The Dark Rose

Chapter 11: Awakenings

Willow awoke with the dawn, filled with a sense of anticipation that wouldn't let her sleep any longer. Today she was going out for coffee with Tara. It was their first daytime date. Or at least it was close enough to a date for her.

It was like waking early for Christmas. She'd always celebrated Christmas with Xander and later Buffy even though her parents had disapproved. There wouldn't be any unwrapping though. It was definitely too early for unwrapping. Actually, in some ways it felt like Halloween. The clothes that she had ordered yesterday would arrive this morning. After so long in black leathers, anything else felt like a costume.

Years of staying up long past dusk made the early morning light feel odd to Willow. The night was the time of sorcery. It was when the creatures of the night came out, when dark miracles became possible. Her memories belonged to the night, seeking such miracles in the shadows.

There was one dawn that stood out in her memory. She wouldn't have sought out Spike of her own accord. But there had been rumors of a vampire with a soul, one who wasn't Angel. She had tried adapting the spell that she had used to restore Angel's soul, but it hadn't worked for her with Tara. Nothing had. But she had to keep trying.

It had taken time to track down the rumors and to find to her surprise that they referred to Spike. It had taken more time to track him down to the catacombs near Rome. The eternal city had forbidden the burial of the dead inside its walls in ancient times so the early Christians had dug deep chambers outside the walls for their dead. She found the idea of a vampire lurking in the resting place of so many popes and saints ironic.

Hours passed as she walked through the narrow passageways past thousands of small niches in the wall, which carried the remains of the ancient dead. Little more than dust remained of most of them. The ceilings rose high above her, making space for more rows of grave niches high on the walls. It was an efficient use of limited space, but it also provided spaces for evil creatures to lurk.

She felt the presence of many vampires lurking in the safety of the eternal darkness, but none of them were Spike. She knew him though, and her magic would guide her to him through the maze of branching and twisting tunnels, no matter how deeply he buried himself.

Finally, she emerged into a small irregular chamber that was the junction of five tunnels. There he knelt in the darkness at a small shrine of broken white stones, murmuring to himself. Willow looked closer, her eyes able to pierce even this darkness where the sun had never shone. This wasn't the Spike she remembered. The black leather duster he always wore was gone, and he was dishevled, his clothes dirty and torn.

"Spike," she said sharply.

He looked up directly at her, but it was as if he didn't see her. He continued mumbling something repetitious under his breath. As she listened closer, she realized that the words were Latin. It sounded like a monastic chant. This definitely wasn't the Spike she remembered.

"Spike," she said again, more loudly this time. When he didn't respond, she slapped him with enough force to knock him to the floor.

Finally, his eyes focused on her. "Red," he croaked.

"How did you get your soul back?" Willow asked, speaking slowly and enunciating clearly. She had no desire to exchange pleasantries with the vampire. She just wanted to get her answer and get out of here.

"My soul?" Spike asked, then began cackling madly. The cackling turned into spasms of broken coughing. "You don't want my soul," he said once the spasms ceased. "I don't want my soul."

"I don't want your filthy soul, Spike," she said in an exasperated tone of voice, beginning to lose her patience with him. "Just tell me how you got it back."

"Ah," he said, understanding momentarily entering his mad eyes. "You want her soul."

"Yes," Willow said. "Now tell me."

"It won't help you, you know," he said in the high voice of a child. "You're like me now, all lost in the dark." He paused a moment, staring at her with blank eyes. "I can see, you know," he said in a more normal voice.

"Just - tell - me," Willow said, her fingers beginning to curl in the gestures that would compel the truth from him.

Spike threw back his head and laughed in response. Losing her temper, Willow reached forward to touch his forehead, her hand curled into a claw. Spike jerked convulsively at the contact, and she fell into the swirling chaos of his nightmare of guilt and pain. She saw Spike bite and kill victim after victim in an unending sequence, killing for the joy of it. Then she saw him go further, torturing for the fun of it when killing was no longer enough. She tried to avert her gaze, but the images and sensations of pain and death, the pleasure and guilt of inflicting both, were everywhere.

Gathering her strength, Willow thrust the nightmares away forcefully. Using the freedom that brought her, she burrowed through his mind single-mindedly seeking the knowledge of soul restoration. She saw his journey to Africa, and understood that he hadn't gone looking for his soul. He had intended to get rid of the chip that made him harmless, having chosen to be evil once again. Then she saw the cavern where he had endured tests of courage and fortitude, and at last what she sought--the dark creature who had given back his soul.

She had it.

On her way out of his mind, Willow fought through the black storm of guilt and fear. The dark currents of emotion tugged at her to focus on them, but as if through the corner of her eye, she saw the glint of something different. The storm raged harder, actively opposing her, as she pushed towards her discovery.

Her curiousity grew as she realized that Spike was trying to conceal this when evidence of innumerable terrible crimes was free to see everywhere around her. She forced her way through his barriers, and reached for the bubble of memory that he was attempting to hide, then opened it.

She saw Spike grabbing at Buffy, pushing her down, forcing her down to the floor where he straddled her, holding her arms down as she pleaded with him to stop. Her heart pounded as her blood surged with fear, anger, then finally relief as Buffy threw him off of her.

Her hand clenched into a fist as she pulled her fingers away from Spike's forehead and yanked herself out of his mind. After all they had done for him, he had betrayed the one he claimed to love in such an intimate way. Why had they ever refrained from staking him? He was a monster. He could never change.

Spike cowered away from her, feeling her fury even though he couldn't see her face. Then his attitude abruptly changed, and he struggled to his feet to stare at her defiantly. "You lost your heart, I lost my soul," he said. "It's all the same."

"We're nothing alike," Willow answered coldly. "I would never-"

"It won't do you any good to get her back," he taunted her with the mocking smile that she had always despised. "You've already fallen. It's too late."

"Spike," she said warningly, dark energies beginning to crackle at her fingertips. She had endured too much torment from him to meekly accept these accusations from him now. She had changed, and he would do well to recognize that.

"You're falling deeper even as we speak," he continued in a cocksure manner, ignoring her warning. "At least, I'm trying to reach the light with my soul."

Spike attempting to act noble after all he had done to her, to Buffy, was too much for Willow to accept. Her anger raged brightly within her, demanding retribution for all that he had done. He had to pay for his sins, and she was the very person to grant him justice.

"If it's light you want," Willow intoned. "Then it's light you'll receive." She extended one hand to the ceiling high above and cracked the ancient stone. The light of dawn shone down through the opening into a place that had never been so blessed before.

Spike burst into flames, screaming as the unexpected sunlight ate into his cold, undead flesh. He tried to flee from its brightness. Before he could escape death once more, she plunged a stake into his unbeating heart. The vampire collapsed into ashes and dust, truly dead at last.

Even as she destroyed the undead thing, she wondered if he had been right, if she had fallen too deep into the dark to ever get Tara back. She had buried the person Tara had fallen in love with so deep within herself. She couldn't be the sweet, kind girl who babbled and loved kittens and visit the places she had to go to. Had she buried that person too deep to ever find her again?

Could that girl have killed Spike without a second thought? He was a monster who had tried to kill them more than once, but he was also a person whom she had relied on and fought beside. Perhaps Spike wasn't a good example, but what about the Council of Watchers?

It had been self defence, but if she admitted the truth to herself there had been an element of revenge. Perhaps conjuring the true demon had been overkill. The Watchers' defences weren't of the same caliber of more modern institutions like Wolfram & Hart. She had experienced enough hurt when their wet works team had surprised her though so she hadn't taken any chances.

As she pulled herself out of her memories, Willow kept thinking about those same issues. Now she knew the old Willow was still within her, safely enshrouded within layers of protections as deep as the enchantments that protected her flesh. She could feel parts of her old self resurfacing, venturing beyond the security of her barriers, as she spent time with Tara. Old patterns of thought. Feelings and emotions. Dormant memories stored in skin and muscle.

Still, she wondered if she had lost any part of herself in the darkness. She had buried herself to protect and preserve herself from the pain outside, but had she pushed that self too far down to find all of what she had once been again? She worried too about what Tara would think when she learned about her past. Their past too. Tara didn't even know who she herself was. Willow had to tell her soon. But not today. Today was their first real date.

It was time for her to emerge from the shadows of night and see the world of the light again. She had spent too long there in the dark. She didn't feel ready, but it was time to resume her life, the life that she had buried so deep while she looked for the one whom she had lost. She didn't feel ready, but she was already making the choice that would return her to that path.

Today she chose Tara again.

Tara heard a knocking on her door. She didn't feel like answering it. She didn't feel like doing anything. One thought filled her waking moments: she was losing Willow. He had come back and Willow was going back to him.

Tara woke up smiling, her heart still beating with the thrill and joy of her dream. She chose me! Willow chose me! It was the most wonderful feeling in the world. Then she shook her head, wrinkling her nose as the puzzlement hit her. Chose me over who? What was that name again? She couldn't remember. The details of the dream were slipping away from her as she returned to the waking world, but she held the most important part close to her heart.

Willow had chosen her.

It was just a dream, but it felt so real. It had to mean something that she saw Willow so vividly in her dreams. They shared a connection that was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She had never been in love before so she couldn't be sure what it felt like, but she had a feeling in her heart that she had never had before. She missed Willow when she wasn't with her, thinking about her all the time when she was awake and dreaming about her when she was asleep.

Did Willow feel the same way about her? That was the scary question. Willow had opened up to her in a way that she didn't think Willow had to anyone else. She wondered if Willow shared her dreams with her, if she experienced the same feelings and events that Tara did at night.

How could she ask Willow that though? They both knew about magic and monsters and the scariness of the night, but this was different. Despite her power, Willow felt fragile to Tara when it came to people and relationships. She might scare Willow away if she told her about her dreams.

Tara wondered about the source of her dreams. She'd had the first one before Willow had come to Sunnydale. Were they prophetic? The dreams had shown her what Willow looked like before she had seen that for herself, but the events in the dreams didn't match up with what had happened. Perhaps those events were things that would happen to them in the future, but that didn't make complete sense either because in the first dream it had felt like she didn't know Willow yet.

The dreams seemed more allegorical than prophetic. They hadn't met in a dormitory corridor while being chased by monsters, but they had been attacked by vampires in a cemetery that first time. While they hadn't cast the particular spells of her dreams together, they had worked together to cast other spells to break the darkness and defeat the Master. Were the dreams the reason she had felt a connection with Willow that first night? Was her heart able to recognize Willow in that moment even if her eyes could not?

Maybe Mr. Giles would know about this type of thing. Then she recalled his reaction to Willow's name and wondered again what that meant. Had they met before? Willow had talked about patrolling in Sunnydale and Tara knew that Mr. Giles had been in Sunnydale before but that was years ago. Mr. Giles never mentioned any personal details about his prior life in Sunnydale. Was Willow the reason or was it simply because he had lost his previous slayer?

She shrugged away her doubts. Today wasn't a day for doubts. It was a happy day, the day of their first real date. A day when she would see Willow in the light, a day in which they could be together without needing to worry about vampires or demons lurking in the shadows of night.

Today Willow chose her.

Giles woke up suddenly, raising his head from the pile of books on which it had been resting. He had it! He knew why Willow was here. He got up, absentmindedly massaging the back of his neck with one hand where it ached from sleeping in the wrong position, and walked to the bookcase.

Giles immediately began pulling down books on Indian religions and mythology from the middle shelf, getting both classics like the Bhagavad Gita and modern commentaries. Then from a lower shelf he took books on the cult of Pythagoras and Origen's On First Principles.

Pushing the papers on his desk to one side, he dropped the tall pile of books he was carrying on the desktop. He pulled the top book off the stack and began quickly searching quickly through it. Hours later, he pulled himself away from the books for a few minutes for a fast lunch, having already skipped breakfast. Just as quickly, he returned to immerse himself in the books again, pausing only to find more relevant texts on the shelves of his office.

The reddened rays of the setting sun found him still at his desk, skimming the last pages of a text. Giles closed the book firmly and took off his glasses to polish them. He had verified his hypothesis from this morning to the best of his ability. Everything he had read pointed him in the same direction.

Tara Lucas was Tara Maclay.

More precisely, she was the reincarnation of Tara Maclay.

He should have seen it before. It was so obvious. Perhaps he really had been hit on the head too many times, as Spirit had suggested to him in jest last night.

She shared so much with Tara Maclay in her quiet and calm personality, in her essential goodness, and she looked so much the same that they could be sisters which he had discovered to his surprise was not uncommon in cases of reincarnation. She even had the same first name as if fate were calling out to Willow to find her.

There were spells which would prove his case definitively, but he was convinced. If nothing else, Willow's interest in Tara was enough to make him certain. She had surely divined the truth of Tara's reincarnation and come here to Sunnydale to find her past love. But what had taken her so long? No matter, perhaps she was simply as surprised by the idea as he was and he had had Tara in front of his eyes for months without ever suspecting the truth.

What should he do though? He didn't doubt that Willow loved Tara more than anything in the world and would never willingly harm her, but she could hurt Tara deeply without intending to. This wasn't the Willow Rosenberg that Tara Maclay had met and fallen in love with.

This Willow had been the darkest of dark witches for nineteen years. She had abandoned her friends and everything else in her life for her dark quest. That she had originally been driven by devotion and love, he had no doubt, but he had firsthand experience with how much she had changed.

Yet couldn't Tara offer Willow a chance at redemption? If Willow could be a dangerous influence on Tara, then it also followed that Tara could be a positive influence on Willow. If anyone could bring Willow back to the light, it was Tara. Perhaps fate had brought them together for that very reason.

His first responsibility had to be Tara though. He had to protect her, but what exactly was it that he should do? Should he let her know about her past life or not? Telling her could create an expectation that she should have a relationship with Willow, that fate had brought them together in another life. But not telling her could let her fall in love with a woman who she should avoid, who would love her only for her past if she could still love at all.

Would telling her of the past free her from it or would it instead bind her more closely to it? Whatever he did would change her perception of her relationship with Willow, but would it change it in the right direction? Could he even be certain of what the right direction was?

Could he instead just tell her what he knew about Willow? He would have to leave out her name from Willow's life which would be difficult but not impossible. But what parts should he tell her? Just the dark times after Tara's death or should he be evenhanded and let her know how wonderful and sweet Willow had been in earlier times? She had truly been the best of them until she lost herself in dark magic and grief.

He still worried that some of Willow's darkness was his fault. He should have been more strict with her, but she had been so bright and talented and her heart was so good that he thought she could bear the burden of magic. She had surpassed him while still a schoolgirl.

He had relied on her too much though in the fight against Glory, but what choice had he? She had been the only thing between them and the end of the world so many times that he had forgotten that she was still so young and so fragile emotionally. When Glory had sucked Tara's mind, he should have known that she would go after Glory. Hadn't he done the same when Angelus had killed Jenny?

He should have stayed in Sunnydale that next year to guide her as he had guided Buffy. She had needed him and he should have realized that after their discussion about Buffy's resurrection, but he had been so focused on Buffy and her problems that he had ignored the more important issue of Willow's use of dark magic. He had thought that after Glory, Buffy and Willow could handle whatever evil the Hellmouth threw at them. He hadn't realized that with Joyce gone and Tara and he leaving for their different reasons that the group had lost its emotional core of stability.

He couldn't change what had happened. He had to decide what to do about Tara and Willow and he still had no idea what the right choice was.

Chapter 12: Once More

Willow scrutinized her image in the mirror, making sure that everything was perfect for her date with Tara that evening. Sunglasses hid the darkness of her eyes and red hair fell in loose waves to the middle of her back. She wore a thin, bright red long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans.

This was the thirtieth outfit she'd tried on and it still felt wrong. It wasn't black. All this color was a new thing for her. So was exposing her face to so many people. She wasn't accustomed to that.

She looked over her shoulder at the heap of clothes where her bed used to be and sighed. She had panicked, ordering almost everything in her size from an online store. It had all arrived this morning, and she had been trying on clothes ever since. She shouldn't have to go through this. She had thought her dating days were over when she had first met Tara. She hadn't counted on meeting her all over again.

It had to be just right for Tara. She had to look good but casual because it was coffee and not a date. Coffee was simple; dates were complicated. At least that was her original thinking, but now she wasn't so sure. Good but casual was difficult.

She hadn't been on a date for nineteen years. What if they had changed the rules? Had she even known the rules in the first place? Wait, she was thinking of it as a date again and it was just coffee. Of course, there was probably a proper protocol for coffee too of which she was just as unaware.

This would have to do. She'd already tried on everything else, and she felt least uncomfortable in this. At least she was becoming accustomed to the sunglasses, though her loose hair still felt odd. She was used to wearing it in a tightly coiled braid under her hood. Unbraided, it kept getting in her way, but she wasn't ready to cut it. She hadn't cut it since Tara had died.

It reminded her of how she had once been before everything had turned out so dark. She wasn't that Willow any longer, and she wasn't sure that she could be that Willow again. Even with regular apocalypses, vampires, and demons, it had been a good life. She hadn't thought at the time that she would ever look back on those years as a time of youthful innocence and happiness, but in comparison to her life since leaving Sunnydale it had been.

She would give anything to have her old life back, but getting it back wasn't a simple matter of wishing. She had see too much of the darkness to believe life was that easy. Changes had to happen inside her. It would be a slow process, happening a step at a time. You had to plant in the cold darkness of winter for roses to bloom in the Spring.

Willow looked down at the heap of sunglasses on the dresser. She had liked the little round ones, but they just didn't hide enough of her eyes, so she'd gone with larger lenses that completely obscured the blackness. Her eyes drifted over to the two pieces of jewelry that she had also rejected. It was too soon to wear the doll's eye crystal on its chain, and she didn't need the soul gem to find Tara any longer.

That was it then. She must be ready.

She looked over at the particle-board shelf that she had moved into her bedroom after her last nightmare. There were many heavy tomes on magic that she knew she wouldn't be able to concentrate on. She ignored them and looked at the pile on top of the bookshelf. She really should read the Tacitus. She'd found the complete histories last year and kept meaning to read them, but instead she picked up her well-worn copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. It was a book she read every few years and was always good company if she had to wait.

Willow made it to the Espresso Pump half an hour early. She had given herself plenty of time because you never knew what might happen on a walk in Sunnydale. She was nervous about the whole date, or rather coffee thing, too. She wondered if it was too early to go inside.

The world was so different this evening. No one had taken a second look at her. Normally people hurried to get out of her way. She wasn't sure if it was her clothes or if people could somehow sense the darkness inside her. She shifted her book from hand to hand nervously and glanced at her watch. Less than a minute had passed since she had arrived.

Willow paced up and down the storefront of the Espresso Pump. She worried again if Tara would like how she looked, then she wondered why she was so nervous. It wasn't like they hadn't spent time alone before, but that had been in the darkness of her world. The daylight world around her now was no longer her place. It made her uncomfortable. She suddenly wanted to take Tara away with her into the darkness to be alone there together. Forever.

The tender embrace of the night would shelter them from the garish light of day. Together they would walk into the dark, sharing its secrets and wonders. There was so much Willow could show Tara, the midnight hatching of dragon's eggs in a mountaintop eyrie, the gossamer castles of faerie floating like a mirage in the mist, even the other side of the sky.

They would be together in the night. Everything terrible that had happened to her had happened in the light of day. Discovering Oz's betrayal. Glory taking Tara. And Tara's death. In the dark, she had grown strong. She could teach Tara all she had learned of the night. They wouldn't need the world of the day, would they?

No, Tara had a light within her that was meant for the brightness of day. It wouldn't survive the darkness of winter's night. She had to learn again how to deal with the world of day with its people and everyday happenings. The time of darkness had passed, though it would be long before its shadows left her.

She shook her head. She should be thinking about tonight. She had built deep conversation trees in her head like a chess player looking ahead at all the possible moves her opponent might make, trying to be prepared for everything that might happen on her date.

There she was again, thinking of it as a date. She told herself to relax, that it was just coffee; then again, coffee didn't help her relax. In fact, it was pretty much the opposite of relaxation. All the sugar and caffeine made her hyper. Maybe they should have gone for a relaxing cup of tea instead, but she didn't know if Tara liked tea. She probably thought of tea as foreign and British, associating it with Giles and stuffiness instead of dating and snuggles. Okay, it was good that they were going for coffee instead of tea. That was settled.

Willow looked at her watch again and decided that it was finally late enough to find a table inside. She quickly found a small round table for two by a window so she could watch for Tara. She let the waitress know that she was meeting a friend and that she didn't need anything yet. Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, warming her face and making her glad for the sunglasses.

She took out her book and let it open to a familiar chapter. It was the beginning of book two where Frodo awakened in the haven of Rivendell. She had read this part many times over the last years as she searched for a way to return to her own haven, but her haven was a person, not a place. Her worries drifted away, taken from her by the familiar reassuring words.

Tara walked up to the door of the Espresso Pump and almost entered before spotting a familiar figure reading in the corner of the window, her back to the wall. She almost hadn't recognized Willow without her usual black leather, but she looked lovely in her red shirt with the light of the afternoon sun glinting off the cascade of fiery tresses that fell to the middle of her back. Fascinated, Tara took a moment to admire Willow from outside the coffee shop.

Willow was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Tara watching her. Her expression was softer than it usually was as she focused intently on the book before her. As Tara watched, Willow's lips quirked as she almost smiled at something she read. Then Willow reached up to push an errant lock of red hair out of the way and turned the page.

As she watched Willow read, Tara thought that the combination of the classic beauty of her features and the sunglasses made Willow look like a movie star. She was so beautiful and almost calm in this moment, though she still looked up from time to time to survey the room.

With a smile and a soft sigh, Tara turned away from the vision in the window and entered the coffeeshop. She walked over to Willow's table and sat down across from her. After waiting a few moments to be recognized, she realized that Willow was too lost in her thoughts to look up. She watched her friend read for a few more moments before speaking. "Hi."

"Tara!" Willow exclaimed, surprised by the sudden appearance of her friend. She had been so lost in the book that she hadn't noticed Tara's arrival. It had been years since someone had been able to get that close to her without her noticing them. Even now only Tara could have approached her this closely without setting off alarms.

"Have you been here long?" Tara asked.

"No," Willow answered. "Are you feeling better today?"

"The doctor said everything was okay and I'm feeling fine," Tara said. She looked at Willow's outfit and smiled lopsidedly as she said teasingly, "So you do have something that's not black in your closet."

"Well," Willow said slowly, looking directly at Tara then quickly looking away. "Since this morning I do."

"You bought that for me?" Tara said, her blue eyes sparkling.

"I didn't buy it for the vampires," Willow answered with a little half-smile, a little uncomfortable with letting Tara know just how much she had prepared for this date. It was just coffee after all. She didn't want to frighten Tara away by showing her the full depth of her feelings this early in their relationship. The waitress interrupted them, saving Willow from further embarrassment. She asked if they knew they wanted to order. Willow simply ordered a mocha, while Tara ordered a tall one-shot skinny velvet hammer with extra whipped cream and cinnamon. The waitress took both of their orders, then checked whether they wanted anything else before departing.

After the waitress left, Willow looked at Tara, impressed with her ordering skills. "Where did you learn to speak java?" she asked.

"I grew up near Seattle so I'm a native speaker," Tara answered, trying to sound cool.

"I'll have to have you order for me next time," Willow said with a short, slightly awkward laugh. "Do you speak any other languages?"

"Just French and a little Latin for spells," she said and smiled. She couldn't seem to stop smiling. This felt so different, sweet and intimate yet awkward, than their nighttime meetings.

"I wish you'd been with me in Paris last year," Willow said, trying to hold herself under a little better control. "I only know a few French phrases." As she finished, she found herself smiling again. She couldn't seem to stop it.

"What was Paris like?" Tara asked eagerly, her lips slightly parted in anticipation. "I always wanted to go there." Tara had always wanted to go to Europe, especially France. She had planned to spend a quarter abroad next year, but recently she'd found herself wanting to stay in Sunnydale, more because of Willow than anything else.

"Dark, lots of bones," Willow answered, looking down distractedly as she recalled her time in Paris. "I mean," she said, catching herself and suddenly looking back up at Tara.

Tara looked perplexedly at Willow. She knew Willow was different from most people and wasn't likely to go for the common touristy sights but that wasn't the type of answer she had been expecting. "Are we talking about the same city?" Tara interrupted.

"Did I mention I went there to find a very old vampire so I spent most of my time underground in the catacombs?" Willow answered, cocking her head and raising her eyebrows in an awkward, appealing look.

It had taken weeks in the maze of underground tunnels walled with carefully arranged bones to find the old one she sought. Some of the places had been beautiful in a bizarre way. The walls of bones were sometimes broken up by hearts and crosses made of skulls. When she had finally found the one she sought, she had discovered that he had gone insane from centuries in the dark alone but he had remembered where the dark monks had gone after their banishment from Rome and that had led her to discovery of the Soul Gem and eventually Tara.

"Would you want to go back and see some of Paris that is above ground?" Tara said, arching an eyebrow ironically as she looked at Willow out of the sides of her eyes. "I've heard that is the best part."

Willow gave Tara a look of pure delight, her thoughts of the past forgotten. "Are you volunteering to be my guide?"

Tara grinned at Willow with her familiar lopsided smile and replied, "Yes"

Before Willow could say anything in reply, the waitress arrived with their drinks, giving Willow the mocha and handing Tara her more complicated order. Both drinks came with straws, and she also brought Tara a long spoon for her drink.

Tara took a sip of her coffee drink through the straw then scooped out a bit of the whipped cream with her spoon. She extended the spoon across the table, offering the spoonful of whipped cream to Willow. Instead of taking the spoon from her hand like Tara expected, Willow leaned forward and ate the whipped cream from the spoon while Tara held it, gazing into Tara's eyes as she did so. Tara felt a surge of warmth through her body as she watched. Once she finished, Willow sat back up, her tongue flicking out to remove the last bit of whipped cream from her lips. She gave Tara a sultry smile.

Tara's mind was still busy contemplating what had just happened as she asked dazedly, "Um...what were we talking about?"

Willow smiled wickedly, happy in her ability to distract Tara. "Whipped cream?" she asked in an innocent tone of voice.

Tara blushed at the unneeded reminder. The whipped cream incident was firmly fixed in her mind. It had only been a few moments ago, after all. Of course, their conversation hadn't been that long ago either. She knew that wasn't what they were talking about but she couldn't think back to what they were talking about before their coffee arrived. It felt hazy, like the conversation had been weeks ago instead of only minutes before. Then suddenly she remembered their discussion, exclaiming "Paris!"

Willow regarded Tara like a cat watching the cream. "Oh, yes, that was it," she said insincerely. "I forgot."

Tara mock glared at Willow and looked about as if searching for something to throw at her date. "You did not!" she accused.

"I did," Willow said, trying to sound innocent once more. "You distracted me."

"I distracted you?" Tara said in an outraged tone, "I was not the one who was doing the distracting if you'll remember, Miss Rosenberg." She was enjoying the teasing, but she wasn't going to let Willow get out of this by acting all cute and innocent.

Willow finally had mercy on Tara. "It was me," she admitted, but she couldn't resist adding, "But you did offer the whipped cream to me."

Tara thought back to their evening together as Willow walked her home. They had continued flirting and teasing until their coffees were gone. They had talked about traveling, and Tara had been impressed at all the places Willow had visited. She wondered how old Willow was to have seen so much. However, most of her journeys were similar to her Paris trip so she had missed many of the monuments and museums that Tara wanted to see.

That had changed the topic to art. They had gotten into a friendly argument about that as Willow preferred the more representational art of the classical era and the Renaissance, while Tara liked the Impressionists and modern abstract art. The discussion had gone on for a couple of hours after they finished their coffee.

Then, feeling hungry, they had gone to eat at Tara's favorite Indian place. Tara was happy to find that Willow enjoyed interesting ethnic foods as much as she did. She ordered aloo gobi which they made perfectly as usual, and she had tried some of Willow's karahai chicken but had found it too spicy for her taste. Willow had enjoyed it though, saying the spicier the better and giving Tara another one of those smiles that made her feel so warm inside.

That brought her back to the subject she was trying to avoid worrying about. They were almost to her dormitory, and Tara knew how she wanted the evening to end, but she wasn't sure if Willow wanted the same thing. She thought she did after the whipped cream incident and the flirting that followed, but she wasn't certain.

They reached her dorm. Tara fumbled with her keys, trying to unlock the door as her mind raced. Finally, she got the door open, but she still wasn't brave enough to do what she wanted to do and the moment was quickly passing. Willow usually left her here when she walked her home.

She stepped inside, holding the door open with one arm as she turned back to Willow, trying to think of the right thing to say to her to stop her from leaving. As her mind raced, Willow asked, "Why don't I walk you to your room?"

It turned out Tara didn't have to think of anything.

Tara's throat was too dry to answer so she simply nodded and let Willow into the dormitory. They walked quietly together up to Tara's room on the second floor of the building, each lost in their own thoughts. Tara's heart was racing with anxiety and anticipation, each beat telling her that she had to do this.

She had always been shy in the past, waiting for other people to ask her, but she had never felt this way about anyone else. She couldn't let the moment escape her simply because she was afraid. If she was brave enough to stalk vampires in the night, surely she was brave enough to kiss a girl.

As they approached her door, Tara turned around to look at Willow and found her face only inches away from her own. Willow's eyes were still hidden behind sunglasses even though it had been dark for hours. Tara tentatively reached up to remove the sunglasses, hoping that she would be allowed to do this.

Willow started to raise her hands to stop her, then she dropped them and let Tara pull off the sunglasses, revealing her dark eyes. Tara looked deeply into them, trying to build up the courage to kiss Willow, and as she gazed into those eyes she noticed a glimmer of green beneath the darkness.

That was confirmation enough for her. She tilted her head and leaned forward to brush Willow's lips with her own. They were so soft, softer than she had imagined. She parted her lips, pressing against the wet softness of Willow's mouth then felt Willow kissing her back.

She had done it!

A joyful warmth filled her, but at the same time she felt weak in the knees. Willow's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. She brought her own arms around Willow's head, running her hands through the silken softness of her red tresses.

Her passion building, Tara teased Willow's lips with her tongue. Willow accepted the invitation, letting Tara explore her warm mouth for a few moments before questing for her with her own tongue. Their tongues danced together for a moment as she pressed herself more tightly into their embrace. Willow's hands ran up and down her spine causing her to shiver delightfully. Finally, oxygen becoming an issue, they had to break the kiss. They kept their arms wrapped closely around each other as they looked into each other's eyes.

"You know I'm never going to leave you at the door downstairs now?" Willow said with a broad smile.

Tara's heart was still pounding. Everything had turned out so right. All her worries had left her unprepared for success. She found the suddenness of it all disorienting. It was as if she had been building up the nerve to push with all her strength a seemingly unbreakable wall only to find that it had collapsed at her first attempt.

Finally Tara regained the ability to speak. "I know," she answered, her smile matching Willow's. "But you know, I'm not sure if I did that right," she said, cocking her head to look appealingly at Willow. "Can I try once more?"

"Once more," Willow agreed, her expression full of joy as she brought her lips to Tara's.

Chapter 13: Life after Death

Tara blinked as she stepped into the bright morning sunlight, closing the door of the bagel shop behind her. She turned back to see Willow watching her from inside the shop. She couldn't help herself from smiling as she saw Willow trying to look cute in an attempt to lure her back inside. Shaking her head firmly, Tara waved goodbye, refusing to be enticed into spending more time here this morning. She was already late for her meeting with Giles, but she was happy.

They were taking things slowly, but they met here for breakfast every morning. Willow had insisted on saving her from the evils of dorm food in the morning, pointing out that breakfast was the most important meal of the day. Tara hadn't protested, but she had objected to Willow's suggestions about what they should eat. Willow's ideas for breakfast had started with doughnuts and gone downhill from there.

Chocolate ice cream had been Willow's final suggestion though Tara had no idea where she was going to find that first thing in the morning. Willow had stubbornly defended her idea, arguing that both dairy and chocolate were essential food groups. Tara had been forced to resort to pouting to win the argument, but it had gotten Willow to cave in immediately. She grinned as she stored that knowledge away for a time when she'd really need it; for instance, if Willow forgot her goodnight kiss or some other equally dire circumstance.

Tara had skipped quite a few cafeteria dinners this week to be with Willow too. They talked every night and had tried some spells together that hadn't involved immediate danger for a change. They weren't making the best of progress on that front, however, as they kept getting distracted.

She would reach over to fix an errant lock of red hair and suddenly neither of them could remember what they were working on. They had tried to institute a no touching rule during spellcasting, but they had only made it through one spell that way. She didn't really mind. The floating rose spell had been beautiful anyway.

They were sitting facing each other on the hardwood floor of her dorm room. A square of black material upon which she had circumscribed a circle around a star in white sand sat on the floor between them. Her face was slightly flushed with anticipation as she watched Willow place the long-stemmed red rose inside the mystic symbol. The rose was just beginning to bloom, its petals almost completely closed.

"We'll start out slow," Willow said, reaching across the circle for Tara's hands.

"Okay," Tara agreed, taking Willow's hands in her own and closing her eyes as Willow had. She waited.

After waiting a few minutes, she opened her eyes a tiny crack and peeked out at Willow to see what she was doing. Willow was sitting crosslegged with her eyes closed, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Willow?" she asked.

"Yeah," Willow answered, her eyes still closed.

"Start out slow doing what?" Tara asked, feeling foolish as she opened her eyes fully to look questioningly at Willow.

"Oh," Willow said in a soft voice, looking a bit embarrassed for not explaining the spell. "We're gonna float the rose. Then use the magicks to pluck the petals off, one at a time. It's a test of synchronicity. Our minds have to be perfectly attuned to work as a single delicate instrument."

"Cool," Tara said after a moment of consideration.

"And it should be very pretty," Willow added with a smile.

They closed their eyes together, their breaths slowing as they stilled their minds to focus on the rose. Tara felt a warm tingling beginning in her fingertips like it had the day they had broken the storm. Today it was softer, slower, as the sensation inched its way up her arms. She could feel the rose quivering with her mind as the tingling grew into a warm resonance that poured into her blood.

She felt like she was the one who was floating as the pulsing current reached her heart and it sped up to match the cadence of the tide of magic flowing through them. Her breathing quickened, each breath bringing into her the power of the spell they were working together. The thrill of magic burning through her body, air and water and fire all at once, heightened to euphoria as she felt the rose lift from the earth.

She opened her eyes to see the rose floating in the air between them. "It worked," she breathed with a warm, giddy smile.

"Now for the hard part," Willow said, her broad smile making Tara feel even warmer inside. "The petals."

They concentrated on the rose together, breathing rapidly as the passionate warmth of their conjoined magic surged through their bodies. Tara tried to focus on reaching for one of the petals, on knowing without asking which one Willow would be reaching for at the same time, but the sweetness and warmth of the magnetic current between them drew her attention away again and again.

The rose shuddered in the air as they each individually tried to reach for its petals with the magic. It jerked towards Tara as she reached for it too eagerly. Finding Willow not yet ready to meet her, she lost her mental grip on the flower and it floated away from her. Plucking the petals wasn't as easy as she thought it might be. Their synchronicity had to be perfect.

She looked across the circle at Willow and saw her struggling with the same problem. Their eyes met and the intensity of their joining rippled through both of them. Tara felt it rising and growing, filling every cell of her body. She instinctively tightened her grip on Willow's hands and felt Willow reciprocate her action.

Tara began to let her head fall back, eyes fluttering closed, when she heard a wordless sound of surprise from Willow. Her eyes snapped open. The petals of the rose were beginning to open as the living force of their power flowed through the flower. Eager to see more, she tried to focus her magic on bringing the rose to full bloom.

The rose shot up in the air. She heard a soft pop and looked up just in time to see an explosion of red. She smiled as she felt a soft, silky petal kiss her cheek. The petals of the rose were falling all around them. She smiled crookedly and let out a sparkling laugh at the expression of surprise on Willow's face.

"What the heck was that?" Willow said in a shocked voice.

"I don't know," Tara said, still smiling. "But, uh, the petals are off."

She had planned to do some catching up on school work today and tomorrow as she was getting behind in her classes due to all the time she spent with Willow, but Giles had left a unusually serious message on her answering machine last night about this meeting. He hadn't said what it was going to be about, just to be at the library at 9 o'clock sharp on Saturday. With the Master gone and the vampire count still low at night, they hadn't had any meetings beyond a quick pre-patrol check in since their eventful encounter with his spectre at the library last week. In fact, Giles had been quite taciturn since he had visited her in the hospital.

As Tara slipped through the doors of the library, she was surprised at the absence of Spirit and Giles from the long table where they usually held their meetings. The library was unusually quiet as she looked around for Giles. She wondered if she had heard the message correctly as it was several minutes past 9 o'clock according to the clock on the wall. Giles was never late. Tara walked towards Giles' office, shivering a little as she recalled the events that had brought her there the last time.

The office door was closed and the small window in the door was covered so she couldn't see if he was in or not. She knocked on the door and waited a minute before hearing the sounds of someone getting up inside and approaching the door. The door opened and Mr. Giles looked out at her, appearing unusually serious even for him. "I was just trying to call you," he said with a frown. "You're late."

"I'm sorry," Tara apologized. "Is everything okay? Where's Spirit?"

"I wanted to talk with you alone today, Tara. Please come in." He moved out of the doorway and motioned her inside.

Tara entered his office, feeling like she'd been called in to the principal's office for doing something wrong but without any idea of what she might have done. Giles carefully shut the office door behind her so they would not be disturbed. He gestured to a chair beside one of the bookcases.

Tara sat down in it while he sat down in the chair behind his paper-strewn desk. He looked at her as if uncertain of where to start.

"Is everyone okay?" Tara asked anxiously. She had never seen Giles like this before. He always seemed imperturbable, prepared for anything and everything.

"Everyone is fine," he said soothingly, "But I have some things to tell you about Willow, and I'm not quite sure where to start."

Tara nervously wondered what he knew about Willow. She didn't know much about Willow's past, but she knew that Willow had been deeply involved with dark magic. It seemed almost unbelievable that someone so good could have done such things, but Tara herself had tried dark magic once.

Once.

There was a difference between making a single mistake and what Willow had done, but she could feel the pain and loss that Willow tried to hide from her. She knew there were reasons for Willow's dark past even if she didn't know what they were.

Giles had reacted so strangely when she had mentioned Willow's name in the hospital. She had almost forgotten that in the joy of her past week with Willow. What did he know? Her thoughts leading her back to Giles who was still silent, Tara prompted, "How about starting at the beginning?"

"I guess that is the best place to start," Giles mused, looking off into the distance for a moment as he thought again about how to tell Tara this story. He still wasn't sure what was best to do, but he had to follow his principles. Tara had a right to this knowledge about herself, and she couldn't make the right choices without knowing this.

"I met Willow at the old Sunnydale High about 25 years ago," Giles began. "It was when I came to Sunnydale to be watcher for my first slayer."

"Twenty-five years ago?" Tara interrupted with an incredulous look on her face. "That can't be Willow. She's close to my age." Giles must be mistaken. He hadn't even met her Willow.

"She may look your age Tara," Giles said very seriously. "But she's not. Willow is an experienced witch with more power than you can imagine." He looked significantly at Tara, trying to impress upon her the import of his words.

Tara met his gaze uneasily, unsure of what to believe. Willow looked like she was twenty. How could she look like that and be as old as Giles claimed she was?

"She was a sophomore in high school when I met her," he continued. "She hadn't yet learned about witchcraft, but she was there to help us from the beginning. She was always willing to help us, whether with research or in directly confronting one of the evils that regularly assailed Sunnydale."

Tara was still trying to take in the idea that Willow was so much older than her as Giles continued with his story. She wanted to voice more objections, but something about the tone of Giles voice compelled her to listen to what he was saying.

"She later learned about witchcraft so she could help us even more," Giles said, continuing his story. "I'm afraid that I encouraged her too much in this or at least didn't warn her strongly enough about the dangers." He looked almost guiltily at Tara, then he looked away as he continued with his story. "She was so bright and talented that I thought she could bear the burden. Eventually we needed her so much that I couldn't refuse her help even when she began delving into the dark magicks, but I'm getting ahead of myself."

He took off his glasses and polished them for a moment, his eyes distant while he tried to find his place in the story again. He thought about those dark magicks and wondered if they would soon be directed at him when Willow learned of what he had told Tara. The last time they had met she had saved his life even though she had killed so many others.

He wasn't sure that he would be spared this time and there was little he could do against Willow. His words would be the only shield he had, but he loved Tara like a daughter and he couldn't let her walk into the darkness blindly. If he had failed Willow, and he suspected he had, then perhaps he could redeem himself by not failing Tara this time.

Tara watched Giles anxiously after his remark about dark magicks. She shifted her weight nervously in her chair as he fell silent.

"Willow chose to attend UC Sunnydale so she could stay and help us," he said, placing his glasses back on his face. "I was so proud of her willingness to help others. There were some difficult times for all of us that first year of university, but I think it was hardest for her. However, she adjusted and fell deeply in love with someone very special. I didn't see it at first, but when I did I saw that they were meant for each other."

Her heart contracted painfully as Giles's words reverberated in her ears. Meant for each other. That's how she felt about Willow. They were so different, yet they shared this ineffable sense of connection. And her dreams. How could Willow be meant for someone else?

Giles paused, having difficulty continuing. They had been so beautiful together--even with the vampires and the demons--until that one terrible afternoon his story was inexorably approaching. It all related so directly to this young woman in front of him, yet she hadn't the slightest clue about how his story related to her. He didn't know how Tara would react when he told her everything. Could it really work out so well again? Could he forgive Willow for what she had done even if it did?

"The next year we faced the most dangerous opponent that we had ever met--Glory, a hellgod," he said, resuming the story. Catching Tara's look of disbelief, he nodded to her. "Yes, she really was a god. She was all but invincible and Buf...the slayer couldn't beat her. She could barely slow her down."

"The only one of us who could do anything was Willow. She saved our lives more than once, but she had to delve deeper into dark magic each time to do so. The worst was when Glory took the mind of Willow's lover, leaving her alive but helpless and insane." He had felt so helpless at the hospital that day, and he could only imagine how Willow had felt.

Tara gasped, her heart aching for Willow's loss even though she wanted Willow to be hers. No wonder Willow didn't like talking about her past. She didn't know what she would do if something happened to Willow and she had only known her for a few weeks.

Giles paused a moment to watch Tara's reaction intently. "Willow had just had an argument with her lover and took it badly," he continued, having seen no signs of past memories surfacing in Tara. "She blamed herself. With her lover in the hospital, Willow sought out Glory for revenge, armed with the darkest magicks she could find. She hurt the hellgod, but only the slayer's intervention saved her. Willow seemed to calm down after that but I think that she still blamed herself, both for the fight and not for being strong enough to stop Glory."

Tara finally understood why Willow had turned to dark magicks. It was a terrible mistake, but one she could understand. Willow must have been hurting so badly that night. Maybe she had even wanted to die in that confrontation, thinking that she had nothing left to lose.

"We left town to escape Glory and survived with the help of Willow's magicks," Giles said. "But even she couldn't stop Glory from taking Dawn, the slayer's sister. We defeated Glory with Willow's help, but the slayer had to die to close the portal. In a single night, Willow got her lover's sanity back, and she lost her best friend." That had been one of the darkest days of all their lives, but Buffy had saved the world again and he had been proud of her sacrifice no matter how much he wished she hadn't done it.

"No more," Tara pleaded, holding up her hand to stop Giles from continuing the story. She had heard enough. His words were like blades, stabbing into her with each tragic event that he described.

"Tara," Giles said, his eyes understanding but also determined. "I know it's a painful story to hear. It's a painful story to tell too." His mouth twisted. He couldn't even bring himself to say Buffy's name aloud after so many years. He knew how it hurt, but he knew it would hurt her more when she learned everything. She had to know just the same. "This story is important to you, and not just for what I have to tell you about Willow. Please stay and listen."

Tara nodded, unable to bring herself to speak but accepting his judgement. He had always been there to help her in the past. She trusted him.

"Over the summer," he continued. "Willow led us on patrol every night in place of her dead friend. Unbeknownst to me, she also spent much of her time researching a way to resurrect the slayer. The day I left Sunnydale, she brought her friend back to life." He had been proud of Willow's leadership, but the pride had turned bitter when he learned that she had been planning Buffy's resurrection behind his back the whole time.

Tara's eyes widened in shocked surprise as she heard about the resurrection. "That's not possible!" she exclaimed. She had tried and what she had brought back before breaking the spell hadn't resembled her mother in any way but physically. She had believed her books after that about the inevitable failure of raising the dead.

"I never heard of a successful resurrection until then," Giles admitted. "But Willow did it even though she was attacked by a group of demon bikers while she was casting. They almost killed her and her friends. However, the slayer's soul had been in heaven and she wasn't happy to be back."

He had been so happy to have Buffy back, but the risks Willow had taken were tremendous and she hadn't realized that. He hadn't been able to get through to her, and he had been so focused on Buffy's return that he hadn't spent enough time trying. Yet it was bitterly ironic that the one spell that he had convinced her not to cast, the one to locate the source of the M'fashnik demon, would have led them to Warren and his colleagues before they could have caused much harm. It might have prevented Tara's death at Warren's hands later.

Tara suddenly understood why Willow had reacted so strongly to protect her from the biker demons at the cemetary. Every step Willow had taken into the darkness had a reason behind it. Willow hadn't chosen dark magicks for herself, but to protect and help her friends.

"Meanwhile," Giles continued. "Willow was using magic heavily to deal with even the most trivial problems. She used magic to interface with her computer, even to create decorations for a party. Magic became the solution to every problem for her. She was proud of her ability, unable to accept anyone's suggestion that she might be using it too much. Finally, she cast a spell on her lover to stop a quarrel between them. I suspect she was terrified of a fight between them after what had happened the first time they had argued, but her lover found out about the spell and left her."

Tara's eyes filled with surprised hurt, appalled that Willow had cast a spell on her lover. While it wasn't easy to accept her use of dark magicks, that was something Tara already knew about. She hadn't thought Willow capable of this kind of intimate betrayal. While there were many things that Willow hadn't told her, Willow had never lied to her even when the truth was uncomfortable.

"She lost the very thing she was trying so desperately to keep," he said with a frown, raising an eyebrow slightly. "But after a dark period, Willow gave up magic and got her life back together." He regretted not being there for her. It must have been so hard for her to change her life all by herself. Perhaps events would have turned out differently if he had been there.

Tara leaned closer to better hear his story, hopeful that something might turn out right at last.

Giles took a deep breath as he began the truly difficult part of the story, about those few days that had changed Willow from a wonderful young woman with a bright future to one of the darkest forces that walked the Earth. "Her lover returned to her, but-" he said, cutting his eyes to the side as if he could not bear to look at her and finish his sentence.

After a long pause, he resumed the story, his voice choked with emotion and his eyes full of pain and sorrow. "The next day her lover was shot by an assassin attempting to kill the slayer. For reasons I don't comprehend, when she tried the resurrection spell again, it failed her when she needed it the most."

Tara wanted to look away, to close her ears to what she was hearing as Giles relentlessly piled tragedy after tragedy upon her, loss following loss in quick succession. Willow had made mistakes, but she hadn't deserved all the tragedies that befell her. No one did.

"Afterwards, she went to the magic shop and absorbed all the dark magicks there, then killed the assassin with that power before going after his accomplices in crime," Giles said. "We were barely able to save them from her. In the end, she defeated us all and went on to try to destroy the world to end her pain. In some ways, I don't blame her for that." He smiled bitterly at Tara. "I think that the grief along with the dark magic she had absorbed had driven her mad by that point, but somehow her best friend Xander managed to talk her out it." Giles paused, shaking his head as he said, "I still have a difficult time believing how that worked out." He thought again to himself that if he hadn't left or if he had just returned sooner, none of those things need have happened.

Tara turned away from Giles, unable to bear hearing any more of his tragic story. She let the curtain of her golden hair hide her face. Everything had turned out so dark. She recalled the fervency of Willow's embrace in the hospital, and knew now that that had been the first time her friend had been able to lay down all the pain she had suffered. She was torn by what she had just heard, agonizing over what Willow had done, yet at the same time feeling the pain that had driven Willow to such extremes. She wished she could take Willow in her arms right now and take away all that pain.

Giles saw Tara turn away and knew what she must be feeling, but there was still more and worse to come. "Afterwards," he continued. "Willow seemed normal or as normal as someone could be after all that trauma. She left Sunnydale immediately after the funeral. A few years later I began hearing rumors about a nameless dark witch who was seeking information about necromancy and would stop at nothing to learn how to bring back the dead. I became almost certain it was Willow when the Watcher's Council called me to England to meet about the dark witch."

She turned back to Giles, still looking down to let her hair shield her face as if it could protect her from the pain of what she was learning. "Watcher's Council?" she asked, her voice a little rough as it came from her tight throat.

"Yes, there used to be enough watchers to have a council," he said, his eyes dark. "When I arrived at the Watcher's Council that night, I found the castle in ruins and everyone, all the guards, watchers, and researchers, dead. In the library below the castle, I met Willow for the last time. She freely admitted to destroying the Council and told me of her quest to resurrect her dead lover. I left and I never saw her again."

That night had convinced him that Willow had fallen into darkness forever, but looking into Tara's blue eyes as he told his story showed him a light that could pierce the darkness if any could. He could tell that she already loved Willow, but how would she feel once he told her everything? He still didn't know which he wanted, for them to be together with all the risks that entailed or to be apart with Tara safe but with Willow lost in darkness forever.

Tara's face paled as Giles told her about the destruction of the Council. She had seen Willow's fury unleashed on the demons in the graveyard, but she couldn't believe that someone so gentle and loving as the Willow she knew would unleash that same power on people. She tried to think of some objection to voice to Giles to show him that Willow couldn't have done this, but he had been there and seen what Willow had done. More than anything though, she wanted to run to Willow for comfort.

Giles watched Tara's reactions to the story as he prepared to tell her the most difficult part. "Now I have to tell you how all this relates to you," he began.

"I think I know," Tara said bitterly. "You don't want me to see Willow again."

"That might be a good idea," Giles acknowledged, but then he shook his head. "That's not what I was going to say though," he continued. "Willow's lover died nineteen years ago. You were born nineteen years ago." He pulled open the desk drawer and pulled out a picture of a group of happy young people. Showing it to Tara, he pointed to the young blonde woman standing by a happy looking Willow who had green eyes and short red hair and said, "That's Tara Maclay, Willow's lover."

Tara's eyes widened in surprised recognition as she heard that name. She had seen it on a tombstone the night she had met Willow. An urgent thought nagged at her from the back of her mind. There was something important about Giles' comment about her age. She pushed it away. "So you're saying I'm a substitute for her?" she said.

"No," Giles said, looking at her steadily. "I'm saying that you are Tara Maclay."

She couldn't deny it any longer. Everything fit: Willow, the dreams, the picture, even her name. She had been Tara Maclay, Willow's lover. Her dreams were of the past, not the future. It was all too much.

Everything in Giles's story was about her. She was the lover who Willow had found and lost, only to die when they had found each other again. She was the reason behind Willow's dark quest.

When you read about this kind of thing in a story, it sounded so romantic. Two people meant to be in love, fated to be together in every lifetime. But when it happened to you it was so confusing, opening so many questions. Did they really love each other or were they simply toys of fate manipulated by an invisible hand?

Why hadn't Willow told her? Why had she waited so long to find her? There had been so many times in her life when she was needed someone by her side. Why hadn't Willow been there then? Maybe that wasn't fair. Maybe Willow didn't know about her until now. How had Willow found her now?

Did Willow really love her, Tara Lucas, or was she just a substitute like she'd asked Giles? Maybe Willow thought of her as just a vessel for the soul that she truly loved. Would Willow have loved her at all if she wasn't the reincarnation of Tara Maclay?

Then there were all the questions about herself. What kind of person had she been? You were supposed to learn from your past lives and become a better person, but what if she couldn't live up to the life that Tara Maclay had lived? Would Willow reject her when she realized that she wasn't that Tara?

She had so many questions, but Giles wasn't the person to answer them. While Willow held some of the answers, Tara knew that the most important place to look for the answers was within herself.

Giles observed the conflicting emotions running through Tara's face, wishing he could help her accept this but knowing that was something she had to do on her own. He could only be there for her to talk with and offer her his knowledge and experience.

Tara stood up, pushing away her chair. She had to get out of here and go someplace where she could think. Giles raised a hand as if to stop her and she shook her head, saying "No, I have to go."

He nodded, understanding though he wished she would stay. He was afraid she would go to Willow, and he didn't know how Willow would respond. It was clear that Willow hadn't told her about their shared past yet. "If you need to talk, I'll be here," he said earnestly, his eyes full of concern for her. "Be careful."

She pushed open the office door and fled the library without acknowledging his response, her pace increasing with every stride until she was running blindly away from the high school. If she could only run fast enough, she thought, she could somehow escape her thoughts, leaving them far behind where they couldn't trouble her.

She ran aimlessly through the town without stopping, letting the rhythmic sound of her tennis shoes slapping on the pavement drown out the thoughts in her head. Letting her feet guide her she found herself at the entrance of a familiar cemetery. She paused at the black iron gates for a moment then shrugged and walked inside, heading for the grave where she had first met Willow. Going to her grave.

Tara hadn't planned to come here, but her feet had brought her here seemingly of their own volition. She wasn't sure what she was afraid of as she walked up to the grave, keeping her gaze fixed on the earth by her feet. Perhaps it was that seeing that tombstone would make it all real.

Finally, she looked up towards the tombstone and read the inscription on it once more, taking in its significance for the first time as she read her first name and the date of death that matched the date of her birth. She noticed that there were fresh red roses at the foot of the tombstone and wondered if Willow had placed them there.

The flowers somehow made it more real than the tombstone alone would have. The tombstone was old and dead, a remnant of the past, but the roses were new and still living like her. She reached down and picked up a rose, bringing it up to her nose to inhale its scent. As she did so, she felt a thorn prick her finger and as she looked down she saw a single drop of her blood fall to the grave at her feet.

She was connected by more than blood to the young woman who lay buried here. In a way, they were one. Through her dreams, she shared some of her predecessor's experiences. They both had blonde hair and blue eyes, sharing the same crooked smile. They both had come to Sunnydale. And they both had fallen in love with Willow.

But that had ended so badly. Would it end that way for her too? Would they have to go through all the same tragedies and heartbreak again? Life had seemed so simple and joyful at breakfast this morning but even though it was not yet noon, her life felt more complicated than she could bear.

Hearing soft footsteps behind her she turned around, knowing that it was Willow, yet at the same time not knowing who she would see. Would it be the young girl who fell in love with her past self, or would it be the dark witch of Giles's story who had almost destroyed the world in her grief?

She turned and saw Willow still dressed in the cheery red long-sleeved shirt that she had worn this morning. It didn't seem right. She had almost expected to see the black-clad witch she had met in the graveyard that first night. Was this really the same person she had left at the bagel shop a few hours ago?

Were the lines on her face deeper, older than she had noticed this morning? Were those the same slender hands that had held her so tenderly or were they the hands that had shattered stone and crushed flesh? Did the darkness of her shadow trail further behind her than it should have?

Tara felt so lost as she looked at Willow, not knowing who she was herself much less who this person was that she thought she had known so well this morning. Her feelings evident in her eyes, she asked her first, most important question.

"Who am I?"

Chapter 14: Who Am I?

Willow smiled as she watched Tara walk off to her meeting, the morning sun transforming her long hair into a stream of golden fire. She was so beautiful and she didn't even realize it. It was well worth getting up early and eating healthy food just to see Tara.

Her smile broadened as she recalled their first kiss over a week before. It had been soft and sweet and long. So long. And Tara had kissed her. Her life had changed in that moment. Hope had blossomed into joy.

She was getting her life back, the life she had lost so long ago in a single instant of time. The deep wound in her heart was beginning to close, allowing her feelings to return to her like sap returning to the branches of a rosebush after the long dormancy of a cold, barren winter. The promise of spring, of rebirth and renewal, was here for her in the form of Tara. The end of winter was in sight.

She smiled again as she walked down the street. The world that had seemed so empty and meaningless only a few weeks ago was bright with morning sun and filled with relaxed people going about their Saturday morning business. Her smile faded as she wondered, not for the first time, how she would fit back into the everyday life of the world. As far as the rest of the world knew, Willow Rosenberg had disappeared many years ago and was presumed dead. She didn't have a driver's license, work history, or even a passport as she simply hadn't needed such things in years past.

She shook her head to clear out the worries. She had Tara back. Everything else was going to be easy. She couldn't help herself from grinning as she told herself again that she had Tara back. Every day was wonderful, starting with breakfast together at the bagel place then either talking together or waiting for Tara to get out of morning classes so they could meet for lunch.

She usually read in the afternoons, catching up on the world she had missed as she waited for Tara to get out of class so they could have dinner together. After dinner, they would work on spells together. Her grin expanded as she recalled how that usually turned into wonderfully long, slow sessions of kissing and caressing each other. The only part that wasn't perfect was leaving Tara at night, but she was content to let Tara control the pace of their burgeoning relationship.

Looking up, Willow realized that she had reached the bookshop where she had planned to spend her time waiting for Tara to return from her meeting. She walked through the bookstore, enjoying the feel of being just another customer as no one paid any particular attention to her. She ignored the occult section in favor of history. She found a comfy chair and quickly became engrossed in one of the many new books that had been published while she had been focused solely on the dark arts.

Time passed quickly as she read about the resolution of the Middle East crisis. It had all seemed so important then. Now it was just a detail of history. All that effort had been expended uselessly. Her thoughts were broken off by the churning of her stomach. In retrospect, she realized that it had been bothering her for a few minutes, but she had been too focused to notice at the time. She rubbed her belly uneasily as she wondered what might have caused the upset when she suddenly realized it was Tara who was upset, not her. What could be happening at that meeting?

She forced herself to stare back down at her book and read several pages before realizing that she hadn't taken in any of what she had just read. She couldn't concentrate with this feeling. It was growing stronger. Putting the book down on the table beside her chair, she stood up.

She didn't want to see Giles just yet, but if Tara was this upset she had to go find her. She quickly left the bookstore and focused on Tara's location; she was moving quickly away from the school. Willow began to run to try to catch up with Tara, wondering where she was going and why she was so distressed.

As she walked through the black iron gates of the cemetery where Tara was buried, Willow had a sinking feeling. As her sense of Tara's location guided her towards the familiar grave site, her feelings were confirmed. Giles had told her either about Willow's past or her own. She didn't know exactly what he had said to Tara, but she was already furious. How dare he try to break them apart after all they had gone through?

Her fists clenched as she saw Tara at the top of the hill looking down at her own tombstone. Giles had been willing to inflict all that pain on Tara just to hurt her for what she had done. Maybe Willow deserved the pain, but Tara certainly didn't. Her dark eyes flashed as she thought about what she wanted to do to him. She should have let him die underneath the Watcher's Council all those years ago. Instead she had saved his life and this was how he repaid her.

Taking deep breaths as she slowly walked up the hill, Willow tried to calm herself. She could deal with Giles' betrayal later. Now she had to focus on Tara. What was she thinking now? Was she horrified by what she had learned about Willow's past? Her heart pounded loudly in her chest as she thought about Tara turning away from her.

What could she say to reassure Tara? She had thought many times about how to tell Tara of her past, but the words in her mind had never felt right. No matter how poor her words, it would have been better if Tara had heard this from her. Her past was horrifying, but there had been so much that was good about their past, before all the darkness.

It had all been her fault. If she hadn't driven Tara away, then she wouldn't have been standing in front of the window that afternoon. They probably would have caught Warren earlier if they had stayed together. This time she would do everything right. She would stay together with Tara and protect her no matter what. Now she had to walk up that hill and tell Tara that.

She told herself again and again that everything would be okay no matter what Giles had told Tara. She walked up to the grave where Tara was standing, her back to Willow as she looked down at her own tombstone. As she approached, Tara turned towards her and looked at her like she was seeing her for the first time. Tara's eyes lingered on her face, on her shirt, on her hands, before trailing away to look behind her.

When Tara's eyes returned to her face, she looked incredibly lost. "Who am I?" she asked, almost breaking Willow's heart.

"You're Tara," Willow answered, "You're always Tara."

"I'm not her!" Tara shouted, her eyes wild. She refused to let her identity be subsumed by the past. She was just beginning to learn who she was--daughter, friend, and maybe even lover. She couldn't bear it if Willow had only come for the past Tara and not her, but she couldn't give up all that she was and could be even for Willow.

"You are and you aren't," Willow answered, her eyes unreadable behind dark glasses. She forced her voice to remain steady, her face calm, as she spoke, feeling as if she was walking along a tightrope. The slightest misstep could send them both plunging into the abyss. If she could only find the right words, she could coax Tara back to safety.

"Is she the one you're looking for?" Tara demanded forcefully, striving to pull some sort of emotional response out of Willow. Her body trembled as a tempest of conflicting emotions raged within her. She was drowning in this storm of doubts and fears, her identity dissolving in a sea of uncertainty, while Willow stood there calm and collected, unaffected by her struggle as if she hadn't even noticed it, much less cared about it.

"You are the one I'm looking for," Willow said, the desperation of her fears of losing Tara breaking through her defences to be heard in her voice. The iron walls she'd erected to hold back her feelings had stood solidly for many years, but they were failing her now, betrayed from within by the strength of her feelings for Tara.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tara raged, her blue eyes flashing with anger, the fury of a storm within her unabated. The hints of emotion she'd heard in Willow's voice inspired her to dig deeper, to claw her way through the walls which hid Willow's elusive inner self.

"I wanted to wait for the right time," Willow said, pulling off her sunglasses and letting them fall unheeded to the ground. She struggled to hold her defences together despite the battering they were sustaining both from within and without. There was too much inside her to tell Tara all at once. She had to save both of them from the flood of words and feelings that would burst forth if the dam inside her broke.

"Was there ever going to be a right time?" Tara challenged, the storm of emotions within her not nearly spent yet.

"Yes," Willow said, her voice anguished as her walls continued to crumble under the assault of the storm. "I wanted you to come to me because you loved me, not because you felt obliged to. I wanted us to have her relationship based on us first, not on the past."

Willow had been too late then, too late to realize that she was driving Tara away, too late to win Tara back, and finally too late to realize that she didn't need a spell to resurrect Tara. She didn't have to make that mistake again. She couldn't hold back and calmly decide what was best to say to guide Tara through her crisis. She had to leave the protection of her walls behind and join Tara in the midst of the storm, having faith that they would find their way through it together.

"How did you find me?" Tara asked, the maelstrom of emotions raging within her slowly ebbing as she felt Willow begin to respond to her emotionally.

"The soul gem," Willow said softly. "It showed me that you were in Sunnydale, so I came back, then I met you here the night I arrived." She paused a moment before continuing. "I spent all those years trying to find you, and you were here all along." Willow smiled bitterly at the irony. So much time and effort and pain expended for nothing.

Tara felt the change in full now, a willing opening in Willow's defences where there had been none before. She realized that she wasn't lost alone in this sea of uncertainty. Willow was here with her. "How did I die?" Tara asked, trying to find how they had been parted before and understand what that meant for them now.

"We were talking in our bedroom," Willow said, her words coming faster with each breath as if she could avoid seeing the scene again in her mind's eye if she could just get the words out quickly enough. "I heard the clink of breaking glass and felt something warm splatter on to my shirt." She unconsciously brushed a hand across her shirt as if trying to wipe away that long ago stain.

"You fell. I tried to catch you ... You were gone so suddenly." Willow shook her head sharply. "I tried to bring you back, but I couldn't." Her voice breaking, the walls within her collapsing completely, Willow repeated, "I couldn't." She fell to her knees as tears began falling from her eyes, the first she'd shed since Tara's funeral. She looked into Tara's face pleadingly as she extended one hand towards her. "I'm so sorry."

Tara's heart broke as she saw all the sorrow and fear on Willow's face. It was as if she was afraid Tara would leave her for what had happened that long ago afternoon. She stepped closer to Willow and wrapped her arms tightly around her, letting Willow bury her face in her midriff.

It hadn't been Willow's fault. It hadn't even been the ending that Willow had thought it was. She had thought that Willow had all the answers, but now she knew that Willow was as lost as she and had been for so long. Kneeling down on the soft ground of the grave, Tara let Willow sob into her shoulder as she gently stroked her long hair.

As the dam holding back her tears shattered under the unbearable pressure within, Willow clung tightly to Tara as if she were the only safe harbor in the world, the only thing that could save her from drowning in her sorrow. Willow had lost so much, and she was afraid she was going to lose it all again today. Tara's death was her fault, as was everything that happened afterwards. How could Tara not blame her as she blamed herself? As she wept, she repeated "I'm sorry" over and over like a mantra.

Tara cradled Willow in her arms as sobs racked her slender form, comforting her with tender touches and soft wordless sounds of reassurance. It tore at her heart to see Willow this way, but she couldn't bring herself to murmur words of reassurance. She didn't know if everything was going to be okay. She didn't know if anything was going to be okay.

The storm's fury was diminishing, but she was still lost at sea, reeling from the revelation of her past. Their past. She held hope in her arms though. They were both lost, but they had found each other. That had to mean something.

Willow looked up into Tara's face, her eyes red and swollen from crying. "I'm sorry," she said once more.

Tara looked lovingly down into Willow's eyes and whispered softly, "It's not your fault."

Willow shook her head. "Not about that," she said, her voice still thick with tears. "I came here because I felt you were confused and upset, then I ended up crying all over you."

Tara gently stroked Willow's cheek. "It's okay," she said, her eyes full of compassionate understanding. She relaxed her arms around Willow.

Willow sat up, wiping tears from her eyes. She knew that she looked a mess, but she felt calmer, better, except her eyes were sore and her throat aching from the force of her sobs.

Tara tenderly brushed tears away from Willow's cheek. She didn't ask any more questions immediately, giving Willow time to recover. To be honest, she needed some time herself too.

Willow had seen her die.

The idea left her unsettled. She felt a sense of loss, but she wasn't sure what she had lost. It wasn't as if she could mourn her own passing. She was alive and well after all. Who had died that day?

Sadness intermingled with the confusion that dominated her feelings, but she didn't know who she had to feel sad about. She was herself, wasn't she? But was she also that Tara? All that she had of the past were her dreams. And Willow.

And Willow.

"I know remembering that time is hard for you, but can I ask some more questions?" Tara asked quietly, looking back up at Willow.

Willow's eyes were shadowed with worry, her heart full of trepidation, but she nodded assent anyway. Tara had to know. They had to build their relationship in the light, no matter how scared Willow was of what Tara would see when she could no longer hide who she was in the darkness.

"Did you kill the person who shot me?" Tara asked.

"Yes," Willow confessed, forcing herself to meet Tara's eyes. She couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for that deed. It had been justice, not simply revenge, but as she looked into the shattered innocence of Tara's eyes, she regretted what her choice had done to them both.

"I tried to kill his accomplices," she continued, standing up and crossing her arms. Her tense fingers dug into the sides of her arms as she gripped them tightly. Willow looked down at the grave as she spoke. "I absorbed more power, and its darkness consumed me." She bit her lip. "I tried to end the world, to stop everyone's pain and suffering along with my own." Willow broke off and looked into the distance as she tried to find the words to make sense of all this for Tara.

"I ... I wasn't myself then," Willow said. "That's no excuse. I chose the actions that led me to that point so I have to accept their consequences." She paused a moment, unbuttoning the cuff of her shirt and rolling up the sleeve to show Tara the long pale scar that ran from her wrist to her elbow. She continued, "And afterwards, I tried to kill myself." She kept her gaze firmly on the ground.

Tara had hoped it all wasn't true. But it was. She stumbled back away from Willow until she backed into the tombstone. She sank down beside it, running one hand along the cool, smooth marble surface.

The cold stone reminded her of why Willow had done these things. It was her death that had set these events in motion. She couldn't think any more about that right now though. Yet what had happened? The murderer had been killed, his accomplices pursued, but the world hadn't ended. Despite all of her grief, Willow had backed away from that terrible deed on her own.

Tara looked down at the scar marring the smooth skin of Willow's arm. Willow had tried to die in order to atone for her sins. Tara couldn't hate her. She used her hands on the gravestone to pull herself up. With a few steps, she closed the distance between them that had seemed immeasurable only a few moments ago.

She stood there a moment looking at Willow, trying to gather her courage. She was afraid. There was so much darkness in Willow's past. Their past. Yet her heart had a bravery all its own, a willingness to risk in defiance of her doubts and fears.

She gently pulled Willow's chin up so that Willow had to look into her eyes. "I'm not leaving you," she said, gazing steadily into the darkness of Willow's eyes.

Willow's eyes were bleak as they met Tara's. "That's not all," she said, shaking her head against Tara's gentle touch. She wished it was that easy, that she'd had told the worst already. She didn't want to tell Tara the rest, but their new beginning had to be based in trust and truth. Deception had lost her Tara once before, and she had gotten her back too late.

"I killed people," she said, her voice low and barely audible. She swallowed and looked away before continuing. "The Watchers sent a team to kill me. I killed them, then destroyed the Council of Watchers. That's why Giles hates me, even though I saved his life there."

Her eyes dropped to the ground, unwilling to meet Tara's. She had come closer than she had expected, but she knew that this revelation would be too much. Now Tara would look at her with loathing in her eyes.

Tara cupped Willow's cheek, causing Willow to look up with a tiny flicker of hope in her eyes. Tara met her gaze and saw not a terrible dark witch, but a young girl, so lost and alone. There had been more to the story than Mr. Giles had told her, but it was what she saw in those dark eyes that decided her. "I won't say that everything is fine, that I'm not scared," she said. "But I'm not leaving you."

"I-" Willow began, then swallowed. "You're scared?" she asked in a small voice. "Of me?"

"Of the darkness," Tara said, her eyes hooded. Willow had shown her the depths of the darkness within her. It had been darker than Tara had imagined, and it scared her. But this was Willow here before her.

"What can I do?" Willow asked, taking Tara's hand in both of hers and pleading with her eyes for Tara to give her an answer.

Tara looked away from Willow but didn't pull her hand out of Willow's grasp as she struggled with Willow's question. Her love of Willow warred with her fear of Willow's darkness rising up to consume them all. If only she could be certain that the darkness was solely of the past.

"Can you promise not to use dark magic?" Tara asked cautiously. She didn't want Willow to see this as an ultimatum, but her heart needed hope that the darkness was behind them.

Willow looked down thoughtfully, releasing Tara's hand. She knew there would always be a reason for dark magic, to defend, to protect, or to restore. Yet when had it ever been able to restore something to her without a terrible price? The real question was whether she trusted. Did she trust life and love enough to hope again?

"I tried to bring you back," she said, her eyes distant. "I tried so hard." She had spent so much effort, suffered so much pain, as she journeyed into the darkness for that attempt, but darkness hadn't brought love back to her. She shook her head sadly. "Yet you were here all along." When she looked back at Tara, there was a depth of trust in Willow's dark eyes that Tara had never seen before.

"You mean?" Tara asked, daring to hope as she looked into Willow's eyes.

"I mean," Willow said, a brilliant smile beginning to form on her face. "I promise."

Tara took Willow's hand, her touch a promise in itself. She was spent of words, her heart calm for now.

Hand in hand, they walked away from the grave of the past.

Chapter 15: Old Friends

As the door to Tara's room closed behind her, Willow's chest tightened, constricting her breathing. While she was in there with Tara, she could believe that everything would work out after what had happened today in the cemetery, but as she walked away, she felt that belief slipping away from her. How could Tara want to be with her?

With each step down the corridor away from Tara's room, she felt colder. Tara was her sun and she was a lonely comet that had shone gloriously in her reflected light but which was now receding ever further away from the source of its splendor.

Willow walked out of the dorm into the quiet twilight of the UC Sunnydale campus. It was mostly empty, with a few students hurrying back to their dorms before the sunlight was completely gone. The desolate campus mirrored her mood.

Why couldn't she trust that Tara would love her no matter what? She was so uncertain. She tried to reassure herself that Tara had seen the depths of her darkness today and not rejected her, but Tara had left her for less once before. And Tara had been taken from her. Twice. How would she react once she had time to think about what she'd learned today?

Another problem came to mind. Did Tara understand what she had asked Willow to give up today? Willow was confident that she could handle herself in any situation, but Tara didn't have her protections and now could never have them. The spells that protected Willow from time and wounds were blood sacrifices. Admittedly, the sacrifice was a demon, not a person, but even the most liberal interpretation of her promise prohibited her from using those spells.

Willow didn't mind the thought of growing old with Tara; in fact, she loved the idea. However, she wanted Tara to live long enough to grow old with her and that wasn't a given on the Hellmouth. On the other hand, drawing the runes of protection in demon ichor on Tara's body wasn't an idea she relished. She shuddered as she recalled the pain of the demon's blood burning into her own flesh and the soul-deep coldness that had remained after the pain ebbed away.

She wished that they didn't have so much history between them, that they lived someplace safe where they didn't have to worry about vampires and demons. But it wasn't that simple to make wishes come true, and even when they did, you didn't always get what you expected.

Once the spell of summoning was complete, the demon of the wish appeared in a cloud of smoke confined within the boundaries of the circle she had prepared for it. In her head, Willow once again went over the wish she had prepared as she calmly waited for the smoke to dissipate.

"Anya!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise as the smoke cleared, revealing the demon she had conjured.

"Anyanka," the demon corrected her in its rough voice. Its hideously scarred visage made it clear that this wasn't the young woman she had known in Sunnydale. Once more, she wore the silver and black stone talisman of the wish.

"I didn't summon you-" Willow began.

"You called a vengeance demon," Anyanka said in an even tone. "I'm a vengeance demon. I chose to answer the call."

"How?"

"d'Hoffryn offered me my job back after Xander dumped me," Anyanka answered brusquely. The impatient look the demon gave Willow would have scared someone less determined. "Now your wish? I have other customers, you know."

Willow paused a moment, then rejected her original plan to extract a wish. A wish granted willingly would work better than one tricked or coerced out of the demon. She and Anya had never liked each other, but Tara had been Anya's friend. Even as a demon again, Willow didn't think Anya would willingly harm Tara.

"You know what I want," Willow said, looking into Anya's eyes, searching for the person who had been Tara's friend.

"I know," Anyanka nodded. Though her voice was steady, her eyes betrayed the sadness and loss normally hidden behind the inhuman visage.

"Can you do it?" Willow asked, reassured by what she saw in Anya's eyes. Little was written about what vengeance demons could accomplish, but she only needed the smallest of changes to the past to save Tara. Surely a wish could accomplish what she wanted.

"I can change the past enough to save Tara," Anyanka answered in her rough voice. "There will be a price though. Reality is a complex web of threads, and even the smallest change to one affects all the others."

"Don't you control that?" Willow asked, her brow furrowed as she regarded Anya suspiciously.

"To some extent," Anyanka said. "But it's not that simple. My talisman is a conduit to the lower beings who have the power to reweave the fabric of reality. The final choice is theirs. I've seen what can happen when you try to help someone without hurting anyone." Her face twisted and she turned away from Willow.

Surprised by Anya's reaction, Willow reached out to touch her, breaking the protection of the magic circle. "Your heart's not in the vengeance anymore, is it?" Willow asked softly in a surprised tone of voice, finding more sympathy for Anya than she ever had before. They shared something now in their loss and solitude.

"What do you care?" Anyanka snapped as she turned back to Willow.

Willow jerked her hand away from Anya's arm, stung by her words.

"You don't care about anyone but yourself," Anyanka said harshly. "You left all your friends behind without a word. Xander's been worried sick about-"

"Like you care about Xander," Willow interrupted hotly.

"I do," Anyanka said, her voice softening. Her eyes were full of pain. "I just can't be with him. I can't take that risk again."

"Even if you're not willing to risk again, I am," Willow said. "Help me get Tara back." Her tone softened with those words as her eyes pleaded with Anya to help her.

"There will be a price," Anyanka warned again, but her tone was businesslike. "What's your wish?"

"I wish Tara hadn't been in the path of any of Warren's bullets the day Warren shot Buffy," Willow said, stating the wish she had carefully prepared. It was simple and direct, affecting only the proximate cause of Tara's death so there was little the demon could do to twist her words.

"Done," Anyanka said, her tone final.

Everything faded out of focus.

The world changed.

As the room came back into focus, Willow found herself exactly as she was before the wish. She looked down and saw that was dressed the same, standing by the same circle of protection where she had made her wish.

Where was Tara?

Shouldn't they be back in Sunnydale together? Why was she still here?

As Willow looked around the room again, she suddenly realized what she had seen, but not taken in at first. The demonic form of Anyanka had been replaced by Anya, the pretty young woman she had known from Sunnydale. There was no sign of the demon's talisman that carried the power of the wish.

"What happened?" Willow asked in a strangled voice. "Where is she?"

"Tara broke my talisman to reverse the wish," Anya answered, sounding shocked and saddened, but there was a hint of relief underlying that as if she didn't mind losing her demonhood.

"Why?" Willow asked, her face a mask of anguished shock. She reached for the wall to support herself.

"You were the one standing in front of the window that day. Warren shot you instead of Tara," Anya explained, her voice distant as she tried to recall a world that no longer existed, one that only she remembered. "Both you and Buffy died, but not before you mentioned something about wishing to Tara. Tara figured it out quickly and came to me. I tried to explain to her why you had made the wish, but she didn't care. She said that she would die for you."

"And she did," Willow said. She bent over, sick with grief, covering her face with her hands, pressing hard to force her incipient tears back.

Wishes were tricky and subtle. She hadn't tried another after that. It had been too much to have Tara back then lose her again, even in an alternate reality that she couldn't remember and hadn't survived in.

She had helped Anya find her way back to Sunnydale. The wish had been her fault, not Anya's. She wondered if Anya had gotten back together with Xander. Were they still together? Did they have a normal life with a house and children now?

She found herself missing her old friends more and more often now that she had Tara back in her life. It would be good to have friends to talk to about what had happened today. That wasn't possible, but there was one person she could talk to who had once been a friend, the person who had caused all of this.

She definitely had things to say to him.

Standing in front of Giles's apartment door in the fading twilight, Willow raised a hand as if to cast a spell. She paused a moment to reconsider with her hand still in the air, shook her head, and knocked on it sharply three times instead.

After a few moments, Giles answered the door and looked at her without surprise. Then he stood back and beckoned her inside, "Come in, Willow."

Disarmed by his welcome, Willow entered the apartment's living room without saying a word. It was much like his old one, comfortable yet neatly organized with the exception of a few books on the coffee table. Bookcases full of familiar tomes lined the walls as always but there was a collection of music disks on one shelf which implied that Giles might be entering the 20th century a little too late.

He closed the door behind her. "Would you like some tea?" he asked. "The water's already hot." His eyes flicked away from her quickly, never quite meeting hers.

Turning back to face him, she examined his expression closely before nodding her assent. He looked old, his hair completely silver and his face lined from all the nights he'd spent worrying about the fate of the world. She wondered what he thought about the contrast with her own youthful appearance. As she thought about this, Giles hurried from the room to fetch the tea from the kitchen.

As she gazed around the room, she thought that this conversation wasn't starting at all as she expected. It felt like a dream where she was back in college visiting Giles for advice as she always did when something was wrong. Any minute now, Buffy and Xander would come through that door, talking and joking. Giles would come from the kitchen with tea and snacks, chiding them about their lack of seriousness, and soon they would all be buried in musty old tomes, figuring out how to defeat the latest evil to trouble Sunnydale.

Then Giles did return, breaking her fantasy. Buffy would never come through those doors again. She was dead. Xander was gone. Giles was no longer her friend and mentor. They would never get back together. He was a stranger to her now, someone who had betrayed her and hurt Tara.

He gestured for her to sit down on the couch as he carried a white ceramic pot of tea and two steaming cups on a tray into the room. Once she sat down, he placed one cup of tea on a saucer in front of her. Giles put the tray with the pot of tea on the other end of the coffee table, taking his own tea and sitting down in a chair facing her. Willow picked up her cup and took a sip of tea to gain some time.

They watched each other silently for several moments, both of them slowly sipping their tea. "It's been a long time," Giles finally said.

"I never wanted to come back here, Giles," Willow replied. She wasn't sure whether she was attempting to apologize for returning to Sunnydale or trying to explain why she hadn't returned earlier. Her jaw tightened as she decided she didn't care; he didn't deserve her apologies or explanations.

Her hand trembled, almost spilling her tea. She looked furiously at the betraying hand until it became steady again. She couldn't show any weakness in front of Giles.

"No, I don't imagine you did," Giles said thoughtfully without seeming to notice the tremor. "But when you learned about Tara, what else could you do?"

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Giles. "How long have you known?" she asked.

"I only discovered the truth about Tara in the last week," he confessed. "I felt rather embarrassed when I finally figured it out. It was so obvious and she had been right there in front of my eyes for months." He shrugged. "But who expects this kind of thing to happen?"

His nonchalant attitude infuriated her. She'd had enough of pretending that this was a friendly social call. She slammed down her cup, spilling tea onto the coffee table and cracking the saucer underneath the cup. "Why?" she asked angrily. "Why did you do it? Do you hate me so much that you would hurt her to get to me?"

Giles stiffened at her accusation. He stared at her coldly for a moment before answering in a deliberately calm voice. "I don't hate you, Willow, but Tara needed to know the truth about her past and yours. She-"

Willow pulled off her sunglasses, revealing dark eyes that flashed angrily at Giles as she interrupted him, "You mean you told her your version of the truth. You left out so much, including the fact that I saved your life at the Watcher's Council."

He jumped up from his chair, his face flushed with anger. "How dare you try to claim credit for saving one life on a night where you killed scores of people?" he shouted. "You destroyed the culmination of centuries of work fighting the darkness and you sit there claiming that you did something good."

Willow stood up slowly, dark energies crackling between her fingers. "They were corrupt and dark as what they claimed to fight," she said coldly. "Anyway, it was them or me. I chose me."

A short barking laugh came from Giles. "And when it comes to a choice between you and Tara," he said. "Who will you choose then?"

The darkness in Willow's eyes grew as she stared at him, swallowing up the traces of white at the edges of her eyes. "I love her more than the world," she said in a still colder voice. Deliberately she advanced on Giles, one slow step at a time, the dark energies arcing up her forearms. "She's my everything," she said. "I'd die before hurting her."

Giles backed away from her until the backs of his legs hit the chair behind him. Then his eyes softened as he looked at her. "I know you love her Willow," he said sadly. "But are you the right person for her? You're not the young woman I knew so long ago. Even though you don't want to hurt her, what will become of her if you bring her into your darkness?" He held his breath as he watched for Willow's reaction.

Looking down and opening her hands, Willow grounded the energies with an explosive crackling sound. When she looked back at Giles, the darkness in her eyes had receded to its normal extent. "She's my only hope, Giles," she said in a lost voice. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost her again."

He extended a hand to console her, but she ducked away from his touch. Her gaze cold once again, she said in a toneless voice, "I can't leave her." She looked down for a long moment before adding in a more normal voice, "Magic couldn't bring her back, but fate has. This was meant to be, Giles. It will work out." Under her breath so that only she could hear, she added softly, "It has to." With those words, she picked up her sunglasses and left his apartment.

Giles stood silently as he watched her leave, his uncertainty about how he had handled this situation obvious in his eyes. After he watched her walk out of sight, he closed the door and went to the telephone.

He had some calls to make.

Amy pushed her chair back and rubbed her eyes. They were dry and achy after hours of laborious translation. The rite was almost complete though. There were only a few more fragments to translate and piece together.

The spell would shake the foundations of Sunnydale as no previous apocalypse ever had. It would be more than enough to impress the Master. And it would push him another step closer to his doom. She was beginning to understand the dangers of the Heart. It would inevitably consume the Master, but by that time she should know how to shield herself from its corrupting influence.

She had always expected magic to change her life for the better, but it never had. It had always made her life worse, starting with her mother taking over her body. Once she freed herself from her mother's possession, she started using magic at school, but that had led to being blackmailed by Xander, then burned at the stake. She had escaped that fate by transforming herself into a rat. It had seemed like the only way out at the time.

The thought led her mind to Willow, the source of all her problems. Amy had always wanted Willow to be her friend, but Willow kept her as a rat in a cage while she missed high school then university, ignoring her in favor of her real friends.

It had take her some time to regain her memories from her time as a rodent, but Amy had seen everything from her little cage. They might not have paid much attention to her, but she had watched them. She had kept score.

Willow had risked her life time and time again for friends who ignored her in favor of their own issues. Finally, Willow focused on herself and woke up to the magic and what she could do with it, but instead of turning to Amy, Willow found a new friend to do spells with. Tara.

Tara had pretended to be sympathetic when Willow told her Amy's story, but Amy had seen the look in her eyes. She knew Tara was envious of her greater abilities, of the connection she and Willow could have shared. Tara was careful to always seem nice, but she had revealed her true colors when she got that cat to torment Amy. Even today she couldn't abide the creatures.

Finally, when Tara and the rest of Willow's friends deserted her, afraid of being overshadowed by her growing power, Willow had deigned to think about Amy the rat. Once she had bothered to think about it, it had only taken Willow a few minutes to break the spell. She could've done that at any time.

Amy had been willing to overlook that to be Willow's friend again. They had so much potential together. She had shown Willow the possibilities inherent in her magic, even introduced her to her teacher Rack. Everything had been going great, then Willow rejected her again for her little girlfriend Tara.

Amy had seen Willow taking care of Tara after she had lost her mind, feeding her and cleaning her, then spending all night searching for a spell to bring her back. Then Tara had abandoned Willow over one little spell. How could Willow have gone back to someone who rejected such devotion?

What kind of a witch was Tara anyway, making Willow promise not to do any more spells? Tara hadn't understood Willow like she had. She had seen the glow of accomplishment when Willow mastered a new spell. They could have shared that together, glorying in the magic instead of fearing it like Tara.

She had been glad when that little bitch had gotten shot, thinking that would make Willow return to her senses and realize that the magic was her destiny. She had been right about Willow returning to the magic, but as always, Willow made things worse for her, killing Rack on her rampage after Tara's death. Then she left town, leaving Amy alone, without anyone to teach her or share the magic.

She shook her head, trying to clear her head of thoughts of Willow. Willow was gone now, probably dead. She didn't matter any more. Her problems were of the past.

Her powers had grown slowly after Rack died. Learning from books was so slow. She didn't have the patience to teach herself the ancient languages and learn the spells on her own. She had learned how to steal the magic from others though, but borrowed power didn't last. It was an easier, faster path, but she had to keep finding new donors and stolen magic didn't flow naturally. It grated like something forced in where it didn't belong. She only had to look in the mirror to see the price she paid.

Her life was about to change though. She had discovered the secret of the Heart. It wasn't a tool of destruction, but one of creation, of restoration. With it, she would get back the life that Willow Rosenberg had stolen from her. She would be young again and powerful like her mother, like Willow. It would be her second chance.

This time she would do everything right.

Tara jiggled the key in the lock impatiently before attempting to turn it again. This time she was rewarded by the clicking sound of the door unlocking. She groped in the darkness for the doorknob. Finding it, she quietly pushed the door open and slipped into the dark confines of Giles's office. She closed the door behind her.

Walking slowly towards where she remembered his desk to be, she banged her shin into something in the darkness. It crashed to the ground with a jarringly loud sound. She froze, afraid to even breathe. After long moments of undisturbed waiting, she finally let her breath out in a long sigh. Either the school wasn't well guarded at night or the crash hadn't been as loud as she thought it had been.

Turning on her flashlight, Tara discovered that she had simply knocked over Giles's chair. She pointed the light at his desk and began examining the papers and books scattered on it, looking for the one that had caught her eye this afternoon before his story had distracted her. Finding it, she opened the leather-bound tome and began flipping through the pages until she found the section on memory.

Reading quickly under the pale light of her flashlight, Tara soon found what she needed--a spell to see memories of a past life. After checking the list of ingredients, she was disappointed when she realized that she couldn't cast the spell tonight. There were several items that she'd have to purchase at the magic shop tomorrow. Closing the book, she tried to push down her disappointment.

She had to find something in her shared past with Willow that wasn't all blood and dark magic. Her throat tightened as she pressed her lips together. She just had to. The image of Willow dressed all in black, her face hidden, reaching up with clawed hands to bring down the towers of the Watcher's Council, each one full of screaming people, haunted her. She knew that the Watchers weren't all good people like Mr. Giles, but she saw that terrible image each time she closed her eyes.

She didn't know how to reconcile that haunting image with her deep attraction for Willow. Which was the real Willow? The smiling young woman she'd flirted with over coffee or the terrible dark witch who killed without a second thought?

She shook her head. That wasn't fair. Willow regretted what she had done at the Watcher's Council, but felt that she hadn't had any other choice. That was scary too. Willow's first instinct was to destroy utterly anything that threatened her. Even on the Hellmouth that wasn't always the best course of action.

Almost as disturbing as what Willow had talked about was what she hadn't mentioned. She talked freely about vampires, demons, and worse, but she hadn't told her about the times when it was just two of them together like in her dreams. Why hadn't she talked about those? Perhaps it was some misguided overcompensation for not telling her about the dark times before. But what if it was because she didn't remember or if there weren't that many? Maybe she'd already dreamed all the good parts.

She sniffled as a single tear fell on the open page of the book. There had to be more to their relationship than what she learned about today and she was going to find it. She closed the book before more tears could fall and stowed it safely in her backpack. She wiped away the remaining tears with the back of her hand.

Before slipping out of the office, she righted Giles's chair so he wouldn't know she had been here tonight. As she walked away, her footsteps echoed disturbingly behind her in the quiet dark corridors of the school. She kept looking over her shoulder for someone pursuing her. Each time she did, she told herself it was just the guilt she was feeling over the book. She promised herself that she would return it as soon as she cast the spell.

Finally she reached the exit. Pushing the door open she emerged into the coolness of the night. The starry sky was wonderfully open after the claustrophobic darkness of the school. She looked up at the familiar patterns of the stars in the night sky and was reassured by their seeming permanence. The darker the night, the brighter the stars seemed to shine.

With that hope in mind, she began her walk home by the pale light of the waxing moon.