Not much had happened in the month since Tara met Willow. They hung out sometimes - studying English lit, coffee and snark after Wiccan circle meetings, a couple minutes awkwardly sipping punch together at the aftershock party in Porter after that earthquake before Willow got weird about some jock she knew from high school and left - but their ( Read more... )

When she found the Wiccan Sisterhood at Sunnydale, Tara had hoped she'd find something in it like what she'd felt in Magic Reserves.

It wasn't close. Yet she kept coming, week after week, and hardly saying anything because she knew they wouldn't believe her. For a bunch of Wiccans, they really didn't want to do much magic ( Read more... )

Tara slid through the vents with surprising ease. She landed hard on her knees in a cold, dark space that she quickly realized had to be the house's basement and dusted off her skirt as she rose to her feet.

"M-maybe we'll be safe here?" she asked, but didn't sound too hopeful.

( Maybe not so much. )

( The only thing we have to fear... )

Tara looked up from her laptop screen -- which held a half-finished essay on Roman statuary for her art history class -- and rubbed her forehead. She liked college. She did. It was just the actually writing academic papers, with cited sources and proper grammar, was a little challenging after three and a half years in which her classes were called ( Read more... )