willow didn’t like at all. The necessity of Tara using the pendant had recently just meant more sweeps for Tara because she didn’t think they were part of the regular hunting that they divided up more equally. And because she was going all around town, it meant those hunts were longer and thus more dangerous ones.

More dangerous if she did find some hidden vampires.

Now… They could share more equally again. None of them minded danger for themselves – it was just everyone else they were always thinking of. Share the danger. Share the free time… Share the family time. She and Tara had responsibility for Toni now – which was kind of a family thing – so they couldn’t just spare Rupert on account of Faith and Ben anymore. Rupert and Jenny spent time with Toni too though – and the teenager delighted in spending time with Faith and Ben. It made planning tricky.

Not that she was like all ‘must have a rota’ girl but she could see the possibilities.

Well, okay she was ‘must have a rota’ girl. But not for this, or should it be for this? It could have different colours and everything. Mixtures of colours to show where two people were out together. She thought she and Tara might be represented by pink.

Her heart might have sank at Tara’s suggestion of more hunting – especially in their graduation year – but all in all she could only say, “Good.” Tara didn't want to remake something that would hurt her again. That was good.

“You…” Tara hesitated, reached out and touched the pendant, and Willow looked at her waiting. “You really hated this, didn’t you?”

Willow took the pendant from Tara and tried to look at it, but the cord was too short around her neck to see it properly. It was supposed to hang at the throat. “I love it now,” she replied fingering the cord. “This is strong enough to sleep in right?”

“I always did,” Tara confirmed. “Why?”

Willow had this thought in her head and it just wouldn’t go away. “It might be all I wear tonight,” she suggested, glad that Toni wasn't here right now.

“Sweetie,” Tara admonished, “You just nearly fainted and your tummy is still upset from before.” She didn't sound too worried, though Willow knew she had to be, the suggestion of snuggles had probably reassured Tara.

“You can rub my… tummy. If you hurry back tonight.” Tara was the one due to be out hunting tonight, with Rupert, but there was no reason they couldn’t just do a sweep and head home – unless they ran into something. “And I’m sure I’ll be much better by then. If you like… Well, I’ll promise to lie down all the time.”

“Till I get back?” Tara checked, sounding as if she was about assign her chores to Toni for her.

“Yes, baby,” Willow teased. “I’m not budging. When you get back, you can take the top…”

Tara thought about that for a few moments, then stood up and went to the wardrobe, opening it up, looking for something.

“Tara? Where are you going?” Willow asked. They’d been having a moment there. A good moment that was full of promise and full of tenderness. Why would Tara run out on that? What was there in the wardrobe that could interfere with their moment?

“If you want me to hurry back,” Tara said, “then I have to hurry out too. Will you make sure Toni does her homework before you lie down though?”

“If you’ll come back and do yours?” Willow countered. She doubted she’d be able to keep still once Tara came in. Though she might remain broadly horizontal, only raising herself occasionally as the snuggles required of her.

“I promise,” Tara confirmed as she picked out her jacket and checked the pocket for a stake.

There was always a stake in Tara’s pocket, it made dry cleaning an exercise in ‘memories’ about camping trips if they forgot to take them out of there.

“Top huh?” she asked, looking back at Willow from the door.

Willow smiled and allowed herself to fall back onto the bed… sprawled what she hoped was coquettishly. “Riding high, baby.”

Tara blew her a kiss, but Willow didn’t mime the catch on her lips… No, the kiss had gone somewhere else.

*******************




-------------------------


If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in Chance.


------------------------
Katharyn
23. Volumey Text
 
Posts: 3794
Topics: 5
Joined: Sun Apr 24, 2005 1:23 pm


Re: Part 129

Postby xita » Sat Mar 13, 2004 9:42 pm

Ooh, I am behind so I am going to reply to the last chapter and then come back later to reply to the newest chapter. I've been busy as you well know :p



Anyway, hee, I can't get the picture of Ethan with feathers in his hair out of my head. And being rude? hee, I wanna get rude ;) So cute, but then now I am wondering what happened with the pendant, was Ethan's magic good enough to break the spell on it? What happened to Willow? And so now back to homework actually then back to reading so I can find out what happens , :grin Thanks for the updates babe!

- - - - - - - - - - -
"No more twat. No more twat for me. Twat gets me into trouble!" - Crack Whore Jenny, The L Word


xita
 


RE: Part 158

Postby tiredsoul » Sun Mar 14, 2004 8:12 pm

See, now this one has become my latest favorite part. There are so many reasons to choose from, but I’ll pick this…

Quote:
“You should be the one to wear it,” Tara told her. “She’d have loved you. She’d have loved you to have it and… Well, I always wanted you to have something of hers. I just couldn’t find anything that meant enough. This seems… it seems perfect somehow.”


Reading it again brought a lump to my throat. You took something as worrisome as losing the power of the pendant and wrapped it up in a beautiful thing. Go you! :)



Again I request a nice karma kill for that Ethan. When you’re done with him, of course.



Thanks Katharyn.



--celia



--------------------

scampering through life as it was meant to be

tiredsoul
 


Re: --Part 138

Postby DarkRed » Mon Mar 15, 2004 7:24 pm

Allo again :bigwave



Horray soon the action begins!! *grin* WOO HOO!! go girls! (and english man in tweed lol) :applause

didja see how soon i'm up with u guys? :peace but i'm not sure i'm so happy about that, cuz i enjoy this place.i can read at my own pace, i don't have to wait.. its all good. but still i can't really help it, i can't stop reading when i start.. damn u! it's all ur fault! lol..



so i just wanted to pop by and say i'm enjoying myself -in the non naughty way- alot here, and i can't wait to finally get to the action stuff! but someone insists on pulling that part more and more! tz tz tz :p lol. well i love it anyway, so i forgive u for the -biting-my-nails- issue :wink cuz those parts are just beautiful.

i'm glad willow took the pendant off, didn't really want to find out how much pain Tara could take either, with all those vamps in there that would be bad.. *sigh* i guess we all love her so much huh? hahahah :tara



peace out :cool

:kitty anat.



DarkRed
 


RE: Part 158

Postby heraldgal » Wed Mar 17, 2004 11:12 am

I hear you DarkRed it was fun reading at my own pace but impossible to stop reading. The best part is that its still going.



It is unnerving that the pendant will not work but so sweet of Tara to give it to Willow, the pendant was such a big part of Tara and Willow in the beginning and now kind of coming full circle. The sausage thing was funny. :)



Thank you for the update.



Cathy.

heraldgal
 


Re: RE: Part 158

Postby Katharyn » Sat Mar 20, 2004 11:51 pm

I've been bad. Not replying to your feedback.



Sorry.



In Xita's case that's okay because she had been bad by falling behind and not replying to 158 at all!



But she has been busy.



Everyone wants to get rude, its the point of things. As for what happened to the pendant you should already be able to see that when you read 158. So do it... *S*



Thanks



Tiredsoul - another fave for Licky. Her affections shift like the wind *S* I always wanted to reclaim the pendant. I made it out to be this boogie man, or boogie rock at least, and it really wasn't. The problem was what Traa felt she had to do and suffer.



It was good to get it back though.



Karma kill?



Me?



When was the last time I did that?



Thanks



Darkred - Thanks for your reply! Thanks for sticking with it and catching up too. Your first wait ends today though...



You enjoy yourself how you like by all means.



Thanks



Cathy - Yup we're still here!



Sausage... I only realised later just what the symbolism there was/is and now I feel all guilty. I think, in hindsight, that maybe Toni realised too.



It was just me that didn't.



Anyway, without further ado, Part 159 will be in just a moment.



Thanks everyone.



Katharyn

-------------------------




If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in Chance.




------------------------

Katharyn
 


Part 159

Postby Katharyn » Sat Mar 20, 2004 11:54 pm

Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle - Reporting In (Part 159)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe as set up in “The Wish” though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Nothing is referenced that occurs after S5 though. Guess why? Most “spoilers” would be for the first chronicle of this fic rather than the show and if you haven’t read that then much of this will make no sense but you can try and get round it by reading the preface to Part 104 which summarises most of what went before.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all of the Sidestep Chronicle)
Summary: Holland gets a progress report.
Disclaimer: I 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. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional.
Notes: This is one of those parts which is needed but doesn’t quite fit with what’s around it. That’s why it’s shorter than the average bear.
Thanks To: All My Brilliant Beta Readers (AMBBR) Kerry (Forrister) who for some reason signed right back up for this fic after seeing the size of the last one. No accounting for madness is there. And Celia (TiredSoul) who should have known better but signed up anyway. *HUGS* and Big Thanks to all of you. This is one of Kerry’s and she reminded me where the formality lay. Thanks hun.

The Sidestep Chronicle – Second Chronicle

Reporting In

By

Katharyn Rosser


Holland put down the telephone handset – he couldn’t abide the little headsets the younger associates chose to use in it’s place – and turned to musing on what he’d just heard. Quite naturally then his thoughts turned to the little town they’d been talking about in their conversation. Sunnydale – he’d not been there in a long, long time but between the reports from all the projects he’d been involved with in his time here at Wolfram and Hart – right from being a wet behind the ears associate recruited out of college – he felt he knew the place better than he would have had any reason to remember.

Over those varied projects that had fallen to the LA Office to control he’d had occasion to see maps which put things in the town in their proper place, relative to the landmarks he dimly remembered from his own visits. It was no use directing people to the third Getheth Altar on the Right Tranverse Plane of Affinity unless they already happened to know it was beneath the public library in Sunnydale, it just wasn’t how most people navigated. And if a demon needed to know where the public library was, then it was just a case of pointing them at that altar.

Surveillance pictures showed him how the town looked today, and he could certainly see what Mayor Richard “Call me Dick” Wilkins had in mind when he first of all built the place and then wrote the City Ordinances which restricted the kinds of construction that could go on in his town. Of course he hadn’t been Mayor the whole time, but the ordinances had never been changed.

Yes, there had been a definite element of ensuring the demons in the town had free access to whatever it was they desired – but equally ‘Dick’ had been after ‘small town America’ before there even was a ‘small town America’ for him to model that on. He might even have been the architect of the concept – it was difficult to tell with the former Mayor. Perhaps he’d simply remembered the future and causality had done the rest.

There had been some necessary development since then to keep up with the times, but the majority of the industry and commerce was kept on the outskirts of town – but not at the expense of the small, high street based, businesses. Restrictions on the likes of superstores were tight in Sunnydale, the firm had fought off suits brought by the major chains, and the people seemed to like the small local businesses still being kept in place.

Kept as if awaiting some event Dick had known about.

Mayor Wilkins had, by making the town both prosperous and a nice place to live, pulled off the seemingly impossible in Sunnydale. Especially when taken with the demon facilitation aspect. Richard Wilkins had been a master of his art. A politician before he’d even had an electorate.

Holland rather missed their weekly conference calls. They’d always offered an interesting insight into the mind of a politician. The mind of a ‘man’ who had been more than content with his place in the world – other than the small matter of needing to become a demon, of course. The mind of a ‘man’ who’d genuinely seemed to care for the people he was absolutely willing to sacrifice when necessary. There was a dichotomy there that had existed for over a century without once falling out of balance. The former Mayor had loved Sunnydale and it’s people, to the point it had arguably gotten him killed.

Richard Wilkins had been a sad loss to his town and to the firm as well.

Still… There was always Sunnydale and just because Sunnydale had lost its founder and guiding light didn’t mean there weren’t things to be done there that held a great deal of interest for Wolfram and Hart. Sunnydale was, quite deliberately, a place of power. A place of fates.

When he’d been told about where Mr Rayne had met Miss Maclay, he could place the street in its geographical context and imagine the scene, even though he was almost certain he’d never been in that area and it would be very different now even if he had been twenty years or so ago.

Having met both of them, here in LA, he could also imagine just how well they would have got along, which was to say ‘not very well.’ It wasn't like he would have employed Ethan without having a file on him at least as extensive as that on Tara Maclay and Willow Rosenberg. Followers of Chaos were not the sort of people he liked to employ unless they were absolutely perfect for a role to be played. And he certainly wasn't forgetting Miss Rosenberg and the part she’d played in the past of Sunnydale.

Miss Rosenberg would probably have shown less patience with Ethan Rayne than Miss Maclay evidently had. There wasn't anything to suggest that either of them would have taken offensive action against Mr Rayne for stalking them – but Ethan Rayne had his own, quite unique, personality which could set practically anyone’s teeth on edge. Until they got to know him.

Once they got to know him then they really would come to hate him. It seemed to be the way of things for most people. But Holland wasn’t employed to be ‘most people.’ Or like them.

He was a little more detached and he’d never hated anyone since he’d graduated from grade school. It was, he knew now he had recruited people for himself, part of the reason the firm had been attracted to him. In professional terms their relationship, his and Ethan’s, was working out quite nicely. And results were always what counted – even if they wouldn’t be obvious for some time.

And as an experienced recruiter he had to admit to himself that Mr Rayne was practically the antithesis of what Wolfram and Hart would ordinarily be about. His goals weren’t consistent with those of the firm – at least not at the strategic level. Tactically though, Ethan Rayne would prove to be quite an asset, Holland was sure of it. He’d always fulfilled his contracts with the London Office, worked relatively cheaply – not counting the cash element that wasn’t a consideration for the firm – and was highly effective at offering added value. At least if you approved of his own personal schemes.

Now, Miss Maclay… there was someone who was practically the ideal contractor – or even employee – for Wolfram and Hart. Lilah had been grooming her, or attempting to, for some time a few years back. Grooming was perhaps inaccurate. Lilah had seen her potential and desired to bring her into the Wolfram and Hart corporate family.

Miss Maclay had been less keen on the idea, and Holland would have been disappointed in her if she hadn’t been. It wasn't something that could ever be forced. A person had to choose the life and the commitment. It was practically a marriage, but ultimately it wasn't the life for Miss Maclay.

Still that wasn’t to say that being keen was a requirement for working here. Desirable yes, but not essential. There were members of the firm who’d found some hitherto unknown moral centre. Miss Maclay wouldn’t have been such a person – she'd already had a moral centre. She also had many other qualities he would have valued in a contractor.

She was highly efficient, very powerful – especially with her girlfriend Miss Rosenberg at her side – and driven in a way that money, curses or favours just couldn’t buy. Also she was implacable in her opposition to vampires.

Given all that it was ironic then that he had Ethan Rayne under contract and Tara Maclay would never consent to work for them, despite the debt she technically owed to the firm and he could have attempted to collect on. She probably would have paid it too, she’d made a bargain and she would have kept to it, he was virtually certain of it.

The irony of the situation came from the fact that both of them were critical to how things were set to progress in that town – and, naturally therefore, in the wider world. Of course neither of them had too many of the details, Ethan more than Miss Maclay, but progress was already being made in this enterprise.

So Mr Rayne and his other watchers had reported.

The Two Roses were together, as had been foreseen, and now they had taken a teenager into their charge – which most definitely hadn’t been. It was important to remember when dealing with such things that absence from prophecy implied only insignificance rather than that changes had been made in causality. Insignificance didn’t mean that this new addition to their lives couldn’t prove useful in the future.

Though he didn't have all the restricted details, it appeared there was an interesting legal situation developing there which he’d already consulted his colleagues over in Family Law about. They’d advised a pre-emptive search for the girl’s mother – which he’d already gotten underway. Just in case. Knowing where she was… and offering a little pro-bono work to one side or the other could give the firm a significant advantage in future negotiations which were bound to come – even if they were between the guardians and the judge – if the mother couldn’t be located.

And of course there were also more direct methods of influence based on the teenage girl, but that would be unfortunate, and he’d see it as a failure on his part.

Of course that would all depend on the relationship between the Two Roses and the girl – but even if it was relatively poor he was confident Miss Maclay and Miss Rosenberg would do practically anything to protect her. It was who they were – they were the protectors of the innocent in much the same way as he was the protector and representative of the frequently guilty.

Yes, they’d do practically anything at all. There would be limits, of course, beyond which they would take desperate measures to help someone in trouble – but he had a hunch he could predict just where those was. Pushing either or both of them that far wasn’t likely to be good idea, just ask the vampires Ethan was working with, and hence he was determined to avoid such a mistake or more particularly to allow others to make those mistakes on his behalf. There was pressure that could be applied to bring them to negotiations, perhaps, but he wasn’t married to the idea yet.

He was just married to the firm.

And his wife, of course.

With the pendant Miss Maclay used in order to have advance warning of vampires now out of commission, Drusilla and Darla had already been signalled to make their return to Sunnydale at their leisure. Their presence too was going to be absolutely critical to making order out of chaos – not that he was admitting such an aim to Mr Rayne. He just hoped that Drusilla demonstrated her usual, impeccable, survival instincts. Dear Tara wasn't just going to ‘let’ them return and he really didn't want to have to move to plan B. Nor could he afford a failure in this matter – it would be bad for the future of the firm, or at least his part in the future of the firm.

Would Darla make it? Well, without the pendant it was likely that Tara, with her dedication, was going redouble her efforts. It was the kind of work ethic that would have fitted in so well around here. Holland flipped through her file once more… and he was pleased to see she was keeping up her grades too. There was an unfortunate maths exam, which was still a more than creditable pass, with a doctor’s certificate to excuse her performance as well. But… oh, if it had been possible that Lilah’s former ambition to bring Tara Maclay into the firm had come to pass…

It would have gone very well, he was sure of that. But had never been meant to be… Oh, you could play with prophecy and you could play along with fate… But some things just weren’t going to happen. Tara had performed her service for this firm – she’d made Lilah what she had to be to succeed as the senior partners required.

Now Lilah almost scared him, as it should be, and that was Miss Maclay’s doing too.

And it was because of her this could not fail – Lilah couldn’t be allowed to find a reason to take over this project and make contact with Miss Maclay. Oh no, that would be very, very unfortunate and might even involve some penalty clauses.

No, anything else that happened now with Miss Maclay’s assistance was just the icing on the cake. But she’d never voluntarily work directly for them. They were simply relying on coincidence to do the job for them. Plausible deniability wasn't really an issue but not allowing her to find out – at least until it was too late – was certainly for the best. She would be more suspicious knowing the firm were involved – she would see larger shadows all around her.

And not incorrectly as it happened, but it wouldn’t be the best option for any of them.

He was having to put a great deal of trust in Ethan, but that was the type of employer he was. He hired the best person for the job and then trusted them to get on with it. Not trusted enough to allow Ethan to fail without having set in place some contingencies – which would have been a failure on his own part – but trust was important in any relationship. So it was that he trusted Ethan and he hadn’t been disappointed so far. Mr Rayne had demonstrated his worth with the successful completion of the initial stages of his activities. A small matter, one which hadn’t been critical, but it was useful to prove his value to the vampires.

Holland felt justified in his decision.

There had been some opposition to drawing up a contract for Mr Rayne. Lilah, in particular, had wanted someone else – specifically someone non-human – appointed to the role. To Holland though there was a certain degree of logic in ensuring that the selected individual could walk the streets of Sunnydale without attracting instant attention from either the Watcher or the Two Roses. The self-appointed protectors of the town weren’t known for leaving demons alone just because they weren’t vampires, even though that variety was their main target. The rest of the demons were judged by intention, but he wasn't sure that would have helped if Lilah’s opinion had held sway.

There was also the fact that Lilah had her own prejudices about the whole Sunnydale situation. Undeserved perhaps, but prejudices none the less. To be fair to his former protégée they were based on a misperceived, or rather reconstructed, memories courtesy of Miss Maclay. Lilah hadn’t made a direct choice that had led to them – at least not obviously. They were, however, very genuine feelings within that false memory.

She hated Miss Maclay only because that was what she had asked Tara to leave her with, and that was the extent of her choice. It was what she had needed to be left with – and it had suited the firm absolutely perfectly. The one problem with that was that they couldn’t allow Lilah to place herself back in the Sunnydale mix where that ‘hate’ would come back into play.

Lilah, so long his protégée, was of course on the fast track now, which had been the whole point of Project Two Roses – or at least one of the points. It wasn't as if she had to stand on formality anymore. He couldn’t ‘instruct her to do anything.’ And as his equal she had a perfect right to offer ‘friendly advice to him.’ It was one of the ways in which office politics worked. ‘Friendly advice,’ when carefully documented, was a perfect excuse to say ‘I told you so’ to the partners when something went drastically wrong. Followed by ‘do you really want to trust him with the important projects after that…?’

Keeping her away from Sunnydale had always been his idea and not company policy, though the senior partners had seen the logic in his suggestion. It was essential that no failure in that town gave her an opportunity to prove she was the best person to handle the Sunnydale contract.

She really wasn't. She was the worst person in the world through no fault of her own. No lack of skill.

It was the way the game was played. He’d been on the receiving end of such advice before – and he’d dished it out too, often to Lilah. He didn’t bother playing such games with the Lilah that Miss Maclay had created though. There really was no point – the normal rules didn’t quite apply to her anymore. Certainly she had to succeed in what she did – but ‘pissing her off’ wasn't going to do him any good.

The truth was that she was on the fast track and he wasn’t. She could fully expect to be running this office as a full partner within five years and to make senior partner well before she was forty years of age. He barely remembered forty. Yes, perhaps that was a slight exaggeration, but Lilah Morgan had everything going for her except a wealth of experience. She didn’t have that because there was just no way she could have gained that quickly. Experience was the one thing you couldn’t fast track, even in Wolfram and Hart.

She’d barely been an associate for as long as Holland had been Junior Partner and her responsibility had been very much of the personal kind. She wasn’t used to having the fate of employees she was required to look after in her hands. She wasn’t used, even now after a few years working at his level, to salvaging a project that started to go wrong despite the best planning.

She didn’t know all the tricks – she just knew the theory behind what she’d seen others do.

But he had to admit that she’d always be more suitable for where she was going than he would ever be.

In many ways it was like watching one of his daughters grow up, go away to school and come back a woman with her own life and children. The metaphor wouldn’t hold to its ultimate conclusion though – one day soon he was going to find himself working for Lilah. He’d end up being one of her children.

He’d recruited her from college and he was going to be working for her. He was an ambitious man, but he was aware enough to realise that he’d already reached what might be the pinnacle of his career. He had maybe, maybe, one more promotion in him. Perhaps ten more years before retirement and a dotage spent on the golf course and earning him a permanent retainer in addition to his pension. Wolfram and Hart never, ever, let go.

Even when you died he would still be a part of the team.

He’d always have to come back when they called him.

There were people in this office who’d found that out already – and appreciated the faith the firm showed in them. As he would appreciate it in his time.

He might find himself working for Lilah for much more than half a decade if things came to pass as he predicted and actually, despite his ambition, he couldn’t be happier about her progress as a member of the firm. It never hurt to have allies of the stature Lilah was likely to achieve, just as it wouldn’t hurt her to have the benefit of his experience on hand. And to trust him to deal with Sunnydale for as long as it was ‘unsuitable’ for her.

He was trusted by the senior partners to do so – he couldn’t afford to disprove the accuracy of that trust. Which was why any good news from that town was very welcome to him.

His experience, and Ethan Rayne’s, told him he had the right person for the job. The pendant Ethan had reduced to being a mundane decoration had formerly had a definite purpose. Its removal was a carefully executed necessity to get the vampires back into Sunnydale. What they did with the latitude they were being offered was entirely up to them. Only their simple presence was required for Phases Two and Three. While it didn’t matter what they did it was critical they didn’t, deliberately, kill or injure their Two Roses. All that was needed was a certain equilibrium – which was exactly what he’d just told Mr Rayne.

Ethan understood perfectly, even if the structure of the contract still rankled with him.

Darla wasn’t stupid. Tara Maclay and Willow Rosenberg had wiped out her Order and chased her out of Sunnydale – she’d leave it to the magical assistance they were going to get from Ethan Rayne to distract or remove the threat to whatever it was she wanted to achieve. Holland hadn’t asked what that was because he knew that Mr Rayne would keep anything which was unwanted from happening – at least too quickly.

Ethan knew what he had to do – as well as what he couldn’t do to achieve those ends.

Some things that Darla wanted, Ethan would have to delay. Some others he would need to frustrate entirely – and without getting himself killed. A dead magic user was no user of magic at all. But then Mr Rayne had a talent for survival, one which bordered on the miraculous. By his own admission he loved to stay and witness the chaos he’d caused – yet he never got fatally caught up in it, even though – by its very nature – it threatened him.

So, with Ethan’s collaboration, the vampire’s plans would progress more slowly than they would have wished – if they went ahead at all. He had no problem with that since Drusilla, as was her way, had cut her ties with Wolfram and Hart in favour of her ‘grandmother.’ He’d predicted it, even if he regretted it, and it had come to past. Some things were more important than simple loyalty, family for one. He just hoped that one day she’d come back to the firm. She had a certain talents they found useful and he thought she was one of those rare creatures in the world – something unique.

He shouldn’t have been surprised by what else he’d been told – Ethan had declared, right from the start, that he had his own plans for Sunnydale. It was part of why he worked so cheap – he liked to leave his own, unique, touch on a town, city or person. All to serve the cause of chaos – which was ironic when the ultimate end was considered in this case. Ethan didn’t know the ultimate aim though – he had no need to know and probably wouldn’t approve at all if he had. But he was a professional – of a kind – it wouldn’t have stopped him doing what was required of him. The contract would come ahead of any plans Ethan Rayne might have. He knew the importance of timing too.

The only plans which would proceed according to schedule, and there was a schedule now that phase two had been set in motion, were Wolfram and Harts. Tara Maclay wouldn’t like it, Holland was sure of that, even if perhaps she considered the firm a lesser evil than the vampires, but as someone had once said to him ‘you can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs.’

And this was going to be, to continue the metaphor, ‘one heck of an omelette.’ It would fulfil a long standing commitment, which was what Wolfram and Hart was all about. Commitment. Commitment to each other and commitment to their clients. Commitment was the basis of contract and the basis of loyalty. Miss Maclay and Miss Rosenberg knew all about commitment he was sure.

It was part of what made them, as well as Wolfram and Hart, families.

There had been a time when he’d wondered why it was he was constantly being handed these cases and projects to manage to their conclusions. It was an interesting conundrum. He was frequently involved in prophetic cases – and in Project Two Roses there had even been ‘fate’ itself to deal with – it seemed that prophecy was ‘his thing’ in the eyes of the partners. In terms of experience it was certainly true.

In this case the Senior Partners hadn’t let him know their ultimate objectives – but then they rarely did. He, as much as Ethan, was a means to an end for the firm. What he believed he could accomplish for the firm though… Ah, there were definite opportunities here. Whatever he planned to bring into the mix on his own initiative would, he was sure, have been anticipated and expected by the Senior Partners – which he took to be carte blanche to continue to operate as he needed to for all their best interests.

Once Phase One was in full flow, Phase Two should be able to start warming up nicely without attracting any undue attention. You couldn’t, as they said, make an omelette with just eggs. You needed heat to do that. Holland had absolute faith Ethan had it all under control. Long standing contracts would be fulfilled and he’d go to great lengths to provide the added value which kept the customer happy.

Practically everyone would be happy, in some way, at the outcome.

Practically everyone…

With maybe just a couple of exceptions.

**********************





-------------------------


If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with.
Chance in Chance.


------------------------
Katharyn
23. Volumey Text
 
Posts: 3794
Topics: 5
Joined: Sun Apr 24, 2005 1:23 pm


Re: RE: Part 158

Postby tiredsoul » Sun Mar 21, 2004 11:03 pm

My affections shift like the wind? Hmm, not so sure that's a good thing ;)



Can I help it if you keep writing favorite parts of mine? Nope, all out of my control.



But this part, well it gave me tons more insight. I so loved Lilah in Sidestep. Kinda hoping she'll make an appearance here, but even I am not privy to that.



It's interesting with all of the background you give here just how much had happened throughout the story. And it certainly shows how far W&H reaches.



Thanks Katharyn.



--celia



--------------

scampering only cuz we know what happened to licky

tiredsoul
 

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