Title: What If?

Feedback: *Stands up* Hi my name in Kimberly and I'm a feedback addict :P

Rating: R

Pairing: Willow/Tara,

Summary: What if Willow had been standing in front of the window instead of Tara?

The only sounds in the bright, airy room were of girlish giggling as the occupants cuddled closer together on the large bed. Red hair splayed over alabaster skin as the slighter of the two moved to rest on the well endowed chest of her lover. Long, tapered fingers ran gently the length of the crimson strands. Cat like mewling caused ruby lips to smile and blue eyes to twinkle merrily. "We really should get dressed," was whispered with a kiss into a pink ear.

"No." Green eyes pouted grumpily.

"Yes." This pass the fingers tugged the silky strands softly, not to hurt, but to make her point.

Cupid's bow shaped lips formed the perfect pout in response. She didn't like it, but they really did have work to do. That didn't mean she'd make it easy on her lover though. "What'll ya gimme?"

"Hmmm…" Those same long fingers moved straw colored hair behind a perfectly shaped ear as she pretended to think seriously about the question. Without warning she struck, finding the most ticklish spots on her lover's well known body.

Squeals of mirth filled the air, "Tara! Ok! Stop! I give! I give. STOP!" Tickling fingers turned to caressing fingers, and squeals turned to moans. "No, no don't stop."

And with that the taller of the two hopped out of bed. "Cloths…for now." Tara smirked as the pout returned to Willow's face. How she had missed this in their months apart. Never again she silently swore to herself for the thousandth time since she had come back to the Summers' house, back to Willow.

"You are an evil woman Tara McClay, but I love you." The sweet words earned Willow a tender kiss before Tara pulled away and started pulling on her jeans. Still grumbling Willow left the warm confines of their shared bed and started to dress as well. Finally dressed Willow motioned to herself, "look, cloths."

Tara smirked knowing her Willow was still pouting in her own way, she would make it up to her later though, "Mmmm, don't get use to 'em." And with that she used the waistband of Willow's pants to pull her in for a searing kiss followed by a loving hug.

"Xander."

Tara raised an eyebrow at that and pulled away, "not quite the reaction I was going for."

Willow rolled her eyes and walked to the Window. "Here, Xander is here. Talking to Buffy."

Tara nodded in understanding as she pulled a brush from the dresser, "you think they're making up?"

Willow turned from the window to watch her lover and smiled a beautiful smile, "I hope so, that's the best part."

Tara set the brush down smiling too. She started walking toward her love, her Willow, meaning to give her another soul searing kiss before they headed downstairs.

BANG! Absolute silence as time stood frozen, blue and green eyes met and held for and endless second. BANG! Willow's mouth formed a perfect 'O' as Tara flinched from the blood splashed on her chest and face. Willow's blood. Willow cocked her head to the side in confusion, "your shirt," then crumpled to the floor.

"Willow?" Tara caught her lover as she was collapsing, drawing her head close to her chest, rocking her needlessly. "Willow? Baby? Please?" In her panic Tara didn't even think to check for breath, a pulse. She just held her close, rocking, pleading. Willow's blood was flowing freely, coating them both.

Sirens in the distance alerted her to the world. "Hear that darling, help is on the way." Tears didn't fall from blue eyes, the true reality of what was happening had not yet hit home. Slamming doors and Xander's shouts to hurry could be heard from outside. They weren't coming for them, weren't coming to help them, didn't even know something was so terribly wrong on the second floor. Quickly and efficiently Buffy was loaded up, more slamming doors. Screaming sirens were heading away. The desperately needed help was leaving.

Crimson covered fingers gently pushed back hair the same color. "I'm here darling, don't worry love, I'm here." Nonsense words were repeated over and over again. Still rocking, cradling, soothing. So many times of long past were flowing through her mind, happy memories. Leaning forward Tara placed a kiss on the bloody brow, still warm from the vibrant life that once flowed through what was now just a body. Willow's body. Reaching out with her magical senses she tried to find her love…she could always find her. Except this time she couldn't. There was nothing there. An aching hollowness started in Tara's heart, reaching out to encompass her soul.

She never stopped rocking. Didn't notice when Dawn came home. When she screamed, and called 911. Didn't notice anything until strange hands tried to take Willow from her. Her Willow. Clinging more forcefully she buried her head in Willow's shoulder. Refusing to give up her hold. Refusing to let them take her. Refusing to let it be real.

More voices, sad and concerned. Muted background noise to the rhythmic rocking. The rhythm the once beating heart use to carry. A soft prick in her arm, followed by a genuine, "I'm sorry," was followed by darkness. 'Soon my love, we'll be together soon."

Dawn cried. Cried as they placed Willow in a body bag. Cried as they placed Tara on a stretcher. Shock they said. Tara was just in shock, she would be better later, with some time. But she knew better. Knew Tara could never be better without Willow. Just as Willow could never be better without Tara. That was the way it worked, they were soul mates. Gently, ever so gently, Dawn took Tara's hand and held tight as they rode to the hospital.

Walking beside the stretcher, never taking her eyes of Tara's pale face, she didn't notice Xander until she heard the gasp. Looking up she looked into the face of the man she loved. After the feelings of a silly adolescent crush had left, the feelings of true love for the man she now thought of as a brother remained. It was this brother she flung herself to looking for comfort.

Xander's mind reeled. He had been waiting on word from Buffy's doctors when he saw Dawn walking in with Tara. But if Dawn and Tara were here, where was Willow? With gentle movements he pushed Dawn away and wiped her face of tears, "Dawnie, what happened."

Between sobs she explained coming home and finding Willow dead, in Tara's arms. Xander felt the sting of loss immediately, not even trying to hide the tears as they flowed from his eyes. Willow, his oldest friend, his best friend, was gone. Just like that. With a twitch of his finger Warren had snuffed out the life of one, if not two of his best friends. "She wouldn't let go, they had to drug her, god Xander you should have seen Tara's face…" Dawn stopped speaking as sobs wracked her thin frame. Tara's eyes would haunt her for the rest of her life. Dead sky blue eyes without a hint of tears. As if the soul needed to produce them had gone already. Gone with Willow.

"Mr. Harris?" Calm, cool, professional voice. A doctor. Suddenly it hit Dawn. Why was Xander in the emergency waiting room? "Miss Summers lost a lot of blood, but we were able to remove the bullet without to much damage to her shoulder. She's in recovery now, and as soon as she is moved to a ward, you can see her."

"Thank you." Xander spoke quietly. He had felt as Dawn went stiff in his arms, and he didn't know if he had the strength to face the younger Summers.

Dawn looked up, just slightly, peering into Xander's brown eyes. "Buffy?" Fear laced her voice. She had just gotten her sister back, could she survive loosing her again. And on the same day as Willow. Could any of them?

"She was shot, but you heard the doc…hey with slayer healing she'll be out of here in no time." He didn't know if he was consoling her, or himself, but at this point it didn't matter.

An eternity was spent standing there, staring at each other. Time had lost all meaning to both of them. "Mr. Harris…if you follow me I can take you to Miss Summers' room." A polite nurse said, breaking the spell around the solemn sentries.

"Thank you…Our other friend, Tara McClay was brought in, will we be able to see her too."

Again polite distance, "I don't know, but I'll check…"

"Thanks, we'll see Buffy now."

"Of course." The nurse led them through the corridors and stopped outside Buffy's room motioning for them to enter. Tubes and machines were everywhere, covering and almost blocking the small form of Buffy.

Without opening her eyes Buffy spoke into the silence, "tell me they got the bastard."

Xander and Dawn allowed a small bit of light to enter their dark worlds. Buffy, at least, was ok. "No…there's some…something we need to tell you." Xander could barely get past the lump in his throat, and tears stung his eyes.

Finally opening her eyes Buffy looked at her friend and sister. Sad faces peered back at her. To sad to just be over her getting hurt. Dread filled her mind as appalling scenarios reeked havoc on it. "What?"

"Wills…Willow was…after you…" He couldn't say the words. He couldn't tell his best friend that Willow was dead. Shot. Died in her lover's arms.

"Oh god no!" Buffy whispered horrified. He didn't need to say the words. She felt the weight of their meaning hit her with the force of a jackhammer. Visions of Willow's happy face filled her mind even as her eyes spilled tears she didn't even want to try and control. The past few days her best friend had been on cloud nine. How could this have happened? She was gone. Closing her eyes she asked with a painful breath, "Tara?"

"Was there…she held her…" Dawn couldn't bring herself to use their names. As if that would make it someone else, not her family.

"Oh god." Another horrified whisper. "Is she alright?" Such a funny question. Who would be alright after holding their lover as they died?

"They had to sedate her to get her to let go." Dawn croaked. Sobs lodged in her throat making it difficult to talk.

With a certainty that sickened her Buffy knew without a shadow of a doubt that they had lost more than Willow that day. They lost Tara too. Another eternity spent in silence. Memories filling their mourning minds. It would be a day none of them would forget…ever.

The small group huddled around the dreary stone as the drizzling rain soaked them. Four days. Four days since their world changed forever. Four days since they lost such an integral part of themselves.

Willow Danielle Rosenberg

1982 - 2002

Beloved Friend and Lover

Four days since Willow died.

Only Buffy, Dawn, Giles, Xander, and Anya attended the small funeral. No one could locate the often missing Rosenbergs and other friends left their final good byes for another day. Knowing this little group was the most beloved, the ones who would miss Willow most. But there was one person missing.

Tara.

After a few days she had not been better. She woke, but would not speak. Did not ask about Willow, she already knew. Did not cry for the loss of her true love. That would have required her heart, her soul. Both of which had left when Willow did. No, Tara did not get better; she was nothing more than a shell now. Lost in a world all her own, much like when attacked by Glory, but without the mumbled ramblings.

She would not leave the room where she had lost her heart. Would not acknowledge her friends when they told her they were going to the funeral…when the begged her to come as well. She didn't eat, she didn't sleep. She just was. Staring at the window. It had been boarded up, but she could still see the hole. Just as she could still see the bloodstain on the carpet that had been carefully cleaned before she was released from the hospital. And if she tried really hard, she could still hear Willow's musical laugh, filling the room as it had just seconds before…

Before IT happened. Before HE hurt her. Hurt her Willow. Killed her Willow. Murdered HER Willow. For the first time since the moment there was a change in Tara's eyes. They turned from sky blue, to a hellish black with lightning red. It was time HE pay for what he did. In a blink of an eye and a swirl of mist Tara was gone. Yes, it was time.

Heavy panting breaths. Twigs snagged and broken. Leaves whipping about a terrified face. Sprinting away for his very life. A terrified rabbit racing from something higher on the food chain. Silent, pleading prayers to an unforgiving god. An unaccepting devil. Waning energy, fading strength. The brutal pace could not last forever. THINK! A tired brain unwilling to send forth the answers for survival. In this race for life he is not the fittest…and he knows it.

Magic. It could slow her, but could it stop her? A risk he must take. Stop. Pant for breath and shout the words. She's there, mocking his attempt with nothing more than a perfectly arched eyebrow. She simply brushes his strongest magic away as if it were nothing more than an annoying insect. RUN!

No ending. No beginning. No escape. He's become lost in the very woods he led her to. His paling strength fails him as he crashes headlong into a tree. Clinging to it to support the body his legs can no longer. Silence. Deafening in it's intensity. Did he loose her? A rustle in the leaves below him. Nothing. Just one of the many creatures that live on the forest floor. Have to think. Have to escape. Have to live.

SNAP. A twig breaking under a weight it couldn't possibly hope to hold. Is it her? Slanting rays of moonlight cast shadows all around. Moving. Taunting him. Playing with him. Just like her. "What do you WANT?" But he knows the answer before he even asks the question. Revenge. It's hers to be had, and she won't be denied.

A vine half buried in leaves twitches. He doesn't notice. In the blink of an eye it has him. Holding him. Tied to the very tree he was using for support. She's got him now. There is no more running. No more hiding. An eerie calm waves over the woods around him. Not even the friendly creatures of the night are making a sound. She's near.

Pale moonlight reflects off an equally pale face as she slowly steps from the shadows. Obsidian eyes only broken by the blood red strikes of angry lightning. Eyes that look at him, through him. See his very soul…what's left of it. "Please!" Begging. It won't work, but that doesn't stop his lips from forming the words. Pushing them through his tightening throat.

"Please what?" Asked in a quiet, calm voice. As if she wasn't about to kill him. As if she didn't hate him. Simply wishing for clarification on a confusing point. It terrified him even more.

"Don't." Simple answer for a simple question.

"Don't?" So softly spoken it's almost carried away on the barely felt breeze. Another step. She's closer now. He can make out her features more clearly, though he wishes he couldn't. A slight tilt of her head downward, reminiscent of the old Tara. "Did Willow get the chance to beg for her life?" No inflection. No anger. Gently spoken as if asking a spooked horse.

"Please don't do this." His mind boggles. He can't answer the question. Can't. Won't. To do so would make it all the more real.

"No, she didn't, did she?" Tara answers for him, ignoring his plea. There is no mercy in her now cold heart for this man. This man who took her Willow from her.

Left. Right. No one, nowhere to help him. This is his fate. "I didn't mean to kill her." It's not enough to pacify her and he knows it, but he needs time. Time to think. Time to get away. Time for…something.

"No, you didn't." It almost sounded like compassion. "You meant to kill one of our best friends instead." No compassion now.

"Tara?"

Both whip their heads to the side at the intruder's voice. Anyaka. Patron saint of scorned women. She's not there to help him, he realizes with sickening certainty.

A small smile. Just the lifting of one side of full lips. The Tara grin. "Hi Anya, thanks for coming, but I got this."

And Anya has absolutely no doubt about that when she sees those eyes. They're not Tara's eyes. They're the eyes of revenge, something she's seen a lot of over her thousand plus years in this business. So it comes down to this, stop her friend from exercising her right of vengeance, or stand back and watch. Tara is her friend, friends are supportive. She'll stand back and watch.

"Please, help me, stop her." He sees no sympathy on Anya's face. Begging her will do no more good than begging Tara. Excepting his reality, he knows he'll die tonight.

"Have you ever loved someone Warren?" Tara's voice calls out. Still hauntingly calm.

How does he answer? What answer does she want? "I…"

"No then. 'Cause if you had, you would know. Without a doubt. Just know with your whole being." Another tilt of her head, as if she's thinking what to say next. "Have you ever lost someone?"

He sees where this is going now. It doesn't matter what he answers, they're rhetorical questions now. Another quick glance to Anya. She's just standing there, as if also waiting for his answer…or lack thereof.

"No again huh? It hurts Warren. To love. To loose someone. But it devastates when you loose someone you love." Calmly spoken, as if teaching a child an important lesson.

"Tara?" The slayer's voice. The Scoobies are closing in. If her can just stall her long enough. The slayer will save him.

A soft, sweet smile. "So you really think she'll help you? You did kill her best friend after all." His last hope smashed with her quiet words.

"So do it already!" The waiting is worst. He just wants the end he knows is coming.

"Is that what you want Warren? For me to kill you? Set you free from the torment you're feeling inside?" She doesn't wait for an answer; she doesn't care what it is. "That's not going to happen Warren." Such a sweet voice for such a daunting message. "For as quick as you snuffed out her life, the longer I'm going to take on yours."

"Tara?" Dawn now, they're not far off.

Tara felt in her pocket, a small piece of metal burned her fingers. Pulling out she held it up. A bullet. Black stared intensely into brown. "Do you know what this is?" No answer. "It tore her heart apart, did you know that?" A whimper. "She never had a chance." Flat palm as the small piece of deadly metal from within started to float in midair. Another whimper as it got closer to it's intended target.

"Don't. Don't do this." No manly bravado, he doesn't want to die.

The bullet stopped just before reaching his chest. "I'll tell you what Warren…I'll spare your life…" Hope. "If you bring her back." Devastation. "No? Ok then." A nonchalant flick of her wrist and his shirt was ripped apart. Nothing but thrashed threads dangling precariously from his shoulders and arms. Another whimper as the bullet moved closer.

A sickening squishing sound as the bullet ever so slowly pushes through his flesh. Mouth flung open in a silent scream. A slow trickle of blood trailing down a tan chest. Black in the night. Fitting considering his crimes. Wet gurgling coughing as vital organs are destroyed.

"TARA!" A Scooby reunion. The gang's all there. All but Willow. Willow will never again go to a Scooby meeting. Never again sit around the Magic Box and babble away. Never again sneak away in the middle of a research session for smoochies. Never again. What ever they were going to say, it's too late. No one could save him now.

"Oh my god…Tara?" Buffy's horrified gasp. Ignored.

Dark, thick fluid flowing freely from an open mouth. Eyes no longer pleading for life, but for death. Quick. Denied.

"Tara?" Dawn again. A quick questioning glance. "Evidence." A simple reminder. Don't leave any. Dawnie is on her side.

Another flick of her wrist and the vines drop from the tree, no longer holding their captive up he falls to the ground. A swirling black hole opens in the dirt packed floor, intermixed with red lighting. The twin to Tara's raging eyes. Larger, and larger, until the whole of Warren is swallowed up. Still alive, sent to the depths of hell. He should be in good company.

"Tara…your eyes are kinda freaky…y'know…" Xander, as always trying to enter some levity to the situation.

"What now?" Buffy, the voice of action, defying reason.

"Now?" Softly questioning. The same voice as always. It's still Tara. But not.

"Tara come home." No judgment in their eyes, any would have done the same for Willow. But it was her right. And they knew it.

"I…" For the first time she falters. Black flashing to blue, and back again. Home? Willow was home. Now there's no Willow. Now there's no home.

"Tara…please." Dawnie. Sweet little Dawnie.

"Ok." But somehow the statement didn't reach the still black eyes. A step in the right direction. As a group they turn to leave. "Oh…" A forgotten question, but she's gone. "Tara?"

"Where'd she go?" Bewilderment.

"You're not supposed to be here yet." Playful scolding.

"Yes I am, you're here." A soul deep truth.

"I missed you Tara."

"I love you Willow."

"Welcome home love." A loving embrace. A reacquainting kiss. Everything's right with the world again.

"Why?" Deep bone jarring sadness. No answer.

Tara McClay Willow _ Danielle Rosenberg

1980 - 2002 _ 1980 - 2002

Beloved Friend and Lover _ Beloved Friend and Lover

Soul Mates Together Forever

The End.