**4WiccanLuv: Thank you - and you can be as greedy as you damn well please. *G*
**Autumn: *sheepish look* I actually did fall asleep. Twice. But yeah, I kinda' had a crap day, too :P Which is partly why this took so long ... this update isn't all death and destruction or anything, but it's not the happy light stuff I >want< to be writing right now.
But here's the update. Technically, it's part 47a, but I'm considering posting part 47b AFTER I post part 48a. Did that make sense? Of course, it's sort of a moot point right now, because I don't have either one actually written down.
Title: Answering Darkness Part 47 – Searching
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to
pink_overalls@yahoo.com Summary: Tara looks for Willow. Good Tara.
Spoiler Warning: Up to and including "Tabula Rasa" in Season 6.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm just borrowing them.
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For the purpose of this story, all events of Tabula Rasa took place exactly as shown in the series; however, no subsequent episodes will affect this piece. We're splitting from canon here, because I impatiently began writing this before 'Smashed' and 'Wrecked' aired.
Answering Darkness - Part 47
Searching
By Sassette
“Gone? What do you mean, ‘gone’?” Dawn asked, joining Giles, Buffy and Tara at the foot of the stairs, Xander and Anya right behind her.
“Giles, you got her?” Buffy asked, passing Tara’s shaking body to the Watcher. “I’m going to check upstairs,” she said, then turned, taking the steps three at a time, then disappearing around the corner.
Only Giles’ grip around Tara’s waist kept her upright, her legs too weak to hold her up. Giles was at something of a loss as to what to do as silent sobs wracked her frame.
Dawn could only stare. She had never seen Tara like this. Tara was always so strong and so understanding, and now she just seemed broken. It ripped Dawn up in side to see it, about a million times worse than how she had felt that night Tara had walked away.
“Xander, help Giles,” Anya demanded, shoving him forward.
Xander broke out of his stupor at the push, getting an arm around Tara’s shoulders and helping her to stand upright as his mind turned in circles. Gone? Willow couldn’t be gone. She was upstairs doing the computer thing, and any second now Buffy would come downstairs and tell them it was all a mistake.
No one expected it when Anya marched up and slapped Tara soundly across the face, yelling, “snap out of it!”
Everyone froze. They stopped and stared as Tara’s sobs halted, her head snapping up to look at Anya with wide eyes.
“You slapped me,” she said in a wondering tone, as if she couldn’t really believe it.
“Yeah, well, if Willow’s gone, you have to find her,” Anya said, grabbing Tara’s arm and pulling her away from Giles and Xander, who were still goggling at Anya like they’d never seen her before.
“Dawn, if those two don’t snap out of it, slap them,” Anya instructed, pulling Tara back into the living room and carelessly shoving her previous inventory off the table. She turned to the witch, who had raised a hand to cover her face where Anya had struck her.
“I really am sorry,” Anya said sincerely, her expression softening. Then she pointed at the table, and she was all business again, indicating the newly cleared space. “But you have to do the yoga thing, and you can’t do it when you’re all hyperventilating and about to pass out.”
Tara looked from Anya to the table, then back again, her mind settling on the fact that her friend had slapped her, focusing on something that was safe – something that wasn’t the fact that Willow wasn’t in the house. Anya had hit her. Her brow furrowed. Why had Anya hit her? Anya wouldn’t hit her – they were friends. And she wanted her to do yoga?
“Do I have to slap you again?” Anya asked warily. “Because I didn’t like it. In fact, I hated it, and I never want to have to do it again. It was unpleasant,” she complained.
“Anya, you hit her,” Xander blurted from the doorway.
“Why is everyone so hung up on that?” Anya asked. “That’s not the issue – the issue is Willow. Y’know? Willow? Redhead who isn’t here where she’s supposed to be? And Tara was hysterical. I slapped her. Now she’s not hysterical.” Anya turned and glared at her friend. “But she’s not helpful, either. Tara, do the yoga to find Willow, and do it now!” she demanded.
Tara watched all this unfold as if from a great distance, everyone’s words faint and echo=y around her.
Find. Anya had said find. Find what?
Willow.
Tara gasped. “Oh, God, I have to find Willow,” she said quickly, a determined look crossing her face. She climbed onto the table, crossing her legs and attempting to settle herself.
“Oh!” Xander let out, his eyes widening. “Is this the tinkerbell thing?”
Tara just nodded in response, then reached out to touch Anya’s arm. “Thank you,” she said, the corner of her mouth quirking up.
An answering little smile appeared on Anya’s face. “Just don’t ever make me do it again,” she said emphatically, nodding to stress her point.
Tara nodded her agreement, then rested her wrists on her knees, her eyes sliding shut. Her breathing deepened and steadied as she let her surrounding fade away and she centered herself.
Find Willow.
She had to find Willow.
A picture of Willow appeared before her mind’s eye, and she focused on it, willing herself to find her – to be with her. She felt a slight tugging in her chest, then a sense of freedom – of flying. She left the house, taking in the surrounding area outside. To the left she sensed the streets of Sunnydale, and to the right Sunnydale was shrouded in mist and shadow. A masking spell. No, not a spell. A charm. She remembered Willow showing it to her.
A small pang of hurt echoed through her being as she realized Willow was hiding from her, but she crushed it as she felt the emotion pulling her back towards her body. It didn’t matter. She would find Willow anyway – she would always find Willow.
She flew higher above the mists and looked down at it swirling and growing in some areas, receding in others. She could tell in which general direction Willow had gone, but the random movements of the mist made it impossible to pinpoint a specific location. The twinkling blue light that was Tara’s essence descended into the fog, illuminating a small area around itself. She couldn’t see, couldn’t tell, where Willow had gone, and a wave of frustration washed over her.
Again, she felt herself pulled back towards her body as her emotions surfaced. The spell required calm, and letting her feelings of worry interfere would only work against her purpose, so she quieted herself, willing herself to just be.
Her love for Willow welled up inside of her, and she felt herself move again, but away from her body, speeding surely through the mists. This puzzled her for a moment, then far away, her body smiled, and her light twinkled with understanding – her love for Willow wasn’t something she felt, but rather something she was. She let her love guide her blindly through the mists, trusting in her connection to her love.
She came upon a cone of orange light, brilliant in the grey shadowy fog. A shape lumbered through it, then she saw a flash of red in the shadows.
Willow.
She moved closer, hovering near, and Willow looked right at her, seeming to freeze in place. Tara twinkled, begging Willow to return to her, when that lumbering shadow stepped between them.
The Construct – Tara recognized it immediately, but could not intervene when it pulled back its angry claws, looming over Willow’s prone form and catching her in the arm.
Tara felt Willow’s pain and terror as if they were her own, and she screamed. Her eyes popped open, sweat covering her body and her breathing quick and intense.
“Dear lord, are you all right?” Giles asked worriedly. Tara blinked twice, trying to catch her breath, calm her heart, and find her voice. Her mind replayed what she had seen, picking up details she hadn’t known she’d noticed, so focused on Willow she had been.
“Train station,” she managed to gasp out, unfolding her legs and stretching them gingerly, each muscle in her body tight and cramped with tension. “We have to hurry. The Construct is there,” she said tersely, getting to her feet.
“Buffy,” Giles yelled, and immediately, the slayer hurried down the stairs, having searched Willow and Tara’s room.
Willow’s computer was missing, as was the box of baking soda left in the room. A cross, some holy water, and a stake were also missing. Wherever Willow had gone, she had gone willingly.
“What do we have?” Buffy asked, her body rigid with tension, giving the impression that she was ready to spring into violence at a moment’s notice.
“She’s at the train station – The Construct is there,” Giles said. Buffy just nodded, opening the hall closet and pulling out a duffel bag.
“Dawn,” Buffy said, turner to her sister as she unzipped the bag and began handing out weapons. “I don’t have time to argue with you about you going. This is easy to use.” Buffy handed over a mace, and Dawn took it gingerly, looking at her sister with wide eyes. “You stay out of any fighting. No arguments. But if something comes at you and you can’t run away, swing that really hard. Eyes, throat, or groin. Everyone ready?” she asked, looking at her friends, who all nodded. “Then let’s go,” she finished, and they all filed out, Xander, Anya, and Tara piling into Xander’s car as Dawn, Buffy and Giles got into Giles’ rental.
“Can’t you drive faster?” Tara asked after they had left Buffy’s street, her eyes meeting Xander’s in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah,” Anya said, backing up her friend. “Be a man. Floor it.”
“And with that attack on my fragile male ego, watch as I fold like a little girl,” Xander muttered, his foot pressing down on the accelerator. “We need one of those little sirens. How many times have we saved the world? We SO deserve one of those sirens.”
He had already been going well over the speed limit, but the car with the slayer in it was being driven by a staid british guy. But Tara was right – this was Willow, and he would take on something much scarier than the Construct with his bare hands to keep Willow safe. Glancing in the rearview mirror and seeing Tara’s worried expression, he knew she felt the same. Only more so.
He looked back at the road, barely noting the homes and businesses he passed in a blur. He had never thought that Willow could possibly date someone who was good enough for her. He had liked Oz, yeah, but good enough for Willow? He had never though so. Of course, he had never told Willow that, but that would have been … awkward. But Tara was something else – and not only good enough for Willow in his estimation, but perfect for her.
“Hey, ladies,” Xander said, casually taking a corner on two wheels. “When we get through this mess, how about the four of us go on a double date? We’ve never really done the double date thing.”
“I’ve never understood the purpose of a double date,” Anya observed. “Unless it’s a thinly veiled prelude to group sex? That, at least, would make sense.”
Tara broke out of her reverie where her mind had turned over far too many horrible scenarios. They were, in fact, too horrible to contemplate, but she had anyway, her brain calling up possibility after possibility, each more horrific than the last. She looked at Xander and Anya, the confidence and ease of their voices bolstering her own flagging hopes, giving her courage.
“You see, Anya, it’s like this,” Xander began, taking another corner far too fast. “Tara’s your best friend, and Willow’s my best friend, so you like spending time with Tara and I like spending time with Willow. Now, the double date means we all get to spend time with each other, and then the next day, you and Tara would get together and talk about Willow and me behind our backs, and Willow and I would talk about you two. Then we’d all go home and spill the details. See?”
“Oh, that does sound like fun. It’s both intriguing and underhanded, yet allows for non-orgasmic bonding,” anya said with an eager nod. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?” Anya asked, turning in her seat and looking at Tara.
“It sounds perfect,” Tara said hoarsely. And suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to take Willow and that double date with Xander and Anya. She wanted to spend time with her girl and these two people who had come to mean so much to her.
Xander pulled into the parking lot adjacent to the train station. “We’ll discuss details later,” he said, bringing the car to a screeching halt. Giles pulled in moments later, and the Scooby Gang grabbed their weapons, going into the train station.
They strode surely through the waiting area, grim looks on their faces as Tara went to the ticket count.
“Did a redhead come in here awhile ago? Green eyes – this tall, wearing a striped shirt?” she questioned, glaring at the man and silently daring him not to answer.
The man looked at the small blonde, and then the give visibly armed people behind her. He gulped. “She bought a ticket to LA. Platform seven,” he said, raising a shaking hand and pointing. He let out a sigh of relief when they all immediately started running, then he picked up the phone and called the police.
“I’m almost sorry I didn’t get to shake him down,” Buffy said, her agitation evident as she springted towards the platform, leaving the others in her dust. Except, she noted as she glanced back, Tara. Somehow, Tara was only two steps behind as they raced up the stairs and onto platform seven.
“Willow?” Tara yelled, looking around. The orange glow from one of the lights spilled all around her as an empty platform met her eyes. Buffy started searching the area, her sense on alert as Tara took a few steps forward, out of the circle’s light.
Tara knelt down, her eyes adjusting to the gloom. Her eyes and fingertips found the post at the same time.
“She’s gone,” Tara said, her voice cold and distant.
“Yeah, I don’t see her,” Buffy said, letting out a frustrated breath. “Are you sure she was here?” she asked, having missed Tara’s tinkerbell impression, as the rest of the Scoobies came hugging up the steps, spreading out and looking around.
“Yes, I’m sure. She was here, and she’s hurt. This is her blood,” Tara said stonily. “That thing hurt her,” she ground out, her voice like ice.
“Tara, she’s okay,” Xander said, kneeling down and looking her in the eye. “The bad guy needs her alive tomorrow night. We still have time.”
“I, umm,” Giles said, looking around at the empty platform with sorrowful eyes. “I suggest we return to the house and plan our next course of action.
“And I say we go now,” Dawn piped up, her mace swinging. “I bet that ticket guy called the cops, and we can’t save Willow if we’re in jail,” she pointed out.
Tara nodded, rising to her feet. “Let’s go,” she said, walking out towards the tracks. “We can circle around to the parking lot this way. I’m not in the mood for jail tonight.”
Everyone followed, except Buffy, who caught Giles’ arm.
“Am I the only one worried about Tara, too?” Buffy asked quietly. “She doesn’t look like she’s handling this well. She has on Willow’s ‘I Owe You Pain’ face. That’s the ‘I’m Going To Take On A Hell God’ face. I don’t like seeing my friends wearing that face.”
“No, you’re quite right,” Giles whispered back as they headed to the parking lot after the others. “Tara has been under a tremendous amount of strain. It’s possible she could snap at any time.”
“And I always thought she was so sweet and quiet,” Buffy muttered, jogging a little to catch up with the group.
Giles sighed, watching swinging his axe up to his shoulder. “Yes, well, it’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?” he asked into the night.
by Mix » Sun Apr 14, 2002 3:16 pm 
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