Title: Demons, part 3 of a larger series
Author: TwiLightJoy/Joy C
Email:
Distribution: Email me, and I will say yes.
Feedback: Pleeeeeeeeeease!
Setting: Takes place around the time of The Wish and ends just before Amends, in Season 3.
Other Stuff: I don't claim ownership, I only love them.
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Chapter 1

Tara untied and hung up her apron, then pulled her lightweight Army surplus jacket on. She did a quick cross-and-stake-check and found that both items were still in her jacket pockets. Good to go. Time to head home.

It had been actually pretty easy to accept the whole idea of vampires. Knowing that magic was real, and demons were all too real, vampires really weren't all that much of a stretch. Just taking the proper measures became habit after a couple days, and it had now been almost two weeks. She still hadn't run into a vampire on her own, but according to Buffy, Xander, Willow, and Mr. Giles, it wasn't that uncommon. It was much better to be prepared for the ever-present chance of vamp encounter.

Since the day Willow and Xander had taken her to Buffy, the little group had invited her into their circle. Most times she stuck with Michael and Amy, but she also occasionally joined the 'Scooby Gang,' as Xander called them, in the library or for lunch, and even a few times at the Bronze. As far as the group's social life went, Cordelia was still not speaking with Xander. Or rather, they just traded bitter barbs in the hallways. Buffy had this really confusing relationship with a vampire, Angel. Oz had remained on the fringes of the Scooby Gang, talking mostly only to Buffy and Mr. Giles. He still avoided Willow, and Willow still seemed almost as upset about that as before. How lucky could the guy be, Tara wondered on many occasions, to have Willow fall for him? She was honest, sweet, devoted, intelligent, funny – in short, as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. If only … if only Willow could at least come to see how special she was to Tara.

Tara had, in her spare time, been reading up and practicing some spells on her own and discussing magic with Amy and Michael, but still hadn't brought the topic up with Willow or the other Scoobies, despite the fact that Willow had hinted that she knew Tara was a witch. For now, Tara preferred it to be private, and unfortunately, the times she was alone with Willow had been all too few. Hopefully that would change. A couple of times, she had tried to get in touch with her cousin Beth, but had been unsuccessful. Maybe this weekend would be better, she thought hopefully.

The fair-haired young woman waved good night to Denise and headed out the back door of the Espresso Pump, taking a deep breath of the night air. She pulled a dark knit cap out of her inside jacket pocket and pulled it down snugly. It was actually pretty warm out for mid-December, and Tara was, for some reason, pretty excited for the whole holiday deal. Solstice, Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanzaa. Tara's family had been Christmas people - her father's side, anyway - but it didn't really hold many special memories for the witch. Mostly because her family really only got together a few times a year, Christmas being one of those times. So "holiday memories" usually just meant getting yelled at for something or other and being punished too harshly, just like usual only in front of everyone. At least when her mother had been around, there had been something to look forward to.

The Wiccan crossed the street, walking past the old magic shop. Another aspiring merchant had purchased most of the old store's inventory and a newer, bigger magic shop had opened around the corner. Other than that, downtown Sunnydale looked pretty much like it usually did this time of night – sort of bleak in spite of the glitzy holiday decorations, almost like a ghost town. And there were worse things than ghosts on the street, she knew. Things she would rather not meet up with. Tara picked up her pace a little bit, the soles of her scuffed boots making a steady tamp, tamp, tamp on the sidewalk.

Past the jewelry store, the bakery, and several clothing stores she continued. Icicle lights hung in the windows of a few shops; others were lined with garlands and multicolored running lights. It was sort of eerie, actually, the stillness of the seemingly abandoned streets that Tara knew harbored more kinds of monsters than she cared to think about. She wanted to hurry up and get home. One more street, she sighed to herself. Work was really not all that far from home, but having to return late at night inevitably made the walk seem longer. Maybe she would buy a bicycle, she thought with a slight smile, knowing that she wouldn't.

A pair of cats yowled and hissed in the alley the young sorceress passed, the noise so close and sudden it made her stop in her tracks. One of the cats hurriedly dashed out of the alley and directly in front of Tara, and she heard a lone and distant 'tamp' from behind her. Her blue eyes went wide as dinner plates as she hunched her shoulders and reached a hand into her pocket, clutching at the smoothly sanded pine of the stake. She slowly turned around and saw – absolutely nothing. Only an empty plastic bag that rustled its way across the street on a sudden current of air. The petite witch narrowed her eyes and peered into the surrounding shadows suspiciously. Still nothing.

Turning her back on the nothing, Tara continued heading toward her building, the intersection of Court and Main now very close. She kept her hand on the stake and kept her pace measured, though if there was someone following her, they would undoubtedly know that she was now aware of their presence. She listened for footfalls on the street behind her as she went, but her breathing had begun to come harsher, her pulse rate increasing. Her hand felt overly warm and damp inside her pocket as she tightened her grip on the stake.

Unable to take it, the girl spun on her heel, expecting to see someone, or at the very least a mysterious, shadowy figure. Again, the street, sidewalk, and shadows were devoid of anything she could perceive. She turned back around and jogged for the spot-lit green and yellow sign reading "Court Street Apartments" on the building's tiny, scrubby lawn.

Tara reached her left hand into her pocket, fumbling for her keys on the stairway. Finally she managed to pull them out and slip the front door's key into the lock, opening the door and quickly pulling the key ring out to shut the door with a solid metallic bang. Leaning back against the door, she let out a long, deep sigh and pulled the cap from her head. She started up the stairs with heavy steps, now pretty tired out from the little evening jog she'd had.

She made it up the flight of stairs and into her apartment, dropping her cap and sliding out of her jacket, letting it fall to the floor as she pushed the door closed with one foot. With a deep exhalation, Tara plopped onto the couch and reached for the phone.