So I thought I'd stretch my writing muscles out again.
Author: Foomatic
Title: She's Got A Way
Summary: This is going to be pretty much my interpretation of the 'in between' scenes of Season 4, starting with Hush. The only exception is a sort of musical inner monologue a la Moulin Rouge that I've added. It sounds kind of corny, but if you happen to have the song on your computer, or you can just download it . . . legally, of course (oh who am I kidding?), play it when you get to that point as you read along. I find it helps with the imagery, kinda like a music video in my mind . . . I've kinda paced the writing to the music, so it should fit nicely should you play the song and read along.
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters or the song
Check out the "She's Got A Way" trailer (password: kittens)
***Edit 1/22/2008*** I've added links to all the songs in this fic, so now you can play them along as you read. They're streaming files, so no need to download.
SHE’S GOT A WAY
Part I: Secret
“We come together, daughters of Gaia, sisters to the moon. We walk with the darkness, the wolf at our side –” Willow opened her eyes and glanced at the women seated around her, her stare equal parts amusement and disdain. “Through the waterfall of power to the blackest heart of eternity.”
Okaaay . . . a little strange. But strange is subjective . . . “I think we should have a bake sale.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“You guys like a bake sale right?”
Willow shifted in her seat. The flyer in the quad advertising the Wicca group seemed cool enough, though now Willow was seriously reconsidering her free membership.
Well, it can’t hurt to try.
“Also, who left their scented candles dripping all over my women power shrine?”
“Well, this is good,” Willow sighed. All heads turned towards her. “I mean, this is all fun you know, but there’s also other stuff that we might show an interest in, as a Wicca group.”
“Like what?” asked a girl with red curls.
“Well, there’s the wacky notion of spells,” Willow replied. “You know, conjuring, transmutation . . .”
A quiet blonde kneeling on the floor raised her head. Her ears perked up, and she looked at Willow through the long tresses covering her face. She gazed at her, like so many times before, since the redhead had started coming to the meetings. She didn’t know who she was, let alone her name, but there was some inexplicable force that tugged at the blonde whenever her eyes fell on her.
“Oh yeah, then we could all get on our broomsticks,” the girl with the clipboard replied sarcastically. “And fly around on our broomsticks.” The rest of the group snickered.
“You know, certain stereotypes are not very empowering,” another quipped.
“I-I think that-“ The blonde was cut off swiftly, but not before catching Willow’s attention.
“One person’s energy can suck the power from an entire circle. No offense.” Willow turned to look at clipboard girl.
Geez, what’s your damage?
Again, the blonde tried to interject. “Well, maybe we could, uh-“
“Yeah Tara?” Clipboard girl mockingly raised her hand. “Guys, quiet!” In a tone laced with derision, she snorted, “Do you have a suggestion?”
Tara looked around the circle, briefing locking eyes with Willow, before shaking her head and looking down.
“Ok, let’s talk about the theme for the Bacchanal,” the girl continued, satisfied that she had the attention of the group.
Willow smirked. “Bacchanal?”
Clipboard girl shot the redhead a withering look. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
“Uh,” she stammered, unprepared by clipboard girl’s tone of voice. “W-Willow. Rosenberg.”
“You’re new, so please, let me be the one to explain how things work around here. We worked very hard on planning this event, and I think I speak for everyone when I say that we don’t appreciate you barging in on our meeting with your snippiness and Sabrina the Teenage Witch gobbledygook.” She narrowed her eyes. “And I meant what I said about the sucking.” The girls gave her a questionable look. “ Of power?! Sucking of power!? Doesn’t anybody listen to me?”
“I-I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean . . . “ Willow gulped. “I’m sure it’ll be great, you know . . . I just thought that . . . well, the term Bacchanal? Not the word I’d go with to describe a fancy get together.”
Tara watched the red head in awe. She had witnessed Alexis bulldoze her way through countless meetings without any opposition, and it was refreshing to see her squirm under the red head’s scrutiny.
“It means ‘festival of merrymaking.’ Is there something wrong with that?” Alexis replied acidly.
“Well, merrymaking in the form of drunken orgies, if that’s what you’re going for.” Alexis stared at her in confusion. “I’m sure the all frat boys’ll come out in force.”
Tara giggled as Alexis looked at the circle of girls. “Okay, why didn’t anyone tell me that’s what it meant? I’ve already posted all the flyers around campus!” A chorus of voices offered up explanations, none of which really made a difference.
“Oh, well, hey, look at the time. Got to get to class!” Willow got up amidst the confusion that was the Wicca group and grabbed her bag. She stole a quick glance at Tara, who had also begun gathering her things.
Willow found herself staring at the blonde, quite intrigued by her. She seemed different from the rest of group, almost as if she knew more that she let on.
I wish she had finished what she was going to say, Willow thought. Noticing that her stare was bordering on stalker-ish, she turned and made her way down the hall.
“H-h-hey.” Tara fumbled with her books and papers as she tried to catch up to the red head. “That was quite a m-m-m-mess you left back there,” she said with a bright smile.
Willow was taken aback by the blonde’s prominent stutter, raising her eyebrows. Tara mistook the look on her face for disinterest and quickly distanced herself. “S-s-s-sorry, you h-h-have to get to c-c-class.”
“Oh, no, it’s alright.” Willow took a step towards Tara, leaning in chastely to whisper into her ear. “I don’t really have class,” she confessed. She didn’t notice the deep red that was spreading across the blonde’s face because of their close proximity. “I’m actually heading back to my dorm. I’m over in Stevenson. Where are you headed?”
“Oh, well, um . . . I-I-I-I’ve got W-W-W-Women’s studies over in D-D-D-Douglas Hall,” Tara stammered.
Goddess Tara, get a grip, she thought to herself. She ventured a peek at Willow as they walked silently down the hall.
[Cue music: Secret by Maroon 5]
She immediately noticed the way her fiery red hair contrasted the soft features of her face, something that was not discernable from her spot on the floor.
No makeup. Clear skin. Noticeable absence of blackheads, pimples and hairy moles, Tara mused.
Absolutely . . . lovely. She wasn’t prepared when Willow’s green eyes turned to look at her. Quickly, Tara looked straight ahead, hoping the red head hadn’t noticed her blatant ogling.
“You know,” Willow began, “Unless I’m mistaken . . . which is 50% of the time because my sense of direction . . . or . . . lack thereof . . . I have a hard time finding my way out of bed . . . sometimes . . . anyway . . . If I were to hazard a guess, Douglas Hall, is-“ she pointed behind her, “-back there.”
“Oh . . . Right!” Tara’s embarrassment level reached an all time high. “I got . . . t-t-turned around . . . yeah . . . s-s-so, um . . . s-s-s-see you around sometime.”
“Not if I see you first,” Willow replied. Tara smiled shyly as Willow waved goodbye and continued down the hall.
TARA: (Sings as she watches Willow walk away. Tara follows her discreetly, careful not to be seen)
[blockquote]Watch the sunrise
Say your goodbyes
Off we go
Some conversation
No contemplation
Hit the road [/blockquote]
(Sees Willow greet Buffy. They walk together as they talk, and turn down another corridor. Tara quickens her pace, and peeks around the corner.)
[blockquote]Car overheats
Jump out of my seat
On the side of the highway baby
Our road is long
Your hold is strong
Please don't ever let go oh no
[/blockquote]
(Leans her head on wall, a wistful look on her face as Buffy and Willow move further and further away.)
[blockquote] I know I don't know you
But I want you so bad
Everyone has a secret
But can they keep it
Oh No they can't
[/blockquote]
(Scene shifts. Tara is now sitting in a lecture hall, way in the back.)
[blockquote]
I'm driving fast now
Don't think I know how to go slow
[/blockquote]
(She smiles, and begins doodling in her notebook)
[blockquote]bWhere you at now
I feel around
There you are
[/blockquote]
(She has written WILLOW in big red letters)
[blockquote]
Cool these engines
Calm these jets
I ask you how hot can it get
And as you wipe off beads of sweat
Slowly you say, "I'm not there yet!"
[/blockquote]
(Tara looks up as students begin to leave the hall. She picks up her stuff and heads out.)
[blockquote]
I know I don't know you
But I want you so bad
[/blockquote]
(She opens the double doors and steps into the sunlight. She makes her way through the quad, to her dorm.)
[blockquote]
Everyone has a secret
But can they keep it
Oh No they can't
[/blockquote]
(Scene shifts. A door opens, and Tara walks in, placing her books on the desk and the bag on the floor. She makes her way to the bed, sits down, and begins to take off her shoes. Tara leans back into the bed, her blonde hair splayed across the pillows. She stares at the ceiling, twirling a strand of hair on her finger, lost in thought, a dreamy look occupying her face.
She reaches over and grabs a pen from her nightstand. Holding it in front of her, she stares at it intensely, and it begins to levitate off her hand. The pen stops its upward movement and begins to erratically jerk about, sketching a picture in thin air. Tara watches as the sketch begins to form. Two eyes . . . a nose . . . lips . . . until the sketch is completed, and a picture of Willow is smiling down at her.)
[blockquote]
I know I don't know you
But I want you so bad
[/blockquote]
(Tara reaches up and touches Willow’s cheek before cradling it in the palm of her hand.)
[blockquote]
Everyone has a secret
But can they keep it
Oh No they can't
[/blockquote]
(Willow smiles, nuzzling into Tara’s palm. She turns her head to kiss Tara’s hand, before disappearing in a cloud of smoke as the music fades.)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The soda machine hit the door with a resounding
THUD! Both girls stared at the barricaded door, shocked at what they had just accomplished. Willow was slowly regaining her senses, and realized that she still had a death grip on the blonde’s hand. She had felt a surge of energy shoot through her when their hands connected and the soda machine flew across the room, but it had since subsided to a subtle tingling sensation. A pleasant sensation, one that she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to give up just yet.
Oh my goddess . . . did we just . . . wow . . . Tara thought as she looked at Willow, then at their joined hands. She, too, had felt the surge, and the accompanying after-tingle.
Unbelievable . . .
She’s a witch? A real one? Willow thought, her breathing returning to normal. She looked at Tara, curiosity in her eyes. They stared at one another, before Tara realized just how long she had been gazing at the face before her. She quickly averted her eyes and disentangled her fingers from Willow’s hand.
Willow sensed that something wrong given the way the blonde quickly freed herself from her hand. She reached out and placed a hand on Tara’s knee. When the blonde looked up, Willow looked at her meaningfully, as if to ask if everything was okay.
Tara smiled at the redhead’s concern. She shifted her body, kicking her legs out to sit Indian style, when her foot hit Willow’s ankle. The redhead winced in pain, a silent howl escaping her lips. She instinctively grabbed the swollen area, causing even more pain. In the adrenaline rush of escaping the Gentlemen, she had forgotten that she was injured. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.
Tara’s eyes filled with guilt as she watched Willow struggle with her ankle. Gently Tara placed a hand on her shoulder. Willow looked up through tears, and watched as Tara slowly rubbed her palms in a circular motion, her lips moving, reciting a spell. A faint purple glow emanated from her hands and slowly she let her hands hover just above Willow’s ankle.
A delicious heat radiated from Tara’s palms. After a few minutes, the pain had subsided, and Willow let out a sigh of relief, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the wall. When she finally opened them, she saw Tara rubbing her forehead. Once again she reached out to ask if she was okay.
Tired, the blonde mouthed. She moved to seat herself next to Willow. Her fatigue was not lost on the redhead.
This is more than just tired, Willow thought, realizing that fixing her ankle had taken an enormous amount of energy and concentration on the part of the blonde. Healing spells weren’t easy. They required the giving of one’s life-force to mend bodily injuries. Willow’s eyes widened at the extent of what Tara had given her.
Tara felt the familiar tingling sensation as Willow took her hand. She looked at her with drowsy eyes, surprised when the redhead patted her lap. Not understanding, Tara scrunched her eyebrows together and shook her head. Sensing her confusion, Willow pointed at the blonde’s head, then at her lap, and mouthed,
Rest. You. Tara nodded, and too exhausted to feel self conscious, laid her head down on the redhead’s thigh and curled up beside her, intending to close her eyes for just a minute, but within seconds succumbed to a deep sleep.
The minutes went by as Willow watched Tara sleep, amazed at the display of power the witch had shown.
I should have known, she mused, a small smile escaping her lips.
It’s always the quiet ones. She stretched out her arms, and rested one protectively on Tara’s shoulder.
“If we get through this night, we’ll have some serious Sabrina gobbledygook to talk about.” Willow blinked. “Did I just say that out loud?” She heard her voice, but just to make sure . . . “ A B C D . . . Oh goddess, Buffy did it! She . . . well, duh, she’s the Slayer.” She looked down at the blonde, and gently shook her shoulder. “Tara . . . hey, can you hear me?” She became alarmed when there was no response. She began to panic. Quickly she lifted the blonde’s head off her lap and rolled her so that she was lying on her back. Willow checked her pulse, and was relieved to find a strong, steady beat. Once again, she tried to rouse her.
“Tara . . . wake up! Everything’s okay . . . I think we’re gonna be alright-” Tara murmured something unintelligible and opened her eyes a crack.
“Whu . . . huh-“
A loud crash sounded behind her, and Willow spun around, instinctively placing herself in between Tara and whatever evil might come upon her that instant.
“Hey are you okay?” Two guys Willow recognized from the dorms rushed in. One helped Willow to her feet while the other checked on Tara.
“I’m alright . . . “ She looked at Tara. “But-“
“What happened?” asked the other boy, quickly approaching Tara and assessing her condition. “Can you hear me?”
Tara groggily opened her eyes. “What’s . . . where’s W-W-W-“
“Tara,” Willow said gently, kneeling next to Tara’s head. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”
“So tired . . . can’t get up.”
“Shhhh . . . don’t try to get up. Help’s here.” She looked at the two boys. “She’s going to be alright, I just need to get her back to her dorm.” The three of them helped Tara up. Willow swung one of Tara’s arms around her neck while wrapping one of hers securely around Tara’s waist. “It’s okay sweetie, just lean on me . . . I’ll take you home.”
Sweetie? Did she just call me sweetie? Tara thought through the haziness of her mind. She felt a wave of tingles course through her body as Willow tightened her grip around her waist and began to carry them out of the room.
She called me sweetie . . .
Willow was halfway down the hall when she stopped abruptly. “Uh . . . Tara?” She looked at the blonde, who had a goofy grin on her face. Willow wasn’t quite sure if she was lucid, so she said her name again.
“Huh? What?” Tara’s exhausted eyes took a while to focus on the redhead’s face.
“Where’s your dorm?”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“You were there looking for me?” Willow asked as she and Tara walked into the common room.
“I thought maybe we could do a spell – make people talk again?” She was absolutely glowing at the fact that the redhead had agreed to meet with her. “ I-I’d seen you in the group, the Wicca group?” They sat down across from one another. “You were . . . you were different than them. I mean they didn’t seem to know-“
“What they were talking about?” laughed Willow. Tara replied with a smile. She stared at the redhead, still not believing that she was actually here, talking to her.
“I think if they saw a witch they would run the other way,” Tara giggled. She had been so nervous prior to their meeting, wallowing in pre-conversation jitters, wondering what she would say or if she could keep the stutter in check. Oddly enough, when Willow arrived, she was a calming influence on the blonde. The jitters dissipated, and they talked with relative ease. Her eyes were glued to the redhead, drinking in her face, memorizing soft cheeks, green eyes and moist lips, not knowing if and when she’d get to see them again. She felt her heart start racing, and quickly looked down, hoping that her action would prevent the muscle from exploding. She began to fiddle with the pen in her hand.
“How long have you been practicing?” Willow asked.
“Always, I mean, since I um, was little . . . my, my mom used to . . . .She um, she had a lot of power-“ Tara hesistated for a split second, “-like you.”
Willow was genuinely surprised at the comment. “Oh I’m not . . . I don’t have much in the way of power. Really, I mean most of my potions come out soup. Besides . . . spells going awry, friends in danger . . . I’m definitely nothing special.”
Not missing a beat, Tara replied, “No, you are.”
Goddess, did I say that out loud? She looked at Willow shyly, and was surprised to see her smiling widely. Smiles were, of course, contagious, and Tara felt a grin of her own spreading across her face.
Yes, I did say that out loud, and look, you got a big goofy Willow smile in return.
“I never did get to thank you for the spell you did on my ankle . . . I mean, I tried to, that night, but you were all ‘coma girl’ after I dropped you off.” She looked meaningfully at Tara. “Were you okay, afterwards? I mean, I was a little worried that you wouldn’t . . . well, wake up.”
“I actually wasn’t expecting to get so run down afterwards,” Tara replied. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably still be passed out in the laundry room.” Tara paused. “I was okay though . . . slept through most of the night . . . er, what was left of it. I woke up with a little headache, but with pretty much all my fine motor skills and language abilities intact.”
Willow nodded her head. “I know what it took to do that, and I appreciate it and all . . . considering . . . since we don’t quite know each other all that well . . . which . . . I hope . . . can change?” Willow waited for the blonde’s reaction, and was happy to see Tara nod enthusiastically.
“I’d really like that.”
“Cool! I was hoping you could teach me some stuff. And I can share what little I know . . . I’m just a baby in Wiccan terms . . .”
“I’m sure we can learn a lesson or two from each other,” Tara replied excitedly, her mind overflowing with the possibilities.
Willow glanced at the wall on the clock and frowned. She sighed. “I have to go . . . I’ve got class like, three minutes ago.” As she spoke, she pulled out a pen and jotted something down on a piece of paper. “Here’s my number. Maybe we can meet tonight? Or tomorrow maybe? How about this weekend? How about I stop asking questions long enough for you to give me an answer?” she droned as she handed Tara her number.
Tara laughed at Willow’s stream of vocal consciousness. She had also written her number down. “Well, yes, yes, and yes. Take your pick. I’m not much of a social butterfly, so my nights and weekends are pretty much at your disposal.”
“Okay, well, you could give me a call, or . . . or I could give you call . . . “
“That’s usually how it w-w-w-works.” Tara’s stutter caught her off guard as their fingeritps touched when she handed her the slip of paper.
[Cue music: Last few bars of ‘Secret’]
Whoa . . . tingling . . . my finger is . . . tingling, Willow thought as she bid Tara goodbye and was off to class.
TARA:
(as Willow walks away)
[blockquote]I know I don't know you
But I want you so bad
Everyone has a secret
But can they keep it
Oh No they can't
(Willow turns around, and smiles back at Tara, waving before continuing down the hall. Tara smiles, and waves back.)[/blockquote]