Title: Darkening Of The Light
Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)
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: 13 (for now)
Genre: Crossover of DA/ BtVS
Type: WiP
Time line/ 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.
Distribution: Is under the discretion of the author, so please ask instead of taking please.
Reviews: While I may not always respond to reviews, they are always welcome!
Chapter Twenty
May 31st, 2021
7:48 p.m.
Seattle, WA
Fogle Towers, penthouse suite
“What are they talking about in there?” Logan sighed, his question more rhetorical than anything at this point. The two women, his cousin Buffy and her long ago friend, Tara Maclay had only been secreted away in Buffy's room in Logan's penthouse apartment for minutes at Alec's suggestion. But Alec and then Max's assurance that they would be able to hear the conversation turned out to be some what of an error.
The first time that Logan had asked what they were discussing, both transgenics had waved the question away, a look of concentration adorning each of their faces, twisting them slightly in different ways. Logan was used to the features of Max's face, scrunching up slightly, making her look, well, adorable in Logan's opinion. Alec on the other hand had looked... constipated, was the only word that Logan could come up with. And then, when some apparent frustration had marred that, he looked ticked off on top of the other.
Logan had asked again and then Alec had shrugged and looked to Max. Her eyes were wide and she shrugged back.
“Don't know,” Alec had finally grunted. “They're being pretty quiet.” In an effort to better hear the supposedly private conversation, Alec had moved closer to the hallway leading to Buffy's room. He'd casually leaned against the wall and the group fell silent again, waiting while Alec attempted once more to eavesdrop.
But alas, there was still just the garbled, gentle murmur of a conversation that was not focusable. Alec had continued moving further and further, stealthily down the hall way. His frustration grew until Max had snorted, despite herself. Both males looked at her and she looked a little sheepish.
“You don't uh, well, I was thinking,” she hesitated to explain, but then rushed on. “With what we saw in Sunnydale and that place that this Tara woman runs in LA, you don't suppose that she did something,” and here she couldn't seem to say what she wanted and inserted a gesture of wiggling the fingers of her right hand in the air, “so that we couldn't hear them?”
“Magic, you mean?” Alec blurted out, relieved that someone had said it first. What was it that that old wise guy had said in the pre pulse movie? We must strip away all the impossible until all that remains, however unlikely, is the possible. Just because it is unlikely does not make it wrong? Or at least something to that effect. And just because this magic gig, the real thing and not illusionist's distraction techniques, had only just recently popped up on their radars, did not make it an impossibility.
Max nodded and it was Logan's turn to scoff. Both transgenics turned their faces to him and gave him such a stare that he was shrinking beneath it and all too quickly he realized what their silence was telling him. Just because it was not something in his scope did not make it unreal. After all, they were here, a supposed impossibility. But they existed, and in some cases, thrived. How could they discount magic, especially given it's rich lore and history in spoken and written languages? Part of Logan's brain was telling him that he should research this, while the rest was scoffing at it all.
Pursing his lips, Alec seemed to recognize Logan's stubborn mindset and he pushed himself off the wall and moved purposefully to Buffy's closed bedroom door. He didn't make any pretense at quiet and once there, rapped sharply on the door. All conversation, still garbled to his ears and essentially indecipherable, halted and he took that as an invitation. He opened the door and two blond heads turned calmly towards him.
“Everything okay in here?” he asked perkily, betraying none of his frustration at his inability to hear them clearly. Both blonds smiled the same enigmatic smile after a quick glance at one another and it raised Alec's hackles slightly. They nodded towards him and he slowly moved his whole head in an approving manner. “Okay, need anything? Glass of water? Something to munch?”
As soon as he'd asked about the water, the differences in the room made themselves apparent to him and his eyes casually swept over the scene. But again, he didn't betray himself. He waited for their answer and as one, they both shook their heads in the negative. “Okay then, I'll let you get back to it.” He pulled the door firmly shut and with a self-satisfied grin, returned to the living room. He clapped his hands together and, pleased with himself, announced to the others, “well, they were burning something and there's some ashes in a glass of water. So they're planning on burning down the building, wrote something they didn't want anyone to see or they did a spell!”
Logan rolled his eyes warily at the suddenly exuberant youth, while Max contemplated the ideas presented to them. She huffed out a breath and then smirking, announced, “coolio!”
*****
“So...” Buffy began to ask of Tara, once Alec had popped his head in to check on them, but the question that had immediately rolled to the tip of her tongue was answered in and of itself when she spoke.
“It's okay,” Tara encouraged. “We can keep talking. Wh-what else w-would you like to know?”
Buffy inhaled sharp and deeply. What didn't she want to know? What was she ready to hear? There were so many things running around her mind, that beyond the thought and worry about Dawn, the overwhelming incessant need of Dawn, nothing had really seemed to register until Tara had brought it forward. She tried to calm her mind, focus on long forgotten rituals that Giles had once taught her- Giles! She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight the despair, the loneliness, the things she had admitted to her Watcher no longer, in the empty days before Glory had rained down destruction on their heads.
“Maybe,” she finally decided, and drew another shuddering breath. “Maybe you had better start at the beginning.”
“You mean a-after Glory?” Tara tried to clarify, looking a little uncomfortable herself. Buffy nodded slowly, chewing on her lower lip.
“Or- or maybe just, I don't know, like a band-aid,” she winced, thinking of what she was asking. “I mean, they kept telling me Dawn was dead, but I, I didn't believe. But Tara, you know...”
“I do honey,” Tara reached one hand to her old friend and just held it close, hovering over Buffy's shoulder, sensing that the girl was on the brink of some precipice and neither knew just how much it would take to push her over. “It's been so many years and we've had time to g-grieve and mourn and eventually move on. Could you handle that right now?” Her astute question made Buffy flinch. She knew very well that she couldn't. Not in whatever frame of mind that she had been in since she had.. woken up.
Dealing with her mother's loss had been catastrophic and with Dawn somewhere in the wind, Buffy was almost completely alone here in this beat down post apocalyptic version of her former life. But for one or two...
“This guy Logan,” she began and Tara nodded again, waiting for her to go on. “He's apparently my cousin, from my mom's side. I don't remember him, really. If I had to think about it? I think I vaguely remember him and Dawn teasing me and playing pranks on me. But it's hard to... to separate, before and after, you know?”
“Before and after what?” Tara asked curiously.
“Before I was called,” Buffy spoke softly, her gaze hazing over slightly and Tara frowned as she searched her friends face. “The first time, I mean. Since well, if the last Slayer...” She didn't have to continue. Tara's revelation that Buffy had actually understood when it was offered, that she and some other's had run into a Watcher, in Sunnydale and his explanation that he had lost his Slayer in the Cruciamentum... Well, with what Buffy remembered, what she knew, destiny still had it's grip firmly around her soul. Squeezing every last drop that it could wring from her. And while once, she would have fought back, she would have rushed headlong into her independence, the very essence of the Slayer to forge on and forge ahead and to fight at all costs, well now, Buffy was still so very weary. An age old, soul weary bone tiredness that was more an illness of spirit than of body.
Realizing that Tara was waiting for more of an explanation and silently thanking whatever beings responsible for the patience and serenity that her friend possessed, Buffy tried one more to focus.
“When I did that spell and found out the truth about Dawn, I could clearly separate the memories of her that were false, to the ones that were real,” Buffy explained. “To be able to track it back to the point when the monks did their spell.” Tara nodded and dropped her hand back to her lap now that Buffy had regained the energy to go on, surprised that her friend had not even noticed the strength that Tara had willingly given her. “Before I was called, when I was just a regular teenager, I could remember that clearly before, but now, there are just bits and pieces. I think,” she looked up into her friend's eyes and the pain she felt seemed as if it was translating itself to Tara, unspoken and unneeded in some part. But if Buffy knew she was to understand, to find a place in this world once more, then she needed what made her strong. She needed her family. Her real family and she knew that Tara would understand best. Buffy had once made a stand for Tara and she could only hope that this gentle woman would return the grace. “I don't feel very right,” she finally admitted on a cascade of tears erupting from her eyes.
She was instantly gathered up in Tara's embrace, stronger than what Buffy remembered it once to be. But then, maybe Tara had had to take the time to find her strengths as well.
“I'm here,” Tara spoke quietly into Buffy's hair, her words sure and strong, her stutter completely absent. “I can't make it all better, but I am here for you.”
They sat together that way for a very long time, each drawing from the other. Tara's strength to Buffy and Buffy's love to Tara. Neither was unaware nor did they feel the need to put an end to it. It was freely offered and taken with dignity until at last Buffy pulled away and began to dry her tears on the sleeve of her shirt.
“Do you remember,” she began with a tiny almost smile on her face that spoke more of things lost than happiness, “that you told me once that your Mom's death wasn't sudden, yet at the same time it was?”
“I remember,” Tara nodded, tears shindig in her own eyes. Buffy inhaled once more and straightened completely.
“I think I'm ready.”
*****
“So, how does someone go about researching magic spells?” Alec asked of Logan as they huddled around his bank of computers. Logan rolled his eyes slightly heavenward, silently asking for the patience to further deal with this impatient male transgenic. To find and remember the reason he hadn't asked Alec to let them be, now that Buffy seemed to be slightly moving forward. But he knew that he couldn't do that. For one, Max and Alec seemed to be a package deal still these days, even with Max's admission that Logan had misinterpreted the scene he'd almost interrupted in the street outside Max's apartment building. Secondly, it wasn't exactly his place to tear Alec away from Buffy, when his cousin was so clearly dependent on him in some ways. He guessed he ought to be thankful that Alec could deal with her and sort of interpret her moods for them. Not that Alec had made much more headway. Perhaps because, if what Logan suspected was true, Alec was busy immersing himself in his hedonistic lifestyle once more.
Logan felt only momentarily guilty as he tapped away at his keyboard. Alec had helped and he knew he should encourage that friendship between the two. But at the same time, his own shortcomings in more arena than one seemed glaringly obvious when matched up to the transgenic and it chafed at Logan. Even though he knew he had his own merits and laurels, these days it just did not seem enough.
He let out a small grunt of dissatisfaction as his Internet query once again brought up way too many possibilities. His grunt was echoed with a long suffering sigh from Max.
“Did either one of you ever think that instead of a general query, maybe you could just, I don't know, look at that Tara's web site?” she asked with an edge of sarcasm that was easy to recognize.
“Well gee Maxie,” Alec snarked back, twisting around from his position leaning over Logan's shoulder to glare at her, “that would be just perfect, wouldn't it, if we knew the site address.”
“Or we can just search for the commune, since we know the address and the name,” Logan offered, growing a little excited as he hadn't thought about that. But it did give him a direction in which to go.
“Or,” Max drawled heavily and both men paused to glance back at her. “You could just type in the address as it was, printed on the receipt that Alec got from that necklace he bought Buffy.” Both men gaped at her, for slightly different reasons. Logan, because he hadn't realized that bit of information and Alec because he knew Max was trying to get a dig in at him. “You remember, that really pretty one that she's wearing tonight?” Max grinned at her pseudo brother and he closed his mouth with a snap.
“And have you noticed the absence of other jewelry?” he rejoined politely, though Max knew it veiled his annoyance with her. It tended to be a pattern with them. “Something tells me that she doesn't really have a lot of it for some reason. What could that be? Oh yeah, she's been dead the last twenty years. I would guess that'd put a dent in any jewelry collecting hobby she might have had. Don't'cha think Logan?”
“Hmm?” Logan was trying to hide a smile. He hadn't even thought of it until Max had pointed it out, but Buffy had been wearing that little charm an awful lot. Nearly every day since Alec had bought it for her. “Oh, I was just wondering if either of you remembered the website?” he covered hastily, his fingers poised to type it in. Max obligingly rattled it off for him, since Alec gave a half-hearted shrug, not even bothering to look in his coat for the receipt. That could have been because he was wearing a different coat from what he had taken with him to California. Usually the simplest explanation was the correct one.
Logan tapped out the web address and after some time to load the website, the Lamia Portus Commune website appeared on the main screen. Max moved in closer so that she could read as well, though she was very careful not to get too close to Logan. Alec however, had no such compunction as he leaned over Logan to direct the mouse to a menu and clicked on a tab marked 'Mission Statement'.
Logan tcched in his throat, but made no other outcry. He wanted to slap at Alec's hand like one would a naughty child, but restrained himself, because Alec might be the type to smack back if he felt the admonition were unwarranted. And Logan had a strong feeling that Alec smacked a lot harder than he did.
The new page loaded and all three began to read. It essentially stated that the purpose of the commune was to provide a safe haven for Wiccan practitioners, new and old, to learn and work their craft. To harm none with their works. To educate those interested in learning and to try and break down the walls of ignorance and prejudice. It was actually pretty boilerplate stuff that Logan was familiar with. He quickly scrolled down to the bottom, having realized again that the other two had read through the offered material faster than he had. He pursed his lips as he read the quasi- blessing at the bottom of the page and then cocked his head as he read it aloud.
“'We supplicate ourselves before the powers that be, who have imbued the earth we treasure with the blessings of magic, that all that we may do, please them and keep us safe in their sight.',” he repeated. “Huh,” he murmured. “Powers that be?”
“Maybe what they call gods or goddesses?” Alec muttered. He glanced at the others. “Why do I have the impression that Wiccans prayed to a goddess?”
“Probably because you're slightly familiar with the movement from several decades earlier,” Max mused. “Apparently every female with a spice rack and a henna tattoo was a new age witch. They were all about moon cycles and dark stuff and growing things, I guess.”
“Where'd you learn that?” Alec demanded and Max shrugged.
“Cindy and I talked about that before. And Kendra too. Now that I think about it, Kendra's mom was into Wicca when Kendra was younger. Just a fad though, from the way Kendra talked about it,” she told them slowly.
Logan was nodding and Alec looked slightly lost, which Max seemed to realize.
“Kendra was my roommate before Cindy moved in,” she explained easily, saying no more than that. If there was anything else to be said about Kendra, it would have to do with sex and she didn't want to deal with a slutty Alec wanting to meet a slutty ex-roommate. Not that she looked down on Kendra for being overt with her sexuality. It was who she was and all that, but they had other things to deal with and they didn't need Alec distracted.
“She was quite a character,” Logan grinned up at Max. She returned the smile but then used one finger of her left hand to rub over her lips trying to encourage Logan to be quiet about the subject. He seemed to get the message when he turned back to the computer and brought the website back to the main page.
“Oh look,” he gestured to the screen, his tone perky, “this looks like a good one to start with. 'History of Witchcraft. Fact versus Fiction'.” Ignoring Alec's groan, he clicked on the tab provided and settled in for a bit of light reading while they waited for Buffy and her friend to finally emerge and hopefully answer a few questions for them.
Chapter Twenty-one
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