Tara felt the tension return as Faith opened the door to Stevenson Hall. Buffy might be in their room.
"Relax, T." Faith must have sensed her fear. A warm hand dropped onto Tara's shoulder. "B ain't here."
"H-how do you kn-know?" Stuttering from the stress, Tara ducked away from the reassuring hand and plodded up the stairs.
In a move that left Tara even more drained of energy, Faith ran by, taking the stairs three at a time. "Trust me, Blondie," she called from the next landing, "if B was here, I'd know. It's a gift." She grinned and her dimples teased an answering smile from Tara. "Now, when we get in the room, you park yourself on the bed while I pack. Things might get wadded up, but maybe you won't be ready to pass out on the walk home."
Flushing at the accurate assessment of her condition, Tara silently followed Faith to the room. She watched numbly as Faith used her own key and unlocked the door.
"See? No B." Faith waved at the empty room. "Now, sit your ass down and start pointing to the stuff you can't live without." Her wink belied the gruffness of her words as she rummaged in Buffy's closet and unearthed a duffle bag.
"Um…It's ju-just the stuff in the dr-dresser and the skirts in the closet." Tara dropped onto her never-used bed.
Faith yanked open drawers. True to her word, clothes and underwear went into the bag with absolutely no regard for wrinkles. She finished clearing out the single drawer Tara had filled. "You ain't got a lot."
Tara shook her head. "No." She didn't elaborate.
"You and me, T. We're a lot alike," Faith announced. Ignoring Tara's wide-eyed astonishment, she moved to the closet and pulled the skirts from the hangers. "When I jumped off the train in Sunnydale, I had one bag. Everything I owned." Her voice trailed off, and Tara saw her shoulders slump for a second.
There was an implied vulnerability in that pose. It called out to Tara. "Y-you were run-running from something?" she stuttered. She couldn't imagine the brash and confident Faith afraid of anything.
"You could say that, T." Faith's shoulders snapped back, as if she were forcibly reminding herself to keep them that way. "Life sucked in Boston." She didn't continue, and Tara watched her stare across the room with a vacant look in her eyes. After a minute, Faith blinked. "Fuck. Sorry about that. Don't think about that shit very often."
"I do." Tara hunched forward. "I th-think about it all the time." That was the problem. She couldn't shake the memories.
The duffel landed on the bed next to her, startling Tara into looking up.
"Then you need to stop," Faith announced bracingly. "Come on. Take a look around to make sure I got everything before we head home. It gets too much later and Red is gonna be real unhappy."
She made it sound like the end of the world, and Tara couldn't stop her giggle. "A fate to be avoided at all costs?"
"You know it, T. Red's got a temper to match her hair." Faith stuffed her hands in her back pockets and rocked on her heels while Tara peered into the closet and drawers. "We good to go?"
"We're good." Tara grabbed the bag and looped it across her shoulders on the opposite side of her book bag. At Faith's sardonic look, though, she yanked it back off and thrust it at Faith. "I'm n-not a little kid. I c-can ca-carry my own luggage."
Faith's only response was a wide smile as she spun and strode out the door.
"It wasn't heavy. It wouldn't hurt me to carry my own clothes," Tara mumbled.
"I heard that, Blondie. Get the lead out. My girl's waiting for us." Faith's voice wafted into the room.
Making an unseen face at her tormentor, Tara slammed and locked the door. "Ready, Faith." Tara bared her teeth in a wide, patently false, smile. "Willow won't have to w-wait much longer."
"'Bout damn time." Faith flung open the door to the stairwell. She set a quick pace, and Tara jogged down the stairs trying to keep up. "How long you been doing the magic stuff, T?"
At least Faith had waited until they were out of the dorm and hustling across the Quad. "As l-long as I can remember," Tara answered softly. "Mama m-made sure I kn-knew the basics." They'd hidden in the attic and poured over spell books and potions. Tara still heard her mother's voice explaining the need for balance in nature and magic, and her stern warnings against using her power for everyday tasks.
"I ain't asking to make you feel pressured." Tara bit back a smile at Faith's transparent start. "But you think you could maybe teach Red some of that? She's real smart. Too smart, sometimes. She kinda thinks she's better than the books."
A shiver worked its way down Tara's spine. "You mean she makes up her own spells?" That was bad. She hadn't felt any dark magic in Willow's aura, but Tara hadn't been looking for any, either. A novice witch branching out on her own… It was like opening a door for evil.
"A couple of times." Faith reached out and grabbed Tara's arm to steady her as she stumbled. "Nothing big."
Faith's eyes slid to the side as she said that. She was lying. "I'd be happy to h-help if Wil-Willow wants me to." If she didn't, Tara couldn't force her to learn the right way to spellcast.
"Wicked. Thanks, Blondie." Faith's smile was so bright, Tara realized she must have really been worried about Willow.
"You're welcome." Still trotting to stay close to Faith, Tara followed the other girl through a narrow, gated entrance to a large apartment complex. A few more minutes - and three very long flights of stairs later - they stopped in front of a door.
Faith dug out her keys, but the door swung open to reveal an extremely disheveled Willow. "Hey, I thought you guys got lost. I was about to call Giles and start looking for you." Wiping away a tear, Willow stepped back and waved for them to go inside.
Buffy balled up the tissue in her hand and sniffed.
"I'm sure you're overreacting, honey. Give Willow a chance to calm down and then talk to her." Joyce wrapped her arm more tightly around Buffy and stroked a hand over Buffy's left arm.
"Are you sure?" Buffy wasn't. She wasn't sure at all.
A kiss pressed against her head. "I'm sure, honey. You and Willow have been through too much for this to be more than a bump in the road."
It was exactly what Buffy wanted to believe. "Thanks, Mom." A yawn caught her off guard. "Do you mind if I skip the rest of the movie and go to bed?" Not like either of them had actually watched any of the movie to this point.
"Go on, Buffy. I think I might have an early night, too." Joyce's deep breath and sigh were loud against the sounds of the television. "I've spent too many late nights watching reruns and tearjerkers."
Standing up, Buffy held out her hand. "I'm not that far away, Mom. You could always come visit."
"I didn't want to intrude, honey. You're in college now; I'd just be in the way." Joyce's arm snaked around Buffy's back again as they moved to the stairs.
"In the way of what? My demon ex-roommate trying to take over my body? Or me scaring my new roommate the second she walks in the door?" Buffy tilted her head and looked up at Joyce. "I haven't had a social life since we left LA, Mom. Even as College Buffy, I'm still the Slayer. I do classes, I attempt to do homework, and I slay. End of story. Some good old fashioned Mom Time would be a welcome change."
They walked up the stairs in silence. At Buffy's door, Joyce turned and wrapped her in a hug. "Buffy Time sounds good to me, too." Her voice was husky and choked, and she turned and moved away so quickly Buffy didn't have a chance to respond. "Good night, honey. Remember our doughnut run in the morning."
"Now, remember, honey. Just be yourself with Tara. I'm sure once she sees you aren't the same Buffy from Hemery, she'll change her mind about leaving." Joyce smiled reassuringly.
"Thanks, Mom." Returning the smile, Buffy leaned across the Jeep and hugged Joyce before leaping to the sidewalk. "I'll give it a try." With a final wave, she jogged up to the dorm. The Jeep's engine roared behind her as she yanked open the door to Stevenson Hall and sprinted up the stairs. "Tara's still here. Tara's still here," Buffy chanted with each huge stride.
The hallway was full of people in a hurry. Buffy mumbled a few good mornings as she dodged the bodies clogging her path. She paused outside her dorm room's door. "I'm not that person anymore." The key slipped into the lock; the handle turned. Buffy stepped inside…
…and stared at the empty bed and lack of personal items on Tara's side of the room. She was gone.
Numbly, Buffy wandered over and sat on her bed. Tara was gone. She hadn't even given her a chance to explain or make up for what had happened in Los Angeles. The silence in the room was stifling.
She couldn't stay here. Not now. Buffy jumped up. She had to get out of here.
Almost running, Buffy fled the room and the residence hall. She needed to talk to Willow. Her footsteps slowed. No, she couldn't do that. Willow was mad at her. Willow had walked away, too, just like Tara.
Home?
No. Her mom was at the gallery.
"Giles," Buffy said out loud. She could go talk to Giles. She hadn't seen him in a few days. Picking up her pace again, she jogged down the sidewalk. A long talk and some sparring. That would help.
"Buffy?" The voice didn't register at first. "Buffy! Stop!" The shout finally penetrated and she skidded to a halt. Panting, Parker Abrams ran up. "I saw you come out of Stevenson. Is something wrong? The meeting with the loan shark not go so well?"
It took Buffy a few seconds to make the connection to their conversation from last night. "Something like that." Buffy didn't tell him that she was actually the loan shark and Tara the customer afraid of getting her legs broken. "Look, I'm sorry…"
"Why? You didn't do anything." Parker smiled. "Are you late for class or is this part of your daily workout?"
Neither, Buffy wanted to say. This is me running away from my problems, like always. "No. No classes. I had some free time. Thought I'd hit the gym."
"I'm sure your muscles could handle a day off," he said. Holding out his hand, Parker pleaded. "Why don't we go for a walk? I know a great place to have lunch later, and I'm a really good listener, too."
Buffy hesitated. She really needed to talk to Giles. Pound on the heavy bag.
"Please?" Parker added softly.
His hand was warm as she reached out and took it. "Where to, Parker Abrams?"