The Kitten, the Witches and the Bad Wardrobe - Willow & Tara Forever

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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Mon Dec 23, 2002 9:27 am 
Wonderful reading, all of this. One of the things I like so much about this story is the way you show us how characters are feeling through the eyes of other characters. So we see that Willow has been crying through the girl's eyes, but we see Willow's strength and resolve through Buffy's eyes. We see the girl as fragile through Dawn's eyes, but we also see her as kind of bravely suffering through Willow's eyes. It's complex and so satisfying to read, as this story is in general. Looking forward to more. Thanks.

"And I'm eating this banana. Lunchtime be damned!" -- Willow in "Doppelgangland



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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Mon Dec 23, 2002 11:30 am 
That was so unexpected, I didn't expect Tara to be so sick. And the way Dawn is so worried and caring for her. It's just the way it should be. I am glad you are posting again, I'll hang on your every update!

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

Buffy?

Let's change it, the Discovery channel has koala bears.



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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Mon Dec 23, 2002 2:25 pm 
I wasn't expecting Tara to be so lost afterwards, but it makes sense and I liked how her childhood past bled into the present. I really liked Buffy and Willow's discussions of the events after Tara's death; you rewove their feelings and reasons to make sense of what happened.

--

"Omnia mutantur, nihil interit." -- "Everything changes, but nothing is truly lost."



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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Mon Dec 23, 2002 6:05 pm 
Yay!



Now it feels like Christmas.



Wow. Tara’s really messed up. And I’m curious what Spike saw in her eyes.



Loved the dialogue, especially between Buffy and Willow. It’s so nice to see the characters actually talk to one another (which I wished they did more often on the show.) Also, I think you did the impossible for me…made Dawn a character that I actually like/feel some sympathy for.



Can’t wait for the next update….











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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Mon Dec 23, 2002 10:46 pm 
More stuff to chew on. I probably will not update again until the end of the week (please let the end of the week happen really, really soon). Thank you for the kind words, I plan on saying more later, but for now: thank you especially to whoever mentioned a newfound appreciation for Dawn--like Tara, I adore the youngest Summers and I wish she had been better served in seasons five and six.



Chapter Seventeen



The crashing sounds of trash collectors moving down the street woke Willow from a troubled sleep. She glanced at the clock. It was early, just a little after six in the morning. The red head sighed, wishing she could have slept in a little longer. When she was a teenager she could have slept through an earthquake, but too many things had happened. Now she was lucky if she could sleep through the night.



She rolled out of her sleeping bag and off the couch, wincing as her back made an ominous crack. After a brief search, she found her slippers kicked underneath one of the wingback chairs. She then padded upstairs to use the bathroom, barely resisting the urge to check on Tara first. She did not need to look to know the blonde was sleeping peacefully. Also knowing that Buffy and Dawn would not be up for an hour or more, she took her time in the shower, letting the bathroom fill with steam as the heat of the water eased her aching muscles. By the time she finished blow-drying her hair, it was nearly seven.



Wrapped in her white terry cloth robe, Willow crept into her bedroom to get dressed. Dawn had left on Tara's night-light, the soft glow of the tiny Tinkebell lamp casting shadows across the floor and along the walls. Tara was sleeping on her side, one arm hooked around her comfort blanket, which she held tightly against her chest. Willow could see from across the room Tara's eyes moving underneath her eyelids, and wondered what filled Tara's dreams. As she quietly slipped into her underclothes, Willow formed a silent prayer asking for Tara's dream to be a happy one.



She was standing in front of the closet picking out a blouse and skirt when she heard Tara begin to cry. Her own heart breaking at the sound, Willow hurried to the sleeping woman's side and began rubbing little circles on her back. Tara muttered something, seemed to settle down, but then began to cry once more.



Exhausted from a day that hadn't even begun, Willow slipped under the covers and sank down on the side of the bed, letting her body wrap around Tara's. Slightly off-key, she hummed a song her lover had once decried as insipid, but one that Tara seemed to like. Moments later Tara turned over and pressed her face against Willow's shoulder. Her lips brushed against Willow's skin, as if she were saying something, and then she quieted. Willow gently worked her fingers into Tara's raggedly cut hair and held Tara's head against her body, cuddling the blonde’s slight frame and letting the girl's body heat soothe her aching muscles. Curled together, each gave the other the peace she needed. Within seconds both were in the restful comfort of dreamless sleep.



When Willow woke for the second time, it was going past eight. Now late, Willow dropped a gentle kiss on Tara's forehead, and hurried out of the room, stopping only to slip into her blouse and skirt.



A quick check in the bathroom mirror revealed that her hair was still relatively fluffy following her impromptu nap, and so she headed downstairs. She found Buffy in the kitchen, brewing the morning coffee.



"Hey, you're up early, today." Willow said, putting as much false cheer in her voice as she could muster.



"I wanted to be to work by nine, I've got appointments from ten to noon and then from one to three." Buffy explained as she slipped two pieces of bread in the toaster. "Do you want cereal? I was thinking of making oatmeal."



"Oatmeal would be good. But why don't I make it?" Willow murmured while trying to gauge her best friend's mood.



"I'm okay." Buffy said quietly. She waited for Willow to look up and then gave her best friend a shaky smile. "Not exactly top of the world okay, but okay."



Willow took the opening. "Still, knowing Spike is back, and that he was in the house."



"Will, really. I'm okay." Buffy watched the coffee drip from the funnel into the pot. "I don't want to see him, but I'm not afraid of him. He's not going to try to hurt me."



"How can you know that, Buffy. After what he tried..." Willow trailed off. Unable to look at her best friend, she finished preparing the oatmeal and popped it into the microwave.



Buffy watched Willow turn away and wondered why it still hurt so much to see Willow disappointed in her, unknowingly and not for the first time misunderstanding her best friend's worry and concern for disapproval. "Tried, but didn't succeed. And, I know he'll never try again." The red head wasn't the only person in the room who could put on a good show of false cheer.



The room fell into an uncomfortable silence as each girl busied herself with a breakfast task. Willow listened to one of their next door neighbors get into his car and hurriedly back out of his driveway. Finally, she looked towards her best friend. "I'm sorry he's back." She knew her words were insufficient, but they were all she had.



Buffy shook her head. "I'm not." At Willow's startled look, she added. "He found Tara, and right now, that's all that matters." While being in debt to the vampire made her skin crawl, she could not deny the relief she'd felt learning Tara had been found. Knowing Willow wouldn't let the subject drop, she changed it herself. "Did you check on Tara, this morning?"



Willow startled slight and then gave her best friend a faint grin. "Like you didn't see me crashed out in the bed."



Buffy grinned back. "Okay, I'll admit it. I peaked in on the two of you." The bread popped up from the toaster. Buffy placed the slices on a plate and began slathering on a generous amount of raspberry jam. "I still think you should sleep upstairs in your own bed.



"When I came back from England you wanted me to switch bedrooms with you." Willow reminded, knowing that she was evading Buffy's point.



"I was worried the room brought up too many ugly memories." Buffy defended, softly.



Willow kept her eyes locked on the window above the sink. "Even before Tara appeared to me, I knew the room held her somehow. I knew that the love we had for each other had never left."



The two drifted for a moment in separate memories of Tara. Buffy broke the silence.



"You know half the reason you can't sleep downstairs is because you've got yourself tuned up to the point that if Tara makes so much as a peep you are instant awake girl."



Willow put on her innocent face. "So you don't agree that the reason I can't sleep is because of the couch of a thousand lumps."



Buffy refused the challenge. "Maybe it's a combination of the two, lumpy couch and worried Willow, but both problems would be fixed if you'd just admit I'm right." Buffy moved her plate and coffee mug to the counter and slipped onto one of the kitchen stools.



Willow deflected Buffy's advice. "Tara had a good night, no major nightmares that I know of. She was a little jumpy around seven this morning, but she settled down again."



"Settled down because you were there." Buffy said, not letting her best friend off the hook.



A knock sounded at the door. Grateful for the distraction, Willow quickly let Clem in. "Hey, Clem. Do you want some breakfast? Coffee?"



"No. I'm good." Explained the perpetually cheerful demon as he slipped out of his overcoat and hat. "How's Tara doing this morning?"



Willow took the now cooked oatmeal from the microwave and began distributing it between three bowls. "She had what I think was a bad dream about an hour ago. I was going to get her up in a few minutes, and give her her breakfast and her morning herbs. She'll probably stay awake for an hour or so, but then she usually drifts back to sleep." Willow nervously ran her fingers through her hair. "I really appreciate you staying with her until Dawnie gets home from school."



Clem reached up and hung his hat and coat on the hook near the kitchen door. "Not a problem. We've been developing a little bit of a rapport." The demon grinned through his pointed and broken teeth. "At least, I know I don't freak her out."



Misgivings over leaving Tara, no matter she was leaving her in Clem's capable hands, washed over Willow. "I wish I didn't have to meet with Professor Noxon, but she's insisting since I missed all those classes."



Buffy took the bowl of cereal from Willow and began spilling sugar across the surface, studiously watching the white granules melt into satisfying hot syrup. "It might not be so bad, Will. Dr. Whedon let you with a short lecture, and he accepted all of your missing homework. Maybe Noxon will take it easy on you, too? Riley thought she was pretty wimpy compared to Dr. Walsh."



"It doesn't matter. I hate being in trouble with my teachers regardless." Willow said darkly.



"That's because you've never been in trouble with them before. Trust me, it gets easier." Dawn breezily declared as she came through the kitchen door. "Hey, Clem." The teen caught her sister's eye and decided some backtracking was in order. "Which is not to say that it's a good idea to get into trouble with your teachers, because it really is a bad thing. Totally bad. Not quite evil, but bad all the same."



"Not good at all." Clem agreed in an effort to ease the tension in the room.



"Very bad." Buffy chimed in. "Especially since you'll get sent to see me if you mess up in school." And then wondered how come she was suddenly getting all the truants wasn't that the assistant principal's job. She made a mental note to ask Principal Wood.



"And notice how since you took the job at my high school I haven't skipped a single class." Dawn took the orange juice from the refrigerator and poured herself a glass.



"You've become a regular gold star Dawnie." Willow agreed, ignoring Buffy’s responding smirk. She placed the filled bowls, plates and coffee mugs on the breakfast tray. "I'm heading upstairs to give Tara her breakfast. Have a good day at school you two." She said, glancing at Buffy and Dawn. "I'll need to leave by nine-thirty." Willow added, looking at Clem.



"I'll be downstairs watching television." Clem explained getting up from his seat.



Buffy watched Willow leave the kitchen and then sighed. She had missed her opportunity to apologize for not telling her they'd called Giles. She resolved to make her apology later. The Slayer glanced at her little sister. "So, do you have time for breakfast."



"Not hungry. And I need to get to school early so I can sign up for career day." Dawn said, as she hoisted her backpack off the floor.



"Well, if they tell you that you should pursue a career in law enforcement, flee immediately." Buffy grinned, remembering her own career day and trying to imagine the expression on Principle Snyder's face if he'd lived long enough to see her working at the high school.



"What?" Dawn stared at her sister. Buffy was clearly having one of her moods. The teen readied to make a joke at her sister's expense and then remembered she'd invited Spike into the house. She knew Buffy understood why she'd done it, but that didn't ease the guilt.



"Old joke. Never mind." Buffy said, still grinning.



"Okay, then. I need to get moving if I want to catch a ride with Janice. See you tonight." Dawn started for the door, but then turned and placed a kiss on her sister's cheek. "Don't forget that tonight's television night."



"I'm so there." Buffy confirmed. "I invited Anya and Xander to come too."



"Cool and bye." Dawn called over her shoulder as she headed out the door.



Buffy looked over at Clem who was picking up the various breakfast dishes and placing them in the sink. "What about you, Clem. Do you want to come to television night? We've got tapes of last night's Birds of Prey, and last week's Alias."



Clem began filling the dishpan with warm sudsy water. "Thanks for the offer, but I've got my poker night."



Buffy lingered over her coffee a few minutes longer and then stood up and took her plate and mug to the counter. "Will Spike be there?" She asked quietly.



The demon carefully took the mug and plate from Buffy's hands and placed them in the soapsuds. "No, since he's been back he hasn't been around much." Clem grimaced. "I know I should have told you he was back, but I thought you had too much on your plate already. And the one thing I know for sure is that he isn't going to bother you." Clem finished washing Buffy's mug and placed it on the drainer. "He knows that if he tries I'm going to kick his ass." The demon added under his breath.



Buffy leaned against the counter, hiding a smile at the idea of gentle Clem defending her honor. "You've been a good friend between looking after Tara when we can't be here to helping keep Dawn out of trouble."



Embarrassed, Clem kept his eyes focused on the soap bubbles bursting underneath his fingers. "You just appreciate me because I do the dishes."



"That too." Buffy agreed. She glanced at the wall clock. "Dawn's probably half way to school by now, so I guess I can leave."



Clem giggled. "It wouldn't do to be seen walking in the door at the same time as Dawn."



"No, not at all. Dawn's social life couldn't stand it." Buffy picked up her shoulder bag. "If you change your mind, TV night starts at eight."



"I probably won't, but thanks for the offer and have a good day at school." Clem called after the Slayer as she headed out the door. The demon looked around the kitchen and spotted two more dirty glasses tucked behind a flowerpot. He checked the wall clock. There was still plenty of time to check the entire downstairs for dirty dishes before settling down to watch Regis and the new person.



Upstairs, Tara counted the tiny flecks of gold in Willow's eyes. There were seventeen in the left and fourteen in the right, although at least two of the flecks in Willow's left eye might better be described as amber. Counting helped to slow the spinning inside her head, as did looking at Willow.



Her mouth closed around the spoon, and oatmeal washed over her tongue. Willow had remembered that she liked it flavored with hazelnut syrup instead of regular sugar. On her lap, she could feel Willow's fingers gently stroking her pajama-covered leg. Willow's hands always felt warm. Her touch reminded Tara of the feeling of sunlight on her hair.



She put all of her concentration in trying to move her hand. If she could touch Willow, Willow would know she was trying to get better. But today her limbs felt sleepy and heavy, like they belonged to someone else. Willow said something, and it took her several seconds to understand the words. She needed to open her mouth. Tears of frustration filled her eyes; she'd forgotten she was supposed to be eating. Now Willow would be disappointed in her.



She heard a clinking sound to her right. And then Willow's arms closed around her. She leaned into her home, her fingertips finding Willow's back, her lips pressing against Willow's neck. She spoke all the words she couldn't say aloud, all the words that wouldn't come off her tongue, her lips brushing against the skin of Willow's neck. Behind closed eyes she watched the kaleidoscope slow, the images turning into colors, the colors turning from yellow to blue to green. She loved the green. In the green she was safe.



When she woke again, her comfort blanket was tucked in her arms. The girl kept her eyes closed, and listened. There was no one else in the room. Her eyes still closed, she inched off of the bed, still holding the blanket to her chest. Barefoot, she pushed forward with her toes until they brushed over the wool carpet. Something stung her, and she cried out softly. Her mouth found the edge of the blanket and she bit down on it, holding it between her teeth. She tasted wool and satin.



Tara opened her eyes slowly, and watched the room telescope outward and then split in two. She closed her eyes against the dizzying movement of color and light, but continued to creep towards the door. The tail corners of the blanket brushed against her legs, reminding her of the ocean's waves. Slowly, step-by-step, she padded across the bedroom floor to the hallway that would lead to the stairs that would lead to the front room. She kept her eyes closed as she passed into the hallway, but opened them as she turned to face the staircase.



She made her footsteps as quiet as she could so that she would not wake up the demon that made the kaleidoscope spin inside her head. She wished Buffy could slay him, or Willow could make him get out of her head, the way Willow had made Glory get out of her head.



Her hand found the handrail and she slowly began her way down the stairs. She picked up his scent first, he smelled of bergamot oil like the tea her mother drank in the afternoon and she felt a smile open up on her face. The girl wished she knew his name because he was kind to her and he made Dawnie laugh. She followed his scent into the front room. He was sleeping while the television box played away. Quietly, like a mouse, she slipped on to the couch and laid her head down on his lap. He was soft and pillowy. The dream began before her eyes closed.



Willow sat towards the front of the lecture hall and forced herself to follow Dr. Espenson's lecture on differential equations. Her meeting with Doctor Noxon had gone well. As Buffy had predicted, the professor accepted her missing work and made encouraging sounds about her proposed research paper topic. Still, residual worry from the night before, over both Tara's evening escape and Spike's unexpected return twisted in the pit of her stomach. She knew Tara was safe with Clem, the genial demon not only took his Tara-sitting duties seriously, he seemed to enjoy them, but Willow couldn't help but wish she were home.



Surreptitiously, she checked her cell phone. She'd set it on vibrate before class; Dr. Espenson hated to be interrupted by ringing cell phones during lecture. No messages. A sigh crossed her lips as she checked the time, twenty minutes to go. And once class ended, she had to stop by the Magic Box and translate a half dozen supply orders, and from there she needed to go to the grocery store. They were out of nearly everything. She wouldn't be home until at six at the earliest. Another sigh crossed her lips.



Something tickled on the side of Willow's neck, and she scratched at it distractedly as she quickly jotted down the equation Dr. Espenson was writing on the board. She spotted the professor's mistake and made the adjustment in her notes. Dr. Espenson turned around to face the class and continue her lecture. Hands shot up from all corners of the room as other student's noticed Dr. Espenson's error. The professor called on one of the students near the back, a dark haired basketball player who Willow remembered from high school. He smugly informed her of the error. Willow watched an odd smile cross the professor's face before she turned around to make the correction. The hacker couldn't help but wonder if the "error" was in fact a test to see if the students were paying attention. Willow sighed again. Sometimes she really hated school.





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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Mon Dec 23, 2002 10:48 pm 
At Sunnydale High School, Dawn was also sighing, but for somewhat different reasons. She'd been flipping through Web pages for the past twenty minutes and found nothing about the effects of drinking Lethe's bramble as a tea. It wasn't that she didn't trust Spike’s advice. He had no reason to want to hurt Tara, but after spending hours crawling around in the sewers with Willow, Tara and "Alex," she wasn't prepared to take any chances. Frustrated, she glanced around the library and saw Kit Holburn writing on her arm with black ink. She'd not seen the Goth-girl for several days.



Kit's eyes flickered up and caught Dawn's. She tilted her head, letting long thick purple highlighted hair obscure her face.



The teen gave the other girl a hesitant smile, and was surprised to not only see it returned, but also to see Kit rise from her chair and come over to sit down.



"Hey. Are you doing homework?" Kit asked, but then caught a glance at Dawn's computer screen. "Or not." She added, raising an eyebrow.



Dawn quickly window switched back to her safety page, the UC Sunnydale home page. "I'm just messing around."



Kit slid her chair closer to Dawn's. "I didn't know you were into the Wicca stuff."



"Not totally into. But interested into." Dawn explained nervously as Kit reached for the mouse and switched the windows back to the page Dawn had been reading.



"Lethe's bramble, huh. My mom uses that for her headaches."



"Headaches?"



"Migraines or something. My mom's totally into the herbal goddess thing."



Not sure why she was surprised, after all, they did live in Sunnydale, Dawn asked. "Is she Wicca?"



"Nah, just woman-centered." Kit rolled her eyes. "You know, Gaia this. Menstrual blood that."



Dawn didn't try to hide her grin. "You don't do the goddess?"



"I just don't get the whole female principle thing. I'm more into contradiction and duality than unity." Kit gave Dawn a measuring stare. "Plus, you don't get to wear black make-up."



Dawn nodded, her eyes inadvertently locking on Kit's black lipstick. "I get that. But Wiccas can be cool. Our housemate Willow is way Wicca and she's cool."



Kit nodded sagely. "Plus your sister's all demon fighter-girl." She thought for a moment. "My mom doesn't believe in the whole magicks thing, or demons. Which is just so like an adult. I mean come on. We live in Sunnyhell: the nation's leader in death by neck puncture."



The two exchanged knowing looks. "Ninety percent of Sunnydale is in total denial on any given day. But that doesn't mean there won't be a run on garlic come Halloween, which is so stupid since everybody knows that Halloween is like an official demon holiday." Dawn noticed a couple of kids eavesdropping. She narrowed her eyes at them until they turned away, but then lowered her voice anyway. "I heard you got suspended?"



Kit giggled. "Nah, I just had a cold. My mom made me stay home and sit in her sweat lodge for a couple of days. Kind of boring, but she let me listen to my MP3 player, so it wasn't like torture, or anything."



Dawn spun in her chair to face Kit." You've got a sweat lodge? Buffy won't even agree to a hot tub. I mean like what's the point in living in southern California if you don't have a hot tub."



"Bummer. Hot tubs should just come with the house, like the floor and stuff." Kit nodded back to the computer screen. "So what's with the herbal research?"



Dawn glanced back at the screen and grimaced. "I was told to get some Lethe's bramble for a friend. But I wanted to check it out first. Do you happen to know where your mom gets her supply? I know they aren't carrying it anymore at the Magic Box."



"How much do you need?" Kit asked, as she continued to read the screen.



"Not that much. I need to grind it up to make tea."



Kit thought for a minute. "I could probably clip some from my mom's herb garden."



"Garden?" It took Dawn a moment to make sense of what Kit was saying. The idea of people home growing their own herbs seemed unreal, like the idea of people making their own clothes.



Kit's face opened up into a rare, full-on smile. "Yeah, she grows a lot of her own stuff. She has a mini-green house and everything. She doesn't like me to mess around in her stuff, but she's got her candle-making class tonight, so I could grab some tonight and give it to you tomorrow during third period."



Dawn wrinkled her forehead. "I don't want you to get into trouble with your mom."



"First of all she won't catch me." Kit leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially. "And second of all if I'm not messing up she would lose her reason to complain to the goddess."



"Okay, but if you get in trouble, tell your mom you were getting the stuff for me." Dawn glanced at the clock. "Did you finish the biology assignment?"



Kit snickered. "Are you kidding?"



"Want to do it together? It's just five questions?" Dawn asked with a smirk, only to be surprised to see Kit's expression soften.



The Goth nodded shyly. "Let me go grab my book."



A thought tickled in the back of Dawn's mind. She's lonely too. Slightly flustered, Dawn explained. "I'm done with the computer. Why don't I move over to your table?"



"Cool." Kit agreed as Dawn leaned down to grab her purse and backpack off the floor.



Tara walked through the deserted city searching for the bookstore. Bright and unforgiving, a white sun hung high in the sky, heating the cement walls and streets and making the girl long for the tender coolness of the night. A trickle of sweat slid down her forehead and caught on her eyebrow. She reached up and rubbed it away while wishing she could find water. After several blocks, she came to an intersection and turned left. Larry had once told her that if she ever got stuck in a labyrinth, she should consistently turn to her left or right. Tara wasn't sure if the advice worked for cities, but since she did not have a map, it seemed like a reasonable choice.



As she walked the city streets, she tried to remember why she needed to go to the bookstore. There had to be a reason. She did not normally wander alone in deserted cities. Indeed, she rarely wandered alone anywhere. Or did she? Not sure of the answer, she pushed it from her thoughts and instead tried to remember why she needed to go to the bookstore. At the next intersection, she started to turn to her left, but then she heard it, something moving behind her.



Tara turned and saw the cat grooming itself on the sidewalk. It was tiny, more kitten than cat. Its ribs stuck out a little, and she could see it had been in a fight. There was a small wound on its neck and the tip of its tail was severely bent. She crept forward on quiet feet trying not to startle it.



Crouching low, she reached to pet the cat, only to fall backward as the cat sprung to its feet and darted away from her. When the cat reached the shadow of a nearby building, it came to a stop. Startlingly green eyes seemed to watch Tara as she slowly rose from the pavement. As soon as Tara was back on her feet, the cat turned from her and began walking away. After about twenty feet, it stopped, dropped to the pavement and began rolling back and forth.



"Am I supposed to follow you?" Tara asked, wondering what she would do if the cat responded.



The cat stopped its playing and turned to look at her. It was pitch black but for one white leg, a small patch on its chest, and all four of its paws. The cat waved its white leg in the air in a slow, undulating pattern, a picture of unhurried insouciance. Tara used her sleeve to blot away the sweat that continued to bead on her forehead. "Do you know how to find the bookstore? I've wasted most of the afternoon, and I don't want to be out after dark." The cat continued to stare at her for several moments, and then jumped to its feet. It looked over its shoulder once, and then continued walking away from her.



Tara sighed. Maybe going to the left wasn't the answer. She did not deliberate long before starting after the tiny cat. Or was it a kitten?



Lecture over, Willow scooted out of class, waving a quick hello to Katie and Bobby, but not stopping to chat. Usually she mass transited to school on Thursdays, but, today, she had far too many things she needed to take care of to rely on the Sunnydale Bus Authority. Seventeen minutes later, she found her car and pulled out of student parking heading for the Magic Box.



As she wound through Sunnydale's slightly congested streets, she idly contemplated ditching her responsibilities at the Magic Box and going home instead. The weather was turning nasty. A huge early winter storm was boiling off the coastline, getting ready to blow through Sunnydale. Rain was forecast for tonight and tomorrow, and Willow couldn't help but think how much nicer it would be to be home sipping tea and catching up her emails, and most especially, looking after Tara. Still, she knew Tara was safe. Clem would call if a problem arose, and Dawn would be home soon. And she also knew that she owed Anya the help. The vengeance demon was still making up for the lost business from last spring's wrecking. Responsible sensibility won over prickly impulse; reliable Willow made the left turn on to Main that would eventually lead her to the Magic Box.



When she arrived, she found a shop full of customers and Anya in a surprisingly foul mood. Willow slipped out of her coat and hat, hanging them up on the coat rack near the door to the practice room. Halloween rush was starting early, or so it seemed. Willow pitched in, helping customers with the books and tarot packs, and trying to remember to push the pumpkin pie scented candles. She quickly understood the reason for Anya's mood as customer after customer asked for the impossible. One customer wanted bronze votive candleholders when they only had silver. Another customer demanded the oversized Aleister Crowley deck when they only had the standard. While a third demanded risible foxtail, but only if it came preground. Willow found her patience strained to near breaking as she explained not once, not twice, but three times that ground foxtail lost its potency very quickly after grinding, and therefore was only sold in raw bundles.



By the time she was able to sit down and get to work on the mail orders, it was just past five o'clock. Willow resisted the urge to check in with Dawn, after last night's fiasco, the teen was already feeling guilty. A phone call would only make Dawn feel like she was no longer trusted with Tara. Still, that did not mean Willow couldn't make an effort to hurry. The hacker pulled out her trusty laptop, and began transcribing the orders into her translation software. The results weren't always pretty, and Willow hated relying on the technology, but the computer certainly helped to speed along the task. Finished in record time, Willow stopped only long enough to confirm Anya was coming to TV night, and then headed out the door to complete her last errand before heading home.



But the time she made up processing Anya's orders was quickly squandered at the grocery store amid a traffic jam of wheeled carts, chatting post-work shoppers and the usual assortment of employees pushing the contents of the most recent "frequent flyer." As Willow made it out the door, bags hanging from each hand, another tucked under her arm, the generalized and minor frustrations, worries and irritations of the day coalesced, forming a hard knot in her stomach. Oblivious to the chaos of the grocery store parking lot, she put her bags in the trunk and rocketed towards the Magnolia street exit, nearly taking out a five door excursion van and causing a fire engine red Honda to test its brakes in the most uncontrolled of fashions. Back on the road, she sped towards Main, only to be slowed down behind an SUV whose driver had decided to take his lane down the middle, now in a near rage, she made a right turn and then a left, not realizing where she was heading until she pulled through the gates of Evergreen Cemetery.



She pulled to her usual stop, shut off the engine and stepped out of the car. Her feet sunk into the freshly mowed grass as she made her way through the intricate landscape of California pines, towering palm trees and slabs of marble, granite and limestone. While unmarked, the path she took was nevertheless familiar, a right turn at the Sanchez marker, a slight swing to the left by the statue of the Buddha, down the slope and past the bench of the Sunnydale Garden Society. Her pulse slowed and the troubles of her day returned to human proportions as she drew closer to the one place she could now find a however conflicted peace.



It was Dawn who had insisted Tara be buried next to Joyce, so that the two could look out for one another. At the time, Willow had been too grief-stricken to voice an opinion, but now she was grateful for Dawn's simple request. As always, Willow stopped at Joyce's grave first. Someone, Buffy probably, had left flowers recently, three white roses tied to together with a yellow ribbon. The tips of the petals seemed to glow under the faint light of the setting sun.



"Sorry I haven't been by for a while. It's just that a lot of stuff has been happening. But Buffy probably told you about it already." A tentative smile passed over Willow's face. "Even though it's been kind of nuts, I'm being a good girl and staying in touch with my mom and dad. I've been emailing my mom once a week and I've been making my Tuesday night dinner dates with my dad. We're still mostly talking about school stuff." She confessed, her voice lowering slightly. "If I could figure out a way to tell them what's been going on, I would. But they've never really accepted the fact that I'm a witch, so I'm not really sure how to tell them that my lover's counterpart from another reality has crossed over to this one." Willow grinned. "And I doubt that Hallmark is going to be coming up with a card for that one anytime soon." But the grin faded quickly as a wave of sorrow over Joyce's passing washed over her. Even when her jokes were lame, Joyce had always laughed at them.



Several drop of rain peppered her face. "We had a bit of a scare last night. Tara got away from us. She's okay, and you won't believe who brought her home." Willow thought for a moment, and decided to edit out the Spike parts. It was up to Buffy to tell Joyce that Spike was back. "Anyway, Dawn was pretty upset over the whole thing, because she was Tara-sitting at the time. But she shouldn't feel that way; what happened could have happened to any of us." Willow heard her speech speeding up and took a deep breath. "Don't worry about Dawnie. Buffy and I will make sure she knows it wasn't her fault. I just wanted you to know we're all doing out best. And we all still miss you."



Willow closed her eyes and said a silent blessing for Joyce, wishing her best friend's mother peace and love and joy. It helped to visit Joyce's grave first. There she could let herself remember the high school evenings spent watching videos with Buffy and Xander while Joyce made snacks and hot chocolate in the kitchen, and there she could let herself recall the back yard cook outs with the whole gang that last summer before Glory came and before anyone knew about the tumor growing inside Joyce's head. There she could let herself remember times when living on the hellmouth seemed bearable and doing magicks was joyous. And only then could she temporarily let go of grief that ached deep inside her chest, handing it over to Joyce, who understood the ache of separation, and only then could she make those last final steps and stand in front of the other marker.



Tara's stone was simple. It said only her name, her birth and death dates and the word, "always." It wasn't quite as tall as Joyce's, but, as Xander liked to say, it fit Tara's style. The flowers Willow had left during her last visit had dried; she picked them up, planning to take them home to add to the bowl of dried petals Tara had kept on their dresser. "I didn't bring you any flowers today. I wasn't even planning on coming. Dawnie and Tara are waiting for me at home, and I don't want to worry them, but it's just been this day. This really stupid day. And I've been missing you so much."



Willow rubbed her fingers against the side of the gravestone, letting the coldness of the stone seep into her flesh. "Nothing's new." She rethought her words. "Well, Spike is back, but I don't think he's here to cause trouble. He even helped with Tara last night. She's still in a bad way. We're all pretty worried, but we're doing the best we can." She listened to her words and wondered if they were true. Were they really doing all they could, was she? The grit of the stone gathered underneath her fingers and she pressed at it, wanting to feel the sting. The sting was real. "At least, I hope we are. It's been hard. None of us know what she needs, or if what we're doing is right." The wind picked up and the red head turned up the collar of her coat. "Anya called Giles. I didn't want him to know about Tara. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe he can help. Nothing I'm doing is helping."



The bitterness in her voice surprised her. She didn't like it; she had no right to complain. The rain continued to fall in dribs and drabs, but she sat down anyway, curling her legs to the side and then leaning over to use her fingers to trace the engraving of her lover's name. "I've been slipping." She confessed and then quickly added, "Not with magicks, with schoolwork, I mean." Her fingers moved to trace the date, to touch the moment when her life ended. "I almost forgot to do an assignment for my networking class. And I'm only lucky my professors have been cutting me some slack. Otherwise I'd be in big trouble. Me, Willow Rosenberg, reliable dog geyser person." A smile passed over her face as she remembered Tara's peals of laughter over the story behind that moniker. "It's just been so hard without you to talk too. I got used to our talks. I miss them so much. Even more than the kissing."



She swallowed and said out loud the words that had been pressing to get out, knowing however much it hurt to say them, it hurt even more not to let them out. "It's been hard because there's this stranger sleeping in our bed. And I don't know what I'm supposed to feel for her, or how I'm supposed to fix what's wrong inside her head. It's been hard because I promised to take care of her, but I don't know how to keep my promise." Tears of frustration threatened to spill over. "Baby, I wish I was better at this. I'm trying to be strong." A sad smile passed over her face. "Strong like an Amazon, remember? I just don't want to disappoint you. I disappointed you too much. And I don't want to disappoint our Tara either." Willow stirred her fingers amid the stones that lay at the base of Tara's marker and tried to find the connection that had sustained her over the past three years. "Baby, I miss you. I miss you every day." Several minutes passed before the familiar warmth traveled up through her fingers and hand, into her arm, through her shoulder and then filling her chest. She took her hand back and held it against her heart. "I'll be back soon, and next time I'll bring you flowers, little yellow roses."



The knot in her stomach almost dissolved, Willow stood up and quietly made her way back to her car. It wasn't until she was buckling her shoulder harness across her chest that it crossed her mind visiting the cemetery at nightfall wasn't very bright. If they found out, Buffy would be furious, and Dawn would freak out. She thought of the night in the alley, and her throat caught as she realized she couldn't expect another rescue from Spidergirl. A light up ahead reminded her that the groundskeepers would soon be closing the gate. Thinking that the last thing she needed was to be locked in, she picked up her speed, only to brake to a sudden halt as a tiny cat ran into the road. Heart pounding, Willow jumped out of the car and checked under the wheels and then sighed with relief. It had probably cost the cat one of its lives, but it had made it to the other side.



Wondering where the little cat had run off too, Willow peered into the dark grounds, but saw nothing. Part of her wanted to begin searching the grounds, but the more sensible side of her personality overruled, reminding her a second time that in Sunnydale cemetery after dark equaled danger. Unsettled, she got back into her car and headed home.



Back at the house, Dawn closed her trigonometry textbook with a satisfying snap. Not only had she finished tomorrow's assignment, she'd finished Monday's homework as well. She stood up and began collecting the various books and note she'd spread across the dining room table, and then haphazardly shoved the resulting pile into her backpack. She was now officially homework free for the weekend.



She carried her backpack to the foyer and left it on the floor near the door. As she came back into the front room, her eyes slid past the small clock that sat on the mantle. Willow was at least thirty minutes late. Dawn glanced over at Tara, who sat on the couch looking out the window. She watched the blonde's eyes nervously track a passing car.



"Don't worry, I'm sure Willow will be home any minute." Dawn declared with false confidence. As much as she resisted Buffy and Willow's curfews for herself, she hated it when Buffy or Willow came home late. Forcing herself to ignore the stomach tingles that came whenever she worried, Dawn sat down next to Tara.



Tara immediately moved closer and Dawn turned so that the blonde could cuddle against her. "I'm not sure why she's late. Anya said she'd left the Magic Box about an hour ago, but she had to go to the grocery store afterwards, and you know what Trader Joe's is like." Dawn thought a minute. "Well, maybe you don't. Trust me, it's usually super busy."



Dawn caught the faint hint of a smile on Tara's face. Tenderly, she brought her hand to Tara's face and pushed away several locks of thick blonde hair. The question came to her lips unbidden. "What's going on inside your head? I know you're thinking about stuff. I can tell by the way your eyes move and the way your forehead wrinkles."



Large blue eyes blinked in response, but the girl said nothing. Impulsively, Dawn pressed a kiss on Tara's forehead. "It's all inside of you, waiting to get out, isn't it?" She questions, holding open her arms, smiling as Tara snuggled closer. "And it will, soon. I promise."



Dawn rested her chin on the top of Tara's head and listened to the soft sounds of Tara's breath. The comfort of holding on to Tara helped clear her head of her worries about Willow, letting her mind turn to other concerns.



"Do you know who I am? I wonder about that sometimes. I know Willow told you about me, but I wished we'd met before the rejoining, so that I could have heard you speak at least once." A shiver ran down Dawn's spine as her thoughts sped ahead to tomorrow's plan. "I know you want to talk again. I watch the way your lips move, the way your eyes squint as if you can see the words you need to say. And I have an idea. Someone--you probably don't want to know who--turned me on to something that might help you get better. It's not a spell, more like an herbal remedy. Anyway, my friend Kit's going to help me get the stuff I need. She's the girl I was telling you about the other day."



Dawn loosened her arms as Tara sat up and turned to look into the teen's eyes. From the corner of her eye she watched Tara's hand move slowly and uncertainly to her face and then tenderly cup her cheek. Even though she knew that her two Tara's were not the same, the gesture reminded her of the first nights after Tara and Willow had come to live with her. "If you get well, everything will be better."



A familiar sound began echoing down the street and Dawn watched a smile form across Tara's face. Her own grin just as wide, Dawn chortled. "I guess you know who that is."



Sharing in the blonde's excitement, Dawn got up from the couch and went to the front door, not surprised to hear Tara's uncertain feet padding behind her. She opened the door just as Willow pulled into the driveway. "Hey, did you remember to get some chamomile tea?" Dawn yelled as she headed out the door.



Willow stepped out of the car. "Yes, and I also remembered to get a box of those fake ice cream bars Buffy likes."



"Tofutti cuties?" Dawn asked, meeting Willow at the car trunk.



"Yep. Make sure you put them in the back of the freezer. They might have gotten a little melty on the ride home from the store." Willow handed Dawn one of the grocery bags, only then noticing Tara standing on the lawn at the edge of the driveway. Barefoot, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and dressed in over-sized navy sweat pants, a faded blue tee shirt and a loose white pull-over, in the half-light of the streetlamps she could have been her lover. Willow handed Dawn a second grocery bag, tucked the third under her arm and shut the trunk. "Anya said she'll be over around eight, have you heard from Xander?"



"He called a little while ago. He's picking up Anya at Magic Box."



Willow pretended to think for a moment. "Well, it's probably too late too make anything. Want to call Marcello's and order pizza?"



Playing along, Dawn asked, "Are you sure? We could make spaghetti or something?"



"But pizza's the more popular choice. Don't you think? Plus, isn't there a special?" Willow asked as she turned towards the house.



Following behind, Dawn watched Willow's hand close protectively around Tara's, as the hacker gently tugged the blonde into step with her. "Sure, tonight's extra-large double topping night." She did not mention that every night was extra-large double topping night.



When they were through the door, Dawn casually kicked it shut behind her and continued to trail behind as Willow and Tara headed for the kitchen. "Mushrooms and onions on the one, sausage and mushrooms on the other?"



Willow propped her grocery bag on the center counter. "Ask them to add green peppers to the vegie pizza, and extra sauce on both."



Dawn dumped her grocery bags next to Willow's. "Anything else?" She asked, picking up the phone.



Willow opened the refrigerator and looked inside. "Two double liters of diet." Willow glanced over a Tara, who had moved to stand in front of the stove. "No make that one diet and one root beer."



Speed dial already punched, Dawn nodded. "Got it."



Willow dropped her purse on the other counter and crossed over to Tara, her eyes catching on the now quite wet hems of the blonde's sweat pants. "We should get you in some dryer clothes."



Still on the phone, Dawn anticipated Willow's next question. "They're folded and on your bed."



Willow nodded her appreciation. "In that case, if we're all set down here, why don't I give Tara her bath before everyone gets here." The red head turned to face Tara, who was standing next to the kitchen sink. "Is that okay with you? I know they aren't very deep, but we need to keep those cuts on your feet clean."



Dawn finished talking to Marcello's and put down the phone, her expression worried. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let Tara come outside with me."



Willow gave the teen a reassuring smile. "Dawnie, don't worry about it. Our girl is fine." Willow declared moving towards Tara. "Aren't you?'



The girl blinked and was surprised to find herself in the kitchen. She watched the red head with the green eyes move towards her. The scent of fresh grass and rainwater hovered in the air. Fingers brushed against hers. She closed her hand around them and woke the memory of Willow's name. Her lips tried to form the word, but she could only form a smile. It seemed enough, because Willow began tugging on her hand.



Tara reached out, catching the hand extended to her, letting it pull her to her feet. Laughter sang around her and warm sand pressed up between her toes. The noise of the surf pulled her around and her eyes caught on the setting sun. Arms closed around her from behind, she felt the press of a familiar body against her back. The laughter sounded closer to her ear, and then she heard words like notes of music. Soft lips brushed against her neck and hands pressed around her waist. She turned wanting to see into eyes green like leaves of grass.



Her hands clamped over her ears at the sudden sound. It pounded against her ears and reminded her of the stampede of the Tsuris demons. Afraid, she looked around and found Willow's smile. Her heart began to slow and she realized she was now in the upstairs bathroom, the one that smelled of lavender. Soap bubbles drifted into the air and she reached towards one of them as it bounced along an air draft heading up towards the ceiling. Her other arm went up in the air as she felt her tee shirt swoosh over her head. Cool air moved about her raising goose bumps across her shoulders and arms. Willow's hands closed over her own and tugged her arms back to her sides. Red hair brushed against her shoulder as the tie to her pants came undone.



The water felt warm against her skin and she could hear the tiny popping of the little bubbles. She opened her eyes and saw Willow's smile. The sponge glided along her arms and down her back. Gentle hands began massaging her scalp and pulling through her hair. She watched one of the bubbles attach itself to Willow's pale yellow shirt and noticed a haphazard line of little water spots stretching up the shoulder. Hands moved through her hair and she remembered this from before, from long ago. Willow helping her to lie back and then rinsing out her hair, Willow smiling as she held a sponge above her head and drizzled warm water over her stomach. She remembered this. It had happened before. Excited, Tara sat up.



The water surged around her body as she twisted in the tub. The words were there, on the tip of her tongue, waiting to get out. She watched green eyes open wide as her hands reached to hold Willow's face. She remembered this. It had happened before. She tried to push the words off of her tongue, but they would not come. She remembered this. It has happened before. She tried to tell Willow with her eyes, and then she leaned forward, her arms moving over Willow's shoulders. As she showered Willow's pale yellow shirt with water spots, she brought her lips to Willow's and breathed the words she could not say into Willow's mouth, sending into Willow all that was in her soul, and then the darkness came, and the dreams began again.





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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Mon Dec 23, 2002 10:51 pm 
Willow used the empty pizza boxes as a tray for carrying the dirty dishes into the kitchen. She placed the dishes in the sink and then collapsed the box to fit inside the trashcan. Moments later, Buffy entered the kitchen carrying more plates. Willow glanced at her friend. "Just leave them. I'll clean up the kitchen tomorrow morning."



Buffy made an audible sigh of relief at once again avoiding kitchen duty. "You spoil me, Will." She moved behind her best friend so that she could perch her chin on the red head's shoulder. "Thanks also for taking care of dinner, too. I needed to talk with Principle Wood about my hours now that I'm planning on taking classes in the Winter, and the meeting ended up running later than I expected."



Willow teasingly rolled her shoulder, gently knocking away Buffy's chin. "Hey, stop with the apologies, okay. You're allowed to have a life, remember?"



Sighing quietly, Buffy turned and leaned with her back against the counter. "I just wish I'd been there to help you, tonight."



Willow avoided Buffy's eyes, not wanting to see her friend's sympathy. "Tara passed out in the bathtub, Buffy. It's happened before." She tried to keep her tone steady, but she could hear the slight tremor. Over the course of the evening, the fear she'd felt when Tara had slid out of her arms and into the water had transformed into guilt. She was supposed to be taking care of Tara, but when Tara had fallen back all she could do was scream. Dawn was there in seconds, and between the two of them they carried Tara out of the bath and into the bedroom.



Hating the expression of guilt on Willow's face, Buffy argued. "It's happened before, but it's still not okay, or easy or your fault." Buffy's fingers gently closed around Willow's hand.



Willow noticed that Buffy's fingers felt cold and dry. She pushed down the tears in her throat. "Not okay, not easy, but not something you don't need to apologize for. We handled it. Crisis passed. Moving on."



Buffy's words seemed off her tongue before she realized. "To where, Will? Moving on to where?"



Unable to answer the question, Willow deflected. "I need to go check on Tara." She put a false cheer into her voice. "Why don't you put out the ice cream? Don't forget Xander wants sprinkles."



Buffy nodded, unwillingly accepting the change in mood and subject. "Xander gets sprinkles, Dawn syrup and Anya wants her ice cream plain."



It wasn't easy, but Willow managed a grin. "And don't forget I want banana slices."



Taking up the performance, Buffy clowned. "Me forget that? Who do you think you're talking to? The lessons in food service I learned at the Doublemeat have not been forgotten."



Willow gave Buffy a smirk. "Do you still miss the hat?"



"Totally, I should have kept it, instead of turning it back with my uniform." Buffy let go of Willow's hand and waved the red head away. "Just go check on Tara. I am totally on top of this."



"Okay, heading upstairs. Don't let Xander or Dawn grab those last two slices of pizza. I set those aside for Tara." Willow backed out of the kitchen to see if Buffy remembered where she last hid the chocolate syrup. Buffy did, which could explain why they kept running out.



The smile on her face left as she mounted the stairs. She'd worried about Tara all day, and then she was the one who'd let her slip in the bathtub. How could she have been so careless? Angry with herself, the red head crept quietly into the room. The tiny Tinkerbelle nightlight bathed the room in soft shadows. Tara was sleeping on her side; she'd pulled the bedcovers from their moorings and was clutching them against her chest, leaving her feet uncovered. Willow winced as she realized they'd forgotten to give Tara her comfort blanket: another reason to feel guilty.



As gently as she could, Willow eased the covers from Tara's arms, replacing them with the satin edged blanket, which the blonde promptly pulled against her body. Silently, Willow moved around the bed, first pulling the sheet and comforter straight, and then tenderly tucking in Tara's now cold feet. Ready to go back downstairs, Willow changed her mind, and instead closed the bedroom door.



She slipped out of her shoes before crawling up on the bed and slipping inside the covers. "Here baby, come to me." Willow crooned, lying back, her arms open.



Still asleep, Tara slid forward, curling into Willow's body. Her lips found the warm skin of Willow's neck.



"I'm sorry I let you slip in the water, and I'm sorry that I took so long coming home. Dawnie told me how you waited for me at the window." Willow began to run her fingers up and down Tara's back, tickling the skin through the blonde's thin nightshirt. "It was just kind of a long day, too many responsibilities, I guess. I stopped to blow off some steam." She stopped speaking as Tara began to stir in her arms, seemingly about to awaken, only to then snuggle deeper. Willow cupped one hand behind Tara's head, her fingers pushing into still damp hair. "Tomorrow, I am going to comb this mess out and then braid it. I wish we could get it cut, but we probably shouldn't until you're feeling better."



The gentle motion of Tara's breathing helped to soothe away the stress of the day, causing the last remnants of the knot that had taken root in Willow's stomach to melt away. Getting up from the bed seemed a horrible chore, but Willow knew they were waiting for her downstairs. Their television date was now only a pretext for discussing Anya's phone call to Giles, a discussion she'd managed to avoid throughout the day, but time had run out. Sighing, she gently untangled herself from Tara's sleepy embrace.



Tara made a quiet cry of annoyance as Willow slipped off the bed, the sound reminding the hacker of her earlier conversation with Buffy. "I'll be back later, sweetie." Willow promised, the words off her tongue before she realized she meant them. She placed on last kiss on Tara's forehead and then headed downstairs, making sure to leave the bedroom door ajar so that she would hear right away if Tara called out.



Downstairs, Willow found Buffy and Dawn parked on the couch, Xander on the floor and Anya in one of the wing backs, all four attentively watching the end credits of "Birds of Prey." Willow smirked. "Okay, am I the only one who thinks Harleen is like some evil descendent of Calisto."



Xander looked up. "She's got the wide-eyed crazy look down, that's for sure. I keep waiting for her to call Dinah, the irritating blonde."



"Is there no television show, movie or book superhero that doesn't remind you of either "Star Trek" or "Xena"?" Buffy asked, her expression wry but her question entirely serious.



"I haven't figured out the "Charmed" connection, but that's probably because I stopped watching after the first couple of eps." Xander said, as he stretched his arms over his head. "The whole magic thing they do on the show is just too weak. On the other hand, I'm seeing some Xena elements in "Gilmore Girls."



Anya sighed. "I love Lorelei. And I had to miss last week's ep because some idiot boyfriend decided to break his girlfriend's heart just in time to ruin my evening."



"A vengeance demon's job is never done." Xander quipped, and then recoiled as Anya sent him a dagger look.



Eager to keep Anya from launching into a "what's that supposed to mean" discussion, Buffy ventured. "So are we going to talk about Giles, or what?"



From the corner of her eye Willow caught Anya looking. "Guys, I'm not mad about the call. Just a little worried." She glanced towards Buffy looking for support.



The Slayer curled her legs up on the couch, and sank back against the cushions. "Will, isn't so sure it's a good idea for the Watcher's Council to find out about Tara. And now that Giles is back within the fold..." She did not need to finish her thought.



"Why?" Xander raised his hands in mock protest. "Hey, I know they're jerks and everything. God knows their so-called Buffy tests have never been anything less than complete disasters. But what could they do?"



"Take her away." Willow's voice was barely above a whisper.



Xander's eyes narrowed. "Oh, that is so not going to happen. For one thing there's no way Giles would let them try it."



"What if they didn't tell him? What if they sent out the same crew that tried to pick up Faith?" Willow couldn't hide the panic in her voice."



"Again with the that is so not going to happen." Xander bristled. "If any of those Watcher goons shows up here they will be quickly introduced to the business end of my boot."



"Mine too." Dawn opined, a threat that would have sounded more sinister if she wasn't speaking through a mouthful of popcorn.



Anya glanced over at Buffy. "Over the years, they've set themselves up for a whole mess of vengeance. Just make the wish. But make it something creative."



"Getting bored with the whole scorned women thing?" Willow asked, not unkindly and wanting to defuse the tension in the room.



The vengeance demon sighed. "Not so much bored. More like I might be looking to expand my repertoire or something." Looking down, she pushed her newly blonde hair back behind her ears. "My heart's just not in it anymore." She added, softly, her eyes shifting away from Xander's feet.



An uncomfortable silence fell upon the room. Willow, leaning forward in her chair, studied the pattern in the carpet, her eyes tracing the subtle shifts between cranberry and midnight blue. She knew that her worries about the Watcher's Council were probably unfounded. What she needed to do was trust her friends. If they came for Tara, they'd have to get past Buffy first, and they had never been able to make that work in the past, so why worry now. Besides, Xander could kick like nobody's business and Dawn was the reigning champion of hair pulling. Calmer, she asked. "So what did Giles have to say?"



Anya turned her gaze to Willow. "He agrees with you that taking Tara to see a doctor would probably do little good. Whatever's wrong with her, the source is undoubtedly magickal. Miss Hartness is away on business for a few days. He wants to talk with her first, and then he's going to get back to us."



Willow kept her eyes on the carpet. "Was he freaked?"



Anya's tone was more even than usual. "He seemed a little unsettled, which probably means he was really a lot unsettled."



"How much did you tell him?" Xander asked as he moved over to sit closer to Willow. He tapped the hacker's knee. When she looked at him, he gave her a reassuring smile.



"That upstairs Tara came from the other reality on some sort of mission that we don't entirely understand." It was Anya's turn to study the carpet. "I told him a little about your Tara, what happened, the rejoining. I think he's very worried about you."



Willow ignored the reassurance of Xander's smile and touch. "That I'm about to go all black eyes and veiny face again?"



"That you've been through a lot. That you've had to say goodbye to Tara, twice." Anya replied, quickly.



Again the room fell into silence. Xander shifted slightly so that he could capture Willow's hand in his. He held her fingers loosely but said nothing.



Hating herself for it, she pulled her fingers free from Xander's. "I didn't get to say goodbye the first time." Willow reminded, her tone bitter. "There was no time for goodbye. It was all over in an instant. But it doesn't really matter does it? It doesn't matter whether of not I was able to say goodbye. All that matters is that I can never return the blood I took."



"Miss Hartness and the coven let you come back here, Will. They wanted you to come home. We wanted you to come home." Xander argued, softly.



Unable to accept Xander's reassurances, Willow argued back. "The coven let me come back here, but why should Giles trust me?"



Anya refused Willow's response. "This isn't about trust and this isn't about the blood. Giles loves you. Of course he's worried about you. How couldn't he be? But what he isn't scared of is you. And I'm not either. And neither is Xander." She ignored the look of surprise on Xander's face as she spoke for him. "We've no reason to be afraid of you."



"Or me, or Buffy." Dawn added.



Willow tried to accept what her friends were telling her. She looked around the room, at Dawn and Buffy on the couch, at Xander and Anya sitting nearby. Their wounds had healed. The scar on Xander's face was nearly faded away. Dawn's arm was as good as new. She made herself remember her lover's wisdom about owning the truth of what she did but not letting the truth own her.



Buffy spoke quietly. "Of course, you're not going to believe any of us until you decide to stop being scared of yourself." At Willow's wondering look, Buffy added. "Hey, I can be perceptive. I can have insight into the workings of the human heart."



"I, for one, would never cast doubt on perceptive Buffy." Xander joked back.



Grateful to see a small smile pass over Willow's face, Buffy ran with Xander's clowning. "Xander, why do I feel like there was an edge to that statement?"



Xander held up his hands in a gesture of supplication. "No jokes. No edginess. Consider me an entirely blunt object. Absent of all edges. Almost round."



"More like soft and smooshy." Dawn added, giggling. "Comfortable like an old shoe."



"Or a warm and comfy sweater." Anya contributed, and then uncomfortably recrossed her legs.



Willow watched Xander's face light up in a wide smile over Anya's statement. She changed the subject before Anya could back away from her admission. "I hope Miss Hartness can help."



Following Willow's lead, Buffy responded. "You said she was the smartest person you've ever met, and coming from you that means she's probably one of the smartest person's in the universe."



"In the multi-verse." Dawn added, still giggling.



"That's a lot of smarts." Xander contributed, sending Dawn into further giggles. He turned back to face Willow. "You've got Giles and Miss Hartness on the case. Plus you've got all of us working on it too. We're going to figure this one out, Will. Tara's going to be okay, I can feel it."



Willow gazed affectionately at her friends and simply said, "Thank you."



A comfortable silence fell over the room, interrupted only by the crunching of handfuls of popcorn. A minute or two passed before Buffy turned to Anya. "What else did Giles say?"



Anya looked up from the floor. "What?



"Is he still liking being in England." Buffy prompted.



"Well, it is rainy and depressing there, and so I imagine he's liking it. But I don't know. I think there was something he wanted to tell me, but couldn't." Anya tugged on her ear, distractedly.



"You don't think he's in trouble, do you?" Willow asked, her anxiety rising again.



"No. Not at all." Anya considered her words. "It seemed like her was getting ready to start some new project. He mentioned something about a new magicks collection that had fallen into the council's hands. And you know Giles and musty old books."



"The exciting life of the librarian cannot be underestimated." Xander smirked.



"But you're sure he's okay." Willow asked, needing confirmation.



Anya grinned. "Giles is right as rain. He's probably holed up right now with a pile of smelly books, a cup of tea and several clean handkerchiefs to keep his lenses polished."



Xander shook his head, stretched out his arms and yawned. "Good God, it's early morning there. Isn't it?"



"That whole orbiting of the earth thing is such a wonder." Buffy quipped.



Xander nodded sagely. "Not to mention, the whole idea of an a continent and an ocean between us and the land of left driving and room temperature beer."



"I think that both sides probably welcome the idea of a huge land mass and an even bigger body of water as a welcome buffer zone." Anya observed.



Willow's grin over Anya's silliness was interrupted by an unexpected yawn. Suddenly, the residual stress of the day overcame her and her entire body turned weary. The red head struggled to her feet. "Guys, I think I need to get to bed. I'm beat, as in to a pulp."



"Does that mean you want us to clear out?" Buffy asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.



Willow deliberately kept her eyes focused on Buffy's feet, not wanting to see the expression in best friend's eyes. "Nah, I think I'll sleep in my own bed tonight. Tara had a rough time of it before, and I don't want her to be alone."



Xander spoke up from his spot on the floor. "Sounds like a good plan, Will."



Her thoughts stuck on the hope that Miss Hartness would have an answer, Willow did not notice Buffy and Xander's exchange of smiles of approval as she headed up the stairs.



From her corner on the couch, Dawn watched the tableau unfold in front of her. She'd kept quiet through most of the discussion concerned that Buffy would send her upstairs once they began talking about Anya's conversation with Giles. It might be through the backdoor, but slowly she was making a place for herself in the Scooby meetings. Several times she considered telling them about Spike's suggestion. But something held her back. She wasn't sure if it was fear that they'd simply reject her idea out of hand or fear that fear that she'd raise Willow's hopes for no reason, she only knew it was important for her to keep her silence for now.



Dawn grabbed another handful of popcorn and watched Xander and Anya pretend they were not in love. She noticed Buffy's none to subtle smirk over Xander and Anya's attempted subterfuge, and listened to the sound of the upstairs bathroom door closing behind Willow. Tomorrow, she was going to bring Tara back, back for Willow, back for Buffy, back for Xander and Anya, back for all of them. Tomorrow she was taking back her family once and forever.



Edited by: technopagan78 at: 12/23/02 8:56:39 pm


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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Mon Dec 23, 2002 10:58 pm 
Finished in the bathroom, Willow softly padded into the half lit bedroom. Tara had moved in her sleep and was now struggling weakly inside the covers. As gently as she could, Willow began easing the blonde free of her bounds. She wasn't surprised, however, when blue eyes opened sleepily. "I didn't mean to wake you, but I was worried the blanket was going to cut off the circulation in your legs." She whispered, her smile sounding inside her voice.



Now that Tara was awake, Willow pulled back all of the covers, and quickly readjusted the sheets and the two blankets. "You missed the pizza party, but I saved you a couple of slices. I can heat them up again for tomorrow's lunch. What do you say?" Not expecting a response, Willow was pleased to get a smile.



The hacker went to the dresser and pulled out a fresh set of pajamas. She changed into them quickly, draping her clothes over the corner chair. Tara's eyes never left her. "Is it okay with you if we bunk together, tonight? The sofa is kind of lumpy and my back is giving me fits." Willow approached the bed, watching as Tara moved back, making space for the red head to slip inside the covers.



Taking Tara's movement as permission, Willow took up her side of the bed, flipping off the nightlight as she slipped under the covers. It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, but she soon saw Tara clearly frightened and huddled on the other side of the bed. Her heart aching, unsure if the girl had been spooked by the absence of the nightlight or by her, Willow slowly reached out, her hand moving lightly over the bottom sheet until it reached Tara's cheekbone. "Baby, it's okay. Just come to me."



Tara turned her face into Willow's hand and breathed in deeply. A few seconds later she unfurled her arms and legs and slowly began to creep towards Willow. Her eyes remained half closed and unfocused.



"That's it, baby. It's okay. You just need to come to me." Willow crooned as Tara came closer, finally folding herself into Willow's arms.



As Willow placed a kiss on her hair, Tara tucked her head underneath Willow's chin and breathed in the scent of Willow's skin. She fell back into her dreams while silently telling Willow the words of her heart, her lips brushing against the soft skin of Willow's neck.



Throughout the afternoon, Tara's doubts about the wisdom of following a cat while searching for a bookstore grew significantly. So much so that when fortune struck and she found herself standing in front of "Books of Shadows, an independent bookstore since 1348," she blinked several times fully expecting the three storey Art Deco building to melt away into the ether.



She looked down at the cat and chuckled. "Well, it would appear they've remodeled a good deal since their founding." As usual, the cat did not respond to her humor. Peering through the wide store window, Tara spotted a long counter; behind and perpendicular to it were a dozen rows of tall bookshelves. What she could not see was a proprietor, or customers for that matter. Not sure why she suddenly had bats flying about and inside her stomach, she mounted the four steps that led to the front door, waited a moment, and then made her entrance.



As she passed through the entryway, she was hit by a wave of cool dry air and the smells of ink and paper, drying leather and old paste. Since there was no bell above the door, she called out a tentative sounding "hello," but heard nothing in response. "This is odd." She remarked to the cat, which was now weaving back and forth between her feet. Behind her, she listened to the door close with a soft thud. Feeling like a trespasser, half expecting to sound an alarm of some kind, she stepped towards the counter.



On the counter top she spied two open ledgers, a fountain pen and inkwell, a pair of wire rimmed glasses, an abacus, and, most remarkably, a pattern of tarot cards. "Celtic cross," Tara murmured to herself, "that pattern didn't become popular until the twentieth century. Interesting." Again she called out a hello, and again there was no response. "I wonder why someone would lay down a pattern and then simply leave?"



Wooden floorboards creaked as she moved around to the other side of the counter. Underneath the counter top were several deep shelves. She pushed aide a wheeled stool to look more closely. One shelf contained additional ledgers, while another held two leather bound books volumes of poetry by William Blake. The remaining shelves were empty. She called out a third hello and heard only the faint echo of her own voice. When she pressed her fingers against the chair's seat cushion and it felt cool to the touch, she wasn't surprised. Her gut instinct already told her the store had been empty of people for hours, if not days.



Tara absentmindedly leaned down and stroked the top of the cat's head. "It seems we have the place to ourselves. Want to go exploring?" As usual, the cat met her question with silence. "I doubt the proprietors allow cats, so if you don't mind?" Tara asked, as she carefully scooped it up and slipped it inside the interior pocket of her outer blouse. Expecting a major kitty protest, she was pleasantly surprised when the cat simply curled up and went to sleep. "You are a most unusual creature. Whoever you belong to must miss you a good deal, I think."



At first, the stacks did not seem to hold to any particular order, at least not any of the orders of which she was immediately familiar: the alphabet, the Dewey Decimal system, the Library of Congress system. It was only gradually that she realized that the books were arranged by schools of magicks: spells of white and black, enchantments simple and complex, conjures of all kinds, divination by card, rune and dice, and scores of other schools, some familiar to her and others so far from her experience that she could make no sense of them. While she found many volumes written in English, German and French, the majority was written in Latin and Ancient Greek. She spotted a few written in Sumerian, several dozen written in Russian, and more than a handful written in languages she'd never seen before, including six written in what she could only describe as number. Books that predated the printing press stood next to books published within the last decade. Some books were printed on fine paper and bound in leather or sturdy cloth, while others were little more than inexpensive paperback editions. The one thing they held in common was that none were published by any company of which she was familiar.



Along the eastern side of the store she discovered a small section devoted to the histories of the greater and lesser societies. Here she found the histories of the Knights of Byzantium and the Waldenses, the chronicles of the Watcher's Council and the accounts of the Eleusinian mysteries. She also found genealogies by the dozens, family trees that traced the descent of witches. Most of these were handwritten and in the same hand, a lifetime of anonymous work.



But it was in the back of the store, behind an unlocked door marked "Private," that she found what she'd been seeking. They were kept in many forms. The oldest were written as scrolls and the most splendid were illuminated with intricate designs of gold. Most were bound in leather, although many were bound in cloth. They were ordered by the birth and death dates of their authors and encompassed all countries of the world. Tara's eyes scanned the many shelves until she recognized the familiar dusty red cover. She reached up, ready to pull it from the shelf, when she felt their screams.



Inside her shirt, tiny cat claws hooked through the material and dug painfully into her skin. She whirled about, holding in her cry of pain, and listened carefully. The screams were coming from outside. Heedlessly, she rushed out of the back room and into the main stacks. Her heart beat in time with the pounding of her boots against the wooden floors. As she rounded the corner, she saw through the glass doors the flash of explosives firing in the distance. Still cuddling the cat against her chest, she pushed out the door, and ran into the street.



From the streetlights they hung, their throats slashed, their blood pooled beneath their feet. The smell of the blood filled the air, sickly sweet. In the distance she heard more screams, men and women, adults and children. She was supposed to stop this. Black soot began falling from the sky, stinging her eyes, filling her throat. She turned and ran back into the bookstore, tripping over the door jam and sprawling across the floor.



The cat untangled itself from her shirt and darted into the store. Tara scrambled after it, chasing it down the various store aisles until the cat skidded to a halt in front of a half open floor vent. She dove on the floor, skidding forward on her stomach as the cat spun about to face her. Its fur on end, its eyes like slits, the cat howled a long and angry cry before slipping through the slats of the floor vent and making its escape.



Frantically, Tara pulled away the aluminum grating and followed the cat inside a narrow, steel-lined tunnel. Surrounded by darkness, she called out to the cat, trying to urge it to come back to her. In the distance, she could hear the cat mewing softly. On her hands and knees, she followed the sound for several yards. When she came to a branch in the tunnel, she had to listen carefully for the cat's signal before turning to her left. After several more yards, she saw a faint light up ahead.



As she drew closer to the light, the tunnel narrowed and she dropped down from her hands and knees and began scooting along on her stomach. The walls of the tunnel became rough and something caught against her leg, ripping into her pants and tearing into the soft flesh of the back of her thigh.



She felt her blood begin seeping into her pants and dripping along her inner thigh. She ignored it, like she ignored the throbbing of the wound itself. Instead, she continued moving forward, pulling herself along with her hands, pushing herself forward with her feet. Around her the air grew thick, but the light grew closer and she began to move faster, sliding on her stomach, until she reached the opening.



She fell through the door and landed face down, her breath rushing out of her lungs. Wheezing for air, she flipped on to her back and looked up, her eye still burning from the soot and the smoke. Silent screams ripped from her throat and her body recoiled in horror as she recognized the familiar criss-cross of metal bars.



Above her, a night sky glittered with a thousand stars, and in all directions she could see other cages, each of them filled with a single prisoner. There was no hope of escape. Despair turned to blind anger and she reached above, grabbing hold of the cold metal, and fruitlessly trying to push it up and away. Howling oaths against the evil that had won once again, she let her rage build inside of her, and gave into her fury. For a few minutes she became what she was not, but soon the rage began to drain away, and it was only then that she heard the clinking of metal against metal.



She turned and saw the cat digging against the grating, pulling at it with its tiny paws. Tara fell to her knees and began pushing amidst the metal and the dirt. Her fingers dug deep, wrapping around the ancient metal bars. She pulled up, her shoulders straining, her fingers now bloodied, and slowly she felt the section give way. As soon as she pulled it aside, she and the cat began digging into the soft earth. Together, they pushed away the dry soil, creating great heaps in the other corners of the cage.



As they dug deeper, she began to feel the root systems of the earth spread apart, opening up to her, welcoming her. When the pit became to deep, Tara slipped the tiny cat back into her shirt, smiling as it curled up in its familiar home against her breasts. The dry soil became damp as she came closer to the waters of underground rivers. The root systems began to reach for her, catching around her hands, pulling her inside, giving her safe haven.



Behind her, above her, the earth closed again, hiding the tracks of her escape. Tara turned within the earth's embrace, breathing in its wondrous smells and feasting on its rich flavors. Her body relaxed as root systems closed around her arms and legs, her hips and waist and she was pulled deeper still, until at last she fell into the rivers unseen and she began drifting on her back, safe within the green.





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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Mon Dec 23, 2002 11:44 pm 
:clap Another great update! Poor Tara. I hope she can talk again soon.

-----------



JennY





"They're not cooties, they're lice. And they're nothing to be ashamed of."-- Milhouse Van Houten



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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Tue Dec 24, 2002 5:42 am 
Sigh.



This just gets better and better.



I must have read part one half a dozen times, and can still go back and read it anew and it's like it's the first time.



To say that this fic rocks is an understatement. Already it's up there in my top five and if it carries on like this, when it's done, I'll be printing it out, binding it and keeping it as a hard copy next to my bed...it really is that good.



*Good things come to those who wait*

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

love and kisses

Still Waters



..... she wears secrets in her hair......



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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux (Chapter Sixteen)
PostPosted: Tue Dec 24, 2002 6:37 am 
Hmmm, seems I missed an update... here we go then :)



Tara having trouble adjusting was to be expected. I don't understand how anyone could leave her alone in her current state, guess thats teenagers for you.



Interesting to see that Xander is still avoiding responsibility and projecting it onto Spike, using Anya/Spike's one-night-stand as added leverage when needed. He really is a sore loser isn't he ? Annoyed the hell out of me. Yes, Spike isn't all nice but he did find Tara and bring her back.



As on TV I found Dawn uttering threads to Spike laughable, esp. considering she only knows half the facts at most. Then again, I've never liked Dawn (based on s6 mostly) so that might be a factor here :)



Didn't like Dawn not mentioning Lethe's Brahm to anyone and then looking it up in a book al by herself. She should stay well away from things she knows next to nothing about. That part actually had me worried that the *cough*wise*cough* teenager was about to try something herself.



Amazing that Willow didn't make more fuss over Dawn not watching Tara properly. I guess she wanted to check on Tara most of all. Calling Giles might not have been a smart idea indeed, exactly WHAT do you want to ask him ? I don't know if Giles will inform the rest of the council, but it's a chance I wouldn't have risked myself.



Xander's attitude really annoyed the hell out of me this chapter, did I mention that already ??



Grimmy

"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

Edited by: Grimlock72 at: 12/24/02 4:40:46 am


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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux (Chapter Sixteen)
PostPosted: Tue Dec 24, 2002 7:24 am 
Wow, another great update.



You describe Tara's thoughts and actions so well, keep wondering just where it will go with each update.

Nice to see all of the gang being supportive of Willow.

BV



"In front of total strangers won't you kiss me, Flowers for no reason but you miss me - OOH, I wanna be in love"

Melissa Etheridge-Skin



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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Tue Dec 24, 2002 12:19 pm 
Wow. New updates! You are just too good to us. :D

I's really hard to see new Tara not being able to speak. I'm always hoping that she's going to say something, no matter what. I was touched by Willow's words at Joyce's and Tara's grave. And yes, i really like your Dawn in this story. She is adult like. Awesome updates! :clap

snuggle79 :wave

__________________

"I got so lost"

"I found you, i will always find you"





Edited by: snuggle79 at: 12/24/02 10:21:24 am


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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux (chapter 17)
PostPosted: Tue Dec 24, 2002 12:47 pm 
Okaaaay, all up to date now :)



I wonder if Tara's dream/nightmare is based on things that happened to her and if so what things DID happen and which one did not ? Good thing is Willow is sleeping in the same bed to calm her down and comfort her a bit. It must be hard for Willow visiting Tara's grave and taking care of otherTara later.



I like Buffy making something of her life and actually doing stuff besides slaying. I'm not so sure what to make of Dawn, she whines a lot less thats good but doesn't make her adult.



Dawn is still planning to do something with/to Tara without telling anybody else. Something she doesn't know much about. Thats not wise to put it mildly, even if it's for the best intentions... last time Dawny did something spell-like things didn't work out to well did they ?



Could be she's copying Buffy's behaviour of witholding information and acting alone. Bad rolemodel in that regard :) . I just hope nothing goes wrong, for Tara and Dawn's sake. (to much brahm might cause acute memory-loss for all we know)



Bit worried here.....



Grimmy

"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine



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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux (chapter 17)
PostPosted: Wed Dec 25, 2002 7:22 am 
Great update!

I hope tara will be fine soon. She just needs to find her way out and I hope Dawn isn't doing anything sutpid!!!!!



Stef :p



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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux (chapter 17)
PostPosted: Wed Dec 25, 2002 6:34 pm 
another well-crafted installment from technopagan. there is so much to like here! I really love the domesticity you've created here; all the little things that normalize life in the summers house while showing how much everyone cares for one another. the shopping, the routines, tv night and ice cream. very sweet. and it was uncanny that just as I was thinking, "who's going to take care of tara during the day?" clem shows up. clem! that was brilliant. he is a sweet and loveable character, and it's nice to see him showing his reticent butchness (the commment about kicking spike's ass) and his loyalty to...well, anyone he's given his friendship to.



as for the substance of what's actually going on here...I stand by my theory, it seems like our two taras' memories are merging somehow. tara remembered willow "getting glory out of her head," and that thing in the bath, before she passed out, was a little unclear-- did the kiss really happen, or was it in tara's head? but she did remember willow bathing her. possibly remembering her brain-sucked time? and the "dream" she keeps following is definitely leading her somewhere. hopefully back to willow? and I'm in the pro-dawn camp on this one-- get your family back, dawnie! there were certainly times on the show that she annoyed me, but hey, that's not her fault, it's the damn writers. she's trying to be the best she can be for the people she loves, and she's done enough research on the lethe's bramble tea to make sure it won't hurt tara, so I say, go for it dawnie.



I can't wait to see what's going to happen next!



--jenny

Cordy: I personally don't think it's possible to come up with

a crazier plan.


Oz: We attack the mayor with hummus.



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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux--responses to posts
PostPosted: Thu Dec 26, 2002 1:12 am 
Hello and Happy Holidays. This is not an update. It is instead an overdue acknowledgement of kind kitten comments. First of all, thank you for the many posts. DR finally scored its little lighting bolt! Silly as it may sound, I saw it on Christmas Eve and my day was made!



Xtara--Thank you for taking the time to post. Trust me when I say fan fic writers live for posts from other readers and writers!



Oddkitten--I hope part 2 is upholding your expectations!



Cindipitude--What a lovely thing to say about our girl. Not only smart and sexy, but thoughtful as well. You must be quite the catch *g*.



Doofus aka Lisa--While I worry about keeping people up past their bedtimes, I am delighted to hear DR "grabbed" you. And thank you also for feeling protective of both our Taras.



Xita--What can I say but thank you for the kind comments and giving me a place to share my writing. All my life I've wanted to write fiction and now the Kitten board has helped me not only to achieve my dream, but also to aim to write my own characters. Thank you for loving "the girl" as well as our Tara. I think you are right in observing that she seems younger because she's been underexposed to, as you put it, profound human emotions. She has a lot to learn, from both our Tara and from Willow.



Darkmagicwillow--I always keep my promises in one fashion or another. I wish I had more of part 2 finished, but it will be done come mid-February--just in time for the big event in Vegas. I did a really dumb thing and accepted a writing commission at the same time as I was struggling with part two of DR and trying to finish the school term, but I am back on track now!



Grimlock--Thank you for taking the time to post twice. I'm sorry that you do not like Xander. I've been trying to reclaim his character, as it were, by showing him in a more complex light--angry at Anya and Spike, but even more angry at himself, trying to make amends, but struggling with how he can be a best friend to Willow and Buffy. Post season six, he's a bit of a mess, but I'm giving him my best shot. The same is true of Dawn. I see her as someone who is struggling hard with growing up--she's faced tremendous loss (her mother, her beloved Tara, and her sister) and she sometimes acts rashly (as teens do), but she acts out of love. For me, Willow is the one who sees her best, but that's probably because, for me at least, while she is Buffy's younger sister, she is much more Willow's mirror.



Tulipp--You are one of the most observant readers on the board. I am so happy to see your comments. You are right. I am trying to show how characters see one another differently. It's nice to know my attempts at this are working.



Frumpycat--I agree with your criticism that characters too often talk past one another on BTVS--and they didn't always--which irks me all the more.



Dexis-don't worry, the Dawn of DR is much more true to her character than the Dawn from BTVS.



Stillwaters-thank you for the praise!



Barnabasvamp--I'm glad to hear I am still keeping people surprised with the plot twists!



Snuggle-- I'm so glad you liked the Spike bits. Of all the characters, he is the most difficult for me to write. I know what I want to do with Tara/the Girl, Willow, Xander, Buffy, Anya, Dawn, etc., but Spike is this huge conundrum, as his relationship to Buffy. By contrast, Dawn and Xander are a snap. Thank you also for your comments regarding the scene at Joyce and Tara's graves. I struggled for days trying to find the right tone, the right words. It's nice to know I found some measure of success. And thank you for liking Dawn. Since her character is a bit underwritten on BTVS I've been fleshing her out using my niece as a model--who is the same age as Dawn. One minute she's a teenager/adult the next she's a child. She wants to act on her own, but she needs her family's love and support tremendously. As I said to Grimlock, for me, whatever her mistakes, Dawn acts out of love. I can't forget that she was willing to give her life at the end of season five.



JewWitch aka Jenny-- Thanks for the A+--I am such a big nerd--I love good grades! I agree that BTVS ran roughshod over Buffy's likely responses to the events that closed season six. After being shot, having someone shoot into her house who, in turn, kills her friend and causes her best friend not only to lose the love of her life but, for a brief moment in time, to lose her soul--how could Buffy not be all at the same time grateful to have kept her own life but angry over her injury and what that injury could have meant for Dawn, overcome with sorrow over her and Willow's loss but filled with horror at her best friend's fall into dark magicks and violence. In other words, how could Buffy not be dealing simultaneously with anger, sorrow, gratitude, love and horror. But that's the problem with too much television-not just BTVS-things happen but insufficient time is given to dealing with the aftermath. Buffy's responses have to be complex and contradictory, but at the end of the day, Willow remains Buffy's best friend, and that can't be forgotten. Thank you also for liking Clem-he is such a sweetheart. Finally, like Tulip, you are one heck of a close reader. Good catch in your reading of the dream sequences. What is going on there?



Okay, I think I have caught up with my comments. If I missed anyone, please accept my apologies. I love finding your responses, but I dislike posting unless I am also posting installments-as Willow once said, it's an emotion, it's called guilt-- ; )



I hope all of you who are reading DR are enjoying its length and not thinking I am belaboring its points. When I started it, I wanted to find a way to "correct" the errors of season six, but somewhere along the line I realized that I didn't need to do that. Plenty of other fan fic writers had already helped us/me to "forget" the BTVS conclusion to specific events. And somewhere along the line I also realized that DR was really a story about memory (and loss) and memory's role in the construction of who we are as human beings. What I am only slowly beginning to realize is just how complex memory really is, and how complex the question of whence comes memory. I keep thinking about the belief of the ancient Greeks that creativity (or what they called innovation) comes out of memory-it's important to remember that Mnemosyne, the goddess of memory, is the mother of the muses. In other words, without memory there is no art. This in turn causes me to wonder more and more about the relationship between memory, creativity and the soul.



And at the same time I keep thinking about the many comments I've read here at the Kitten and in personal emails to me that have expressed real affection for "the Girl" without mentioning that she is as much your creation as mine! After all, as I have also been coming to realize, she is really a sum of many different memories/creations found across fandom-memories/creations of Tara under different circumstances. I think the reason so many of you feel protective of her is because she lives and breathes because of your memories and love. When Tara tells Willow that the Girl is "her," that "her" is only partly the creation of BTVS, she is much more the creation of fandom.



Ready, steady, there is more angst up ahead. But as I said to Darkmagicwillow, I always keep my promises. There will be more plot twists ahead-but in the end our girls will be able to reclaim what was taken from them-although I haven't even begun to take account of all that was taken. And while there my be angst up ahead, there is also a good bit of honest to goodness, old fashioned, heartfelt, love sick (yep, all that good nineteenth century stuff) romance. In other words, look forward to some seriously mushy bits. But that's all I'm telling.





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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux--responses to posts
PostPosted: Thu Dec 26, 2002 9:45 am 
HOLY CRAPIOLA!! I don't believe I missed an update! Two chapters worth!! ok, I'm off to read.

Tk's new and improved "GrrArgg"...Tk's Heaven


"I've become really protective of her. I want to make sure if Tara comes back, it's for good reason." -Amber Benson
Tara ate her, devoured her from beneath. -The Edge of Silence giving new meaning to this season's catch phrase.
"Got it: that's a 'yes' to petals; a 'no' to pricks. I should remember that more often." -On Second Thought



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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux--responses to posts
PostPosted: Fri Dec 27, 2002 12:56 pm 
Excellent.



A very interesting tale being woven here. Can I say I am really enjoying your characterizations here. These are characters more like the ones I loved. Not the pale shadows on the screen.



Your Dawn is excellent.



Keep this up, it is wonderful to read.



Warlock

-----

Web Warlock

The Other Side,
home of Liber Mysterium: The Netbook of Witches and Warlocks


"I never try anything, I just do it. Wanna try me." - Thunder Kiss '65, White Zombie



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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux--responses to posts
PostPosted: Fri Dec 27, 2002 4:21 pm 
I've only just found this story, but it's proved a fascinating way to spend the better part of Christmas.



The emotional complexity of the characters is amazing and I'm so glad it's not limited to just the main characters. Reading your comments about 'the girl' I would have to agree, my reaction to her is as much based on Tara's AU versions in fandom as her BtVS character, if not more so - which would explain the sense of protectiveness and empathy she invokes.



Being privy to Willow's pain and confusion is something special, and seeing her having to face loosing Tara for a second time was heartbreaking. But I'm looking forward to the romance to come :heart



Dawn, yah-ish! Clem, yah! Kitty, yah!



Looking forward to the next update



RalSt



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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux--responses to posts
PostPosted: Fri Dec 27, 2002 4:55 pm 
Really like how you have shown Dawn here. She's been through such a lot, and has matured as a result. Her caring for Tara, and her observation about how everyone is distancing themselves are examples of this.



The scene where Willow talks to Tara at the graveside was just heart wrenching, her doubts about whether she was helping Tara, even her confession about not taking her school work so seriously.



Again I'm so pleased at the dynamic you've portrayed between the Scoobs. This is the close knit group of friends who work things out together, as it should be. Also, I'm really intrigued by Tara's dreams, and love how they're presented. Thanks so much.

Adding up the total of a love that's true, multiply life by the power of two
Indigo Girls



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 Post subject: ...
PostPosted: Fri Dec 27, 2002 7:18 pm 
:kiss ;)



jenny- they mean the thread's on fire with hits..

"We're forgetting about the troll.
Let's pay attention to the troll." Tara, Triangle

Edited by: Rane018 at: 12/27/02 11:34:56 pm


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 Post subject: Re: ...
PostPosted: Sat Dec 28, 2002 12:29 am 
wow, you know you're really hooked on a fic when you enjoy the author's theoretical discourse on the story as much as the story itself! (and...you also know you're a nerd...:rolleyes ) but honestly, I think the best stories are the ones that are really about something, on a more abstract or even archetypal level, that's beyond the action. they have, oh you know, what's that word...substance. :wink

and what you said about memory was intriguing. I can't wait to see how it's going to play out. I have complex feelings about memory, myself, because my mom has a disorder that profoundly affects her ability to form new short-term memories, while her long-term memories remain unaffacted-- so while she'll ask me ten times in a row where I'm going and when I'll be back, she can recall that my favorite snack at age two was pickled watermelon rind and cottage cheese on melba toast. I, on the other hand, have a photographic memory, and am eternally doomed to be resented for never forgetting anything that anyone does or says in my presence...it's interesting.



much like this excellent story!!! update soon?

--jenny



ps-- question: what do those little lightning bolts next to a thread mean, anyway??

Cordy: I personally don't think it's possible to come up with

a crazier plan.


Oz: We attack the mayor with hummus.



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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux--responses to posts
PostPosted: Sat Dec 28, 2002 7:44 am 
Quote:
a story about memory (and loss) and memory's role in the construction of who we are as human beings.


Finally I understand why I got so hooked to your story. It's not only the brilliant and creative writing, it's the depth of the question underneath. It reminds me of the questions one of my favorite non-fiction authors, Oliver Sacks, deals with in all his books.



It's fascinating to compare these different approaches, a fictional story, firmly placed in the fantasy genre and real life case studies of neurological disorders, firmly placed in science. Thoughtprovoking, to say the least - and I always love it when my old and lazy brain cells get something to do. :)



To those who never heard of Oliver Sacks but are interested in questions about memory, perception, personality and our concept of reality itself (are there ever two persons who share the same reality?), I highly recommend reading "The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat" or "An Anthropologist on Mars". For a start you may watch "Awakenings", one of Robin Williams best performances ever (because he has no chance for his signature hyper-active sillyness) - and Robert DeNiro isn't bad, either.

_______________________________
Though here at journey's end I lie in darkness buried deep, beyond all towers strong and high, beyond all mountains steep,
above all shadows rides the Sun and Stars for ever dwell: I will not say the Day is done, nor bid the Stars farewell.



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 Post subject: Re: ...
PostPosted: Sat Dec 28, 2002 7:49 am 
Wow. I really don't know what to say. I mean, this fic is so good. Tara trying to speak, Willow trying to deal...the dreams...oh boy..I'm just waiting for the next installment...

Tk's new and improved "GrrArgg"...Tk's Heaven


"I've become really protective of her. I want to make sure if Tara comes back, it's for good reason." -Amber Benson
Tara ate her, devoured her from beneath. -The Edge of Silence giving new meaning to this season's catch phrase.
"Got it: that's a 'yes' to petals; a 'no' to pricks. I should remember that more often." -On Second Thought



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 Post subject: Re: DR (more thank you comments to kind readers)
PostPosted: Mon Dec 30, 2002 12:40 am 
I know, I know, where is the next chapter? I promise you it's coming. But I would rather get it right than post early and I hope you all agree *g*.



Web Warlock--Thank you for the mention of DR's Dawnie. As so many of you already know, she is quite dear to my heart.



RalSt--Oh dear, I hope you were not hiden away reading DR's many pages (it's about 180 pages of text!) when you should have been enjoying Christmas cheer! (Of course the reason I am so late on my chapters is because I am enjoying too much Christmas cheer!) I am so very happy to learn you too see the roots of "the girl" in other fan fictions.



Mollyig--Thank you for keeping up with DR these many months and for your kind comments regarding the Scoobs. They are such a wonderful crew. Why would anyone not want to explore their inter-relationships? (lol, don't answer that question!)



Rane--kisses and hugs to my emergency go to question girl for all things W/T.



JewWitch aka Jenny--Thank you for your thoughts on memory. I am so sorry to hear of your mother's disorder. How terrible is the irony that you should be so blessed and she so harmed. It's so easy to overlook the importance of memory in our lives until it is taken away.



Justastraightdog--Wow, I have not thought of Awakenings in years. It's time to hit the video store! Your post also reminded me that I need to move The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat from my read soon list to my read now list.



Tk--I am so happy that you are pleased. I keep worrying that the dreams are too "out there." But they really are important to the story. Expect more of them in the chapters to come.



Best Wishes to All, Technopagan









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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Tue Dec 31, 2002 6:35 pm 
Chapter Eighteen



Willow woke with the sun, but consciousness returned slowly as she shook herself free of her dreams. For the first time in over a week her waking body did not ache from sleeping on the downstairs couch. Instead, she felt wonderfully relaxed, lying beneath her familiar down comforter and cuddling next to Tara's warm skin.



Her eyes snapped open and she jerked back. Panic sent her usually overly complex thought processes into overload and then momentary meltdown. Ready to bolt from the bed, it was only Tara's sleepy protest at her pulling away that stopped her. She forced herself to lie back, only to have to fight a new surge of panic as Tara moved closer, seeking reassurance inside the circle of Willow's arms.



Willow allowed her hand to move against the scarred yet soft skin of Tara's back, soothing the girl back to sleep as she gradually reconstructed the events of the previous night. Sometime around three in the morning she'd woken to find Tara tangled amid the covers and crying in her sleep. As she freed the blonde from the snarl of sheets and blankets, she noticed the heat coming from the girl's body.



Night fevers had plagued her since the night of the conjure. At first, they seemed to be part of the healing process, and in the hours following the rejoining, Willow had watched in amazement as Tara's wounds and bruises seemed to heal before her eyes while waves of heat rose from the girl's skin. But later, when the ravings began, and later still, when Tara could not shake free of her dreams, Willow began to wonder if the fevers had somehow damaged the girl's mind. In the immediate days afterward, while Dawn and Buffy were at school, Xander and Anya has scoured the library and she the Web searching for other instances of such fevers but they had found nothing. And now, when the fevers returned, Willow did as she'd done the night before, freeing Tara from her nightclothes, comforting her with cool cloths and quietly sung melodies, and holding her until she settled.



But this was the first time Willow had fallen asleep, too. Always before, she'd left Tara to return to her own bed. Or was it, she wondered. Did the afternoon naps they'd taken together count? And what of yesterday morning's brief respite before starting her day? Her mind tried to wrap itself around the implications of what she was doing.



Since the girl's arrival, she'd struggled to understand what they were to one another? A question that led to another and more difficult question: who was the girl really? Willow's head hurt from thinking about it. Her lover had called the girl "me." But how could she be Tara? Or more to the point, how could she be "her Tara"? Yes, there had been a connection between them before the girl had submitted to the rejoining, but it was a connection formed out of shared sympathy. It had nothing to do with the bond of love she'd known with her Tara, or so Willow argued to herself.



The girl murmured something in her sleep, pulling Willow's attention from the storm of thoughts inside her head. Blonde tresses had fallen over Tara's face and Willow pushed them back, softly asking, "What, sweetie? Can you talk to me?"



More words came from Tara's mouth, but they offered no meaning, they formed no sentences, at least none that Willow could understand. Tara moved closer into the shelter of Willow's arms, seeking comfort but creating even more confusion inside Willow's heart as the red head tried to ignore the soft press of Tara's breasts against her pajama top and the gentle movement of Tara's legs against her own.



The hacker's thoughts turned to what it had felt like to care for her lover when Glory had stolen away Tara's sanity, and she decided it was not the same as this. The intimacy of caring for her lover was not the same as the intimacy of caring for a stranger, even if the stranger wore her lover's face and brought out of her a tenderness that she had thought she'd lost forever on that horrible day last spring. Tara moved again in Willow's arms, bringing her lips to Willow's neck, pressing each of the words she was trying to speak into Willow's skin and sending Willow's thoughts back to the previous day and memories of Tara's lips moving against her own. Was it a kiss or was it something else, she wondered. The harder question was what did she want it to be? All she felt certain of was the panic she'd felt when Tara's head and face had fallen beneath the surface of the water. She had nearly fallen into the tub herself as she frantically pulled the girl up, her only other impulse to scream to Dawn for help.



Tara whimpered slightly, and Willow realized she was holding her too tightly. The hacker relaxed her arms and then brushed a kiss along Tara's temple. "Sorry, baby. I was just thinking about last night, and the scare you gave me when you fell back into the water." A grin crossed the hacker's face. "Well, at least this time, Dawnie came to the rescue, which was much less disturbing than the last time when Xander had to do the honors." Willow's expression turned sheepish. "He's been my best friend since forever, but there are some things I'd rather not share with him, one of them being your body."



She blanched before the words were off her tongue. By what right could she speak of "sharing" Tara's body. Her thoughts in hyper drive once more, ready once again to bolt from the bed, all came to a halt as Tara began gently rubbing her tummy. At first, Tara's touch was clumsy and uncertain, but soon her fingers tips began tracing small overlapping circles on Willow's pajama top. Relaxing despite herself, the hacker glanced at the clock. It was not quite seven. Outside, the rain had started again, heavy drops falling against the windowpane. The misgivings of the morning fading, she fell back asleep.



It was almost nine when Willow woke for the second time. She knew right away that Tara was awake. Still, when she turned and saw bright blue eyes looking at her from only inches away, she startled. Her tongue felt big inside her mouth, and she had to swallow several times before declaring, "I bet you're hungry. No dinner last night and here I am sleeping while you're waiting for your breakfast."



A wide grin spread across Tara's face as she moved to capture Willow in a full body hug and then began to rock back and forth, the happiness she could not say in words sparkling in her eyes.



Willow couldn't help but laugh as she hugged Tara back. "Why do I have the feeing that you've been up and waiting for me for a least an hour." Still chuckling, she disentangled herself from Tara's arms. "Okay, first things first." She grabbed the abandoned nightshirt from the end of the bed and slipped it over Tara's head and arms. "How hungry are you? Shower first, or breakfast?" An unexpected rumbling from Tara's tummy answered Willow's question. "Guess it's breakfast first, followed by showers."



She held out her hand and drew Tara from the bed, and then began laughing again as the blonde immediately wrapped herself back in Willow's arms. "When did you turn into cling-girl, huh?" Willow teased tenderly. For a moment the questions and doubts that had plagued the red head's thoughts earlier in the morning returned, but she pushed them away deciding all that mattered was that Tara needed her. And in that realization, she suddenly understood the reason for the girl's displays of affection, and a lump rose in her throat.



"I'm sorry I had to leave you, yesterday and the days before." Willow whispered near the girl's ear. "More than anything, I wanted to stay home and take care of you, but I had to go to school. Forgive me?" Tara's arms closed around her shoulders and she wondered if that meant yes. "But even when I was away, you never left my thoughts. Yesterday, I thought about you all day, in lecture, at the Magic Box. I wondered if you had a nice lunch, and if you were dreaming of me." Blonde hair tickled against her cheek, and Willow laid her head on top of Tara's shoulder, letting herself enjoy the comfort of being held. "All day, I thought about you, because I missed you so much." The admission off her tongue, she felt another of the burdens on her heart life away. From over Tara's shoulder, Willow watched the rain slide down the window pane, letting herself drift inside the moment until her stomach also rumbled, causing Tara to burst into peals of laughter.



Still holding Tara's upper arms, Willow stepped back, grinning. "So I guess the real question is pancakes or cereal?" Tara continued to giggle and Willow dropped her hands to capture and pull on Tara's. "Come on, baby. Let's go see if Buffy left us some coffee?" As they exited the bedroom, a sudden gust of rain violently shook the house, causing Willow to jump and Tara to burst into a fresh round of giggles. "Okay, not exactly nerves of steel girl, today." Willow glanced at Tara's hand in hers. "Since it's such a blustery day, maybe pancakes and cereal, and coffee and juice. All of which could go into rumbly bellies."



Tara jerked to a stop. Blue eyes caught on green and Tara, now trembling, quickly folded herself in Willow's arms.



Not sure what had upset the blonde, Willow gently rubbed Tara's back. But her concern that Tara was about to have one of her episodes, ended when her stomach rumbled a second time causing Tara to burst into yet another round of giggles.



"Are you laughing at me?" Willow carefully disentangled herself from Tara's arms and looked into the blonde's brightly smiling face. It seemed whatever had spooked the blonde was forgotten. "Maybe I'll put out some yogurt, too" She nodded her head, and then burst into laughter herself when Tara expertly mimicked her gesture. "Where did my little witch learn to be such a tease? Is this Buffy's influence?" Willow asked, still laughing. "And how did you know it would be the way to my heart." Not sure what she meant by her words, Willow tugged Tara's hand. "Come on, let's get this day started."



The rain was still falling when Willow finished tidying the bathroom. She sighed after glancing at the small clock that sat on the counter next to the little dish of stones and shells Dawn had collected their last time at the beach. It was coming near eleven. Breakfast and showers had taken longer than expected. Dejectedly, she realized the day was half over and she'd accomplished none of her goals. Downstairs, books needed to be read, research needed to be completed, and the morning's breakfast dishes, as well as the previous night's dinner dishes sat on the counter waiting to be washed. The hacker groaned at the thought of all of her tasks. After spending a solid week catching up on lectures and homework she was in no mood for work. With far less effort than Buffy or Xander would have imagined, she quickly managed to shut down reliable Willow's voice telling her to finish reading Gwinnup's Histories of Magicks and listen instead to whimsical Willow's voice telling her today was a play day.



Her heart light, and before common sense could return, Willow bounded down the stairs and found Tara where she'd left her, looking warm and cozy while sitting on the couch watching the rain drops slide down the window pane. The hacker had pulled Tara's hair back into a ponytail and dressed her in a pair of black running pants, a chocolate brown pullover top and a black cotton cardigan sweater. Willow thought she looked absolutely adorable.



"Hey baby. It's supposed to rain all day, but the last thing on earth I feel like doing is staying inside. Want to break out of here? We could run around the park and play in the puddles?"



Tara's head slowly turned from the window. Her eyes widened as she reached out and caught Willow's hand in her own. Holding tightly, she rose from the couch, and stood unsteadily on her sneaker-clad feet. When she found her balance, she reached with her other hand to lay her fingers over Willow's lips before dropping her hand back to her side.



Willow wondered if the gesture meant the girl understood what she was saying as she explained, "We'll have to wear our rain slickers. And you have to promise not to let go of my hand." Already knowing that she had Tara's promise, her face opened up to match Tara's happy grin. "Rainbows await us, and who know, maybe we'll even find the pot of gold?"



Notwithstanding the hacker's grand claims, however, reliable Willow's voice could not be entirely ignored. All quests for pots of gold would have to wait until proper clothes were found, and that meant putting on sensible shoes and waterproof coats. While searching the downstairs closet for the rain slickers she and her lover had bought the previous year, she ruminated over her decision to take Tara out of the house. For the past week she'd refused all of Dawn's pleas to take Tara grocery shopping or to the mall. Now she was about to take Tara out to play in the rain. She pondered without success her change in heart. She had no explanation or reason or justification except that it seemed right. The one thing she knew for sure: Dawnie would never let her live it down.



Deep inside the bowels of the closet, Willow pushed aside a box filled with colored pencils, crayons and magic markers, shoving it on to another box containing Christmas tree lights and groaned with frustration. The downstairs closet had been the household dumping ground for the past two years, and was filled to the brim with a hodgepodge of holiday decorations, Dawn's forgotten art projects, Buffy's torn clothes and broken weapons and everyone's abandoned sports gear. Just as she was about to give up the search, and find something else for her and Tara to wear, she found them, neatly folded underneath a box containing hers and Tara's ice skates. A familiar pang echoed inside her heart as she picked up the evidence of her lover's thoughtful hand. She held the garments to her chest and for a moment and let the grief take hold, but then just as quickly let it go. If there was one thing she knew for sure about her lover, the last thing she would have wanted was for her to hide with Tara inside the house.



Willow returned to the front room, and found Tara once again sitting perched on the couch and watching the raindrops roll down the windowpane. She tossed one of bright yellow rain slickers on to the couch and unfolded the other. "Let's get you into this thing, baby, and then we can get this show on the road."



Out on Sunnydale's mean streets the first serious storm of the season was taking its expected toll. Fallen branches and leaves clogged the storm sewers, most of the intersections were flooded, mudslides blocked one of the thoroughfares leading out of town, and everyone was happily driving amid the wreckage. The only events that brought out more people in their cars were earthquakes.



Willow pulled to a stop at the stop traffic light at Main and Magnolia and turned to look at Tara. Her breath caught in her throat. The blonde's lips were parted slightly and her eyes darted back and forth following the play of cars and pedestrians negotiating rain slicked streets and sidewalks. She seemed to realize Willow was watching her, and turned to look into the hacker's eyes. Her lips began to move silently and her eyes narrowed, but then she shook her head, smiled away her frustration and instead reached for Willow's hand. Pulling it away from the automatic shift, she drew it to her lips and pressed a kiss on Willow's fingertips.



A horn sounded behind them, letting a stunned Willow know the traffic light had turned green. Ignoring the pounding of her heart, Willow gently pulled her hand from Tara's, brought it back to the steering wheel, and let go of the brake. They drove another block, before Willow could speak. "We're going to get your voice back. We'll find a way. Giles is looking and Miss Hartness, too. I promise you, baby, things are going to be okay again." Her declaration more for herself than Tara, Willow drove another block before steeling another glance at the blonde and learning that the girl's attention had returned to the movement of cars and people.



A lump formed in the hacker's throat and she swallowed down, not wanting Tara to hear tears in her voice. "Each day you make yourself more a part of my heart. Do you know that?" Tara continued to look out the window, seemingly oblivious to Willow's words. "I look at you and the all the broken bits seem to heal just a little bit more."



The windshield wipers pushed the raindrops back and forth, turning them into tiny rivers that ran down the sides of the glass. Outside the car, the rainwater flowed away from the streets and into the gutters, making even larger rivers, rivers that people had to jump over to cross when the lights turned from "don't walk" to "walk." Her eyes caught on a little girl wearing a bright blue rain slicker, not unlike the yellow one she was wearing, and she wondered if the little girl belonged to a family. She hoped so.



She looked down and noticed again the black buckles that held shut her rain slicker. Before they left the house, Willow had carefully snapped shut each of the tiny fastenings on their coats, making sure they would not get wet and cold. But she never felt cold when Willow was nearby. Willow was like the sunlight, bright and warm. Willow's smile was golden and when Willow laughed all the scary things inside her head ran away. She breathed in the Willow-scent and felt it moving inside her body, through her muscles and across her skin. When Willow was nearby, Willow was everywhere.



The car moved through a big puddle, sending rainwater splashing outside her window and she remembered standing with Willow on Sunnydale pier watching the winter tide crash against the pilings. Willow had brought a thermos of hot chocolate. It was sweet against her tongue, and made her feel warm inside. She wondered if Willow remembered that day. They'd gone book shopping and Willow had found a found a bookmark with a picture of a tiny cat that Willow said looked like Miss Kitty Fantastico, but probably looked more like White Leg.



She hoped White Leg had found a nice dry place to weather out the storm. She wished even more that the little cat would find its way home to her. A loud truck rumbled next to Willow's car and she remembered that the Tsuris demons were coming and they ate little cats. If she could find her voice, she could tell Willow what was coming, and maybe they could find While Leg together.



Tara moved her hand to Willow's thigh and began to draw overlapping circles on Willow's pants' leg. And Willow began to wonder if Tara was trying to tell her something. Were the circles like the words she couldn't speak? Could they be signs or symbols?



The blonde's eyes were focused on something outside the car, but Willow couldn't guess what. Suddenly, the constant ache of not knowing Tara's thoughts swelled inside chest. Tara seemed to change from hour to hour, sometimes from moment to moment, moving on a continuum between childlike wonder and adult terror, and Willow understood none of it. In her sleep, Tara would sometimes mutter words, but the words seemed without rhyme or reason. For years Willow had honed her skills at translation and decryption, but now, when she needed those skills the most, they had proven useless.



Deep in her own despair, Willow startled at the awkward press of familiar fingers against her cheekbone. As Tara swept away her tears, Willow looked into blue eyes that were as familiar as the lines on the palm of her hand and as foreign as the reality from which Tara came. "I'm sorry, baby. Guess the rain must be getting to me."



A half smile formed on Tara's face and Willow could not help but smile in return. "You know, if you keep that up, I might actually stop wallowing about with the self-pity." Again, it seemed as if Tara understood her, but then the blonde turned away, and she turned her eyes back to the road, just in time to slow for the driver in front of her to make an impulsive right turn. "Baby, did you see that? Nice non-use of a turn signal buddy." Willow exclaimed, causing Tara to erupt with laughter.



"Yeah, right, laugh at the nervous driver why don't you." Willow said, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment. She turned and gave the still chortling blonde a mock-glare. "You're really not going to let me get all depress-y, today, are you?"



Tara seemed to shake her head in response, but Willow couldn't be sure. A gust of wind rocked the car, suddenly, and the rain began to come down in sheets, thundering against the roof of the car. Willow peered through the windshield, and her face formed a frown. "I'm starting to think that the park might not be such a good idea, but I really don't want to spend the day at home." She made a left turn on Center Street as a new plan began to take form in her mind.



"Baby, I've been talking about getting your hair cut. Maybe we could visit Stefan and see if he can fit you in?" She closed her hand over Tara's fingers, which were back to drawing circles on her pant's leg. "I know you haven't been seeing many people, but I think you'll like him. And I know he'll take good care of you. What do you say?"



The red head took the blonde's smile as a yes and made the next right turn.





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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Tue Dec 31, 2002 6:37 pm 
Stefan's Cutting Lounge was nestled between a flower shop and Sunnydale's oldest Thai restaurant. Since there was no street parking to be had, Willow parked in the back and took Tara in through the rear entrance. At the door, Tara sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose at odd mix of chemicals and scented candles. Blue eyes seemed to question green, and the girl hesitated in the doorway, making it necessary for Willow to coax her inside, and causing the red head to wonder if her change in plans was precipitous.



Once inside, Willow glanced about and was relieved to find the shop nearly empty of customers. A few weeks earlier, a Qiviut demon had decided to have its pups in the pedicure bath. The stink had hung in the air for days, forcing Stefan to close the shop while he had it fumigated. With Anya's marketing help, he was rebuilding his business, but the recovery was slow going.



Her arm wrapped securely around Tara's back, Willow called out her hello to the hair cutter.



"Hey, girlfriend. Am I slipping or didn't I cut you week before last?" Stefan called back as he used his blow dryer on the newly bobbed hair of a Goth girl.



The hair cutter was a study in black, black clogs, black leather pants, and a black boatneck pullover, but for his pale skin, shock of red hair and sparkling blue eyes. The first time Willow had met him she'd could not help but wonder if he was a vampire. But the only unearthly quality Stefan possessed was a preternatural memory for his clients' hair needs. Willow thought he was the best haircutter in Sunnydale, and as a fellow red head, he appreciated the difficulty of caring for hair outside the norm. Plus, as Anya liked to exclaim, Stefan could do highlights like nobody else. Willow had often tried to interest her lover in trying him out, but Tara had remained loyal to the cutters at Grrl Power, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise since Willow planned to keep explanations to a minimum.



But, as she led the blonde to the peach colored loveseat near the front of the store, the butterflies fluttering inside the hacker's stomach began increasing to the size of bats. Her decision to take Tara to get her hair cut had been impulsive, and she usually ended up disliking her impulsive decisions. Trying to ignore her apprehension, Willow explained. "You're not slipping. I was hoping you had some time to even out my friend Tara's hair. Her last hair cutter left it kind of raggedy." She winced for having stumbled over the word "friend," but the hair cutter seemed oblivious.



Stefan nodded at the nearly empty shop. "Business is still a little on the slow side. People's memories of my slithery little Qiviut friends are lingering on longer than I expected. And this after I gave into Anya's idea of an ad in the Sunnydale Penney Saver." Stefan shuddered. "My dignity will never recover."



Smiling over her friend's silliness, Willow reassured. "Business will be back. I can barely notice the smell anymore." Willow stole a glance at Tara, who sat beside her and appeared to be mesmerized by the array of glittering hair care products sitting on the shelves that lined the walls of the front entrance.



"From your lips to the goddess' ear." Returning his attentions to the Goth girl in the chair, Stefan put down the blow dryer, grabbed a scissors from the counter, and snipped several stray wisps of purple hair. He stepped back to appraise his effort and declared it another successful work of art. "Darling, you are good to go."



As soon as he finished with his client, the hair cutter joined Willow and Tara in the waiting area, dropping down in the chair opposite the sofa. "Anya sent away for some special incense guaranteed to cover the smell or your money back, and it seems to be working more or less. Also, I left flyers at some of the spots the college kids hang out." His attention turned from his problems to the young woman sitting next to Willow. He gave Tara a kind but appraising look. "So is this the famous Tara that I've never met."



Willow swallowed and introduced Tara, glossing over the details but explaining that she was recovering from a recent accident. It was the first time since ordering the prescription drugs that she'd claimed her lover's identity for the girl, and she couldn't decide if the twinge she felt was for the lie, or for what she could not help but see as a betrayal of her lover.



"Well, I always say one of the most important steps in any recovery is getting your hair done." Stefan rose up from his chair and favored both girls with his most charming smile. "Why don't you bring Tara over when she's ready." He added, his tone gentle.



Relieved that Stefan accepted her explanation without question, Willow began taking down the girl's ponytail. "Baby, Stefan is going to wash your hair and then he's going to cut it so that the ends are all nice and even. I'll stay close by, and you let me know if you get scared, okay."



Tara's eyes locked on Willow's lips as the hacker spoke, but she said nothing in return. In the mirror, she could see her reflection surrounded by dozens of spinning lights. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them the room was still. She could hear the tall man breathing nearby, but she could not hear or see Willow.



Willow watched Tara's back stiffen, and her eyes widen. "Hey, baby, relax. You don't need to be afraid." The red head moved quickly around the chair, so that she could stand in front of the girl. Tara relaxed immediately, and Willow let go of the breath she was holding.



"Your Miss Tara isn't afraid, are you kiddo?" Stefan said, stepping around Willow so that he could as draw a cloth drape over Tara's shoulders. He stepped back and gave the still trembling blonde a reassuring smile. "Blue really is your color, isn't it? But who gave you your last hair cut, the freak from Texas Chainsaw Massacre?" His teasing tone drew an unwitting smile from the girl.



The hair cutter looked over his shoulder at Willow who stood only inches behind him. "Darling, why don't you sit down in the other chair while your Miss Tara and I figure out what to do with this mess."



Realizing she was being overly protective, Willow stepped back to sit in the chair and explained. "Tara usually parts her hair on the side, but sometimes she likes to part it down the middle."



"Not a problem." Stefan reassured, his attention now solely on Tara. "Let's see what we can do with your natural wave." He murmured.



Over the next thirty minutes, Willow watched in near amazement as the hair cutter expertly took Tara first through the process of having her hair washed and next the cutting itself. Quickly realizing Tara did not understand his jokes, Stefan began singing show tunes, much to Tara and Willow's delight. Indeed, it wasn't until he began using the blow dryer that Tara began to balk, pulling away from the heat, and bringing up her hands to cover her ears.



Stefan shut off the device immediately, and just as quickly waved aside Willow's apologies. "If your Miss Tara isn't afraid of going out with a wet head, who am I to stand in her way?"



Grateful for the haircutter's understanding, Willow helped him free Tara from the blue covering and managed not to blush too brightly when Tara launched herself into her arms and tucked her face into the curve of the hacker's neck.



"Loud noises sometimes scare her." She explained weakly.



His expression sympathetic, Stefan joked. "You should see might light out of the bed in the morning when the gardeners come through my yard with their leaf blowers." The haircutter watched as Willow's hands easily soothed away the slender girl's fear. "You care about her very much." He observed.



"More than I can begin to explain." Willow leaned back so that she could look into Tara's eyes. "It was just a hair dryer, baby. I would never let anything hurt you."



Tara looked back into Willow's eyes and gave the red head a hesitant smile, before returning her head to Willow's shoulder.



Willow kept one of her hands pressed against the small of the girl's back, while she wound the other inside the wet ends of Tara's hair. With her touch, she drew the tension from Tara's body, soothing away the girl's fears. She wished she knew why certain noises frightened her, the sound of water rushing into the bathtub, loud music and the thunder of low flying airplanes, but not roar of car engines or the household vacuum cleaner.



Stefan sat down in the empty chair and crossed his legs. "Willow, excuse me if I'm speaking out of turn, here. But I heard through the grapevine that your Tara had gotten hurt. Actually, I heard a lot worse. I'm glad to learn that what I heard was wrong."



Willow pressed a kiss on the side of the girl's head. "Tara is getting better all the time." She turned her gaze back to the girl. "Aren't you, baby?"



A smile crossed the hair cutter's face. "She's lucky to have you to take care of her."



"No, I'm the lucky one." Willow disagreed. She cuddled Tara for another minute or two before the blonde fully regained her calm and was smiling once more.



Stefan swung out of his chair and headed to the front counter. "Did you want to set up your next hair appointment, today?"



Willow thought for a moment. "Probably not for another week or two, I think."



Stefan glanced through his schedule. "What about the week of the thirty-first? We can do something special for Halloween."



Willow's heart sank at the mention of the holiday and the memory of how she'd mistreated her lover that night the previous year. Tara had forgiven her, but she could never forgive herself, and the regret that she would never be able to make amends sometimes seemed overwhelming. Warm fingers closed around hers and she looked into startlingly clear blue eyes. "Not going to let me feel sorry for myself, huh, baby." She whispered.



Pulled from her memory, she realized Stefan was waiting for her response. "Something in the afternoon, please." She led Tara back to their rain slickers, carefully bundling Tara up before seeing to the bill for Tara's haircut. On their way out the door, Willow thanked Stefan again for his understanding, only to have him wave her thank you aside, declaring that he expected to see Tara again in six weeks.



Back inside the car, Willow toyed with several possibilities. The rain had slowed again, but the rumbling in her stomach was reminding her they were now overdue for lunch. She turned to the blonde. "So, should we go to the park now, or are you as hungry as me? Cause I'm thinking it's lunchtime. " For the second time, Tara's rumbling stomach answered Willow's question. "Lunch it is then." Willow declared as she pulled out of the parking lot and back into the afternoon traffic turning off Center and heading south on Market. The hacker neatly dodged between a stalled SUV and a fallen palm, but then had to brake sharply to avoid a Vespa rider's impulsive lane switch. Worried her maneuvers had frightened Tara, Willow turned to steal a quick glance and found the blonde grinning from ear to ear.



Laughing, Willow speculated. "I bet you like amusement park roller coasters, too."



The girl watched the red head's eyes crinkle at the corners. Her hand didn't feel so heavy today, and she lifted it carefully to rest upon the other girl's hand. Fingers closed around hers and she remembered her mother's hand holding hers on the first day of school. She was five and was wearing a blue dress with red piping. A huge staircase led to the front door of the school, and the girl thought that if she'd met the red head that first day she wouldn't have been so frightened when her mother left to go home and take care of her baby brother.



The car turned into a parking lot, and the girl remembered the store from before. They'd stopped there on their way to the Magic Box. But she couldn't remember anything else from that day. Knowing that if she tried, her eyes would grow tired and the darkness would come, she let the thought go and instead focused on the red head's sparkling bracelet. Little suns, stars and moon glittered against freckled skin, and the girl thought the bracelet must be made of fairy dust. Her mother had once told her about the miraculous substance, and if anyone would have a bracelet made out of it, it would have to be Willow.



At the drive-through window, Willow had to let go of Tara's hand for a moment, but as soon as they were on their way, she pulled it back, resting the girl's hand on her thigh. "I was thinking we could have a picnic in the car," Willow explained as she headed for University Avenue, "which two years ago would have been unthinkable for me."



Pulling onto the thoroughfare, the hacker caught Tara's seemingly expectant expression and continued, "When I first bought my car, I wanted to keep the new car smell, so I declared it a food free zone. Buffy secretly gave me two weeks, Tara thought I'd hold out for a month, but Xander predicted I'd cave in three weeks and two days. Would you believe the three of them actually made a bet on it? Anyway, it turned out Xander was dead on. And to this day, he refuses to tell us how he did it." Now laughing, she added. "Anya thinks he went to a fortune-teller, but I just can't see Xander spending money to make a bet. Blowing fifty dollars on a vintage comic or a Star Trek figurine, now that I can see, but fortune-tellers, no way."



Whether the girl was giggling with her or at her, Willow could not say. But it felt like she was. Her earlier worries about taking Tara out fully abated, Willow deliberately drove the car through a puddle sending water flying up past the passenger window, and Tara into more peals of laughter.



As they headed to the south end of town, the traffic thinned considerably, and by the time they reached the park, Willow had not seen another car for blocks. She parked near the north entrance and then helped Tara push back her seat before pulling down the center armrest and creating a table of sorts for the sandwiches, coleslaw, and applesauce cinnamon cookies. The rain provided a nice counterpoint to Willow's silly babbling about the past night's Magic Box customers, while the two shared their lunch. To Willow's delight, Tara's appetite continued to grow and she was willing to eat not only her half of the sandwich, but also her half of the coleslaw, taking control of the fork for herself, and two cookies. As soon as they were finished with their lunch, Willow carefully stowed away the empty containers, and then, with a grin on her face, jumped out of the car.



By the time she came around to the passenger side, Tara had already managed to free herself from the shoulder harness and was working on the door handle. Willow waited a moment to see if Tara could figure out the safety latch. Within seconds, the blonde had worked out the mechanics of the door lock.



"Hey, not bad. I think you're concentration is really improving, baby." Willow praised as she took Tara's hand in her own and led her from the parking lot to the nature path. "That has to be a good sign, right. I mean your appetite is coming back, and you're thinking seems clearer." Willow knew she was pushing, wanting to see improvement, but maybe Dawn was right. Maybe stimulation was the answer. So far as she was concerned, today was Tara's best day since the rejoining.



The nature path took them to the park's center, and a small playground with swings, a slide and an old fashioned set of monkey bars. As soon as Tara's eyes caught on the swings, she was off, running towards the swing set, dragging Willow behind her.



Laughing, Willow willingly let Tara sit her down on one of the swings. "Are you sure? I was thinking I'd push you, baby." Willow used her feet to give herself a bit of a sendoff, but Tara's hands quickly closed around her waist, pulling her back higher, before pushing her up and into the sky.



The rain began to increase, large fat drops that spattered and danced on their rain slickers. Behind her, Willow could hear Tara laughing, harder and more freely than she'd heard before. When they both grew tired, Willow let her feet drag her to a stop, her boots spattering mud up her pants legs.



Still laughing, Tara stepped in front of Willow, tapped her on the arm and then turned on her heel and ran. "Is this tag?" Willow shouted after her. "Am I it?" The red head didn't wait for an answer and instead jetted after the blonde.



Tara madly dashed around the open playground, leaping over puddles, sometimes letting Willow within reach, but then dashing off again. By the time Willow slipped and fell into one of the larger puddles, both girls were out of breath from laughing and running.



Willow skidded into the puddle, landing on her butt and creating an enormous splash. Still laughing, she felt Tara run up behind her. Strong hands closed around her upper arms and pulled her to her feet, spinning her around. Willow looked into sparkling blue eyes, and the happiest grin she thought she'd ever seen. "So you like me falling into the mud, huh. Guess there are some unexpected sides to you."



With Tara's help, the red head stepped out of the puddle and began swatting away the water and mud clinging to the bottom and legs of her pants. Then, still laughing, their arms laced around each other's waists, the two stumbled back to the car. There, Willow dug an old blanket from the trunk to protect the front seat. Even with the car's heater on full blast, by the time they returned to the house, both were shivering from the wet.



They left their shoes and rain slickers in the foyer, and then ran up to the bathroom where Willow began filling the tub.



"Come on, sweetie. We need to get you out of those wet things and into a nice hot bath." Willow coaxed as she helped Tara out of her damp outer clothes, tossing them through the open door and into the hallway. She pulled the girl's hands away from her ears and then kissed her on the tip of her nose. "Can you take care of the rest? I promise the water noise won't hurt you. I just want to go see if Dawn left a message. She should be home by now." Tara nodded slowly, and let go of Willow's hands. "I promise I'll be quick like a bunny." She waited until the girl gave her a tentative smile before giving Tara a quick peck on the cheek and then running downstairs to check the answering machine. As she expected, Dawn had left a message announcing she was with her friend Kit and would be home by five. Satisfied, Willow headed back upstairs and found Tara nearly out of her clothes. She helped Tara rid herself of her wet socks, tested the water to make sure it wasn't to hot, and then helped the girl into the tub. As soon as she had Tara settled, she ran back into the bedroom, stripped out of her wet clothes and pulled on a pair of warm sweat pants and a fresh tee shirt.



Still shivering herself, she headed back into the bathroom, and found Tara leaning back in the tub, and nearly asleep. "I guess I wore you out, baby." Willow murmured. The hot steamy bathroom felt wonderfully warm, and the hacker sank to the floor next to the tub letting the fingers of one hand play in the warm water.



Tara listened to Willow breathing nearby. She opened her eyes slightly, and watched the play of light on beautiful red hair. From across the room, candles cast shadows against the wall, and the scents of vanilla and coconut scented the air. Her arms and legs felt wonderfully tired, not like the dead feeling from before, but like the aching feeling she remembered from playing kick the can and tag with her little brother.



The sound of the water moving against the sides of the tub reminded her of something. But she couldn't find the memory. It eluded her like the memory of how to speak. She knew she'd talked before, she remembered telling Larry stories about her childhood and talking to Sam about conjures. She tried to say Willow's name, but couldn't bring the sound from her throat. She missed her voice, but she had Willow's love, and that mattered more to her than anything else. Her eyes closed as Willow's fingers captured her own, and she fell back into the green, knowing her Willow would keep her safe and sound.



Willow watched the gentle rise and fall of Tara's chest. The movement of her breathing alone created tiny waves in the water. Fascinated, she watched as the water moved along the surface of Tara's skin, slowly streaming along her arms, torso and legs. As Tara fell into a deeper sleep, her lips parted slightly and her breath became shallower. Over the past few days, bath time had become her favorite part of the day, and tonight it was especially sweet. Whatever had gone wrong with the conjure seemed to be correcting itself. She had not lied to Stefan; Tara was getting better. Still, she could not stop herself from wishing for more.





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 Post subject: Re: Doppelganger Redux
PostPosted: Tue Dec 31, 2002 6:40 pm 
When she finally woke Tara, the blonde's fingers were thoroughly wrinkled and Willow had a slight crick in her back from sitting on the hard tile floor. Tara barely stayed awake as she helped her into her nightshirt and then tucked her into bed.



Not wanting to leave Tara' side, Willow went downstairs, picked up the books she'd left in the dining room and then returned to the bedroom and curled up in her reading chair. Another hour passed before she heard the front door open and Dawn come into the house. Tara was sleeping on her side, and Willow stopped to kiss her forehead before going downstairs to say hello to Dawn.



She found the teen in the kitchen and putting the kettle on the stove. Dawn looked cold and damp from the rain and was shivering slightly. "Are you making hot chocolate?" she asked startling the teen.



Discombobulated, Dawn explained "Yeah, I got my shoes we waiting for the bus." She reached up to the overhead cabinet and took out the canister of instant cocoa. "Is Tara upstairs sleeping?"



"Upstairs and asleep." She gave the teen an unexpected hug. "How was your day at school?"



"Okay. No zombies, no ghosts, just teachers." Dawn replied, her tone slightly nervous. "What did you do at home all day?"



A sheepish grin crossed Willow's face. "Well, we didn't stay at home all day. We only got back an hour or so ago."



Dawn's face opened up into a wide smile. "You took Tara out of the house. That's so great."



Her own smile nearly matching Dawn's, Willow explained. "I thought it was time to follow your advice. So we went to get a hair cut and to play in the park."



Startled a second time, Dawn asked. "Wait a second. You took Tara out in public?"



"Yep, we hit Stefan's, the sub shop and the park where we played on swing sets and had a picnic in my car."



The teen bent down to check the flame under the teakettle. "I bet you both had a blast."



"We did. You were right. She's exhausted now, but I think taking her out was a good idea." Willow's smile took on a guilty look. "Of course, going out also meant that I haven't done any of my chores, including the dishes." Glancing around the kitchen and the residual breakfast and dinner mess, her eyes caught on the note she'd left for herself on the refrigerator. "Or remembered to the Magic Box to pick up Tara's herbs." Willow finished her bright tone turning to annoyance. "Damn it, I can't believe I forgot to do that."



Dawn glanced at the clock. "It's Friday night, so Anya usually stays open until eight. You could go now, or go after dinner."



The hacker sighed, looking out into the rain soaked backyard. "I just got dry from being out in the wet. But I better go now, while Tara's still asleep." Already knowing Dawn would say yes, she asked. "Could you sit upstairs with her for a while. I hate it when she wakes up alone."



"Don't worry. I'll go up as soon as I finish making my hot chocolate." The teen promised.



Still unhappy about having to go back out into the rain, Willow gave the teen a quick kiss goodbye and then headed out of the kitchen to find her rain slicker before venturing back into the wet.



Moments later Dawn listened to Willow's car back out of the driveway. Her fingers brushed against her front jean pocket holding the small plastic bag of ground leaves. Kit's mother had decided to skip her candle-making class, making it impossible for the Goth girl to pick the tealeaves the night before. So instead of heading straight home after school as she had planned, she'd jumped on the bus with Kit and then helped gather the Lethe's bramble. They ground the dull colored leaves using Kit's mother's coffee grinder, remembering to wash it thoroughly after they finished.



According to Kit, they had ground enough to make about ten cups of tea. Dawn pulled the bag from her pocket and set it on the counter, still unsure if she was going to go through with her plan. Ever since Buffy had started letting her go on the occasional patrol, she'd listen to her sister's admonishments to think before she acted. But now her brain hurt from thinking.



It seemed that all she'd done since Spike left the house Tuesday evening was think about Lethe's bramble. From Kit, the Web and the two herbal remedy books she'd found in the school library she knew more than she'd ever wanted to know about the woody perennial that was believed to have originated on along the banks of the river Lethe. Nowhere was it described as dangerous. But still she could not help but remember the terrible results of Willow's spell.



Her thoughts whirling, she took out Willow's teddy bear tea strainer from the side drawer and washed one of the breakfast mugs. As she filled the tea strainer, she remembered the hurt on Tara's face when the gentle witch realized that her lover had broken her promise. Dawn thought she'd never seen her Tara look sadder or Willow more devastated. But this was different; this was not a spell, and the Tara upstairs had never been hurt by Lethe's bramble. Still, Willow would never be able to see it that way.



And that was why she could not tell Willow or the others. It was the heart of the problem: Lethe's bramble and what it meant to Willow. It was why she had to do this herself. Willow would never be able to agree to using the substance, not after she'd once used it so terribly against her lover, not after she'd paid so high a price for her mistake. She poured boiling water into the mug, and steam rose into the air. Her nose wrinkled at the smell and she reached for the honey. It would need milk too.





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 Post subject: ...
PostPosted: Tue Dec 31, 2002 6:49 pm 
pagan, even with the sneak peek i still hang on to every single word when i re-read this fic. cant wait for what happens next. lol...

"We're forgetting about the troll.
Let's pay attention to the troll." Tara, Triangle



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