hey there. i just started working on something and i thought someone [out there, somewhere] might get a kick out of reading it. so, here it goes:
Title: The Path
Author: kim [yeah yeah, anonymityrocks etc. whatev.]
Rating: i'm going to go with PG-13 just to be safe, but chances are that i won't surpass PG. call me chaste, but i don't want to write anything that i couldn't show to my mom.
Summary: This is a fic set in Season Three where Willow and Oz actually broke up after the events in Lover's Walk. I was just sort of curious to ponder the idea of Willow meeting Tara in high school and never found any fic concerning it [by the way, if anyone has written a fic like this, I'd be so excited to read it, so key me in.] The story roughly takes place around The Zeppo-ish time period. The chronology might seem alittle weird, but i'm hoping it makes sense from context.
So, here it is:
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The PathCordelia Chase pulled her keys out of the ignition and took a breath. She spied her purse out of the corner of her eye. It was on the floor. With a dull ache in the area of her healing wound, she leaned forward to yank the purse up and onto her lap. Rifling through it, she produced a compact which she promptly opened to examine herself in.
‘Alright,' Cordelia mumbled to herself. ‘Time to show these boys what you're made of.' With a charismatic grin to the mirror, she snapped the compact shut and replaced it in her purse. She shifted her hand around through the contents until the texture of the subject she sought had been observed. Cordelia pulled a small Polaroid camera out of her purse. Slightly lame, she knew, but the crowd at the Bronze tonight was bound to contain any number of hot college boys. She figured that having a visual to choose from for each potential boyfriend would help her to fill the void. Not a Xander-shaped void, just the attractive-person-to-spend-time-with void. Not that Xander was all that attractive. Just in a Speedo. She doubted anyone tonight would be wearing a Speedo.
She stepped out of her car and made her way across the parking lot. Already, Cordelia observed a pack of way-mature guys standing around outside. She grinned. What had she been thing with Xander? In tenth grade, the decision had been made that senior boys were the only way to go. By now, all those seniors would be sophomores at their respective universities. She had been a total fool not to take her own advice.
‘Hey there.'
‘Uh,' Cordelia faltered for a second but then smiled flirtatiously, starting to gain momentum. ‘Hi.'
It was enough. Hook, line, and sinker. So she hadn't lost it.
‘I'm Rich. So, what's a pretty girl like you doing here alone?'
Ugh, lame pick up line. It was OK though; there would be plenty more tonight. She hadn't even gone in after all.
He realized that she was losing interest. ‘Well, obviously you're here for a good time, and you don't need an escort for that.' Nope, he'd now dropped off the radar. Last ditch effort. ‘That's a nice camera there. Think maybe we could take a picture?' And that was supposed to be a joke. Rich marveled at just how much he floundered under pressure.
Cordelia looked at this boy for a second. She guessed it couldn't hurt; although, he definitely was not even in the running. With a nod, Rich bubbled with excitement, scooped up the camera, and snapped a picture of himself with an arm around this babe. He handed the camera back to her and smiled triumphantly.
She rolled her eyes. Waste of film.
Suddenly, she heard a smash of glass and an array of screams. Looking behind her, Cordelia saw a drooling, yucky, evil thing heading straight for Rich and her. Instincts took over, and she ran to her car while screaming at the top of her lungs without so mush a casting an eye towards Rich. It didn't even occur to her. Maybe he was behind her, but at that point, she couldn't have noticed either way. Once inside her car safely, Cordelia glanced out to see the fiend ripping apart anything in sight. Luckily, most people had run inside or at least out of the fray. The thing had acquired someone's torso, but the carnage was so disgusting that the victim was unrecognizable. She was aware that the one killed probably had been Rich, but Cordelia chose not to even explore that train of thought as she drove away, shocked and frightened.
_______________________________
‘Hey Buffy, nice shoes. Are they new?' Willow asked Buffy as she shut her locker.
Buffy continued to head in Willow's direction until she was standing beside the other girl, watching the locker close. ‘Well, not exactly. They were a Christmas present. So, you know, a few months old. But points of noticing. Finally.'
Willow looked embarrassed. ‘Well, I—'
‘No, it's cool. I understand that you've been a little not here in any capacity. With the whole Oz thing,' she shrugged. ‘Noticing was good though. You seem better lately.'
‘You know Buffy, you're right. I mean yeah, so I was wallow-y for a little while. And I do feel better. Not perfect. But better. In fact, you might say I'm feeling chipper. There's something great about returning to school after your February break. All fresh and invigorated to just tap all the knowledge possible out of— Oops!'
Willow stopped paying attention to her surroundings during that intended manifesto about the joys of learning and had slammed head on into another student, spilling the student's notebooks and papers on the floor.
‘Good form, Will.'
‘I guess I shouldn't be talking about tapping knowledge so early in the morning. I get all excited and spaz out.' She grinned.
‘Like ten cups of coffee.'
‘Oh! Speaking of, the last couple of days, I've been dying for a mocha! After school, we should..' She glanced down at the girl, still struggling with her papers. Bending down, she said, ‘I'm sorry, that was totally rude of me.' She handed a few papers to her.
The girl pushed her head up and looked at Willow in the eye with a grateful smile. Immediately, she reddened and glued her eyes down on the papers she was handed. ‘D-don't worry about it. I was s-sort of lost and was wandering around.' The volume of her voice trailed off as she spoke. Nervously, she picked up the remaining papers off the floor.
Willow spied one of the girl's notebooks right behind her. It had spilled open when it fell, revealing an elaborate doodle. Willow stared at it for a second before looking at the girl and saying, ‘One more right behind you.'
The girl looked at Willow shyly for a moment and then twisted around to grab the notebook before standing up. If it was possible, her face had become even more red. ‘Th-thanks. I should g-go.' Willow stood up as she waked away hurriedly.
‘Well, I think that was officially the longest time spent picking up papers ever. Better not be aspiring for a career as an Indy 500 mechanic.'
Willow continued to look in the direction which the girl had walked. ‘She was weird.'
‘Probably just lost and confused. I mean, on my first day, I hung out with Cordelia.'
‘I guess. Maybe she's into Wicca.'
‘Are witches traditionally into the ritual of slamming into each other in hallways? Kind of a Wiccan high five?'
‘What?' Willow looked at Buffy, confused. Realizing, she said, ‘Oh, no. At least not that I'm aware of. We could start a trend though. Unless there already is one. A Wiccan high five I mean. Then, we could be labels blasphemers and that's never good.'
Buffy decided to get Willow back on track. ‘So why do you think she's into Wicca?'
‘Oh yeah, right. She had a symbol sketched in her notebook and I know I have seen it before. I can't remember where exactly, but I'm thinking supernatural.'
‘Well, I guess it's something to keep an eye on.' She started to head toward the library.
‘So, how was patrolling last night?'
‘Hm, uneventful. Wandered around the cemetery, staked a vamp. Sat around. Oh!' She held up her hands triumphantly. ‘Look! Did my nails! They are perfect with no dust or anything trapped underneath. But um, yeah. Boring.'
‘No shows from Angel or Faith?'
‘Neither one. Not that Angel was definite. And I definitely can live without seeing Faith.'
‘I hear that. I mean, it's not like I'm bitter or anything though.'
Buffy gave Willow a look. ‘Yeah.' They smirked. She went on, ‘I'm just saying though, sometimes I wish I knew beforehand if a night would be quiet. I would have gone Bronzing it.' Willow nodded as they stepped into the library.
Giles glanced up. ‘Ah, Buffy. How was patrolling last night?'
‘The reg. Dark. Spooky. Vampire. Poof.' She held up her hands. ‘I got pretty.'
‘Right. Nice to see you delegating your time responsibly.'
‘And I don't even use a planner. So where's your Mini-Me?'
‘I resent that. He is sick. It seems that moving from the dank atmosphere of England to the land of suntans and bleach does quite a number on the system.'
Willow glanced up. ‘You're right. It's a nightmare here.'
Giles smiled. He noticed that Willow had pulled up a few of his volumes and was leafing through them. ‘Looking up any spells in particular?'
‘Not really. I helped a girl with her books today and I noticed magical doodles in her notebook.'
Buffy added, ‘You have got to take those magic doodles seriously, Giles.'
Although Buffy had been mock-serious, Giles replied, ‘Quite right. On a Hellmouth at least.'
‘It could have just been some heavy metal band's logo.'
Willow brought her head up, focusing on Buffy. ‘I know, but there was just something about her. I need to check this out.'
Buffy looked to Giles while Willow returned to the page she had been reading. He shrugged. With a whoosh, the door to the library flung open, and Cordelia charged in.
‘Buffy! You're here! Thank god. Where were you last night?'
‘Um, Cordelia. Hey. Out killing evil things for the most part.'
‘Well, you did a horrible job.' She dug through her bag and pulled out a Polaroid. Handing it to Buffy, she said, ‘Here! Kill! Kill!'
Buffy looked at the picture. Cordelia and some guy. Obviously not Brad Pitt, but he didn't seem that bad. ‘Is he evil?'
‘Yeah. Duh! Look at it, it's all icky and scaley and fangy!'
Buffy looked at the picture a little closer. ‘Those are braces, not fangs.'
‘What?' she demanded impatiently. ‘Oh, not him! Look behind us.'
‘Oh ok. I see it. Yeah. Evil.'
Giles stepped forward and asked, ‘Might I see that?' Buffy handed it to him. After a moment, Giles concluded, ‘I believe it was conjured.'
‘Oh! Really?!' Willow suddenly exclaimed. Everyone stared at her. ‘I just mean, you know, conjuring equals really powerful magic equals...' She looked around again. ‘Um. Evil. Kill.'
Cordelia glared in Willow's general direction. ‘Is Wesley here?'
‘No actually, he's quite sick.'
‘Oh.' She was disappointed.
Buffy said to Giles, ‘Well, looks like we have some new evil to fight. Now let's learn how.'
‘And do it fast!' Cordelia yelled as she headed out the door. ‘Can't be losing any more potential prom dates to this thing!'
‘Well, now with that fun, exciting and righteous new motive, we should really get cracking.'
‘Right Buffy. Although I'm not sure who conjured it, this symbol right here is clearly a sign that its source is a witch.'
‘So,' Willow considered, ‘it could be someone amongst us. Oh! And! Monster is new; girl I bumped into today is new. There could be a connection. I get dibs on espionage!'
‘Espionage?' Xander asked as he walked into the library. ‘Like James Bond? Cool. I can help.'
‘Ohhh no, Buster. This is mine. I called it. There is a sacred code to be followed when one calls dibs.'
‘She's got you there, Xander,' Buffy admitted.
‘Whoa, down girls. Didn't mean to step on any toes.' Xander backed up with his hands in the air.
Willow rose. ‘I should get started! I'll report back and you guys make sure to tell me if you learn anything important. If she spits fireballs or something, you know? Bye!' She headed out the door, seeming very excited.
‘That was.. sort of weird,' Buffy said, looking in the direction Willow had gone.
‘I'm going with yeah,' Xander replied. ‘Although, it's good to see the Willster abnormally excited about something. She's just been so down lately. So, who are we spying on?'
‘New girl.'
‘New girl? What? Is she a member of the Spice Girls?'
‘Spice Girls? Huh?'
‘Just thought Giles might like a little British humor.'
Giles was not amused. ‘Mush appreciated, Xander.'
‘Never mind that.' Buffy picked up the Polaroid Cordelia had taken in front of the Bronze. Handing it to Xander, she added, ‘Exhibit A. Evil, prom date-mauling, conjured up demon. Possibly by aforementioned new girl.'
‘So Cordelia was never human after all. Figures. Praying Mantis lady, Inca Mummy girl, just another notch on the belt for the old Xandman.'
‘I swear. Leave it to Cordelia to produce a photograph like that,' Giles sighed, taking off his glasses in order to clean them. ‘Actually, if you look behind that display of hormonal ecstacy, you'll find the scaled, evil monster.'
‘Oh! Yeah, it's icky alright.'
‘Giles, I'm going to patrol tonight, but I think we should see if there's anyone else around capable of making this mojo.'
‘I concur. Granted, the symbol is obscured, but it can't hurt to brush up on spells and check mug shots.'
‘Hey guys. Hello? Xander? I can help! Trust me, you'll learn what you need to know from this new girl. Just describe her, and the Xandman will find her, woo her, and get the details.'
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to be continued, of course.
so, tell me what you think. oh yeah, and be critical if you can. it's more fun to know what i should do to make it better. well not necessarily fun in the traditional sense, but you know. it's cool.
peace.
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hey, i just wanted to thank people for the feedback. and for the record, i was curious as to whether or not spice girls/austin powers references were out of place, but i opted not to bother looking it up. shame on me. i might go back and think of new, accurate allusions if i'm feeling motivated. but that may or may not happen.
here's an update. sorry if the ending is sort of abrupt in this case, but the next part has some pretty heavy description. as it's been pointed out, i write description that might as well be described as dadaist for the most part cause frankly, i can't understand what i wrote half the time afterwards. plus i want to rework the characterization since it's way important to get the characters you're writing.
by the way, i had a hell of a time writing tara, so any insight in that department anyone can give me would probably help me out a lot. as much as i try, sometimes i just don't get her. i'd have probably gotten her a crystal ball for her birthday too, though i don't like to admit it.
sorry. tangent. here's the update:
_______________________________
Xander stepped into the cafeteria while lunchtime was in full throttle. He recognized most of the students who were immediately surrounding him, so he guess none of them were New Girl. The kids he didn't know were mostly underclassmen, as they traveled in packs, so they were easy to weed out. He noticed a lone blonde girl towards the far end of the cafe. Probably New Girl. He'd chance it.
Gaining momentum in his walk across the room, Xander put on his danger look. He grabbed an apple off an unsuspecting kid's tray as he walked by and took a bite. Oh yeah, He's Bad. All of a sudden, some kid pulled his chair out to put his tray away. The jerk startled Xander, causing his to stumble and toss the apple across the room. ‘Sorry!' he called out absently. He looked at New Girl. She was engrossed in her notebook. It was alright. Still smooth.
‘Hello,' Xander mustered seductively.
The girl glanced up, surprised. ‘Um, h-hi?'
‘So, what're you reading?'
‘This? Oh, well, n-nothing. Just stuff.'
‘Yeah? Stuff? That's cool.' He sat down. ‘I really love.. stuff.'
‘Th-that's nice.'
‘So, I'm Xander. And you're quite a Girl. Some might call you New. And what's more, others might call you New Girl.' Xander knew his charming voice rocked, so he stopped paying attention to the words he spoke, figuring New Girl would be too entranced to hear them anyway. ‘So what're you doing after--'
‘Oh look, it's the man and his new conquest.'
Uh oh. Cordelia. He and New Girl looked up at her. ‘Why, hello Cordelia. And might I be the first to say Goodbye Cordelia.'
She leaned on the table, addressing New Girl, ‘Just don't get into near-death situations with this little puppy. Then he just follows you around and humps your leg all the damn time.'
New Girl looked flustered. ‘I-I'm going to go. Time for c-class.' She gathered her stuff and left in a hurry.
‘Now look what you did! I was trying to save your life here!'
Cordelia scoffed. ‘Whatever.'
Xander watched her go. He didn't get it. Why wasn't New Girl fawning? Well yeah, he was not exactly James Bond in the slick department, but he got girls. Cordelia, for example. And Willow. And Faith. Plus, Buffy. Well, technically, Buffy had been under a spell, but still. The whole student body hadn't been able to keep their hands off them! It had totally been like that episode of Saved by the Bell. It just made no sense. He glanced around the room, completely perplexed. A few tables over, a girl was staring at him. He knew her. She was Anya, Cordelia's friend. Pretty new, pretty hot. A little weird. Wait! It hit him like a really hard thing going really fast. Anya was New Girl. That means New Girl had been looking at him. Oh, how the tables had turned.
_______________________________
Last class of the day and Willow still hadn't come across the New Girl. In fact, she had specifically skipped lunch in order to search every part of the school for her, but still, she had no luck. At least she was able to perfect her strategy for syphoning information from her suspect. So long as she could find her. Willow was beginning to think that she was a figment of her imagination.
The bell rang, and Willow looked up to check the clock. It was time for last block. She sighed and headed towards the door. She figured she might have time to continue in her search after school. Once in the classroom, Willow sank into her desk and began to review the plan. This would work. She knew that if she could just get near New Girl, she could figure things out.
Ms. Murray addressed the room, ‘Class, your attention please. Thank you. We will continue our discussion of 1984 from yesterday. Now, who can tell me--oh. Yes?'
A student not of their class had come into the room. She handed the teacher a transfer notice while stammering an apology for being tardy. Willow watched, completely ecstatic. ‘Everyone,' her teacher began. ‘This is Tara Mackay. She is apparently new so let's do our best to welcome her to Sunnyvale.'
The class continued to sit unresponsively, so the teacher motioned for Tara to take an empty seat and resumed the 1984 talk. Tara sat down at an empty seat near the back of the room. She was nervous, spending a considerable amount of time staring at the floor.
Motioning wildly to Xander, Willow mouthed, ‘New Girl! Look, look!' Waiting for a reaction, she further examined her subject, which was in fact mostly Xander's empty desk. The kid who sat behind him though seemed weirded out. Upon further inspection, she noticed that Buffy had not come to class either. They were quite possibly plotting against her.
‘And Winston's rebellion differs from Julia's in what manner?' Ms. Murray asked the class rhetorically.
Willow thought about it. Or tried to. She had done the reading and all, but other things were occupying her mind at the moment. She reread ‘Phase One: Procure the New Girl's Name' one more time. She sighed. Too bad she wouldn't be able to use it. Plan A had entailed actual conversation in which she would try to befriend the subject and learn her name. Plan B was less direct but still important in case she had choked. It involved looking through school records for all recent transfers and then deducing which one was her subject through what might be referred to as stalking. All together, a half page of notes summed up in one simple declaration made by her teacher. She scratched out all her planning and wrote ‘Tara Mackay' beside it in defeat. Tara. She thought it was a nice name. Not really an Evil Wicca of Death type name. But then again, Buffy isn't exactly the toughest name on the block and she sure proved that wrong. Willow leaned over and pulled her copy of 1984 out of her bag so she might keep up with the class discussion. Hearing the door slam, she glanced up to see Buffy strolling into class.
Ms. Murray mustered a degree of contempt reserved specifically for tardy students. ‘Miss Summers.'
Buffy gave her best impression of the ‘who, me?' look while heading to her desk beside Willow. Upon sitting down, Willow started gesturing hysterically to something behind her and to the left. She turned around and saw nothing out of the ordinary. She mimed a ‘what?' to Willow after facing back around. Willow closed her eyes, pointed to nothing emphatically, and threw her hands in the air while mouthing ‘Poof!' Buffy so did not get it. Frustrated, Willow ripped out a sheet of notebook paper and scribbled a quick message on the paper. Buffy read it:
‘Buffy, the New Girl evil Wicca suspect is named Tara Mackay and sits diagonally behind you and to the left. -Willow PS, There is toilet paper stuck to the bottom of your shoe, but don't worry. I don't think anyone noticed.' She looked at her feet, and sure enough, there was a trail of T.P. stuck to her right shoe. With the T.P. shaken off her sole, Buffy mouthed ‘thanks' to her friend. Then she pointed behind her and mouthed, ‘Did she conjure it?'
Willow shrugged helplessly. She mouthed, ‘Give me time.'
Buffy countered with, ‘Can I pitch in?'
Willow looked annoyed. ‘No,' she mouthed aggressively. ‘This is all me.' After seeing Buffy's face fall, she softened and looked distraught over her statement. ‘Sorry.' Buffy just gave a satisfied smile in response.
Class progressed and eventually ended. Willow noted that if she were as efficient as the Thought Police, she'd know everything about Tara already. She also noted that if she were the Thought Police, she'd be really creepy and fascist, which was decidedly not a good trade off.
‘Now class, please read the next twenty pages for tomorrow's class, and remember: try to draw contemporary analogies as you read.' The bell rang. ‘Have a good afternoon.'
Checking to make sure all the toilet paper on her shoe had been eradicated, Buffy stood and looked around. Willow seemed to be dawdling, so she leaned against a desk to wait. ‘I think we should check back with Giles at the library.'
‘Buffy!' Willow whispered forcefully. ‘Plan time. Pretend the library is Bloomingdale's and make like Cordelia. Shoo!'
Her best friend made no sense sometimes. Seriously. Figuring she should just give Willow her way, Buffy turned and marched dutifully from the classroom.
Finally, Willow had thought she'd never leave. Although she was not sure why she felt so possessive over this girl, she knew that Tara was somehow important. Most likely in an evil way, but still, evil was important, especially to the guys who fought evil. Looking in Tara's direction, she noticed that Ms. Murray was still explaining course requirements. She hoped that she was not given a text, as Willow had recalculated the plan during class to center around Tara's lack of materials for the homework. She checked what Tara was doing now. The subject was alone. Willow took a deep breath. Here we go.
‘Hey, Tara.' She plastered a smile on her face.
‘H-hi. Hallway girl, right?' Tara figured this girl was just trying to be polite to the new kid. That smiled was sort of fake.
‘Yup. Well, that's just my superhero name. Normally I go by Willow. So, you liking Sunnydale thus far?' Willow noted that Tara did not have a discernable accent. Also, that stutter was sort of endearing. In an evil way.
‘It's nice. V-very calm town. But school's a little h-harder.'
‘How so?' Maybe she called Sunnydale calm in order to throw Willow off the scent. Figured that playing dumb to Hellmouthy stuff would make her look innocent. Oh yes, Willow was onto this girl's ploy.
‘Just, n-new school. N-new kids and getting l-lost.'
‘Yeah. Makes sense. Second semester of senior year seems totally unfun to be relocating. Do you miss your old friends and stuff?'
Tara didn't reply.
‘Dumb question. Of course you do. So, can I help you with anything? The homework maybe? I'm good at that kind of stuff.'
‘Well, I was, um. Actually, I w-was going to the library. Maybe you could point me in the d- direction?' She needed to go. This girl, Willow, made her totally nervous. Even if she did have amazing eyes. Probably because she had amazing eyes.
‘Library?' Willow's voice cracked. She panicked. ‘Why would you want to go there? Oh, wait. You need a copy of the book for class?'
Tara nodded. Cute but very, very peculiar. Not that Tara thought herself particularly cool. God, that stutter.
‘Well, see, there's something I should tell you. You can't go to the library because, um, we don't have one. No wait, ha ha, I was kidding. We do have one, but Winston is not there. Oh, I mean 1984. 1984 is not there. I hang out there a lot. I mean, because I'm uh, an aide. A library aide. I was looking for it and it's not there. 1984 isn't there I mean. So, that means you can't go there. Sorry. Oh! But I have an idea: I can help you out. I'll go over the reading with you. We can do it now.'
Tara looked at Willow carefully. Her face was hopeful, but she could not guess the ulterior motive it was concealing. Studying after school seemed harmless enough though. Anyway, she didn't really have a choice if she intended to get this homework assignment done. ‘S-sure. Where sh-should we go?'
Yes! Willow was the god of undercover! ‘Oh, I know the perfect place. Do you like mochas?'
_______________________________
‘So, then I told Buffy that the sock was green after all!' Willow grinned while Tara giggled appreciatively to the punchline of the anecdote.
They walked side by side down the blacktop headed away from the Espresso Pump. Their shadows cascaded in front of them as they walked, and during that momentary silence, Tara focused on those shadows, inferring their meaning. ‘Wow, I can't believe it's so late. It will be dark soon; I should g-go home.' There was a hint of nervousness in her last sentiment, but Willow hadn't picked up on it.
‘I could walk you,' Willow volunteered. Parting with Tara was something Willow did not want to do. Her resistance was almost innate.
‘No,' Tara replied definitively. Whoa, too harsh. ‘I-I mean, you s-said you live in this direction earlier, but I'm headed th-that way.' She motioned to the sidewalk behind them.
Willow could see that she wasn't going to get anywhere with arguing. Plus, the longer they stood there meant it was getting closer and closer to nighttime. She didn't want to get stranded out here, and the thought of Tara stuck out here really scared her. ‘Alright, well, I understand. I'll see you tomorrow, right?'
Tara nodded. ‘Thank, Willow. Really.'
She just smiled. They parted ways. Willow headed down the street, and all the time, that smile never left her face. Tara was definitely a sweet girl, and she was also very pretty. Willow made it a point to tell herself that she found Tara pretty in an observational way, not an attraction way. Wait a second, observation.. damn. She completely forgot the point of hanging out with Tara and had just spent the afternoon with her in a hanging out way instead of a spy way. She was so not the god of undercover.
Willow couldn't believe that she forgot something so crucial as her mission. It just didn't seem feasible, but then she just got so caught up with Tara. In a friend way, of course. In fact, maybe even in an Evil Wicca mind trick way. Willow tried to tell herself that was the case, but well, no. That would be a little far-fetched.
The whole way home, she was upset with herself for being so neglectful to her assigned duty to the gang. What if Tara really was evil? Willow hoped she wasn't. She sat in her room and reviewed the sequence of events to figure out just where she had gone wrong. The problem was that Willow couldn't remember when she forgot. Although, she figured that was a given; she probably wouldn't have forgotten at all if she could remember such things. She absently turned on her computer and began to play Solitaire. It occurred to her that Buffy might call for the lowdown on Tara and she'd have nothing to report. The thought of Buffy inquiring why made Willow a little uneasy, but she attributed that to the failure of her mission. Racking her brain, she could think of nothing to report in a clinch other than ‘Tara Pretty,' and somehow, she didn't think that would fly. She would have to find out something pertinent tonight.
Scrolling through the Student Data Base, Willow learned Tara's address. Also, she learned that Tara was born in November of 1980 and that her GPA at time of transfer was 3.5. Not bad. Next, she used an online map of the town to determine the quickest route to that address. She also attempted to remain in public places as it was nighttime in Sunnydale. Now it was time to get her gear. Stakes, crosses, and holy water were the first few items she packed. Also, Willow grabbed her binoculars which she used to use when she and Xander played Bird Watcher as kids. Additionally, she packed a flashlight and the notebook contained all the Taradata which she had collected thus far.
The walk to Tara's house had been quiet, as Willow had been especially careful to be completely careful. She glanced at her nightglow watch that she wore specifically for this mission. It was late; she wouldn't be surprised if Tara had gone to bed.
Perched behind a bush, Willow examined the situation. Every light in the house was out excluding one, which had a window facing the sideyard. She would be able to see inside the window if she shifted a little further in: and.. perfect. Poised with her binoculars, Willow had a perfect view of Tara, sitting down and writing, presumably at a desk. Jackpot!
Willow stared at Tara, scrutinizing her every more. Movement; Tara crinkled her nose. Willow thought that only the Bewitched lady did that. Puzzled, she watched the scene unfold. Something was about to happen, Willow could tell. That nose twitch thing? Oh yeah, totally incriminating. It was coming any moment now. Suddenly, Tara sneezed. Willow smiled. She had never seen anyone sneeze in such a cute way. She was particularly pleased as the sneeze did not have any qualities which Willow might designate as evil in nature.
Something smashed into her. Hard. Willow freaked. It was Cordelia's Polaroid Monster. Oh God! So it was Tara who conjured it all along! It was! It was!
‘Oh, hey Red. Sorry, thought you were the skulking undead.' It was Faith.
‘Faith! But you're not.. you shouldn't do that to people!'
‘I said sorry. What, do you want a Hallmark card spelling it out for you?' She was getting a little defensive but decided to drop it and pursue the situation at hand. ‘So what're you up to here in the bushes with binoculars? You spying on Wolf Boy? Look, Red, you should just get over it already. Put it in the ground.'
‘It's not. I mean, I'm not--'
‘Oh really? Don't tell me it's Xander cause believe me, no big whoop there.'
‘Faith, what? Never mind. Forget it. It's not your business.' She tried to put her binoculars in her bag before Faith could get nosy.
Faith ripped Willow's binoculars away from her.
Damn.
‘Sorry, Red. Gotta keep you honest.' She held up the binoculars and peered into Tara's window. Her eyes widened. ‘You Peeping Tom!'
‘What? No! Not me!' Willow turned redder than a bowl of cranberries.
Faith looked to Willow and grinned. No way she was passing this up. ‘So you're switching teams, huh? And here I thought you were this wicked innocent little thing.'
‘No, I mean, I'm just gathering information!' Willow protested. Probably the wrong choice of words there.
‘About half-naked girls, huh?'
‘What? She's not.. ?'
She handed over the binoculars with a diabolical look on her face. ‘Read ‘em and weep.'
Dumbfounded, Willow took the binoculars and peered up just in time to catch Tara pulling a nightgown over herself. Willow was at a loss. ‘I, I never meant to, I mean, this wasn't what I--'
‘Whatever, Red. I'm not here to judge. In fact, I shouldn't be here at all. This little digression into Willow's Stalker Land has cost me some vamp action. I'll see you later.'
‘Faith, wait. Could you not.. just please don't mention..'
‘This to B? Hey, I got way better things to do than to out the hacker-turned witch. Later.'
‘Bye.' Willow looked back up towards Tara's room. She had gone to bed. Chances were that she would not find any evidence now. Besides, it didn't exactly qualify as safe outside at this point in the night. And if Buffy found her out in the streets, the situation would require an explanation. Frankly, Willow just wasn't sure how she'd even go about wording an explanation at this point. She pushed it out of her head. Or at least tried to. One afternoon was not enough data to fully analyze the situation. She could try to wait on it.
to be continued.
by the way, i decided that they were reading 1984 because it's the book i read in class before Othello. just in case it seemed arbitrary to anyone.
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sorry for disappearing, guys! if i had a good excuse, i'd use it, but honestly, i got nothing. well, i have an update actually. i hope that will suffice. i'll probably finish another one soon, although i guess the validity of that statement might come into question considering how long it took me to type this thing up. either way though, here you go. i had alot of trouble with the atmospheric quality of this, and also, i have come to the conclusion that i have no idea how to write in a stutter. it's necessary to tara characterwise, but i don't feel like i'm doing a very good job with it.
but ok yeah, here you go:
Night had taken over full throttle as Willow meandered home, desperately attempting not to allow the events of the day to smother her mind, like the blackness had all over town. It was past midnight on a school night, and even her planning to stay in public zones proved futile, as an unpopulated public place was really just a back alley minus the walls and smelly dumpsters. Even having Faith around now could almost be considering a blessing.
Faintly, a sound made its presence noticeable through its incessant grating. Willow shivered while the combination of night air and fear manifested itself as the feeling of tiny needles on the back of her neck. She was getting closer to her home, although her legs barely felt like they were moving at all. The redundancy of the grating sound remained, searing through Willow's brain. She checked around behind her path every few minutes, as she perceived the sound to be a signal of danger, but she never registered any threat beyond the original noise.
‘Look, OK. If there is anything there, you better know that I am close, personal friends with the...' Wait, no. Not the Slayer. Demons have sacred vendettas against the Slayer in many cases, and there was no way she was going to open that door. ‘Pope! You hear me? That's right! The Pope!'
If her father could hear her now. Oh man, he'd never forgive her, but now she was on a roll. ‘Do you guys even know how many crosses the Pope owns? And holy water. Don't get me started, because I'll--Ah!'
A figure burst directly in Willow's path, causing her to fly back, stumbling with a grand flop onto the pavement. Immediately, she pulled a cross out of her bag and held it in front of face, her eyes pressed firmly shut.
‘Will?' Buffy squat down beside her friend, whose eyes were squeezed together while her body shivered convulsively. She was sacred out of her wits. ‘Hey, Will. You OK?' Buffy laid a hand over Willow's hand, which was engaged in a white knuckle grip on the cross. She pushed the cross to face the pavement and placed her other hand on Willow's shoulder. ‘Will. Look at me.'
She slowly registered Buffy's voice and opened her eyes to see her just a few inches from her face. Despite her relief, her heart still beat at a marathon rhythm, reminding her of the terror she felt a hew moments prior. ‘Hi, Buffy.'
‘Is everything alright? Why are you out so late? And yelling about the Pope?'
‘Well, I was going home.' It took way too long for her to get that sentence out. She was still wigging over that noise and the dark and the alone and the Polaroid monster.
That was it. Something was officially up with Willow. And this something was new because she was so good this morning. She even noticed the shoes. Buffy assumed that ‘something' was of course just a euphemism for Oz, but she'd talk about it later. ‘I think I should walk you home.'
Willow nodded, feeling slightly more confident with a slayer at her side. She rose slowly, as she still felt shaky.
Buffy helped her up, but stopped her a moment to pull Willow's bag of stuff off the ground. She swung it over her should quickly and heard a crash as an object flew out of the bag, smashing into the concrete. Buffy clenched her teeth when she heard the noise, embarrassed as she turned around to see what she'd destroyed. ‘I think I broke your binoculars.'
‘Leave them. Can we run? The closer I am to fuzzy pajamas and my bed, the less I feel like I'm going to weep or explode or pee or any number of other unpleasant things.'
‘Sure thing, Will. Let's go.' She grabbed her friend's hand for support and led her home.
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Willow stumbled down the hallway, completely exhausted. Well, she was not physically stumbling per se, but her state of mind resulted in a feeling of having faltered with every breath and step. There was something about getting home close to one in the morning while scared out of her mind and then suddenly realizing that she hadn't done her physics or calculus homework yet. Usually resulted in morning time stumbling.
This was the kind of morning where orange juice and pancakes and tall, frosty glasses of milk were in order. With no such time however, Willow pulled a semi-green banana off the bunch and made out the door in a rush, stumbling like a pro. She'd regret the action around 2nd or 3rdperiod, but a least she was on time for school. Now she could go to the library and report, thus avoiding and extraneous questions from the gang concerning her behavior. She didn't think yesterday was anything special though. Her friends had nothing to suspect, especially since Faith would have no what she was she was talking about should she try to spite Willow.
After a quick stop at her locker to dispose her books, Willow made her way to the library. Right in front of the door, she noticed Tara walking by perpendicular to her direction. Her heart shot up, whacked her epiglottis and landed somewhere around her pelvis. Before Tara might notice her, Willow ducked into the library and immediately regretted it. In reality, Willow had been up half the night considering the notion of Tara under the guise of doing her physics homework, but even then after stepping into the library, Willow believed her regret must been stemmed from the evasion of her mission. She closed her eyes and pushed her head back against the door behind her. Why did intense things have to be so incredibly intense sometimes?
‘Willows? Everything alright?' Giles was standing behind the counter. He seemed a little concerned but just confused for the most part.
‘Huh? Who me? I was just um, relieved to see the library. You know me, books are like roller coasters. Only the kind where I don't lose my cookies. Fun and cookie-less.'
‘Alright.. I think.' He looked down at his books for a minute, recalling what he'd been doing before. ‘I have been researching various symbols which are manifested after a demon is conjured, although without any other information as to the specific witch or specific demon, this is all quite fruitless.'
‘Have you talked to Buffy?'
‘Not since yesterday afternoon. Has she anything to report?'
‘That's more of a Buffy-question. I was just thinking that she might have run into the beastie last night since she went out patrolling.'
‘Well if you see her, do tell her to stop by.'
‘Sure thing. But for now, I should head to class. The Roosevelt Administration awaits.'
‘Oh, um, yes. American History. Quite right. Goodbye, Willow.' He was reading again before he even finished the sentence.
Willow waved and headed out the door. The hallways had cleared up to a more manageable population as she headed to class. She thought it strange that no one was in the library, but she decided not to take her blessings for granted as she'd avoided having to explaining her lack of initiative concerning to the Tara investigation. Plus, she had to do double explaining to Buffy over the whole midnight run-in they'd had. Luckily, Buffy didn't do any inquiries at the time, probably because Willow could barely get a sentence out anyway.
It was time to try to push this out of head. Again. Just because it was second semester of senior year, that didn't mean she should slack. Besides, FDR was interesting, and she'd gone to class on way more taxing days before. Once she'd begin to focus it would be easy forget about stuff. Stuff meaning Tara.
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Tara sat in the back of a half-full classroom with her notebook laid open in front of her. Since it was senior first period study, Tara reasoned that a half-full room could be considered a good turn out. Most likely, only complete geeks came to this study. Figures.
She looked at the page the notebook had been open to. On it was a sketch of the symbol she had drawn upon before her first day at Sunnydale High. The intention was to focus one's inner strength and confidence. Tara had figured that she'd need it for starting somewhere all new. At the very least, she was thinking that it might quell her stutter. It didn't seem to work. Well, that wasn't; when she had been near Willow, she felt more at ease. Granted, she was nervous at the same time, but this was a different kind of nervousness than she had felt when, say, that weird boy in the lunchroom approached her. She knew that she was attracted to Willow. That was a given. Beyond that though, something was there. It wasn't necessarily something she could define and she supposed that it was entirely possible that she had fabricated it out of her own attraction. But still, maybe not.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the period, and Tara packed up her stuff, heading out the door. Since she had a little while before her next class, she decided to roam the hallway in an attempt to find her locker. In theory, it existed, since her schedule had indicated its number and combination, but she had yet to actually see this alleged locker. The main problem was the numbering system. Every time she felt on track, the row of lockers would randomly gain or lose fifty digits.
She was lost again. It was beyond her as to why such a small town should have such an obscenely large school. Then again, she was from what one might affectionately refer to as a Cow Town, so her perception of large could have been a little skewed. A map of the world had hung down in the last three classroom she had walked by, so Tara deduced that she was likely in the Social Studies wing. If this school even had wings.
She noticed a new patch of lockers to examine and headed in their general direction, shoving her eyes down to evade any hallway gawking at the new dork. She heard a snicker behind her, so she sped up to get away. As a result, Tara went careening into a student who had just turned the corner.
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Two days in a row? Willow made a mental note to start looking where she was going. If this kept up, she could seen be considered the class klutz instead of the class nerd. Better off avoiding alliteration. ‘Sorry about--' Willow registered who was in front of her. ‘Tara?'
‘W-Willow. Hey.' Her hair had fallen into her face during the collision, and she had opted to use it as a means to cover up her already burning cheeks. She got to her feet, and Willow did the same.
Willow smiled. ‘We have got to stop meeting like this or else I'm going to get a new bruise every time I see you. And that would be an awful lot of bruises.' Wait a second, Willow just realized that she implied something. Maybe Tara didn't notice.
Tara reasoned that Willow didn't recognize the implication of what she had just said. Although, maybe she just meant that she'd just like to hang out. Not impossible. She was that Willow was waiting for a response of some sort. Drawing a blank, Tara just nodded.
‘So, lost again?'
‘Only in the literal sense, really.' Tara smiled awkwardly. ‘I mean, an alignment of Mercury and Venus means that cosmically, I'm as centered as ever.'
Willow thought for a moment. It seemed like Tara had told a joke, but it would be rude to laugh had that been a serious comment. No, who would seriously refer to the alignment of Mercury and
Venus when trying to find their second period class? She laughed slightly and waited cautiously for an approval from Tara.
OK, Tara said to herself, funny is not very good on you. Cut to the chase. ‘A-actually, I'm t- trying to find my locker, but this system is completely beyond me.'
‘Oh, I can help you find stuff. I'm great at this school. I spend a lot of time here.' Willow blinked. ‘Obviously.' She took a step closer to Tara. At this distance, she could clearly see the pink tint that her cheeks had taken on. Definitely cutest thing of the day. ‘Well, since this is the sophomore wing in terms of homerooms, it's probably not here. Seniors are more in the English area. M, right? I bet it's near--' Oz's locker.
Tara watched Willow closely. She knew that a nerve had been hit, but she couldn't know what one. Either way, she felt guilty in having to stare at Willow's face. She looked stricken. ‘So, English wing? I th-think I can get there. Last period yesterday, r-right? Thanks, Willow. I sh- should go though. I don't want to make you late.'
As Tara half-ran away, Willow considered stopping her, telling her that it was no trouble to bring her to her locker, and skipping down the hallway together toward the general area of where Tara's locker would most likely be. It just didn't seem smart. The thought of Oz possibly seeing Tara and her together made her nervous. In fact, the thought of Buffy or Xander seeing Tara and her together was equally on the nerve-racking side of things. She knew they'd assume she was doing research on the whole Polaroid demon thing, and well, she probably would be doing research on the whole Polaroid demon thing. Just the same though, she wanted to approach Tara on her own time and not have to keep dealing with this running into her stuff. Darn high school. Just way too many kids within on spot.
