by FIRESIGN » Wed Dec 02, 2009 6:07 pm
Chapter Eleven
Willow’s mind was reeling, so much so that she didn’t even hear her father return from work.
“Wills? Hon, are you okay?” He asked, sitting a bag of groceries on the kitchen table.
“What?” Willow said, snapping out of her daze.
“You okay? You seem like you were off in another world just now.” He said, concerned that maybe they had released her from the hospital prematurely.
“No…I mean…yeah…I’m fine, Dad…just thinking…”
“So what’s the topic of discussion in that brain of yours? I can see the wheels turning…” He said, jokingly.
“What are you talking about?”
“When you were just a kid…you’d get that same far-away look on your face…and whenever I’d ask you what you were thinking about…you’d say that your left brain was having a discussion with your right brain…you were such an odd kid!” He laughed, as he started unpacking the groceries.
“Dad…can I ask you a question?” Willow said, examining the contents of the grocery bag.
“Sure hon…what’s up?” He said, continuing to take the contents out of the bag.
“Say…you knew someone who liked this person…and her friends were telling her all kinds of bad things about the person…but that person has only been nice to you…but her friends are telling her not to hang out or do anything with that person…what would you do?” Willow babbled.
Ira looked at his daughter, smiling...the red-head had been a babbler since the moment she started talking.
“Well…I’d tell your ‘friend’ that her friends are probably trying to look out for her…but that she should judge a person based on what her experience with the person has been…not just on heresay.”
“Geez, Dad…heresay? You’re starting to sound like a lawyer!”
“Hey, no need to be mean!” He joked. “So who is it that Buffy and Xander are trying to turn you against?” He said, smiling.
“I said it was a friend…”
“Uh-huh…right. So who is it?”
“Tara…Tara Maclay.” Willow said, intently studying his reaction.
“The girl who pulled you from the surf? Seems real nice…wonder what the kids have against her.” Ira said, picking up a jar of spaghetti sauce. “Spaghetti okay by you?”
“Sure…” Willow said. “They…um…well…she’s just…different…”
“Everybody’s different...” Ira said, filling a pot with water and placing it on the stove. “…different doesn’t necessarily mean bad…”
“I agree…” Willow said, pulling a box of spaghetti from the grocery bag.
“You know…there was a time not-so-long ago that people like us were considered different…” Ira said, raising his eyebrow.
Willow knew exactly what he was talking about. Her grandmother had been a little girl in Warsaw during World War II. She had survived Birkenau only because she had what the Nazi’s had considered a ‘useful skill’… she made beautiful pottery, and because her hands were smaller, they could create more intricate patterns with the wheel. It was for this reason that she was spared the gas chamber. She had first told a young Willow the story when, she noticed the number tattooed on the inside of her Grandma’s arm. Even if what Buffy and Xander were teller her about Tara was true…she couldn’t turn her back on her.
“Tara was here earlier…a-and I think I did something that kind of upset her…” Willow confessed.
“So…what are you going to do about it?” Ira asked.
“Dad…can I borrow the car?” She said, a look of resolve spreading across her face.
Ira reached into his pocket, tossing her the keys.
“The Maclay’s live on that private drive off Oceanview Drive…you know where that is?” Ira asked.
“Yeah…that’s not too far from the beach, right?” Willow asked.
“Yep…just go past the beach and keep going…you’ll see the drive. You want me to hold off on the spaghetti?”
“Nope…I like it cold anyhow.” Willow said, giving Ira a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad!” She said, hurrying towards the door.
“Good luck, kitten!” Ira said just before the door closed.
Meanwhile…
“So…race you back to the house!” Anya said with a smile as she nudged her younger sister’s shoulder.
“Nah…I’m not really in the mood…readysetgo!” Tara said, springing to her feet, she disappeared through the woods, laughing.
“No fair!” Anya said, sprinting to catch up to her.
The two weaved through the forest effortlessly and had almost reached the house when Tara caught a familiar scent on the wind that stopped her mid-stride.
Anya stopped as well, catching the same scent as Tara.
“What is she doing here?” Tara wondered, out loud.
“Who is it?” Anya asked, not recognizing anything in particular about the scent, other than the fact that it was human.
“It’s her…” Tara said, looking to her sister. “It’s Willow.”
“You have to talk to her.” Anya said, putting a comforting hand on Tara’s shoulder. “It will be alright…I promise…”
Tara looked deep into Anya’s eyes. If Anya had even the slightest shred of a doubt, Tara would have seen it…but there was none to be found. She nodded, and they both continued their path to the house, arriving just as Willow pulled up to the house.
Alright, Rosenberg…what the hell were you thinking? If what Buffy and Xander said is true…you could very well be walking into a proverbial bee’s nest here…or should I say, vamp’s nest…
The Maclay’s house looked like it had been cut from the pages of an architectural magazine, something designed by the likes of Frank Lloyd Wright. The exterior was a collage of glass, with field stone borders keeping it all from crashing to the ground, surrounded by woods for as far as the eyes could see.
“Wow…” Willow said, putting the car into park. She sat there for a moment, just taking in the sight of it. She was startled by a light knock on her driver’s side window…it was Tara. She opened the car door, stepping outside.
“W-what are you doing here?” Tara asked, backing off, crossing her arms protectively in front of her, in a feeble attempt to hold herself back from Willow.
“We need to talk…” Willow said, surprised by the fact that she probably should be afraid…but oddly, she wasn’t.
“You shouldn’t b-be here…”
“Can we please just talk?” Willow asked.
Tara turned, walking away towards the trees. “There’s n-nothing to talk a-about.” She said, continuing down the path.
Willow tried to walk faster, but the ache in her ribs wouldn’t allow it.
“Ouch!” Willow said, holding her side. “Can you hold up for just a frilly second?”
Tara turned, her look softening as she saw that Willow was in pain.
“You n-need to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere…” Willow said, grimacing. “I know what you are.”
Tara moved closer, her eyes narrowing, somewhat taken aback by what Willow had just said.
“What exactly w-would that be?” She said, purposely getting closer in the hopes that the red-head would feel uncomfortable or intimidated and would go away. “Say it!” She said, sternly.
“Vampire.” Willow said, somewhat weakly.
Goddess! She does know!
“I’m not afraid of you, Tara…” Willow said, standing her ground.
“You should be.” Tara said, almost too calm as she circled Willow as though she was her prey.
“I’m not.”
“Then ask yourself the m-most basic question about me…what do I eat?” Tara said, plainly.
“I know what you’re doing…and it’s not going to work…you’re not going to scare me away, Tara!”
“Come with m-me.” Tara said, reaching her hand out to Willow. “You n-need to see something.”
Willow put her small hand in Tara’s, and the moment that her fingers intertwined with the other girl’s, they were off. Tara pulled Willow onto her back, running like the wind through the forest once again. The action took Willow by surprise and she clung tightly to Tara’s body. They continued for a few minutes until they came upon the cliff overlooking the ocean below. Tara eased Willow off of her back and walked near the edge by herself.
“Y-you need to see what I really am…” Tara said, pulling her sleeves up, exposing the skin of her arms underneath.
Willow’s mouth hung agape as she saw the creamy white skin of Tara’s arm sparkle like diamonds in the sunlight. The sparkling stopped at her wrists, as though she had put on a pair of gloves.
“You’re beautiful!” Willow said, mesmerized. “Not saying that you weren’t before…because you were…or I mean…you are! I thought you were gorgeous from the moment I saw you…but this…you look like diamonds! Why doesn’t your hands and face…?” Willow asked, reaching out to touch Tara’s arm, only to have her pull it defensively away.
“Theatrical m-make-up…covers it s-so it doesn’t show.” Tara said, quickly pulling her sleeves back down, as if ashamed of what she was.
“So sunlight doesn’t make you go ‘poof’? I thought that was a rule or something…” Willow babbled.
“Not my k-kind…there are others who are photosensitive, though…” Tara said, turning her back on Willow. “I tried to stay away from you…but I c-can’t.” She confessed.
“Then don’t!” Willow said, feeling the pull between the two of them.
“You’re like a drug t-to me…my own personal brand of heroin…” Tara explained. “…and even though I’ve never… I…I crave you...constantly.”
“Then quit running away from me!” Willow said, moving closer to the blonde once again, taking her cold hands in her own.
The two stood that way, hand-in-hand, gazing into each other’s eyes.
“S-so…the lioness fell for the lamb…” Tara said, smiling weakly.
“Stupid lamb.” Willow said, returning the smile.
“Crazy masochistic lioness.” Tara countered.
To Be Continued...
too please
some sense into eager-beaver-Buffy... I hope Tara talks with Giles before asking Willow to become a vampire so that there will not be unnecessary bloodshed...
poor willow and tara
