London Rayne. Part One.
Author: WiccanBex
Rating: PG-13 for this part (NC-17 for the whole thing).
Spoilers: Set after The Gift. So if you haven’t seen it and don’t wanna know…
Summary: Willow and Tara take a well-deserved holiday… things never go as planned, huh?
Disclaimer: Not mine. None of it’s mine except, maybe, the plot. Sue me if ya dare – it’ll cost ya more than I got to give.
Feedback: yes please! Pretty please? Love ya forever…
Author’s notes: Set in England.
*****
Willow stepped out of the white taxi and grimaced, “Raining.” She stated, seemingly to herself. “Nice lack of surprise.”
“It’s England, Sweetie… that’s what it does here.” Tara replied as she crept from the taxi into the downpour.
It was dark. Not because the sun had set, but because it was hidden from view by thick black clouds. Willow took her lover’s hand in her own and moved away from the car as it drove into the thick fog behind them.
“Remind me why we’re here again?” the red-haired witch pleaded as they sought shelter from the elements.
“Um… the experience?” the blond witch ventured. Willow raised her eyebrows questioningly. “OK… the, um… the weather?” Tara giggled. She didn’t care where they were, or how Mother Nature chose to greet them. She was with her Willow. Away from Sunnydale and everything that plagued them. “Look on the bright side --“
“No Hellmouth… I know. And thank you… for convincing me to come here.” Willow finished, looking into Tara’s deep blue eyes. She smiled, placing her right hand behind her lover’s head and pulling her close, allowing her fingers to become tangled in the blond hair. She caught the other girl’s full lips in her own and kissed her gently.
“You’re welcome.”
They gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment, oblivious to the rain, before lifting their luggage from the wet pavement and carrying it to the door of the building in front of them. It was tall and wide, but so was every other building within view. The walls were covered in a think layer of soot, disguising any beauty that may hide behind it. Willow lifted her hand to the door and knocked on the dark wood.
“Miss Rosenberg? Miss Maclay?” the voice came from behind them, and Willow jumped when she heard her name.
The two young witches turned to face the man who had addressed them. He was dressed in a smart black suit and wore a pair of thin, silver-rimmed glasses. He spoke with a British accent that was fairly relaxed, especially compared to the one they were used to hearing from Giles, and he had a warm smile. He removed his glasses and polished them against his sleeve before slipping them into his pocket and holding out his hand to the two girls. Willow shook it gently as Tara shifted from one foot to the other, trying not to draw attention to herself.
“Mr Stuart?” she asked, her voice full of hope. She sighed with relief when he smiled and nodded.
“Please, call me James.” He smiled and looked at them both for a second before gasping and shaking his head. “Oh! Look at you both! You’re drenched… and here I am keeping you on the front step.” He reached between them and pushed the door open. “You’d think they’d lock the damn thing once in a while…” he muttered as he ushered them inside.
The interior of the house was completely different to the exterior. The walls were elaborately decorated and ornate sculptures stood on tall antique tables. Willow gasped. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen so many…” she didn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she took Tara’s hand in her own and a wide smile crept across her face.
Tara shook her head slowly, “There’s… there’s magick here…”
“What did you expect, Miss Maclay?” James asked slowly. “The Watcher’s Council learned long ago that the only way to fight magick is with magick itself. It’s purely preventative, I assure you.” He promised hurriedly, noting her apprehensive mien.
Willow nodded, “See, baby - preventative. There’s nothing to worry about… OK?”
“Yeah… um… yeah… I just…”
“It’s OK, Tara.” Willow promised, nodding her head and stroking her lover’s hair. “This is just what we need - a holiday away from the Hellmouth. Away from fighting evil.”
“Ah… well… actually, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” The Englishman ventured gingerly.
The two witches turned to look at him.
“There’s something that we may need your help with. Just a slight… demon… problem. It’s nothing… really. It’s just… with your experience of the Craft, I’m sure you’ll be able to deal with it in time to still be able to enjoy your holiday. London has quite a bit to see...”
“Demon.” Tara repeated in a whisper. “So, the magick…”
“I didn’t lie. It *is* preventative. It’s imperative that the demon in question doesn’t gain access to the information held within these walls. If it did --“
“The end of the world.” Tara’s eyes were directed at the floor. She could barely speak; her voice was low and strangled. Willow reached for her, but she backed away, her hand raised and shaking by her face.
“Perhaps. If they knew our secrets, there’d be no stopping them.”
Willow looked at James, her eyes wide. “Why didn’t Giles say anything? He said…” she sighed. “This was supposed to be a holiday away from the Hellmouth. Giles said that you were his friend and… and that we could stay with you for a while. He didn’t say --“
“He didn’t say anything about demons.” Tara finished. “Willow…”
“It’s OK, Tara… we’re leaving…” the red-haired Wiccan looked at James. “We’re sorry… but we just can’t do this. I don’t know what you’ve been told, but we --“
“Friends of the Slayer, I know.” He stepped towards them. “I was very sorry to hear of your loss… the Slayer… Miss Summers… she was instrumental in the fight against the forces of darkness… she died a noble death and will be sorely missed. She can’t help us now, but *you* can. Together, you can prevent the apocalypse.”
“Not interested.” Tara looked up at the anxious Watcher, no longer quite as nervous. “We saved the world… and we lost a friend.” She looked at Willow, tears forming in her sombre eyes. “I won’t do that again.”
end of part one