**supermus: Ahh, you make a good case. But, uhh ... does that mean I >have< to write make-up sex now? Because, y'know, I'm not large with the smut.
Title: Lingering Darkness Part 6 - Answers
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to
pink_overalls@yahoo.com Summary: Willow and Spike have hot monkey sex. Just kidding. I just wonder sometimes if anyone ever actually reads the summary, y'know? Willow makes a discovery or two. Or something like that.
Spoiler Warning: Up to and including "Tabula Rasa" in Season 6 and for the previous story, 'Answering Darkness'. For anyone who has NOT read Answering Darkness (or, come to think of it, people who are nuts enough to reread that monster), it's in the Completed Fics Archive here on the Kitten.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. The stories all mine, though.
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For the purpose of this story, all events of Tabula Rasa took place exactly as shown in the series; however, all subsequent events appear in the story 'Answering Darkness'. This story picks up where the previous one left off.
Lingering Darkness Part 6
Answers
By Sassette
Spike and Anya walked into the kitchen where Giles made tea and Buffy leaned against the counter, an uncomfortable expression on her face.
"They were pretty much silent the whole way home, and once they got out of the car, it was like - Boom! Mega-fight," Buffy was explaining, wincing when she heard raised voices in the other room.
"Well, they have been under a great deal of strain," Giles said slowly, his eyebrows raising slightly as he considered the matter. "I highly doubt this fight is any cause for concern."
"Quiet," Anya hissed, turning her head to scold the slayer and her watcher before pressing her ear back up against the door next to Spike, who was similarly situated.
"That's a private conversation," Buffy said, frowning at the pair of eavesdroppers. "You can't just liten to it - it's wrong."
"I could listen to it just fine if you'd be quiet," Anya muttered, ignoring Buffy and pressing her ear harder against the door.
"Anya, knock it off," Buffy demanded, walking up to the ex-demon.
"Oh, stop being … Buffy, Buffy," Anya said, unable to come up with a suitable adjective to describe Buffy's stick-in-the-mud morals, and how completely inane she felt they were in this situation. "They're our best friends - they're just going to tell us all about it later anyway. Unless, of course, it's really bad, in which case we probably really need to know."
"Dear lord," Giles muttered under his breath. "I … I think I actually agree with Anya on this one," he put forth, putting the final touches on the tea and handing Buffy a cup. "Sugar?" he asked pleasantly.
"Giles - I can't believe you're taking Anya's side," Buffy said in a low tone, automatically taking the cup of tea into her hand. "We left the room to give them private time. >Private<," she stressed. "Not 'hey - have a fight in front of all of your friends' time."
"They aren't talking to us, Buffy," Giles said reasonably, his eyes troubled. "We need to know what's going on with them if we're going to help them."
"Couldn't we just wait until they confided in us?" Buffy asked indignantly, her voice rising slightly.
"Damn - I missed something," Anya muttered. "Since when do Willow and Tara want to have a kid?" she wondered aloud, pressing her ear tighter against the door.
"Kids? Are they nuts?" Buffy asked a little too loudly. "They're way too young to have kids," she finished in a stage whisper, Anya's sharp glance causing her to lower her voice.
"And here I thought this was a private conversation," Giles said placidly, stirring his tea and taking a sip.
"That's before I realized Willow and Tara have, oh, I dunno - Gone Completely Insane," Buffy ground out.
"Quiet," Anya said again, waiting until Buffy's mouth closed before pressing her ear back to the door. "Huh," she said thoughtfully. "I would've thought Tara would be the one who wanted kids," she mused. "She's the mothering type."
The voices raised further, and Buffy could clearly hear the angry tone of Tara's words, if only a few individual words sporadically. Wide-eyes, she looked at the door, memories of her parents fighting washing over her. She jumped when the front door slammed and the house grew quiet.
"What happened?" Buffy asked in a whisper, her face filled with worry. When, exactly, had things gone so wrong? Breakfast that morning had been a cheerful affair, with everyone in attendance and smiles all around - and now Willow and Tara were having a huge fight. How had the day ended up so badly?
"Tara just walked out," Anya said, a frown pulling at her lips. "And I think she's really pissed."
"Yeah, I kind of caught that part," Buffy said slowly.
"What?" Giles asked, dropping his air of polite inattention and putting his teacup down with enough force that the hot liquid splashed over the side and onto his hand. "Damn," he muttered, grabbing a towel to wipe up the spill. "Why - what did you hear?" he demanded, his movements absent as he cleaned, his attention focused on Anya.
"Red wants Tara knocked up now to save her from having The Trickster take care of it later in a thoroughly unpleasant manner, and Tara thinks that's a terrible idea," Spike summed up succinctly. "That's it in a nutshell."
Spike's mending fingers twitched and his nostrils flared, a strange sensation stealing over him. He … he didn't like the idea - not at all. Not that he cared, he assured himself inwardly. It was just that - Tara was the decent sort … the kind of person who really knew what living was all about, and appreciated it, and didn't deserve to have bad things happen. She'd had plenty of bad things happen already, and though Spike would happily kill Giles or that nancy-boy Xander if given half a chance, the lingering romantic in him wanted Willow and Tara to have a chance.
"Huh?" Buffy said, her face the very picture of confusion.
"Oh," Anya muttered as Giles' face paled. "Oh!" she said, again, her eyes widening as the full implication set in. "Oh, that … that's bad. That's very bad."
"Are you quite sure?" Giles asked, a horrified expression on his face.
"It's what I heard," Spike said with a shrug, trying to stamp down on the feelings welling up in him - the ones that made him want to head out and make sure Tara was all right. "Look on the bright side," he said irreverently, fishing out a cigarette despite knowing Buffy would tell him not to light it. "At least you know what the Hell Gods are up to."
"No, we know what The Trickster is up to," Giles said sharply, blinking owlishly as his mind tried to absorb this new information.
"Use your head," Spike said with a sigh, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "If The Trickster needs to make sure Tara has a daughter, then Glory needs to make sure she doesn't."
"Oh, dear lord," Giles murmured.
"Wait a minute," Buffy said, holding up a hand. "You're saying they both want to hurt Tara, and she just walked out?"
"Pretty much," Spike said with forced cheerfulness.
"All right - one of you two talk to Willow and make sure she's okay," Buffy said, directing her words to Giles and Anya. "I'm going to go find Tara," she concluded, taking off at a run to catch up with the witch.
Buffy raced through the living room, stopping up short when a tearful Willow grabbed her arm.
"Where are you going?" Willow asked, her eyes distant, a look of mute horror on her face.
"I'm going to find Tara," Buffy said simply. "Spike was listening," she explained, an apology in her eyes.
"So you know," Willow said quietly, almost to herself. "I - she told me not to send you after her."
"Well, you didn't send me - and you can't stop me," Buffy said with a grin at the look of utter relief her words inspired on Willow's face. "We'll talk later," she went on, running a reassuring hand up Willow's arm. "Now I'm going to go make sure your girl is all right," she finished, opening the door.
"Buffy?" Willow said, making the slayer pause once more. "Thanks."
Willow watched Buffy give a small smile in answer before slipping out the door, closing it gently behind her. Sighing softly, Willow wrapped her arms around herself, feeling suddenly cold in the empty and quiet living room. All her anger and fear seemed to drain way, leaving a kind of numb ache somewhere in the pit of her stomach.
"Want to talk about it?" Spike asked gently, making Willow's head jerk up at the sudden sound of a voice. She hadn't heard him come in. "Not that I care," he added, sitting gingerly on the couch, mindful of his injuries. "But I don't have anything better to do at the moment, so if you want to talk about it, I suppose I'll listen. Giles and Anya are arguing over who gets to talk to you and make sure you're all right. They care - I don't."
"Then why are you here, Spike?" Willow asked softly, remaining standing, her eyes somewhat distance as she gazed at the mantle. It needed dusting, she noted idly.
"I'm on the mend," Spike said with an aggrieved sigh.
"What happened to you?" she finally asked, pulling her gaze away from the gathered dust over the fireplace and looking over at Spike, taking in his injuries distantly, cataloging them in her mind to review later when she had the time to actually pay attention.
"Got mugged by girl scouts," he said with a straight face, a light shrug lifting his shoulders.
"What?" Willow asked, her brow furrowing, her mind returning to the now as she looked at Spike in utter confusion. "Girl scouts?"
"Well, no, not really," Spike said with a small smile, the simple upturn of the corner of his lips the only expression he could manage without pain. "Got your attention though, didn't it? Had a bit of a tussle on the way back to my crypt. Buffy found me, brought me back here."
"Oh," Willow said, moving to the chair and sitting. "What attacked you? New demon?" she asked eagerly, despite realizing in some corner of her mind that she shouldn't be excited at the prospect of a new evil to battle - but she desperately needed something - anything - else to think about. The fight she had just had with Tara, the things they had gone through in the past few weeks, the things they could possibly end up going through in the future … no, no - she didn't want to think about those at all.
"Just humans," Spike said disgustedly. "Beat me up, took my coat and my money, then took off."
"That's strange," Willow said softly, her mind whirring, barely taking in the new information. The fight with Tara - had she really said those things? Done those things? What had she been thinking? "Humans don't usually mug vampires."
No, she knew what she had been thinking - she had been thinking of protecting Tara. She picked up a book from the pile on the table, fiddling with it in her hands, then staring unseeing at the cover. It was that simple, really. She was just thinking of protecting Tara here and now, and not thinking of the future, and what the easy solution really meant in the long run.
"And then the blue fairy came and turned me into a real boy," Spike said, waving a hand and trying to gain Willow's attention.
"Yeah, those blue fairy's are always causing trouble," Willow said absently, her hands tracing the lettering on the book automatically. But why hadn't Tara even heard her out? Why couldn't they just talk about it? She understood now that just picking up the phone and basically giving orders had been wrong - high-handed and bossy and all sorts of other things she shouldn't be, especially with Tara - but couldn't they at least discuss it?
"Of course, that was after Goldilocks decided my porridge was too cold," Spike said.
"I'm sure your porridge is fine," Willow said as she flipped open the cover of the book, turning the pages without really looking. Then again, the subject at hand was Tara being pregnant … and what with Tara being the one who would have to spend nine months sustaining a new life, she really should have the final word in the matter, Willow mused. But if they were really going to be partners, didn't her viewpoint count for anything? Shouldn't she at least be heard?
Maybe Tara was right - maybe she this was just a knee-jerk reaction, and she wasn't ready to be a parent.
"And then Buffy said 'Why Spike, what big teeth you have'," Spike said, his voice raising to a ridiculous pitch.
"Well, they are big," Willow said reasonably, still turning pages. "All fangy and Grrrr," she muttered. Was this a trust issue? Did Tara not trust her to be a good parent? Did Tara think she'd get stuck with all the dirty diapers and the nighttime feedings and the reading and bathing and worrying and all that stuff? Was it money? She could get a good job - Tara wouldn't have to worry about that. She was planning on getting a job anyway, to help Buffy with the mortgage, which was only fair since she and Tara were living there.
"Nice of you to notice," Spike said dryly. "So then I said, 'the better to eat you with'," he went on, knowing very well Willow didn't hear a word he was saying. "And then she screamed like a little girl and ran away, and I swaggered off into the night like the Big Bad I am."
"Yes, you're very scary. Very bad," Willow said. She let out a huff of air, turning pages forward and back at random. Where was Buffy? She was going to bring Tara back with her, wasn't she? Then again, it would be okay if she didn't … it would be okay as long as Buffy found Tara and watched over her - made sure she was all right.
It didn't really matter that she, Willow, wasn't all right - it didn't matter that she kept having these nightmares and these flashbacks, and that the littlest thing would remind her of her time crawling through Hell - none of that mattered. Because, eventually, as long as Tara was all right, she'd be all right, too.
But that's what was bothering her more than anything - she didn't know for sure if Tara was all right. She'd gone through many of the same things, only all the badness was, as it turned out, focused on her. What was that doing to Tara mentally and emotionally? Was she hiding something? Was there something she wasn't talking about?
There had to be. If Willow was having these kinds of lingering issues, Tara had to be as well, didn't she? Unless it really was just her - just Willow, too weak and too powerless to handle a few nightmares and bad memories.
"And then Angel and Tinkerbell showed up, and Tinkerbell sprinkled him with the magic fairy-poof dust," Spike related calmly. This was actually kind of fun. He wondered idly what he'd have to say to break Willow out of whatever stupor she'd managed to get herself into.
"Did he fly?" Willow asked, stopping on a page, staring at the words unseeing. If that were the case - if it were really just her, because she couldn't handle what they had gone through but Tara was handling it fine … what then? She had to tell her - she knew that. And she was going to … she had meant to, several times … it was just so hard to talk about. All these feelings and insecurities, fears and images, were running through her mind, and she felt like she needed to get them all sorted before she could talk about them.
"Well, you only fly if you think happy thoughts," Spike mused aloud. "So, when Angel finally managed to fly, he turned into Angelus, and then he killed Tinkerbell."
"Poor Tink," Willow noted. But what was the point of talking about them at all if she had them all sorted before she mentioned anything? And did she even have to think about this right now? She could decide what she was going to say to Tara later. She could explain everything to Tara … later.
"Willow?" Giles said quietly, causing Willow to look up sharply, seeing the concerned countenance of the watcher looking gravely back at her.
"Huh?" she said.
"See? I told you - she's practically catatonic," Anya said, nudging Giles with her elbow.
"She is not catatonic," Giles said sharply. "She just has a lot on her mind. And, well," he said, turning his attention back to Willow. "If you'd … if you would like to talk about any of it - anything at all - I'm always here to listen. I just want you to know that."
"I know," Willow said, pressing her hand flat against the page of the book in front of her. It was nice of Giles to offer - nice of him to think about her - but she needed time. She needed time and space to sort everything out in her brain and to get everything into their neat little orderly rows, instead of jumbled up all confused-like, spiraling around in her head.
Mostly, she needed to be thinking about something else.
"But I'm fine," she said again, frowning at the page. "I just … I'm fine."
"So fine you haven't heard a word I've said in five minutes," Spike pointed out.
"Did … could we talk about something else?" Willow asked, her voice almost desperate. "Please?"
"Well, all right," Giles said, seating himself on other side of the couch than the one occupied by Spike. "What would you like to talk about?"
"I don't know - Anya? How's the money?" Willow asked, tracing the letters on the page with her index finger. she needed something else to focus on - anything else.
"It's fine," Anya said, frowning slightly. "But I think I've figured out what your problem is. Clearly, you're a WillowBot."
"I am not," Willow said, frowning at Anya.
"The only person … thing … person … who ever asked about my money was the BuffyBot, and here you just asked about the money, so you have to be a WillowBot," Anya said reasonably.
"I am not a WillowBot," Willow said. "I just … I need to think about something else, and I figured you could talk about your money for a really long time."
"So my money is just a distraction? It doesn't mean anything to you? You're not actually interested in hearing how it's doing?" Anya asked, a hurt look in her eyes.
"Oh, no - I didn't mean that," Willow said quickly, reacting automatically to that look of pain rather than Anya's words. "I just … I'm sorry," she said, apologizing without being sure what she was apologizing for.
"Well, I've got something," Giles said slowly. "I was … well, I wanted to do some research. I was looking for a book," he said.
"Which book?" Willow asked, glancing over the page in front of her. It was a simple spell. A little incense, a few candles, some colored sand. The incantation was easy to remember, too, she noted, the words tripping about in her mind.
"Well, I was trying to find the necronomicon," Giles said carefully, hoping that broaching the subject of the book wouldn't lead Willow to any unpleasant memories.
"It's around her somewhere," she said absently, staring intently at the page. They had that incense up in the bedroom - Tara kept some on hand, because it was so relaxing. And the herbs wouldn't be any problem. "Tara must have done something with it - it was in Spike's coat last time I saw it." She had lots of Lethe's Bramble lying around.
"What? In Spike's coat?" Giles asked, his voice raising in alarm.
"Oh, God," Willow said, her eyes widening, missing what Giles had said entirely. Lethe's Bramble? She looked more closely at the page, her eyes finally registering what she had been reading so intently - finally processing exactly what information she had just filed away in her brain. "Oh, God," she said again, standing up quickly, the book dropping to the floor and her hands shaking.
"Willow?" Anya asked, her expression concerned.
"I … I, umm … I have to go," she said, rushing up the stairs and into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. With a shaky breath, she leaned back against the closed door, her eyes screwed up tight. Her heart pounded in her ears and she cursed herself inwardly.
"Stupid, stupid," she berated herself aloud. What the frilly heck had she been thinking? What had she been doing? And exactly how had she managed to find a spell that would make someone open to suggestion?
"I wasn't … I wasn't," she said, opening her eyes slowly. "I wouldn't - I wouldn't have cast that spell," she told herself, willing her heartbeat and her breathing to calm. "I would never cast that spell on Tara."
But if she did …
"No," Willow said loudly, her hands coming up to cover her ears as her numb legs slowly gave away and she slid down the door until she was seated. "I'm not going to."
But if she did …
"No," she said again, through gritted teeth. She wouldn't even consider it - couldn't even consider it. It wasn't an option - it was not something she could do again. There was absolutely no way she could ever …
But if she did … and Tara was open to suggestion …
It would be wrong - oh so very wrong to manipulate Tara like that. It would be the ultimate betrayal, because not only would she be casting a spell on her lover, she'd be doing it with eyes wide-open to the consequences. There would be no forgiveness, no reprieve if she were fount out … no …
But if she did … and Tara was open to suggestion …
They could have a child and Tara would be safe.
Tara would be safe.
"No," Willow said again, her voice a whimper.
"Willow … Willow?" Giles yelled, his voice frantic as he pounded on the door. "Willow - please … are you all right?" he asked.
"Go away," Willow managed to say, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't … not even to keep Tara safe. Not even for the best reasons could she betray her like that again. The first time, she hadn't known, not really - she hadn't considered how very wrong it had been. It was thoughtless, but not cruel. It had been wrong, but not malicious.
She would not have that comfort now, if she did this thing. If she cast a spell on Tara now, it would be all those things - thoughtless and cruel, wrong and malicious.
But was it malicious to do something to keep Tara from harm? Was it cruel to keep her safe? How could it be thoughtless and wrong when she was thinking about it so hard and she'd be doing it for all the right reasons.
"No, I'm not even thinking this," Willow said, shaking her head vigorously. "I don't want to even be thinking this."
"Willow, open this door," Giles demanded. "Open this door now."
"No, Giles … I just … I need to be alone. Please, leave me alone," Willow said, her voice hitching. Outside the door, Anya and Spike pulled Giles back, and Giles reluctantly followed.
Willow heard the footsteps fading down the hall and the stairs, and she took a deep breath, letting it out as slowly as she could. "Okay, Rosenberg," she said softly. "Think about this logically. Think about this clearly," she instructed herself. "You've had a bad thought - a very bad bad thought … but you're not going to do it, right?" she asked herself. "It would be wrong, and you're recovering from a magick addiction, so no spells for you," she told herself sternly.
After a few more deep breaths, she got unsteadily to her feet, moving to sit on the bed, feeling the familiar bounce as her legs hit the mattress. "Okay … now … what did Tara teach you?" she said, a small smile crossing her face as she thought of Tara. "Meditation," she said. "Clear your mind."
With resolve face in place, she opened the drawer of the nightstand, her fingers grabbing the chain that held the doll's eyes crystal and pulling it out. It spun on the chain before her eyes, and she reached up to steady it with one hand.
Her breath left her body in a great whoosh of air as soon as her fingers touched the crystal directly. "Oh!" she gasped out as her mind seemed to sort itself, everything skewed in her world realigning the way it was meant to be.
And suddenly, as this rush of clarity rolled over her, all the good solid and logical reasons for casting that spell seemed empty and hollow, full of holes. No, there would be no spells - there would be no magick. She didn't need them - she had Tara.
"Oh … oh!" Willow said, her eyes widening as she regarded the crystal in her hand. "I don't believe … " she began, only to trail off in wonder. "We've had it the whole time?" she asked aloud, her voice incedulous. Had her fight with Tara been …? No, she it hadn't … if she were honest with herself, she knew that her fight with Tara had been all her own doing. But the rest of it? The nightmares? The flashbacks? It was possible. It was entirely possible. "Giles!" she yelled. "Giles!"
Quickly, she pulled the chain over her neck, settling the stone against her chest and rushing out of the bedroom and down the stairs. "Giles!" she said again, hurrying into the living room.
"What? What is it?" Giles said, already standing and looking as though he was about to bolt up the stairs. "Willow, what is it?" he asked again.
"This!" Willow said, showing him the crystal.
"Yes, we've seen that," Anya said. "In fact, I've seen it quite a lot."
"No … it's … it's the stone! It's the stone that was made to keep The Trickster from clouding your mind - and the son of a bitch is still messing with me," she said heatedly.
"Way to go, Willow!" Anya praised, a wide grin crossing her face. "Not only did you figure out something important, you've managed to expand your vocabulary to include words twelve-year-olds use."
"What do you mean he's, umm … 'messing' with you?" Giles asked slowly.
"I was just flipping through that book," Willow said, pointing at the book in question. "I wasn't paying attention to it at all, but I just kind of stopped at a page - totally at random, like, kind of … 'I think I'll stop here now' kind of a thing, only it wasn't just some random page, it was a spell - and it was a bad spell, a very very bad spell, and not the sort of thing I'd be remotely interested in anymore, because - Hello! On the wagon now! But I read the spell, and I memorized it, and I was thinking that we had all the things I'd need for it right here in the house, and then I realized what the spell was and I freaked out. Like, majorly wigged."
"So you … you weren't upset because I mentioned the necronomicon?" Giles asked slowly, having thought that his ill-timed question about the book had triggered some kind of negative response in Willow.
"The … what about the necronomicon?" Willow asked, her brow furrowed.
"I … I asked you where it was," Giles said slowly. "And you said that Tara must have done something with it, because last time you'd seen it, it was in Spike's coat. Tara … ummm … Tara >did< do something with it, didn't she?" he asked carefully, his eyes pleading with Willow to tell him that Tara had, in fact, moved the book.
"Oh," Willow said, her eyes widening, looking from Spike's battered form, to the watcher, and back again. "I don't think she did."
"So whoever mugged Spike has the book?" Anya asked. "Oh, that's bad."
"And they're human, and Tara ran off by herself," Willow said, her eyes widening impossibly further.
"Oh, Bloody Hell," Spike said heatedly.
"Yes, quite," Giles said with a sigh.
______________________________________
I Think The Hellmouth Tastes Like Chicken -- Autumn
at: 8/22/02 3:36:20 pm
yay update! but nasty cliffhanger 
Our girls need to stop fighting. I know it's good to fight and get your emotions out, but still. I do have to agree with Tara though, Will should stop blaming everything on herself. What happened to Tara wasn't her fault. I wish she could see that. The baby thing... Tara was right on that too. When Willow can tell her she actually wants and needs a baby, then they should look in to it. I understand where she is coming from though.
Gave me a chuckle! 
udders::
You know what I mean. 
He killed Tinkerbell. 
great update. and your Spike is just hilarious 
