Hi folks! I know it’s been a long time (years?), and I’ve got unfinished fics lying somewhere around here. RL is monumentally busy, but I recently started revisiting the site and was pleased to see there is so much still happening, and I’ve had this story rolling around in my head.
Playing the Field
Author: ringwaldoeuvre
Rating: PG-13… for now
Disclaimer: I don’t own Willow, Tara, or any other characters from the Buffy/Angel universe. Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon, WB/UPN/CW?/20th Century Fox, etc. own them all.
Summary: AU. Willow Rosenberg and Charles Gunn are running against each other for Mayor of Sunnydale in a Democratic primary. Buffy Summers and Tara Maclay are their campaign managers, respectively. When Willow and Tara cross paths, will it be the end of their careers, or the start of something more important?
Feedback: Yes please. Post here, send me a private message, or email me at ringwaldoeuvre@gmail.com. This is unbeta-ed, I frequently make mistakes!
Notes: (1) I’ve taken some liberties with campaign culture. For example, certain opposing candidates and campaign managers are going to be much nicer to each other, at certain times, than any opposing candidate or campaign manager would ever be in a political campaign. In reality, the closest it comes is restrained civility. For the most part, I’ve tried to reflect the day-to-day campaign grind, including some of the unsavory perspectives and tactics. In fact, the boring day-to-day might bore you all to pieces. Or give you startling insight. (2) This first chapter is either exposition-heavy, or you may not have the foggiest idea what I’m saying. If it feels that way reading, it felt that way writing. I’m a little rusty. (3) Thoughts are in italics.
Chapter 1: Game On
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to present the next Mayor of Sunnydale, a friend to teachers and the working class: Willow Rosenberg!”
The crowd went wild. Posters of “Rosenberg for Mayor” dotted the crowd as a redhead in a dark suit ascended the stage and walked toward the podium, thanking the union president with a sincere smile and handshake.
The redhead knew her heart was beating rapidly, but she steeled herself and managed to lean into the microphone, “Thank you, everyone. I’m honored to be here, and am especially honored to be among my own. I started out my career in public service as a teacher – in high school! – and I understand your struggles and appreciate your commitment to your students. I know that respect for our profession and support for our passions are tools that will help shape our educational system, not deter it. I look forward to partnering with you in the development of the young minds of Sunnydale.”
She straightened her stance away from the microphone and paused as the people in the crowd nodded their heads. She leaned back toward the microphone and said, “But that is only one part of the challenge ahead. We must improve mass transit and make this city safe for cyclists. We must modernize our infrastructure, including a full upgrade of our sewer system. And we must find a way to cut property taxes on the middle class, the backbone that supports our fair city. I hope you will join me, Willow Rosenberg, in the fight for the better, brighter future of Sunnydale!”
Willow threw her fist in the air to thunderous applause. Conscious that the president of the teachers union was standing right behind her, she offered her free hand and they threw their arms up to the crowd. Camera flashes snapped, and after the key photo ops were complete, Willow concluded, “So, any questions?”
***
“Frack me, she got the teachers,” a very frustrated Tara Maclay exclaimed in her office. She knew she needed to resist the urge to rub her temples furiously, and she had to relay the bad news to Charles. She turned off the TV with a click of the remote, momentarily appreciating how photogenic their opponent was, and paused, thankful that no one else was in the room she shared with two other staff.
‘Ok, Maclay. This is alright. You should have seen it coming, it’s not like she wasn’t a teacher for years. This is alright. When we roll out the nurses next week, the Rosenberg camp will cringe. But our fundraising…’
Tara Maclay started pacing. It was a habit she developed in Pennsylvania in 2004 and continued in Missouri in 2006, Ohio in 2008, and the streets of New York City in 2009. She was a professional political operative, with experience in raising cash, working field, and doing opposition research. She worked successful and failed campaigns, but never in a position of leadership. Just as she was searching for the next gig, she couldn’t help but notice that the mayor of her hometown of Sunnydale, California, was resigning mid-term. She immediately encouraged her childhood friend to run for mayor. She had never managed a campaign. Volunteers, yes. Interns, sure. But she never crafted her own team, and was never poised as the leader that would take her candidate to victory.
And she believed in her candidate. Charles Gunn was a friend since childhood. He came from modest roots: his mother raised him and his three sisters on her own, and his academics left much to be desired until a flirtation with one of the local gangs led to a run-in with the law. His mother overcame her disappointment and, with her support and the love of good friends - such as Tara - he got through high school and into college, where he found an appreciation for politics and the law. Excellent scores and a lot of hard work got him into USC law school, and he returned to Sunnydale as a public defender so he could give back to his community. When the lazy 20-year incumbent district attorney was up for re-election, he grabbed the opportunity to run against him. He could not abide elected officials that rested on their laurels. Gunn ran an insurgent campaign and Tara could only admire from afar as she watched him fight his way to a narrow victory.
He held the office with integrity. Tara knew that Charles Gunn was sincere, honest, intelligent, and the people of Sunnydale would be lucky to have him as their mayor. When Mayor Wilkins announced his early retirement, she was the first to encourage Charles to run in the special election.
Upon the thirtieth turn about the room, she stopped. ‘We need two more endorsements for next week. Sanitation workers have been waiting in the wings, and we are so close with Congressman Kendall. We make a big splash, and pad extra call time for Charles to boost that cash flow. That will get us where we need to be.’
Her hand rested on the knob before she exited the office and sought out Charles. Bad news to a candidate was best delivered in person – and with a return plan of attack.
***
Willow Rosenberg descended from the stage and took a few questions from the press, smiling and articulate through the last inquiry. When the crowd thinned and she knew she could duck away, her campaign manager Buffy Summers grabbed her arm and ushered Willow out to the door toward their van. Daniel Osborne - or Oz, as he was known - and Cordelia Chase, her communications director, followed in tow.
“Excellent work, boss,” the petite blonde said. “Two networks, the Sunnydale Press, and the major blogs were all in the crowd. Team Gunn must be reeling, the teachers kept this under wraps until the last second.”
Willow beamed, truly ecstatic that her campaign had its first major endorsement, “This was great, Buffy. The crowd was prepped, the press was handled perfectly. And we got the teachers! Erm, Cordelia… make sure I didn’t say anything too foolish?”
Cordelia nodded and replied, “Sure thing, Red. Besides the strange color of your suit – BTW, we need to take you shopping – you looked great. And I guess you sounded fine, too.”
Despite Cordelia’s dubious support of her candidate, Buffy was proud. She knew they were closing in on several endorsements to add some wind to their sails, and money was flowing well. ‘Huh, turns out that when your best friend goes from being a computer mogul to being a teacher, people line up to write checks!’
As they approached the van, Willow watched Oz get into the driver’s seat. Her chest tightened as she recalled the circumstances under which he joined the team. It was simple, really, if you were a cynic that knew there was ugliness in the world. Or a bigot.
Oz and Willow had dated for a while, so long that she was well known among the fans of his band. They looked good together and truly cared for each other. Even after she realized who she was a few months ago, he really, genuinely, wanted to do what he could to support her bid for mayor. She was not entirely, or even a little, comfortable with their private arrangement to continue as a couple in public, but told herself that it was okay because Oz was free to see other people. Much as she pained to admit it, there was a shared feeling that there was something bigger at stake – the future of Sunnydale – and it seemed a lot more important than the truth: Willow Rosenberg was a lesbian.
***
Tara walked through the small, cluttered office to the door across the way. She knew Anya and Charles were busy with call time, but this was important. If she wanted to deliver a counter-attack, Charles needed to get on the phone ASAP to Congressman Kendall. She knocked, more out of habit really, and walked in to interrupt call time, something that ran against her better instincts. It was so easy for candidates and campaign staff to sacrifice call time for anything else, which means lost dollars. She posted signs throughout the office that read, “CALL TIME = SACROSANCT,” just in case anyone thought she was joking.
She leaned against the wall and waited for Charles to finish his call with a potential donor, pleased to hear that he was closing the deal on a thousand dollar check, “Thank you so much, Mr. Morimoto. This primary is going to be a tough one. Your generosity will not be forgotten, the people of Sunnydale thank you!”
Charles Gunn hung up the phone, looked up to his anxious campaign manager, and said, “So, what’s the what?”
Tara took a breath and uttered, “Rosenberg got the teachers.”
Gunn tilted back in his chair and Anya, the finance director, gasped, “You can’t be serious. What do people see in her? She’s so bony!”
Tara sighed and responded, “Anya, it’s not hard to figure out. She’s a home-grown local genius. Started a major company straight out of UC Sunnydale that now employs hundreds of people, then drops that to become a public school teacher. ”
“And she’s adorable and well-spoken to boot,” finished Gunn, who had risen from his chair to face Tara. He posed the question she knew was coming, “So, what are we gonna do, chief?”
Tara crossed her arms and replied, “We don’t let her get the momentum. We roll out the Sanitation workers, nurses, and get on the phone right now with Congressman Kendall and lock him down. We do a big announcement on Monday and you follow up with a solid day of call time to rake in the donations.”
Gunn could only nod, seeing the logic. He gave an enthusiastic high-five to Tara and said, “See! We get a killer filing and throw in a few more endorsements? Ain’t no stoppin’ us! This is why you’re a big dog!”
Anya added, “Well that sounds wonderful to me, you know how I love counting the money.”
Tara gently reminded them both, “Right, but you still need Congressman Kendall to agree to announce on Monday. Get on the phone… now.”
***
Buffy knew it was just plain obnoxious to have so much beautiful space for a campaign office. Her time in Nevada, Florida, and Minnesota gave her a great appreciation of cheap space in mostly vacant strip malls and the necessity of rubbing elbows with co-workers, but she had to admit the price was right. Willow owned the apartment building, and when the ground floor commercial space went vacant, the campaign staff quickly took over.
Returning from the rally, she took a moment to marvel at the work of her best friend, and candidate, Willow Rosenberg. The redhead was always the smart one in school, but she knew that there was more to Willow than her pocket protector and unfortunate attire. As soon as she made a comfortable amount of money off her burgeoning computer empire, she turned to her first love, teaching. Willow even took over a couple of properties in town in the last couple of months, offering affordable housing to run-away LGBT youth and women seeking domestic violence shelter. As far as Buffy was concerned, the people of Sunnydale would reap the benefits of a Rosenberg administration for years to come.
As Willow and their finance director, Rupert Giles, made their way for call time, Buffy called for a staff huddle. They all sat round work stations in one large bullpen, so it was pretty frequent for them to simply turn around in their chairs for a staff meeting.
Buffy first checked in with Xander Harris, their field director, “How goes, Xan-man? Did the canvass get out for the night? How many volunteers do we have for petitioning next week?”
Xander nervously rose and saluted, “Hey Buff-ster! Or should I call you boss-ster?”
Buffy failed to see the humor and returned his levity with a steely gaze.
Seeing that his joke about Buffy’s direct and very confident style of leadership fell flat, he meekly continued, “Five canvass teams went out tonight, aiming for a thousand knocks – I offered frosty nectar as incentive – and we’ve got about twenty volunteers for first day of petitioning. I think we should consider some paid bodies if we really want to make our presence felt out on the street. What do you think?”
Buffy took it all in, but disagreed, “We don’t need paid bodies for the first day. Maybe in the following weeks for a canvass, but I want to make a big press splash about Willow’s local supporters pounding the pavement. Let’s give Willow a list of 30 people to call… they’ll come out if she asks personally. Get it to me by close of business for tomorrow. And I want that field plan for the south side of Sunnydale by the end of the week. We need to hit Gunn’s base.”
Xander gave her a thumbs up as the blonde turned toward Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, their resident policy wonk, and asked, “And you, Brit, we’ve got our first white paper about transportation on track for next week?”
Wesley replied, “Yes, I believe so. Though I still don’t know why we can’t focus on our strengths out of the gate. What is more American than the entrepreneurial spirit that took our Ms. Rosenberg to such heights?”
Buffy retained her steely gaze and said, “Simple: we have to balance Willow out, make sure people know she’s a tough lady with a brilliant mind that can handle ALL of Sunnydale’s problems, not just the ones that she has already started solving.”
Cordelia chirped, “Like unemployment!”
Buffy finally cracked a smile and echoed, “Yes, like unemployment. I’ve tried to convince her that hiring half the population of Sunnydale is a great campaign strategy, but she won’t hear it. Something about her business model, or maybe it was ethics… I tuned out. But I want to hear about the opposition research too, Wesley. What do we have on Gunn?”
Wesley shrugged and answered, “Very little, I’m afraid. Turns out that the street kid with a heart of gold that pulled himself up by his bootstraps to serve the people of Sunnydale is just that. Beating DA Snyder three years ago, establishing that mentoring program… I think we have a genuine public servant on our hands, boss. Good name recognition. And he knows how to fight. This battle is going to be tough.”
No one said a word. The entire staff knew he was right.
***
Willow settled into her chair as Giles put a list of names and phone numbers in front of her. She took a moment to process who she was calling and what she was asking for before she picked up the phone and started dialing.
Giles could not help but notice that Willow seemed a bit off her game after the first couple of calls did not go as well as they should have. ‘This is bizarre, Larry should have given her a lot more, she just didn’t make the right ask.’
As she was dialing the next number, he put his hand on the receiver and said, “Willow, I think we need to talk. Is something wrong?”
The redhead cast her eyes down to her call list, the numbers on the phone… anywhere but at Giles. He was right, but she didn’t know what to tell him except, “I’m fine. Really. There’s just a lot of stuff rolling around my noggin.” She thought that, and a grin, would assuage Giles. She was wrong.
He pressed, “Of course, because your charm is both obvious and contagious. If you need to take a break, get some tea, we’ll do that. But you’re not helping yourself. What exactly is “rolling around your noggin” as you so eloquently phrased it?”
She pursed her lips and muttered, “It’s all so real, all of a sudden, y’know? After today. This campaign, my image. Everything. I can’t just go back to being plain old Willow. I can’t just be myself. I’ve always got to be ‘on,’ from now on.”
Giles rose, put one arm around her, and said, “Either way, you have nothing to worry about. You are a smart, compassionate, hard-working woman, and that will be perfectly evident to the voters of Sunnydale. At the very least, let’s hope it appeals to the Democratic voters of Sunnydale, which constitutes a vast majority of our voting population.”
Willow shrugged and replied, “Thanks, Giles. Sorry to be all moody. It’s just, sometimes I wonder… how did I even get here? I just wanted to help the people of Sunnydale. Now I’m running against someone that is just as qualified, and I’ve got to act like I’m the obvious choice? And at what price?! And what about-”
Giles interrupted her, “Willow Rosenberg. You are just as talented and valuable to the people of Sunnydale. The fact that you are having these doubts only makes you more worthy, in my eyes. Those candidates that have unflagging arrogance and a need for power are, in my estimation, the most ill-equipped to hold office. You will govern with compassion, you will delegate to those with expertise – including our talented District Attorney, who can go back to his well-earned job – and you would not be in this position if you were not a natural leader. ”
Willow revealed a gentle smile, “I suppose so… and really? I just couldn’t stand Mayor Wilkins. He was quick to ignore the real problems in this city, I just want to make things better. I want to help, and if it means that people have to figure out who is the better Democrat, at least I tried.” She paused to bite her bottom lip, and said, “I just hope it’s all worth it.”
Seeing that his charge was in a better place, Giles handed the phone to Willow and said, “Now, why don’t we give the people of Sunnydale a choice in who will lead them?”
***
Tara rose the next morning at 6:30 a.m., which gave her just enough time to take a shower, peruse the daily headlines, and send a round of emails to staff before her morning de-briefing with Charles. Blissfully, she didn’t have to do morning visibility, though she shuddered, ‘Petitioning is going to hurt.'
After a quick shower, she pulled the morning paper from her front door and shuddered again as she took in the smiling, radiant, and – as Charles accurately put it – adorable face of Willow Rosenberg standing arm-in-arm with the president of the teachers union. One thing was for sure, she knew, ‘This is going to be a dogfight.'
***
