Title: Darkening Of The Light
Author: Restive Nature
Disclaimer: The characters and fictional placings of either of these shows do not belong to me. They belong to Cameron/ Eglee (Dark Angel), Joss Whedon (BtVS) and Whedon/ Greenwalt (AtS). Only the story belongs to me.
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Genre: Crossover of DA/ BtVS
Type: WiP
Timeline/ Spoilers: Post Season 5 for Buffy. Up to LAtR for DA. Story set in DA time.
Summary: BtVS/ DA crossover. Life brings about so many changes. Especially when one has just risen from the dead.
Chapter Eighteen
May 31st, 2021
3:30 p.m.
Seattle, WA
Bedouin Breakfast Motel
Tara slowly hung up the phone, nibbling at her lower lip as she stared at the unoffensive piece of machinery. She hadn't meant to stutter as she'd left the message for the elusive Mr. Cale. But since it had shown up, she was able to properly attribute it to nerves and the stress of the situation. She wasn't going to beat herself up about it. It was something that just happened.
"So no one was home?" Angel surmised softly from where he was sitting, perched on the end of one bed. He and Cordelia had heard Tara leave the message, so it was a moot question.
"Or they were unable to get to the phone in time," Tara smiled gently. But she wasn't going to get her hopes up that they'd be receiving a return call immediately. They might not get one back at all, but for the fact that Mr. Cale had sought her out. She glanced over at the unusually somber third member of their group. Cordelia had curled herself up in the room's only chair and at first Tara thought she was chewing on her thumbnail. But on closer inspection, she realized that the other woman was simply rubbing the tip of her nail against the contour of her lower lip, lost in thought. Tara turned back to Angel. "I think though, that if and when Mr. Cale calls back, and if we can set up a meeting, I..." she trailed off, unsure as to how Angel would take what it was she wanted to say.
"You what?" Angel waited, knowing how slowly Tara worked her way through things. Her mind was like a steel trap, nothing got past her. And she was quick, but long experience dealing with people and supernatural occurrences had taught her to consider what she said before she said it.
"I think that I should meet with Buffy, alone," Tara offered, ducking her head slightly, hoping that Angel wouldn't take offense. "And the reason for that, is that I've been... considering the situation. And-!"
"You mean the one where she suddenly popped up out of the ground twenty odd years after her supposed death?" Cordelia finally piped up, her tone slightly caustic. Both Angel and Tara spared her sympathetic glances, though Angel's was also tinged with a slight cast of annoyance.
"Yes," Tara nodded. "Her res-resurrection must have been traumatic enough," she spoke cajolingly, directing her words at Angel, knowing that he was the one she'd have to convince. "And to have been where she was and then brought back here where nothing is familiar, with people she doesn't know..."
"All the more reason to surround her with people she does know," Angel argued. "And it's not just that," he grunted in frustration, pushing up from the bed to begin pacing around the limited space the room offered. "I... know what Buffy's been through. I mean, hell, literally. You don't..." Even now after all these years, he was still reluctant to vocalize the horrors he'd endured when he'd been sent to a hell dimension through the portal that his evil alter ego had created through his blood and the demon Acathla. "Unless it happens to you," he continued, his voice tiny and strained, "you'll just never understand."
Both women's eyes followed him sympathetically. But Cordy leaned forward. "We know that Angel. But you need to step back and realize that this is not about you and what you suffered." Angel turned sharply to stare incredulously at her.
"I never said it was!"
"I know," Cordy stressed, dropping her hand to wrap around her updrawn knees. "But remember how you were when you got back here? Feral? Out of control?"
"And Buffy was the one that brought me back," Angel pointed out harshly, resuming his pacing.
"But that was you," Cordy stressed. "That was how you reacted. Just because that was what happened to you, doesn't mean that's what's happening to Buffy right now."
"Cordy's right," Tara broke in before things could escalate between the pair. "The situation has some similarities. But until we have more details, we need to move very carefully. We need to let Buffy tell us what she needs. We need to create safety and comfort so she can heal. And we need to not bombard her with all of us at once. That will just..."
"Overwhelm her," Angel concluded sadly. He knew that the women were right. But knowing that Buffy was alive, that she'd been through hell. Hell, Angel had spent three months in hell and it had been as a hundred years. What had Buffy endured in twenty? He nodded. As much as he didn't like the waiting, he was going to have to. He needed to smarten up and put Buffy's needs ahead of himself.
"I know you don't like this Angel," Cordy spoke up again, her voice soft, but what she was about to say next was cut off as the telephone in the room began to ring. All three occupants stopped to stare at it before Tara remembered herself and picked up the receiver.
"H-hello?" she answered and then pursed her lips as another hint of her uncertainty shone through loud and clear.
"Yes," a quiet, friendly, masculine voice spoke and she recognized it as Mr. Cale's from the message she'd heard on his answering machine. "Is Tara Maclay there?"
"Speaking," Tara answered a little more clearly, straightening up as a strange sensation akin to excitement rushed through her. "Mr. Cale?"
"Call me Logan, please," the cultured voice replied. "I didn't expect you to be in Seattle," he continued swiftly and Tara smiled.
"I didn't expect to be either," Tara told him honestly. "B-but when it comes to my friends, I'd go to the ends of the earth. How is she?" That questioned seem to throw the other man off guard. "I came into Lamia Portus just as you were leaving," she explained quickly. "I just couldn't catch up to you in time."
"Ah," Logan sighed. "She's doing about as well as can be expected," he hedged. "Given the... circumstances." He paused for a moment. "So, if you saw us, why didn't you call me back when we were in Los Angeles?"
"Because I doubted what I had seen," Tara continued in the vein of truth. "I w-wanted to... research the possibilities, before I acted."
"All right," Logan accepted that. He himself had a hard enough time dealing with the actual events that had brought his cousin back to him. "That's fair enough. But you're here now. What is it that you wanted to do?"
"I h-had h-hoped to see Buffy," Tara sighed. "If she's up to it, that is."
"All right," Logan sounded like he was smiling. "Just a moment." Tara heard the noise of the phone being muffled and an indistinct conversation going on behind that muffling. And then the crackle was gone and Logan's voice sounded in her ear again. "Buffy wants to see you. Would this evening work for you? Seven thirty?"
"Seven thirty would be wonderful," Tara spoke excitedly in her relief. "Where would you like to meet?"
"How about here?" Logan suggested immediately and Tara knew that this man was probably trying to keep control of a potentially volatile situation by keeping what was known as home court advantage. But she had no problem with that at all. She had meant what she said, her concern, their concern had to be Buffy, above all else.
"That would be fine," she conceded immediately, reaching for a pen and a scrap of paper from the night table that held Mr. Cale's telephone numbers. "Your address is?" He rattled it off and gave her some general instructions to get there. Tara thanked him and they hung up. She turned to Angel and Cordy, both waiting apprehensively. "We're meeting tonight," she relayed. "And he said that Buffy seems to be doing okay. About as well as can be expected."
Angel and Cordy exchanged concerned glances and Cordy spoke up first. "That might not mean much," she worried. "I mean, I'm sure this guy, what, her cousin?" Tara nodded. "He probably had no idea that Buffy was the Slayer. About what really goes on in this world, so he has no..."
"But I mean," Angel argued, "he would have said if there was really something out of the ordinary, wouldn't he? I mean, if Buffy were... acting like I did." They pondered the situation, all of them quiet and getting lost in their own thoughts. Seven thirty that evening couldn't come soon enough.
*****
"Hey man," Biggs greeted Alec as he strolled into Jam Pony later that afternoon. He'd just completed a run, not too awful far, but that was judging by transgenic standards. Alec, standing at his locker, readjusting something on his messenger bag, lifted his head at Bigg's voice and jerked his chin a little higher in greeting. "We on for Crash tonight?"
"Should be," Alec grinned back. He was looking forward to being able to sit down and relax with his friends. "Or, if you want, we could head over to the Cherry Bomb."
"Uh, not familiar with that one," Biggs chuckled, though he was certain he could easily figure it out.
"No?" Alec's eyes widened minutely and then he shook his head. "Ah man, have I ever been remiss in my duties as loyal friend and tour guide," he lamented teasingly. "You have not been properly inducted into Seattle life until you experience the TNT."
"The what?" Biggs' scoffed, knowing that Alec wasn't referring to the chemicals that made up the most widely known bomb.
"Tina, Nina and Treenie," Alec grinned wolfishly, catching the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Biggs' couldn't help but laugh along with him.
"Sounds like fun," he agreed. "Tonight?"
"Yeah," Alec nodded as he finished adjusting a strap. "I'll-!" whatever he had been about to say was cut off as his phone rang. "Oh, hang on," he grinned at his friend while he reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve his cell phone. He deflated just a little when he saw Logan's number flash across the screen. With a typical presentiment, he knew that whatever plans he'd just made were going to somehow fly out the window. Dropping the bag, he flipped open the phone and answered, even though he had debated doing the opposite in the nanosecond before. "Yeah Logan? What's up?"
"Alec," Logan sounded suspiciously agitated. "Have you seen Max?"
Alec rolled his eyes. First Normal, now Logan. "No I haven't. Not once today, but I've been pretty busy." He shook his head in a long-suffering way in the direction of his friend and Biggs nodded in understanding. He and Max had had more than a few chances to talk, what with her recent development of those runes that Biggs had peripherally helped out on. And from a few of Alec's short burst rants, he felt he knew the entire spectrum of that sputtering relationship. He nudged his friends elbow and Alec glanced at him.
'What?' Biggs mouthed at him.
Max,' Alec silently mouthed back. Biggs shook his head and tugged on his elbow. "Hang on a sec Logan."
Free to talk normally, Biggs was still fairly quiet. "I just saw her man," he informed his friend. "The batteries in her pager died. She was heading off to that little shop off E street to get some new ones. And I promised her I'd tell Normal. Be right back." That said, he headed of to do as promised, since their boss hadn't been at the desk when Biggs had first arrived back. It also gave Alec a moment to deal with whatever drama Logan had going on. Alec nodded and pulled the phone back up to his mouth.
"Hey, Logan," Alec grunted. "Biggs told me that her batteries died. I'm sure she'll hit you back once she replaces them."
"It's not just that Alec," Logan sighed. He figured that after he'd paged her three times, that dead batteries were probably the case, or that she hadn't been able to find a phone. "Look, that woman from LA called back." He heard the other male suck in a small breath.
"And?"
"It wasn't just some woman," Logan informed him quietly. "It was Buffy's friend Tara... Maclay"
"Oh man," Alec groaned, recognizing the name as one of the ones that the trio had seen in that freaky flashback right before he and Max had pulled Buffy from her grave. "Is Buffy aware..."
"She heard the message, yes," Logan confirmed softly. "And she wants to see Tara. Or at least she did. I'm not sure what to think now."
"What d'you mean?" Alec demanded. He could only imagine how weird this was for the poor girl. Especially seeing what a big gap there would be between the two women. Two decades of life for one and death for the other.
"After she told me to call Tara back," Logan told him, "she went into her room and she hasn't come out since."
"And that's different how?" Alec mumbled. The girl was still fundamentally uncommunicative and he could easily see how this would contribute to that state. Why didn't Logan see that?
"It's not," Logan sighed in agreement. "But the thing is, Tara knows about Buffy. She saw us when we were leaving. And when she told me that, I asked why she didn't get a hold of me immediately, she said that she had to check things out."
"You mean," Alec paused a moment, unsure how to frame his question.
"I mean," Logan continued quickly, "that I think we're all going to have a lot of questions for each other. Like what they thought they were doing twenty years ago. What the hell Willow was trying to pull off. How Buffy was resurrected now. Why was Max involved." Alec found himself nodding along. "And some of those are things I can't answer," Logan informed him flatly. "So I was wondering if you and Max could come over. Not only for back-up about what happened, but also maybe... moral support for Buffy?"
Alec's eyes drifted shut as he contemplated this. It was probably better for everyone involved to get this out in the open and dealt with. Most certainly better for Buffy. "Max I get," he spoke slowly. "But why me? Aside from helping pull her out, I didn't really do anything."
"Yeah," Logan sounded pained. "But for some reason Alec, Buffy... responds to you. I..." the other man paused, seeming frustrated to Alec. "I don't know why, but you seem to get through to her. And I really don't know what's going to happen tonight and I think... we might need you there Alec."
Alec suddenly understood where this was coming from. It was hard for Logan to admit that he couldn't be everything his family, his beloved cousin needed. And barring that, he was trying to make sure that he had safeties in place should she need them. Alec could get behind that, could fall in with that line of thinking. After all, wouldn't he do the same for his friends? "Got you man. I'll tell Max and we'll be there. What time?" He heard Logan blow out a sigh of relief.
"Would seven work?" he asked quickly. "Tara is supposed to be here at seven thirty."
"Seven's fine," Alec assured him.
*****
"It's almost time," Max announced, glancing at the mantle clock that Logan had set up on the credenza in the living room. She was perched at the end of the sofa, sitting on the arm rest instead of properly on the couch. Alec was leaning against the wall, seemingly bored, though like Max, he was cataloging every nuance that pervaded the stress-filled room. Logan was vacillating about whether or not he should offer beyond the liquid refreshment he'd prepared. Alec knew that if he wandered into the kitchen and peeked in the refrigerator, there'd probably be at least a cheese and cracker plate waiting to be whisked out.
"Has Buffy come out yet?" Logan called from the kitchen. Alec, his perch closest to the hallway down which Buffy's room was, glanced that way again, but the door remained stubbornly shut.
"Nope," he called back. "Want me to get her?" He heard something akin to a grunt and took it to mean the affirmative. Pushing away from the wall, he ambled down the hallway until he came to stop at her door. He knocked lightly and was taken off guard as it was immediately followed by the doorbell in the main room. He heard Logan moving swiftly to answer the summons and strained his ears to hear Buffy in her room. He tapped again. "Buffy, I think your friend is here," he informed her, his voice just loud enough to be heard. The latch clicked and inched open, but Alec saw no sign of Buffy. Wondering about how nervous and agitated she must be, Alec took that as an invitation and slid into the room, pushing the door shut behind him. "Hey," he greeted again. Buffy had come out of her room, long enough to see who had come when he and Max had arrived earlier, but had disappeared just as quickly as soon as Max and Alec had greeted her.
"Sh-she's here?" Buffy asked, her eyes wide and luminous with some emotion that Alec couldn't quite properly put name to. He turned his ear to the conversation out in the living room, and he could hear vaguely, with his finely tuned transgenic senses, where introductions were being made. But he couldn't come out and tell her that.
"Well, someone's here," he smiled gently. "And since it's time, I would assume that it's her. Are you ready to go out and see her?" He watched as she stood slowly.
He could see that she was trembling, though whether from nerves or excitement, he wasn't sure. He waited, but she made no other movement but to smooth her clothes down. "You look good tonight, you know," he complimented, saying the first thing that popped into his mind, hoping to at least distract her a little bit. He grinned when she glanced down at herself. "That green sweater really brings out your eyes." And that was the truth. He figured that must have been the sweater that Original Cindy had been nattering on about. Paired with the black jeans that Buffy was wearing, she really did look much better than she had in the last few weeks.
"It does?" she questioned softly. Alec smiled gently and nodded, holding out one hand to her. Hesitantly, she stepped towards him, sliding her own, much tinier hand into his. Her grip was tight, though he could still feel mild tremors racing through her body through the extension. He tried to keep a reassuring smile on his lips, but a infinitesimal disquiet shot through his mind and settled in his chest. When was the last time a girl had looked up at him like that? With wide, nervous eyes, full of question and hope. Knowing the painful answer, Alec immediately shut down that line of thought. Buffy wasn't Rachel and he would do well to remember that. This night was about helping Buffy through her walk down memory lane. Not his.
"Okay," he forced himself to speak lightly. "Ready to face the lion's den?"
"No," she shook her head, but he caught the hint of a smile on her lips. "But let's go anyway."
Alec opened the door and as he stepped out, he felt her hand grip his tightly again, as if she were afraid that he was going to let go or get away from her. He squeezed back a little, to reassure her that he wouldn't let go until she was ready. She followed after him, having no other choice. Their footsteps echoed slightly on the wooden floorboards of Logan's penthouse suite. Alec realized that conversation in the living room had halted once they'd made their presence coming out of Buffy's room, known. As they moved into the living room, he realized from his arm being slightly twisted behind his back, that Buffy was hiding behind him. As quickly as he'd been taught in his former life, he cataloged everything he could about the stranger in their midst before stepping aside to reveal the girl of the hour.
The woman, Tara Maclay, was a lovely looking woman, in her early forties. She was blond and her figure not as slim as it might have once been. But her face was kind and Alec had the impression that she was the earthy motherly type. Tara seemed to understand Buffy's hesitancy and maybe even share in it herself. There was quiet all around the room as they waited for one or the other woman to make the first move. And it was finally Tara herself who took it. She moved forward several small steps and then held out her arms to Buffy.
Alec felt the tremors increase in the smaller blond woman before she too stepped forward and into Tara's embrace. But she still didn't let go of Alec. The two women stood like that for several minutes. Buffy, the shorter of them, by several inches turned her face to press against Tara's shoulder, her free arm wrapping around Tara's waist. Tara had wrapped both arms around Buffy's shoulder's though one hand came up to wipe at the tears that were suddenly coursing down her face.
"Oh Buffy," she whispered, one hand coming up to stroke at her friend's hair. "I'm sorry. I'm so s-sorry." Those words seemed to break the silence that Buffy displayed.
"Sorry?" she asked softly as she pulled back. "For-!" But then she realized what her old friend meant. "You... know?"
Tara nodded slowly, biting at her lower lip before she said, "I sensed it the moment I walked into the Hyperion. Y-you and Faith. I always knew, could s-sense it. A-and again when we w-went to Sunnydale."
"You went to Sunnydale?" Buffy questioned, and Alec could feel the tremors increase, echoing in her voice now. He exchanged worried glances with Logan and Max. Buffy had never spoken of what had occurred there when they had gotten her out of the grave and they, unsure how to broach the subject, had waited for... something, they just didn't know what.
Tara nodded. "We m-met a man there. Pietr Voskovic. I th-think, what he t-told us, just confirmed it. And n-now, seeing you h-here."
The shaking in Buffy's limbs stopped dead cold and Alec puzzled over what some stranger had to say that would affect Buffy so suddenly and deeply. He also wondered, as he was sure Max and Logan were doing, what the hell this little bit of theirs, saying but not saying, really was about. "Who was he? What did he say?" Buffy asked, her voice void of emotion, even more so than before and Alec felt as if the entire room had been instantly coated with ice.
Tara was chewing on her lip again and glanced up quickly at Alec, her eyes wide with apprehension. Like she didn't want to talk about this in front of strangers. But they really weren't giving her much of a choice. "H-he, worked at the same museum that G-giles used to work at," she finally told her old friend. "B-but then, he had to go back to Russia, to take over c-custody of a g-girl."
"And?" Buffy prompted in what seemed an awed tone to Alec.
"Sh-she died," Tara blurted out, her face fixed on Buffy's features. "On the twenty second this month." There were more glances exchanged over Buffy and Tara's heads. That fateful day. It had been midnight that night, going into the twenty-third, when Buffy had come back to them. How was all this relevant? "I-it was," Tara continued slowly, holding Buffy's eyes steadily. "Tania's eighteenth birthday."
There was a second between that announcement and a sudden crushing pain in Alec's hand. He winced at the sudden fury Buffy's tension played out, though there was little emotion showing in the rest of her, until she shook her head slightly. "No," she cried out, shaking her head again. "I can't go through this again."
And still, these code words had little meaning or sense to those not used to it.
Chapter Nineteen
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