Restless: Part I
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Tara was lying on her stomach, resting her chin on crossed arms. Willow smiled from behind her. The air itself seemed to sing with contentment, and the warm feeling of protection and care. Love seemed to sing from every square inch of the two as they smiled at each other adoringly. Relaxed.
“I think it's strange,” the golden-blonde witch commented softly. “I mean, I think I should worry that we haven't found her name.”
Willow stopped her delicate work and frowned. “Who, Miss Kitty?”
“You'd think she'd let us know her name by now.”
“She will,” Willow replied confidently. “She's not all grown yet.”
“You're not worried?” Tara inquired curiously.
“I never worry here,” Willow whispered. “I'm safe here.”
As she said so, she resumed painting the Greek symbols once more. They flowed from underneath her brush like silk.
“You don't know everything about me.” Tara replied.
“Have you told me your real name?” Willow asked.
“Oh, you know that,” Tara smiled.
They paused, and Willow dipped the brush into the ink jar again and resumed painting on Tara’s naked back.
The blonde witch sighed and relaxed as the love poem curled across her skin, speaking so eloquently what the two felt. After a moment, she looked up at Willow again, earnestly.
“They will find out, you know,” she murmured quietly. “About you.”
Willow frowned, lines of worry crossing her forehead. “Don't have time to think about that. You know I have all this homework to finish.”
“Are you going to finish in time for class?” Tara asked.
“I can be late,” Willow shrugged.
“But you’ve never taken drama before… might miss something important,” Tara worried.
Willow merely smiled. “I don’t wanna leave here.”
Tara smiled even gentler this time, if it were possible. “I know, but you have to.”
Willow didn’t hear her…
“Well, you must have done something,” Buffy frowned in disapproval.
“No,” Willow stammered. “I never do anything. I'm very seldom naughty. I, I just came to class, and, and the play was starting…”
Nervousness swamped her. Buffy never acted like this… she knew she didn’t. Buffy never blamed anyone except for herself. It was something Willow worried about, but at the moment, she was so confused she didn’t know what to think. Adrenaline still pumped through her from whoever… whatever had tried to kill her.
Buffy straightened up. “Play is long over. Why are you still in costume?”
“Okay, still having to explain wherein this is just my outfit,” Willow gestured to her clothes.
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Willow, everybody already knows. Take it off.”
Willow looked around, bewildered. Afraid. “No. No. I need it.”
Buffy rolled her eyes again. “Oh, for god's sake, just take it off!” she spun Willow around and ripped her clothes off.
Suddenly the entire classroom was filled.And the entire class was laughing.
“See?” Harmony giggled. “Isn't everybody very clear on this now?”
Willow felt lost. Broken. Instinctively she knew that they were laughing about her, and instinctively, she clammed up. Retreating into herself. It didn't stop the words, however.
“My god, it's like a tragedy,” Anya sniggered.
Oz whispered something to Tara. “I tried to warn you,” he gave Willow a disgusted look.
One look from those eyes still stopped her heart. But this one? It shattered her.
Anya was still giggling. “It's exactly like a Greek tragedy. There should only be Greeks.”
Despite her confusion and hurt, Willow knew she had to keep going. Shelooked around nervously, feeling her throat dry up as she found no friendly faces. “My book report. This summer I, I read "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe." “
Xander leaned back in his chair to glance up at the ceiling. “Oh, who cares?”
Oz nuzzled Tara’s cheek while she giggled.
Desperately, Willow tried to go on. Xander's words echoed in her mind.
“This book ha-has many themes...”
But it was for naught. Something burst into the room and knocked Willow down, screaming. Growls and shrieks filled the air, but no-one helped.
“Help! Help me!” Willow cried desperately. “Help me!”
But no one did.
Willow’s eyes widened. Then the skin on her face wrinkled and dried, and her eyes slid shut.
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“Where are you from, Harris?”
The voice was breathy, almost sibilant in its tone. Xander, still kneeling on cold stone floor, felt the words come out of his mouth before he even thought.
“Well, the basement, mostly.”
“Were you born there?” the sibilant voice asked.
Xander nodded. -Everything in my life seems to lead to there after all, right?-
“Possibly.”
“I walked by your guidance counselor's office one time. A bunch of you were sitting there ... waiting to be shepherded.”
As the owner of the voice moved out of the shadows, Xander realized that it was Snyder. Confusion and alarm moved over his face, but Snyder spoke before he could.
“I remember it smelled like dead flowers,” Snyder whispered. “Like decay. Then it hit me. The hope of our nation's future is a bunch of mulch.”
“You know, I never got the chance to tell you how glad I was you were eaten by a snake,” Xander informed him, feeling his hatred for his former principal return.
Instantly, however, he regretted it.–Oops, shouldn’t have said that-
Snyder ignored the comment and sat up, perusing him intently. “Where are you heading?”
Xander shrugged. “Well, I'm supposed to meet Tara and Willow. And possibly Buffy's mom.”
“Your time is running out…”
“No, I'm just trying to get away,” Xander explained. A look of fear slowly crossed his face. Something was after him, of that he was sure. And... he wasn't sure if Buffy was going to help him. He wasn't even sure if Buffy was alive. “There's ... something I can't fight.”
“Are you a soldier?” Snyder demanded.
Xander shook his head. “I'm a comfortador.”
Snyder leaned forward, contempt dripping from his tone. “You're neither,” he quietly snarled. “You're a whipping boy. Raised by mongrels and set on a sacrificial stone.”
Xander only nodded this time. -Bullshit... and yet completely utterly right.-
-“I'm getting a cramp.”
The door shook. Louder, more insistently. Feral growls came from behind it. Xander only looked at it, a mixture of fear and resignation coating his voice.
“That’s not the way out,” he whispered.
“What the hell is wrong with you!”
Xander realized who it was as he saw that all too familiar figure silhouetted in the doorway above. “You won't come upstairs?” his father continued. “What are you ... ashamed of us? Your mother's crying her guts out!”
“You don't understand,” Xander said quietly. He felt drained, suddenly. Drained of everything he was. All the life and the jubilance and the pure exuberance sucked away by something he could not name.
“No,” his father spat, stomping down the stairs. “You don't understand. The line ends here with us, and you're not gonna change that.”
Xander kept his eyes fixed downwards, unable to look into his father’s eyes.
“You haven't got the heart.”
Suddenly, Xander’s father shoved his hand into Xander’s chest. Xander looked down to see the hand covered with rags. Fear raced across his face as he looked up, and met with wild, feral eyes surrounded by grey skin and dark, stringy hair. The person growled.
The hand pulled Xander’s heart straight out of his chest.
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“I know you,” Giles looked into the distance as everything blurred. His voice came out as a whisper, and yet still, it echoed sullenly.
“Hey!”
Giles turned, and saw Spike standing near the edge of his crypt. “Come on!” Spike yelled again, gesturing “You're gonna miss everything!” With that, he turned and entered his home.
Giles entered the crypt bemusedly, noting the candlelight flickering on the walls, throwing into sharp relief Olivia sitting on a coffin next to a baby carriage lying on the side, sobbing.
“Don't push me around,” Giles said sharply. “You know I have a great deal to do.”
He saw in black and white a group of people with cameras, their attention obviously focused on the blond vampire, who was looking past them at Giles. He smiled cheerfully. “I've hired myself out as an attraction,” he grinned, striking a threatening pose. The people oohed and aahed, the cameras flashing.
Dimly, Giles could still hear Olivia crying in the background. “What, Sideshow freak?” he asked snidely.
Spike flipped up the collar of his coat, an aura of menace descending palpably on him. “Well, at least it's showbiz,” he shrugged as the crowd voiced their appreciation again. The flashes danced their way across his sculptured cheekbones, flashing against cerulean blue eyes that held amazing power.
Giles moved forward, bewilderment crossing his face as he looked between Spike and Olivia. “What am I supposed to do with all of this?”
“You gotta make up your mind, Rupes,” the vampire explained. “What are you wasting your time for?”
He posed again, and more cameras flashed, blinding Giles’ sensitive vision. “Haven't you figured it all out yet, with your enormous squishy frontal lobes?” he posed yet again.
Giles walked across the crypt. “I still think Buffy should have killed you.”
He watched in satisfaction as annoyance crossed the vampire’s face, and then headed out of the crypt, the sound of the cameras snapping merrily away behind him.
There was a sudden loud feedback as the microphone died and the band stopped playing. The last strands of music faded away, and confused, Giles got down on his knees and started following the microphone cord backstage. Carefully, he traced it to a large heap of tangled cord. Ferreting around in it, he pulled out his pocket watch on its chain, the shadows dancing across its metal as the hands ticked.
“Well, that was ... obvious,” muttered Giles.
The dark-haired creature who had been stalking them all was suddenly illuminated by a flash of lightning, a weapon in its hand.
Giles gasped. “I know who you are.”
It crept closer…
“And I can defeat you ... with my intellect. I ... can cripple you with my thoughts…”
The creature grabbed his hair and put the weapon against his forehead, and slowly started scalping him.
“Of course, you underestimate me. You couldn't know…”
Blood slowly ran down Giles’ face, dripping from his forehead and staining his glasses.
“You never had a Watcher…”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
How am I going for time? When you review, I post quicker. :) Thank you so much to my reviewers so far! I’m glad you like the story so far. I hope I’ve addressed any issues that you have with my story. If not, inform me, please! Chapter 10 is here, now. Well… Part I of it. Part II and III will be up soon, Promise! For now… enjoy! And Review! Please!)