Disclaimer: All characters herein are owned by Joss Whedon and Fox and/or UPN, except any I invent. I use them with grateful thanks and hope I do a good job!
Author: Jacqueline Burns – jay.b@slayme.com
Use: Please ask first but as long as you credit it to me and don't steal it, then I can't see a problem!
"She's gone?" I ask. I can hear the disbelief in my voice as I stare accusingly at Giles and Dawnie. "Where? How? When will she be back?" They both look uncomfortable. Buffy left this morning and they didn't tell me till I got back to the house after college. Didn't think to tell me.
Giles shrugs and looks at me consideringly. He's thinking of what he should say to me. I know he doesn't trust me. But I had to bring her back. I had to. But he's not scared of me, and my power. Yet. But I'm stronger than he knows. Much stronger. He'll see.
"Angel knows. Someone told him she was back. She's gone to him," he says finally. Dawnie is silent and sits still. The atmosphere in the room has changed and I can see she doesn't understand the tension between us.
"But who told him? Buffy didn't. We know that much." I answer, gritting my teeth, trying to be calm. The anger is flaring again. I can feel my face flushing. I realise that I can feel my nails digging into my palms, where I've clenched my fists and I have to breathe deeply and work to straighten my hands out again. But they haven't noticed how I'm fighting to keep control of the rage inside me. Sometimes it scares me, but I can control it.....
She hasn't been the same since - since she came back. She's different. But she's still Buffy and I still love her. Why would I have gone through Hell to bring her back from the dead if I didn't? But – there's something. In her eyes when she looks at me, just sometimes. I see it briefly, and then she smiles and it disappears. She doesn't think I see it, but it's there. And it's not gratitude. Not by a long way. Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing; those doubts creep into my mind in the middle of the night, when I can't sleep. But I know I did. Deep down. Yes. I was right to bring her back. To use the Urn of Osiris; yes, it's dark magic. But I controlled it. Till the demons came, but by then it was done. Sometimes I wonder where she was, when she leapt into the Portal, where she went. She looks haunted but she won't tell us. But I think Spike knows. Perhaps I should ask him....I'm sure he'd tell me. There are ways..... no. No. No, I mustn't think like that. I'm good. My power is good. Always.
Giles rises from his chair and paces back and forth for a moment. He automatically raises a hand and takes off his glasses. Despite my current feeling towards him, after what he said last night, I have to stifle a smile.
"I don't know," he answers flatly. "But he knows. Somehow. Perhaps – he felt it. The same way she did when he came back from hell." Giles shakes his head to back up his words. I glance at Dawnie, but I can see she has no idea. Does she even know fully who Angel is? I don't know anymore.
"Has she gone to LA?" I persist.
"No. Someplace in between, she said. I don't know where." He polishes his glasses and puts them back on. He's standing still now, looking out the window, but he's not seeing what's outside. I wonder what he's thinking; his face is shuttered and I can't read his expression.
I wonder what will happen when she sees Angel. I can look; I've a spell for that type of thing. But that would be wrong. That would be spying. But oh, how I want to do it. To see them together. Knowing that she loved him far more than she could ever love me, despite the things he's done. To her. To all of us. But I have Tara now, and I know that Buffy will never see me in that way. I've given up hope of it happening, now. I never told her. Knew she'd never return my feeling that way, that it would destroy the friendship we have. But sometimes, I wonder what we could have had.....I shake my head slightly. I have my lovely, sweet Wicca now.
I can feel Tara's hands tightening on my shoulders as she stands behind me, can feel my anger flaring higher, but it's slow this time, not the usual bright flames. Why? I don't know. I only know that again, we saved her, and she's run to Angel. Oh, I know they've got the whole star-crossed lovers thing going on. Or they had it. I don't think they quite feel the same now; how can they? Too much time, too much space between them now. But. A little gratitude from Buffy wouldn't hurt. After all I went through, the cuts, the – the snake. The pain. It felt like I was being ripped apart, when I did that Ritual. Giles was right when he said that it's dangerous. But what does that make me, if I had enough power to get through it – and make it work?
I twist myself away from Tara's warm hands, turning slightly. "I'm going upstairs. I'm -I'm going to lie down. I have a bit of a headache starting."
But I know it's a lie. I'm going to do a locator spell and find them. Find Buffy.
Tara looks at me in concern. "Do you want me to come with?" she asks quietly. I smile and touch her hand, shake my head softly.
"No, I'm fine. I'll be OK, I just need to lie down for a few minutes." I say reasurringly.
"OK." She smiles doubtfully but nods.
I cross the room and pause before I go up the stairs, looking at them. Dawnie's still on the sofa, her diary open on her lap. Tara has gone to sit next to her and is talking softly, her hand resting on Dawnies'. They're both smiling; it's a joke that Tara told me earlier. As I watch, Dawnie closes her eyes and groans, then laughs quietly.
And Giles; Giles is looking at me again and I don't like the look in his eyes. Hard. Flat. He knows I don't have a headache but I don't think he'll say anything. He hasn't said anything about the darker side of the Ritual I did to bring Buffy back and he knows that I had to have fresh blood for it. Tara doesn't know. Can't know. The blood - should have been human, really, but deer does just as well, if you can't get it. Sometimes....
* * *
I go into Buffy's room and pick up her hairbrush, where golden strands are tangled amongst the bristles. I glance round; you'd never know she'd been dead. Or perhaps I should pretend she wasn't, and say "been away." We kept it all clean and bright and just the way she left it. Oh, I know the Buffybot was in here, but – well, she wasn't Buffy. You know? Mr Gordo still sits on her bed; there's a jacket thrown across the end, carelessly. She left in a hurry; some of the drawers are still open, things spilling out. Couldn't wait to get to Angel, wherever they are. I wonder when she'll be back. She knows we need her here.
I'm staring at the hairbrush again, and I know I have no right to spy on their meeting. I know how much they loved each other; I don't know how much of that's left, now. They'll always have something, but still. And now there's Spike. He loves her, you can see that. We all know. And – he's closer to her now, closer than ever. They've shared something none of us can; they've both come back from the dead. But I don't think she loves him. I don't know. Sometimes I feel as if I don't know anything anymore.
I put the brush down. I have no right to do this. I leave the room, closing the door softly behind me, and cross to the room I share with Tara. It used to be Joyce's. She wouldn't mind. I kick off my shoes and lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, folding my arms behind my head. Wondering. Waiting. Knowing the pain she'll feel when she returns.
The momentary flare of anger I felt towards her, towards Angel, has faded. The anger comes more often now, the flares of it crawling like snakes up my spine, rising in waves through my mind, roaring through my head. But those flares of rage – they don't mean anything. Not really. Do they?
I can hear Tara's voice as she comes up the stairs, and I watch the door and wait for it to open, smiling as my lover comes in. All I can do is be here for Buffy. And I will be. Because I love her and she's my friend. And meanwhile? I have Tara. And my power is growing every day; I can feel it. I think it frightens Tara, sometimes, but she knows I'd never hurt her. But then, I don't really think she knows just how much power I can channel now. I keep it hidden from her. My sweet, sweet Tara. She's still shy, sometimes, still holds back a little. I smile and turn as she lies down beside me and snuggles up.
"I thought you'd be lonely," she whispers, smiling at me, still shy. "Don't be worried about Buffy. She'll be back soon. She'd never leave you. Never leave us."
I nod against Tara's silky hair, smelling her faint perfume, and close my eyes. Yes, Buffy'll come back. To me. To us. We're here for her, we're her friends and she needs us, just as much as we need her. And then - there's family. Her sister. After all, she'd never leave Dawnie. Would she?
