by AntigoneUnbound » Mon Nov 11, 2002 11:51 pm
Hey Kittens—A few more responses to your incredible feedback and then it’s on to Part 7.
]]Ann-Marie: Lots of people loved the W/B friendship aspect. I think we’ve all missed that a lot. Thanks!
]]LittleCrazy80: Glad you like the humor. It’s part of what I most enjoy about writing this fic.
]]Zahir: I’m glad the banter (internal AND external) resonates for you. I’ve noticed that that’s something you do quite well in your own fics, including "Childhood’s Hour," which I am immensely loving. Thanks for your kind words.
]]Grimaldi: I’m actually surprised the show itself hasn’t included some facetious reference to the May-hem. I’m psyched your liked it! Thanks.
]]TheRose: What happened to Tara? Hm…I wonder if we’ll find out in this installment?
]]VampNo12: Yeah, the aspect of Buffy (and anyone else) seeing Tara as a person in her own right is such a powerful one to a lot of us, it seems. Tara’s strength and presence just seemed to grow exponentially, and I loved her emergence. The Noxoneous demon was just fun to write, in a gut-wrenching, resentfully fun kinda way…So the tension building worked for you? Good. I spent a lot of time playing with the time increments, and I’m relieved that it was emotionally realistic to you. Most of all, I appreciate your comments about the scar exchange scene. I didn’t want it to seem heavy-handed, or contrived such that readers felt like I was smacking them up-side the head with A Very Poignant Moment. I think that’s why I tried to have Tara’s description be understated; in addition, I think she’s far more emotionally reactive to other people’s pain, relative to her own. Thanks a lot for your feedback. It’s always thoughtful and captures nuances that in turn open the piece up a little more to me.
]]JennY: Thanks for responding! I appreciate your taking the time. I’m glad that Tara’s description of her scar felt "on" to you. I wanted to do it well. Thanks again for checking this out.
]]Insanity: Oh yeah…Tara in a leather jacket. I needed a moment to myself after visualizing that. Glad to share the bounty with you! Thanks for writing.
]]Sleek: Hey girl! Great work over there on "Finding You"! The sweeps connection was a fun one. Like I mentioned above, I’m kinda surprised the show itself hasn’t poked fun of itself about the timing factor. I’m glad the love scenes work for you. I want their actions to be grounded in their emotional realities, both individually and as a couple. And I agree with you completely about the way that the show has treated the friendship b/w Willow and Buffy, especially in the last 2 years. But we, as Kittens, will get our girls back, each and every one! Thanks, as always, for your amazing feedback and support. It really brings a smile to my face just seeing your name on the thread.
]]PJFreak: (Great name, by the way) Thanks for checking this out; there’s a lot of great stuff on the board. And thanks, too, for taking the time to let me know how you like it. Hope you enjoy future installments.
]]TromdeGrey: I’m glad that Anya feels solid and believable to you. I think she’s someone who is easily (and mistakenly) reduced to a caricature, and I didn’t want to do that. I appreciate you taking the time to comment on it. And keep me on my toes about Anya!
]]Karen: I’m glad your priorities have straightened (so to speak). Yeah, the idea of a werewolf petting zoo was kinda fun, at least at 1am in my office! Hope work remains, well, workable for you. Thanks for the encouragement!
]]BV: Thanks for your great feedback. The montage image came to me very abruptly and it just felt right. I had given W&T’s love scenes a lot of description (which was certainly fun to write) but for that one, I wanted a sparer, tighter narrative, one that sort of circled and eddied around in Willow’s mind until only that one truth remained. Thanks again for taking the time to give your thoughts.
]]Jenny: Wow—I’ve never had a piece described as "lush" before…Thanks! The word very much fits how I see their love (before ME drove them, and us, straight to hell). And girlfriend, you and I share a seat on the bus where reactions to "acceptance" are concerned. My abiding response to that kind of sentiment is, "Well aren’t you just too beneficent for words?" And people say that acceptance is better than rejection but I for one am tired of being asked to be grateful for not having my teeth kicked in. As far as your little paws are concerned…oh, my friend, you may want to call for back-up…Thanks so much for your thoughtful responses to this fic. I really appreciate it.
Tulipp: I’m so glad you got my feedback! I wasn’t sure of the process involved in authors learning about new feedback on their completed fic. As I hope I managed to convey, your work just amazed me. I understand how an idea can capture us and, in our determined efforts to write it in new words or paint it in new colors, we are transformed. I would so love to read anything you’ve written. You clearly have a great eye for character development, so I appreciate your feedback on these characters’ depictions. I’m especially glad the "less is more" approach resonates with you. I confess that the depiction of Willow’s orgasm and her circling, narrowing lens of realization was one that felt good to me, on both very instinctual AND narrative levels. And now, in Part 7, I most humbly beseech you for thoughts re: perspective, much as I tapped your knowledge in Part 3. Thank you so much for the thoughtfulness of your responses.
One final thought…If anyone has a good understanding of "lay" vs. "lie" and all their tense permutations, I would very much appreciate your sending it my way. I’ve spent some time w/ Strunk and White, but I’m still not comfortable with my grasp of the words. Thanks!
On Second Thought: Part 7
Premise: Way the heck back in S4, Willow makes a difficult choice
Disclaimer: I own nothing but six wonderful cats, none of whom I would ever allow to be cruelly and capriciously shot. Just thinkin’ out loud here…
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Up to the end of "New Moon Rising"
Distribution: But of course…Please give credit and disclaimer. Thanks.
Feedback: I’d definitely appreciate it.
Summary: Willow initially chose Oz, in no small part b/c she believed he needed her more. It became clear, however, that her love for Tara was only growing. Willow ran into Tara at the Bronze, only to find Tara there with another woman. Willow fled, Tara followed, Big Time Sensuality (to quote Bjork) ensued. Much later, Oz stopped by on an ill-advised whim. He wolfed out, but Tara employed a soothing spell that included, in essence, offering herself to the werewolf while Willow was anchored in a state of safety and calm. After a rather tenuous stand-off, Oz bounded out the door, still in wolf form. The next day, Willow and Tara called a Scooby meeting to talk about the night’s events, a conversation that included Willow coming out to everyone. The meeting ended with the plan that everyone try to locate Oz, using a reasoned mixture of caring and caution. By the next evening, however, Oz was still MIA. Leaving Giles’ house, Willow felt a sudden and inexplicable conviction that he was still in Sunnydale, and that this whole drama was far from over. She and Tara spend the next day making love and just basically wallowing in each other. Tara sends Willow off for some quality time with Buffy; when Willow’s calls go unanswered, Willow becomes worried. She and Buffy go to Tara’s room, only to find a mess. Tara is nowhere to be found.
***
Talk.
That was all he wanted to do. Just talk.
He could control himself; he knew it. All that time in Nepal; all that time with the monks. Life didn’t always go how you wanted it to. You didn’t always get a vote, or the final vote. But you did get to choose how you reacted; how you dealt. You got to choose whether you’d be the person you said you wanted to be.
Not that he could ever pretend he didn’t have the wolf in him. He always would. But he did have a choice about whether it lived inside of him, as part of him; or whether it ruled him.
But that was the bitch of it, wasn’t it? Now that he knew he had the choice, he had no excuse. He couldn’t just kill anyone who threatened him and say it was the wolf.
That was good, though—right? He didn’t want to kill anybody now. Not even…her. The one who took Willow away—
He couldn’t think that way. That way led to the changing; mutating into the creature whose only instinct was to rip and devour and destroy.
There didn’t have to be a bad guy in this scenario, or a bad girl, either. He had known Willow still felt…that she still thought about her, the other one—
Her name was Tara. He needed to be able to say the name. He had practiced saying it. He didn’t have to change. Willow loved him, but not the way she used to. Now she loved Tara.
Now she loved Tara. And Tara was the one who touched her and kissed her and made her body respond like…He had smelled it, how her body must have reacted to the other one’s mouth and fingers; not like anything he had ever smelled on her after he had touched her. What had they done that made her entire body radiate such satisfaction?
Oh God—the rage…So white-hot he could taste his own fury; harsh, and metallic.
He didn’t want to change. He didn’t have to change. He wouldn’t change.
He’d find Willow and say he was sorry; and then he would say goodbye. He’d do it during the day, and hope that it provided some little bit of immunity from the change. He’d do it in a public place…But that hadn’t stopped him before, not when he saw her. When he saw Tara.
Tara. Willow had chosen her.
He didn’t have to change. He wouldn’t change.
Why not just leave? Why risk it? Because he didn’t have to change. He knew that. He could stop it. He would prove it to himself; and to her, to Willow, too; so that her last picture of him wasn’t as some slavering beast, but as Oz. He would show her that he was still in there. She would see the person she had fallen in love with.
And then he’d leave.
So he went to Willow’s room, but no one was there.
He knew where she probably was.
He didn’t have to change. He wouldn’t change.
He could do this. It would prove to Willow, even more, that he was still Oz. He would hold onto his humanity and do the right thing and say goodbye. That’s how she would remember him.
The other one answered the door on the first knock.
***
"Willow, stop! We don’t know what’s happened; for all we know Tara got some emergency phone call from a friend and left in a hurry. She could have knocked this stuff over on her way out the door."
Willow tried to force control back into her body, but her legs felt like rubber bands that had been stretched too far and then snapped back. She wanted to stand, but couldn’t imagine doing so. Buffy was kneeling in front of her, gripping her shoulders tightly. She looked up into the hazel eyes, and felt her throat clenching around the words.
"He has her. Buffy, Oz has Tara."
"Dammit, Will, we don’t know that!"
"I do. I know it—"
"No, you don’t! Willow, think about it. If he had been here, and wolfed out, we’d be able to tell. I mean, there’s no…There’s no definite sign that he…attacked her."
"There’s no blood; I know that. But I also know he has her, Buffy. And I know he’ll kill her."
"Willow, how? How can you know that?"
It seemed like every nuance, every tingling sense of déjà vu she’d ever had, every little voice she’d ever heard that seemed not quite her own was gathering within her as she looked at Buffy and answered her:
"Because I can feel her. And she’s terrified."
***
He didn’t have to change. He wouldn’t change.
"Oz…" She was afraid of him. Of course she was afraid of him.
"Tara, I’m sorry. I just want to say, God, how sorry I am. And then I’m leaving town." There, he’d done it. He’d said her name. He hadn’t changed.
She was still afraid, he could tell; but there was also gentleness in her eyes, too. She was so gentle; she would never hurt anyone.
There didn’t have to be a bad guy here.
"Oz, are y-you OK? No one knew where you w-were." That’s right; she stuttered. This shy, stuttering girl had walked into Willow’s life and—
No. He wouldn’t think that way. He wouldn’t change.
"I’m OK. I just wanna say I’m sorry and say good-bye to Willow." There—he’d said her name too, and he hadn’t changed.
"W-Willow’s not here. I just got b-back myself. I w-was getting a paper." She waved the Sunday edition as if offering proof. "I think she’s w-with Buffy." Was she lying? No, Willow wasn’t here; he would’ve been able to smell her. That was a small break, maybe. He didn’t have to see them together.
But was she trying to let him know that Willow was safe with the Slayer? Was she telling him to stay away from Willow because she figured he’d try to hurt her? What did she know about his relationship with Willow? Only what Willow had told her, probably, and that wasn’t all of it; it wasn’t anywhere near all of it. They’d had something good, until he messed it up. But then he’d left to straighten it out, and all the time away he’d thought of her and coming back to her. And he’d done it, too…all the wandering and the anguish and the work; he’d done it, and then he’d come back to make it right. But Willow wasn’t there anymore. This one had crept into her mind and her heart and her bed—
No. God, no. He couldn’t think that way. He didn’t want to change. He wouldn’t change.
He saw her looking at him with…what? Pity? Did she feel sorry for him? Because she had her? Because she was touching Willow; she had taken her. She had taken Willow away from him and claimed her and now she looked at him as if she’d known all along she’d win; that she’d get Willow.
Don’t. Don’t. No. Didn’t have to be—to be a bad guy. Everyone was doing the best they could. Willow was. He was. This one…Tara was. He didn’t have to change. He could be the man he said he wanted to be. Breathing…That was his hope and his salvation.
The phone rang.
***
Buffy looked at her in silence.
She wants to argue with me, but she knows I’m right.
Finally, she said, "OK, Will. I believe you."
Willow felt the tears sliding down her face. "Buffy, she’s so scared. Oz has her, and she’s scared and I’m not there to protect her. She’s there because of me."
For a moment Willow thought that Buffy might actually slap her. As it was, her eyes narrowed to slits and she practically spit out her words.
"Stop it! Self-flagellation is a luxury we don’t have time for. She fell in love with you knowing the risks. Love on the Hellmouth is not for the faint of heart, Willow, and Tara is anything but faint of heart. So lose the martyr monologue and let’s figure out where they are."
Willow gulped back her sobs. "OK. You’re right. We have to find her, before—" She looked up, voice and heart breaking as one. "What if we’re already too late?"
"Not going there, Will. Waste. Of. Energy." Buffy drew in a deep breath, and then expelled it harshly. Suddenly she looked up. "We’re not too late, because you can still feel her. Right?" When Willow nodded, she continued. "So send her back some—I don’t know—hope, and courage, and…"
"Tara already has more courage than you can even imagine." Her voice sounded amazingly calm to her own ears.
Buffy gave her a small grin. "Then she’s way ahead of the game, right? So see if you can link up with her somehow. Use those big honkin’ crania of yours and hers and see if she can tell you where she’s at."
Willow forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply, and then began reaching out in her mind.
Tara? Baby?
***
"Tara? Baby? It’s me, your love-struck girlfriend again. Um, give me a call when you get in, OK?"
God, no. No, no, no. Her voice; Willow’s. She used to talk to him that way.
Didn’t she?
Did she even care that he was destroyed beyond words? Did it matter to her that he loved her? Wanted to spend the rest of his life showing her how much? Had she thought about him at all before she had kissed the other one—this one, looking at him with all that terror—and lay with her, and opened her body to her? Given to this one what had been his?
No. He didn’t have to change.
He wouldn’t change.
Yet.
***
"Can you feel her? Get a lock on her?" Buffy was staring anxiously at Willow, who sat trembling with exhaustion and dread.
Willow shook her head. "It comes and goes. I don’t even know if she hears me. I think she does, but it’s like she flickers in and out. And every time she goes out…" She clutched her stomach, feeling it roil and protest.
"Every time she goes out, she comes back. Willow, you have to hold on, just like she’s doing. You can do this. She needs you."
Willow nodded, and carved her voice deeper into the space that she and Tara shared.
Tara? Hold on, Baby. I’ll find you. Just give me any help you can. Guide me, Baby. Because I love you so much. Just a little hint, Sweetie. Bring me to you.
***
"Oz, I’m s-so sorry you h-heard that. God, I’m so s-sorry."
She was terrified. She should be terrified. And still her eyes held that—what was it? Compassion? Gentleness?
It was pity.
She felt sorry for him? With what he could do to her?
"Come with me." He wasn’t changing. The hand extended was smooth and bare.
She was shaking her head. "No, Oz. I-I don’t think I should."
"I don’t think it matters what you think."
That scared her. He could see a second note of fear enter her eyes, and join with the first. He savored the chord that it created.
"Oz, I’m not g-going anywhere w-with you."
The hand was still perfectly smooth. "Either you come with me, or I rip you open and then go get Willow."
And that note…that was the most delicious one yet. He could feel the fear rolling off of her. And yet, barely a wave for herself. It was a deafening roar of fear for Willow. She would do anything to save her. Just like Willow had begged him to take her instead of this one.
"Everyone has choices to make, Tara. What’s yours?"
The hand, he marveled, was perfect. Bare and utterly human. He used the hand to clasp her trembling one. Her terror was intoxicating.
He wouldn’t have to change. Yet. But when they were out of here, in his domain, he would. There was no longer any reason not to.
TO BE CONTINUED