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Chapter 6: Home is where you grew up. [/center]
Rating (by chapter): PG-13.
Disclaimer: Willow, Tara, and any other Mutant Enemy characters that might creep in are not mine. Nobody's getting paid for this, and that's really just fine.
Feedback: Yes, please!
Distribution: Anywhere is fine, just ask first, please.
Spoilers: None.
Notes: None.
Summary: More months have gone by, Spring is in the air, and the time for love has come 'round at last... if only our girls would figure it out! Maybe if they had a little help...
A person can become an expert at many things, Jody thought to herself,
and I've been around long enough to have gone down that road a few times... but when it comes to love, there's no expert. The heart does what it does, and all we can do is follow, or not. Sometimes we need somebody to point the way, though. Hope I'm doin' the right thing.
The sound of a
bluegrass tune she didn't recognise met her ears as she opened the door to the music room. Tara didn't look up, concentrating on the pickwork. She wasn't projecting anything, so Jody figured she must be practicing the practical aspects of playing rather than the psychic. She sat down on a stool at the side of the room and waited for her student to finish.
Eventually Tara's music came to an end and she looked up, a proud little smile on her face. "What do you think?"
"Your technique's improving. Hell, get a fiddle and banjo player in here, you'd have yourself a fine little band." She smiled at the feeling of pride and satisfaction her student was putting off.
Should I get into it now? Nah, better not jump right in, something else first... "Okay, you've shown me your stuff with the guitar. How are you doing with specific projections?"
The girl propped the guitar into its stand before turning to face her. Jody closed her eyes and waited, feigning impatience. Then she found she was
actually impatient... the impatience of waiting for something imminent but not being sure of exactly when it would happen. She laughed. "OK, smartass. Next."
A moment later she started shifting in her chair, trying to get comfortable. It took her a second, then she grinned. "Nice one. Next?"
She tried to stop shifting, but for some reason things weren't quite right. Actually, she was starting to feel a little dizzy.
Vertigo. Clever girl. She almost nodded, but thought better of it just in time. "Next."
The next one hit her hard, blackening her mood. Everything seemed distant, somehow, the colours around her dimmer. Everything draining down through the small hole in her heart.
Ugh. Grief. And... specifically the grief at the loss of... I don't know, a pet? Something alien but precious and beloved. I hadn't even realized there were specific types of grief. Should've, I guess. Looks like the student's become the teacher. Sweet. "One more."
You know what I miss? she thought to herself.
That last batch of chocolate chip cookies. Especially when they were warmed up and the chocolate chips were all melty... mmm. She allowed herself to enjoy that for a few moments before saying, "Enough." She opened her eyes.
"What did you get for the chocolate craving?" the girl asked. "I was thinking of that chocolate that we dipped the strawberries in during the summer." She smiled a winsome little smile.
"As if you couldn't guess. Those cookies... mmmm." They both laughed at that.
"It's neat how you can create these cravings and everyone responds to them a little differently, wanting different specific foods."
Jody nodded her agreement. "Except for shrimp. Projecting a shrimp craving only ever gets a shrimp craving for some reason."
"What
is it about shrimp? It's a crazy world."
"You got that right. OK, TK time."
After a momentary grimace, the blonde took a deep breath and let it out. Then she nodded, signaling readiness.
Jody reached out with her mind and abruptly
pushed against Tara. She was gratified to find that nothing happened. The first time they'd played this practice-game, Tara had forgotten to brace herself against the wall behind her, and had fallen backwards onto the floor. She'd complained about her tailbone hurting for over a week. The second time, she'd remembered to brace backward, but not
outward, and had wound up on the floor again, gasping for the air that had been pressed out of her lungs. No injuries that time, thankfully, but since then she'd always been nervous about the initial shove, and Jody had been able to catch her off guard several times because of it.
This time, though, there was none of that. The girl was firmly resistant. As Jody continued the pressure, she found herself having to overcome more and more force, until finally she was pushed back out of Tara's personal space.
That takes care of the brute force. Now the second half of the game begins.
Telekinetic combat, she reflected, was a difficult thing. A push, pull, grasp, or strike could come from any direction at any time--multiple directions, even--and given that the forces at work were inherently invisible, these attacks were nearly impossible to block. The trick was to stake out a territory, an area of space around you, and fill it with a very slight field of pressure. That way, an attack coming in would be instantly felt, and could be countered.
That was what they were doing now; the room was invisibly divided between the two of them, half filled with Tara's presence, half with Jody's own. Little gusts of wind began to occur around the room, occasionally fluttering a music sheet or an open book. Jody felt her hair begin to stand up a little as the dry air around them, constantly pushed by the multitude of probes, strikes, and counters going on in the room, became charged like a balloon rubbed on a cat.
The great difficulty in this sort of thing came primarily from mental exhaustion. Effective TK took a fair amount of concentration in the first place. To accomplish this sort of effect took concentrated focus on multiple things at once. And concentrating on focusing power for an effective strike, concentrating on feeling out a person's defenses, concentrating on holding a space and sensing everything in it, and concentrating on responding quickly and effectively every time were all very different things.
Jody had always been absolutely shitty at it. Fortunately, Tara had nearly as much trouble as she did; else she would have had to find a better practice partner for the girl somehow.
In under a minute, they were both tired out and had to stop. By unspoken agreement, they always rested a few minutes afterward. Tara excused herself and went to the bathroom for a minute this time, and Jody was grateful for the extra rest. Not that she'd ever have admitted as much.
Well, no time like the present, I guess..., she thought as Tara came back into the room and sat. "So... how's the song com-"
"I know," Tara interrupted.
Jody was caught flat-footed. "Huh?"
"What you're trying to get me to figure out. My feelings f-for Willow. I already know."
Well shit, that
was easy... "What makes you think I'm trying to get you to figure something out?"'
The look Tara gave her was full of fond sympathy... slightly patronising sympathy. "Suggesting I write a song exploring my 'deeper feelings'... making little sounds of interest whenever I mention something good about her... that ridiculous 'Find the Love of your Life' book that keeps
happening to fall off the library shelf... Honestly? Subtlety is
not your strong suit."
Jody exhaled slowly, leaning back and stretching. "Alright, smartass, guilty as charged. So... if you've figured out your feelings, next question: what are you waitin' for?"
The discomfort and nervousness this question brought on was so intense that Jody could practically see it in the air. Tara couldn't seem to meet her eyes, and Jody had to strain to hear the quiet response: [sub] "How will I know if she likes me or not..."[/sub]
Jody couldn't respond for a moment. Her mouth worked but no sound came out. Eventually, however, her incredulity overcame her shock. "
What?! Are you an empath or aren't you?!"
Tara looked miserable. "That's j-just the p-point! H-how would I ever know if her f-feelings were real, when I could be a-a-accidentally influencing her? H-how could I s-subject her to that? I can't be with... with anybody! W-with great power comes great r-responsibility..."
I knew picking up that old comics collection for the library was a bad idea, I just knew it. She was about to say something to the shaking girl, but stopped, frowning in puzzlement. A moment later, the frown deepened. "Bullshit."
Tara looked up at her, shock plainly written on her face. "Wh-"
"You're not telling me everything. C'mon, like I wouldn't know when you hold... out..." she trailed off as Tara put her head in her hands and began to cry.
That's... shame... self-loathing? Why would she... oh. Oh!
She rushed to the shaking girl's side and wrapped her arms around her, projecting a caring calm. After a minute or two of sobbing, Jody figured the girl was calm enough to hear her.
"You're not afraid you'll accidentally manipulate her into loving you, are you?" she asked, keeping the blanket of calm as heavy and soothing as she could. "You're afraid you'll do it on purpose."
Even as close as she was, she barely heard the response. [sub]"I... I w-w-want to... I... she means so m-much to me... it would be so... easy..."[/sub] The blonde lifted her head and Jody found determined, tear-filled blue eyes meeting her own. "That's why I c-cant check. Not ever. If I knew, I m-might... might try to make things the way I w-want them..."
Well, goddamn. Double goddamn. You win, girl. Jody couldn't help but grin. "Congratulations, Tara. You graduate."
Tara's expression was wavering between sadness, confusion, and shock, and finding nowhere to settle. "Wh...what do you mean...?"
Jody reached behind her and dragged another stool over, its legs making a loud scraping protest in the quiet room. Perching on it, she met the girl's conflicting emotions with a proud smile.
"It's Galadriel's Choice," she said. "Recognising the power in yourself, the potential. Seeing what you could become. Recognising it as a part of you. Feeling the terrible desire to just reach out and grab that power, use it to make the world around you, the people around you, a little safer. Or a little better. Or just more like you feel you need 'em to be. And then making the choice. To do, or not to do. You've made that choice. You choose to be yourself, to follow that little quiet voice in your heart that tells you who you are. Even if it means hurting. Even if it means losing the chance at what you want the most."
Tara was catching up, her expression becoming more one of comprehension. "I guess that's a choice all psychics have to make."
"It's a choice everybody's got to make, Tara. We're all vastly more powerful then we give ourselves credit for. We affect the world and the people around us profoundly just with our words and actions and choices. Mostly we pretend we don't. Mostly we avoid the responsibility. But it's there. The power's there. And we all make Galadriel's Choice eventually. If I had to pick one defining moment when we change from kids to adults, that's what I'd choose. That's when you learn who you are. What kind of person. Today I learned who you are, Tara. Today I saw you grow up. And I can promise you this: you can trust yourself. You can trust yourself with Willow."
The girl's lips were slowly making their way into a hesitant smile. "H-how do you know that I'll always make the right choice?"
"Oh, you won't. Sometimes you'll make mistakes. Sometimes you'll be misinformed. And sometimes you'll even consciously choose what you know is wrong. But you've shown your heart, and your basic goodness is pretty clear. You'll do just fine. Willow's a lucky girl."
"You think that I'd consciously choose the wrong thing?" Tara sounded a little offended.
Jody straightened in her stool.
Important talk time. "You're a good person. One problem that good people sometimes have to deal with is holding themselves up to an ideal. You want to
always be good, always do the right thing, always be there for people, that sort of shit. It was a big problem back when I was your age, because the world
expected everyone to be perfect. Everything was based on it. We had a million theories about how to make everything work, and the one thing they all had in common was that they'd work out just fine if people would just be perfect. Democracy. Capitalism. Communism. Socialism. A million isms, none of which ever worked well 'cause all of them depended on the idea that you could educate, enlighten, intimidate, or force people to finally be perfect. It didn't work, of course. People aren't perfect, they aren't gonna be perfect, they're not
supposed to be perfect. They're just people. Perfect isn't real; perfect is bullshit. People are real. And someday, out of fear or hurt or just not thinking it through, you're going to fuck up big time. So here's my final lesson for you: When it happens, forgive yourself, ask for forgiveness if you hurt anybody, try to make things better, and just get on with following your heart. You'll do just fine that way."
Her earlier tears now quieted, Tara's face betrayed an intense curiosity. "Back when you were my age...?"
Jody chuckled.
Guess I must've done OK... seems like she's at least a little reassured. "Haven't managed to turn up enough information in your investigations? You two have been at it for months!"
Tara looked a little crestfallen. "Not really... you noticed, huh?"
"Your investigative partner is a little less than subtle when she's trying to ferret out information. Maybe it's a redhead thing."
The girl had started giggling as soon as Jody mentioned the word 'ferret' for some reason. After a minute or so she calmed herself down. "What
is your story, anyway?"
"You really ought to have just asked Gareth, you know. He's not nearly as secretive as the adults... probably would have told you right away."
"Your story?" Tara would not be put off.
Oh, why the fuck not... "You know my story pretty well." She turned around on her stool and reached around behind her to lift her top up, briefly showing the skin of her back and the spiral birthmark thereon.
Showing's easier than telling.
She let the fabric down again after a few moments, and turned to find the girl staring in surprise.
Tara slowly spoke, "You're... one of the Three?"
"Nah. I
was one of the Three. Now I'm just a batty old librarian with a weird birthmark and the good fortune of having a brilliant student. Lot of people here like that, with big pasts." A shrug. "We're all just people, like everybody else."
Tara seemed to be mulling that over for a minute. Then, "Alright... I can adjust to the idea of living with historical figures. And I think I understand why you wouldn't want people to know. But why here, in one place? Why aren't you scattered wherever you fit, just like everyone else?"
"When this Age began, there were some people that just weren't able to fit anywhere. Not because there was anything special about us; just because were were too strongly stuck in some old paradigm or other. That's the thing about people that make history; they're usually exactly the kind of passionate, stubborn cusses that can't adapt so easily to something entirely new and different. Full of deep-seated beliefs and convictions. Lucky for us, we were able to find each other, help each other to build something new together." She smiled involuntarily. "Kate was the one that found the place. She said it was perfect, and she was right as usual. This is where we built something new. This is where we helped each other find home. And when we were done, when we had all found what we were seeking, people from all over the world started to arrive. Not all the time, just every once in awhile. Misfits, out of place where they found themselves, just like we had all been. And so we helped them. That's what we've been doing ever since, just living life and helping out anyone that gets sent our way. Some of them stay, some find their home elsewhere. And that's where you come in. You and your Willow. " A grin. "Speaking of, how about you go and think about how you're gonna tell her? Let your old teacher get some practice in for a change."
She busied herself with getting a guitar down from the wall, all the while listening as Tara left the room. Just before the girl closed the door, Jody heard her mumbling to herself.
"'My Willow'", she quietly said to herself, and with the words Jody heard something else; a new-found hope.
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Willow was looking through her own forearm.
I can't believe this. I'm totally made of ice! Living, breathing ice! Okay, not actually breathing, but definitely moving and thinking and seeing and hearing and talking ice! That's me! This is so amazing... and... well, I can't see any practical applications right this moment, but I bet there are some, and even if there aren't, this is just one variation on the spell... there are so many kinds of transmutation that I can do!
Her thoughts were interrupted by gentle, accented voice of the woman sitting with her, just outside the magic circle. "You've done it well, Willow. I'm impressed at how well you've woven all of the aspects together... the transmutation from living flesh to base matter, the animation and control of the matter, the retention of your mind despite the physical change, and even the manipulation of the heat in the air to keep yourself frozen. If I'm seeing these patterns right, you could easily stay this way for, oh, an hour or more before changing back."
Willow felt like doing a little dance.
Only I'm kinda clumsy sometimes, and I'm really not sure how shatterproof this ice is... could get ugly. "Thanks! I'm... this is really amazing! Only... what happens if a bit of me breaks off while I'm like this?"
Kate seemed to be thinking about that for a minute. Finally, she simply replied, "I wouldn't advise it."
Oh. "Umm... so, do we need any more information out of me being like this, or are we done? I sort of feel done....?"
Kate nodded, and Willow watched her carefully, trying to determine whether the woman was holding back a smile at her sudden change of heart. Finally deciding that her teacher's calm and patient demeanor was genuine, she carefully unbound the ties of primal energy that held the spell in place. The first thing she noticed was the sensation of warmth slowly suffusing her body. She hadn't really noticed her own body temperature before, but spending a little time as unfeeling ice did seem to lend some perspective on that. She found she'd missed it and not even noticed.
They spent a few minutes taking down the magic circle, Willow subconsciously checking all the while to make sure she hadn't accidentally chipped off any bits of herself during her transformation. Finally they were done, and went to sit on the beanbags at the far side of the room.
The room in question was technically part of Willow's living space; when she'd first arrived in Newhaven Plateau it had been cold and rainy, and she'd been tired, hungry, soaking wet, and in the first stages of a nasty flu. By coincidence perhaps, the library had been the first building she'd come across, and Kate had come upon her shivering in the front hall. Wasting no time, the woman that Willow would later come to know as a teacher and friend had immediately taken her upstairs to the second floor of the library building, which still had its original fixtures and furniture from its previous incarnation as a family home. Willow had been dried, bundled and cared for there, and when it came time to decide where she would live, it had been the natural choice that she stay there. She'd made a fair amount of changes to the place since then, this 'workroom' being one of them, and she was very happy with how it was turning out.
"Would you like something to drink?" she offered Kate as she sat. "Water, tea, anything?" It was an old ritual by now; Willow offered refreshment, Kate refused, and then, formalities taken care of, they went on with their day.
"No thank you, dear. Let's just move on. I realised the other day that I've been very remiss in not teaching you about love spells."
Willow was a bit startled.
Love spells? Now there's
a departure from the current curriculum... she's been all about transformations and the weaving together of different spheres of magic for the past month, and now suddenly it's love spells? Well, I'd better pay close attention, though. I mean, in the past whenever she's seemed to go off on a tangent it's always come back around and been relevant somehow, so... "Okay, then. Love spells. Although I don't really think that's my kind of thing..."
"Willow, you're a witch, and you make no secret of it. You have to face the fact that people are going to come to you for help with things that feel beyond their control. And one of the most common requests you will ever get will be when some lovestruck man or woman is in need of your help to be noticed by the object of their attentions." She shifted around, apparently trying to find a more comfortable position on the beanbag. "This raises plenty of ethical issues, and that's what I want to talk about today. Now, the first thing to be done is to determine if the person's motivations are really pure, or in other words, whether they're truly in love or not. Now, I'd like to do a thought experiment with you. You're going to play the part of someone--let's go with someone we know, to make it easier--someone with a crush on someone else."
Willow grinned. "Like Gareth and his crush on Tara?"
"Excellent idea. There's a very clear fascination there. Although of course Gareth is rather too young for this sort of thing, we'll ignore that for the purposes of our thought experiment. So, you be Gareth--or some vague notion of an older Gareth, if you prefer, whatever you like--and I'll be the witch you've come to. Close your eyes now, and let's begin."
Willow closed her eyes. The scent of sandalwood from the incense they'd been burning enveloped her like a cocoon, providing a feeling of warmth and safety.
Okay... here we go... how do I think like Gareth, anyway? He's eight! Oh, but I'm not being eight-year-old Gareth, I'm being... umm...
Willow's dazed thought process was interrupted by Kate's voice. "So, you come to me, and you say...?"
"I'm in love with Tara," Willow promptly responded.
Hey, not so hard after all. I'm a natural! "Can you help me?"
"Very good. So naturally at this point I'll want to discover the purity of your intentions. I'll begin by asking you questions like, 'How do you feel when Tara enters your view?'"
"Good," Willow answered promptly, without having to think about it. "I mean, I have to smile, and it's like the smile doesn't end at my lips. Like all of me is smiling."
"And when you part from her?"
"Oh, it's fine. I mean, it's not like she's going far away or anything; I see her every day. So it's fine, really. I mean, there's a little twinge, yeah, like when there's something you want to say to someone but you never quite seem to get around to it... it feels kind of like that, like there's something lingering in the air between us, and it's sort of quiet, you know? But it's there, and it's supposed to be spoken, and so it's always a little disappointing when she's gone and it's still hanging there."
Yeah. It's exactly like that. I'm really good at this!
"When you're apart, do you often think of her?"
There's an understatement! "Only every day! I mean, I'm constantly thinking, 'Tara would like this', or, 'I've got to tell Tara about that when I see her! Or, I wonder what Tara's doing right... umm, now.
Hey, wait... I'm supposed to be playing a part right now, aren't I...?
But Kate's insistent voice was there again, distracting her with further interrogation. "Alright, some different questions... what does her frown look like?"
Willow couldn't help but smile a little.
It's so adorable. The way her mouth sort of goes to one side, and she gets these little wrinkles between her eyebrows... sometimes it's hard to take her seriously, because it's so... wait...
"And her smile, Willow? What do you think of her smile?"
Sometimes it's all my day is about, making her smile. She's so shy sometimes, it's hard to get her to stop hiding that smile from me. Like that one day when we were picking fruit with the others, and we made it a game to... hold on. She said 'Willow'. That's not right... Wait, is she trying to say that...
"One last thing, Willow," Kate said, her quiet voice ringing inescapable in Willow's ears. "Do you ever dream of her?"
Willow's eyes shot open in shock. She'd never told anyone about that!
No one knows about that! How could she know... it was just silly dreams... how could she know? Does everyone know? No, no no no, don't be silly, Willow, she can't know, so what does that mean? She just guessed it? How? She examined the older woman, resting comfortably on the beanbag across from her, regarding her steadily with eyes far calmer than Willow felt the situation warranted.
No, wait, wait, she's making a point here. I recognise her making-a-point face. What point is she making? What were we talking about? Why am I feeling so panicked that I don't even remember what we were talking
about? Okay, calm down, Willow, calm down calm down. Everything's fine. Everything's Finey McFine. I'm just... I'm... oh. Oh!
"I'm in love with her. Oh, goddess, I'm in love with Tara!"
It seemed as though Kate was about to say something, but before she could speak Willow's nervousness and embarrassment all went to her stomach at once. "Gotta go!" she managed to squeak out from behind her hand as she ran for the bathroom.
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"Well," said Kate, staring at the open door that Willow had charged out through just moments before, "That could have gone better, all told." She frowned, then shrugged resignedly. "Still, mission accomplished I suppose...." She drifted off and was quiet for a minute. "I wonder if I ought to go and help her..."
She sat for a few moments more, listening to the unpleasant noises drifting in from the bathroom down the hall. "No... I don't suppose I ought." She pushed herself up out of the beanbag and started walking toward the door of the kitchenette. "Perhaps I'll make her some peppermint tea. Just the thing for a nervous tum..."
TBC