Tara:
I've often walked past the old house on Crawford Street
and wondered who lives there or at least who used to live there. It has an
energy about it – something dark and magical, but not entirely sinister. It seemed
to me like there were so many stories behind those boarded over windows and
that heavy front door, and now I know I was right.
Willow's told me the chronicle she and Xander refer to as
the Angel/Buffy saga, of course, but she always spoke in vague terms about 'the
mansion'. And the whole account took on a sort of fairy tale like status in my
head. Forbidden love, tragic consequences, dramatic settings – it all appeared
to me more like a romance novel than real life. Now, however, I've actually met
Angel and seen him to be every inch the brooding hero Willow described him to
be. And I'm standing in the very room where Buffy offered Angel her blood in
order to save his life.
It's almost enough to send a thrill through me, I can
feel the residual power in the air, the forces of life, death and love swirling
through the room's atmosphere. If I concentrate very hard, I can almost hear
their voices as they argued, see their bodies falling to the ground in a deadly
embrace. It's a power I've had ever since I was a child; the ability to sense
traces of past events, etched into the surroundings. When I was nine we went on
a school field trip, to the location of one of the famous battles of the civil
war. All that was left was a field, filled with long grass and wild flowers,
but when I stepped out into it I heard the explosions, saw the blood, felt the
men's fear and agony. I cried so hard they had to take me home and I had
nightmares about it for months afterwards.
Trying to push the room's preternatural vibrations to the
back of my mind, I deliberately focus on the more conventional details of the
mansion. Essentially, it is the perfect residence for a vampire. Old, grand and
classically gothic. Angel obviously has good taste too, for the furniture is
antique and elegant and the room plushly decorated, although a little drab and
dusty from misuse. Intellectually, I like the place, it fascinates the witch in
me and appeals to my theatrical side. However, emotionally, I don't feel
comfortable here. To put it bluntly, I'm spooked. Things are just a little too
foreboding and the tension that hangs in the air doesn't help either.
Riley is obviously unhappy that the group's centre of
operations has been temporarily moved to Angel's home. He is playing the part
of the territorial male, emitting waves of hostility and keeping a tight hold
of Buffy's hand at all times. Xander too has lost some of his cheerful edge,
his dislike of Angel almost enough to match Riley's. Buffy, meanwhile, far from
striving to keep the peace as has been her aim for the past few days, is
unusually quiet. She seems to have withdrawn into herself, avoiding all eye
contact and replying monosyllabically to any question asked of her.
Angel's demeanour, on the other hand, is utterly calm and
controlled. Just looking at him surveying his guests impassively and doling out
formal courtesy to both Xander and Riley, reminds me of the saying 'still
waters run deep'. Mostly, when I meet new people I can see into them, look at
their auras and get a sense of who they are and what their personalities are
like. Angel, however, remains a total mystery to me. One minute I'll think I've
started to understand him, I'll catch his eye at an unguarded moment and see
some raw emotion there. But in the next moment he changes completely and all my
assumptions are shattered. Now, I am beginning to suspect that I'll never
really get to know him, however closely I watch his actions and listen to his
words. I won't know him, because nobody does – probably not even himself.
"I'm bored." Anya announces to nobody in particular.
"Somebody do something interesting."
"You wouldn't have any suggestions at all would you
Anya?" Willow asks with a slight hint of impatience. Although normally the most
tolerant of people, for some reason Willow has a much shorter temper than usual
wherever Anya is concerned.
"Yes," Anya answers, once again failing to pick up on the
sarcasm in Willow's tone. Xander claims he's explained the concept over and
over to her, but Anya never seems to get it. She just keeps wanting to know why
people don't just say what they mean in the first place and I suppose she has a
pretty good point there.
"Xander could take his shirt off." Anya continues with
enthusiasm. "I always find that makes things a lot more interesting."
Xander looks embarrassed by his girlfriend's behaviour.
"An, remember that conversation we had about public nudity and how it's a bad
thing?"
"Maybe we should just discuss the situation in hand,"
Angel interjects. "Then once we've worked out a plan of action everyone can get
on with whatever they'd rather be doing." He glances briefly over at Riley and
Buffy sat next to one another on one of the room's sofas.
"You see, Anya," Willow says with mock sweetness. "You'll
be able to have sex today, after all."
"Will," I berate her gently, reaching out to touch her on
the arm.
"Sorry," she mumbles.
"Now, has anybody got any ideas?" Angel asks.
Riley shifts his position slightly, squaring his shoulders
and scanning the room before replying to Angel's question. "Well, it the
biggest problem we've got is how to get the demons to meet back at the
Hellmouth so we can sacrifice them all together."
Angel nods. "That is going to cause some difficulties.
We'll probably have to do a spell to locate them in the first place, then maybe
take them by force to the Hellmouth."
"I don't particularly relish the idea of kidnapping ten
ferocious demons," Xander interrupts. "Do you?"
"We could always kill them, first and drag their bodies
there," Anya suggests, looking immensely pleased with herself for coming up
with a useful idea.
"Except the demons have to still be alive when we
sacrifice them," Willow points out.
Anya's face sets into a frown and I make an attempt to
placate her, before an argument develops. "I-it was a good thought, though."
"How about a trap?" Riley chimes in. "Then want revenge
on us for ruining their plans, so we could use a few group members as bait to
lure the demons there."
Angel shakes his head. "Too risky. I'm not putting anyone
in danger like that. Besides, we'd have no guarantee that all or even any of
them would come."
Riley shrugs. "Well, then, I'm stuck. What can we do?"
"Spike," Buffy says so quietly Riley has to ask her to
repeat it.
"What about him?" Angel asks in a hostile tone.
"He could lead us to the demons," Buffy explains. "He's
had contact with them before – they were the ones who removed his chip."
"But why would he want to help us?" Angel replies. "He's
not on our side anymore, remember?"
"That still doesn't mean he wants the world to end,"
Buffy points out. "I've teamed up with him before on that score."
There is an awkward silence in the wake of Buffy's
reference to what even I realise to be a taboo subject of discussion. Spike
helped Buffy defeat Angelus and now she's deliberately reminding Angel of the
fact. The animosity of the gesture is startling and leaves me wondering what
has happened between those two to deserve it.
"Anyway," Buffy continues. "I think Spike might be
willing to help us. He saved my life last night."
"HE DID WHAT?" Angel roars, the first real emotion I have
seen from him since my arrival.
"I was stuck fighting a gang of vampires without a stake
and he gave me one," Buffy unflinchingly stares down Angel's anger, a stark
contrast to the nervous attitudes of the rest of the room.
"That still doesn't make him your best pal again," Angel
responds acidly, but in a significantly calmer tone.
"I know," she nods her assent. "But, he's our only chance
of getting this plan to work, wouldn't you say?"
The next hour is spent discussing battle plans and
strategy and the general ins and outs of how exactly our small consort is going
to save the world once more. Most of the conversation is between Angel and
Buffy, who seem to get on much better when there is business to be discussed
and a larger problem to focus upon. The only source of contention that arises
between them is over who will approach Spike. Angel refuses to let Buffy
anywhere near him, whilst she argues that if anyone could persuade him to help
it would be her. Willow suggests that Angel and Buffy go together, but Riley
baulks at this idea, so the issue is left unresolved.
The whole process still seems incredible to me, that we
are actually sitting here discussing how to prevent the apocalypse and if we
don't do it then no body else will. It is awe inspiring as well as terrifying
to know that you are one of the few people that could stop the whole of the
earth from being destroyed. And everyone here appears to be taking it in their
stride – to them Armageddon is just another problem to be faced and solved. Of
the others in the room, only Riley seems a little dazed by the goings on. Even
Willow, who can be so shy and retiring sometimes, is actively involved in the
conversation. She puts forward a stream of ideas, explaining them all clearly
and concisely, and the group listens to her with respect. I squeeze her hand
lightly, trying to show how proud I am of the contribution she is making.
Eventually, Anya's constant complaining becomes enough to
break up the meeting. We all agree to
convene back at the mansion at nightfall, when hopefully Cordelia and Wesley will
have returned from LA, so they can be informed of the plans we have made today.
The time gap also giving Riley a chance to converse with his commando friends
and try to broker their involvement in the scheme.
Willow
stays behind a little while to talk in whispers to Buffy, but I am keen to get
back out into the sunshine, away from the oppressive atmosphere of the room and
the magic that seems to hang in the air like choking smog. Trying to find the
front door again, however, proves a little complicated. I turn the wrong way
down a corridor and end up in a strange room. Immediately, I am hit full force
by vibrations of past events still held in the room's walls and I know straight
away that this is where the vortex opened up to Hell and where Buffy killed
Angel.
Darkness surrounds me, stealing my breath away from my
body and I sense an overwhelming evil, like I have never experienced before –
even by the true Hellmouth at the high school. There is also agony and pain. I
taste salty tears and blood, catch the sound of whispered 'I love yous' and
Buffy's wracking sobs. A dark shadow appears in front of me, and I feel rather
than hear the echo of thousands of screams emanating from its swirling centre.
For several long seconds I am frozen, staring into the
black abyss, when suddenly a brilliant white light fills my vision.
Instinctively, I raise my hands to shield my eyes against the blinding glare
and, moments later, when I lower them again it is gone. All that is in front of
me is an empty room, cold and bare, cobwebs strung across its ceiling like
macabre Christmas decorations. Even the feeling has disappeared; all the
emotions that were previously so strong have now just vanished.
Still
shaking from my experience, I turn and run out of the room, being careful this time
to find the right way out into the fresh, late morning air.
Willow:
As the meeting breaks up, Xander is drawn into
conversation with Riley, whilst Angel has somehow been manoeuvred into an
argument with Anya over when exactly the motorcar was invented. Angel claims it
wasn't until about 1920, whereas Anya puts it at much earlier, around the turn
of the century, because she remembers granting a vengeance wish against an
unfaithful husband. His wife wished that he be run over by one of those newfangled
automatic carriages, however they were so slow back then that Anya recommended
she request that he be trampled to death by horses instead. But the woman
wouldn't be persuaded to change her mind, so the wish was granted and Anya was
proved right when the man ended up with injuries no more severe than a broken
toe. Fortunately, for the wife, however – Anya explains – her husband's wounds
later became gangrenous and he died from the infection.
Not really relishing the prospect of any more of Anya's scintillating
vengeance stories I am glad when Buffy pulls me to one side for a tête-à-tête.
We never got to properly finish our conversation yesterday, so I am glad of the
chance to talk to her now. I am worried about her, she seems so mixed up about
Angel and Riley and I'm afraid she might do something stupid. I understand how
she still cares about Angel, but they've been down that route several times
over and it's always ended in disaster. And now she could be at risk of
throwing away her chance to be happy with Riley over a few lingering feelings
of romance.
Angel's a great guy. He's handsome, sensitive, loving,
heroic, basically everything every young girl would dream of falling in love
with. In fact I even had a slight crush on him myself once. Just a teeny weeny
little crush, though. It was when he and Buffy first got together and
everything seemed so overwhelmingly perfect between them. I used to wish I had
someone like that, someone who cared that deeply about me, who would sweep me
off my feet and look at me as if I were the most important person in the world
to him. But it wore off when I realised that relationships are supposed to be
give and take, two people making the effort to be with one another, not some
fairy story of forbidden love.
Buffy, however, doesn't seem to have learnt this lesson.
Even though she has had her heart broken by Angel time and time again, she
keeps on going back for more. A part deep inside of me sort of understands,
knows that thrill you feel just when the person you love walks into the room.
The way your insides tingle when you see them and your skin burns for their
touch. And that part of me also knows the wrenching pain that tears through you
when they leave. I don't want Buffy to suffer that again. I don't want to see
the strong woman I care about so much reduced to a sobbing heap in my arms –
she deserves better than that. I know Angel never sets out to hurt her, but
somehow he always does. And she needs someone who doesn't just want for
to be happy, but who actually makes it happen.
"Will," she grabs my arm and guides me into the hallway.
"I-I kinda have some news…"
I frown, wondering what it could be and why she is so
nervous about telling me. "What is it?"
She hesitates slightly, her eyes wide and staring,
frightened almost. Which, despite her dangerous lifestyle, is not something I'm
used to seeing in Buffy. "Riley and I," she glances over her shoulder in
Angel's direction. "We're getting married." Her inflection is flat,
emotionless, and it jibes with the feelings I'd expect from someone who just
got engaged.
Despite my earlier rationalisations that Buffy should
pursue a relationship with Riley, this news upsets me. I didn't actually want
her to jump in and marry him, just to give the guy a chance and not break-up
with him. Surely there must be some middle ground between harshly rejecting
somebody and marrying them? Yesterday she was so certain of what she wanted.
She claimed she was in love with Angel and however much I can't help frowning
on that, I know her feelings can't have changed in just 24 hours. As much as I
don't want her to have her heart broken by Angel, I don't want it broken by
Riley either.
"But yesterday you said…"
"Forget yesterday," she hisses at me, still with her eyes
fixed on Angel. "A lot of things have happened since then."
I shake my head. "I don't understand. You said you loved
Angel, that you could never marry – "
"Keep your voice down," she interrupts me frantically. "I
don't want anyone else to know this Will – just you and me for now, okay?"
"Of course," I nod, still confused. "Did you talk to
Angel then? I mean, you talked to Riley, obviously. What…what made you change
your mind?"
She looks at me with eyes brimming full of tears. "I was
stupid. Stupid, naïve and stupid a couple more times. Angel and I – we can
never be…anything. I know what I'm doing here, Willow."
"But of you don't love him then you shouldn't marry him,"
I protest desperately. Two minutes ago I was convinced that the biggest mistake
of my best friend's life would be to chase after an impossible love and now I
think that maybe abandoning it will be even worse for her. Ordinarily, if she
told me this news I'd have been pleased for her. She's a little young to get
married yet, but that shouldn't really matter as long as both parties love each
other and are determined to make it work. And what she said yesterday might not
have even concerned me all that much if she wasn't staring at me now with such
a sad, haunted look in her eyes.
Buffy senses my worry and smiles at me reassuringly.
"It's okay. I'm doing the right thing – trust me."
She squeezes my hand and turns to walk away, leaving me
staring after her, still unconvinced. It's weird, but I have the strangest
feeling that whoever spoke to me just then, wasn't Buffy. Well, clearly she was
Buffy, because of the whole looking and sounding alike thing (also Faith is
safely locked away where she belongs, so I'm discounting any gratuitous body
switching scenarios). But to me, she was more like 'shell of Buffy', someone
whose gone through too much in too short a time and has just given up. And
giving up isn't exactly something I'm accustomed to seeing Buffy do.
It hurts a little inside to know that she has finally
surrendered her love for Angel, that she has lost all hope in their
relationship. I realise that it's for the best and it's what I've been trying
to persuade her to do for months, but now she's actually said the words and
accepted the truth, it means I have to face some facts too. Buffy and Angel had
romance novel love – the kind that is difficult and painful, yet everlasting.
Sometimes we all need to believe in that kind of feeling, we need the
irrational certainty that true love exists and is worth fighting for to get us
through the bad times and the lonely times and the moments of self-doubt.
My head doesn't believe in soul mates. It dismisses the
idea as silly or frivolous. I know in my mind that 'meant to be' doesn't exist
and that relationships must be worked at. They only depend upon what two people
are feeling at any one time. Sometimes feelings last, other times they don't,
but they certainly aren't written in the stars. My heart, however, is a little
more difficult to persuade. Deep down, I am still convinced that one day I'll
suddenly stumble across Oz and they'll be no more barriers or problems between
us. Someday in the future we'll have our time together.
For now I'm happy with Tara. More than happy, in fact. I
feel incredibly lucky to have loved this deeply twice in my life and in so
short a time. But there's always going to be a part of me that thinks 'what
if?' – what if Oz wasn't the wolf? What if I'd never met Tara? What if he's
managed to find the magicks he needs and is out there somewhere missing me?
Occasionally, I'll let my mind drift and suddenly I'll look down and in my
hands will be a spell book, turned to the section on werewolves. And I still
know which nights are a full moon – it's just part of who I am. He's
part of who I am.
And I know it's the same for Buffy and Angel, so it makes
me sad to see it end like this. It kills some of that childlike belief inside
me. With Oz and I at least I knew it was the right decision at the time. I'd
lost one relationship, but gained another equally life altering one. But Buffy
has practically admitted to me that she doesn't love Riley, so I can't possibly
be convinced that her marrying him is a good idea. She needs to move on for the
right reasons – because she's ready in her heart to do so, not because she's
angry or hurt or resigned to unhappiness. If she doesn't make the right choice
now then she'll only find herself regretting it in the long run.
Agitated, I find my way out of the mansion, forgetting
even to say my goodbyes to the others. I have just stepped into the garden,
when Tara shoots out the door behind me looking seriously upset.
Suddenly, all thoughts of Buffy's dilemma fly out of my
head. "What's the matter?" I ask anxiously. "What happened?"
She breathed deeply a couple of times, trying desperately
to answer me but her words just coming out as stutters. "It's okay," I soothe,
rubbing her back gently. "Just calm down a second."
"I-it's n-nothing," she finally manages to say.
"S-s-s-silly really. S-sorry."
I frown, "It must have been something to bother you this
much." She just shakes her head, so I prod further. "Tara?"
She looks away from me, hiding beneath her hair like she
always does. Normally, it's just one in a long line of things I find utterly
adorable about her, but today my concern overrides any possible cuteness
factor. I deliberately brush away the hair, waiting for her to speak.
She gives me a small nervous smile. "I-I thought I saw
something, that's all."
"Saw what? Where?"
"It was in the room where Buffy sent Angel to Hell," she
answers with startling certainty.
"But how did you know where that was?" I ask, puzzled.
"I felt it." She replies simply and I begin to
remember that Tara's not like most other people I know. She has this kind of
extra-sensory perception that I don't really understand, but have seen her use
so many times. She knew when Buffy wasn't Buffy, and she can always tell what
other people are feeling, even when they're just strangers on the street. I can
do magic, and without appearing immodest I'm actually getting quite good at it
– but I'm not a natural witch, not by any means, not like Tara is. She can do
spells without learning them first and cast magic without even thinking about
it, just feeling. So, when she claims something like this I believe her.
"What did you see?" I enquire more softly this time.
She waves her hands in the air, like she does when she
can't think of the words to describe it. "There was this black shadow," she
eventually says. "Then a brilliant white light, then nothing."
"What do you think it means? Or was it just echoes?"
We've spoken about this before, how Tara can sense the history of a place, just
by being there. Only it appears to be stronger when the emotions are stronger,
or when she knows the people involved.
Tara shakes her head. "There's something about this
house," she tilts her head to one side, thinking. "Or maybe not the house.
Maybe it's Angel. But whatever it is, the magic's very powerful and it's
building all the time."
I give this a few seconds to sink in. Something wrong
with Angel, something involving powerful magicks. "Oh no," I blurt out as my
thought processes reach their logical conclusion. "You don't think…?"
"Think what?"
"That Angel could be in danger of losing his soul again."
End of Part Thirteen