After the conversation she'd had with Willow, Tara knew she just had to beg off from work for one more afternoon.
Faith's sudden appearance was a surprise, but oddly enough, Tara could take that in stride. Faith had been rude to her at the Bronze that one time, but hey, sticks and stones, right? Considering that it was only her feelings that got hurt in her only encounter with the infamous "rogue Slayer," Tara figured she'd gotten off easy. So the news that Faith was back and suddenly a good guy again (or at least so far) wasn't any big thing . . . except for her claim of having come back from the dead, of course.
The rest of it, though? Angel turning human, pre-destined coupledom coming to pass, and an apocalypse so mysterious even the Powers That Be couldn't tell them what was supposed to happen? Pretty outrageous, even by Hellmouth standards.
Her boss grumbled a little about the short notice, but Tara knew Dr. Meade was secretly glad that she was taking her time off during the quiet Spring Break period. Jane, who worked over in the Egyptian section, claimed that if you went up to the fourth floor, stood very still, and listened carefully, you could still hear the echoes of Dr. Meade's infuriated scream from when Doug Tobler had informed her he was taking his time off during Parents' Weekend.
It's a beautiful day for a miracle -- or two, Tara thought as she stepped outside. It was bright and sunny, with just a couple of small, puffy clouds. It was so nice that by the time she was halfway to Hannah's, she was humming a happy little tune.
* * *
"Great Green Mother of Us All!"
Lorne did his best to keep his voice down, given that he was hidden in a huge coat and trying not to attract attention -- it was full daylight, and they were still in the "good" part of town, which meant the sight of a green-skinned, red-horned demon would probably start a panic -- but his sudden exclamation still made Dawn and Willow jump in their seats.
"What-?" Willow glanced around, and saw her lover coming in the door. "Tara? You saw something?" She felt a cold chill of panic run down her spine as she turned back to Lorne. "Did you see something bad? Is someone gonna hurt my baby?"
"Hey, easy there, calm down, Pixieface," the Pylean reassured her. "Nothing's wrong -- that we didn't already know about, at least. Big evil coming, apocalyptic battle, hazy details, and so forth. It's just . . . " he stared almost reverently as Tara came up to the table to greet them. "I usually only get to read demons. I've never seen a human like you, Golden Girl. So much power . . . and so strong, too."
"Oh, no. I'm not all that powerful . . . or strong," Tara murmured, blushing.
Lorne shook his head. "You've got a lot more power than you think, girl; trust me, I can see it. And as for strong, I think you've got 'strong' mixed up with 'hard.' It's true, you could never be hard; you're a gentle person -- and it hurts sometimes. You're like a living, breathing version of that Threefold Rule you Wiccans believe in: Everytime you've had to hurt someone, it's hurt you even more."
Willow couldn't help flinching at that -- it shamed her to think it had hurt Tara more to leave her than it had hurt Willow to be left. But that also gave her a clue to what Lorne was going to say next.
"But that doesn't mean you're weak, Honeycakes. You're . . . " he paused, as if looking for the right word. "Grounded. You know who you are and where you stand, and that's a strength very few people have these days. God knows we could've used someone like you in La-La Land; your support could've done Old Broodypuss over there," he jerked his head toward Angel, still deep in conversation with Faith, "and his pals a world of good in the past year or so.
"Not that they're really 'weak' either, per se. More like . . . brittle," he commented with a grimace. "The Big Boss Men -- first Angel, then Wesley -- keep letting the darkness they're fighting against get to them, until they go off the deep end and do something majorly stupid. That would never happen to you, 'cause nothing really gets to you for long -- except your own self-doubt. If you could only learn to have as much faith in yourself as your friends have in you, you'd be a formidible woman."
"F-formidible? Me? Never," Tara protested, shaking her head vigorously.
Lorne smiled at her. "Look at it this way, Witchypoo. Everyone around here comes to you when they need a mommy. That's the kind of strength you have."
Willow and Dawn stared at him, then nodded simultaneously. "He's right, baby," Willow said. "When we need muscle, we look for Buffy, Spike, or even Dawn, now that she's been Called; when we need brains, we look for Giles -- or maybe me, if it's computer stuff -- but ever since Mrs. Summers passed away, if we need support, or love, of the mommy-ing kind . . . we look for you."
Her mouth pressed into a painful half-smile. "God knows you were there for Dawnie when no one else was."
Dawn bit her lip, unable to say anything, but she reached across the table to put her hand on Tara's arm and smiled at her.
Meanwhile, the blonde witch was blushing fiercely, unused to being the center of attention.
"So, Tara," Lorne began with a smile, recognizing her discomfort, and deciding to give her a break. "Willow tells me you read auras. Have you ever used a Tyfell crystal to enhance your Sight?"
Tara brightened at the opportunity to "talk shop" and change the subject. "Oh, I've never found one of those. Just a Doll's Eye that was my grandmother's, and a small amethyst that I use for . . . "
To Willow's surprise, by the time they all finished lunch, the two were chatting like they'd known each other for ages.
* * *
The group from Hannah's were found by a shaken- and mournful-looking Cordelia Chase on their way back to the Magic Box. But what Willow noticed, even more than the seer's expression, was that Cordelia -- whom Willow still thought of as a chatterbox -- didn't say a word as she insinuated herself next to Angel, and that he -- just as silently, and without even needing to look down at her -- put his arm around her in a comforting embrace.
That blew her mind. Not only the Cordy-not-speaking thing, but the perfect way she and Angel just fit together, without even trying. She'd had the chance, over the past few years, to see how relationships developed, and she knew how long it took to develop that kind of unspoken rapport. It had taken almost six months for her and Tara to have it, and their mind-to-mind contact while doing "spells and stuff" had sped that up a lot. Yeah, Buffy and Spike already had it, but they were kind of a special case. And some couples never seemed to develop it -- Xander and Anya, for example, always seemed to have to put things into words. Then again, they were both big with the talking, so maybe that was just the way their relationship worked.
If she'd seen Angel and Cordy do something like this yesterday, she'd've thought they were already longtime lovers. As it was, she guessed they'd had something like she and Xander had had . . . only this time, the "fluking" had gone in reverse.
That led to one of her little internal Psychology 101 debates: Is love without that kind of intimacy really love, or just infatuation? And is it possible to have that kind of intimacy -- to really know someone, heart and soul -- without loving them, in one way or another?
Willow was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she completely missed it when Cordelia did say something to Angel.
* * *
"He knew." Cordelia's statement was so quiet he almost didn't hear it.
"Knew -- oh." Angel's mouth tightened as he thought about that. It was ironic, feeling sympathy for Groo at the same time he was enjoying the feel of Groo's ex-girlfriend pressed up against his side. Then again, he'd been on the other side of this equation, so he knew precisely how Groo was feeling.
"I don't know what was worse -- the expression on his face while I was telling him, or the one while he told me he'd already been thinking of breaking up with me." She chuckled humorlessly. "Guess I'm not as good an actress as I thought I was, huh?"
She sniffled a little, and leaned against Angel a little harder. "I do love him, Angel. He's strong, and brave, and he gave up everything he's ever known to come find me. There's no way a girl can't appreciate that kind of thing.
"But . . . " She looked up at him, her eyes shining with more than just tears. "It's a good thing I'm not a cursed vampire . . . 'cause earlier, when you told me you loved me?" She smiled at him. "Sorry I couldn't come up with an 'I love you too,' instead of just 'Oh,' but, hey, moments of perfect happiness? Kind of a new thing for me."
He looked down at her, surprised not only by her statement, but by her openness. Even now, after years of working with her, there were places in her heart and mind into which she'd never let him see.
This was more than just, "I love you too." It was, "I trust you, completely."
He wasn't sure which meant more to him.
* * *
When they got to the Magic Box, Buffy and Spike were grinning mischievously at a groaning Xander and Gunn, who were rubbing their swollen bellies. Fred was still staring at Anya, the ex-demon having just told her about one particularly nasty vengeance wish that had involved boils, a mangy goat, and a tenpenny nail.
Giles was pacing impatiently near where Rachel sat, pale-faced, staring at a particular page of !Kannl's book of prophecy. "Would you just tell me what you've found?" they heard the Watcher grumbling.
"No," she said quietly. "Not till everyone's ready. If I have to say it more than once . . . "
"Is it bad, Rachel?" Dawn asked, stepping in front of the rest of the group.
The psychic looked up, startled, and gave her a worried look. "Not so much bad, as overwhelming. There's a lot here, and some of you are mentioned specifically . . . and I think I'm up to my neck in this thing myself!"
Giles stopped pacing and glanced at her in surprise.
Rachel, not noticing, went on, "And I'm going to need Faith's help, because she's the only one of us who can say who some of the people in this book are supposed to be."
"I'm not here as an interpreter, lady," the former Slayer growled. "But look around and count heads. You can figure it out."
Rachel blinked at her, and looked around the room. Her eyes widened suddenly as they settled on Giles . . . and then she promptly fainted. The Watcher barely caught her head before it banged into the research table.
"Sheesh," Faith muttered, shaking her head. "You'd think she just got some bad news . . . "
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