The Dark Rose

By darkmagickwillow

Copyright © May 2003

Chapter 6 (Face to Face)

As Tara walked through the graveyard, looking for the crypt where Willow had said to meet her, she paused a moment and looked up at the stars. Despite all her late nights, she rarely took time to look up at the glory of the night sky, and even tonight she was too distracted to appreciate it. She wondered again if she should be doing this. It was the first time that she had sought Willow out.

She continued walking, glancing from side to side at the names on the crypts which she'd never paid attention to before, as she thought about Willow. Whatever her reservations were about Willow, she had to balance them against the fact that Willow had saved them all yesterday. Tara hadn't mentioned that fact to Giles. He seemed to realize that she was hiding something, but from his comments he seemed to be worried about her using dark magic. She had quickly assured him that she would never use dark magic. She had learned too much of its dangers from her mother to even think about that.

What she had done was cast a spell with Willow.

That she had to do again. The sense of connection that they had shared was incredible. Perhaps they could try a spell tonight when there weren't any vampires to distract them. She liked patrolling with Spirit and felt a sense of accomplishment at keeping people safe, but she didn't feel the thrill of pursuit and battle that Spirit did. She would be happier if she didn't have to deal with vampires, but she had the power to stop them and that gave her a responsibility that she couldn't shirk.

Thinking about that, she felt guilty about telling Spirit that she had to leave early tonight, but they hadn't seen a single vampire on patrol. The events of yesterday must have dramatically reduced the vampire population of Sunnydale. It wasn't like she patrolled with Spirit every night either. She didn't have the vampire slayer's ability to survive on only a couple hours of sleep a night. There was no way that she could make it through university without getting a full night's sleep occasionally.

Finding herself walking through a dense cluster of crypts and mausoleums, Tara looked up to get her bearings and spotted Willow sitting on top of the crypt with her legs dangling over the side. Willow gave Tara a cheerful little wave that seemed surreal coming from the black cloaked figure. Willow's slender appearance and cheerful attitude made her look for a moment like an ordinary girl waiting for a friend.

Maybe that's exactly what she was, Tara thought hopefully. Not that Willow was ordinary. She was definitely extraordinary, but perhaps she was like Tara, an otherwise normal girl looking for a friend. Admittedly, Willow had a flair for the dramatic with her black leathers and cloak, whereas Tara was more into peasant blouses and long skirts, at least when she wasn't patrolling, but that didn't mean they were that different from each other.

Willow fidgeted nervously as she watched Tara come closer. She wasn't sure if she was ready for this. However, if they were really going to talk, she should let Tara see her face. It wasn't like Tara would recognize her no matter how much Willow wanted her to, but hiding her identity had become a deeply ingrained habit for Willow.

Tara wondered why Willow appeared nervous. She had seen Willow remain perfectly calm in dire situations which this situation clearly didn't qualify as. Could Willow be more apprehensive about this meeting than she was? Then all her thoughts were forgotten as Willow threw her hood back.

The cold brilliance of the half moon illuminated the beauty of her elfin features. In contrast to her porcelain skin, her red hair tumbled out of her hood like a river of fire as it fell to her waist in loose waves. Tara held her breath as she stood motionless, gazing up at Willow.

She knew that face.

She had seen it night after night in her dreams. Even though she couldn't see the green eyes that she knew were hidden behind Willow's sunglasses--why was she wearing sunglasses at night?--there could only be one conclusion.

Willow was the girl of her dreams.

Entranced, Tara stood perfectly still as she looked up at Willow. She was afraid to speak or move as if in doing so she would break the spell of the moment, causing her to awaken and find all of this a dream. Finally though, she had to expel the breath she was holding. As she consciously inhaled deeply, she had to accept in this essential rhythm of life that this was real. Willow was the girl from her dreams. She was real.

Cocking her head as she looked down at Tara, Willow regarded Tara's motionless form, her lips quirking into a tiny smile. She wasn't sure what the cause of Tara's hesitancy was, but she thought that she saw a glimpse of recognition in Tara's eyes. She had wished so many times to see some sign of recognition that she couldn't quite believe that she was seeing it now. As she looked searchingly into the deep blue sea of Tara's eyes, she felt her chest tighten as she wanted so strongly to have Tara back in her life. It was a desire so deep and intense that it made her bones ache with want.

With tremendous effort, Willow pushed her desires away and reminded herself to stay calm. She had to move slowly, like a person coaxing a bird to eat from her hand. Even if there was some recognition, Tara wasn't ready for the intensity of Willow's feelings for her. Willow had to move just as slowly as she had when the two of them had first come together.

Willow stood up and leaned precariously over the edge of the crypt, extending her arm in invitation.

Tara gave Willow a crooked smile as she took Willow's hand in hers, then gasped in surprise as Willow effortlessly pulled her to the top of the crypt. For just a moment, she found herself near Willow, close enough to kiss those soft lips if she dared. Then Willow stepped back and the moment was gone. They sat down beside each other, dangling their legs over the side of the marble building. There was an unspoken agreement between them not to mention that they were still holding hands.

As they sat together in the silence of the night, Tara kept giving Willow oblique glances. Every time she looked over, she saw the face from her dreams, but Willow certainly didn't dress like that girl. Not that how she dressed mattered to Tara, but why was she different? Why was she wearing sunglasses?

There was a sadness in Willow's face that hadn't been there in her dreams. Maybe they were a promise of the future, of what would happen once they were together. She wished that she could mention them to Willow, but she didn't know how Willow would react. Her story would sound strange to say the least. Once they were together like she hoped they would be, she could tell Willow safely.

"That spell was amazing, wasn't it?" Tara asked nervously. She gave Willow an awkward smile, wishing that she had found a better way to begin the conversation.

"It was," Willow said amiably, giving Tara a reassuring smile. It didn't matter how the conversation began, though Willow knew she had to be careful to steer Tara away from certain topics that she wasn't ready to discuss yet, like why she was in Sunnydale. "How long have you been practicing?"

"Always," Tara said. "I mean, since I um, was little, my mom used to ... she um." Tara furrowed her brow and paused a second before continuing. "She had a lot of power, like you." The pain of her loss was still there when she thought about her mother, but it was easier talking about her with Willow than it was with anyone else.

"You have a lot of power," Willow said, squeezing Tara's hand for emphasis. "I was there, remember? I felt it."

"Oh, I'm not," Tara said, ducking her head and letting her hair fall forward to hide her face. "I don't have much in the way of power really. I'm definitely nothing special."

"No, you are!" Willow said, her voice gentle but firm. As she said those words, she remembered hearing Tara say them to her so long ago and realized that she was now taking Tara's part in this conversation. The discussion had been going just like it had the night after they had first met, but now she found herself saying one of Tara's lines, not because she planned to, but because she had to. Tara was special and she should know that.

It seemed like she really was getting a second chance with Tara. This couldn't be a coincidence. The repetition of this conversation had to be a sign that they had a second chance at life and love together, even if she was the only one who realized that it was the second time.

Or was she? Was the repetition of their initial conversation a sign of Tara's memories of the past returning, of her soul surfacing to find Willow? She had read much about reincarnation since finding Tara again, but the books had given her more questions than answers.

"Well, I thought we made a pretty good team," Tara said, avoiding accepting or denying Willow's assertion. "Who taught you?" Tara asked, pushing her hair back.

"A friend," Willow answered after a short pause. She made an equivocal motion with her hand. "Well, I learned a lot from a few people," she said, not mentioning that Tara herself had been the most important of those people. Her other, later teachers weren't people she wanted to mention to Tara. "But mostly I learned from books. I'll have to show you my library sometime ... well, once it gets here."

"Oh, I'd love that," Tara said enthusiastically. Mr. Giles had many books, but she never got enough time to peruse them as he insisted on supervising her whenever she looked at the magic books. "Where do you live?"

Willow pointed one hand towards the other side of the cemetery. "Just across the street from the cemetery over there," she said. It was ironic living in Angel's old mansion, but if it had worked as a hideout for him, it should work for her too. She liked having so much space as well. She didn't want to see anyone in Sunnydale except for Tara. Who was there for her to see anyway? The members of the Scooby Gang had left town after Buffy's death, though Giles had returned even though there was no longer a Watcher's Council to send him.

"One of those big mansions?" Tara asked, her eyes wide with surprise. "Do you live with your parents?"

Willow gave a short humorless laugh at the thought of living with her parents, wherever they might be. "No, not with my parents," she said. "The houses there are actually quite cheap, being close to the cemetery."

"That makes sense in Sunnydale," Tara acknowledged. "But why did you laugh about living with your parents?"

"I only talked with my mother a couple of times in high school and I don't remember the last time I talked with my father," Willow said bitterly, surprised at how such old wounds could still hurt. Her knuckles whitened as she squeezed the hand that wasn't holding Tara's into a tight fist. "They probably haven't even noticed yet that I left home. I wish I'd had a mother like yours."

"I-" Tara began, wanting to comfort Willow, but as she thought about her mother the weight of that grief came crashing down on her with the force of a tidal wave. Her face crumpled and she bent over, hugging her arms around herself, straining to hold the ocean of grief inside. She wished so much to have her mother back. She'd even tried dark magic to bring her back. Her resistance shattered as she thought how she'd betrayed her mother's trust in doing that. Unable to hold back the tide of grief, she began sobbing raggedly.

Tara was surprised when she felt Willow pull her into her lap. She tried to move away, but Willow pulled her close with gentle insistence. Willow cradled her in her arms as she sobbed, whispering soft reassurances to her.

The sound of Tara's sobs wrenched Willow's heart. She couldn't bear to see Tara in such distress, yet there was little she could do other than hold her. No spell could heal this pain.

Surrendering her fears about how all this looked to Willow, Tara buried her face in Willow's cloak. In the safety of Willow's embrace, she released all the tears that she'd held back since her mother's death. She needed this so much. There been no one else to share them with until now. As she cried harder, she felt Willow's hand moving in gentle circles on her back. She couldn't hear what Willow was saying over her sobs, but the compassionate, reassuring, and even loving tones of her voice registered clearly.

She shivered with cold as she sobbed and felt Willow wrap her cloak around her in response, holding her even closer. It was so much more than Tara expected so soon, but it was precisely what she needed and wanted, this closeness.

As she protectively wrapped Tara in the soft folds of her cloak, Willow quickly surveyed the graveyard, watching for vampires. If anyone had been there to look at the fierce protectiveness of her face, they would have had no doubt of the depth of her feelings for Tara. She looked like a lioness guarding her only cub.

She pressed Tara's shivering form as close as she could to her body, trying to communicate the warmth inside her. Once Tara's shivering began to lessen, she tenderly brushed the tears away from her cheek and kissed her forehead.

Finally Tara ran out of tears, the ocean of grief drained for now. Her eyes were sore and red. She clung to Willow, exhausted, but warm and protected. Willow held her and softly rocked her, telling her over and over that it would be okay. Tara wished she could stay here forever.

Tara's body felt so right as Willow held her close. There was no awkwardness between them here, only need and compassion and the unspoken beginnings of love. Tara's soft weight in her arms was a gift she had almost lost hope of ever receiving again. She didn't want to ever let her go.

A long time after the she'd heard the last of Tara's sobs, Willow tenderly stroked her cheek and asked "Finished?"

Tara nodded reluctantly, unwilling to give up Willow's embrace so quickly.

"Want to talk about it?" Willow asked. When Tara didn't say anything immediately, Willow continued, "If you don't want to, I understand, but I-" She paused, her mouth drawn with sadness. "Well, I've lost someone very important to me too. I mean, it's different for everyone ..."

"I do want to talk about it," Tara interrupted, her voice hoarse from crying. She was surprised at the depths of sadness on Willow's face. Was that why Willow hid her face? Who had she lost?

"So tell me," Willow insisted gently, trying to distract Tara from Willow's own loss which would be so hard to explain to this young woman.

Tara told her about her mother, how she had first learned of her illness, how she had taken care of her at home, and how helpless she had felt when they had finally taken her to the hospital. She told Willow how guilty she'd felt going off to university, but her mother had insisted that she not wait. Then she talked about how devastated she had been when she had learned that her mother had died. Finally she told her about the funeral and how afterwards she started taking long walks at night to escape the feelings.

"That's how I met Spirit and through her Mr. Giles," Tara said. With a little smile she continued, "And then you. Maybe vampires aren't so bad after all."

"Maybe not," Willow agreed, smiling wryly at Tara. She looked up at the starry sky. The moon had set, leaving them alone with each other under the light of the stars. "It's getting late. Could I walk you home?"

"Of course," Tara whispered.

As they walked out of the graveyard, somehow her hand found Willow's again and clasped it. Willow didn't say anything, but Tara felt Willow's fingers interlace with hers.

Continued...