Hey again, All. Sorry this one's a little later than I thought, but my muse has been kind of worthless lately. And apologies in advance if this chapter's a little weaker than others - see above excuse.
spells42 - Yeah, I do seem to have a penchant for the cliffhangers, don't I? Sorry about that... I agree that the reprecussions if/when Tara discovers her memory loss will be bad, but remember - if the spell had worked as it was intended, she'd have lost
all her memories - so it's a toss-up. Thanks for reading!
Missocki - Glad you enjoyed!
SallyMcFine - I have no idea what that technique's called either, but it seemed to work - glad you liked it. Anya, Anya...she does seem to have a naughty streak in her - her relationship with Spike has moved a little beyond crush, obviously - maybe she does take after her namesake.
As for the glowy box - read on!
It is going to be difficult if/when Tara gets her memories back - it's hard to predict how she could react to that. I second the boos on Angel and Faith, and I'm glad the chapters are rating yays and not boos! Thanks for sticking with the tale!
Chapter 2 - Counting Up, Counting Down
Rating: R for language.
Author's Note: The section of this chapter all in italics is flashback - just setting it apart from the rest.
Whistler shrugged Angel off and straightened his clothes. “Ease up on the threads. Not cheap.”
“So they just look it, then? Never mind, I’m not discussing fashion with you. You said you had something to tell me about Tara, so tell me.”
“You know, for a guy I met in an alley eating rats, you’re a little pushy.” At Angel’s warning look, Whistler cleared his throat. “Okay, but I haven’t got a lot of details, okay? Just so you know in advance. The Powers sent me as a favor to her – they still kinda owe her for the whole apocalypse thing.”
“Sent you to do what? Annoy me?”
“Warn you. Someone’s doing their damndest to restore her memories – has she had any visions lately?”
“Yeah, but that’s normal – her mother said she’d-“
“No, no, no. Angel, she told you nightmares were normal. Unless she’s been sleepwalking, those weren’t nightmares.”
“Okay…so who’s responsible?”
“Don’t know. I told you, not a lot of details.”
“What about why? Do you at least know that?”
“Sure, that part I know. It’s all about that little mojo she worked to destroy hell’s army – whoever’s behind this figures if she can remember how she did it, they can get the knowledge from her and figure out how to reverse it. Their attempts to restore her memories are what’s bringing on these visions.”
“The way Willow explained it to us, it was the essences of the scythe that let her do the spell – and the scythe is well-hidden, take my word for it. How could anyone else reverse the spell without it?”
“Don’t know that either. But you know as well as I do, Angel – with magic, there’s always a loophole somewhere.”
“So where do I find the person or thing behind this?”
“Again, I don’t know. The only thing I’ve got on the information front is to check out the Magic Box. Whoever’s running it now is selling some stuff with serious power – and not seeming to care who they sell to. Oh, and one other thing – be very careful around her now. I don’t know how much prompting it’s going to take to get her memories back, so you need to choose your words carefully – and try not to respond at all if she asks about those visions…just blow them off like they’re nothing.”
“I’m going to make whoever’s doing this pay – you know that, right?”
“Of course I do – that’s why I volunteered to be the messenger. I knew you’d get it if I talked to you personally.” Tipping his hat, Whistler began to walk toward the street.
“Wait!” called Angel.
“What?”
“The Magic Box – what kind of stuff are they selling?”
“Well, how about-“
[hr]
“An Orlon’s Window? Are you completely loony? You bring that into this house?”
“What’s an Orlon’s Window?”
“That trinket you’re holding – put it down, right now. Carefully.”
“What’s the big deal?”
“Anya, if that ever broke in here – an Orlon’s Window is used in spells to alter reality – but more importantly, it’s big in memory manipulation. If it broke in here, all your mum’s memories – all of them – would come back to her in a heartbeat.”
Anya turned white and placed the box on the ground as gently as she could, her hands trembling. “God, I…didn’t know. I’m sorry, Spike.”
“Not your fault, bit – the guy who sold it to you should have known better when you brought it to the till.”
“I didn’t. Bring it to the till, I mean. I was just sort of browsing, and he walked up and handed it to me. Said the glow brought out my eyes, or some cheesy line like that.”
“Wait…he gave it to you?”
“Well, I paid for it, but yeah.”
“Why the hell would anybody…is it okay if I take that, Anya?”
“Sure – I don’t want it anywhere near me.”
“Okay – I’m just going to go get Angel and take a little trip over to the Magic Box. Keep a close eye on your moms, okay?”
“Sure. And Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“That was nice. I can’t wait for next time.”
“There’s not going to be a next time, there shouldn’t have been a first…bugger,” he muttered at the knock on the door. Wrapping herself in a sheet, Anya motioned for him to answer it. He shook his head and opened the door a crack to reveal Angel.
“Spike – we’ve got to check out the Magic Box – there’s something funny going on over there.”
“You mean like the Orlon’s Window the shopkeep gave Anya? I’m all over it. Give me a minute, and I’ll join you downstairs.”
“He gave her an Orlon’s Window? Pass it here, and I’ll sneak it out with me.”
Spike turned to grab it, and Angel pushed the door open to follow him – and then stopped cold as he caught sight of the sheet-clad Anya. “Oh, hell. Spike, what did you do? Tell me you didn’t.”
Spike handed him the box and pushed him out the door. “Never mind. Just get downstairs.”
The door closed and Angel found himself alone in the hall. “Is it just something about girls named Anya that makes him go insane? God, I hope Tara and Willow never find out about this.”
[hr]
Once they’d made their excuses to the group, Angel and Spike headed out on foot for the Magic Box.
“So Spike – why was Anya naked?”
“Bugger off.”
“You didn’t actually-“
“I said bugger off!”
“You slept with her? Dammit, Spike, she’s 18! What the hell were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking! I took her upstairs to talk to her in private, tell her this crush she had on me had to stop, and next thing I know she’s kissing me. And then one thing led to another, and that was it!”
“One thing led to another? Spike, that’s pathetic. I hope you’ve got a better excuse than that to give Willow and Tara.”
“What? You told them?”
“Of course not – they’d have killed me too. But I’d lay odds they’ll find out sooner or later. Hey, we’re here.”
“Better get fangy.”
Angel strained for a moment to change his face before his brain caught up. “Son of a…how many times have you done that to me now?”
“At least a dozen. And you fall for it every time! That’s what makes it so much fun.”
[hr]
Four Months Earlier:
“Chaos: I remain, as ever, thy servant. Free me from this place that I may continue my service to you.”
He’d made the same prayer every night for five years, and was well beyond expecting an answer. But that night, one came nonetheless. A voice, loud and strong, sounded in his head.
“Why do you beseech me? I have seen your failed attempts to glorify my name and tilt the scales, and have not been well pleased. Why do you believe yourself worthy of my aid?”
“Because I am ever loyal to you. Tell me what you require of me, and I shall perform the task.”
The voice was silent long enough that he worried it had departed. But it spoke again. “Very well. There is a task I will require of you – but first you must escape. Here is what you will do…”
[hr]
The Magic Box door was locked, and Angel kicked it in without a second thought. He and Spike entered, ready for a fight, but found the store deserted, the lights off and no-one behind the counter. The few items on the shelves were dime-store trinkets, so it was obvious that the proprietor was keeping the powerful items elsewhere.
After a few minutes of ransacking the building, however, they’d found no trace of the items nor the person responsible for selling them. Disappointed, they left the store and headed for home, passing by a familiar spot on the way – one that looked too busy to be abandoned.
“Angel! Spike!” Willy called as they entered Willy’s Place. “It’s been ages! What can I getcha? Got some sweet pigs’ blood in yesterday – good stuff.”
“Uh…no thanks, Willy. We’re kind of off the liquid diet.”
“So it’s true then – all those rumors I been hearing – you two are of the beating hearts’ club again? Awesome! How about a beer then? Some chicken wings?”
“Yeah,” said Spike. “Give me a shot of-“ he caught Angel’s look. “Never mind. Just wondering if you’ve heard anything about the bloke running the Magic Box.”
Willy leaned in a little closer to talk without the rest of the bar listening in. “Not much, guys. He’s an out of towner – course, most of the folks in New Sunnydale are out of towners, but that’s another story. He’s human, apparently, but he keeps himself pretty well hidden – nobody knows where he holes up, they just know he’s passing out powerful objects like playthings over there – and everybody wants something.”
“When is the place open?”
“Nobody knows. He doesn’t keep standard hours – just seems to be open when someone he wants to talk to wants to talk to him.”
“Does this guy have a name, Willy?”
“He does, but it doesn’t make sense to me – the name he’s using, I’m pretty sure the original owner’s pushin’ up daisies.”
“What’s he calling himself?”
“Demon crowd says his name’s Lindsey.”
[hr]
“It’s not him, Angel. There’s no way. Wherever Tara sent him, he wasn’t coming back – if he even survived the trip.”
“But what if it is him? He’s done enough damage to us, who knows what he could pull off this time – especially if he’s arming the demons with magic?”
“It’s not him. But whoever it really is, we’ve got to find him. Any thoughts on where to go for another lead?”
“No,” Angel seethed. “We’re going to have to wait for whoever’s running the shop to show himself.” He pulled the Orlon’s Window from his jacket. “What do we do with this?”
“Just break it. We’re far enough from the house it won’t hurt anything, and it’s safer than leaving the bloody thing around for someone to find it.”
“Got it.” With a one-handed motion, he threw the fragile object at the ground, where it exploded in light. “That ought to do it.”
[hr]
By the time they returned to the house, the shower was largely over, the guests gathering their things to leave. Anya took a long look at Spike as he entered, and he ducked his head and did his best to keep his distance from her.
“So Buffy,” asked Angel innocently, “You’re going to be in town for a few days?”
“A couple of weeks, actually. No sense flying all the way across the world and only staying a few days.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Good old Sunnydale Hotel. Cheap, but…well, cheap. Not that money’s an issue or anything, but there’s not really a Four Seasons in this town, you know?”
“Want to leave me your room number? I thought we could get together while you’re here…just talk, like old times, you know?”
“I’d like that. Ironically enough, you’ll find me in 314.”
“Call you tonight?”
“Sure.”
“Sorry we don’t have a spare room for you, Dawnie – I know you kind of wanted to stay here.”
“Don’t worry about it, Tara – I’ve got my own room at the hotel, so I’ll just hang out, order some pay per view porn and room service – I’m just kidding, Tara, honest. I don’t want room service. But we’re still on for a movie and shake date tomorrow, right?”
Tara smiled. “Of course. Call me in the morning and we’ll pick a show, okay?”
“Okay. Let’s go, Buffy! Nice to meet you, Anya.”
“You too, Dawn – I’ll call you, we can go shopping one day this week?”
“Sounds good!”
After a few more goodbyes, the gang left and the house’s inhabitants began cleaning up the remnants of the party. Once they were finished, Spike and Angel retreated upstairs while Tara made coffee for Willow and Anya.
“So, Spike – how much do we tell Willow?”
“Bugger all. This is our responsibility. Tara did all this for us – so it’s our turn to do for her. We’ll track whoever’s responsible for this down, and then we’ll take care of them. Nobody but us ever needs to know.”
“All right. But I still have no idea where to go next.”
Spike sighed. “No – I don’t either. But I think it’s best we stick close to Tara – chances are if this wanker’s trying to force her memories on her, he’ll have to get near her at some point.”
“That’s the best idea we’ve got, I guess. So, you want to go down and grab some coffee?”
“Not for me – ever since I turned human again, that stuff keeps me up all night. But let’s go and hang out with them, anyway.”
[hr]
“Willow?” Tara asked quietly as they got ready for bed.
“Mm-hm?”
She pulled on her nightgown and stared at the bed without replying for a moment, trying to form her question.
“What is it, baby?”
“What’s…Willow, what’s wrong with me?”
“What do you mean?”
“These flashes, or visions, or daydreams, or whatever the hell they are…the one I told you about today, and the one that happened when you opened your present…they weren’t the only ones I’ve had. They’re like movies in my head – scenes from my life that I can’t remember ever happening. But if they never happened, then what am I seeing? Am I going insane?”
“Hey, hey…of course not. I…I don’t know what’s happening, Tare, but we’ll find out, I swear. How often have they been happening? Why haven’t you said anything?”
“I didn’t want to worry you. At first they were just a few seconds, and I thought maybe I was just daydreaming or something, but now they’re getting longer and more detailed – and my head hurts after, like my brain’s trying to scream something at me that I can’t hear.”
Willow sat down on the bed and patted Tara’s side of it. “Come and lay down.” She did, and Willow took her in her arms – at least as much as her growing middle would allow. “I’ll talk to Angel and Spike tomorrow, maybe get them to give Wes a call and see if he’s ever heard of anything like this. For now, just try not to worry too much, okay?”
“I’ll try.” She rolled over to lie face to face. “How’s things in there?” she asked as she reached down and patted Willow’s middle.
“Good – I feel really good today. Thank you for organizing the shower, love – it was a lot of fun to see everyone.”
“You’re welcome, and I’m glad – I’m sorry Faith couldn’t make it, though.”
“Oh, that’s ok. I think she and Buffy are having some problems, so maybe it’s better.”
“Really? They seemed so perfect together – what’s happened between them?”
“Uh…I really don’t know. Buffy’s been kind of close-mouthed about the whole thing, and I don’t want to push.”
“Maybe I’ll ask Dawn tomorrow –I bet she knows something.”
“Well…maybe. Worth a try, anyway.”
Tara kissed her softly. “Thanks for making me feel a little better, Will. I Love You.”
“Love you too, Tara. Goodnight.” She lay there awake for a long time, listening to Tara’s breathing as it slowed and became more regular, trying to justify the lies she was telling. She’d swore once, when Tara finally took her back, that there would never be lies between them again. And yet, here she was at it again. But this was different – this was to keep her from the pain and the hurt…but wasn’t that the same thing she’d told herself before?
“I can fix it – I know a spell,” she heard herself saying, and shuddered. Maybe it was a good thing Tara was going out with Dawn – she needed time to think.
[hr]
The next morning dawned bright and clear, a perfect California day. Tara had been awake for hours listening to Willow’s sleep-babble before she rolled over and her eyes fluttered open.
“Mmm…morning.”
“Morning, Will.” She leaned in to nab a quick kiss before she continued. “What can I get you for breakfast?”
Willow’s answer was interrupted by the phone. “Probably Dawnie – she always was an early riser,” Tara said apologetically as she grabbed it. “Hello?”
“This is Tara?”
“Yes…who’s this?”
“Doesn’t matter – there’s a name you need to hear.”
“Excuse me?”
“Lindsey.”
There was an audible click as the call ended, and Tara turned back to Willow. She opened her mouth to speak, only to shut it hard as a vision hit her hard enough to cause her jaw to clench involuntarily. Her tongue was caught between her teeth when they snapped together, and a fine spray of blood flew from her mouth as she grabbed her head and screamed with the pain. The bedroom door flew in as Angel and Spike crashed through it in time to see her fall into Willow’s arms and begin to sob, blood still trickling from her mouth.
“What’s wrong with me?” she managed. “Willow, please help me – please.”
“We’ll fix this, Tara,” Willow replied as her own tears hit the floor. “I swear, we’ll fix it.”
[hr]
It was almost an hour before Tara finally fell into a restless sleep. Willow crept quietly from the room and downstairs to the kitchen table, where Angel and Spike waited. “Okay,” she snarled, “what the hell is going on? Her mom said nightmares – not skull-splitting visions and pain.”
Spike looked at Angel for a moment, then looked down at the table. “It’s not normal,” he said. “Someone’s doing this to her.”
She froze and stared intently at him. “How’s that?”
“Well…yesterday, during the shower, Angel got a visit from a demon he knew – bloke named Whistler. Buffy met him, but I don’t know if she ever told you about him.” Willow shook her head. “Some kind of agent for the Powers, to balance good and evil. Anyway, he told Angel someone’s trying to restore her memory. Everything seemed to point to the Magic Box, so we headed there – when we left the party, that’s where we were going. We didn’t have any luck there, so we hit Willy’s Place. He told us whoever’s running the Magic Box calls himself Lindsey – and nobody knows where to find him. We were out of leads, so we came back here, thought we’d do some more digging today.”
Willow visibly tried to calm herself. “Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday?”
“We…well, we wanted to keep you out of it. You two have done enough, and I hoped we could figure it out without involving you.”
She patted his hand. “I appreciate it, Spike, I really do – but I’m involved now. So what does whoever’s doing this want, what pointed you to the Magic Box and is this really Lindsey?”
“Okay, slow down a little. What they want – that’d be to reverse the spell that destroyed Hell’s army. They figure if they can make Tara remember how she did the spell, they can get that knowledge from her and figure out how to reverse it. What led us to the Magic Box was partly what Whistler told Angel, and partly the Orlon’s Window that the owner sold Anya.”
“An Orlon’s Window? Where is it now?”
“Angel and I destroyed it – a long way from here, so no worries about it now. And as for if this is really Lindsey…I don’t see how it could be.”
“But you don’t know for sure.”
“No.”
“Okay, then. I’m going to do a protection spell for Tara, hopefully it’ll be enough to block whatever they’re casting to bring back her memories. She and Dawn are going out later, so maybe you two should shadow them in case this guy makes an appearance.” They nodded. “And most importantly, not a word of any of this to Tara – make sure you stay out of sight.”
At the top of the stairs, unseen and unnoticed, Tara sat with an expression of mixed anger and confusion.
[hr]
Thanks for reading, folks! Only a week or so till the next chapter! (assuming my lazy muse cooperates)