Chapter 9
Perfection : Imperfection : Faith
by Cynthia Taz
Note: Thanks for everyone's reviews. Can't do this without you:)
Tara sat quietly outside the Castle of Cloud, her eyes focusing on the gray feather in her hand as she waited for her guide to finish his meeting with several Seraphs. She had followed her guide to Hell to meet with Lucifer, and they had just come back to Heaven.
"Tara." The young angel looked up, and found her guide standing there with his usual smile. "Ah. A gray feather." He sat down beside her. "You met her?"
Tara shook her head. "Not really."
"She's a special lady. Angel with gray wings." A long pause. "Tara, do you believe in perfection? The existence of perfection?"
Tara thought for a moment, before turning towards her guide. "Um... no? I don't know..."
"I never believe in perfection." Her guide said. "To me, it is a mean for losing choices. I think Father created everything without perfection because He himself is prefect: and to be so He lost his choices. He wants us to have something that he cannot have, whether they are right or wrong. That's why there's imperfection in Hell, in mortal world... in Heaven."
"Do you think they are the imperfection in Heaven?" Tara asked quietly, almost fearfully, as she did not know what his guide might say. "Those who don't have pure white wings?"
Surprisingly, Tara's guide laughed. "My dear sister, don't you see? It is us who are the imperfection in Heaven."
Tara sat on her bed, the curtains of her window pulled shut, her blue orbs staring at the lighting candle on the huge desk in her dark room.
Slowly, she reached towards her chest, stroking the feather she had hanged around her neck for years. "I still want to know you..." She whispered into the air.
"Know me?" Tara jumped when she heard the voice. Buffy was standing at the doorway, her eyebrow raised as she stared at her co-ruler. "You do know me. We have known each other for years, since we met the first day we left Adam's Garden."
"You startled me." Tara smiled.
"Sorry. I will knock hard enough to break your door down next time." The shorter blond said sarcastically. "And why is it so dark in here?" She frowned and matched into the room, pulling open the curtains so that sunlight could cover the room. "See? Better." She smiled.
Tara shook her head at the silly grin on her friend's face. "So, what brings you to little old me?"
Buffy's face turned serious. "Someone from the House of Lords has called a meeting." Tara nodded. "How do you want to do it?"
"I don't know. I was going to have a talk with Lord Willow..." Buffy's face darkened. "I know you don't trust her, but I do really believe that she can help."
"Help who? Us, or herself? Tara, we don't really know her. Sure, Xander said he knew her from Adam's Garden, but it was like what, ten? Twenty thousand years ago?" The shorter blond pointed out. "Seriously. I don't get why you all trust her so much."
Tara did not answer. Instead, she moved towards the window, and stared at the view it had offered. "Buffy, do you believe in perfection? The existence of perfection?"
Buffy sent Tara a look. "Changing topic?" The taller angel turned around and smiled. "Well... I guess. I mean, there's Heaven, there's angels... well, most of us anyways, and Father." She paused. "Yeah, I guess I am."
Tara looked down at the floor and thought for a moment, before looking up at Buffy again. "Then have faith, Buffy. If nothing else, have faith in Father."
Buffy sighed and shook her head. "Faith's kinda hard to come by when you're in Hell, Tara."
Xander stood in front of the closed wooden door, his eyes stared at the letters engraved on the wooden surface. He had been standing there for almost fifteen minutes, right after he had heard from Tara that Willow was actually living at the basement. Finally gather enough courage, he reached out to knock, only to have his fist met the air as the door opened itself.
Willow was standing there, in her room, in the dark. Her green orbs staring un-impressed at Xander. "Is there something you need from me, Mr. Alexander? Or you wish to stand there, staring at my door for couple more minutes?"
Xander blushed a bit, but gave his old friend his trademarked goofy smile. "Willow."
"Yes?" The redhead raised an eyebrow.
"Do you want to go and have a walk with me?" He took a step forward. "It's -"
"I don't remember inviting you in, Mr. Alexander."
Willow cold voice halted the black haired angel. He looked down, and found one of his legs had stepped through the doorway. Quickly, he retreated, but looked up and frowned at Willow. "Why do you keep doing that? I just want to make it up for you..."
"What to make up for, Mr. Alexander?"
"Xander! My name is Xander!"
"Xander, Alexander... what's the difference? Name is nothing but a word. It gives no meaning except a little pointer pointing at the object it represents. And you are wasting both our time again."
The redhead turned around, and was about to walk away when Xander took a step forward again. "Where's the Willow that I know?" He pleaded. "The babbling redhead who loves her friends? The one who loves me?"
Willow turned back towards Xander and cocked her head. "Don't you know? She never exists." She turned her back against the black haired angel again. "And please, do restrain yourself from wasting both our time in the future. I'm not here to social." Then, the redhead closed the door, rejected the angel she once called friend from her world.