Gods Served and Abandoned

[VampNo12]

Mary, another intriguing update! In trying to understand the Maclay family dynamic I keep going back to Tara thinking, ("What did I do Daddy? Just tell me, and I will apologize. But you have tell me what I did.", as well as Tara saying, "It was like she had some power over him and didn't like it but he wouldn't, or couldn't, do anything about it."). Now Nathan puts a great deal of faith behind a rigid family structure with clearly defined roles, which underneath is his way of maintaining control (ie Nathan holding all the power). However, it appears in the past that Tara's mother exerted her own type of "control" over him (ie she wasn't the "little woman" cowering under Nathan)..



I might be way off-base, but I wonder if this "power" comes from his wife being able to truly "see" him. In many ways Nathan is "playing a role", his "cold" demeanor never showing how he truly feels underneath (keeping people off-balance, always guessing his true motives), and thus he is able to maintain "power", an upper-hand. Now I do believe he loves his wife, but I think he also see's love as a frivolous emotion that brings him "to his knees" (ie he's at the mercy of someone else, he's not in control). Thus, he might feel love, but in his mind this emotion is a weakness that makes him feel vulnerable, as well as "exposed" (in the sense he can't hide from her). So in Nathan's dysfunctional way to restore balance he takes his frustrations of being weak out on his children. Although, I also believe there may be a dark secret that stops Nathan cold from embracing Tara (ie even when he tries to show something resembling gratitude it never comes fully to fruition). Or maybe Tara just reminds Nathan too much of his wife, which is why he acts in this fashion.



I just loved the "Tasty Tara Tater-Tots" exchange (and hey I like tater-tots ). Also found these lines resonated with me, ("I think we all sort of make this... I don't know, mosaic I guess, where we each try to add some piece that we believe we're good at. And the end product usually works pretty well, but it's because we've each give something unique."), which conveyed beautifully that yes they banter back and forth (tease each other), but no one is looked down upon as "lesser", but rather each has a strength/perspective they "bring to the table" making each scooby a valued/contributing member.



Lastly, you captured the painful part of their conversation (about her past) beautifully. I can so feel how hard it must be for Tara to talk about such horrible times (especially the sense of not wanting the past to "taint" the "light"/love she has found with Willow in the present). As for Willow she was just wonderful in her handling of Tara. In other words, the depth of their love (strength of their connection) shined through in the way she offered comfort/reassurance (ie making sure Tara understood nothing about her past could change how she see's/feel about her), coaxing Tara with questions, but never forcing/pushing Tara to share anything she wasn't ready to confide, and wanting to understand (gain some insights) so she can protect Tara to the best of her ability. Speaking of protection the dreams defintiely up's the threat of what's to come (sense of danger), and I can't wait to see what happens next!



Vicki

Edited by: VampNo12  at: 2/5/03 11:51:36 pm

[Mix]

Hi Mary,



I'm afraid I'm not as eloquent as most of the people here so I will restrict my feedback to saying how wonderful I think this story is.



Your writing always has the ability to move me.

Thank you



Mix

_____________


Proud member of the Nancy Tribe!

[deixs]

Hi Mary!



Great update as always!!!



Stef

Willow: Hey, clothes!

Tara: Better not get used to 'em.

Willow: Yes ma'm

[DarkWiccan]

"Tasty Tara tater-tots"...



Nice alliteration!



Excellent as always... the dreams have me intrigued... as does the lock box.



Cheers

DW

"Promise me you'll never be linear." "On my trout."

[doofus68uk]

Once again, a gratifying read.

I especially appreciate how you have fleshed out Tara's family and past - very plausable. It's interesting to witness the dynamics and events that shaped her.

Looking forward to reading more. (Trying not to worry about the contents of that box and those dreams).

[stereo33]

Excellent updates yet again Mary, sorry my reply is late (ish)



Part 9 - I liked everything about the whole scooby exchange when discussing the Dawn/Key issue, especially when they were trading in the worst moment speeches I must say I have to agree with Tara and the whole gentlemen opening the door with a heart moment, which was definitely pretty gross. I also liked how it seems so right for Tara to be able to comfort Buffy, and for Tara having the ability (when Buffy questioned her about her own mother) to talk about it & still put Buffy at ease and not make her feel uncomfortable for having asked in the first place.



Part 10 was great too with Willow getting more of an insight into what it was like for Tara at home, extra points to Willow for resisting the urge to speak in order to let Tara get as much out as possible. However, the facts remain - Donnie is becoming even more disturbing - I am still worried about this damn box, and now I'm worried about the dream too!



Looking forward to more



Thanks Karen

[Sister Bertrille]

I know what’s in the box – Nathan’s balls! Better be careful, Donnie, or Willow’ll put yours in there too – with room to spare!



Do you remember Goofus and Gallant from Highlights magazine? You know, “Gallant puts down the whip when his partner calls the safe word; Goofus loses the keys to the handcuffs.” They came to mind as I was considering the two families you present here (and I am deliberately not using quotes around family, although I probably could…for the Maclays.) For not only are the Scoobies and the Maclays very, very different, they are coming to seem diametrically opposed, emotionally. I am beginning to wonder if they are capable of communicating with each other on anything but a purely physical, violent level, so mutually unintelligible are their words and motivations. Only Beth (“Keep your friends close, and keep your enemies closer”) and Willow (“I’ll hurt him first if I have to”) appear to have achieved a very odd emotional rapprochement here.



Tara: can a person be too nice, too forgiving? I wonder.

Quote:

---

“Actually, that’s about the only thing he didn’t do, Willow. I guess he gets points for that.”



“Tara, you’re the gentlest person I’ve ever known.”

---

We are pretty sure that she would not tolerate anyone hurting Willow the way Donnie hurt (and intends to hurt?) her, so why does she tolerate it for herself? I know, issues. I am quite worried for her, and that’s some good writin’!



I am still neutral on Mrs. Maclay. Yes, she is loving toward Tara, but both her children routinely had the unholy crap kicked out of them, and a parent is supposed to stop that.



And I loved Buffy’s dream!



SB

[mollyig]

I've been catching up on the last few updates, and have been alternatively chilled by continued evidence of Donnie's cruel nature, and warmed by the absolute devotion between our girls.



The scenario where Buffy confides in Willow, Tara and the others about Dawn is a lovely one, showing the trust of true friends.



I like how you've portrayed Beth; thinking of her reaction at the end of Family, I feel this is quite credible.



Thanks so much for this fine story. Looking forward to more from you.

I could paint you in the dark, 'cause I've studied you with hunger like a work of art
Indigo Girls

[AntigoneUnbound]

Hey Kittens~~ Wanted to respond to more of your incredible feedback. I’d genuflect in your collective direction, but my knees are acting up from too much athletic devotion.



Nora (aka my bitch): OK, so I just cracked up quite happily when I read your "signature." I promise that I’ll always treat you well, OK? I am very much of your mindset in liking my protagonists to be human, which includes having some uncomfortable faults and mistakes. (I think it was George Bernard Shaw who said, "If you’re going to have skeletons in your closet, you might as well make them dance," or something to that effect.) You’re right: Tara can’t be perfect, because (a) no one is, and (b) she’d be dull as toast, at least to me. Of course, if there were such a thing as "Tara-flavored sin," I’d be racing to the store right now to buy some in bulk. Mmm… I’m glad you like the past perspectives. Let me know if they get confusing, OK? I’m trying to use them to flesh out characters and their motivation, but I know that such devices can get unwieldy. Thanks, Nora, for your great feedback. Your ho’—Mary.



Vicki: I hate to have to break this to you, Vick (oh my God, I’m STILL playing with your name!), but I think there’s a bit of a psychologist in you! You’re way too facile with emotional dynamics! Don’t worry—I’ll talk you through it…See, you’re dead-on in your speculations re: Nathan: he tries to maintain control through rigidity, and he does see emotions (esp. of the expressed kind) as weakness. He loves his wife, but isn’t entirely (or perhaps remotely) comfortable with that fact. Why? [Vicki frowned slightly; wasn’t it Mary’s job to say why? Did Mary know? Who was writing this story, anyway?] You also capture what I see as one of the most critical questions in this story: what keeps Nathan from fully embracing Tara? You raise some good possibilities in that area. I hope you like where I take it. And I’m glad you like the Scooby banter—it’s just a lot of fun to write. It helps knowing that the dialogue has a ring of truth to it. As ever, Vicki, your feedback kicks creative ass! Thanks!



Mix: Hey, eloquence can be over-rated; it’s certainly no substitute for genuine emotion. I really appreciate your taking the time to give feedback, in whatever form it takes. It truly helps to know that the writing "hits" you, because I’m definitely more of an emotional writer than an action-based one. So thanks, Mix, for reading and sending in the good thoughts. Hope you like the rest of the story.



Stef: Glad you like the update! Thanks for writing.



DarkWiccan: Ah, I’ve intrigued you—my plan from the beginning! [Mary gives what, for her, approximates an evil laugh.] I hope you like where I take these various elements. So I have to ask: What does your signature refer to? Linear trout? I find myself intrigued…Oh—thanks for the info re: the Kitten convention. God, I wish I could be there…I especially loved your parenthetical reference to many, many bras being thrown into the air with loud huzzahs. Since I can’t travel all the way from PA, I figure I’ll just be a part of the festivities in my own, limited way by standing on my front porch and throwing my own bra into the air. Won’t have the same effect, obviously, but the passing motorists will have to be sorry substitutes for my much-preferred Kittens. Anyway, thanks for writing, DW! Your support feels great.



Doofus68uk I’m glad you like the ghosts of Tara’s past, and you’re right about the intended purpose: to shape who she is now, and how she became that person. Don’t worry about the box—it just has some old rubber bands and postage stamps in it…OK, not really. Thanks for reading this story and taking the time to write.



Karen: Hey, no sweat on the timing of the response; just glad you gave one. I like hearing your reactions. Yeah, the "worst moment" exchange was fun to write, and to think back over the various candidates for each person’s final choice. Oh, god, yeah—the Gentleman opening the door, heart in hand…Yikes! The section with T/W talking about Tara’s past was an interesting one to write, because I think I’m depicting Willow as too perfect in her responses. I mean, her intention is certainly beyond doubt but this is new territory for her and I’m not making her terribly human in the sense of letting her struggle to find the words. Not sure what I want to do w/ that…Thanks for keeping up with the story, Karen.



SisterBertrille: OK, so thanks a whole helluva lot for ruining the grand denouement of the box. Yes, it’s a miniature storage facility for gonads. Why should I even bother writing the rest of the story? You know, I must have read a different "Highlights" than you did, SB. (I had the one with all the partner swapping.) You raise an excellent question, though, re: future communication b/w the two families: can it happen? Should it? How will that play out in future encounters? Why doesn’t Giles get some contacts or maybe laser surgery so he can stop wiping those damn glasses all the time? These are questions that plague us all in these troubled times…Can someone be too nice? See, I don’t think Tara does tolerate it for herself anymore, now that she has some real volition and choice in the matter. And I agree that a parent is supposed to protect her/his children, but I think that abusive people (including siblings) can be ingenious in making sure that the ostensible protector is never aware of the situation. Buffy’s dream? Ah, who of us haven’t dreamt of bimbos in high heels, pounding on our doors…Thanks for following the story, SB, and for writing such thoughtful and always enjoyable feedback.



Mollyig: Actually, I’m glad to hear of the alternately chilling and warming effects. You know, a lot of people mentioned being glad that Buffy talked to everyone immediately after learning about Dawn, for the very reasons you cited. I think a lot of us have been unimpressed or bewildered by her tendency in the last couple of seasons to go all "Lone Ranger" at the most imprudent times. I’m glad you like Beth’s depiction, too, because I want her to act as a mirror of sorts, reflecting on the Maclay dynamic from the perspective of someone who IS an outsider but who also has some family angst of her own (that’s connected to the Maclays) that has shaped her. Thanks a lot for reading, Mollyig, and for taking the time to respond.



OK, that’s all for now. I’ll post another update tomorrow (Tuesday) night. I’m hoping to bump up to two-a-week updates soon, but I won’t do that until I’m sure that I can do it effectively. Thanks for reading, folks.

[Imperfectly Me]

Hi, I just wanted to stop and say I love your work. I read all of On Second Thought and all thus far od Gods Served and Abandoned today and they're excellent. Keep em comin!

Who were you then? And who are you now? That you think you can figure it all out, the mathematics of regret. It takes two beers to remember now, and five more to forget. That I love you so..what. Yeah I love you so..what.

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



There's so much here that puts the original in the dust. Willow's protective and possessive streaks are deeper. Dawn having a crush on Tara and Tara being blind to it makes sense. Buffy trusting her friends, needing their advice and asking for it. Anya using Willow's kissing technique as a guide for Xander. The way Tara trusted the Scoobies with the information that Donnie was in town and the way they responded. They're a strange family mix, but family none the less.



Then there's Donnie. A great villian, almost the perfect opposite not just of Tara but of all the Scoobies. And still with your talent we can almost see the frightened child he was and wonder what could have turned him into this. Pity, anger and disgust give way to a realization he is a danger in a time when danger is growing all around the Scoobies.



Even contrasted with Xander's drunken parents the Maclays come across as broken people with jagged edges. I can almost forgive Xander's cluelessly boorish behavior. His standing up for Tara spoke more than his clumsy words could ever say. Perhaps his friends Willow and Jesse saved him from a similar fate or worse, something the isolated farm did not hold for Donnie.



For some reason I doubt very much Donnie will ever forgive Xander, and I'm sure paying back Xander would be a bonus. Not that you thought of that, of course.



I understand about the feedback. The Kittens do a better, kinder job of giving all variations of feedback than any other place I've seen.



Thank you for this work. Sorry I took so long to get here.



Jixer

Edited by: jixer at: 2/10/03 11:26:04 pm

[AntigoneUnbound]

Just two final responses, and then I'm posting Part 11.



>>ImperfectlyMe: What great feedback! Thanks so much for reading this story. I hope you like where it goes.



>>Jixer: Hey, nice to see you! You make some very good points about Donnie's character and his villainy. I like your comparison to Xander, and how the presence of strong, supportive people in his life may well have tempered the impact of his boorish, dysfunctional parents. Did Donnie not have anyone like that? Why is he this way? I'm glad he has some degree of humanity for you; I think that makes him more interesting. Thanks for reading and for taking the time to write such thoughtful ideas.



OK--Part 11 coming up.



Mary

[AntigoneUnbound]

Gods Served and Abandoned

Disclaimers:
I don’t own any of these folks; indeed, can anyone truly "own" anyone else? I think perhaps not…

Spoilers:
Up to season 5. I’ve played slightly with the timing of a certain Big Bad’s appearance, with some implications for Dawn’s entrance.

Rating:
R for now; if it changes, I’ll give heads-up.

Distribution:
Sure, with acknowledgement.

Feedback:
Even more sure! Bring it on!


*****
Part 11
*****


Willow glanced around the Magic Box. All in all, she thought, they were doing a serviceable job of acting normal around Dawn; which is to say, Xander was trying to be funny, Willow was being bright and perky, Tara was asking Dawn about school and actually listening to the answers, and Anya was being nice.

Oh, shit!

This was no good at all. Dawn would surely realize that something catastrophic was afoot. Stealing a glance at Xander, Willow could see that he was too immersed in his attempts to catch Dawn’s attention to notice Anya’s behavior. (Dawn, Willow noticed, was too immersed in Tara to notice Xander’s behavior.)

So it’s up to me to explain to Anya why sometimes she shouldn’t be that nice. And then maybe I’ll attempt to reverse the earth’s rotation.

Sighing, she walked over to the counter, just as Anya was asking Dawn if she’d care for a soda from the fridge—free of charge. Dawn looked up, eyebrows shooting north to disappear into her hairline.

"Um…sure, thanks," Dawn replied hesitantly, looking perplexed.

Perplexed. She’s perplexed. Next comes nonplussed and then disconcerted and after that it’s only a matter of time until—bam!—full-blown suspicion.

Willow waited until Anya returned with a Diet Coke and handed it to Dawn. "Could I talk to you for a minute? It’s about the ledgers," she added, hoping that she sounded convincing. From under the counter, she grabbed a hefty book that looked as if it might pertain to money, and pulled Anya back toward the training room.

"What’s up?" Anya demanded, the bright light of capitalism burning fiercely in her eyes.

"Um, OK—it’s not really about the store’s money," she began, trying to ignore the immediate halving of Anya’s attention. "It’s about Dawn; the way you’re acting around her."

"What do you mean?" Anya’s voice squealed off the track. "I’m being as nice to her as I can possibly be!"

"I know. And that’s sort of the problem. See, we’re all supposed to be acting normal around her, behaving like we always do. And you’re not usually…" she trailed off, hoping Anya would help her out.

Anya didn’t.

"Nice," she finished, flinching. She hastened on. "I mean, you’re always funny and honest and you shoot straight from the hip, sometimes more literally than we might prefer, but you don’t really specialize in the motherly nurturing behaviors."

To her relief, Anya didn’t seem offended. "You’re saying that she might think something’s up if I act differently around her," she mused.

"Right! You got it."

"That makes sense. OK, it’s back to business as usual." She turned and headed back toward the others.

"Thanks," Willow said to Anya’s back, emerging into the front room just in time to watch Anya yank the Diet Coke out of Dawn’s hand.

"Hey!"

"My mistake. I thought I was feeling generous, but it was just gas. That’ll be a buck, missy."

"And people say teenagers are unpredictable," Dawn grumbled, digging into her jeans to find some cash.

Willow returned to her seat to find Tara looking at her with a wry smile. She knows exactly what that was all about. Nothing gets by her.

"So anyway," Dawn continued, tugging gently on Tara’s arm, "Janice tries to say that magic isn’t real and I tell her she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I mean, you can do all sorts of neat things, Tara…"

Should be happening any minute now…

"…like, really special things that most people just can’t understand…"

I’m guessing in…five, four, three…

"…and I’d love you to teach me…"

…two …

"…one on one, maybe?" And here Dawn blushed a flaming, glorious scarlet.

Roger, Houston, we have facial blast-off.

Willow looked up as Buffy entered the store, eyes scanning the room until they rested on Dawn. They didn’t linger there, but Willow could read the quick relief that flashed across Buffy’s face.

"Any news on the Glory front?" Xander asked.

"It’s more like a big Glory hole," Buffy muttered, then caught herself and looked around at the others, all of whom (except for Dawn) had caught her as well.

They even blush the same color. How can they not be sisters?

"I think glory holes are supposed to be a little more rewarding to plunge yourself into than this," Anya inserted, under her breath.

Dawn looked around suspiciously. "What? What sexual innuendo just happened that I don’t know about?"

Buffy’s hasty "It’s nothing" competed with Anya’s "I’ll tell you later." Dawn sighed the grand, much put-upon sigh of a teenager and somehow managed to make slumping back in her chair very much resemble flouncing.

"So," Buffy said loudly. "Getting back to Glory…Will, remember the mental patient we ran into the other day at the hospital, when we were taking Mom for some tests?"

Willow grimaced. "How could I forget? He scared us all to death."

"Especially me," Dawn joined in. "Remember how he kept pointing at me and saying I didn’t belong?"

There was a brief and uncomfortable silence while the experienced demon fighters struggled for something to say to the girl in front of them.

"That must have been so weird." Tara’s voice was soft. "It totally would’ve scared me."

Dawn looked at Tara, opening her mouth to speak and then shutting it quickly.

She doesn’t know whether to take the comfort or try to act brave.

Finally, Dawn shrugged her shoulders slightly and looked down at the floor. "Yeah—it pretty much freaked me out."

"Yeah, well, check this out." So saying, Tara leaned forward and whispered something in Dawn’s ear. A huge grin broke out over the teenager’s face a moment later.

"No way! Really? OK, now I don’t feel so bad!"

"Care to share?" Xander asked, with no small measure of curiosity.

Tara just looked at Dawn and smiled. "Oh, I think we’ll keep it between the two of us for right now." From that moment on, Willow realized, the conversation could concern anything in the world and Dawn would be fine with it because now she knew something private about Tara. Tara had entrusted her with a secret. What were mental patients and uncomfortable silences compared to that?

Willow caught Buffy’s look of gratitude and then the Slayer continued. "Well, Ben told us that this guy had no history of mental problems; he also said that a lot of people had been checking into the Boo Radley Motor Lodge lately—none of whom had a mental illness history."

"Right. So?" Willow wasn’t sure why the mental health climate in Sunnydale, long cloudy but never a subject of discussion before, should suddenly be an issue.

"Well, Giles found out that Glory is basically feeding off of people’s minds. Somehow, she extracts their sanity. She needs it to keep from going completely bat-shit herself."

"I notice you say ‘completely,’" Xander interjected. "Does this mean that Glory is never all that far from, shall we say, a liberal interpretation of reality?"

"Pretty much," Buffy nodded.

"So she takes people’s minds," Tara said, so low that Willow barely heard her. Turning, she took Tara’s hand in her own.

"Don’t worry, Baby. We’ll figure out a way to stop her." Willow tried to give her an encouraging smile, but the fear in Tara’s eyes left her adrift in the effort.

"Nothing…nothing physical could match that," Tara murmured, more to herself than aloud.

"Hey, where is Giles?" Xander asked.

"He stopped back at his place to get some old manuscript that he thinks might have some useful info," Buffy replied. "Probably smells like the inside of a tomb," she added.

"Yeah, it was so rude of the ancient sages and scribes not to spritz a little rose water on the pages," Willow noted absently. She could still feel Tara’s fear radiating through her touch.

We’ve faced scarier stuff than this before. Why does this have her so spooked?


*****

Later that night, Willow sat curled up in the welcoming curve of Tara’s arms, watching a History channel special on the evolution of Judeo-Christian religious traditions. "Now there’s a nice, tidy little subject," Willow mused. "So easy to sum up in an hour."

Tara leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "That’s why they’re devoting an entire week to it, Sweetie."

"Oh, well, an entire week…That should make everything abundantly clear." She shifted slightly and looked up at Tara. "You grew up going to church, didn’t you?" She saw the quick shadow that passed over Tara’s eyes whenever her past came into the present.

"Oh, yes. We definitely went to church…every Sunday morning, and either Sunday evening Bible study or Wednesday night prayer meeting." Her mouth twisted with the memory.

"Wow—twice a week. That’s, like, very pew-intensive. Were you really that religious?" Willow’s own history with the synagogue was a far more casual affair.

"Don’t confuse religion with spirituality, Will. My father was definitely the former, not so much the latter." Again Tara frowned slightly.

"What about your mom? Was she into it?" Willow’s curiosity about Tara’s family continued to poke at her, nudging her onward to put this picture together somehow.

"Mom was what I’d call spiritual, but she went to church to keep the peace."

"So what church did you go to?"

"In Cold Springs? Nothing but Baptist will do, thank you very much." Tara’s laugh conveyed very little in the way of humor.

"So what was it like?" Willow knew that Tara didn’t like talking about her past, and yet it felt so incongruous to her, knowing such limited glimpses of Tara’s history. They were so synchronized, it seemed, in everything else; each knew the other to the bone. And then there were the first eighteen years of Tara’s life, that Willow was left to fit together like a puzzle whose pieces came to light only fleetingly.

"What was it like…"Tara murmured. "Let’s see—lots of hellfire and damnation; lots of very loud, spit-flecked denunciations of the human soul. Only one way to salvation; submit your will to the Lord’s; take a pass on pretty much everything that brings you joy; and then finally one day you get the immense pleasure of looking down on all the pagans roasting in the eternal flames of hell. I think that pretty much sums it up." She looked down at Willow with a wry smile.

Willow’s answering grin was a very feeble one. "That fun, huh?"

"Oh, yeah…And yet, can you believe it—I didn’t find it spiritually nourishing? No, for that I looked to Wicca, to that frame of spirituality. I actually thought that Jesus was a remarkable person—very loving, very open. But the idea of one door into paradise? That only a few people had the inside track on? Definitely didn’t fit for me."

Willow puzzled over this family religious structure for a moment. "But didn’t your dad get kinda, you know—testy about the Wiccan part? I mean, he couldn’t have been too thrilled with the whole non-patriarchy deal."

"That’s putting it mildly," Tara replied with a grin. "He was always after Mom to give it up, denounce it, say that there was only one god. He wanted her to get baptized; like, head-under-the-water baptized." Her smile faded. "He said it would cleanse the demon from her soul."

Willow sat up and faced Tara, taking her hands in her own. "Baby, do you think your mother really believed that she had demon in her? That just seems so…so contrary to how you describe her."

Tara remained silent for several moments. When she spoke, her voice was low and filled with pain. "I don’t know, Willow. I’ve asked myself that so many times since my birthday. I mean, if she knew that the demon tale was just a scare tactic, why wouldn’t she tell me? And if she did think she was part demon, why did she keep practicing magic?" Tara shook her head, blond hair falling over her face.

Willow touched her cheek lightly. "But Baby, you were going to keep practicing magic. I mean, you did practice it…" She didn’t finish the sentence, though both of them knew what she was referring to. But Willow didn’t want this to turn into a discussion of Tara’s decision that night. Tara had already apologized; that conversation was past. "I don’t think it’s that black and white, do you?"

"Even when I believed I had demon in me, I didn’t think the magic was bad," Tara replied, biting on her lower lip. "I thought the magic might protect me from the demon,"

Willow nodded. "So maybe your mom thought along the same lines you did."

Silence fell over them as they considered all of this. Willow looked at Tara with concern. Tara had always described her mother as so loving, so protective—yet if she did know that there was no demon in either of them, how could she have kept this knowledge from her beloved daughter? Or had Tara’s mother gone to her grave thinking that she was, in fact, part demon—prone to evil and corruption? Had she died thinking the same of Tara?

This painful conversation was interrupted by the harsh ring of the telephone.

"I wonder if that’s Buffy," Tara mused, untangling herself reluctantly from Willow’s arms and legs to retrieve the phone. Willow hid a tiny smile. She knew that Tara was a very private person and not all that fond of the telephone, with its potential intrusion by any number of unwelcome personages. Since signing up for the Scooby life, however, she had little choice but to answer the phone. She didn’t have Caller ID, and she hated answering the phone ready to do battle with the forces of darkness only to be asked if she was happy with her long-distance calling plan.

"Hello?" she asked with measured politeness.

One look at Tara’s face told Willow that this was neither stirring call to duty nor irritating phone sales.

"Cousin Beth?"

Willow felt her eyes bug out, and quickly regained her outward composure because she suspected that this was not such a good look for her. But she was still stunned. She found herself wishing desperately that there was another phone in the room. When Tara motioned for her to come and listen in, she bounded over eagerly, putting her ear up to the shared receiver.

"Hi, Tara. I bet you’re surprised to hear from me." Beth’s tone was faintly wheedling.

"Um, actually, I’d be surprised to hear from Madonna. I’m shocked to hear from you, Beth." Tara looked at Willow, who silently mouthed, "What the heck does Ellie Mae want?" Though to be fair, Willow acknowledged, the girl on the Beverly Hillbillies had been considerably more buxom and a lot more fun.

"I know we didn’t part under the best of circumstances, Tara," Beth was saying in her saccharine voice. "That’s why I called."

"Beth, you called me a selfish bitch," Tara reminded her. Willow raised her eyebrows at this. She called my girl a bitch? OK, she’s toast. "Was some there other insult you forgot?"

"Now, Tara, don’t harden your heart against me, or any of us. You know that’s not what Paul would want you to do."

"Who’s Paul?" Willow mouthed. Placing her hand briefly over the speaker, Tara answered hastily, "Apostle Paul. Hated people like us."

So the girl’s on a first-name basis with the original Christian Right? Figures.

Returning her attention to her cousin, Tara replied, "Frankly, Beth, I haven’t spoken with Paul lately. I don’t usually consult him about my decisions." Willow was amazed at Tara’s bluntness, and the utter confidence with which she delivered it.

"Well, maybe you should," Beth said solemnly. As Tara began to argue, however, Beth changed her tone. "Oh, Tara—that’s not why I called. I don’t want us to fight."

"Beth, those last two sentences don’t really go together. It seems to me that if you call, we’re going to fight." Willow could see Tara struggling to keep her anger in check.

"But we shouldn’t. Tara, we’re family." Willow knew that that had made its way into Tara’s heart, as much as her beloved didn’t want it to. She remembered their conversation last night: "It’s just so sad…We were supposed to be a family."

Her heart ached for Tara as she watched her blink back tears. "No, Beth, we’re blood kin, just like Daddy said. That doesn’t make us a family, not the way I define the word."

There was a brief pause, and then Beth spoke again, her voice full of conciliation. "Tara, I didn’t call to give you a hard time. I just want you to know that I’ll back you up whatever you decide to do."

Willow felt the earth tilt on its axis, and glanced at Tara to make sure she didn’t fall over. Tara was looking at the phone as if it had suddenly grown flippers and snatched a fish out of her hand. "What did you say?" she finally managed.

"Tara, you’re a grown woman and I may not approve of your…choices, but they’re yours to make."

Tara drew in a deep breath, and then said, "Beth, I’m…I don’t know what to say. I mean, I’m glad to hear it, but I never would have expected it."

Beth jumped into the half-opening that Tara had given her. "I know you’re surprised, Tara. I’ve just done a lot of thinking since we left, and it seems to me that if you really feel like you belong there at school, then that’s where you should be. Especially now that you don’t have to worry about the demon," she added.

"Beth, did you know? That the demon story was a lie?" Tara asked, a sense of urgency in her voice.

"No," came the quick reply. "I was as shocked as you were." After a moment, she went on. "That was sort of what sealed it for me. Once I realized that there was no danger in you staying at college, well, it just seemed wrong to say you couldn’t live your own life."

A frown stealing over her face, Tara asked suddenly, "Beth, what about Donnie? He’s down here, I know you know that. He said that you all decided he should come."

Beth laughed, a not-altogether authentic sound. "Tara, you know Donnie. Once he decides how things should be, there’s no changing his mind." Willow watched the pain roll over Tara’s face, and felt her own darken in response. I’ll change his mind, the little prick.

"He just got it in his head that he should give it one last try," Beth was continuing. "And Uncle Nathan…" Here her voice faltered.

"What? What about Daddy? Is he OK?" Willow could hear the fear in Tara’s voice. He may not have been much of a father, but Willow knew that Tara still loved him; she always would.

"Oh, no—he’s fine, Tara," Beth hastened to assure her. "He’s just—he just hasn’t completely accepted that you’re an adult now. He still thinks he knows what’s best for you."

"Beth, is Daddy thinking that Donnie can really bring me back?" Willow noticed Tara’s fingers clenching reflexively over the receiver.

There was a brief pause, and then Beth replied slowly. "I don’t know, Tara. I think Donnie sort of played on Uncle Nathan’s fears; you know, about you being away at school. But I know that in time Uncle Nathan will realize that you can decide where you belong and what you want to do."

"I hope so," Tara said sadly, her voice almost inaudible.

"Well, that’s really all I wanted, Tara. Just to tell you that I know you’re happy at school and I think you can decide where you want to be."

Tara drew a shaky breath. "Well, Beth, if anybody would have told me ten minutes ago that I’d be saying this, I’d have passed dead away, but—thank you. Thanks for thinking about this, and for having the courage to call me and tell me."

"You’re welcome, Tara. We all have to figure out where we belong, don’t we?"

Tara laughed quietly. "Yeah, I guess that’s half the battle…Thanks, Beth. Really."

"You’re welcome. Take care, Tara."

As she hung up the phone, Tara turned to Willow. "OK, who was that and what did she do with my cousin?"

"I don’t know, Baby, but it looks like you have one less Maclay trying to lasso you and drag you back home." Willow nuzzled happily into Tara’s neck, kissing the smooth flesh.

"Well, it sounds like she doesn’t agree with Donnie coming down here, at least not anymore. And Donnie…maybe he’ll give up and head home. He hasn’t tried to contact me again; maybe he’s just using this as an excuse to get away from the farm himself."

Burrowing deeper into Tara’s arms, Willow only nodded. Please let her be right. We have enough battles to fight right now.


*****

Returning the phone to its cradle, Beth checked once more that her uncle still hadn’t come in from the barn. "Now, as long as Donnie doesn’t find out. There’s no need for him to know," she reassured herself as she made her way up the stairs. "If I don’t look out for myself, who will? And Uncle Nathan will come around after awhile." Walking down the long hallway, she caught sight of Tara’s high school graduation picture hanging on the wall. Her long blond hair flowed smoothly over her shoulders; Tara’s blue eyes seemed shy, and her smile was tentative. Beth looked at the picture for a long time, taking in all of Tara’s features. "You don’t know how lucky you had it," she finally muttered, pulling away at last and heading into her room.

*****

To Be Continued



Edited by: AntigoneUnbound at: 2/11/03 9:34:21 pm

[The Rose24]

Okay, this is getting curiouser and curiouser. What is Beth up to? This story is making me crazy.

Tara: My heart doesn't stutter.


Tara: Willow, I got so lost.

Willow: I found you. I will always find you.

[Patches]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! Oh my god that was such a pleasure to read!! – [FOFL, ROFL, picking myself up and FOFL again]. The interplay between the characters, especially Dawn and Anya brought tears of laughter to my eyes. And Willow, between her internal and external dialogue – hahahahahaha!! Mary, you’re amazingly funny! Everything was great. I enjoyed that whole interplay very much.



Had a couple of other thoughts, the role of the “demon” in the Maclay house is nicely written. You know, demons are interesting things; they exist in metaphor and in reality. Tara’s discussion with Cos Beth would seem to indicate she’s exorcised most of hers, (but does anyone really recover from Hellfire and Brimstone Baptists? – I seriously doubt it lol) I’m still suspicious of Beth, her actions and motivations – a leopard doesn’t change its spots. My only conclusion is Beth figured out that as long as Tara’s not around, she will get to play lady of the house for Uncle Nathan and Cos Donnie.



Through this whole thing, you have me wondering (speculating) about just what kind of “kin” Beth and Tara really are, whatever did happen to Beth’s father, and what might Nathan Maclay’s box have to do with it all. Hmmm.



Brilliant story Mary!



And regarding your little quip (can we say – HaHaHaHaHa!- okay, it was funny, mean, but funny.)



Thanks for the story, and the great update.



Cheers!!

Patches



ETA: If you're curious, my first chapter is up.

You know I've heard about people like me. But I never made the connection. They walk one road to set them free, And find they've gone the wrong direction. But there's no need for turning back 'cause all roads lead to where I stand. And I believe I'll walk them all No matter what I may have planned

Edited by: Patches at: 2/12/03 8:45:50 am

[deixs]

Great update!



I don`t think that Beth has something bad on her mind. I think she realized that Tara is an adult and can make her own decisions.

I still wonder what Donnie is up to.





Stef

Willow: Hey, clothes!

Tara: Better not get used to 'em.

Willow: Yes ma'm

[hush30]

Ooh very interesting update Looks like cousin Beth is looking after her own interests here and would prefer to remain the only woman in the Maclay household. Can't believe she would make such a huge turn around over night without there being an alterior motive.

Quote:

---

Perplexed. She’s perplexed. Next comes nonplussed and then disconcerted and after that it’s only a matter of time until—bam!—full-blown suspicion.

---

So that's the order that happens in, I've often wondered about that Great descriptions here.

I love how you write Tara as being so clued in and that she knew exactly Willow had done something about Anya's incongruent behaviour. Anya just slipped so easily back into her role (gotta love her bluntness).

I wonder where the little prick (as Willow so lovingly refers to Donnie as) is and what he's planning? No doubt up to no good.

"I think this line's mostly filler" - Willow in OMWF

"I'm not really much for the timber" - Tara

[VampNo12]

Oh Mary, I just so love your characterization (it's truly spot on), which is wonderfully displayed in how well you capture the scooby dynamic through their interactions. And I must say you captured the workings of Willow's inner-mind perfectly with the lines, ("Perplexed. She's perplexed. Next comes nonplussed and then disconcerted and after that it's a matter of time until-bam!-full blown suspicion."). Really I just loved Willow trying to divert trouble (ie stop Dawn from realizing the gang is keeping something from her) in the form of Anya acting not herself (ie being "nice"). Thus, if there is one way to get Anya's attention in order to speak to her alone, talk in terms that makes her heart "flutter", commerce (and I liked how Willow tried to make Anya understand by saying, "I mean, you're always funny and honest and you shoot straight from the hip, sometimes more literally than we might prefer, but you don't really specialize in motherly nurturing behaviors.", ). Also got a kick out of Willow's observations of Dawn's crush on Tara (especially her count-down to "facial blast-off").



What also speaks to me is the way you mix humor amongst the angst. Not only does the story flow beautifully, but the humor provides an "outlet" where the "darkness" isn't all consuming (ie the banter/humor adds touches of "light", sense of hope as well as fun, which is the direct opposite of what a certain tv show wallows in utter despair).



Now on to the character study of cousin Beth, which again I must say she reminds me of a "snake in the grass". She still exudes piety (Willow saying, "So the girl's on a first name basis with the original Christian Right."), but when it appears a fight is on the horizon (which she will not recover from) she changes tactics (ie saying, "It's just so sad.... We were supposed to be a family."). Thus, she is manipulative enough to realize she needs a new way to deliver her message, find a more conducive "opening", and what better way to get to the "heart of the matter" than to speak to Tara's heart in the form of "family". Also loved how Tara makes the point that they are "blood kin", but for all intents and purposes her family is chosen, the scoobies (ie a "family" isn't defined by blood, the ties she has with Willow/gang are more meaningful).



Lastly, I find Beth has her own agenda, and I think what I found quite illuminating in this regard was her saying, ("We all have to figure out where we belong, don't we?"). I see Beth as "lost" the sense she doesn't feel like she belongs, and Nathan provides Beth with the stability she lacks in her own so-called family. Thus, I see Beth as manipulative as Donnie, but her methods are more benign. And yes, she did go reluctantly along with Donnie's plan (ie retrieving the locked box), but I feel she is "back-peddling" for two reasons: 1) I generally believe she regrets being talked into helping Donnie in something deep down knows is nefarious, and 2) She fears that Donnie might actually find a way to bring Tara back to the farm, which would negate her dream to fill Tara's place as the favorite daughter in the Maclay house-hold. With this in mind, I have a feeling that Beth's call to Tara was her "preemptive strike". Or in other words, Beth giving a "rah rah" speech to Tara (being her cheerleader), in a sense building up Tara's confidence (strength) to stick to her beliefs that her place is in Sunnydale and not back home (which allows Beth to maintain and secure her position with Nathan). So Beth is being kind/understanding when it comes to Tara, but her reasons are selfish, she is looking out for "number 1" (herself). Can't wait to see what happens next!



By the way I really get a kick out you playing with my name (whether it being Vicki or Vamp), so continue to play away ! As for your comment about there "might be a bit of psychologist in you", I must admit I have always been fascinated in what makes people "tick". Before I choose law, I considered being a child psychologist, or I had a dream of being a profiler for the FBI, (I ended up taking quite a few psych courses). However, I figured I could "feed" my fascination with trying to understand the criminal mind, while at the same time going for a law degree (in the end I plan on focusing on criminal law by hopefully being a prosecutor). And here ends my rambling of Vicki's career path discussion for the day



Edited to add I'm also intrigued about their "demon" discussion, and I look forward to finding out just how much Tara's mother knew, and how this information effects how we "see" Mrs. Maclay in her dealings with her children.



Vicki

Edited by: VampNo12  at: 2/12/03 12:42:43 pm

[darkmagicwillow]

Your Scoobie interactions in the first scene are great as always, from Willow's thoughts on the transformation from perplexed to suspicious to Tara's gentle handling of Dawn's crush and fears. But why is Tara so spooked about insanity? More Maclay family secrets.



You're killing me with all these little pieces of Tara's past. And just when we're getting to the good parts, Beth calls and interrupts. Grrr...



Both girls have a strong need to be loved, springing from their differently disfunctional families, that each tries to hide from the world. Tara's is focused on the actuality of family, as she did experience the strong love of her mother for her (making Willow's thoughts about Tara's mother thinking she was a demon so poignant), while Willow is focused on finding the approval and love she needed outside the family where she never received it. The events with Tara's family have brought Tara's need to the surface, but Willow's need remains hidden, shown only by her intense need to protect Tara, the source of the love she needs. Will Tara see that before it goes too far, as it did with Glory in Tough Love and in s6.

--

"Omnia mutantur, nihil interit." -- "Everything changes, but nothing is truly lost."

Edited by: darkmagicwillow at: 2/12/03 6:41:16 am

[Grimaldi]

great update



i liked the scene in the Magic Box, it was pretty funny how Anya went from being super nice back to her normal self in the blink of an eye.



i wonder what Beth is up to?

You can't just go declaring shenanigans on innocent people, that's how wars get started!
I'm not stealing, I'm just taking things without paying for them. In what twisted dictionary is that stealing?
Did you just say the 'F' word?

[JustSkipIt]

Mary,

As always totally brilliant writing. I love the dialog and characterizations of the entire first section: the scoobie section. Particularly Willow's thought process. And I find it amusing that she seems to border between amused and jealous of Dawn's fixation on Tara. But she is being pretty adult about it.



But here's what I really love: at first with Beth's phone call I thought "what is she up to?" but then I realized that she is being "genuinely" nice because she wants Tara's place (as we knew before). But here's what's creepy about that: it's not genuine to be nice just to get what you want. She may have decided to be nice to Tara and really support her decision(s) but that doesn't mean she's making nice choices herself.



And what I find interesting is the relationship between that action and Anya's. In a way, they are both doing the same thing only Beth is more practiced and smooth and human about it. Anya is also being artificially nice because she thinks she "should" but because she's not that smooth, she gets caught and adjusted. But Beth can get away with it (or will she?) because she's human. And truly, isn't that part of human nature? To different extent we all do that: we all are nice or whatever we need to be to get what we want to need. Salesmen or laywers are a great example but to a lesser extent we all portray a "self" to get to eat what we want for dinner or ask out a pretty girl or get our child to eat his peas or whatever.



Finally, I like the way you kept something that has always kind stuck in my side from the show. When they first explained about Glory sucking brains, Tara is the one who has the corporal reaction to it. The one who is horrified and the show never explains any connection to it. It just left us to assume that either 1. she had precognitive powers or 2. whatever our greatest fear is, it will be visited upon us. I really like your shining a spotlight on it here.



Anyway, great post and great writing as always. Debra

---

"War may be a necessary evil. But no matter how necessary it is always evil." - President Jimmy Carter after receiving the Nobel Peace Prize

[tommo]

Ah, I'm loving the Scooby interaction. It's about time we had a halfway decent Anya in a fic, hee. I love her so much. I appreciate how Willow had to censor her own explanation somewhat so that Anya could understand without being offended. That's so like Willow, I guess; wanting to be fair. Even to Anya, I suppose.



The Tara/Dawn interaction cracks me up. It's funny how Tara indulges Dawn but at the same time doesn't encourage her. I think that in itself is a great exploration of the character and how amazing Tara is. Poor Dawn; she's so easy to read for Willow and Tara and her blushing is so sweet. Reminds me of my crushes on people I knew I'd never ever get. Sigh.



Oh, and "Glory hole". Yes. Hee. Again with the sighing.

It's in your eyes, I can tell what you're thinking; my heart is sinking too...It's no surprise, I've been watching you lately; I want to make it with you...

Edited by: tommo at: 2/12/03 10:30:05 am

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



Beth thinks Tara had it good and wants what she had. That her past would make her come to this conclusion is more terrifying than the way Donnie has found to cope with life. Mary, I think you have captured a level of horror in these two that is far too frightening for any network. I'm wondering other things about the Maclays, Tara's mother and Tara now. I won't speculate, just wait patiently. Really.



I really like Willow and Anya scene. Dawn's crush on Tara makes me remember that crush is too aptly named (she does have good taste in her current heart throb ). And your Buffy has moved beyond control freak girl. Not easily, but she's a more mature person who's able to reach for help.



Right now I'm glad I'm a reader. I loved Tolkien's LOTR but the movie just doesn't quite capture the majesty in my mind the printed page gave me. I don't even want to discuss Starship Troopers. But this fic and all the others I enjoy will always be gems of untarnished light. Thank you very much for this.





Jixer

[AntigoneUnbound]

Kittens: As ever, your thoughtful responses just blow me away. In fact, if you look out your window, you’ll see me there now. I’m heading east at approximately 10 knots an hour.



Lots of people had interesting observations re: Beth’s motivations and character. Take a look at Vicki’s (VampNo12) comments for an especially insightful read.



Thanks again, Kind Kittens, for your time.



Rose: I’m sorry, but I like that this is making you crazy! Not trying to be sadistic or anything; just wanna keep the interest there. Thanks for following this and not letting the craziness drive you away!



Patches: I’m so glad you enjoyed it so much! I love writing the humorous parts; they actually come more easily to me than the high-drama or intrigue parts. I completely agree with you re: the nature of demons. I grew up with evangelical Christianity and yes, it takes a while to get that off your skin. You raise a very good point about Beth’s motivation, and I like your speculations about the nature of kinship b/w Tara and Beth. The Maclays have their share of secrets, that’s for sure. Now, I have to ask: What was the little quip that was funny but mean? I hope it wasn’t really mean, as in, cruel. I never like that, especially if I’m the one who’s done it. Thanks for reading and taking the time to send such thoughtful comments, Patches. It’s always good to see your name on the thread.



Stef: It’s really interesting to see how people are interpreting Beth’s actions. Check out the variety of opinions. (I love the breadth of ideas on this board.) I plan on bringing Donnie to the forefront in the next update. Thanks for reading!



Karen: You and Vicki (below) have some similar ideas on Beth’s motivation for the phone call. You know, I actually checked with a dictionary to ensure that I had a good grip on those words and their place on the distress continuum. Such things bring me joy—that’s what a word geek I am! As I mentioned to Stef above, Donnie makes a big showing in the next update. Thanks for the ideas and the support, Karen. You always have good stuff to say.



Queen Victoria: Aha—I knew you had some shrink in you!! I can see it in your observations, this one most certainly included. (I actually thought about the profiling gig, too, but eventually decided that the constant immersion in the mind of evil would simply be too overwhelming to me. I have a hard enough time leaving my clients’ concerns and pain at the office; going into the mind of someone who perpetrates harm unto others…I just don’t think I could do it w/o going bat-shit, to quote Buffy.) You know, I just love writing the Scooby sections, and Willow is such a compelling mind to step into and report from. She makes a great narrator, I think, because she never misses anything. I’m really glad you like the humor/darkness blending. My own belief is that I only truly grasp the one when I have an abiding awareness of the other. It’s like the way that water tastes most incredibly delicious when you’re most thirsty.



So—your comments re: Beth…Wow, and let me reiterate, wow. Wanna meet up the minds somewhere over Kansas and write her together? You have a fantastic grasp of her, Vicki. You see her exactly as I do. She hasn’t had the weaponry in the past to launch frontal assaults (in contrast to Donnie), so she uses the resources she has: guile and artifice, cloaked in the pristine robes of Christian piety. She’s anxious about whatever Donnie’s up to, b/c she’s increasingly unsure whether Uncle Nathan’s gratitude will outweigh his anger upon learning that she basically stole something from him and gave it to Donnie in this clandestine exchange at the IGA. (And wouldn’t "A Clandestine Exchange at the IGA" be a great name for a short story, or perhaps a one-act play? The latter featuring Amber Benson, whom I would be more than happy to direct personally? But I digress.) You nailed the "pre-emptive strike" element on the head. She doesn’t want Tara to come back home, because, as you noted, she’s lost herself. This feels like her home. Debra also raised a good point re: the utilitarian nature of Beth’s "kindness"; check it out and see what you think.



Finally, I was always intrigued by the question of what Tara’s mother actually knew about the demon legend. She wasn’t cowed enough by it to stop practicing magic, even though the legend said that that’s where the magic came from. If she didn’t believe it, did she challenge it openly? And if she didn’t believe it herself, she apparently let Tara believe it. What was going on with that whole legend in the preceding generation? I’m glad you find the line of questioning interesting, because it’s definitely a factor in this story.



Thanks, Vicki, as ever for your amazing feedback. It’s just such a great feeling to see your name on the thread and know that I’m in for a good, insightful read. Take good care of your briefs (and shouldn’t we all observe that policy?) and hope the semester is going well for you.



DMW: Why is Tara so spooked about insanity? Check out Debra’s thoughts on the subject, below. She’s very much in line w/ my own thinking on that subject. I like your comparison of Willow’s and Tara’s need to be loved, and the divergent ways they show that as a function of their family history. I see Tara as having a positive emotional history with her family, wherein "positive" means strong, accentuated. Some were intensely negative, one was intensely good. There was little in the way of neutrality. Willow’s family seems negative, by contrast—absent, lukewarm, neither great nor awful. You have a remarkable sense of Willow’s moral evolution; I’ll be curious to see what you think of her actions in this story. (Because in the end, she runs off with Donnie! Whaddya think?) Thanks for writing, DMW, both on this board and the fantastic "Dark Rose." Totally captivated, I am. (Speaking like Yoda also I am, apparently.)



Grimaldi: You and a lot of people have some serious questions about Beth’s plans. Hope you like how I answer them. Also glad you liked the Magic Box exchange; sometimes the Scoobies pretty much write themselves. (I sit back and watch basketball while they’re doing it.) Thanks for following the story, Grimaldi, and taking the time to write.



Debra: Hey girl! I’m so glad you like the dialogue and characterizations. I truly enjoy writing them. Yes, Willow is definitely protective about Tara in all sorts of ways: she knows she’s being sort of silly when she reacts to Dawn’s crush on Tara, but she’s also never too far away from the girl who was so moved when Tara told her that she was just hers. (Did that sentence make sense? Pronouns get tough in same-sex writing, I’ve found!) Now…You have a great observation re: the functionality and purposefulness of Beth’s niceness: it’s goal-oriented, a means to an end. I’m sure that as a woman who considers herself a pious Christian, Beth is more than happy to make nice with Tara over the phone. But if being nice worked against her own needs, would she do it? Probably not when the stakes are this high, I think. You’re right: it’s human nature to be nice in the (usually unstated) pursuit of our own desires. When does that become actively sociopathic or manipulative? Great ideas, Debra, on a character who I find increasingly interesting to me. And yes—I was intrigued, too, by Tara’s reaction on the show when Glory’s brain-suck strategy came to light. In this story, I see that as having struck a particularly painful chord with Tara, for reasons yet to emerge. Thanks, Debra, for the incredibly kind words and the very thoughtful observations. You always have great things to say.



Ruth: So glad to see you here! And glad you like the Scooby exchanges. I love writing them, b/c the characters (as the show originally gave them to us) are so distinct and interesting as individuals, and their collective energy is just wonderful. You’re right—Tara’s handling of Dawn’s crush says a lot about her as a person. Even if she has a hard time believing that anyone would crush on her, she accepts that she’s singular to Dawn and she treats such things with the kindness they deserve. Ah, the crushes on the unattainable…Before I came out to myself, I always told myself that I admired these older women; that I looked up to them. Well, yeah…and I also wanted to kiss them until the cows came home (usually around 6:15, on my farm). Glad you liked the Glory hold reference…I’d been sitting on that one (so to speak) for a while, wanting some way to play with the words. Thanks for reading, Ruth, and for taking the time to send in such good thoughts.



Jixer: You’re right: "Crush" is very aptly named. Delicious and sweet…You’re also right about Buffy here: I’m writing her much more as I saw her in the first 4+ seasons, which means less controlling, more able to share her concerns, less Lone-Ranger’ish. At the risk of sounding sadistic, I’m glad that Beth and Donnie creep you out—it means they’re feeling real, or credible to you. It’s easy to paint Donnie, especially, as a cardboard cartoon villain, but then he gets very dull, very fast. Finally, I’m so glad you’re enjoying the stories you find on this Board, Jixer. They’ve definitely brought me countless hours of reading pleasure that outstrip what I find on the screen, esp. in the wreckage of this season’s BtVS. Thanks for reading, Jixer, and taking the time to write.



OK, Kittens. That’s all for now. Thanks again!

[Penrose Orleans]

Ooooh, update.... I've got several comments, so (in order to look coooool ) I'll number them:



1. Beth rocks my world. She is about the most gloriously Machiavellian (in the actual sense of the word, as in following the philosophy of Machiavelli, not the dime-store usage as "doin' bad stuff for your own benefit"), well-motivated, secretive and layered minor character that I've ever seen in a fanfic (and if you can't speak the language of convoluted like me, that's a GOOD thing). I want you to go out and write a novel-length fic about her, I want to meet her, I want to have her babies... (well, maybe not that one) Anyway, just kudos on that great extra!



2. The Dawn exchange was very very cute... I remember those days of admiring little crushes very well... I only hope that Tara can be there for her when the whole Key mess comes crashing down (because I believe that it will! )



3. Getting to the main plot veins of the story, I was really happy to hear Tara open up a little bit to Willow- her lack of sharing, though explainable, is hard to bear for both of them! I know that it's totally traumatic for Tara, but it broke my heart a little to read a narration like this:

Quote:

---

They were so synchronized, it seemed, in everything else; each knew the other to the bone. And then there were the first eighteen years of Tara’s life, that Willow was left to fit together like a puzzle whose pieces came to light only fleetingly.

---

It's so damaging to both of them in the long run to have this between them... I just hope that Tara lets herself confide in Willow before she's forrced to by Donnie, though somehow I doubt that that could ever happen. You've set the scene so well for a really human portrayal of Tara as both a sinner and a victim, and that makes her plight all the more pitiable, which means that your writing is rockin'!



4. Before I get to Willow (a more serious comment) I want to say again that Anya is hilarious! That's not the best part, though; the best part is that she gives comic relief without seeming like comic relief *ahem-nerd-villains-cough-cough*, as well as actually illustrating the conflicts that have gripped the Scoobs... many compliments for that!



5. Rounding it out (and good thing, too- I was writing a novel up there!), just a quick one on Willow and her protectiveness. I find it great that Willow is so full of self-sacrifice, always complimenting Tara and trying to make her feel better about herself. I especially like, though, the fact that she can get too enthusiastic in this- I see the potential for her going off half-cocked (so to speak ) and doing something very, very bad. This potential is just the right kind of weakness that Willow has- and I truly appreciate your having captured it (can you tell that I'm really into the idea of human weakness and imperfection? *sing-song* Everyone has blots on their soooul). Till next time, Always Your Bitch



Edited because I fail at typing...

"No matter how much we scorn it, kitsch is an integral part of the human condition."-Milan Kundera

"The real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else." -Umberto Eco

Edited by: Penrose Orleans at: 2/12/03 9:21:05 pm

[greenwitch]

Dear Mary,



I've been lurking for quite a while now and this fic has finally brought me out of hiding. This is my first fic response!



I just wanted to join the chorus cheering this story! I am always amazed at how much emotional depth you are able to impart to your characters. Your portrayals of the "good guys" (the scoobies and especially willow and tara) are spot on and you are able to make the "bad guys" (donnie, beth, and oz in your previous fic) so fascinating.



i'm not sure what beth wants or what evil plot donnie is hatching, but due to your textured and deftly handled characterization, i feel they are three dimensional characters and can almost grasp how they think (though being in donnie's head is not the most pleasant place to be, mind you!). in many ways, i think your psychological examination of donnie rivals thomas harris' exploration of hannibal lecter.



thanks for the great fic! hoping for an update soon!



greenwitch

[AntigoneUnbound]

Holy creative inspiration, Kittens--I have an update to post right after these replies! When the muse (Clittoria) comes a-calling, who am I to stay plunked on the couch drinking coffee?



Nora (my most wonderful bitch)--Whoa...numbered items!! Very impressive! You know, Beth is really growing on me, too...kinda like mold. There's something about her that piques my interest. But I certainly don't want to horn in on your baby-makin' action with the girl. I'll just observe from a safe distance. It's fun to write Dawn's crush and Anya's character in general. I agree: the "evil trio" was about the lamest idea I've seen since Michael Jackson got married. (Must. Gouge. Eyes. Out. Now.) Their humor was incredibly forced, and I'm almost glad I don't get UPN in my area b/c I hear Warren's still showing up. (See above parenthetical comment re: eye-gouging.) Anyway, those two are just an enjoyable element to me in this story. And it's so important that Tara open up to Willow; I'm sorta hoping it acts as a model for Willow, who can tend to go all "Everything's fine!" on us. Yes, Tara is a flawed human being, but she embraces her humanity, and has a reasonable hope that love will prevail. I don't think Donnie has that. I also agree with you that Willow's protectiveness can get too enthusiastic, to use your apt phrase. Willow can be very reactive, unthinking when it comes to trying to make bad things better right away. This kind of hurt doesn't heal overnight, and Willow's learning that through Tara's gradual disclosures.



Thanks, Nora. Your feedback always rocks and as your humble ho', I appreciate it immensely.



Greenwitch: Wow--your first fic posting...I'm honored! There's so much great stuff on this board; I really appreciate you checking out this story and taking the time to give such thoughtful feedback. I'm glad you like the characters, b/c my stuff usually feels far more character-driven than plot-driven. That's probably a reflection of my own interests: If I like a character, I'll follow her through anything; but if I don't, the plot can't salvage my attention. I'm especially glad to learn that the "bad guys" feel three-dimensional to you, b/c if they don't, we just dismiss them as annoying, I think. I hope you like where the story goes, and thanks again for taking the time to send feedback.



OK--next posting: the update!

[AntigoneUnbound]

Gods Served and Abandoned

Disclaimers:
These lovely creatures belong to a most ungrateful lord. Come, let us away to the castle and free them!

Spoilers:
Up to season 5. I’ve played slightly with the timing of a certain Big Bad’s appearance, with some implications for Dawn’s entrance.

Rating:
R for now; if it changes, I’ll give heads-up.

Distribution:
Sure, with acknowledgement.

Feedback:
Even more sure! Bring it on!


*****
Part 12
*****


The heavy, crimson drapes were closed, leaving the room unnaturally dark. She sat beside the bed, cradling the bony hand with infinite tenderness while her mother lay sleeping. She gazed for long moments at the slender fingers, bringing them unconsciously up to her face as she remembered…

…hands bundling her into her winter jacket, long fingers sliding the zipper expertly into its clasp and up over her chest;

…hands brushing her hair, never rushed or impatient, easing the brush gently through the tangles and smoothing the golden strands in its wake;

…hands tossing lumps of dough down onto the ancient wooden counter, then punching the dough with a strength and sureness of purpose that characterized all of her work;

…hands gliding back and forth over a sewing machine, fingers nimbly edging the fabric into colorful, intricate patterns;

…hands rubbing lotion onto her chapped skin in the winter, blue eyes sparking as they looked down at her;

…hands checking her forehead for a fever, resting cool against flushed skin…

They were the most beautiful, capable hands in the world, Tara knew suddenly; no one had such wonderful hands as her mother. They had done everything; smoothed her own life as best as they could, and taught her how to grow herbs and weave fibers and play the piano. They were strong, with long, tapering fingers, faintly marked by tiny scars picked up in the business of living.

And they were warm. As long as they were warm, Tara knew, the sun hadn’t deserted her. And somewhere, in a quiet room in her mind, Tara let herself believe that so long as she held her mother’s hand, it would never grow cold. She would keep her warm with her own warmth, just as her mother had done for her. Tara would keep the cold away from her mother’s body and her own soul. All she had to do was hold on.

She was surprised to feel her mother stir suddenly. After a moment, she opened her eyes. Morphine and her ebbing life force gave them an unfocused cast. Tara could tell that she was struggling to awaken, and to stay awake.

"Mama?" she whispered quietly, reverting back to the first name by which she had called this woman, the name she had used when she had so many years with her still ahead.

She watched her mother struggle to moisten her lips. "Mama, do you want some ice chips?" Her mother gave an almost imperceptible nod. Tara brought the cup close to the bed, grasping one chip in her own long fingers and holding it to her mother’s lips. She watched as her mother took it gratefully and let the liquid dissolve slowly in her mouth.

After a moment, she managed to speak. "Hey, Bright Eyes. What day is it?"

Tara had to think for a moment before she could answer. "It’s Tuesday, Mama. Tuesday afternoon," she added.

"I feel like I been in this bed forever," her mother whispered. In fact, it had been a little less than a week since they had brought her home from the hospital, back to her own room where she could see the trees starting to bud outside her window, knowing that she would not live to see them open.

"You wouldn’t think it would be this tough," she continued. "All I got to do is lay here. But dying is hard work." She grinned at her words, too weak to summon a laugh.

Tara fought the urge to argue with her, to tell her that she shouldn’t talk that way. She is dying. She knows that better than any of us. Nobody gets to tell her how to talk. Instead, she kissed her mother’s hand and whispered, "I wish I could do something, Mama. I—I wish I could make it hurt less." She tried to get the words out without choking.

"This part here…this is just the mop-up, you know? Don’t really mean that much. Life—that’s the party, and Honey, you brought so much joy to my life." She closed her eyes with the effort of speech.

No, Mama—don’t speak in the past tense! Please, stay with me!

Tara looked at her mother, absently feeling wetness splash over her cheeks. She wouldn’t have thought that she had any more tears in her.

Looking at the frail, wasted figure before her, Tara realized that all of the Hollywood tear-jerkers and TV Movies of the Week and tragic novels were bullshit. Death didn’t descend in one gentle, peaceful moment, with the dying person’s eyes fluttering softly closed accompanied by one last, defiant breath.

Death was the thoughtless intruder who showed up whenever he felt like it; came in and ambled around your house, breaking everything you held precious and left abruptly, only to return just as capriciously. Death took his time and made himself at home and stole the person you loved bit by bit. Death didn’t care about your feelings and he didn’t care about your beloved’s dignity and he didn’t care about poignant moments of farewell. Death didn’t answer to you; Death was oblivious to you.

Tara had watched her mother waste away, the palliation of the morphine demanding the sacrifice of precious final hours of lucidity. When she had finally accepted that her mother was dying, she had thought that perhaps there would be some final, infinitely touching exchange between the two of them. Now she realized that the goodbye would be patch-work in nature; moments when the pain unclenched its fist and let her mother think, speak, be. This was one of those moments.

Forcing some measure of steadiness into her voice, Tara replied, "Mama, you gave me life. Gave me so many incredible gifts…courage, strength, magic." She drew a shuddering breath and forged on. "Every good thing I have, Mama, I owe to you."

She watched, heart twisting, as her mother pulled Tara’s hands to her lips and kissed them softly. "Bright Eyes…I hate that I’m gonna miss so much of your life…You’re gonna have the most beautiful children, Tara; I know it." Her mother blinked against her own tears.

Funny how she’s never mentioned my wedding day. You know, don’t you, Mama?

Aloud, she whispered, "I hope I do half the job with them that you’ve done with me, Mama."

"You will, Honey. Just love ’em like there’s no tomorrow." Her eyes grew unfocused, and Tara knew that her mother needed to sleep again.

"You rest, Mama. I’m right here." She felt exhaustion creep over her, needles of pain pricking into her back and neck from the hours spent in the chair, day after day. And still she held her vigil.

After perhaps an hour, she heard footsteps coming through the door behind her. Turning, she saw Donnie staring at their mother, his hands jammed deep into his pockets. He was chewing on the inside of his lip—one of the few habits they shared. She couldn’t read the expression in his eyes.

"She wake up at all?" He didn’t look at Tara as he asked.

"Just for a few minutes. The pain didn’t seem as bad as it did earlier." Tara watched him, hesitant to speak or move.

Looking at him more closely, she could see that he was clenching and unclenching his fists within his pocket. Eyes still locked on their mother, he asked, "Did she say anything?"

Like what, Donnie? You want to hear that she asked about you? Why should she? You only visit her once a day, and you never stay more than ten minutes. So what do you think she might have said?

But she only replied, "Nothing much. She was thirsty; wanted to know what day it was." She was unnerved by his quiet; by his unwavering gaze at the figure in the bed.

So low that she could barely hear him, he suddenly muttered, "She’s really gonna die, isn’t she?"

A wave of grief and rage crashed over her heart, finding new crevices to wash into and leave her raw. What tipped you off, Donnie? The portable IV with the morphine drip? The thirty-five pound weight loss in the last three months? Reverend Timson, coming around every other day and mumbling over her bed? She came as close as she ever had to telling him what she really thought of him.

And then she saw—or later, she would remember being sure she had seen—his eyes glistening. In the dimly lit room, his brown eyes seemed to glitter slightly, like rain on a dark stone.

She sat as if paralyzed, unable to take her eyes off of that which she had never seen before. "Donnie?" she practically whispered. And still he looked only at their mother.

"Do you want to s-sit with her for a bit?" she finally asked, even as she unconsciously braced herself against his taunts about her speech.

But he said nothing; it was as if he hadn’t heard her. After a moment, he turned and walked out of the room.

*****

His looked at his mother, lying asleep in the old bed, and fought the urge to run out of the room. She was so bony and weak, and when she was awake—which wasn’t that often—half the time she talked nonsense because of the drugs. He could practically see her life ebbing away, and he was terrified that she would die right before his eyes. He hated being alone with her, not wanting to look at her too closely and yet unable to look away, afraid she might stop breathing and he wouldn’t notice. He knew there were only a few more times that he would look at his mother, and then he would look one last time before they closed her casket.

The only thing that scared him even half that much was his father—walking around like he was in a trance, barely speaking except to bark out orders. He didn’t even criticize Donnie these days. He just charged him with some job and then went back to his own work and whatever horror film was playing in his mind. His mouth was carved into a permanent slash, it seemed. On three different occasions, Donnie came upon his daddy unexpectedly and found his eyes red and swollen. The first time, he had made the mistake of staring openly, a mistake which led to a back-hand across the jaw. "What are you lookin’ at?" his daddy whispered hoarsely. Donnie just mumbled and looked down, knowing that there was no right answer for that question. He waited just the briefest of moments, and then turned and walked off in the opposite direction, not even knowing where he was going. After that, when he saw his father in such a state, he quickly looked away and went on about his business.

Did he love his mother? He wasn’t even sure what the word meant. His parents were supposed to love each other, but he knew something was wrong there. She told Donnie she loved him; why couldn’t he feel it? He knew her eyes didn’t light up when they saw him. He wouldn’t even know what the phrase really meant if he hadn’t seen her looking at Tara that way a thousand times in the last seventeen years. She would have loved Tara even if they weren’t related. His mother loved him, he suspected, because she was his mother.

Had it always been that way? He tried his best to remember, but everything seemed all jumbled up. He knew that he couldn’t ever remember not being angry most of the time; and he knew that his anger had frightened her. After awhile, that was rewarding in itself, because at least it was something, some kind of gut reaction.

He knew that his mama had taught Tara all kinds of magic, even though she wasn’t supposed to. He wondered if it had ever crossed her mind to teach him. Not that he wanted to learn that weird stuff…So Tara had learned how to float all kinds of things with barely a whisper of her breath. Meanwhile, he fought and kicked and cursed and it seemed like nothing moved for him, ever.

Except for Tara. She was always afraid of him. And that felt good, too…But even as he drank up the pleasure of terrifying her like a dog drinking from a puddle, he knew—somewhere, deep in his gut—that she wouldn’t always be afraid of him. Little sister would grow up and leave him behind.

*****

"I wonder if I could get some kind of course credit for demon fighting? Maybe something like criminal justice or modern culture." Willow was all about applying school to everything, and conversely.

"Modern culture?" Tara asked, digging into her coat pocket to find her dorm key.

"Ohyeah. Vampires are very hot nowadays. Dark, brooding creatures of the night are practically sex symbols, without the requisite tans."

Turning, Tara murmured, "I think I like my sex symbols light and quirky and given to boundless optimism."

Willow beamed. "How ’bout we make that singular? Your sex symbol. And I’d like to apply for the job, please."

Tara grinned at her and arched her eyebrows suggestively. "Care to come upstairs for an in-depth interview?" She was about to lean forward for a kiss when a grating voice called out.

"Hey Tara—bet you thought I’d headed back home." Tara wheeled about and saw Donnie smirking at her. She also caught his leering gaze at Willow, and this second fact fueled her response.

"Donnie, what the hell are you doing here?" Beside her, she felt Willow move into a familiar defensive posture. Donnie counts as a demon, Tara realized.

"I was lookin’ for you; then again, you probably figured that out." He was rocking slightly back and forth on his heels, that same fake smile plastered onto his face. Tucked under one arm was a small lock box.

"I don’t think there’s anything left for you and Tara to talk about," Willow replied, her eyes narrowing practically to slits.

She felt her stomach clench as Donnie slowly and deliberately ran his gaze up and down her body. "Actually, Willow, this doesn’t really involve you. This is family business."

Tara had followed his gaze as well, and now an incipient rage slid along her veins. "Willow is my family, Donnie. I’m not ashamed of that; in fact, I’m downright proud of it."

Donnie just laughed. "Oh yeah—what’s that saying you all have? ‘We’re here; we’re queer’?"

"We’re fabulous, get used to it," Willow finished for him. "You know, you’re pretty familiar with our lingo, Donnie. Wanna sign up?"

He flushed, deep crimson splashes washing over his face. "Shut up," he hissed. "I know what my parts are for, even if you don’t."

Crossing her arms, Tara said contemptuously, "I think you’re jealous, Donnie, because I have a better-looking girlfriend than you’ll ever have."

"Listen, bitch," he muttered, taking a half-step closer to them. "I don’t know why you turned out the way you did, but it’s just one more sign that you’re nothin’ but a fucking freak." He practically spat the words out.

Feeling Willow’s anger spiral close to explosion, Tara drew a deep breath and tried to center herself. "Donnie, as much as I enjoy these special moments, we really do have nothing to say to each other. Go home. Alone."

Now the oily smile was back in place. "Actually, Tara we got something pretty important to talk about. Since you won’t come home, I guess I gotta bring it to you." He patted the box slowly, a gesture that seemed almost obscene.

Tara felt a shallow ripple of dread pass over her. But what was there to fear? Pulling herself up to her full height, she looked at her brother dismissively. "What’s in the box, Donnie? A gun? Are you planning to shoot me, the evil lesbian witch? How cliched is that?" Beside her, she felt Willow’s hand tighten in her own.

But Donnie only laughed. "Now Tara—do you really think I’d try to hurt you?"

This was too much for Willow. "Yeah, asshole, I think you’d love to hurt her. And I almost want to see you try, because then I’ll have a good excuse when the cop asked me why I burned your eyeballs out of their sockets."

Tara knew that Donnie thought Willow was speaking metaphorically. You think I got power, Donnie? You should see her.

Donnie had turned away from Willow, after one more salacious leer, and addressed Tara. "I’m telling you one more time, Sis—you need to come home."

You look at my girl like that one more time, and I’ll be the one ripping you apart.

"Or what, Donnie? My ‘demon side’ will come out? Everyone will see how Mom’s ‘evil’ got passed on to me? Mom was so strong, Donnie, and it scared the hell out of Dad. And you," she added, glaring at him.

His mouth twisted with anger. "You think she was the only one with power, Tara? Huh? You think she was so damn special? She was nothing."

Tara recoiled as if slapped. She could feel the rage cresting again, and this time wasted no energy fighting it. "She was special, Donnie. I’m sorry you were too busy being pissed off at the world to recognize it, but that’s your loss, not mine."

She took a step toward him, and spoke very quietly. "There’s no demon in me, Donnie. Go home."

Donnie held his ground and spoke just as quietly. "That’s what you think, Tara. But I got some bad, bad news for you."

Tara shook her head in exasperation. "What kind of game is this, Donnie? It’s out in the open now—Mom didn’t have any demon in her!"

Donnie laughed, a low, very unpleasant sound. "No, Mama wasn’t a demon, Tara." He smiled, and patted the box once more. "But let’s not forget about Daddy."

*****

To Be Continued

[molsongrrrl]

-- excellent twist! i guess i never thought about her dad being the demon or the side of the family with the demon ... can't wait for more!!!

A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down your pants

[darkmagicwillow]

I loved Tara's thoughts and memories of her mother's hand; what a wonderful way to make her feelings of love tangible, yet it's tragic to to see them so terribly transformed by illness. Tara's attempts to hold on to her mother by keeping her warm and avoiding the past tense are poignant too.



Donnie feels very human, confused and hurt in this time of loss, in this chapter. He's actually becomes a tragic figure as we see him think that he wouldn't know what love was if he hadn't seen how his mother looked at Tara. Not how she looked at him. What could have happened so early in his life, or perhaps even before it, to prevent his mother's natural love from shining on him?



The twist at the end was brilliant!

--

"Omnia mutantur, nihil interit." -- "Everything changes, but nothing is truly lost."