Doing the Right Thing

A/N this chapter is Taracentric.

Chapter Ten


The apartment was tiny, the attic above a garage, in a neighborhood of older homes. It was completely furnished, one large room with a bathroom. The furniture was old and a little shabby, but the bathroom had one of those deep claw footed tubs, plus a flexible shower head.. Very nice.

“Spike’s really good at decorating, and we have the muscle to get things up those steps. We’ll get it fixed up when the situation is over,” Buffy said in a perky voice.

“I ate a decorator once,” Spike said, with a sidelong glance at Buffy. Then they both giggled and did some cutesy PDA stuff.

Tara wasn’t sure what the ‘situation’ involved, other than a terrifying being named Angelus. She had been warned over and over not to leave her apartment after dark, and not to invite anyone into her apartment.

It was all very strange and unsettling.

Not that there had been much peace in her life since she had woken up, naked, in an alley in LA. A homeless lady, talking all kinds of crazy nonsense, had dressed her in ragged clothes from her cache of trash bags, and walked her to a soup kitchen. There Tara told a volunteer she couldn’t remember her name or her life, that she had woken up in an alley. She hadn’t mentioned she had woken naked, that was just too embarrassing.

She had ended up in the hospital, but she seemed perfectly healthy after a check up. A bed had been found for her in a crowded women’s shelter. After a few weeks there, where she had proved herself as helpful, moral and not addicted to any substance, someone had done the paperwork to get her a new identity and social security card, so she could get a job.

A job faire had come to town, with employers from out of state. She jumped at the chance to leave the city, with the crime and hopelessness she saw all around. She had ended up in the midwest, with a decent job, and plans to go to college.

Then Spike had arrived, and her life was once again in upheaval.

Well, she could still go to college. Really, meeting Spike and Buffy hadn’t caused that much disruption. Not at all.

Though she now knew magic was real. Just watching Buffy and Spike hold hands, with that freaky fire that didn’t burn–that was magic.

Seeing their joy, their love, that they were unable to hide in their faces, that was a type of magic, too.

I had that type of love, once. I know I did, or how else would I recognize it? I was once full of joy, once with the One.

But she couldn’t remember that love. Even after the memory restoration spell, she didn’t remember a love. She remembered her mother a little–there was love there. Buffy said her mother had died.

She had restless, uncomfortable memories about her father and brother. There were dark feelings there, feelings that made her whole body shiver, and Buffy had told her she was estranged from her father, and for good reason. Spike had snorted at the mention of her father, and would have said something rude but Buffy stopped him with an elbow to the gut. Then they had to kiss and make up and stuff.

I’ll have to ask Spike how he knows my father sometime. Maybe the next time we go out with Faith and the slayers. Then Buffy’s busy.

Faith and the slayers lived right down the street. Faith was just purely scary, Tara couldn’t think of a word to say in her presence. Some of the other slayers weren’t too scary, though, if you avoided the whole slaying topic. They had been really nice to her, giving her posters and candles and other knickknacks to make the apartment look more homey.

But it would be awhile before she could talk to Spike. Buffy and Spike had left town. Apparently Angelus had a son, and now that he was evil, he would go kill the boy, who was in college. And Apparently, Spike and Angelus were related somehow. It was all very confusing. When Angelus was good they called him Angel, and Buffy had once dated him, which still seemed to make Spike angry. But then, Spike had dated that vampire named Druscila, who Buffy said was an insane ho.

Tomorrow she would start looking for a job. One of the Slayer’s, Mindy, thought she could get a job at the coffee shop she worked in, where the tips were pretty good.

Tara had done some reading, and she was bored. She was used to working until eleven at night, and now she was stuck in this tiny apartment with nothing top do.

I’ll take a bubble bath. She ran the water and threw in some bath salts one of the slayers had given her, and then found one of the candles another had given her, along with a gas candle lighter. She lit it, and set it on the counter and slipped into the water.

The candle was pretty, ajar painted with flowers. It reminded her of something...she tried to relax, let the memory come, but it didn’t.

Why was it Spike got to return with all his memories, but she had not? True, she had been dead for a lot longer.

Tara made herself calm down. She stared at the candle and took in long, deep breaths. After awhile her eyelids began to droop, but not all the way, so she could see the flicker through her eyelashes.

“It’s extra flamey,” a girl’s voice chirped.

Tara’s felt such a mix of emotion–pain and joy at seeing her, deep sadness, resolve...
Heartbreak.

The candle was held in two slender hands. Pretty hands. Powerful hands. Hands Tara loved.

She looked up from the hands and saw a piquant face, a girl with huge eyes and cute, short red hair. The face of her love.

“Willow,” she whispered.