Hey Kittens - My apologies for the lack of update last week - work was butt-kicking me around again.

Anyway ... hopefully next week will see me back on schedule.
A few thank-yous first.
hondosfirst
Hey Texas Rose. I hope that the stuff that's kept you away for three months was at least fun stuff. I'm glad you're back and still reading. Thanks.
The Pineapple Head
Hey Diana. From all the thuddies, I'm guessing you liked that part. Thanks.
*****
Yes,

it's Tuesday and yes, there is an update. This one closes out the canon segment of Superstar for which I give a gigantic YAY!
Rating is PG-13.
Angst level - um, depends on the character really. I think it gets about a 5 overall.
*******
Her tummy was nicely full, and it felt good just to be sitting in the sun. It would have been better if it had been just her and Willow. She liked her lover’s friends – she did, really – but she would rather that it were just the two of them – her and Willow – sitting on the grass having a picnic. So much had happened to her – to them – this weekend that she felt that they needed time to simply “be”.
Like Riley and Buffy, sitting together there in the shade, in casual contact. They were so obviously a couple. Whatever rift there’d been between them was apparently healed.
Like Anya and Xander, who were touching a bit more blatantly. Well, Anya was. Tara smiled inwardly. Her new friend seemed a bit wistful as she ran an index finger up and down Xander’s thigh. Xander, from his hunched posture, seemed something more than wistful. Sad, perhaps?
She pulled the last grapes off the stem. She could just imagine their reaction if she leaned over and fed them to Willow. She could imagine Willow’s reaction, too, and sighed softly. She popped the grapes into her mouth, one at a time. She could be patient with Willow.
She’d said as much to Willow earlier. But it just seemed so unfair. To her eyes, there were three couples having a picnic together. Anyone else looking at them would see Willow, two couples, and her. She brushed the crumbs off the blanket into the grass and carefully re-crossed her legs. The gash had scabbed over nicely and was only a little tender now. She sighed again – a bit too loudly, she realized, as Willow shot her a look of concern. She smiled softly and gave her head an almost invisible shake.
Willow’s face softened as she accepted the reassurance. Tara watched her lover resettle into a different position, cross-legged like her. Maybe she was wrong. The way Willow angled her body toward her, the look on her face – maybe anyone could look at them and see three couples. She smiled, at the thought and at Willow, and watched that look intensify until it glowed. Tara could feel its heat all through her body, and knew her face reflected it.
Her lover looked away suddenly, blushing slightly. Tara followed her gaze as she checked out the reactions of her friends, who were still self-absorbed and oblivious. Still ….
“Th-That was w-weird. This p-past weekend.” It was kind of silly, really. They had planned this picnic to talk about just that, but then had spent most of their available time carefully avoiding the subject. So now she could put it to good use as a distraction … just in case they had actually noticed.
“I can’t believe we believed it.” Willow accepted her lifeline with a look of gratitude that made her smile again.
“It seemed so real,” Riley chimed in without hesitation.
“Well, in that world, it was real.” Buffy snuggled closer to him.
“Alternate realities are neat,” Anya observed. She seemed about to elaborate when Xander interrupted.
“You know what I’ll always remember?”
“The swimsuit calendar’s sticking in my mind.” Riley replied. As he caught the look Buffy gave him, he added quickly, “Not in a good way.”
“I’ll always remember the way he made me feel about me,” Xander continued. “Valued, respected, sort of tingly …. Now I’m just empty.”
Tara bit her lip as Anya paused in her stroking of Xander’s thigh. The ex-demon looked sad for some reason. She wondered why, wanted to help – unless, she thought suddenly, it related to their love life. In that case, she didn’t want to know anything about it. Really.
“Poor Xander. I guess Jonathan hurt you most of all,” Buffy said sympathetically.
Tara’s stomach gave a sickening lurch at the memory of the closet, of the monster … of Willow’s pain. She closed her eyes, then opened them in startlement as Willow poked her in the ribs, obviously indignant at this dismissal of Tara’s hurts. Her lover cocked her head towards Buffy, clearly expecting her to challenge that assessment.
Somewhat to her own surprise, Tara raised her hand slightly. “Ummmm?”
“Except, of course, after Tara,” Buffy corrected off-handedly, seemingly without much concern over Tara’s actual condition.
Tara glanced at Willow, who had a rather self-satisfied smirk on her face. She wasn’t sure if it was because Buffy had acknowledged her error or just because she had made Tara stand up for herself. Whichever, it obviously made her happy, and that made Tara happy.
“Did anyone else feel way too tall? I felt way too tall.” Riley chattered on in the background.
She gazed at Willow, who was “looking” at her again. There was so much love on her face, there for all to see – if they were paying any attention at all.
****
As a vengeance demon, Anya had specialized in avenging women who had been wronged by husbands, boyfriends, and – well, men in general. And maybe she wasn’t a demon any longer, but she still possessed the skill set that had allowed her to become one of D’Hoffryn’s best.
So naturally she noticed the surge of emotions that coursed through Tara at Buffy’s words. She followed the Slayer with her eyes as Buffy stood and walked away from the group, and shifted uncomfortably. Even after all this time, she still wasn’t used to the absence of her powers.
“I liked his clothes. He had really cool clothes.” Xander’s words washed over her.
Being powerless – doing nothing – was more difficult than she had ever dreamed. The fact that she was constantly exposed to humans and their seething emotions, and had no escape to another dimension – that was the hardest thing to bear. The slight empathy she’d had as a demon was fading; she was growing as numb and blind as the humans around her. She just wanted the process to hurry along. There had been a few times in the past few months when she’d felt like she was being scraped raw.
“Still not understanding how he got the house and everything.” Willow’s comment barely registered.
Anya sighed quietly. At least sex could block most of it out. Since multi-tasking helped too, she asked, “And who really did star in the Matrix?” Not that the answer was important, or even the conversation itself. It was simply something to say, something to do, something to keep one part of her mind busy.
“Wait.” Riley’s voice intruded for just a moment. “That wasn’t real either?”
But her powers of observation had not decreased. If anything, they seemed to increase as the empathy faded, and she was constantly astonished that no one else was making the connections that she was. There was much that she didn’t understand about humans and their world, but emotions – especially love – she did.
For example, Tara and Willow. It was so screamingly obvious to her that Tara was Willow’s and Willow was Tara’s, but she seemed to be the only one who could see it. Anya glanced at Willow, at Tara. They were gazing at one another with a naked intensity that was just about as subtle as – well, she was. They loved one another so completely that it almost hurt to look at them – and yet, she found herself craving that. Even knowing what she knew about relationships … to belong to someone like that; she wanted that so much that it scared her.
She wasn’t a Scooby, not really. She was just Xander’s girlfriend, the ex-demon. She knew that Giles didn’t approve of her; that Buffy merely tolerated her. Riley didn’t matter, and Willow obviously distrusted her. Xander – she tried very hard not to focus on him. She liked him well enough – she loved how he made her feel – but she didn’t want to look too closely. There were some things she was happier not knowing.
So there it stood. She wasn’t accepted by his friends, and that hurt.
Tara. The blonde witch was new, an outsider like her, and was her “friend”. She made a mental note to give the witch a call. Maybe they could go shopping. She had discovered that she did like that part of this world. She liked new clothes and shiny jewelry. Besides, shopping was a human thing to do. She could use the practice.
*****
He watched a bit uncertainly as Buffy walked over to him. It was just like high school again. He was the freaky little geek, unsure and awkward. It was like nothing had ever changed.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come over. Everyone’s mostly forgetting.” The girl standing silent before him had more reason than most to want to forget. She also had the most reason to be angry. He blinked nervously. “But … I think some people are kind of angry.”
“Yeah.” She seemed curiously calm and still, although he suspected that overlay a great pool of anger.
It was the wrong thing to do, he knew. Complaining usually was; no one ever really listened, and he didn’t expect Buffy to be any different, but he couldn’t help it. “Nobody’s even talking to me. And … the twins moved out.”
She glanced away, then back at him with a little shake of her head, dismissing his concerns. Dismissing him with a single gesture.
“Why did you do it anyway?” Then she gave him an appraising look, and her next words cut deeply. “No – I get why. How?”
Nothing. He was nothing to her. He had never been anything. Nothing changed. He pushed his anger, his resentment, his … envy … down, and answered.
“After the thing with the bell tower and the gun, I went to counseling. You know … other kids with problems ….” He lifted his eyebrows inquiringly and saw her faint nod of understanding. “A – And one of them had this spell. He glossed right over the monster.”
That wasn’t really true, of course – he had known about the negative effects of the spell – but the truth wasn’t important here. Telling Buffy what she wanted to hear was. He looked over Buffy’s shoulder to where the Scoobies sat talking, the bruises on Willow’s friend visible even from this distance. He was rather surprised that she hadn’t been killed.
He shivered. That would have been very bad … for him. If she’d died, Buffy probably wouldn’t have saved his life in the cave. He concentrated on being Mr. Sincerity. “Well, anyway, I just – I … I just wanted to apologize. Nobody was supposed to get hurt.” That part was true, but it was mostly true for him, especially now that he was once again powerless. “Don’t piss off the Slayer” seemed like a good rule to follow.
“Jonathan, you get why everyone is angry though, right?” She barely paused. “It’s not just the monster. People didn’t like being little actors in your sock puppet theater.”
“You weren’t! You weren’t socks!” he protested – rather valiantly, he thought. “We were friends.” There. And there was a nice whine in his voice at the end, too.
“Jonathan, you can’t keep trying to make everything work out with some big gesture all at once.” Buffy went all holier-than-thou as she lectured him. “Things are complicated. They take time, and work.”
Like his entire life. He was tired of waiting. He’d thought that his moment was now. He’d failed … this time.
“Yeah, right.” He managed not to let even a hint of sarcasm color his voice – no need to arouse the Slayer’s suspicions. Let her think he was a loser. That was safe. Jonathan Levinson was nobody. He could disappear. And regroup.
He turned to leave, but suddenly stopped and turned back. He’d almost forgotten the whole reason for this conversation. He did have a debt to her. Two, in fact. And it was important that debts be paid. “Hey, Buffy. You remember I gave you some advice?”
She stared at him, her exasperation and contempt more apparent. “Watch out for southpaws?”
“Uh, no … about you and Riley.” He glanced over at the tall soldier and then back at Buffy. There was no future there – none. Riley’s innocence wouldn’t survive his love of the Slayer. For a brief moment Jonathan felt a pang of remorse, but his debt was to Buffy, not Riley. “I mean, things are starting to blur, but this cool thing I said …” Oops, better backtrack – if she knew he remembered it at all, that could be bad. “… Um, that I don’t really remember? I think it’s right. I think it’s kind of the same thing you just said to me … about things taking work?”
Buffy nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I remember.”
“Good, because it’s true. What you have is really complicated, but it’s worth it. I think that’s what I said.” He turned again and walked off.
Things hadn’t worked out quite the way he’d planned. But he was alive, and the Slayer wasn’t hunting him. He should still get out of Sunnydale for a while. He just needed to pack a few things and then he’d go. He needed to learn more. Practice, practice, practice. It worked for musicians – why not magicians? Although he had no intention of playing Carnegie Hall; his ambitions were a lot higher. He was smiling faintly as walked through the sunshine back to the abandoned house.