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lyl_devilCat's in the Cradle - cont'd...
Previous parts:
Part 1 - Mourning Comes Softly
Part 2 - Pieces Kept
Part 3 - Voices in my Head
Part 4 - Dynasty
Part 5 - Boys and Bars
Part 6 - History Raises
Part 7 - Reunification Day
Part 8 - Higher Planes
Part 9 - Revelations of Vengeance
Part 10 - Jasmine Scented Love
It was a breathtaking view - anyone would agree.
The glowing sun peeking out from behind the distant mountains reflected off the last of the morning dew, making the grass sparkle. A light mist remained in the air, bringing with it the scent of morning freshness. The horses in the barn had already been taken care of for the day, and were let loose to graze in the corral, their sounds of contentment carrying up to the nearby house.
Looking out the kitchen window at the back of the sprawling ranch house, Chris Larabee saw none of this. His dark green eyes took in the lone red head slouched in her customary lounge chair on the large deck that took up the majority of the yard. Her hands cradled around a steaming cup of hot chocolate for warmth, she stared off into the distance, no focus to her gaze.
Sighing in sympathy at the pain he knew she was in - and would carry for the rest of her life - Chris wondered whether he should push the issue, or let her mourn in relative peace.
Willow had been with him for over a week, and had yet to show interest in much of anything. She would have starved to death already if he hadn’t been forcing her to eat three times a day. Even now, the mug of hot chocolate wouldn’t pass her lips, yet she made cup after cup.
He wanted to give her the time she needed, to soften the loss of Tara and deal with what had happened in her dark period of grief, but he had a strong suspicion that she wasn’t doing either. Chris was almost certain that she was wallowing in the memory and loss of the one she loved.
He knew, because he’d done the same thing, until a little red headed brat had come and dragged him kicking and screaming back into the world.
Now it was his chance to return the favour.
He’d thought he’d accomplished it when he’d badgered her out of her room four days previously. Not long after they’d arrived from Sunnydale, the red head had holed up in her room, not even coming out for food. Only the sounds of her quiet sobbing letting him know she was still there. He’d tried to be patient and understanding, qualities most that knew him would say he lacked, but four days ago he’d reached the end of what little patience he had.
Looking at her now, he sighed again and wondered whether this vacant stare into space was any better. Occasionally a few silent tears would find their way down her cheeks, but other than that - nothing.
Feeling movement along his pant leg, the blonde looked down. Annoyance flared as he watched Willow’s cat rub more of her fur onto his black pants - as if there wasn’t enough of it already decorating his house. Between the cat and his dog, Barney, Chris wondered if there was any furniture under all the pet hair. Barney, at least, had learned to stay out of certain areas of the house.
Seeing the feline continuously twine herself around his legs, depositing more light coloured fur with every pass, Chris glared. A full-blown, lethal dosage of the Larabee glare.
Which Miss Kitty studiously ignored.
“Better watch it, Cat.” he warned the animal. “Or I’ll let Barney use you as a chew toy.”
The dark husky had taken an instant dislike to the feline - a case of two alphas for one pack. It was only due to the tight control Chris had over the dog that saved the cat from serious damage. Though at times Chris wished he’d let the dog take a piece out of the furball, just to put her in her place.
In response to his threat, Miss Kitty held her head high and flicked her tail as she made her way out to Willow’s side through the open patio door.
With one more glance at the sombre red head, Chris’ decision was made. He would help her move past this point, like she had done for him.
Turning from the window, he left to make some preparations.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two hours later, Chris silently congratulated himself. After gathering some items from the house, he’d saddled the horses and gone to retrieve his daughter. Neither had said a word as he took her hand and led her to the barn.
A small smile had curved her lips as she renewed her acquaintance with her chocolate and white horse - Cookie Crumble.
Remembering Willow’s smile had evaporated any annoyance he held in regards to the animal’s name.
“Why are we here?” asked Willow curiously, looking around the clearing they had stopped at. They were the first words she’d spoken in longer than he cared to remember.
Following her gaze around the hidden glen, Chris had no trouble deciphering what was going through her mind. She’d only been here once before, but knew that this was his special place. This was where he came to remember Sarah and Adam - a place not even Buck knew about.
Memories of the past filled Chris’ head; specific moments in his past that were inextricably linked to this place.
He remembered saying ‘I love you’ to a petite blonde he’d only known a few weeks. Later, proposing to the same woman after a candlelight picnic. He remembered the same woman all but ordering him to find the child of his out there somewhere, saying that she would adore him or her simply because they were a part of Chris. A thousand moments of his small family spending time playing and laughing in the sun in this same clearing.
There were so many happy memories for him, that this was where he’d brought Willow when they’d spread his family’s ashes - all that was left after the explosive fire.
Without saying a word, Chris dismounted, reached into his saddle bags, and pulled out a rather plain-looking clay pot. Motioning for her to follow him, Chris moved toward the large patch of wild-flowers that bloomed without fail every year.
Hearing her come to a stop beside him, Chris turned to her, holding out the jar.
“It’s time to let her rest.” he said quietly, repeating her own words back to her, from the only other time she’d been to the glen.
’You need to let them rest.’ Fifteen-year-old Willow told her bleary-eyed father, not totally convinced that he was even remotely sober. It had been an indescribable battle to get him out here in the first place, and he still seemed determined to hold out until the bitter end. ‘Clinging so tightly to their memories will slowly destroy your own life.’
‘What if that’s what I want?!’ he rasped angrily back, his voice as rough as his unshaven face. They both knew he wasn’t really mad at her, but her presence gave his anger and loss something to focus on. ‘They were my everything - my world. Now, I have nothing.’
‘You have me.’ she said quietly after a moment, and even through the alcohol and anger, the father inside him heard the underlying question of her worth to him. His anger deflating even as his shoulders slumped in place.
‘Yes.’ he replied softly, looking at the future of his family, finding something worth living for, once he started looking. ‘I do.’
The daughter he loved beyond reason.
“I don’t know if I can.” Willow told him, tears beginning to fill her eyes. “I have this gaping hole where my heart used to be, but at the same time my chest feels tight - constricted - like it’s about to burst.”
“You can’t hole-up in your memories, shutting the world out.” he told her gently. “Tara wouldn’t have wanted that.”
Tears began to silently fall down her face at the truth behind his words. Tara wouldn’t have wanted her to grieve to the point of self-destruction.
“What if I can’t do it?” she asked, still not facing Chris and the offering he held out. “What if I’m not strong enough to go on alone?”
“No one said you had to do this alone.” he told her, finally becoming the focus of her teary gaze. “Let her spirit rest. She’ll always live on in your memories. You need to cherish them, not exist in them.”
Holding the jar further toward her, Chris willed her to take it with every part of his being.
“Is that . . . her?” Willow asked shakily, motioning to the clay jar he still held at arms length.
“I called the Sunnydale morgue and found they’d already cremated her body, so I had them send it here.” he explained, conveniently not mentioning that he’d used some magic in the endeavour. He justified it by arguing that it was the only way to get the witch’s remains sent to a non-relative, without any paperwork or other stumbling blocks.
“Tara would have loved this place.” she commented, finally taking the container that held what remained of her lover into trembling hands. She absently noted that it was the same handmade urn that had held Sarah and Adam more than seven years ago. “Will they mind? Sharing this place, I mean?”
“I think they’ll love the company.” Chris answered truthfully.
The breeze picked up, as if the ghosts that resided there answered on their own. The faint scent of jasmine wafted across her senses, and Willow felt as if Sarah herself had bestowed her blessing.
Smiling softly, Willow moved a few paces toward the centre of the glen, clay jar clasped firmly against her chest.
“I will always love you.” Willow began, speaking into the air, where hopefully Tara’s spirit resided and listened. “You saw parts of me that no one ever has before, and loved me even more because of them. I will always keep you in my heart, even though I lost a big part of it when you - you left.”
“I still can’t say it, because it doesn’t seem real at times. I keep expecting to wake up next to you, finding out that this was all a horrible dream. But it ‘s not a dream, and I need to let go of that. I miss you with every beat of my heart, and I will for a long time to come. I know I can’t hold on to you forever, but I will love you for as long as my soul exists. Good-bye my love.”
“Oh, and take good care of Sarah and Adam. We both still miss them very much, and I’m sure you’ll get along really well.”
With that, Willow opened the earthen pot and allowed the sudden breeze to catch Tara’s ashes as they fell, spreading them around the tranquil clearing. There truly was something mystical about this glen, as the jasmine scented breeze spread the ash to the boundaries of the clearing, and no further.
With a few final tears, Willow turned and went back to her horse. She needed time to absorb what had just happened, and begin making plans for the future. A great weight had been lifted off her shoulders, but the ache still remained in her head and in her heart.
Chris watched her go, his own heart lightening a little. He’d known exactly what she was going through, especially when it came to the strength of her emotions. Willow was very much like him, in that they both felt everything very deeply. It was a trait that remained in their family since the early days - when they fell in love, it was fast and hard. The loss of a loved one hit even harder, and more than a few of his ancestors hadn’t survived it.
“Take good care of her.” Chris whispered into the wind. “I love you both.”
Turning, the blonde man made his way to his daughter and the horses, all the while mentally making plans for the next few days.
He would start her formal training tomorrow, but first there was a task that needed to be done that day.
He needed to take his daughter shopping. She’d been living in what was left in her room, but clothes that worked when she was fourteen wouldn’t work long term.
As he mentally racked up everything she would need, Chris silently groaned. A full day of shopping loomed in his future. Memories of hauling Adam around behind him, as he followed Sarah and Willow from store to store filled his mind.
But he would endure it all, just to see his not-so-little girl smile.
End Part 10
Part 11 - Justifiable Homicide
“But I don’t need all of this!” Willow stated for the dozenth time, trying to make her father see reason.
Chris closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten in his head.
Then twenty.
They’d had this same argument in every store. Willow didn’t see why she needed a whole new wardrobe, which Chris insisted he buy since she’d only brought the clothes on her back to Denver.
He silently wondered where she’d gotten this stubborn streak from, before deciding it must have come from her mother.
“I have a whole closet full of clothes at the Ranch.” she argued - again.
“Which have been there since you were fifteen.” Chris replied back - again.
Turning to the sales associate, he ignored the slight twitch in her lips as he told her to wrap everything up, overriding the red head’s protests. This was the sixth store they’d been to, and in every one the sales people had given him the same amused look as he argued with his daughter.
His bad-ass reputation would be in ruins by nightfall. But it was well worth it just to see the fire back in Willow’s eyes.
“You’re unbelievable!” Willow exclaimed, annoyed that he was completely ignoring her objections. Noting the small smile on the sales lady’s face as she packed up and rang in the clothes, Willow refused to become angry with her when it was clearly all her father’s fault. This was a well-established pattern for the day - her arguments and wishes being ridden over by Chris and the sales staff of whatever store they happen to be in. After catching sight of a flicking tail from underneath the skirt of a sales girl in the third store, Willow realized she wouldn’t be getting any help on that front - not against ‘Chris Larabee, Guardian of the flipping Demon Community’.
“I just want you to have an appropriate wardrobe for any occasion.” he told her.
“Appropriate for what?” she demanded as he grabbed the bags of even more clothes. “Mucking out the barn and sitting on a rock watching grass grow doesn’t need anything more than jeans and a t-shirt.”
“Sitting and what?!” he demanded, trying to sort out what she was saying - not always an easy endeavour.
“You know - meditating.” she explained as they finally left the store.
“I don’t meditate!”
“Well maybe you should!”
Gritting his teeth, Chris refused the urge to glare, knowing it had no effect on her.
“Are we done yet?” she asked after a few moments of silence. While she loved to spend time with him, this expedition rated right up there with gouging her eyes out with a toothpick.
“One more stop after we drop these in the truck.” Chris replied, ignoring the red head’s sounds of exasperation.
Some time later, Chris felt a smile pull at his lips. Willow’s face as she looked around the restaurant was everything he could have hoped for. Her eyes had yet to stop moving, as she tried to take in everything at once.
He’d brought her to lunch at ‘The Other Side’, a cafe/restaurant/bar whose clientele consisted mainly of demons and supernatural humans. It was a main gathering place for those of non-human origin.
Chris remembered how her irritation had steadily fled as they passed from room to room, each designed with a specific theme or atmosphere in mind. From the standard café look that comprised the front room to the humidity and darkness that was reminiscent of the Kashik’s hibernation nest, it was truly a meeting of worlds. He’d taken her around the long way, hoping that she’d see what he saw every time he came here. That this was where worlds truly met. He had a long range plan in mind, and this was only the first step.
She was currently trying to look like she was not staring at the Chaos demon having a nice dinner with a Koresh demon. Chris could understand where the fascination lay, as the two species were at different ends of the spectrum. The Chaos demon, while quite distinguishable with his antlers and slime, acted almost human and civil in every aspect of life, while the big, broad shouldered Koresh demon only vaguely looked anything resembling human with his red and green arm and back spikes - not to mention being nocturnal in nature. Even their environments were vastly different, the Koresh tribes preferring to roam the jungles, while Chaos demons preferred the solitary life, bumming from town to town in the more moderate climates which wouldn’t cause their pores to secrete even more mucus. The fact that they were perfectly comfortable in what JD had termed the Rock Room - so named due to everything being made of stone - said more than anything.
“Corbin and Sid.” Chris said softly in her ear, jerking the red head out of her deep observations.
“Huh?”
“Corbin’s the Koresh demon - an old friend of Vin’s, and Sid is the Chaos demon.” he explained, motioning to the couple that had held her interest so intently. “They’ve been together for almost two years.”
“Togethe - Oh.” Willow blushed as she realized what he meant.
“It’s very - odd.” she said after a moment, attempting to turn his attention off her red face.
“Maybe, but they fit somehow.” he told her. “They won’t be the only ‘odd’ pairing you’ll see.”
“What?”“ he asked her as she tilted her red head to the side, as if contemplating something of the utmost importance, her nose scrunching as she tried to figure out the answer.
“How do they . . . you know?” she asked blushing, just before her eyes widened and a horrified look came across her face. “Actually, I don’t think I really want to know!” came her hasty declaration.
Chris just laughed out loud as even more blood rushed to her face.
“So - when do we get to order around here?” she asked, deliberately trying to change the topic.
“I already did. You were too busy ogling the love birds to notice, but the waitress did stop by.”
“But-“
“Don’t worry, I ordered for you.”
“If you ordered off the children’s menu again, I’m gonna have to hurt you.” she said in a semi-cheerful voice, making her threat all the more serious.
Before either of them could open the can of worms that was the Shrimp Shack incident, a familiar, boisterous voice caught their attention.
“Chris, old dawg!” greeted Buck as he strode across the stone floor, a green-eyed Southerner in his wake.
“Buck. Ezra.” Chris returned steadily.
“And Miss Willow of the Red Hair.” the big man greeted Willow almost formally as he slid next to her on the stone bench.
“Hello Buck.” she replied carefully, holding herself very still. He’d always made her feel mildly uncomfortable, mostly due to his size and fondness of showing his emotions physically. For Willow, who grew up with very few affectionate touches from her parents or friends - namely Xander - Buck’s need to always be touching those he felt affection for, disconcerted her.
Noticing her discomfort, Ezra decided a timely distraction was needed, more specifically in the form of himself.
“Ezra Standish, at your service.” he greeted, holding out a hand for hers. “Mr. Wilmington, with his total lack of acceptable manners has failed to introduce us properly, Miss-?”
“Oh! Just call me Willow.” she answered, a bright smile on her face as she placed her small hand in his, ignoring Buck’s indignant sputtering. “And his manners aren’t any better.” she told him, tossing her head in Chris’ direction. “They probably both got them at the same cut-rate store - I’d demand a refund if I were them.”
Ezra merely raised an eyebrow in the blonde’s direction. Not many could completely ignore Larabee when he chose to level the full force of his glare on them, but this young woman was doing an admirable job of it.
“She’s family.” Chris said in response to Ezra’s questioning glance, which to the Southerner explained a great deal.
“You’ve got some nerve there, little girl.” commented Buck, smiling in spite of the insults he’d just been delivered. Willow had the same way with Chris that Sarah had, deliberately risking the blonde’s legendary wrath, but with the supreme confidence that the most he would do would be to grumble and bitch for awhile.
“Pfft.” was her comment, waving it off with a weak wave. “The way he’s been completely ignoring my wishes all day, he’s lucky if that’s all I do.”
“Mr. Larabee.” chided Ezra. “What could have possibly possessed you to ignore such a lovely creature as Miss Willow?”
“She didn’t have to argue over every single purchase.” replied Chris.
“You didn’t have to buy out half of Denver, either!” was Willow’s response.
“Miss Willow, am I to understand that you were attempting to decline items purchased for you by Mr Larabee?” asked Ezra, looking pale and shaken at the thought of turning down free gifts.
“I don’t need all those clothes.” she told him, before turning to Buck, hoping for an ally. “I don’t know how we’re both going to fit inside the truck to get home. It’s completely filled with bags from half the clothing stores in Denver. I already have a closet full of them back home.”
A decidedly male-type squeak turned her attention back to the dark haired Southerner, who was in too much shock to even attempt to hide the horror gloriously displayed on his usually well-schooled face.
“Which have all been there since you were fifteen.” argued Chris - again. He was getting tired of this same argument between them, and the other males at the table knew it. “You’ve gotten bigger since then.”
He immediately knew he’d doomed himself, when her eyes narrowed and her entire body stilled, as she readied herself to pounce on the wounded prey.
“Bigger? How?” she asked in a dangerous voice that Chris had learned early on from Sarah meant that something very bad was about to hit the fan he was standing under.
The other males at the table froze, as they too recognized the situation - the ‘no-win’ situation that Chris had just stumbled into. Buck tried to be the loyal friend he was and help Chris out, but a feminine “Back off, Buck.” halted any further attempts.
“I’m still waiting.” Willow commented, eyes never leaving the frozen features of her father. She knew she was being unfair and over-sensitive, but he’d forced her to endure hours of playing dress-up with ‘helpful’ sales girls, and this was her small bit of payback.
As much as Ezra was enjoying watching his leader trying to once again make the lovely red head smile, he decided to help out, as he was just as interested in making her happy again, as well.
“Unfortunately I never had the pleasure of making your acquaintance at the no-doubt precocious age of fifteen, but I would hazard a guess and say that you most certainly have grown in the interim - in all the appropriate areas, I might add.” Ezra put in silkily.
“Yeah, you’ve matured nicely, darling.” added Buck appreciatively, not to be left out by the smooth-talking con man.
Willow looked at Buck, at the man she’d always thought of as her Dad’s best friend - almost an honorary uncle - and said the first thing that came to her mind.
“Ewwww!”
“I agree.” added Chris, glaring harshly at his oldest friend, his gaze promising dire consequences should any idea even remotely like that ever enter his over-sexed head again.
A waitress bearing food luckily chose that moment to deliver their food, effectively diverting Willow from potentially gutting her father, and Chris took it for the blessing that it was.
“What are you boys doing here?” he asked them, effectively changing the subject.
“Mr Wilmington, after being summarily rejected by Ms Recillos this morning, the womanizing swine has come to ply his somewhat dubious charms on the owner of this fine establishment. I, however, am here to recover fiscally from a rather high stakes game of chance, of which I was the winner. In fact . . . Irwin!” Ezra called out as he quickly followed a blue and purple demon that had fled the room at the first sight of him.
“Buck got shot down by Inez and has come to try his luck with Lanka, and Ez is collecting from a bet he won.” Chris summarized when Willow looked to him for a translation. “Though he won’t have much luck, seeing as this is Lanka’s day off.”
“No it ain’t.” returned Buck, a big grin plastered on his face. “Two of her staff quit to go nest in the mountains together, so Lanka’s been working fourteen hour days ever since.”
“Shit!” The only reason he’d brought Willow here today, was because he was under the mistaken impression that the woman in question was elsewhere.
“Am I not suppose to like this Lanka person?” asked Willow between bites.
“Naw, Lanka’s great.” Buck explained, his grin getting bigger each second, if that were possible. “She just bosses Chris around like he’s no one special. She’s the only other person I know of that can look him straight in the glare and kick his ass out the door.” In fact, Buck was almost positive that if there had been even a hint of sexual chemistry between the two, Lanka would have dragged Chris to the altar long ago, with a happy smile on both their faces. “You’ll get along fine.” he reassured Willow.
A strong voice bellowed his name from the other side of the room, and Chris closed his eyes in resignation.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” said Chris under his breath before turning to greet the woman he was sure would make his afternoon as unpleasant as Willow’s morning had been. The woman lived to torment him.
“Hello, Lanka.”
And he resigned himself to making nice with the woman his daughter was already smiling at.
This was going to be a long day.
End Part 11
A/N: The single line that inspired the entire shopping scene, but I couldn’t manage to fit it in anywhere - Willow to Chris:
“You are such a girl!”
Next Part
Previous parts:
Part 1 - Mourning Comes Softly
Part 2 - Pieces Kept
Part 3 - Voices in my Head
Part 4 - Dynasty
Part 5 - Boys and Bars
Part 6 - History Raises
Part 7 - Reunification Day
Part 8 - Higher Planes
Part 9 - Revelations of Vengeance
Part 10 - Jasmine Scented Love
It was a breathtaking view - anyone would agree.
The glowing sun peeking out from behind the distant mountains reflected off the last of the morning dew, making the grass sparkle. A light mist remained in the air, bringing with it the scent of morning freshness. The horses in the barn had already been taken care of for the day, and were let loose to graze in the corral, their sounds of contentment carrying up to the nearby house.
Looking out the kitchen window at the back of the sprawling ranch house, Chris Larabee saw none of this. His dark green eyes took in the lone red head slouched in her customary lounge chair on the large deck that took up the majority of the yard. Her hands cradled around a steaming cup of hot chocolate for warmth, she stared off into the distance, no focus to her gaze.
Sighing in sympathy at the pain he knew she was in - and would carry for the rest of her life - Chris wondered whether he should push the issue, or let her mourn in relative peace.
Willow had been with him for over a week, and had yet to show interest in much of anything. She would have starved to death already if he hadn’t been forcing her to eat three times a day. Even now, the mug of hot chocolate wouldn’t pass her lips, yet she made cup after cup.
He wanted to give her the time she needed, to soften the loss of Tara and deal with what had happened in her dark period of grief, but he had a strong suspicion that she wasn’t doing either. Chris was almost certain that she was wallowing in the memory and loss of the one she loved.
He knew, because he’d done the same thing, until a little red headed brat had come and dragged him kicking and screaming back into the world.
Now it was his chance to return the favour.
He’d thought he’d accomplished it when he’d badgered her out of her room four days previously. Not long after they’d arrived from Sunnydale, the red head had holed up in her room, not even coming out for food. Only the sounds of her quiet sobbing letting him know she was still there. He’d tried to be patient and understanding, qualities most that knew him would say he lacked, but four days ago he’d reached the end of what little patience he had.
Looking at her now, he sighed again and wondered whether this vacant stare into space was any better. Occasionally a few silent tears would find their way down her cheeks, but other than that - nothing.
Feeling movement along his pant leg, the blonde looked down. Annoyance flared as he watched Willow’s cat rub more of her fur onto his black pants - as if there wasn’t enough of it already decorating his house. Between the cat and his dog, Barney, Chris wondered if there was any furniture under all the pet hair. Barney, at least, had learned to stay out of certain areas of the house.
Seeing the feline continuously twine herself around his legs, depositing more light coloured fur with every pass, Chris glared. A full-blown, lethal dosage of the Larabee glare.
Which Miss Kitty studiously ignored.
“Better watch it, Cat.” he warned the animal. “Or I’ll let Barney use you as a chew toy.”
The dark husky had taken an instant dislike to the feline - a case of two alphas for one pack. It was only due to the tight control Chris had over the dog that saved the cat from serious damage. Though at times Chris wished he’d let the dog take a piece out of the furball, just to put her in her place.
In response to his threat, Miss Kitty held her head high and flicked her tail as she made her way out to Willow’s side through the open patio door.
With one more glance at the sombre red head, Chris’ decision was made. He would help her move past this point, like she had done for him.
Turning from the window, he left to make some preparations.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two hours later, Chris silently congratulated himself. After gathering some items from the house, he’d saddled the horses and gone to retrieve his daughter. Neither had said a word as he took her hand and led her to the barn.
A small smile had curved her lips as she renewed her acquaintance with her chocolate and white horse - Cookie Crumble.
Remembering Willow’s smile had evaporated any annoyance he held in regards to the animal’s name.
“Why are we here?” asked Willow curiously, looking around the clearing they had stopped at. They were the first words she’d spoken in longer than he cared to remember.
Following her gaze around the hidden glen, Chris had no trouble deciphering what was going through her mind. She’d only been here once before, but knew that this was his special place. This was where he came to remember Sarah and Adam - a place not even Buck knew about.
Memories of the past filled Chris’ head; specific moments in his past that were inextricably linked to this place.
He remembered saying ‘I love you’ to a petite blonde he’d only known a few weeks. Later, proposing to the same woman after a candlelight picnic. He remembered the same woman all but ordering him to find the child of his out there somewhere, saying that she would adore him or her simply because they were a part of Chris. A thousand moments of his small family spending time playing and laughing in the sun in this same clearing.
There were so many happy memories for him, that this was where he’d brought Willow when they’d spread his family’s ashes - all that was left after the explosive fire.
Without saying a word, Chris dismounted, reached into his saddle bags, and pulled out a rather plain-looking clay pot. Motioning for her to follow him, Chris moved toward the large patch of wild-flowers that bloomed without fail every year.
Hearing her come to a stop beside him, Chris turned to her, holding out the jar.
“It’s time to let her rest.” he said quietly, repeating her own words back to her, from the only other time she’d been to the glen.
’You need to let them rest.’ Fifteen-year-old Willow told her bleary-eyed father, not totally convinced that he was even remotely sober. It had been an indescribable battle to get him out here in the first place, and he still seemed determined to hold out until the bitter end. ‘Clinging so tightly to their memories will slowly destroy your own life.’
‘What if that’s what I want?!’ he rasped angrily back, his voice as rough as his unshaven face. They both knew he wasn’t really mad at her, but her presence gave his anger and loss something to focus on. ‘They were my everything - my world. Now, I have nothing.’
‘You have me.’ she said quietly after a moment, and even through the alcohol and anger, the father inside him heard the underlying question of her worth to him. His anger deflating even as his shoulders slumped in place.
‘Yes.’ he replied softly, looking at the future of his family, finding something worth living for, once he started looking. ‘I do.’
The daughter he loved beyond reason.
“I don’t know if I can.” Willow told him, tears beginning to fill her eyes. “I have this gaping hole where my heart used to be, but at the same time my chest feels tight - constricted - like it’s about to burst.”
“You can’t hole-up in your memories, shutting the world out.” he told her gently. “Tara wouldn’t have wanted that.”
Tears began to silently fall down her face at the truth behind his words. Tara wouldn’t have wanted her to grieve to the point of self-destruction.
“What if I can’t do it?” she asked, still not facing Chris and the offering he held out. “What if I’m not strong enough to go on alone?”
“No one said you had to do this alone.” he told her, finally becoming the focus of her teary gaze. “Let her spirit rest. She’ll always live on in your memories. You need to cherish them, not exist in them.”
Holding the jar further toward her, Chris willed her to take it with every part of his being.
“Is that . . . her?” Willow asked shakily, motioning to the clay jar he still held at arms length.
“I called the Sunnydale morgue and found they’d already cremated her body, so I had them send it here.” he explained, conveniently not mentioning that he’d used some magic in the endeavour. He justified it by arguing that it was the only way to get the witch’s remains sent to a non-relative, without any paperwork or other stumbling blocks.
“Tara would have loved this place.” she commented, finally taking the container that held what remained of her lover into trembling hands. She absently noted that it was the same handmade urn that had held Sarah and Adam more than seven years ago. “Will they mind? Sharing this place, I mean?”
“I think they’ll love the company.” Chris answered truthfully.
The breeze picked up, as if the ghosts that resided there answered on their own. The faint scent of jasmine wafted across her senses, and Willow felt as if Sarah herself had bestowed her blessing.
Smiling softly, Willow moved a few paces toward the centre of the glen, clay jar clasped firmly against her chest.
“I will always love you.” Willow began, speaking into the air, where hopefully Tara’s spirit resided and listened. “You saw parts of me that no one ever has before, and loved me even more because of them. I will always keep you in my heart, even though I lost a big part of it when you - you left.”
“I still can’t say it, because it doesn’t seem real at times. I keep expecting to wake up next to you, finding out that this was all a horrible dream. But it ‘s not a dream, and I need to let go of that. I miss you with every beat of my heart, and I will for a long time to come. I know I can’t hold on to you forever, but I will love you for as long as my soul exists. Good-bye my love.”
“Oh, and take good care of Sarah and Adam. We both still miss them very much, and I’m sure you’ll get along really well.”
With that, Willow opened the earthen pot and allowed the sudden breeze to catch Tara’s ashes as they fell, spreading them around the tranquil clearing. There truly was something mystical about this glen, as the jasmine scented breeze spread the ash to the boundaries of the clearing, and no further.
With a few final tears, Willow turned and went back to her horse. She needed time to absorb what had just happened, and begin making plans for the future. A great weight had been lifted off her shoulders, but the ache still remained in her head and in her heart.
Chris watched her go, his own heart lightening a little. He’d known exactly what she was going through, especially when it came to the strength of her emotions. Willow was very much like him, in that they both felt everything very deeply. It was a trait that remained in their family since the early days - when they fell in love, it was fast and hard. The loss of a loved one hit even harder, and more than a few of his ancestors hadn’t survived it.
“Take good care of her.” Chris whispered into the wind. “I love you both.”
Turning, the blonde man made his way to his daughter and the horses, all the while mentally making plans for the next few days.
He would start her formal training tomorrow, but first there was a task that needed to be done that day.
He needed to take his daughter shopping. She’d been living in what was left in her room, but clothes that worked when she was fourteen wouldn’t work long term.
As he mentally racked up everything she would need, Chris silently groaned. A full day of shopping loomed in his future. Memories of hauling Adam around behind him, as he followed Sarah and Willow from store to store filled his mind.
But he would endure it all, just to see his not-so-little girl smile.
End Part 10
Part 11 - Justifiable Homicide
“But I don’t need all of this!” Willow stated for the dozenth time, trying to make her father see reason.
Chris closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten in his head.
Then twenty.
They’d had this same argument in every store. Willow didn’t see why she needed a whole new wardrobe, which Chris insisted he buy since she’d only brought the clothes on her back to Denver.
He silently wondered where she’d gotten this stubborn streak from, before deciding it must have come from her mother.
“I have a whole closet full of clothes at the Ranch.” she argued - again.
“Which have been there since you were fifteen.” Chris replied back - again.
Turning to the sales associate, he ignored the slight twitch in her lips as he told her to wrap everything up, overriding the red head’s protests. This was the sixth store they’d been to, and in every one the sales people had given him the same amused look as he argued with his daughter.
His bad-ass reputation would be in ruins by nightfall. But it was well worth it just to see the fire back in Willow’s eyes.
“You’re unbelievable!” Willow exclaimed, annoyed that he was completely ignoring her objections. Noting the small smile on the sales lady’s face as she packed up and rang in the clothes, Willow refused to become angry with her when it was clearly all her father’s fault. This was a well-established pattern for the day - her arguments and wishes being ridden over by Chris and the sales staff of whatever store they happen to be in. After catching sight of a flicking tail from underneath the skirt of a sales girl in the third store, Willow realized she wouldn’t be getting any help on that front - not against ‘Chris Larabee, Guardian of the flipping Demon Community’.
“I just want you to have an appropriate wardrobe for any occasion.” he told her.
“Appropriate for what?” she demanded as he grabbed the bags of even more clothes. “Mucking out the barn and sitting on a rock watching grass grow doesn’t need anything more than jeans and a t-shirt.”
“Sitting and what?!” he demanded, trying to sort out what she was saying - not always an easy endeavour.
“You know - meditating.” she explained as they finally left the store.
“I don’t meditate!”
“Well maybe you should!”
Gritting his teeth, Chris refused the urge to glare, knowing it had no effect on her.
“Are we done yet?” she asked after a few moments of silence. While she loved to spend time with him, this expedition rated right up there with gouging her eyes out with a toothpick.
“One more stop after we drop these in the truck.” Chris replied, ignoring the red head’s sounds of exasperation.
Some time later, Chris felt a smile pull at his lips. Willow’s face as she looked around the restaurant was everything he could have hoped for. Her eyes had yet to stop moving, as she tried to take in everything at once.
He’d brought her to lunch at ‘The Other Side’, a cafe/restaurant/bar whose clientele consisted mainly of demons and supernatural humans. It was a main gathering place for those of non-human origin.
Chris remembered how her irritation had steadily fled as they passed from room to room, each designed with a specific theme or atmosphere in mind. From the standard café look that comprised the front room to the humidity and darkness that was reminiscent of the Kashik’s hibernation nest, it was truly a meeting of worlds. He’d taken her around the long way, hoping that she’d see what he saw every time he came here. That this was where worlds truly met. He had a long range plan in mind, and this was only the first step.
She was currently trying to look like she was not staring at the Chaos demon having a nice dinner with a Koresh demon. Chris could understand where the fascination lay, as the two species were at different ends of the spectrum. The Chaos demon, while quite distinguishable with his antlers and slime, acted almost human and civil in every aspect of life, while the big, broad shouldered Koresh demon only vaguely looked anything resembling human with his red and green arm and back spikes - not to mention being nocturnal in nature. Even their environments were vastly different, the Koresh tribes preferring to roam the jungles, while Chaos demons preferred the solitary life, bumming from town to town in the more moderate climates which wouldn’t cause their pores to secrete even more mucus. The fact that they were perfectly comfortable in what JD had termed the Rock Room - so named due to everything being made of stone - said more than anything.
“Corbin and Sid.” Chris said softly in her ear, jerking the red head out of her deep observations.
“Huh?”
“Corbin’s the Koresh demon - an old friend of Vin’s, and Sid is the Chaos demon.” he explained, motioning to the couple that had held her interest so intently. “They’ve been together for almost two years.”
“Togethe - Oh.” Willow blushed as she realized what he meant.
“It’s very - odd.” she said after a moment, attempting to turn his attention off her red face.
“Maybe, but they fit somehow.” he told her. “They won’t be the only ‘odd’ pairing you’ll see.”
“What?”“ he asked her as she tilted her red head to the side, as if contemplating something of the utmost importance, her nose scrunching as she tried to figure out the answer.
“How do they . . . you know?” she asked blushing, just before her eyes widened and a horrified look came across her face. “Actually, I don’t think I really want to know!” came her hasty declaration.
Chris just laughed out loud as even more blood rushed to her face.
“So - when do we get to order around here?” she asked, deliberately trying to change the topic.
“I already did. You were too busy ogling the love birds to notice, but the waitress did stop by.”
“But-“
“Don’t worry, I ordered for you.”
“If you ordered off the children’s menu again, I’m gonna have to hurt you.” she said in a semi-cheerful voice, making her threat all the more serious.
Before either of them could open the can of worms that was the Shrimp Shack incident, a familiar, boisterous voice caught their attention.
“Chris, old dawg!” greeted Buck as he strode across the stone floor, a green-eyed Southerner in his wake.
“Buck. Ezra.” Chris returned steadily.
“And Miss Willow of the Red Hair.” the big man greeted Willow almost formally as he slid next to her on the stone bench.
“Hello Buck.” she replied carefully, holding herself very still. He’d always made her feel mildly uncomfortable, mostly due to his size and fondness of showing his emotions physically. For Willow, who grew up with very few affectionate touches from her parents or friends - namely Xander - Buck’s need to always be touching those he felt affection for, disconcerted her.
Noticing her discomfort, Ezra decided a timely distraction was needed, more specifically in the form of himself.
“Ezra Standish, at your service.” he greeted, holding out a hand for hers. “Mr. Wilmington, with his total lack of acceptable manners has failed to introduce us properly, Miss-?”
“Oh! Just call me Willow.” she answered, a bright smile on her face as she placed her small hand in his, ignoring Buck’s indignant sputtering. “And his manners aren’t any better.” she told him, tossing her head in Chris’ direction. “They probably both got them at the same cut-rate store - I’d demand a refund if I were them.”
Ezra merely raised an eyebrow in the blonde’s direction. Not many could completely ignore Larabee when he chose to level the full force of his glare on them, but this young woman was doing an admirable job of it.
“She’s family.” Chris said in response to Ezra’s questioning glance, which to the Southerner explained a great deal.
“You’ve got some nerve there, little girl.” commented Buck, smiling in spite of the insults he’d just been delivered. Willow had the same way with Chris that Sarah had, deliberately risking the blonde’s legendary wrath, but with the supreme confidence that the most he would do would be to grumble and bitch for awhile.
“Pfft.” was her comment, waving it off with a weak wave. “The way he’s been completely ignoring my wishes all day, he’s lucky if that’s all I do.”
“Mr. Larabee.” chided Ezra. “What could have possibly possessed you to ignore such a lovely creature as Miss Willow?”
“She didn’t have to argue over every single purchase.” replied Chris.
“You didn’t have to buy out half of Denver, either!” was Willow’s response.
“Miss Willow, am I to understand that you were attempting to decline items purchased for you by Mr Larabee?” asked Ezra, looking pale and shaken at the thought of turning down free gifts.
“I don’t need all those clothes.” she told him, before turning to Buck, hoping for an ally. “I don’t know how we’re both going to fit inside the truck to get home. It’s completely filled with bags from half the clothing stores in Denver. I already have a closet full of them back home.”
A decidedly male-type squeak turned her attention back to the dark haired Southerner, who was in too much shock to even attempt to hide the horror gloriously displayed on his usually well-schooled face.
“Which have all been there since you were fifteen.” argued Chris - again. He was getting tired of this same argument between them, and the other males at the table knew it. “You’ve gotten bigger since then.”
He immediately knew he’d doomed himself, when her eyes narrowed and her entire body stilled, as she readied herself to pounce on the wounded prey.
“Bigger? How?” she asked in a dangerous voice that Chris had learned early on from Sarah meant that something very bad was about to hit the fan he was standing under.
The other males at the table froze, as they too recognized the situation - the ‘no-win’ situation that Chris had just stumbled into. Buck tried to be the loyal friend he was and help Chris out, but a feminine “Back off, Buck.” halted any further attempts.
“I’m still waiting.” Willow commented, eyes never leaving the frozen features of her father. She knew she was being unfair and over-sensitive, but he’d forced her to endure hours of playing dress-up with ‘helpful’ sales girls, and this was her small bit of payback.
As much as Ezra was enjoying watching his leader trying to once again make the lovely red head smile, he decided to help out, as he was just as interested in making her happy again, as well.
“Unfortunately I never had the pleasure of making your acquaintance at the no-doubt precocious age of fifteen, but I would hazard a guess and say that you most certainly have grown in the interim - in all the appropriate areas, I might add.” Ezra put in silkily.
“Yeah, you’ve matured nicely, darling.” added Buck appreciatively, not to be left out by the smooth-talking con man.
Willow looked at Buck, at the man she’d always thought of as her Dad’s best friend - almost an honorary uncle - and said the first thing that came to her mind.
“Ewwww!”
“I agree.” added Chris, glaring harshly at his oldest friend, his gaze promising dire consequences should any idea even remotely like that ever enter his over-sexed head again.
A waitress bearing food luckily chose that moment to deliver their food, effectively diverting Willow from potentially gutting her father, and Chris took it for the blessing that it was.
“What are you boys doing here?” he asked them, effectively changing the subject.
“Mr Wilmington, after being summarily rejected by Ms Recillos this morning, the womanizing swine has come to ply his somewhat dubious charms on the owner of this fine establishment. I, however, am here to recover fiscally from a rather high stakes game of chance, of which I was the winner. In fact . . . Irwin!” Ezra called out as he quickly followed a blue and purple demon that had fled the room at the first sight of him.
“Buck got shot down by Inez and has come to try his luck with Lanka, and Ez is collecting from a bet he won.” Chris summarized when Willow looked to him for a translation. “Though he won’t have much luck, seeing as this is Lanka’s day off.”
“No it ain’t.” returned Buck, a big grin plastered on his face. “Two of her staff quit to go nest in the mountains together, so Lanka’s been working fourteen hour days ever since.”
“Shit!” The only reason he’d brought Willow here today, was because he was under the mistaken impression that the woman in question was elsewhere.
“Am I not suppose to like this Lanka person?” asked Willow between bites.
“Naw, Lanka’s great.” Buck explained, his grin getting bigger each second, if that were possible. “She just bosses Chris around like he’s no one special. She’s the only other person I know of that can look him straight in the glare and kick his ass out the door.” In fact, Buck was almost positive that if there had been even a hint of sexual chemistry between the two, Lanka would have dragged Chris to the altar long ago, with a happy smile on both their faces. “You’ll get along fine.” he reassured Willow.
A strong voice bellowed his name from the other side of the room, and Chris closed his eyes in resignation.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” said Chris under his breath before turning to greet the woman he was sure would make his afternoon as unpleasant as Willow’s morning had been. The woman lived to torment him.
“Hello, Lanka.”
And he resigned himself to making nice with the woman his daughter was already smiling at.
This was going to be a long day.
End Part 11
A/N: The single line that inspired the entire shopping scene, but I couldn’t manage to fit it in anywhere - Willow to Chris:
“You are such a girl!”
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