Witness Protection
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Witness Protection
Chapter 1: A Way Out
"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Rack turned
around and stared at the quivering, shaking figure in front of
him. "Warren," he growled, "something tells me that you just did
something awfully, fatally stupid." He sniffed the air. "I sense
a dark presence following you. I can smell it, the darkness. It's
creeping its way toward you, trying to wrap itself around you.
When it succeeds, it'll crush your very living soul. So why in
the name of Thespia are you leading it to my lair?"
Warren stammered and stuttered, trying to force the words out.
"I-I-I... k-killed her... I didn't mean t-to. I wa-was only after
the-the Slayer. B-but I killed her. I killed her."
"Who?"
"Tara."
"Strawberry's girl?" Rack gave a menacing smirk. "So now you have
the witch after you." His smirk turned to a frown. "And she'll be
after me, too, if she finds you here with me. That's really
something that I can do without."
Warren's eyes widened in fear. "Please, you're the only one that
can help me now! As the best magic user in all of Sunnydale, only
you can protect me from Willow's wrath." Rack raised an eyebrow
at this and Warren continued. "Remember all the times I've helped
you out in the past? You know the magic, I know the technology,
and together, we've made some very lucrative items. That kinda
cash flow - all gone. And if I die, it won't just end there. No,
Willow will kill the other members of the Trio, and your access
to the latest hi-tech equipment will die with them." At once
again receiving only a raised eyebrow in response, Warren became
frustrated. "Who is more powerful, Willow or you? The teen witch
or the mage with decades of spell-casting under his belt?"
Rack frowned, his patience worn out. "Enough! I will help you."
"Oh God, thank you! You don't know how-"
Rack cut him off. "These are my terms: if I help you, you do what
I tell you to do and you make what I want you to make. Without
cost on my part. If you disobey me, after tonight, you won't just
have Willow to worry about. You'll have me after you as well and
you'll never leave Sunnydale alive. You won't even be lucky
enough to leave Sunnydale undead."
Warren paced up and down the room in front of the mage. "Okay,
agreed. Now what weapon can you give me that can stop Willow from
terminating me Emperor Palpatine style?"
"Be still," Rack commanded. Warren stopped pacing. "I won't give
you a weapon. You got yourself into this mess, and I will give
you a way to get yourself out of it. I'm going to," he paused, a
devious smile crossing his face, "to place you in the magical
equivalent of a state witness protection scheme. You have one
chance. If you muck it up and the witch finds out, you'll be as
good as human sushi."
"Wait, like a disguise?" Upon receiving a 'yes,' Warren thought
it over. "A throwback to Men In Black, huh? You gonna give me an
Edgar suit?" Warren nodded to himself. "That could work."
The mage gave Warren a thin-lipped smile. "Not an Edgar suit. A
Tara suit." Rack held up his hand to silence the on-coming
complaint from the boy. "You took Willow's soul mate from her,
without reason, without cause, with nothing but your own blind
hatred to drive you. Now you will balance out the injustice - you
will pose as her soul mate."
"Are you crazy?!" Warren fumed. The mage's demeanor darkened
greatly and Warren forced himself to calm down. "Rack, buddy,
it's a little... I really don't think I can do that."
"Then leave."
"Alright, alright!" Warren threw up his hands in surrender. "I'll
do it, whatever you say. Just keep me alive."
"Stand still."
Warren stood as still as his trembling body would allow. He tried
to ignore the pounding of his heartbeat, the roaring of blood in
his veins. He stared up at the cracked ceiling and imagined
staring up at the silken lining of a coffin, shrouded in
darkness. Forever.
Rack chalked out a pentagram around Warren and gave him a silver
cross to hold. "It used to belong to Strawberry's girl," the mage
explained. "She exchanged it for another amulet and also paid a
few dollars. Put it in your pocket and stay inside the pentagram,
no matter what happens. This spell will by no means be pleasant
for you. There will be pain, but pain worth enduring. It won't be
a fraction of the pain that Willow will inflict upon you if she
ever finds out who you truly are. And it's only a fraction of
what you really deserve."
Rack began to chant softly, working Tara and Warren's names into
his spell.
Warren felt pins and needles in his feet. He stamped them down
hard, trying to alleviate the discomfort but the feeling faded
only to be replaced by insurmountable pain. He screamed as he
stared at his feet. They were molding, twisting, changing while
the rest of his body remained the same. Then he fell to his knees
as they too began to warp beneath the greater portion of his
body. He fell over completely and writhed in agony on the floor,
but forced himself to a level of awareness that kept him from
moving outside the pentagram. When his stomach warped, he had to
fight back the urge to throw up. The magical change rose past his
lungs, sucking the air from him, and for a few moments, causing
him to choke, and past his heart, which beat even faster than
before. His arms were next as they pinned themselves against his
new torso. Finally, it reached his head. The pain was so great it
caused him to pass out.
Images swam around him in the blackness. Moving pictures flashed
before him, memories that were not his own shone for a few
seconds before fading away.
Tara's cruel family.
Flash.
Tara learning her first spell.
Flash.
Tara meeting the Scoobies.
Flash.
Tara falling in love with Willow.
Flash.
Tara getting shot.
Flash.
With that last image, Warren awoke with a start. He took a few
deep breaths, trying to calm himself down, as he picked himself
up from the floor. After he steadied himself, he tried to blink
away the fog in his head but to no avail. He shook his head to
try and escape the haze, only succeeding in catching movement out
of the corner of his eye. Turning toward the movement, he gasped.
The face of Tara MacClay stared back at him. He put up his hands
to defend himself and she did the same. Then the fog lifted, his
vision clearing totally, and he realized he was looking in a
mirror. He put his hands to... her face. He realized he was now a
she. She. Her. Tara. Willow's lover. "I'm Tara." His voice was
hers. And everything else was hers, too, everything different.
Gone were his button-up shirt and jeans. Instead, a long-sleeved
blue shirt and gray slacks adorned his body. As he inspected his
new self, long, dirty blonde hair slapped against his neck with
each movement of his head. He held his new bosoms in the palms of
his hands for a few seconds in amazement. "Rack, what have you
done?" His new girlish voice sounded so strange to him.
"I've given you a new identity. But to make the spell work,
you'll have to act like Tara. Otherwise, the spell will fail and
you'll get your old body back. If that happens, you'll last as
long as a pint of blood in a vampire nest. To survive, you must
live the life of the one that you have slain. Simply, if you
deviate from being her enough to be found out, you will die."
"But how can I be like a girl I know so little of? I don't have
her memories. All I know of her is that she was a Scooby, a
witch, and Willow's girlfriend." His face, Tara's face, scrunched
up in frustration. "And what kind of life is it to live another's
life for them? As them?"
"Living someone else's life to save your own is fair trade.
You'll have to learn fast, because-" Rack was cut off as the door
slammed in on itself and Dark Willow, in all her magical glory,
swept into the room.
Lesley
- 08.04.2022
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