Title: Lost
Summary: Tara has to break some bad news.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't hurt me.
Archived at: www.angelfire.com/tv2/legendmf, when I get around to it.
Thanks to: Jen, Vic, Pete, and Dot, as always.
Tara took a slow, measured sip of her tea. It tasted of cheap teabags and unwashed cups, but she swallowed it anyway. She said reluctantly, "She wasn't well."
The slight girl with red hair across the table toyed with her own cup. "You mean the liver damage? I knew about that. I kinda hacked into the hospital computer."
Tara picked up a sachet of sugar, aware that she was finding every possible excuse to delay what had to come next. She looked around the tiny diner, taking in the ripped seats, dingy linoleum, and the general shabbiness.
Tara ripped the sachet open and poured it into her tea, focusing on the dissolving crystals as she began to speak. "When Willow fixed me, after Glory - hurt me - it did something to her. Buffy's death, and Anya's deterioration, made things worse." Tara cleared her throat. "The day after Xander died, she vanished. Giles and I tried many different ways to find her, but nothing worked."
The red-haired girl nodded slowly. "How long was she on the run, before she died?" She sounded mildly interested.
"About five years."
"I wish I'd known her better."
"Yes," Tara said softly. She didn't say, [And it was my fault. She never recovered from helping me. And then, I couldn't find her.]
"I'm glad you found me."
"So am I."
The girl chewed on a fingernail. "Is that why she didn't tell you about me? Is that why she had me adopted?"
****
Tara slumped, responding to the raw pain in the girl's voice. "Yes, Buffy. We never knew about you. I only found the records of her hospital stay for alcohol addiction, last month, when the hospital finally got onto the Internet. Then I came straight down here, and saw you in the street. There are no records of her doing anything else in this area, not under any of the false names she used. She always was good with computers." Tara's lips curved softly in a sad smile. "I never knew about you."
"That means she gave birth to me about two and a half years before she died," Buffy said. "I wonder who my father is. It isn't on my birth certificate."
"I'm sorry," Tara offered, feeling inadequate. A thought struck her. "What - what are your parents like? If you ever want to come and stay. . ."
"They're cool, thanks. I'm happy there. They told me I was adopted from as early as I can remember. They said it made me special, because they chose me." Buffy's voice lowered, and her mouth twisted bitterly. "From the orphanage."
Tara winced. "I would've taken you. In a heartbeat. If I'd known."
"Yeah, I know." Buffy looked through the grimy window. "It doesn't matter." She stood. "I'd better get home."
Tara stood, also. She rummaged in her pocket for a piece of paper, which she pushed across the table to Buffy. "Okay. Um, anyway, call me sometime."
"Okay." Buffy took the paper.
Tara tentatively patted Buffy on the shoulder. "I'd love to see you again. And the others want to meet you."
"I'd better go," Buffy said, not meeting her eyes. She walked to the door, then stopped. "Thanks for lunch."
Summary: Tara has to break some bad news.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't hurt me.
Archived at: www.angelfire.com/tv2/legendmf, when I get around to it.
Thanks to: Jen, Vic, Pete, and Dot, as always.
Tara took a slow, measured sip of her tea. It tasted of cheap teabags and unwashed cups, but she swallowed it anyway. She said reluctantly, "She wasn't well."
The slight girl with red hair across the table toyed with her own cup. "You mean the liver damage? I knew about that. I kinda hacked into the hospital computer."
Tara picked up a sachet of sugar, aware that she was finding every possible excuse to delay what had to come next. She looked around the tiny diner, taking in the ripped seats, dingy linoleum, and the general shabbiness.
Tara ripped the sachet open and poured it into her tea, focusing on the dissolving crystals as she began to speak. "When Willow fixed me, after Glory - hurt me - it did something to her. Buffy's death, and Anya's deterioration, made things worse." Tara cleared her throat. "The day after Xander died, she vanished. Giles and I tried many different ways to find her, but nothing worked."
The red-haired girl nodded slowly. "How long was she on the run, before she died?" She sounded mildly interested.
"About five years."
"I wish I'd known her better."
"Yes," Tara said softly. She didn't say, [And it was my fault. She never recovered from helping me. And then, I couldn't find her.]
"I'm glad you found me."
"So am I."
The girl chewed on a fingernail. "Is that why she didn't tell you about me? Is that why she had me adopted?"
****
Tara slumped, responding to the raw pain in the girl's voice. "Yes, Buffy. We never knew about you. I only found the records of her hospital stay for alcohol addiction, last month, when the hospital finally got onto the Internet. Then I came straight down here, and saw you in the street. There are no records of her doing anything else in this area, not under any of the false names she used. She always was good with computers." Tara's lips curved softly in a sad smile. "I never knew about you."
"That means she gave birth to me about two and a half years before she died," Buffy said. "I wonder who my father is. It isn't on my birth certificate."
"I'm sorry," Tara offered, feeling inadequate. A thought struck her. "What - what are your parents like? If you ever want to come and stay. . ."
"They're cool, thanks. I'm happy there. They told me I was adopted from as early as I can remember. They said it made me special, because they chose me." Buffy's voice lowered, and her mouth twisted bitterly. "From the orphanage."
Tara winced. "I would've taken you. In a heartbeat. If I'd known."
"Yeah, I know." Buffy looked through the grimy window. "It doesn't matter." She stood. "I'd better get home."
Tara stood, also. She rummaged in her pocket for a piece of paper, which she pushed across the table to Buffy. "Okay. Um, anyway, call me sometime."
"Okay." Buffy took the paper.
Tara tentatively patted Buffy on the shoulder. "I'd love to see you again. And the others want to meet you."
"I'd better go," Buffy said, not meeting her eyes. She walked to the door, then stopped. "Thanks for lunch."