Never the Twain?

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Chapter 13

Willow tried, but couldn't become invisible as Giles and Buffy stared. Behind her, Riley reached out and touched her shoulder. She was grateful for the support.

"Okay," said the slayer, with deliberate patience, "why did you bring her here again?"

"The host said to."

"And this host is...?"

"He's a psychic demon who runs a karaoke bar."

They looked at her. They they looked at Riley. He nodded. "Yep."

Giles and Buffy exchanged a glance. It was Giles who spoke next. "Willow," he said, taking off his glasses, "you went to Los Angeles to recruit Faith. And you brought back..." The glance he aimed at the other side of the Shoppe spoke volumes, none of them reassuring.

"You brought a demon back because another demon told you to?" Buffy wasn't blinking. Not a good sign.

"Faith and Wesley seemed to think it was a good idea," offered Riley.

Now they all looked at their visitor, all five foot four inches of her with pale blue skin, pointed ears and prehensile tail. Jocelyn's feather-like hair was taking in the Magic Shoppe like a kid in a candy factory. Catlike eyes darted from one item to the next, and then the next. Then she noticed their staring. Grinning, she approached them.

"Wow!" proclaimed the half-breed. "This place is sooooooo...wow."

"Thank you," murmured Giles.

"And you run the place?"

"In theory."

"Need some help? I'll be needing a job."

"Ah. Well. You see..." Giles put his glasses back on. Again. "Even in a shop devoted to the supernatural, the clientele have limits to what they will accept." He actually looked embarrassed.

Jocelyn didn't. "You mean the way I look," she said. Closing her eyes, she concentrated. The transformation took a little over one second. Ears changed shape. Her tail retracted (where? Willow couldn't help but wonder). The blue turned pink while the white feather-like mane became cropped blonde hair. The eyes that opened again looked a normal hazel. "What do you think?" She did a pirouette.

Giles coughed. "Impressive," he conceded.

"She's only half demon," Willow pointed out. "Like her parents."

Buffy met Giles' gaze. "I could use some help," he said "what with Anya taking care of Xander." Another great sigh. Willow relaxed. She knew what was coming. "Very well," Giles finally intoned.

Jocelyn jumped up and down.

* * *

Tara stared at Xander. He hardly seemed to notice her. Arms wrapped around knees, crouching in the over-sized chair of Anya's, he kept looking from one corner of the room to the next. It made for a weird, even fascinating pattern. "Wind," he muttered. "Wind always trying to get in." Sometimes he ranted since having so much of his mind ripped away. Other times he'd remain silent for hours, emitting little more than random words. Tonight oracle-like musings came from him, a stream of consciousness said with great purpose--although one no one could understand. "The question is why. Why trying to get in? Something they want here? Or trying to get away from something else, eh? Answer me that, if you can. But only if you know. Not suspect. Know." He started to repeat this last word over and over, in a sing song voice.

Anya loved this man. She didn't really care all that much about anything else, Tara had noticed, but she was willing to do anything for Xander. Even in this state, she refused to leave him. Refused to give in, even to moments of despair and sadness, when her own tears set off Xander's hysterical sobs.

If this happened to Willow, would I take care of her?

Yes.

But the mere thought of Willow reduced in this way terrified her. Apart from any other concern, that danger alone would have brought her back to Sunnydale. Glory was here. Banished Hellgod who did...this...to her victims because she didn't belong in this reality and would go mad herself without their stolen sanity. More, Willow was here. Willow dwelt in this creature's stalking grounds, and wasn't going to leave. So neither would Tara.

Anya stepped back into the room, looking better after some sleep. She fixed her gaze on Xander, noted the lack of change, then gave a nod to Tara.

"Nothing much to report," she told the ex-demon. "He's been quiet."

"Thanks," said Anya, settling in to watch over her boyfriend. After a few moments she looked back at the vampire. "What?"

"You're not checking him for bite marks. I just wanted to thank you for that." Not waiting for a reply, Tara left the apartment. What was there to say, after all?

* * *

Willow left the Magic Shoppe late. She'd spent literally hours researching every single magical aspect of insanity she could find. It made for a daunting task. Yet, despite her tiredness, she immediately recognized the figure lurking in the shadows.

"Hello, Willow" said Tara.

"Hi." Something seemed different. What? "I thought...aren't you living in LA now? Well, not living but kinda undying? Is that the word?"

"It might be. But--no."

"Oh."

"Let me walk you home. This isn't a safe town to walk alone at night."

Left unsaid of course was the main reason Sunnydale was so dangerous--namely, vampires. Vampires like Tara herself. By most standards, this was an ironic offer at least. At worst, it was dangerously insane.

"Okay." She barely hesitated. The two of them made their way through the half-deserted streets. Neither felt any need for hurry.

"I've been thinking about that spell I did," ventured Willow after several minutes.

"Which one?"

"To have my will done? It made Faith and Buffy get engaged for an hour or two there?"

Tara smiled. Willow still felt embarrassed about that incident, but the blonde vampire's smile nearly banished those feelings. She was too tired to deny that. And after all, why should she, really?

"I remember."

"You suddenly appeared. Out of nowhere."

Silence. Tara watched her. In this dim light no doubt she was getting a far better idea of Willow's expression than Willow got of hers.

"Did you ever wonder why?

"Why what?

"I mean--why you showed up? Right then? There?"

"Yes." Her voice was low saying this. For a moment, Willow felt an aching memory of the human Tara, the quiet girl she'd found irresistible in the few hours they'd shared. They were so different. Yet almost painfully similar as well. That Tara had her moments of silence as well, silences filled with meaning and possibilities.

"It...was something I said." More silence. Taking a deep breath, Willow plunged ahead. "I wished for someone who'd be there for me. Just me. No one else." She waited for a reply. Any reply.

The wait lasted nearly an entire minute. "That wish came true." Willow could barely hear her.

"Guess so."

"It still is." Those three words didn't really echo into the night, reverberating back and forth across the night sky so that all the gods and goddesses could hear. Instead, Tara spoke in the same quiet voice she had before. But to Willow, they rocked her like an earthquake. For me. Mine.

Mine.

Her reverie was broken as Tara suddenly stopped, her posture abruptly changing. With a sliding sound, she took the sabre from her back. The vampire looked ready for a fight. But Willow heard nothing. Until...there! Metal clanging against metal, again and again but in the rhythm by now very familiar. Battle. Someone was fighting. With...swords?

Both young women broke out into a run. Less that two blocks away, they followed the sounds to an alley. There, Buffy was driving away a small cluster of heavily armed man-shapes. Weirdly, each was garbed in chain mail. And each wore a mask. Buffy herself was holding her own, face twisted into a grimace of rage. Two of the armored shapes were approaching her from behind. Willow focused her will. The top of a garbage can flew into the back of one shape, making him trip and alerting Buffy to his presence. She spun around, meeting the sweep of his blade with one of her own. Borrowed, presumably, from one of the fallen Shapes.

Tara used her own sword, using less skill (or so it seemed to Willow's eye) but fortified with superhuman strength, speed and endurance. Besides, short of decapitation, a sword couldn't hurt her. And switching to her demon face had a good psychological effect--most of them took off.

All but one.

Buffy had him on the ground, sword at his throat. "Lets see what you are," she murmured. Then she yanked off his mask.

He looked--human. Not bad looking, in fact. The weird tattoo on his forehead was distracting, though.

"Who are you?" asked the Slayer.

"One of a vast army!" His eyes took in the two young women nearing, on either side of Buffy. At Tara, he actually recoiled a little. Willow realized she still wore her demon face. "It doesn't matter," he snarled, "how many allies you may have! We shall send as many as are needed! The Beast shall not prevail!"

Buffy looked at Willow. Then Willow looked at Tara, who looked at Buffy. Now Buffy noticed Tara for the first time. She looked at the two of them. Together.

"Now," she muttered under her breath, "what?"

* * *

In the end Buffy let the soldier go.

Eventually, she let Willow and Tara go as well--not without lots of explanations, though. She did agree that Sunnydale was dangerous, and yes, Tara had protected her best friend before now, but on the other hand Tara was a vampire--and so on. Buffy only backed off after Willow had put on what Tara could only call a resolve-face. At least it defeated Buffy's indignation.

Now they'd walked for another hour or more without a word. Exactly where they went wasn't clear. At least not at first. But Tara gently directed the red-haired witch. She wanted to show her something.

"So..."

"Yes?" Whatever it was, Tara didn't want to press her.

"What's it like?" She glanced nervously at Tara. "Being a vampire?"

Oh. Dear. God.

"Hard to explain." That sounded lame. Worse, it meant nothing. And worse still, it was true. "Its like--the brakes are gone. Everything is increased. Speed and strength, you know about that. But what you lose is what's most interesting."

"Your soul."

"I suppose. But what seems missing to me are all the inhibitions, the little cowardices, the self-imposed limits. Gone. And that is so very, very addictive." Willow was listening. She seemed interested. A good sign. "I think that must be what it'd be like to get drunk. Or really high on drugs. Most of us--I've noticed--get swept up in the sensation. They find the high and do everything they can to stay there."

"But you didn't."

"Oh, yes I did. The first time I killed--you can't imagine what that was like. Being born couldn't have meant more. If someone had disemboweled me, it couldn't have hurt as much. Yet a thousand orgasms couldn't match it. No other kill is ever quite like it. Not that I didn't try." She could tell this frightened Willow. But didn't terrify her.

"What changed?"

"The Apostate."

"Your sire." Tara nodded. "Is that why he took your eye?"

"He wanted to get my attention. It worked. Honestly, I'm not sure anything less...drastic...would have."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

After another eternal ten minutes, Tara stopped. With a glance, she indicated they'd reached where she was headed. Two stories of moldy bricks and boarded-up windows. She went inside. Barely hesitating, Willow followed. Tara entered through a side door, padlocked several times on the outside as well--it turned out--as inside. One stark lightbulb was the only source of illumination, showing dust and clutter. A surprising amount of time and effort had gone into creating this effect. Four carefully placed mannequins, for example, helped create an atmosphere both unsettling and profoundly abandoned.

Tara made her way to a large wardrobe. Pulling aside the door, she then pushed the mildewed clothes hanging there. One carefully placed push of her hand then revealed the ladder.

"You coming?"

Willow's eyes were huge. Not as huge as they could've been, but...big. Still, she gamely followed Tara. The ladder's rungs were steel, and built into the reinforced concrete. Down. Further down. Nearly fifty feet down.

At the bottom, Willow turned around and stared. Tara couldn't help but giggle at the shock on her face.

"Wow."

"Used to be a bomb shelter," noted Tara as she switched on the extra lights. An affectation it might be, but she was almost childishly pleased at the effect of nearly a hundred candelabra light bulbs flickering from all over the room. Curtains hung everywhere, some of them draped over various pieces of furniture. Well, the couches hadn't matched. Besides, they were ugly. The bookcases and desk had been nice though. Now they overflowed with books.

Books Willow headed for like a vampire to blood. Her excitement grew as she scanned some of the titles.

"You...how...Tara, this library...Giles would fall in love with you!" The second she said it Willow did a take.

Tara decided to be nonchalant. Or to try, anyway. "My sire's legacy. There was no one else with any claim to his things, so..." She shrugged. "You are welcome here."

"Thank you."

"Not just to study."

Another long silence. Finally, "What about Harmony?"

"Gone. Joined a self-help group for vampires, if you can believe it. She was a mistake, anyway."

"Why did you make her?"

"Loneliness. She was pretty. Different. I got careless, took too much. So instead of letting her die, I brought her across. Do you mind if we don't talk about her?"

"Fine."

How long the silence then lasted Tara couldn't possibly have guessed. It felt like a million years. And for the first eon or so, neither she nor Willow did more than look at each other. Then, Willow took a tiny step. Forward. Not back. Closer to Tara. Then another.

Tara seized her.

Lightning fast, her hands reached out to each side of Willow's face, bringing their mouths together in one hungry movement. Somebody whimpered. Who? Did it matter? Or as long as they were at long, long last where they should be--touching, feeling each other, holding each other tight, tighter, tighter still--while this was true, what else could concern them? Details--never mind details.

When the kiss ended, it didn't, really. At least, it didn't feel so much an end as a pause. Both of them gasped. Willow had to. Tara simply did so from habit, perhaps. Now they looked at each other. Just looked.

"You're so warm," whispered Tara. "Like blood. Like life." Her voice sank, nearly inaudible. "Am I cold?"

"Cool," hushed Willow back to her. "Like a glass of water in the desert."

Their next kiss lasted even longer. As did the next. Later, neither could recall precisely when they fell to the pillowed floor--though both could not forget the feeling as limbs entwined and hands, then fingers, began to explore. It was sweet beyond words, and bittersweet because each remembered doing the same. Then, one of them had been different. Yet in some ways identical. So this dance of flesh and nerve tip was all mixed up with regrets and confusions, coupled and coupling with joyous abandon. It took a lot of courage to shed their pasts along with their clothes. Yet they did it.

And they met together in pleasure more than merely physical, blinding though that part of it was.

Mine, they thought as one.

Yours.

Never again alone. Forever bound. Heat and cold. Living and undead. Mortal and hellspawn. Yet--alike in their hearts, beating or not.

Hours later, when Willow offered her throat, she felt no fear. And Tara felt no shame. She bit deeply. She drank. Her lover moaned, but did not die. Nor would she, vowed the young vampire with all the raw might of her will.

Nor would she.

Chapter 15

"Uh...thanks."

The expression on Buffy's face was a very fixed smile. Very. As in artificial. Fake. Willow stole a quick glance at Riley, anxious he was going to feel hurt. But no--he looked as genuinely pleased as a child winning a checkers. Meanwhile, Buffy looked down at all the weapons manuals she'd just removed from the wrapped box. The wrapping paper was mismatched pastels.

"Happy Birthday!" Riley was grinning as he said it.

Willow stole at glance at everyone else at the party. Joyce was smiling with what seemed like warmth. Giles was nearly as good. Xander, drugged into quietness, just stared at the colors. Only Anya, holding his hand, tilted her head in honest confusion.

"Why did you get her manuals for weapons she doesn't have?"

(Note to self, thought Willow, don't keep wearing turtlenecks around Anya once the weather warms up.)

Riley looked at her as if she'd just admitted to getting polka-dot tattoos. He didn't say anything. Which seemed wrong, somehow.

"For future reference," stated Buffy. "Thanks, honey," she said, adding a loud smooch on her boyfriend's cheek. His smile was entirely too cartoonish for Willow's taste.

"Prezzies! More prezzies!"

Willow nearly handed hers to the birthday girl, but Giles beat her to it. Giles? I must be more tired than I thought. Must remember to take those vitamins and follow the doctor's diet. At the same time, not let her best friend and roommate notice anything was different. So far, not too difficult. Enough travails were wandering around in Buffy's life right now--specifically, a bleached-blonde hellgod looking to find her little sister for Who-Knows-What-Purpose-But-Odds-Are-Something-Evil. So Buffy was distracted. It hadn't really registered on her that Willow was spending a lot of every night away from their dorm room. Or that she was weaker than usual. Yet Buffy was smart enough that if one word of Willow's "anemia" came to her attention, she'd remember how her best friend had managed not to let anyone see her neck in over a week. And the violence would ensue.

She couldn't let that happen.

"Where's Dawnie?" she asked.

"Upstairs," shrugged Buffy. "The angst of the newly minted teen at someone else's birthday."

"All shiny," muttered Xander, "and bright and pretty. Like a doubloon in the pirate's treasure."

Everyone was silent for a moment. United in discomfort. Everybody looked at their good friend, now a wasted remnant of what he'd been. His eyes continued to be vacant, with the occasional twitches in each limb. Anya brought him to her in a comforting hug. Xander mewled. Willow was reminded how she and Tara had been doing some research into maybe healing her oldest friend. Had his insanity been natural, it would have been far too dangerous. But this condition had been caused by magic. Magic, at least in theory, could undo what had been done.

So she hoped.

* * *

"What are you doing out?"

Dawn spun around at the sound of Tara's voice. For the barest of seconds, she had the look of a kitten caught in headlights. But she recovered quickly.

"I can ask you the same question!"

"Fair enough," answered Tara. She emerged from the shadows of the tree outside the Summers' house. Dawn did a little take.

"Your eye..."

Tara touched her face. "Its glass. Pretty good, don't you think? I can't see the effect, myself."

Dawn stepped closer to get a better look. Privately, Tara was pleased to think the Slayer's sister wasn't afraid to get this close to her. The teenager peered into the vampire's face.

"They look alike. Pretty much, anyway. The same color blue." Dawn nodded. "How does it feel?"

"Kinda like a bandage."

"Oh." She clearly didn't know how to respond to this.

"Now, about that deal."

"What deal?"

"You tell me what you're doing out here. And I tell you what I'm doing."

Dawn pondered this for a bit. Then she gestured. "Not here. Let's get out of big sister range."

The teenager led the vampire away, to somewhere they could talk. As they left, Tara took a quick look back at the house where Willow was. She shouldn't feel anxious, she knew that. Later tonight, they'd be together. But this was one of the symptoms of love, she supposed. No way she could get enough of the sight of her beautiful red-haired witch.

* * *

The party continued, quiet in its way but also slightly manic. Willow thought everyone's reaction to cake was just a little over the top. Even her own. Joyce offered a slice to Giles in a decidedly flirtatious way. Buffy glared at them hard enough they parted ways. Riley just would not sit down half the time, insisted on remaining at parade rest. Weird. And the way Buffy insisted on playing Monopoly! It was...odd. Especially as Buffy would cackle everytime she got to buy something or any player had to pay her rent. Stranger--and more disturbing still--were the cracks about beating up anyone who insisted she pay up when landing on their properties. After a while, the way she kept getting out the weapons manuals Riley got her, flipping through the pages and muttering "See, with this one no one could get out alive" really got on Willow's nerves.

Willow found herself off in the sidelines with Anya.

"Does all this seem strange to you?"

"You mean, how Buffy's acting crazy?"

"Well, yeah. Kinda."

"I'm putting it down to stress. Her mom getting sick. Glory the hellgod wanting to grab her sister. After a vampire tried to drain said sister."

"Plus...you know."

The deliberate cheerfulness in Anya's face faltered. "Xander." She looked so sad for a moment, so devastated, Willow decided to be a little reckless.

"We might have found something," she whispered to Anya.

Anya looked at her, baffled. "We?"

"Tara and me. Don't tell Buffy." Willow's voice sank even lower.

"I can't hear you."

Carefully, Willow raised the volume of her voice. "Me and Tara." She shot a quick glance at Buffy, who was far too cheerfully demanding her mother pay up or face the wrath of the chosen one. "She has these amazing books on demonology and magic. Besides, she knows more about Glory than anyone, because of what the Apostate told her. Anyway, there're these references to various healing demons."

"I thought of that," Anya interrupted. "Remember, I used to be one?"

"A healing demon?"

"No. I was a vengeance demon. But I got to know a lot of other types of demons over the centuries."

"Oh. But I thought most demons only stick around their own kind."

"They usually do. But sometimes they act in concert for a common goal. Like when they belong to the same cult. Or a moon demon hunt. Plus sometimes there's a big ceremony where everybody who's anybody has to show up, bring sacrifices, that kind of thing."

"I guess that makes sense. So you know about healing demons?"

"Yep." This was not said with anything like optimism. "As a rule, they're mercenaries of a type. You have to pay them to get their help--usually in pain or body parts." She sighed. "Not that they'd help any friend of a slayer, anyway."

Willow wished she could dispute any of this. Unfortunately, Anya was the expert here, and she had the fiercest motivation for healing Xander. She'd practically put herself in orbit around him.

"We'll keep looking anyway," she whispered to Anya.

"Thanks." Anya's reply was very, very quiet.

* * *

"We could simply break the door, you know."

Tara sighed. She didn't need to, being dead and all. But habits were habits.

"Do you want Giles to know somebody's been going through his things?"

Dawn considered this. "But the shop's getting broken into all the time, anyway."

"No reason to get sloppy." Tara's voice was firm. Dawn subsided, waiting as patiently as a 14-year-old can while Tara tried to pick the magic store's lock. Not very successfully.

"So you're in love with Willow?"

"That's right."

"I thought vampires couldn't love."

"Not exactly." Tara nearly welcomed the distraction. For one thing, she preferred intelligent inquiry to adolescent nagging any night. Besides, she'd been trying to articulate this very thing for a long time. "Vampires are demons. Demons are predators, and we have all of a predator's instincts."

"But no soul."

"Right. I think humans use their soul to feel some emotions. For us, though, the potential is there but atrophied. Most vampires just ride wherever their instincts take them."

"How come that isn't true for you?"

"Don't know."

The teenager pondered this. "So were you always gay?"

"Yes."

"So that doesn't change, then?"

"I don't think so."

"What about Willow?"

Tara stopped. She looked at Dawn. "What about her?"

Both teenager and vampire jumped as the door to the magic shop suddenly swung open. Jocelyn--in full demon face--peeked her head out, taking them in.

"Hey guys! Why didn't ya knock?"

Silence.

Dawn finally spoke. "We didn't know anybody was here."

"And," continued Tara, "we didn't want to bother Giles."

"Okay-dokey. Come on in!"

* * *

"Where're ya goin' Wil?"

"Just for a walk, Buffy. My stomach's upset."

"Too much cake?"

"Yeah. Some fresh air'll do me good."

Buffy nodded in a very control-mode kind of way. Oh dear. Willow felt less than thrilled as her best friend turned to Riley with the air of an officer giving orders. "Willow's going for a walk," she said, "go with her."

"I don't need..."

"Wil, Sunnydale's dangerous enough and now Glory's out there. You're a lot safer with an escort."

Riley was very nearly at attention. What was it with people lately? Giving in to the inevitable, Willow nodded. At least Riley seemed pleased--give the boy a job, any job, and he felt the better for it. Okay. But before she could even take another full step towards the front door, Willow noticed Joyce coming from upstairs, looking distressed.

"Buffy! Dawn--she's missing."

Everybody (except Xander) instantly went on the alert. Buffy turned to Willow. "Could anybody have gotten past that warding spell without you knowing it?"

"No! No way. I mean--it wouldn't do more than slow anybody down, but it's make plenty of sound is anything demonic or even supernatural broke the circle."

"She's probably gone off on her own," ventured Giles.

"In Sunnydale?" Buffy's voice was furious, indignant.

"C'mon," said Willow, "she's only fourteen."

The slayer's face drained of any emotion, gaining that focus Willow knew by now meant she was going to put up with nothing that even smacked of nonsense. Or dissent. "Riley. Willow. Do a circuit around the neighborhood. Anya, you and Giles head for the Magic Shoppe."

"Buffy!"

She looked at Willow. "What?"

Willow gestured towards Xander, rocking on the sofa, Anya's arms protectively around his shoulders, her expression a mix of appalled and defiant.

"Anya needs to stay with Xander," Willow said to Buffy's puzzled expression. Rather more slowly than it should have, Buffy's face registered what she'd said. She looked around.

"Mom? You stay here. Dawn might simply come back on her own. I'll go with Giles."

"Alright, honey."

"Let's go people!"

* * *

Jocelyn proved more than cooperative. When Dawn (rather brazenly, in Tara's opinion) asked to see Giles' most recent journal, the half-demon picked the drawer's lock with no trouble and presented the book to her with a flourish. Now she crouched atop the counter, tail flicking back and forth while Dawn read.

Tara herself looked around the shop, quietly noting how a few books and amulets had been rearranged since she was here last. Nothing very obvious. But something tickled at the back of her mind. Some little detail. A clue?

"The monks," read Dawn aloud, "had to make sure the Slayer would protect the Key with her life. So they gave it human form." She said these last words with no inflection. Then stopped. For what seemed like forever.

"Wow," said Jocelyn at last. "So none of us in this room is completely human!"

"I wouldn't put it that way," answered Tara deliberately. She watched the unmoving Dawn while she spoke. "From what Giles says, Dawn is completely human. She's even Buffy's sister. They altered reality to give the Key a form, but that form is just as real as anything else."

"Still," insisted Jocelyn cheerfully, "its not like she's really fourteen. Or like Mrs. Summers is really her mother."

"Of course she is."

"Noooooooo...!" She shook her head like a clown.

"Yes!" Tara was a little startled at how forcefully she said this. "If I did a spell, for example, that shrimp no longer existed, then I would have changed reality. Shrimp wouldn't pretend not to exist, they really wouldn't. And if I did it right, shrimp would never have existed and no one would remember them. The world wouldn't be full of invisible shrimp nobody could remember! I'd've created a different, but true reality."

"C'mon, that's not the same thing."

"Its exactly the same thing!" Still no reaction from Dawn. This was not good. "If Dawn really is this Key, then she's real. Even if somebody magically created the form she's in now, that doesn't change the fact her form is real. Its kind of like finding out you were reincarnated. Only with some bells and whistles."

Jocelyn looked skeptical. "I think you're stretching, girlfriend."

Tara fumed. "I am not your..." She stopped herself. "Anyway, the whole point is that Dawn is human. However she got that way, she's human now. And she's who she is, even if how she got here is rather...exotic."

"Exotic?" Dawn's voice was so low Tara might not have heard it if she wasn't a vampire. From Jocelyn's turn of head, clearly she heard it as well. "Exotic means weird. Unusual. Freakish."

Silence followed. Cut into suddenly by Tara. "Unique. Individual. Extraordinary. And exotic also means pretty, valuable, rare."

"Alone." If anything, Dawn's voice went even lower.

Tara strode over to where Dawn sat, hunched in and looking at no one. She sat beside her, putting one arm around her. Each shoulder felt like steel, she was so tense. But she didn't react to Tara's presence at all. Memories of her human mother's death came unbidden to Tara.

"Dawn."

No answer.

"Dawn," Tara repeated. "How do you know we aren't all Keys? Or something else? Maybe that's all the universe is, a place for magical some things to have form. Remember last year, when everybody thought Jonathan invented the internet and starred in The Matrix?"

"I wasn't there."

"You don't know that."

"I. Wasn't. There."

Tara paused. "For all any of us know, the world began five seconds ago, complete with a bunch of memories created along with the trees and iguanas and pizza parlors and everything."

Atop the counter, Jocelyn cocked her head. "I like that idea," she almost hissed.

Ignoring her, Tara leaned in closer to Dawn. Pitching her voice low, she spoke with an surprising intensity. At least surprising to her. "Listen to me. This is something I know--it doesn't matter. Not in any way that counts. Whether you're a Key, or a changeling left by fairies, or a vampire or a clone, or simply a little girl whose sister happens to be the Slayer--you are what you think, and do, and feel. That's why people care. And in the end, that's why they love."

Dawn trembled. Only for a moment, and only slightly but Tara felt it. Maybe she was getting through to her? She could hope.

"You," began Dawn, "really believe that?" A deep, almost shuddering breath. "How can you?"

"I do more than believe. By now, I know."

Now Dawn looked at Tara. "Because of Willow? Because she loves you?"

Tara nodded. She could feel the girl's stare boring into her. On an impulse, she hugged her. After a moment or two, Dawn hugged back. Tara rocked the girl gently, feeling the first few deep breaths that came before crying. In some part of her mind, Tara was surprised she still recognized all this. Perhaps she hadn't lost as much as she thought when the Apostate had sired her. Or when she and Willow together had reunited the demon and the human. This was a subtle pleasure, to be sure. Delicate even, giving comfort to a confused and horrified young woman. Yet she welcomed it.

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY SISTER!"

Buffy stood in the front door, teeth bared, her entire body ready to spring. The axe in her hand only added to the effect.

Dawn pulled away from Tara. Her eyes were red, puzzled, angry. Hurt. She stared at her sister.

Buffy spoke through clenched teeth. "Dawn! Come to me!" The girl hesitated. "NOW!"

"You," said Dawn sullenly, "aren't my sister." Buffy's eyes widened. "I don't have to obey you."

"Do what she says," whispered Tara. "The truth is--she loves you." Dawn took this in reluctantly. With a certain awkward grace, she stood and headed towards Buffy. It took her longer than it should have. But when she got there, she looked the Slayer straight in the eye.

"Why didn't you tell me?" The indignation in Dawn's voice was like nails on a chalkboard. "Why?"

At first, Buffy didn't answer. "I was afraid of telling anyone."

"She was trying to protect you," added Tara from across the room. "In her heart--where it counts--you are her sister."

Now Buffy snarled. She stepped past Dawn, almost ignoring her. From the counter top, Jocelyn watched with fascination. Buffy looked on the verge of a berserk rage.

"Willow's in the hospital," she intoned.

Tara stood. "Why? What happened?"

"You already know." Buffy advanced in a murderous frenzy. "Bunch of Glory's minions tried grabbing her and Riley. In the fight, Willow fainted. Riley administered first aid." By now her eyes nearly glowed. "Guess what he found on her throat?"

What happened next very nearly seemed to be in slow motion. Buffy's axe swept in an arc towards Tara's neck. The vampire managed to duck only barely, then rolled away as fast as she could manage. She was only just fast enough as the axe's blade sliced through a part of her coat and imbedded itself in the floor. Dawn was screaming her sister's name. Jocelyn had stood up, her tail now swinging back and forth like a whip. Tara herself jumped beneath a table, putting its solid bulk between herself and the slayer. It wouldn't work for long, but she needed these few moments. She reached into her blouse as fast as she could, then dashed out towards the back door.

Buffy did something superhuman. She jumped over Tara and landed at the door before her. One spinning kick sent the blonde demon flying to the floor. Without a pause Buffy had her wooden stake out. She leapt with unerring aim, driving it deep into Tara's heart! It went all the way through and its tip hit the shop's floor.

And Tara looked up at Buffy, unharmed.

The slayer's eyes went huge. After that, they quickly went to each of Tara's hands. What she was looking for was on the left--the Ring of Amara. Rendering any vampire who wears it immune to the sun or the stake.

"That's why you seduced Willow," she hissed!

"Wrong!" Tara focused her will. With a word, she pushed Buffy off her and into the air. She landed with a thud. Tara herself jump up, and quickly pulled out the stake. In one movement, she raced towards the front door, tossing the stake at Dawn as she did.

* * *

Once into the night, she fled into the shadows where she knew the slayer could not find her. From alleyway to rooftop, via parking lot and even through a few abandoned buildings, she carefully avoided leaving a trail. She did not stop moving for at least an hour. When she did, she found herself at a motel. The parking area was filled with people, almost all of them her own age. Loud music blared. Pictures were projected onto the wall. Nearly everyone's clothes were...well, odd. One whiff told her that pot as well as crack was being smoked, along with the more usual tobacco. A rave. It must be. Good. The kind of place even a berserk slayer would not turn into a battle zone. Assuming, of course, she even managed to trace Tara here. Wait for an hour or two. Perhaps find somebody in a wacked-up enough mood from whom to feed. Then, back to her hidden lair. Only Willow knew where that was.

Willow. Thoughts of the redhead made Tara pause. Freeze, actually. With fear. Not of death, for in truth she'd died once and since then she'd found a surprising courage. Perhaps a legacy of her demon. But fear of losing Willow.

The tap on her shoulder brought her out of that mood. She turned to see an impossibly perky young lady smiling at her. For a moment, Tara didn't recognize her. When she did, it was all she could do not to drop her jaw.

"Britney Spears?"

"No," said the girl, a shade too precisely. "My name is April. Have you seen Warren?"

Chapter 16

Willow moped. The locale had something to do with this, being a hospital and all. And the gown they made her wear did nothing for dignity or comfort. But the fight she'd had last night weighed her down in very many ways.

Ultimate evidence of that fight was seated next to the door. Giles sat there, obviously standing guard. Against Tara, of course. He wouldn't listen to her, of course. That much had been made excessively clear. Goddess forbid anyone imagine for one instant she might know what she was doing. Or that the risks of her relationship might be something she'd thought through and accepted. Funny how nobody freaked this way when she dated a werewolf. And Buffy herself had dated a vampire. So it wasn't as if she was breaking really new ground here.

A sigh brought Giles suddenly to her side. "Willow? Are you alright?"

"Yes, Giles, I'm fine."

The weary anger in her voice must have penetrated. He took off his glasses. "You have friends who love you, Willow."

"Be kinda nice if they trusted me, too."

"It isn't your fault," he said in what was probably meant as a soothing voice. It didn't soothe. "Whatever sorcery or the like this Tara creature used, we'll discover."

"Giles."

"Yes, Willow." He looked so eager. She was so angry.

"I love her."

The patient look on his face made Willow want to slap him. "You believe you do."

"Just like you believe you care about Buffy? After all, maybe that just some magic that's part of being a slayer. Their watchers just start caring for them more and more and more--but maybe its not real. Maybe its just magic."

"Don't be silly."

"Prove it. Prove anything you've ever felt was real. I'm betting you can't."

He wasn't going to listen. She could talk from now until doomsday (which, in Sunnydale, might be next Thursday so that might be the wrong homile to use but anyway) but that alone would never let him believe himself wrong. Not about this. And one really nasty thought came to Willow as she watched Giles patiently take his seat again by the door. Would he be reacting this way if Tara had been a boy? For that matter, would any of them? Because Buffy and Riley in particular had been acting...well...kinda crazy about the whole thing. And not just about that.

Giles snapped to attention as the door opened. The fact it was day no longer made any difference in his mind, obviously. Well, what did anyone expect? Did they really believe Willow wouldn't try everything she could to protect her girlfriend? Okay, maybe she shouldn't have stolen it, but...

Willow did a take. The person who walked into her hospital room could not be walking into her hospital room.

"Hello," said Britney Spears. "You must be Willow. My name is April."

"Uh...hi." Something about the way this girl talked seemed...familiar. And not in a Britney-Spears-kinda-way. "This is my friend, Rupert Giles."

"Hello Rupert Giles," the precisely perky blonde said.

"Yes. Well. Good morning."

"Do I know you?" ventured Willow.

"No. But we have a mutual friend. Someone from Los Angeles. Her name is Rose." She said all this with the identical smile throughout. And much the same intonation. But--much more importantly, she was from Tara. The bit about LA and "The Rose" was a dead (or undead) giveaway.

"Oh!" Willow said, she hoped not too enthusiastically. "How is Rose?"

"She said to tell you she is fine. And she said I was to ask how you were." Again with the cheerfulness.

"Just a bit of anemia. You know--college student, not eating right, that kinda thing."

April nodded vigorously. "Good nutrition is terribly important. So will you be in this hospital for long?"

Willow eyed Giles, who looked equally puzzled and titillated. "I checking out today. Then I'll be hanging around as usual."

"Oh good! Then maybe Rose can come over for a visit. I think she would like that."

"That'd be nice." Where did Tara find this girl?

"Well, I will be going now. Perhaps we will see each other again?"

"Maybe."

"Bye-bye!" And with that, April turned and left.

Giles stared after her. Then stared at Willow. She did her best to appear innocent.

* * *

Although she hadn't been a vampire that long, Tara still found the sunlight disorienting. She wondered if this was a permanent response of her demon to something that was normally fatal--Ring of Amara or no. But then she saw her target and banished such thoughts.

Tara made it to his car before Ben did. He looked a little startled, then relaxed in recognition. "Miss Maclay. Hi."

"Hi. I've got to ask you something."

"About the glass eye? Is there some irritation?"

"No, that's fine. But a friend of mine has been looking for someone, and I have an idea you might know where he is."

"Well," Ben looked puzzled. "If I can help--sure."

She took a snapshot out of her pocket, handing it to him. "His name is Warren." Ben took a long, hard look. Before he said anything, Tara already knew.

"He was admitted a couple of days ago."

"For what?"

"Psych ward. Had a sudden and unexplained mental collapse. There's been a lot of that going around." He looked anything but happy about that. "Do you want to see him."

"No. But I think I'd better." With a shrug, he motioned her back towards the hospital. "I should mention," Tara said as she started walking, "there're some people hanging around the hospital I don't want to see me. Nothing illegal, just--awkward."

"Hey, we've all got secrets."

* * *

Willow felt better now that she was in her own clothes. And almost free--of this room, anyway.

"So where's Buffy?"

Anya answered before Giles. "On patrol with Riley. Looking for Tara, I think." Willow's look of alarm brought a reaction from her. "But I don't think they'll find her."

"They certainly have had no luck so far," murmured Giles.

"Good," said Willow. She stared at Giles without flinching. He looked away.

"I for one hope they don't find her. Tara has been really nice, helping out with Xander and everything."

"Anya," said Giles, "did it never occur to you to ask why she was being so helpful."

"No. Just to wonder why the rest of you weren't. Except Willow." Giles sighed. In exasperation. And maybe some guilt. Willow liked to think he felt some guilt. "Anyway, its not like Tara hurt anybody."

"May I remind you this is a vampire we're talking about? One who fed from Willow?"

"I asked her to," offered Willow.

"That," said Giles after a moment or two, "was hardly the sanest act you've ever committed."

"Could have been worse," she answered. "For example, I could have gotten together with a bunch of Satanists and raised a death-worshipping demon to go around possessing people to kill us all off." Giles twitched. That hit home. Anya looked between them, sure she was missing something--quite rightly. She waited for someone to explain. When no one did, she make a little sound and looked at Willow.

"You ready to go?"

"Sure."

Giles followed them out.

* * *

Tara hadn't expected the Psych Ward to be so...full.

"We don't know what's causing it," said Ben, "but the number of admissions for mental disturbances has been a steady flood for months. Something in the water, maybe. Then, about a week or so ago, things got worse. A lot worse."

"More admissions?"

"Nope. They all got worse. Crazier."

Every single bed held a patient, twitching and moaning (in some cases snarling) against heavy restraints. More than a few erupted into peals of laughter, while one seemed to be mooing like a cow. The din was a terrible thing to hear, like what Tara imagined hell might be like. She gazed at every face in the room, over three dozen in all. Not one focused back at her.

"The quiet ones get sent home, of course," said Ben in a monotone.

"And this acceleration--its recent?"

"Very." For some reason Ben's puzzlement seemed to grow over this. "And sudden. I've never seen anything like this."

"Its as if whatever caused this first wave of madness had something added to it," mused Tara.

"Guess so."

There! Warren, the builder of April, was whimpering against sweat-soaked sheets, not so much struggling against his restraints as pulling away from them.

"No...no...she'll get me, she'll find me...got to get away..." His voice came out in ragged gasps.

"He sounds terrified of something," offered Ben.

"Yeah. But he knows better than anyone..." Tara stopped herself before going any further. She abruptly turned to go. "There's something else going on here," she said in a low voice.

"Something else?" Ben followed her. "Like what?"

"If you're lucky, maybe you'll never find out."

Tara did not wait for him to catch up.

* * *

After two full days of having people hover over her Willow was ready to scream. To distract herself she dove into what research she could find about Glory. Fortunately, this proved to be absorbing and she managed after a few hours to dull the ache of not seeing Tara. Of course the good news--that Buffy hadn't managed to find her--helped. What didn't was the blasŽ assumption on the parts of Buffy, Riley and Giles that she was a victim. Poor lonely Willow, so down in the dumps she fell for the first sweet-talking vampire to come along and ask for the Ring of Amara. None of them used those words exactly, but where they got the notion she was this stupid baffled her. Like she couldn't figure this out? The only thing keeping her from tossing a few spells around in frustration was hope they'd eventually come around. Plus she tried to give them credit. Last time any of them had trusted a vampire it had very much ended in tears. So she waited. Impatiently.

"Find out anything new?" asked Anya as she landed next to Willow at the back of the magic shop.

"Nope." Willow took a cursory glance at her notes, all color coded for cross-indexing. "Glory. Also known as Glorificus. One of three hellgods who rule a demon realm, blah blah blah, banished to Earth, etcetera, needs to consume human mental energy in order to stay this side of sane." Remembering again what had happened to Xander, Willow stopped. "Sorry. Its just there doesn't seem to be anything more specific in here about anything. And I get frustrated."

"That's okay." Anya nodded. Her attention didn't seem to be on what Willow was saying. Instead her gaze swept the store. Willow looked as well. Jocelyn was selling another crystal ball. Several local blessed-wannabes from campus were gazing at the herb racks. Anya cocked her head. "Something's missing." Rising, she headed for the bottles of tinctures, herbs and salves. "Hey," she called to Jocelyn, "did you know you're out of frog's breath oil?"

Jocelyn finishing ringing up a sale before answering. "Yeah. This odd couple bought all we had a couple of days ago."

"All of it? What for?"

The half-demon shrugged using only her eyebrows. "Pretty young blonde with an old guy. Coke bottle glasses, you know?"

Anya looked puzzled. "Yeah, but what would they use it for? I mean, frog's breath oil doesn't have many uses. It doesn't go in any potions. The only ritual that requires it takes place on the summer solstice. Other than that..."

"Hello, my name is April." She was back. And exactly as precisely cheerful as before. Willow's heart skipped a beat. A message from Tara?

"Uh...hi." Anya managed a smile.

"Are you a friend of Willow? Because I am looking for her."

Willow raised her hand. "Right over here, April."

The blonde turned prettily and headed for Willow. Anya trailed, intrigued. "Since I am new in Sunnydale," April recounted, "and I only know you, I was hoping you would be willing to show me a good place to shop for shoes." She nodded as she finished.

In the corner of her eye, Willow saw Giles taking all this in. He looked suspicious. Damn.

"Actually, I know more about shoe outlets than Willow," offered Anya.

"You do? Hello."

"I'm Anya."

"Hello Anya. You are very pretty."

"Thanks. I think."

"But I made my offer first to Willow. It would be rude for me to withdraw my invitation."

"Who says you have to? Willow, you could use a break. The three of us can make an outing of it for a few hours?" Anya looked at Willow as she said this. Privately, the red-haired witch squirmed. She wanted to be alone with April, find out what message Tara might have for her (and find out who this April was, anyway). On the other hand, she could probably find some time alone with the blonde during the shopping trip, right? And with Anya along, Giles and company were less likely to be suspicious.

At that thought, Willow suddenly noticed the look Anya was giving her. Not a come-along-and-have-fun look, no. This was a read-my-mind-because-we-can't-talk-here look. Willow felt her eyes grow big.

"Okay. Yeah, that sounds like fun." Goddess, Willow hoped that didn't sound as fake as it felt. "And--it might help me recharge the old research batteries, too." Careful not to move too quickly, she gathered up her coat and purse. "Giles?" The Watcher came closer, still plainly concerned. "I'm going shopping."

"Shopping."

"Yeah. Its something we female types do from time to time. Not so much me, usually, but I think maybe this'd be a good time. Don't you worry--here're not one but two escorts for me." She smiled. Deliberately. And so did Anya. Between them, so did April. Did she ever not smile?

Giles took off his glasses. Then put them back on. At last he nodded. "Enjoy yourselves."

"Thanks," exclaimed Anya, "we will!"

With that, the three of them left the magic shop.

* * *

If Tara's heart beat, which it didn't, it would have skipped a couple as the door to Anya apartment opened. Of course Anya was the first to come in. It was her apartment, after all. Then came the robot April.

"Hello Tara, how are you?"

"Fine, April." She held up a bag. "Here're the shoes I bought you."

"Thank you." April obediently took the bag and sat on the sofa to see what Tara had chosen. She needed to know the prices and location of the shoe store for later reference. Not that Buffy and the others were likely to get that suspicious, but better to be safe. All these thoughts flowed through Tara's mind like quicksilver, then ended abruptly as She came into the room.

For one moment, Willow looked at her. One long, fleeting moment.

And then, they were in each others' arms.

Chapter 17

From the front room of the apartment, Willow heard a door open and people come in. She also heard voices. Reassuringly, they were Anya and the robot April.

"It still does seem wrong, somehow. Your boyfriend is the one who should be taking care of you."

"Yeah, well, life's like that sometimes."

Willow turned to look at her beloved. Tara's breasts grazed her back and her arms wrapped around her middle. One hand was lazily circled her navel, almost making Willow want to giggle. "Time to get dressed" she whispered.

"Must we?" whispered back the vampire. At Willow's reluctant nod, Tara mockingly pouted. "Ruthless."

It didn't take long for them to get dressed, even interrupting each other as they did for mutual kisses. Willow would have willingly offered her throat to Tara. She trusted her lover absolutely, and knew she'd not take too much blood. But with the others so paranoid right now fresh wounds were the last thing she wanted anyone to find on her person. And Tara herself hadn't pressed. She didn't feed from Willow for food. They both knew that.

Several minutes later, they emerged from the bedroom and found April cleaning. Anya watched with a curiously satisfied expression on her face, as she sat on her boyfriend's lap. Xander himself seemed vacant, but pleased in an abstract kind of way. Happy perhaps that Anya was there, although not completely aware of the fact? Seeing him like this dampened Willow's happiness. That, and the fact nearly all her friends were trying to hunt down and kill her beloved.

"Hello Willow. Hello Tara. Did you enjoy your sex together."

"Uh..."

"Yes," Tara answered for both of them.

"That is good." She nodded cheerfully as she continued to clean. Willow shot a look at Anya.

"What? She offered!"

After less than a moment's thought, Willow decided to let that go. The robot seemed happy to be doing it, and who was she to judge how other...beings...found joy? As long as they didn't hurt anybody.

"I was doing some research back at my lair," began Tara, "about different kinds of madness, and their causes?"

"But we know what's making people go crazy," said Anya. "Glory."

"Yes. But there seems to be something else at work here. The people at the psych ward, they've been getting worse. Or some of them have. And besides, there's something else."

"What?" asked Willow.

"Buffy," said Tara. "Along with Riley and Giles. Okay, I'm a vampire so maybe my expectations are a little skewed, but don't you think they're overreacting just a little?"

"Hmmm. Well, I think Riley still hasn't gotten over finding out about Angel."

"Its gotta suck," added Anya, "finding out your significant other lost hers to a bloodsucking demon spawn. No offense."

Tara shrugged. "Still, you'd think Buffy would at least listen to you. Or Giles."

Willow thought about it for a few moments. "So you're saying something's affecting them?"

"Maybe. And there was something else. The other night, when I was with Dawn at the Magic Shoppe, there was something different about it. I can't quite remember what, but something."

"Oh! I noticed something!" Anya piped in. Everyone looked at her. "The frogs breath oil. Jocelyn said somebody bought it all."

"Why?" Tara sounded baffled. "Its nearly useless."

"I know!"

April stepped forward. "Logically, there is but one thing to do."

"Go on, April," said Willow after a few moments' silence.

"List each use this frog's breath oil has. Then correlate that data with observed phenomena to see if there is any potential cause and effect. From there, you look for any similar facts to corroborate the initial hypothesis." She smiled.

Everybody else (except Xander) looked at each other. "Sounds like a good idea," said Anya.

"Thank you. I try to help!"

"So...what does frog's breath oil do?" asked Willow.

"Consecrates the Summer Solstice sacrifice for the demon Gl'hrrgh," offered Anya.

"Oh, dear--that sounds..."

Anya interrupted "He only accepts rabbits in sacrifice. So that's all good." She seemed very satisfied.

"Its rumored to be some kind of aphrodisiac for werefoxes," said Tara, "but they're native to Japan. And its only a rumor, anyway."

"And some people use it as a part of a warding spell against Baba Yaga!" said Anya.

"Who's Baba Yaga?"

"Old, old evil witch in Russian folklore. Trouble is, that warding spell doesn't work. Not that it needs to, anymore. She's been dead for centuries. Still, that's why people usually buy the stuff."

"Fine," said Willow, "but that doesn't sound useful to our situation right now. Is there any other reason somebody might buy frog's breath oil you can think of? Have you ever used it?"

Anya shrugged, "A bunch of us whipped some up five hundred years ago. Back when I was a demon." It took her a moment to register the looks she was getting from Willow and Tara. "Oh. That was the last time anyone had a Moon Demon Hunt. Frog's breath oil is poisonous to them."

Tara pondered. "Moon Demon? I don't know that species."

"Its not so much a species as a disease. Kind of like diabetes. Wiped out centuries ago. Used to afflict any type of demon. Moon Demons become living embodiments of insanity, preying on humans and demons alike. But like I said, they're all gone now. Too bad, really."

"Okay, I'll ask," said Willow. "Why?"

"The heart of a Moon Demon cures all forms of madness."

Now even April was staring at Anya.

"What?"

* * *

Even though Tara could walk in the day, she still found nighttime more comfortable. It just felt more natural. And in this case, it certainly seemed a better environment for the mission at hand. Following Jocelyn. The Magic Shoppe was closed, and the half-breed demon girl was wandering through downtown Sunnydale. Fortunately, the terrain made it easy enough for Tara to remain unseen. Plenty of shadows and alleys. Or, in this case, rooftops.

What she saw was a little disturbing.

First was the elderly couple that started fighting next to Jocelyn at the coffee shop. Loudly. Then they left separately in a huff. Coincidence? Possible. Just like the graffiti artist who resisted arrest and went into hysterics. Nothing too unusual in that. But when that vampire tried to bite what was obviously a priest--complete with crucifix--the pattern seemed to be fairly clear. Each incident happened within fifty feet of Jocelyn. And now she was headed towards the same park where Buffy had had to kill a snake creature months before--said creature a thing of Glory's. It had been on its way to tell Glory where to find the Key. So Glory almost certainly lived somewhere in the vicinity.

And Jocelyn knew Dawn was the Key.

Tara quietly drew her sword. If need be, she'd act. Ruthlessly. But first, she had to be sure. Left to her own devices, Tara thought simply killing Jocelyn right now had a certain safe logic. But Willow and Anya would be upset. And she needed to know if Jocelyn actually was a Moon Demon before going to all the trouble of cutting out her heart.

Jocelyn went into a bar. Tara headed for a fire escape to go to street level. Hiding her sword within the long coat, she also stepped inside the bar. The fact no one reacted to her apparent youth said volumes. But maybe they couldn't tell. Shadows blanketed the room. Without heightened senses, Tara doubted she could have found Jocelyn--who had parked herself in a booth. More interestingly, she'd reverted to her demon form. Pale blue skin, prehensile tail, etc. A quick glance around the bar revealed she wasn't the only non-human. So maybe it wasn't so odd they hadn't checked her ID...

She sat in the booth next to Jocelyn. A waitress came up. "We have bottled blood for a reasonable price," she offered.

"Thanks. A glass, please."

"Coming up!"

Tara listened. She was aware somebody had joined Jocelyn.

"Joculatrix, isn't it?" That voice--Ben? What was Ben doing here?

"Yep, pretty boy. Long time no see."

"Not long enough."

"So...how's the Glorious One?" Tara nearly gasped out of habit. She gripped the handle of her sword. If need be, this place was about to become the site of a massacre.

"Bitchy."

Jocelyn laughed. "Ain't she always?"

Ben sighed. A very tired sigh. With an undercurrent of anger. "What do you want?"

"Thought maybe Glory might like to chat. You know, swap stories, share a few jokes."

Silence. "You're kidding."

"Yep." Laughter. Something wrong with it.

The waitress brought a wineglass to Tara, over two-thirds filled with blood. She paid and took a sip. Not bad. Some preservative but it had clearly been microwaved in an attempt to bring it up to body temperature. Not quite there, but still.

"So why'd you want to talk to me?"

"Just saying hi, like I said."

While sipping, Tara pondered the seeming innocence of the conversation she was listening to. All kinds of silent alarms were going off in her head. Clearly, this Ben--the doctor--he was a messenger between Jocelyn (or "Joculatrix") and Glory. Maybe they were talking in code? Yes, that could easily be it...

"I don't believe you."

"Hey! Can't a girl look up old friends?"

"You and I aren't friends. Neither are you and Glory. She has worshippers and enemies, not friends."

Tara readied her sword. She was carefully laying out her next moves. By going all out, she was sure killing Ben would be no problem. There was not way anyone short of a Slayer could match her speed. The problem was--how many other minions might Glory have here? Following Ben? As backup, or just insurance.

Safer to kill them all, really.

"But you and I are friends, aren't we Benny?"

"Don't call me Benny. And no, we're not."

If only I'd thought to bring some hand grenades, thought Tara. As it was, all she could think to do was set fire to the bar after locking all the exits. Waiting outside, she could behead everyone leaving, one by one. But how best to manage it?

"C'mon!"

"You're just intrigued because your powers never work on me."

"Friendships have to grow from somewhere."

"Not from that!" He got up to leave. Damn! Tara realized she'd have to follow him. She moved as stealthily as she could. En route to the door where Ben was headed, though, a clawed hand reached out and touched her arm.

"Don't I know you?" The face that said it looked equal parts goat and warthog.

"No. Good night."

"Hey! You were with us when we broke out of that army base, weren't'cha?"

"The Initiative? Yeah. Nice to see you got out alive. See you later." Ben was getting away! Tara nearly ran out the door.

* * *

Willow gasped as Anya finished telling her what happened.

"She was actually going to kill the entire bar?"

Anya took a quick look around. They were having a picnic in the middle of the UCS quad. She nodded. "But she changed her mind soon after."

"Guess that makes it definite. Jocelyn must be a Moon Demon."

"Joculatrix. That's her real name. And that does explain why Tara got so willing-to-do-violence all of a sudden."

"But that leaves us with another problem."

"How to fight her?"

"Yeah! I mean, she drives people crazy just by being near them! How do you attack somebody like that?"

"In the old days we used build golems to do the work for us. Arm them with arrows dipped in frog's breath oil."

"Do you know how to make a golem."

"It wasn't my job."

"So, still have the same problem here."

The ensuing silence seemed a lot longer than it was. Anya finally said "Tara has an idea."

Chapter 18

Willow and Anya watched and listened. It occurred to Willow this was a very odd situations--having a vampire explain things to a robot. But then, this was Sunnydale.

"You are saying that Warren has been hurt by demons?" April had stopped smiling. For the first time in days. Possibly ever.

"Exactly."

"Define hurt, please."

"Warren has been driven insane. He doesn't recognize anything around him. The fact is, he's in worse shape that Xander.

Anya's boyfriend?"

The robot blinked. "Warren is like Xander?"

"He's worse."

April rose instantly. "I must protect him."

"No!"

"Yes--that is what I must do!"

"What you need to do," interrupted Tara, "is help us cure him. That way, he won't be in any danger any more. And he'll know who you are."

Even though she was sure it was her imagination, Willow swore she could hear circuits blowing out inside April's head. In fact, she was sure the robot simply remained still while processing this. Yet the pause had the same effect. Evidently, this wasn't a scenario Warren had installed in her behavior parameters. Not surprisingly.

"I think you are correct," said April. "I must help cure Warren. Do you know a way I can help cure Warren?"

"We think so," said Tara. "But it will be difficult. And unpleasant."

"Warren loves me," was the robot's answer. "And I love Warren. I must do whatever I must."

Tara nodded. She glanced at Willow, who smiled back. Now came the ugly part. The only cure they were sure of for both Xander and Warren was to feed them the heart of a Moon Demon. Part of her was glad to have discovered that Jocelyn, the halfbreed she'd brought from Los Angeles, was one. In fact, it made a kind of sense. The Caritas Host had said she had to bring Jocelyn--or Joculatrix--back to Sunnydale. At the time she'd wondered why. Now, it made a kind of sense. But it made an icky, terrible sense. She knew this demon, had enjoyed her company. Plus, her attitude towards demons had undergone a radical change after falling in love with Tara.

Now it was Tara who reached out to touch Willow's hand. "Its not just for Xander and Warren," she reminded Willow. "Jocelyn knows about the Key. And she wanted to talk to Glory."

"I know."

"Personally," piped in Anya, "I have no trouble with doing this."

"Doing what? What do I have to do?" inquired April. Before anyone could answer the phone rang. Anya immediately sprang across the room, reaching it before the second ring had finished.

"Hello" she said. "Yes, Willow's here." She looked at the others and mouthed the name Giles. Then the expression on her face froze. In shock? Fear? Both? Anya's jaw moved, as if she was trying to find something to say but could think of nothing. What had happened? For a terrible moment Willow feared something had happened to Dawn. Then Anya pinned Willow with her eyes, holding the phone out to her. Clearly, whatever the news she'd heard had struck her dumb.

Refusing to let go of Tara's hand, Willow crossed the room and took the phone in hand.

"Hello?"

"Willow?" Giles sounded exhausted.

"Yeah. Giles, what's happened?"

"I'm sorry to have to tell you, but...its Joyce." The silence stretched long enough for Willow to know what was coming next. "She's dead. Buffy found her."

A sound made Willow turn around. There was Anya, seated on the sofa, and emitting another nearly-inaudible sob.

"What is wrong?" asked April.

And Willow discovered she had no words.

* * *

Later.

After the tears and the silences and Anya babbling about how life didn't make sense. Sensing her distress Xander had become hysterical, until Tara managed to get him to swallow some medication. In the end, she'd gotten Anya to take a sleeping pill.

Then came the funeral, which Tara heard about second hand. Buffy had gone strongly silent. Riley wouldn't leave her side. Giles was drinking. And Dawn, poor Dawn. Coming apart one moment, the next withdrawn to untouchability. She, at least, was snapping back to something like normal. Unless that was a symptom of something worse.

Willow still found herself weeping at odd moments. That's when Tara felt her unbeating heart, as it seemed torn out of her chest. Having lost her own mother, Tara recalled too well how it hurt. Joyce Summers had clearly been something of a mother to all the Scoobies. Including Willow.

Somewhere in this neighborhood, muttered Tara to herself like a mantra. This was the area of Sunnydale where Buffy killed the snake creature. And here was where Jocelyn met Ben. Glory's home must be somewhere here. Buffy had described Glory's minions as "hobbits with leprosy," according to Willow. So Tara scanned carefully for hobbits.

Or Ben the friendly intern. Tara was prepared to search all night, even well into the day if need be (thanks to the Ring of Amara). Unfortunately, the plan to take out Jocelyn had to take a back seat right now. Once they were sure Glory hadn't heard about Dawn being the Key, then they could act. Not until. So here she was, scouting this part of Sunnydale for the third time in as many days since Buffy and Dawn's mother died.

Nothing. So far.

But...wait. What was that? A hooded figure, short, scurrying in the shadows towards a rather nice condominium. Only because she was a vampire could Tara see his face. Like an elf molded from meat going bad. Or a hobbit. He was leading someone--a little man with short white hair. More than anything else he reminded Tara of a friendly grandfather. She hadn't had one of those, as it happened, but the archetype was pretty much universal. The slight crinkle of lips, coupled with an abstracted glance around his surroundings, plus the shuffle of his steps. Oh yes, the image was perfect. And Tara would bet image was all this was.

They entered the condo. And Tara settled in to wait. She couldn't take Glory by herself, so she'd have to focus on getting information. After an hour or so, she noticed someone else searching the same area. Three men, scanning the area with a military precision. More, she noticed an interesting detail.

All three had a distinctive, identical tattoos on their faces.

* * *

Willow thought maybe her head was going to explode. It was too much. Having to deal with Joyce's death was horrible, but carrying on a secret love affair her friends were all (or almost all, remembering Anya) convinced was akin to heroin addiction fairly shredded her nerves. Plus having to protect the Key. And being one of the few to realize Jocelyn was driving everyone around her mad.

Still, Willow managed not to show it as she arrived (with Riley as over-protective escort) to the Magic Shoppe for the meeting. The reason for this meeting remained a secret, so she had a sinking feeling the reason involved her.

Inside, a large assortment of weapons was laid out on the table. Axes, swords, a mace. Buffy, Dawn and Giles all wore simple, rugged clothes. They also pretty much radiated purpose. Giles had been pacing. Seconds after Willow entered, she was pinned by Buffy's stare.

"Willow."

"Uh, hi Buffy. How're you doing?"

"Better. And I'll be better yet." The smile that went with those words did anything but reassure. Visions of medical experiments came to Willow looking at that smile. Dawn, seated, looked up at her sister adoringly. This. Was. Bad. "Wil," said Buffy as she neared her best friend, "I've been doing some research."

"Oh, that's good. Isn't it?" Her voice almost didn't tremble.

"Have you ever heard of a Ghora?"

"Ghora? I think...that's some kind of demon, isn't it?" Seemed like a safe bet.

At that moment, Giles gave Willow a hearty slap on the back. "Good girl!"

"We know where to find one," added Riley conspiratorially.

"Do we want to find one?"

"Yes!" said Buffy.

"Absolutely!" added Dawn.

"It is the only way" said Giles, nodding.

Buffy began picking up the weapons and passing them out. She handed a battleaxe to Willow, who looked at it with more than a little worry. Whatever her insane friends had planned, it certainly looked unpleasant.

"You see," said Giles, testing the heft of a broadsword, "the egg of a Ghora is the essential ingredient in the resurrection spell."

"Resurrection spell?"

"Exactly!" Giles seemed absurdly pleased at Willow's repeating his words. He even grinned.

"We're bringing back Mom!" yelled Dawn.

Buffy smiled at her sister, the both of them aglow. "That's right, Dawn," she said encouragingly, "we're bringing her back."

"That's...I mean...isn't that a really, really tricky kind of spell to be trying, Buffy? I mean, think of all the things that could go wrong!"

"I am thinking of that Wil. That's why we need you to actually do the spell itself."

"M-M-M-M-EEEE?"

"Of course! You're the only one around here with that kind of experience."

"B-b-b-ut, what about Anya?"

"She needs to take care of Xander."

Willow looked at the four sets of eyes, each aimed at her full of confident hope, and wanted very much to run away. Fast. Or, maybe turn invisible.

"I don't know if I can," she offered, hopefully.

"The spell itself," offered Giles, "is surprisingly simple. All that's truly, truly difficult is getting the ingredients. Hence," he indicated his broadsword. "Oh! It might interest you to know that the Ghora demon may be the basis for legends of Cerberus, the three headed hound said to guard the underworld."

"So this Ghora, its kinda like a great big dog?"

"No. It has three heads!"