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 Post subject: W&T: The Raiders Chronicles - Ch.17 of NEW STORY 04/12/14
PostPosted: Sun Feb 03, 2013 8:15 am 
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EDIT: For the start of the sequel please see page 5 of the thread (at least it's page 5 for me)


Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles

OR

The Willow Rosenberg Chronicles: Raiders of the Lost Ark

OR

Raiders of the Last Temple of the Crystal… Stuff.

OR

Raiders of the Lost Vagina (no, not really)

OR

Tara and Willow do (no, not ‘do’ that way because FAQ!) Indiana Jones…

Because the board has limits to the length of titles so we couldn’t have what we wanted (or decide)!


By Katharyn and Chewster



Episode Two: Raiders of the Lost Ark


Welcome to the post I now traditionally use to get the moderators to release the thread and to present my introductions. It also cheats them a little, because they don’t get to read anything and make sure it’s all compliant. They just have to take my word for it.

Except this time, it’s not just my word for it, it’s ‘our’ word for it. (And yes, not to make light of the condition at all, but ‘our’ notes will end up being quite schizophrenic.)

Any who…

In the best traditions of George Lucas, (coincidentally just announced as no longer running Lucasfilm as we write this), this is ‘Episode Two’ even though it’s actually the very first to be written.

This numbering is simply because the sequel to Raiders of the Lost Ark (The Temple of Doom) was in fact a PREQUEL to it. Not a lot of people noticed this when they watched the movies. And yes, this is relevant, because we’re counting our own version of what happened in ToD as background to what happens in this version of Raiders. This is something you need to remember. There will be tests later.

Anyhow, you should thank us for our dedication; we both had to watch that second film… No mean feat. After Marion, Willie was… a let-down. Though, cute if you like blondes who can somehow rock an oversized man’s suit.

And this is rambling already…

So back to the point. This story started as a Nanowrimo story written in November 2012 as a collaboration by two people who deeply appreciate both the Indiana Jones movies as well as – obviously – Tara and Willow. The redrafting occurred later than that, but it was a successful Nano ‘win’ for Katharyn. (Yes, I am now referring to myself in the first, second and third person as well as toying with additional dimensions for a 4th person!)

However the idea behind doing this lies and the structural changes etc. came from Chewster. Not wanting to mess with a good thing too much, most of the writing of the draft was done by Katharyn. Both of us then did a pass on the redraft before Katharyn will be prepping it for posting.

Obviously a huge amount of credit has to go to the people who came up with the stories for the Indiana Jones movies, the screen writers and everyone else involved. George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, Lawrence Kasdan and others. A key resource for this story was the original script by Kasdan (not quite the version that appeared on screen but fascinating in terms of comparison of what was written and what eventually ended up on screen. That was a more grown up Raiders in many ways, Marion’s background in Tibet being one startling example and we’ll reveal those to you as we go.)

We’ve lifted lines and situations straight from the script and the movie(s) to put in this story (though re-written). Please, Mickey, don’t sue us now you’ve bought the company. No money is changing hands, no profit being made etc. Also we’re bringing in Tara, Willow and some other characters from the BTVS TV show in place of the main roles in Raiders. Again, Rupert, please don’t sue us either.

Don’t be confused though, this is very definitely Raiders featuring versions of the BTVS characters, not a ‘Scooby gang’ story.

As we started this, at least one of us was considered a wordy writer and has an ongoing fiction on TKB she is committed to. To Katharyn this presented an exercise in being a little more succinct. (I’m not sure that is actually possible, but hell… it’s a worthy goal.) We gave this a month and it only took about 18 days to get to both 50,000 words and the end of the movie. Don’t look here for something going on forever and don’t expect massive surprises. It’s ROTLA, just with some tweaking for Tara and Willowage.

One final note on that though… Despite the obvious appeal that our hero may have to other girls and women, this story is 100% FAQ compliant. What you, as a reader, may think you know, based on the films doesn’t change what is actually presented here. Tara and Willow goodness, all within the rules. Making that work is part of the changes that have been made to the very familiar story

Everything from this point on is… a fiction that operates on movie lines. The classic serials where a punch from anyone – even a somewhat petite, red haired woman - throws a man clean across the room (or did nothing when facing a giant cos, you know, drama). A place where people fall into kisses within minutes of meeting each other because, you know, swooning was much more common back in the thirties.

The only way Katharyn would consider doing such a ‘rewrite’ of the movie (it really is very close!) is because she sees the potential of considering the further – original – adventures of these characters, and if that happens then this will serve as little more than the primer and the character background for a follow-up(s).

So it’s not original. It’s not hugely different to the movie, don’t expect it to be. And it won’t drag on that long (15 or 16 parts we think). But it was fun to write all the same and we hope that you enjoy reading it because we enjoyed writing it. It's being posted because it exists rather than because it's anything original.

On the other hand, apart from dialogue that was lifted and situations, all the description etc comes from us (or mostly Katharyn) so it's not like someone just did Find/Replace on the novelisation!

Oh, and apart from it being prepped for posting (always coming second to Katharyn’s main story), it’s complete already. So, nothing new for Katharyn's readers there.


Katharyn & Chewster.


PS – The first chapter will be posted once the mods have chance to release the new thread and until we notice that has been done, let the link below tide you over. In fact, we insist. Every time you come back to read it...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sahZ-WOz ... _embedded#

PPS – using the :whip emoticon isn’t clever. But it is very fitting :D As is :wtkiss

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

_________________
-------------------------
If I wanted a little pussy, I've got my own to play with.

Chance in *Chance*
-------------------------


Last edited by Katharyn on Sat Apr 12, 2014 5:02 am, edited 35 times in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - NEW 03/02/13
PostPosted: Sun Feb 03, 2013 10:12 am 
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Title: Tara and Willow – Raiders… – Part One
Author: Katharyn Rosser & Chewster
Feedback: Absolutely, yes please. We’d love to engage in the discussion about the story.
Spoiler warning: Nope. And if you’ve not seen a massively high grossing film from 1980 then just tough luck, we’re not keeping it a secret from you. On the other hand, you’ll probably think we’re genius’ (genies?) for such an amazing story.
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: The jungle of Peru. Introducing our lead character, Doctor Willow Rosenberg.
Disclaimer: We don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS, Raiders of the Lost Ark or Indiana Jones. All rights lie with the production companies, writers etc. We are making no money from this series of stories however any original characters and situations remain our property. As this is a retelling of Raiders of the Lost Ark and references other Indiana Jones films, a lot of dialogue and the entire plot has been taken from that movie. Other lines may have come from the script but were not seen in the movie and so could appear to be original when in fact credit belongs to the scriptwriter. Other elements are all the writers. It’s a complex mix and we will not be trying to allocate credit line by line. It’s enough were not making any money. Right?
Rating: Occasional, tasteful, adult situations and contextual bad language. However by and large equivalent to the movie.
Couples: Well, no one as we open, but Tara and Willow forever.
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: The story opens, of course, in the classic way, however we’ve inserted a little meta explanation at the start. Just for fun. Obviously it’s not true. Or is it?!
After that the first section very much mimics the feel of the film, where the hero is seen only through the eyes of the people (s)he is with which helps build up in the impression that we have of her. Unlike Katharyn’s regular style, we’re not solely within Tara and Willow’s point of view in this fic (though mostly – KR!)
And no, we’re not meeting Tara Maclay just yet… She’s not in Peru.
Character map: This will only show characters so far revealed in the story, but just to keep things straight between this version and the canon…
Willow Rosenberg = Indiana Jones
Thanks to: Katharyn would like to thank Chewster for the idea and the opportunity to prevaricate on re-doing the very complex and demanding finale of her much bigger fic. Oh, and for driving me insane with all these third person references to myself… Yeah, thanks for that.



Introductory note from film historian Alan Smithee.

As people may have come to realise, George Lucas is a perpetual tinkerer. For a long time it has been assumed that the influence of Steven ‘Once and Done’ Spielberg prevented Lucas from returning to his other classic film property and changing it as technology or whim took him.

Not so.

Recent evidence has come to light showing that we may never have known Indiana Jones in the form that we remember it today, and I’m not just talking about the fact they wanted TV’s Magnum to play him. Oh no. We’re talking about differences that would have left Indiana as a state and one of the classic male heroes of the eighties… might have been a woman.

Indiana, as Lucas tells us later in the trilogy, was the dog (and was actually his dog back in the 70’s) So it was in the original story draft of what became Raiders. Indiana was the dog and a state. Not much more.

Instead… we had a rather smaller woman who didn’t really have the complexion you’d want for adventuring in the tropics or deserts (why do you think our hero is so attached to his/her hat) who operated a little differently though the trials she faced were ultimately the same. Nor was she such a loner.

A very different story in some ways, but very much the same in others.

Pulling together the pieces of this story has been an honour and a pleasure, taking nothing away from the modern legend that is Indiana Jones, but expanding our understanding of what the series could’ve been.

Were audiences ready for a pretty, Jewish, slightly delicate, brain box who still knew how to throw a punch and happened to like girls just as much as her successor ever did? Probably not. In hindsight you can see why the changes were necessary to make the movie the success it was.

But now we’re in another world, the world as it was intended to be.

Doctor Willow Rosenberg, why don’t you come out of the shadows and take a bow?




ONE

Peru - South America – 1936



A long journey from Lima ought to have been coming to its natural conclusion. That should’ve meant the discovery of hidden treasures, lost to time with the extinction of the people who’d once made this into the heart of a thriving kingdom.

Treasures that sold well and fetched a good price. Antiquities perhaps. Gems would’ve been his preference. Light, easy to carry and hide. But no, not gems. Not this trip.

This time out they were seeking gold. An idol, in point of fact. A legend.

Barranca slapped at another mosquito, squashing it beneath his hand but there were any number of them already sucking on his blood. Leeches too. But this one… it had been in reach and already itching. Not that you could escape the grasp – and bites – of insects or any number of other creatures. Not out here.

Their leader paid no attention to the insects, stepping cagily through the lush jungle with only some of the grace of her sex but all the experience of her reputation. This was not the first time that she’d taken men into the jungle.

Though it was very likely the last unless she was a good deal more reasonable than that reputation suggested. And even then… Barranca didn’t think much of the idea of having partners.

But until he could get his hands on that damned map there wasn’t much he could do. She slept with it against her skin and more than one man back in Lima had found out the hard way that getting too close to her was a more unpleasant experience than her looks should’ve suggested.

Why not make use of the famous Doctor to get them there though? At the end of the day, all he was really concerned about was not letting her be the one who walked out of the jungle with the idol.

If it existed.

She was here though, she believed it and she was better at this than he was. His talents lay in other directions – a few of which he’d happily have demonstrated for her had her reputation not – once again – preceded her.

The Doctor, she didn’t actually strike poses, but somehow she always found them anyway. As if a Hollywood movie camera were following them and she was directed to look heroic. Barranca liked movies and fully intended that the profits from this venture would fund his new life in America where the best ones came from. Possibly in Hollywood itself, where they were always looking for authenticity.

He had the face for it, he thought. A certain roguish charm.

Like now, the Doctor had paused to remove her hat, showing a flash of the distinctive red hair that set her apart on this entire continent. The hair was caught in the halo effect of a sun that was still high in the sky. She wiped her brow with the sleeve of her shirt, not at all ladylike, then the hat was back on and she looked just as heroic as she probably imagined herself to be. Saving the treasures of history to gather dust in some gringo museum.

The hat, with its wide brim, was just as distinctive in profile against the mountain beyond. Nor was she as helpless as her diminutive size might’ve suggested. The revolver and whip on her hips just demonstrated that.

And who else wore a leather jacket into the jungle with the sun at its height?

A red haired, pale, gringo woman who probably always felt cold.

His compatriot, Satipo, was a little in awe of the woman rather than the reputation that went before her. Most likely he wanted to bed her, but since he couldn’t he’d elevated her to a pedestal. The man should’ve been his natural ally, but Barranca was willing to go ahead without his help. Satipo would die poor, probably here in the jungle, because he couldn’t look beyond a pair of breasts that seemed larger now than they had when she’d hired him back in Lima, while everything else had been shrunken by dehydration.

Leaving behind all modes of transports, eventually including the boats, they’d taken on porters along the way. They’d be no hindrance either. In fact the men were already nervous, understanding a little of the real dangers of this place.

And all the imagined ones they’d learned at their grandmothers’ knees.

This was one advantage he held over the Doctor – in addition to gaining her trust – he was the conduit for speaking to the Indians. Their language wasn’t one of the many that she apparently spoke.

“Ignore them,” he said as the Doctor turned in askance of what had the porters so spooked this time. “They’re talking about the curse.”

There were other things that they should worry about. He yelled at the Indians, cursing them for their superstition and their ignorance of the very real danger that they were all in. But there was no reward without risk.

And effort. A man had to work for his crust.

Breaking through the jungle, the Doctor used the minimum of effort to push aside the last of the giant leaves and to reveal… Surely this must their destination? Yes!

The porters weren’t so bold as any of the more civilised members of the party. When they saw the statue that the Doctor had told them would make the entrance to the ancient temple grounds, three of the five fled, dumping the materials that they’d been carrying and had seemed important but the look on the Doctor’s face suggested wouldn’t be needed at all.

“Let them go,” the soft, feminine voice said as he pulled out his pistol, ready to shoot them for their treachery. The hand on his arm was small but insistent and with neatly trimmed nails. He didn’t fight it’s urging as the natives melted into the trees in three different directions.

Barranca looked down at the hand, wondering about whether he ought to make the Doctor pay for the indignities she’d visited upon him. Pay creatively… But this wasn’t a spot to linger and she’d paid him, paid him well, for coming with her this far. The payoff would be much better than she knew though.

At least for him.

Her time was coming, and soon. Some of the natives – if she was discovered quickly enough – would find creative use for her corpse. That would suffice.

The hand released him and the Doctor obviously had no inkling of what was going to happen. They were here. The Doctor had been as good as her word. I’d never have found it without her

There was still the entrance to find, but… any fool could accomplish that now that they were in the vicinity.

“We don’t need them,” she said, briefly hanging her hat on the engorged member of the very male statue as she pushed some stray hair back into the confining bunch it had escaped from. It was about the only use she had for the male member, or so it was said. She wasn’t any man’s woman, as she’d made clear in Lima.

But if she let the porters go, then who was going to carry all of the supplies needed to get out of here? He turned, looked Satipo in the eye and caught a glimpse of… The other man realised that someone else here was playing their own game. Had he yet found an ally?

A junior partner?

A disposable one.

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

With the mist rising around them, it was getting tougher to see your hand in front of your face but – as always in the jungle – the sound carried. Every footstep that broke a twig or every time a branch swished back into place, they were potentially giving themselves away.

The gringo senora didn’t seem worried about the things that were out here, treating everything like it was part of the jungle.

True enough, Satipo thought. The Hovitos are part of the jungle. They wouldn’t hear them coming. Wouldn’t see them until it was far too late. Maybe hearing the sounds of their blowpipes in the second before you were frozen in place by the poison that used to hunt animals. Your heart betraying you as it pumped the toxin all around your body until – eventually – they came to you cut you open and gut you like they would any other piece of game.

It was no way for a man to die, which was why he wasn’t happy when he saw the dart.

Pulling it from the tree, he could see that the poison was still intact. It didn’t last long in this damp environment, but it still coated the tip. Still dangerous.

The Hovitos, nomads that traversed their entire range three times a year, were surely nearby.

Something the gringo had to worry about. Many places in the world, including Lima, a young, attractive woman – even as pale as her – would be kept alive for other reasons. Not here. Here they’d gut her, eat her and make a bowl out of her skull.

Just like the rest of them.

“The Hovitos are near. The poison is still fresh. Three days, they’re following us, I tell you.”

The gringo woman shook her head, though it was only the movement of the hat that let you see it. Ordinarily, he’d have been watching her chest. He was a breast man and, if he was any judge, she seemed larger today than she had when they met her in Lima. He thought Barranca had noticed it to, but he approved. The look suited her, just as it would suit any young woman. Just last night he’d watched her as they made camp, washing in the river and carefully cleaning the alternate set of underwear that she carried and swapped over every day. This was a woman who knew how to live in the jungle. Keep things clean, keep them dry. That was the key to surviving here.

Or they’d rot right off. This was the first time he’d been out here with a woman. And the last, he was sure.

“Uhuh,” she said. “If they knew we were here, I’m pretty sure we’d be dead already.”

Though they couldn’t have understood, the statement seemed to cause some consternation amongst the two remaining porters, already disturbed by their friends leaving. Satipo couldn’t blame them. He’d never have thought of shooting them in the back as Barranca has seemed willing to.

The Horvitos scared him too.

“Shut up!” the other Lima man yelled, his meaning must’ve been obvious even though he’d not used their language.

But when one of the porters pulled back another branch, he was face to face with a large – demonic – stone sculpture and that was that. Even the hardiest of them broke and ran, the myths of their forefathers overwhelming the influence of three modern men from the outside world.

Make that two men and one woman.

A woman with the map to their destination. Sure, they’d arrived, but the gringo had been to fancy schools, learning about all this stuff. She was expert and Barranca was definitely… up to something.

Once again though, the woman didn’t seem to care. Not that they’d been abandoned, not that they’d lost so much of their gear and equipment. Everything she’d had them carry out here, just in case.

Stood at the end of a small lake, maybe – he supposed – a feature of the temple that they’d rediscovered, the gringo woman took the two fragments of the map that had led her this far and examined them.

Meanwhile he was looking over at his counterpart who – very slowly – was pulling his gun from its holster. Barranca had drawn it at least a dozen times on the trip, mostly to threaten the porters or make his point in a heated argument. But he’d never pointed it at their employer and he’d never used it. At least not within sight and earshot.

You just knew though, you knew that he was capable of it and had done so before.

There wasn’t any external threat now and the porters weren’t coming back, Barranca was about to kill the woman. He thought they were close enough and that they didn’t need her any more.

Frozen, Satipo considered his options. Stick with the known payday, a share of the finder’s fee plus the pay he’d already earned. Or twist, and throw in with Barranca. Not that he’d been asked, but might he get more as a junior partner than just an employee?

It didn’t look Barranca was looking for help though, he pulled back the trigger and the sound echoed through the mist. The gringo couldn’t fail to hear it. And froze. Not that it would help. Barranca wasn’t the kind of man who was afraid of shooting someone in the back. Certainly not a woman.

Point of fact, he probably thought it was the ideal way to shoot –

Oh! The gringo was fast. Satipo hadn’t even realised what was happening when the Doctor had already spun around and something

The whip?

The bullwhip that the Doctor had been wearing this whole time snapped out all across the distance to Barranca and then the pistol went off… but it was falling to the ground before the hammer fell.

The gringo doctor hadn’t even recovered it or pulled the whip back when Barranca thought better of extending the fight and – clutching his hand – broke and ran for it.

Into the Hovitos infested jungle.

The Doctor wasn’t even paying attention to the fleeing man though; instead those green eyes were latched on him from under the brim of the fedora. He could feel the judgement, the assessment.

Would the whip come for him next? His hands went up in the air only to be met with a small shake of the head.

“Let’s go,” Doctor Willow Rosenberg re-looped the whip and Satipo followed on behind her, certain he’d made the right choice by making no choice at all.

No way did he want to be running in the jungle here…

The Hovitos weren’t friendly.

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

_________________
-------------------------
If I wanted a little pussy, I've got my own to play with.

Chance in *Chance*
-------------------------


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 Post subject: Re: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - NEW 03/02/13
PostPosted: Sun Feb 03, 2013 10:55 am 
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Story Dibs!

It's only right since I'm Katharyn's biggest groupie * coughs* I mean fan :blush .


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 Post subject: Re: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - NEW 03/02/13
PostPosted: Sun Feb 03, 2013 11:18 am 
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Oh, I like this concept, Dr. Willow Rosenberg instead of Dr. Indiana Jones. I'm wondering if Tara will have the identity of Indy's love interest in the first movie (without the age difference between them, of course) or if we're in for a surprise...


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 Post subject: Re: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - NEW 03/02/13
PostPosted: Sun Feb 03, 2013 11:23 am 
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Grimm - Story dibs? That's a thing now? Really? LOL. Well done!

Wills_redemption - As a concept, I know! That was what grabbed me when it was suggested otherwise I'd never have gone there. I'm not a fan of this sort of story (as a concept) but... this one just worked for me.

I'm not going to say too much about the roles that various characters will occupy until we get there (we'll find out 3 more before we get to Tara) but what I will say is that their ages are broadly similar and that they're not exactly college age. I mean, Willow is a Doctor and Tara's lived her own life too.

Thanks!

_________________
-------------------------
If I wanted a little pussy, I've got my own to play with.

Chance in *Chance*
-------------------------


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 Post subject: Re: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - NEW 03/02/13
PostPosted: Sun Feb 03, 2013 11:25 am 
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I really like Willow in the role of Indy...It just works. She has the focus and comes off as pretty bad ass with the whip!

How many updates do I have to look forward too? I'm digging what you guys have done so far.

As for the possible title, I'm leaning towards Willow and Tara : The Raiders Chronicles.


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 Post subject: Re: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - NEW 03/02/13
PostPosted: Sun Feb 03, 2013 11:32 am 
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Grimm - Well, thanks!

Willow in the role... You know me, I considered Tara. I really considered Tara. And I had to be persuaded that THIS time she wasn't the best choice as Indy. The thing that sold me was Chewster describing the possibility of a moment that occurs in the next part. Remember the thing with the bag of sand in the movie? Goes a little differently and it's soooo Willow. Well, so THIS Willow...

I was sold.

Updates? 15 or 16 in total. I forget which. I will probably go for a similar pattern to Coulda Woulda Shoulda with every 3 days or so.

Titles? That was driven by the board. I needed something that would fit in the thread title and allow an update date on too. LOL. Otherwise it would've been one of the others (but not the vagina one, cos I'm a good girl...) :whip

Katharyn

_________________
-------------------------
If I wanted a little pussy, I've got my own to play with.

Chance in *Chance*
-------------------------


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 Post subject: Re: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - NEW 03/02/13
PostPosted: Sun Feb 03, 2013 11:55 am 
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I wanted to snatch up the dibs but that wouldn’t have been fair. Anyhoo.. it’s been ages since I’ve seen Indiana. (the state and the movie) :grin Great imagery with Willow striking the pose. That’s a classic moment and one of few I actually remember. The rest is shiny and new with just a smidge of familiarity. Yeah, this is gonna be an exciting adventure with Willow and Tara!

And I agree with Grmm and your writing partner.. Willow is a good fit. I just can't wrap my head around Tara with a whip. Maybe if she was a horse trainer but even then she wouldn't need one. :)

I can’t distinguish who wrote what. Do either of you know? LOL Really nice job Chewster and Katharyn!! Color me impressed.


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 Post subject: Re: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - NEW 03/02/13
PostPosted: Mon Feb 04, 2013 11:57 am 
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Kajun - It's very noble of you to not dibs when you had the chance. But if Grimm has story dibs, you have board dibs. Which trumps everything!

I like the idea of the image. In a perfect world you wouldn't have known that Willow was Willow until she was revealed with the whip, but that perfect world can't exist here (plus I have this need to explain myself - you may have noticed!)

And I'm certainly pleased at one person can't remember Raiders! You will think we're frigging geniuses then!! (the guys who made the money were the ones with the good ideas...)

And I know Willow is the best choice but... after Sidestep where I pushed Tara into that role, I've always had her front and centre... It feels odd!! But that's just me.

Who wrote what? You can't really say that paragraph was and that wasn't. Pretty much I wrote the whole draft (that is I - KR). Chewster role was the concept and the summary/dialogue draft (if you want to call it that) turning the script into a T/W variation but it really is very close. But for all the background and scene stuff, that was me with prompts for ideas. Writing wise, I am faster and demanded that if it was getting done it was getting done now! (In November) so... he pretty much left me to that. After that, the redraft was first his and then mine. Mostly because by the time I came to mine, I'd forgotten all about what had been there at the first draft version :)

Posting draft is me again, because I'm in that groove, but unlike my own stories the posting draft really is just grammar/spelling/missing words etc. Not subject to as many changes as say, Coulda. Woulda. Shoulda. But that's okay, because in an original story you can change things much more. If the readers have a cool idea in this story, I just get to say 'Spielberg did it this way. That's cooler than your idea' and get on with it :)

So for now, thanks so much.

I will be posting chapter 2 in a minute. That won't continue with daily parts partly because of time to prepare them in two fics now, but also because I am really only posting it so you have a Willow moment...

After this we'll be on 3 days a part I think (with one extra for part 3 to allow the two fics to get OUT of synch. Easier for me that way)

Thanks
Katharyn (and co!)

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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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 Post subject: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 2 - 02/04/13
PostPosted: Mon Feb 04, 2013 12:40 pm 
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Title: Tara and Willow – Raiders… – Part Two
Author: Katharyn Rosser & Chewster
Feedback: Absolutely, yes please. Love to engage in the discussion about the story.
Spoiler warning: Nope. And if you’ve not seen a film from 1980 then just tough luck, we’re not keeping it a secret. On the other hand, you’ll probably think we’re genius’ (genies?) for such an amazing story.
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: Into the temple… but not the Temple of Doom. Because that was 3 years before… Oh, and we’ll see why everyone’s noticing Willow’s boobs.
Disclaimer: We don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS, Raiders of the Lost Ark or Indiana Jones. All rights lie with the production companies, writers etc. We are making no money from this series of stories however any original characters and situations remain my property. As this is a retelling of Raiders of the Lost Ark and references other Indiana Jones films, a lot of dialogue and the entire plot has been taken from that movie. Other lines may have come from the script but were not seen in the movie and so could appear to be original when in fact credit belongs to the scriptwriter. Other elements are all the writers. It’s a complex mix and we will not be trying to allocate credit line by line.
Rating: Occasional, tasteful, adult situations and contextual bad language. However by and large equivalent to the movie.
Couples: Well, no one as we open, but Tara and Willow forever.
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: We shift to Willow’s perspective after that introduction to the character and her reputation in part one. Obviously we can start to make her a little more Willow than she was in part one, but the action will broadly follow the movie so don’t expect any major changes.
This deals with the fact that I (KR) am not all that keen on crossovers where an individual named Willow Rosenberg really isn’t her. Out of time, out of her place… it’s so easy to end up with a character that has the looks and a few mannerisms (plus a love of Tara) and not truly be her… So I’m fighting against that, but also staying with the movie. Perhaps I’ll be happier in a sequel (if it happens) where I have more freedom to let her react in a more Willowesque way.
As I mentioned previously, Tara won’t show up while we’re in Peru but she’s not far off in story terms. Any guesses?
Character map: This will only show characters so far revealed in the story, but just to keep things straight between this version and the canon…
Willow Rosenberg = Indiana Jones
Thanks to: Chewster for a two quite inspired pieces of stunt casting when I thought we were going to tell this ‘straight.’ Both the characters named were his idea and one has real ramifications for the rest of the story that were just fantastic…



Willow didn’t actually need to look at the map again.

It was already burned into her mind like a dozen others had been over the years, she could recall the details of every one of them. The thing was she was reliant on the sort of people who weren’t always that… well, reliable. The sorts of people who got interested in possessing whatever she’d already committed to memory.

Referring to the map so often kept her companions looking in the wrong direction. Men like Barranca who might well have hesitated to pull the trigger because he’d never actually seen the map and would’ve asked her to hand it over before he shot her. It could’ve fallen been holed, covered in blood or lost in the lake or anything.

Or maybe he’d not thought ahead that far. It was definitely possible.

For every Sallah or Wu Han, there were five or six Barranca’s out there. More, perhaps. Men who could get the job done and knew the right people – or the wrong ones as it usually proved she actually needed. Trouble was you didn’t get to know them without doing business with them and that took a certain moral flexibility.

Satipo? She wasn’t sure about him yet, but he hadn’t thrown in with Barranca at the critical moment and that gave him some extra credit.

“This is where Forrestal bought it,” she mused.

“A friend of yours?” he asked.

“Competitor. A very good competitor.”

“No one comes out of here alive, senora. That is what they say.”

“Well,” Willow replied, “‘they’ can’t even know that unless someone actually did.”

Not great logic, but it seemed to help Satipo settle a little. The man was cut from a different cloth from Barranca. A different cloth from Forrestal, for that matter. And he was right, no one had ever come back from this place and said anything about it.

There were a few reasons for that, besides the obvious. The better you were, the easier you found things and the more overconfident you got. That was her opinion. When things went against you, when you rode your luck on the back of your skill… well, then you were probably working for it. Not just skating by.

She just hoped that working for it was good enough. But hoping wasn’t good enough. She had to show that she knew it was enough.

Taking the torches from the pack that Satipo had lugged up here once the porters had fled, they got them lit and pushed on into the entrance of the temple.

Temples. Because I have so much luck with temples... of any kind.

This one, it was only the wildlife that was in residence. The locals stayed well away and the dangers were entirely different.

No Thuggee cults or gangsters. This was an archaeological problem, something she was trained for. Though all the immediate evidence suggested that wildlife had pretty much taken the place over. Plants and roots draped through the intricate stonework and you could see in places that the relentless pressure had knocked walls in and brought slumps of earth through the gaps behind them.

The whole thing was built into the side of a hill – or had the hill developed over the obstruction of the temple? The latter, she thought.

Things that crawled, skittered and slid were in abundance too. Old spider webs were everywhere, hanging intact like shrouds and moving in the breeze. Proving that no one had entered this place in years. Not since Forrestal anyway.

She liked to think that her competitor would’ve at least made it here, but the jungle could easily have claimed that party…

And before Forrestal? Could’ve been centuries, given the fear, territoriality and how the nearby native tribes felt about intruders in the sacred places of their revered ancestors. Oral traditions told them to stay away, even if the original reasons had probably been lost to time. Fascinating, actually.

If you had the time to be intellectual about it.

There was something about it all this though, going somewhere that no one else had ever been. Seeing and touching things that had been lost to civilization for centuries or sometimes even longer. It was something that drove her on, finding places like this.

That and the thrill of it, of course.

Then there was a sound from Satipo, strangled, like he was afraid of something. “Senora!”

The man was hanging back, terror plain on his face. Willow looked at her shoulder, saw the giant tarantula running over her shoulder and flicked it away with the coiled whip, then two more – at least – from her back. Have webs and you will have spiders. Went together like girls and eye-shadow.

Except hairier.

She gestured, seeing the same, creeping, movement at Satipo’s shoulder. She wasn’t particularly afraid of spiders, but as he turned around she could see that was a lot of spiders…

Holy Moly. Flicking gently, they didn’t get excited or aggressive as they fell to the ground. Most likely generations of spiders had been unaware that men even existed until this moment. Maybe it was something they could tell all their spider babies about. Or… maybe that wasn’t how things worked.

They pushed on, careful not to stand on the skittering creatures either.

Here and there she actually found a few small little pieces, the kinds that the university did tend to like. The sorts of things they could put them in little cabinets and make it look like they had whole teams of archaeologists out doing field work rather than just teaching the discipline in slightly musty classrooms and lecture halls. She put them in her pocket. Even if the mother lode wasn’t here then these would help pay for the trip.

The old man would see to that.

She slowed down, admiring the intricacy of the hand-carved grooves cut into the temple. An old ramp up to a higher level? Something to do with the construction and need to move stone? It might bear looking at if there was no luck on this level, but everything above them looked like it must be inundated with earth and rocks… For now though... Keep moving.

Carefully.

Caution was more than merited; she’d already spotted half a dozen traps of various kinds. Designed to seal this place tightly, like an Egyptian pyramid. But never used… for some reason. Perhaps because the makers had never had chance to seal it up.

Or perhaps because they’d never expected anyone to dare to enter. Superstition and common knowledge merged to protect the place, at least from the local population. But if someone did come in here… the traps were there. And because she was wary, she put her arm out to block Satipo’s progress through an open space, penetrated only by sunlight from above.

Carefully arranged sunlight, if you knew what you were looking for. The kind of sunlight that meant clearing a shaft, descending at a perfect angle and making sure it was never overgrown, even after centuries. That kind of sunlight.

“What’s wrong? There’s no danger here?”

Willow ran her hand through the shaft of light, but not watching her shadow. Instead… Spikes. Big damned spikes that sprang out of the wall. And impaled on them?

At first glance it might’ve been an animal, but actually it’d been a person. Human. A woman, in fact. A white woman. But she was mostly eaten away, bones and rotting skin. Everything inside was long since gone, eaten by creatures of some kind, even though the skin had been left largely alone except by the general ravages of the climate.

“Verruca Forrestal,” she revealed, feeling like she was making an introduction.

Satipo stared at the dead woman, perhaps not reassured that he was with another woman who was supposed to know her job. Yes, like every woman was the same?

It’s only fear.

She felt it, of course she did. But if there was one thing Dad had done for her, it was to make her self-reliant. She’d had to be. And that meant facing your fear, embracing it like a lover and pushing onwards. Better to do it than to stay afraid of it forever.

A lesson that maybe Satipo could learn here. It’d make him a better man, if he did.

“We can go no further, senora.” Fear had grabbed.

“Sure we can.”

The next obstacle they faced was just a hole in the ground. Deep enough to break every bone in your legs if not to kill you outright should you fall. The effect would be the same, it’d just take longer. How many people were at the bottom of that dark pit? It might appear simple, but it was lined with soil too soft to ever climb, too fragile to do anything but pull in on yourself. You might suffocate to death instead of dehydrating in the heat. The analytical side of her saw all these things and the part that had always delighted in the complexities of ancient traps and mechanisms also admired the simplicity of it after something so complex as the daylight trap.

Could anyone today have built that? Anyone could dig a hole in the ground but… It still had to be negotiated.

Her trusty whip saved the day again as she flicked it out at an intruding tree root that crossed the chasm almost at a perfect point. A century or so of growth right there? At least. More to get down here to this level in the first place. And now nature was going to give them the way into man’s space, after the jungle had fought them the whole way here.

Funny how things worked out.

Testing it, the root gave enough to worry both of them but what else was she going to do. Going first - since she was much lighter and it was her whip - she tossed the handle of the whip back to him and was pleased to see her judgement validated as the root held his weight too. In exchange she took the torch from him, but the whip she left where it was.

Always leave yourself a quick exit.

Once again they pushed on and you didn’t need to be a doctor of anything to realise that they must be at their destination. A sanctuary. A large, domed space, dodecagon in shape and leading to the raised altar at the far end of the room. It was brightly lit by intruding daylight too.

What do you know; we could’ve jumped down through those skylights.

Once again she reached out, once again kept Satipo from surging forwards. Gold would do that to many a man. The figurine on the altar was at the centre of the sunlight that streamed in. It was highly polished since gold would not tarnish and scattering golden light all around the place too.

Drawing you in… dazzling you. Oh yes, the builders had understood what they were doing.

“Wait.”

“There’s nothing – we should get it, and quickly.”

Willow maintained her grip, keeping him from pushing on. The patterns on the floor were… Kneeling, she pushed the bottom of the torch at the darker floor tile, felt it give a little and then…

Showing the dart that was stuck in the torch to Satipo, she had little doubt once they’d been poisoned, there was little chance it would’ve remained toxic long enough to do much now, but this was the jungle. A deep wound here, uncared for, would fester and you’d lose a leg in days. Most likely you’d fall, or stumble and take a few more darts for your trouble.

Even without poison, even one could be a death sentence.

“That would ruin your day,” she said, giving him the torch. He stared at it leerily.

The dart had shot from a hole in the wall. Clever, clever stuff. Especially to still be working and pressure sensitive after all this time. On examination the walls were lined with dart holes and the floor was covered with those same pressure pads. But there were spots you could walk on, clearly visible once you knew what you were looking for.

“You wait here.”

“If you insist, senora.”

Willow began the careful walk across the chamber, avoiding the dark pressure pads and she didn’t once hear the tell-tale sound of a dart being fired at her. Until… she reached the altar. At this, the most holy of places, it seemed likely you could freely stand on the step or else how would the priests have conducted their rituals?

Carefully, she supposed.

But… was she right? Gingerly she tested the proposition and the step didn’t give under her weight. All the same, it didn’t take much examination to understand that the altar itself was composed of moving parts. The statue rested upon a plinth, or more accurately a stone, that was set into the carved receptacle beneath it. There was no need for that… unless…

They did like their triggers, the ancient builders, didn’t they?

One more then?

Change the weight balanced upon it and the trap would be sprung, but it was a centuries old mechanism so perhaps intruding dirt and grime would give her a split second…? Perhaps time enough if it was carefully judged? Maybe… Glancing back at Satipo, she made sure her back was to him and undid her shirt a little. Then reaching into the cups of her brassiere she pulled out the two bags of salt she’d had secured for just this occasion. And not because she liked to be underestimated because of the apparent size of her boobs. She’d just been aware she might need this kind of option and you couldn’t have too much salt in the jungle. Either to trade or to replenish all that you were losing just through sweat.

Idly she wondered if he’d notice the difference while she had a gold idol in her hands? Maybe not…

Now, yes… Lose a little? She needed both bags, but did they need to be full? Judging the weight was difficult. The idol was gold, but was it solid?

Fastening up her shirt, she turned to the statue that watched her expressionlessly. “Our little secret, okay, little fella?”

Little being the operative word.

This was going to have to be carefully done. Maybe, on second thoughts, the bags were just a little on the heavy side… She lost a little out of one of them, weighing one against the other in her hands, but then both against her mental calculation for what the idol she was trying to balance should weigh.

Then it was a question of making the transition as smooth as possible. All ready to go as she tied the two bags together. No… Wait. Breathe. Get it just… so.

There.

She had the idol in her hands.

The boob enhancing bags of salt were on the pedestal.

Done.

Easy enough. Right?

She turned around, showing the idol to Satipo and – this once – excused the fact that his eyes really did drift to her chest. Yeah, it made quite a difference and now her shirt was all kinds of baggy. But you never knew, you always had to be prepared and if carrying a little extra weight meant boosting her assets? Fine.

“That - ”

She froze in place and looked back at the plinth where the bags of sand had dropped down and – all around them – some sort of mechanism had fired up. Too many cups! And this was in no way good.

So… there was just one thing for it.

“Run!”

It took Satipo longer to understand and he watched for a moment as she pulled her jacket up around her and tried to cross the dart trapped floor as fast as possible. Then it didn’t matter where she stepped, the darts were just flying anyway and the stonework around them started to shake –

Damn, the whole place was going to come down. The builders really loved their little gold guy. And how the hell could the whole thing be balanced on just the mechanism in that trap?

Sometime soon she was going to have to admire the intricacy of it all, the balance and the precision.

But before she could do that, they had to get out of here.

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

Okay, admiration for the cleverness of the builders of this place, definitely misplaced.

Try being in sheer terror of their genius.

Willow ran, knowing that several of the darts had hit her jacket and lodged there, but unsure whether she’d been wounded by one or not.

Worry about that when I get outside.

Satipo was ahead of her and already swinging across the pit when she caught sight of him. Inexperience with the whip saw him land in a clatter, but also disconnect the whip from the root that was supporting it. Both fell on the ground on the opposite side and around them masonry was starting to reign down.

“Throw me the whip,” she demanded.

Satipo hesitated and Willow knew what was going through his mind. And it wasn’t her chest that he was looking at now, it was the idol under her arm.

Don’t do this, you don’t want to die.

And he would… one way or another. If he did this he was dead. Too nervous to get away from the natives and too much of a city boy to make it out of the jungle. Once he had his hands on the gold, he’d be too greedy to let go again and she wasn’t going to leave it to him.

This belonged in a museum. Not melted down or in some private collection.

“Throw me the whip!”

“Throw me the idol and I throw you the whip.”

Yeah, he’d done it.

“No time to argue,” Satipo said.

And he was right, Willow lurched to one side as a chunk of the wall came crashing in. Maybe if I could dodge everything that was falling, she thought, I could just walk out of here…

Trouble was that a few hundred tons of stone was going to give her a really bad day.

Satipo was right, there was no time. She tossed the idol over and the man caught it neatly, looked at it for a long second and then back at her.

“Throw me the whip!”

They both knew, in that moment, that he couldn’t. They knew that she wouldn’t let him keep it, not once she was over the other side and they both knew that he’d not make it out of the jungle ahead of her. But, unlike Barranca, he wasn’t up to killing her himself.

Easier just to leave her here.

“Adios, senora,” he said with a tip of his head in salute, dropping the whip on the ground.

Not unexpected, actually and she’d already evaluated her options. The fact that there was just one – beside the unacceptable ‘stand here and get crushed’ – made the decision much easier. Backing up as far as she dared towards the sanctum that had all but collapsed behind her, she took a run at the pit, full pelt and launched herself –

I’m going to do, I’m going to do it, I’m going to do it –

Oh. Shit. I didn’t do it.


Grabbing the opposite edge, her fingers were digging into the too soft earth. She tried to hold herself up but started to slide towards oblivion. The vine! The old dead vine… catching hold of that she pulled herself up and then that too started to slip out of the ground and she slid down the side of the pit even though she was climbing upwards.

This just isn’t fair!

The vine held, who knew for how long it would do that for though, and she restarted the climb up it even as parts of the roof collapsed into the pit behind her while she scrambled out of it. And up ahead…

Definitely not fair! I’ve seen this before, but there’s no one to let me out this time!

A vast stone door was coming down from the roof towards the floor, already half way to sealing her fate and she threw herself at it, rolling to get underneath and glad that she no longer had the giant, salt laden bazoombas that might’ve slowed her down or even trapped her. But – She grabbed at her hat and pulled it under the door just before it slammed closed.

Always take a hat, don’t want to risk sunburn.

One person who’d already seen too much of the sunlight was Satipo. He’d run straight into the trap that had been revealed before – somehow reset – and the spikes had slammed into him. Taking him through the forehead, guts and balls.

“I told you to stay out of the light, senor,” she said to his lifeless, horror struck face and collected the idol from the ground in front of him. Fitting that they were together. Forrestal and Satipo, this would be both their tombs.

And they were about to be buried in it.

“Now I just have to make sure it’s not mine.”

After that brief pause, and with the object of so much death and desire under her arm, Willow ran through the temple, towards the incline where the grooves… Oh, I should’ve known… The rumbling that was getting louder and the louder had an obvious source.

Looking back, needing – but afraid – to see how much space and time she had, the huge, spherical boulder that had been carved to fit the size of the passageway perfectly – of course – wasn’t far behind her. But it was gaining speed as it rolled onwards towards her. Relentless in its guided pursuit.

At least this was a definite something to run away from. Just go faster.

Must go faster!

Instead of simply raining down from above, the debris was now being fired past her by the ball that was rapidly gaining on her no matter how much faster she ran and good God, her oversized brassiere really wasn’t doing much for her now!

But there was the exit – to daylight, safety and freedom.

Running hard she felt the ball catch on the back of her boot and knew that there was only one choice – one last chance or she was going to end up trapped under it with her legs inside and her body outside the temple.

She dove for the light, just as the boulder slammed into place and sealed the entrance to the temple. There was an explosion of dust around her as the air was pushed out ahead of it.

Jungle had never felt so good. Taking deep breaths, she clutched the idol to her and slowly recovered, rolling over to find…

Okay then.

So these would be the Hovitos, right?

And those would be their spears. Honed by thousands of years of hunting and intra-tribal warfare that had left them supreme in the territory. But they didn’t seem keen on showing her the details of how they’d developed their weaponry over that time. Or very talkative at all. Silence.

Three of them with their spears in her faces. Willow’s mind raced. She had considered paying a visit to their matriarchs, buying the right to traverse these lands. Lying about her intent, surely, but… she hadn’t done that. Mistake?

As one spear prodded at her, the hat came off and she saw the Horvitos – there were many more than just three arrayed around her – start in surprise. White people were no longer alien to them, but they’d probably never seen anyone as white as she was.

Or the red hair.

While some tribes might’ve taken that as something to fear – or possibly to scalp her for – this time it didn’t do her much good. Why? Because they had company.

A little taller than her, dressed in tight trousers and a black silk blouse that seemed unmarred by the rainforest. The dark haired woman’s hat was arraigned with a tiger skin belt and – this was new – ears… Human ears. Gifts from her friends the Horvitos, perhaps?

What, she had about thirty of their warriors here? Figured… This woman wasn’t known for doing things by halves.

“Doctor Rosenberg,” the European accented voice said. “So we see, once again, that there is nothing that you cannot briefly possess that I cannot take away. You chose the wrong friends.”

Barranca fell on his face beside her, his back covered with the spines of poisoned darts. They hadn’t yet sliced him open, and so as likely as not he wasn’t dead, but he might as well have been. Every muscle in his body, bar the heart, would be rigid. A living death.

“And this time it will cost you.”

The other woman held out her hand. Willow looked at it, the perfectly manicured nails and then looked at her own fingers, cut and covered in dirt. She had splinters and… Yeah, I’m a mess. With a sigh she handed over the idol, seeing the familiar lust for profit and – more than that – victory in the other woman’s eyes.

“And now the weapon, if you please. Slowly.”

Willow slowly – very slowly – pulled out the gun to the sound of thirty bows, spears and blowpipes being ready to inflict a swifter death than Barranca had earned. Then she handed over the revolver to the woman who’d defeated her.

The idol was gone, that fight was lost. Her mind was already looking towards how she was going to escape from this with her life. That was all that was left, fighting another day. There’d be other chances, other places, even to get the idol back.

“And you thought I’d given up. I told you before, Want. Take. Have.”

“Too bad they don’t know you like I do, Lehane.”

Faith Lehane smiled, a terrible-beautiful sight every time she saw it. “Yes, too bad. You could warn them… if only you spoke Hovitos.”

Dramatically, the other woman spun around and thrust the idol high into the air so the warriors could all see it. Whatever she said, it sent all of them to their knees, face pushed down into the earth.

Which was probably the one and only opportunity she was going to get. Right?

Willow was already up and running before they realised that she’d moved. In truth, Lehane probably didn’t care. She’d already got what she wanted.

Except, apparently, she was wrong because she was pretty sure those were the Hovitos words for ‘Kill her!’ that Lehane uttered in response to what had happened.

And then the chase was on…

A one sided, unfair, chase where her pursuers had bows and spears and darts while she had a hat, a whip, a jacket and a bra that was now far too big to be any use except for hurling rocks if she had time to take it off. Now wasn’t the time to think about ancient slingshot techniques though.

Because it was definitely a good thing she’d had that moment to catch her breath. This trip was turning out to be all about running. Running and dodging, never going in a straight line because – hell – these guys were good with all of their weapons. Even on the run. When you depended on those skills to survive, you got that way.

Just like she was a good runner.

She was also pretty good at navigating by instinct and – when she put her mind to it – could yell pretty loudly too.

“Jock! Start the plane!”

They’d already been after her for – maybe it was ten minutes – when she emerged from the tree line at the top of a long, slowly descending and grass covered hill down to the river. Right where she wanted to be. Perfect. Right? The Hovitos were in their element in the trees and she’d felt them swarming around her, hands grabbing but they weren’t nature’s fastest sprinters once they were in the open. In fact they were all sorts of wary and more than a few hung back at the trees and just used their bows to keep trying to kill her.

So that was okay. That was fine.

“Jock! Start the plane! Start the plane, Jock!”

Abandoning his fishing, the American pilot she’d hired before starting through the jungle got up from the pontoon and climbed up into the rear cockpit of the plane. Even running, she watched with relief as the exhaust belched black smoke and the propeller started to get up to speed. Mechanical failure was not an option, not now.

Once Jock saw the crowd of angry warriors who were running after her, he even started to taxi the plane down the river. She adjusted her direction, aiming for a tree by the edge of the river… Yeah, that’d do nicely.

Grabbing a vine that hung down from the ancient tree, she swung out into the middle of the river and let go. In the moment before she hit the water -

Well, I needed a bath anyway… even if it’s going to frizz up my hair more than the jungle humidity does.

She swam for the plane and Jock slowed down to let her get on board before he accelerated again. All the while, stone-age weapons attempted to pierce the hide of a twentieth-century animal.

Finally… finally… I’m going to sleep for a week.

Except, when she levered herself into the front cockpit there was an obvious problem and she lifted her feet up off the floor onto the seat, knees hugged to her much reduced chest.

“Jock! There’s a snake in the plane, Jock!”

“Don’t mind him, that’s my pet snake Riley.”

“I hate snakes, Jock. I hate them! I’m an archaeologist, all I see every day is phallic images and I don’t need a snake in the plane, Jock!”

“Come on, show a little backbone will ya?”

Hugging her knees to her chest, Doctor Willow Rosenberg determined that there was no way, no how, that they were going back on the floor of the cockpit. Not even if they stayed up here all day and all the way back to civilisation.

“I hate ‘em,” she said again, but mostly to herself.

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

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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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 Post subject: Re: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 2 - 02/0
PostPosted: Mon Feb 04, 2013 3:36 pm 
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Yay for excellent update-y goodness...

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 Post subject: Re: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 2 - 02/0
PostPosted: Mon Feb 04, 2013 10:39 pm 
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Katharyn and Chewster, Wha?? I didn’t know Eliza was in Indiana ..LOL That was a big bowl of AWESOME! I do remember there being a ton of crazy traps and near death experiences. Loved the booby trap for salt and snakes on a plane! OMG I was howling with laughter at the pet being named Riley!!

:grin This is frickin GREAT!


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 Post subject: Re: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 2 - 02/0
PostPosted: Tue Feb 05, 2013 8:47 pm 
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Zampsa - Thank you very much :)

Kajun - I thought that Faith's presence might have that effect, though it absolutely wasn't my idea. Now I can't even tease what will happen later without ruining the surprise but... suffice it to say this goes beyond cool as an idea and wasn't even mine (GRR).

Willow's salt in the bra thing will return as will the fear of snakes (which isn't just phallic!) And do you know, I'd forgotten to add Riley the snake to the character map. Oh, well. He won't be coming back!

Glad you're enjoying the ride.

Katharyn

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 Post subject: Re: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 2 - 02/0
PostPosted: Wed Feb 06, 2013 12:46 am 
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I have a feeling that this going to be the beginning of an extremely exciting story!!

Are you going to think less of me if I tell you that I haven't seen Raiders of the Lost Ark?? I've always wanted to, just never got the chance.

Anyways, I'm looking forward to what's in store. Plus, Willow in a fedora? YES. I'll take it, as long as Tara gets to sport one, too. :-)

Can't wait for the next installment!

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 Post subject: Re: Willow and Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 2 - 02/0
PostPosted: Wed Feb 06, 2013 10:56 am 
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Angie - Well, as I keep saying, we can't take the credit for an extremely exciting story this time around... that mostly comes from the movie.

However... since you've not watched it... please don't until you finish reading. You'll think we're great! Then go watch it ;) And certainly I don't think any the less of you. I sit here and wonder whether it's just something that passed you by or maybe it's a generation thing... Maybe I'm getting old and (if you're younger!) kids today don't watch good movies like that? LOL

Tara... doesn't actually wear a fedora in this, maybe I can get it into the (all original) sequel I am tentatively working on (not certain yet). However, Tara does make her appearance shortly... :)

Thanks! Check back tomorrow and I should have another part up.

Katharyn

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 Post subject: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 3 - 02/07/13
PostPosted: Thu Feb 07, 2013 11:29 am 
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Title: Tara and Willow – Raiders… – Part Three
Author: Katharyn Rosser & Chewster
Feedback: Absolutely, yes please. Love to engage in the discussion about the story.
Spoiler warning: Nope. And if you’ve not seen a film from 1980 then just tough luck, I’m not keeping it a secret. On the other hand, you’ll probably think we’re genius for such an amazing story.
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: We return to the university and Doctor Rosenberg receives visitors.
Disclaimer: We don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS, Raiders of the Lost Ark or Indiana Jones. All rights lie with the production companies, writers etc. We are making no money from this series of stories however any original characters and situations remain my property. As this is a retelling of Raiders of the Lost Ark and references other Indiana Jones films, a lot of dialogue and all of the plot has been taken from that movie. Other lines may have come from the script but were not seen in the movie and so could appear to be original when in fact credit belongs to the scriptwriter. Other elements are all the writers. It’s a complex mix and we will not be trying to allocate credit line by line.
Rating: Occasional, tasteful, adult situations and contextual bad language. However by and large equivalent to the movie.
Couples: Well, no one as we open, but Tara and Willow forever.
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: So, the last two parts pretty much followed what you were familiar with – and we’ll stay very close to that all the way through – but this one throws a pleasantly shaped spanner into the works…
Character map: This will only show characters so far revealed in the story, but just to keep things straight between this version and the canon…
Willow Rosenberg = Indiana Jones, Faith Lehane = Belloq
Thanks to: People – or person – who didn’t see Raiders and so thinks this is pretty spiffy… LOL. Here’s to pop culture ignorance, peep!



Teaching the same class for a few years did enable you to switch off to some extent. Which was fortunate, because Willow Rosenberg found that she was having significant trouble keeping her mind off the fact that Lehane had taken the idol from her.

After all that effort to get to it, she’d lost it to nothing more than. ‘Want. Take. Have.’

Second time the… woman had done that to her.

So was her inattention short-changing her students? Well, the ones who progressed to the more advanced class next semester would see her make up for it. Those who didn’t? Well, Professor Clarkson had been subbing for her while she’d been away in Peru and even at fifty percent of her attention, they were doing better now than they had with that old boy.

The last time Clarkson had been out in the field the telegraph had seemed new-fangled.

Besides, she had evidence to prove that her classes were appreciated. Not just the leaving of various pieces of fruit – and on one occasion a suggestive vegetable – but right now there was a young co-ed in the front row who, for the third time, was at it with the ‘Love You’ eyes.

Flattering that the girl must’ve gotten a friend to write that on her eyelids, but hardly her type. Not to mention the ethical complications that would’ve ensued. Pretty young things that still dated boys at the weekend but got all in a fluster because she happened to wear a tailored suit and crisp white shirt to work? No, not her type at all.

“So you see - ”

She paused as the door opened and in walked Professor Giles, nominally her boss but more like a family friend for just about her whole life. Dad had always collected interesting people around him. Or maybe they’d just been drawn to the old man, like moths to a flame. Trouble was, someone had to get burned.

And that’d be me.

Rupert gestured to her to please continue.

“So you see; no amount of hard work in the field is ever a substitute for research in advance and – by the way – let’s all remember that no matter what you find in all of your ever so extensive research, X never – ever – marks the spot.”

Perfect timing. That was the end of the class at just the right moment as the bell rang. Today’s fruit was an apple, which was good. She’d just been hankering after one. ‘Love You’ eyes was the last to leave and Willow gave her a smile that she hoped wasn’t too encouraging but also didn’t blank what the girl thought her feelings were. Do no harm – neither encourage nor crush them.

“I had it in my hand, Giles. Right in my hand.”

“What happened?”

“Lehane.”

“Ah, your nemesis.”

“Only because I refuse to play the game her way, old man.”

“Quite, quite,” Rupert said. “If you didn’t have ethics, standards and above all a heart that still beats in your chest, then I’m sure you’d never have fallen victim to her efforts.”

“Victim?”

“Perhaps I misspoke.”

“Just a little,” Willow confirmed. “I’m not a victim. Now, look at these – I picked them up in the temple.” Unwrapping the cloth containing her acquisitions, she showed them to Giles who brought them up closer to his face, clearly he needed new glasses. Again.

“Oh yes, they are quite beautiful.”

“I figure they’ve got to be worth at least the cost of a flight to Marrakech,” she said.

“You’ve only just got back and you want to abandon your students, again, and run off to Marrakech?” he asked, though he didn’t sound to be against the idea. “Oh, I do like this one. Found it just lying around you said?”

“Yes, and Marrakech. You know Lehane, she’ll want to sell it but in a place she can enjoy herself afterwards. There’s not that many cities with a market like that where she’s still welcome.”

“Something we might say about you too, hmm?” he teased.

Yes, there were a few places where she’d been named persona-non-grata but not as many as Faith Lehane. “It’s Marrakech. It has to be. And all these have to be at worth at least the price of a ticket.”

“Yes, of course, the university will buy them off you, but - ”

“And those men that were recommended?”

“Caused you some trouble did they?” Rupert asked.

“Well, yes, but did you know they never called me senorita? Not once? It was always senora.”

“They were probably trying to show respect,” he pointed out. “Now, I really - ”

“Ha!” Willow snorted. “Do I look like I’m that old? Do I look like a senora?”

He knew better, of course, he’d bounced her on his knee once upon a time.

“I don’t think it’s unreasonable for them to assume that a young lady your age might indeed be married, even if wandering around the jungle without a wedding band should’ve been a clue. How were they to know?”

He was probably right. “You were going to say… something?” she asked.

“Ah, yes, well – I brought some people along with me.”

“What kind of people?” she asked warily. Certainly it shouldn’t have been trouble, Rupert wasn’t exactly possessed of a keen danger sense, but he wouldn’t have invited the bad guys into the university because he certainly did have a very keen sense of propriety.

“Government,” Rupert told her.

“Government?” There was the small matter – several small matters – of minor infractions of import restrictions that had never been intended to cover certain centuries old articles.

And some ‘less than minor’ infractions too…

“Oh, I see what you mean. No, they’re from Army Intelligence actually.”

“Intelligence?”

“Yes, my reaction exactly.”

“Ha, ha, old man. Ha, ha.”

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

“The lecture hall?” she asked, only to be invited to enter by Rupert opening the door for her.

“Ah, Doctor Rosenberg!” The two Army Intelligence officers were older gentlemen, a Colonel Musgrove and a Major Eaton as they introduced themselves and they took seats on the dais, somewhat discomforted when she declined to sit down with them and stayed standing. Mobile. She’d been sitting for too long on the plane back from Lima, thankfully without a snake for company.

They also seemed a little out of sorts when it came to her suit. Probably because it was more expensive than either of theirs. Archaeology didn’t pay well, but it paid better when you dressed the part and when she was in the field… it was a different ball game to back here.

“How can I help you, Colonel?” Willow, knowing the military well enough, addressed herself to the senior of the pair.

“Well, Doctor, do you happen to know a Professor Joyce Summers?”

“Of course,” she acknowledged, wondering what on earth the Army could want with Joyce? And yes, there was a little relief in there in too, that it couldn’t really be anything to do with something she might’ve done. After all… “She was a family friends and I studied under her at Chicago, but I haven’t spoken in ten years or so. There was – I’m afraid there was a bit of a falling out.”

“So you know nothing of her whereabouts?” Eaton asked, perhaps not putting those factors together into a solid ‘no.’

Willow shook her head. “Just rumours through other colleagues who knew her. Somewhere in Asia, last I heard. She dropped off the map, stopped publishing and just… went away.”

It wasn’t unusual in academia, but she had to worry about her own part in those events, now that she was confronted with the question. It’d been years since she’d had to think about it.

But they didn’t ask about the nature of the differences between she and Joyce, which suggested that perhaps they already knew? Or that the military mind really didn’t care. Obviously they were disappointed at the negative answer though.

“What’s this about? What do you want with Joyce?”

Eaton shrugged at his junior officer. “Perhaps Doctor Rosenberg can make sense of it.”

Musgrove nodded, looked around the hall as if expecting spies to leap from the seats way at the back and then expressed his caution in words. “Well, you must appreciate that this is all strictly confidential, Doctor Rosenberg, Professor Giles.”

“Oh, quite.”

“Sure.”

“Yesterday, one of our European allies intercepted a Nazi communique from Cairo to Berlin. We don’t know quite what to make of it. Perhaps it will mean something to you.” He paused and took a moment to pull a sheet of paper from his briefcase and then read from it. “Here it is – ‘Tanis development proceeding. Acquire headpiece, Staff of Ra. Joyce Summers. U.S.’”

Even from so small a clue, she knew exactly what they were talking about of course, and so did Giles. They looked at each other. You only had to know Joyce for a little while to understand the depths of her obsession with that subject too.

“Tanis. They must’ve discovered the lost city.”

And there was no doubting that she was impressed. She had to be. That city had been swallowed by the desert back in the days of the Old Testament. To discover it again now after thousands of years under the sand… it must’ve taken a significant amount of effort. Or some lucky camel herder being in the right place at the right time. But of course the Nazi’s were all over the world now, sniffing out one thing or another to advance their twisted ideology if not their actual science.

“Frankly we’re a little suspicious. An American being mentioned so prominently in a secret Nazi cable. Woman or not.”

“Excuse me?”

“No offence,” Musgrove said quickly.

“Joyce Summers is no Nazi,” Giles said. “Trust me on that. Both Willow and I have known her for years.”

“Then what do they want her for?” Eaton asked.

“It tells you right there,” Willow said, waving at the piece of paper the Major was holding. “They’re looking for the headpiece to the Staff of Ra.”

“And what would the Nazis want with this – Staff of Rah?” the Colonel followed up, mispronouncing it.

She didn’t bother to correct him.

“Well,” Giles said. “Over the last two years, since soon after Hitler came to power really, they had teams of archaeologists running around the world looking for all kinds of religious artefacts, this has been clear to everyone who works in the field. They’ve bought the services of many of the most unscrupulous, both German and otherwise.”

“That’s right,” Musgrove said. “Hitler’s a nut on the subject and it’s not just archaeologists. He’s got people out there looking for lost tribes of Aryan’s to prove his own version of how the ‘Master Race’ came to be Germanic. He’s just as obsessed with the occult though, which is where we figure this comes in?”

To Willow it sounded like the men from Intelligence had been reading Hitler’s mail. She waved the assumption through. Probably, yes.

“What is this Staff of Ra, anyway?”

“Well, it’s the piece – it has to do with locating the Ark of the Covenant,” Willow said, not encouraged when the men from the War Department looked mystified. Whatever happened to a classical education? Or just basic church attendance? “Come on, the chest that the Hebrews used to carry around the Ten Commandments. Yeah, right?”

Absolutely, they got it now.

“The Ark was held in Jerusalem for many years, but then an Egyptian Pharaoh invaded and stole it. He took it back to the city of Tanis in Egypt. A short time later Tanis was consumed by the desert in a sandstorm that lasted a whole year. But before that, the Pharaoh – perhaps understanding what he was dealing with – had the Ark hidden away in a secret chamber called the Well of Souls. Which is where the Staff of Ra comes in.”

Once again, she could see that she’d lost them. Okay, well, this lecture hall had a blackboard. She put up a quick drawing on the board, to give them some idea what he was talking about.

“The staff itself was really just a cane or a stick about – oh – yay long. Phallic, of course, but what can you do?” She held her hands up to show the height, though no one really knew what that had been, important as it was. Both of them had crossed their legs. “No one really knows for sure. Anyway, it was capped with a rather more elaborate headpiece. Typically.” She drew the more bulbous part on top of the staff and looked at Giles, seeing if he had anything to add, but he seemed content to let her get on with it.

“And what you did, was you took the staff to a special map room which had a miniature of the whole city laid out on the floor. It did you no good to have the headpiece alone, you needed the map room to make it work and at a certain spot, at a certain time of day, the sun would shine through a hole here in the headpiece and send a beam of light down here – to the map – giving you the location of the Well of Souls.”

“Which is where the Ark of the Covenant was kept?”

Willow nodded, considering the implications, but they were really very simple. “Which is what the Nazis must really after. The staff means nothing on its own, it can only be used to find the Ark. Joyce Summers was the real expert though.”

The two men considered what she’d said and once again there was a silent communication between them. They didn’t exactly seem surprised.

“What did this Ark look like?”

“Umm, here, there’s a picture in - ” She paused, pulled the large book – an illustrated bible - from the lecturn and flipped through it until. “Yes, there.” She backed off to let them pour over it. She had nearly every etching from the book committed to memory. They weren’t subtle. This one had the Israelites carrying the Ark into battle, and before them… their enemies had been slain by its power.

“Good God.”

“Yes, that’s what the Hebrews thought,” she said.

“And what’s that supposed to be coming out of there?” Musgrove asked.

Willow shrugged. “Who knows? Lightning. Fire. The Power of God.”

“I’m beginning to understand Hitler’s interest in this thing,” Eaton said.

“Oh yes,” Giles said. “An army that marches with the Ark at its head would be all but invincible.”

“The bible has it levelling mountains and laying waste to entire regions,” Willow added.

“You don’t sound convinced, Doctor Rosenberg. These are your people, aren’t they?”

She ignored the casual assumption and the ‘education’ that lay behind the words. Not only was she an unmarried woman but also Jewish?

“Well, Doctor Rosenberg,” Eaton said, recovering from his colleague’s lapse. “You’ve been very helpful, I hope we can call on your again if we have questions.”

“Most certainly - ” Willow started to say, having more time for the Colonel than his subordinate. “Look, you came here looking for answers, but you’re going away needing someone to do something about this.”

“We have some top men ready to - ”

“Top men, of course.”

“We have to put our best - ”

I’m the best,” Willow said with no false modesty. At least the best that the US Government could consider hiring. The others were… either much less patriotic, foreign or… frankly old and more used to brushing sand away with a brush.

“Certainly you come highly recommended but - ” Eaton started to explain what it was that held him back from just asking her, but he was cut off by the sound of high heels crossing the polished floor. A woman’s voice.

“Oh, don’t worry. She’s tougher than she looks,” the woman said.

Willow didn’t need to look around to know who it was. It was a voice she hadn’t heard in a while now.

“Well, that’s quite a recommendation,” Eaton said, clearly more impressed by her now he’d had that confirmed by the newcomer.

“Tara Maclay,” Willow breathed. “Figures.”

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

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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 3 - 02/07/
PostPosted: Thu Feb 07, 2013 1:02 pm 
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Yay for excellent update-y goodness... So I guess Willow & Tara are going to find Buffy & headpiece next... Can't wait to read more about Willow's past with Tara...

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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 3 - 02/07/
PostPosted: Thu Feb 07, 2013 4:36 pm 
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Ahhh....Tara Maclay in heels...I think that may be better than the fedora, LOL.

And I love the rapport between Giles and Willow. His memory of bouncing little Willow on his knee made me smile.

And now that I feel like I am the only person on the planet who hasn't seen this movie, LOL, I shall wait patiently for the next chapter!

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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 3 - 02/07/
PostPosted: Fri Feb 08, 2013 2:19 am 
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Zampsa - You make reasonable assumptions. Though they're not going to be on their way quite yet... :) We'll get to a little of what you're interested in during the next part.

Angie That was written when I hadn't really thought about what I was doing (the heels thing) but once the image was there... umm, not letting it go. Wait until it gets completed in the next part and you will see why the 'heels' were a little off. But So long as they're still kind of sensible... works.

I had to have Giles in that role after who played the same role (Marcus) in the movie version (Denholm Elliott) also being British.

The movie will please you but somehow will lack the Willow and Tara goodness :) Though, I'd love to hear your thoughts of the comparison after... resurrect the thread if you have to!

Thanks!

Katharyn

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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 3 - 02/07/
PostPosted: Fri Feb 08, 2013 7:43 am 
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I really love this story!! I can't wait to know Tara's character and there past relationship have or had together because i thought she'll play Marion in the movie?

Great Update can't wait for more!!!!


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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 3 - 02/07/
PostPosted: Fri Feb 08, 2013 8:49 am 
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Hiya Katharyn Sorry I've been a little slow with feedback here as this is only for the first two chapters and now you've gone and put up the third already, I guess I'll just have to play catch-up :p

Thoroughly enjoyed the introductory note from film historian, and of course noted director, Alan Smithee which shed some previously unknown light on one of my all time favourite films . :p

because he couldn’t look beyond a pair of breasts that seemed larger now than they had when she’d hired him back in Lima.

Hmmm Willow breast's :drool

I feel I should let you know here that at any mention of Willow's or Tara's bodies I drool, sometimes three or four times a feedback. It's making my keyboard very sticky. :p

For every Sallah or Wu Han, there were five or six Barranca’s out there.

I like the references to Wu Han from ToD here, played by David Yip if memory serves, and to Sallah before he actually turns up in the adventure.

Wonder if we'll get to see a slightly tougher than normal Tara running a bar in Nepal or will they still be together after ToD where she would have been the Willie Scott character.

Really like the concept of this story with Willow as heroic treasure hunter Indiana Jones. The two chapters I've read so far really bought the film to life for me in my head, if you get what I mean and I can't wait to read the rest of the story. A big YAY to Willow (Indiana) Rosenberg.


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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 3 - 02/07/
PostPosted: Sun Feb 10, 2013 1:50 am 
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Hey, thanks.

Willow_friendly - I'm very pleased you like it. For me (at least) it was a bit of a throwaway, something to do for a break from my main fic, but it grew into more than that and - as I have suggested - I can see the possibility of original sequels now which only happens when I am liking it myself :) And no, Tara isn't playing Marion. She's an original character and actually - you will see - kind of makes sense she needs to be there even compared to canon. Thanks

Willotaralover - See, now you're probably spoiled as to chapter 3 but I shall assume you've read 3 by the time you see this :) Stop now if you've not!

You are clearly educated in film (or at least geeky like me!) So yes, Alan Smithee being the name directors put on films when they don't want it in their own name! (for benefit of others...)

LOL, I made a thing of the 'breasts' or the 'bags of salt' that were responsible. Honestly, it's good jungle planning! That's all! :)

I like that you caught the Wu Han thing... ToD was a painful experience, but necessary to imagine the girls going through it. And Sallah will be Sallah... Who can replace John Rhyss Davies!

As for Tara... as of Chapter 3, you will see she's not Marion and my reply above suggests she's not Willie Scott. (Definitely not Willie Scott though... could've been interesting!)

Thanks so much!

Katharyn

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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 4 - 02/10/1
PostPosted: Sun Feb 10, 2013 4:23 am 
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Title: Tara and Willow – Raiders… – Part Four
Author: Katharyn Rosser & Chewster
Feedback: Absolutely, yes please. Love to engage in the discussion about the story.
Spoiler warning: Nope. And if you’ve not seen a film from 1980 then just tough luck, I’m not keeping it a secret. On the other hand, you’ll probably think we’re genius for such an amazing story.
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: Tara has vouched Willow, kind of makes you think they know each other… right? We’ll get into a little of how as we go along…
Disclaimer: We don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS, Raiders of the Lost Ark or Indiana Jones. All rights lie with the production companies, writers etc. We are making no money from this series of stories however any original characters and situations remain my property. As this is a retelling of Raiders of the Lost Ark and references other Indiana Jones films, a lot of dialogue and nearly all of the plot has been taken from that movie. Other lines may have come from the script but were not seen in the movie and so could appear to be original when in fact credit belongs to the scriptwriter. Other elements are all the writers. It’s a complex mix and we will not be trying to allocate credit line by line.
Rating: Occasional, tasteful, adult situations and contextual bad language. However by and large equivalent to the movie.
Couples: Well, no one as we open, but Tara and Willow forever.
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: We’re into original material (after a fashion) for this scene and an original character here in Tara who didn’t of course, exist in the real Raiders and as such we do need to introduce her character, though we’ll get more on her background as we progress. Now you might be saying ‘But – but – I thought Tara would be Marion’ (or maybe you’re not saying that since we named Joyce as the Abner Ravenwood stand-in.)
Well, no. There’s stuff in that Indy/Marion relationship dynamic in canon that was actually a little… umm, exploitative and we didn’t want to write around. Also, this way is MUCH more fun. Trust us. And it is 100% FAQ compliant. Do not attempt to second guess where we’re going or feel afraid of it…
Katharyn (who now has to refer to herself in the third person in joined up notes GRRR) is also in uncharted territory. I (f*ck it, just I) hate not knowing how long a part will be before I start. I want to structure towards natural scene breaks. However, actually, the scene changes in movies are much faster than novels/fan fic. As such I almost have to just give you a number of ‘chunks’ as there’s kind of a mini-climax in every scene. Well, most of them.
We should note that the history of Nazi Germany is messed around with (as it was in the movies) in terms of the years things happened and what was known in the wider world.
And talking of climaxes… (That’s a really bad lead in, since it’s for a later scene not the first one you read below…)
Character map: This will only show characters so far revealed in the story, but just to keep things straight between this version and the canon…
Willow Rosenberg = Indiana Jones, Tara Maclay = Tara Maclay, Rupert Giles = Marcus Brody, Faith Lehane = Belloq, Riley = The never to be seen again snake in the plane, Joyce Summers = Abner Ravenwood.
Thanks to:


“So when was the last time you were in my bedroom, Rupert?” Willow asked.

“I – I’m quite sure you were about six years old.”

“Ten,” she corrected. “You read to me from the Iliad.”

“Every day for two weeks, while your father was away,” he recalled.

“In Greek,” she pointed out.

“You did, finally, get it,” Rupert told her. “Though I like the place better now.” What had prompted the question was that he’d been moving around, prodding at things. Looking, like any archaeologist would, at the setting in which he found himself. Even an archaeologist who’d been absent from the field for some years. Ensconced in academia.

But there were treasures hidden here that he wasn’t supposed to unearth. It was a lady’s bedroom, after all.

Or it could’ve been. If she’d been a ‘lady.’

“Well?” she asked, taking her hat from him as she packed. She’d only been hoping and even if this didn’t come off, there was always Marrakech.

“They want you to go for it,” Rupert told. “And they’ll pay.”

“Good work, great work! I knew you could do this.” It had seemed like there’d be no choice, but getting them to agree to it… It’d needed her to leave the room to let the men work things.

Men plus… one woman.

“Actually – it wasn’t really - ”

“And the museum? The museum gets the Ark when we’re done?” she followed up. It might be the height of optimism, but it was the Ark… the agreement had to be ironclad. He’d have realised that and dealt with things carefully… right?

“Of course!” His excitement over that little fact overwhelmed his need, for a moment, to say anything else about how he’d managed to get the men from Army Intelligence to go along with this.

But how much of it had been the influence of the much younger woman from the Naval Intelligence branch?

Tara Maclay.

Tara had vouched for her in there right when they’d been about to walk away, but had she been decisive? Possibly there was only one way to find out.

“So where will you start?” Rupert asked as she discarded her Marrakech plans and focused solely on the bigger picture.

Just think, a few days coming back from Peru and she might’ve missed this, the biggest thing the field had seen in… essentially forever.

“Joyce, of course. She’ll be in danger now, but I think I have a line on where I can find her. A better one than the Nazi’s will have anyway.”

“You do appreciate that as a Jewish-American woman, they’re unlikely to be sympathetic to you?” Rupert’s voice was laced with concern. Three years since Hitler came to power and Germany, one of the powerhouses of the scientific community, had fallen completely under the control of the nightmare. Men and women they’d both respected and corresponded with – Jewish or not – either forced from their tenure and into exile or joining up in the service of the greater Nazi ideal.

And some… some hadn’t been heard from again.

Those who hadn’t even been out in the field and run afoul of something else.

“The last thing I need is their sympathy,” Willow said as she considered the next item to pack. There was no point in taking too much. As was usual in these situations, she’d end up ditching more than she could carry – or losing it. No valuables outside of sentimental attachments and practical considerations.

“Quite. But – you know, this is really rather exciting. Five years ago, I’d have gone after it myself.”

Make that twenty-five and in the company of a number of jolly good chaps. Nothing wrong with that, it was just who her old friend was. Convivial, intelligent and wise. But not suited to this task. The man had once gotten lost in his own museum, let alone out in the field.

She pushed the whip into the bag. She was sentimentally attached to that, but it came in damned useful. No one ever expected a bullwhip. No one. Or even understood the uses to which it could be put.

“Do you think she’ll still be with her? With Joyce?” she asked, hesitating. There were a couple of things about all this that did give her pause. And they were nothing to do with either the archaeology or the danger.

Women.

“Probably,” he admitted. “Look, Willow, be careful. This isn’t like anything you’ve done before.”

“Sure - ”

“No, it’s not. The history. The powers of the Ark – the consequences if you were to fail…”

“Hey, old man, who’s failing?” She didn’t happen to believe that the Ark was all the things that it was said to be, but she did believe that it was real. A golden chest, containing stone tablets? Sure, why not? Box of horrible death and lightning bolts? Not so much.

“Quite. But please do be careful.”

Willow pushed her gun into the top of the bag. Just to make the point. “Hey, you know what a cautious girl I am.”

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

“You can come out now,” she said after Rupert had left.

That familiar click of the sensible heels as Tara Maclay crossed the hardwood floors. It didn’t take much imagination to visualise just how her ass had been wiggling the last time she’d run into this woman wearing heels either. “He knew you had someone here?”

“He guessed.”

“My perfume, I presume?” Tara guessed.

“Amongst other things.” She shrugged. “He knows my reputation.”

“I thought discretion might be the better part of valour and all that,” Tara said, tapping the end of a cigarette against the gold case that… Willow recognised it. I gave her that. In Delhi. Not as valuable as it appeared, but… Tara had kept it.

“Not in here, please,” she said.

Tara raised an eyebrow as she walked into the room but put it away.

“So this is the great Doctor Rosenberg’s bedroom. I don’t suppose it sees many visitors. Aren’t most of your girls ‘on the road’, as it were?”

“Stories of my conquests have been greatly exaggerated,” she point out, trying to ignore the obvious attraction she was feeling. Giddy excitement wasn’t something that sat well with her image but… it was there, all the same. Running around like a puppy would’ve been possible.

Tara Maclay… Tara Maclay in a uniform skirt and with her hair tied back just… All she wanted to do was reach out and let that hair free, free to hang around Tara’s face.

Free to hang around my face. And not the only thing that’d be hanging. Things. Parts. Hands in interesting places.

“If you say so,” Tara said.

How to respond to that? “I haven’t seen you since Delhi, I thought, somehow, I might.”

Last year. And it’d seemed like a long year in some regards. Like this one.

“That’s right, Doctor. Delhi.”

Delhi… Where one day, after everything they’d been through in and out of the bedroom, Tara Maclay had melted into the crowds and out of her life.

Which is usually my trick. It’d been interesting to experience it from the other side. And frustrating as hell for all sorts of reasons, not the least of which was that she hadn’t been half done with a woman she’d grown more than fond of during their shared adventure from Shanghai to Pankot palace and back to Delhi.

“Doctor?” Willow asked. “You didn’t used to be so formal, Lieutenant Commander.”

“What he didn’t tell you - ?” Tara said, not backing off as Willow moved closer to her. Closer to that delicious scent and what was that perfume anyway?

“Tell me what?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Doctor Rosenberg.”

“You used to call me Willow,” she said, guessing Tara was trying to stay professional when she felt anything but.

“I used to call you Rosenberg.”

“You called me Willow towards the end… in Delhi.” Closer still, there was no reason for two people to be so close except one. So close they could feel each other’s breath. Almost hear her heart beating.

“Doctor will be just fine. Or Rosenberg if you prefer.”

“Are you along for the ride then?” It was a guess, but it made sense in the face of this professionalism. Tara Maclay wasn’t made for sitting behind a desk. Though she’d have looked quite beautiful there, just like she did anywhere else. And the uniform and the skirt… truly suited her. Not as luxurious as the dress she’d been given at Pankot but… that had taken Tara out of her element.

This was better.

“No, Doctor,” Tara corrected. “I’m not along for the ride. You are. This is my mission. That’s what your friend Doctor Giles - ”

“Professor Giles.”

“That’s what your friend Professor Giles forgot to tell you.”

“No, he didn’t forget, he just neglected to,” she replied. As to what Tara had announced? Who was in charge? For now she was willing to let that slide. The girl could think what she liked. Navy. Always kind of delusional but they had the best uniforms… Oh yes, they did. Tara had confirmed it for her. She’d been looking forwards to it for a while. “You don’t call. You don’t write,” she said.

“I’ve been busy,” Tara said. “If you’ve not noticed we’re building up towards another war if the Nazi’s and the Japanese continue as they are.”

“Well, we’ve all been busy,” Willow reached up to touch her cheek. “But I thought we had something, doll.”

“Don’t call me ‘d-doll,’” Tara said, shaking her head. “And this right here, this is why I call you Doctor Rosenberg. We need to maintain a p-professional relationship.”

“Hmm, and how is it – exactly – that professionals conduct a relationship? Do they only do it at the office?”

“Stop,” Tara said as the touch turned to a caress and then slipped back into her hair, seeking the pins that held it in place.

“I used to think I preferred you in pants,” Willow said. “But… the uniform has its compensations.” Her other hand was sliding the skirt upwards, bunching it. “I’ve always hoped to see you in uniform, one day. Buy you a drink.”

“Stop,” Tara said weakly.

“Say it again, Lieutenant Commander. Say it one more time… and I’ll know you mean it.”

But the naval officer didn’t say a word.

At least not until she’d sighed, moaned and gasped…

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

So what could she tell herself?

That it was easier to pull her hat down over her eyes? No, what sort of answer was that?

Travel could get to anyone; spending days on various planes making their way from the East Coast of the US, over to the west and from there to Hawaii had been rough enough. Factor in the flight down to Wake and the fact that they still had a quarter of the distance around world to travel and… Yeah, she might be able to understand why Tara – sorry, that was Lieutenant Commander Maclay - was being standoffish with her.

Or maybe it really was what had happened back at her house before they’d even set off. Since they’d given her the job there’d been that one night and then the rest of the time had been spent on the journey.

Tara had known what she was getting into, of course. They’d known each other in every way back in India last year and… in her mind she’d always had something different planned if they ran into each other again. But, even though it had started promisingly, so much for thinking they might pick up right where they left off though.

Even if bed was where they’d parted that time too. When Tara had snuck quietly out… Of course, on that occasion, Tara had left her something to remember her by too. She’d never had reason to wonder whether it’d just been the relief or another kind of adventure. They’d had a connection and Tara’s gift had confirmed it.

Never had cause to wonder until now… that was.

Finally though, she just had to ask. “So, are you going to be cold and aloof the whole way there?” She was leaning sideways to keep their conversation somewhat private. If Tara could’ve had another seat, on the other side of the plane, Willow was pretty sure that might’ve been her preference.

And she’d lost the uniform too, now that they’d left US territories where it was a passport rather than a hindrance. On balance Tara in pacific theatre whites had been less impressive than the Atlantic black but… either had been very different to her current outfit. Instead she was wearing civilian clothes, good looking civilian clothes. Of course, Willow had always known she had good taste.

Better taste than me, at least.

“I’m not being aloof,” Tara told her firmly.

“See, there you go again.”

“Believe me, this isn’t me being aloof. You’d know if I was being aloof.”

“Professional then? Is that what we’re calling it? Look, honey, I just - ”

“Please don’t call me ‘honey’, Doctor Rosenberg. Or ‘doll’ or ‘sweetie’ or – well, anything like that.”

“Okay, sure, Lieutenant Commander Maclay. Sure. I just want to know where we stand because, last I checked, we weren’t standing at all. Seemed a lot like lying down and doll, we weren’t sleeping.”

Somehow, she just couldn’t help herself. The things she was driven too with Tara. Picking up where they left off with barely a ‘hello’, then challenging her to admit feelings that didn’t seem to be there. Smooth… Wanting to kiss her every damn time she lifted up her eyes and their gazes met.

“Do you really want to know?” Tara asked.

“Yes, I really want to know. I mean what is it? Are you embarrassed? Have I got bad breath?” Because I know you enjoyed it every bit as much as I did. It was like… It really was like they’d never been apart. They’d needed each other. They’d needed that time together and what it had done for them – God, yes, she’d needed what it’d done for her.

A girl can take care of herself, but it’s a whole load better if someone else takes care of it for her.

And from the heights of those passions into the depths of… whatever this was. Tara had spent most of the trip doing crosswords and reading books that she tore through and then gave away to her fellow passengers. She was obviously intending to travel light, which was good. That bag of hers must’ve been just filled with books.

Tara sighed. “Oh, for goodness sake. It’s nothing to do with – Look, the man, in the back row, left hand aisle seat – no, don’t look!”

Willow forced herself to stay still, after all they were trapped on a plane for the next ten hours. He wasn’t going anywhere. But yeah, she really, really wanted to look now Tara had said something. And actually – she didn’t want to point it out – Tara had actually said ‘look.’

“What about him?”

“He was on the flight from San Francisco to Hawaii.”

“And?” She knew what the ‘and’ was, but better that Tara was talking to her because this still didn’t explain anything about them.

“And he was on the flight from Hawaii to Wake. Now he’s - ”

“Once you get to Wake, there’s not exactly a lot to stick around for. He could be going anywhere.”

“He’s an agent.”

“Takes one to know one, I guess.”

“You’re right, maybe it does.”

“So… we didn’t ever think that this would go smoothly and without a hitch,” Willow pointed out. They’d talked about plenty of code words and back up plans in case of separation etc. And she happened to know that Tara had about one thousand dollars of assorted currencies secreted about her person.

She’d just been hoping to have another chance to find out exactly where.

I put salt in my brassiere, last time out. What have you got? Gold coins? Must be uncomfortable.

“Not with you involved, no,” Tara said.

“Hey! I think I resent that.”

“Well, that’s your tough luck now, isn’t it?”

Why was this so hard? Okay, they’d met in what might be considered a stressful situation and followed that up with more and more stressful situations, but somehow – along the way – they’d found a connection with each other and parted on good terms.

Hadn’t they? Seemed like it, from the meeting they’d had when Tara Maclay had walked back into her life, stood up for her and probably helped win her this opportunity of a lifetime. Then… well, then they’d reconnected in other – physical – ways too. It’d felt like a first time for both of them in a long while.

So maybe it had been simple need?

But now?

“So, I’m not even going to get a kiss?”

“You’re absolutely right, you’re not.”

“Okay, so what do you want to talk about for the next few hours? Or are you just going to do more crossword puzzles?”

Tara pursed her lips, reacting to the criticism she’d laced the question with. Yeah, okay, I’m feeling a little bitchy. I think I have cause.

“No,” Tara said. “You’re right. We should talk.”

“Oh. Well… good.” I think. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Is there anything I need to know about you and Professor Summers?”

“You mean aside from the fact I’ve known her my whole life?” she asked.

“I mean the part where you’ve not spoken for ten years and actually, it’s twelve,” Tara supplied.

“Well, if you know that, then you know what it was probably about – don’t you?” Willow challenged, sitting straighter, but keeping her voice low enough it wouldn’t carry to the man Tara had spotted at the back of the plane.

“The daughter?”

“That’d be her.”

“You slept with her?” Tara asked mildly as if she was just professionally interested.

Is that what this is all about?

“No! Absolutely not - I mean, not like you mean. Yes, I slept with her all the time – when we were kids. I mean, I practically lived at their house when my Dad was away.”

“So?”

So why the disagreement then? That was what Tara was asking and though she might’ve hoped that there was some personal motivation behind the question, Willow couldn’t dispute that there was also a professional need to know at work. As an experienced agent from US Naval Intelligence, Tara Maclay did need to know what she was getting herself into.

“So… there was a disagreement,” Willow said. “Things I did. Things I didn’t do. Don’t worry, she’ll tell you all about it if we run into her.”

“But d-do I need to worry about it?” Tara asked.

“No. You don’t.”

“Okay then,” Tara conceded, willing to allow her that amount of privacy.

“And – for the record - I absolutely did not sleep – in that way – with Joyce’s daughter.”

“I said, okay.”

“I just wanted it to be really clear – because, this isn’t an ex-girlfriend we might run into. If she’s there.”

“But?” Tara asked, sensing it.

“If we do run into her daughter then… you might not want to make our history obvious. Just a thought…”

Was that all they were? History?

“B-believe me, Doctor Rosenberg, it wasn’t going to be how I introduced myself to anyone.”

“Good to know. So… What do you want to do about the Nazi in the back row?” Willow wondered.

“Do?” Tara asked. “We’re over the Pacific. Unless you want to throw him out of the plane?”

It seemed a like a reasonable question, given the events not long after they’d first met.

Willow glanced back, camouflaging it as much as she could. And she ended up meeting the bald, bespectacled man’s eyes all the same as he peered at her over his newspaper.

A leather coat, despite the distance travelled and still to be covered, rested over his lap.

Yeah, he looked like anyone’s idea of a Nazi. But that wasn’t enough evidence to throw him out of a plane.

“Hold on,” she said.

“What – what are you doing? Will - Rosenberg!” Tara’s grab for her arm failed to connect and she headed to the back of the plane.

“Making sure,” Willow said. Looked like a Nazi. Sweated like a Nazi. Maybe he’s going to sound like Nazi too?

“Hey, Mac, got a light?” she asked, bending beside the man they suspected. Not that she doubted Tara’s judgement but it was best to be certain. Besides, she wanted to look this guy in the eyes. It’d be good if he knew that she knew. And that she knew he knew she knew. Then they’d all know where they stood.

Or sat, right now.

“I do not smoke,” he replied in a plainly European voice which almost sounded as if he knew the game was up

“Okay, thanks. Auf weidersein.”

“Weidersein.”

Yeah, exactly, Mac.

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

No matter where they ended up on this trip, it’d already been like taking a step back in time, Tara had thought.

Just over a year before, Willow Rosenberg had walked out of her life – no, that wasn’t exactly fair, she’d walked out of Rosenberg’s life. The point was that the good Doctor had been wearing that same leather jacket, a very similar shirt, boots and pants she’d gone to change into now.

Oh, and the hat.

Rosenberg never went anywhere without that hat. Offering to buy her another hadn’t helped either. In India they’d been to all sorts of lengths to make sure the hat was okay. Sometimes at the risk of their own lives.

But… she couldn’t argue with the results.

Not about the look the fedora gave her nor what she’d seen that Willow Rosenberg could accomplish.

She’d stood up for Doctor Rosenberg, traded on the Secretary’s good opinion of her to get him to weigh in and support consulting Willow Rosenberg as long as there hadn’t been anything overt to suggest she might with Doctor Summers and in league with Nazi’s. She’d never doubted it, but that had been the compromise she’d had to make. Her army counterparts had been there to make that judgement.

One way or another, she knew that the Doctor wouldn’t let her down.

That was the (other) great thing about her. She got the job done. Always. Maybe in a roundabout way and after way too much excitement. But the job got done. She may not have believed the reputation that had built around Doctor Rosenberg in certain circles – any of the reputations – but she’d seen the results for herself.

This woman would like to believe that fame and glory were her motivations – and she did clearly want to be thought of as the best and most daring woman in her field – but in truth there was nobility about what she did too.

Keeping ancient objects out of the hands of unscrupulous people who’d lock them away from the public in some bank vault or private collection. Sharing knowledge. Teaching. She’d actually snuck into the back of Rosenberg’s last class before they left and you could see why they were packed out. Her students put up with a lot, of course, since she was frequently away for weeks or months at short notice.

But still they came.

And it was because she was a great teacher too.

How many of Doctor Rosenberg’s rivals - the serious rivals whose degree of seriousness was shown off by their lethal intent – still taught?

Not many, she’d be willing to wager.

And thinking of rivals, they were going to have to do something about that Nazi. Not that he’d taken any action to thwart or frustrate them so far, but she had no intention of leading him all the way from Shanghai to Nepal and right to the door of Professor Joyce Summers.

And her daughter… Whatever was going on there. Even if Rosenberg denied they’d ever been intimate, there was… something.

Even so, it was proving difficult to stay angry – no, not angry more… aloof from her.

I shouldn’t have let her take me to bed.

I was carried away. She carried me away… and I needed her… I’ve needed her too long already.


“Feel better for that?” she asked as Rosenberg returned to her seat carrying a bundle of clothes she’d recently been wearing for the flight so far.

“Why?” the other woman asked. “Don’t you think I look better?”

“Better? No,” Tara said. “More comfortable, absolutely.” She reached over and straightened the fedora. It was a game they’d used to play. She’d find the right angle for it and Rosenberg would move it again and – there she went.

“You’re looking more comfortable yourself there, Lieutenant Commander,” she said.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it for approval. Last time around they’d all been caught on the hop, only equipped with what they could carry. Back then Rosenberg had a kid – Short Round - to carry their stuff, so she’d had the hat, whip and all her gear while she’d had… nothing but a few dollars and the dress she’d been wearing when Rosenberg and that blonde singer had dropped into her life from the window they’d jumped out of.

Literally dropped into her life... Three seconds later… Someone else’s car? Maybe just the getaway car Short Round had been driving. Three seconds that changed the world…

This time though? She’d changed, she was wearing a very comfortable and practical ensemble. Dark pants, a black silk blouse and carrying a jacket for protection against the cold.

“You know we’re going somewhere it snows, right princess?” Rosenberg asked her, looking her over. It was a comment on the black, of course. Standing out against the snow.

“Actually, I heard that when it really snows up there, you can’t even see your hand in front of your face.”

“Maybe, but it’s not always snowing. They’ve never sent you off into the mountains before?”

Actually, no. Most of her work had been at least vaguely connected to the ocean and it was hard to think of anywhere less connected to the ocean than Nepal. Landlocked, thousands of miles from blue water and of no strategic significance whatsoever. Certainly not in naval terms.

It was a land blessed with snow, lots of mountains and hardy local people you could – once they were on your side – trust to the end of the earth itself.

So, since some of those people would likely have been hired by their enemies, it was reassuring to see Willow Rosenberg back to the person she’d been in India last year.

Also, with the whip and the revolver, she looked more prepared.

Of course, she was carrying a weapon of her own. “Tell me,” Rosenberg said, peering at her .45 Automatic. “Just where were you hiding that while we’ve been on the plane.”

“Certainly not where you were thinking,” Tara said. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Me?” her partner asked, feigning innocence. “Doll, my mind wasn’t in the gutter. It was between your legs.” She winked and then was reaching for their bags, leaving Tara stood behind her musing on the fact that the only holster she had ever worn strapped to her inner thigh had been for a measly .22. Somehow though, she couldn’t find a way to say it. It was the outfit, she was sure it was the outfit. It was like Willow became someone else when she was wearing it.

The real Willow Rosenberg.

The Rosenberg I fell for. Could I have been so ‘professional’ with her if she’d been wearing that the whole way?

Making… love, in her bedroom before they left. Maybe that had been a mistake or maybe not. But it’d almost been like a mistake made with another person, not the one who had gotten off the plane with her.

And perhaps not with the person she’d known in India. They were both a year older. They’d both been through different things.

“Are you ready?” Tara asked as they prepared to disembark, blushing at where Rosenberg had taken things. But, what had she expected? This was the same woman that had seduced her, loved her and left her.

Made me leave her… Before she left me. Pride made me walk away, before she did.

She glanced back to where the German was still sat, still reading that everlasting newspaper that he’d still not exhausted.

“Doll, I was born ready.”

“Don’t call me doll.”

“Sure, Tara.”

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

_________________
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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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Last edited by Katharyn on Mon Feb 11, 2013 1:13 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 3 - 02/07/
PostPosted: Sun Feb 10, 2013 9:47 am 
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Yay for great update-y goodness... Good to read more about how Willow met Tara and what kind of history they have... I guess Willow's friendship with Buffy ended badly, maybe Buffy is not so gay-friendly...

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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 3 - 02/07/
PostPosted: Mon Feb 11, 2013 1:04 pm 
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Katharyn & Co, I forgot about Joyce being involved in the art world. That’s fits in pretty nicely here. Of course, now I have to worry if she’s okay or met an untimely death at the hands of the evil doers.. or joined them. As I said, most of the movie is a vague memory --I prefer being surprised anyway! It’s funny that Giles and Willow nearly finish each other’s sentences. As long as Willow doesn’t start wearing tweed it’s all good. LOL Uh oh.. Dr Rosenberg doesn’t sound too pleased with Tara’s arrival. All I can think is.. those aren’t bags of salt! LOL

ARG.. I just realized part 4 has already been posted. You didn't change the title yet! I'll catch up, promise.. :)


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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 4 - 02/10/
PostPosted: Mon Feb 11, 2013 1:33 pm 
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Zampsa - Thanks! We'll gradually tease out more about their history without having a big exposition dump for it. And yeah, for Buffy to fill the Marion role, something happened between her and Willow. Certainly not the reason you speculated though!

Kajun - Yeah, sorry, must've got distracted with my numbers... Changed it now.

Joyce in the art world... we forgot! Happy coincidence! I didn't think about that at all and neither did Chewster. It was more about Buffy being Marion and Joyce/Abner parallels... Yeah, that works too!! Good call. So Ira Rosenberg is the Henry Jones (Sean Connery from Last Crusade role) and a languages expert and (Jewish) Holy Grail seeker (LOL). Joyce is Abner Ravenwood, trekking around the world digging up all this stuff...

Giles - as Marcus - has been around Willow (and Buffy) nearly their whole lives as kids... at least being back at 'home base'

And as you will see in part 4... Willow's actually quite pleased LOL

Quickly getting more pleased!

Thanks
Katharyn

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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 4 - 02/10/
PostPosted: Tue Feb 12, 2013 2:00 am 
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I was wondering if there's going to be more about why Tara is angry or annoyed with Willow when shes the the one walked out on her.


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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 4 - 02/10/
PostPosted: Tue Feb 12, 2013 10:37 am 
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Willow_friendly - Oh, she's not annoyed. In fact she's just trying to do her job - which I think will come out more clearly later. She's trying to be a professional while Willow wants nothing more than to fall into bed all the time. Tara's also aware of Willow's reputation (possibly undeserved).

That's also why she left... they both had careers in very different places and she had to get back to her post...

Is that our Willow and Tara? No. It's the one here and one rooted in the 1930's and what those careers mean/meant when travel took longer etc.

However, the fact that they fell into bed again so quickly should tell you that these two just can't keep their hands off each other...

Thanks
Katharyn

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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 4 - 02/10/
PostPosted: Tue Feb 12, 2013 12:49 pm 
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Katharyn & Co, Alrighty! Now I understand, partially, what’s up with Rosenberg and Maclay. Tara is obviously in love and doesn’t know Willow is on the same page. Maybe Willow doesn’t know the depth of her feelings either? All this sexual tension is bound to throw kinks and curves in their quest. Fun times! Curious why Joyce’s daughter shouldn’t know about their history and also what happened to cause a riff in her (Buffy, right?) and Willow’s friendship. It will be interesting to see how they manage since Tara is “officially” in charge but Willow is probably too head-strong to be anything but the leader. Did Tara give Willow the whip, or the hat? I can see that there are gonna be times I wish I could remember more.. but then again.. surprise!


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 Post subject: Re: Willow & Tara: The Raiders Chronicles - PART 4 - 02/10/
PostPosted: Tue Feb 12, 2013 1:12 pm 
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23. Volumey Text

Joined: Sun Apr 24, 2005 12:23 pm
Posts: 3794
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Well, Kajun, Tara has a mission. And she takes her job very seriously as you would when you were faced with the prospect of Hitler having a powerful, supernatural weapon. And with her history with Willow, she has cause to believe in the supernatural more than her Army counterparts might have...

As for Buffy (Elizabeth except to Willow), well in the movie Marion hadn't seen Jones for some years. Temple of Doom when Tara met Willow was only a year earlier... so Buffy has no idea who Tara is.

There, now you have the canon reasoning (we kind of assumed people remembered!!)

Thanks,
Katharyn

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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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