Well here it is kittens. Long threatened. Teaser previewed during The Beginning Cycle – for those of you who can remember that far back (though some changes have been made since then)… dum dum dum… The Sidestep Chronicle. This has been a work in progress for months – the benefit of that for you the reader is that as I post this pretty quickly as most of it is complete. I anticipate a part posted every 2/3 days. For those who like to know these things.

I strongly encourage you to read the below and not just skip to the fic.

A lot of words on the content. This is a much darker vision of the Buffyverse than most. It is based in “The Wish” revealed reality and is set in the main from the time that would have been pretty much from S4 “Hush” onwards (though there are prelude fics prior to that.) That reality is based on the foundations that:

1) Buffy never came to Sunnydale at the start of Season 1
2) The Master rose unopposed.
3) When Buffy did arrive (in “The Wish” S3) the Master successfully snapped her neck like a dry twig. Guess she was lucky he was not up to speed in “Prophecy Girl.” This resulted in no new slayer being called (Kendra or Faith) until that point.
4) Willow died in S1. She came back as a vamp and then she was destroyed. Twice-ish - in “The Wish”/“Dopplegangland”
5) Sunnydale is pretty much ruled by vampires – by night at least.

All of the above can be pretty much called canon as far as I can see. I have then chosen to play inside this reality. This kind of presents a problem for the Willow/Tara fic – which I assure you this is firmly one of. Willow no longer exists (not that death ever stopped Joss so who am I to disagree) and Tara probably couldn’t see the benefit of a vampire-ruled Sunnydale education, so I had to use other methods to bring them together.

The solution to that is here. Some of it is perhaps a little forced. Some of it is a little “borrowed.” What it will definitely take is time (i.e. parts). Time to get Willow back after her death in “The Wish” though she does make appearances. Time to get Tara to Sunnydale (though only as long as it takes to explain the background.) Still more time to get them together in any way at all. And happy? Guess what… more time. I really am intending a lot of parts for this, it will not pay off in 6 or 8 parts, I and the reader will have to stick with it to get that payoff. Fair warning.

Meanwhile as I said everything is darker. It is no secret, in the first part below I am going to kill Willow (as a mortal.) I’ll do it again shortly after (as a vampire a la “The Wish.”) Poor gal! I anticipate that is not likely to be too popular on a W/T fic board(!) – though it is canon in an alternate reality sort of way. And I do bring her back too. Twice. Spoiler? No, really that is a no-brainer. Otherwise there would be no W/T fic here would there?

Some people may not like the version of Tara, a Tara shaped by different events and circumstances, which I present. She is not our Tara. But I hope that she is a Tara. A Tara which might have been in that nightmare world - a Tara that will still find her Willow...

That said this fic is not relentlessly dark. No one, least of all me, could survive reading it if it was – but the basic premise is going to have to start in darkness and tell of both Tara and Willow’s journey towards and away from that darkness. That is the key here – this is a big long journey for both Willow and Tara – and as I have written the end I can tell you it concludes in a good place. That is another no-brainer. Have some faith and this will pay off for anyone who sticks with it.

Finally a word about more general content. There are as yet and will be no “sex scenes” in this fic. However there will be a long running undercurrent of sex, sexuality and sensuality some of which is darker than the Willow/Tara sweetness we know and love - at least for a long time. This will be ‘Vamp Willow’ we are talking about here… As such I am slapping a blanket 15 rating on this entire fic. Some parts will need that, others won’t but please bear it in mind. As for violence, there is nothing that you would not find in a standard Buffy episode though there is action.

So why am I telling you all this and risking putting you off? Well I don’t want readers to go into this with false expectations of what they are going to receive. If in doubt give it a try sure, I may surprise you. But I am digging a huge dark hole for Willow and Tara here, and only together can they climb out of it. Slowly. I love feedback, I am addicted to it, and I have been missing it since the last cycle of fics ended, but please accept the reality as I describe it. If you don’t like the basic concept then just do not read it – your feedback cannot change that aspect of this fic. Everything else is fair game. I mention this only because when I ran the teaser I received a particularly nasty flame that seemed to be based on not liking this reality as much as anything else. Constructive criticism and feedback only please. I think I have warned you all enough. I can do no more to help you anticipate what you will find here.

And so to it.

Katharyn

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Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Backstep I (Part 1)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities across all seasons.
Summary: A look back at Willow’s fate in the immediate aftermath of the rise of The Master in S1 and how it came to be. Just setting the groundwork out for the Chronicle. Approximately 3 months after the time of the episode “The Harvest” in S1 which was the point at which the Master would have risen - as there was no slayer interference in this reality.
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15 across all parts.
Couples:Spike and Dru, X/W in as much as they ever were in S1 (don’t worry about that!) That’s it. What do you expect? It’s season 1 – Tara is three years from Sunnydale! But she is in here, in this part.
Thanks To: Those that urged the writing of this chronicle based only upon the teasers that I ran in The Beginnings Cycle. I hope this does not disappoint. Xita, who at a crucial low point in writing this told me what I needed to here – that a fic including Vamp Willow could be on topic (hey Zahir did it to Tara!) Louise – that one who is my always - once more and Kerry who has done so much for this fic. She wrote some little snippets, and half a part. She has also endured hours of chat about this thing of mine which resulted in much of what is good in it. I wanted to get this going before you had to vanish dearie, hope you like. Also to Jo who stepped into the beta reading harness at short notice and handled the first few parts in record time. My errors are my own, their genius is theirs.

The Sidestep Chronicle

Backstep – Part 1

By

Katharyn Rosser

The black car, with its spray painted windows, thundered past the sign that marked the city limits of the half-assed town known as Sunnydale on the maps, but the driver was guessing the residents now referred to it as ‘this godforsaken town.’ He could have done with loud music to drown the monotony of the journey but the woman he accompanied would not hear of it. Matter of fact she probably would not even be aware of it anyway. She was off in her own little world once more and nothing was going to draw her out of it just yet. At least not until she was ready to come out.

Spike changed gear and accelerated through a red light, narrowly missing a blue van coming across the intersection. Not for want of trying to hit it though. It amused him sometimes to run into humans’ vehicles and then watch their anger fade into blind terror as he emerged from his car suited up. But the word was out. Sunnydale was a vampire town – though a tightly regulated one. The human fodder who remained here… they were just walking snacks and best of all they knew it. He took a slug of Jack D and failed to offer it to Drusilla. She didn’t drink anything but blood. Why should she? She didn’t need any help at all escaping reality… and Spike loved her for it. That was why he had let her talk him into coming here. Now.

He had been planning to pay a visit when he’d heard that the new slayer was due to be based here. Portents and all that guff. He’d never had very much faith in portents, prophecies and fate and he had even less now than he had before. Sodding entrail readers buggered it up again. Still the one who had told them about the Slayer – well Dru had tried reading her entrails too. Maybe she had strained her tea and had no leaves left to read. No Slayer here in ‘this godforsaken town.’ Just one incredibly narked off big bad vampire king who had made it very clear that only his own brethren were welcome here in this town. So the rest had run like frightened sheep. And with bloody good reason. That Order of Aurelius had a bad rep. They’d been quiet most of the time since Dru had blessed him with eternity back in London but now they were back in a big way. The biggest way in millennia. It amazed him that no modern vampire had thought of taking over a town so completely before.

Bloody brilliant idea. Maybe it would get boring after a while being stuck in one town with no freedom to come and go as you pleased, but still there were definite possibilities in a place like this. A fixer-upper maybe but it had potential.

Every vampire who could think beyond his own stomach was into getting some power – it usually took about a decade of snacking to get over the novelty of your nature and the hunger that came with it. Those that stayed intact that long, well they broke down into two basic categories. There were those with a vision who wanted to end whole show and send the world to hell. Not a plan that he was at all keen on. Then there were those who realised - like Spike – that the world was pretty sodding fine as it was thank you very much. More food than you could ever eat, enough so you could kill just for the hell of it, and earthly distractions aplenty. Whatever you fancied. Whatever your bag was the human world could provide. Humans were twisted enough to satisfy any vampire… and if they didn’t then you could still eat them. The world was set up to suit vampires. The best of everything happened at night. The tastiest morsels, the best sport, the concerts and pubs. Everything was available, bigger and better, in the darkness.

He glanced at Dru who was whispering to something he couldn’t see outside the car window. Three kinds of vampire. There were those, like Dru, who scared the hell out of you… or you loved with a fire that no one could ever touch.

What no one before the Master seemed to have realised was that you could rule an entire town. Maybe even a city. You could just move in and take over. As long as things looked reasonable enough from the outside then no one – no human - gave a damn. National capitals usually had the worst murder rates in that country. If that was true and the humans did nothing about seeing to that problem then who’d care about some town in the sticks? Not even the sodding Watcher’s Council and their pet slayer it seemed. Even if there was a Hellmouth. But if you’d seen one Hellmouth then you’d seen them all.

Not that he actually had.

Course the only slight problem with their visit was the very fact that this town belonged to the Master now. And he had made it as clear as sodding crystal that he was only interested in supporting – read providing meals for – his own brethren. Dru assured him that he was one of those. Because she was. Through Darla they had direct lineage to the Master himself. Okay fine. If Darla had told him that way back when then he might have accepted it as a given, but Dru… Dru thought she had lineage to the Queen of Sheba, which didn’t make it necessarily so. Course it didn’t make it a pork-pie either.

Still, thought Spike as he pulled up outside the warehouse they had been directed to, it would be a hell of a fight if Dru were wrong. Maybe even a fight worth having for it’s own sake. Not that it appeared that he would have needed the directions. The place which appeared to be a warehouse converted into some sort of club, probably by humans before the Master had risen, thronged with vampires. Some of them walking with humans. Some of them dragging or carrying their dinner with them. Others just making their way to the club, no doubt thinking of getting a take-out. At least you didn’t have to bring your own – that would be a hell of a faux-pas to turn up without providing for yourself.

“Dru… we made it my sweet.”

“Great-Grandfather’s?”

“He’ll be inside. You ready?” Spike asked, just a little concerned. He wanted Drusilla lucid and at her best for this. Just in case. Alone he could raise hell. But with Dru at his side they could drag the whole place down there with them. Then he saw who was at the door and waiting. So okay maybe they could drag the place to Cleveland. That was almost as hellish by all accounts.

He got out of the car and pointedly ignored the hulking vampire who waited for him at the door. Moving around the back of the stolen car he opened the door for Drusilla and held out his hand to her. The hulk guarding the door said his name, the voice full of contempt for it – and it’s owner. “‘Spike.”

Dru took his hand “I’m an elegant lady…” she told him as she rose.

“Nobody is more elegant than you my love,” Spike kissed her hand and she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

Dru let him close the door behind her and then slipped her arm through his and they walked back round the car to the doorway.

“Spike.” The hulking great vampire said again refusing to be ignored this time. “You weren’t invited. Just your lady.” He nodded at Drusilla and she giggled like a nervous schoolgirl.

The only thing that stopped Spike dropping the big clod right then was his referral to Dru as a ‘Lady’ which always made her coo. That and his size. “Luke, great to see you.” Spike said with sarcastic enthusiasm. “What’s it been? Half a dozen generations?” Luke just rumbled in the back of his throat so Spike carried on. “Look mate, I don’t have to be invited. I’m one of the brethren. So… you get back to being the doorman and we’ll…” He let the argument hang. Threat or debate? Who cared? “Coming sweet?” Spike made to move past Luke and found a hand the size of a dinner plate placed on his chest holding him firmly back.

Okay fine, Spike thought. So we’ll fight. Maybe this time he won’t beat the crap out of me. After all I’ve taken two slayers since the last time. Course they didn’t hit quite as hard as old Luke does.

“You snubbed and ridiculed the opportunity to present yourself to the Master. You are not one of the brethren,” Luke told him firmly.

“Come along Spike. I want to go see Great-Grandfather,” she shivered as if cold although it was a warm night.

“Dru, Luke here doesn’t want to let me in. We need to have a discussion. Just let me deal with that first okay pet?” His lover grinned, perhaps in anticipation of the fight. He knew she loved to see him get beaten up… but usually just when she was doing the beating.

Luke contorted his face into what might have been intended to be a smirk. Which was hard to tell being as he was never out of costume. The teeth gave the lumbering burke a lisp too. Some blokes’ palates just weren’t built for being a vampire. But then Luke wasn't big on words, as Spike recalled, except of course for fawning before his all powerful Master.

Drusilla looked up as if seeing Luke for the first time. “Ohhh. Hello,” was all she said and as Luke turned to look her hand flashed and was at the giants’ throat holding him inches off the floor, at full stretch herself to do so. She tilted her head and then tilted Luke’s to match, examining him. “That’s not nice Uncle. There’ll be no tea for you tonight.”

Luke, for his part, was scrabbling to get his throat released. Vampires didn’t need to breath, but it was instinct – even after several centuries without needing to draw breath. When someone grabbed your throat you tried to get free, and all his efforts made not the slightest bit of difference to Drusilla who eventually tired of her examination and tossed him like a bag of rubbish against the sign that named the place.

‘The Bronze.’

Third place kinda suited this fleapit town, Spike thought as he smirked at Luke who was stumbling trying to get up from the floor, but slipping on some inconveniently spilled blood. No need to worry… his dark-princess was well and truly with him tonight.

So only the Master to worry about then.

Sodding great.

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“Huh! Chickens… pecking at my feet…” Willow jerked into consciousness and realised that the chickens wouldn’t have been such a bad thing after all. She’d been out on a farm… wandering around, looking through a window and seeing… someone.

A girl, beckoning to her through the window. But she couldn’t get there. There were bars and all.

It had been a much, much better place than the real world was turning out to be. Exhaustion must have taken her again because there was no way she could ever just fall asleep here.

“You’re just dreaming Will,” he stroked her dirty hair back from her face. It still looked nice though. A reminder of better times.

“So what do you think is going to happen to us?” Willow asked Xander, shaking off the dream. Anywhere But Here… anywhere was so appealing. They’d played it a dozen times… Xander had even moved on beyond the whole Amy Yip thing.

They had asked the same question a thousand times in the last five days. At least. Five days since they had been just a little too late getting home from school. Starting out optimistic, believing that maybe someone could come and rescue them. Everyone had heard of people who had been rescued from here. It was just that no one knew any of them. Or how it was done. Optimism was fine, but that had quickly fallen by the wayside. Then pessimism seemed to have failed too. They were still here. Just hanging around.

Darkness had fallen much faster that disastrous night. Heavy cloud had let the vampires come out much earlier. What were the odds in a town called Sunnydale? They had been picked up in a sweep with several others that had been caught out and here they were. They had been together since they were tiny and they were way past finding hard to believe that they were not going... end… together too.

Vampires. Xander cursed them. Though not out loud as they had managed to avoid being a meal so far - perhaps by keeping quiet. That had to be it. They hadn’t forgotten about them. They were regularly taunted but they could handle that. These guys didn’t have a thing on Cordelia and her devastating put-downs. Though Cordelia Chase hadn’t been telling them they were about to get eaten. So they hadn’t been forgotten but for some reason they, the vampires, kept picking on other, fresher, meals.

Fresher, maybe that was it. Maybe it was BO. He sniffed at his armpit. Pretty rank. Between fear, lack of bathing and the general smell in this place – which had been there even before the murder and mayhem he had to admit – it was hardly surprising. They were given a chance, a couple of times a day, to use the filthy facilities. Not a bath, a shower or a wash. At least they were getting fed though, seemingly on whatever the vampires own meals had on them when they were captured.

Vampires. Three months ago vampires had just been something in a horror film. Often badly dubbed and involving topless ladies with heaving bosoms – which, on a scale of one to imminent death rated about a zero. Three months ago the world had seemed a damn sight simpler than it was today. Then all he had to worry about was whether someone would help you through geometry… French… English… IT… History… Someone, of course, being Willow.

Now all they had to worry about was just when they were going to become the dish of the day. And then to hope that it was quick and clean. Five days in a cage hung over the centre of the Bronze had taught them a lot about vampire feeding habits and some of them weren’t too pretty. Some were quick, clean – which if he had a vote was how Xander wanted to go. Both hands in the air for that option. Some were long drawn out with communal nibbling. Some were kinda interesting in a perversely erotic sort of way – at least for the onlookers. And they had to look. It was impossible not to. At least it would have been “interesting” if it had been on film instead of a couple of metres below them where every bite was like a roll of thunder and every whimper was a scream of agony. If it had been on VHS there were bits he might even have rewound. A lot.

“We’re going to die Will.” It had been a long time since ‘We’ll be okay, you’ll see.’

They had started out thinking someone might rescue them. That the miracle would occur and that they would be released. That all the vampires would forget about them. That they would have a chance to escape somehow at the next bathroom run – which he still considered them fortunate to have received at all. Guess that really they don’t want us stinkier than we have to be.

Then they had just started to hope it would be quick.

They were off limits. Some bald dude with a freaky face – an even freakier face - had come over to the cage. Looked at them. Looked at Willow actually and declared them off limits. Which had seemed like a good thing right then, with the vampire queuing up to have them for dinner. Better than the death of a thousand bites that some suffered as the buffet or slung in a harness from the ceiling… legs and arms hanging at a convenient height. It gave finger food a whole new meaning. It hadn’t taken that long to figure out that freaky guy was some high muckety muck. Big and bad. Every vampire here was terrified of him. Xander was terrified of him too and it wasn't just the face. So that was ok. Of course right now he was just generally terrified rather than specifically terrified. But if he were to be specifically terrified of one thing then that guy would be it.

Something bad was going to happen. That had to be it.

Something worse than being eaten. Something way worse. Why else would they be kept here? They could have been eaten any time. His freakiness had eaten too, so they weren’t just being saved for him.

When the two new ones entered The Bronze, the blond haired guy in the long leather coat with the longhaired brunette in the scarlet dress, he had taken them for human. They had normal faces anyway. Help maybe… Everyone he didn’t recognise – and he had learnt a lot of their faces – was help – until they started to eat. But what were these two doing here? That they were together was as clear as day. They were affectionate, they were together. He had never seen a vampire show affection for anything but the next meal. But they were vampires. The way that the crowds parted before the woman as she strode imperiously onwards told him that. Vampires or worse.

Nope… right now he couldn’t think of anything worse than vampires.

And that really helped a lot didn’t it? Knowing that they were affectionate, that vampires could be? I can be a post-coital snack. Just wonderful, not only do I get eaten but I get to watch vamp lovers at play first. Okay so that was not the worst part of it at all. He shuddered at the resilience of his own hormones in the face of death. His own maybe this time.

And Willow’s. He didn’t want her left here alone – they might do things and he had to defend her. Thinking about it… he didn’t want to be left alone either. They might do things to him. Better together.

“Xander,” she chided him, “ you have to think happy thoughts. Were not going to die. We’re going to get out of this and one day we’ll laugh about it.”

“Will your perpetual optimism never ceases to amaze me. Even if actually it comes and goes. Here we are swaying gently in the breeze above a load of vampires in a feeding frenzy – and if we’re lucky then we’re just next on the menu – and you still manage to find the bright side.” He smiled at her. “That’s why I love you Will.” It could have been said very differently. A hint of sarcasm would have made it a devastating put down to his oldest friend, but that hint wasn't there. He actually meant it all.

“Be my deputy,” she said weakly, wondering if they were beyond even that raising a chuckle. He just shook his head with a sad smile. Then she realised just what he had said – and more importantly how he had said it. “Do you love me?” Willow asked really, really wanting to know but never having dared ask what he felt for her before – because she had thought that she had known. Perhaps it was just blind hope though. All she had seen in the past few days though… she wanted to open her eyes to him.

“Course I do. We’ve always been there for each other. Bestest buds as ever there was. Like the first day of junior high when Billy Franks pulled my trousers off you gave me your gym skirt.” Actually that wasn't the best example of support that he could come up with but at the time – before the three years of taunting and trying to pretend it was a kilt that had faded and shrunk in the wash – it had meant a hell of a lot back then.

“No Xander, I mean really love me?” she pressed as the blonde haired man passed into the backstage area where the head vampire resided without even looking up at them. His brunette paramour though… her eyes were fixed on the cage every step, craning her neck backwards like some dog pulled away from something it really wanted to sniff. A slight smile on her lips.

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“Great-grandfather,” Drusilla cooed excitedly on seeing him.

The big bad baldy bat faced one, as Spike liked to refer to him. God he hoped Dru didn’t let that slip. Bat head actually seemed to be pleased to see them though. Well Dru at least, as it was pretty unlikely that he had forgotten what Spike had said the last time they had met. And well… Spike was no more impressed than he had been that last time Dru had tried to present him to The Master. A little more respectful perhaps, a nasty beating would do that to a guy, but no more impressed. Big on respect these Brethren types. Pretty cool name too. Summed it all right up.

“Drusilla… and… William…”

“Spike…” the named vampire murmured in reply.

Perhaps it was the bat like ears that accounted for him actually hearing that. “You spoke William?”

“It’s Spike. Just Spike.”

“Oh yes, I must have forgotten. How kind of you to remind me.” The rancour dripping from his lips spoilt any pretence of actual thanks. Not many would dare to remind him… let alone correct him.

Well two could play at that game. “My pleasure.” Spike thought that a reference to The Master’s age and no doubt impending senility would go down badly and he still wasn't at all sure that Dru would actually back him up if trouble started. She had got all obsessive when she had received the message two days ago requesting – sodding demanding no less – their presence in Sunnydale of all places. And though he was no coward Spike had no illusions about being able to take on Luke and The Master at the same time – let alone the small army that remained in the club. Word had it The Master was trickier than old Drac – and a damn sight less patient.

Not exactly low profile anymore either. Still it had to wear on you being stuck underground for a few decades reliant on brutish fools like Luke just to eat. Maybe he should give the old guy a break. He thought about that for all of a second.

Nah.

The Master turned to Drusilla again and Spike just moved back into the shadows, against a wall – where at least his back was covered and he could watch out for Dru. Though Dru wouldn’t hear of it he was not yet convinced that this summons was intended as anything other than a death sentence for some real or imagined slight against this Order that their heritage supposedly made them a part of.

“‘I have a gift for you Drusilla. One that befits your own special qualities.”

That wasn't the first time Spike had heard that in the last two weeks… everyone seemed real interested in giving Dru gifts right now. It was going to make her next anniversary a real tricky one to buy for. Though he had got a line on two arms and a foot from the Judge which ought to keep her happy if he could track down the rest. At least for as long as it took to destroy the world.

That was the obvious downside… but anything for Dru, when she got her heart set on something who was he to refuse her? Anything for his deadly mistress of darkness.

“Oooh, can I see? Can I?” Dru was excited and as with all her emotions never afraid to show it, no matter the circumstances.

“Of course my dear.” The Master motioned at one of his attendants and the one scurried off to fetch the gift.

With a screech of metal on metal the ‘gift’ started to be moved through on the overhead runner that might once have been intended for a lighting rig.

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The kiss seemed to have taken a lifetime… and in terms of what they had left together it might be just that. “Right now doesn’t seem to be the time to say we are just friends again,” Xander finally replied after a minute or so of lip to lip contemplation- which was rudely interrupted by their entire cage moving. Towards the back stage area rather than the filthy toilets which were the other way. “So I won’t tell you that lie again. Yeah I love you Will. If I didn’t before then after what we have been though – together - then I surely do now.”

Despite the move towards the curtains that marked the borders of the Master’s lair and what seemed to be the imminent meeting of their fates, Willow still managed a little nervous smile. The sort of brave little trooper smile that Xander had learned to appreciate more and more in the past days.

It had been the only thing holding him together.

It still was.

He just wished that she had told him that she loved him too but she had asked the question. He had answered it with a kiss and she hadn’t said a word.

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The cage was met on the upper level by more of the Master’s attendants. Must be nice, Spike thought, to have someone to do everything for you. But a tiny bit impersonal for his tastes. So much better to throw the monkey boy down the steps yourself. It was a class thing. Despite his origins he liked to think that he had never been too proud to do things for himself. More fun that way too. He noticed though that far more care was taken of the red-headed girl. They looked a state. Probably stank too and not just of fear.

So, a tempting morsel Spike had to conclude, if a little dishevelled, but one look at Drusilla convinced him that she was more than that. Much, much more. The girl had something… something that pulled Dru to her. So close that she would be able to smell the fear, that she would be able to hear the pounding heartbeat. God he was hungry, lets get this show on the road mate. He didn’t say that though. Dru hovered around the girl, circling. Not suited up – so it wasn't hunger. Yet. But there was definitely something going on in his princess.

“Yes!” The Master cried. “You feel it Drusilla? Do you feel it?”

“Mmmmmm.” Dru stroked the girls cheek to bring the big frightened eyes around and then stared deep into them, her deadly hands grasping the chin to hold the head in place so tightly that the girl whimpered.

“Hey!” Xander called, reluctant to draw attention to himself but what else was he to do for the girl he had just admitted he loved. Just great Xander, you couldn’t realise that before you were about to die? Typical Harris luck. No actually typical Xander luck. There were lucky members of his family. Distant relations… and the more distance from this place the better.

“Be silent boy,” the big vampire told Xander throwing him down and pinning his face to the floor with a heavy boot.

“She reeks…” Drusilla told the Master, releasing the girl’s cheek where droplets of blood now gathered from the impressions of her razor sharp talons. “… Of hidden power.”

“Yes she does doesn’t she?”

“She’s one who’ll fly high up amongst all the twinkling stars until the rooster calls her home for tea and honey,” Dru continued lost in the moment and the big eyes of the red-haired girl.

“Yes…” The Master sounded a little more uncertain now and, after a century or more with Dru, Spike was no more certain what exactly his dark princess meant than the bat-faced freak was. But Dru sensed something that was certain.

“‘She’ll sing when the day comes and all the walls will come tumbling down. Just like humpty-dumpty.” She spoke to the girl directly, “I know your secret,” she whispered.

The Master stayed quiet this time, observing Dru, obviously fascinated by her. Spike could understand that at least.

“My secret?” Willow asked shakily, pretty sure that she didn’t actually have one.

“You’ll love to lick them… Just like a sweetie,” the vampire woman said to her looking right into her. “I can see it now. Can I have one of your eyes?” she asked.

“No.”

Drusilla pouted but didn’t take what she had asked for.

As much as he loved to see it, that fascination with the girl worried Spike. The Master was not renowned for his patience. Or for giving gifts beyond the requirements of hospitality. He moved in and grasped Dru’s shoulders feeling her relax into his embrace as she released the girl entirely. He looked at the girl and saw… a nice snack to be sure, posh even in her slightly mucky fuzzy pinkness, but nothing special at all. The rivers of blood called to him, the scent was captivating, the motion of the descending droplets of blood a dance that enthralled him.

He reached out and turned the girl’s head to examine her neck and found both The Master and Drusilla grasping his arm. Firmly. “Owww! Watch the coat.”

“She isn’t for you Spike. Bad dog. She’s for me.” Dru told him and Spike realised, looking at the Master and Luke, that she might just have saved him from imminent pain. “She is for me isn’t she? She's my gift Great Grandfather?”

“Yes, my dear. She is for you. I sensed her even from the other room and I thought instantly of you and your special abilities… and here you are to take her for me.”

“Oooooh!” Drusilla clapped her hands. “We will have to have cucumber sandwiches tonight for tea.”

“Hey, your masterfulness…” Spike felt Luke bristle behind him but was past caring. Dru was needed and that meant he was safe – ish too. “What about me?”

“You dare to ask?” Luke bellowed.

Spike didn’t even turn around. “It’s just good manners mate.” The Master had a rep as one of the old school. The very old school. Back when the identity of your sire carried some meaning and status. Back when you gave your guests something to keep the grumbling stomach at bay.

The Master it seemed must have been in a good mood. “Take the boy… but I want him back… after. The prophecy talks of two… lovers. He might be the other one.”

“Him?! Monkeyman – heck monkeyboy! You have got to be kidding,” Spike shouted.

“Hey! What’s wrong with me?” Xander grunted from beneath Luke’s foot.

“Hello, lovers?” That was the fuzzy pink girls concern. “We only just kissed the once.”

Spike saw the look on The Masters face and realised it was probably a very long time since he had been kidding – about anything. “Okay. Thanks. Very hospitable of you.” He turned back to Luke even as Dru took possession of the girl. “Your standing on my dinner… shift it.”

Luke growled but released his hold. His Master had given the boy over to the Spike and that was that.

“Dinner?” Xander asked, as he struggled to stand, and would have protested further but saw Willow being led into a dark corner by Drusilla. “Willow!” he even threatened to fight, but the one that wanted to be called Spike smacked him on the nose and he went down. Hard. Still he couldn’t even say “ow.” All he could think to say even as he felt the teeth rip his throat out was Willow’s name. But by then it was far too late for her as well.

---------------

Somewhere, nearly half a continent away from those murders another young woman awoke from her slumber with a start. She’d been dreaming of someone looking at her… some red haired girl. She’d been encouraging the scared girl to come in, into the warm, into the safe place. But it was safe because of the bars. She couldn’t get through the bars. She had the feeling that when she had awoken she might have shouted the girl’s name, but she couldn’t remember it. She awoken knowing that something was terribly wrong but having no idea what. Nothing was amiss where she had lain - in her room. She got out of her bed and went to the window. The darkness remained outside as she looked out – there were no bars on these windows.

She padded quietly out of her room in her pyjamas, out to the backdoor in the kitchen. The house was quiet. She stepped out the door and listened, in case there was an animal somewhere in distress that she should go help. Was that what had awoken her…? No.

She turned back to the door but as she did her foot brushed against something… her feet would be filthy. It was piece of a chopped log but the shape… something just struck her about it. Without knowing why she picked it up and carried it back inside with her. It was too big to put it in the pocket of her dressing gown but when she plonked it down on her dresser and promptly forgot about it despite its size.

Could it be her mother that had woken her… was something wrong? No… she was recovering, a little, in hospital. Getting better now. They said she might even be home soon. It must just have been a dream, just a lingering feeling from a dream. When that concrete concern had faded she slipped back into bed and was soon close to sleep again. Before she nodded off she had forgotten all about it and drifted into a sleep filled with more dreams that she would not remember.

It would be weeks before she even found that lump of wood again…

---------------

“Very posh,” Spike commented as he stepped into the conference room a few days after their excursion to Sunnydale.

“Thank you Spike,” the middle-aged human said with genuine sounding cheer in his voice. “Drusilla, a pleasure as always.”

Dru hadn’t said much since they had left The Master, just told him to bring her here and now Spike wasn’t even interested in why. He’d heard of this lot before. Sodding lawyers. Legend gave vampires a bad rep, and mostly they deserved it but lawyers were just plain old fashioned bloody evil without the excuse of being demons. Though round here that was a topic that was open to discussion from what he had heard. Even if they started out human… things happened, that either got them dead… or promoted.

“Drusilla, Spike,” Holland said, “may I introduce Lilah Morgan. Lilah is one of our most promising new talents and will be managing this project from now on,” Holland told them.

The expression on the young woman’s face was a picture, but she recovered well and quickly. Guess she might have a future here. If something didn’t eat her first, Spike thought. Which, it was rumoured, was a major route to promotion hereabouts.

“A pleasure,” Lilah said, still controlling herself well as Drusilla went over and sniffed at her, then started to play with her hair, plaiting it for her as Holland watched – amused and indulgent. But not fearful. “I have to thank you for getting us off to such a good start. Exactly what we wanted, thank you.”

Sometimes, Spike admitted, he wasn't sure just how much of Dru’s behaviour was for show and how much was her – eccentricities. And what exactly had they done? Dru hadn’t told him anything much… and everything they had done had been at the instruction, request or gift of the Master.

“Was it as you foresaw Drusilla?” Holland asked trying to distract her from the slightly skittish Lilah.

“She was soooo hungry when she woke up… she got through eight little doggies before she was all full up,” Drusilla replied.

Spike had to admit it was impressive. He hadn’t seen anything quite like that since Paris in 1926 and the mad bastard Dru had turned then hadn’t lasted two weeks before a mob took him apart. Red certainly had appetite and that monkey he had turned seemed to have gained an attitude to match his little friend too. Maybe there was something to the theory… maybe the sire did have an influence. Perhaps the monkey man had picked up some of his cool, because the girl sure as hell picked up some of Dru’s eccentricities. Which had seemed to please The Master no end when she had calmed from the post-rebirth frenzy.

Spike wasn't sure what this lot wanted though. Obviously the girl… and as a vampire to boot, but why?

Actually who cared? She was a vampire now, The Master had her and just so long as he and Dru didn’t have to drag her round the world with them - fine. One eccentric was more than enough perfection for him and monkey boy would definitely have pissed him off within twenty miles of town. And now, now he was off to the islands with Dru where – as part of their payment – they had been told there was a part of the Judge, guarded by nuns no less. Dru had always been partial to the occasional nun or ten since, he theorised, taking her own vows. Most of which he loved to help and watch her violate them very single night.

“Excellent. The firm is very appreciative of your efforts Drusilla. Very appreciative indeed. You too Spike. Anything you ever need you have only to ask.”

Dru sniffed at the young woman again and left her hair tied with a string made of human gut, flashed Holland what could only be described as a killer smile and without another word she swept out of the room with a twirl of her long dress. Leaving Spike to make the pleasant good-byes for her. Cheers love.

“Yeah, well, thanks mate. We’ll let you know if we do ever need anything,” Spike said as he tried to match Dru’s majesty with a sweep of his coat and followed after her. What she saw in these lawyers he would never know but she just kept coming back to them. It had been twenty years since they had seen young, now old, Holland. Besides Holland’s bosses were a little more… influential… than he usually liked to deal with. Everyone knew that. Once you started getting involved in other realms… that was just too far.

Holland crossed the room and closed the door behind the two vampires before Lilah spoke up. He was pleased though to see that she made no move to undo her platted hair. Despite what tied it up.

“I want to thank you sir, for your faith in me. I know that I am still quite new here, but I will really work to make this project a success,” she promised him.

“I know you will Lilah. And you won’t always be the new one in the office, in fact you may have noticed that young Lindsey Macdonald started in the department today as well – but this was always going to be for you. It needs your delicate touch. And if you do well then you will be an old hand long before this comes to fruition. This is only the beginning, actually a beginning. There is another beginning that is still to come before the project is really on track.” Holland handed her a folder, opened at a photograph of an ancient piece of what appeared to be parchment.

Attached to the photo was a hand written translation. She scanned it, applied this to what she knew already and realised what he meant. What was to come and what the whole point of this project was.

“He, this Master I mean, he has the wrong part?” she asked, fairly certain of the answer from the interpretation.

“He has one piece certainly, he only thinks he has the other. We know better don’t we Lilah?” Holland was grinning – genuinely pleased both at the news and that Lilah was already better at translating the meaning of the prophecy than that ancient vampire was. Law school still taught you better than anything how to read between the lines and spot the loopholes. It would be Wolfram and Hart that made use of this. Not some two-bit, small town vampire king.

“Yes sir.”

“You will do very well at this Lilah, I can just tell.” As a matter of fact it was crucial, but there was no telling her that. Not at this early stage.

Lilah recognised that as a promise, a reassurance, a demand and a threat. When Wolfram and Hart made any of those then it was going to be followed through. She’d already learnt that. All four… Great opportunity. It was one of the things that made the job so worthwhile… not to mention dangerous. A little danger was a good thing.

Just a little.

For now.

*******************

To be continued... and continued... don't say I didn't warn you.

Katharyn

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You hear that baby?

I love tightly constructed epics, and can tell that this is going to be quite a ride!

I look forward to any and all updates, and will be interested in seeing how you bring our girls together in the end. The dream glances scream of fate's hand at work.

quote:

---

Originally posted by Bobo's Mom:
The dream glances scream of fate's hand at work.

---

Doesn't look like I'm fooling anyone!

Katharyn

I also just want to say that you belong there at the top of the list with Lisa of Nine, Mariacomet and the rest of the great fanfic writers.

Bobo's Mom, I enjoyed reading your fic too. You should write more often too.

Two to three days before next update? Um, is asking for daily updates too much? I know excess of anything is bad for the health... well, but with your fic, it can never be bad. except that is, for cliffhangers which are really known to be really bad for the heart. I'll be over here now. Rambling much.

off to read this latest opus

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To realize one's destiny is a person's only obligation. - Paolo Coelho's The Alchemist

quote:

---

Originally posted by daydreamer:

Two to three days before next update? Um, is asking for daily updates too much?

---

Well it pretty much depends on several things:
1) Me continuing to make progress on the final redraft and the "filling of gaps" that is going on. I figure until it is actually totally complete better to be slow and steady than to end up with a week long gap.

2) My beta reader having chance to actually beta read! Only three more parts are ready for posting (including beta) as I write. Which is entirely my bad... no one thought I was going to start posting yet!

3) Getting the impression that readers have had chance to read the last part before I post the next

Beside these are pretty long parts...

If it helps I only said three days to gave myself room to move if there was a delay. I really mean at least 3 parts a week. That is my aim. And if I finish it to my satisfaction then posting will speed up.

Slightly...

Thanks everyone for the comments so far. Glad that you like the premise.

Katharyn

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You hear that baby?

*reclines comfortable back in her chair and settles in for the long haul*

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Hannah's Home -- My Collective Creative Crap

Having the inside scoop is very, very cool *s*.

I know, I know, less posting and more beta-reading. Off to do that right now.

It must be wonderful to be so adored!

I have to say that you kitties are in for a real treat here. Its not the universe you're used to - and our girls are not the way that you're used to seeing them. But this story explores the great "what if" and having read large portions of it myself I can honestly say that this is something really special and I highly recommend it to you all.

Scribite hoc in tabula dare ut videamus utram felis id scriberet!
(Let’s post it on the board and see if the kitties will comment on it!)

As in the notes which no one reads:

Jo - Wizpup - stepped in and started to Beta a huge chunk of stuff and shamed my knowledge of grammar and English! Also had some nice ideas...

Kerry - Forrister - has been there from the beginning. She made me promise to write this. She made me promise to finish it and deserves a hell of a lot of credit for the form this thing has taken. She would have been doing the beta, but real life got in her way... thinking of you dear!

And so there are my extra special credits.

Part Two will post tomorrow kittens, approx 19.00 GMT at a guess.

Have fun!

Katharyn

Can't wait for the next part.

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There is fresh snow on the ground
I can see where you've been walking,
and I follow in your footsteps...

Yay for wizpup and Forrister! May your tribe increase so that we'll always be assured of getting really brilliant fics such as this.

Three parts a week is just as great. Thanks, Katharyn.
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To realize one's destiny is a person's only obligation. - Paolo Coelho's The Alchemist

[This message has been edited by daydreamer (edited March 17, 2002).]

Here is part 2 kittens... nothing more until Wednesday at the earliest, just so my dear beta reader has a chance to have a life beside this!

Enjoy,

K
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Title: The Sidestep Chronicle – Backstep II (Part 2)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. katharynrosser@hotmail.com
Spoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities. Limited material from “The Body” is used strictly as background for this fic though these cannot be considered spoilers since I changed the reality – plus it aired ages ago.
Summary: The second Backstep, this time to take us to the defining moment in Tara’s life. The thing that drives her – at least until she gets another purpose later on – but we will get to that. This occurs a few months after Backstep Part One. For the sake of argument say around the time of “Out of Sight Out of Mind” though that is not significant other than that time has passed.
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: None – still some time to go yet.
Notes: Just to stress here, Tara is 16 and a bit here… which is why she sounds young… At least I hope she does.
Finally when I wrote The Beginning Cycle I operated under the belief that Tara may have had some younger brothers. The canon source allowed for that – a matter of interpretation. I changed my mind and went with the general consensus. There is just Donny in this fic.
Thanks To: The board moderators and their helpers who recently, even more than usual, have been proving why Pens and Kitten are absolutely the best place to be on the Net… W/T, Buffy or not. They don’t get thanked enough – and they deserve to. Louise, Kerry – be well hun – and Jo Wizpup.

The Sidestep Chronicle

Backstep Part II

By

Katharyn Rosser

“D-Daddy?”

There was no response from inside the dark house. There was not a light, not a candle. No fire in the hearth. No television or radio on. No music. Nothing. The house was completely dead. She took one of the dinner plates she had fixed up before she went to the hospital from the fridge and started to pick at the food with a fork as she walked around, turning some lights on as she went so that the house was just a little less spooky. She hated being alone out here.

The other plates were still there though. The roast meat, the potatoes. Everything was untouched. On every plate. No one had eaten a thing. They always sat down and ate. And even when they didn’t Donny couldn’t resist the rumblings of his stomach for more than few hours at a time.

Had they all gone out, perhaps to the hospital? Grabbed something in town maybe? Unless it was an urgent visit… and they wouldn’t have stooped to wait. That would be one of the only things to interrupt dinner together. That and her own absence.

But he, Daddy, had said that they were not going there today, that her mother needed her rest and that she should not go to the hospital either. Mommy was doing better but not well enough. And for the first time she could remember in a lot of years she had disobeyed him. If she thought back she could still remember the sting from the last time she had done that. But he shouldn’t mind this time. Not for that, surely. And she was a little too old for… No. ‘You’re never too old.’ That was one of favourite sayings. But usually to Donny. She didn’t give him much cause these days.

Had they gone looking for her? Worried she might have had an accident or run into some bad people? She had left a note, telling them where their dinner was and she wasn't that late anyway. She walked back to the kitchen and checked. The note was gone from the message pad. They couldn’t have missed it, everyone knew to check there. It was a big part of how they communicated in this house. She had gone straight from school, and Donny knew she was going anyway. She had made sure to tell him. He wouldn’t have pleaded ignorance and hidden that note just to get her in trouble again? Not when she had been going to the hospital surely…

But he might have. He was getting more and more out of control. Unless he shaped up soon then he was going to be the one to get in trouble – and not just with Daddy. Already the police had been here twice asking where he had been certain nights when there had been trouble in town. And Daddy had told them. He was here officer, with Tara.

And she had nodded because what choice did he give her?

She had lied to the police. And she was sure that they knew it but they didn’t seem to hold it against her. Officer Reynolds had even given her a lift this evening to the hospital. Not a word had been said about Donny, she was just a genuinely nice lady.

Tara absently picked a slice of meat from a plate with her fingers, she’d put the fork down and who was there to tell her off for eating with her fingers? She chewed on it nervously. Was she going to be in trouble? She was home. It wasn't late, it was dark sure but she wasn't past curfew. But then she had disobeyed Daddy. She had gone to the hospital when he had told her not to do that. Her mother though, her mother had been pleased to see her. She had seemed stronger. Better. Maybe it had helped her. That was why she went.

Maybe just a little to feel better herself. It was hard here alone with Daddy and Donny. Sometimes you just needed to give some love and feel some in return. She didn’t get that with them. Daddy was aloof with everyone but her Mom… and Donny he was what her grandfather would have called a bad seed. And he was her older brother. They weren’t supposed to get on.

She made her way through the house again, looking in rooms, even in the special room which would one day, she was promised, be hers. But not yet. It was as empty as the rest of the house. The restraints hanging loose, moving in the slight draft. Had she left the back door open? He wouldn’t be happy if she had, letting the cold in. Though the house was already freezing cold. She hadn’t noticed with her coat on until she had touched the doorknob here.

The house was cold. The house was never cold. Her mother couldn’t abide the cold and even when she wasn't here Daddy kept the house warm and toasty. Ready for her to come back he said. Just in case. ‘What if the hospital send her home and there is a cold house waiting for her?’ She and Donny had learnt to keep the house warm.

The house was cold. That wouldn’t do. He would be angry when he got back and if she didn’t do anything about it then it would be even worse. Even if it wasn't her fault. Failure to act to correct the problem was the sin, not the error that had caused it in the first place. Anyone could make a mistake but if you failed to act to correct it – that was just bone idleness. No excuses.

No sir.

She hurried through the house, wondering just how warm she could get it before they got back. She kinda hoped for a little time… just so it could warm up a bit. Even if she had to be all alone during that time. What they called the front door, which was actually to the rear of the house, was - as she had suspected - wide open. The state had changed their plans and moved the road whilst the house was being built, decades ago. That was why they had an open ‘front’ door at the rear. Which no one ever really used because it went virtually nowhere. It was probably Donny that had left it. He was always doing that. And she was always closing it after him. Correcting the error. Yes sir.

Not only was the door open but the fire had burnt right down in the front room. All the way down to ashes. There was nothing left at all. Wood, she needed wood. She just hoped that Donny had done his chores this morning. If there was no chopped wood then she was going to have to do it and she wasn't very good with an axe – not beyond the first swing anyway. It kept getting stuck. But she would try her best and she could certainly get enough wood to get the fire going, probably just from scraps. She should be okay with those. That was the important thing. Get the house warmed up before they came back. Do your duty for the family Tara and correct the error.

She went out of the front door and over to the shed. There was some already chopped wood thank goodness. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with that. But the barn door was open too. And that was a real no-no. That was where they stabled the horses and if one of the horses got out then Daddy would really get mad. They had to look after the horses. If they couldn’t look after them then they wouldn’t be allowed to have them anymore. Donny… if he had left the door open then… she’d do what? She’d correct the error. Yes sir. What else was she going to do?

But if Marmalade, her horse, or Duke, which was Donny’s had gotten out then there would be nothing she could do. Not until morning and tomorrow was a school day too. Donny would have to go himself to find the horse – or horses. Hopefully before Daddy found out. She didn’t want to be punished for Donny’s mistake. He would be so mad if he found out. She’d shut the doors and even if a horse was gone Daddy might not notice. He had nothing much to do with the barn on a normal day. It was theirs, her’s and Donny’s since their mother’s horse had died two summers ago – but Mommy hadn’t ridden Holst for a long time before that. Neither of them had really been up to it. She was already sick and just went out there to feed and groom the elderly horse. She’d cried for so long when he finally faded away. It hadn’t helped her illness any either. They had never replaced Holst. Maybe if they had and if she had been able to go out… would that have helped her? No she would probably have got a chill. Her chest was weaker even then.

Tara was getting mad, whispering to herself as she crossed the yard towards the barn. Helplessness about her mother’s illness compounded with Donny’s stupidity. There was a faint glow from inside, maybe a lamp somewhere hidden from view. Were they in there? Was that where they were? But doing what? Maybe one of the horses was sick. Please don’t let it be Marmalade. Please.

“Daddy? Donny?” she called out to them, hoping that they were in there, that none of this was her fault and that she really wasn’t all alone out here. She didn’t like to be alone; she just couldn’t help imagining that there were things out in the night waiting for her. Knowing that there were things wasn't any comfort to her at all. Her mother made sure that she knew what was out there – and how you could deal with them. Daddy hadn’t objected to that when she had told Tara. What would work against what, so many things to remember – but she could never do any of that. She was too much of a coward. Donny and Daddy. They would deal with anything that came out of the night to threaten them. That was their role.

She rounded the big barn door and could see that the light was coming from above. The stable doors though, at least they were closed. She picked up a torch from where it hung beside the door and went to check on Marmalade who was moving around a lot. She could hear her in the stall.

The horse had dried saliva all around her mouth and her eyes were still wide, alert. If she had been human Tara would have thought she was shocked. Something… something had upset the horse.

Horses.

Duke in the stall next to her was in the same condition, but with a quick glance they both seemed otherwise all right, thank the goddess.

She stuck her arm over the door towards her horse, expecting her hand to be nuzzled but Marmalade shied away from the hand as if it was holding a burning flame. Violently, back so far that her hindquarters banged into the back of the stable.

Which had not been mucked out.

Neither of them had.

One thing Donny never missed. Never failed to do, even if it was a chore. He never forgot to care for the horses. Never. She did his household chores and he would muck out the horses. He had never complained. He loved it. He taunted her with it whilst she was washing up in the morning – which she did not love quite so much. He wouldn’t forget that job – he valued the horses too much.

Something must have happened, early, to stop that being done. But what? There was no reason for them both to go out… She had just come from the hospital and the chores had not been done all day so they hadn’t been called out to her mother, thank goodness. The house was stone cold. So it wasn't recently they had left either. What were they doing? Where were they?

Looking back on it later she was never sure what it was that drew her up into the hayloft. She couldn’t remember going up there since she had been hiding from Donny when she was seven, spiked her hand on a rusty nail and needed a tetanus shot. Which had really hurt. And then Daddy had punished them both for playing in dangerous places. But something had pulled her to the ladder nonetheless. She just, she thought much later, knew…

Something had drawn her up that ladder and to stick her head through the trapdoor to see… just a bale of hay. What else would it be? It was where they kept the fodder for the horses. Another reason why she let Donny care for the horses. She could barely move a bale, let alone throw it around the hayloft. All she could see shining the torch around. Hay, hay and more hay. Oh look some more hay. But not neat and orderly as Daddy insisted that everything should be. Correct the errors. She couldn’t lift a bale but she could make them a bit neater and tell Donny to sort them out later. When she caught up with him.

When she found them both.

She climbed up through the trapdoor and straightened up. Look around at the mess.

She wouldn’t be telling Donny anything again.

Or Daddy either.

She had found them and sooner than she expected to.

She didn’t have to shine the torch to see them in the dim light. The pale waxy flesh showed very clearly in the murk. So did the tears at their necks which had been ripped open by some sort of animal… or…

Tara screamed.

She kept screaming until she couldn’t anymore because of the pain in her throat then she just groaned and cried.

But no one came because there was no one to hear her and she really was all alone out here.

---------------

They had taken her to the hospital when they came and found her. Not in the ambulance with her Daddy and her brother but in the police car. She had stayed slumped in the hayloft all through the night. Not daring to get up and make the telephone call. Not because of what might be out there but because she couldn’t help thinking that Daddy would be annoyed if she had left him there in the dark. It wasn't until the dawn light had filtered through the dusty glass in the window above the bodies that she had been able to move at all. And after she had seen exactly what had been done to them. It wasn't any animal… not any wild animal anyway.

She had stumbled to the house, found the phone and dialled 911, for some reason she even asked for an ambulance. It had seemed right. She knew that there was no point in asking for an ambulance. None at all. But she had anyway. Then she had told them to send the police too. The police station was much nearer, just on this side of town. The ambulance had to come from further away as the hospital had no emergency room. Then with the police on the fifteen-minute drive out to the farm she had started to get the house in order. When they had finally pulled up she had lit the fire as she intended to do last night, chopped some more wood and started to prepare breakfast for four. What else could she have done? There has to be a routine, Tara. Otherwise how will you know what to do and when. Flights of fancy don’t get things done. Nor does just reacting.

Yes sir.

It hadn’t taken much for one officer that she had never met before, Durkin, to accept a plateful whilst they had waited for the ambulance and the coroner that they called, though she had been aware of Clare Reynolds prodding him and trying to tell him that he shouldn’t. But then even she had accepted a plate when the wait started to drag on and they had no idea what to say to her. Something like this they just had to secure the crime scene. Some other officers would do the investigating and there were no witnesses out here. That meant they just had to eat their breakfast whilst Tara flitted around doing her chores. Eventually they sat her down, fearing she was in shock.

Tara though didn’t need any investigation by the coroner. She knew what had done it. Something, a vampire from what she had always been taught, had come out of the darkness and ripped her Daddy’s and brother’s throats out.

She hadn’t said that to the police of course. They might have known something of the family reputation. Everyone in town knew about the Maclay family. They would have said that she was crazy for saying it. They might have thought that she was anyway. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t answer their questions properly. She just asked them if they wanted more eggs, because wasting good food was a something you should not do. No sir. Somebody is going to eat it, she had found herself saying, and when they refused she did so herself.

Then the sick feeling hit her again and she went and threw up.

Sorry sir.

Vampires. She had never seen one but everyone knew the rules. Out here you had to know the rules. Different creatures, different rules. What was it for vampires? Sunlight, staking, beheading and fire. Silver? She didn’t think so.

No, that was what killed them. Those weren’t the rules. Never invite them in. But they didn’t have to be invited into a barn. It wasn’t a home except to the horses – and that wasn’t the same. Had they been invited in the house? There was no mess. Maybe they couldn’t get in. They had looted the barn but not the house. Why?

They couldn’t get in. She was still alive. Her mother was still alive. It was their home too. So whilst the two of them were still alive they couldn’t get in. So they had to go somewhere else… they were still close by. The police hadn’t found any tyre tracks other than Daddy’s truck – which was still parked up. She could… maybe…

No she couldn’t. Even though the police would never catch them and never be able to do anything about it she could do even less, she was just a Maclay woman and she knew her place. But that place was empty of direction now. There was just the Maclay women left.

And beyond the brain-numbing pain all that she could think as they put her to bed was that if they killed her then it was still alright as they couldn’t get in whilst her mother was alive – and she was getting better. They couldn’t be allowed into the house. That was the family’s place

But who would look after the horses?

And who would tell Mommy?

---------------

Tara saw her third dead body little more than three hours after reaching the hospital and for the next three hours after that she sat talking to it, holding the cooling and stiffening hand. Talking, begging, apologising, even cursing. For some reason the doctors and nurses couldn’t get through the mortuary door, even though it was not locked. Tara didn’t even notice that she was doing it. Eventually they gave up and let her stay in there with her Mother.

Now she really was alone. Who did she have left in the entire world now?

They said it was ‘just’ a complication of the treatment. One doctor had confided however that it might have been the stress of the news of the death of her husband and son. Delivered not by Tara who had begged to leave her own bed to do the deed but instead by some police officer no doubt spouting the same false standardised and trained condolences that he had delivered to her back at the house. She just hoped that it had been Officer Reynolds if it had been anyone.

They just couldn’t wait for her? They just couldn’t have let her deal with it? It was a family matter. There was no bigger family matter. They were still family. They had been anyway… Now she was her own family.

There is just me, she thought.

Your family loves you Tara.

Well who was there left to love her now?

They had killed her mother. Even though she had been safe here. Her presence in the hospital had saved her from Daddy and Donny’s fate, it might even have saved Tara – stopped her from getting home as she normally would have done, before sunset, and ending up there with Daddy and Donny. Dead.

Right now death did not seem too bad at all. It would be some relief from the tight pain that constricted her lungs and ripped into her heart.

They had killed her mother.

The so-very-strong woman enfeebled by an illness. Who had fought the enemy within herself so hard, so bravely even though it must have been easier to just give up, so that she could come back to them. She had never given up on loving them enough to come back, no matter how great the pain that Tara knew she was suffering. It had been getting better. A little better. But not enough.

She had been getting better and now they had killed her anyway. Just as if she had been in that barn too.

They, the police and her doctors, had just made a mistake in telling her.

It was the damned vampires… they had killed her. Just as surely as if they had come in here and ripped her throat out themselves. And now there was no one she could go to. No one she could ask what to do about it. She had to think for herself.

She had to grow up and stop waiting for instructions. There would be no more orders, firm suggestions and requests because there wasn't a single person she respected, loved or really even knew left. She had things to do.

She carefully placed her mother’s cold hand on the table and pulled the sheet tidily over it, bent and kissed her forehead and covered her again, smoothing out the creases in the white sheet, wondering just how they got the sheets so perfectly white, wash after wash.

There was a whole family who required justice and she had the chance to do that.

She hoped.

---------------

She finally tracked them down. They had stayed so close that it hurt her. They were so confident… so superior that they didn’t feel the need to flee the scene of their crime. They had not gone anywhere at all really. A couple of miles west, to the next farm. It had taken her nearly the whole night to find the spell in the volumes she had last seen months ago - those that had been passed down from mother to daughter in this family for nearly two centuries. Longer still to then anchor it in her mother’s pendant, slipping it on to hang at her throat. She didn’t even know that it had worked until she found them and the burning sensation started.

The spell books, the ingredients had never been passed to her. She had just taken them now as her own.

There was no one to pass them to her. Quite likely there never would be anyone for her to pass them to either. There was a plus point at least. And Daddy was not there to stop the passing. Donny was not there to tell tales on her about it. But everyone knew that her mother had been showing her things…

By the Goddess she wished that they were here. That it could all be as it had been. But there was no way for that to happen. No way that she could ever contemplate at least. There were ways of course. But she had learnt her lessons well. There were certain things in magic that you should not do… she was about to try one of them, but that was one thing. There were also things that you should never do. Raisings for one.

The thought had crossed her mind… after.

It had not been too hard to dismiss it. Horrible as it was to have lost her family, it was the way things were and you could not mess around with the forces of life and death. In one way it was even the natural order. Predator and prey. But that cut both ways. And she had seen the illustrations if just what might come back if she had tried that. She had read of what could happen. She had been told what had happened. Before.

Quite likely she would not survive to see another sun set so she had made sure that she had enjoyed last night’s. She had sat with her mother’s books and a lamp on the porch reading as day faded though into dusk and into night. She’d even taken some time to look up at the stars, wondering at the constellations. Were any of them worse places than this world? That would be a bad place indeed. If she had only found the spell more quickly and Thespia had shown her the way to the demons whilst it was still dark then she might not even have made it this long. The delay had, at least, brought her daylight. Daylight was her friend now, along with sharp pieces of wood and fire. The sun not just a giver of life, but for some things certain death. It marked them out as unnatural. She had no reason to fear using her talents, her gifts – or her curse as Daddy would call it – against the unnatural. Against vampires.

If they were darkness and she was opposing them then that made her the shining light of justice. Maybe she wasn't totally convincing herself with that. But what choice did she have? Who else was there to do this round here? If she did not do this thing then no one would and others would die as certain as night follows day.

It would have been more of her family as it turned out.

The vampires were, Thespia had graciously revealed, on the farm of her Uncle Brett. Her father’s brother and she didn’t even know if they knew what had happened. She had never thought to warn them because she had never seen them too much – considering they lived so close and all. Cousin Beth was a regular visitor to their house, though she didn’t get on too well with Donny which made things tricky, but her father’s family seemed to dislike the Maclay’s whose family name he had taken on marrying her mother.

She could guess why and she couldn’t totally blame them. But the petty family differences were irrelevant now. The vampires were on their farm and if the sun set once more, or if they ventured into their own barn then... More death. She couldn’t allow that, not again.

Tara had approached with as much care as she could, years of playing hide and seek with Donny serving her well to move through the long, tall, stalks in the fields with a minimum of disturbance. She could see, from the fence, that her Aunt and Uncle were both in the kitchen. Thank Thespia once more for that. The vampires, she was sure, were in the barn – after all it had worked so far. Carefully she opened her senses up, as she had been taught, and the wave of blackness rolled over her. They were there… but they were not alone.

Beth.

Beth was in there with them and she was very scared.

What could she do? She had planned so many things. She had intended to deliver face to face justice whilst having them tell her why. Why they were here. Why they had chosen that barn. Why they had to kill them… But all of that had depended upon the time, being able to do this as she wanted to… not being driven to try and save another life – and taking the responsibility for that.

How she was going to achieve all of that? She’d never done anything like that. She’d never felt anything like this. She’d never truly hated before, but the hatred of the beasts that they were was feeding off the raw wounds of her bereavement. She had come out here with a couple of sharpened pieces of wood. And there were more than four of them. If she could have had time to think, to plan properly – knowing that – she might have got her Aunt and Uncle out of the farm and then thought about separating the vampires, trying something sensible… having a plan.

A sensible plan. That would have got her killed.

But in the best possible cause. What else did she have left to live for? Her family? Not anyone. All of her friends perhaps. Drawing a blank there too.

Now though there was Beth to think about. No more wondering. No more impractical plans to make them tell her what she wanted to know. She had to act… She could see them now through the barn door. They were about to bite. To feed. To kill. That was what they did.

Her cry distracted them, and probably alerted the people in the house. But there was no time. They just grinned a fang filled grin at her. Help me, mouthed Beth, though she was probably shouting it. The world seemed silent around her as she focussed on other things. The vampires were unconcerned. They could not come out and she could not go in there. They moved towards Beth, moved to bite her.

As Tara looked at Beth all she could see was the face of her mother – they had always looked alike - calling to her, reminding her. Words. Incantations. That was what the image was saying. It sprang to her mind almost unbidden. Certainly, she realised later, she would never have attempted it if she had been anything less than desperate particularly lacking the spell ingredients that would shift the focus from her mind and body to something more… disposable. She completed the phrase and the spell ripped through her mind and crippled her body. She staggered and fell by the fence, the vampires grinning even wider.

Until they realised that they had moved, without taking a step, victim and all, from the safe sun-proof barn and reappeared out in the yard.

Under direct sunlight where it took only a fraction of a second for them to burst into flames.

Tara struggled to lift her head, but it felt as if someone had hammered a spike though it, nailing it to the ground. She forced herself to raise it, her skull and her brain up along that spike. Taking the pain to see them burn as they deserved to burn, screaming in pain before they vanished in a poof of ash… and even that burnt up in the daylight. Evil consumed by the light of justice. She collapsed again, exhausted and hurting in every part of her being.

To see that her cry had indeed alerted the remaining members of her family.

Beth ran back to her parents, Tara could see that from where her head had fallen now next to immobile. Tara could see her shouting, pointing at Tara frantically. They all hurried over to where she lay on the ground. But they seemed reluctant to touch her. They probably thought that she would burn them up too. She almost wanted to laugh, except there was nothing funny. Nothing at all. She heard a female voice hiss “demon.”
“Shut up,” a man said. That must have been Uncle Brett.

She thought she heard Beth say “Look at her eyes. Her eyes.” What was wrong with her eyes apart from the fact, that like every other sense in her body the burned? After I saved their daughter… that? They call me a demon now? Just because I will be… but not yet! She wanted to scream that. Not yet!

But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak in her own defence, if there even was one, to explain what she had done but never to tell them how... She knew that she’d been to a dark place. And that she hadn’t yet come back from there. The pain was good… it was the penalty for her actions, her choices. This time, to save Beth and the rest of them… to get her justice… she would pay that price. But look what it had done to her, leaving her writhing, out of control of her body, in the dirt. She couldn’t even trust herself to cry properly. It hurt, the pain in her head. All over… but most of all in her head. But that was not the worst of it.

Eventually Uncle Brett stopped the debate with a “We can’t leave her there. Whatever she is, she’s only sixteen,” and picked her up and carrying her inside their house, placing her on Beth’s bed. Teen boy-band posters grinned down at her from the walls from the ceiling, bare and shiny chested. By the Goddess could this possibly get any worse? Oh yeah… here came the pain and the grief again. She started to cry.

Uncle Brett handed her a handkerchief, and it seemed like a grand gesture. Tara tried to blow her nose, but the pain exploded in her head as she strained. He took it from her and wiped her eyes, her runny nose for her. “You can stay here until your family, well until they are in the ground. I’ll help you with the arrangements. Then you better scoot. Get out of town. This isn’t the place for you. We’ll watch the farm until you can sell it,” he told her. Between what he and Beth had seen he must know what she had done for them all – especially his daughter. He just didn’t want to admit it, even to himself and his superstitious wife… Aunt Marie had never got on with Tara or her mother. Uncle Brett wasn't going to fight that just for her. And she was too weak to do anything but nod. She would leave. There was nothing here for her now. Nothing but three burials.

But where would she go? What could she do? If she couldn’t stay then she couldn’t finish school. She had liked the learning but hated the people… besides there was still her demon heritage to contend with. Two, three years and she would be just like those vampires anyway. Perhaps it was time to try and redress the balance. To make things a little better, before they got so much worse.

Justice. The idea was a bright spot in the blackness that threatened to consume her. Unwanted, unloved, cast out and hurting inside and out… it was all that she had to cling to.

And somewhere there was something responsible for all this. Something she could seek out.

Justice. She must have said it aloud as Uncle Brett turned back to her and asked what she had said. “Nothing,” she replied to him. Nothing you need to know.

All that she had in the world now was a need for ongoing justice. To know why it had happened and to stop it from happening to anyone else. And her answers were not here. He was right. This wasn't her place. Perhaps it never had been. She had always wanted things that she was not supposed to have.

Happiness.

A life.

Love.

And now all of that was lost to the need for justice. But knowing that couldn’t help her stop crying.

---------------

“The second part of our puzzle Lilah?” Holland asked as Lilah entered the conference room carrying the rarely used project folder. Not that he could read it from that distance. He was just on top of everything that happened in Special Projects. “I believe the appointed day was reached sometime last week, for whatever that is worth.”

“You know prophecy.” Lilah confirmed, agreeing more than just because he was her boss. He had actually taught her about the nature of that predictive force. And showed her what happened when you ignored the proverbial ‘small print.’ As The Master in Sunnydale appeared to have done. Prophecy was, generally speaking, the most unreliable thing that she had come across in this job. That and juries. Of course you could influence a jury – one way or another. And here at Wolfram and Hart they also believed that you could influence prophecy – or at least tinker with the variables.

“Yes. We think so,” Lilah told him as she reviewed the file on this, one of the first projects she had been assigned at the firm. And potentially one of the most important she had been involved with until quite recently. To be given something like this so early… trusting that she would advance far enough to do the project justice, that was a sign of the faith that the practice had in her future. She had no intention of disappointing. The results of disappointment could be… painful.

“We Lilah?” Holland was always keen to test her responses, tighten up her grammar and to gauge her sense of responsibility. It was critical in fact. She had a very responsible role – that would only get more so. He knew she was going to go far.

“Sorry,” she smiled, “I think so. We – I have had reports of a family being killed, by vampires. The only survivor was the daughter who notified the police. The mother who was already in hospital died shortly after being given the news,” she told him, summarising the twenty-page report that had been sent to her office half an hour earlier. She hoped that she had not missed anything critical in scanning it through, but Holland had no more windows available today and he had to know.

“‘And the one shall be left alone by the hand of those who stalk the night,’ very good, very good.” Holland recited from memory.

“Exactly sir,” Lilah replied, impressed at his precise knowledge of the wording of a prophecy they had not even discussed in a several months. Though the mother had not been killed by vampires which the prophecy seemed to indicate. Which was a slight worry. Unless the girl blamed the vampires anyway. Some sort of cancer the medical report had said, but the mother was supposed to be improving. Hopefully the girl would lay the responsibility for the shock at the feet of the undead.

“No reports of any other incidents?” he asked wanting to be certain that this was the one. There could be no doubts allowed.

“None that even remotely fit the profile sir. Random killings and only a few of those.” It had been Halloween after all.

“And is it the one who we expected it to be?” Holland asked.

“Yes sir. That would appear to give us confirmation of the prophecy. It was the girl that you were told to expect it to be. Though I am not sure just how you knew.” That was puzzling Lilah and there was no harm in a little fishing expedition. He would stop her cold if she were going places that she shouldn’t.

Holland had left a note for in the project file, sealed, which she had been instructed to open only on the occurrence of this event. On it was name. The right name.

Holland smiled, clearly not about to give the answer to the question she had asked regarding his methods. It wasn't that he didn’t trust her; it was just that Lilah, especially Lilah, had no need to know about some of the other sources available to Wolfram and Hart. Sources who only ‘talked’ to those in more senior positions. “Excellent. Prophecy can be a tricky thing. What about the reaction?”

“Untrained but effective and extreme,” Lilah told him. “The reports are unclear, our monitors couldn’t get near enough to see much – there was only a day between the event being reported and the reaction. It wasn’t their fault.” He nodded, noting the fact. “But dark magics may well have been involved. That indicates a high degree of control, power. I think that she might be a suitable candidate for our own special projects op-”

“No Lilah. You can’t recruit her. Not yet at least. Maybe. One day.”

“But she is all alone, recently bereaved - this is the ideal time.” This was the optimum moment for recruitment, there might never be a better one. After all what did the girl have left to lose? Allowing her to recover from that – as she eventually would – would only make the recruitment a trickier proposition.

“Yes it is. But so it is written etcetera,” Holland commented with disdain for prophecy that you could only feel dealing with dozens everyday. “Besides she won’t use those magics again. If she does… there will be nothing left - very, very quickly. I would assume it was the bereavement, an extreme situation. We know that she will be in a certain place at a certain time. The strains of that sort of spell casting on such a young mind and body. She’d be dead, or certifiable inside a year.” He examined a fingernail then looked up. “You know that Lilah.”

“Yes sir.” Fair enough. He seemed to think that she would have another chance, and it was not essential to the project anyway. Simply a bonus, and he was definitely right about the magic. They had to hope for a long, slow burn rather than a brief star bright explosion.

“You have the monitors still on her of course?”

“A permanent team is on their way now sir. They will be in place very shortly.” Lilah had been impressed by her choices. Two teams to start with who would observe the girl twenty four hours a day until they were absolutely sure that she was the one. And that she could be of use to the firm.

However long that might take and in whatever form? Best case, she might not even know it until I recruit her, Lilah thought to herself, keeping a tight lid on the speculation

“‘Excellent Lilah, well done. There is to be no interference by the monitors. Whatever happens. Understood? If the girl is in danger of being injured or even killed they are not try to be helpful and interfere…” The way he said helpful showed just what he felt about the sort of help they might provide.

“I have already given them personal instructions.”’ It hadn’t taken much persuasion at all. All the monitors were experienced and more particularly Wolfram and Hart veterans. It would have been more extraordinary to ask them to ensure the girl came to no harm. Besides the order would be in the files – and they knew it. It wouldn’t be her fault and they knew that too. They knew where the blame would fall. They would obey.

“Excellent.” Holland turned back to his work and Lilah knew she was dismissed. As she turned to go however he spoke again. “Oh Lilah?”

“Yes sir?”

“What was that name on the paper again?”

“Maclay sir, Tara Maclay.”

Am I gushing a bit here? Too bloody right I am!!! I am priveleged to have the inside scoop on this fic and I can say that you are in for a great read which has highs, lows, love, hate, death, life, and of course a little loving.

Wow! Just.... Wow. This part just got me riveted to my monitor. Tara's initial shock of finding her Daddy and Donny dead, her feeling of total aloneness with the death of her Mommy, and her pain gushing out in waves.... you have just brilliantly laid out the foundation for Tara's motivation to seek vengeance and justice. Excellent, excellent writing. Wow.

And this prophecy, it's about Tara and Willow/Vamp Willow, right? Now, my curiosity is piqued. I have to agree with Bobo's Mom, you could totally see fate's hand at work here. This is getting to be exciting and scary... in a good way. Can't wait for the next part.

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I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul... - Pablo Neruda

Wonderful. Just sitting here waiting for Wednesday and the next update.

quote:

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Originally posted by Tiggrscorpio:
Wow, that was unbelievably difficult to read, but in a totally good way. I can't wait to see how Tara develops out of all this despair and sorrow.

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That was the key point.... this couldn't be easy to read (or write) otherwise that point was not being made. If the reader can accept the rationale as given in that part and what follows in the next couple then the set-up is complete and the true story can begin to be told.

This is not arguably not the darkest point in this fic (Willow dead and Tara wishing she was to some extent) - however it is certainly the reason for it.

Thanks for all for the comments and animated smilies! Never had animated ones...

And yeah Pixie, this is what we have been doing but the oil and stuff... *ahem* you think that I can keep typing? I'd get RSI. I will say this though... I do not ultimately regard this as a VW/T fic. Certainly it features VW though... make of that what you will.

BTW I am more than happy to address any questions that people might have either here or on e-mail, as long as you don't ask to be spoiled, because I won't do that.

Katharyn

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You hear that baby?

quote:

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Originally posted by Katharyn:
I will say this though... I do not ultimately regard this as a VW/T fic. Certainly it features VW though... make of that what you will.

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