Sidestep - Third Chronicle (COMPLETE)

[edob]

love take charge tara:)

wondering who wolfram and hart really want back from the dead.....

[Kajun]

Katharyn, So glad Willow spilled the beans.. and yikes! I suspected she might need to bring someone back, although, I should have guessed it was Toni’s father. It makes total sense. No doubt there is more to this whole request. Likely more than even Toni realizes. She’s dealing with the evil WaH after all. I think the girls are gonna need some extra witchy powers to get thru this and I know just the person for the job!

Oh man, if Vamp Willow returns, she would find some pretty nasty ways to torment Tara, especially knowing human Willow is enjoying the “happily ever after” with Tara. ACK! .. now I’m speculating on that too --LOL. Another awesome chapter.. Thanks!

[Katharyn]

Astronsoul - You're right, truth is always best. Not always as simple as just telling it though...

As for Tara 'poofing' that's going to come back on her...

All you can certainly bank on is that they'll come out the other side, just fine... all about the journey though. Thanks.

SMGOVAN - Clever of me? Would perhaps have been if I had thought of it up front And yes, Toni does have leverage. If it were just Toni then that would be one thing, but W&H giving up their claim to her? And why didn't I think of Sidestep Trinity? Damn... you should have said that earlier!! Cheers

edob - I love take charge Tara too. Can't you tell after all this I've written? LOL Though I like writing Willow and can find more 'fun' with her, Tara is my true fave to write because she can be so nuanced and gets on with all the other characters so everything can revolve around her... as we'll see.

As for what W&H really want... who says they want anything?

Kajun - Not quite what you'd previously guessed (which was a great idea BTW!) but I had been trailing Toni's Dad for a long time. Like about five years LOL. If I had written this right after SS2 I'd perhaps have had a better case for expecting you to realise

The key to W&H is always their contractual obligations both owed by them and to them...

Whatever makes you mention VW though? Oh, yeah... it's Sidestep! Speculate away... I love it. Also I can surgically amend the future parts when someone has a cool idea and look great

Thanks to you all

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicles: Third Chronicle(Part 7 (249))
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler warning: I’m really not going to bother after all this time except to say that this fic will totally spoil my own Sidestep: First Chronicle and Second Chronicle which can be found in the Completed Fics archive (A-M)
Distribution: This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens and the Kitten Board please. (This applies to all my stories, fics and particularly to Sidestep Chronicle as a whole.)
Summary: Tara confronts Toni.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc. I am making no money from this series of stories however all original characters and situations remain my property.
Rating: The earlier Chronicles of Sidestep were much darker and I slapped a blanket R rating on them for occasional content. This series is lighter in tone caution is only recommended for occasional scenes. However to understand absolutely everything that went before you’d have to have read the first two fully so…
Couples: Tara and Willow forever. Rupert and Jenny are also together. Nothing else referred to.
Text convention: We’re occasionally dealing with some deaf characters here and that has to be addressed. Speech inside asterisks is spoken in sign language only. Occasionally people responding to signed speech may do so inside speech marks, which indicates that they are also verbalising as well. Occasionally I might make a mistake and get this wrong but when dealing with a character that only signs, take it as read that they’re doing so when they “speak.”
Notes: I think this is what they call plotting. You set a character (Toni) up as the ‘bad guy’ and then they get slapped down… There’s a certain amount of satisfaction in doing that, but then you do find out more…
The method of transport in this is obviously inspired by Willow doing something similar back in a period of the canon that will not be mentioned but – as there – there has to be a consequence. Something that stops it being a superpower that will always be exploited. So it won’t be!
Thanks to: Anyone who is hopping aboard the Sidestep Train. Stick your hand up, lurkers…
(Not ‘stick your hand up lurkers’ unless, you know, that’s what you like. Some girls do like to… or have… Stopping now. But punctuation is important kids! For the want of a comma a lurker was… nevermind.)
Does the humour help you find some courage?



Toni was sat in the dark. She often sat that way, letting images play out over the screen in her mind.

Thoughts. Memories.

Guilt.

But tonight she’d been there most of the night because she couldn’t get to sleep. A glass of whisky – neat – rested on the small table beside her but she’d barely had a quarter of it and still caught a whiff of the fiery liquid from time to time. Usually she only used it to kill colds, but… she wasn’t a big drinker.

Not even able to drink herself into quiet oblivion. Pretty pitiful.

She’d just been drifting in and out of exhaustion – rather than sleep - and then –

With a whoosh of air someone was in the room with her. The movement of the air was accompanied by a flash of light and that was when she recognised it as Tara, before darkness shrouded them again.

Shocked, Toni froze where she was, clutching the arm of the chair and wondering if it was the whisky or the exhaustion that’d made her delusional. After a few seconds she flicked the lamp beside her on and decided that another look was the only way she was going to tell.

Delusions didn’t have nosebleeds. That was probably a rule.

And this wasn’t a nosebleed. That didn’t do it justice.

Blood was streaming from Tara’s nose even before the woman had sunk to her knees. For a horrible moment their eyes met and – if this whole thing hadn’t told her already – she could see that Tara knew. It had brought Tara here, perhaps intent on sending her where she wanted Willow to go.

The fury in those eyes only vanished – or was hidden - as Tara collapsed forwards and almost passed out. The collapse galvanised Toni into action, grabbing her friend and turning her onto her side. That was what you did for nosebleeds, right? But – here? In here? She couldn’t be here…

More to the point, where had Tara…?

*You teleported?* she pulled Tara up enough to see her, made her open at least one eye while she signed.

Tara just groaned and Toni felt the deep expulsion of air shiver through the woman.

Stupid witch. Stupid damned witch!

Tara clearly wasn’t in the best of conditions and about the only thing she could do right away was to try and stem the flow of blood. It occurred to her, here in Charlie’s bedroom, that she should be trying to keep everything nice. Keep it how it had been left but…

Tara’s blood seeped onto the covers of the bed despite her best efforts. *Stupid witch! You’re bleeding on everything. Stop bleeding in here. You’re ruining it – you’re ruining her place!*

But Tara couldn’t see her. Maybe if she’d been able to talk outloud but… no.

So she kept seeing to the bleeding until, a few minutes later, the flow stopped and the towel that Toni had fetched and put under Tara felt like she could’ve wrung it out and given a vampire a meal.

If it had gone on any longer than that she’d seriously been considering calling the paramedics. It was yet another few minutes after that, while Toni tried to clean the blood from the floor – easy – and the sheets of the small bed – not working out at all, before Tara’s eyes opened and fixed on her.

She hadn’t quite been unconscious, but she’d been in so much pain that she might as well have been.

*You teleported,* Toni said. *That was beyond fucking stupid. God damn it, human’s aren’t designed to do that. You’re not designed to do that. It’s not your fucking magic and you’re more than out of shape even if it was.*

Tara took the words in, but didn’t say anything. She just glared.

Add the two things together and it was pretty much confirmed that the woman knew. She’d never teleported in her life, so far as Toni knew, because of this very problem. But instead of driving a few hundred miles, or flying down, Tara had been so desperate to get here that she’d taken a risk that could have killed her.

*Say something then,* Toni challenged.

“You make me sick.”

Tara didn’t need to say the words out loud to be understood, there was no one else to hear her, but she was probably making a point when she chose to anyway.

*I didn’t have any choice.*

“You threatened Willow. You threatened us.” It was actually easier to read her lips than follow fingers that looked… uncoordinated. Still getting the message across, but it felt like a woman who used sign every day and had done for nearly twenty years now, was having to grope around to find them. Had she hurt herself? Beyond the obvious? Bleeding from the head, something could’ve gone wrong in her head… Oh, god, what if that was it? Shouldn’t she just get Tara checked out anyway?

Except… Tara wouldn’t listen to her now would she?

*I didn’t have any choice,* she said again, shaking her head. What was she supposed to have done? Just ignore the fact that Wolfram and Hart were giving her what she’d been working for all this time? Ignore what she’d done to get to this point?

“Ask us, perhaps. Talk to us. Tell us what they’d said to you – whatever they offered you and whatever they wanted. We’d have helped. But no - ”

Toni stamped, ending that suggestion. They might well have listened, but they definitely wouldn’t have agreed. *You can’t help, Tara. You can’t do anything about this. You can’t do anything. But Willow can and I need her. I need her to go and get my Dad and I’m going to make that happen.*

Tara didn’t argue, she just made the obvious point. “He’s dead.”

*I know he’s dead.*

“He’s dead. And you should let him lie. Just let him lie.”

*Like you did, you hypocritical bitch!?*

Tara sat there, looking like she was struggling to keep her head upright. Toni wished that she hadn’t added the ‘bitch’ part, but she didn’t regret the bit where she’d labelled Tara a hypocrite. Not at all. Sometimes the truth hurt. But she relented and helped a woman she still hoped would one day again be a friend into a more comfortable position, both to support herself and still be able to sign.

*I’ve seen the files,* she continued once that was done. *Did you know just how much the firm were watching you? Before and after you got to Sunnydale. Before you started sleeping with a vampire – but there wasn’t much actual ‘sleeping’ going on, was there? They were watching you even before you ignored everything that thing was doing to people – all that time – everything Willow had already done. There were dozens, maybe hundreds of deaths just in the time you knew her. And, Tara... You. Let. It. Happen.*

“I know what I did,” Tara said. “But that’s got nothing to do with this.”

*It’s got everything to do with this,* Toni said. *Everything. Because you don’t get to say ‘no’. You don’t get to tell me that what I want – Willow to take a chance for me – isn’t better than the fact you let that vampire leave your bed, every single night to slaughter more people. I mean was she really that good a fuck, Tara?*

Tara’s speed belied the fact that she must’ve been feeling – as well as looking like – death warmed over. The slap must’ve echoed around the room too because it was hard.

Her hand went to her face, clutching it. Hardly the worst reaction she’d had to deal with in her career. *Oh what, Tara? Please don’t ask me to believe you loved a vampire. You didn’t. What you are with Willow now is nothing to do with what you were then – what it was between you when she was one of them.*

The hand went back and Toni braced herself for a second slap.

She wasn’t trying to provoke Tara, but the woman had basically broken into her home, messed up a part of it that had been very important to her, assaulted her and was trying to tell her that what she wanted didn’t matter? Even after what she’d done herself? No, she wasn’t trying to provoke Tara but there was no way she was backing down either.

Toni knew she was in the right over this. Because if the positions had been reversed, if she was the one between Tara and getting Willow back?

She’d read the files. She knew exactly what Tara could do and would’ve done to her.

“Willow’s not going to do what you say,” Tara said. “Not now I know.”

*You failed to hold up on your end of a deal with Holland Manners – and yes, he’s still around. More importantly you failed to honour a contract with Wolfram and fucking Hart. You know very well that the trick with Lilah Morgan’s memory wasn’t all that they required. So think about that, just for a second. I can have the Vocah invited tomorrow. I doubt it will take a forgiving view of what you’ve done. Or not done.*

Of all the beings that they dealt with the Vocah was one of the more feared, but she could tell that Tara was about to dismiss the threat entirely.

“I’ll worry about that later,” Tara said, still wiping at her nose, even though the flow seemed to have stopped. “Willow’s not going to the Halls of the Dead. Not for you. Not for anyone. Not until…”

The day would eventually come. The day eventually came for everyone.

*Do you understand the process of bringing her back as a human? Having once been a vampire?* Toni asked. *What it was that you had done?* She could see from Tara’s face that she didn’t. *Neither, if I’m honest, do I. But I’m assured by beings who know these things that it’s linked to the vampire that she was. The shansu ritual was very specific and it’s not much of a problem for them to more than reverse it. They can strip Willow of her soul.*

“They, Toni?”

*I’m not the only one doing this to you,* she said. And it was true enough. *You broke your contract with Wolfram and Hart. They’re morally and legally at liberty to enforce the relevant clauses. I guess you didn’t read through all the detail because when I did, I had to have it translated.*

“This isn’t the firm. The firm doesn’t care about your father, Toni.”

*No, but they have a contract with me. And they’re way of fulfilling that will be to ensure that you fulfil yours. Or Willow can do it for you.*

There it was.

Tara was still shaking her head though, as if she thought it couldn’t happen.

*Willow didn’t fight this hard,* Toni said. *I can guess why. Can’t you?* Of course, for Tara, it wouldn’t be a guess at all. She’d know. Those two knew each other inside out.

“She remembers,” Tara said.

*Yes. She remembers what it was to be the vampire. She has all of that inside her, even if you two buried it under years of being in love and living a better life. It’s still there and she doesn’t want to go back to it.*

“You can stop this though,” Tara said.

Here it was. The appeal to her better nature or to her loyalty to them. Which exactly it would be – perhaps both? *No, I can’t.*

“You just have to say the word and it ends..”

*Even if they meekly accepted your breach of contract, which they won’t – I wouldn’t stop this. I can’t.*

“He’s dead, Toni.”

*Don’t you think I know that? I… We’re a lot alike you and I.*

“I’d never do this.”

*Wouldn’t you?* Toni asked. *You did things, questionable things. Ultimately they were made worthwhile because you got her back. Weren’t they? You did good things afterwards and now everything’s okay for you? You can look at yourself in the mirror? You don’t sit there in the dark thinking about your father, husband and daughter do you?*

Tara’s hands stayed still and so, uninterrupted, she continued.

*I’ve done things, Tara. I’ve done things you’ll never understand and never know about. I’ve done things that you probably did hear about and never thought to question. I worked so hard to find, to earn another way. But it’s Wolfram and Hart, Tara. The only reason I went there was because they gave you what you wanted. And they could give me what I wanted. There’s only one slice of goodness possible in this for me. That I do get him back. That’s it. Stop now and the price that’s already been paid was for nothing, all of it. Not just for me, but for hundreds of others. Thousands...*

“What did you do?” Tara asked.

*That’s not important. It’s enough to say that… you wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Remember that woman you screwed with the brain of? Who worked for the firm? Lilah Morgan?*

Tara nodded. Of course she did.

*She started out like me. She wanted something. Eventually her judgement was impaired before she got it. Don’t suppose for a moment that I can just… stop. It doesn’t work that way.*

“So Willow has to risk her life to make everything else that you did mean something?”

Toni nodded. It was all she needed to do.

*I’m sorry, Toni. I am. For your loss – all your losses – but most of all for not realising that you needed more help than we gave you. Maybe it wasn’t the ideal world we took you into, but we did our best. We all did our best. Obviously though it gave you ideas that…* Tara’s head was shaking.

*You’ve been bleeding all over Charlie’s room,* Toni said.

Seemingly for the first time Tara looked around and had the decency to be ashamed of herself. Just a little.

*I’ll call you a cab to the airport. A ticket will be waiting for you,* she said. *There are some shoes that should you fit in my room.*

They were done here. And despite what had just happened, she wasn’t about to let Tara try to teleport back. Not without certainty that someone would be there to meet her and look after her. Willow, after all, would be panicking at her wife’s disappearance.

Tara seemed to realise that perhaps that was the best option for her too. She was sure it all seemed very reasonable. Of course, she didn’t know yet that Willow should’ve probably taken the opportunity to get out of the house and make her move.

The confrontation had been inevitable and planned for. She’d known from the start that there had been no way Willow would keep what had happened from Tara, so she’d made it actually desirable. Something she could admit. And once Tara was away…

By the time she got home, Willow should be doing what she had to.

****************

[AstronSoul]

Dibs!

Confrontation Tara, hot stuff. Though considering, she is being hypocritical., doesn't give her a right to tell others what they can't do. But I can see where she is coming from too, giving that Willow is risking herself. But I have high hopes even with Willow doing this, Toni I am surprised didn't piss herself when Tara showed up, hell I probably would have. Angry Tara means get the hell out of her way to me lol.

Great Update!

[edob]

cannot wrap my head around why toni is so fixated on her dad. what about the husband and child???
thank you for the update, i do a chair dance to you:)

[Grimm]

Damn, Damn, Damn!!!!!! That fricking Toni. So, this was all a set-up to get Tara out of the house to clear the way for Willow to do Toni's bidding. I gotta say that I don't see a way for Toni to redeem herself after this (although Joss did make Spike likeable after the attempted rape..so I guess it is possible). Yes, Tara is a hypocrite..No, I don't give a Sh!t!!!.... Toni is wrong and i'm glad she had to drink that can of Tara flavored whoop ass!!

[Katharyn]

See this is where feedback is very useful. You weren't supposed to know everything now, but it did help me realise that even down the line I wasn't being very clear about things.

I'm not going to spoil things now edob but suffice it to say that readers are not in full possession of the facts. It's a cheat, really, when I withhold from the readers even though I put you in Toni's PoV...

It's fair to say though that this is something that Toni has been doing since she was 15. Everything in her life, at least now, has revolved around getting her Dad back and there's a certain amount of 'I've lost everything, what's left' about her. You're asking valid questions though. Thanks

SMGOVAN - It's dangerous this writing thing... LOL. I set up a character, probably one of the first original characters I ever wrote in real depth and now I've torn her down. Or have I? I mean, I think - looking back - there was always some of this in her. In Sidestep 2 there was an edge about her that many people didn't like for a long time, but one that was true to the character I think.

Was this a set up? Actually, no. I think it was more likely an understanding that - no matter what - Willow couldn't keep a secret (she knows her well) and that Tara would confront her after that. Maybe not so fast - porting was total surprise - but nonetheless. So, knowing that... Yeah, you can take advantage of it. But that's not quite a set up to me.

Redemption... interesting. See how things look at the end. Which isn't to say she is redeemed or not, but the results of her actions will be dealt with and her relationship with the others too. Does she need redemption? Or does she need a way out of the hole she's in... That's another way in which she's like Tara, though perhaps she doesn't realise it. Or who Tara was anyway.

(Yeah, I am making this up as I go... well done for prompting me to realise it!)

Love your final line

Thanks,

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Ooops, missed Astronsoul - not sure I ever specified 'confrontation Tara' as hot stuff. Tara... maybe

Personally (and this is not a character viewpoint) I think Tara's right to tell others what not to do only extends to what they do to her and to an extent Willow (or more 'them'). In Willow's place I'd want the ability to make my own decisions. Course my decisions would largely revolve around 'stay in bed with Tara' or 'take Tara somewhere else' (in every sense of the word 'take'

Concern though, absolutely. And I also believe in not repeating the mistakes of others. The trouble is Tara can't really label getting Willow back as a mistake and as such her example is a pretty bad one. So yeah, hypocrite. But hey, if they all just went home there'd be no story...

Thanks,
Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicles: Third Chronicle(Part 8 (250))
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler warning: I’m really not going to bother after all this time except to say that this fic will totally spoil my own Sidestep: First Chronicle and Second Chronicle which can be found in the Completed Fics archive (A-M)
Distribution: This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens and the Kitten Board please. (This applies to all my stories, fics and particularly to Sidestep Chronicle as a whole.)
Summary: The aftermath of Tara’s teleporting to Toni.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc. I am making no money from this series of stories however all original characters and situations remain my property.
Rating: The earlier Chronicles of Sidestep were much darker and I slapped a blanket R rating on them for occasional content. This series is lighter in tone caution is only recommended for occasional scenes. However to understand absolutely everything that went before you’d have to have read the first two fully so…
Couples: Tara and Willow forever. Rupert and Jenny are also together. Nothing else referred to.
Text convention: We’re occasionally dealing with some deaf characters here and that has to be addressed. Speech inside asterisks is spoken in sign language only. Occasionally people responding to signed speech may do so inside speech marks, which indicates that they are also verbalising as well. Occasionally I might make a mistake and get this wrong but when dealing with a character that only signs, take it as read that they’re doing so when they “speak.”
Notes: A couple of scenes to move the story along. This is the thing with actually writing this as a novel. Things have to move and I don’t get to be quite so self-indulgent with the writing. Back in the old days it would probably have taken a few months of posting to get this far! The whole thing is (currently) only about 125,000 words. Positively brief for me!
Thanks to: I haven’t done it so far, because it got kind of formulaic. So here’s a shout out to my gal (who never vanishes on me!)



Her wife had shocked her, winking out like that. And on the back of what Willow had assumed had been a strictly theoretical discussion that they’d had on the subject of teleportation. Something that they shouldn’t – wouldn’t – be doing.

And that had been years ago.

Maybe when they’d been young and stupid they’d have tried it…

Okay, Tara had probably never been stupid. A little messed up by events, but then who wasn’t? But that was all the more reason not to act that way now either.

It was…

Actually, yes, ‘stupid’ was the only word she’d been able to come up with. Tara had done something truly stupid. There really was no way around it.

Teleportation could so easily go wrong and even if it didn’t then the side-effects – which had been strictly theoretical until now… At the end of the day it was about manipulating energies that humans had no real part of. What they did with the elements, that was one thing and easier for them because – at it’s core – they were using nature in the way it had always been intended to be. That was nature harnessed.

But teleportation? That was pure magic and subject to all the laws of diminishing returns.

Or rather to the laws of ever increasing penalties. The more you twisted the universe to fit what you wanted it to be rather than what it was, the more it bit you back.

Tara could’ve killed herself. She hadn’t, but that wasn’t the point.

All the same she’d immediately grabbed the phone and gotten no answer. But she had to show a little faith. Because first of all she knew that Tara wasn’t dead. She had that innate sense of her wife and knew – with one hundred percent certainty – that Tara was still alive. More than that, she wasn’t in a state that would threaten her life for all she had that sense of pain.

Alive and not in danger. That was the main thing. No matter what else happened, that was something that she could hold onto. And the fact Tara had taken the most direct route to Toni – assuming that was where she’d gone – didn’t remove the opportunity this gave her.

Willow felt like a bad wife for even contemplating making use of the opportunity, but she might not get another and Tara was okay…

You might even say that this was the best chance she was going to get. Tara’s opposition had been obvious, she’d known it would be that way. But she’d still said ‘okay’ to Toni. Understanding the reality of the situation she was faced with, she’d still agreed and having admitted it to Tara – taking that burden of guilt away – didn’t change the fact that she was willing to do what had to be done.

She had to keep telling herself that Tara was, despite this uncharacteristic burst of irrationality – good word and much better than ‘stupid’ – alive. Probably feeling bad, but she was alive.

That meant that she had to press on. She had to do what had to be done. While she had her phone in her hand, she prepared a message on it but didn’t send it. Not just yet.

No, there were other things she needed to do first.

She hurried around the house, unsure how long she might have. If the teleportation had gone okay and Tara was in the right place, then she might appear back here in the wink of an eye too. But first she’d have to confront Toni – if the object of her ire was where Tara had supposed she would be. It was first thing in the morning though, Toni should be at home and that was where Tara would’ve gone.

It was where she’d have to have gone. She’d have to have picked somewhere she knew really well. Nothing she’d read suggested that you could teleport on the vague notion of ‘take me to Toni, wherever she is.’

Well, maybe some things out there could, but not them. They’d discussed all this, but keeping it strictly theoretical. They’d need an anchor; a place they knew well and could assume would be empty…

In fact, she knew exactly what Tara would’ve selected.

And she’d obviously made it… somewhere.

If Toni wasn’t there, Tara would either wait or travel more conventionally now she was at least in the right city. But Toni would be there. She wanted to be found. It was her – unspoken - part to play in this. To distract Tara.

They hadn’t ‘planned’ it exactly, but they’d known this would happen, just not how. Not this fast.

I’m taking part in distracting my wife.

Taking advantage of it.

I’m a bad, bad wife. I’m going to be on my knees for a month after this… not that that is an entirely bad prospect. Tara’s not likely to fall for that though…

Damn that girl. Damn her. But what choice was there? The contract… what the firm could do to her? What that would do to Tara more than her? Unacceptable.

So she was going to do what Toni asked. Dangerous as it was, she was going to do it because it was just theoretically dangerous – no one who was talking really knew what it was like in the Halls.

It might not be that she was even able to get there. Not without… and she had no intention of doing that. She wasn’t dying for Wolfram and Hart. She wasn’t dying for Toni. She was going there and coming back. Intact. Alive-alive-o. That was the plan and it sounded just fine, even if it needed a bit of fleshing out.

She dressed quickly, all the time calculating where Tara might be. How long she might have. She and Toni had discussed this. That it was inevitable that Tara would confront her – and that it was unlikely to be by phone for obvious reasons and once you were on vid, you’d want to be there in person and... This was just… faster than they’d ever expected. More dangerous… But Tara was okay.

If Tara had driven or flown down, that would’ve given her more time. As it was that had at least been halved. Toni would do her part though, to keep Tara distracted and down in Manhattan as long as she could.

Long enough to do what had to be done, to… get away. This was the first time in her life that she was trying to get away from Tara. And it sucked more ass in practice than it had theoretically.

But it wasn’t like she could just walk through a door. This delay had to buy her enough time for her to find a way. At least one that worked. Everything she’d ever read – most of it in the last day – was little better than myth or supposition. How did the living – and she was totally committed to staying that way and returning to the woman she’d married in the same state – get into the Halls of the Dead?

Thing was her status as an ex-vampire only allowed her to exist there, as best as she could tell. To cross a threshold, but not to actually get there.

There were some old, old favours she was going to have to call in to make this happen. Beings that Tara wouldn’t have been too happy about her visiting, beings that Tara might’ve been able to help her with actually. But… No. That wasn’t the way things were.

Because what terrified her, what truly terrified her wasn’t what Toni had threatened her with. It wasn’t even the consequences for Tara and their friends and family if the vampire her made it back into the world. No, what really terrified her was what Tara would do once she was in the Halls.

How the only way that Tara could get to her then was to… die.

Unacceptable. That was why she had to send the messages as soon as she was away. Tara had to know how she felt and focus on that, not on the emergency and what she could do about it.

They’d long since had bags packed in case of emergencies. The need to leave their home or to go take care of something somewhere else in a hurry had always been a possibility. Truth was that the clothes in there… they were a little ‘young’ for her now, and a little out of fashion too. But that was the young Willow. Behind the bleeding edge of style by twenty or thirty years. It’d always been her natural place in the order of things.

All she needed to add to the bag was her PDA, phone – she liked to keep those separate for redundancy purposes – and a few other bits and pieces. Then she wriggled into her clothes and walked down the stairs, looking around the place they called home.

All the little touches that said ‘Tara’ or ‘Willow’ or most importantly, ‘Us.’

Gifts from friends and family. Photo’s of those people. The kids who’d graduated from the school. All sorts of memories dotted around the place.

What the vampire would make of them… she knew very well. That creature, the memory of it, had been itching in her mind ever since Toni had made the threat. It wasn’t real, just a memory of what she’d done, how she’d felt and what she’d wanted… Mostly to Tara. Not real, but all the same…

That thing wasn’t coming back here. It wasn’t hurting Tara. And what if – like the vampire now – she was reduced to a memory? It’d remember loving Tara. Holding her. Making love with her. It’d remember their friends. It’d remember every moment of that. It would want nothing more than to corrupt those things.

It’d remember Tara had killed it, betrayed it too.

The vampire wouldn’t be quick about its revenge. Oh no, it was smart. Cunning was probably a better word. Insane things were cunning rather than smart. But it was creative too.

It’s punishment of her wife would be prolonged, abusive and manipulative. At least if Tara let it be so. And whatever Tara might say if asked, she probably would let it be that way. At least for a while, while she searched for a way to change things again.

But without Wolfram and Harts help?

No.

That wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t going to let it. So she’d do what the firm – and Toni – wanted. She’d take the risks and clear their debt. Even though she didn’t get Toni’s obsession. Even though she couldn’t for the world of her see how it was logical, sane or whatever to want a father you’d lost years ago back and barely give a thought to the same prospect to her child? Illogical? Sure. The whole thing was.

This… obsession of Toni’s was just that. It’d been in her mind so long that it was the only thing now that gave her any sense of why everything else in her life had been worth it. Arguably without it, Mal and Charlie might’ve been okay. They wouldn’t have died right after a fight… And like most of the fights Toni and Mal had, it’d been rooted in his opposition to her continuing to work for the law firm.

In order to get her father back…

Whether Toni thought she was winning something, or making everything mean something? Whatever… It really didn’t matter to her now. Willow had cared for the younger woman. She still did, even after this. But she’d been pushed far enough to give up on Toni in favour of protecting herself and Tara.

Willow wasn’t about to allow them to snatch her soul from her. The most important part of who she was, the part that gave her the ability to love and be loved. For them to take away the thing that gave her Tara? No, no and once again hell no.

“No way in any of the hells,” she murmured.

As she left the house, locking the door behind her and pushing the key back through the mail box – no telling where she’d lose it otherwise - she sent the message she’d prepared earlier. It didn’t say that Tara was stupid for doing what she had. Rather it was one word.

‘Sorry.’

Then she thought better of leaving it that way – she wanted Tara to understand and stay right here. Not doing anything else that was stupid. So she sent another.

‘I love you.’

With that done, she switched her phone off.

******************

[edob]

this is like eating a tootsie pop, gonna take a while before we get to the middle and i really like tootsie pops
thanks for the update katharyn, i will abide and please no to willow becoming vamp wilow...

toni=illogical=understatement

[AstronSoul]

Willow is very determined, I hope neither girl does anything really stupid, or stupid again lol.
It was very sweet that she left a message even if it was so short, her heart must be very heavy, the way she is leaving to go deal with all this.
I just pray that Willow stays human, hopefully soon everything will be resolved and they can get back to their lives.

[Grimm]

So it begins..... I gotta say i'm very nervous about this V.W. thing. It would be sooooooooooooooo great for the story if she came back. But, it would be sooooooooo bad for Tara. Poor Willow. She really has no choice in this. She has to do what Toni wants to settle the debt. If it's any consolation to her, I'm willing to pay her penalty. A month on my knees in front of Tara sounds like a punishment that I could really sink my teeth (and tongue) in!!

[Kajun]

Soooo.. what makes Willow think Tara won’t be able to stop her –even though she has a head start? She still doesn’t know how to get into the hall of death. While she’s trying to find out, Tara could do a locator spell, or call in a few favors of her own to find Willow. Not having the opportunity to research and think this plan though spells trouble with a capital T. And by that I mean a certain determined and angry blond witch! Having said that.. back at the graveyard Willow instructs Tara to be more creative with her magic. She wouldn’t have said that without reason so, clearly, Tara will have some pivotal role to play. By all outward appearances, Toni is leading Willow around by the nose, in full control of the task at hand. I suspect that isn’t actually the case. These two know each other inside and out. It would be easy for them to communicate by a look, jester or even lack of, thus preventing W&H, whom you just know is spying on them, getting wind of what they are planning. You gave a perfect example via Willow’s four words of text. I’m a big conspiracy theorist –LOL! Nice job keeping us guessing!

[Katharyn]

Parts 9 and 10 will be posted in the next few minutes. Both are fairly short so I will put them in together.

Feedback first though

edob - Never had a tootsie pop, but I get the idea. I ain't answering questions about who becomes a vampire, who doesn't or what have you... I will tease, but that sort of thing is an outright spoiler. And yes, I know how I wrote that denial... could be I'm playing tricks though Thanks

Astronsoul - I never had reason to doubt Willow's determination. But she's not stupid either. Everything the girls have done - good or bad - has at least made sense to them in the moment. Hindsight is 20:20, as is guilt. The message... that's a 'me' thing. I over-write stuff (you noticed right?) but the person who leaves me messages turns me to mush with about 4 words... As for when everything will be resolved... Aiming for part 300 (for the whole Sidestep). Some creative numbering of parts and a little extra padding should get me to that milestone. And like I always say... Happy and together. Cheers

SMGOVAN - Another nervous about the VW thing! I think this coming part will give a tiny hint as to Toni's mindset and motivations - without being all exposition. She shouldn't be 'liked' but 'hatred' is perhaps a little strong... I'm pleased that Willow's lack of choice is coming across or... no story! (At least she has to believe it) And I've got the first month in front of Tara... It was my idea. *HUGS*

Kajun - Stop being so danged logical... though, you're right. Once I could cheerfully have written about 15 parts to get Willow to where the next one takes her Hope what I offer is convincing though... There's an element though where the story has to progress and create the situation they really have to get out of (this isn't it yet!) But all great points you make some of which I missed and others are in there... They both have their ways to do what they need to. I think Tara's will be the more shocking and no one has spotted it or worried about it yet. (That was me teasing!) Thanks so much for the support.

Next part in a few minutes.

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicles: Third Chronicle(Part 9 & 10 (251 & 252))
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler warning: I’m really not going to bother after all this time except to say that this fic will totally spoil my own Sidestep: First Chronicle and Second Chronicle which can be found in the Completed Fics archive (A-M)
Distribution: This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens and the Kitten Board please. (This applies to all my stories, fics and particularly to Sidestep Chronicle as a whole.)
Summary: Holland discusses events with Toni and Willow finds a way…
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc. I am making no money from this series of stories however all original characters and situations remain my property.
Rating: The earlier Chronicles of Sidestep were much darker and I slapped a blanket R rating on them for occasional content. This series is lighter in tone caution is only recommended for occasional scenes. However to understand absolutely everything that went before you’d have to have read the first two fully so…
Couples: Tara and Willow forever. Rupert and Jenny are also together. Nothing else referred to.
Text convention: We’re occasionally dealing with some deaf characters here and that has to be addressed. Speech inside asterisks is spoken in sign language only. Occasionally people responding to signed speech may do so inside speech marks, which indicates that they are also verbalising as well. Occasionally I might make a mistake and get this wrong but when dealing with a character that only signs, take it as read that they’re doing so when they “speak.”
Notes: Yeah, this was two parts when I first wrote it, then I put them together as one. Then I realise that I was likely to finish on part 295 (overall) which seemed sad, so I decided I’d rather try and finish on 300… So now it’s two parts again (the way nature intended), but posted at the same time ?
Thanks to: Those who show up every post and give a attention starved writer some feedback ?

251

“Toni,” Holland said. “So nice to hear from you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Tara could teleport?” the not-at-all-electronic voice from the other end of the line said to him. There was a barely perceptible lag between every exchange of words as the machines at the other end translated the movement of Toni’s fingers into spoken words. The firm had developed it, at no little cost, to ensure that nothing was lost when Toni’s cases were unsuccessful enough that they ended up before a jury.

As it was that was quite a rare event and the contraption had found greater use in other circumstances. In the beginning there’d been those blue dots, attached to the ends of the young woman’s fingers to make it work, but now the technology had advanced enough she could stand basically anywhere facing the sensor and all he heard was… well, lets just say that Toni’s public voice was shared with an Oscar winning actress.

The first attempt, where the developer had sampled the by now quite elderly Morgan Freeman had sounded classy, but not actually plausibly like a young Italian American woman. The machine still struggled with emphasis too – and Toni could be very emphatic – but it generally got the job done.

It also happened to work over the phone. Getting her to use it… that had been a whole other matter, one of pride. Toni had come to them not willing to read lips, let alone have a machine translate their words into text she could read.

“She can teleport, hmm? A human? That must certainly have stung.”

“She’s been bleeding all over my – all over Char - she’s been bleeding all over the place,” Toni said, confusing the machine. Or perhaps that was an accurate rendering.

Holland gestured to Eric who halted their progress. Sometimes the demon could just push. “Well, I’m certain it was action taken in proportionate self-defence.” If that wasn’t the case, then the firm would absolutely make sure that it looked that way to any jury down the line.

“I didn’t shoot her, that’s just what happened when she teleported. It must’ve the stress. Why didn’t you tell me she could do that?”

“Umm, because I didn’t know?” he suggested. “Surprising as it may seem, I never really had chance to strap Tara – or her then lover and now wife – into a examination chair for a full run down of their potential, but it does surprise me.”

Toni’s ‘voice’ managed to get the right inflection to sound resigned. Wonderful thing, technology. He’d never have thought it was possible when he’d started practicing law and eight tracks had still been the thing. “I think she was surprised too.”

“Hmm,” Holland said. “Well there you go.”

He wondered, briefly, how ‘hmm’ translated itself at the other end. It hadn’t been included in the signing he’d studied as Toni’s mentor at the firm.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Honestly? Yes. So Mrs Maclay-Rosenberg has been to visit you. I have no doubt it was no more than you’d anticipated and fully intended to make use of. I trust the other rose has made good use of the time?”

“So far as I know, yes.”

“And so everything is proceeding well?”

He wasn’t being dismissive, but frankly he was retired and she was more than capable of dealing with this entire situation. Had it been anything else she’d have resented any interference that he chose to make. So… no.

“I suppose so.”

“How very nice for you. Now, if you’ll excuse me – my son’s just gone to the green on the third hole.” Not the most interesting sporting spectacle, Holland Junior wasn’t what you’d call a gifted sportsman, but having a son who wanted to involve his father at his age… he wasn’t about knock it.

“What? Don’t you want - ?”

“You can manage it, Toni. My interest was – is – purely in ensuring that you get what you’re owed. And therefore that the firm does the same. The happy fact that the two are intertwined doesn’t actually require my continued involvement.”

“But Tara - ”

“What about her?”

“She won’t let this happen – she’ll fight it all the way. She’ll try and stop it.”

“I’m sure. But, as I said, you can handle it.”

“Sir, please. You wouldn’t help me renegotiate the terms so… I’m doing this. But I think I’m due something.”

‘Sir’ now was it? And a sense of entitlement no less. All because when things had changed for her he hadn’t helped her change her agreement with the firm? She knew better than that. A contract was a contract was a contract. She’d gotten away with not selling her soul at the point she’d come to work here – not literally at least – and in a renegotiation there was little more she could’ve offered but that.

“You don’t feel you can take the necessary steps to hamper Tara?” he suggested.

“It’s not like I have a free hand. Anything else – anyone else but… not her. Not either of them.”

Holland sighed. “Sorry,” he said before she apologised. The machine would do something with that, he was sure. “Not you – my son… He’s no Jack Nicklaus.”

“Who?”

He sighed again, knowing she’d pick it up this time. “Who indeed. That sigh was for you – youngster. Very well, I’ll arrange for someone to try to keep our friend Tara off balance for a little while. Stop her from interfering too soon, at least get her looking over her shoulder instead of rushing gallantly to her wife’s side.”

“Thank you. They – they won’t hurt her will they?”

“No. They won’t hurt her.”

He cut the connection and turned to Eric. “I have a job for you.”

“I heard. No harm is to come to her?”

“Inconvenience only,” he said, wanting to make that very clear.

“Easily done.”

“Don’t bet on it,” Holland said. “In your shoes, I’d be rather more worried what she might do to you if she determines that you’re keeping her from the woman she loves.”

“How delightfully twisted,” Eric said and winked out, leaving Holland sat in his chair.

“Twisted? Neanderthal.”

The young man – though a demon of some years – thought he was going to have fun. Fine, have at it, Eric. Enjoy yourself if you can. Lord knows he’d put up with enough golf.

------------------------------

252


“I’m in an Indian burial ground. Which is just great. I thought I’d stopped spending my life in cemeteries and certainly there’s nothing at all to worry about here. No scary stories were ever written about Indian burial grounds. No sir, Mister King.”

Willow was talking to herself. She had that knack of being able to walk and talk. Besides, it stopped her feeling as vulnerable as the surroundings should’ve done. Walk, talk, chew gum, review all these documents on her PDA and try not to trip over anything. Now that was multi-tasking.

Of course it was really a ‘Native American’ burial ground but when you were searching through virtually every literary, mythological and historical reference you could find some things cropped up over and over again.

Indian burial grounds. Stephen King. Tobe Hooper. Didn’t matter who you asked, they were bad, bad news.

Except this one was a sunny glade and you wouldn’t have known what its history was by looking at it. In fact, you wouldn’t have known there was anything here at all.

“Throw a stone out of the window, you’ll hit a spot someone was buried,” she said, and it was a testimony to her own nervousness that she just kept talking. “But no, I have to come here and do battle with…” She swept back the branches of a lazy looking willow tree. A weeping willow, they called it in some places. But she really didn’t want be weeping any time soon. “With something anyway. Don’t know what. But here I am.”

“So in a Native American burial ground where would I hide a secret entrance to a Hell dimension called the Halls of the Dead?”

Brooks babbled. Willow trees blew in the wind. The long grass rustled and obviously no one answered her question.

And under her feet were thousands of years of the local people who’d fallen to the ravages of age, famine, warfare or whatever had finally done for them. Their families had brought them to what was now a beautiful place, buried them and…

“Probably set ancient curses on them that would make a housing development or a hotel a really bad idea. Especially if you wanted a pool. As for burying your pets? Uhuh. Cept, back then, the curse wasn’t ancient it was probably the new, up and coming curse of the moment. Hip.”

She paused in place; let the GPS catch up with her movements. For some reason it was lagging behind and generally playing up. Plus she only had some vague coordinates from the nineteen thirties to go on, not exactly suitable for eye of the needle type accuracy.

Back in the thirties anthropologists had discovered the burial ground, dug a little of it up and… well, they’d suffered a terrible – if coincidental – fate. “Rule one. No matter what happens, don’t start digging.”

The scientists hadn’t been looking for a gateway to Hell though.

Was that what it was? There were plenty of Hellmouths, she’d lived on one of the most active for a while. There were others dotted around the place, like plate tectonics resulted in volcanoes. But… not here.

No one reported much of anything around here.

Unless someone started digging.

Point was, that wasn’t what this was. Not a Hellmouth as such. Just a… way in to somewhere else.

So… where…? She had to figure that it was definitely down. So what was likely to be the lowest point? This was where the science – and the obvious – came into it. Water would carve its way downwards, gravity would take it there… She walked along the stream, hearing the sounds of a larger body of water as she got closer to it.

The map told her where she was. It wasn’t really what you’d call a lake but it was definitely more than a pond.

And what then?

The topographic overlay said this was the lowest point in… She zoomed out, then back in again. The lowest point for miles. And the cemetery was just over the other side of the rise. This may even have been where Native Americans might’ve chosen to take advantage of the water source but… why on earth was this lake not showing as deeper? She could spot, just from here, three or four streams flowing into it. And if that was the case and there was no obvious run off… This whole hollow should’ve been filled. It should’ve been more like one of those quarry lakes where Tara had tried diving.

Since it wasn’t… it meant there was drainage. An underwater river perhaps, which meant caves… and a way down.

She put the PDA away, walking around the shore of the lake. Some of the trees around here were fairly young, old for their species but far from ancient. Others were… there were some big old trees. And they’d certainly never been underwater, not for any length of time.

And there definitely was no apparent drainage.

So…?

“Of course, it’s under the water…”

Pulling up the legs of her jeans she pulled off her shoes and left them by the edge of the water. And with that she walked out, tracing the gradient. The water was cool, but not cold since it wasn’t deep enough. She was aiming for the part that looked particularly… well, alive. Which in water meant an abundance of microbes and yucky stuff that drew in everything that fed off it too. In other words the green slimy part.

It wasn’t really by choice, but that was where the gradient was taking her. “Of course it is. Green and slimy stuff in an Indian burial ground. I must be frigging nuts.”

It didn’t take long for the water to rise up high enough to submerge her knees, soaking her jeans despite her efforts to hold them up. “Not taking my pants off,” she said to herself. “Indian burial grounds and girls in just their underwear. Practically inviting a psycho killer or something to come out. I’m definitely pants-on-Willow.”

Besides, she could dry off soon enough if she put her mind to her. Willow rested her hand on the surface of the water and directed energy into it.

A little too much, perhaps. “Hot, hot, hot…” The water started to boil which, obviously, was uncomfortable but with a little adjustment and control of the water itself… She was left surrounded by a funnel of water, that would’ve been up to her hips but after a few minutes her pants had actually dried off and she was feeling kind of toasty. Like she’d just gotten them out of the dryer.

On the other hand her hair was going to be all frizzy as the steam welled up from the surface surrounding her.

Parting the waters might’ve been easier and less frizz-making, but it also seemed a little… biblical. She’d always tried to avoid competing with Charlton Heston. It was a losing battle and could have all sorts of unfortunate side effects if you were doing so.

This patch of the water had no business being as ‘alive’ as it appeared to be. But then there was the reputed ‘fact’ that nothing living – or entirely living – could enter the Halls of the Dead.

But water itself? That wasn’t alive. It was just a medium in which swam and floated all the things that were. So while water might seep down into the entrance – if that was what this was – keeping the level of the lake down, none of what lived in the water could actually go.

At least not until it was dead. And so all the green stuff congregated on the surface. It was a theory anyway.

With most of the water held back and what was left effectively boiled off she could see something that should never have been here. Runes. Inbued in the very rock – and why was the rock showing anyway when it should’ve been coated in silt and mud?

Maybe whatever had made them didn’t call them ‘runes’ but for lack of a better word, they were runes.

They didn’t even look carved. More... natural in the rock itself. Like a dinosaur footprint made in sand that was still visible millions of years later. That kind of thing. Forget Native American burial grounds, this was much older than that. In the end, she supposed, it may well have been just one of those places that creatures and later people came to die.

Was it how most people got to the Halls of the Dead? No. Their physical bodies were left behind in the world when their… spirits or souls were swept off to that place. But there were places – she’d been assured – where that wasn’t the case. Where the dead could enter. Physically.

Or someone who had been dead.

Though why Toni couldn’t have sent a vampire was… pretty obvious.

Vampires had no cause to do what she needed them to, not for any kind of payment. No soul to feel the pain and to empathise. No abilities beyond brute force and cruelty to get even this far. Let alone past whatever was down there. She couldn’t have paid them enough to do this. Besides, there was the very real question of whether they’d have been able to leave again.

They could easily have been caught. Living enough to go, too dead to come back.

Experimentally she pushed her toe at the black… there was no other word for it than ‘ooze.’ Like oil but blacker and radiating no heat at all even after what she’d done.

Her toe didn’t sink into the ooze, it wasn’t enveloped in it. No, rather than that it went through it.

This then was a barrier between the living world and the dead? And it tingled. Perhaps because she was alive but had once been dead? Or did it – would it – do this to anyone?

Somehow she just knew that Tara couldn’t have even gone that far though. A toe Willow had kissed many times wouldn’t have been able to penetrate into the murk.

And Tara would probably have been at a huge disadvantage. So much of her power was based in the power of the earth, in nature. And this – where her toe was now – wasn’t a place that nature existed. In fact it could well be excluded. No one really knew, but this barrier… it wouldn’t have let Tara past. She just knew it.

That was the key. It had to be her, Toni was right about that. Formerly dead girl prodding her toe through the barrier between worlds in the middle of a hole in the middle of a lake in the middle of a Native American burial ground.

“And here I was, thinking I was pretty normal now.”

From the point of view of this Hell dimension, she was normal enough. At least partially dead. And not just the hard skin on the back of her feet. All of her…

She pushed further with her foot. “Urrgh, this is nasty.”

It wasn’t like her foot was sinking into it, rather there didn’t seem to be anything beyond the membrane. But it felt icky and she was searching for some sort of footing, something to step onto. Falling to her death might’ve been fitting, but not exactly appealing.

Maybe if she hadn’t been able to find anything she’d have walked away, looked for a rope or something. But with a bit of prodding around she did indeed discover what might’ve been a step. She moved forward onto it, and then started searching for another. Her feet and her ankles through to the other side now. And cold…

Of course it was cold.

Another step. A stairway? Smooth. Her toes curled around the edge of the second step, finding it a perfect ninety degree angle, cut or carved then. Not a natural feature.

Willow bent down, pushing her hand through into the other side, feeling for something to hold onto. For some direction to the steps – did they wind? Were they straight down?

“I’m going to regret this,” she said and pushed on, stepping down and circling. Every step she took seemed faster and faster as the world above span around her.

Like she was going down the plug hole.


***********************

[Kajun]

Well, well, well.. DIBS! My first ever BTW.

Katharyn wrote: They both have their ways to do what they need to. I think Tara's will be the more shocking and no one has spotted it or worried about it yet.

Wha? Covers ears and sings La La La La! I have enough speculation going on in my noggin, thank you very much. ERK! LOL!

Stop her from interfering too soon, at least get her looking over her shoulder instead of rushing gallantly to her wife’s side.

Sooo.. WaH have anticipated, or perhaps expected out of necessity, that Tara will get involved? Another clue, methinks, that she is essential to the success of this little adventure. Yup.. not liking Toni one bit. Isn't this request for help adding to her debt? WaH don't seem the type to do anything for free. Even if it serves their own secret agenda. At least Eric was instructed not to hurt Tara. The Neanderthal is gonna get more than he bargained for. Hah. Just try and get between Tara and her woman!

Willow found the entrance really quick. You go girl! Loved the inner babble and keeping her humor under such dire circumstances. Very BTVS. Sounds weird, I know, with the master of horror, Stephen King references, but I was actually reminded of Amber's "Among The Ghosts." Especially there at the end.

And.. the plot thickens.. Ready for the next part!

[Grimm]

I hope Tara kicks the dog shit out of Eric when they cross paths. I'm afraid she will do 'anything', including dying (temporarily), to join Willow on her journey to ensure that she returns safely. Liking Toni less and less every update.

[Katharyn]

SMGOVAN - I shan't comment on the how, just yet but the next part sets Tara on her path. More to the point you will see what happens with Eric. As for Toni... you won't be seeing her for a while and when you do... well, I'm not spoiling that either. So actually I'm saying very little except 'thanks'

Kajun - Grats on the dibs

Like I was saying, I shan't tell you how yet... but it gets to the core of who Tara is.

You're still with the conspiracy theories... which doesn't make you wrong Tara's essential to anything Willow does though, and vice versa... I think that W&H would make very clear when a debt was being added to. Everything has to be above board and legal for them... But is it free? Perhaps not. Eric meets Tara in a few minutes... will post it very shortly.

It was fun to write the pop culture references into that last part. Willow would totally do the research, but then absolutely line up movies and books alongside it.

NOt actually read the Amber book, so I can't claim to have been influenced. Perhaps I was just channeling!

Thanks both of you.

Another part in a few mins.

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicles: Third Chronicle (Part 11 (253))
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler warning: I’m really not going to bother after all this time except to say that this fic will totally spoil my own Sidestep: First Chronicle and Second Chronicle which can be found in the Completed Fics archive (A-M)
Distribution: This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens and the Kitten Board please. (This applies to all my stories, fics and particularly to Sidestep Chronicle as a whole.)
Summary: Tara returns to find Willow gone but someone else in the house.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc. I am making no money from this series of stories however all original characters and situations remain my property.
Rating: The earlier Chronicles of Sidestep were much darker and I slapped a blanket R rating on them for occasional content. This series is lighter in tone caution is only recommended for occasional scenes. However to understand absolutely everything that went before you’d have to have read the first two fully so…
Couples: Tara and Willow forever. Rupert and Jenny are also together. Nothing else referred to.
Text convention: We’re occasionally dealing with some deaf characters here and that has to be addressed. Speech inside asterisks is spoken in sign language only. Occasionally people responding to signed speech may do so inside speech marks, which indicates that they are also verbalising as well. Occasionally I might make a mistake and get this wrong but when dealing with a character that only signs, take it as read that they’re doing so when they “speak.”
Notes: I had to extensively rewrite this part as – unfortunately – I’d forgotten about the cliff-hanger I left with Eric departing to delay Tara… He left and… nothing happened. Oops. This change resulted in a rearrangement of the older material with the new material being dropped into the middle. Hopefully I’ve smoothed over the cracks and it looks seamless!
Thanks to: People who spot stuff…



Tara paused as she arrived at the door to the house, took a look around even though all she wanted was to get inside. Something wasn’t quite right… But the fact that she could even tell was surprising.

She wasn’t at her best. Far from it.

Aside from the worry and the disappointment, her head still hurt and during the flight home there’d been another nosebleed – much to the alarm of the mother in the seat next to her (and the fascination of her young son) – which must’ve been something to do with the pressure changes. She wasn’t all that great when it came to flying anyway so that had just made things worse. Especially when she’d realised that she didn’t even have any tissues to stem the flow and had to borrow some from the obviously nauseated mother.

Somehow though, her own blood had always bothered her less than other people’s. Willow thought it was part of her caring nature, but she wasn’t so sure. And where was Willow anyway?

Causing her more trouble than her head though, Toni’s shoes weren’t quite the right size and had quickly cut into her feet to give her blisters. She’d taken them off every chance she got on the journey home. The barefoot woman with the bloodstained clothes and occasional flow of blood from her nose must’ve cut quite the figure moving through the airport. Still, security hadn’t paid too much attention to her.

But despite all that discomfort she could tell that there was something that was just… off.

It wasn’t Willow. At least not yet… She still had the sense of the woman she loved, somewhere, that she’d always had. Her wife was still in this reality. Still amongst the living, and that was some reassurance. Willow wasn’t here though unless the teleportation, headaches and bleeding had knocked her senses totally off…

Leaving her phone behind in the rush to get to Toni, she hadn’t been able to call Willow as often as she’d liked. To try to call Willow. But almost every public phone she’d passed on the way back she’d made a call and left messages.

With no reply, obviously.

But how was Willow supposed to call her back anyway? Better to be on the move, better to be on the way home, than to sit waiting for a call back somewhere that she knew it probably wouldn’t come. Willow was on a mission and one of its unusual parameters included avoiding the woman she’d married.

Tara knew by now she’d been tricked.

Willow and Toni would both have appeared to know what would happen once she knew who’d asked Willow to do this – and what it was she was being asked to do. They had to have known that she’d both object and then rush to confront Toni. And they’d realised that would give Willow the opportunity to do it anyway without further resistance.

Good guess they’d made. Spot on really. There weren’t many things that would have sent her charging off like that, still less teleporting – which had to have taken them by surprise – but betrayal by a member of the family…? Toni was a member of the family and this was about the worst thing she could ever have done to them without putting them in direct and more immediate danger.

It was yet to be seen how much danger there’d actually be, so much was unknown. But it was the Halls of the Dead. Tara feared the worst for what that place would be like because she didn’t have any basis for not doing that.

“Damn,” she murmured, unable to determine what felt wrong, so instead she reached up and fished above the blooms around the door for the spare key. The were no signs of the supernatural perimeter alarms being breached by anyone who didn’t live here so she could reflect on lessons learned.

Note to self, even if you’re going to teleport – not a good idea on health grounds – pick up shoes, phone and keys before leaving.

Tissues too. Because how were you supposed to stop your wife doing something fantastically stupid unless you had your shoes, could reach her on the phone and could get back into your own house? The tissues were just to stop her bleeding everywhere. Not that she had any intention of doing this again.

When she got inside the house was empty too, but she’d already known that. That sense of Willow was… further away.

Knowing it didn’t stop her hoping she was wrong about the sensation though. She actually hoped that whatever damage she’d done to herself had screwed up that particular sense. So it didn’t stop her calling for Willow, searching in every room for some sign of her wife.

But all she found was confirmation. Willow’s ‘Go bag’ was, well, gone. Everything else was neat and tidy, put away. Like someone had wanted to make sure she wasn’t being inconvenient. That she wasn’t causing any more trouble by being untidy at an inappropriate moment. That the accumulation of the little things would help balance out the honking great big thing that Willow had done – more especially by leaving now.

Tricking her. In that – if not the rest - Willow was as complicit as Toni.

That sense of unease returned as she went into their bedroom. She didn’t turn around as she felt a sudden presence trip all the perimeter alarms at once. It wasn’t Willow, that much she knew. The mystical tripwires were designed to ignore both of them, since they were well aware of each other’s presence anyway.

Also it wasn’t one of the kids or staff from the school – they were considered to live here in the ‘eyes’ of the tripwire, or any of their extended family. Even the youngest of the Giles’ clan knew how to politely signal their arrival without setting off the alarms that she’d developed for moving from motel room to motel room while hunting vampires.

So this was an intruder and she really wasn’t in the mood. Turning around, being faced with someone breaking into their home, now, would’ve just set her off. Tara considered that she had a great deal of patience, but after today… it was all gone.

“I’m tired. I’m cranky and I have a headache that would kill an elephant,” she said wearily. “Please, just give me a reason.”

A chuckle of amusement from behind her, distinctly male sounding but it didn’t feel human even though it did sound it.

“Get out of my bedroom,” she said. “I’m not going to be nice about it anymore.”

There was a faint movement of air just as she started to turn around, but that whisper didn’t seem to be coming towards her. More like something had moved away or… disappeared.

Another air disturbance, this time from behind her. The faint noise and a definite smell of… damn, it stank of the hell dimensions.

Spinning back to the way she’d been looking a moment before, Tara found she was face to face with what appeared to be a young man. It wasn’t fooling her though.

This was a teleporting demon. The precise species didn’t matter, but what it could do very much did. She’d tried teleporting earlier today and it might’ve put her in the hospital. Perhaps should’ve done. This demon had evolved into that power though. For the demon jumping that way was easier than walking.

“I told you. I’m not in the - ” It vanished again. “Mood.”

When it reappeared it was beside her, grabbing her arm and throwing her to the bed where she landed in a sprawling clatter. Her heart rate immediately spiked, adrenaline pumping. The increased blood flow was throbbing through her head, she could feel the pressure behind her eyes but strangely there was less actual pain.

The adrenaline was setting her up for what was happening. She’d just suffer it later. For now though, fight or flight mode.

She didn’t feel like running from her own house.

But fighting might make a mess after Willow had tidied up. Oh well.

Rolling off the bed, she straightened up and backed into the corner. With two sides protected, it couldn’t just wink into existence and grab her as easily. That meant that it had only one real way to come at her and the next time it appeared on her right she was going to punch it in the nose.

Right before she kicked it in the nuts.

And after that, she was going to be very reasonable about hurting it until it told her what she needed to know.

Undoubtedly it was here because of Willow, because of what she was doing. Did it want to stop her wife? Did it want to stop her? Had Toni sent it?

It nodded fractionally at the position she’d adopted and she just stood there, waiting. But not without purpose.

She was taking the available moments to consider her options. Drawing the power of air to her as the most easily manipulated element… Making a mess was one thing, but she really didn’t want to soak or burn their bedroom and growing a tree to entangle him from the wood here wouldn’t be popular with Willow either.

Not that her wife was in her good books at the moment and what Willow would approve of ranked right around… Oh, who was she kidding? Not herself, that was for sure.

Remembering a gesture from an old movie, she crooked her fingers and beckoned it to make its move. So far it didn’t seem to have any power other than teleportation, but it was a demon and it was probably stronger than she was. If its youth was any real indication then it was probably faster too. She probably couldn’t match it physically, but fortunately she didn’t have to.

She’d been doing this a long time - even though it had been a while since she’d used her powers in real anger - and she had both experience and intelligence on her side. More to the point, she was motivated and had home field advantage. She wanted it off her home field.

Responding to her challenge, it vanished again and – perhaps trying to double-bluff her – appeared on that side of her that wasn’t protected by the wall and the wardrobe. But before she could go through with her plans for its nose – or do much with the power – it was gone again.

A muted bang from the wardrobe beside her told her where it had gone and the hand that emerged to grab her again was entwined in one of Willow’s dresses. It jerked her inwards, towards the now open doors and a shower of clothes fell on top of her as she stumbled forwards.

Damn. It wasn’t too dumb itself.

Double damn. “Now I’m going to have to iron these again,” she said as it popped back into view just where it had been.

It still hadn’t spoken, but the smile was an indication that it did – in fact – understand her. Of course not many demons who didn’t speak a human language wore suits, tailored shirt and expensive leather shoes. Wolfram and Hart, for certain then.

No more messing around. She had things to do. A wife to save from her own overconfidence.

It was playing with her, but she didn’t have the impression it wanted to kill her. There was no malice behind its expression or it’s efforts. It seemed absolutely under control. Both of the attacks so far could’ve hurt her far more than they actually had without involving anything mystical.

Tara watched carefully this time, caught the closure of the eyes just as it teleported out of existence. Was that a ‘tell’ then? She counted the amount of time before that smell of a hell dimension came back…

A one-Mississippi count. Between disappearing and coming back. The closure of the eyes, perhaps to protect them from whatever was in the place that was between?

This time when it came at her she snapped a wall of thickened air all around her, shoving it outwards as hard as she could. Not paying attention to where he’d reappeared, she just reacted and this time he never laid a hand on her, forced backwards by the air. The demon vanished again as the bed jerked backward – shoved by the same wall of air – after it’s eyes had closed again before… a one count and it was back but… where?

Gravity seemed to be tardy, but it eventually took over and she realised that he was above her, falling down onto her – his weight sufficient to push that wall of air back at her when she wasn’t expecting it, collapsing her under him. But before he could actually crush her to the floor, the weight was gone.

He was gone.

In an undignified heap and covered with clothes that were still falling from the closet, Tara stood up again. Once again, he hadn’t hurt her. Not really. More like… was he trying to delay her? But for what? Minutes? That couldn’t be worth anything could it… was time already so critical?

Willow wasn’t here…

He was buying time for her.

Change of tactics then.

She was out of time and she wasn’t letting this happen. Not his way. Not their way. From now on things were happening her way. It had always worked for her in the past. Initiative was key. This time when she reached out, she settled a bubble of air around the pair of them. He wasn’t even aware of it when it closed. But she knew what she was going to do.

He came one more time. The blink. The one count. Then he was on her, grabbing her. This time she hung on tight to him, guessing - hoping – he couldn’t get away without her if she was holding onto him. More importantly she pulled the bubble much tighter around them.

He was breathing harder now. He was breathing. He needed air just like she did.

With a firm grip on him, she forced the air from the bubble, maintaining it by will rather than physical laws. The air thinned, but she was fine as she routed the necessary gases to her own lungs. That was the scientific version of something that was, in fact, pure instinct. She wanted it to happen and… it did.

It was something she and Willow had discovered and toyed with on their honeymoon. Snorkelling without snorkels. Pressure was a different matter; you couldn’t use it to dive without knowing what you were doing or you might do some damage but that… this? Yes. Compared to breathing underwater, this was child’s play.

It took him a while to realise that he was losing the air, maybe he didn’t understand what she was doing, but he tried to get her off him all the same. No way. Tara had fastened her arm around his and then was clinging tightly to her own wrist with the other hand. They were linked like a chain. He was going no where without her and he wasn’t getting so much as a breath until he let her go and left her alone.

Even if that meant knocking him out to make it happen.

She recognised the flaw in the plan when suddenly she was assaulted by flares of light coming out of a strange, unnatural darkness. She could feel the heat, even if she was insulated from it by the bubble of air that she was maintaining. They’d left the bedroom; they were in a Hell dimension…

Which didn’t matter, any was bad enough.

Then, just as fast, she felt the cold as – abruptly – she found herself barefoot on the ice, snow driving against the bubble around them. But she held onto it, refusing to let the construction go. Pure dumb luck had given her the insulation that she needed from both the destination and the route taken by his teleportation. It was a toss up which she was giving more concentration to, but she had to maintain her grip on both him and the bubble.

Holding the bubble protected her and starved him of air. Holding onto him stopped him jumping away without her and leaving her in this unforgiving landscape.

She could tell from his struggles that he was starting to get desperately short of air, panicking. It was something she’d seen before. Even felt for herself. Oxygen deprivation wouldn’t hurt or damage him permanently for some time yet – relatively speaking – but the burning in the lungs and more than that the panic of not being able to do the most ordinary thing in the world set in much faster.

“Take us back,” she said, through gritted teeth. He gulped, as if trying to breathe in the air she’d used to speak. “Take us back and promise to leave, not harming me and I’ll let you breathe.”

He nodded, after she repeated it again. But a nod wasn’t enough. Not dealing with a demon sent by lawyers. She’d believe his word if he gave it. Many demons could be trusted that far – except vampires of course – even if they were tricky about their verbal contracts.

Almost lawyerly you might say…

“Say it,” she said and gave him a little air. Her feet, slightly protected by bubble, were still chilling fast. It was cold enough to burn them…

“I promise.”

Tara released a little more air and allowed him to breathe, but she didn’t let go of his arm. He wasn’t likely to break his freely given word to take her back, but she’d already realised that what she’d asked for hadn’t been well considered. Maybe he hadn’t realised it though, not seen that he could kill her here and take her back if he wanted and still – arguably – be within the terms of his promise. “So do it.”

Cold vanished and they were back in that blackness, the heat was doubly intense after where they’d just been and she didn’t want to imagine what it would’ve been like without the bubble to protect them.

A common version of what hell was supposed to be like, she supposed. Even though it was just one of the myriad of so-named dimensions and some were quite ordinary places, at least by the standards of this world they occupied. ‘Hell’ was a strange concept, but this was certainly one that many classical artists of the past few hundred years would’ve recognised.

But then they were back in her bedroom and far from letting go, she pushed herself away from him at the same instant she fully relaxed the bubble.

With a pad of cushion of thickened air between them – she was going to have to think of something more effective if bad guys were going to come into their bedroom now – she glanced down at her bare feet and didn’t find even a chip in her nail-polish, let alone frostbite or charring.

Which was an improvement on how the rest of the day had gone.

“Now go.”

“Don’t you want to know who sent me?” he asked.

“I know who sent you and I probably know why,” she said. “It doesn’t matter right now. I have to go get my wife.”

At the very instant that he nodded, almost respectfully and vanished, Tara knew. Just knew. Something had changed…

Willow was gone.

She wanted to howl. She wanted to scream. But only the certain knowledge that her wife wasn’t dead held her back. Willow was just… somewhere else. Not dead. She felt the absence in a way she never had before, not even when her wife had been knocked out to have her appendix operated on. But Willow wasn’t dead. She’d have known if it was that.

Somewhere else… And there was only one valid guess as to where that was.

Damn her, she’d already gone and the absence of Willow in her mind was scarier than the intruder had ever managed to be.

As Tara struggled to get her emotions under control the wooden fabric of the house strained to be of use to her. The whole thing creaked and the door frame burst into bloom, throwing off its deadness and remembering what it had once been. A living tree with leaves and occasionally flowers to attract the pollinators. Outside the wind started to pick up and wove its way through the house to her, another sure sign that she was losing it. It took long seconds of deep breaths for her to get that under control.

Left with no other choice – she couldn’t just curl up and cry – she had to push on. When she finally got to her phone, she found two messages waiting for her.

‘Sorry.’

And an afterthought. ‘I love you.’

“Oh, Willow…”

Knowing it was futile, Tara tried calling her wife, but she couldn’t be connected at the present time. Yeah, they probably didn’t have much by way of cell coverage in the Halls of the Dead. There was no question it was where Willow had gone.

“Damn, stupid witch,” she murmured. But was she talking to herself or to the absent Willow?

Willow wasn’t stupid.

But she was, for rushing off like that. It wasn’t like her at all. But what was she supposed to do? Leaving Willow alone had just given her the opportunity to do what she’d been asked to though.

It’d removed the voice telling her not to do it. The only one she might have listened to.

And Willow didn’t need damning to get to hell. She was already there.

Tara looked at the phone again. ‘I love you.’

Yes, and that was why she couldn’t let this stand. Couldn’t just sit here and wait.

She had her own ‘Go bag’ but this time she was going to do things right. No more making mistakes. She was going to make arrangements about the school, make sure she had what she needed and then…

Then she was going to get Willow back.

As for the ‘how’, all she had right now were ideas.

She’d make one of them work though.

**************

[Kajun]

Katharyn, I’m really enjoying the quick pacing and frequent updates! I’m sure Eric was surprised by Tara’s ability to get the upper hand. Hee hee. That was pretty smart thinking. So will Tara help Willow from the living side, or try to join her in the Halls of Death? To join Willow without actually dying, she would have to trick everyone there into completely believing she was dead. Mask her heartbeat and use the oxygen spell for starters. Then there’s the soul and probably other things that, any hint of, create a giant neon, “I’m Alive!!” sign. If it’s even possible, Tara will find a way. This all makes me wonder how Willow is going to bring Toni’s father back. Will she need to pull a reversal and trick the Dead into believing he’s alive so they will force him to leave? Bargain for his release? Sneak him out the trap door? Or has WaH already arranged his release and she is merely a guide back to the living world? Feel free to answer any/all of these questions. LOL. Just kiddin’, I can wait for the story to tell me!

At least I spotted this:

“Damn… Double Damn…”

You’re channeling Amber’s Chance now too.

[Katharyn]

It may just be me and thee now Miss Moderator Fantastico so I will invest the time in a suitable response to your questions. Since I can't spoil everything and you've taken a scattergun approach to the thing I may just have to tease. Woe is me.

The Eric scene, as previously admitted, was probably always meant to be there. I just forgot about it and had to add it in when doing the redraft pass. I wanted to remind / show readers that Tara is bad-ass (even for a someone I think is also a breast gal ) but without turning it into this whole sub-plot. In and out. That worked better as much because I was moving Willow so fast. Had she needed more time I think Tara might well have found herself hiking back from northern Canada or something.

Their approach to magic is fun when I explain it too. I think that its a merger of Tara and Willow. Tara just knows that magic works and doesn't think about it scientifically at all. (In fact she would probably say you shouldn't look at science for it) but living with Willow... well of course they're going to experiment and/or try to explain what they do.

I will say this because I think I already hinted at it anyway. Tara is going on a trip and she's going after Willow. She just has to find a way to do that. Bear in mind that Willow isn't actually 'dead'. She's getting in on a technicality having previously been dead. I don't get too much into the mythology of 'the Halls of the Dead' and not because I don't want to. I'd rather leave it unexplained because there's no character there who knows everything anyway, but also I think that it can touch a raw nerve. We all (readers and writers) have reason to look at our mortality through friends, loved ones and family. I can't just write 'it's hell' or 'it's X religion's version of heaven' without hacking off some readers (and I assume there are some others out there!) So though Tara has to meet certain criteria to get there, and the living will face some obstacles when spotted amongst the 'already-dead', I don't get OTT about it.

As for the other questions, they are a bit too on the nose for me to consider answering and spoiling so far in advance!

I am not sure that 'Damn... Double Damn' came from Chance, BTW. I mean, I am sure it did but I don't think it originated there. It wasn't whacky races was it? No, that was 'drat'... I was thinking of something else than chance though (my signature notwithstanding!)

Thanks so much, hope you enjoy that teasing

Katharyn

[edob]

no net for a few days, ditto to what kajun asks:)

more please.

i will be here to the end, your story telling is beyond awsome:) i am a reader, not a writer or huge feedback person. anxiety issues abound.

[Katharyn]

Well thank you edob

I will be posting the next part tomorrow morning before being without the net myself for a few days (3G wireless is about the poorest performing thing I've ever purchased, especially out in the countryside)

What the heck do you have anxiety about when it comes to feedback?! If you just prefer to lirk, that's cool but don't be anxious! Not many of us bite (cept in good ways)

Katharyn

[Kajun]

Katharyn, Hee.. I can take a little ribbin’ . Hmm.. I don’t know where the double damn originated either.. I just always think of Chance when I hear or read it. Shows the influence of Amber’s art, eh? Like BTVS. I can’t watch a single episode of Tru Blood without thinking, “Hey, I saw this and that and that too on Buffy. Did she write this pre-Buffy or what?” It’s like the Slayer show on steroids. Anyhoo.. if I thought any of the craziness running through my head was spot on.. I wouldn’t have posted it and possibly spoil other readers --Trust me, they are still here! Maybe I should keep it all to myself??!! My next post might just say more please! I know you won't mind it short and sweet!

Hey there, edob.. love your Tigger! I totally get the feedback anxiety. I think there’s a self-imposed pressure to respond in length and quality to a writer. Especial one you admire. Enjoying a story doesn’t mean you automatically think of something “worthwhile” to say though. Look at my ramblings. LOL! But, most writers would be just as happy to have a simple thumbs up letting them know people are still reading. I’m trying to be more consistent with leaving feedback. Whatever happens though.. I’ll definitely be reading and enjoying this one to the Fin. I’m sure you will be along for the ride too!

[Katharyn]

Consider also the pressure to actually GET and KEEP people reading! That's a different one. I am blase (can't find accent here!) about posting a fic, that's old news. The real pressure for me now is giving people what they want or perhaps more NOT giving them what they don't want. I've screwed that up a couple of other times in other fics and seen the tumbleweeds roll by. Actually, that's a good thing and reflects well on Kittens because anywhere else on the interwebs it'd turn into flames but you guys are better than that...

So thanks to you all for showing I am at least marginally on track.

And edob I probably sounded a little weird about that anxiety, what I meant was that this is the safest place. Kittens are great, whether they're writers or readers. You don't have to be anxious about what other people think here. If you do, then put yourself in the comfortable place by all means. But whoever you're reading, they love to know you're there Just because we CAN wax lyrical about the more verbose reader's feedback, doesn't mean it's worth any more or less than a few words which is why I like to acknowledge everyone who does choose to post (as well as the lurkers) because that is the other thing that is great about Pens - the community. I've refused to archive on several sites over the years because these stories belong here, with the comments of the readers who help shape them. So do what you're comfy with.

Katharyn

[wayland]

Hi Katharyn,

I'm enjoying the story. I like the way the plot is developing and the way I'm getting to know your Willow and Tara. Like edob, I was puzzled by Toni, so I was glad that Willow also finds her obsession hard to fathom. I was beginning to worry that I didn't know enough of her backstory to understand her, so I'm happy that at this point, the reader isn't meant to be in full possession of the facts.

[Grimm]

Ole ye of little faith! " It may just be me and thee now Miss Moderator Fantastico "... Katharyn, how could you!!??!! After all my shameless begging and unabashed statements of love for all things Sidestep, How could you think I would ever abandon you? I loved the update. I wish Tara would have smacked Eric around a bit more to work out her frustrations. I also ditto all of Kajun's questions. How on earth will Tara get into the Halls if she is not/ has not been dead? What will Toni's Dad be when he returns? Alive? Dead-ish?... I also love the twice a week updates (and hope they continue). I read Sidestep one and two all in one sitting. So, it's hard for me to be patient.

[Katharyn]

Okay, okay I was feeling needy LOL

Wayland - I have to try and remember that some/most people have not read Sidestep 1 and 2. Toni only comes into it in Sidestep 2 really, but you can pretty much get away with reading the epilogue to that if you want to catch up most things. There are some earlier chapters that are relevant, but not essential. I do have to remember though!

SMGOVAN - Ole ye? That's the old English/Spanish version?

Tara could've smacked Eric around some more but I'd written myself into a corner and it was a small enough thing I didn't need to extricate myself. I mean, she couldn't let him go or he'd jump away so short of killing him through lack of air what could she do? Updates will continue at the same sort of pace as we are now, bar maybe an extra day or two before the next one (after the one I'm about to post) due to slipping away to a place where there are trees, cows and not much by way of internet for the weekend. I've just redrafted part 40-something so I've plenty in hand. Unfortunately being a feedback whore means I can't just dump the whole thing on you. I mean, I could but then what would I do?

Thanks

Katharyn

[Katharyn]

Title: The Sidestep Chronicles: Third Chronicle(Part 12 (254))
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler warning: I’m really not going to bother after all this time except to say that this fic will totally spoil my own Sidestep: First Chronicle and Second Chronicle which can be found in the Completed Fics archive (A-M)
Distribution: This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens and the Kitten Board please. (This applies to all my stories, fics and particularly to Sidestep Chronicle as a whole.)
Summary: Willow heads deeper to the Halls of the Dead.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc. I am making no money from this series of stories however all original characters and situations remain my property.
Rating: The earlier Chronicles of Sidestep were much darker and I slapped a blanket R rating on them for occasional content. This series is lighter in tone caution is only recommended for occasional scenes. However to understand absolutely everything that went before you’d have to have read the first two fully so… Slight caution for language in this one though.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever. Rupert and Jenny are also together. Nothing else referred to.
Text convention: We’re occasionally dealing with some deaf characters here and that has to be addressed. Speech inside asterisks is spoken in sign language only. Occasionally people responding to signed speech may do so inside speech marks, which indicates that they are also verbalising as well. Occasionally I might make a mistake and get this wrong but when dealing with a character that only signs, take it as read that they’re doing so when they “speak.”
Notes: Just to be very clear. Willow isn’t dead. I can’t say that loud or often enough… There’s been a little bit of worry that she is outside the thread. Not dead. Never doing that to the girls. She’s just seeing dead people (or hearing them here!) More of the Haley Joel Osmont role than the Bruce Willis one. Also, she has hair.
Thanks to: Someone who once took a chance and knows who she is.



“Why, oh why, did I expect anything else but slime?” Willow asked as she slipped for the third time. She was taking more care now though, after the first one had seen her grazing her back and juddering down more steps than she wanted to count.

Could’ve been worse. There might be a lot of steps to hell and she’d only slipped down about five of them. The winding stairway had – fortunately – stopped her fall and left her with wounded pride, bruises and no doubt mussed up clothes. Better than broken bones. An injury like that, so far down these steps, well that would’ve been very, very bad.

Evidently the mystical barrier above hadn’t been intended to be waterproof. It was just supposed to be life proof. One way or another that had kept most slippery things out of the water and thus off the steps but by no means all. It’d been flowing down here and there wasn’t a part of the spiraling descent that was dry. More to the point there was water far above her – once she’d released her hold on it - that was seeping in once more.

Once in every twist of the steps it was like taking a shower in a hotel room where the water pressure really, really sucked.

And when she’d slipped it’d started to flow over the steps and down her neck, leaving her shivering. That was something else; it’d been immediately cold down here. Okay, so she was descending through rock and was under the surface of lake too but it was a warm day in a warm month and the change in temperature had been more sudden than turning the AC on full.

“But what did I expect?” she murmured to herself. “I’m somewhere else now.”

Of course it wasn’t beyond her to both warm herself up and to cast some light on the situation. She could dry herself out too. A flame in the palm of her hand was her main source of light; every so often she heated up some rock to get warm.

It was a good job about the light though because… well, there was none down here. She’d been in dark places before, sewers and the like, but never anywhere as dark as this had immediately gotten when the barrier blocked out the light.

Again, entirely within expectations. Just so long as nothing chest height, muttering about a ‘precious’ sneaked up on her and told her a riddle then she was golden.

She was ready for this. Equipped – in a manner of speaking.

And she was also pretty miserable.

There was a part of her that appreciated what was happening to her as an intellectual process. Unease had quickly given way to self-doubt and thence to despair that she had to fight against, memories of Tara helped enormously, otherwise she’d have headed back up or maybe just curled up and froze to death in the icy water.

She knew what it was. She was ‘descending’ into the one place from which there was supposed to be no return. Experimentally she’d tried walking up one of the steps, just to see if there was some sort of mystical block on it. Turned out that any one step – up or down – had been pretty much like any other.

But she was willing to bet that – for the dead – the portal above, in the centre of that shallow lake, would be as impenetrable as it was for the purely living from above. Which raised the question of just what she was supposed to do about that when the time came to get what Toni wanted out of here… And whether it’d let her pass the other way.

Logic said ‘yes’, but this wasn’t a place built on logic. Maybe she should’ve tested that before she came down all this way?

So she was dead enough to down in this direction. Was she alive enough not to be able to go the other way? To get out of here? Those kinds of doubts had set in quickly enough down here and – especially when she slipped – her breathing had gotten to the point she was almost hyperventilating. Which had it’s own problems.

Willow didn’t think it was a ‘punishment’ or a ‘torment’ as – generally – that wasn’t what the ‘hell dimensions’ were about. They were just… places. Places that were far away from the real world, difficult to leave and not exactly ‘designed’ for human habitation. That could make them miserable places to be, for sure. And their inhabitants weren’t usually all that friendly because, lets face it, what kind of reaction did a demon coming to their world through the Hellmouth get?

Certainly she and Tara hadn’t been taking them to dinner and a show.

And if the inhabitants of these places were known to eat people, humans did just fine at eating all sorts of things in their own world that probably wouldn’t have been too happy about it if they’d been able to say so.

The point was, what people tended to call ‘hell’ was just a place – even if it closely resembled Dante’s version of things.

Okay, it was a place that she really didn’t want to be but she had no choice in that and she was here now so… “Time to get on with it, Willow.”

The strange thing was that her memories of the time when she’d been dead – there was really no other way to put it – were two fold. The first were the terrible memories of what the vampire had done back in their world, up above her or wherever ‘Earth’ really was. Memories of what she’d done to Tara.

But there was another awareness, that was all she could call it really. An awareness of… permanent nothing. Nothing to touch. Nothing to hear. Nothing to see or taste. Nothing but… an awareness of self.

Either would’ve been enough to drive her out of her mind. Both, re-integrated with what had come before death and after it...? Without Tara’s care she’d have been left a gibbering mess. And not at all figuratively.

But neither of those sets of memories involved this place though.

Sure, the tunnels under Sunnydale had been rocky but – outside of the sewer system – not at all slimy. And this was far from ‘nothingness’ as she’d experienced in her previous state of being dead. This was… different.

Eighty minutes – so her watch said when she passed her flaming hand over it – of walking down steps. StairMaster had nothing on this place. Eighty minutes of guarding against slipping in the slime.

Eighty minutes of descent into… wherever she was. Somewhere, not actually ‘under’ the real world.

The Halls.

She picked it out first through her hearing. The change in the auditory surroundings. Perhaps it was the movement of air below, perhaps it was a mass of real ‘voices’ somewhere off in the distance. Obviously her mind chose to imagine a sea of moaning, like zombies. But that wasn’t how it seemed to her…

An open space. Moving air, that was it. A big… open space. Sure, there was something down there but it was the space that she could ‘hear’ more than anything at the moment.

The next sign was light. But not behaving as you’d expect. Not sunlight, not some great source illuminating the place. And not fire either, she knew fire and this wasn’t it.

More of a dull, throbbing glow. Bluish in tone which was also unusual. Like… light filtered through great amounts of ice? No… it wasn’t getting any colder than it already was.

And she was still descending. But at least now there was – proverbially – light at the end of the tunnel. Something to aim at and judge distance against.

“I need to work out more,” Willow muttered as her thighs and calves burned. Stopping to rest wasn’t much of an option, perched as she was on slippery steps and with the flow of water sitting down on one was not only messy but cold and wet too. And could these low rider jeans Tara insisted she was hot in (but getting too old for) be any better at channeling that water right… well, where she didn’t want it.

It was perhaps a further twenty minutes before the descent took her to the point that she could start to make out a little more of where she was going. Rather than a glow she could see what were probably movements, causing shadows and thus flickering.

The sounds had coalesced too. Not just the sense of space or the movement of air, but not the groaning of the zombie nation either. Rather… lots and lots of voices all murmuring at once. No one word was distinct and even if it had been it was submerged into the to morass of the rest of them. It was easy to imagine every conversation ever held, all overlaid on top of each other by a demonic sound engineer. Constant chattering, whispering. Threatening. Seductive. Casual. Irreverent.

Everything.

As she descended the sound didn’t so much get louder as more and more incessant. More and more obvious. THX couldn’t hold a candle to this surround sound. It filled her mind just as it filled the air. The air itself – and she was pleased that was still ‘fresh’ – reverberated to a million vibrations. A million voices. More and more and more… indistinct but impossible to avoid or ignore.

Meanwhile the light, the flickering of shadows formed into more distinct shapes. Huge and unknowable. Smaller and familiar. Creatures. People. Then those fell apart and were proven to be as nebulous as clouds. Shapes rather than reality.

But it was the voices that were the worst. Words started to stand out as she descended, but in different voices. Different languages, some that she didn’t even recognise. Most even. A single snippet of dozens of conversations at the same time – and more in the background. Bad words. Good words. Words she didn’t recognise. Demon languages? French. Spanish. English and Japanese.

Love. Fenetre. Employment. Hate. Cerveza. Breakfast. Rugby. North. Fuck.

Men. Women. Children. Old people.

An endless torrent of nonsense, filling her. Surrounding her. Like a sandstorm, it was hard to put one foot in front of the other in the face of the barrage. Words had a pressure and more and more it was holding her back while the shapes formed around her in the shadows. Vampires. Things with giant wings. Men with flowers? Women with guns and pointy thing.

It was the shadows that were whispering, it wasn’t coming from the space ahead – it was all around her already but there was nothing to bat away. Nothing to purify with some cleansing fire.

Goal! Caution. Vodka. Niet. Trolley. Desire. Emergency. Train. Dot-com. Fluoresce. Karaoke. Buy!

Eventually, brought to a stand still with the bottom of the stairway in sight, Willow tipped her head back and screamed at them. “Shut up!” Her hands blazed, ready to burn the lot of them – drown out the words with the sweetness of her fire.

Eliminate the shadows with her flames.

And everything went silent.

She was left alone in the dim light.

***********