For the record, spontaneity sucked. Willow wondered how anyone survived living by the seat of their pants. As Tara drove down the 101, Willow killed her phone battery calling every mid-range hotel and motel in the Bay area.

"Hey," Tara's voice interrupted her nine hundredth call. "St-stop worrying. We'll be fine." One hand reached across the center console and stroked Willow's leg. "We don't have to stay at a five-star hotel."

"The one-star hotels are out of our budget." Frustration tightened Willow's muscles and another headache sprang to life.

The hand on her leg never stopped its soothing motion. "Then we sleep in a park."

Willow's head snapped around at the outrageous comment. "Are you crazy?" Her voice crackled with irritation, only to fizzle into nothing at the sight of Tara's smirk. "Why do I love you again?" she mumbled, unable to keep from grinning at the way Tara had played her.

"You said someth-thing about a th-thing I did with my tongue," Tara answered.

"Tara!" Willow stared at her girlfriend in shock. "What…you…" She couldn't find the words. What had happened to shy Tara? "You kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?" Willow finally asked.

The question made Tara laugh. "I don't know, Will. Do I?"

"I think your friend needs to check you for possession. Who are you and what have you done with the girl I met in a Wicca Wanna-be meeting?" Willow linked her fingers with Tara's, squeezing to let Tara know she wasn't really complaining.

Tara lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of Willow's fingers. "I fell in love with a beautiful girl and grew up," she said quietly. "I promise everything will work out, sweetie. We've saved the world more than once. A little thing like Godly possession? Just a tiny bump in the road."

It was such a sweet lie. Willow didn't comment on just how much more than a "tiny bump" Osiris could be.

"Make reservations at whatever hotel is closest to the address Siobhan gave us." The San Francisco High Priestess hadn't invited them to her home or to the Coven's main meeting hall. They'd agreed to meet in a neutral location. "This is too important for us to worry about our budget."

"Got it." Willow did. Dread coalesced into a heavy rock in her stomach. A rock that grew and moved like lava into her throat. She quickly dialed a Super 8 not far from the airport. "Hi, I need to reserve a room." She dug her wallet out of her backpack and rattled off the numbers on her debit card when asked. Through it all, Tara's hand never released hers. The soothing swipe of Tara's thumb over her fingers never faltered.

The entire transaction took minutes. Willow marveled again at her girlfriend. Tara was take-charge, take no prisoners now. A good thing, considering Willow now struggled to make good decisions (or any decisions). "We're all set. I don't know how close it is to the meeting site, but we'll have a place to sleep."

"And you will sleep, sweetie. I brought something to help with that." Tara turned her head long enough to give Willow a determined stare. "There's a vial in my bag."

Goddess. A vial. Some horrible-tasting potion that Willow knew down to her bones would do nothing for her recent bout of insomnia.

"Don't look at me with that tone, Willow Rosenberg," Tara said, this time with her attention completely on the road.

Willow rolled her eyes, held back a resigned sigh, and reached for the bag in question. Tara's battered knapsack had definitely seen better days. Careful stitches mended a multitude of tears. Two burn marks darkened the strap. Inside, Willow spotted Tara's most prized possessions: her mother's Book of Shadows and the book of spells Willow had given Tara on their first anniversary.

Buried beneath the detritus, Willow located a brown vial. It wasn't labeled. "Are you sure this isn't liquid sunlight?" she asked. "I don't want to look like a Halloween pumpkin with a super-bright glowstick inside."

"Yes, Will. I thought we'd try to lay low during our vacation," Tara said. "What better way to hide out than to have a girlfriend who shines brighter than the California sun?"

Willow uncapped the vial. "One day, I'm going to find out where you're hiding the girl I met at the Wicca group." She tossed back the tincture with only a grimace and shudder for the taste. If only she'd had some tea to pour it in. Ugh.

"What? You don't like the new me?" Tara was smiling, yet Willow sensed she'd come close to sending Tara back to hiding beneath a waterfall of hair.

She squeezed Tara's hand – and didn't stop. "I love you. Old You, New You, and any In-Between You I haven't met yet." With a shrug, Willow tried to explain. "Even though I know you're strong, I mean, you survived so much…" She avoided the details. Goddess, they'd both be crying and depressed if she brought all that up. "But I sometimes forget how sexy it is when you get all 'grrr' and take charge."

Her words surprised a giggle from Tara. "Sexy? Why, Willow, who knew you preferred the strong, silent type."

A flush heated Willow's cheeks but she didn't back down. "Only if that 'strong, silent' woman is you, Tar."

"Flatterer." They fell silent, content to hold hands as the miles disappeared beneath the tires. Tara hummed along with the radio.

Willow closed her eyes, letting the whir of the tires and Tara's voice lull her into a meditative state. Her mind emptied of all the recent worries. There was only the in and out of her breath paired with the rhythmic beat of her heart. In. Thump. Out. Thump. Over and over.

Pinpricks of energy flared suddenly.

Then were gone.

Sparks! Willow focused inward searching for the source of the firestorm of energy.

Nothing. The landscape of her mind was empty. Calm. The latent energy in her channels flowed smoothly, and the reservoir of power she kept on hand barely rippled.

Meditative peace slipped away as Willow actively self-checked. Where had that damned energy come from? No matter how much she dug into her own magic and the latent energy in the landscape, she couldn't find the source.

Even when the energy spikes continued.

Contentment fled. Willow's eyes shot open. "I want you to scan me when we get to the hotel."

The car swerved as Tara jumped in response to Willow's unexpected announcement. "What?"

"I want you to scan me. As soon as we get to the hotel." Willow's hands fisted on her knees. "I saw something. Just now."

"Where?" Tara flicked the headlight to high, and the road lit up in front of them.

If only… "Not out there," Willow said. Her voice faded into an uncomfortable mumble. "In…inside." Her feet shifted against the footwell. "I dozed a little. Um, meditated."

She heard Tara's indrawn breath. Saw her hands tighten on the steering wheel.

"There were energy surges, Tara. But it wasn't my energy; I wasn't controlling them, and they didn't come from me." The terror Willow had been trying to hide slipped out on the last word, turning it into a tight whisper.

The steady hum of the engine changed, and Willow felt the car accelerate. "Change in plan. We'll check in to the hotel after we meet with Siobhan. I don't care if she doesn't trust that you won't burn down her altar. I'm done playing games."


By the time Tara parked the car outside Siobhan's Mission District apartment, Willow was wound tighter than a bowstring. This wasn't going to go well. There was no way this wasn't going to be a complete disaster.

Her hands gripped Tara's knapsack so hard her fingers were white.

"Will," Tara's warm hands gently settled over hers. "Sweetie, stop. Don't do this. All Siobhan and her Coven are going to do is scan you."

All. Willow bit her lip to stave off a flood of words. Angry words. Fear fled in the face of white-hot anger. The small electrical pulses she'd sensed while meditating flared so bright and sharp in her mind they left images behind.

The world tilted. The stars disappearing from the night sky.

No! Willow screamed the word silently as Tara's voice filled the car. Power wrapped around her in a warm, comforting blanket – only to be repulsed as Willow, or the thing inside Willow, shoved it away. Light and Dark met inside the front seat. Tara's magic shone white and pure, but tendrils of inky black rippled through the cool light.

Something inside Willow called to her. A siren song built in shadow. A promise of power.

The call was alien. Terrible and twisted. Ancient and all-powerful.

Willow fought that call with every fiber of her being. She was fighting herself. Her channels, calm and unblemished only minutes before, turned into uncontrollable waves of raw energy. Her reservoir threatened to overflow the barriers around it.

She reached for the magic but couldn't hold on. Her mind burned. Maybe she screamed. Willow lost her sense of self; lost her anchor on the physical world. Swept up in a sea of power, she slipped beneath the swells.

The energy was cold and heavy. It held Willow captive. She fought. Tried to fight. Grabbed at the magic swirling around her with both ephemeral hands. Two tiny handfuls of power against a tsunami. Willow ignored the odds of beating back the force controlling her magic. She'd helped save the world countless times. Losing odds? Nothing new. No big deal.

Holding the magic close, she pushed. Not against the rest of the energy. No. Fighting was pointless. Instead, she drove the tendrils "downward" toward her center. Ground and center. The first rule of magic. Establish a base. One handful at a time, Willow set the pillars that would hold her steady.

The first few pillars set easily, as if the force whipping up her magic didn't consider Willow's effort worthwhile. Then, as Willow's foundation took shape, that changed. The force surrounding her crashed against the pillars. Raw power unleashed with a single purpose: to destroy.

The attempt failed. Once. Twice. By the third attempt, Willow had managed to siphon enough energy to expand the foundation. She fought for every increment of mental space. If there hadn't been so much magic already running wild, Willow would have collapsed. She let the magic consume her instead.

Fire burned where her veins had once been. Each breath fanned the conflagration in her mind. But Willow knew the magic was hers. Whoever or whatever had started this fight was going down.

They battled over mystical inches of turf, over each tributary of Willow's magical channels. Time had no meaning. Seconds, hours, days… They simply didn't exist. Willow gained ground – and then lost it. Pushed back the Darkness only to have it slip passed her to chip away at her foundations again.

Finally, though, Willow seized the looming mental structure holding her reservoirs. She slammed the barriers over the conduits to her power. Except for one. That one tiny opening she mined with reckless abandon, letting the power build and build until her body hummed with energy.

Then she turned that energy back on itself in a single, concussive blast. Her own scream mixed with another eldritch howl.

Panting, Willow closed the reservoir tightly; checked that the rest of her channels ran clean and then opened her eyes. "Taaaraaa?" Her voice dragged drunkenly over the syllables.

Red-rimmed blue eyes peered back at her. "What happened?"

Willow tried to answer. "Someone…channels…" Something warm and wet splashed onto her hand. Blood. One drop became twenty, until a steady stream fell. Her body was too heavy to move.

"Goddess, you're a mess, sweetie." Tara pressed a tissue to Willow's nostrils. "We…"

A knock startled them both. Three women and two men peered in the driver's window until Tara rolled it down. "What in the Goddess' name are you doing?" It wasn't really a question. "If we hadn't come out and warded the car, you'd have lit this entire neighborhood up like the Fourth of July!"

A giggle from out of nowhere escaped. Once she started laughing, Willow couldn't stop. She'd been in a life or death battle in her own mind, and this woman was worried over a few pyrotechnics?

"Come inside. You've already broadcast your location to any mystical being in this hemisphere." The woman crossed her arms. "I've got a lot of questions for you."