it's 2:10 p.m., on 2001-07-02 - anya/tara, and more post-Gift.
~
No one ever explained to me about this. They had all these rules and regulations-- everyone always explained the rules.
They never told me how to break them.
*
It started with some stupid little board game about a candy mountain, and a candy lake, and some brightly colored money. I don't understand that-- money should be green. Unless you're from another country, or strange.
And Dawn, little dawn that I used to put up with because Xander glared otherwise, was the one to teach me this one.
If you're sneaky enough, and if you're nice enough, and if people aren't looking, you can cheat.
That's where it started.
*
People want to tell you things just because they think it's convenient. They never want to tell you *everything*.
Cheating on taxes. A little slip of a zero, and there's more money. The consequence is if you get audited, you could go to prison.
Little short-cuts.
--like demons take.
*
This came to me while I was washing my hands.
I'm talking to Sheila on AIM right now, about whether Oz really *needs* anyone. I think, we've decided that he likes people (she said, finds them genuinely interesting), but that he doesn't tell people anything and that he doesn't need them around.
~*~
That's all from last night, but hey, I want to save the Anya, so I'm posting it anyway. I wanted to finish that fic with Anya, cheating, but I asked Sheila whether she thought Anya would ever cheat and she said 'no' and really, that's what I was thinking myself.
I mean, Anya's seen the score with scorn. But maybe she doesn't know that women can do it too. Like a woman-power thing; the patron saint of scorned women, unable to affect vengeance for those women, can bring some scorn for herself. Take Tara to bed, and then show willow and xander-- it's not just you straight folks, you vanilla sex hero types, that know what's going on.
'I can take *care* of Tara; I'll tell her the truth, and she won't ask me why I'm akward or blunt and she'll trust me when I tell her she's beautiful and I want her, because I don't lie to people.'
And, of course, the unspoken -- not like Willow.
Some pre-emptive vengeance; payback for Cordelia who's off doing a sainthood of her own. Cassandra with migraines. It's more of Anya's learning process, too, like those three year old children who finally realize that if they can, they can put their chubby little fists in the cookie jar and steal all they want. Before they realize what's right and what's not right.
And people would think Tara was just coerced into this; that this was about Willow somehow, and she would never have done this otherwise. But no, though it *is* about Willow-- that Willow is frightening, and new, and darker and a little meaner than before.
Why didn't Tara ever notice that Willow was mean?
Anya's ex-demon, but she tries; Willow's known Anya for almost three years and hasn't had a kind word to say in all that time. Who's the one who needs avenging?
Anya and Tara would rent a car, and drive into the city, look for Angel-- find Doyle investigations, and ask about the name. Cordelia, sad but determined, 'A hero that died'.
So anya would answer, 'We've got a lot of those ourselves. The couches are nice.'
And that's something Cordy could relate to. Tara would maybe crack Gunn up, because he's a total mystery to me, I can't get a handle on him, and so I just want to keep him surprising people.
The patroness of scorned women -- hear my cries. Leave Xander, a bumbling idiot who loves you but always, always puts his heros first. Leave the witch who works so little and gets so much. Go to Los Angeles, tell Cordelia that Xander's finally left with what he deserves. Cordy'd smile, hard, because she wouldn't forget a grudge. Forgive, maybe, if he'd asked, five years later and if Cordy lives that long.
~*~
I want to write a huge story with my favorite Buffy characters, have Anya and Tara in Los Angeles be the start, get them to search out Oz, eastern Europe by now and with the cult of the Virgin there -- the sacred rites of the goddess Isis, the mysteries of Eleusis. He'd be, methodically, doing them all.
When Tara asks why, he could say, 'Because if I do nothing else with my life, I'm going to learn something important, y'know?'
'So why everything?'
'Oh, well. I want to make sure I get it.'
And they could go to Sedlic Ossuary, because I'm sure it's one of Anya's favorite places, and Tara would be a little frightened and Oz wouldn't be sure, but he'd be able to smell the lives of the people glued to the walls.
And then they'd run into the next Slayer; twelve years old and Romanian, right?
Of course she'd be a gypsy. Payback's a bitch, Angel.
~*~
And what of poor Spike?
Probably driving Dawn crazy, meeting all sorts of crazy people, the likes of which you find in comic books. Maybe they could meet up in Italy, and Tara and Anya could do a little magic that gave Spike a soul... since Anya's a vengeance demon and the spell to give Angel his soul WAS a vengeance spell after all.
I want to write this now. Maybe this is an extension of that series, except Anya and Tara are a little different. A slow development.
Anyway, I think it is, I'm associating them together. It's my inability to write anything long for Buffy -- I can get scenes but I can't do anything but. Because I don't know how to make a cohesive whole out of Sunnydale parts.
Well, neither does Sunnydale itself.
~
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