Another rainbow, another tingle. The second call was louder and more insistent. More needed to be done. There were preparations that still needed to be made.
She remembered the instructions from the Great Ones and smiled.
She was tired of waiting.
More Weirdness
Willow was confused. ‘Not that that’s news lately,’ she thought, ‘but Tara and Angel?’ There was something very different about this dream. Willow couldn’t hear them as she’d always heard Tara, despite seeing their lips move; also, they didn’t seem to know she was there. ‘What is this?’ She watched as they grabbed what looked like plastic grocery bags then suddenly found herself in a basement. ‘Buffy’s, I assume.’ A black and white cat came out from under one of the cots as Tara and Angel came down the stairs. Miss Kitty Fantastico? ‘But the crossbow accident . . . ’ Willow thought. Miss Kitty sat in front of Willow and stared at her. “Can you see me?” Willow asked, crouching down. In response, Miss Kitty meowed without sound or yawned, Willow couldn’t tell which. She then batted at Willow, her paw passing right through Willow’s knee. Tara walked over and, without even noticing Willow’s presence, picked up Miss Kitty. Tara carried Miss Kitty on one arm with the cat’s head and front paws over Tara’s shoulder. Miss Kitty stared at Willow and if a cat could look puzzled Miss Kitty Fantastico certainly did.
Willow awoke, still exhausted but not feeling quite so cotton candy brained. It was five am. Two more hours of sleep. 'Not much, but at least I should be able to function today,' she thought. She looked at Kennedy and felt a twinge of guilt. 'She really is wonderful and I will miss her. She’s a sweet girl, just not the right girl,' Willow thought as a wave of longing threatened to overtake her. Tara. It always came back to Tara.
Willow gently slid out of the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping slayer. She knew she was done sleeping for the morning and didn’t want to wake Kennedy. She walked into the bathroom and freshened up, replacing her pajamas with a pair of blue jeans and a fuzzy blue sweater with a bright yellow chicken on the front. She quietly padded out of the bathroom and through the bedroom, sneakers - found after a brief search - in hand, to greet the dawning of a new day. She walked down the hall to the stairs, sitting down on the top step to put her shoes on. Usually, she didn't bother with shoes but Xander had insisted that when she was walking in or around the construction area that she have something on her feet. Apparently, there were too many things to get hurt on. She didn't like shoes, preferring to feel the Earth's energy unfettered through her bare feet. Besides, since Tara's death, no one had been able to keep track of her shoes. She smiled as she thought of Tara's uncanny ability to always know where Willow had left her shoes.
Wandering downstairs and into the kitchen, she grabbed a muffin and a can of flip-top tuna before going outside. She walked through the construction and up a hill to her favorite spot beneath a tall ash tree. Sitting cross-legged on the ground, she opened the can of tuna and set it on the far side of the tree, out of view from the house windows. She ate the muffin and waited for daylight to break. As the sun started creeping over the horizon, Willow closed her eyes, hands resting on her knees with her palms up. She took several deep breaths to clear some of the cobwebs that still clouded her brain and began to pray:
“Theia, Daughter of Heaven and Earth
Mother of Helios, Eos and Selene
allow me to walk in your light
following the path of love, peace and humanity
Eos, Goddess of the Dawn,
hear my prayer
please watch over those that I love
wherever they may be
Hecate, Goddess of the Underworld
I pray to you for guidance at the coming crossroads
Please show me what I need to know
Theia, Eos, Hecate
I invoke you three
in order that I may make the right decisions
that my loved ones be protected
and that I may realize my true purpose
My obeisance to you all”
Willow opened her eyes and watched the sunrise, feeling more at peace than she had for more than a week. She still had much to think about – to puzzle through – but, in that moment, she knew the answers would be forthcoming when she needed them.
She watched the sun climb a little higher in the sky then stood up, puzzled that the cat hadn’t come to eat, and walked back toward the house. She wanted to talk to Giles about her early morning dream before Buffy woke up. She didn’t know if she should tell Buffy about the weirdness of Angel and Tara. ‘What was that all about?’ she wondered. As much good as the sleep had done, Willow was still so tired. Seeing Tara in every dream had reawakened the ache of longing Will had felt when Tara died. Kennedy had provided comfort. For awhile, anyway. But the dreams had brought the ache back with a vengeance. Every breath was painful, her legs were weak and it felt like losing Tara all over again. Relief was also part of the equation as she realized her feelings of vengeance hadn't returned. Her dark side wasn't re-emerging and she didn't feel like seeking revenge. It was pure grief now, complete and unrelenting.
As she walked back through the construction site, she saw Xander and headed toward him. She waited for him to finish with what he was writing, still in awe at the adult her childhood friend had become.
“Hey Will. You’re up early. Did you get any rest?” he asked.
“Some, “she replied. “I’m still really tired but some of the fog has lifted from my brain. I had another nightmare last night around two. Same thing, but . . . ” she trailed off, not sure if she should talk about Kennedy and uncertain what to say about the weirdness of the second dream. She decided to skip the Kennedy part since it really wasn't relevant and started in about the second dream. “I had a . . . a dream. Different from the others. Tara didn’t know I was there and Angel was there and they were, you know, talking and stuff but I couldn’t hear them, just see their lips move. Almost like I was watching through a window and they were in Buffy’s house and had groceries and they started downstairs but somehow I got there first and saw them walking down the stairs and the basement looked like Angel and Tara were living down there. There were two beds and some shelves of food and stuff and books were all over the place. Oh! And here’s the weird part . . . okay, so it’s all weird but . . . Miss Kitty Fantastico was there and I swear she could see me. She sat right in front of me and meowed. Well, she opened her mouth and it looked like a meow but it could have been a yawn but I think it was a meow. Then Tara picked her up and she hung over Tara’s shoulder looking at me. Then I woke up.” Willow finished talking and looked at Xander. “And well, I don’t know if I should tell Buffy or . . . so I was looking for Giles and I saw you first . . . ” she trailed off, knowing she was babbling and wondering if anything she had just said had made any kind of sense at all.
Xander looked at her. “Take a breath, Will. Wow. Okay. Well, we know two things: one, you had two more dreams, the first like all the rest, the second almost like you were watching a silent movie. Right?” Willow nodded, so Xander continued. “Second, we don’t know why it was different or why it would matter to Buffy one way or the other. So we find Giles and we start research mode to see if you’re cursed or bewitched or . . . ” Willow smiled and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Okay, maybe not the right word,” he relented, “but you know what I’m saying. Before we go looking for the weird, let’s rule out the less weird.”
“You’re right. Let’s go find Giles. Uh, if you can leave, that is?”
“Yeah. I just finished writing up the day’s assignments for the guys. They won’t be here until seven and I’ve got my cell phone if there’s a problem. I’m just overseeing. I don’t actually have to be here for the actual work part,” Xander tapped his eye-patch and smiled at her, “the guys get kind of nervous when they see me with actual tools; nail-guns, saws, yanno - dangery things. Oh, and hey, one of my guys caught that stray cat yesterday and took it to his sister at the coven on his way home last night.”
“Anna, right? Good. They’ve been wanting one to help keep the mouse population under control,” Willow said, smiling at him as they walked off toward the house in search of Giles. One mystery solved, anyway. She was relieved Xander had understood her ramblings and hoped Giles would be able to help.
They walked into the kitchen and found Giles and Dawn having breakfast, deeply engrossed in conversation. “No, I think you’re quite right. Alphabetical order with cross-referencing for related demons or demons sharing some of the same properties.” Giles looked up as Willow and Xander came into the kitchen. “Oh, hello, you two. Willow, you’re up early. Sleep alright? Feeling any better?” he asked, a note of concern in his voice.
“Yes, uh, fine,” Willow said, not sure if Dawn knew about the Taramares and not wanting to worry her if she didn't. There would be time later to fill her in on the situation if need be.
Dawn looked up from her breakfast and a look Willow couldn’t read went across her face. Standing abruptly, she dropped her breakfast dishes in the sink and turned to go. As she left she tossed back over her shoulder, “I’ll be in the library when you’re done Giles.”
Willow looked at Giles who was gaping after the youngest Summers. “What was that all about?” she asked.
“I don’t rightly know. She was perfectly alright a moment ago,” he responded.
Xander cleared his throat. Both Willow and Giles turned to look at him. “Uh . . . Dawn and I had a, uh, difference of opinion yesterday. I guess she’s still upset. But we have more pressing problems,” he said easily. It wasn't quite smooth enough, however, not to arouse Willow's suspicions.
“Oh? Such as?” Giles asked.
Willow looked at Xander for a moment. What could Xander and Dawn possibly have disagreed on badly enough for Dawn to be that angry? Dawn and Xander had been thick as thieves lately. She raised an eyebrow in question at him but he refused to meet her gaze, so she let it go and turned to Giles. She and Xander could talk later. She sat down and began filling Giles in on the events of the past couple of days.
“And you say you don’t think this is all a product of a guilty conscience?” Giles asked.
Willow shook her head. “No. I really don’t. I don’t feel guilty Giles. I’m sorry I hurt Kennedy but this . . . this is something different.”
Giles nodded. “A spell of some sort, perhaps?”
“That’s what I was thinking but who? Why? What kind? And . . . oh, wait, I didn’t tell you about last night, uh, this morning’s dream.” She told him about Angel and Tara and about Miss Kitty’s seeming perception of her. She also told him about her hesitancy to tell Buffy about it, but that Xander didn’t think it was that big a deal. Again, she felt that almost overwhelming longing. Talking about it just served to remind her of all she'd lost.
“Well, that is interesting. Tara, I can understand you dreaming of her. But Angel? No sense there. Although I quite agree with Xander, appalling as that sounds, there’s no reason not to tell Buffy,” Giles said thoughtfully.
“Tell Buffy what?” Buffy asked as she walked into the kitchen on the heels of Giles’ statement.
“I had another dream this morning,” Willow said as her friend got some orange juice from the refrigerator and popped a bagel into the toaster.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me? You told me about the others.” Buffy looked puzzled.
“This one was different.” For the third time that morning, she related the story of Tara and Angel and Miss Kitty. She watched as her friend fought back the tears. Angel had been presumed dead less than a month ago. Willow hurt for her friend. She knew the pain of losing someone you loved and how easily the wound was reopened with each fresh reminder.
“Okay, added weirdness. So what are we thinking?” Buffy asked, pulling herself together.
“Well, a spell or enchantment of some sort is the obvious answer. There are, however, more questions posed by that answer, I’m afraid,” Giles said, removing his glasses and cleaning them with his handkerchief.
Buffy nodded. “Okay, this needs to stop. It’s gone from an inconvenience for Will to an interesting puzzle to let’s-figure-out-what- the-hell-is-going-on. Something could be seriously wrong. If we were still in Sunnydale this would probably make some sort of weird sense. But we’re not and it doesn’t even make that. So what’s the plan?”
“Research, of course. We’ll check the library - see if there are any spells that do . . . well . . . whatever is being done to Willow. Willow, whilst we’re in the library, perhaps you should go to the coven and see if they have any information that may point us in a particular direction,” Giles said as he stood up. He rinsed his plate and put it in the dishwasher along with Dawn’s. Willow watched Xander. He looked scared? But why would he be scared of Dawn? As if he sensed her gaze, Xander looked at Willow. Clapping his hands together he said, with obviously fake enthusiasm, “Okay, research mode. Oh boy! It’s been so long, I wonder if I’ll remember how to pretend I’m actually looking at anything I understand.” He grinned his lopsided grin. “Willow, to the coven. The rest of us, the library calls.”
Willow watched their retreating backs and promised herself that she’d Sherlock out Xander’s problem once she’d solved her own. The feeling of peace she'd had earlier had been replaced with sadness and just a twinge of panic. Sighing deeply, she headed to the coven to, hopefully, get some answers.