I'll be catching up on replies in the morning, but right now I kinda' need to catch up on some sleep *G*
Title: Lingering Darkness Part 8a – The Best Part
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to
pink_overalls@yahoo.com Summary: Tara does some Deep Thinking
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 - Please Note, sections are individually rated.
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 8a
The Best Part
By Sassette
Willow paced around the living room, chewing on her thumbnail as she waited as patiently as she could manage. Spike, Giles and Anya watched her back and forth, back and forth, their heads turning in unison as she passed going one way, then passed again going the other.
“What’s taking them so long?” she asked for about the millionth time, pausing in her agitated pacing and glaring at the curtained front window as if it, somehow, were at fault for Tara and Buffy’s absence. “Buffy left, like, an hour ago!”
“Maybe she and Tara are lying in a ditch,” Anya supplied helpfully, a worried look on her face. Willow paled at her words, turning to her with wide eyes. “Or, oh – oh! It’s just about sundown – maybe a vampire got them!” she said, giving Spike a dirty look.
“Don’t blame me,” Spike said petulantly. “I’ve been here the whole time. Besides, I’m sure they’re fine.”
“Oh, right … you’re sure. You’re probably covering for your fiendish friends - you’re exactly the kind of creature of the night who preys on young blonde women,” Anya said.
“Guys?” Willow said weakly. “Not helping.”
“Well, you asked where they were … I was just pointing out that they could be …“ Anya paused as she heard the front door opening, immediately jumping to her feet. “… coming in the front door right now.”
Willow beat Anya to the front door easily, but stopped up short, Anya crashing into her back, her eyes going comically wide as she took in the sight before her.
“Could you, maybe, get an icepack? And, umm … some bactine? And bandages?” Tara said hesitantly.
“Honey, are you okay?” Willow asked, rushing up to Tara and running her hands over her body, checking for any injuries.
“I told you something bad happened,” Anya said, shaking her head wearily. Why did no one ever believe her? She had been around for a thousand years, and no one ever took her word for anything.
“Oh, sure … she doesn’t have a scratch on her, and I’m all battered, and you check her first? I see how it is,” Buffy said. Her arm was draped over Tara’s shoulders, Tara’s arm around her waist lending her support as she had limped home. “Stupid minions,” she said with a scowl, peering at Willow through one black eye.
“Oh, Buffy, you’ll be fine. Slayer healing, remember?” Willow said, sparing Buffy a quick glance, then turning back to Tara.
“I’m fine, sweetie,” Tara said, laughing lightly at Willow’s preoccupation. Buffy joined in, unable to stop herself from thinking that a frantic Willow was far too cute. “And Buffy will be fine, too. We just had a little tussle.”
“A tussle? How big a tussle? Like a tussle ‘two grown men beating each other up then having a beer together’ tussle, or a ‘two little boys arguing over the red crayon’ tussle?” Willow asked, getting to the other side of Buffy and helping her into the living room.
“I’ve got the first aid kit,” Giles said helpfully, popping back into the living room. Willow hadn’t even noticed he’d left, but he had gone for the kit as soon as Tara had mentioned they needed it.
“Thanks, Giles,” Buffy said with a grateful smile. “But it’s nothing much.”
“Well, I think … I think we should, y’know, put bactine on it,” Tara said. “You wouldn’t want that getting infected.”
“What infected?” Willow asked, frowning and turning her attention to Buffy. “You didn’t say ‘infected’ … why didn’t you tell me there was a chance of infection? What the frilly heck happened?”
“Nothing,” Buffy said quickly. “And, umm … I think I’ll just take this kit and go to my room,” she added.
“Buffy,” Tara said, a no-nonsense look on her face. “Sit down on that couch and pull up your pant leg.”
Buffy immediately sat, tugging up her pant leg and exposing a seeping bloody wound on her ankle. With a shake of her head at Buffy’s stubbornness, Tara took the kit from Giles, carefully cleaning the wound with the disinfectant. Sure, the fight had been a little embarrassing, but they were all friends here. No, they were family, Tara thought with a little smile.
“What’s so funny?” Buffy asked quickly, narrowing her eyes at Tara. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No – I was just thinking we’re family, so there’s no reason to get huffy, Buffy,” Tara said with a half-smile.
“Huffy Buffy,” Willow repeated, a pleased look on her face. “How come I never came up with that one?”
“So is anyone going to tell us what happened?” Giles finally asked, once Tara had cleaned and wrapped Buffy’s ankle.
“Well, we were –“ Tara began, only to be cut off by the slayer.
“Y’know – we were jumped by lots of big demons,” Buffy said quickly. “There were at least twelve, and they were huge,” she said, holding her hands apart to indicate something very very big.
“Are you sure it wasn’t Girl Scouts?” Spike asked, a smug look on his face. He had remained silent when Buffy came in, knowing he’d get the story eventually and seeing right off that Buffy hadn’t been hurt badly enough to be in any danger. “Not so funny when it’s you, is it?”
“Fine,” Buffy said with a sigh. “It was those little hobbits-with-leprosy Glory Minions. But there were six of them!” she tacked on.
“Yes, you were very brave,” Tara said with a light laugh.
“Glory’s minions?” Willow asked. “What did they want?”
“Oh, fine – you try getting jumped on by six little things with the sharp teeth and the grabby hands,” Buffy said with a scowl, thinking that Tara should probably answer Willow’s questions.
“Wait – those things are tiny,” Willow said, a confused look on her face. “How’d they get your eye?” she asked curiously.
“Nevermind that,” Buffy said, shaking her head and glancing sidelong at Tara, who seemed as though she had no intention of answering Willow’s original question. “We need to talk about what they were here for.”
“Actually, it’s a funny story,” Tara said, stopping Buffy from continuing. “One of them bit Buffy on the ankle,” she explained, seeing all the assembled Scoobies wince at the idea. “And when started hopping on one leg and reached down to grab it, she bent over and knocked her eye against one’s skull.”
“Oooohhh … that must have hurt,” Willow said with a little wince.
“And it wasn’t my most graceful moment, either,” Buffy said with a little sigh.
“So what >did< they want?” Anya asked after a long moment. “I mean, Willow asked, but no one answered her, so – what did they want?”
“Buffy, could you …” Tara began, waving her hand vaguely towards the kitchen.
“Yeah, y’know what? I think Anya and Giles and Spike should help me make dinner. Without going anywhere near the door,” Buffy said, getting gingerly to her feet. “And we’ll call you when it’s ready, and until then, you two just … do whatever,” she said, shuffling towards the kitchen, Giles and Spike helping her and a confused Anya following.
“But weren’t you going to tell us -?” Willow heard Anya say as she went into the kitchen.
Tara looked at Willow, a thoughtful expression on her face, but she remained silent, trying to order her thoughts. Willow stayed where she was, kneeling by the couch where she had been when everyone had fussed over Buffy.
“I … I, umm,” Willow said, fidgeting as the silence started to get to her. “Is this the part where you tell me what a big poop-head I’m being? Because I am, and I realize that now, and I’m sorry I’m such a poop-head.”
“No, no,” Tara said softly. “You’re not a poop-head, sweetie. You just … that made me really really mad, and hurt – that you’d just … make decisions for us like that.”
“I know,” Willow said quickly. “But I was scared, and I wasn’t thinking, and I’m so very sorry.”
“And you were avoid-y,” Tara couldn’t help but point out.
“Hence the poop-head,” Willow immediately agreed. “But, baby … you were kind of avoid-y too, y’know? And …this whole big thing is like … it’s like this great big thing, and I don’t know what to do with it. And I should be doing … something. Anything. But I did the wrong thing, and I’m sorry it was wrong, but I had to do >something<.”
“I know,” Tara said, a fond smile crossing her face. “It’s the Scooby fix-it reflex,” she said with a sigh. “It’s the same thing that makes you run towards trouble, but … sweetie, we … we have to be careful. Remember what we decided? We take care of each other? That has to go to decisions, too … we have to decide together. And so I’m sorry I made you leave school today when you didn’t want to – I should have listened to you.”
“I was being stubborn,” Willow admitted, a guilty look on her face.
“I know you were, but that’s your right,” Tara insisted gently. “It’s like … we should make decisions together, but … you should have final say in ‘you’ stuff, and I should have final say in ‘me’ stuff, and whether or not you go home from school is ‘you’ stuff.”
“I’m just sorry,” Willow said, shifting over and resting her cheek on Tara’s knee, her hand curled around her calf. “I hate fighting with you,” she went on, her lower lip trembling a little and tears welling up in her eyes. She calmed a little as she felt Tara’s hand stroking her hair, and she found her voice to continue. “Something bad happens every time we fight, and I just … I get so scared. I’m so scared that you’ll get hurt, or that I’ll lose you, and … I just react without thinking about it.”
“I’m scared too,” Tara said softly. “I’m scared that there’s something going on with you, and I don’t even know what it is, and that it’s … it’s bad, isn’t it? The nightmares? Whatever happened at school today?”
“I … I keep remembering,” Willow said with a little shrug. “I just want to forget, but I keep remembering going through Hell,” she went on softly, her voice distant. “When I dream, I’m back there, and not the happy snuggly parts – all the ‘before that’ stuff. And when I’m awake, something will remind me, and I’ll just see that cave. Like, a flashback.”
“Oh, God, Baby,” Tara said, her face stricken. “I’m so … I had no idea.”
“I know you didn’t,” Willow said, lifting her head to look at Tara, a sad half-smile on her face. “How could you? I didn’t tell you.”
“You have to tell me these things, Willow,” Tara said intently, a look of fear in her eyes. “W-what, umm … what kind of flashbacks?”
“Not that kind,” Willow said, squeezing Tara’s leg gently. “It’s stuff I remember – The Trickster and Glory fighting. The shadows rushing at me. You disappearing.”
“So it’s not … ?” Tara asked, worry in her eyes.
“No, baby. It’s not like your Glory flashbacks. I don’t … I don’t see things like I did them when I didn’t,” Willow assured her.
“Come on,” Tara said, urging Willow to sit up, and then standing.
“Where are we going?” Willow asked, taking Tara’s extended hand and letting herself get pulled to her feet.
“I’m feeling kinda’ … drained,” Tara said with a shrug. “Tired, y’know? But we still need to talk,” she added quickly.
“Yeah, I know – much with the talking is necessary,” Willow agreed, nodding.
“But … how does pajamas, bed, and snuggle-time during talking sound?” Tara asked, a half-smile curving her lips.
“Like my own private piece of heaven,” Willow said with a relieved sigh.