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lyl_devilSo, I finally got Part 12 written (2 1/2 years later -> ::happydance::) and since I want to post this on LJ, I figured I should just post all the parts. However, in an effort to not spam my flist, I'll try to put multiple parts in each post.
Title: Cat’s in the Cradle (1-3/?)
Author: Lyl
Rating: PG-13
Distribution: List archives, Twisting the Hellmouth, any other, please ask
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters from either Buffy or the Magnificent Seven, though the plot and a few original characters are mine.
Spoilers: Buffy - up to end of Season 6, M7 - it’s an AU, so not really any
Feedback: Yes, please. Constructive criticism is always welcome, though flames will be used to roast marshmallows as I drink beer and laugh at you.
Summary: Willow doesn’t go to England with Giles, but somewhere else... Crossover with a Magnificent Seven AU
Mourning Comes Softly
Willow didn’t think the tears would ever stop.
Great wracking sobs that tore through her body like a garden hose through tissue. Her throat hurt, her eyes were puffy and her nose refused to stop running. She could feel the tight skin of her face, evidence of previous tears, hours old.
And with every sob, the black bands of misery seemed to tighten even more around her heart. The hair framing her red and swollen face was wet and stringy with her ever-present tears.
Shouldn’t there be a point where her body would no longer be able to produce the rivers of saline that was drowning her and her human ‘pillow’? But every time the witch considered stopping, the memories of why she was crying in the first place returned.
Her Tara was dead. Her love.
She would never hear that throaty laugh again - the one kept for private jokes between them. No more waking up to a sweet good morning kiss. No more walking into a room and smelling the flowery scent that belonged to Tara, and Tara alone. No more goofy grins on Willow’s face when she found an impossibly long strand of blonde hair on her clothes, hours after seeing her last. No more looking into a pair of soft and loving eyes, and knowing that whatever else she might be, she was simply beautiful to Tara.
No more kisses. No more secret glances. No more accidental brushes of their hands. No more not-so-accidental brushes. No more laughter . . . smiles . . . touches . . . secret sunrises . . .
No more love.
But most importantly . . .
No more Tara.
No one to stop her nervous babbling with simply a touch and a look. No one to nod and smile encouragingly during her excited babbling. No one to share her love of magic with - or say a word of caution when she attempted new spells.
No one to pull her back when she went too far - as was demonstrated earlier.
After Tara had broken up with her, Willow had felt miserable and depressed, but nothing like this - even with the withdrawal. Then, she had still been able to see Tara, know she was OK, and one day - hopefully - return to her. Not so this time. Tara wasn’t coming back, despite her best efforts.
Ever.
Another sob tore through her tired body, but still Willow couldn’t seem to stop. The hand that had been carding slowly through her hair, gradually increased in frequency with her new bout of sobbing.
Xander.
He hadn’t left her. He’d picked her up in his arms and carried her back to Buffy’s house. Her big, strong, carpenter-of-a-best friend had carried her like a child, and she’d never felt safer.
He’d been right with her the entire time, her head in his lap, letting her soak his jeans with her never-ending tears while running a hand through her damp red hair. He hadn’t said a word since the cliff, and neither had she. He’d simply lain her on the sofa and been her tower - or pillow - of strength as she poured out her grief.
“Mrww.”
Opening her red-rimmed eyes, Willow came nose to nose with the only other creature to love Tara as much as she had.
Large green feline eyes stared into teary human ones, looking for something in particular.
“Hey, Miss Kitty.” she whispered, though the words came out more as a rasp after hours of crying.
“Mrow?” the feline seemed to ask, neither blinking to break the shared stare.
“Sh-...she’s g-“Willow tried to tell the cat, but the words wouldn’t seem to leave her. Saying the words made everything so much more real, not just some horrible nightmare. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Willow forced the words out.
“Tara’s dead. She’s not coming back.” The last was for her own benefit, re-enforcing the harsh reality of Tara’s death. But it still didn’t feel quite real. She felt like she was free-floating in time, not really connected with actual events. Willow knew she wasn’t dreaming - knew that it was all too real - but that didn’t stop the sense of unreality she’d been feeling since Tara had dropped to the bedroom floor. She felt detached, like she was watching a TV show, too engrossed to pull away.
Willow was abruptly pulled out of her depressing thoughts by a sudden movement on the couch, followed quickly by a slight jolt from her pillow. Opening her eyes, she saw that Miss Kitty had climbed onto the sofa - via Xander’s jean-clad legs - and was currently making herself comfortable against Willow’s chest, her soft fur tickling the witch’s chin.
“Sorry, Wills.” Xander apologized softly. “Cat has sharp claws.” he said by way of explanation.
Moving a hand to slowly stroke Miss Kitty’s soft fur, Willow felt the feline begin to vibrate.
“Rrrrrr. Rrrrrrr.”
And Willow’s tears dried up.
“Wills?” Xander asked softly, wanting to make sure his friend was still with him. Looking down, a small smile graced his features as he saw the small curve to her lips. “Is that a smile I see?” he teased, continuing to run a hand through her hair.
“I was just remembering...” she trailed off, as if unwilling to share a precious memory. “She’s so much like Tara.” Willow stated, continuously petting the purring fur ball that had curled up against her.
“Tara could sense my mood almost instantly. She knew when to leave me alone, and when not to.” Willow paused, savouring her cherished memories of the girl she had loved to distraction. “She knew the exact moment when a cuddle could make even the worst problems seem silly and far away.”
Xander said nothing, but continued to comfort his oldest and closest friend. They had both done this same thing after Jesse died - re-living the cherished memories they had of their friend.
“We were going to get another cat.” Willow told him, breaking the silence. “A kitty friend for Miss Kitty.” she clarified. “I asked Tara if we should get a girl kitty, because - hello - she was our cat and all; maybe she was gay too and that’s why she liked us so much. Tara said that a boy cat is what Miss Kitty wanted. I asked her if she was sure, and she got her ‘secret’ smile. You know, that smile she always got when she knew the answer to some silly thing I’d wondered about. Tara said that Miss Kitty was definitely a straight Kitty - like she was totally sure of the answer.
“Miss Kitty was always Tara’s cat, more than mine. They took to each other right away.”
More silence followed as they both relived their best memories of the blonde witch.
“A gay cat, Willow?” Xander teased, the smile evident in his voice.
Willow remained silent as the stroking of his hand and the purring of Miss Kitty Fantastico continued, lulling her into sleep with a small, sad smile on her face.
End Part 1
Pieces Kept
Wake up, Willow.
“-can’t remain here, Buffy.” Willow woke to hear Giles saying.
“Giles-“
“She cannot remain untutored in magic.” The watcher interrupted. Willow could feel the Slayer’s stubborn pout form behind closed eyes. Buffy didn’t like anyone telling her what she could and couldn’t do - even Giles. Though him she listened to more than others, before going her own way. “The amount of black magic she absorbed, even trained witches with a full coven to back them up, they rarely come out of it alive, or even sane.” Giles continued, unaware that his audience had just increased by one. “With her previous addiction to those same dark magics, it will be even harder for her to resist the power now inside of her.”
“But England?” she heard Buffy question, slightly unsure but sounding almost convinced that her old Watcher was right.
“They are one of the more powerful covens, Buffy, and they are willing to help.” Giles answered the blonde. Willow could hear it in Giles voice as he spoke - he was determined to bring her back to England. Tired, but determined.
“Why can’t you just teach her here? Bring the whole coven?” Buffy suggested. Willow could hear her getting more excited the more she spoke. “It could be a group outing. You know, ‘See the Hellmouth - Cure the witch’. I mean, how long could it take?”
There was complete silence for a moment before Giles could bring himself to speak again - at least, that was Willow’s theory when she heard how aghast he sounded when he finally regained the power of speech.
“Buffy. You cannot simply ‘move’ a coven, especially across half the planet! The travel plans and arrangements necessary for every member, their significant other, family members and familiars, alone, are almost incomprehensible. Needless to say the sheer quantity of supplies they would need to bring, and any travelling requires precise timing of lunar cycles and earth rotations, as well as making sure to avoid magical ‘hot spots’ while finding adequate housing where the ley lines happen to intersect-“
“All right! All right!” Buffy interrupted, sounding as overwhelmed as Willow felt. The witch had never been privy to the coven structure before - UC Sunnydale Wicca Group excluded - so this was all new to her. Well, for the most part. Just because neither Giles, Jenny Calendar nor Tara had ever brought it up, didn’t mean that Willow didn’t know about the basics of a coven. In fact, none of them knew just how far into her studies she’d gotten - before her addiction and without their help.
“The ideal solution is for Willow to return to England with me.” Giles told Buffy, being as gentle as he could. “To be some place other than the Hellmouth.”
“Why don’t you tell them the real reason you want her across the ocean, Giles?!” came a slightly hysterical and panicked voice.
Willow’s eyes snapped open at that, taking in Anya as she confronted the slightly annoyed Watcher and confused Slayer.
“What’s she talking about, Giles?” asked Buffy, turning her whole body to face her old Watcher.
“Tell them about how Little Miss ‘Let’s Destroy the World’ sent out a magical call through the supernatural community on two continents and three different planes of existence!” Anya’s shrill voice rose with every word. “Tell them how every being bent on world destruction or domination will be heading straight for this little slice of Hell! Or maybe just mention the hundreds of bounty hunters bound to show up soon, so they can be the one to claim the head of the ‘Dark Witch’!”
The entire room listened in horror, imagining what any one of those people could do to Willow if they ever got their hands on her.
“Is that true?” asked Xander, speaking up for the first time.
Reluctantly, Giles nodded.
“Will she be any safer in England?” was his next question, causing Willow to smile inwardly. Everyone was worried about her becoming a weapon against them, but Xander was worried about her. His best friend.
“The coven will protect her as best they can, until she can protect herself without falling into the dark arts again.” Giles replied after a moment.
But it was a moment too long for Willow. Her actions were continuing to put people in danger. First, her friends, and now this coven of witches she’d never even heard of before today.
However, she didn’t see any viable alternative.
“It’s a yes or no question, Giles!” Xander pushed, coming to the same conclusion Willow had - if someone more powerful came after Willow, the coven may not be able to protect her.
“I’ll go.” The words left her mouth before she had consciously thought them. She wouldn’t put her friends in danger, but she also wouldn’t put people she’d never met before in danger, either. At the first sign that the coven was in trouble because of her, she would leave. No one else would die because of what she’d done.
“Wills. You don’t have to go. We’ll deal with whatever-“
“I’ll go pack.” Willow interrupted Buffy. Any more well-intentioned pleas to stay from her friends, and she would - damn the consequences. “When do we leave?” she asked Giles, rising from her position on Xander’s lap.
“The flight leaves at 8:45 a.m., tomorrow. We should be there for 7:00 a.m. at the latest.” Giles informed her, his face devoid of all thoughts.
“Ok. Goodnight.” was said over her shoulder as she strode from the room, leaving silence behind her.
End Part 2
Voices in My Head
Once in her bedroom, Willow sat on the edge of the bed, willing her tears not to spill.
The room still smelled of Tara - of her life, not her death.
Maybe she shouldn’t have come alone, but she didn’t want any comforting or pitying gestures. Willow just wanted to bask in her memories - relive her memories of Tara, alive and smiling, not dead . . .
Looking to the floor, where her lover had fallen, Willow was amazed that there wasn’t anything to suggest that anyone had died. The police and other officials had come and gone already, apparently cleaning up before they left. Glancing at the window that still held a small hole, surrounded by a star burst of cracks, Willow mused that not everything had been removed.
Her gaze went back and forth between the ‘SPOT’ and the window, again and again. Back and forth. Floor to window to floor to window to floor . . .
Turning abruptly, she threw herself face down into the pillow so no one would hear her as the tears started to fall again. The almost soundless tears turned into agonizing, gut-wrenching sobs as she was enveloped by the same scent that permeated the room.
Tara’s pillow. The same pillow she’d lain her blonde head upon less than 48 hours ago.
As her tears continued to soak the pillow, Willow couldn’t help but think that it should have been her, instead. If Tara had been the one to live, she never would have gone mad with the magics as Willow had. There would be no demons, power hungry witches or determined bounty hunters about to descend upon the Hellmouth.
It would all be better.
Stop that line of thinking immediately, Willow Anne! The order popped into her head before she could go any further, startling her out of her crying and self-flagellation.
Go away! She told the familiar presence, not in the frame of mind to deal with him at the moment. Just leave me ALONE! Willow reiterated, not really wanting the comforting presence gone, but not willing to hear how she had screwed up - again - from the only person whose opinion mattered more than Giles’.
We all make mistakes, Willow. he stated. And do you really think I’m in any position to tell you what a mess you’ve made? Pot and kettle, Willow. she was reminded.
What are you doing in my head? She asked after a moment of silence. They had often talked this way, but not for a while now. It couldn’t be a coincidence that he sought her out after months of silence, especially given what Anya had said earlier.
The Watcher’s right. You can’t stay in Sunnydale.
I’m going to England with Giles. Willow told him in a quiet tone, ignoring that he’d been in her head long before she became aware of him. She didn’t really want to head across the Atlantic, but didn’t see any viable alternatives that didn’t involve putting those she loved in danger.
Come to Denver. came the offer, stated simply and concisely. That was the way he was. Demand or order, and then if someone didn’t comply he would either stare them into submission, using what Willow had dubbed ‘the GLARE’, or argue with them until they gave in. However, early on he’d discovered that neither route seemed to work on the red head. She’d counter his GLARE with her RESOLVE FACE, or argue with him using a twisted logic that left him reeling and unsure of when he’d lost control of the conversation.
Since Glaring was out, the alternate route was going to be used, and this time he was determined to win.
There’s a coven in England that can help me learn control. Willow was desperate to learn to control this new power, to not be looked at like she was going to go ‘Destructo Girl’ at any moment - again. Buffy’s words from earlier came back to her, constantly repeating in her head - ‘Cure the witch’. Like she was sick and just needed to relax and drink plenty of fluids, and she would be all better. Back to normal.
But before she could even think about controlling her magic, she needed to control her emotions. How long would it take before they started demanding she get over it? She’d been given three weeks to get over Oz, would they allow another week or two because Tara had died and they’d been together longer? Would the coven in England be any different?
There’s a coven in Denver that will be more than happy to help. he countered. And if you ever tell them I called them that, you’ll live to regret it. his deep voice warned her, using a tone that sent shivers down the spines of demons and master vampires alike.
Pfffft.
Why is it you never take my threats seriously? he asked with a sigh of resignation. Everyone else does.
Because you’d rather die than hurt me. It was the one thing she had never doubted since she was eight.
I’d take on the world for you, Willow.
Tears glistened in her eyes, the first outward sign of the conversation going on within. However, for the first time today, they weren’t shed out of sadness.
Come to Denver. he repeated.
I don’t want to put you in any danger. Willow told him, Anya’s words still echoing in her ears. Demons, vampires, black witches and bounty hunters, all following her wherever she went. The full weight of that little tidbit had yet to fully sink in yet, but when it did Willow was sure that it would be followed immediately by a panic attack of epic proportions, combined with new levels of ‘terrifying’.
Denver is the safest place for you.
Giles really wants me to go with him. Willow vainly tried to find a good enough reason to refuse, but was coming up short - and was quickly losing the will to try.
I want you with me.
I miss you. he said after a pause. In a softer tone, he pressed on before she could say anything else. I want to spend time with you - to teach you properly, like I was taught - and I want to get to know you better.
Giles wants to leave in the morning; the tickets are booked and everything. she told him, wanting desperately to accept his offer, but still wary of disappointing the English Watcher or her friends - friends who all had a cautious look in their eyes, as if waiting for her to suck them all into hell.
But is that what you want? he asked gently.
Denver. Willow finally said, feeling like she was betraying her friends with a single word and thought. I want to go to Denver.
Despite what Giles thought, she knew Denver was the safest place on Earth for her. She remembered the last time she was there - when her powers were just starting to emerge - the city and surrounding areas felt like a big, fuzzy blanket that screamed ‘safe’.
You haven’t been back in more than two years. he reminded her gently.
It was true, she realized. She’d been there every summer since she was eight years old, but had missed the last year to stay and protect the Hellmouth that was without a Slayer.
Barney misses you, too. he told her, speaking of the large husky he called his pet - though it was debatable who was the master. So does your damn horse. was added grudgingly, his distaste for the animal palpable.
Willow missed her beloved horse, too - a gift from him the summer she was sixteen.
I’ll come to Denver, if you say her name. she unashamedly blackmailed. Both knew that her decision was already made, but he still put up a token protest.
No.
Please? she pleaded, a smile teasing across her lips. I’m making a pouty face. Willow warned him.
Not enough whiskey in the world.
... and here come the puppy dog eyes . . .
Nice try, but ‘no’.
Do I really need to bat my eyes, too?
All right! All right! Cookie Crumbles! Are you happy now? he grouched, breaking under the pitiful onslaught, as he always did. Silently he wondered how she managed to come up with silly names for the animals around her. If he hadn’t fought tooth and nail, his dog would have been called Rocky Road Racer.
A giggle was his only reply, making his discomfort worthwhile.
I’ll meet you at the airport in the morning.
But, how will you know -
Trust me, Willow. cutting her off before she could get a good ‘babble’ going. I’ll find you, and I’ll have one of the boys with me.
Okay. she agreed quietly, though there was no need for her assent. She was actually glad that he was taking charge. It was nice to let someone else take care of everything for a change.
Don’t worry about packing. Bring your laptop and the cat; anything else you need we can get once you’re here. Now get some sleep - let me worry about everything else.
Okay. she repeated sleepily, his commanding presence enough to relax her even now.
Night, Daddy.
Goodnight, darling girl.
A smile graced her face as the witch fell asleep, comforted in the fact that her father could - and would - make everything all right.
End Part 3
Next Part
Title: Cat’s in the Cradle (1-3/?)
Author: Lyl
Rating: PG-13
Distribution: List archives, Twisting the Hellmouth, any other, please ask
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters from either Buffy or the Magnificent Seven, though the plot and a few original characters are mine.
Spoilers: Buffy - up to end of Season 6, M7 - it’s an AU, so not really any
Feedback: Yes, please. Constructive criticism is always welcome, though flames will be used to roast marshmallows as I drink beer and laugh at you.
Summary: Willow doesn’t go to England with Giles, but somewhere else... Crossover with a Magnificent Seven AU
Mourning Comes Softly
Willow didn’t think the tears would ever stop.
Great wracking sobs that tore through her body like a garden hose through tissue. Her throat hurt, her eyes were puffy and her nose refused to stop running. She could feel the tight skin of her face, evidence of previous tears, hours old.
And with every sob, the black bands of misery seemed to tighten even more around her heart. The hair framing her red and swollen face was wet and stringy with her ever-present tears.
Shouldn’t there be a point where her body would no longer be able to produce the rivers of saline that was drowning her and her human ‘pillow’? But every time the witch considered stopping, the memories of why she was crying in the first place returned.
Her Tara was dead. Her love.
She would never hear that throaty laugh again - the one kept for private jokes between them. No more waking up to a sweet good morning kiss. No more walking into a room and smelling the flowery scent that belonged to Tara, and Tara alone. No more goofy grins on Willow’s face when she found an impossibly long strand of blonde hair on her clothes, hours after seeing her last. No more looking into a pair of soft and loving eyes, and knowing that whatever else she might be, she was simply beautiful to Tara.
No more kisses. No more secret glances. No more accidental brushes of their hands. No more not-so-accidental brushes. No more laughter . . . smiles . . . touches . . . secret sunrises . . .
No more love.
But most importantly . . .
No more Tara.
No one to stop her nervous babbling with simply a touch and a look. No one to nod and smile encouragingly during her excited babbling. No one to share her love of magic with - or say a word of caution when she attempted new spells.
No one to pull her back when she went too far - as was demonstrated earlier.
After Tara had broken up with her, Willow had felt miserable and depressed, but nothing like this - even with the withdrawal. Then, she had still been able to see Tara, know she was OK, and one day - hopefully - return to her. Not so this time. Tara wasn’t coming back, despite her best efforts.
Ever.
Another sob tore through her tired body, but still Willow couldn’t seem to stop. The hand that had been carding slowly through her hair, gradually increased in frequency with her new bout of sobbing.
Xander.
He hadn’t left her. He’d picked her up in his arms and carried her back to Buffy’s house. Her big, strong, carpenter-of-a-best friend had carried her like a child, and she’d never felt safer.
He’d been right with her the entire time, her head in his lap, letting her soak his jeans with her never-ending tears while running a hand through her damp red hair. He hadn’t said a word since the cliff, and neither had she. He’d simply lain her on the sofa and been her tower - or pillow - of strength as she poured out her grief.
“Mrww.”
Opening her red-rimmed eyes, Willow came nose to nose with the only other creature to love Tara as much as she had.
Large green feline eyes stared into teary human ones, looking for something in particular.
“Hey, Miss Kitty.” she whispered, though the words came out more as a rasp after hours of crying.
“Mrow?” the feline seemed to ask, neither blinking to break the shared stare.
“Sh-...she’s g-“Willow tried to tell the cat, but the words wouldn’t seem to leave her. Saying the words made everything so much more real, not just some horrible nightmare. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Willow forced the words out.
“Tara’s dead. She’s not coming back.” The last was for her own benefit, re-enforcing the harsh reality of Tara’s death. But it still didn’t feel quite real. She felt like she was free-floating in time, not really connected with actual events. Willow knew she wasn’t dreaming - knew that it was all too real - but that didn’t stop the sense of unreality she’d been feeling since Tara had dropped to the bedroom floor. She felt detached, like she was watching a TV show, too engrossed to pull away.
Willow was abruptly pulled out of her depressing thoughts by a sudden movement on the couch, followed quickly by a slight jolt from her pillow. Opening her eyes, she saw that Miss Kitty had climbed onto the sofa - via Xander’s jean-clad legs - and was currently making herself comfortable against Willow’s chest, her soft fur tickling the witch’s chin.
“Sorry, Wills.” Xander apologized softly. “Cat has sharp claws.” he said by way of explanation.
Moving a hand to slowly stroke Miss Kitty’s soft fur, Willow felt the feline begin to vibrate.
“Rrrrrr. Rrrrrrr.”
And Willow’s tears dried up.
“Wills?” Xander asked softly, wanting to make sure his friend was still with him. Looking down, a small smile graced his features as he saw the small curve to her lips. “Is that a smile I see?” he teased, continuing to run a hand through her hair.
“I was just remembering...” she trailed off, as if unwilling to share a precious memory. “She’s so much like Tara.” Willow stated, continuously petting the purring fur ball that had curled up against her.
“Tara could sense my mood almost instantly. She knew when to leave me alone, and when not to.” Willow paused, savouring her cherished memories of the girl she had loved to distraction. “She knew the exact moment when a cuddle could make even the worst problems seem silly and far away.”
Xander said nothing, but continued to comfort his oldest and closest friend. They had both done this same thing after Jesse died - re-living the cherished memories they had of their friend.
“We were going to get another cat.” Willow told him, breaking the silence. “A kitty friend for Miss Kitty.” she clarified. “I asked Tara if we should get a girl kitty, because - hello - she was our cat and all; maybe she was gay too and that’s why she liked us so much. Tara said that a boy cat is what Miss Kitty wanted. I asked her if she was sure, and she got her ‘secret’ smile. You know, that smile she always got when she knew the answer to some silly thing I’d wondered about. Tara said that Miss Kitty was definitely a straight Kitty - like she was totally sure of the answer.
“Miss Kitty was always Tara’s cat, more than mine. They took to each other right away.”
More silence followed as they both relived their best memories of the blonde witch.
“A gay cat, Willow?” Xander teased, the smile evident in his voice.
Willow remained silent as the stroking of his hand and the purring of Miss Kitty Fantastico continued, lulling her into sleep with a small, sad smile on her face.
End Part 1
Pieces Kept
Wake up, Willow.
“-can’t remain here, Buffy.” Willow woke to hear Giles saying.
“Giles-“
“She cannot remain untutored in magic.” The watcher interrupted. Willow could feel the Slayer’s stubborn pout form behind closed eyes. Buffy didn’t like anyone telling her what she could and couldn’t do - even Giles. Though him she listened to more than others, before going her own way. “The amount of black magic she absorbed, even trained witches with a full coven to back them up, they rarely come out of it alive, or even sane.” Giles continued, unaware that his audience had just increased by one. “With her previous addiction to those same dark magics, it will be even harder for her to resist the power now inside of her.”
“But England?” she heard Buffy question, slightly unsure but sounding almost convinced that her old Watcher was right.
“They are one of the more powerful covens, Buffy, and they are willing to help.” Giles answered the blonde. Willow could hear it in Giles voice as he spoke - he was determined to bring her back to England. Tired, but determined.
“Why can’t you just teach her here? Bring the whole coven?” Buffy suggested. Willow could hear her getting more excited the more she spoke. “It could be a group outing. You know, ‘See the Hellmouth - Cure the witch’. I mean, how long could it take?”
There was complete silence for a moment before Giles could bring himself to speak again - at least, that was Willow’s theory when she heard how aghast he sounded when he finally regained the power of speech.
“Buffy. You cannot simply ‘move’ a coven, especially across half the planet! The travel plans and arrangements necessary for every member, their significant other, family members and familiars, alone, are almost incomprehensible. Needless to say the sheer quantity of supplies they would need to bring, and any travelling requires precise timing of lunar cycles and earth rotations, as well as making sure to avoid magical ‘hot spots’ while finding adequate housing where the ley lines happen to intersect-“
“All right! All right!” Buffy interrupted, sounding as overwhelmed as Willow felt. The witch had never been privy to the coven structure before - UC Sunnydale Wicca Group excluded - so this was all new to her. Well, for the most part. Just because neither Giles, Jenny Calendar nor Tara had ever brought it up, didn’t mean that Willow didn’t know about the basics of a coven. In fact, none of them knew just how far into her studies she’d gotten - before her addiction and without their help.
“The ideal solution is for Willow to return to England with me.” Giles told Buffy, being as gentle as he could. “To be some place other than the Hellmouth.”
“Why don’t you tell them the real reason you want her across the ocean, Giles?!” came a slightly hysterical and panicked voice.
Willow’s eyes snapped open at that, taking in Anya as she confronted the slightly annoyed Watcher and confused Slayer.
“What’s she talking about, Giles?” asked Buffy, turning her whole body to face her old Watcher.
“Tell them about how Little Miss ‘Let’s Destroy the World’ sent out a magical call through the supernatural community on two continents and three different planes of existence!” Anya’s shrill voice rose with every word. “Tell them how every being bent on world destruction or domination will be heading straight for this little slice of Hell! Or maybe just mention the hundreds of bounty hunters bound to show up soon, so they can be the one to claim the head of the ‘Dark Witch’!”
The entire room listened in horror, imagining what any one of those people could do to Willow if they ever got their hands on her.
“Is that true?” asked Xander, speaking up for the first time.
Reluctantly, Giles nodded.
“Will she be any safer in England?” was his next question, causing Willow to smile inwardly. Everyone was worried about her becoming a weapon against them, but Xander was worried about her. His best friend.
“The coven will protect her as best they can, until she can protect herself without falling into the dark arts again.” Giles replied after a moment.
But it was a moment too long for Willow. Her actions were continuing to put people in danger. First, her friends, and now this coven of witches she’d never even heard of before today.
However, she didn’t see any viable alternative.
“It’s a yes or no question, Giles!” Xander pushed, coming to the same conclusion Willow had - if someone more powerful came after Willow, the coven may not be able to protect her.
“I’ll go.” The words left her mouth before she had consciously thought them. She wouldn’t put her friends in danger, but she also wouldn’t put people she’d never met before in danger, either. At the first sign that the coven was in trouble because of her, she would leave. No one else would die because of what she’d done.
“Wills. You don’t have to go. We’ll deal with whatever-“
“I’ll go pack.” Willow interrupted Buffy. Any more well-intentioned pleas to stay from her friends, and she would - damn the consequences. “When do we leave?” she asked Giles, rising from her position on Xander’s lap.
“The flight leaves at 8:45 a.m., tomorrow. We should be there for 7:00 a.m. at the latest.” Giles informed her, his face devoid of all thoughts.
“Ok. Goodnight.” was said over her shoulder as she strode from the room, leaving silence behind her.
End Part 2
Voices in My Head
Once in her bedroom, Willow sat on the edge of the bed, willing her tears not to spill.
The room still smelled of Tara - of her life, not her death.
Maybe she shouldn’t have come alone, but she didn’t want any comforting or pitying gestures. Willow just wanted to bask in her memories - relive her memories of Tara, alive and smiling, not dead . . .
Looking to the floor, where her lover had fallen, Willow was amazed that there wasn’t anything to suggest that anyone had died. The police and other officials had come and gone already, apparently cleaning up before they left. Glancing at the window that still held a small hole, surrounded by a star burst of cracks, Willow mused that not everything had been removed.
Her gaze went back and forth between the ‘SPOT’ and the window, again and again. Back and forth. Floor to window to floor to window to floor . . .
Turning abruptly, she threw herself face down into the pillow so no one would hear her as the tears started to fall again. The almost soundless tears turned into agonizing, gut-wrenching sobs as she was enveloped by the same scent that permeated the room.
Tara’s pillow. The same pillow she’d lain her blonde head upon less than 48 hours ago.
As her tears continued to soak the pillow, Willow couldn’t help but think that it should have been her, instead. If Tara had been the one to live, she never would have gone mad with the magics as Willow had. There would be no demons, power hungry witches or determined bounty hunters about to descend upon the Hellmouth.
It would all be better.
Stop that line of thinking immediately, Willow Anne! The order popped into her head before she could go any further, startling her out of her crying and self-flagellation.
Go away! She told the familiar presence, not in the frame of mind to deal with him at the moment. Just leave me ALONE! Willow reiterated, not really wanting the comforting presence gone, but not willing to hear how she had screwed up - again - from the only person whose opinion mattered more than Giles’.
We all make mistakes, Willow. he stated. And do you really think I’m in any position to tell you what a mess you’ve made? Pot and kettle, Willow. she was reminded.
What are you doing in my head? She asked after a moment of silence. They had often talked this way, but not for a while now. It couldn’t be a coincidence that he sought her out after months of silence, especially given what Anya had said earlier.
The Watcher’s right. You can’t stay in Sunnydale.
I’m going to England with Giles. Willow told him in a quiet tone, ignoring that he’d been in her head long before she became aware of him. She didn’t really want to head across the Atlantic, but didn’t see any viable alternatives that didn’t involve putting those she loved in danger.
Come to Denver. came the offer, stated simply and concisely. That was the way he was. Demand or order, and then if someone didn’t comply he would either stare them into submission, using what Willow had dubbed ‘the GLARE’, or argue with them until they gave in. However, early on he’d discovered that neither route seemed to work on the red head. She’d counter his GLARE with her RESOLVE FACE, or argue with him using a twisted logic that left him reeling and unsure of when he’d lost control of the conversation.
Since Glaring was out, the alternate route was going to be used, and this time he was determined to win.
There’s a coven in England that can help me learn control. Willow was desperate to learn to control this new power, to not be looked at like she was going to go ‘Destructo Girl’ at any moment - again. Buffy’s words from earlier came back to her, constantly repeating in her head - ‘Cure the witch’. Like she was sick and just needed to relax and drink plenty of fluids, and she would be all better. Back to normal.
But before she could even think about controlling her magic, she needed to control her emotions. How long would it take before they started demanding she get over it? She’d been given three weeks to get over Oz, would they allow another week or two because Tara had died and they’d been together longer? Would the coven in England be any different?
There’s a coven in Denver that will be more than happy to help. he countered. And if you ever tell them I called them that, you’ll live to regret it. his deep voice warned her, using a tone that sent shivers down the spines of demons and master vampires alike.
Pfffft.
Why is it you never take my threats seriously? he asked with a sigh of resignation. Everyone else does.
Because you’d rather die than hurt me. It was the one thing she had never doubted since she was eight.
I’d take on the world for you, Willow.
Tears glistened in her eyes, the first outward sign of the conversation going on within. However, for the first time today, they weren’t shed out of sadness.
Come to Denver. he repeated.
I don’t want to put you in any danger. Willow told him, Anya’s words still echoing in her ears. Demons, vampires, black witches and bounty hunters, all following her wherever she went. The full weight of that little tidbit had yet to fully sink in yet, but when it did Willow was sure that it would be followed immediately by a panic attack of epic proportions, combined with new levels of ‘terrifying’.
Denver is the safest place for you.
Giles really wants me to go with him. Willow vainly tried to find a good enough reason to refuse, but was coming up short - and was quickly losing the will to try.
I want you with me.
I miss you. he said after a pause. In a softer tone, he pressed on before she could say anything else. I want to spend time with you - to teach you properly, like I was taught - and I want to get to know you better.
Giles wants to leave in the morning; the tickets are booked and everything. she told him, wanting desperately to accept his offer, but still wary of disappointing the English Watcher or her friends - friends who all had a cautious look in their eyes, as if waiting for her to suck them all into hell.
But is that what you want? he asked gently.
Denver. Willow finally said, feeling like she was betraying her friends with a single word and thought. I want to go to Denver.
Despite what Giles thought, she knew Denver was the safest place on Earth for her. She remembered the last time she was there - when her powers were just starting to emerge - the city and surrounding areas felt like a big, fuzzy blanket that screamed ‘safe’.
You haven’t been back in more than two years. he reminded her gently.
It was true, she realized. She’d been there every summer since she was eight years old, but had missed the last year to stay and protect the Hellmouth that was without a Slayer.
Barney misses you, too. he told her, speaking of the large husky he called his pet - though it was debatable who was the master. So does your damn horse. was added grudgingly, his distaste for the animal palpable.
Willow missed her beloved horse, too - a gift from him the summer she was sixteen.
I’ll come to Denver, if you say her name. she unashamedly blackmailed. Both knew that her decision was already made, but he still put up a token protest.
No.
Please? she pleaded, a smile teasing across her lips. I’m making a pouty face. Willow warned him.
Not enough whiskey in the world.
... and here come the puppy dog eyes . . .
Nice try, but ‘no’.
Do I really need to bat my eyes, too?
All right! All right! Cookie Crumbles! Are you happy now? he grouched, breaking under the pitiful onslaught, as he always did. Silently he wondered how she managed to come up with silly names for the animals around her. If he hadn’t fought tooth and nail, his dog would have been called Rocky Road Racer.
A giggle was his only reply, making his discomfort worthwhile.
I’ll meet you at the airport in the morning.
But, how will you know -
Trust me, Willow. cutting her off before she could get a good ‘babble’ going. I’ll find you, and I’ll have one of the boys with me.
Okay. she agreed quietly, though there was no need for her assent. She was actually glad that he was taking charge. It was nice to let someone else take care of everything for a change.
Don’t worry about packing. Bring your laptop and the cat; anything else you need we can get once you’re here. Now get some sleep - let me worry about everything else.
Okay. she repeated sleepily, his commanding presence enough to relax her even now.
Night, Daddy.
Goodnight, darling girl.
A smile graced her face as the witch fell asleep, comforted in the fact that her father could - and would - make everything all right.
End Part 3
Next Part
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-07 07:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-07 08:18 pm (UTC)As for M7...it was a TV show (made decades after the movies) in the late 90's. But I think it's unique in fandom, in that there are more AU fics around than canon fics. (The ATF-AU alone is massive, and has become it's own sort of fic-dom.) The characters can be transferred into any AU you can dream up, and still have it beleivable and be true to the characters.
Go HERE (http://www.blackraptor.net/m7fic/index.htm) and click on 'Meet the Seven' to get a general idea of what they look like and their histories. That's about all you need for this fic, though their histories are slightly different here.
Cat's in the cradle
Date: 2007-01-15 01:55 am (UTC)Tonny
Re: Cat's in the cradle
Date: 2007-01-16 02:05 pm (UTC)I'm glad you're liking this AU, and hopefully I'll explain the backstory a bit more in the next part. :)