Title: Never No More
Author: EmeraldArcher
Email address: sixtiesgirl8@yahoo.com, or leave a message here on the board
Feedback: If you feel so inclined.
Distribution: Please ask.
Spoilers: No spoilers. This is AU(If my understanding of AU is correct).
Rating: PG-13 to NC–17. This includes sex, violence, sexual violence, language.
Pairing: The gang’s all here. . . pretty much, just different.
Disclaimer: I didn’t create these characters. I make no profit from them.
Summary: AU. It’d spoil the fun if I told you.
Note: I haven’t ever tried writing AU fiction. Not sure how it will go. Also, no beta used, so any and all mistakes are mine. Am aiming for weekly updates, more so if work permits.
Note: “Angel of the Morning” written by Chip Taylor.
Thanks: To Xita, for having the site, and keeping the site.
Chapter: Thirteenth
Merritt woke to sunlight in her eyes. She squinted. “Ugh.” She rolled over. Checked her watch: 7:13. “Ugh.” Merritt sat up, noticed she had fallen asleep completely dressed. She took a deep breath and frowned. She couldn’t even remember when she had actually laid down the night before. Or when exactly she had eaten the ashtray? She grimaced. “Ugh.”
Merritt showered, dressed and sat at the table. It was early, and Sunnydale was quiet. She took a long drag from her cigarette and dropped her eyes to the table. She picked up the postcard and flipped it over. Read the words she had written the night before.
Giles,
It’s been a few years. I’m okay. I’m in Sunnydale. I got a job as a gardener. For a Maclay family on Albret. I’m staying at the Sun, rm 8. Be nice to hear from you.
Merritt
Merritt turned the card over, looked at the picture of the rinky-dink hotel. She shrugged. A free postcard was a free postcard. She leaned forward, stuffed the card in her back pocket. She checked her watch: 9:22. She took one last drag, stamped out her cigarette, and stood. Merritt exited her room, turned to lock the door, dropped her keys. She squatted down, and quickly shoved a small piece of brown paper in the door with one hand, and picked up her keys with the other. She stood and locked the door. She turned and walked towards Main Street.
*****
Just call me angel of the morning, angel,. . .
Tara lifted the pillow off her head.
What the. . . ?
. . . just touch my cheek before you leave me,. . . .
Tara slapped the hair from her face.
Are you kidding me?
. . . baby!
Tara grabbed her cell phone. “Are you
kidding me?” Emma laughed. Tara blinked. “‘Angel of the Morning’?”
Emma laughed again. “No, . . . Emma.”
Tara sighed and rolled onto her back. She raised her head, noticed she still wore all her clothes.
Oh, my God. Her head fell back. “What?”
Emma cleared her throat. “Are you coming in?”
Tara rubbed her eyes. “Of course.”
“Today?”
Tara looked at the clock: 11:41. “Oh, my God!”
Emma laughed. “That kind of night, huh?”
“Oh, my God!” Tara jumped out of bed. Ran towards the bathroom.
“See you soon?”
“Oh, my God!” Tara hung up.
***
Merritt exited the Post Office lobby and walked up Main Street. Sunday seemed as busy as every other day. Merritt wasn’t sure why this surprised her. But it did. Maybe because it was Sunday. It just seemed wrong. She was used to every day being exactly the same. Seven days a week. Completely identical. But that was inside. In the world, Sunday should be different, right? Church day. Rest day. Whatever day. Just different.
Merritt pushed her hands into her front pockets. She stopped in front of the Espresso Pump, leaned her back against the wall. She tilted her head skyward and closed her eyes. The sun was warm on her skin.
Tara pressed her lips to Merritt’s cheek. Feather soft. Then, she stood back.
Merritt opened her eyes. She swallowed. The memory came quick. Without warning. Merritt took a deep breath. Her eyes drifted to the store down the block.
***
Tara ran as fast as she could. Which wasn’t fast.
Stupid car. . . stupid car. . . stupid. . . I’m dying. “Excuse me, excuse me,” she said breathlessly, dodging several people. She continued up Main Street and stopped in front of the store. She leaned a hand against the door and took several breaths.
The door opened. “Tara?”
Tara looked up at Emma. She held a ‘give me a sec’ finger and shook her head as she continued to breathe hard and fast.
Emma laughed. “You okay?”
Tara nodded. Put her hands on her hips. “Ye. . . ah.”
Emma nodded. “Uh-huh.” She glanced down the street. “All the way?”
Tara nodded. She fanned her face with her hand. “Yeah.”
Emma considered. “Impressive.”
“Wa—” Tara coughed. “—ter.”
Emma laughed and held the door as Tara walked inside. She shook her head and closed the door behind them.
***
Merritt’s heart beat rapidly as she watched Tara running up the street. Her hair was wild in the air. She danced between pedestrians. Tara reached the store and stopped. Merritt watched Emma open the door. She said something and laughed at Tara’s answer. Then they disappeared inside.
Merritt pushed off the wall and smiled. She glanced around. No one noticed her. No one. At all. No one cared who she was. What she was doing. Where she was going. Or why. Her smile widened. She stepped off the curb to cross the street.
***
Emma watched Tara drain the last of her water. “Better?”
Tara set the glass down on the sink edge and took a deep breath. “Better.” She pushed a hand through her hair.
“So. . . .”
Tara tied on her work smock. “‘So’ what?”
Emma raised an eyebrow. “Late night?”
Tara rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”
Emma leaned against the door. “I have to ask.”
Tara faced the small mirror. “Ugh.” She grabbed a small band and pulled her hair back from her face. She turned to Emma. “Ask.”
“Were you with her?”
Tara finished her hair and swallowed. She turned back to the mirror. “Not when you called.”
“I knew it.” Emma stepped into the tiny bathroom. “Tara.”
Tara sighed. She turned and slid past Emma out of the small space. “It wasn’t like that.” Tara walked out of the ‘Employees Only’ area towards the toy section. She opened a box and started shelving the cheap, plastic items.
Emma followed and stood behind her. “What
was it like?”
Scary. Wonderful. Hard. Fun. Scary. “We just went to the park.”
Emma leaned forward. “You did
not.”
“We did.”
“And she actually
wore those things?”
An image of Merritt came to Tara’s mind. She could feel heat cascade over her skin. She smiled softly. “Yeah.”
Emma shook her head. Considered. “Then what?”
Tara glanced at her. “‘Then what’ what?”
“What happened after?”
Tara continued to stock items. “We talked.”
“Uh-huh. . . .”
“And walked.”
“Uh-huh. . . .”
Tara shrugged. Shook her head dismissively. “You know.”
“Uh-huh. . . and?”
“And we just, you know. . . we just went to her place for awhile.”
Emma slapped her hand against a shelf. “I knew it.”
Tara turned to Emma. “No, you didn’t.” Tara shook her head “Nothing happened. I told you, we’re friends.” Tara folded the empty box. “We just talked.”
“And that’s all?”
Tara sighed half-heartedly. “That’s all.”
Emma shook her head. “Pffft.”
Tara’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re ‘pffft’-ing me? Really? Miss ‘just be careful’ is ‘pffft’-ing me?”
“I was simply expressing a concern. I wasn’t saying. . . well, I wasn’t saying don’t do anything if— if the right moment came along.”
“Gee, thanks,
Mom.” One corner of Tara’s mouth lifted. “You are
so exasperating.”
Emma smiled. “I just—” The bell over the door interrupted her. She raised a finger. Then disappeared up the aisle.
Tara laughed and grabbed another box. She took a deep breath and placed more items on the shelf. Emma’s words played over in her head.
‘. . . I wasn’t saying don’t do anything if— if the right moment came along.’ Her hand paused above the shelf. She closed her eyes, the memory of her lips against Merritt’s skin pushing at her. She opened her eyes. Whether it was the right moment or not, Tara wasn’t sure. But it felt right. Scary, yes. Dangerous, yes. But right. Tara took another breath and finally set the item down.
Tara wasn’t sure what she would say to Merritt when she saw her again. When? That was a big assumption on her part. Maybe ‘if’ would be better. ‘If’ she saw Merritt again. After basically begging to be ‘just friends’ with the redhead, she had gone and pushed it with the kiss. That was too much. Tara pressed a hand over her eyes. That was wrong. Just wrong. She shouldn’t have done that. Tara took a deep breath.
Ugh.
“Tara?”
Tara dropped her hand. “Yeah?”
Emma stepped out from the aisle. She smiled. She hitched a thumb towards the front of the store. “Can you help this customer?”
Tara sighed. “And why can’t you?” Emma started to answer. Tara raised a hand. “No, no, nevermind.” She walked past Emma and pushed the small box into her hands. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” Tara shook her head, walked into the aisle.
Be careful, Tara, you don’t know her, Tara, and then what happened, Tara, help this customer, Tara. . . . Tara smiled and pressed her smock.
I’ll help this customer, all right, just watch— Tara stopped abruptly “. . . me. . . .”
Merritt stood facing the front window, hands stuffed deeply into her front pockets. Her eyes followed the meandering people as they walked by the store. Every few seconds, she found herself glancing at passing cars, staring into parked ones. She was paranoid. She could admit it. She knew Agent Harris was out there. Somewhere. Watching. Waiting. And even knowing that, she’d found herself drawn to this store. No, not the store. To Tara. She was drawn to Tara. She could admit it. Merritt sighed.
Tara swallowed.
Merritt. Tara smiled. “Merritt.”
Merritt turned. “Hi.”
Tara walked over to her. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Merritt shook her head. “Sorry.”
“I wasn’t sure if I’d see you.” Tara shifted. “After . . .”
Merritt’s scarred hand fisted inside her pocket. She glanced away. Then caught Tara’s eyes. “I asked you to stay.”
Tara stepped closer. She glanced at Merritt’s hand, hidden in her pocket. Her voice low, “I-I didn’t mean. . . .”
Merritt could feel Tara’s lips against her cheek even now. Merritt swallowed. “I know.”
Oh, Lordy. Tara’s heart pounded. All of Tara’s fears, about the kiss, about their friendship, about scaring Merritt, all of them, felt like they had been beaten down by those simple words.
Easy, Tara. . . easy.. She nodded. Then crossed her arms, holding her smock tightly in both hands.
Merritt's gaze dropped to Tara’s arms crossed over her chest, noticed the clasping hands.
“Tara?” Tara and Merritt turned towards the voice. Emma walked out of the far aisle. Her eyes moved between them.
Tara cleared her throat. “Emma.” She stepped closer to Merritt. “This is Merritt. Carver.” She looked at Merritt. “Emma Jenkins, my boss.”
Merritt noticed Tara’s drawing nearer. She pulled a hand from her pocket. “Hi.”
Emma took Merritt’s hand firmly. Glanced at Tara. Then spoke to Merritt. “Tara has a lot of nice things to say about you.”
Uh . . . . Merritt looked at Tara. “Thank you?”
Emma laughed. She squeezed Merritt’s hand one final time. “You sound surprised.”
Merritt cleared her throat. “No.” She rubbed her forehead, then pushed her hand into her front pocket. “I just—”
Tara faced Emma. “How ‘bout that inventory?”
Emma’s lips twitched. “Mmm-hmm. . . inventory. I should get on that.” Emma held Merritt’s eyes one last time. “It was nice to meet you, Merritt.”
Merritt nodded. “You, too, ma’am.”
Tara waited till Emma was out of earshot. “Sorry.” Merritt looked at her. Tara shook her head. “She checks up on me.”
“Ah.” Merritt turned her gaze to the window. Agent Harris was like that. He liked to ‘check up,’ too. He made it clear, he would be ‘checking up’ on her. For as long as it took. Until he got what he wanted. And then? Merritt didn’t know. But she was sure she didn’t want to find out. “That must be nice.” Merritt turned back to Tara.
“What?”
Merritt shifted, shrugged. “Someone caring like that.”
Tara considered. She hadn’t really thought about it that way. Emma was both endearing and infuriating. At one time a best friend, at another a mother figure, and even some times, just an annoying buttinski. Still, Merritt’s words held a simple truth. It
was nice to have someone care for her. To
really care for her. Without some ulterior motive. Just simply because she was Tara. And being Tara was enough. She nodded softly. “It is.”
Merritt smiled again. “So, um. . .”
Jesus, Carver, get a grip. “I wanted to tell you—”
Tara stilled.
Oh, God. . . I knew it. . . .
“Are you all right?”
“W-What?”
Merritt stepped closer. Her hand was out of her pocket and reaching for the blonde before she realized what she was doing. She stopped before she took hold of Tara’s arm. “Are you okay?”
Tara shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“You are?”
“Y-Yes.”
Merritt wasn’t convinced. “You just got a— you look a little. . . pasty.”
Tara took a breath. “I’m fine.” Merritt still wasn’t convinced. “‘A little pasty’ is normal. Really. . . really, I’m fine.”
Merritt waited. Then, “Okay.” She glanced outside.
They stood silent. Tara shifted. “Um. . . .” She cleared her throat. “What were— what did you want to say?” Merritt looked at Tara. “Before the paste?”
Say it fast. . . just say it fast.
Merritt nodded. “Oh.” She swallowed. “Yeah.” She shifted again. “I. . . .”
Say it fast. . . just say it fast. “. . . had a nice time yesterday.”
What? Tara frowned, confused.
Yesterday? “W-What?”
Merritt paused. Then, “Yesterday? The concert? Everything.” Merritt nodded, encouraged Tara to catch up. When Tara still didn’t respond, “Repressed?”
What? Tara shook the cobwebs away.
‘Repressed’? Tara stared at Merritt, slack-jawed. Merritt’s eyebrows lifted. Tara laughed. “No,” she said. “No, I didn’t repress.” She covered her face with her hands. She dropped them and laughed again when Merritt smiled. Tara shook her head. “Carver, Merritt Carver.” Merritt shrugged. “I swear.” Merritt’s smile widened. Tara took a breath. “I
do like your smile.”
Merritt’s heartbeat stuttered.
Danger. She swallowed. “Thank you.”
Tara crossed her arms over her chest. She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Back off, Carver. Merritt glanced out the window again.
Tara’s eyes skimmed over Merritt’s profile. She swore she could feel the touch of Merritt’s skin against her lips. Red flushed up her skin.
Oh, Lordy. . . . “S-So. . . .” Merritt looked at Tara. “. . . was that all?”
Merritt’s eyes fell to Tara’s lips. “I. . . .” Then settled on her eyes. “No.” She took a breath. “I was just— I-I can’t see you tomorrow.”
Tara stiffened. “Oh.” She nodded. “Oh.” She stepped back and glanced towards the back of the store. “O-Okay.” Tara looked at Merritt. “I-I guess I should. . . .”
What the. . . Merritt watched Tara. She’d seen the blond in many different lights in such a short time. Silly. Happy. Flirty. Apologetic. Pasty. But none of them was ‘hurt’. And Tara looked hurt. Hurt at her words. She said quickly, “I have to work.” She pushed her hand back inside her front pocket.
Tara held her breath. Then, “W-Work?”
“Yeah.”
Tara pushed her hair back. The flush was back again, with embarrassment not far behind.
Dork.
“I don’t want to assume.” Tara tilted her head. “I don’t— I mean, if you wanted to do something. . . .” Merritt shifted. “I couldn’t. . . .”
“Cause you have to work,” Tara finished.
“Yeah.”
Tara was suddenly both happy and relieved, all at the same time. She wasn’t sure she could’ve handled it if Merritt had rejected her, had wanted to stop seeing her completely. There was just something about Merritt, something compelling and mysterious, something lonely and sad, something sarcastic and smart, that Tara couldn’t help but feel drawn to her. She wanted to discover the answers to this woman. And she would. If Merritt would let her. She definitely would. She smiled. “Okay.”
Merritt nodded. “Okay.”
Tara shifted towards the back of the store. “Wanna help?”
“You?”
“Yes, me.” Tara laughed. “Sooner I’m done. . . .”
Merritt nodded. “Sure.”
Tara started for the shelves in back. Merritt glanced once over her shoulder and then followed.
Tara picked up a box and handed it to Merritt. She pointed to the lower shelf. “Just put them in the bins there.”
Merritt peeked at the small plastic objects and shrugged. “Okay.”
Tara started on her own box. After a minute, she said, “So, Carver, Merritt Carver, tell me a secret.”
Merritt’s hand froze midair.
Shit. She swallowed. Looked at Tara. “Secret?”
Tara nodded. “Yep” She smiled. “Something you don’t want anyone to know about. . . but you’re telling me anyway.”
Merritt dropped a plastic piece into the box. She stared at Tara. The question was more difficult than Tara knew. More dangerous. Merritt could tell her a secret. She could tell Tara a great many secrets. She could tell Tara things that would haunt her dreams for weeks on end. Things that would have Tara running for the nearest police station. Telling Tara a secret— her secrets— could put her in more danger than she was in already. Those secrets could drive her away for good. Which would keep her safe. Safe from Agent Harris. Safe from Merritt herself. Was she willing to do that? Lose Tara? Lose the only friend she had? To keep her safe, could she do it? Did she really,
really want to? All she had to do was tell. She swallowed. “Okay.”
TBC
EA
Can't wait for more 
