by AntigoneUnbound » Thu Jul 03, 2003 12:29 am
Gods Served and Abandoned
Disclaimers: There once were two beautiful ladies,
Whose creator was bound straight for Hades.
If I could but own them
I’d adore and enthrone them—
Perhaps along the banks of the Euphrates.
Spoilers: Up to season 5. I’ve played slightly with the timing of a certain Big Bad’s appearance, with some implications for Dawn’s entrance.
Rating: R for now; if it changes, I’ll give heads-up.
Distribution: Sure, with acknowledgement.
Feedback: It’s what’s for dinner!
**********
Part 34
Note: In this chapter, I actually employ two points of view. This is something of a departure, as I usually employ one narrator—either Willow or Tara—and stick to that. For purposes of this chapter, however, I’m going multiple and I have to say, I’m so excited I could just wet myself.
**********
I could get used to having her here. She’s funny; she’s bi; she supports me…
She’s family.
The idea of having a living relative who was loving and emotionally accessible was so appealing that it almost hurt. Because if she let herself get used to it, she could lose it.
Or I could end up with someone in the Venn diagram of families who actually falls into my "Family of Origin" and "Family of Choice" circles. It’s a crazy thought, but it just might work…
They were having dinner again, the three of them. It amazed her, really, how easily her aunt fit into their world…Except for that little part about living on a Hellmouth and fighting the evil undead with a regularity that rivaled her menstrual cycle.
She had gotten so accustomed to censoring herself in front of her family that she didn’t doubt her ability to hide this from Beverly; what disconcerted her was how much she didn’t want to hide this from her.
Tara had insisted on pizza tonight, because she knew that Beverly would pay for dinner again and though she didn’t doubt her aunt’s sincere wish to do so, years of self-sufficiency had made her loathe to accept too much from other people—even those people who loved her.
She edged slowly out of the conversation between her aunt and Willow—not because she wasn’t interested in it, but because she simply wanted to watch them, and delight in them. They were talking about computers, and to Tara, it sounded something like this:
Beverly: "Well, my Mac has a megasaurus, enough hurts to zip a ram, and I can drive down the load with a pentagon processor."
Willow: "Yeah, but PC’s give a bite and let you grade up and besides, my Internet axis is just unbelievable."
Beverly turned to her. "What do you think, Tara?"
"I think that computers are over-rated," she shrugged. "I mean really—what’s so special about them?" Taking in their simultaneous gasps, she smiled. "I was hoping to make your heads spin all the way around on your necks, but abject horror will suffice."
"OK, so enough with the geek brigade," Willow grudgingly acknowledged. "We can discuss politics and movies and literature."
"Did you ever think about what else Shakespeare might have been able to accomplish if the Web had been available then?" Beverly asked, shaking her head.
Tara was spared a lengthy discussion on this very speculation by the unexpected appearance of Buffy and Dawn. She felt a rush of what she belatedly recognized as pride: pride at the thought of introducing a family member to her friends. It wasn’t a feeling with which she had a great deal of familiarity.
Willow hadn’t seen them yet, but as Tara put her hand on Beverly’s arm to get her attention, she realized that her aunt was already looking at the two sisters.
Later that night she would wonder if she had really seen anything or not. In that moment, though, she could have sworn that she saw her aunt flinch.
Not dramatically, and not for long.
But in that ephemeral half-moment between reflex and social propriety, Beverly flinched. And Tara, for the life of her, had no idea why.
And then her aunt was looking at her with her usual expression of warmth and affection. "What is it, Sweetie?"
"I—I just saw two friends come in. Buffy and Dawn," she added, looking at Willow. "I’d like you to meet them."
"Cool," Willow said as Tara raised her arm to catch the sisters’ attention.
"Hey kids—and young-ish adult," Buffy quickly amended as she caught sight of Beverly.
"Buffy, Dawn—this is my Aunt Beverly. Beverly, I’d like you to meet Buffy and Dawn Summers."
"Hey, Willow told me you had come to visit—all the way from Dallas, no less," Buffy smiled warmly, shaking the hand offered her. The handshake was cut short by Dawn elbowing in front of her sister.
"You’re Tara’s aunt? You knew her when she was little? That is so cool," Dawn said excitedly. Tara studiously avoided Willow’s eyes, knowing that a smirk was glinting there and choosing to forego the visual verification.
"Oh, I know many secrets of the great, the inimitable Tara Maclay," Beverly intoned. "But I am sworn to secrecy, and would certainly never dream of sharing baby pictures unless Tara were adequately incapacitated by spirits."
"If we get her drunk, you’ll open the scrap-book?" Buffy echoed. "OK, let’s go. Dawn, you’ll stick with root beer."
"Who needs booze?" Dawn retorted. Nodding conspiratorially to Beverly, she added, "I’m more of a free-baser gal."
"There will be no drunkenness, no illicit drug use, and no sharing of ill-advised infant photos, is that clear?" Tara asked, trying to sound authoritative.
"Oh, look at you. So…dominant," Willow grinned. "Hubba, and, may I just add, hubba."
The five talked casually for a few minutes, and then Buffy and Dawn moved off to their own table, the former far more readily than the latter. Tara noticed that Beverly’s eyes never left them.
"Hey—we meant to ask you," Willow said abruptly. "There’s a big multicultural fair tomorrow on campus. It should be really cool. We’re definitely going, and we wanted to see if you’d like to join us."
Beverly pulled her gaze away from the retreating pair, and smiled at Willow. "That sounds great."
*****
I could get used to having her here. She’s funny; she’s bi; she supports Tara.
Willow smiled as she thought of the singular illumination that a relative provides on someone you love. She was greatly enjoying Beverly in and of herself; what sent Willow to the very last stop on the Gleeful Express, though, was hearing about Tara from her aunt. Beverly had helped Willow see Tara as a baby, as a child—and Willow, for her part, simply fell more deeply in love with Tara with every story she heard.
Besides, it was obvious that Tara felt a connection with her aunt that she hadn’t felt with any relative since her mother had died…not her half-sister, not her half-brother, not the man who raised her. Willow found herself wondering how much two tickets to Dallas would cost them. She would love to meet the woman whom Beverly clearly adored.
She looked at her watch: 2:13. Tara and Beverly were supposed to meet her at this booth at 2:00. What was keeping them? She scanned over the crowd once more and sighed. Patience is a virtue, right?
Well, she might as well be comfortably virtuous. She dropped onto a bench a few feet away from the booth.
*****
"This is such a great idea, Sweetie," Beverly smiled. "And thanks for the baklava, by the way."
"That’s the way of the bi," Tara replied, grinning at her own joke over Beverly’s groans. "I’m glad you wanted to check this out," she added. "Sometimes Sunnydale looks like one giant slice o’ white, upper-middle-class pie, but we really do have a little diversity here."
"That surprises me," Beverly mused. "I should think southern California would have a lot of diversity."
"I know. It’s totally whacked." Tara sipped contentedly on her lemonade. Contentment, though, turned abruptly to consternation as she realized that she had left her billfold at the booth they’d departed several minutes ago. Glancing at her watch, she saw that they were already ten minutes late.
"Aunt Bev, I have to go back to that last food place. I left my wallet there. Willow’s such a paragon of punctuality—I hate to keep her waiting even more. Can you go on ahead and meet her? Just follow this sidewalk. It winds around a little bit, but it’s only about two hundred or so yards up ahead."
"If I can navigate Dallas rush hour traffic, I can handle this," Beverly assured her. "I’ll see you in a few minutes."
*****
Where are they? I’m tired of being virtuous.
Then she felt long, graceful fingers twining gently through her own. She grinned, marveling at the way her heart invariably picked up its pace whenever she saw Tara after an absence.
"Hey Baby," she said, turning, but it wasn’t Tara who sat smiling back at her. And her heart pounded more fiercely now.
"This seat taken?"
*****
I’m coming, Sweetie. Remember—patience is a virtue.
She hoped that her aunt had made it to the meeting place without incident. Then she smiled. If the worst thing that happened to her today was that she and her beloved wandered through a cultural fair looking for her aunt, who loved and supported her, then she was in pretty good shape.
Every now and then, life really did ante up and give you a taste of the good stuff.
*****
"Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not my type." The smile was almost sincere.
Oh goddess. Please—not this. God, anything but this.
"See, I’m actually partial to blondes—myself, most of all. I mean, look at me." Glory shrugged as if her radiance spoke for itself. "But there’s another blonde that I’m just ever so captivated by right now." She leaned closer to Willow and winked. "You know who I’m talking about, right? You have…special feelings for her too, don’t you?"
What does she want? What’s she talking about? Goddess, help me.
"I would offer to share—I know that open relationships aren’t for everyone, but if all parties are mature, I believe they can work. The thing is, I’m not sure what will be left when I’m done." Glory shook her head thoughtfully. "Anyway, you can help me find her, can’t you? I went to her room, but she wasn’t there. I thought I’d find her with you; instead, you’re sitting here all alone." She peered closely at Willow, who wondered dimly if this was how rabbits felt, staring frozenly into the fathomless dark eyes of the hawk.
"Did you two Sapphic sweethearts have a fight? Is that why she’s not here?" Glory’s face softened incongruously as she reached out and caressed Willow’s cheek with the back of her hand. "Are you sitting all alone because your Tara is angry with you?"
Fighting past the terror that threatened to paralyze her, Willow stared back at Glory—and then slowly nodded her head.
*****
OK, I love all the costumes and the musicians and the general merriment, but do there have to be so many people right in front of me?
Tara found it almost impossible to move beyond a glacial pace, edging to the left and then the right as one throng after another seemed to walk almost intentionally into her path.
So now, maybe, a little lesson in patience for me.
Besides, the delay only heightened the payoff—that rush that she always felt when she was about to see Willow.
Good things come to those who are forced to wait.
*****
Glory gazed at her with something that looked freakishly like sympathy. "Oh, my poor weeping Willow…Sitting on a bench, waiting for her wench." She sighed. "These lovers’ quarrels can be so difficult." Then her gaze hardened as she abruptly gripped Willow’s lower jaw. "So maybe you should give her a little payback. Maybe you should settle the score for whatever she did to upset you."
She released Willow suddenly, and leaned back against the bench, smoothing her silky red dress over her legs. She looked at Willow once again, and this time Willow saw that her eyes were glittering. They were like cats’ eyes, simultaneously mesmerizing and predatory. "Do you want to tell Auntie Glory all about it? Do you want to tell her where she could find that mean girlfriend who hurt you so much?"
Willow finally forced herself to speak. "Why do you want Tara?" It came out as a whisper.
Glory looked at her indulgently, as if she were a child asking a painfully self-evident question. "Sweet, slow Willow…Tara’s my Key, of course."
Her own quick intake of breath sounded to her ears like wind roaring through trees, and she blurted as if stung, "Tara’s not the Key."
Glory frowned at her in rebuke. "I should have expected that you’d try to mislead me, even if you two have had a little malentendu. Really, though—lying is just so…common." She seized Willow’s hand once more. "Now, the unfortunate thing is that I’m starting to lose my patience, because I really didn’t put on enough sunscreen for this kind of weather. I went with 4, and I need at least 15. So tell me, little witch, before I get ungracious—where’s your girlfriend?"
"I’m serious," Willow breathed through her panic. "It’s not Tara."
Glory looked at her skeptically for a moment. "You do seem awfully convincing. In my experience—and I have a lot of it, mind you—undiluted terror has a negative effect on a person’s ability to lie with any degree of verisimilitude." She leaned over suddenly and threw her arm around Willow’s shoulder, squeezing quickly. "Isn’t that a great word? I learned it in hell."
"I’ll be sure to use it in my next paper," Willow managed. Tara, Baby—can you hear me? Oh God, Sweetheart—run! Get as far away from here as you can.
"So now Willow—you’ve practically convinced me that Tara isn’t my Key." Glory smiled at her with what must have been her version of affection. "And I think we’re closer for having shared this honest exchange."
"We—we should have coffee sometime." Tara? Run, Baby. If you can hear me—run.
*****
If you can hear me—run.
The voice crashed forcefully into Tara’s head. Willow—Willow was in danger, and she was trying to warn her.
For the first time in her life, Tara pushed her way through other people, heedless of their feelings or common courtesy.
As if I would ever leave you, Willow…
*****
Glory threw her head back and laughed. "Coffee—oh yes! It’s just about the only thing this wretched little dimension has going for it. So many options, so much ambience." She squeezed Willow’s shoulders once more. "So—if it’s not Tara, who is it?"
Goddess, what do I do? Help me.
"See, if you do me a favor," Glory was saying, "I’ll do you a favor. Tell me who the Key is, and I’ll let you go and I won’t even bother talking to Tara."
Could I do it? Could I betray two people I love to save the one I love most of all?
Glory’s face turned suddenly dark with fury. "I thought we were friends, little Willow. I thought we understood each other. What’s with the delay tactics? If I had a mother, I’m sure she’d have always told me I was too impatient for my own good. But that’s just who I am, and now you’re sitting there with the very thing I need most of all and you won’t share. You’re supposed to share, little Willow, and instead you’re being completely selfish." She withdrew her arm from Willow’s shoulder and picked up her hand, gripping it with steadily increasing pressure. "Who. Is. The. Key?" She punctuated each word with a squeeze, until Willow was fighting back tears of pain.
If she told Glory that Dawn was the Key, Glory might leave Tara alone; might really even let Willow live. If she didn’t, Glory would go after Tara and kill Willow herself—or worse. And Tara—her absolute terror of that fate; her insistence that she would die before she would surrender her mind.
She looked at Glory, tears sliding unchecked over her face and splashing onto her lap.
Forgive me…
*****
Willow, I’m coming. I’m almost with you, my love.
And then she could see them, Willow and Glory sitting on the bench, people passing by as if oblivious to the drama before them; and even from this distance Tara could see that Willow was trembling, and the knowledge of what her beloved was feeling filled her with a rage she hadn’t thought herself capable of. She would channel every strand, every fiber of magic that flowed within her; she would do that, and more:
Mother—Help me!
She was so close now, close enough to hear Glory’s hiss of rage as she raised her hands to Willow’s temples—
By all I know and all I trust;
By force of life, and force of dust;
Grant me power, with this last breath,
To come forth now in guise of—
"Please stop fondling my niece’s girlfriend."
*****
That voice. That sounded like Beverly’s voice. Willow’s mind tilted dangerously, trying to assimilate this fact while Glory’s fingers stilled briefly against her skin. Beverly, who didn’t believe in demons, was about to fall victim to a god. Did she believe in gods? Willow wondered.
"You seem to be touching my niece’s partner against her will, and that’s not only wrong, it’s just tacky."
Willow wanted to scream out for Beverly to run, but her voice seemed frozen deep in her throat.
"OK, and just who the heck are you?" Glory pulled her hands away from Willow’s temples just long enough to focus completely on Beverly—and was, apparently, deeply disconcerted by what she saw.
"You know what I am," Beverly replied evenly. "And you know why I’m here."
This was what Tara heard as she reached the bench. Without breaking stride, she reached out and took Willow’s hand and pulled her off of the bench and into her arms. "Willow, Sweetie, it’s OK. You’re safe." Though she wasn’t sure how accurate that was. At the very least, Willow would have Tara with her throughout whatever happened.
"What is this?" Glory demanded, "a freakin' convention?" She turned back to Beverly. "You don’t exist. You were destroyed."
The words registered dimly in Tara’s ears as she embraced Willow fiercely and then released her slightly in order to slide between her lover and the hell god. What was Glory saying—that Beverly had been destroyed? And why wasn’t she annihilating all of them? Why was she edging back away from Beverly as if…afraid of her?
"Tara, get Willow out of here." Beverly’s voice was harsh.
"Beverly, you don’t understand—she’s a…she’s a god."
"A hell god, to be exact," Beverly replied as she extended her arms, palms outward, toward Glory, who shook with fury.
"I thought you didn’t believe in demons," Tara said incredulously.
"I thought you two spent your free time at the movies," Beverly retorted. "Just go. I’ll catch up with you—trust me."
"I’m not going to leave you," Tara insisted. Beside her, Willow was regaining her voice, and her volition.
"It’s two against one," Willow rasped out. "I don’t know where exactly she fits in," she added, nodding at Glory.
"Tara, I’m telling you to leave." Beverly’s eyes never left Glory; her arms never wavered. "I’m—I’m older than you. Respect your elders."
"Nice try," Tara scoffed. "Maybe when I was seven…"
"Oh, for a hell god’s sake," Glory interjected, her voice a mixture of rage and exasperation, "I’ll leave. You three have some power and control issues to work through." Her eyes narrowed as she turned her gaze to Beverly. "This is quite a surprise. Don’t think I won’t be prepared for it next time." And then she quite literally disappeared.
Tara pulled Willow against her, a tiny sob escaping her as she thought about how close she had come to losing her life’s greatest truth; how close she had come to sacrificing a different but still precious truth by her own hand. She felt Willow’s hands clutching at her back, then running through her hair, as if she couldn’t press herself closely enough against Tara’s body.
Finally Willow pulled back just enough to kiss Tara, stroking her face as if reassuring herself that both of them were still alive.
"I thought I told you to run," she whispered against Tara’s cheek.
"You didn’t say ‘please,’" Tara answered softly, placing fierce kisses against Willow’s brow as she spoke.
After a few minutes, both of them turned slightly in their embrace to see Beverly gazing at them, a wry grin making its way across her face.
"We should probably have a little chat," she finally said.
*****
To Be Continued
Edited by: [url=http://pub106.ezboard.com/bthekittenthewitchesandthebadwardrobe36671.showUserPublicProfile?gAntigoneUnbound[/url] at: 7/3/03 7:46 pm
Let's get on that shall we?
) 
Or maybe my Ghiradelli demon was spiked 
and that’s what made the vamps skidaddle. Hell that would clear any room. I don’t know. I just don’t want aunt Beverly to be evil **pouts** she seems so loving and caring and a perfect motherly figure for Tara. I’m mean, Joyce is gone and her mom is gone and I think she could really use having that kind of support.
Too much.
And just what prompted the "flinch" I'm sure will be very interesting.
