Uninvited: Don't Give Up
by You-Know-Who and Drucilla

Disclaimer: Yeah. You know the drill. Read and review, g-ddammit!

"Don't give up
'cause you have friends
Don't give up
No reason to be ashamed
Don't give up 'cause somewhere there's a place where we belong
Rest your head
You worry too much
It's going to be all right"
-- Peter Gabriel," Don't Give Up"

Tara couldn't believe that she was this fed up with work already. Particularly the customers. She half-heartedly took a man's order as she contemplated the miserable fate of being stuck working here forever.

Even her last job had been better than this. It had been a greasy spoon, but at least it had been a polite greasy spoon. The manager on her shift was gay and didn't hit on her (though he did tut-tut her fashion sense), the staff were all pleasently indifferent, and the customers were at least well-mannered enough not to slobber all over her apron.

Here, she was hit on right and left by the slime of the earth. Her manager being the absolute worst of the lot of them. She nimblely avoided him as she placed the order with one of the cooks. She sighed. Living with the taciturn vampire-hunter was heaven compared to this. Hell, living with the vampires would probably have been better than this. At least it'd be over quickly. She apathetically handed out food to one of her tables and longed for her shift to be over. She needed a different job desperately, but finding one in LA was much harder than in Sunnydale. She found herself missing Sunnydale even more as she moved listlessly from table to table.

She'd probably have to keep trying the bookstores, and the more upscale coffee shops. Maybe even see if there was a magic store or two around. She definitely wasn't going to settle for this job. Not even if she was paid decent wages...which come to think of it, she really wasn't. Nothing about this place was decent.

She glanced at the clock half-tempted to use a spell to make the time go by as fast as possible. She shook her head...that wouldn't make this any better really...not in the long run.... She didn't want to have to fast-forward her life all the time. And besides, that was how Willow got in trouble. There was a right way and a wrong way to use magic, and no matter what anyone else said, Tara knew that. And then suddenly she nearly dropped the tray. Holtz. She hadn't told him about her powers.

How was she going to tell him about that? Hopefully it wouldn't be too big of a deal. She handed out plates of food to tables like a mindless drone as she thought about how she would tell him, paying little to no attention to her customers other than their requests. After all, he was a vampire hunter. He was already well aware that there were things out there beyond what most people knew about. Hopefully he would be okay with it.

She was looking forward to telling him all things considered if it meant she'd be done working here for the day. She still hadn't found any other potential girlfriend at all....she could have taken her pick of the scuzzy guys however. She shuddered. Thank whomever that she was gay. It cut down a lot on the potential assholes in the dating pool.

She scowled, an expression learned from Holtz without realizing it, as she dodged yet another hand reaching out to grab her ass. Oh yeah. Definitely a change of job, and soon. She glared at the offending male and stormed off to the kitchen to take care of her other orders. Man, this job was so lousy.

"Hey, chickie," the head cook cracked his gum as he talked to her, "Betts called in sick, you'll have to work half her tables, too."

"Fine," Tara said curbing her anger and stalking off to Bett's tables and taking their orders. Just what she needed. She expended an extreme amount of will in not dropping the tray then and there and quitting. She needed this job, especially if she was going to furnish the damn crypt so that it looked more like an actual home than a dungeon. She mumbled this under her breath over and over like it was some sort of mantra as she took her orders.

"Hey there, darlin," a man said as he grabbed her free arm, his breath reeking of bad alcohol. "Come on, take a load off those pretty feet of yours, hmm?" His leer made it fairly obvious what he meant.

She wretched her arm away from him angrily. "No thanks."

He leered at her, but (fortunately for her and him both) didn't try and grab her again. "Aaw... c'mon. We could have some fun..."

"No," she said firmly fixing him with an angry glare before walking away.

"Dyke bitch," she heard him mutter. As she passed the manager she heard him say to her under his breath, "Don't be rude to the customers." She gritted her teeth and barely was able to control herself from making a comment.

The next hour or so kept her busy enough that she wasn't able to give or really pay attention to any commentary. By the time her shift was finally over, she was pissed, depressed, and homesick. She walked home, still trying to get the grease off her hands, hunched over despite the pain in her back and walking quickly despite the pain in her feet. She took a slow, long, hot shower miserably scrubbing herself as though she was obsessive-compulsive, threw on whatever clothes she found, and crawled into bed.

Holtz came home nearly two hours later, somehow managing to stomp silently in. He looked around in mild surprise before seeing her curled up on the bed, her face buried under her pillow. He watched her, trying to gauge her mood before approaching her. She remained the way she was, not really noticing him returning or caring particularly at the moment.

After a while he went over to the stove and, with some muttered commentary, managed to put on a pot of water to boil without too much confusion and hassle. From the way it sounded, she thought, you'd think the man had never used a stove before. She sighed and stretched groggily, sitting up in bed but not leaving it. Holtz was staring at the stove dubiously, like he expected it to burst into flames at any moment. She shook her head rubbing her eyes and yawning.

"Tea?" Holtz asked, not taking his eyes off the stove.

"Sure," she said with no enthusiasm whatsoever. "Or maybe a stiff drink." She folded her arms miserably and stared at the ceiling. He glanced back at her with surprise before glancing back at the stove like it was going to bite him as the kettle began to whistle. She scowled hoping she didn't have to figure it out for him...then she felt bad....and sighed but didn't move.

He seemed to have less trouble getting the kettle off the stove and the tea made. He brought her cup over, handed it to her... and then brought over a chair and sat by her, sipping at his tea and saying nothing.

Tara set the tea down on the table next to her bed. She had bought it recently on a whim. She debated saying something mostly due to his silence. She stretched again and stared at him instead. He simply sat there, watching her and seeming to be lost in thought at the same time, sipping the tea. Chamomile, she noted absently. She sighed and sipped her tea as well working on preventing herself from scowling. The day had been awful, but she didn't want to be scowling throughout the rest of it.

Holtz set aside his tea and seemed to be thinking of something. After a moment's thought, he leaned over her after a second, picking up her hairbrush from her bedside table and beginning to brush out her hair, more gently than she ever remembered anyone doing. She was a bit confused by this at first but it was a nice distraction she supposed. She set her tea down and closed her eyes. His hands were surprisingly gentle as he teased the knots out of her hair. She sighed heavily releasing some of her pent up frustrations and placed her head on her hands as he continued.

He brushed her hair back from where it had fallen into face with improbably gentle hands, and resumed brushing her hair, finally putting it into a loose braid before sitting back in his chair. She sighed again and sank back down onto the bed giving him a weak smile of thanks.

He saluted her with his cup as he resumed the tea. Tara giggled finding that very amusing for some reason. Well, more amusing than usual. She wasn't sure, but he may have smiled back, if only briefly. She tried to curb her giggling unsucessfully and said something completely unintelligible. He arched his eyebrows at her in question. "You...and..the...tea..cup..." She giggled some more.

He just stared at her, utterly confused.... and then proceeded to sip the last of the tea from his cup.... looking utterly foppish and pretentious. Maybe he wasn't that confused after all. Tara collapsed on the bed and managed to eventually stop giggling. "Don't do that again..." she said gasping for air. He smiled slightly, behaving normally now and setting the cup aside.

She shook her head and sighed again. "I appreciate it, but...you really looked silly."

"That was the idea," he said softly, still smiling slightly.

"Oh," Tara said. "I hadn't considered that." She chuckled. "And here I thought you had no idea how absolutely ridiculous you looked," she added.

He chuckled ruefully. "Oh, I knew. I used to do that when my d...." he shut down, emotionally, as fast as someone might throw a switch, and stared at the floor between them for a few moments. Eventually he stood and took the empty cups back to the sink.

Tara's face fell. She felt much better now. Great, she thought to herself. You've made him miserable again. She felt terrible, miserable, and fed up with work. He stood there for a few minutes, leaning over the sink, not moving. She groaned and got off her bed moving over to where he was to try to be of use... He made a sort of waving motion, almost motioning her back. It was the sort of gesture that was usually accompanied by the words 'I'm fine,' which were usually a blatent lie. She ignored it and moved closer to him in an attempt to perhaps provide silent solace...or...support... He didn't move, away or towards her.

"I'm sorry about pointing out that you looked ridiculous," Tara said and then attempted to maintain a neutral face. That wasn't exactly what she had meant to say but....oh well. He chuckled, which was a sort of progress, but there wasn't any humor in it. Tara tentatively put a hand on his shoulder. He didn't move. He was so tense, hunched over and knotted up. She pursed her lips, thought it over and decided to give him a back massage. She over her other hand to his other shoulder and began to work gently on the tension in his shoulders.

At that he did move, turning and staring at her like she'd just done something vaguely indecent like run her hands up under his shirt... except that he didn't look like he was sure it was indecent. She cocked her head in innocent confusion. "Well, you seemed tense. I thought maybe a back massage would help."

"....oh," he said quietly. "I thought... I...." he shook his head slowly. "I'm still getting used to this."

Tara chuckled. "It's okay...I should have probably thought about that beforehand..." Which oddly enough reminded her that she hadn't told him about her magical abilities.....

He shook his head slowly, as it looked like something was starting to occur to him. "You haven't guessed, have you."

"Not completely, no," Tara said sheepishly.

He stared at her, trying to piece together the sense of that statement. "But you know there is something to guess."

"Yes." He stared at her, clearly not sure whether or not to tell her. "Tell me?" Tara asked. Then it would be her turn....

He sighed. "I'm ... not exactly from ... around here." Tara giggled. Then she regained her composure and nodded. "I was... brought forward. Into the future. 227 years." Each word came out slightly choked, slightly strangled. It wasn't easy for him to say, evidently. She wasn't sure why.

The first thing that came to her mind other than: That's a long time was that meant...his..daughter died...a long time ago..... She nodded silently. He stared at the floor between them again, seeming to be looking at all the years he missed, the two centuries that he'd completely passed by. "I was... asleep. Or so Sahjhan says," his tone suggested he didn't completely trust the demon. "The dreams..." Tara made a small sound of sympathy and nodded having nothing to say that she thought would help him.

"I was... brought forward. To kill the demons that slaughtered my family." He practically growled the last words, clenching his hands into fists. Then, slowly, he relaxed his stance, letting his hands fall open again. Tara looked down at the floor. Wow.....that was so....sad....no wonder he was so alone.... She bit her lip, raising her eyes. She moved closer to him and took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. She was surprised that he had trusted her with this.

He glanced at her, surprised at her concern and kindness... but grateful, too, she thought. Grateful for the simple contact of her hand holding his. She decided to tell him a little later... after all, what he had told her was...more important.

He moved slightly away from her though... more for somewhere to go, it seemed, than a need to get away from her, really. He moved like he simply needed to get away from himself, from his life, from his memories. Maybe she should tell him..just so he'd have something else to focus on..... "I....it's not very important, but....there's something I probably should tell you." And what was she going to do about telling Holtz she was a lesbian? Which also reminded her about wanting to know his first name. She sighed...wow...she really was a nuisance. He turned, stared at her dully, with haunted eyes. At least this explained why he looked so tired all the time.

"I...I could just tell you later," Tara said with sad eyes due to how unhappy he looked.

He actually made an attempt to shake off the gloom. "What is it?" he asked gently.

She sighed and used a little magic to make little lines of fire coruscate over her hands and then disappear. "I'm a witch." A lesbian witch from Hellmouth might have been a little much so she stuck with the basics for now.

If she'd been hoping to distract him, she succeeded. His eyes widened and he took a step backwards, opening his mouth to say something and then closing it again. He looked... not exactly afraid but definitely wary, and startled. And on edge.

"A good witch?," Tara added a bit sheepishly. He just stared uncomprehendingly. Wizard of Oz must have been before his time. "Well, I use...errr..magic to help people....I don't use it all the time....but....." She shrugged. He waited, slowly losing the startled edge but none of the wariness. Maybe she should tell him she was a lesbian. Then he'd forget about the past, her being a witch, and freak out. She was doing a great job making a fool of herself.

"How did you come by these powers?" he asked finally.

"My mother was a witch. It runs in the family," Tara said smiling.

"I...see," he said, clearly not seeing but willing to accept it anyway, at least for now. He looked almost relieved for some reason. Tara looked rather confused that he was relieved. Well, almost relieved...

After a few moments more of staring at her he sighed, suddenly seeming very tired, and crossed the room over to his customary chair and flopped in it. "Would you like anything?" Tara asked looking after him as he moved to the other side of the room. He looked up at her, startled, for a second before dropping his gaze again and shaking his head wordlessly. "Okay," Tara said softly. She was tempted to push the issue but didn't. She sat down on her bed and kept an eye on him. He didn't move for a long, long time. After a while it looked as though he'd fallen asleep in the chair.

She wondered what she could do for him....but nothing came to mind. Maybe when he got up they could do do something less stressful. Like a movie or something...oh....that would probably freak him out though. Wow.....how did he deal with all of this? At least, that explained so many little things about him. Why he was freaking out over stupid teen drama shows, why he didn't know how to use a stove or anything.

She really had to show him some pleasant examples of the modern world. His life had been filled with so much pain though....but maybe some pleasant things would do him good. Besides he couldn't just live for revenge.... Except, that seemed to be exactly what he was doing. She hadn't seen him do anything other than go out, kill vampires, and come back depressed. She wondered what they could do that would be more...more healthy....Maybe a walk for starters...without him having to worry about killing vampires. Yeah...right.... So what else? Goddess, what had his life been like before she came along? Go out, kill vampires, come back, sleep, repeat cycle tomorrow. And with only the demon for company... no wonder he acted so strangely.

She really had to come up with something...anything at all really would probably work for now. He seemed so nice....and the way he was living was so terrible. That demon had to be up to something. She really didn't like him now....even if he did buy the groceries. Tara resolved to try and figure out what the demon was up to... and in the meantime, to try and make both their lives a little less depressing. Hmmmm.....but what to do?

Well, brightening the place up would be a start. Maybe also getting some videotapes that weren't so... bad. Maybe... oh! Shakespeare! He'd know Shakespeare... she tried to think of some film renditions that weren't too terrible. Or maybe they could go see a play of it....or.... Well, Kenneth Branaugh did good film renditions. A comedy would be much better than a tragedy all things considered so Hamlet was out. Especially since Hamlet involved young women dying. There had been a good version of Midsummer that had been released recently, maybe she could get 'hold of that.

She yawned. Now that she'd figured out a lot of stuff she was suddenly a lot less stressed... and very tired. She decided since he was sleeping anyway she'd take brief nap and then present the idea to him... Tara curled up on her bed, feeling better about things, if not completely relieved.