"The
moon to the tide I'm under your
spell
I can feel you inside
Surging like the sea
Wanting you so helplessly
I
break with every swell
Lost in ecstasy
Spread beneath my
willow tree"
She
drew in power unbeknownst to herself. Her entire body shook, and a
small silver light enveloped the Summers' residence, her home. She
didn't realize the power she contained, especially when joined with
her beloved. She just knew it felt good.
As Willow came forward,
from finishing her off, she had a small sweat on her forehead and a
huge grin on her face. Tara looked at her and smiled back, never
knowing the difference.
Back in the lair, Rack watched with
a look of content on his face. He seemed to enjoy the union, even
though he had nothing to do with it.
'Little bitch doesn't
know her own strength… Willow picks them all so well. If only they
knew. A powerful magick has been used, and they don't even know it.
Willow, you should have known better then to mess with her head…'
Rack thought to himself, a huge smile spread across his face, and he
shown his rotten teeth off. "Tabula Rasa, baby."
The next
morning, Willow woke up, stared at the ceiling.
'What have I
done? I violated my own love's mind to get what I want. I looked to
the dark arts, tainted her mind, her body, her flesh. Her aura was
changed last night, and a power unleashed that everyone could feel. I
felt it rush through me…' she wondered to herself, her thoughts
being played across her face.
She
got out of bed, and leaning over to kiss Tara, stopped, and looked at
how content she was with everything.
'She seems happy.'
She
walked out of the bedroom, leaving Tara to sleep. A quick glance at
the clock on the way out, realizing it was almost noon. Walking
downstairs, she found Buffy, sitting at the table, flipping through a
Cosmopolitan while poking at the donut on her plate.
"Buffy?"
Willow said with an undertone of worry and sadness.
"What's
up Will?" Buffy replied robotically.
"Buffy, I have a
problem… I have been…" Willow began to tear up, her eyes just
becoming wells that were overflowing.
"Will? You can tell me
anything, you know that?" Buffy said, putting down the magazine and
pushing away her half-heartedly eaten donut.
"I know." Willow
said, looking at Buffy, her face turning red with embarrassment. "I
have an addiction to magic." She stated, tears streaming down her
face.
"What do you mean Will?" Buffy asked.
"I have
been using it for everything. Getting dressed in the morning,
avoiding red lights in traffic, getting things I need from other
areas of the house, doing the dishes, getting what I want…" She
started, and was quickly cut off.
"What do you mean by getting
what you want? I haven't seen a million dollars laying around in
small unmarked bills, or Angelina Jolie in your closet…" Buffy
asked.
"Remember that argument I had with Tara?"
"Yeah,
the one you guys talked through…?"
"Well, not exactly.
There was this spell, Tabula Rasa… I used it on her. She doesn't
remember that argument."
"WILLOW!" Buffy said, covering
her mouth.
"I know… I know…" Willow said, furrowing her
brow and putting her hand on her forehead, her red hair dangling down
in front of her face.
"Well, we know you have a problem. How do
you reverse the spell?" Buffy asked, trying her hardest not to
smash anything.
"I am not sure." Willow said.
"Well,
let's go over it. There are consequences you know… what you put
out will return to you, three fold, or so that old lady in The Craft
said." Buffy joked.
"Okay. Let me go get the book, and the
ingredients, be right back." Willow darted back upstairs into her
room, oh-so-stealthy like, and grabbed a book out from under the bed,
and a shoebox full of herbs, candles, and crystals. She passed by
Tara, looking at her, and smiling. 'She looks so peaceful.' She
walked out, closing the door silently, and ran back downstairs, and
to the kitchen. Before she entered, she stopped, hearing Buffy
talking to someone.
"She doesn't realize what she has done."
A male voice said.
"What
do you mean? She knows exactly what she did with that spell." Buffy
retorted.
"You felt it last night; the power surging through
the air. You could taste the power, sweet…"
"Like
strawberries?" Buffy said.
"That's my girl."
Willow
realized who it was in the kitchen. Rack, the Dark magic dealer.
"Shut up! She isn't your girl and never will be again!"
Buffy Yelled. There was a crashing sound as something hit the wall.
"You little girl. She is just as bad as me you realize;
dabbling with forces she doesn't know about, ignoring the fine
print. Last night, a major shift in energies; the fabric of life
even, and you go siding with her." Rack said. "You do not know my
power, the extent of it , so don't fuck with me, of that pretty
little face will have more then just a bruise on it."
Willow
walked into the kitchen and put down her book and box, and looked at
him. Her eyes flickered dark.
"You came into my home and
messed with my friends. And for what, might I ask?" Willow said,
her voice deepening with a primordial rage.
"Tails are twitchy
girlie, and you can't reverse it now. You messed with the natural
order of things, and now is time to pay." He replied, disappearing
in a plume of energy, his final words echoing through her
head.
Willow looked at Buffy, and helped her get up off the
floor, noting the red mark across her face.
"He caught me off
guard." She stated angrily. "Let's try to reverse this."
Willow sat Buffy and herself down at the table and started
reading through the text, pulling up the ingredients as she named
them off.
"Lethe's Bramble- the herb needed to aid in the
forgetfulness spell. Said to grow along the river of Lethe in Hades
and closely related to the rose family, a crystal to be used as the
vessel to contain the memory, and a candle, kinda like a
censure."
"Okay, so what crystal did you use for the spell?"
Buffy asked. Willow looted through her pockets and pulled out a dark
green crystal. "Oh! Pretty! It's green!" she said.
"It
was not always green. It turned that way once the bramble was done
burning. When the final embers went out, the spell took place and the
memory of the argument was placed into the crystal." Willow said.
"The only thing is, how do I get it back out?"
"Do the
spell backwards?" Buffy asked?
"A few spells can be done in
reverse, but in this case, no." Willow replied.
"Are there
any other instructions; or how about an 'Oops' Section?" Buffy
asked, excitedly.
"No." Willow said, staring at the crystal
on the table. "The memory needs to come out, somehow though."
"I
GOT IT!" Buffy said, pounding her fist onto the crystal, crushing
it. A plume of green smoke flew from the shattered pieces and the
crystal returned to its plain color.
"Well, that was easy."
Willow said, closing her book.
Upstairs, Tara lay asleep, as
the green smoke enveloped her; she woke up, and clenched her stomach.
Her eyes shown a great emerald green and she began screaming. A few
moments later, Willow came in through the door, Buffy soon in step.
"Baby?" Willow said, reaching out her hand to push the hair
out of Tara's face. Tara jerked away.
"What did you do?" She
said, glaring at Willow.
"I… I…" Willow said, afraid of
what might happen. Afraid to loose the control she had with the
magics. Afraid of the inevitability of Tara's leaving. "I have a
problem… I need help… Tara… I am so sorry!" Willow began
strong, but ended in heavy sobs, sprawled out on the floor.
Tara's
look of anger quickly faded and was replaced with a look of pain. She
again clutched her stomach, and it began to swell. Her moans turned
into screams as the bulge grew to about a quarter size of a
basketball.
"OH MY GODDESS!" She yelled threw clenched
teeth.
"Tara!" Willow yelled, staring as her stomach grew at
such a rate. She held her hand over her mouth, while her jaw hung
slack. Buffy, backing up in case Tara's stomach exploded, had a
look of fear across her face.
It stopped when her stomach
reached the size of a basketball, and Tara stood there, clutching her
stomach and dripping in sweat.
"I realize what you have done."
Tara said. "You made me pregnant… but how?" She asked, looking
for some sort of an explanation to the new abnormality.
