by Sassette » Wed Apr 10, 2002 11:03 pm
Here's the next bit - if anyone missed 44a, it's on page 18 of this thread (if you are using the 20 messages per page option ... if you're using 25 per page, it should be on page 14, I think).
Answering Darkness - 44b Mea Culpa (continued)
“So … what, exactly?” Buffy asked slowly. “You think Tara has this Big Evil book?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” Giles responded.
"And just how did we reach this fascinating conclusion?" Xander asked, his expression doubtful. "I mean, come on - what would Tara be doing with the Big Book O' Evil?"
"It's not what she's doing with it - it's what she isn't doing with it," Giles said cryptically.
"If she had a Book of Bad, she'd have said something," Buffy said flatly. "She's not the type to just ... keep that to herself."
"Like she told us she was a demon?" Giles pointed out, raising an eyebrow.
"That's different," Xander said, frowning at Giles. "And she's not a demon."
"I didn't say she was," Giles shot back. "But the fact remains that she thought she was, and she didn't tell us."
"And just what's wrong with that?" Anya demanded. "Humans have an irrational fear of demons, even ones that are as good and nice as Tara, so why should she tell us? Besides, that's personal."
"I'm sorry," Giles responded, suddenly sounding very tired. "This whole thing just … it has me on edge. I feel like I'm missing something - something very obvious and very important. I'm not saying that she's hiding this deliberately," he went on, trying to explain what was running through his head. "I'm merely saying that she may have it. She doesn't necessarily know that she has it."
"And just how would she have a book when she doesn't know she has the book? Wouldn't not knowing mean not having?" Buffy asked.
"She's already found and opened several hidden compartments in her mother's trunks. I'm guessing that if she has it, and I rather think she does, then it's in yet another compartment," Giles theorized.
"Didn't she open all of those?" Dawn asked tentatively. "I mean, didn't she say, 'Hey, guys, this is all of them'?"
"Yes, but that's the compartments she could find and open," Giles said. "There may be more, and she either doesn't know about them, or was unable to open them, so didn't bother mentioning them."
"Fine," Buffy said flatly. "Let's go." She hated the idea of interrupting Willow and Tara ... no matter what they were doing. After everything they'd been through, they really needed this day of peace to not worry about anything more serious than what they would have for dinner.
"Buffy, there's no need to be angry about it," Giles said softly.
"Fine - there's no need. I'm still going to be angry," Buffy said tightly, throwing books into a bag with little regard.
"This is to help them," Giles said seriously. "If I could give them more time to themselves, I would. We'll just have to give them some time alone when this is over."
"When will it be over?" Buffy demanded. "This whole thing has been going on for years and years, and we had no idea - and you think that it's ever going to be over? What are we going to do - march into Hell and kindly explain to a God that he shouldn't mess with Willow anymore?"
"Buffy, I -"
"No, Giles. Face it - this whole thing might never be over. It'll just be one thing, then the next, and the next. Angel, Willow, Glory - they're all links in a chain that goes way WAY back, and it pisses me off," Buffy nearly growled.
"And we have to do everything we can to break that chain, or you're right, it will never be over," Giles said sternly. "So pick up the books, and let's go."
Dawn watched the whole exchange in silence, her eyes wide. When Buffy nodded tightly and began packing the books with more care, she put the chalk away, pocketing her protractor and rolling up the star chart carefully.
"Should I close the shop?" Anya asked, half-hoping they would say no so she could generate more money, and half-hoping they would say yes so she didn't miss anything and could make sure Xander didn't witness anything he shouldn't.
"How about we give you a call if we need to, okay?" Xander said, kissing Anya lightly.
"Yes, that will be fine," Giles agreed with a nod.
"Come on over when you close the shop," Buffy said, standing up and lifting the stuffed bookbag.
"I'll even pick up dinner," Anya said with a nod. "Just give me a call later to tell me what you want me to bring."
"That's sweet of you, honey," Xander said with a smile, giving his fiancee another kiss. "See you later, okay?"
"Oh, absolutely," Anya said, waving as they left the shop, heading to the Summers' house. "Well, at least we waited until today to have an emergency," Anya noted to the empty shop, then returned to counting the money with a little shrug. But even the money didn't soothe the worry in her heart.
The Scooby Gang piled into Xander's car, oddly silent during the drive. The route was familiar to Xander, being one he had driven many times in the past, and would likely drive many times in the future. Even so, there was a sense of strangeness all around him. He felt twitchy and strange.
That could, he supposed, have something to do with Giles' outburst at the shop, and what was pretty much an admission that he had no idea what was going on. Or perhaps it was knowing that he could very well be interrupting something extremely intimate between his best friend and her girlfriend when they arrived at Buffy's house.
Sure, he made jokes and all - what man wouldn't? He even thought about it on occasion. But the idea of actually - no. That was vaguely disturbing on a 'Best Friends Don't Do That' level. And yeah, there had been that whole Fluke thing when he had looked at Willow in a whole new way, but that was dead and buried and he was a much happier person for it. After that, he just thought of Willow as a sister. Her certainly loved her more than a friend, but it was a warm and fuzzy platonic love. And Tara - Tara was ... pretty much his sister-in-law, really.
So as he drove, he prayed to all that was holy that when they arrived at the Summers home, Willow and Tara were dressed and playing checkers.
All too soon, Xander pulled easily into the driveway, everyone piling out of the car. He lingered towards the back of the group as they cautiously approached the door, heavy bags of books in hand.
"So, ummm ... do we, uhh ... knock? Ring the bell?" Dawn asked uneasily, shifting from foot to foot.
"It's our house, Dawn," Buffy said with a roll of her eyes.
"Well, yeah, but ... what if they're, ummm ..." Dawn said, her eyes widening.
"I'm sure if they're doing anything we shouldn't see, they're doing it upstairs," Giles said with a sigh. "Just open the door."
Buffy and Dawn shared a significant look. From what they had seen that morning, Willow and Tara had definitely done >something< in the Dining Room. Of course, they really couldn't tell Giles that.
Taking a deep breath and readying herself for complete and total embarrassment, Buffy rang the bell and opened the door, calling out, "Hello?"
"Huh?" she heard from the living room, followed by a startled squeak.
"Are you guys, umm ... dressed?" Buffy called out cautiously, Giles and Xander freezing behind her, their eyes widening.
"Oh, yeah, umm ... we're, uhh ... dressed. Mostly," Willow said, as the sound of movement and rustling cloth met their ears.
Cautiously, Buffy peered around the corner, seeing Willow and Tara sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table with a chess board between them. The game seemed to be in progress, but along with the chess pieces that had been removed from the board were several articles of clothing.
Tara had no shoes or socks on, and Willow was sitting in a bra and her pajama bottoms.
"Can I have my shirt?" Willow said in an undertone, looking at Tara with pleading eyes.
"I won it fair and square," Tara pouted.
"You guys were playing strip chess?" Buffy blurted out despite herself, stopping Giles and Xander from entering the room.
"Strip chess? How does that work?" Dawn wondered aloud.
"Hey - I thought you said you were dressed," Xander called out at the same time, his hand clapped firmly over his eyes despite not being able to see through walls anyway.
"Xander?" Willow squeaked. "I thought just Buffy and Dawn were home. I'm dressed for girl-company, but not boy-company. Buffy, you didn't say we had boy-company."
"Here," Tara said with a smirk, relinquishing Willow's shirt. Quickly, Willow pulled on the shirt, not really caring that it was inside out as long as she was covered.
"Is it safe yet?" Giles asked quietly.
"Mr. Giles?" Tara asked, her eyes widening. It certainly sounded like the whole gang was here. "Honey, your shirt is inside out," Tara remarked.
"Hold on," Willow said, raising her voice so the rest of the Scoobs could hear her. Quickly, she righted her shirt. "Okay, you all can come in," she said.
"Well, that certainly could have been worse," Giles muttered under his breath as everyone filed into the living room.
"Ummm ... hi," Willow said with a little wave. "We were just, ummm ..."
"Playing strip chess? How does that work?" Dawn asked again.
"It doesn't," Buffy said quickly. "There is absolutely no way to play strip chess, and young impressionable 15-year-olds who try to figure it out or invent a way get mysteriously grounded."
"I was just wondering," Dawn said, rolilng her eyes. "It's not like I was planning on playing strip chess with anyone."
"Uhhh, we weren't playing strip chess," Willow said quickly. "It was just, umm ... kinda warm in here. Y'know ... no electricity, no air-conditioning ... so ... umm ... it was all with the warmness, so of course, logically, wearing the uhh, bare minimum is the, uhhh... logical thing. No motive of an ulterior nature there," she finished weakly.
"Great save, sweetie," Tara whispered, her eyes twinkling as she reached out and took Willow's hand in hers across the table. "So, umm ... did something happen?" she asked, turning to the group.
"We are terribly sorry to interrupt," Giles said sincerely. "It's just that ... have you found any other compartments in your mother's things? Something you couldn't open, perhaps?"
Tara blinked slowly. "One of the things had another box in it. I couldn't figure out how to open it."
"How did you open the others?" Giles pressed.
"I just ... they were magick. I just knew I could open them, and then I could," Tara said with a shrug.
"And this other box?" he asked, taking off his glasses and cleaning them industriously. He was half-afraid Tara wouldn't have the book at all, and half-afraid that she did and it held all the answers. There was a part of him that was quite sure he wouldn't like any of the answers to this one, once they had them.
"It's not magick. It just has a number on it, and some symbols along the top and sides," Tara explained.
"Well, maybe it's a puzzle," Willow said, her eyes sparking. "Like a kind of ... you figure out the symbols, and then you know how to open it."
"That's certainly possible," Giles said with a little frown. "May I see it?"
"Sure," Tara said with a nod, starting to rise. Willow stood quickly, keeping Tara's hand in hers, then giving her a tug to pull her to her feet. "Thanks," she said, smiling at Willow.
"Maybe I could look at it, too," Willow said happily.
"No work on Shabbat," Tara reminded her with a little poke in the side.
"Work? It's not work. Dad and I used to play puzzle games all the time on Shabbat. We'll just figure out how to open the box. It'll be like a game," Willow insisted, tugging Tara up the stairs.
Feeling quite sure that he didn't want to hear anything about Willow and Tara making a game of opening the box, Xander wandered into the kitchen. "Anybody need anything?" he called out.
Willow and Tara entered their room, and Tara immediately went to her mother's things, opening one of the trunks. Willow knelt behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck.
"Hi," Willow said softly, smiling against Tara's skin and leaving a light but lingering kiss there.
"Hi," Tara whispered back, her face creasing into a smile and her eyes taking on a warm glow.
"You will let me play with your box, right?" Willow asked, nipping at Tara's earlobe.
"Willow! Everyone's right downstairs!" Tara said, her eyes widening.
"Huh? Oh. Oh!" Willow said, sitting upright as realization of what she had said dawned. She relaxed and rested her chin on Tara's shoulder, turning to look at her lover, a wry smirk on her face. "I meant the puzzle," she said dryly, pointing at the trunk.
"Oh, that," Tara said, a blush crawling up her neck. "Well, yeah, okay," she conceded, finding the box at the bottom of the trunk and pulling it out. "You're sure you and your dad did these kinds of things on Shabbat?" she asked doubtfully.
"Oh, absolutely. He was always finding new puzzles and problems to throw at me on Shabbat," Willow said. "It was something we did together."
"Well, then, Willow Rosenberg, Puzzle-Solver Extraordinaire ... what do you make of this?" she asked, sitting cross-legged and resting the box on her lap. Willow scooted closer, wrapping her legs around Tara's and pressing against her back so she could see the wooden object.
"Hmmm," Willow said, her brow furrowing. She reached out and traced the number 13 in the very center of the lid, then looked at the other symbols.
"You haven't figured it out yet?" Tara teased, twisting her neck so she could look at Willow's face.
"Gimme' a few minutes," Willow said absently, absorbed in the task at hand.
Tara let herself relax, stifling the absurd urge to start giggling. Having Willow wrapped around her while she was thinking was focused on something else was an odd experience, certainly. Willow turned the box, examining the sides and the lid, shifting against Tara as she did so.
There were five different kinds of symbols on the box, Willow noted. Pentagrams, Eight-pointed stars, dots, lines, and triangles were strewn haphazardly around the smooth wood, and Willow counted, finding that the number of symbols was different for each one.
As Willow counted the symbols, Tara grinned to herself. She was a little disappointed by the interruption of their friends, but it had still been a wonderful day.
She and willow had spent the morning making love, and then Tara had insisted Willow sleep while she went around and cleaned up the candles and things. Willow had protested, but Tara had put her foot down, and Willow had acquiesced.
Once the dining room had been returned to its original state, and she had retrieved their panties, she had set out lunch and gone to wake up Willow.
Lunch had been fun and full of laughter, and Tara smiled at the memory. After that, she had been at something of a loss as to what to do, when Willow had suggested chess. Tara still wasn't sure exactly how she had been talked into playing the strip variety of that game, but she certainly wasn't sorry. No, she was only sorry that the game had been interrupted, because she was actually a very good chess player, and Willow had been pretty surprised.
"Eight, three, one, two, five," Willow muttered, tracing the symbols idly.
Tara giggled, unable to stop herself.
"What?" Willow asked, peeking at Tara and frowning a little.
"It's just ..." Tara giggled, her eyes dancing as she peeked back at Willow. "I have Sexy Thinking Willow wrapped around me, playing with my box," she explained, laughing again.
Willow chuckled, and grinned at Tara, dropping a little kiss on her shoulder. "I'll give you some lovin' later, baby. Let me finish this," she said, her eyes dancing as she turned her attention back to the puzzle.
"Eight eight-pointed stars, three triangles, one dot, two lines, and five pentagrams," Willow said, with a small frown, then her expression cleared and she laughed delightedly. "That's so easy!"
"Umm ... huh?" Tara said, peering at the box.
"It's the Fibonacci Series," Willow said, wiggling excitedly, then blithely pushing symbols in different combinations seemingly at random. Finally, she pressed down on the thirteen in the center of the lid. A little audible 'click' echoed across the room, and Tara turned to gape at her lover.
"You figured it out that fast?" she asked.
"Well, yeah, it was ... I mean, the Fibonacci Series," Willow said with a little shrug. "I mean, if you know it, it's just ... kinda' easy. Really. Because it's really distinctive."
"Okay," Tara said, drawing out the word. "Show me," she requested.
"Well, it's this ... it's the mathematical series developed by Leonardo Fibonacci in the 12th century," Willow started to explain. "It's later been applied to all sorts of things, but you figure it out by starting with one, then adding the previous number to get the next number."
"But if it starts with one, then there's no previous number," Tara said with a little frown.
"Well, you can consider zero to be before one, so it goes one, one, two, three, five, eight, thirteen and so on. This one went up to thirteen," she said, pointing to the number thirteen in the middle.
"So after that would be twenty-one, then thirty-four?" Tara asked.
"Yep," Willow confirmed, kissing Tara on the cheek, then flipping up the lid of the box.
A wave of malevolent energy poured forth and slammed into Willow, making her gasp as her eyes rolled back in her head and she barely held onto consciousness.
"Willow?" Tara called out, slamming the box shut, then turning to her lover. She had felt ... something ... dark and icky pouring out, but whatever it was, it had clearly hit Willow harder than it had hit her.
"Oh, God ... that hurt," Willow wheezed, laughing a little. As soon as the box had been shut, her world had righted itself, but she found herself a little out of breath. "Oh, wow - let's not do that again."
"Absolutely not," Tara agreed vehemently, pulling Willow close to her. "Are you all right?" she asked softly.
"Oh, yeah, fine," Willow said with a weak laugh, pulling a brave face and sitting up. "What was in there?" she asked.
"Oh, ummm ... I don't know," Tara said with a little shrug and a half-smile. "I kinda' slammed it shut really fast, and didn't have a chance to look."
"Well, we should hand it over to Giles," Willow said, getting to her feet on unstead legs.
"Hey, easy there," Tara said, steadying Willow's swaying form. "How about you get in bed, and I'll give the box to Mr. Giles?" Tara offered.
"I'm kind of ... I feel fine," Willow protested. "I just ... that felt weird. But I'm fine now. All with the good."
"Willow," Tara said slowly, her voice taking on a hint of admonishment. "You've been through a lot recently, and you just got hit by something weird. I'd feel a lot better about it if you'd just ... take it easy for a bit."
"Going down stairs isn't not taking it easy!" Willow said, her voice rising slightly.
"Hey, hey," Tara said, her face growing concerned. "I'm sorry. I'm just ... I don't know why that happened, and I ... I kinda' want to keep you well away from that thing until we know what's going on."
"No, you're right," Willow said weakly. "I just ..." How could she explain to Tara just how useless she was feeling right now? For the past few weeks, she felt like the most important things she had done involved vomiting and staying in bed, and she wasn't used to that. Not anymore. After spending so much time as a hardcore Scooby researcher, and then as the Big Gun witchy backup, this new passive role didn't sit well with her.
And then there was Tara. Tara was being wonderful - there was no doubt about that. Still, Tara kept acting like she wanted to wrap Willow in wool and leave her in their room forever, and Willow knew she couldn't live like that. She was sure Tara would get over it once this whole thing got solved, but it was starting to wear on Willow's nerves. Willow was a do-er, and she had spent far too much time just sitting recently.
"Just what, baby?" Tara asked softly.
"You know me - I like to know everything all at once," Willow said with a self-effacing smile. No, she wouldn't bother Tara with what she was feeling. Tara certainly had enough to worry about without her piling on something else. And this whole situation was her fault anyway - the least she could do would be to just cooperate. "Just ... let me know as soon as they figure something out, okay?" Willow asked, forcing a smile and hoping her drama classes had paid off.
"I will," Tara said. "And ... I'll be right back up. I'll drop this off with Giles and be back in a jiffy," she said, pecking Willow lightly on the cheek, then scooping up the box.
Willow sighed, moving to the bed and crawling under the covers. If she were being honest with herself, she had to admit that she really did feel pretty shaky after that whatever-it-was. Still, she just wished ...
"Wish what, Willow?" she asked herself aloud. "Wish that you weren't a magick addict and a burden on everyone you love?" she muttered bitterly.
She was supposed to be the strong one - to take care of everyone. Instead, everyone had been taking turns taking care of her - even Dawn.
She sighed and shifted her shoulders, trying to get comfortable. There was something kind of ... galling ... about how little she had been able to do for herself. And if her illness progressed - if the spell to expel the Trickster's influence and keep his darkness at bay hadn't worked - she would be able to do less and less.
And Tara would have to watch her wither away and die.
Tears stung at Willow's eyes and she grew angry at the unfairness of it all. Tara didn't deserve to be stuck with her. If she was all sick and helpless and dying, it would ... it would break Tara's heart to see it. And how long would it take? How long until she just had so much darkness in her blood that it couldn't carry oxygen to her cells?
She would suffocate - drown in darkness, and Tara wouldn't be able to help her.
And she wouldn't do that to Tara - she couldn't. She couldn't let Tara be there for her and comfort her as she died slowly and painfully. She couldn't let Tara witness that.
Willow shook her head, clearing away the thoughts. It was pointless to think about this anyway. It was only >if< the spell didn't work that she had to worry about it. And even then, she wouldn't have any major decisions to make. That decision was already made.
She wondered idly if Tara would be very angry with her, or if she would understand and forgive if it came down to it and she had to leave Tara and Sunnydale behind, for their own good.
at: 4/10/02 11:58:21 am
