Author's Note: I am so totally sorry both for the length of time it took to get this up and how short it is. RL launched a full-scale offensive and it was all I could do to find time to get this much done for posting. Will try to get future chapters up more quickly, and they'll almost certainly be longer, but RL may strike again at any moment, so sorry in advance if it does.

Author's Note #2: Also, I'm pretty much past the point of being able to integrate the current season. RL has been keeping me from the TV for better than a month now so I have no idea what's going on. Consider this kind of an AU season 7 at this point. Among other things Anya never went bad again (because I didn't see those eps, lol) and Spike's out of town because I have no clue what's up with his character right now (in addition to not much liking him).

Chapter 6 -- Spirit Guide

"They're both fine," Anya told Buffy with a shrug after giving Willow and Giles a quick once-over.

"That's funny," Dawn said, frowning. "Because from where I'm sitting, they look more catatonic and less fine…"

"Comatose," Anya corrected her, looking thoughtfully around the room.

"And how is that fine, exactly?" Buffy asked, shaking her head.

"Their souls are… off somewhere." Anya shrugged and rose, looking around the bedroom as she spoke. "But their bodies are unharmed and their souls must still be fine or their bodies would be having trouble, too. Their souls are probably not in any immediate danger. Ah." She held up a small bag made of black silk and tied with a silver cord.

"'Immediate danger' being an incredibly relative term on the Hell-mouth," a voice contributed from the door. "Especially when your soul is not in your body where it belongs."

Buffy looked up with a weak smile. "Hey, Xander. Thanks for coming."

Ignoring his arrival, Anya fished a few fingers-full of powder out of the bag in her hands and walked over to Willow and Giles. She sprinkled some of it over them, then blew the rest into the air, muttering as she did so. The powder swirled through the air over their bodies and two tendrils of energy made themselves seen, one coming from each body at the chest, snaking through the air several times and then seeming to vanish into the floor. Anya stared for a moment. Willow's was silvery-blue, the one coming from Giles almost black. Both appeared healthy. The two tendrils were intertwined several times, which was fairly unusual. Obviously there had been a massive transfer of energy taking place between them.

"The good news is that they're still anchored," she informed the others.

"Meaning?" Xander asked.

"Their souls are still tangibly linked to their bodies. Should make it easy to find their way back when they're… done."

"Done doing what, exactly?" Buffy asked. "Can you tell?"

Anya looked around again, taking a deep breath. She could still smell cedar-smoke in the air, and jasmine, too, she thought. Her eyes fell on something almost concealed because Giles had fallen across it. She gingerly tugged it out from under him, careful not to shift his body at all, and watched the tendrils shift. She nearly dropped the black mirror as the implications of that made themselves clear to her.

"What is it?" Dawn asked, staring.

"Black mirror. Used for Divination," Anya told her, carefully placing it on the ground between Willow and Giles. "They're inside."

"Beg your pardon?" Xander asked, gaping.

"Their souls are in the mirror," Anya said, shrugging.

"Well, how do we get them out?" Buffy asked.

"We don't," Anya told her.

"We can't just leave them in there!" Dawn protested.

"We try to pull them out before they're ready to come, or if they're being held back, and their connections might snap," Anya told her. With her typical forwardness, she added, "Their souls would be lost in there. Forever."

Xander stared down at them, horrified. "What do we do, An?" he whispered.

"We don't." She shook her head apologetically. "We can't interfere, not at this level. The amount of power involved in whatever spell they were doing… It would kill any one of us. Besides, for all we know, the spell worked."

"If this is what happens when the thing works, I'd hate to see what happens when things go south," Buffy muttered, shaking her head.

Anya shook her head. "Divination. It's about seeing things. There's only so much that can be seen on this Plane. This thing, though," she said firmly, pointing at the mirror. "It's a link, a junction. There's nothing you can't see in there. Past, present, or future. You want to know something that can't be known here, this is what you use."

"You look into them!" Dawn protested. "You don't go into them."

"Unless there's no other way." Anya shrugged. "What were they trying to find out anyway?"

"Oh, there's another apocalypse coming," Buffy muttered in disgust. "It was probably about that. Had Giles a little on edge, I guess."

Anya shook her head. "I guess." She looked up at the others. "Look, we keep their bodies warm and safe. It's the only thing we can do until something changes. Someone should be with them constantly."

Buffy shook her head. "You guys take turns. I really need to kill something," she told them. She really hated feeling helpless. Slayage sometimes helped.

"Might be better to see if you can beat some information out of something," Anya suggested helpfully. "See if you can find out what's coming."

Buffy shrugged. "Hey, so long as it involves carnage and a good cardiovascular workout. Dawnie, you want to come?"

"You're going to let me go Slaying on a school night?" she asked, grinning and rising.

"Hey, I think when two of your best friends are in a coma you're entitled to take the day off."

"Cool. I'll grab my cross and meet you downstairs."

Xander shook his head as he watched them go. "Gotta love the sisterly bonding," he said, sinking the floor next to Anya. "Although until I met Buffy I always just assumed that sisterly bonding involved doing each other's hair and nails instead of killing demons."

Anya smiled and wisely observed, "The family that Slays together stays together."

***

"Tara?" Giles asked in a shaky voice. "Is that you?"

The voice that came back to them through the darkness was unmistakably that of the slain Wicca. "I thought you guys might need a hand."

"Baby?" Willow whispered, tears in her eyes. She rose slowly and started towards Tara's voice. "Wh… what are you doing here? You shouldn't be here. You should be in Heaven. Are you stuck here? Oh…" Willow sobbed in the darkness, startled to abruptly feel two sets of arms around her. She recognized both from long experience. Giles behind her, Tara in front. She clung to both, crying.

"I'm not stuck, baby," Tara assured her gently. "I can come and go freely between Earth and the Summerlands. I do all the time to check up on both of you. I'm here now because you need help."

"Tara, how are you able to be tangible?" Giles asked gently, taking his hands from Willow to allow her to enjoy Tara's embrace without intrusion.

He was absolutely certain that it was indeed Tara, could feel her beautiful and familiar soul, but he was confused by the fact that he had put his arms around Willow to find that Tara had been able to do the same. It should not have been possible. Tara was dead and had not, to the best of his knowledge, been raised or transmigrated. So how was she able to touch the woman she loved?

"It's the mirror, Giles," Tara explained. "I think it's because it's a link to the past, when I did have a body. I can't manifest myself on Earth, just here and some of the outer Planes." She traced her fingers over Willow's face. "I was so worried about you after I died. I'm glad you're all better now," she whispered.

"I wish I could see you," Willow whispered, her voice shaky.

Giles smiled sadly at the reunion unfolding before him, wishing that they could at least have had some privacy. Unable to provide that, he murmured a quiet spell that illuminated the area in which they were standing with a soft, blue-black glow.

Tara smiled radiantly at Giles. "Thank you," she whispered before turning her attention back to Willow. "You look great, baby."

"So do you, sweetheart," Willow whispered, smiling through her tears.

As much as she had wanted to be able to see Tara's sweet face again, she had been afraid, too, worried about what Tara might look like almost a year after her death. Some part of her had half-expected Tara to look like something out of a horror-movie. But she was exactly as Willow remembered her, only more serene and more lovely, as if she was lit from within.

"You're even more beautiful now," Willow whispered, reaching up and tracing her face with her fingertips.

"I know." Tara smiled at her. "I've found peace."

As the reunited lovers whispered to each other, Giles made a determined study of his surroundings, conscientiously ignoring the girls. The ground was indeed covered with sand. Black in color, it sparkled in the supernaturally-created light and shifted in spite of a notable lack of wind. The sands of time, perhaps? He scoffed at the foolish fancy and turned his eyes to the horizon. Not that he could make out much beyond a distance of ten or so feet. The blue-black light did not really lend itself to seeing anything very distinctly, even up close, and the color of the sand merely compounded the limitation.

"Giles," Tara murmured, joining him.

He looked up, startled, but smiled at the girls. "Yes, Tara?"

"You're here to find out what's coming?" Tara guessed.

Willow and Giles both nodded.

"Can you tell us?" Willow asked hopefully.

Tara shook her head regretfully. "I wish I could, but there are… rules. I can only help you find your answers, not give them to you myself."

"But you can help us?" Giles asked.

Tara nodded. "They tell me that it's kind of unusual that I'm actually allowed to do that much."

"They?" Giles repeated.

"The… powers that be." Tara shrugged. "Can't tell you about them, sorry."

"I understand," Giles assured her. "Why are they letting you help us?"

Tara shook her head uncertainly. "I'm not honestly sure. They said something about… the battlefield is different this time."

"There are more fields of battle than the battlefield," Giles murmured.

"Sounds like something Cuchulain would say," Willow observed.

He smiled faintly. "It is. He told me that very thing this morning." He glanced at Tara, pretty in a flowing green gown, wearing flowers in her hair. "What must we do?"

"I'm not entirely sure," she confessed quietly. "Death does not automatically bring omniscience." She gave a helpless shrug. "But all the answers you seek are here if you know where to look." Smiling faintly, she jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "Hey, I didn't say a word…" she added, smiling shyly.

Giles chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I have missed you, Tara."

"I've missed you, too," he agreed. "Shall we, then, ladies?"

***

"You think they'll be okay?" Xander asked Anya, sighing as he returned to the room with two blankets.

She nodded up at him from where she sat next to Giles. "If they were in distress, we'd know. For the time being, they aren't. Whatever is going on in there, it's not dangerous to them. Yet," she added, shrugging.

Xander sighed at the amendment. Only Anya. At least a guy never had to worry about her lying to him. "We would know though?" he asked to be sure. He dropped one of the blankets on the bed and unfolded the other before spreading it over Willow.

She smiled gently up at him, rising. He loved Willow, always had. It was different from the kind of love he had and maybe still did feel for Anya herself, but it was a strong attachment anyway. This was tearing him apart. She spread the other blanket over Giles, then knelt on the floor near Willow.

"Come here," she told Xander, beckoning. "You know how to take a person's pulse?" she asked.

Xander nodded. First aid had been a requirement for his last promotion.

"Feel Willow's pulse? You feel how steady it is?"

Xander felt for her pulse and nodded. "Yeah. Strong, too."

"As long as her pulse, temperature, and respiration are where they would be if she's conscious, she's in no danger, Xander," Anya promised. "You can keep an eye on her that way."

He smiled faintly at her. "Thanks, An."

"Xander," Anya began slowly. "She's strong, powerful. She'll be fine."

He looked up at her, startled. "You think?"

"If anyone can survive this, it's these two, Xander. They're not stupid. They'd have gone into this knowing what could happen. They wouldn't have unless they were confident of success." She hesitated. "Neither of them is going to throw their lives away, Xander. They're both very committed to everything that you guys work for."


"What about you, An?"

"Of course I am, Xander. I'm still here, aren't I?" She looked up at him. "After you… left me, they invited me back into the fold." She shrugged. "And I'm still here."

"I'm glad," he whispered, sighing. Shaking his head, he took her hands in his. "An, I never meant to hurt you. I was just so scared… You met my family. I didn't want that to be us."

"It wouldn't have been, though. We wouldn't have let it."

"We would have. Neither of us was ready. Neither of us was nearly grown up enough or mature enough." Xander shook his head apologetically. "An, I am so sorry that it got to that point."

"I know. So am I." She shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe it's not lost to us forever."

He smiled faintly. "Be nice."

"Here's hoping." She smiled at him. "It's getting late. Get some sleep, Xander. I'll watch them for awhile."

"Thanks, An." Sighing, Xander climbed onto the bed and closed his eyes. "Wake me up when you need me to take over or if anything changes," he sighed.

"Yeah, Xander. Try to get some sleep now."