by Katharyn » Wed Feb 06, 2013 12:10 pm
Title: Tara and Willow – Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda – Chapter Fifty-Four
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Absolutely, yes please. That’s why I write for this place, to engage in the discussion about the story.
Spoiler warning: Not sure why I am bothering, really, but Season 4 and Season 5 of BTVS.
Distribution: This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens and the Kitten Board please. No conversion to eBook or other formats please. Enjoy it here.
Summary: New Moon Rising… Oz comes after Tara and things start to go… differently.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc. I am making no money from this series of stories however all original characters and situations remain my property. As this is a missing scenes and alternate reality fiction lots of scenes are new versions of those seen in the show, as such dialogue and situations are taken from the show. I’m sure you can tell which. All credit for those aspects goes to the original writers.
Rating: Occasional, tasteful, adult situations and contextual bad language. However by and large equivalent to the show.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever, that’s all I’m bothered about.
Text convention: Use of italics denotes either special emphasis if used for a single or a few words in a sentence OR first person thoughts if used for a whole sentence.
Notes: Okay, we’re still New Moon Rising and why not? We’ll be here a while yet, too. Still, I promise, you’ll notice when it ends. However, for all that one reality echoes another one and certain things just have to happen as they were always intended to (this is a theme for me as some readers may know) we’re going to break out of that again… starting very soon. But for now, at the very start, we’re back with the familiar… (no pun intended)
Willow, I should say, still doesn’t really doubt what she knows. The thing for her is she doesn’t know how to deal with it, or how to avoid hurting anyone. Of course, not hurting anyone hurts someone… As we open she’s going through a process more than anything else. Trying to rationalise what doesn’t fit a rationale.
Thanks to: Once again I have to acknowledge that this chapter lifts a lot of elements and lines directly from the script of the canon.
Pros and cons.
It should’ve been easy to make a list, right? Just a list? But she didn’t even know how to head it up, let alone go through everything that needed to appear on it. Willow Rosenberg, incapable of making a list properly… This was what she’d been brought to.
Who was pro? Who was con?
She switched pens and scratched out the words above the empty columns. Wrote ‘Tara’ and ‘Oz’ instead.
But no, that wasn’t going to work either. Oz had done things that were a con while she couldn’t think about Tara being anything other than a pro. Writing that in would… was that a con? That Tara was just too good for her? How did you live up to some kind of perfection like that over a prolonged period of time?
She didn’t add it, thinking about the mostly empty piece of paper and how it might look. Oz had some pros as well, not by comparison but certainly just in his own right.
So if she wrote anything in either column under their names then she was going to have to write pros and cons in both sides and then all she’d have was a list for each person that swirling around in her mind and what was that going to do to help anyway? She already knew what was in her head…
The good points and the bad… Somehow she felt – because it was a decision making crutch she’d used often in the past – she should really try it this time.
Oz had cheated on her. Tara never would.
She had history with Oz, going back years. A lot of special moments. Tara… not so much in time, but there had still been plenty of special moments, even if just in the last couple of months. More even than in years with Oz, but there’d be more with either of them, she supposed. So that wasn’t really anything she could write down, was it?
Oz had just left, not even getting into it with her, not making it a decision for them. Tara… She couldn’t see Tara doing that. Tara would’ve talked things through. Always.
Oz had a dark secret that – apparently - he’d beaten and Tara… didn’t. She hadn’t beaten it, but didn’t need to either.
What was it she’d said to Buffy? Oz was Oz… Okay, but Tara was Tara and that was no less special… maybe more.
Both made her laugh, sure their jokes were really different but… they made her laugh. You know, when Oz spoke.
That was something else, for different reasons, they were both very capable of quiet. One of those had driven her to distraction – sometimes – and the other… she treasured.
Oz had musical talent, but Tara could sing. Muppet karaoke at least. They’d proven that and… what was this, a talent show? No… Technically it was a Computer Security 101 lecture that she was barely registering, let along paying attention to or making notes about. She’d been doing this stuff when she was twelve and she had no fear about what was going to be on the test. Just for fun she’d already hacked the professor’s email. Just to prove she could and to size up the likely difficulty of the test.
Not very difficult, if his own security and password selection was anything to go by.
So… In effect this was like a free period. All that she’d written down in her notebook was the dividing line and four scratched out words. No more a hint of a decision than there were any notes.
Pros and cons… useless. How did you judge people that way? People you loved. Had loved. Would love. Something about love anyway. They weren’t cars to choose between or vacation destinations. Not even cars to rent on vacation.
Crumpling up the entire sheet paper, she found the entire lecture hall turning around to look at her. And Doctor Farman who was giving the lecture. Umm. “Sorry. Unexpectedly crunchy.” She was surprised he’d even heard it, she knew from the headers of his email that he had regular appointments from his ear doctor. It’d been hard to avoid noticing some things when it was right there staring at her.
The lecture continued after her apology and no one was paying attention to her. Wanting to listen, wanting to put what she had to decide out of her mind wasn’t enough. It was like thinking about wanting to go to sleep, it just kept you awake all the more because now you were worried about why that wasn’t happening. It was only hours later that you remembered that there were tricks that you could’ve used to get to sleep…
And sleep wasn’t something she’d had a lot of. Or any, actually… if she counted sheep right now then she might easily find herself nodding off, except… the sheep that she was thinking of were being savaged by a werewolf. “Ughhhhh!”
Willow jerked upright and… once again everyone was looking at her.
“Miss Rosenberg, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Sleep on your own time or leave my lecture hall, please. No more disturbances.”
Mortified as lots of people were quietly laughing at her, barely concealing their amusement at all, she sat up very straight, eyes opened very wide and… what was she going to do?
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On her way to her next class, Tara really didn’t know what to think.
She didn’t even know what to hope. Daddy had always told her there was such a thing as ‘fool’s hope’, it was the kind of thing that stopped you doing what you should because instead you delayed, hoping that something strange and miraculous would happen. Overcoming all of the odds against it.
The sort of combination of events that you’d maybe heard about but never experienced. Daddy had learned about it in the marines, came to believe it when he’d heard stories of men who’d been miraculously saved by those strange combinations of chance and coincidence. What he’d drilled into her and Donny though was that you couldn’t ever rely on it.
Or you ended up just a story told by other people, you rarely got to tell it yourself.
You heard about those weird things, but the only thing you heard about all the other times that it didn’t happen that way was when things went wrong. In the marines that had meant people getting hurt or killed.
Daddy had never held with waiting for things to work out, he firmly believed in being realistic enough not to need fools hope. You prepared for what you could influence and change, you accepted what you couldn’t and found the next best thing to do instead.
There were always choices, which was ironic when she thought about all the things where she had no choice. This wasn’t one of them though…
She’d been all into Faith’s advice to fight her corner without – you know – the actual ‘fight’. But then Oz’s presence in Willow’s room had deflated her.
Then she’d considered bowing out with some kind of dignity, telling Willow that it was okay. That she understood and that Oz had been there first and longest and…
But then Willow had held her, hugged her and she’d stroked Willow’s hair and smelled her and – and - how could she just give in? Not backing out became an important, key decision and she’d made it. But that didn’t mean that she was actively doing much to get things to turn her way. How could she? This was Willow’s heart, her love… Not something to influence, it had to be felt and acted on.
Knowing that Willow did love her – and she’d not doubted that since long before Willow had shouted it out to the whole world on that deserted beach – was no comfort. She’d never actually doubted it, not once, and there was no hiding the fact that love existed between them.
And probably would continue to do so after, if…
But love wasn’t enough if she wasn’t the one that Willow chose to be with. It’d just be a pale shadow of what they’d promised themselves. And that was exactly why Oz was –
Right here?
“Willow!”
She stopped in the corridor, processed who he was and that he was right here and… he’d called her Willow? And now he was confused, what was up with that? Except… Oh, he was a werewolf. That was why he’d left and didn’t they – didn’t they have better senses of smell? Oh… He’d smelt Willow on her?
Oh…
And, even though he knew she wasn’t his girlfriend – his ex-girlfriend – he was coming over to her anyway. Cheerful, if confused by what his senses were telling him.
“Hey. Lara, right?”
“Tara,” she said quietly.
“I thought I sm… ah, I thought I heard Willow.”
So she’d been right. What else might his wolfy senses be able to tell him? After all she and Willow had spent most nights together in the last week, they were bound to be… It was disconcerting, that he could detect something she hadn’t even been aware of. And she’d just hugged Willow took, stroked her hair. Taken comfort from what was now – perhaps – betraying her?
Did he know about them? Did he know he was in a competition? Even if it was only with her? No… if he knew, Willow would’ve told her. But if he figured it out… She clutched her books more tightly, keeping it like a shield between them.
But he was holding books too. Which was… bad.
“You’re um, you’re coming back to school here, huh?” she asked. Say no. Say no. Say no.
He nodded, gave her an easy going smile. “Pretty much. Feeling… oddly motivated.”
That’d be Willow. She was oddly motivating in a bottle of love and desire and… She caught him sniffing at the air again, and then the confusion. Which meant he was trying to figure out what his non-native senses were telling him, animal instincts in conflict with the evidence of his eyes and mind?
He’s looking for Willow and can’t find her here. Asking himself what’s going on. What the possibilities are.
Tara knew that she just had to get away from here, before he came to the right conclusion – or even a dangerously wrong one. But on the other hand… if he was going to be a part of Willow’s life and she wasn’t going to lose her as at least a friend then didn’t she have to be nice, at least?
Besides… running now would only tell him what he needed to know.
“That’s um, that’s great. I mean, that’s, that’s great for you and Willow, right?” She was also, obviously, interested in his intentions. Would he pick up on that?
“I hope so,” he said brightly. Like they were just two people who shared a common friend and both wanted the best for her. He was just convinced that he was the best for Willow, because he didn’t even know there was an alternative stood right here in front of him.
She felt anonymous again, unseen in a room full of people. Like… before Willow.
She shifted the books in her hands, getting a better grip. “Good, that’s, because - ”
“Is that her sweater?” he asked, finally putting the evidence of his eyes and his nose together.
She looked down at the sweater she’d borrowed when the weather had turned while they were out a few days ago. It was one of Willow’s favourites so of course he’d probably know it. Denial was… pointless. Anyone else she could’ve just said it was coincidence but not him. The scent…
But people – girlfriends - friends who were girls borrowed stuff all the time though so… why the big deal? Maybe it was only a big deal if she made it one.
“I just, I just hope that you guys will be very… happy.”
So she didn’t like to think of anyone else making Willow happy? She couldn’t think of Willow without wanting her to be happy. No matter who with.
He wasn’t fooled though, following his nose another step closer. “You smell like her, it’s not just… She’s all over you, do you know that?”
That part of her that was most influenced by Faith flared, briefly. Of course I know! Stupid dog boy! Of course I know! I love her. I’ve held her, comforted her, and been with her when you ran away from her, when you left her alone and heartbroken. I was there! Of course I know!
And then faded, because… time to be afraid.
He was angry now and right away her instincts on how to deal with big dogs had kicked in, don’t look them in the eye and don’t show fear. Avoiding his eyes, she hoped that would be enough because now that he was angry, she was getting even more afraid.
But… “I can’t. I - I can’t talk about this.” She had to get out of here now, because she couldn’t be the one to tell him about her and Willow. She couldn’t. I might not even be able to get through the words.
He grabbed her arm though, stopped her walking away from him.
Flustered, she knew she’d said the wrong thing. They were on a wavelength, she and Oz. Perhaps it was a Willow-wavelength.
“But there is something to talk about?” He was angrier now. Angry, perhaps, with events and his assumptions. Maybe even with Willow who wasn’t here to tell him anything, but she was the one who was right here… the one he was holding, his grip tightening until his fingers were digging into her arm. Hurting her.
What could she say? What did she say? Lie?
“Are you two involved?” He made the leap accurately enough based on her silence. What she wasn’t saying was at least as important as what she was.
“I have – I - I - I have to go”
“Cause she never said anything to me like that. We talked all night and she never said - ”
Tara, backing off, trying to get herself away from him, knew that she was the focus of anger that wasn’t even necessarily her fault.
“No, stop!” He grabbed her again, shouting now. “Is she in love with you? Tell me, is she?!” He was shaking her too and she dropped the books, looking first down at them and then – disbelievingly - at him.
Oh Gods…
This…? Was this even possible? He was panting, making noises that no person ought to be able to. His hand – they both seemed as surprised as each other. His hand was growing fur. Claws. It was the middle of the day and he was… changing.
He was wolfing out.
His face… his eyes were black, his face distorted and even in this she pitied him as much as she was terrified of him.
Maybe he felt the same about himself…
“Run,” he said, his vocal chords already distorted by the change. Whether the man was afraid of what he might do or the wolf wanted a chase – or vice versa – didn’t matter.
Released, told what she needed to do, Tara didn’t hesitate in the slightest. She just fled. It didn’t matter where, somewhere that was away was all that mattered. While she could – before he changed.
He didn’t start after her for a while, but she could hear the change even over the sound of her shoes clattering on hard, shiny floors as she ran. And when that noise was done, when she guessed that was done, she heard the howl at a moon that wasn’t even there…
And he was, then, after her.
Chasing her down, he could smell her. She realised that, understood what it meant. His senses would always be able to find her and she’d never be able to run fast enough. So… she had to be smart. She had to get away. To put some obstacle between them that the wolf couldn’t get past or through.
These floors were – initially – her saving grace as he ran at full pelt after her and where her boots clung to the linoleum and let her make the corner, his claws and pads didn’t given him the same purchase and he slid right on down the perpendicular corridor, snarled and then started back to the corner that she’d just gone around.
Her navigation was instinctive, but once she realised where it had taken her she did see… a chance.
A slim chance.
A chance to delay him, catch him behind a barrier that he couldn’t break or get around, that was the whole point after all. Her running wasn’t just to let him chase her down like a dog fetching a stick. Not to give him what he might easily have wanted…
But then what? Even if she managed to trap him somewhere – or keep him outside while she was inside? Well, someone would come and help… even if he stayed there. But they could get hurt, the animal didn’t care… Surely though, he’d change back eventually? Surely he’d be rational when he did.
Rational and naked, but she supposed that given the choice she could put up with that. Knowing he was naked meant being alive, a good thing in every other way.
She exited out of the loading dock at the back of the lecture theatre, jumping down to the street, but darting off into the bushes instead, catching her clothes on them and pushing on through, ignoring the damage to Willow’s favourite sweater.
He was right behind her, she was sure that one time he snapped it was only that she moved her hand out of the way that he didn’t have her in his jaws. Feeling the sticky wetness of warm spittle hitting her skin. Another change of direction, she was nearly there. Nearly there… This time he didn’t go sliding, four feet were better than two outdoors and maybe, maybe he was letting her give him a run?
Fine.
So long as his jaws weren’t around her throat or crushing her neck, she didn’t take the time to care why that was. She was just thankful for it and threw herself at a door that had always been open up to now… but didn’t move this time.
Oh Gods… No!
The werewolf that had – until recently – been Willow’s boyfriend came around the corner of the building and knew it had her. It slowed, wary of what she might do now that she was cornered and trapped. It was an animal, it’d behave like an animal and expect her to do the same. It’d dart in to finish her, but before that it would feint, snap at her if she kicked or punched out. Size her up.
Magic… magic… There had to be something she could do? But what? She couldn’t think – terror did that to her. Panic overcame the calm that she needed. The combination of the circumstances kept anything resembling control from her mind and… It was still a person, it was Willow’s boyfriend. She didn’t get to hurt him.
But – she had to. Magic might elude her but she could swing her bag and caught the werewolf on the snout, making Oz yelp and then snarl… threatening its retribution, lunging at her. Tara screamed, her butt pressed up against the door and trying to make herself as small as possible when…
The door finally gave way, opening behind her. She spilled inside, falling on her ass and never so grateful for doing that. Graceful? Natch. Alive? Yeah.
Alive was what counted. All that counted.
And she hadn’t turned him into anything…
From her position on her ass, she kicked at the door, the first time it closed was on Oz’s snout causing him to yelp and pull back. She kicked again and the door slammed shut, but there was no way that she could see to lock it so instead of trying, she ran again.
The darkness ahead of her was – at least – a familiar path, dimly lit by the thin window high above the floor. Then more light, streaming in as he got the door open and the sun chased her ahead of him. The the beat of paws tipped with terrible claws loping down the corridor after her, but she’d gained enough time hadn’t she? Surely it was enough. It had to be. She grabbed the handle of the wooden door, jerked it open and heard the evil screech of hinges that had gone far too long without proper maintenance.
Inside, in the main room, it was familiar and it was light.
“Hey there, seafood lover - Hey, what is it?” Faith asked from her cage when she realised this wasn’t just a normal visit. How panicked and afraid she was.
“T-trouble,” she panted.
Immediately the Slayer was on her feet, ready and primed for whatever was going to follow her into this, her prison. “What is it?”
She didn’t have the breath to answer and it wasn’t needed once Oz burst through the door, leaping straight off the top of the steps and knocking over the table and deckchairs that they’d been using, plates and everything else going flying.
He wheeled on her, ignoring the young woman in the cage that had once been his. He had focus in his rage, or maybe she was just the most accessible target. Werewolves were famously wild, but they were just as famously nocturnal and lunar in their nature so everything she thought she knew, kind of out of the window right now.
The sun was high in the sky... so it was her that had did this to him, or rather discovering the truth about her and Willow had.
“Open the cage!” Faith shouted.
Tara didn’t answer. What? Faith didn’t think that was what she wanted? She’d love to get it open and have a Slayer on her side. What else had she hoped for coming here? To find a nearby protector who could handle him. But she needed to get to the key and that was hung on the wall on the opposite side of the room. Beyond Oz.
The werewolf padded slowly into the centre of the room, sniffed the air and paid brief attention to Faith in the cage before dismissing the captive to turn back towards her. Walking forwards slowly towards her. Warier after she’d hit him and trapped his sensitive muzzle in the door, he seemed content to take his time now.
It wasn’t like he was racing daylight or anything, was it?
Tara looked around for something that she could do, but there really wasn’t anything. This had been an empty space, that was how Oz had taken it over for his retreat when he got all wolfy, to secure the beast. Since they’d caught Faith it’d been used as a jail cell. The only thing it had to be was secure and anonymous. Someone no one else needed to visit.
And her entire purpose in coming here had been for Faith to help her, not just to bear witness to her demise.
“Tara Maclay! You open this fucking cage! Right the hell now!” Faith demanded, as if blaming her for the fact she wasn’t out yet.
“I can’t get to the key!” She could see it, not far away at all. But right past the snarling creature that wanted to disembowel and eat her.
“Shit.” Faith started rattling the lock, using all her strength on the door but you had to figure that if it had withstood a werewolf eager to get out and rampage then it wasn’t going to fall to a young human, even if she was the Slayer. Now would be a great time to find out that Faith had been making use of her alone time to try and escape and just needed one, last bit of force to –
Oz wasn’t waiting. The werewolf leapt, flying towards her and Tara could do little other with so little warning than throw up her hands, only realising what would happen if she was bitten when it was too late.
She’d become one of these things…
Bright side, she’d be alive.
But he didn’t want to turn her, he wanted her dead. He was driven by a mating instinct that perhaps the animal didn’t understand the threat to, but the man certainly did and it was some strange hybrid of the two that was trying to kill her now.
The weight of the werewolf bore down on her, holding her down with its paws on her shoulders, snapping teeth above her face. His breath reminding her of his diet as a wolf and all she could do was to grab and push at the matted fur around his neck, trying to keep him from being able to bite her. Straining against her full strength though, the jaws moved inexorably to the point he could clamp down on her arm –
But before that a piercing whistle rang out through the room, echoed around the stonework. The werewolf’s head spun, his paws still holding her down, but the attention taken by Faith’s distraction and now she was banging something up and down the bars. It made the werewolf twitch, its ears alert, nose sniffing at the air and the eyes fixed on a new target.
“Hey, dog boy. You want to hump someone’s leg? Try mine.”
Oz growled, a rumbling sound that reverberated right through all the air spaces in her body. It might have been a warning, and then he was past that and leapt off her, bounding over to the cage in two easy springs, sticking his claw in through the bars, swiping at Faith who kicked out at the intruding limb, making him yelp and further holding his attention.
Chew toys fight back.
Taking advantage of the time she’d been offered, Tara got to her feet while Faith fended off the swiping paw, deftly dodging it even when Oz moved back and forth around the three exposed sides – and even the top - of the cage. Then the werewolf was crashing into it and the whole – cast iron – thing shook, but the paw was always in there, trying to get at her. To take her by surprise.
Meanwhile Tara went for the key. She moved slowly, not wanting to attract his attention again when Faith was taking such risks to hold it. It gave her the chance to watch how the Slayer was dealing with the werewolf’s efforts. While the creature was up on top of the cage, around the sides of it and trying to tip it on its side, Faith was just as active, at one point pinning herself into the upper corners, then jumping down when the werewolf shifted its attack.
While Faith looked like she could do this for hours without getting tagged, it was Tara’s firm intent that wouldn’t have to happen. Finally she got her hands on the keys, but they must’ve made some sort of noise because the werewolf whirled on her, investigating the new sound it had detected.
Maybe something understood that what she was doing was a threat, but it didn’t matter. Even as Tara tensed herself, ready for it to spring at her again, Faith’s arm looped out of the cage and jerked it back, then looped across its matted, slobber covered throat. The other hand was held up, demanding the keys from her.
Now was the time to find some accuracy. Tara had never been great at throwing, but this time everything seemed to go right and the keys arced towards the Slayer’s hand and… landed right in her palm.
How good was that under pressure?
Instantly Faith let the werewolf go and then it was torn between the person in the cage that had tormented it or its original target which had enraged it.
Faith needed a moment to unlock the cage door though so Tara shouted at it, just having trust that the Slayer would let herself out of the cage and come to her aid once she did. It was trust she found easy, not a foolish hope.
The growl of the werewolf pretty much didn’t need any translation. It wasn’t going to do anything but tear her throat out but…
Faith was out.
“Bad dog. No biscuit.” The werewolf was still whipping around as Faith’s foot smashed into the side of its head and caused it sprawl sideways, stunned by the impact.
“You okay, Tara?” Faith called while she circled it.
She could see that Faith was intending to work out some tensions and pent up energy on the creature who – she had to remember – was Oz.
Willow’s Oz.
“Y-yes – thank you – wait!”
Faith had already put the boot in though, once in the guts and once in the head, the yelp of the werewolf drowning out her request to Faith. “It’s Oz!” Tara said. “It’s Oz.”
Faith circled him again, looking down at him. “Yeah, I figured, T. I’m no big brain like your girlfriend, but I’ve got to admit this is unusual. Wolf boy usually only gets out at night. Found out about you and Red did he?” The Slayer was punctuating her words with more kicks.
She didn’t answer because… well, was the answer not obvious? And this wasn’t the time nor the circumstance to talk about it. Not in front of him. Now she had another worry. She’d gotten here alive, gotten Faith out of the cage and now she had to worry about what Faith was going to do to him.
Unfortunately she didn’t seem to have all that much influence since Faith’s blood was up, looking – and sounding – like she was starting to enjoy herself. A number of other blows landed as the werewolf tried to get to its feet again, but Faith didn’t let it up. She just beat it back down and then punished it for its temerity.
Except Faith had probably never thought about ‘temerity’ in her life.
From the Slayer’s point of view the creature just wasn’t allowed to start to pose a threat and every time that it tried to get up again, Faith put it down.
“Faith!” Tara said eventually, grabbing the Slayer’s shoulder only to have to whirl on her, eyes more alive than she’d seen them.
Wild eyes. Wilder than the werewolf actually.
“Faith. It’s a person. It’s Oz.”
“The dog boy never liked me,” Faith said, but stopped her torment – at least for a moment. “And you’ve got no reason to like him. Look what he tried to do, Tara. You drove him to get wolfy in the daytime. You’ve seriously pissed this boy off. You think he’ll just shake hands and walk off into the sunset when he turns back?”
The werewolf hadn’t given up, it did try to get up again and Faith put it right back down, but without some of the venom that had been lacing her actions to that point. Maybe she was getting through to her?
“It’s Oz!” Tara said again. What Faith was saying to her made sense only in the world where she didn’t care about Willow. She didn’t know that world, she didn’t want to be in it. For now… even if he’d come after her, wanted to rip her throat out and – gulp – but even given all that, it was still Oz and Willow still loved him.
She couldn’t let her saviour kill him, even if Faith had a way to actually do that.
Which she probably didn’t.
They hadn’t left her incarcerated with a silver dagger or anything. So unless those rings Faith had on were silver and good luck killing someone with a ring, right? Umm, well, perhaps Faith would be creative enough to find a way. Taking a chance probably wasn’t wise.
“You’re too sweet for your own good,” Faith said, giving the wolf one, last kick to the head.
This time he stayed down, not even managing a whimper. But he was still alive, still breathing. She could hear it, see it.
“Help m-me,” Tara said. “Help me get him into the cage.”
“Me help you?” Faith asked, slightly amused as Tara tried to lift the dead weight and drag him. She barely made him twitch. “Tell you what, T, how about you help me?”
Tara met the other girl’s eyes, they were alive as she’d already noted. Amused even by a life or death situation. One bite and – “He didn’t bite you did he?” she asked, looking the Slayer over. No sign of blood that was hers.
“Do I look stupid? You?”
“I don’t think so,” Tara said, checking herself. To be honest the adrenaline high and the bumps and bruises she’d picked up along the way were probably masking anything… Oh, what if he had bitten her?
“Be sure,” Faith said, straining as she hauled the deadweight of the creature towards the cage. “Or you’ll be sharing this place with him. And won’t that be fun for Red?”
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If I wanted a little pussy, I've got my own to play with.
Chance in *Chance*
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Hurry up and get there though!!!!
. Boo for every other bad thing that happened to MY Tara in this update 
.
!!!
