Act 2: Waxing Crescent
It was actually a bit of a relief that Buffy was on her own tonight. Dawn was allowed to patrol now, but not tonight. It was Sunday. School tomorrow. Even if the teen was set on fighting for good, she was still a teenager, and getting her diploma was top priority. Anyways, this 'me time' allowed Buffy to get any otherwise unreleased tension out of her system. That, and it often seemed like it was the only time she had to think. Independant thought wasn't much possible at the DoubleMeat Palace. 'Ech. Why am I thinking about work? she asked herself. Maybe because its' better than thinking about Tara, or the Xander/Anya feud, or Willow's recovery, or whether Giles is going to leave again, or where the hell Spike's been at?' the Inner-Buffy answered. "I see your point." she said aloud.
The evening proved to be slow. Just one vamp, and a couple making out on a grave. 'Ew.' Buffy didn't know who was more embarrassed, her or them. Otherwise, it was quiet. Another good reason for Dawn not to come. She would have been bored out of her mind. 'Come on, something's gotta jump out any time now.' The woman, exasperated after an hour of absolutely nothing, leaned back on a tree. Wait a second, isn't this..."
Buffy walked a few paces down a small slope and found that she was right. There was a gravestone. Buffy looked about, then sat herself down next to the stone. "Hi Tara."
***
What time was it? Buffy didn't tend to carry watches anymore, since they kept getting broken in fights. She looked about, and there was still no sign of daylight, but she could tell it was time to stop sitting there talking to someone who, in most likeliness, didn't hear her at all. "Well, Tara." she said, getting up "I have to go. I hope that wherever you are, you're okay, and that other thing I said earlier? Its' a promise."
"Really?" A voice, female, surprised her. Buffy whirled around and didn't see anyone else. The hairs on the back of her neck began to bristle.
"Uh, Tara?" she asked hesitantly.
"No. Up here." a voice groaned from the tree. Buffy looked up. Someone was sitting in the branches. "See? Hello!" the woman waved.
"Um, who are you and what are you doing in a tree watching me?" the slayer asked, ready to fight if need be.
Suddenly the woman, a brunette, was standing next to her. She held out an opened box. "I'm Dierdre. Would you like a cookie?"
***
As the plane rose into the air, Giles turned to the woman in the seat beside him with a concerned look on his face. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, I think." Willow answered. She looked nervous. "Just...Sunnydale. It feels like years, not just a couple of months. I don't know what I'm going to say to them."
"Just remember what you learned from the coven and the group and you'll be fine. Do you still have that number for the local chapter?" he asked.
"Yep. Right here in my purse. I'll call them when we get in and set things up for sure." Willow rubbed a palm with her thumb. She had developed a number of nervous repetitive movements in the past year, and since she was brought to England, they seemed to have intensified.
"I want you to know that I am very proud of what you've done here, Willow. And I am glad you let me bring you back with me." he smiled warmly.
"I'm glad I let you too. I don't think I could have made it at home. No matter what anybody said." she frowned, remembering what had happened the day she'd decided to leave:
Flashback:
"She needs to be with her friends, Giles. Those kind of people are what got her into trouble in the first place." Xander sputtered. As Giles had expected, he didn't take the idea well at all.
"The Coven in England have dealt with these kind of things before. And in conjunction with therapy, Willow will be able to experience detoxification in a supportive and educated environment." Giles said, cleaning his glasses.
"We can be supportive. She doesn't need to go halfway across the world just to do...whatever they do. We can do it here."
"Xander." she spoke up. "I'm going with Giles. Today. I think its' for the best."
"You can't be serious, Wills!"
"I am. Please Xander. I'll come back. I just need to be there for a while, okay?" she walked up to him, hoping he'd enfold her in his arms, but he never did. "I love you."
"I love you too, Willow." he said sadly, then walked out of the house.
End Flashback.
"I have a lot of people to make amends with, don't I?" Willow asked.
Giles said nothing, but he took his hand in hers gently, and smiled again.
***
'Its' absolutely pointless for me to keep telling myself the nightmares will stop. I know they won't. Sometimes I wonder if that or the daydreams are worse. The ones where I am totally convinced I'm back in that moment and it loops over and over again, and when I come out I feel like this one horrible thing has happened a thousand times. And look at me calling them horrible now. I never used to care. What was I before? What kind of sick, twisted thing was I? What am I now? I want to end it but its' like I'm bloody paralysed and can't get up. Maybe I'll spend eternity here, watching Clem eat all my food and buy me more, thinking one day I'll eat it. I think I'll just tell him to leave tomorrow. He shouldn't be fussing over me like this. Its' not like I deserve it, after all. Oh, God. Listen to me. I sound like the bloody poofter. This is beyond pathetic. Where's my rye?'
It was actually a bit of a relief that Buffy was on her own tonight. Dawn was allowed to patrol now, but not tonight. It was Sunday. School tomorrow. Even if the teen was set on fighting for good, she was still a teenager, and getting her diploma was top priority. Anyways, this 'me time' allowed Buffy to get any otherwise unreleased tension out of her system. That, and it often seemed like it was the only time she had to think. Independant thought wasn't much possible at the DoubleMeat Palace. 'Ech. Why am I thinking about work? she asked herself. Maybe because its' better than thinking about Tara, or the Xander/Anya feud, or Willow's recovery, or whether Giles is going to leave again, or where the hell Spike's been at?' the Inner-Buffy answered. "I see your point." she said aloud.
The evening proved to be slow. Just one vamp, and a couple making out on a grave. 'Ew.' Buffy didn't know who was more embarrassed, her or them. Otherwise, it was quiet. Another good reason for Dawn not to come. She would have been bored out of her mind. 'Come on, something's gotta jump out any time now.' The woman, exasperated after an hour of absolutely nothing, leaned back on a tree. Wait a second, isn't this..."
Buffy walked a few paces down a small slope and found that she was right. There was a gravestone. Buffy looked about, then sat herself down next to the stone. "Hi Tara."
***
What time was it? Buffy didn't tend to carry watches anymore, since they kept getting broken in fights. She looked about, and there was still no sign of daylight, but she could tell it was time to stop sitting there talking to someone who, in most likeliness, didn't hear her at all. "Well, Tara." she said, getting up "I have to go. I hope that wherever you are, you're okay, and that other thing I said earlier? Its' a promise."
"Really?" A voice, female, surprised her. Buffy whirled around and didn't see anyone else. The hairs on the back of her neck began to bristle.
"Uh, Tara?" she asked hesitantly.
"No. Up here." a voice groaned from the tree. Buffy looked up. Someone was sitting in the branches. "See? Hello!" the woman waved.
"Um, who are you and what are you doing in a tree watching me?" the slayer asked, ready to fight if need be.
Suddenly the woman, a brunette, was standing next to her. She held out an opened box. "I'm Dierdre. Would you like a cookie?"
***
As the plane rose into the air, Giles turned to the woman in the seat beside him with a concerned look on his face. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, I think." Willow answered. She looked nervous. "Just...Sunnydale. It feels like years, not just a couple of months. I don't know what I'm going to say to them."
"Just remember what you learned from the coven and the group and you'll be fine. Do you still have that number for the local chapter?" he asked.
"Yep. Right here in my purse. I'll call them when we get in and set things up for sure." Willow rubbed a palm with her thumb. She had developed a number of nervous repetitive movements in the past year, and since she was brought to England, they seemed to have intensified.
"I want you to know that I am very proud of what you've done here, Willow. And I am glad you let me bring you back with me." he smiled warmly.
"I'm glad I let you too. I don't think I could have made it at home. No matter what anybody said." she frowned, remembering what had happened the day she'd decided to leave:
Flashback:
"She needs to be with her friends, Giles. Those kind of people are what got her into trouble in the first place." Xander sputtered. As Giles had expected, he didn't take the idea well at all.
"The Coven in England have dealt with these kind of things before. And in conjunction with therapy, Willow will be able to experience detoxification in a supportive and educated environment." Giles said, cleaning his glasses.
"We can be supportive. She doesn't need to go halfway across the world just to do...whatever they do. We can do it here."
"Xander." she spoke up. "I'm going with Giles. Today. I think its' for the best."
"You can't be serious, Wills!"
"I am. Please Xander. I'll come back. I just need to be there for a while, okay?" she walked up to him, hoping he'd enfold her in his arms, but he never did. "I love you."
"I love you too, Willow." he said sadly, then walked out of the house.
End Flashback.
"I have a lot of people to make amends with, don't I?" Willow asked.
Giles said nothing, but he took his hand in hers gently, and smiled again.
***
'Its' absolutely pointless for me to keep telling myself the nightmares will stop. I know they won't. Sometimes I wonder if that or the daydreams are worse. The ones where I am totally convinced I'm back in that moment and it loops over and over again, and when I come out I feel like this one horrible thing has happened a thousand times. And look at me calling them horrible now. I never used to care. What was I before? What kind of sick, twisted thing was I? What am I now? I want to end it but its' like I'm bloody paralysed and can't get up. Maybe I'll spend eternity here, watching Clem eat all my food and buy me more, thinking one day I'll eat it. I think I'll just tell him to leave tomorrow. He shouldn't be fussing over me like this. Its' not like I deserve it, after all. Oh, God. Listen to me. I sound like the bloody poofter. This is beyond pathetic. Where's my rye?'