Chapter V: A Californian Hippie in Downtown Sunnydale's Court
The tiger sprinted towards Willow, and with fear gripping her chest, Tara took two steps and then did a hop-skip. Like a baseball outfielder, she reared her right hand back, a stack of papers flying out of her jacket sleeves and into her hands. The papers first flowing and then whipping into the shape of a javelin, at the end of her hop, she threw it with all her might.
With her powers, the javelin flew true and hit the tiger right in the shoulder, in mid-leap, knocking it over and around Willow's body.
The nondescript man yelled something intelligible. The tiger gained its feet once more. "Give me the book or the girl meets her maker!" the man said. The tiger began running in circles around Willow, going so fast that it created a fiery ring around its captive. It then sat within the ring on its haunches.
Tara stood with her legs shoulder width apart, and contemplated for about two seconds. She decided that any man that would threaten a girl and bring a fire so close to a precious book was bad news and not to be trusted. She ran towards the ring, even managing a bit of a war cry. She let loose with a long stripe of paper, which unrolled and then attached itself to a light pole right above the tiger and Willow. She held on to her end and then lifted herself up and over the rim of the flames, landing gracefully within the circle. As soon as she landed and set herself in a crouch, she had the paper let go and then reform into a solid bow staff, which she then swept into the side of the tiger, surprised by her bold action, and tossed it out of the circle.
Allowing herself a small smile of triumph—though, honestly, she was still sitting in the middle of a ring of fire that the tiger had no problems going through—Tara rose to her feet. The light of the fire flashed in her glasses, hiding her exact expression. Willow had looked up at her at that moment and seen a vision of something otherworldly and too powerful for her to comprehend.
The nondescript man seemed to consider them a moment, before pulling out a pad of paper from his back pocket and a writing utensil. "Ah well, I'm sure a little charring on the cover will be forgiven," he said, calmly beginning to scribble on the paper.
The tiger suddenly took flight and ran away from them, towards the opposite side of the courtyard, but despite the fact that the ring of fire was now disappating, Tara didn't let her guard down. At the other side, the tiger whirled around and crouched. It then pulled its chin into its chest, like a lion about to roar or a cat trying to choke up a hairball.
No roaring or retching sounds issued forth; instead, there were the sound of gears and the whirring of mechanical parts—Tara had no idea how any part of its body could be made of metal. The sounds of industry grew louder until suddenly, they were silenced by a loud cocking noise. Tara's eyes flew wide.
"Assume crash positions!" she shouted in alarm, pulling Willow under her now crouching form and throwing another paper shield up. The tiger looked up from its crouched position, opened its mouth, and with a sound like a cannon, spewed out a fireball that slammed into the thin paper shield.
Tara had pulled Willow down and angled the shield acutely—it barely worked but it managed to deflect the blast instead of try to stop it completely, and consequently the fireball crashed right into the antique store behind them. The porch overhang was directly hit, the intricately carved eaves and porch railings serving as kindling for the quickly growing fire. Tara glanced at the damage for only a second—the poor antiques.
Despite the economy of her shield, the fireball had damaged it to the point that Tara was sure it would hardly last another blow. She poked her head out of her hiding place and spotted the tiger once again withdrawing into itself, preparing for another shot. Wildly, Tara looked for an avenue of escape or anything to inspire her.
A fire hydrant stood not three feet from the tiger. Desperately, Tara threw a line of paper at it, catching and wrapping around the connector that pointed towards the tiger. With a jerk of her hand, the paper that was wrapped around it turned sharp, and cut through the piping. A deluge of water, courtesy of the Sunnydale Water and Sewage Service, flew out of the new opening and completely covered the tiger with its spray. The beast roared as it was engulfed. Then it was silent.
As the heavy clouds of steam cleared away, the tiger had disappeared. The nondescript man looked shocked, and ran a hand through his hair. "You!" he shouted, pointing an index finger at Tara, still clutching his pen and paper. He furiously began scribbling at his pad, and then turned heel and ran. Tara began to run after him, watching as he rounded a corner of a house.
Before she could reach the porch he had been standing on, a lamb suddenly appeared. It was black and had huge, scary lamb-eyes. It opened its mouth, and instead of a tongue or a bleat coming out of it, the lamb began to sing.
It had the most beautiful voice Tara had ever heard. Like a siren's call, she walked slowly towards it, transfixed and staring at liquid eyes. She had no idea what words it was singing, or what the song was about, but it was definitely not about meadows, wool, or girls named Mary. Tara was only peripherally aware of Willow walking to her side and gawking as well.
Suddenly, the lamb stopped, chewed a little bit, and then disappeared.
Tara stared at where the lamb had been, before shaking her head.
She turned to Willow at the same time as the redhead turned to her. Willow was the first to ask. "What just happened?"
Tara stared back. "I have no idea," she replied. Coming to her senses, Tara rememebered the burning building. Running towards the fire hydrant, and using the last of her paper, she deflected the water towards the boutique until, all her papers sodden and worthless, the flames had been drowned.
Flicking droplets of water from her hands, Tara turned to Willow. The reason why she had run away in the first place came back to her, and she shyly looked down. She was petrified, not knowing what to say after all that Willow had just witnessed. She was sure that she was about to face yet another rejection of herself, not just romantically, but as a human being. At the top of her vision, through the tops of her glasses, she saw Willow's feet moving towards her and she held her breath.
Willow's face suddenly came into view as the girl bent down and angled herself so she could see into Tara's face. "Wow."
Tara blinked. She looked up, and Willow visibly looked grateful as she straightened. "Wow," she repeated.
"Really?" Tara asked, her voice small and her breath short.
"Oh, yes" Willow said, and Tara's breath rushed out of her in one long exhale. "You're like Spiderman and Wonder Woman put together!"
Now Tara blushed but she didn't look down.
Unbeknownst to the two of them, a black luxury car with darkly tinted windows pulled up to the curb behind them, and a man with graying hair exited from one of the back doors. He surveyed the sodden mass of papers and other debris, and spotted Tara and Willow in their own world. His eyes narrowed as he recognized one of them.
"The Paper," he muttered under his breath.
A/N: Who is this mysterious man? Will he be the impetus to create a more interesting chapter? Does he like carrots? Two of these questions will be answered in the next installment! Which I promise will come before year 2012.