Tempus Fugit – Absolute Zero by LipKandy

Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox and minions. This story, original dialogue and characters belong to me. I have never and will never make a dime from these stories.
Distribution: The Mystic Muse http://mysticmuse.net
Feedback: Yes, please
Author's Note: This story takes place in the Tempus Fugit AU. If you haven't read S4 and S7 you may be a bit lost. And for those of you who have read them, this story takes up where S4 left off. If you remember, S7 Willow erased their first kiss and this is the two of them rewriting it. So, to refresh everyone's memories: after interrupting Tara's date with Rachel and learning (the hard way) that Tara is gay, Willow confessed her love, Tara didn't believe her, it was a disaster and there was no reconciliation. No first kiss at all because Willow didn't go back in time. It is now several days later and W/T haven't seen each other since that terrible night…
Note: so far, Tempus Fugit has only been slightly AU (until the end of the S7 version), but at this point, things will start to diverge from canon. There will still be some recognizable canonical landmarks, but as you know from reading the S7 version, things have to diverge pretty radically to make that future happen.
Playlist: (because I owe it all to the music) Sigur Ros "( )", Cat Power "Cross Bones Style", Coldplay "Yellow" (although Tara sings it as 'Willow'), Portishead "Wandering Star", The Yeah, Yeah, Yeah's "Mystery Girl", Folksongs for the Afterlife "So Glad", and Lipkandy "Leave the Sky"
Thanks to: Witchpunk my beta/editrix/muse; JewWitch, DarkMagicWillow and Tulipp for nudging me (directly and indirectly) back to writing this; and all the Kittens – you rock my world!
Pairing: Willow/Tara

Summary: Tara seeks help from Giles while Sunnydale endures an unexpected cold snap.

They had taken the heavy suitcase up to Willow's room in near silence, which was a very strange thing around Willow Rosenberg. It was making Tara nervous. She was never this quiet, which meant that there was a raging, rambling conversation going on in that too-quick brain of hers. Tara grimaced, wondering if she was doing well in the ongoing internal debate. Probably not. And if the furrowed frown on the girl's usually smiling face was any indication -- definitely not.

And now they were walking across the thick snow in the quad and things were still quiet. As they made their slow, unsteady progress across, Willow slipped on the accumulating snow and Tara reached out automatically to catch her, her arms wrapping in a rush around the girl's slim frame, bringing them face to face.

"I, um, sorry," the redhead mumbled, her eyes wide as she steadied herself in Tara's arms. "Guess these boots aren't made for walking…in snow, you know, or icy slippery stuff…which there is lots of…"

But Tara was lost in the face so close to hers, the pale skin and clouds of breath that mingled between their faces. Willow was so close.

She took a quick step back, releasing the redhead who wobbled slightly, a frown forming on her pixie face.

There was a long silence. Too long again and the blonde sneaked a glance up to find Willow biting her lip, her eyes roaming wildly over the snowy scene around her as if she were searching for something.

"I…you never told me how to make a snow angel," she said finally in a rush and Tara raised her head in surprise. "You know, 'cause I imagine lots of chiseling and maybe a blowtorch or even some magic…" the redhead rambled and Tara found she couldn't help but smile. Willow's curiosity, her need to know was one of the things she loved most about her, even if it did lead her to strange and over-complicated theories about something as simple as snow angels. Without speaking she walked over to a snowdrift and lowered herself to lie on her back, gesturing wordlessly for the surprised redhead to join her.

Willow looked around as if afraid they would be caught, but hesitantly joined her and Tara realized with a rush of panic that they were now lying on their backs side by side.

"It's r-really not that c-complicated," she managed softly and scooted a little farther away so she would have room. "It's a s-silly thing we used to do when we were k-kids. See, you j-just," she began to raise her arms in a high arc over the surface of the snow from her sides to above her head, moving her legs out in the same arcs. "L-like this, like swimming," she said and watched with a smile as the redhead began to tentatively move her arms and legs in the same way. After a few moments they were both flapping their arms and legs wildly and she heard an actual giggle escape the redhead.

"Th-that should be, um enough," she said and slowed the movements, scrambling ungracefully to her feet. She once again found herself in the awkward position of steadying the redhead and had to bite her lip to keep her emotions in check. Willow was still grinning like a kid as they both turned to study their handiwork.

The angels looked just like she remembered and she immediately turned her attention to the redhead who was studying them with her usual scrunched intensity. And confusion. Definitely confusion.

"I don't," she began before turning to Tara again. "I mean, am I not seeing something?"

"See," the blonde pointed at the arcs from her arms. "Those are the, the, um w-wings," she said and held her breath as understanding and more than a little disappointment swept over the redhead's features.

"Wh-what did you, um, think they would l-look like?" she asked and took another step back so she could study the redhead's features from a safe distance.

"Well," she began without taking her green eyes from the figures in the snow. "You said, angel, so I thought it would look, you know," her face scrunched again in concentration before she turned to face the blonde. "More like you."

"Oh," it was the blonde's turn to stare speechless as a sad smile crossed Willow's face. Her cheeks, nose and lips were bright red from the cold and snowflakes were caught in her eyelashes and hair. Tara thought she had never seen anything so beautiful in her life.

An icy gust of wind reminded her of the danger and the terrible reality of their situation. The spell. That was what was important, she tried to remind herself, but something in the back of her mind kept nudging her, insisting that this was important too.

And that seemed to trigger something inside her as a riot of sensual images filled her mind. Willow's smooth skin slipping under her mouth and fingers with gorgeous crimson heat and…

A sudden gasp brought her mind back to the blistering cold of the Quad and she realized that Willow was staring at her, her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide and Tara knew suddenly that the redhead had shared her dream or something like it.

They stood that way for long seconds before green eyes looked quickly away, pale features hunching into a frown.

"I, um…sorry," Tara said quietly, then wondered why she was apologizing. This could be important. The fact that she, Willow and even Buffy were having vivid, potentially prescient dreams had to be more than a coincidence. "Willow are you, I mean, h-have you been having the d-dreams too?"

The redhead whipped around with something that felt like anger and Tara took a step back. But it wasn't anger, she realized too late. It was a sort of desperate pain and grief. And maybe embarrassment because Willow's pale skin was now even more red.

Nodding, Willow wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, bringing Tara reluctantly out of her thoughts. The wind was picking up and the snow was thickening around them.

"But I'd rather not talk about it…right now, if that's okay," the redhead asked quietly and Tara noticed that her bottom lip was quivering, but she couldn't be sure if it was from the cold or something else.

"We should get you to my r-room," she stammered, looking quickly away and the two resumed their quiet progress over the white expanse that seemed to stretch forever between them and her dorm.

When they finally reached her room, Tara hurried to take off her wet boots and cross the small space to turn on the electric heater while Willow shivered by the door.

"Um, I-I d-don't think I c-can get m-my boots off," the redhead's teeth chattered as she looked down at her snow-encrusted boots.

Tara blew on her own bare hands and grabbed an afghan from her bed, which she quickly wrapped around the slender redhead's shaking frame before kneeling. The shoelaces were completely encrusted in ice, which hadn't even begun to melt in the still-frigid interior of the room. Blowing on her frozen hands again, she fumbled with the burning cold of the laces, finally managing to undo the meticulous double knots. Loosening them carefully she looked up at the redhead who was still shivering violently.

"Um, can you…" she began, but the startled look on Willow's face made her stop and swallow hard. "Your feet…," she tried again.

"Oh! S-s-sorry," the redhead exclaimed and quickly removed her feet from the now wet boots.

"And you should probably take off the, um, those wet socks," she said and turned to her closet as the redhead moved to sit on the edge of her bed. "I have a pair of slippers that should be, um, warm enough?"

When she turned back, Willow was still struggling, her hands shaking violently as she fumbled with the green and white striped socks.

"Here, let me," she said, placing the slippers next to the heater. She ducked quickly to strip the icy socks off the redhead's feet. Without even thinking, she held the freezing appendages between her hands, trying to transfer some warmth to them. When she was satisfied that the slippers were warm enough she carefully slipped them onto the pale feet and finally looked up. Willow was staring at her wide-eyed, her mouth open slightly as if in surprise.

Thinking she had once again stepped over that precarious line between them, Tara ducked her head quickly and whispered a quick apology. Once her face was obscured by her hair, she retreated to the space near the door to remove her coat. The room was growing warmer, but was still silent and she wondered about the uncharacteristic reticence from the redhead, but wasn't ready to chance a glance up, afraid of what she might find.

"You shouldn't be sorry for taking amazing care of me," Willow finally said quietly. "I mean, it's just that I'm not, you know, used to being the care-ee or whatever," she said and Tara looked up finally as green eyes darted away in embarrassment, her voice rising. "Not that I'm whining about it or feeling sorry for myself, it's just that, well, no one really has time with the slaying and new ex-demon girlfriends and I'm usually the one doing the caring for and the taking off of boots and here I was hoping to take care of you, but I go all Willow-sicle and can't even untie my own shoes and you have to take off your own…." Tara smiled at the return of Willow babble and stripped off her wet sweater, retrieving a replacement from a hook on the back of the door. "And what about you? I mean, you should have slippers on feet too. I shouldn't be all slipper hog. Maybe we could each take one and…"

"It's ok-kay, Willow," she smiled and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the still shivering redhead. "Wool socks," she said and extended a wool-clad foot.

"Oh." Willow said, her face scrunching up in that way that made Tara's stomach flutter. "but aren't they wet?"

"Oh," the redhead said again, still studying the wool socks. "I guess that's the kind of thing you know if you don't live in sunny Sunnydale. That and snow angels."

"Yeah, one of the only advantages of growing up on a f-farm in the, um, the middle of n-Nowhere, Colorado," Tara said and then grew silent, her smile fading as she thought about her upbringing and the terrible subject she had just broached without thinking.

Another long silence descended and she began picking at the carpet too afraid again to look up at those green eyes. Finally, she found the courage to say in a near-whisper, "You know, the, um, the t-trust thing…Willow, you can ask me anyth-thing."

"Why, I mean, what on earth would make a wonderful someone like you think they, meaning you, were a demon?" Tara looked up surprised at the directness of the question. She had expected another Willow-esque babbling evasion or at least a couple of times around the proverbial bush before they actually got down to the hard stuff. And this was definitely the hard stuff.

"Well," she began and adjusted her position on the floor slightly. "Th-that's sort of complicated, but I, um, I g-guess the short answer is that my…my father told me I was?" she said, but it came out as more of a question and was met with silence. "Since I was, um, f-five I think. That's when it, um it s-started." She looked up to find Willow studying her with that same curious intensity. Looking quickly away, she swallowed hard and tried to continue. "They, um, th-they told me it was only the, um, the w-women in the f-family and that they were h-helping me…us." She added quietly and looked at the floor. "My Mom and me."

"But…how could he…how could he think that?" Willow asked incredulous and Tara looked up, tears forming in her eyes. "'Cause Tara, believe me, I've had a lot, I mean, a lot of experience with demons and your are so far from being demon-y. How could anyone with even a quarter of a brain think that…"

"He's my Father," she said and looked down, sure that the redhead must be disgusted by now at her cowardice and stupidity.

"But he should have known…." Willow began and stopped, taking a deep breath above her and letting it out slowly. "Tara why didn't you come to me?" the redhead asked finally and she could hear the pain and sadness behind the words. "I could have told you right off the bat that you are so not a demon."

"Because that’s exactly what I didn’t want," she said with a sniffle and looked up to hold Willow's eyes. "I knew you'd want to h-help, that you wouldn't believe me and I needed to protect you until I knew the f-facts."

"But I'm good at finding the facts! I'm fact-finding, research girl," Willow yelped and Tara took a deep breath, lowering her head once again.

"I know and I'm s-so sorry. I just c-couldn't…until I knew everyth-thing. Until I knew wh-what to do."

"And what would you have done if you had found out you were something terrible," Willow said, a deep furrow forming between her eyes.

Tara held her gaze for long moments hoping she would understand, hoping she wouldn't have to say the words that hurt so much.

"You would have left me, right?" Willow said quietly, tears forming in her eyes. "Just like Oz. For my own good," she said and Tara shook her head slightly.

"I wouldn't have been a-able to leave you, Willow." The redhead stared at her for a moment in confusion, her features finally melting into shock and understanding.

"No, Tara," she shook her head wildly. "Don't ever…" she said and choked back a sob. "I don't care if you think you're a three-headed slug demon, don't ever…do that."

"I couldn't hurt anyone, Willow." Her voice was almost a whisper, slipping out of her like a dream. "Especially you."

They sat there for almost a minute in tense silence that was broken only by sniffles and the wind crashing against the flimsy windows that were obviously constructed for mild southern California winters. The snow was falling harder now, turning the dark night into a swirl of white.

"It's bad isn't it?" Willow asked and Tara thought for a moment that she was talking about the tension that remained between them, but the redhead was staring out the window at the wintry scene.

Tara nodded once and looked at the clock. 12:03. And tried desperately not to panic.

"Willow, I know we need to t-talk m-more, but it's getting late," she motioned to the clock and watched as green eyes went wide.

"Oh! What time is the, um, the…" the redhead began and couldn't seem to find the words.

"1:12" Tara said quietly, hoping to calm the mood. "I th-think we have, um, p-plenty of time for the spell." Turning she opened several drawers and pulled out the herbs they would need. "I just n-need to get my n-notes," she reached past Willow to turn back the comforter and retrieve a battered journal from under her pillow. She had kept meticulous notes about all of their spells. Not to mention all of the emotions and her growing feelings for her fellow witch.

"Tara?" Something about the squeaky tone of Willow's voice made the blonde stop her preparations and turn slowly. The redhead was still sitting on the bed, her body turned to the now-exposed bed sheets. The new deep red bed sheets she'd bought a week ago. Tara felt her face flame before she even made the connection. "Uh, when'dya get the nifty new sheets?" she asked finally with false cheeriness. Which meant that Willow had the same sexy dreams that always seemed to take place on deep red sheets. Exactly the same red sheets she'd bought days before the dreams began. The same red sheets that Willow was now staring at in disbelief.

"Um, I… there was th-this, um, s-sale a w-week ago at…" she began, but stopped, knowing she would never be able to complete the sentence because the redhead was now staring at her, her pale skin flushed with embarrassment. "You've had the dreams too?" It was more of a statement than a question and Willow's face became almost as deep red as the sheets.

Nodding wildly, the redhead looked down at her hands and went silent. Tara looked down as well at the journal in her hands and realized she'd turned inadvertently to exactly the right page. The details of fairy lights spell and all of its disappointment was spelled out in black ink. Her eyes fell almost immediately on a few words scribbled at the bottom: 'It's definitely not a crush anymore. I'm in love with Willow.'

"Giles said," Willow began quietly and then stopped, obviously unsure of herself. "Well, he said they were, uh, prescient. Is that what you think?"

Tara coughed once in surprise and clutched the journal tightly to her chest. "I, um, I d-don't really know."

"I've never had that kind of dream," Willow began then became flustered as she realized her slip. "I mean, you know, the premonition kind. That's Buffy's territory. Chosen One and all. Because, you know, I've had the sex kind before, but they were usually kind of strange and vampire-y except the one about Ms. Calendar…and you probably don't need to know all of this."

Tara looked down at the floor to avoid the redhead's embarrassment and nodded once. "They felt…like premonitions. I mean to me. I've had them before…prescient, um, d-dreams."

Willow nodded and Tara waited for the discussion to continue, glancing at the clock to ensure that they still had enough time.

"Well, is that something, I mean if you had a choice between them being prescient and them just being, you know, spicy dreams, I mean would you…well, would you want that…that? In the future. If there is a future," Willow glanced quickly at the red sheets and back at her hands.

It took Tara several moments to understand exactly what the redhead was asking and she felt her face burn again. Of course she wanted that with Willow, but was it even possible after everything she had done? She didn't even want to believe it was. In her experience, wanting things just brought heartache and grief. And the amount of want she had for Willow --and not just for the physical -- made it that much more impossible. And there was the other side of that prescient dream to consider. That dark-eyed demon Willow she wanted to avoid at all costs. Were they connected? Could she have one without the other?

A long-ago discussion with her grandmother came to mind and a small smile crept onto her face at the memory of those familiar gnarled hands smoothing away her tears.

"My, um, my grandmother told me that those d-dreams are really your future self telling you what could be."

Tara just nodded still smiling. "Or a wish." She looked up just as Willow looked away, blushing deeply. "B-but Gran said the future isn't set, that we're making it all the time. But, um, that there are certain futures we're more likely to end up in."

Nodding, Tara smiled. Willow's mind was always working on ten different levels at once, translating magic into physics and mathematics and back again. "She also said, um, that dreams like that are the way our future selves talk to us." She looked up to find green eyes studying her intently. "It's, um, like they're showing us these th-things to get us r-ready for what c-could happen."

"I don't know," Tara shook her head remembering the other dreams, the dark ones. "Did you have any other dreams that felt…real?" she asked and was surprised when Willow's forehead furrowed.

Nodding, the redhead simply looked down at her hands again, shrugging off the afghan. "I…they were terrible. You were murdered and dead in my arms," she began and the blonde thought she saw tears in her eyes. "And I'm so…upset. Okay, actually, if upset is a grain of sand, I'm, like, the entire Milky Way galaxy or all the dark energy in the universe, which is, like, a lot. I mean, it's like I'm possessed or something," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And I hurt people. People I care about." Her eyes were shining with tears as she looked to Tara for some sort of insight or confirmation.

She could only nod and look down as she took in the information. Dead. She'd been murdered. She would be murdered. If these were, in fact, prescient dreams Willow was having. That wasn't her dream though. She wasn't dead in her own dreams. But there was definitely the black-eyed power-mad Willow. Possessed. She shuddered at the word and looked back at the redhead who was still watching her carefully.

"I…I've had that dream too," she said quietly. "Your eyes and hair go black and you're so p-powerful…and angry."

There was another long silence and she felt Willow drop down off the bed to sit in front of her. She heard a deep intake of breath and felt the still-mittened hand clutch her own.

"I would never, you know, ever, like in any possible potential universe, hurt you. I mean, I just couldn't," Willow said and Tara looked up into those deep, brilliant eyes and felt a sad smile form on her own face in answer.

"I'm not worried for me, Willow. I'm worried for you," she squeezed the mittened hand, enjoying the roughness of the wool under fingers and looked deeply into green eyes.

Willow's face scrunched into what Tara recognized as surprise and contemplation. "Oh, but I hurt people. I hurt Buffy…" she began, but Tara interrupted gently.

"It's only a possibility, remember?" and that brought a half-smile. "But I'm worried because dark magicks…" she paused, unsure how to continue. Then she remembered her grandmother's words. "Once you open that door, it's almost impossible to close because you can always find a reason…." She trailed off with a shrug.

Willow was silent for a long time, her eyes staring intently at something on the rug, but her hand still held onto Tara's. "Is that why you're always warning me…you know, about using magic only when I absolutely have to?"

Tara just nodded and waited. She recognized this side of Willow. The redhead was working something out with that supercharged brain of hers. Think-y Willow was possibly the cutest thing she had ever seen, but she knew she couldn't smile. This was important. And Willow was almost there. She remembered with absolute clarity the moment she had finally understood her grandmother's warning. She was twelve and Donnie had punched her for some invisible infraction, sending her crashing to the floor. When she tried to regain her feet, he pushed her down again repeatedly until she had finally felt the rage well up. That was the moment she had almost reached for the darker magick. She had felt it there, the power. Could see Donnie's tear-stained face as she punished him with magic, made him feel the pain and humiliation he had inflicted on her for years.

It was only for a moment, a flash of power and cruelty that had terrified her. It felt ugly and infinite and she had gagged on the fury of it. That was the real demon, she realized only then and squeezed Willow's hand in hers for comfort, to remember where she was, far from that farm. When she looked up, Willow was smiling at her.

"So, I guess that's why you didn't just turn your Dad into a big, slimy frog," she shuddered at her own suggestion and Tara smiled in spite of herself.

"My, um, grandmother always said it took a lot of power to do big spells, but it took even more not to." She smiled again at the memory and felt her throat constrict as tears welled up in her eyes. Her grandmother had been the only safe place in her life. Until Willow.

"Your grandmother sounds pretty cool," the redhead said softly and Tara felt a gentle squeeze. With her free hand, Tara wiped clumsily at her eyes.

"Yeah, she was. She would have loved you," the blonde said, surprising herself, but Willow's smile broadened. "She had a thing for beautiful redheads. I think it runs in the family." She felt her face flush and was rewarded with an answering blush on Willow's cheeks and a brighter smile.

They sat for a few moments just smiling at each other until a strong gust of wind rattled the fragile window panes bringing them back to the harsh reality of the impending apocalypse.

"I guess, we should, um, get to the s-spell. I don't know how much time it's going to take," she said, squeezing the mittened hand once before letting go to retrieve the items they would need.

"Thirty-seven minutes," the redhead said in a matter-of-fact tone and the blonde stared at her in confusion. "I, um, thirty-seven minutes is how long it takes to do the spell," she said again, her voice squeaking slightly. Tara turned from the small bag of herbs she was preparing to follow the redhead's arm to a small notation in the margin. Still confused, she looked up and met green eyes, but only for a moment before Willow turned away in embarrassment. "It's just that sometimes, when I finish all my reading and copying my notes over and there's no one there because Buffy's slaying or with Riley, it helps if I can do something analytical. Plus, you know, someday it might actually come in handy," she turned to look at the clock which now read 12:24. "Like right now, 'cause, hello, this is cutting it kinda close."

Tara kneeled down in front of the still babbling redhead and put the final ingredients of the spell into place. "I think we'll make it. Besides," she said with a half-hearted smile. "The two could be totally unrelated….the spell and the cold, I mean," she said and went back to arranging the candles in a loose circle around them.

"Oh, yeah," the redhead said softly and shifted into a cross-legged position mirroring Tara's. "But, no. You said you had a feeling and Tara feelings are always right so…" she looked up and met the blonde's eyes with firm resolve. "I trust you."

"You do?" she said and her voice was so small, so fragile she didn't even recognize it for a moment. But Willow was smiling a sort of crooked smile as she nodded. Tara felt her throat tightening again around the tears that threatened to begin again. "I want you to know, that I was going to tell you and I n-never…I promise I'll never keep anything from you a-g-gain ,but…"

"I believe you," Willow said with a slight smile and she felt warm fingers entwine with her own, no fabric between them any longer. With a slight intake of breath at the electric surprise of the redhead's skin against hers, Tara looked up into those deep green eyes and swallowed against all the tears and adoration that threatened to overwhelm her. "So where do we start," the redhead asked cheerily and Tara almost laughed. It was so Willow to forgive and forget so easily. Her heart was so impossibly big and generous it made the blonde's breath catch again.

"I, um, think we already kinda did," she managed finally with a small chuckle of her own and was happy to see Willow's lips part and form a real smile.

She thought with a smile and a sigh. It would be so much nicer to just sit here with Willow enjoying the small fortress of warmth with each other and maybe even a first kiss. Because they hadn't even had that yet and those lips…. With a quick glance to the snow-filled dark outside she took a deep breath and readied herself to help her real life superhero save the world again.

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Tempus Fugit – Absolute Zero

by LipKandy

Copyright © 2003

Melissa@lipkandy.com