Shaddyr's Eclectic Collection > Pretender Fanfiction > Buffy Fanfiction > Shaddyr > Convergence

Convergence
part 4
by Shaddyr

The Ice Cream Parlor was mostly empty. Jarod and Buffy sat at a table in the back talking. The conversation had ranged the full spectrum of topics from his most interesting pretends and forays against the Centre to her most intriguing battles. She'd giggled when he'd told her about some of the more bizarre gifts he'd sent as clues to his 'scoobie gang'. It was kind of fun to 'talk shop' with someone - especially one who could appreciate his sometimes childish sense of humour. He'd sat in awe as she'd described some of the scarier moments in her career as Slayer; dealing with the Master, Spike and the Gem of Amara, Adam. Glory the Hellgod.

After describing how Willow and the Scoobies had brought her back, she'd begun to falter. He sensed there were things that she didn't want to delve into. After a few tense moments, Buffy forced a smile and changed the subject.

"So, tell me" she asked while devouring her chocolate fudge sundae, "does all the justice wreaking play havoc with your love life too, or do you have a girlfriend?"

Jarod eyed the young blond woman from overtop his double banana split before responding. "Havoc?"

She sighed. "Well… it's a little difficult trying to have any kind of relationship when you're busy saving the world from vamps, demons and the occasional apocalypse." Buffy cocked her head to one side and gave him a small grin. "I figured that doing all the sting-y stuff to bad guys probably causes the same kind of problems for you."

He smiled. "There is that. I've met a few ladies along the way, but it never worked out."

"Tell me about them," Buffy demanded imperiously.

He rolled his eyes.

"Aww, c'mon! Spill. You *know* you wanna," she cajoled.

"I…" he hesitated.

She tilted her head forward and gave him a menacing look. "Do I have to threaten you with a stake? Give it up!"

He chuckled at that. "Okay," he finally conceded, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "There was Nia... she was wonderful, but… all we really shared was pain. We'd both suffered so much, and we could comfort each other. Then there was Rachel." He grimaced at the memory of his behavior with the profiler. "Well, she was a mistake. Then there was Zoe. Zoe was sweet, flighty, full of life. She was nothing like anyone I had ever met." A sad look came to his face. "But she deserved someone who loved her whole heartedly. And she also deserved to not have the Centre use her to get at me."

His face became serious. "Sometimes, though, your heart makes an untenable choice." He took another bite before going on. "I have it is not subject to reason."

"Okay," she gave him a mock frown as she shook her spoon at him. "You've gone all Cryptic Boy on me here, and just so you know, that job is already taken."

Jarod just cocked an eyebrow at her.

Buffy tried again. "In words and phrases that make sense to me, please?"

"Ah." He simplified. "Sometimes you fall for the absolutely wrong person. Your mind knows, but your heart doesn't care."

After studying him for a moment, she nodded in understanding. All the stories he'd been sharing, the warmth and affection in his voice as he talked about *her* made sense. "You're in love with Miss Parker."

He pensively gazed out the window for a minute before returning his attention to her. "Yeah. I am. I guess I always have been.

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "I *so* understand about that. Bad choices, unreasonable heart - I'm there."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Really? So it's not just Spike who's in love with you then?"

"What?" she faltered. "No! I mean, yes! I mean, what are you implying?" She crossed her arms and glared at him.

Jarod smiled. She really did remind him of Parker when she did that. "Well, the tension between you is obvious. Sometimes you just 'click' with another person-"

Buffy interrupted. "He's not a person, He's a Vampire."

He continued, unfazed. "-but the two of you have this connection that positively crackles with electricity. It reminds me a lot of what it feels like when I'm in a room with Miss Parker." His smile became a grin. "She deals with her feelings in a similar fashion. Over the years I've learned to read her pretty well, and I think I can safely say that you're giving off 'conflicted love' signals."

'I… I am *not* in love with Spike!"

"Then the 'I'm there' comment meant what exactly?"

She backpedaled. "I, I meant, been there, done that. That's all. Yeah. That's me. Been-there-Before Girl."

"But you told me yourself, Buffy."

"What? I think I would remember that!" she protested hotly. "And since I don't remember suffering any bouts of amnesia lately-"

Jarod let the obvious comment pass unsaid. "In the training room. You said that the two of you are still dancing; plural."

"Yeah, yeah, takes two to tango. Well, I'm not tangoing!"

"Tango?"

"Never mind. Just… I don't want to talk about this, okay?"

He looked into sea green eyes that harboured pain and confusion. "Okay."

Buffy pushed the melted remnants of her sundae away. "Let's get out of here. It's going to take at least 3 vamps to work off those calories."

Jarod took the last bite of his banana split, then picked up both their plastic dishes and deposited them in the trash. "Actually, being that there were approximately 458 calories in that sundae…" He looked her over top to bottom. "Someone your size burns about 95 calories in 10 minutes of doing high impact aerobics - which I suppose would be a lot like fighting off a vampire - so, if it takes you 10 minutes to kill one, I would change that to at least 4 vampires," he said with a smirk.

She scowled and punched him in the arm. "Shut up, Jarod! You are so *not* helping!"

He chuckled and rubbed his arm as they walked out of the shop.


********

Parker stared out the window from her booth in the rear of the Espresso Pump and nursed her double shot latte. What she *really* wanted was her bottle of Glenfiddich and a shot glass, but barring that, caffeine was the next best thing. Besides, she didn't have a clue where the bars in Sunnyhell were anyway.

Everything was normal. Totally fine. Parker figured if she told herself that enough times, she'd start to believe it. Not that she was having much luck so far, but she was working on it.

Time to check in. She pulled out her cell, hit a preset and waited.

"Sydney here."

"Find anything?"

"Mr. Broots has several leads that fit the criteria. However, I feel it is highly unlikely that Jarod is here for any of them. None are high profile, and none were reported outside of the state. Or the county for that matter. In my opinion, the probability of Jarod investigating one of these cases is exceedingly low."

Parker swore softly. "And you? Anyone identify our boy?"

"None of the front desk clerks at the hotels I visited recognized his photo, but you must remember, this is day staff. It is likely he checked in late in the evening."

"Anyone registered under the name of Jarod?"

"Broots is attempting to gain access to the computer registry of each hotel. It'll take a little time."

"Call me if you find something."

Parker disconnected and slipped the phone back into her jacket pocket. The need to do something other than sit here trying not to think about the dread that had overwhelmed her earlier drove her towards the door. She stopped in front of the cashier first and pulled out a somewhat worn 5"x7", displaying it for the young woman's perusal.

"Have you seen this man?"

The girl studied the photo for a moment, then looked up. "Nope. Sorry," came the apologetic response.

Parker took a sip of coffee, slipped the photo back in her pocket and left the coffee shop. Time to do some old fashioned recon. She headed off down the street.

******

Giles stretched, the hours of being hunched over texts and working on translation taking its toll. He was close to being done, but instead of simplifying things, the new translation was causing a brand new headache. With a sigh, he rose and stepped to the doorway of his office, and called across the room.

"Willow, could you please bring me the 'Guide to ancient Sumerian'?

The red head nodded. Walking over to the 'for in-store reading only' bookshelf, she glanced through the titles. A moment later she found the text and pulled it, bringing it over to Giles.

"Stuck?" she inquired.

"Not exactly," he replied, paging through the book.

Willow peered down at the scribbled notes that lay all over Giles' desk. "Whatcha got so far?"

"The part of the prophecy that states the Slayer and the Chosen One must join to fight - it appears to have been translated rather loosely. The text I just deciphered is a very similar prophecy, but it says the two must become one." He glanced up from the book for a moment. "This language is very precise - there is no of use similes. I'm afraid that it's meant to be literal."

"Well, maybe the one you just finished was wrong, and the one we found first was right."

He found what he was looking for in the volume Willow had brought him. He read it, re-read it, then looked up with a frown. "I wish that were so. But the first was translated from the Sumerian, and according to this," he said, indicating the book in his hands, "the use of the verb join in that context is also meant in a literal sense."

Willow grew agitated. "But, Giles, how?" A look of horror flashed across her face. "You don't think it means… you know… becoming *one* in a, a biblical sense do you?"

Giles shook his head. "There is an entirely different verb for that. No, this means literally one - their individual essences combining in a fashion similar to the way we assisted Buffy in the fight against Adam. However, this battle will be a supernatural one rather than physical." He put the book down, and then crossed his arms. "When they are joined, their bodies will be vulnerable to attack." Giles turned a serious gaze on Willow. "We are going to need magical help."

A cold lump formed in Willow's stomach. "Magic?" she squeaked out. "Um, you better call Tara, she's-"

"I plan to. But Willow, Tara does not have the skill required to perform this herself. The spells needed for this to work are quite advanced. It's highly unlikely she could even manage them with assistance. You're the only one who can."

"No. No, I can't, Giles, I just can't!" She back away from him, shaking her head.

"Willow." Giles cut her off. "I know you're frightened - and with good reason. You did some incredibly dangerous and stupid things with your magic. But Buffy is going to need your help. Tara is simply not powerful enough to face this."

Fear enveloped her. "Well, maybe - maybe I'm not powerful enough to face it either," she argued.

"You went up against a Hellgod, and your held your own for awhile - that bespeaks incredible strength," he assured her.

He saw the stricken look in her eyes as she continued shakily. "What if I'm not strong enough to resist the pull of the magic again? What if I get lost in it? What kind of help will I be then?"

Giles placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You won't let that happen, Willow. You already made that choice. And you won't be alone. Tara will be there to help steady you, give you an anchor. But ultimately, you are the one we really need for this to work. We can't do it without you."

Tears flowed freely down the young witch's face. "But Giles, I'm so, s-s-scared!" she buried her face in her hands.

The Watcher pulled her in gently, wrapping his arms around her in a tender, fatherly hug. "It's good to be scared, Willow. Hold on to the healthy fear. Remember the purpose of this magic - it is a tool to be used in achieving a goal, not the ultimate goal in and of itself."

They stood there for a bit, until she collected herself and finally pulled away. Fishing a Kleenex out of her sweater pocket, Willow wiped her nose, then gave Giles a nod and a wavery smile.

"I guess I better go look into some spells then, huh?"






Anya wandered about tidying up as she prepared to close the shop. She came to a sudden stop as she caught the title of the book Willow was reading. "That's a spell book."

The red head started guiltily. "Oh! Yes… it is." Her face flushed. "Giles! I mean, Giles asked me. To help. With spells I mean…."

Anya held up a hand to stop her explanation. "Good. Glad to hear it."

Willow just stared at her. "Good?"

Anya gave her a 'duh' look. "You made a total mess of it for a while-"

"Thanks for the gentle reminder," muttered the witch under her breath.

"-but the important thing is that you take responsibility for your choices." Anya cocked her head to the side, folding her arms across her chest as she studied the woman before her in the particularly blatant manner that she had. "You *have* finally gotten it about what you really did wrong, right?"

Willow looked back at her warily. "I got in too deep. The magic was making me do things-"

"No, Willow," Anya cut her off with an exasperated sigh. "You still don't get it. It was never about the magic. It was about you."

"What do you mean?" she demanded hotly.

"You need to take some responsibility. Magic is kind of like electricity. It only hurts you when you are careless, or when you don't know what you're doing. Your problem was power, not magic. *You* always had to be in control, *you* had to decide what was best for the rest of us… you took our power away from us."

The red head opened her mouth to protest, but the objection died on her lips, unspoken. The understanding had already begun, but Anya's words drove it home. Painfully. Her eyes dropped to her hands as the fidgeted with the pages of the spell book.

Anya gave a quick nod. "Good. You're getting it. You did the right thing when you walked away and admitted you needed help. And now is the right time to come back." The ex-demon fixed her with a stare. "Just don't screw up again." Suddenly cheerful, she leaned forward and patted Willow awkwardly on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

Willow watched as Anya walked off to finish straightening up. The ex-demon sometimes surprised her with her insight, wisdom and acceptance. She could only hope that Xander and Buffy would take the news as well.

Part 5