Re: THE HIGHGATE TUNNELS COMPLETED November 2nd 2013

[BeMyDeputy]

Dibs! Brb.

[fhiwda]

INTENSE!

Oh wow! I can't wait to find out what has become of Tara and what this whole thing is really about!

Please continue soon.

[Ariel]

Hi Vivienne!

Glad to have you back!

Like watch 'Sherlock' Giles at work and the commentary about him being a watcher in full flow is great; showing another side of him.

All in all a fascinating mystery - eager for more.

Ariel

[True_Love]

So glad to see this story updated. I really hope you follow through and post more. You really had me addicted then...nothing for so long. I was so sad to think that this would go unfinished. Please keep up the great work. I really love the mystery and suspense you have provided us with.

[BeMyDeputy]

Viv,
See, I have this problem. I don't really tend to read mysteries. I certainly don't know how to leave useful feedback for them. Like, is it useful for me to say "Jones is totally a bad guy*"? Or, "I'm still wondering if anything after Willow first fell asleep is actually happening, or if Willow is dreaming"? Or, "I wonder why no one suggested that Charley go get Willow and Tara clothes"? Or, "Oh, I get it, they're taking Tara to the bridge to open the way"? I mean, maybe those thoughts are useful. Maybe not. I have no idea.

I do like commenting on style, though. Solidly in my bailiwick.

What I particularly like about this chapter is how it establishes Willow's temperament. In that respect, I feel like this paragraph is the core of Chapter 11.

Food was the last thing on Willow’s mind. Her throat was tight, her stomach knotted. Fear, grief and anger threatened to overwhelm her second by second. Action was what she needed, and yet she knew they could not go charging off blindly without knowing where they were going or what they were doing. She recognised Giles’s mood. After Jones had told him the news, he’d recovered quickly. Gone was the peaceful academic whiling away the autumn in the countryside amongst his notes and journals. For all his tenderness toward her, here was an angry man. Here was a Watcher in full flow. The difference between them was that Giles’s anger was perfectly still. It was ice. Willow was just as able to transform her feelings into cold fury, but she was too afraid. In that state, she feared she would not have Giles’s control, and with her abilities, who knows what she might do? Right now, her best chance – Tara’s best chance – was to be led by Giles, however frustrating that might feel. Even so, food?

Throughout this story, you've done a beautiful job breadcrumbing us through they've grown and changed since the story diverged from canon. Here we see where Willow is relative to "Tough Love" (with regards to the whole "Tara in serious trouble" business). All the fear and grief and need for action is there, but she's able to stay put--even if it is just barely. Willow isn't burning down the English countryside. She can be rational for long enough to see Giles' cold anger. What I particularly like, though, is that she refrains from letting herself go to that place, from focusing her emotional turmoil through her temper and into that cold anger. And not because it shows she's self aware, but because it shows her as flawed. You could have written her with the restraint to use her anger, but you didn't. Not only is it more realistic, but I just plain like flawed characters better.

Oh, one quick thing--why hasn't Willow tried the Tinkerbell spell and/or the psychic-talky-bit to find Tara? I mean, I don't care if it's a hand-wavy explanation about distance or her lack of emotional control, but dammit, I like continuity.

Looking forward to Chapter 12!

Kate



*Not only is Jones a bad guy because he mysteriously appeared within the inner circle with everyone thinking he's a good guy (well, except for Tara, at first), but English butlers are unflappable. Yet, he was totally not unflappable in the face of lingerie. Therefore, by all standards of 'how stories work,' Jones ipso facto is a bad guy.

[Vivienne]

Hello and thanks to all of you who have been kind enough to return for some more ‘Highgate’.

fhiwda
Haha! Thank you! Wait no longer . . . .

Ariel
Thank you! It’s really good to be back! Thanks for your comments!

True_Love
I am so sorry about the huge gap. I understand how disappointing it can be to invest in a story, only to have it break off part-way through. Thank you so much for paying a return visit to ‘Highgate’. I really appreciate your comments. Chapter 12 will be at your disposal within the next ten minutes.

BeMyDeputy
Kate – I don’t mind at all what type of feedback you leave. Horses for courses, I reckon – and I like yours. I’m honestly grateful for any feedback after such a gap in posting.

I like what you say about Willow. Yes, it is a fine balance between restraint and action and, even though Willow has grown up a lot, that doesn’t mean she will ever be perfect. That’s not how life works, although people often think it is.

Just to clear one or two small matters up:

Willow is not asleep.

As Charley is in London, while Tara and Willow are (were) a few hundred miles away in Devon, it would have been impractical to send her out for clothes.

Serendipitous of you to mention the Tinkerbell spell/psychic connection thing. BUT you will have to wait until Chapters 13 & 14 to find out why.

As for Jones, your logic is most interesting. The question of Jones is complex indeed. DO read on

[Vivienne]

TITLE THE HIGHGATE TUNNELS
AUTHOR Vivienne
RATING PG-13 ....for the moment!
DISCLAIMER All BTVS characters and certain other aspects of this story belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, ME and associates.
SPOILERS Diverges from canon somewhere early in season six.
THANKS To Wayland (Clare) for her unstinting beta-ing.
FEEDBACK Feel free!

The Highgate Tunnels

Chapter 12

Deep in the basement of a derelict warehouse in Holloway, Spike got down on his hands and knees and began searching impatiently through the debris on the floor. Throwing your cell phone at the wall with inhuman force? Oh yes – bad idea. Spike gathered up a few useless pieces of plastic and metal and, tossing them aside, growled softly. He forced himself, with difficulty, to repeat the process until he found what he was looking for.

‘Aha! Hello, you little beauty,’ He picked up the sim card and ran his thumb over it. It seemed okay.

Faint noises drifted down from somewhere above him. Spike cocked his head, his preternatural hearing filtering the sound through concrete and steel. Standing up, he tucked the small rectangle in a pocket and smiled. He brushed the dust from his hands and knees, kicked the pile of phone fragments to the four corners of the room, and went upstairs.

‘You know what I like best about this time of year?’ Spike leaned against the empty door frame, shook a cigarette from his pack, put it between his lips and flicked his Zippo into life.

The flame revealed a handful of black-clothed young people with unnaturally pale faces. One or two of them sported false upper canines. Spike thought they looked rather sweet. One of them, a thin boy wearing black lipstick with a drop of blood painted on one side of his chin, stepped forward.

‘Yeah? What do you like?’ he said.

Spike snapped the Zippo shut and dropped it into the pocket of his leather coat. He took a long pull on his cigarette and exhaled slowly.

‘It gets dark early,’ he said.

‘So?’ said the youth, advancing a few steps. The others looked uncertainly at one another.

Spike took another drag, blowing the smoke directly at the boy.

‘It means I don’t have to wait for dinner.’

He flicked the burning stub across the room and straightened up.

Some minutes later, as his face settled back into its human form, Spike chose a cell phone from the half-dozen in front of him and threw the rest on top of the heap of corpses in the corner. He replaced the sim card with his own and, walking out into the rainy back streets of Holloway, he called Giles’s office.

The line was busy. This time he managed not to lose his temper. Instead, he put the phone in his pocket and stood for a moment in thought. Decision made, he crossed the street to where his car was parked. Spike patted the bonnet of the racing green Mini-Cooper with tinted windows and Union Jack bumper stickers.

‘Alright, old girl?’ he murmured.

Spike unlocked the door and got in. He lit another cigarette, started the engine and headed west toward Hampstead.

***

Willow picked up a perfectly white, crisp linen napkin from her tray and used it to wipe away the melted butter running down her chin. In spite of the appalling circumstances, now that she had eaten and they – she and Giles – had started to focus on making plans, she felt better. An hour ago, her world had collapsed, and Willow with it. Now, things were moving. Only a little, but movement brings change and keeps hope alive.

‘I see. Yes, yes, I see,’ Giles was on the phone. ‘What if we narrowed it down to a five-mile radius of . . . oh, you did that already? That many? Ah.’ Giles looked thoughtful.

Willow studied Giles’s face as she listened to one side of his conversation with Charley. It didn’t seem like he was getting good news. Her heart began to sink. No! No more of that, Willow told herself. She got up from the couch, picked up the poker and stabbed at the fire. Whatever happens now, she thought, however bad it gets, I will not fall apart. Whatever it takes, I will do. I promise you, Tara. Her mind was perfectly clear, clearer than it had been for days, even weeks. She felt centred, relaxed, and very, very determined. She replaced the poker, took a deep breath, and turned to face Giles.

‘Alright, yes,’ Giles was saying, ‘I need to discuss this with Willow. Are you alright to stay at the office for half-an-hour or so? Good. I’ll call you back.’ Giles put down the phone, sighed, and looked at Willow.

‘Well?’ said Willow.

***

The night air condensed Willow’s breath in long plumes as she put the bags into the trunk of the Citroen and, despite the warmth of her jacket, she shivered. Gently, she pressed down on the rear door until it closed with a soft click. She scuffed the gravel with her boot as she turned back to the house. The mica within it sparkled coldly as it settled back on the drive. Willow looked at the sky. The moon was almost full. She hurried back to the open front door. Willow didn’t bother to shut it behind her.

She waited for Giles in the yellow light of the hallway, one hand in her jacket, the other resting on the case of the old clock. Giles emerged from the study. He too was dressed in coat and scarf. A pair of leather driving gloves poked out of a pocket. He waved an envelope at Willow. It was addressed to Jones.

‘I’ll leave this in the kitchen for him,’ said Giles, ‘he can follow us to London by train in the morning – if he feels up to it, poor fellow.’

Willow looked concerned. ‘Shouldn’t we make sure he’s okay before we go?’ she said.

‘I’m loathe to risk it,’ said Giles, ‘If he wakes, he’ll insist on coming with us and I think he should rest.’

‘Can’t we at least peek in on him?’ said Willow, ‘I don’t like to leave him this way.’

Giles looked doubtful. Willow moved away from the clock towards Giles and looked up at him.

‘I’ll go,’ she said, ‘I’ll be really sneaky.’

Giles sighed. ‘Are the bags in the car?’ he said.

Willow nodded.

‘Go on then, but be quick. We need to get moving.’ Giles strode past her to the kitchen.

Willow ran lightly up the stairs. She reached the landing and walked softly past the room she’d shared with Tara, empty now. Tucked away down the end of the passage, past Giles’s room, was the little room Jones slept in. Carefully, Willow turned the doorknob, holding her breath as she put her head through the opening. It was too dark to see anything, so she risked pushing the door a little, allowing more light from the passage to spill into the room. Enough light to see his bed. Willow stood in the doorway for a long moment, disbelief on her face. Then, she felt for the switch on the wall, flicked it on and went in.

Jones was not in his bed. He was not in his room. The bed was neatly made, the room was clean and tidy, but there was no sign of Jones. No possessions, nothing personal at all. Willow looked in the closets and the chests. Their emptiness only confirmed what she knew. Jones had gone. A strange sensation began to creep over her. It made her feel a bit wobbly around the knees, so she sat down on the bed. She felt odd, disoriented even. She shook her head trying to clear it, but stopped when she realised it was only making her nauseous.

Shadows flitted across her vision, half-remembered voices echoed through her mind. Her hands and feet tingled as the shadows gained colour, coalescing into faces. Shivers ran through her body in waves. She sat quite still, concentrating furiously on slowing and deepening her breathing, quelling the churning in her stomach, allowing the voices that sounded like a badly-tuned radio station to clarify into recognisable speech uttered by people she knew.

A face swam into view. ‘Girls, girls,’ Giles’s voice, his face tender, the sound of a train rumbling past. When and where was this? Willow struggled to remember.

Giles again – ‘It’s only a casserole,’- with a self-deprecating smile. Yesterday, it was yesterday.

And then again, in an apron and oven mitts as he set the steaming dish on the table. Dinner. Last night the three of them had eaten together. Giles had cooked. How had she forgotten so completely?

Now it was Tara’s face she saw, Tara stacking dishes, her hair glinting in the candlelight. Tara pouring coffee, her face rosy in the firelight. Willow’s memories of the previous day returned in fits and starts as the spell she’d been under shattered like a mirror dropped on stony ground.

The vision in her mind’s eye darkened. Willow felt a sense of dread, and shivered again. Then, with a muted whoosh, the light returned, and another shadow turned to face her.

‘Good morning, Miss Willow,’ said Jones, smiling. Jones!

Willow bent forward until her head nested between her knees. Jones. The last remaining shards of the spell disintegrated around her. Jones, who wasn’t there the night before. Who had never been there at all until this morning.

She sat up, elbows on knees, face in hands, working through the implications of Jones’s sudden appearance and equally swift departure. The conclusion she reached seemed inescapable, but she did her utmost to reject it. No, no please, no! Then, even while she fought the growing horror of it, she remembered something. It was a tiny detail, so small that it had slipped her mind when she was relating the afternoon’s events to Giles. Two words, that was all. Just two words. But it was enough to remove the last little doubt. Willow knew she was right, and it was awful.

White-faced, she got up and left the room. Using the wall as a support, she made her unsteady way back to the staircase and sat down heavily on the top step. At the foot of the stairs, Giles was in a similar state of collapse. He stared up at Willow, his face ashen.

‘We have to get out of here now,’ he said, ‘They must be coming back for you – if they aren’t already here.’

Willow took a deep breath. Her mouth was dry, her throat ached. She looked at Giles with a terrible sadness.

‘No Giles,’ she said, ‘They have what they want.’

Giles looked at her uncomprehendingly.

‘Milady Tara,’ said Willow.

[fhiwda]

Dips?

Oh no! I don't understand... did they take Jones? Was he involved? I'm a little confused, but that might be because my brain is done for the day.

I can't wait to read more!

[willowtaralover]

YAY its good to see you back on the board Vivienne after such a long break. This feedback is from chapters 10 and 11because I didn't know you'd updated with twelve yesterday, and I feel so

Willow sat motionless in the chair. Outside, the wind was picking up and dark clouds gathered in the late afternoon sky. Inside, it was still. The house seemed to gather itself protectively around Willow, listening. The space around her expanded until the world consisted of Willow, the chair, and the hall. The walls breathed softly in and out, in and out. The ticking of the grandfather clock echoed around the wooden panelling.

Wow, this is an amazing piece of descriptive work here with Willow falling into a kind of lost daze after Tara's kidnapping.

The sound of rattling china signalled Jones’s entry. He put the tray on the coffee table with shaking hands. His face was chalk-white. Jones sat down and covered his face with his hands.

I do like that Tara's kidnapping has affected everyone, not just Willow or Giles but Jones too. It shows how her nature makes everyone like her, or is that just a trick to leaad our heroes down a blind alley? There remains the question though, who took Tara and to what end? Was it the apple lady Pippa Middleton or could Jones have actually had a hand in it.

We know that Spike is involved somewhere with the story but when is he going to reveal himself to the others and will they welcome him.

‘I found – well, trod on – an apple core near the garage door yesterday. I was putting the car away when you were in the, um, bath. I wondered where it came from,’ said Giles.

A question began forming in Willow’s mind. Something to do with Jones, wasn’t it? But it dissolved as another thought took precedence.

Could this mean that Pippa Middleton and Jones are working together, or are being controlled by someone or SOMETHING with an interest in the Tartaria Tablet?

I just had a thought, seeing as the story is set several years after, presumably, the end of season 7 does this mean that a new Watchers council was set up and that Willow and Tara are both Watchers?

[Ariel]

Vivienne,

Sharp, detailed mystery - LOVE IT!!!

And yes, I am going to go back and re-read those old posts and 'look' for Jones and compare the memories - liked the image of the spell shattering like a mirror, suggestion of illusion, misdirection and the bad luck . . .

Also enjoyed the layers of their characters, Willow making choices and holding herself together then the insight and, "milady Tara" love cliff-hanger creepiness!

You know the rest - keep writing!

Ariel
How I Met Your Mother

[willowtaralover]

At long last the return of Spike but what's he up to? is he there searching for theTartaria Tablet for his own personal reasons , or is helping Giles with his research?

So Jones never existed till that morning when he took Willow and Tara clothes shopping, but why kidnap Tara. Is Spike going to help and how was the spell cast without Willow, Tara or Giles, three experienced spell casters, not sense it?

The use of the word 'Milady' is unusual in that it's a quite old fashioned phrase. Could it be some group that has been around for a long time such as the Watchers Council, who have a record for treating people pretty badly, or the Knight's Templar. Yeah I know they're long shots but that doesn't mean I'm wrong.

Great story here please keep it up, and perhaps show us what's happening with Tara.

[Vivienne]

fhiwda

Hi and thank you! I hope chapter 13 clears up the confusion

willowtaralover

Hi! Thanks for all the feedback – and all the questions, I love it

I think Jones certainly existed before he showed up in Devon – but not as Giles’s butler. Whoever he is, he had the power to cast a spell to make our trio think he was the butler.

Milady is very old-fashioned, yes. Maybe a clue in there, hmm.

You aren’t necessarily wrong or right about anything, these are all good thoughts you’re having – but I don’t think I’m going to bring the Council into this story, I never did care for them too much.

I too, am glad to see the return of Spike. Yes, he will have a part to play, but not quite yet!

We do need to know something of what’s happened to Tara, but please be careful what you wish for. Next week, you might well find out . . . .

Ariel

Thank you so much!

I am glad you’re enjoying the (resumed!) Highgate. I do like the way you pick up some of my use of language – very flattering. I hope you like chapter 13 – here it is!

[Vivienne]

TITLE THE HIGHGATE TUNNELS
AUTHOR Vivienne
RATING PG-13 ....for the moment!
DISCLAIMER All BTVS characters and certain other aspects of this story belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, ME and associates.
SPOILERS Diverges from canon somewhere early in season six.
THANKS To Wayland (Clare) for her unstinting beta-ing.
FEEDBACK Feel free

The Highgate Tunnels

Chapter 13

“Oh milady Tara.” Those were Jones’s exact words. The last thing he said as the cafe in Exeter disappeared before his and Willow’s stunned gaze. The last words to be spoken before she collapsed and he carried her, unresisting, to the car. Willow had forgotten. Not because of the spell they’d all been under, but because of the terrible shock of Tara’s sudden abduction. And, try as she might, Willow could remember nothing of the drive back to Giles’s house. Milady Tara would be the last piece of missing memory to return to her, and the most telling. Giles had taken it badly. She recalled his shocked face as he sat at the foot of the stairs. Willow knew that he was blaming himself as much as she was.

‘When we’re within half-an-hour of the Hampstead flat, perhaps you would use my phone to text Charley?’ said Giles. ‘It won’t take her long to drive over from Earl’s Court at that hour.’

Giles’s face was still pale, but his voice was cool and decisive. Anger waited behind his clear and steady eyes, biding its time. His hands on the steering wheel of the Citroen were relaxed and composed, like the rest of his body. He drove the car towards London at maximum speed, with minimum effort.

Willow sat next to him. She leant against the passenger door, face pressed against the window. The weather had closed in again, but her unseeing gaze was oblivious to the wind and rain outside, her only emotion was gratitude for the cool of the glass against her cheek. She’d judged herself a fool, and an arrogant one, for shutting Tara out in the first place, for trying to make her stay in Sunnydale. This afternoon, she’d turned her back for seconds, and Tara had been spirited away with calculated precision. Willow, sucker-punched, had folded like a deck of cards. But she had got up again, stronger, determined – and crucially – in control. No longer afraid of her magical powers, but imbued with an icy clarity and a single purpose. To get her wife back.

And now? Now this.

‘Willow? Are you listening?’ Giles repeated his request.

‘Sorry – yeah, sure,’ said Willow, straightening up in her seat.

‘Good,’ said Giles, ‘Now I have your attention, perhaps you’ll explain to me exactly why you’re convinced it was Tara they wanted all along. Considering we’ve been operating on the assumption that you were the target, this is something of a U-turn to say the least.’

They had just reached the M5 motorway so, for the moment, Giles concentrated on inserting the Citroen into the correct eastbound lane. Willow took the opportunity to collect her thoughts. As she lined them up into a coherent argument, she wondered how much more guilt and remorse her battered heart could handle.

The engine settled into a comfortable hum as the car found its place in the early evening traffic. The wind and rain were easing off again and although thick clouds scudded overhead they no longer filled the sky. Willow took a deep breath.

‘Assumptions, Giles. That’s where we – no, that’s where I, screwed it up right from the start,’ She took another deep breath.

‘Back in Sunnydale I assumed Shorty McShort gave me the tablet because it was meant for me. I assumed - '

‘Wait,’ Giles interrupted, ‘If he was supposed to give the tablet to Tara, why did he give it to you?’

‘She was kinda busy ashing vamps at the time, remember?’ said Willow, ‘It’s not like she was just standing around
watching.’ Willow looked at Giles, but he showed no reaction, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of them.

‘So then I assumed the figure on the tablet was meant to be me,’ she went on.

‘Yes, female, slender, long hair,’ Giles mused.

‘But the really bad part was me thinking that I was the witch the last vamp talked about right before Tara staked him,’ said Willow, anger starting to creep into her voice, ‘I mean, we knew they wanted someone pretty powerful, but why did that have to be me?’ Her voice had begun to rise, but she could not stop it.

‘Tara’s more powerful than I am, always has been. Witchcraft is in her blood; her mother was a witch - and who knows how far back it goes in her family? How many generations? For Chrissake Giles, she taught me!’ Willow, overwhelmed with grief and shame, put her face in her hands. And I was going to leave her alone in Sunnydale!

‘Alright,’ Giles’s voice was gentle. She felt his hand grasp her shoulder briefly, reassuring her. Willow sighed and sat up, dropping her hands in her lap.

‘What about Jones – if that’s his real name, which I somehow doubt?’ said Giles, ‘Where does he fit in? I’m not so inclined as you to think he’s not with this ‘Apple Woman’. After all, that was quite some memory change spell he used on the three of us. Hardly the work of an amateur. Or a butler.’

‘Okay,’ said Willow, ‘I don’t know where he fits in, not yet. But wherever he fits, I think he’s a good guy.’ She closed her eyes in thought. ‘One, he didn’t want us to go shopping today. Remember how he argued against it?’

‘Yes,’ said Giles.

‘Two, he fretted around us like an old lady when we were there. He wouldn’t let us out of his sight until we made him go put the bags in the trunk right before we went into the sandwich place.’

‘Peppermint,’ said Giles.

‘Huh?’ said Willow.

‘In the glove compartment, if you wouldn’t mind,’ said Giles, ‘Peppermints. They help me to think.’

‘Oh, ok,’ Willow leaned forward, popped the catch and found a tin of mints. She opened it and passed one to Giles.

‘Thanks,’ he said, put it in his mouth and began sucking furiously.

‘A-and you didn’t see his face when he came back and then -’ Willow’s voice caught as she remembered the shock of Tara’s disappearance.

‘Have a mint,’ said Giles.

Willow looked at the tin. It was labelled ‘Curiously Strong Mints,’ in an old-fashioned cursive script.

‘They’re very good,’ said Giles, ‘Quite difficult to come by these days.’

Willow opened the tin, extracted one of the little white mints and looked at it with suspicion, but she put it in her mouth anyway. She sucked it experimentally. When nothing bad happened she carried on talking.

‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘Look at the mess Jones was in when we got back, we had to put him to bed.’

‘He got out of it pretty quickly,’ Giles pointed out.

‘I think he panicked,’ said Willow, ‘Giles, I’m sure he was sent to protect Tara, not to target her.’

‘But who sent him?’ said Giles.

‘I don’t know,’ said Willow. The peppermint fumes were permeating her head now. As they cooled and soothed her, she suddenly made another connection.

‘Giles, he was a lot like Shorty to look at. I mean, he wasn’t the same guy, but there was definitely a lot of sameness, if you know what I mean.’ Willow looked at him.

‘So,’ said Giles, ‘It seems we are looking at two distinct groups here. Who the hell are they and what do they want?’
Willow’s hand went to the invisible pouch around her neck. Giles glanced at her.

‘The sooner we get to London and at the rest of my research, the better,’ he said, grimly. ‘There has to be something in there, something we can follow up.’

Willow let go of the pouch and took another mint from the little tin. Charley’s report had not been good news. Yes, she had made a list of abandoned stations, both overground and underground ones. She had narrowed it down to the ones with tunnels. She had reduced it further to those within a five-mile radius of London’s City Centre. It was still a very long list. And they still had absolutely no way of knowing if London was even the right place to start.

Giles had suggested that they might find further clues to the location in the mass of Vinca research in his London flat. Material he had not needed for his work in Devon. So, they had decided to leave the house immediately. Even at the time, it had felt like grasping at straws, but it was all they could do.

The sky had cleared completely leaving the moon to sail on unimpeded. The lights from isolated farms and country houses winked at them as they made the slow climb through the Mendip Hills toward Bristol.

Willow made a decision.

‘When we get there I’m going to use a finding spell,’ said Willow. She spoke quietly, her voice was clear and assured. ‘I know how to find her mind, even if I don’t know where the rest of her is. If I can connect with her, she can show me where she is.’

Giles looked at her, ‘You’re sure you’re up for it?’ he said.

‘Sure I’m sure,’ said Willow, ‘Giles, we have to find Tara. I know there might be all kinds of info in your research, but following a trail of clues would take time. Too much time.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Giles, ‘Forgive my concern, it’s just that I know you haven’t done anything stronger than simple charms and remedies for – well - some time.’

‘I can do it Giles, I know I can,’ Willow wriggled in her seat, ‘Besides, I’m so sick of casting stupid glamours, a-and charms to ward off evil and all that boring stuff. It was okay for a while, but I think it was starting to turn my brain into mush. If I’d only been half-awake then maybe . . . .’

Giles glanced at her face, which was beginning to fall.

‘But the healing? You’ve done some useful work there, have you not?’

Willow brightened, ‘Oh sure, I don’t mind that kind of thing. We’re really good at it now, you know. I mean really good. Either of us can zap a migraine in no time, and, and you know, Sunnydale might be the only place in the world with totally no recorded cases of teenage acne.’ Willow looked pleased with herself.

‘Remarkable,’ said Giles, as they swung around the Bristol bypass and headed east on the M4.

‘But I don’t care if I never see another wart,’ said Willow, ‘You wouldn’t believe the places people have warts. There was this one guy . . . .’

‘Alright, yes. Thank you Willow,’ said Giles

Willow grinned.

‘So,’ said Giles, ‘You’re really going to do it?’

‘Yes, Giles,’ said Willow.

‘Right,’ he gave her a pleased smile, ‘Good.’

Willow gave him a peppermint and settled back in her seat. They drove on in silence.

[fhiwda]

DIBS!

I am eager to find out where Tara is! I like the thought of Jones being some kind of guardian.

Please continue soon, Doll.

[willowtaralover]

So which people are after what? Who took Tara and why? Where does Jones fit in? When will Willow and Giles learn that Spike is involved in some way? And where the frilly heck is Tara?

Questions questions and more questions, but hopefully Willow will be able to talk to Tara with the aid of a spell so she can rescue her wife.

They seem to be doing a lot of medical type work, or it sounds that way at least. Are they working in a clinic or hospital?

[BeMyDeputy]

Viv,
Given I know who you’re having have already had over for lunch, I’ve managed to drag myself away from Diablo 3 so I can write you your well-deserved feedback. Really, I ought to write your feedback on Wednesday evenings (well, my Wednesday evenings), as the majority of the time I spend part of Wednesday afternoons talking about the chapter anyway. But alas, I am lazy. Plus which, it's time to make dinner by the time I get off the line, and by the time I'm done I'm thinking of other things entirely. Which doesn't mean I'm not lazy, I know. It's a reason, not an excuse.

RE: previous feedback
While I have recently become somewhat familiar--for a Yank--with the geographical relationship between Devon and London (for some damn reason ^_-), and know that it’s a several hour drive . . . well, I didn’t remember to account for the fact that the British Museum is in London, and therefore so is Charley. (On a related note, when this story began, I actually pulled up a map of the train Willow and Tara took, taking in the relative locations of the cities. Not because I had to—your description explained what it needed to. I just wanted to see. Also because so many locations had other meanings to me: "Penzance" will be forever be in my mind as primarily meaning "Pirates of," "Plymouth" had, until this past year, always referred to the colonial version, and because of Paddington bear.)

However, I still wouldn’t have gone out shopping for clothes, even if I only had the one set with me. If I was flying to another continent for the purpose of getting myself and some mysterious tablet-thing away from my loved ones here in California, there’s no way you’d catch me taking a subsequent drive into Exeter to go clothes shopping. I mean seriously, the default shipping time for Amazon is two days over there! (Of course, when I suggested this to your darling beta, there was scoffing. And eyebrow-age. Apparently, the idea of ordering clothes online is somehow uncouth.) Maybe it makes me a crappy girl, but I would have ordered online while sending Jones into town to buy some flannel pajamas or something so the girls had something to wear while the clothes shipped.

Of course, if the Scoobies ever did anything practical or security-minded, most of the show wouldn’t have happened. I guess I’m just being me.

I had wondered about Willow being asleep due to the grandfather clock, but the whole powerful illusion thing also fits nicely. Still, though, I’m wondering if you’ll do anything with it (like, there being an exterior force involved), or just leave it as a sort of itch in Willow’s brain cluing her in that this isn’t really happening. Now, it was Willow from the beginning who noticed the sound of the clock when they first arrived, but it was Tara who didn’t fall for the illusion right away. That doesn’t actually make me lean one way or the other on any awesome magical clock properties; I did notice it, though.

My logic underlying the “Jones is a bad guy” is, in fact, completely flawless. (The bit about butlers I had decided when I first read the chapter, and only much more recently saw Downton Abbey. What can I say; Jeeves sets a fucking high bar.) That Willow now thinks he’s a good guy simply bolsters my position. It makes her into a willing tool for the bad guys, landing them in extra hot water until she finally figures out that she was wrong. Sure, he’s from a different team of bad guys than the one Pippa’s on, but that doesn’t make him a good guy. If he was a good guy, he wouldn’t have needed the fancy mojo! He could have talked. With words.

Of course, that’s probably not actually going to happen, given a) my sense that the story won’t be long enough for that to work well and b) the fact that this is not, in fact, a JRPG.

From the Grand List of Console Role Playing Game Cliché’s:

#168 Way To Go, Serge: It will eventually turn out that, for a minimum of the first sixty percent of the game, you were actually being manipulated by the forces of evil into doing their sinister bidding for them. In extreme cases this may go as high as 90%. The clear implication is that it would have been better to not get involved in the first place.

Oh, and if that spoiled “Chrono Cross” for you, let me save you the trouble of getting worked up: the only thing you’re missing is the music. Get the soundtrack, then just curl up with Chrono Trigger and play that again, instead. Not at the same time, though; then you’d miss the Chrono Trigger music.

And now, nearly 700 words into my response, let me address your new (to my feedback) content.

Chapter 12
I love the scene with Spike. It does this (possibly) important job of communicating where Spike is regarding that whole ‘chip’ thing, as well as the morality of eating people, as well as reminding us where he physically is. But it’s a superb example of showing and not telling; rather, just letting Spike be Spike on camera for a moment.

I did have to laugh, though, when I read the scene. You see, most people on this side of the pond don’t use SIM cards, and in fact don't know what they are. I have friends (American ones, in fact) who have lauded the superiority of SIM cards to me, so I knew what they were. The cell companies here are not keen on the idea. (Us plebs have to either transfer contacts by hand or pay our carriers to transfer the information. Or with a smartphone, load them from the cloud with Google contacts or something.)

I also really love the scene with the spell dissolving. Willow saying she’ll be “really sneaky” is just so adorable and totally in character for her. Then the overlapping of memories was really nicely done: it came off very smooth and very easy to understand. I know I really struggled with how to present on the page two different but interleaving trains of thought in one person’s head. But it isn’t until I sit here to write this that I think ‘oh, that may not have been a total breeze to write, even though it totally looks it.' I mean, maybe it was for you, in which case I am very jealous and need your help for Stained Glass.

And then the sucker punch at the end; very well done. I’m glad you stood your ground against our Clare and opted against the italics; I think that would have gilded the lily.

Speaking of, she fucking told me there was a clue. That it was in the last few lines of chapter nine, even. And since I’m really big into word choice, I feel like should have seen it. And I’d even been staring at chapter six, thinking that the similarities between the words “Tartaria” and “Tara” was unlikely coincidence, meaning I’d been staring straight at the word “milady.” Did I catch it? No.

In my defense, I reread “Waiting for Dani” like Clare rereads “Neverland,” so the word “Lady” going in front of the word “Tara,” even if “lady” is part of another word . . . just doesn’t capture my attention the same way as it might otherwise.

So I blame Deb for me not seeing it.


Chapter 13
I’m very glad for this scene with Giles and Willow, and it’s also very well done. The description of Giles effortlessly driving the car, his body relaxed was great; it just lines up so perfectly with what we saw onscreen of Giles being angry. For me, it instantly called up Giles in “The Dark Age” and in “Tough Love,” and feels like a snake just waiting to strike.

I really needed this explanation for why Willow thought that she was the one being targeted. I’d been meaning to ask you earlier, but it slipped out of my mind before I put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, or what have you). Her thought process is completely in character, but since you hadn’t shown it, I didn’t really grasp it. My original thoughts were just that the bad guys needed any witch for the bit with the bridge, but since Willow wanted to leave Tara behind, it was clear that she didn’t believe that. And Giles and Tara clearly believed Willow’s conclusions, which again, is totally in character. But since you hadn’t convinced me as a reader that Willow was the target, the turn to “hey they were after Tara the whole time!” didn’t feel like a turn.

On the other hand, Willow reminding us Tara’s a hereditary witch, presumably foreshadowing Tara being the direct descendent of Milady Tartaria, which is why Tara is specifically required for hot witch-on-bridge action . . . I hadn’t thought of that possibility yet. But now I think it’s what you’re doing. Very subtle, though—it took me a few read-throughs to see.

I enjoyed Willow pulling herself to the decision to use magic as a tool. It reminded me of a few moments from the apocryphal content. Only here she has Giles there doing that fatherly thing, which makes it a warmer moment.

Another random America fact: I would bet good money--very good money, given Willow’s a nerd (at least, her roots are infested with nerd-dom)--that Willow would know the slogan “curiously strong mints” and instantly think of Altoids, which are quite ubiquitous here (and are now apparently made in Tennessee instead of Britain, like they should be). Oh, and if Giles walked into a grocery store or gas station, oh, say, ever, during his time in the US, he would have seen them by the checkouts. If I had been thinking, I would have asked if you could get them/wanted some, as my sister is currently in London on holiday with her in-laws. But she’s already there and sending us Facebook pictures of Big Ben. (I’m very jealous, though more of the ‘train ride/driveable distance to Devon’ part than the ‘Big Ben’ part.)

I am very much looking forward to Chapter 14. I am so very glad that you have the capacity to update, even if I don’t. ^_^

Cheers,
Kate

P.S. Also, Diablo 3. If you’re playing, let me know, and I’ll send you my battletag.

[wayland]

I think we can agree that mints manufactured in Tennessee would not meet Giles' standards.

I can almost see his expression of wounded disdain . . .

[Vivienne]

fhiwda

Continuing now! And it’s all about Tara . . . thanks for reading x

willowtaralover

Thanks for your response x

Yes, as one question is answered it usually raises three more – or more.

Ever since Willow scared herself (and everyone else) so badly through her actions as Willow-the-dark-and uberpowerful, she has stayed in Sunnydale with Tara, running the Magic Box and practising gentle magic, largely of the healing kind. Not for much longer, one feels . . . .

BeMyDeputy

Hi Kate!
Awesome feedback – thank you x

Having sat through – mostly on the edge of my seat – seven seasons of Willow’s taste in clothes, I can never resist interfering with that Bad Wardrobe. Considering what I saw her throw (with total lack of discrimination) into her holdall before she left Sunnydale, I figured I’d best not waste any time doing something about it.

Amazon? Amazon – please! Anyway, two days would have been too long to wait, given they didn’t know how long they would be at Giles’s, and that they’d forgotten to pack any socks. Also, I could not entrust Jones to buy their clothes – even flannel PJ’s. Chances are he’d have come back with something even Willow would balk at. And didn’t you enjoy their shopping trip, just a teensy bit? You know you did. Except for the last bit, obviously.

Right, the grandfather clock. We are not done with the clock. Not yet. Ok?

Your logic is good. Actually, your logic is very good. But not flawless. There are variables you have overlooked. More than that I cannot say. Jones remains unexplained, for now.

That is a particularly well-worn game cliché, but no less lovable for that. FF12 used it, as I recall. Most of them have, I think.

Chapter 12

I had no idea about the SIM card thing! Ah well. What can I say about Spike? He’s just . . . Spike. Love him.

No, the writing of the break-up of the memory spell was not easy, not at all. I think it took three or four attempts and a lot of swearing.

SO glad you agree with me about the no italics (ahem), naming no names . . . .

Yep, big clue, right there, in black and white. Milady Tara, hidden in plain sight, I guess.

Chapter 13

I always loved ‘angry’ Giles. The examples you cite are good ones. That cold, focused control . . . mmm. It always has an impact because it’s such a contrast from his normal persona of ‘diffident Englishman’.

Yes, a combination of circumstance, ego, assumption and protectiveness led Willow to believe she was the target. And both Tara and Giles accepted this.

Willow’s decision to use ‘real’ magic (as opposed to everyday magic) clearly wasn’t an easy one, given her history. I’m as relieved as Giles that she has.

With reference to Curiously Strong Mints: please see Wayland’s comment below.

I hope your sister enjoys London. Perhaps she might visit Highgate Cemetery and send you some pictures? Not after dusk, though.

I went months totally incapable of updating, and feeling very badly about it. Kate – it passes.

Awesome!
Viv

wayland

Quite.

[Vivienne]

TITLE THE HIGHGATE TUNNELS
AUTHOR Vivienne
RATING PG-13 ....for the moment!
DISCLAIMER All BTVS characters and certain other aspects of this story belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, ME and associates.
SPOILERS Diverges from canon somewhere early in season six.
THANKS To Wayland (Clare) for her unstinting beta-ing.
FEEDBACK Feel free!

The Highgate Tunnels

Chapter 14

Tara opened her eyes. Light rippled gently above her, as on the surface of a shallow lake. That can’t be right, she thought dreamily, how can water be above me? She sighed and turned her head. At least, her brain gave her head the instruction to move, but nothing happened. I must be so tired, she thought. She rolled her eyes to one side. A candle flickered in a draught, its wick in need of trimming. It was too weak to illuminate its surroundings, but it explained the ripples on the ceiling.

The steady drip, drip of water from somewhere on the other side of her caught Tara’s attention. She rolled her eyes that way, but could see nothing through the darkness. Other sounds intruded, voices murmuring a way off – where? She strained to hear what they were saying and then gave up. It didn’t seem important somehow. Her eyes began to itch. Automatically, she raised her hands to rub them. When they failed to respond she woke up. When Tara found she could neither sit up nor move her legs, she was really alarmed. Apart from the muscles in her face and the ability to breathe, she was immobile. Where am I?

Quickly, Tara took stock of her situation. She seemed to be lying on a reasonably soft bed or couch of some sort. Physically, she was comfortable. The air smelled mossy and damp, though it was neither warm nor cold in the room, if room it was. The candle’s glow revealed no details, gave her no sense of the dimensions of where she was being held. Held!

Willow! Where is Willow? She must be here somewhere, Tara thought, maybe in another room. Tara panicked. She didn’t know where Willow was. She couldn’t move a muscle to go and look for her. Tara opened her mouth to call Willow’s name, but no sound came out.

Memories came flooding back to her. Exeter, shopping, the cafe – the cafe! Creepy Apple Woman in the line ahead of them and Willow’s dash to the rest room. And then – and then nothing. No wait, Tara concentrated, there had been something. A sharp pain in her right arm. The prick of a needle? Yes, taken by complete surprise, she had been injected with something that had knocked her clean out. Her arm was still sore. Whoever had done it had come up behind her, Tara reasoned, so Pippa could not have been acting alone. They must have grabbed Willow either in the rest room or as she came out. Did they drug her, too? Have they found the Tartaria tablet?

Then she and Willow must have been bundled very quickly into a car before Jones returned. She inhaled sharply. Jones!

Tara remembered how confused she was at the sight of Jones serving them breakfast in bed that morning. How his presence didn’t make any sense. And then how, suddenly, it was alright. As the spell took hold, her disquiet had faded into the background, leaving her feeling peaceful and at ease. Now, as the spell dissolved, Tara remembered everything in startling detail. The train ride from London, Giles meeting them at Exeter. She re-lived Willow’s snippiness in the car park and how they made up – mostly in the bath. Tara smiled at the memory. She saw Willow digging enthusiastically into a plate of venison casserole, blissfully unaware that she was eating deer meat. And after dinner, Giles identifying the mysterious tablet Willow wore, invisibly, around her neck. When Tara remembered half-walking, half-carrying the jet-lagged Willow to bed, a tear formed in the corner of her eye. A tear she could not wipe away. She sniffed hard, and forced herself to concentrate.

So Jones had not appeared until that morning – was it really the same morning? It seemed to Tara like it was days ago. She recalled Jones’s face with its high cheekbones, brown eyes and the widest, kindest smile. Another memory jostled for position. Tara groped for it, but it was gone again. She sighed and tried to wriggle her toes inside her new boots, but nothing happened. At least my feet are warm, she thought.

She remembered the graceful way Jones moved, how all his gestures were like him – small and unobtrusive. He seemed like such a nice guy, Tara thought, like – like the man in Sunnydale, that was it! The one who gave Willow the tablet! They were so alike, they could almost be brothers.

It doesn’t figure, thought Tara. Shorty in Sunnydale was asking for help. He took a big risk to get the tablet to Willow and give her that message. Those vamps trying to stop him meant business. But it was Jones who took us to that street in Exeter, the one with the cafe. He must have known it was there. So he must have been part of it, surely? He has to be working with Pippa.

The murmuring voices drew closer, but just as they began to resolve into intelligible speech, they stopped. The scent of apples drifted in. A light, much brighter than the candle, bobbed and swung nearer to Tara. The shadows it threw expanded and shrank, confusing Tara as she tried desperately to see her surroundings.

‘Ah, you are awake,’ said Pippa, putting down the oil lamp she carried on what Tara saw now was a small table.

Although Pippa had exchanged her immaculate silk skirt and wool jacket for an old ski coat over jeans and a sweater, she still looked unnaturally neat. Her perfect make-up was fresh and the lacquer on her manicured nails gleamed in the light.

Now Tara could see that the wall was curved, and was composed of old, dirty brick. It arched up to the ceiling and presumably continued down the other side of the room, which remained too dark for Tara to see.

Pippa moved towards her. She bent over Tara, a little smile playing over her lips. The smell of apples was so strong, Tara thought she would suffocate. She opened her mouth. The muscles in her neck strained as she tried to speak. What have you done with Willow? she wanted to say, why are you doing this? What do you want with us?

‘No, we can’t have you talking,’ said Pippa, ‘or moving. In fact, I’m afraid you’ll just have to go back to sleep now. After all, we can’t let you do anything . . . magical, can we?’

Pippa raised one hand. It was holding a syringe. Tara tried to shrink back as Pippa leaned closer, her pretty face frowning slightly in concentration, her polished brown hair shining. She laid the syringe on the couch, close to Tara’s head. She picked up Tara’s right arm and rolled up the sleeve of her jacket. Tara felt beads of sweat broke out on her forehead as she tried desperately to move.

Pippa picked up the syringe and emptied it deep into a vein on the underside of Tara’s forearm. She withdrew it, leaving a single drop of red blood. Tara gazed at it, fascinated by the contrast between it and the blue of her vein against translucent white skin. Pippa turned away for a moment. There was a sharp smell of antiseptic, and she was back, gently swabbing away the blood. She pulled down Tara’s sleeve and dropped her arm. She stood back from Tara with a satisfied look on her face.

‘Don’t go away,’ she said, and then she picked up the lamp and left.

Numbness seeped through Tara’s body. No, no! She fought to stay conscious, but sensed the world slipping away from her down a long, dark tunnel. As Tara’s eyes were on the point of closing she felt a small, hard lump under the fingers of her right hand. She realised that Pippa had replaced her arm in a position that was slightly different from its previous one. Her arm now lay on top of her thigh. It was bent at the elbow, so that her hand rested on the pocket of her jeans. I know what that is, she thought, feeling a surge of happiness, acorn, it’s my acorn! Carried on a wave of love, Tara’s mind and heart lifted out of her body. From somewhere, she could hear the faint ticking of a clock.

[fhiwda]

Dibs!

I love the way you express feelings and actions. Your writing is very well done!

I'm very interested in finding where this story is leading.

Please update again soon.

[Ariel]

Hey Vivienne,

I love your writing of Willow and Tara's characters - layered with memories, emotions, evolving understanding. Your characters are complex and vividly alive. Rupert, too. I feel like I'm getting to know him better and love it!

Tara's awakening . . . Pippa the Apple-eating Evil-head! And Jones . . . the mystery deepens.

Thank you for making me think and making me love it!

Ariel
How I Met Your Mother

[Finey_McFine]

Hi Viv!

Have I told you how happy I am that you're back with this story? Well, I am! Sorry for the lack of feedback, but I have been reading.

So, we finally get a small glimpse of what is going on with Tara. It was amazing how when she came around, the spell washed away and she was able to piece little bits together. Too bad she can't cast with her mind just a little or try to connect with Willow. I loved the detail of the room she's being held in. I really felt as if I was there with Tara.

This Pippa wench is getting on my last nerve! I can't wait until Willow gets a hold of her.

I'm dying to know who is really behind all of this and the Jones mystery is really something...great job with that one!

Looking forward to more:)

[Wills redemption]

I think I haven't commented on this story so far, which is a shame, so let me say now that I absolutely love it. I'm glad that we finally learned what became of Tara. So she is this all powerful witch, but a shot of some misterious drug turns her into a paralysed, mute and totally helpless victim. That is so unfair! Hopefully Willow will be able to connect with her mind even while she is unconscious so Tara can at least be relieved that Willow is alive, healthy, free and looking for her. I'm curious which role the acorn(s) will play here.

When we didn't hear about Tara in all the updates after she vanished I had been wondering actually if she had been really kidnapped or if Pippa and Co. had played some mind trick on her which made her leave with them. Now the questions are: what do Pippa and her lackies want with Tara, what good can she be for them unconscious, mute and parallysed? Is Pippa human or some giant apple demon in disguise? Why did they just leave Willow behind unharmed? Even if they didn't need her for their evil plan, would they not have been on the safer side by killing her? I'm of course glad they didn't, but I'm wondering... If they thought that Willow would not be able to follow them and interfere with their evil shemes, they're in for a surprise (I hope)!

I'm astonished that noone before commented on the revelation that your Spike obviously has neither chip nor soul, but seems to be extremely gluttonous (draining SIX teenies in ten minutes! On the show I had the impression that one or maximum two humans were enough for a vampire per night.)! So even if he intends to help Giles and Willow they should be careful with this allegiance!

And then in the very last sentence of this chapter we have the clock ticking again... Makes me wonder if the big bad of this story will turn out to be Giles' grandfather clock which got sick of just ticking away the time day to day and now strives for world domination...

Please update soon!

[willowtaralover]

Tara remembered how confused she was at the sight of Jones serving them breakfast in bed that morning. How his presence didn’t make any sense.

So Jones had actually triggered off some warning in Tara meaning his masking spell wasn't entirely foolproof. Not that Willow and Giles are fools of course.

The fact that Tara can remember so much, or parts of it at least means she could prove to be a danger to her captors if she and Willow can get a telepathic communication going.

I'm guessing that Tara is being held underground, most likely at the old underground stations so the baddies can keep an eye on her while they search for the magic macguffin.

‘No, we can’t have you talking,’ said Pippa, ‘or moving. In fact, I’m afraid you’ll just have to go back to sleep now. After all, we can’t let you do anything . . . magical, can we?’

Now we know that Creepy Apple Lady is a bad guy but is she a demon in human form or working for demons or herself? I'm guessing that while she knows about magic and knows Willow and Tara are witches she can't cast spells herself otherwise she wouldn't need to inject Tara with a sleeping drug. If I didn't know better I would say she was another Gwendolyn Post, but I do so I won't.

[BeMyDeputy]

Viv,
I should write you proper feedback, but in the meantime:

1) I like that Willow and Tara now have differing opinions on the "good-guy"-ness of Jones

2) The guy who handed over the tablet--I need to reread to see what they know for certain, if he was really fighting the other guys. It sounds like it was quick; could have been something else. But again, need to go look.

3) I'm wondering what Jones and Pippa are. We've seen them out in the day--well, Jones certainly--so run-of-the-mill vampire is off the table. We've got this really old Transylvania connection, so I think variations on the vampire theme that we don't normally see in Buffy are possible, like Dhampirs or something. That story root gives you the chance to pull on other ideas in vampire lore without feeling contrived (Dracula, for example, was clearly a different kind of vampire on the show). But between how Jones opened the door ahead of them (before sexy tree time) and then here, with Tara remembering Jones' smile, then something else she can't remember, plus the fact that Pippa, at least, is certainly working with vampires . . . I'm not thinking these two are human.

4) Speaking of vampires, Spike. So, he eats these guys for dinner, but we're still getting 'good guy' vibes from him. I mean, we assume he's off to help the gang--plus you said you love Spike, so I doubt you're gonna make him a bad guy. Anyway, his victims made me think of the hapless victims in "Lie to Me." I'm guessing that they were in league with at least one of the groups of vampires connected with the tablets.

5) You have no idea how happy I am that I decided to mention the clock in my previous feedback (I almost didn't). Because bam, here you revisited it, and now I look smart, instead of having to say "man, I was totally thinking that!"

Cheers,
Kate

PS I don't understand clothes beyond "t-shirt and jeans/cargo pants, so I'm afraid I personally still would have ordered off Amazon (and paid for 1 day shipping), and sent Jones into town for socks and comfy pajamas. (Or borrowed Giles' socks. I mean, they're just socks.) But yes, I can respect your decision to interfere with their wardrobe.

PPS Also, as I told Clare, when Giles still lived in the US, Altoids still had "Made in Great Britain" stamped proudly on the tin. It was only more recently that they abandoned the mother country for the colonies.

[Vivienne]

fhiwda

Hi fhiwda! I’m so happy you like the story. I have been a bit prone to gaps lately, but rest assured, this story is being written all the way!

Ariel

Hi Ariel – thank you so much for your kind words. I’m glad you like my take on Giles. I can tell you that the emotional pace is not likely to slacken any time soon

Finey_McFine

Hello Finey! Thank you so much for reading, and for your feedback. Ah yes, if only she could connect with Willow As for Pippa – well, she just doesn’t know what she’s taken on, does she?

Wills redemption

Thank you for commenting on the story. It’s good to know you’ve been reading and enjoying.
I think you are right – Pippa and her pals are SO in for a surprise. Not that it will be easy for our friends. They don’t even know where Tara is, let alone what the bads have planned for her.
Spike clearly has no chip in this story, although I think his soul is a moveable feast – if you’ll forgive the pun. I think it likely he only drained two teens and killed the rest because that was the mood he was in. It gave him more cell phones to choose from, anyway.
You’d like some more clock? Okay . . . .

willowtaralover

Hiya, thanks for the comments. You make some interesting observations. Pippa really is creepy, isn’t she? She could well be a spell-casting witch, just not a very powerful one. Maybe she knows she’d be the loser, hence much easier for her to drug Tara.
And the MacGuffin, yes. Hmm.

BeMyDeputy

Hiya! Wow, thanks for the comments! Yes, I think the true nature of Jones (and his ilk) will prove interesting – well, I hope so. Pippa too, I’m thinking, might provide us with one or two surprises.
Spike is, um, Spike. Capricious, but loyal to his Scooby friends. And all vampire – in a Spike way.
So happy to have made you look smart. Now you’re going to look even smarter
I love interfering with the bad wardrobe. It gives me endless, harmless pleasure.
We no longer recognise the traitorous Altoids. Hmph.

[Vivienne]

TITLE THE HIGHGATE TUNNELS
AUTHOR Vivienne
RATING PG-13 ....for the moment!
DISCLAIMER All BTVS characters and certain other aspects of this story belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, ME and associates.
SPOILERS Diverges from canon somewhere early in season six.
THANKS To Wayland (Clare) for her unstinting beta-ing.
FEEDBACK Feel free!

The Highgate Tunnels

Chapter 15

The last tiny shard of peppermint dissolved on Willow’s tongue. She gave a little sigh, and settled back even deeper into the comfort of the Citroen’s leather upholstery. Although tired, Willow felt relaxed, almost happy. That’s crazy, she thought. Given the seriousness of the situation, how could she be feeling so – so good? But there was no denying the sense of well-being that flowed through her as she stretched out her arms and wiggled her fingers.

‘Okay?’ said Giles, giving her a brief look.

‘Mmm-hmm,’ said Willow.

Giles drove on, keeping the car just below the speed limit, eating up the miles between them and Tara.
Willow knew she couldn’t be sure that Tara was in London, but she had a strong sense that they were getting closer to her. Maybe that was the source of her well-being. That, and the realisation that she was no longer afraid of herself. Of her shadow. Her dark shadow. For the first time in her life, Willow was in charge of her whole self. And she would find Tara.

The countryside through the car windscreen lay bathed in moonlight. More light came from the dipped headlamps of oncoming traffic and from service stations they passed. Road signs flicked past, their bold lettering instructing when to slow down, or where to turn off for this place or that. How many miles to London town? One caught Willow’s attention. “Royal Wootton Bassett, next exit, 400 yards.” She smiled. English place names still amused her. That one sounds like a big old hairy dog, she thought.

She yawned, turning to look through the passenger window. In the distance, columns of sandstone and dolerite stood in a circle, rising majestically from an open field. As they drew nearer, the moon - now low in the night sky - hung close to the huge lintels. It cast long, silent shadows on the grass, still wet from the days rainfall.

Willow could see an empty spider web, its owner nowhere in sight, but the raindrops had made it seem as though another, other-worldly spider lived there with a crystal body and twinkle-light legs. She watched, fascinated, as it shimmered in a moonbeam. She smiled again, this time at the beauty of it all, as the great Henge loomed over her.

‘Look, Giles. Stonehenge,’ she murmured, her eyes glazed.

Giles gave her a sharp glance.

***

In an ancient place, at the bottom of what was now a garden, stood an old oak tree. It basked in the moonlight, remembering. It remembered yesterday and the day before. It remembered last year and long ago. It remembered a time before this.

Now it was remembering the day just passed. A mellow, golden day. Two women. Women of power. Women who had shared their love under its branches and whose laughter still whispered through its leaves and warmed its very bones.
Up at the house, the clock in the hall chimed the hour. A child of the tree, its case had been painstakingly fashioned from a branch felled by lightning in a storm. A storm that had raged over two hundred years before.

The chimes echoed down the lawn. The tree listened to them carefully. Then, slowly and in its own way, the old parent answered.

***

Willow felt uncomfortable. Something was digging into her thigh. She took off her seat belt and stood up. Ooh, that’s better, she thought, as she pulled the little object out of her jeans pocket. She held it up to see what it was. My acorn! Willow felt unaccountably pleased. So pleased that she opened the car window and floated right out of it.

Without a backward glance, she went straight to the Henge, threading her way through the long black shadows of the megaliths. When Willow reached the outer circle, she hesitated for a moment. Then the sheer age and the brooding power of Stonehenge settled over her like a mist, drawing her in. Feeling light and excited, she inhaled deeply. She drifted through the massive circles until she reached the Altar Stone itself. Willow stopped at its base, hovering gently. Something good was going to happen. She waited.

From somewhere, she could hear the faint ticking of a clock.

For a moment of immeasurable length Willow waited, her whole being perfectly still, but filled with a wonderful anticipation. Grass rustled as some small animal went about its nocturnal business. The low hooting of a tawny owl reached her from a far-off wood. Still she waited. Then, in an instant, Tara was there. She stood at the head of the Altar Stone, her hair streaming out around her shoulders, looking at Willow with amazement. Tara held out her arms. Willow flew into them.

‘Oh baby, where are you? Are you okay?’

‘I-I guess so,’ said Tara, and showed Willow the room where she lay, with its lamp and table, its dank, curved walls. Tara showed her Pippa entering, Pippa bending over her, syringe in hand, the smell of apples filling the air. Willow held her closer.

‘But what have they done with you? Are you in another room?’ Tara’s anguish vibrated through Willow.

She showed Tara everything that had happened since they had been so brutally parted. She felt Tara’s relief on learning that Willow was safe with Giles, then her confusion.

‘Why me?’

‘We don’t know, yet,’ Willow stroked Tara’s hair, ‘But we will, we will.’

‘And Jones? I haven’t seen him,’ said Tara.

Willow couldn’t help her there, either. She pressed her cheek against Tara’s. The feeling that time was running out nagged at her.

‘Baby, I need to know where you are so I can come get you. Is it London? Show me.’

But all Tara could do was show Willow what she had already seen. Tara had been unconscious from the time she had been drugged in the cafe, until the moment she had puzzled over the shadows on the ceiling in her prison. She could not give Willow any sense of the direction or duration of her journey.

‘I will find you Tara, I will.’

‘I know,’ said Tara.

The moonlight grew brighter. Quickly now, Willow found Tara’s mouth with her own. The ticking of the clock grew louder, pulsing in time with their heartbeats.

All that I am, all that you are, is here now.
All that we are, have been and will be are as one in this eternal moment.
Together forever. Now is forever.

The light intensified to a blazing white. The ticking swelled to a deafening hammer. Willow clung to Tara. Then the light went out, the hammering stopped. Willow felt Tara slipping away from her into the silent, black void that remained.

‘I love you!’ she called.

‘I love you,’ Tara’s voice reached her, echoing through the darkness as it faded away into nothing.

***

‘Stonehenge?’ said Giles, directing his gaze back to the road, ‘That’s over thirty miles south. You can’t possibly see it from here.’

Willow gave a long, shuddering gasp. Giles looked back at her.

‘Are you okay? Oh, I see. Sleeping while I do all the work. Typical. Come on, make yourself useful, pass me a mint.’

[Azirahael]

Dibs! I'll post a more sensible reply once I have time.
Awesome BTW.

Sensible reply:

Wow I'm really looking forward to finding out what's going on, the mark of a good story.
a badly written story would leave you walking away confused, but a good one feeds you just enough to whet the appetite. you have an interesting world set up here, and i loved the tree.

So between Jones and the tree, I'm thinking Fae.
i mean, ancient oak kinda suggests that.

also i'm curious to see what Spike does with all of this.

And yay for Willow getting a grip on herself, Tara will be so proud!

More please?

[willowtaralover]

Hi Vivienne

The last tiny shard of peppermint dissolved on Willow’s tongue. Although tired, Willow felt relaxed, almost happy. Willow knew she couldn’t be sure that Tara was in London, but she had a strong sense that they were getting closer to her. Maybe that was the source of her well-being. The realisation that she was no longer afraid of herself. Of her shadow. Her dark shadow. For the first time in her life, Willow was in charge of her whole self. And she would find Tara.

Wow, she's only had a couple of peppermints yet Willow feels so positive and sure of herself. I don't know what's in those peppermints but if they're that good I want some. GIles didn't add something to them did he?

Loved Willow thinking Wootton Bassett sounds like a dog. Which actually it does thinking about it.

Willow could see an empty spider web, its owner nowhere in sight, but the raindrops had made it seem as though another, other-worldly spider lived there with a crystal body and twinkle-light legs. She watched, fascinated, as it shimmered in a moonbeam. It did not occur to Willow to question how she could see such detail from a car speeding along the motorway. She smiled again, this time at the beauty of it all, as the great Henge loomed over her.

‘Look, Giles. Stonehenge,’ she murmured, her eyes glazed.

Giles gave her a sharp glance.

Ok, now I know there's something tricksy going on here. Willow being able to see in great detail a spiders web when travelling in a car. And then indicating Stonehenge to Giles who looks sharply at her. Has he done something to Willow, possibly through fear she'll go dark again? Under the circumstances it is possible.

From the road that they are travelling on would Willow actually be able to see Sailsbury Plain and Stonehenge?

The scene with the tree was well done, making it into a magical creation in its own right and the clock in Giles home being a 'child' of it in that it was formed from a branch two hundred years previously and that they can in their own way communicate. Could it be as Azirahael suggests and that Fae are inovolved?

Holy crap, you truly outdid yourself with the scene where Willow and Tara's spirits are finally able to meet again at the Altar Stone at Stonehenge. You have got a really good way of presenting the kind of weird mysticalness of the place as if it's even older than the druids and that there is more mysticism there than is suspected. I'm guessing that maybe you live in that area or you've done a lot of research on it.

Really enjoyed this chapter Vivienne, even though your updates are pretty irregular it's worth it when we get chapters like this. Keep it up, there's too much that needs answering like when is Spike going to meet up with Giles and Willow?

Can Spike help rescue Tara?

What exactly is the tablet and why was it sent to Willow and Tara?

What are apple lady Pippa and Jones up to?

Are they working together or independently?

When are Willow, Tara, Giles and Spike going to end up searching the underground tunnels?

Please don't keep us waiting much longer Vivienne I need to know what's going to happen next.

[BeMyDeputy]

Viv,
Thanks for a wonderful chapter. Lovely, really. The lyrical style is so different from the rest of the story, but apropos.

But before I get to it, I suppose I have responding to do.

I'm sure that both Jones' and Pippa's nature will prove to be interesting. I think my default assumption has been that they are both the same type of being, but I suppose that isn't necessarily true at all.

Ah, Spike. Your comment reminds me of one of my favorite lines from Waiting for Dani: "Faith was Faith and her priorities were her own." I think it's easily the line of Deb's I quote most often, at least if you count swapping other people's names in the phrase. I think it's quite apt for Spike.

And now, I do the smart dance. Woo! *smart-dance* I'm so cool.

Poor Altoids, denounced by their homeland. It's a shame, really.


Chapter 15
Like I said, I really love the style change here. I think it felt particularly strong since lately I've been reading Carol and "Storm". The swap to something so much poetic felt really stark. It fits so well; I think the question of "how do you deal with magic" is a difficult one, and you did a great job.

You have my curiosity piqued over Willow's calmness at the opening of the chapter, though my guess is a connection to the tree and the spell, and that the timing with the mint was coincidental. I don't think the explanation she tells herself is sufficient, but I really like how she realizes that feeling relaxed and calm is out of the ordinary, and comes up with an explanation to tell herself. Maybe it's the years of living with a cognitive psychologist, but that just feels so real, so human.

Giles drove on, keeping the car just below the speed limit, eating up the miles between them and Tara.

Perhaps it is a cultural difference, but I simply cannot see the point of having such a nice car only to drive below the speed limit. Around here, driving that slowly--in any car--is terribly dangerous; someone is likely to plow into you.

I am certain that once I am able to visit, I will feel just as amused, if not more amused, than Willow is by place names in England. Do you really mark exit signs in yards? That's almost never the case here; there would be a sign for an exit in a quarter mile. Then again, I'm always confused by which standards I should use when talking to someone in England: you seem to use a mix of imperial and metric standards.

I really liked the description of Stonehenge and the surrounding features throughout, but I love these lines in particular:

Willow could see an empty spider web, its owner nowhere in sight, but the raindrops had made it seem as though another, other-worldly spider lived there with a crystal body and twinkle-light legs. She watched, fascinated, as it shimmered in a moonbeam.

However, I do think you should have cut this line:

It did not occur to Willow to question how she could see such detail from a car speeding along the motorway.

I'm infrequently a fan of asides from the narrator, but I think here it's completely out of place. It breaks the mood. Besides, you don't need it: the chances that your reader has never been in a fast-moving car are very slim, so it's quite clear that Willow shouldn't be able to see a spider web at all, let alone in any great detail. Of course, I'm not only a careful reader, but I also am very picky to the sense that my intelligence is being insulted (a terrible combination, really). If you did want to underline the 'something is out of place'-ness of this, I think it would be better served to keep it in Willow's POV. Have her realize she shouldn't be able to see it, but have her not care. I would still argue that you don't need the line, but then it would feel less jarring.

‘Look, Giles. Stonehenge,’ she murmured, her eyes glazed.

Giles gave her a sharp glance.

Thank you for the detail on Giles' glance, and then later for his comment. Since I have just learned that you can take the A303 from Devon on your way to London, and go right by Stonehenge, I did think she could physically see it. I suppose that you did say that the car was "speeding along the motorway," but I don't know enough about British roads to know if "motorway" is a generic term that could also be applied to an A road.

I think this is the part where I get to do my happy "I'm so smart" dance. w00t! Really, though, very well done.

She took off her seat belt and stood up.

I think this is my favorite line of the chapter. It's just . . . yes.

Willow felt unaccountably pleased. So pleased that she opened the car window and floated right out of it.

And again . . . yes.

‘And Jones? I haven’t seen him,’ said Tara.

I was really pleased that they mentioned Jones, but didn't get to discuss their opinions on whether or not he was a good guy or a bad guy. They get this wonderful chance to connect, but they're still coming at this part of the problem from different angles. Yay!

Tara had been unconscious from the time she had been drugged in the cafe, until the moment she had puzzled over the shadows on the ceiling in her prison. She could not give Willow any sense of the direction or duration of her journey.

I don't think you need these lines, either. It's enough to say "But all Tara could do was show Willow what she had already seen." We know what Tara doesn't know and didn't see. Well, I did; but again, I'm a careful reader, and reread the previous chapter several times. In a book you certainly wouldn't need these lines; in a forum like this, they feel off to me, but I can see putting them as a reminder. Just, I didn't need reminding. ^_^

I'm glad that you did this it'sit's own chapter. This part of the story is set up so Willow and Tara spend so much time apart that this chance for them to be together deserved to be separate. It's special.


I am looking forward to more. While a little bird told me your beta would be out of town soon, I have my fingers crossed that we'll still be getting Highgate updates.

Because I'm selfish that way.


Cheers,
Kate