Thanks to all the readers still reading, and the die hard kittens that comment; Astron Soul, thank you for being so generous and wonderfully patient, you are an awesome Beta, thank you thank you thank you!
i'm finally numbering the chapters, i think i got it right. maybe not. anyone disagree?
anyways, sorry it took so long, sorry no responses, please enjoy this chapter. i shall work on my poor behavior, i assure you.
Tina
Chapter 7
Reach Out and Touch Someone
Tara was running late. As she hurried down the darkening streets, towards Trouble’s apartment, she cursed her aching body, and the juvenile delinquents that were the latest thorn in the Scoobie’s side. She once again muttered a prayer of thanks to all the higher powers she could think of, that she had gone against her better judgment, and stopped by, even as her back cried out in pain from her fall down the basement stairs. She felt a tinge of regret at leaving, but everyone had been as ok as possible, considering Buffy had lost her mind from a demons sting, and sacrificed them to the demon in the basement.
If she hadn’t gone to check on Willow, after seeing her outside of class, Willow, and the others would be gone. But her concern had gotten the better of her during study group, and she had gone to check on Willow at the Summer’s house, just in time to save them from the demon, fall down the stairs, and watch Buffy kill the demon. Once she knew everyone was going to be ok, she quickly excused herself, and rushed to her dorm room, to shower, and get ready to go to Trouble’s, to meet her mysterious friend.
Her knees throbbed as she climbed the stairs to Trouble’s with her overnight bag slung over her shoulder. Her ears picked up the pulsing bass of “Love Is a Battlefield” by Pat Benetar, as she reached the top of the stairs, where she encountered a strange thickness in the air. She pushed through the viscous barrier, and managed to knock on the door, which opened before she could rap again with her already sore knuckles.
Wide, dark blue eyes peered at her through the gap, before the door was flung wide open, and Trouble, clad in a tank top, and draw string pants, grabbed Tara, and dragged her inside. “Here you are! Was starting to worry bout you Mouse. Is everything okay? Did something bad happen? Should I-” Trouble was cut off, by Tara patting her on the top of her head.
“There was an incident…” Tara began, setting her overnight bag on the floor next to the chair, then flopping down in the seat. “Buffy was stung by a demon, it made her go crazy. The gang caught the demon to make the antidote, but Buffy wigged out, trapped them in the basement, and set the demon loose.” Tara stopped for breath, and Trouble moved from the spot she had been rooted to, and headed into the kitchen.
In under a minute, she was returning with a tall glass of orange juice for Tara, and a soda for herself. “Wow. That is just crazy. Everything is ok now, though?” She handed Tara the juice, then turned to sit on the end of the couch.
Tara took several grateful gulps of orange juice, smiling sheepishly when she finally lowered the half empty glass. “I was thirstier then I thought.” She held the glass in her lap with both hands, letting the peace and stillness of Trouble’s apartment wash over her, then she noticed it. The apartment was fully charged with energy, the walls, the furniture, everything it contained was practically crackling with it.
The low coffee table was pushed back against a far wall, and there was a circle with four distinct points marked on it, roughly six feet in diameter, painted on the floor. Books, bottles, papers, charms, and other various curiosities littered the normally neat living room, with candles interspersed here, and there, standing silent watch over the tasks at hand. Tara sat up straight when she realized she had arrived at a ritual, she looked to Trouble with uncertainty in her eyes, finding Trouble gazing back with placid blue eyes, and an ‘I can explain this’ look. Tara arched her eyebrow, and took another sip of juice, waiting for a justification.
“You are late,” Trouble began, opening her soda, and taking a drink. “If you had been on time I could have explained to you, that my friend is arriving here through a dimensional portal. I have to open this end a specific way to lock onto her, and her only. It’s the most precise method of teleportation there is.” She took another sip of soda. “Everything is perfectly safe, Tara. I’ve had years to plan this.” Tara looked at Trouble appraisingly, but could neither see, nor sense any deceit in her, the situation was precisely as described, a teleportation spell. “No dark deities, sacrifices, strange body parts, deals with demons, etc?” She pinned Trouble with an icy blue stare.
“A small amount of blood, to bind the individual coming through, to me. Safety precaution.” Trouble leveled with her, the cobalt depths of her eyes swirling. She seemed like a teenager, doing exactly what her mother told her, so she could have a friend over.
Tara sighed dramatically. “What do you need me to do?” she sipped her orange juice, demurely.
Trouble favored her with a thousand watt smile. “Mix some ingredients, and be friendly.” Trouble said, hopping up, and going to the stereo, to paw through c.d’s. “She’s really nice, and she can’t wait to meet you. You two have lots in common.” Trouble let out a triumphant squeak, and scrambled to load the c.d. she had found, soon the sounds of Cyndi Lauper’s crooning filled the apartment.
Tara leaned back in the chair, relaxing to the music, and basking in the power building in the apartment; pure, unbiased energy, to be used without prejudice, to build a bridge between two worlds. “Oh. I used some spells, from the book you loaned me, to help with the rescue earlier. They came in handy.”
Trouble seemed to be organizing her c.d.s, shuffling them around, and around, undecided as to the correct order to play them in, as she bounced up and down on her toes. Tara giggled at her hyperactive companion, reminded of Willow’s easily excitable behavior, and how much she adored it.
“That’s great. Have you had any time to look at the tracings?” She seemed to settle on an arrangement, and set the c.d.’s down next to the stereo, moving on to the pile of VHS.
Tara paused to sip her orange juice. “Memorized them all. They really are quite lovely. And they really do what the manuscripts say?”
Trouble looked up, and gave Tara a proud smile. “Outstanding! And yes, they do. Beeelieeeeve me.” She rifled through the VHS, moving them here, and there, a determined look on her face, as she worked out the best viewing order. Tara indulged this behavior with no complaints, it was a pleasant distraction from the usual stresses, and in her current energy induced peace, she found it kind of endearing, the way Trouble was obsessing about the tiny details.
The timer from the stove broke the whimsical mood, buzzing insistently at them through strains of ‘Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun’. Trouble walked incredibly quickly into the kitchen, to silence it, returning with just as much haste. “And so it begins.” She announced, walking over to the coffee table, and kneeling down fluidly. Tara rose instinctively, and moved to kneel beside her, hands palm down on the table, waiting patiently for instruction.
The coffee table was arrayed with over a dozen bottles, half as many jars, a few pouches, a gourd, several flasks, and a mason jar, everything giving off it’s own unique aroma, the combination quite intoxicating. Trouble deftly hand measured certain ingredients into a blue marble mortar, handing it, and a hand carved wooden spoon to Tara. “Stir this, slow and steady. Ok?”
Tara accepted the arcane tools carefully, looking at Trouble with a raised eyebrow. “Is this dangerous?” She asked, as she started to slowly stir the ingredients, eyeing the contents warily.
“No, but the smoother it is, the better it burns, and the more reliable the results.” Trouble was now measuring ingredients out into three more bowls, her tiny hands busily working through the entire contents of the table. Soon, she too was stirring a bowl filled with assorted odd substances, with firm slow strokes, and a steady rhythm.
After a few minutes, Trouble stopped stirring, and returned her bowl to the table, gesturing for Tara to do the same, before picking up one of the remaining two containers. Tara followed suit, picking up the final bowl and repeating her previous motions, absently noting the reddish tint of the mixture, and the grainy texture. They mixed until they reached the desired consistency, that of wet sand, then returned the bowls to the table, Trouble retrieving a fifth bowl and pouring ingredients into it.
Tara waited patiently as Trouble blended the final set of items together, finding herself nodding along to Cyndi Lauper’s ‘She Bop’ as she looked over the magical supplies on the table, a faint hint of curiosity nagging her. There were no books laid out before them. Trouble seemed to be preparing the trans-dimensional portal spell by memory, the mark of a true master of magic‘s.
Trouble looked up from the bowl to Tara, shyly smiling. “Sorry, got caught up in the preparations. We’ll set the first four bowls at the cardinal points, by color. This bowl goes in the center, then they will all be lit. The smoke should be very pretty.”
Lips pursed, and eyebrow arched, Tara leaned forward and peered into the bowl containing what looked like blue sand. “Potential for explosion, or bodily harm?” She asked, sniffing the mixture experimentally.
“A few sparklies, some flameage, and concentrated smoke. In that order. Not a significantly dangerous spell. Any other questions?” Trouble asked, setting down the fifth bowl, which appeared to be filled with a mixture of gunpowder and glitter. “One day I will teach it to you, when we have the time.” She picked up the bowls of blue, and green sand, and gestured for Tara to pick up the containers of red, and yellow.
Trouble led Tara across the room to the perfectly drawn circle, where she laid the bowl of green sand at the northern point of the circle, the bowl of blue at the eastern point, and then stepped back, allowing Tara to place the red sand at the southern point, and the yellow upon the western point.
Trouble returned to the table for the final bowl, while Tara waited patiently she stepped inside the circle and placed it in the center, then stepped quickly out and made one more trip to the table, where she retrieved a small twig.
Tara watched in rapt silence, as Trouble held the twig with her left hand, and pinched the end between her right thumb, and forefinger, and gazed intently at her fingers. Within seconds, the tips of her thumb and forefinger were glowing, there was a faint sizzling sound, then the end of the twig was alight with a tiny flame.
Trouble offered the flickering twig to Tara. “Light the northern point first, then the others, going clockwise. Ok?” Tara accepted the burning stick carefully, then stepped to the bowl on the northern point, leaning down, and igniting the greenish mixture with a touch of the tiny torch.
As the mixture caught flame, it sputtered like a Fourth of July sparkler, crackling, and gleaming with emerald light, the flame giving way to light green smoke. Tara moved onto the blue mixture, which elicited sapphire sparks. and deep blue smoke, then to the red, which provided ruby sparkles. and blood red smoke. Finally came the yellow mixture, which gave off dazzling lemon colored sparks, and canary yellow smoke, when ignited.
Tara stepped back from the circle to stand next to Trouble, satisfied with her work, and ready to see what would happen next. For a moment, all was still, as the clouds of smoke created pillars, crawling steadily upwards towards the ceiling, somehow maintaining their column form as they rose, sparkling and undulating. Tara heard Trouble let out a deep breath, and turned to face her, noticing the intense concentration on her face, and the sheathed dagger in her hands.
“Find stillness, Mouse.” Trouble whispered, stepping away from Tara, into the center of the circle, unsheathing the dagger as she went. She knelt before the final bowl, extended her left hand out over it, and brought the blade to rest in her palm, with her right hand. “We two, are one.” She intoned quietly, eyes closed, before wrapping her fingers around the blade, and drawing it out through her closed palm, wincing as the steel sliced through her flesh. She quickly sheathed the knife, opening her hand to reveal a long, superficial wound.
Tara, who had stood silent up until this point, gasped, and raised her hands to cover her mouth, not as comfortable as she had hoped to be, around blood magic’s. Trouble made a fist again, forcing blood to drip from the bottom edge of her hand, down onto the sparkling black powder. After five drops, she released her hand, and fished a roll of gauze out of her pants pocket, wrapping her palm completely, before continuing.
Trouble rose, and stepped out of the circle, gesturing for Tara to ignite the final bowl, which she did, as Trouble took up position at the bottom of the circle. The black powder mixture, laced with Trouble’s blood, sizzled, and flared, then silver smoke began pouring forth, filling the circle, held by an invisible barrier. Tara had stepped back quickly, as soon as she had ignited the mixture, and now stood beside Trouble at the southern point, staring openly at the shimmering, smoke filled column, that was soon to be a trans-dimensional gateway.
“What now?” Tara whispered, eyes wide in awe, hands twisting together in front of her, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, eyes fixed on the colored columns, that had begun to move. The pillars of color were beginning to shift ever so slightly left, and the silvery column was fully rotating right, like two dials being tuned.
Trouble extended her injured hand palm first towards the columns, stopping just short of touching them. “Now, we wait.” She said softly, lowering her hand, and turning to move towards the kitchen. Tara reluctantly tore her eyes away, turning to follow the smaller woman into the adjoining room, where Trouble reset the timer on the stove for two hours, before turning to Tara with a smile. “Now, where were we?”
“Waiting for an inter-dimensional portal to form?” Tara ventured, noticing that Trouble’s eyes seemed distant, and the energy surrounding them was being drawn to the portal. “Maybe, explaining to me how this portal works?”
Trouble flashed a proud grin, before leading Tara from the kitchen to the living room, where she returned to her makeshift altar, and knelt, tiny hands rummaging amidst the scattered ingredients. She unwrapped her left palm, and began sprinkling various herbs into it, pressing them into the wound, as she murmured softly to herself. She closed her fist tightly, and a blinding white light flashed from in between her fingers, as she exhaled a long, sharp hiss.
When she reopened her hand, the self inflicted wound was gone, and she flexed it repeatedly to stretch the newly mended flesh. Tara looked on in wonder, past being shocked by the fascinating things Trouble did, she was eager to learn whatever the mysterious, tiny woman would teach her.
Trouble stood stiffly, a chorus of pops, and cracks, declaring her movements. “In the future, I will teach you the things I am doing here, tonight, but for now Mouse, it is above your pay grade. You will learn the ingredients for the portal when we re-open it in 8 days, as for the healing spell… perhaps later, if we have extra time.”
Tara patiently followed Trouble into the kitchen again, moving to lean her weary body against the counter, while Trouble busied herself removing things from the fridge. “So. What are we doing, if I’m not going to learn those spells right now?”
In all honesty, Tara was disappointed to find out her learning would be further delayed, but was hoping Trouble’s mystery guest would prove interesting enough to make up for it. After all, trans-dimensional travel was rare, portals that were coded to allow only a specific individual were rarer still, the night was ripe with possibilities.
Trouble replied without taking her eyes off the pile she was making on the counter. “More cooking, I’m afraid, dear Mouse. Or, food prep, technically. My guest is going to be rather hungry, and I have been asked to have food available upon their arrival.”
Tara nodded in agreement, clapping her hands, then rubbing them together. “What are we mixing up tonight?” she inquired, straightening up, eagerly. This was just what she needed to relax, and take her mind off Willow for awhile.
“Devastatingly large salads, and steaks. Nice and simple. And we have just under two hours to clean, and cut our ingredients. You up for that?” Trouble finished her rummaging by producing three large steaks, wrapped neatly in butcher’s paper, and laying them out on the counter to bring them to room temperature.
Tara’s eyebrow raised, as she took in the size of the steaks Trouble had laid out, each one easily the size of a dinner plate. “There may be leftovers…” she began, turning to Trouble, who was back to sorting through the large pile of vegetables and fixings she had produced, muttering to herself.
“Three types of lettuce… grape tomatoes, tomatoes off the vine… red onions, green onions… red, yellow, orange, and green bell peppers… cucumbers, habaneras, jalapeños, banana peppers… cheeses, bacon bits, croutons…Vidalia onions, mushrooms…” Trouble trailed off, lost in thought.
Choking back laughter, Tara crossed her arms over her stomach, trying to remember the last salad bar she had been to, and whether it had been as well stocked.
“Mushrooms for salad, mushrooms for sautéing, the Vidalia is for sautéing…” Trouble was rambling on, listing the different herbs, and spices on hand for seasoning the steaks, while Tara clamped her hand over her mouth, to stifle a burst of laughter.
She was reminded of the fateful morning she had tried to teach Willow how to make pancakes; the way Willow had lined up the ingredients in order of addition to the batter, how she had insisted on measuring everything precisely, down to the last drop of vanilla extract. It was the first, and only time, making breakfast for her loved ones had felt like work, and from then on, Willow stuck to the sidelines while Tara made breakfast.
Trouble had froze in the middle of her rambling, to turn, and look at Tara. “Leftovers?” She seemed to ponder the thought quite deeply, before smiling, and shaking her head. “Probably not. She’s going to be very hungry. We should have just enough.” She turned, and knelt down, to begin rifling through the cabinets, pulling out a seemingly endless supply of bowls.
There were bowls of every size, and shape Tara could imagine, and Trouble seemed to have a purpose for every one she stacked next to Tara’s feet on the floor. Tara looked down, then cocked her head to the left, studying the two neat, but lopsided, piles of plastic containers, counting twenty four of them in all. Her jaw lowered in surprise as she raised her eyes to stare at he pile of ingredients.
Twenty four things in one salad? Have I even had seven different types of peppers, in my entire life? Three types of lettuce? Cheeses, plural? How many types of mushrooms are actually edible?
Tara’s musings were brought to a halt by the realization that denim blue eyes were watching her intently, from the crouching figure on the floor, and a leaning stack of bowls was nudging her leg insistently.
“You with me Mouse?” Trouble asked, three large bowls clutched in her small hands, she managed to scramble to her feet without using her arms.
Blushing with embarrassment, Tara leaned down, and picked up a stack of bowls, moving it up onto the counter in one swift motion, then quickly knelt, and retrieved the second stack. “Right here. Ready, and waiting.” She said, holding up the stack to demonstrate her usefulness. “Fully prepared to fill bowls.”
Trouble nodded, and tossed her three bowls onto the counter, before heading to the sink. Tara set the second stack next to the first, then headed for the sink as well.
“The colored smoke is searching through space.” Trouble explained, lathering her hands. “The silver smoke is combing through time. When they have both locked on to her exact location, they will sync up, and the portal will open as a bright beam of light.” She rinsed her hands, and moved to dry them, while Tara stepped up to the sink, and quickly washed her own hands.
“It’s that simple?” Tara asked, glancing back over her shoulder skeptically.
“Hardly, Mouse. That is just the simplest way of describing it. It is very old, very powerful magic. It requires tremendous amounts of energy, and control. No where is this spell written down, and never should it be.” Trouble moved to stand next to Tara, reaching for the block holding her kitchen knives, and carefully selected several.
“And you want to teach it to me?” Tara said, meekly, turning the faucet handle slowly off, and taking a deep breath, she turned to face the smaller woman, her mind racing. Trans-dimensional teleportation. Me. Capable of trans-dimensional teleportation. Me. Exhilaration, and terror raced through her veins, her mind was all over the map.
This is huge. What could I do with this? What should I do with this? Do I even want the responsibility, the accountability? What about Willow? Can I learn this, achieve this, without her? Is it right to do this without her?
Tara’s very being was conflicted, and Trouble could sense it loud, and clear. Instead of facing Tara, she turned, and began moving the mountain of vegetables over to the side of the sink, next to where Tara was standing. “Wash, or prep?” she asked Tara, calmly.
Tara blinked. She glanced from Trouble, to the knives on the cutting board, to the vegetables, then to the knives again. “I’ll wash.” she said, heeding her distractability. Speaking of distraction… She thought, noting that Trouble had stopped moving, and was standing still as a stone, with her head tilted to the left.
“The music stopped.” Trouble said, seriously, spinning on her heel, and striding out of the kitchen. “Be right back.”
Tara shook her head in amusement as she dried her hands, turning to face the mountain of produce, and fixings with an arched eyebrow. “Where to begin…” she murmured, warily approaching the piled countertop. She idly ran her long fingers over the vegetables, noting that Trouble had managed to get the ripest, plumpest specimens of every variety, and fleetingly wondered what type of magical bartering had secured this bounty, which led to a wry smirk. I wonder what it would take to get the gang to do a salad night… sorcery?
Which was what Trouble observed upon returning to the room, accompanied by Heart’s ‘Barracuda’. She stopped in the doorway to watch Tara smiling fondly down at the salad ingredients, and began to worry that she had broken the poor young woman’s mind.
“Tara?” Trouble asked, slowly approaching the taller woman, not wanting to startle her. Tara gazed at the vegetables a moment longer, thinking how great it was going to be when she shared this experience with her chosen family, when her, and Willow reunited, before turning to Trouble, eyes bright, expression eager. “Teach me.” “Any particular subject?” Trouble asked, agreeably, as she stepped past Tara, and knelt to retrieve cutting boards from under the counter.
“Anything. Everything. How to create a trans-dimensional portal, or how to make a crazy big salad. I want to learn. I want to know more. Whatever you feel you can share, I want to know.” Tara paused to take a breath, as Trouble rose slowly, and set the boards on the counter, next to the lettuce.
“You don’t ask for much, do you?” Trouble asked, with good natured sarcasm., her knees popping as she reached her full height, turning to Tara with storming gray-blue eyes, that filled Tara with a sense of peace. Trouble smiled a warm, lazy smile. “I will teach you Tara. Everything that I can. But there will be things I cannot. Are you willing to accept this?”
“Yes.” Tara nodded with certainty, extending a hand to Trouble for a handshake to seal the deal. It took quite an effort to keep from giggling as her long hand wrapped around Trouble’s smaller one, and she squeezed it tightly.
“You’re laughing?” Trouble asked, tilting her head to the right, and looking at Tara quizzically, as she gave her hand a firm shake. Tara doubled over with laughter, then cleared her throat and stood back up, fixing her hair.
“Sorry. It’s just. Your hands, they are so… small. It’s just sooo, cute.” Tara didn’t even try to hide the smirk on her face, as Trouble frowned, and ‘harrumphed’, picking up the head of Iceberg lettuce with both hands.
“Cute... Cute my ass. These hands are lethal!” With that, she slammed the stem of the lettuce on the counter, breaking it free of the leaves, and startling the hell out of Tara. Trouble bent over in laughter as Tara’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped, her body jumping at the sudden loud noise.
“Sorry, Mouse. So sorry.” Trouble chuckled, as she pulled the core from the head of lettuce, and threw it into the trash can across the room. “Didn’t think it would scare you so bad.”
“Will you be doing that again?” Tara asked, quietly, closing her eyes, and taking a deep breath.
“Oh no. Not again. I mean, I’m gonna tenderize the steaks later, but I will definitely warn you first.”
Tara smiled weakly. “Thank you.”
Trouble looked at the timer on the stove, noticing that an hour had passed. “Damn. Enough goofing off, time to slice and dice. I’ll prep, you wash. Then we’ll both chop. Sound good?” She handed Tara the head of lettuce, and nudged her towards the sink.
“Right. Dozens of ingredients to get ready.” Tara affirmed, turning on the faucet, and plunging the Iceberg lettuce under the water, as Trouble started on the Romaine lettuce.
Fifteen efficient minutes later, all the vegetables were properly cleaned, and ready to be chopped, lined up like a colorful battalion of soldiers on the counter top.
“Ok,” Trouble began, picking up a knife. “We are going to chop them relatively small. It’s easier to blend all of the flavors together in the salad that way. Leads to a better salad experience.” Her tone was perfectly serious, as she began shredding the iceberg lettuce, and placing it in a bowl.
Tara started on the bell peppers, delighting in the opportunity to cook for others again, and the warm feeling she felt whenever she had the chance to prepare food creatively. If you can’t be with the one you love… at least do something you love. She thought, attacking the peppers with gusto.
“So, this friend?” Tara ventured, chopping diligently. “She’s important to you?”
“She’s everything.” Trouble said, without looking up from the lettuce she was shredding. She finished quickly, and moved onto a container of white button mushrooms.
Finished with the bell peppers, Tara set the bowls on the table, and started the sweet red onion.
Tara took a deep breath, and pressed on, eager to learn who she would be meeting. “Is it… Is it Sarai, we’re bringing through?” Tara was more then a little worried by the thought of meeting Trouble’s warrior lover, and she hoped her, and Sarai would get along, for Trouble’s sake.
Trouble’s hands stopped, and she turned to face Tara with a serious expression, but soft eyes. “Yes. When the beam of light in the next room solidifies, I will be reaching in, and pulling Sarai through into this dimension. It will be her first time here in over three thousand years.”
Tara’s hands faltered, and the knife she was using clattered to the countertop, as she dropped it.
“Are you ok with this, Tara?” Trouble asked, gently.
“Three thousand years?!” Tara exclaimed. “That would mean…”
“That I am far older then I appear?” Trouble asked kindly, setting down her own knife, and taking Tara’s trembling hands in her own. “Please, Tara, don’t be afraid. I know there are many things I haven’t told you yet, but I promise you, you are safe. If you had made it here earlier, as I was hoping, we would have had more time to talk this over. But you went where you were needed, and the ones you love are safe because of it.”
Tara looked deeply into Trouble’s grey-blue eyes with her own crystal blue ones, and could see nothing but gentle kindness and sincerity. She squeezed Trouble’s small hands in hers, and nodded, turning back to the red onions, and her abandoned knife.
“That’s such a long time,” Tara breathed, resuming her chopping, as Trouble returned to the mushrooms. “How can you stand being so far apart, for so long? Willow and I have only been apart a few months, and it’s practically killing me.”
“You and Willow are not as fully connected as Sarai and I are. But your connection is growing everyday, and soon you will be reunited, then you will learn just how deeply two people can be bound to one another.” Trouble finished the mushrooms, and moved the bowl to the table, retrieving the green onions.
“Our connection is growing? Even though we are apart?” Tara asked skeptically, dumping the diced red onion into it’s own bowl.
“Have your dreams showed you nothing, dear Mouse? Only two bound by the deepest love, and desire can touch each other, despite time, and distance. Given time, you will be with each other always. Awake, or asleep, far apart, or laying right next to each other. Your minds, hearts, and souls will become one with each other. No ends, no beginnings, just you two, who are one.”
Tara began peeling a cucumber. Every part of us, connected, forever and always? It sounds so romantic, but…
Trouble chuckled as she picked up the last cucumber. “Sure, it sounds supremely romantic, but it’s a lot of work. Two functioning as one can lead to a great deal of hardship, compromise becomes a way of life. Faith in one another, and unfaltering trust are key. Once the bond is forged, it becomes all consuming.”
“All consuming?” Tara asked, nervously, as she began chopping the cucumber.
“Once the bond is fully forged, you will see through each others eyes, feel through one anothers skin, your hearts will beat the same, your minds will think alike. No part of you will be your own. You will share all that you are, and ever will be, with Willow. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.”
Tara silently finished with the cucumber, pouring the chunks into the last empty bowl, then moving to the sink with her chopping board, and knife. “Sounds like it has the potential to be a living hell.” She said quietly, washing the board and knife.
Trouble finished as well, topping off the bowl of cucumber chunks, and moved to stand beside Tara.” It can be annoying, at first. Lack of privacy, not much to talk about when you already know how each other’s day went, having your sentences pre-empted, or cut off, because she knows what you are going to say. It is not meant for just anyone. Only true soul mates can handle that level of intimacy, only soul mates are meant to blend together so seamlessly.”
“How hard was it for you and Sarai?” Tara asked, taking Trouble’s cutting board, and knife, and washing them for her.
Trouble’s mouth formed a wistful half grin. “It was, as you termed it, a living hell, for the first couple of years. There is a monstrous difference between wanting to be one with someone, and the actual act of being one with them.”
The timer on the stove buzzed before Trouble could elaborate any further, but Tara was certain she understood where the explanation was going. Never apart, ever. Sharing every thought, every emotion, every sensation. Knowing each other completely, inside, and out. Are Willow, and I anywhere near ready for something like that? Are we capable of it?
Trouble smiled knowingly, and took Tara by the hand, leading her into the living room. “Yes to both questions, Tara. Yes. You, and Willow are ready, and you are more then capable. But you must trust in yourselves, and each other, and that the Fates are never wrong. They have woven you, and Willow together for a reason, never doubt that you are meant for each other.”
Tara gave Trouble a lopsided grin, followed by a shake of her head. “How do you do that?”
Trouble grinned as she released Tara’s hand, bringing them to a halt in front of a shimmering column of white light that rose from the ceiling to the floor, bathing the living room in sun-like glow. “It’s just a matter of deductive reasoning. The physical response of the person, plus the subject matter, personal experience, generally held oppinions, facts, circumstances… Add all these little things together, and you get one big conclusion. You are concerned that you, and Willow, aren’t ready, or worse, not capable, of this transition.”
As Trouble’s words died off, both women turned to gaze at the portal, faces lighting up in wonder. “Believe me, the two of you are ready to begin that journey. Which is why I asked you here tonight, to meet Sarai. She went through with me, what you have gone through with Willow. She will know better then I, what it is you need to get started.”
They stood in companionable silence for a few moments longer, absorbing the radiance of the mysterious gateway that would bring Sarai to their world, and steadying themselves for the task of pulling her through it.
Trouble left Tara’s side, moving to the far side of the room, to retrieve a coil of rope from the floor, which she began to tie around her waist. Tara, still struck by the beauty of the portal, turned to see what she was doing, noting that the rope was tied to an eye hook, sunk into the bricks. “Rope?” She asked Trouble, torn between gazing at the luminous gate, and deciphering Trouble’s actions.
“Just a precaution, Mouse.” Trouble said, returning to her place at the southern point of what had been the circle. “No surprises. Just going to reach in, grab Sarai, and pull.”
“That’s it?” Tara asked, dubious.
Trouble gave Tara a devil-may-care grin, as she tested the knot pressing against her belly button. “That is the sum of the plan, yes. It ain’t rocket science, Mouse.”
“No. Just the science of reality, and existence. Nothing too major.” Tara quipped, as Trouble gave the rope one last yank, and gave Tara a wry look.
Trouble let the rope hang from her slim waist. “Ok. If I get yanked through, for some incredibly ridiculous reason, use the rope to pull me out, if you can. If anything goes really wrong, breaking the circle closes the portal. Got it?”
Tara nodded, palms sweating, body trembling. Are we really going to do this? She asked herself, as Trouble rested a tiny hand on her shoulder.
Tara looked down into Trouble’s swirling blue eyes. “Are you sure you are ready, Tara?” Trouble asked, her face showing concern, as she squeezed Tara’s shoulder.
Tara took a deep breath. “As ready as I’m gonna get.” She affirmed, picking up the rope attached to Trouble’s waist. “Let’s get your girl.”
Trouble nodded, and stepped in the direction of the iridescent portal, raising her hand slowly towards it. “Here goes everything.” She intoned quietly, as she began to slowly immerse her hand in the gateway. “Oooooo, kinda tingly.” She said, with a shudder.
Tara had a death grip on the slack portion of the rope, not sure what to expect as Trouble’s arm slowly disappeared into the portal. She imagined a similar threshold, in some unknown dimension, where Trouble’s fingers were just as slowly emerging, wiggling, seeking the hand of her soul mate. Please let it be Sarai on the other side. Please. Tara thought, not daring to think of all the other things that could be lurking at the other end.
Trouble’s legs were set wide apart, and she seemed to be pulling against something in the portal, or merely straining against being pulled in, Tara wasn’t sure which.
“Come on, my love.” Trouble murmured, her invisible hand groping blindly. “Where are you? I know you’re there, I can feel you…” She leaned forward further, her arm disappearing up to her shoulder in the glittering doorway. Tara took several steps back, and set her feet wide apart, bracing herself to pull Trouble back, if needed.
“Almost…” Trouble growled, straining. “There… you… are!” Trouble exclaimed, as she was nearly yanked off her feet by a force on the other side. “I’ve got her!” She shouted triumphantly, the muscles in her shoulder straining with effort.
“Are you sure it’s Sarai?” Tara asked, preparing to apply her own strength to the rope to assist Trouble.
“I’d know the feel of her skin anywhere.” Trouble assured Tara, reaching behind her with her left hand to grab the rope. “Help me pull.”
Trouble began leaning backwards, as she pulled with all her might on the unseen hand she was holding, and Tara did the same with the rope. Both women grunted with effort, as they began to slowly inch backwards, further into the living room proper.
Trouble’s arm gradually reappeared, down to her elbow, as they struggled against the natural pull of the portal, until Trouble’s foot slipped, and she was jerked forward again, losing ground. Only Tara’s grip on the rope kept Trouble from being pulled in, which Tara was grateful for. If Trouble was pulled in completely, she wasn’t sure she would be able to pull her back out.
With a roar of frustration, Trouble dug her heels in, and pulled with everything she had, while Tara took the slack end of the rope, and quickly looped it around her waist, to use her weight as an anchor.
“You could try and push a little, honey, if it’s not too much bother!” Trouble called into the entrance, as Tara began taking agonizingly slow steps backwards, leaning back as far as she could against the rope, grateful for all the long nights patrolling, and the strength it had given her legs.
Once again Trouble’s arm was reappearing, and the two women kept up the grueling effort. “I don’t remember her being this heavy.” Trouble remarked, turning away from the portal to gain leverage, as she began taking slow determined steps away from it.
As Trouble’s forearm, and wrist reappeared, an amused female voice, thick with a European accent, wafted through the gateway. “Are you calling your wife fat?” It asked, teasingly.
“Not… in… the… least.” Trouble managed to grunt out, as her own hand re-emerged, clutching a far larger woman’s hand tightly. “I’m gonna use both hands, now. You got the rope Tara?” She looked at Tara, her face red with exertion, sweat pouring down, but rabidly determined.
Tara nodded, teeth gritted, body straining, as she took another resolute step backwards. “I’ve… got… you.” She puffed, as Trouble released the taut rope, and took Sarai’s hand with both of hers.
“On the count of three, we’re gonna give it a good hard yank. Ok, Tara?” Trouble gasped.
Tara nodded, unable to find the spare energy for words. “You got that, Sarai?” Trouble called through the shimmering doorway.
“Yes, my love.” The sultry voice called back. “I am ready. On three.”
“One.” Trouble announced, leaning back so hard she was almost in a sitting position.
“Two.” She intoned, as Tara’s body tensed in anticipation of the final heave.
“THREE!” Trouble, and Tara wrenched the rope back with all their might, throwing everything they had into dragging Sarai the rest of the way through. There was a distinctly unsettling tearing sound, and Tara found herself falling backwards onto the floor at the sudden loss of tension.
Exhausted, Tara lay still a moment, her legs pinned beneath Trouble, who had also fallen when the tautness had gave way. Laying atop Trouble was a large, dark form, almost completely concealing the tiny woman, under what appeared to be layers of thick furs, and leathers.
Part of Tara wanted to back away, unsure of whether or not they had achieved a great triumph, or a horrific mistake. But the combined weight of Trouble, and the formless individual sprawled across Trouble’s lower body, kept Tara from moving her legs.
Tara felt Trouble’s weight slowly being pulled partway off of her, as the dark form enveloped Trouble, and drew her into it’s shadowy folds.
“Trouble!” Tara gasped, attempting to scramble to her feet, despite the fact her legs were wobbling like Jell-o, and she had no strength left in her to fight.
Tara collapsed back to the floor, relieved, when she heard Trouble giggle like a child, and sigh happily.
“You always did know how to make an entrance, lover.” Trouble chuckled from beneath the large, fur wrapped form, which showed no signs of releasing her.
“Not wanting to ruin the moment here,” Tara began, lifting her head. “But it would be nice to get my legs back, and we have a portal to close.”
“Indeed.” Sarai purred, rolling herself, and her bulky garments over, taking Trouble with her, and releasing Tara’s legs. She reached out her long arm, and pushed the bowl from the southern most point, causing the release of the circle with a popping sound, and a whoosh of air. The brilliant beam of light dimmed, and faded, leaving the three exhausted women bathed in candle light
“Done and done, good friend.” Sarai said, sitting up, and revealing herself to Tara. Even seated on the floor, it was obvious Sarai was tall. Tara’s eyes widened in surprise at the raven haired, Romanian beauty cradling Trouble against her chest.
Trouble was, understandably, contentedly snuggled against Sarai’s lean powerful frame, her head resting against Sarai’s breast, listening to her lovers heart beat. “We did it. You’re here.” She whispered, placing a soft kiss on the skin over Sarai’s heart.
Sarai shrugged her way out of her furs, and leather cloak, revealing a medieval peasants blouse, and leather pants, calf high leather boots, and a thick belt upon which a sword, dagger, and various pouches hung. Her body seemed impossibly long, wrapped around Trouble’s tiny frame,. “Yes, dear heart. All these years of planning have finally bore fruit. I have you in my arms once again.”
Tara was overwhelmed with joy, her heart swelling with elation at the blissful reunion she was witnessing. Trouble was completely hidden by Sarai’s larger frame, Sarai’s long black hair cascading down over the pair, obscuring their faces, as they slowly rocked together.
As Tara gradually drew herself to her feet, using the couch for assistance, she became aware of Heart’s “All I Wanna Do” pouring out of the speakers, and realized there had been no background sound while the portal was open. She turned to look at Trouble, her eyebrow arched in a confused manner, only to be reminded that Trouble was…. tied up for the moment.
Asoft chuckle issued forth from the cuddled pair. “The portal absorbs energy, Mouse. Sound is energy. Only my abilities allowed us to hear one another, all other sounds were swallowed up.” Trouble explained.
Tara thought it over for a few moments, feeling a pang of nostalgia for Willow’s rambling explanations of scientific things. No doubt Willow would have been able to understand exactly how the portal worked. A brief smile played across Tara’s lips as she thought of the bubbly redhead, her gaze becoming distant, she started to sway on her feet.
Sarai, and Trouble disentangled instantly, jumping to either side of Tara to gently guide her to the couch, where she promptly melted back into the cushions. Sarai knelt in front of Tara, examining her eyes, and taking her pulse, while Trouble hurried to the kitchen.
“How are you moving so quickly?” Tara asked, looking confused she tried to lean forward, only to slump back, leaving her wrist in Sarai’s hands.
“She’s incredibly strong.” Sarai noted, turning to Trouble as she re-entered the room. Opting for efficiency, Trouble had grabbed the entire gallon jug of orange juice and three glasses.
“Without a doubt. I would not have had her here otherwise. She should shake this off pretty quickly.” Trouble quickly filled the three glasses, passing one to Sarai, who urged Tara to take a drink. Tara’s hands wrapped weakly around the glass, and Sarai helped her guide it to her lips, her dark brown eyes studying Tara intently as she took a sip.
“Tara? Tara? Can you hear me?” Sarai was trying to get Tara’s attention as gently as possible, least she send the poor woman into shock. Tara raised the glass to her lips a second time, taking several deep gulps this go round, then nodded as she lowered the glass to her lap.
“I’m ok. Sarai, thank you.” Tara replied, fighting the spinning in her head. She heard two loud thuds as Sarai and Trouble dropped into sitting positions on the floor in front of her and proceeded to sip their orange juices.
Sarai slowly looked the room over, taking in the second hand furniture, handmade book shelves overflowing with books, the piles of various media, and magic ingredients, a warm smile easing across her full lips. “Always a mess, eh?”
Trouble’s shy smile, and deep blush made Sarai chuckle from deep in her chest, a strong, powerful laugh, that was catching. Soon Tara was trembling with barely contained laughter, shakily setting her juice on the table next to the chair as she doubled over. Trouble rolled onto her side on the floor, Sarai laying her body on top of her, both consumed with laughter.
The three women laughed until their bodies cried out in protest, releasing the residual energy from the spell in a natural, and productive way, not quite certain what was so funny, but chuckling anyway.
_________________ if it's not real, you can't hold it your hands; you can't feel it with your heart, then i won't believe it. but if it's true you can see it with your eyes, even in the dark; and that's where i want to be. 'brick by boring brick' -paramore
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