When Erynn found herself – Post 5 (Update)
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Author name – CopperAndGold
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Rating - NC-17 (Strong)
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Disclaimer - This is an adult fic. There will be some angst, smut, bad language, difficult subject matters (They will be noted prior to posting) The characters' developments were taken from season 5 - A bit after the episode: Family. Anything that is canon and prior to this episode is fair game. Oh, there's also a small reference to a funny exchange in season 6 between Anya and Tara that I just couldn't stop from using. Even with all this, there's comedy too! Everything after Family becomes A/U.
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Feedback - Please, I love your words.
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Summary - Willow and Tara make a new friend. She's... interesting.
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Notes – There is a short torture scene in this update. Please, read at your discretion. Also, the song referred to in this update can be found here:
Creep - Radiohead
From the outside, this place had always looked… well, bad. Burnt to a crisp, bad. How it was left in this state for so long, he couldn’t understand. One thing was for sure looking around now, he’d missed a hell of a show.
Spike had never ventured inside. No reason to and, besides, it looked unpleasant. He hadn’t been there when the mayor had tried to take over as a giant snake. Again, how a giant snake could have controlled much of anything was beyond him. Seemed to him the mayor had traded down instead of up.
The stench was subtle but lingering. As a vampire, he didn’t need to breathe which was useful at times like these. Once he’d gotten an idea of the scent of the place he’d quickly decided against smoking. Not that he detected anything flammable, it was more because he’d have to breathe. It was subtle but, the smell of burnt flesh permeated the place.
He never did like that smell. It smelled too much like cooked pork. Even when he’d been alive, he hated the meat. There had been a period in which his mother and he had fallen on such hard times, William had to take a pig farmer up on his offer of a job. His social stature, which hadn’t been very distinguished up until then, had taken an even sharper nose dive after that.
The only meat he’d been able to put on the table for months had been pork.
Spike pulled up on a metallic tube that looked to him to have been part of a ventilation system. It was blocking his way until he yanked it above his head long enough to pass under it. Letting go, it fell back down causing an obnoxiously loud clatter to ring through the halls in an incomplete and distorted echo.
He sighed on reflex, which made him inhale sharply through his nose… “Ugh, bloody hell.” He spat, his lips curling upwards in a disgusted grimace.
So far, nothing. He’d been rummaging for almost three hours through ashes and soot, half-desks and twisted lockers. Still, no sign of a trophy. He wasn’t surprised, of course. It seemed completely daft to expect there to be one. The only thought that kept him going at this point was the fact Lucile didn’t think it was a fool’s errand. She had a knack for these things.
The Slayer would be patrolling right now. He could be out there, watching her from a distance. She was really something else; the way she fought sent chills down his spine. Spike really wanted a piece of that.
“Ow!” Oh, he was nearing his limit now. All the annoyances he’d experienced since getting here were adding up. The scrapes, the stumbles… that one fall he’d blocked out of his memory. His black jeans were torn below the left knee. A result of stepping over what might have been a huge boiler, without knowing what was beyond it to step onto. He’d ended up straddling the large metal cylinder not having footing on either side. His feet left dangling like a kid on a teeter-totter.
Embarrassing position to find yourself in. More so when, looking around as if expecting to find onlookers, you lose your balance and end up on the very side from which you’d started in the first place.
With a torn knee as a bonus.
Now what? Spike looked up rubbing his head. Something had fallen on it from above. Nothing visible as far as he could make out. Taking out his flip lighter, he was about to flick it to life when he heard movement in the shaft above. The moon’s light glow coming through the crumbled wall, reflected bright-green in the almond shapes of two feline eyes staring down at him.
“What’d you do that for?” He asked his stalker, “Not lookin’ for poker chips, mate.” Absentmindedly, he looked around for where his next step would take him.
He could hear the cat moving above, walking away to his left. Spike paid no mind though as he stepped over some rubble straight ahead, seeing beyond the crumbled walls that the hall continued that way.
Through a hole the size of a baseball, he spotted a dash of white and brown. “Where are you?” He could hear the cat’s heartbeat to his left where the hole was. But, there was nothing to his left. At least, there didn’t seem a way through at all. Just concrete and bricks, plaster and lots of black… stuff.
There was a hole though and when he peered in, he recoiled as a pink and black nose poked through. “Mew,” The little fanged mouth intoned dispassionately. Furry white lips vanished only long enough for a paw to swipe out of the hole and back.
Spike sniggered. Cats, they were pretty decent as far as animals went. Dangling a finger in front of the hole - because that’s what you do with a playful cat, isn’t it? – he waited for his companion to strike. Soon enough, the lips and fangs were again replaced by two outstretched cat legs. Paws out, tiny toes extended into sharp claws. “Ah, ah, ah!” Spike pulled back his finger just in the nick of time.
“How’d you get back there, anyway?” Talking to a cat wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d ever done by far. He looked up to where it had been before, in the shaft above. There must be a way through there, he mused. There was no way in hell he’d be crawling through a ventilation shaft, though.
He figured, a hole is a weakness, right? Being there was a hole, he might be able to make it bigger. After all, he was big and he was bad. Breaking through a wall with a hole in it… couldn’t be that hard.
What he needed was a tool. Makeshift, of course – something big and heavy. After a few moments of rummaging around, he pulled out a long piece of rebar that still had a sizeable chunk of cement attached to its end. That would do.
“Might want to back up, Whiskers.” A thought whizzed through his brain fleetingly. Why was he doing this? Trying to break through a wall, because of a cat? No, it wasn’t the cat. The cat got his attention, which made him see a way he hadn’t noticed before. Spike had always been the romantic sort. The whimsical appealed to him and, a cat showing him the way was too much like Alice in Wonderland to pass up.
The impact sent shockwaves through his hands, all the way up to his shoulders. Clenching his jaw against the pain, he swung again. Bits of concrete and plaster exploded from around his makeshift sledgehammer, the hole now more the size of a beach ball. Progress, it was a nice incentive to keep going.
It only took seven swings to make the hole big enough for him to pass through. The room beyond wasn’t untouched by the explosion but, the debris didn’t impede his movements as much. A rustling to his right alerted him to his feline friend chasing a flying bug of some sort.
The space looked like it’d been a classroom. At least part of it still looked like one. A wall was missing; imploded inward. Things had been destroyed, demolished but not burnt to a crisp. It was a nice change of scenery, really.
The vampire walked further into the classroom, giving cursory glances around to see if anything stood out. Other than the cat, who just happened to have caught the bug and was now happily torturing it to death, nothing stood out.
Suddenly, something bright caught his eye. Not a light, a reflection of a light. Indirect and fleeting, as if a passing car’s headlights had bounced off of a reflective surface. It was there one moment and gone the next.
Walking towards where he thought the light might have caught, he found glass littering the ground. The glass led to an upturned display case. Pictures, medals with burnt ribbons, and trophies. Broken and battered, but trophies nonetheless.
Spike shook his head in disbelief and crouched to be able to get a better look. Broken swim trophy, couple of medals, burnt pictures. His eyes glanced over another trophy, a cheerleading one. It was in much better shape and he almost jumped in surprise when he looked more closely. Damned thing was looking at him. He moved his head left to right keeping his eyes on the trophy and sure enough, the creepy thing’s eyes followed him. “Well, aren’t you disturbing.”
He stood up with the trophy in hand. He was about to turn around when he felt something land on his shoulder, gripping the leather of his coat. He could tell it was the cat, it was purring. “Got what I came for, Whiskers. Time for me to go. And, mind the leather would you?” After a few steps and a disconcerting sandpaper-like lick to the ear, the cat jumped down from its perch. Spike continued his way out of the school.
Once outside he took a deep breath through his nose and lit a cigarette. He was surprised, to say the least. Throughout his search, he’d been thinking up a plan B. In case there
was no trophy, what then?
A few ideas had come to mind. Risky, dangerous and possibly suicidal ideas. Other than that one about going to the Slayer with what he knew.
That one had stuck. It might even put him in her good graces…
But, now he had the trophy so no need for the Slayer, right? Then, why was he still thinking about it?
He needed to go to his crypt, relax and clear his head. Spike figured he had options now, he just needed some time to figure out what those actually might be.
His stomach did its version of grumbling. Before he headed out that night, he’d already eaten. Pig’s blood,
Fucking pig’s blood. His contact was out of cow, leaving him with no other choice but to buy a few day’s supply of pig.
His steps slowed as his thoughts turned to the human blood he’d had at Doc’s. Spike had been expecting this, the longing for that same drink. The hit from human blood was like nothing else. It soothed both aspects of himself: Human and demon.
Animal blood: Cow, Pig, Rat… They seemed to only appease one of them. Sometimes, he wondered at which. He doubted any living human would understand that he believed it was more his human aspect that needed the human blood. The demon… It seemed to just want something to die so it could feed. He figured the difference between his demon and a bear or a lion, was the fact his demon knew something had to die. Enjoyed the fact and the act of killing.
But, the high from human blood alone…
Stop thinking about it, you stupid ponce.He turned on his heel, deciding on a new destination. Spike would go to Willy’s and order up some cow’s blood. He had the good kind, without all those antibiotics and growth hormones in it.
The after-taste of that stuff was disgusting.
***
I wish Riley was here.The thought surprised her, making Buffy’s steps falter. He’d been on her nerves recently, making
wanting to be around him difficult. So, why did she want him here, now?
She was bored. It had been quiet so far, no big confrontation, no mysterious goings on… After a few hours of pretty much nothing, she decided to take care of the other Slayer duty on her agenda.
So, I want him around when I’m bored. Wow, Buffy – you’re such a nice girl. She grimaced at her sarcastic thought. The more time went on, the more she felt guilty. Buffy knew she was the one holding back, deep down. She knew that…
He’s just not the kind of guy I want to talk to about stuff. The Slayer mentally shrugged, saddened by her realization.
Something caught her eye, she squinted at it. It was small, an animal, walking away from her a block or so ahead. When Buffy raised her eyes toward the horizon, she could make out a human shape walking in the same direction, slightly ahead of the animal she assumed to be either a dog or a cat.
The pet wasn’t anything new, people were stupid enough to let them roam around even though a lot of them didn’t make it back. But, the human shape at this time of night, in Sunnydale?
She dashed into the alley to her right, running across it to the other side. Once she was on the street parallel to the one on which she had spotted her target, she started quickly making her way in that same direction. Extending her senses, she was able to tell she was gaining on them.
Speed-walking would do the trick, they weren’t that far ahead. When she passed the mystery man, she turned left into the alley to the other side, slowing her steps when she neared it.
Footsteps, lazy but sure, were coming her way. Buffy hid in the shadows, waiting to spot her target.
It didn’t take her long to realize who it was, the hair alone was a dead giveaway.
Huh, dead giveaway. I should work that into a quip.Buffy walked onto the sidewalk and sighed, about to say something when a calico cat slithered through her legs, continuing on its way after only a fleeting glance in her direction.
She cocked her head, amused, “You know you’re being followed, right?” The Slayer asked out loud to the retreating vampire.
His steps stopped, his shoulders slumped. Spike took a deep breath, “Slayer, bloody perfect.” He said, turning around. “Look, can’t a fella just go for a drink?”
“I wasn’t talking about me,” Buffy’s eyes fell to the cat now happily licking itself in some very private places. Pointing at it with her stake, she added, “Didn’t think you were a pet owning kinda vampire. But, a cat? Yeah, I can see that. A dog would just be redundant, you know?”
“Piss off,” Spike spat, “He’s not mine. He does as he pleases, he’s his own.” He waved in the cat’s direction, which was seemingly hanging onto his every word, “I just met him tonight. I guess he likes me.” He shrugged.
Buffy crouched down and tucked away her stake, “Hey colorful, com’ere.” She reached out her hand, “You know, only females can be calicos.” The cat was sniffing at the Slayer’s fingers, “I saw that on the Discovery channel.”
“Cali-what’s it?”
Stop looking at her through those eyes you git! He was turning to mush, he could feel it. Seeing the Slayer there, petting a now purring cat. There was just something about it that soothed him, “I don’t know cats.”
You just want to shag her. He mentally appeased himself.
Standing up again, she wiped her now hairy hands on her pants, “Pet or not, you should at least get the gender right. It’s a female.” The Slayer motioned to his trophy holding hand with a raised chin, “What’cha got there?” Her tone overtly sweet.
Spike waved the trophy around dismissively, “Crypt decorations,” Misdirection was needed here. He reached into his coat pocket for his smokes, “Needs a bit of a personal touch.” He flicked his lighter shut, “I’m thirsty so, if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my merry way.” The words left his mouth in a plume of smoke as he turned to walk away.
His eyes rolled as he heard her steps following him, “
What do you want!?” He growled impatiently, turning sharply around to face her once again.
Buffy shrugged nonchalantly, “Nothing,” She motioned ahead, “I was on my way to Willy’s when I saw the wrongness that is you.” Starting to walk again she added, “Good thing the whole ‘covered in soot’ look is in this season. Too bad the hair still hasn’t made a comeback, though.”
Spike’s jaws clenched, “You wouldn’t be so glib if I didn’t have this bloody chip in my head.” He growled, “I’d have you in pieces, Slayer.”
“I know, I know,” Buffy said as she rolled her eyes, “I’ve heard it so many times. ‘Mark my words, Slayer. I will kill you. Drain you of your life blood…’ blah, blah, blah.” She said in a mock British accent.
The vampire grimaced, “Drain you of your life blood?” Shaking his head in disgust, he added, “I would never say that.”
“Whatever,” The slayer dismissed it with a hand wave, “All I’m saying is you should move on, you know?” She patted his shoulder condescendingly, “So, you’re a lame duck. Get over it…” She shrugged.
Spike bristled, his fists and jaw clenched. The cat chose this moment to climb up the vampire’s jeans and coat, to his shoulder. It sat there, content, with its tail wrapped around Spike’s neck. The tip of the furry appendage tickled his lips, “Pplltt! Bloody hell, Whiskers. Keep at it and I’ll turn you in at poker night.”
Buffy’s face was unreadable, “Ok, what’s the play here, Spike?”
“Oh, here we go,” He threw his arms out in exasperation, “Tell me, Oh Mighty Slayer. What have I done to make you suspicious this time?” Spike pointed at the cat, “Is it the pussy on my shoulder? Are we a little jealous?” He leered at her, his tongue peeking from his mouth lasciviously.
She rolled her eyes, “You’re up to something. The soot, the cat, the trophy. It’s all,” The Slayer tried to come up with the right words but came up short, “Weird.”
Bugger, not now! He cleared his throat, “And since when is being a little eccentric a crime?” Spike feigned disinterest, scratching the cat under her chin. “Once I’m in there, we don’t know each-other.” He said, pointing at the door to the bar.
“Aw,” Buffy said sarcastically, fluttering her lashes, “Are you ashamed of me, blondie-bear?” Using the pet-name she’d heard Harmony call him to try and get a rise out of the vampire.
He quirked an eyebrow, an idea hitting him. Before pulling the door open he asked her, “Have you ever wondered why you give me such a hard time?” When she only cocked a hip and pulled a bored expression, he added, “You’re my own personal bully, Slayer. I can’t hurt you physically, I’m no real threat as you see it.” Spike’s brow furrowed, “Yet, here you are. Antagonizing me for no better reason than your own enjoyment.” He shook his head in disbelief and grabbed the handle to the bar entrance, “And they say you’re the good guy.” The door opened and he slipped inside, a wicked grin on his face.
Let her chew on that for a bit.***
He closed the door to the office in his chamber. The room had been soundproofed for phone calls. It tended to get noisy out there. He picked up the phone hastily, “This better be good,” Damien said, peering at himself in the full length mirror adorning the wall. “My favorite part comes up soon.” His abs were muscular and jumped as her smoothed a hand across them.
“Mr. Brice,” His secretary said, “I’m sorry to disturb you. I have a call on hold from the bar in town, sir.”
His skin was tingling all over, he raked his nails across his sides and sighed out loud.
Why am I holding a phone?His secretary cleared their throat, “Sir, you made sure to tell me a call from this location was important enough to disturb you, tonight.”
“Lynd,” Damien shook his head from side to side, “Yes. Give me a minute,” Placing the phone down, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He focused on stepping out of the pleasure bubble, as his mentor had taught him. Reaching out in his mind, he tore at the fabric between his worlds before stepping through.
His thoughts settled, his need receded. He sighed and picked the phone back up, “Ok, Lynd, send it through.”
Damien ran his fingers through his tussled, wet hair. As soon as the line clicked over he asked, “Who’s this?”
“The night shift,” A sweet feminine voice answered, “I was expecting the big guy.” She sounded skeptical.
The founder grinned, “The big guy, huh? Well, he’s busy right now.” He chuckled, “I gave him the night off.”
She laughed derisively, “Oh, really? Next you’ll tell me you’re the boss.”
Damien was already losing patience, “I asked who you were.” His jaws clenched as he looked through the window at Donovan propped up against the boards. “I expect an answer in your next breath. If you have this number, you know we can find you.”
“Fine, I’m June. Your demon girl next door.” The caller said in a huff, “I’m your night shift here at the bar. The Slayer was in here a few minutes ago.” She cleared her throat, “Asking questions about a Gurtrall demon.”
He sat down at the desk, “Did the bar tender follow protocol?”
She giggled then, “Yeah, it was pretty sweet. When he faked resisting, she actually punched him to sell it to the crowd. Little fucker bleeds like you wouldn’t believe. He told her about Jurrot, didn’t give his name though. Said he’d been in a few times, met with others. But nothing more specific than that. Platitudes about chicken wings and stuff.”
“He was convincing?” Damien asked, “I hear he’s a bit of a nervous mouse.”
She smacked her lips once he heard her take a swallow of something, “Seemed to do the trick. She left not long after that. Didn’t seem too happy, poor girl.” She said, sarcastically.
“Alright,” Damien stood up, “Anything else?”
“Yeah,” She sounded unsure, “My allowance here at the bar. I wanted to ask the big guy if it could be… more.”
Is she for real? “How about this,” He said in an unreadable tone, “I’ll run it up the rungs. See what happens.” Damien pulled a pad towards him and grabbed a pen, “You said your name is Jude?” He asked sweetly.
“June,” She said, a note of hope in her tone, “I’m here from eleven to four. Five nights a week. I can’t seem to make the money stretch.”
He smirked and rolled his eyes, “Stretch, yeah. Ok, June,” Damien said as he wrote her name and hours down, “I’ll make sure to send this to someone who can do something for you.”
Making it stretch… I’ll show her how.“Thanks!” She seemed delighted, “When Jurrot’s back, tell him June called.”
His eyebrows shot up his forehead, amused to no end, “I’ll be sure to do that.” He snickered as he hung up.
Damien walked out of the office and was greeted by Jurrot’s singing voice, amazingly sweet and clear sounding. A complete contrast to his speaking voice. “
A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down,” He saw the blue arc as the demon zapped Donovan on the inside of his thigh with a cattle prod, “Aaarrrgghh!” He screamed desperately around his ball gag.
The head of research was thrashing as best he could, held by coarse ropes against the wood planks behind him. His body littered with cuts and burns, even sweating hurt. “
A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down in the most delightful wayyyy,” The demon continued singing.
Damien smiled and approached the pair, picking up a glove covered with tiny needles from a table on the way. He started singing along with Jurrot, “
A robin feathering his nest has very little time to rest while gathering his bits of twine and twig,” He skipped forward once and put the glove on, “
Though quite intent in his pursuit he has a merry tune to toot, he knows a song will move the job alonnng,”Without a pause, he grasped Donovan’s penis in his gloved hand.
The screams were otherworldly, eerily punctuated by birdsong coming from the Mary Poppins soundtrack.
***
“We can’t talk about art without talking about philosophy,” The chairs creaked softly as students shifted in their seats, eyes riveted to the front of the class where a large white screen was pulled down. Against it shown the representation of a painting.
Mr. Daughtry continued, “Behind every movement, is a drive. An idea coalesced into action. The modern art movement is no different.” He pointed at the screen, “This painting, most of you will recognize,” A sky of reds and yellows painted in thick horizontal lines. A river started at the horizon, bringing the eye to the bottom center of the piece where a man stood on a bridge. Mouth open in a shocked scream, both hands pressed against his cheeks. “The Scream, by Edvard Munch. Painted in 1893. A classic example of modern art. The artist cast aside preconceived notions, old habits and techniques. Munch, like all modern artists, embraced novelty. The drive of the modern art movement was to evolve. To change how the artist sees the world, a new perspective on old techniques and themes.”
Erynn was in rapt attention. She’d been looking forward to this class. Getting up that morning hadn’t been an easy thing to do. The night had been unkind. She hadn’t had the heart to call Loreli to tell her about what happened during the spell, either. Erynn just wanted to think on things before talking about it all.
She’d been worried once she’d made her way to the back of the class. As soon as she sat down, she felt like she might fall asleep. It didn’t take long though before both the professor and the subject matter got her attention.
The night before, she’d come to the conclusion that she needed to talk with Tara. Find out what had happened. Erynn was confused and worried and, the only person who could clarify things was the blonde witch.
She also knew Tara wouldn’t want that. Judging by her reactions the day before, the Canadian was pretty sure approaching Tara wasn’t a great idea. Besides, she didn’t owe Erynn anything.
Would she be condemned to feeling like this forever? She could feel herself slipping back into bad mental habits. Berating herself, telling herself she wasn’t any good for anyone. To know that you make a genuinely good person run out the door, scared… That had an impact on the old self-esteem. The fact she loved this good Tara-shaped person, made things much worse.
She might never see Tara again. There wasn’t a reason to, other than her own hopes. The thought saddened her deeply but, a part of her felt relieved at the notion. It might make it easier for her feelings toward the witch to dissipate. Knowing it might be better in the long run though, didn’t make the short run any easier.
“Did you catch that last artist’s name?” Erynn had caught him looking at her a couple of times during the class. Now it was over, he seemed to have taken it as his chance to approach, “I couldn’t write it down fast enough.” He asked with a smile, “I’m Theo, by the way.” Theo added, extending a hand.
“Erynn,” She shook his hand and returned the smile, “Yeah, it was Dali. Salvador Dali.” Erynn closed her bag once her books and supplies were safely inside, “I’m surprised you didn’t know that.” She chuckled, “’The Persistence of Memory’ it’s a pretty popular piece.”
Theo shuffled his feet, “Um…”
She stood and faced him, a smirk on her lips and twinkle in her eye. The emotions she could read in him made her chuckle internally, “I can think of two reasons why you wouldn’t know that, being this isn’t an intro class to modern art.” Her fedora made its way firmly onto her head, “Either you cheated your way through to this point, which is kinda hard to do and pointless in art. Or, you just wanted to say hi.”
She motioned with her head for him to follow as she started taking the stairs down from her seat, “Just so you know, though? Saying you’re ignorant about the subject matter of a class isn’t the best first impression ever.”
They stepped out into the hall, “You really don’t pull your punches, do you.” Theo said, an amused expression on his face.
Erynn smiled and shrugged, “I haven’t thrown one yet. So, which is it?” She asked, bending toward him in a conspiratorial way.
He laughed, “You got me, I just wanted to say hi. Granted, Dali… kind of a given. That was dumb.” He scratched the back of his head, “In the spirit of the class, I was trying this new thing: being bold. I guess it didn’t work out as well as I’d hoped.” He shrugged.
“I don’t know,” She grinned at him, “We
are talking, after class… in the hall,” Her eyes glanced above his left shoulder and she froze. Her heart fell into her stomach, “Fuck.”
Theo turned his head, trying to see something that would’ve made Erynn cuss. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” She said hastily, “Just someone… I should go.” Tara was coming in their direction, but Erynn didn’t think the witch had seen her yet, “I’ll be late for… I need to go.”
“Ok, then…” Theo said to her retreating back, “See you next class I guess.” His voice lowered, disappointed.
Erynn rounded the first corner she crossed and leaned against the wall. She wasn’t going to be late for anything, she didn’t even have another class for two hours. But, the thought of bumping into Tara made her insides twist. It just wouldn’t end up going well, she was sure. She couldn’t stand the idea of seeing that look in Tara’s eyes again.
Peering around the corner, she spotted the blonde standing at the door to the same classroom Erynn had just left. She was talking with a couple other students, smiling.
So pretty…Her mind whirled with thoughts, her pulse quickened, she felt like she could cry at any moment. She wasn’t upset because she couldn’t have the blonde witch. Her feelings weren’t based in something so selfish. They ran deep, down in the abyss where self-loathing lies.
Erynn just wanted to be someone worthy of a person like Tara. Worthy of Tara.
She wiped her eyes hastily and quickly made her way towards the central stairs once she noticed the blonde turn away.
Erynn didn’t want to go back to her room. She felt like a big knot with legs, so she kept walking aimlessly down the halls. Passing a classroom with big windows, she glanced something out of the corner of her eye. Retracing her steps back towards the last window, she peered into the room.
Her eyes lit up. She looked up at the wall where a sign read: ‘Music Department’
Glancing left and right, she slipped into the room and closed the door and turned down the blinds.
There it was, at the back. Surrounded by guitars, drums and other instruments sat a black baby grand piano. It was difficult to find places where she could play. Being on the road all the time, she couldn’t own a piano. Keyboards didn’t cut it, they had no soul. Erynn liked visiting musical instrument stores so she could ‘test’ the pianos until the proprietor would catch on and gently shoo her out the door. Sometimes, none too gently.
She sat on the piano bench and scooted it closer so she could reach the pedals. “Hi,” She said softly, running a hand across the top of the instrument, “I need to talk.” Erynn sniffed and ran her hands across the keys, “I hope you don’t mind.”
Her fingers started playing absentmindedly, a melody forming and reforming. A never ending stream of notes, building nothing but filling the room with melodic sound. And, after a half hour or so, she closed her eyes as a song came to mind.
The notes quickly fell into place, following the echo in her head. Erynn started to sing:
When you were here before
couldn’t look you in the eye
You’re just like an angel
your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
in a beautiful world
I wish I was special
you’re so fucking specialBut I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong hereIt wasn’t the most beautiful singing voice. Erynn wasn’t a singer by any stretch of the imagination, but she felt every word she sang and key she struck.
I don’t care if it hurts
I want to have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul
I want you to notice
when I’m not around
You’re so fucking special
I wish I was specialBut I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong hereThe door closed silently once a figure entered the room, quietly making their way toward a chair. They sat down unbeknownst to Erynn who just continued her song.
Ohh, OhhShe’s runnin’ out the door
she’s runnin’
she runs, run, run, run, run
Run!Whatever makes you happy
whatever you want
You’re so fucking special
I wish I was specialbut I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here
I don’t belong here…Three beats later Erynn took her foot off the pedal and strangled the last note to an end. “I’d clap but that seems awfully cliché.” A deep, male voice brought the French-Canadian’s attention towards the chair where an older man sat. “I’m Mr. Schroeder. This is my department.”
She stood up quickly, “I’m sorry, sir. I just thought…” Erynn started for the door, “I’ll let myself out.”
“Please,” Mr. Schroeder stood up, “Don’t run away. Are you taking classes?”
“Not music,” Erynn said, “I just saw the piano and felt the need to play.” She said sheepishly, “I don’t get to play often.”
“Hmm,” The department head approached the student, “Do you feel better?” He asked, his tone genuinely thoughtful.
She smiled, “Yeah, I do. I always do.” Erynn shrugged and looked at the ground, stuffing her hands into her pockets.
A warm hand on her shoulder made her look up again, “Then, how about you and I find a way to fit an hour here with the piano, into your schedule?”
“Really!?” Erynn beamed, “That would be fantastic! But, don’t you need it for classes?”
He motioned for her to follow him out of the room, “Come to my office, we’ll work around the schedules once I’m at my computer. When we’ve found a spot, I’ll reserve it for you.”
***
She took a bite of her turkey sandwich, “Mmm,” Willow was starving, “I mean, she can go on and on about how mathematicians are a clear headed bunch of academics all she wants,” She paused to chew more and swallow.
Tara was eating her salad and listening to her girlfriend’s impassioned argument, “But, let’s not forget Pythagoras was afraid of beans, Kurt Gödel starved himself to death a paranoid schizophrenic, Paul Erdős lived on the streets and just popped into random people’s houses uninvited, to do math.” Taking a breath, she shook her head, “Clear headed?” She said incredulously before taking another bite of her sandwich.
The blonde grinned and nodded, “Sounds to me like genius isn’t normal. I guess that’s why it’s genius.” She poked her straw into her apple juice box, “I like Monday lunches,” She smiled at her girlfriend, “It’s nice to be able to sit and eat with you.”
“It really is,” Willow smiled around a mouthful.
“Will, something’s been happening I need to tell you about,” Tara picked up her veggie wrap, “It’s about what happened during the cleansing s-spell, at Erynn’s.”
The redhead waited for her girlfriend to finish her bite, “What’s up baby? Everything ok?” She asked, somewhat worried.
Tara bobbed her head left and right in a non-committal gesture, “Kinda. I didn’t tell you… because I didn’t know how.” Clearing her throat she continued, “When that stuff hit my hand, it was like a bunch of slides – videos and sounds, memories, emotions – all piled together, hitting me.”
Willow took her hand, “Of what? Do you know?”
“I didn’t really at first.” The blonde continued, “I mean, it was all jumbled together. I just felt different kinds of fear, anger sometimes l-lust even. The images weren’t fitting together. All I knew was they were Erynn’s.” She shifted in her seat, “But, they’re coming back to me in flashes now. Like, one at a time or something.”
“Oh,” The redhead’s brow crinkled in worry, “What kind of memories?”
Tara sighed, “So far, bad ones,” She pushed her food aside, “I had t-to leave my class earlier. L-locked myself in a bathroom stall for ten minutes. The first one was last night, at the box.”
“Are you ok? Really,” Willow held onto Tara’s hand in both of hers, “I mean, really ok? We could leave. Go do some research, find out how to fix it if you want.”
She shook her head, “I have a test after l-lunch, I can’t miss it.” Tara took a deep breath, “I think I’m going to call Erynn tonight though, after classes. It just doesn’t feel right having her memories like th-this. I think she should know.”
The redhead wasn’t so sure, “Are you sure? I mean, maybe it’s best if she doesn’t…” At her girlfriend’s surprised look she added, “Think about it. You said these were bad memories, right? Let’s say this guy next to us at the table there, all of a sudden gets some of your memories into his head.” She nodded sideways at the disheveled guy in question, “Would you want to know about it?”
Tara cocked her head, “It’s not just that, though. It’s how we left, how
I left after I freaked out.” She frowned, “She knows something happened, and I hurt her Will. And, now I’ve got these… memories of hers... I have a feeling my reaction might have hurt her more than I thought. She probably thinks I hate her, or thinks I think she’s ho-horrible.”
“What was the memory about, today?” Willow asked, she didn’t like this one bit. It was clear this was distressing her lover.
She knew this question would come. Her girlfriend was nothing if not curious. Tara didn’t feel right about sharing though, “They’re pretty personal to Erynn. I don’t feel r-right having them myself, so sharing them…” She shrugged apologetically.
“Oh,” Willow started piling her garbage onto her tray, “I get it.”
“Will, look at me,” Tara quickly said, “I’m not doing this to keep you out of the loop. If I felt right about it, I’d tell you.” Her eyes pleaded her girlfriend to understand, “I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
“How do you know what the right thing is?” She asked, frustrated, “It’s not like this happens all the time. You were forced to have knowledge about Erynn only a really close friend or lover should have.” Willow threw her hands up in the air, “We barely know her!”
Tara nodded and waved a hand in her direction, “Hence the discomfort.”
“So, what?” Willow spat, “To make yourself more comfortable you’re going to buddy up to her? Become that close friend?”
“What?” The blonde was thrown, “No. That’s not… Why are you so mad?”
“I’m not mad,” The redhead said unconvincingly, “I’m uncomfortable.” She stood up, “Lunch is over. I have class. We should talk more about this later, before you call Erynn. Agreed?” She tried to take the edge out of her voice but, it just got replaced by a quiver. Something about this rubbed her in all the wrong ways.
She sighed and nodded, “Yeah, ok.” The blonde also stood up and opened her arms. Willow quickly filled them, “I love you. I don’t always
get you, but I love you.” She said affectionately.
The blonde smirked, “Likewise, sweetie.” She kissed her softly, “Have a good afternoon, I love you.”
***
Willow and Buffy were heading out the main entrance together, “How about a mocha?” Asked the redhead.
The Slayer was surprised, “Isn’t your honey waiting for you at the dorms?”
The redhead shrugged, “Yeah, she was done an hour ago.” Her eyes fell to the pavement, “I just don’t feel like going yet. And, I want a mocha.”
The blonde looked ahead, “Ok, let’s get a mocha. But you have to spill. Usually, you two are attached at the hip, everything ok?”
They started walking towards the Pump in silence until Willow said, “Something happened during the spell we did for Erynn.” Pulling on her sleeve, she fiddled with the stitching, “Now, Tara’s been having flashbacks of Erynn’s life. Bad stuff.”
“What can we do?” Buffy asked, alarmed, “That’s horrible. But, wait… why does that make you want to avoid going home?”
Willow sighed, “We had an argument at lunch. She wants to call Erynn tonight but, wouldn’t tell me what she saw earlier today in a flashback she had at school. She said she didn’t feel comfortable sharing Erynn’s private life.”
“Oh,” Was the blonde’s response.
They’d made it to the Espresso Pump and ordered their mochas. Both of them were sipping their drinks contentedly, sitting at a table.
“Ok, so I get how you might be… I don’t know, offended?” Buffy said, “But, I can also see Tara’s point of view. I mean, if you ever told her about some of the stuff you know about me…” She shivered.
The redhead waved a hand, “It’s not the same, you’re my best friend. We don’t even know Erynn’s last name.”
The Slayer frowned, “That doesn’t sound right. It sounds like, just because you’re not close with Erynn, you shouldn’t have to respect her privacy.”
“Ugh!” Willow groaned, “I don’t know. I just feel all anxious and spazzy about the whole thing. I don’t want Tara and Erynn whispering at each other behind my back.” She finished lamely.
Buffy knew better than to say anything. Instead, she focused on drinking her mocha.
Let that brain figure itself out.The redhead sighed deeply.
I’m sounding like more of a dork by the minute. She mentally groused.
“So,” Buffy decided to change the subject, “I was thinking about Riley and me, last night.” She absentmindedly fiddled with her cup, “I’m thinking I need to break up with him.”
“Oh,” Willow knew there was trouble with the couple but, she didn’t know it was that bad, “Really? What made you decide?”
The Slayer shrugged, “It’s been feeling weird for a while now. Like, our relationship reached a dead-end or something. I realized last night I’m just not willing to give him more.” She frowned, “I can’t open myself up to him… I just don’t feel that level of comfort with Riley, I guess.”
They fell silent for a moment before she continued, “Maybe it’s not him, you know? Maybe I’m just all closed up because of what happened with Angel.” She shrugged again.
Willow nodded, “Well, this explains him ‘trying too hard’,” She said before taking a mouthful of mocha.
Buffy was confused, “How does that explain him being annoying?”
The redhead rolled her eyes, “It’s a normal reaction when you’re heavily invested in a relationship and your partner distances themselves.” She waved a hand expressively, her eyes wide, “Ooh, like, every action has an equal and opposite reaction, you know?”
The Slayer thought this over, trying to make sure she understood, “So, you’re saying that because I took a step back, he took one forward? Overcompensating?”
“Yep!” Willow smiled, “That’s what I think.” She calmed then, “That doesn’t change the fact you can’t stop yourself from stepping back.”
“Which brings us back to breakup talk,” Said Buffy, glumly. “It’s just not fair to him.”
The redhead reached across the table and grasped her best friend’s hand, “I’ve never broken up with anyone. But, I’m sure it’s not easy. If you need to talk, I’m a phone call away.”
***
Tara was laying on the bed, reading a book. Soft music flittered through the air. When Willow hadn’t come home when the blonde expected her to, she’d decided to pick up a book while she waited.
She was so engrossed in the story, Tara didn’t hear when the door opened and closed. “So, here’s the thing,” Willow’s voice brought Tara’s attention towards the door, “Your girlfriend is a possessive crazy-head.” The redhead finished, walking toward the bed and dropping her bag on the desk chair.
The blonde put her book away, “Ok, you m-might want to back up a bit for contextual reasons.”
Willow sat down on the bed, “I went for a mocha with Buffy. I talked my way into seeing how crazy I was being about the whole Erynn thing.” She reached for Tara’s hand, “Buffy didn’t even need to say much, I figured it out by myself eventually.”
Tara pulled at her girlfriend’s fingers, “What did you figure out? I’m not sure I understand.”
She sighed, “The thought of Erynn and you getting close scares me.”
“Why?” The blonde asked, “I’m close with Anya… and you hate her.”
“Ok,” Willow said quickly, “First off, I don’t
hate Anya. And, second of all… Anya is in a relationship. A-and she’s… straight.” She tacked on softly.
“We don’t know Erynn isn’t s-straight,” Tara said, “Even if she isn’t. Will, her being gay or bi wouldn’t change the nature of our relationship… which is just friendship.”
“I trust you,” Willow quickly said, “It’s not you I don’t trust…”
The blonde thought for a moment before asking, “Is it because she shifts that you don’t trust her?”
“Partly, yeah… I guess.” The redhead answered, “I just don’t want her to put the moves on you, all charming and shifty.” She pouted.
Tara grinned slightly, “Even if she did put the moves on me baby, I’d just let her down.” She rolled her girlfriend over onto her back and straddled her, “I’d say ‘Thanks, but I’ve got all the woman I need at home’.” Bringing Willow’s hands up, she entwined their fingers together. “She’s this hot redhead with an amazing mouth. Don’t get me started on her hands… good luck beating that.” She winked.
“Oh, I see,” Willow said in mock offence, “I’m just a sex toy to you, huh?”
“No. Of course not!” Tara exclaimed, horrified, “The
best sex toy.” She laughed and continued, “Will, I’m hopelessly in love with you. Don’t you see that?” She asked earnestly, “If you don’t, I’m doing s-something wrong.”
“I do,” the redhead nodded, “I feel it. But, sometimes it’s hard to believe I guess.” She shrugged, “I keep having to remind myself, you know? I have… hang-ups. About sharing my people. A-and, you’re my most important person.”
“The part of me that’s yours,” Tara said seriously, “I wouldn’t share that with
anyone else
. No one but you owns it. That’s what makes you my most important person, too.”
She nodded her understanding and smiled, “When did you want to call Erynn?” Willow asked, feeling the issue had been resolved.
The blonde shrugged, “Before doing much else. I’d like to get it over with,” She got off the bed, walking toward the phone, “It’s m-making me nervous, so… I just want to ask if she’ll meet with me sometime this week so we can talk.”
“Ok, baby. Want me to go to the cafeteria and weasel us some food?” The redhead asked, her stomach was grumbling.
Tara smiled, “That sounds great.” Pulling the phone number pad from the shelf on the desk, she flipped through the pages to find Erynn’s number, “This shouldn’t take long. I should be done by the time you’re back.”
Willow was on her way to the door when Tara stopped her, “Hey, not so fast. Come here missy.” She said, pointing at the ground in front of her. “Bring those lips over here.”
The redhead quickly obliged, wrapping her arms around Tara’s waist and pressing their lips together. “Mmm,” She sighed and started moving them slowly, but her girlfriend took control of the pace. The blonde quickly deepened the kiss, her tongue finding its way into Willow’s inviting mouth.
Tara’s fingers combed up into red hair, hands pulling her girlfriend closer. Inhaling deeply through her nose, she pulled away slowly, sucking on the redhead’s bottom lip, “Mmm, I love kissing you.”
Willow was flushed from head to toe, “I love you,” She leaned in for another kiss before pulling back again, “I wish we didn’t have so much stuff to do,” Her fingers dug gently into Tara’s waist, “I want to make love with you so bad right now.”
Tara groaned, “I know,” Her hands slid down her girlfriend’s chest, coming to a rest just above Willow’s breasts, “I really want that too.” She bit her lip, trying to let reason rule, “We need to eat, though.”
“And, you have a phone call to make,” Willow nodded, still looking at Tara’s lips.
The blonde added, “There’s that letter, too. And the trunk to deal with.” She pecked Willow’s lips, “Let’s get all this taken care of and then we’ll have the rest of the night to spend together.”
The redhead sighed dramatically, “Fine. I’ll go get us food, then.” She rolled her eyes and made her way to the door.
Tara chuckled at her girlfriend’s antics, “Try to get me something green, will you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Willow’s voice came through the closing door, “I know the veggie drill.”
She picked up the phone and dialed Erynn’s number, “Allo?”
“H-hi, Erynn,” Tara sat down at the desk, “It’s Tara.”
The line went silent for a moment, “Hello? Erynn?”
“Yes,” The Canadian said softly, “I’m here. Sorry, I didn’t think you’d call.” She cleared her throat, “To be honest, I’m slightly freaked.”
“I’m sorry,” Tara said genuinely, “Th-the way I acted yesterday, you probably saw it out of context.”
“Oh?” Erynn asked, “I know something happened during the spell. Something that scared you.” She sighed and added, “I seem to scare you.”
The blonde pressed her lips together in thought for a moment, “You don’t scare me, Erynn. What I don’t understand about you, does.”
There was silence for another moment before Tara added, “I’d like for us to meet. So we can talk, I need to tell you s-something that has to do with what happened during the spell.” She sighed, “If you don’t want anything to do with me once we’ve talked, it’s ok. I’ll understand.”
“What!?” Erynn exclaimed suddenly, “That won’t happen.” She said, absolutely convinced, “I’ve been wanting for us to talk.”
Tara nodded, “Good, then. What’s your s-schedule like on Wednesday?”
“Hmm, hold on,” The Canadian said before putting the phone down. A minute later, she returned, “I have classes in the morning until eleven-thirty. Then my day is open.”
“Ok, how about we meet at your place at three? I have classes until then.” The blonde quickly added, “What I have to t-tell you, it’s not for talking about in public.”
“Ok,” Erynn agreed easily, “Wednesday at three. I’ll be here. And, Tara?”
“Y-yes?” The blonde asked.
“Thank you for calling,” The Canadian said earnestly. “I appreciate it.”
Tara smiled, “Thank you for answering. See you Wednesday.”
Once she hung the phone up, the blonde let out a deep sigh of relief. It felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders.
The door opened a few minutes later, “I have foraged and returned with a plentiful bounty!” Willow said in a deep voice. She closed the door and made her way towards the bed, where her grinning girlfriend was sitting, “I got you a potato salad, with a veggie sandwich. I even got some apple sauce!” She girnned proudly.
“Ooh,” Tara cooed, “That sounds delicious. I’m so hungry, gimme gimme!” She thrust her hands out and wiggled her fingers excitedly.
“Pfft!” Willow huffed, “This stuff isn’t free you know. I had to be all sneaky.” She leaned over and puckered her lips.
The blonde giggled and kissed her girlfriend, “What did you get yourself?” She asked as she unwrapped her sandwich.
The redhead blushed, “Um, they had pizza.” She threw a hand out in front of herself in exasperation, “How am I supposed to resist pizza?”
Tara quirked an eyebrow as she chewed.
“Don’t give me that eyebrow, Maclay.” Willow chastised, “Don’t be judging me.”
The blonde laughed, “We’ll just have to make sure to keep an eye on your cholesterol when you turn forty.”
They ate in silence for a while until Tara reached for the letter on her nightstand.
Willow’s eyebrows rose up, “Time to read it?”
Her girlfriend nodded, “I think so.” She opened the envelope and slipped out the letter.
The redhead finished her last slice of pizza and kept quiet while Tara read. The expressions running across her girlfriend’s face were unreadable until…
“What?” Tara shook her head in disbelief, “I mean,
what!?” She all but shouted.
“Tara?” Willow asked, “What is it?”
The blonde just handed the letter over, unable to communicate with words. She seemed shocked.
The redhead read:
~~~
Tara,
I heard from Beth that your father and brother went to find you. I didn’t tell them where you were, darling. I hope you believe that.
After some wheedling on my part, she let me know that you were free of the demon lies. Not in so many words, mind. But, I deduced it from reading between her lines.
I hope this finds you doing well. Learning what you did can’t have been easy and, I can only hope you’re well surrounded and loved. I’m glad you learned the truth once you were away from here, though.
This letter has two purposes. The first, saying what I did above. The second, what comes next.
When you were born, you were a 4th generation Kellison witch. Your mother knew you’d be powerful and she was scared. Your father, as you know, didn’t approve of magic. She knew she couldn’t offer you a good education in the craft and, she was worried your power would frighten your father. Your mother didn’t want him to hurt you, so she came to me when she was still pregnant.
Tara, there’s no other way to say this, we bound your power. I objected initially but, when I saw your mother wouldn’t leave your father, I thought it’d be best to go ahead with it. The spell wasn’t strong enough to bind all of your power, leaving you what you’ve been practicing with up until now.
The trunk I sent you is one that has been passed down through the generations. In it you’ll find your birthright, as well as the key to unbind yourself.
I hope you understand the reasons why I couldn’t tell you any of this until now. I wish you’d call me, so we can talk. If you have any questions, any at all – please contact me. My number is at the bottom of this letter, on the back.
Love,
Margaret
~~~
***