Part III
When she finally returned from a long shower she was feeling much better. The warm water and relative solitude of the stall made it easier for her to relax, allowing her to let out her emotions without fear of interruption for almost an hour. But as she made her way back down the carpeted hallway to her room it all began to boil to the surface again. It started when two girls passed her in the hall holding hands nervously. As she fumbled for her keys in front of her door she could smell jasmine and almonds, a combination that immediately equaled Tara in her mind. For a moment, she allowed herself a small hope that Tara had come to her room to talk, but there was no sign of the blonde witch. Just those two girls talking intimately outside a door down the hall.
One of them must use the same shampoo as Tara, Willow thought dejected and then made her way into her empty dorm room.
But it wasn't empty. A discarded cup from the Espresso Pump sat on Buffy's desk reminding her immediately of the night's events and humiliations. The redhead turned to find a photo strip of herself and Tara lying on her nightstand. She smiled as she remembered the afternoon in the mall. She had practically dragged Tara into the booth and the blonde was so camera shy she had hidden her face in Willow's hair in all but one of the frames. Tears began to well up in her eyes again. If she had just
"No. Not gonna go there right now." Willow's features set in her trademark resolve face as she made her way to the bed. Well, at least there's the wiggins box. That should distract me for a while.
She looked at her watch, which read 11:13. Okay, well, that's only two more hours til I can actually fall asleep, so let's go mr. Wiggins. The redhead carefully opened the box to find a beautifully crafted metal object nested in black velvet. A series of small stars was etched into its otherwise seamless surface, but their arrangement seemed random. Not a constellation, or at least not one I recognize, which brought the redhead painfully back to the blonde witch and her strange universe of unique constellations. Well, if you close one eye it could be the Big Pineapple. With a deep inhale she forced her thoughts back to the task at hand, carefully withdrawing the delicate-looking item from the box to turn it over. Again, there was no seam, nothing that hinted at the object's use. She sighed again and began to return the starry object to the box when she felt it, a rough spot under the sensitive pad of her index finger. Closer inspection revealed nearly microscopic writing etched into the unnaturally smooth surface of the metal. Willow searched for a magnifying glass in the nightstand and turned it to the silvery surface to read, spelling out one letter at a time.
"T-E-M-Poh! Tempus fugit?"
As soon as the words were spoken Willow threw a hand up to cover her mouth, but it was too late, the spell was cast. She could feel the charge building in the room like a storm. The first thing she felt was a strange stretching sensation as if her body and everything in the universe was being flattened and expanded simultaneously. For a terrifying nanosecond she was sure she would be torn apart by the powerful force of the spell and then the sensation changed. She was cold, unbelievably cold and the universe seemed to be rolling her up into a smaller and smaller space the size of a point. A one dimensional object.
and then water. Very warm water pouring over hernaked skin? And her face was wet with something else. Tears? What the?
Willow opened her eyes carefully, terrified that she would find herself in some nightmarish demon shower scene replete with her own Vamp self and definitely some kind of Faith-in-dominatrix-leather vision. But as her eyes slowly adjusted she could tell that she was surrounded by white tile. Oh god, maybe I'm in some kind of doctor hell with speculums andoh, or I teleported into one of the Initiative's scary demon-experimentation places.
She looked around panicked until her eyes finally rested on the familiar shape and color ofher shampoo bottle and shower kit? As she allowed herself to take in the rest of her surroundings she let out a long sigh of relief. I'm in the shower. The shower down the hall. But her relief quickly vanished. What am I doing in the shower? I just got out of the shower.
As her mind cycled rapidly through the strange events of the past few minutes, Willow's eyes fell on her trusty wristwatch. The big, black, clunky, dependable plastic one that Buffy made fun of daily, but Willow insisted on wearing everywhere including the shower because she always needed to know the time. Not that she was obsessive-compulsive about checking the time or anything it was just that she was proud of that watch. It had survived four apocalypses and two demon encounters without a scratch. How could she ever abandon that watch? By all rights it was a Scooby too. 10:27. She stared at the glowing digital display until the cute little blocks on the display rearranged to show that it was now 10:28. What are you doing standing here staring at your watch? You're wasting time Willow.
Timetime... And that meant something somehow
"Time flies!" Willow yelped and winced as her words echoed off the hard tiles around her. "Oh my god, it's a time machine," she muttered softly and began to hastily collect her things barely remembering to throw her robe around herself. As she hurried down the hall her mind raced through all of the potential magical and physical implications. Well, if I was a one-dimensional point then string theory definitely has-
She froze mid-stride as she turned the corner to her dorm room. Tara stood in front of the doorway to their room with her shoulders hunched as if she was carrying a terrible weight.
Willow pressed herself against the wall and ran through possible options: a)go back to the shower and hide b) run away, which wasn't really an option given her current wardrobe – well, there was that one guy who walked around in his pajamas all the timeor c)walk over to the blonde but then what? What would they talk about?
And why is Tara here? The answer swept over the redhead like an icy chill. Oh my God, she wants to talk. She wants to talk about the I-love-you explosion in her room. And we're gonna have that conversationthat "I'm sorry I just don't feel that way about you" speech and I just can't take it right now. Not after Oznot to mention Xander and Jessie and
And then she remembered the box. The time machine. I'm not in the right time. This isn't me. And what if there's another me in the room? Or what if I'm stuck here, like, forever? Oh God, I'm definitely gonna need Tara to help me figure this out so no running. No hiding. Just drastic verbal evasive maneuvers.
With a deep breath, Willow pulled the robe tightly around her body and put on her best resolve face – for herself. She was the one who needed resolve tonight.
"Hey, Tara" The blonde turned in one graceful movement, her lips twisting into a cautious smile as she faced the redhead. Willow willed her legs to propel her forward. Nothing happened. Nothing's changed. The blonde's eyes were still red-rimmed and swollen, but Willow forced herself to look past them, around them, anywhere but directly into the blue.
"WillowI, I w-wanted to ex-p-p-lain—" Tara began, stuttering badly and Willow's heart nearly broke. She knew that Tara's stutter grew worse when she was under stress and I caused it. I'm the cause of Tara-stress.
But she loved Tara-stutter. It forced her to stop her internal rambling for whole seconds at a time. A welcome reminder that she didn't need to fill every moment with defensive chatter. And more importantly, it gave her an excuse to study the blonde's features and expressions. And she's so cute when she stutters. The way she looks up every few seconds to make sure I'm listening and I'm not listening. Okay, focus. Tara talking, me listening
Willow forced herself back to the blonde's halting words,"s-such good f-friends and I d-d-don't w-want to r-ruin" It felt like the time machine all over again, like an enormous force was compressing her into a smaller and smaller point, but she knew it wasn't the spell. Oh God, she said the f-word! Friends. She wants to be all friendly with the platonic non-smoochiness and this is not happening, this can't be happening
"Friends!" Willow blurted out finally stopping Tara. "Yep, that's what we aregood friends." Nodding emphatically she finally risked a glance at Tara's face and found what she most dreaded – a frown -- deep lines forming between the blonde's perfectly sculpted eyebrows. To her horror her eyes began to involuntarily drift lower, to the low-cut shirt Tara had worn on her date. Stop! She's telling you she just wants to be friends and you're checking her out!
Willow guiltily glanced away clutching at her robe to pull it closed where her own chest was exposed. "And I'm sorry about" Willow paused to roll her eyes at her sudden inability to find anything to say. "you knowearlier and everything with the babble andfriends right? that's better and" she trailed off with a heavy sigh and looked at the floor.
Tara winced once and seemed to sink into herself. "Okay," she offered simply with a slight nod and let her hair fall in front of her eyes.
They stood that way for long moments, both with their arms wrapped tightly around themselves as they faced each other under the fluorescent hall lights and let the moment slip away. Everything in Willow's mind and body wanted to scream Tara's name. To explain with kisses and perfect poetry that Tara was the everything and the all. Yeah, and that would make this so much easier for her. The girl is already totally traumatized so just let it go and keep your mouth shut for once! Tara sniffed quietly and Willow checked her watch automatically to find that it was 11:09. Okay, I'm off schedule. I usually check my watch every ten minutes and
Time
Her train of thought was interrupted by the appearance of two girls rounding the corner, their hands clasped tightly between them. The same two girls. Willow's stomach turned over at the sight and then her other senses finally caught up with her. She could smell jasmine and sandalwood andTara. The hand-holdy girls, that smell
"You were here before!" Willow's head snapped to the blonde to find that she was staring at the two girls with a pained expression on her face.
"No, I j-just got here."
"No, I mean the first time this happened I came back from the shower a lot later and I could smell you, but I thought it was their shampoo or something but it was you," she realized that it might sound strange that she knew what the blonde smelled like. But she needed Tara to understand.
"Willow?"
"Something's wrong," Willow turned and opened the door to their room. "See, Buffy gave me this box with a metal thingy in it that she got off this demon and" she placed her shower kit back and turned to the bed to find the box empty. "It's gone!"
"What?" Tara asked. "Willow what's wrong?" And Willow saw in Tara's expression that the blonde had moved beyond their awkward conversation to her usual concern, ready to assist no matter what the danger.
How did I get so luckyeven if she just wants to be friends and I can handle thatreally. Handling itback to business Rosenburg. You have bigger things to worry about.
"Tara this isn't right. I'm in the wrong time."
Back to businessbigger things to worry about.
"Wrong t-time?" Tara asked gently, confusion clouding her features.
Just friends
"Tara I'm stuck in" but the words were lost as the universe began to stretch again. She watched in horror as Tara's beautiful features blurred and shifted.
Nothing's changed...
