Tara looked at the paper with the ornate mark of the shipping line in her hand and frowned.
“Another invitation to the Captain’s table?” Willow asked.
“N-no,” Tara replied. “It’s an apology. Everyone is invited to the main dining room for a buffet and entertainment.”
“Which won’t make this tub move a bit faster,” grumbled William. “Sorry ladies.”
“I think you should go, perhaps with an escort,” Giles said in a thoughtful tone. “Try to gauge the feeling of the passengers.”
“We’re thinking politics already?” Buffy asked.
“Afraid so,” the Prince sighed.
Tara looked at Dawn as everyone in the crowded stateroom went over again what they had observed that day, trying to make the facts fit. Even Alex had contributed when he pointed out the senior police official seemed unhappy with the nationalist paper Giles had purchased. Tara listened as the girl in the corner read that paper and looked more and more unhappy. Tara looked over to Buffy. The small blonde met her eyes and then followed her gaze as Tara looked back to Dawn.
“Put that rag away,” Buffy said sternly as she stood up and came to Dawn’s side.
“Is any of this real?” Dawn asked in a small voice.
Buffy looked down at the line drawing of a windowless basement room with a leering rat at the door. The heading said ‘A Mother’s Cell’ and the article with it reported that French barbarians were threatening the Countess of Sussex and strip searching all of her female attendants including the correspondent. Buffy pulled Dawn to face her. She stroked her younger sister’s hair gently.
“Have you ever heard of this ‘Miss Brown’?” Buffy asked.
“No,” Dawn said softly.
“Does that look like any place on the estate you’ve been in, especially the ones where you weren’t supposed to go and did anyway?” Buffy asked with a faint smile.
“I never…no,” Dawn said a touch sullenly.
“It’s not real,” Buffy said surely. “I’m not saying things are all bright and happy at home, but that is
not real. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Dawn said with a nod.
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Tara pulled on her jeans and stepped out of the tiny bathroom into her stateroom. Willow was looking at a book intently and not turning the page. Dawn and her sister were with Giles and Alex in the stateroom across the way and the men were getting ready in their own room. Willow had volunteered to help get Tara ready and the dark blonde had stammered her thanks.
Now what do I do? Tara thought to herself.
“Could y-y-you h-help me with this scarf?” Tara asked hesitantly.
Oh smooth, Maclay! she chided herself silently.
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Willow reached for the scarf Tara was holding out. When her hand brushed Tara’s she felt a warmth she’d never before this trip. Willow looked down at the loops of Tara’s jeans and prayed the off-world beauty didn’t want her to lace it through the way Buffy had the night before.
I don’t think I could stand it and not… Willow thought and then blushed.
“How-” Willow squeaked. “I mean, how do you want to wear it?”
“Um, folded and around the shoulders?” Tara asked.
“I can do that,” Willow said in a relieved voice.
The redhead started and realized that Tara was about as tall as she was now. Willow looked down at the flat shoes Tara was wearing.
It’s the boots and being bigger in all the best ways that make her seem taller, Willow thought.
Then her thoughts became much less organized as she draped the scarf around Tara’s shoulders. She brushed it out and felt the cloth seem to come to life under her hands. For an instant she thought about replacing the scarf with her arms and draping them around Tara and nestling against the soft dark blonde hair. It wasn’t until she felt Tara’s hand on hers did she realize she wasn’t moving her hands anymore. She was about to apologize when Tara turned and framed her face gently in her hands. The kiss that followed was soft and over too soon.
“That was an I want to kiss you Miss Rosenberg kiss,” Tara said with a smile. “Just so you know.”
The knock on the door sounded distant at first. Finally Tara looked out to make sure of her escort. She smiled at Willow and let Liam escort her to the dining room followed by the Prince and Riley. Willow locked the door behind them. Then she pirouetted in place and fell back across the bed and smiled hugely at the ceiling.
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When Tara entered the dining room she noticed knots of people together with very little mingling. She overheard several people grumbling about being held at the dock. No one was near the embarrassed looking police constable near the Captain. Tara felt an undercurrent of disappointment and failure coming from the striking girl in the sequined dress at the only table that seemed to be attracting all kinds of people. She heard the sounds of a card game and felt her escort’s attention drift toward cards and the girl.
“Why don’t you go play a hand or two and listen,” Tara suggest to the tall Irishman.
“What about you?” Liam asked mostly out of politeness.
“I’ll circulate,” she replied. “I’ll work my way to the Prince.”
“Right,” Liam agreed. “I’ll meet you there after I win.”
Tara circled and listened, keeping her attention on the girl and the game. Her name was Anya and she was a constructed human. Her DNA would be tweaked in places to create the best possible result. Tara Remembered that only pleasure models were made so this Anya might give off subtle signals to increase her appeal to her client. Tara glared at the black choker on the girl’s slim neck, a sign she was more object than person to her client. As she watched Tara saw the girl change her position slightly, a breast almost showing as she looked away. Tara looked away, unwilling to add to those watching Anya. Then Tara realized the construct had done that after a quick look at the table just after the cards had been dealt. She looked for the Prince and headed in his direction.
“William,” she said with a smile for the first time. “May I borrow Mr. Riley for an errand?”
“What dangers am I sending him into?” William asked.
“I need to send him to Miss Rosenberg for a science question,” Tara answered.
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Dawn placed her bookmark into her novel and looked up at Mr. Giles and the others in the room. She was fairly sure they couldn’t fly an airship or field strip a machine gun, but Alex had seen things the others had missed on the trip into town, Willow was smarter than Brock, that was for sure and she knew Mr. Giles would have been able to decipher the code of the Silver Sextant in about four pages. Even Beth was a better sister from what little she could remember now that she was Buffy the reporter.
“Taking a break?” Giles asked her with a small smile.
“Yeah,” she said quickly. “Ah, sir?”
“What is it Dawn?” Giles asked.
“What does the Imperial Gold Sunburst really mean?” Dawn asked in what she hoped was a nonchalant way.
“Ah, Master Sergeant Brock of the Imperial Marine Commandos,” Giles nodded.
“You’ve read the Claire Durano books?” Dawn asked in astonishment.
“Just the first couple to make sure I wouldn’t be hearing from your mother,” Giles explained. “They are fairly good young adult fare.”
“Oh,” Dawn said a bit embarrassed. “So what does it mean to win one?”
“Brock is damn lucky,” Giles said without a smile. “You don’t really win any military medal, Dawn. It’s awarded to you because someone else thought you deserved it. Most of the people who were awarded the Gold Sunburst got it after they were dead or nearly so after doing something brave beyond all expectations and being seen. For every medal of any kind there are a hundred other people who did something equally brave, but they did it beyond the view of anyone and no one knows of their courage.”
“So you’d have to be lucky and a hero?” Dawn asked.
“Quite correct,” Giles said softly.
“Do people really make a fuss over you if they know you have one?” Dawn asked thoughtfully. “A big medal, I mean.”
“Yes, some people do,” Giles explained. “For some that’s worse than what got them their medal in the first place, and every time someone asks about their decoration they have to relive that moment and try to live up to it. I think sometimes it’s easier to be a damn fool. Nobody expects much out of you.”
Dawn’s next question was silenced by the knocking on the door and Giles reaching into the valise at his side.
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“Mr. Giles?” Tara asked as the older man arrived with two small cases marked fragile.
“I’m afraid Miss Rosenberg didn’t quite trust young Mr. Riley with her few pieces of lab equipment,” Giles said with a thin smile as he handed the cases to Tara. “She did however trust you with them.”
Tara blushed and turned away just in time to see the Irishman stand up at the table. She watched Liam as he ambled over to the Prince with only a couple of backward glares at the card game. She palmed the small lenses Giles had given her as the dark haired Irishman came up.
“Did you win much?” Tara asked sweetly.
“Didn’t really want to,” Liam said with a shrug. “It’s just a small stakes game.”
“At the moment,” the Prince said. Above them the whistle shrieked the announcement that the Star of Copenhagen would be pulling out soon.
“Come with me,” Tara said in a commanding tone.
She kept her attention on where Anya was looking. At the deal Tara caught her glance ever so slightly at the table and shift. Tara reached over the coffee trader’s arm and took one of his cards.
“Hey!” both the trader and the gambler yelled at the same time. The gambler seemed a bit more strident. He reached for Tara only to have Giles’ hand squeeze his wrist harder than he had Willow’s earlier that evening. Tara lifted the card to the light and peered through the tinted lens in her hand.
“They’re not marked!” the gambler shouted.
“Not to you or me,” the Prince said as tiny lines showed under close scrutiny. “But to someone with enhanced vision for moving around a bedroom without disturbing anyone they’re quite visible in this light, isn’t that correct miss?”
“So she can see something I can’t,” the gambler snapped. “We never talk.”
“Anya,” Tara said gently as she met the construct’s frightened eyes. “What does this mean?”
Tara positioned her hand and arm just so and Anya looked at the pose.
“Pair of aces and a pair of fours,” Anya said looking at the pose. “I think you’re trying to say king high.”
“Those are my cards!” A man across the table shouted.
“Yes sir,” Anya said quickly with a vacant smile. “They’re very good and you played them very well. They’re the winners unless my master uses the king under his lapel.”
You just happened to mention that, I’m sure, Tara thought as she felt a wave of repressed anger flare in the girl.
“Well ,well, well,” the policeman said as he placed a hand on the gambler as Liam and the other men at the table grabbed him. “I think there’s a few things that need to be straightened out at the station.”
“Please officer, if I may?” William said politely.
“Yes, your grace?” the constable said in a puzzled tone.
“I believe we are about to depart, and I must attend to duties that await me at home,” William said easily. “If you take him in here it will be a matter for the courts here and I would be forced to choose between a duty to the law and to my country.”
“I see,” the policeman nodded. “Could you charge him there?”
“If I may,” Giles said with a smile that seemed more challenge than smile. “Miss Anya, do you have a copy of your contract?”
“He does,” she said pointing at the gambler. “He keeps it in his jacket pocket next to the gun.”
There was a grunt from the table as the policeman removed both objects Anya had mentioned with a minimum of gentleness. The cop offered the paper to Giles.
“Thank you,” Giles said politely. “Miss Anya, who is this Mr. Tappert?”
Anya flinched at the name and looked down. Tara touched her hand and gave her a reassuring smile.
“He can’t hurt you here,” Tara said surely.
“My original owner,” Anya whispered hoarsely. “He trained me.”
“Owner?” Giles asked gently.
“I was made,” Anya said looking down.
“That’s an Imperial contract!” the gambler screeched. “It’s not from Xanadu!”
“Yes, and I see in this you’re listed as a minor, Anya,” Giles said in a pleasant tone. “How old were you, legally, when this was written?”
“In real terms I was sixteen,” Anya said softly.
“Sixteen?” Giles said more loudly. There was a growl from the crowd. The gambler had been reduced to making panicky noises that were half sobs and half groans. Giles looked to the Captain and the policeman. Then he turned his attention to the man being held by his former victims.
“I doubt this piece of fiction would last thirty seconds in any courtroom in the Empire as anything but an admission of chattel slavery,” Giles said in a hard flat voice as he looked at the contract. “Would it, Mister…Crenshaw?”
“I didn’t know!” the gambler pleaded in a sob.
“You didn’t want to know!” Giles growled.
“I think we’ll take him with us and do a proper job of it in Oldenberg,” William said to the policeman.
“Very well, your grace,” the cop said glaring at the sobbing Crenshaw. “Do have a safe journey.”
“What about Anya?” Tara asked. As she did so Tara removed the scarf from her shoulders and draped it around Anya’s, covering the frightened girl a bit more. Anya pulled the scarf closed and smiled at Tara.
“How old are you?” Giles asked.
“Nineteen in real terms,” Anya said looking down.
“The contract is illegal,” William pointed out.
“I have no function,” Anya whispered fearfully.
“But we need her as a witness,” Tara said quickly. “So we need to take her with us.”
“Yes, quite so,” William agreed. “I realize you already have-”
“Your servant,” Giles interrupted quickly as he looked quizzically at Tara.
“Yes, your servant,” William continued. “Would you keep an eye on Miss Anya as well at least until we arrive at Oldenberg in the morning?”
Tara looked at Giles, who nodded.
“With the Captain’s permission,” Tara said bowing slightly to the Captain. The ship’s officer stood and nodded.
“The stewards will bring Miss Anya’s things to your room,” the Captain said. “Mr. Crenshaw’s assets are to be placed under my lock and key and delivered with him to Oldenberg authorities. Please tally your losses, ladies and gentlemen. Now if you will excuse me, the pilot is aboard. We must be underway.”
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“So you figured this all out yourself?” Willow asked wide-eyed. “And I wasn’t there to see it.”
“You were critical,” Tara said as she handed Willow the cases with her small lenses.
“Which one was it?” Willow asked.
“The ultraviolet,” Anya answered brightly from across the room.
“Anya’s hearing and vision have been enhanced,” Tara explained.
“That’s not all,” Willow muttered glancing at the striking girl’s chest.
“No, those are natural, well, they’re a result of my DNA being told to make them this shape,” Anya explained in a helpful manner.
“Are you sure she’s safe with…Claire?” Willow asked in a whisper. “And you? I mean there are stories.”
“Miss Willow, I know who freed me from that man and then gave me a new function,” Anya said looking down.
Willow felt a bit chagrined and shrugged. Tara took the slim redhead’s hand in hers. Then the stateroom door rattled and the rest of the party stepped in.
“We’ll be making port early in the morning,” William announced.
“I would say everyone needs to get some sleep before tomorrow,” Giles said sternly.
“I’ll get Anya settled in,” Tara said fighting a sudden yawn.
“We’ll be over in a bit,” Buffy said as the three young men made their goodbyes. Tara just smiled at the attention Buffy was getting in the process and led Anya to the stateroom.
Tara turned up the light and closed the door. As she turned around Anya looked up and met her eyes. The construct started to ease out of her dress.
“Males are my primary area of training but I’m well-versed in all aspects of inducing orgasm in females as well, Miss Tara,” Anya said softly. “How would you like to start, Mistress?”
“Oh dear,” Tara said in a very tight voice as she pulled Anya’s dress back onto her shoulders. “Its n-n-not l-l-like that!”
“I don’t please you?” Anya asked in a hurt tone.
“No!” Tara said quickly. “I mean you’re very, ummm pleasing but its just I, ahhh, you don’t have to…”
“But I enjoy sex very much,” Anya explained in a confused tone. “It was horrible with Mr. Crenshaw because all he wanted was to win at cards. I haven’t had a single orgasm in months.”
“I know the feeling,” Tara muttered before she realized it.
“I could help!” Anya said brightly.
“N-No, that’s okay,” Tara said rapidly.
“Oh!” Anya said smiling. “Am I a present for the redhead who’s scent was jealous?”
“No!” Tara snapped.
“Now you’re jealous,” Anya said in a frightened tone. “I’m sorry, Mistress.”
“Anya, that’s your old function,” Tara explained as she tried to make her voice calm. “Your new function is to be yourself.”
“That’s only for reals like you,” Anya explained. “I’m just a construct.”
“Reals?” Tara wondered aloud.
“Real humans,” Anya said in a soft, dejected voice.
“Anya, you’re a real human,” Tara said firmly.
“I was made,” Anya said. “I’m a thing. Everyone says so. Sex is all I’m good at. It’s my function.”
Tara reached for Anya’s hands. She clasped them in her own. Anya looked up, her face a mix of hope and fear. Tara smiled.
“These are human hands,” Tara said softly. “Anya, you’re a human who just came to being in a different way. Everybody who’s decent says so.”
“But…” Anya said almost daring to hope. “Decent?”
“Everyone from Lamas to lawyers say you’re human,” Tara assured her. “Even the Pope says you’re a human.”
“I’ve met lawyers on Xanadu,” Anya said defensively. “They never said I was real. They were just all ‘kneel and-’”
“Real lawyers,” Tara said quickly. “There isn’t a lawyer in the Empire who’d say you weren’t human. Xanadu is over the border and out of the range of Imperial law. The only people who go there can afford a million crowns a year for a ‘citizenship’ in a place where the law just means that means they can do anything they want. It’s different here.”
“Different?” Anya said with a shiver.
“Yes,” Tara said earnestly. “And this is different too. Anya, this isn’t about sex, it’s just a human thing.”
Tara took Anya in her arms very carefully and gave her a hug.
“I liked that,” Anya said after Tara released her.
“Any human would,” Tara explained carefully.
“A human thing?” Anya asked with a widening smile.
“Yes,” Tara said with her own hopeful smile.
Anya smiled back and wrapped her arms around Tara and gave her the human gesture back. Her stress showed itself in the vigor she used to return the gesture.
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“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Riley asked as the three men made their way to their cabin. “I mean from security stand point.”
“Correcting injustice rarely consists of simply tossing the miscreant in jail,” William said soberly. “We have to right the rest of the wrong as well. Besides I rather doubt someone would go through all this just to get to our rather unorganized effort with her.”
“I could keep an eye on her,” Liam volunteered. “You know, just to be safe. I wouldn’t let her out of my sight until we get to Oldenberg.”
“We’ll be there early in the morning,” William said.
“We wouldn’t want you to lose your beauty sleep,” Riley added.
“Duty first,” Liam replied.
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“I can’t believe you brought that stuff along as we were running for a boat to who knows where,” Buffy said as they put on their coats.
“Well, it’s just a basic kit,” Willow said defensively. “Just the telescope with the microscope conversion kit.”
“And a few slides and caps and test tubes and stoppers and beakers-” Dawn pointed out.
“One beaker, and it’s a small one,” Willow insisted. “And without an infrared or UV filter you just can’t catch all the possible observations, especially with plants and besides, they were useful.”
Buffy was about to say something but Willow didn’t hear it as the blonde opened the door. There, in the middle of the room Tara Was in the tight embrace of the girl made for pleasure.
There seemed to be no air in the room for the redhead. Jealousy and anger warred in her. Then the slinky demimonde looked Willow in the eye and approached her. Willow wanted to cry and slap her and scream but she couldn’t move. Then the creature had the gall to smile at her like nothing had happened.
“Hello, fellow human!” Anya said happily.
Willow was trying to understand what that meant when Anya wrapped her up in the hardest hug Willow could remember.
“Umm,” Tara started until Buffy held up her hand and yawned widely.
“Let’s save the explanations for the morning,” Buffy said. “I think this is going to take a while.”
“Hello!” Anya said as Buffy finished. The blonde couldn’t get out her protest before she too was engulfed in a hug. It was all Willow could do not to laugh at her friend’s gasp.
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Willow was dancing with Tara to a string ensemble. They were both in gowns of silk. Buffy was nearby, surrounded by tall men in white tie and tails. Anya slinked along as she pounced and fiercely hugged people. Giles beckoned from the side of the dance floor as he held up his watch. Then the musicians each turned into different soldiers from all over Europa in their best parade uniforms. They moved into line with allied soldiers and leaped at each other at their easily predicted opponents. They shattered as they collided and turned into broken puppets.
Willow looked up at the darkness where the strings disappeared. A deep, almost subsonic amphibian croak echoed in her ears. She turned to Tara in a panic and saw the girl was sitting on the dance floor with it’s almost jeweled colors. Then Willow saw what Tara sat on wasn’t a dance floor at all but rather the wings of a damselfly almost as large as the frog above her. She looked up and saw the warty giant open his jaws.
“Willow, it’s a dream, it’s all right!” Giles shouted.
Willow shook her head and stared at him, finally realizing she could feel the pitch of the ship and see Alex’s frightened eyes from beyond the next bed. Willow looked at Giles as she grabbed his hand.
“I know what they’re after!” she said breathlessly. “Giles, I know why this is happening! I’ve got it!”
To Be Continued
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Edited by: jixer at: 8/4/03 8:33 am
I like the way they approached each other , scared but you know still moving forward and Tara so sure Willow would flee , i bet willow's response surprised her. And I love how you brought in the title of the story here, it's Tara's search to find her place in the world. Loved the updates, thanks so much. 
Yes, Tara wants to save Anya but she's learned there are limits to what she can do. That said seeing something wrong does grate on people of conscience.
That is such an Anya like thing to say.
at: 8/2/03 10:36 pm
I have to admit a certain fondness for Jealous Willow, and IMO one of the cutest moments in canon was Tara's glare when Willow was talking about the Aprilbot and the sheepish look from Willow.