First Position
by Goddess D

* * * * * * * * * * 
First Position: Ace of Spears 
"Beginning a new venture. Reversed: A breakdown in communications." 
* * * * * * * * * * 

"Sometimes it bothers me a little." Willow's voice floated down from the bed. 

Tara gave up in her attempt to keep Miss Kitty from walking over the cards spread on the floor and turned to see green eyes
peeping over the edge of the bed. "What bothers you?" 

Willow flopped back on the bed and didn't answer right away. Tara allowed her the time she needed to formulate her answer
and studied the cards in front of her. Cards that were not in their original positions anymore. She sighed and began
gathering them together. As she reshuffled the deck, she heard the amused voice above her. 

"Are you going to keep at that all night?" 

"I just want to learn to do it right," Tara murmured. She turned again to see Willow sitting up now, knees pulled to her
chest. Smiling at her favorite person, she clarified, "I want to do my first real reading on you and I want to do it
right." 

Willow returned the smile. "You do everything right. Do you like the cards?" At this she leaned over the bed and ran a
finger down the picture on the face of the one in Tara's hand. "I almost got you a traditional deck, but these just spoke
to me and said you'd love them. You do love them, don't you?" 

Tara looked at the picture Willow's slim finger was tracing on the Tarot card. In it, a nude woman danced with abandon
around Stonehenge, filmy veils wafting behind her. The heading on the card read "The Universe." She remembered from her
reading that this card had something to do with accomplishment. Her eyes followed that finger as it flowed with the veils,
curling around the carvings on a stone. She realized that a question had been asked in a worried tone and dragged her gaze
away from the artistry of her girlfriend's hand, to the art on the card, to the question itself. She turned toward Willow
and nuzzled her cheek. "Love them, love you." Tara sighed. "They're perfect." 

"I'm not sure what it was," Willow's relieved voice answered. "The pictures were so ethereal and that blend of ...magic and
tradition from King Arthur made me think of you." 

"When I was little, I always dreamt of being one of those Lady-in-Waiting types." 

"Not a Princess?" Willow pulled away enough to look at Tara in surprise. 

"No," Tara frowned, and then brightened at Willow's concerned expression. "Too much responsibility." 

Willow laughed. "I see you more as one of those Priestesses, you know? Helping Kingdoms with magic spells," she finished
with a grin. 

"Morgan Le Fay?" 

Playful expression turning tender, Willow smoothed Tara's hair. "No. More like Nimue, all dancing in the forest, where no
one can see you, but anyone who does is...enchanted." Tara felt Willow rest a cheek on the top of her head and wished that
warmth would never leave, but too soon, it did. "No more Tarot tonight. I want snuggles." At Tara's quiet laugh, she laid
back down on the bed. 

"Are we even going to discuss whatever it is that sometimes bothers you?" Tara turned out the light and climbed into bed
next to her Willow. 

"Tomorrow. Snuggle now." 

As Tara surrounded the girl she loved beyond all imagining with her warmth she heard a breathy sigh that sounded
suspiciously like the word "Enchantress." 

* * * * * * * * * * 

She was dancing. Whirling, twirling, and her heart pounding so hard, but she couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop until the figure
with the crystalline green eyes hiding in the bushes came out. But she wouldn't come out, wouldn't stop her, wouldn't speak
to her because the dance wasn't graceful enough. *PleasePleasePlease. Am I doing this right?* Knowing the girl in the
shadows wouldn't hold her, love her, touch her until she did it right. And, sobbing, she continued to twirl and spin,
praying to whoever would listen that she wouldn't trip over her own feet. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

Research party. Tara knew that only in Sunnydale would those two words be connected. Of course, she, Giles and Willow were
the only ones doing any research. Xander was flipping pages while arguing in quiet tones with Anya, and Buffy and Riley
were patrolling. Tara was most glad of that last fact. Not that she didn't like Willow's friend. Buffy was, well,
friendly, but also a little overwhelming in her power and confidence. Tara always felt weird around Buffy, like it was okay
for her to be there because she was with Willow, but that was the only reason. Tara knew she didn't belong in the "Scooby
Gang," but she was finally starting to believe she might belong with Willow. And these were Willow's friends, so she would
do whatever she could to fit in. Right now that meant research parties. 

Tara returned her attention to the book she was perusing, trying not to hear the tense voices from across the room. She
liked Xander. He was the only one that didn't make her feel strange at all. In fact, he had spent a good deal of time in
the last few weeks hanging out with her and Willow, which might be why he and his girlfriend were fighting right now. He
had even asked if she would do a Tarot reading on him one day. Tara was very curious as to what she would find. Looking
over at the pair now brought to mind a line from one of her favorite authors in high school. 

"Love is a dangerous angel," she murmured, flipping another page. 

"What? What was that, Tara? Did you find something?" Giles walked over to where she was sitting on the couch. 

Tara stared down at the heavy book in her lap and tried not to sigh. It was bad enough everyone looked at her and instantly
thought "Willow's Girlfriend," now she had to compound things by spouting out obscure lines that no one understood. Weird
looks all around. She took a deep breath. 

"Um, no, Mr. Giles. I was just sounding out the name of this demon." She randomly placed her finger on the page. 

Giles peered over her shoulder. "Fragat?" 

If everyone weren't staring at her, she'd slap her hand on her forehead. "Oh. I w-was wondering which syllable was
emphasized." *Quickly. Look down at the book quickly, before they see you blush.* 

Xander, who had also wandered over, looked at the picture of said demon. "Is that slime? 'Cause nobody said anything about
there being slime involved. I have taken a definite vacation from slime this summer." 

"It's ...not the one we're looking for, Xander. No need to worry about dirtying your clothes, such as they are," Giles
answered, already heading back to his books. 

"Oh, well, in that case," he turned and smiled at Tara, "Fragat about it." 

Tara laughed while Willow groaned, "Xander!" and Giles muttered, "Oh dear." and Anya ignored them all. Yes, she definitely
liked Xander best. Well, after Willow, that is. 

Instead of returning to his girlfriend, Xander went to stand by Willow at the bookcase. He looked over her shoulder at the
book in her hands. She jumped away from him, curving her shoulders around the book, which had closed with a thwap sound
that only large, old books can make. Tara wondered what she was up to. Willow had been preoccupied all day, nose down in
various texts and avoiding involved conversation. They never had discussed what had been bothering her last night. 

When Willow sat beside her on the couch, Tara snuck a peek at the book and was surprised to see it was an old Gaelic-English
lexicon. They weren't looking for information on a Gaelic-speaking demon. She threw a puzzled look at her girlfriend, but
only received an enigmatic smile in return. *Wait. Willow doesn't do enigmatic.* She leaned into Willow and whispered,
"What are you doing?" 

"Research. That's what we're doing, isn't it? Researching." Willow's voice sounded over-loud in the quiet of the room. 

Tara shook her head and leaned over again. She paused to briefly inhale the sweetness of Willow's hair before clarifying. 
"I meant, I can help you with that. Whatever it is." 

Willow's eyes widened and she pointed at a Gaelic word written on a slip of paper in her lap, raising her eyebrows. Tara
nodded. 

She remembered what she'd read, if not the name of the paper, that extrapolated that the earliest spells translated into
English had come from the Gaelic and Eirse languages. Then she had to know. Had to see for herself if those spells were
actually the same. Secretly reading in her bedroom, books borrowed from out-of-state libraries, flashlight under the covers
so no one would know what she was doing. 

Now she didn't have to hide under the covers. Didn't have to hide that part of herself. Now she could help Willow,
something she loved doing more than anything. When she helped Willow, it didn't matter that sometimes she said things
others thought strange. Willow never looked at her like she was a dork. In fact, now Willow was looking at her with
admiration, and Tara liked that look. Even if it did make her a little uncomfortable. 

"When we get home, okay?" Willow was asking in a soft voice. And Tara nodded, because home was Willow and her and what was
now their secret. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

"So do you think Xander and Anya are going to break up? They've been fighting a lot lately," Willow called from the bed
where she was combing out her just-washed hair. "And he has been hanging with us more and more. But not like he's been
avoiding her. More like...he's just wanted to hang out with us." 

Tara looked up from the book on the desk and shrugged. A thought occurred to her. "Does Mr. Giles know you have this?" 

"You know, you can call him Giles, like the rest of us. Just don't call him G-Man. That makes him all flustery." She came
over to the desk and bent over Tara's shoulder. "And he doesn't technically know I have this book, but he let's me borrow
anything. Well, almost anything. So I kind of have his permission by proxy." 

"This is a very powerful book of spells," Tara explained. "Some of these could be dangerous. I think he'd want to know we
were reading this." 

"Not reading! Not reading, just looking for one spell. The rest of the book can," Willow snapped her fingers, "Poof! Just
disappear." 

Tara glanced down quickly, just to make sure the book hadn't actually vanished. Willow had the tendency not to know the
limits of her own powers, which is what worried Tara in this case. The spell in question seemed simple enough, but her
knowledge of Gaelic had diminished over time. Some of the other spells she had peeked at looked a little ominous and she
wanted the tome back at Mr. Giles' as soon as possible. 

"We're going to need a red lodestone. And I'll write down the cleansing herbs we'll need. We can go to the Magic Box
tomorrow and get them." She smiled as Willow gave her shoulders a grateful squeeze. "Why are we doing this?" 

"Because they're always fighting and I think we could get so much more done if they would, you know, protect each other." 

"Who?" Tara turned in her chair to face Willow. 

"Buffy and Spike." 

"You want to place a guardianship spell on Buffy and Spike?" This was a direction she had not expected. "You realize
they're not going to let you do this. They don't want to protect each other. They want each other dead." 

"See, that's why I have this book. I found out that this grimoire contains the most successful non-invasive binding
spells." Willow's eyes were pleading with her. 

"Willow, you can't-" Tara sighed and stood, pulling her girlfriend into her arms. 

"They don't have to like each other." Willow's voice was muffled from its position in Tara's neck. "I just want them to
work together and not try to make the other so dead all the time." 

"You have the best heart, Willow Rosenberg," Tara whispered in her ear. 

Willow pulled away and tugged Tara toward the bed. "Spike's defenseless against humans and, well, that's just sad. And
Buffy could always use someone with vamp powers watching her back. I really think this will work." 

Tara laid herself on the bed with her head in Willow's lap. She gazed at the face of the girl above her and remembered how
lucky she was. "We'll make it work together," she promised. Then she lifted her head and pulled that face closer to her
own. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

She was running. Running harder and faster than she ever thought she could. Running through the trees. Her heart was
pounding and her feet were catching fallen branches on the forest floor. Tiny twigs snapped and scraped the bare soles of
her feet, but she couldn't stop; wouldn't stop because something was chasing her. She couldn't even turn around to see what
it was as that would only slow her down, make her vulnerable to the thing that wanted to catch her. The towering trunks
gave way to a clearing in which fat gray stones stood in a circle. A nude woman with filmy veils of silk danced around the
stones, weaving herself in figure eights around and around each stone. The carvings on the stones looked familiar, but
couldn't be read in the half-moon darkness of the night. The dancer continued past her, unembarrassed about her nudity,
allowing scarves to trail behind her, transparent dragonfly wings. She shouldn't have stopped. Shouldn't have stopped
because something was chasing her, but she couldn't move. Transfixed by the words she couldn't read on the stones, by the
woman singing a silent song, by the mist-shrouded moon that made the clearing glow. Her calves ached and her feet were
bleeding and she wanted to dance too, but she couldn't because didn't know the words to the woman's song. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

Tara ducked around the overgrown bushes, clutching the stake in her sweating palm. She hated patrolling, although it was
almost worth it to see the expression of excitement on Willow's face. They weren't even supposed to be out here, roaming
the cemetery after dark, but Willow had decided tonight would be the night to try the spell. 

Sounds of a scuffle ahead and Tara's anxiety level increased. She knew that in her hand, the one not holding the stake, she
held a piece of paper that could undo everything. Her translation had been as accurate as she could make it. Her
calculations had turned out as close as possible to the original's specifications. And still she was nervous. She couldn't
even guarantee that saying the spell in English would have the same effect as in the Gaelic in which it had been written. 
But this is what Willow wanted. Willow wanted everyone to get along and help each other because she believed that would
make the world, and therefore Sunnydale, a better place. Somewhere deep inside herself Tara knew better than that, but it
didn't matter in the face of her Willow's convictions. 

"How close do we need to be?" Willow whispered. 

"We have to be in visual contact; and Buffy and Spike have to be no more than five feet apart," Tara answered, trying to
keep the edginess she was feeling out of her voice. 

They crept closer to the scuffling noises, punctuated every few seconds by a grunt or a tossed-off insult with a sneering
British accent. Tara felt Willow tense in response to a surprised exclamation of pain that sounded like Xander. Moving her
stake to her other hand, reached out to squeeze her girlfriend's fingers. Hand in hand, they continued forward until they
could see eight pairs of legs scuffling about through the undergrowth. They straightened slowly, ducking out of the way of
overhanging branches. Standing finally, Tara ignored the cramp in her calves and surveyed the scene before them. 

Buffy and Riley were fighting back-to-back, Riley wielding a long stake in his right hand. Buffy had lost hers and was
quickly scanning the area for a replacement as she held off her attacker. They appeared in complete control of their
environment. 

Xander and Spike seemed to be having a tougher time of it. Theirs' seemed to be a system of working together in which
Xander got thrown around while holding his stake out in front of him and Spike pulled the vampires away for a verbal
riposte. What Tara further noticed was- 

"They're too far away from each other," Willow whispered in panic. 

"Just give it another minute. Maybe when they're done and walking back we can do it." Tara tried to sound reassuring, but
this looked to be too messy a fight for them to succeed. She wanted to go back to the safety of their room and try again
some other night. 

"Wait," Willow's excited voice interrupted her thoughts, "Look." 

As Tara focused on where Willow was pointing, she saw Xander gain his footing and grab a rangy vampire by the neck before
thrusting his stake into its chest. As the dust settled around him, he leaned back against the tomb he was standing by and
took a deep breath. 

"Way to go Xander," Willow whisper-yelled. 

With the bad guy count down to three, Xander seemed content to sit and offer helpful tips to the remaining fighters. Riley
had been dragged out of the fray by the she-vamp and was fighting further off. Buffy and Spike had maneuvered so they were
now facing each other, with back-to-back vampires between them. 

Willow turned to Tara with a gleam in her eyes. Tara nodded back and unfolded the piece of paper in her hand. As she held
the words in front of her, she tried to settle her trembling and hoped her partner wouldn't notice how nervous she was, but
Willow seemed too pre-occupied to notice anything amiss as she started pulling the herbs to be burned out of her pack. 

"Are we downwind enough?" Tara asked her. 

Willow surveyed the violence happening before them and shook her head. "It doesn't matter, they'll never notice." And, not
even waiting for a response, she lit the herbs, sending acrid sweet smoke into the air around them. Willow turned to Tara,
her eyes alight with excitement. "Hurry." 

Tara started reading the words on the page, her voice as shaky as her hands. She lifted her stake hand and used the back of
it to wipe sweat from her forehead as she read. She barely took notice of Willow chanting responses as the now sickly smoke
hazed around them, refusing to dissipate. She read the words and tried to concentrate on their intent, the images from the
fight burned in her mind. She read the words as she felt that same sweat drench her hair, roll down her neck and back,
pooling at the top of her skirt, soaking the fabric. She continued to read even as a wash of dizziness caused her to reach
out, dropping her stake, to balance herself on the headstone beside her. The words buzzed behind her eyes, fluttering her
eyelids. Her lips and tongue felt thick and she couldn't even see Willow anymore through all the smoke and she really
wanted to see her, but she couldn't squinch her eyes to look because the words, the words became everything. And the sounds
of the altercation before them were reduced to a subdued, but discordant drone and dust joined the air with the smoke and
cries of pain gave way to murmurs of satisfaction. And the smoke blew out. And the night was clear. And the words were
gone. 

Just as Tara registered the fact that they were done, the paper in her hands flared, glowing green and cool. She opened her
hand and fine grainy ashes scattered in the breeze that seemed to come from within. 

Xander's voice cut through the fog in her mind. "Hey guys. We didn't order a cheering squad, but Spike could probably use
a little happy right now." 

It was then that both girls could see the cause of the garbled exclamations coming out of Spike's mouth. Sticking out of
the uppermost part of his thigh was a long stake. 

"Bloody Slayer can't watch her step," Spike was muttering through clenched teeth as he grasped the blunt end of the pointed
stick and pulled it out. The force of his pull caused the stake to fly through the air and land at Tara's feet. As she
jumped back, staring at the dark blood covering the tip, Tara heard the vampire call out, "Sorry, ducks, must have
'slipped'." When she looked back up at the foursome, she saw Spike glowering at Buffy. 

"Well I did slip," Buffy replied in all innocence. 

"Yeah, you aimed a little low there, didn't you Buffy?" Riley glared back at Spike, placing his body between his girlfriend
and the scowling vampire. 

Buffy nudged Riley aside and got in Spike's face. "If you hadn't been in my way, I wouldn't have 'slipped' and you wouldn't
have gotten all intimate with Mr. Pointy." 

"Wasn't in your way, Slayer. Was saving the useless all-thumbs you keep in your little pep squad here." Spike jerked his
head in Xander's direction. 

"Hey," Willow interrupted, "that's just so not right. We saw Xander dust one of those vamps tonight, didn't we Tara?" 

But no one was listening as Buffy stepped further into the vampire's personal space and reached her hand down to his thigh,
squeezing the wound until everyone could practically hear the sound of Spike gritting his teeth. "I guess anytime you're
around, you just seem too close for me, Spike." She pulled away, wiping Spike's blood on the front of his shirt. She
walked toward Tara and picked the discarded stake up from the ground, scraping off any remaining traces of blood on the
grass before tucking it in her back pocket. She smiled at the group scattered around her. "Well, a busy night of slayage
makes a girl tired. See you guys tomorrow?" 

Willow and Tara helped Riley gather the scattered weapons. As everyone grouped again, they all heard Spike growl. "Well I'm
not bloody helping anymore if the chosen bint can't seem to keep her footing around me while wielding sharpened wood." 

Buffy turned and pulled out "Mr. Pointy," tapping him against the vampire's chest with casual ease. "Oh let's not wait
until the next time, Spike. I'm tempted to trip right here," she responded. She turned away to leave, pulling the
glowering Riley along. 

Willow was looking from Buffy's retreating back to Spike's chest, her expression lost. Tara knew what she was thinking. 
*It didn't work. All that, just smoke and mirrors.* She resisted the urge to hug her girlfriend in front of Spike, not
wanting to invite notice to herself. The vampire was still preoccupied with his injury as Xander tied a piece of cloth
ripped from his already torn shirt around the punctured thigh. When he stood, Xander pulled the vampire's arm over his
shoulder to steady him. 

"C'mon, Spike. If you promise to be a good boy, I'll let you stay at casa de Xander tonight so you can recuperate in
style." Xander started toward the edge of the cemetery, bearing Spike's weight on his tall frame. He called back to Willow
and Tara. "Escort?" 

Tara nodded and started following the sound of Spike's grumbling. "I'll promise nothing. It's the least you could do. 
Lending me these defective trousers." 

Xander stopped. "Wait! I didn't loan you...Oh, I am so going to buy a padlock for my dresser. And," he gave Tara his full
attention; "I want a dis-invite spell tomorrow!" 

"Um, sure, Xander," Tara answered, distracted by the tugging on her arm. She allowed Willow to hold her back, letting the
one-part angry, one-part amused discussion between the two men drift away from her. She met Willow's upset expression with
a guilty heart. 

"It didn't work. Why didn't it work?" 

"W-we don't know that it didn't work, Willow. Maybe-" 

"No. That wasn't just the two of them being all huffy and hating each other. I saw definite stake-age threatening there." 
Willow's voice was forlorn. 

"I...I'm sorry, Willow. I tried my best." Tara fought to keep the tears at bay. 

Willow stared at her, head tilted and eyebrows crinkled in that way that almost made everything better. Tara felt Willow's
warm fingers intertwine with her own as they headed again toward home. "It's not your fault. Stupid old book. It held
such promise, being all dusty and in another language." 

Tara squeezed the hand holding hers and filled herself with the love that was an almost physical presence in the night. 
"Well, Monsignor del Braque did say in his 'Treatise against Magickal Properties' that one could trust the people of the
Highlands least of all." 

Willow perked up. "Did he? I thought he only got all ooky over the Irish." 

Tara leaned a little more against Willow's warm regard. "I think he was very open-minded about his hatred of anyone on that
side of the English Channel." At Willow's laugh, Tara relaxed more and let herself enjoy the sudden quiet of the night. No
more fighting or creepy things scurrying away in the dark, the warm air lacking the oppressiveness of summers at home. She
spotted Xander, Spike still leaning against him, waiting for them up ahead and felt almost happy. 

Willow sighed as they increased their pace to catch up with the unlikely duo. "It would have been so great, if not for the
not working thing." 

Tara smiled over at her. "Definitely. The greatest." 

* * * * * * * * * * 

Research party. Only this time, there was food, but no party. Mr. Giles had caught Willow returning the book of spells and
was currently lecturing both of them about their "ill-advised venture." When Mr. Giles turned to replace the book on its
shelf, Willow leaned towards Tara. 

"I don't know why he's being so grouchy about it. It didn't do anything but make my hair all stinky." 

All Tara could do in response was nod, her eyes never leaving the tall man trying so hard not to yell at them. 

"Now, no more spells from books in this house unless you come to me first, am I clear?" When both girls nodded at him, he
continued, "And the reason I'm so...grouchy, as you so eloquently put it, is because a mis-handled spell could have very
dangerous consequences." Mr. Giles looked at them over his glasses and sat in the chair across the table. "One or the both
of you could have been seriously hurt. And that would make me more than a little...grouchy, as it were." 

"Oh," Willow said as she looked down. Tara resisted the urge to cross her arms in front of her chest, choosing instead to
pick the green peppers off her slice of pizza. 

Rubbing his hands together, Mr. Giles stood. "Now, as to the other part, that particular spell never would have worked on
Buffy and Spike." 

"Was it a Slayer-Vampire issue?" Willow asked. 

"No. In order for that spell to work, two specifications must be met. The most important is the intent of the
participants. Secondly, the person performing the spell must have either the explicit or implicit knowledge that such a
result is desired." 

"Or implicit?" Tara hated asking questions, but that word was causing strange nigglings in her stomach. 

"Yes, er, normally this spell was used when the leaders of opposing clans wanted to make an either temporary or lasting
peace, usually to ward off a third, stronger common enemy. Sometimes these pacts must be made between clans that had been
warring for generations and whose willingness was grudging at best." Mr. Giles removed his glasses, placing the earpiece in
his mouth. His voice softened as he continued. "It is fascinating. If the Seer was strong enough, he, or she, could
determine the intent was present, even if the people themselves were too stubborn to acknowledge it." 

The niggling in Tara's stomach turned queasy. "Um...Mr. Giles? Could you explain the part about implicit knowledge?" 

"Well, that is the second specification. If the first is intent, then the second is the ability of the person casting,
referred to as the Seer, to determine that intent in whatever form it may present itself." 

Willow was in super-thought mode. "So if the parties won't state their intent to the Seer, she could still cast the spell
if..." 

"If her abilities are such that she can determine that a willingness exists, yes," Mr. Giles completed. "On another note,
could you imagine the chaos that would have ensued if this spell had actually worked? Buffy risking her life to protect
Spike? That is not her destiny." 

"I guess I was doing that jumping in without thinking thing," Willow replied. 

"I appreciate your sincerity, but we are lucky as it is that Spike can not hurt us. Let us not expend our energies fixing
something that is only...slightly broken." 

Mr. Giles voice had gentled during the exchange, but Tara didn't feel better at all. In fact, the queasiness was
threatening to overtake her completely. She stared down at the pizza on her plate and tried to remember exactly what had
happened last night, but she couldn't. She remembered words. Words that had disappeared off the paper in her hand and
burned themselves in her mind, glued there by smoke and fire. She cast back and thought of Spike and Buffy, fighting their
enemies, facing each other, but the image that had stayed with her was one of Spike pulling the tall skinny vampire off of
Xander and the grateful feeling that had washed over her that her friend was unharmed. 

Desperate now, Tara was completely unaware of what was happening around her. Willow and Mr. Giles' voices had receded into
a dull hum, like last night, when the events taking place in front of her had become a dinner party winding down in another
room. And Spike saving Xander, when he could have, should have, let him die. And suddenly the queasiness was gone and a
feeling of dread acceptance settled in her body like a second skin. She had been right. Something had been undone. And
now nothing would ever be the same again. 

END