"And why exactly should I help you?" the Vengeance Demon paused, her eyes shifting from Dawn to the figure of Faith behind her. She felt the Slayer stiffen, heard the unmistakable sound of leather creaking as arms crossed in growing exasperation. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Faith's legendary impatience and temper could be downright dangerous in a situation like this. "Plus, Willow's possibly gone all dark magic," Anya rolled her eyes for emphasis, "and there's no way I'm getting involved with that again." She motioned dramatically to the disaster of her store. The walls and windows were blackened with soot and scored by the intense heat and violence of Willow's agony. An entire section of the ceiling lay in an enormous pile in the center of the room. The milky plastic of a makeshift tarp was the only barrier between the interior and exterior worlds of the store.

"We'll help you fix up the shop," Dawn offered with a weak smile and picked up a broom, but as she began to sweep at the black dust on the floor it became clear quickly that there was no end to it. There was no floor any longer, just ash and soot.

"Oh please. You with your microscopic teenage attention span and kleptomaniac tendencies," she rambled angrily and then turned on Faith, "and you, a murderer slash Slayer which, by the way, is so redundant. I mean, come on. You and Buffy are Slayers. You slay things. Look it up!" she said and finally threw up her hands in disgust.

Faith inhaled sharply behind her and Dawn began to panic. This was it. Faith was going to go all Rogue Slayer and attack Anya and they would never get Buffy and Willow back.

"But" she began, only to be cut off by the totally incongruous sound of laughter behind her. She turned to find Faith openly appraising the vengeance demon, a sultry smile forming on her lips.

"I like her," Faith said with a smirk and Dawn rolled her eyes in disgust. What was it with these people? All the adults in her life were like these total freaks of nature when it came to the rules of attraction. Why would Faith who could have, like, anyone want a nasty old demon? Then again, Buffy had that whole Spike issue. Maybe it was a Slayer thing. And if Faith had seen Anya all veiny and wrinkled she was sure the dark Slayer wouldn't be looking at her in that way that was making her all uncomfortable. And angry.

"What?" the teenager turned on the Slayer in hurt shock. And she wasn't even sure why. Just that this was impossible. "Nobody likes Anya! I mean, except Xander and he's"

"Hello! Standing right here!," Anya interjected. "And that's just not true! I have many friends, like" She stumbled for a moment and then smiled brightly, "Like Tara! Tara was my friend. And not in a lesbian, womyn with a y' love kind of way, so there. You're wrong as usual" she trailed off when she saw the look of pain that the blonde's name brought to Dawn's face. "And see, now you've made me say her name and everyone's going to be all sad."

"Not me," Faith shrugged and slipped her hands in her pockets. "Didn't know the girl." And then she scowled as if she was unhappy with the words.

"Well, then you're lucky," Anya said with a frown, crossing her arms in front of her. It took a moment for the callous words to sink in and Dawn felt the rage swell within her. Why hadn't she seen it earlier? Anya had never really stopped being a vengeance demon. She never really cared about anything, but money and sex.

"'Cause you don't have to miss her." Which pulled all of the air out of the room, all of her rage turning to grief in a moment.

The teenager looked up to find the Vengeance Demon standing under the flapping tarp looking small and sad. And alone. Her eyes wet with tears as she surveyed the devastation of the store. The results of Tara's murder.

Faith finally broke the silence, clearing her throat. "Sorry to interrupt here, but we're kind of on the clock so are you up for this or should we start looking for another witch without the, you know, the whole demon issue?"

"It is not a demon issue!" Anya's forehead furrowed in contempt as she seemed to reach a decision she wasn't entirely happy with. "Stupid humans," she muttered. "Fine. But I'm just going to look. That's it. No promises." Dawn watched Faith nod her assent. "And if Willow's there and her eyes look even slightly dark I don't know any of you. Got it?'

Dawn mimicked the dark Slayer, silently nodding her agreement. "Thanks Anya"

"Don't." the Vengeance Demon held a hand up firmly to stop the teenager. "I'm not doing this for you. So don't thank me." Anya's eyes grew distant as she prepared herself to orb.

""Then who are you" the teenager asked too late. In a flash of silver light the vengeance demon was gone. "doing it for?" she finished in a whisper.

****

"Oh. Hey! Pajama Guy at three o'clock," Willow used her free hand to point excitedly at a pajama-clad student walking toward them in a crowd of friends, her other hand swinging confidently in the blonde's warm grasp. "So, do you think he planned the whole pajama thing? Or was it accidental? You know, he woke up one day and didn't have time to dress for class, but he looked down and was all like, 'hey, look at those! They're clothes-like' so he just kinda went with it" she trailed off when a glance at Tara revealed a highly amused grin.

She's laughing at me, she thought with pleasure. I caused a Tara smile. A Tara grin even. Like the old Willow

"What?" The redhead quizzed, pulling them to a stop in the middle of the Quad under the soft golden glow of a path light. The blonde hid behind her hair and Willow felt the universe shift, memories of this different Tara sliding in layers over that Tara who was gone.

"Nothing. It's just," blue eyes looked up through heavy lids to meet the redhead's green. "It's been a wh-while since, uh, Willowbabble." And she looked down again.

"Well, I kinda had better things to do with my mouth," the redhead said and was rewarded with an enormous blushing smile. She felt a soft hand on her cheek and the blonde began to lean in, but then stopped abruptly when the sound of approaching students reached them. Blue eyes glanced from the raucous laughter of the students back to Willow, doubt clouding perfect pale features.

She thinks I'm embarrassed. And I would have been. Then. But now

In one sure motion, she pulled Tara into a fierce kiss that the blonde quickly deepened, her hand finding the back of Willow's head pulling her in. The sound of muffled laughter continued around them as the crowd passed, a girl's confident voice finally sounded beside them.

"You go girls!"

Willow pulled back laughing, returning the anonymous girl's wide smile for a moment. Turning back to Tara she found an astonished smile as the blonde studied her. Then it faded slightly, blue eyes travelling to the space around Willow, to the air between them.

She's reading me. She knows. She sees it now.

Her own smile fading, Willow reached out to touch Tara's face afraid that this was the moment The moment she would lose her again. She felt the slight pull again at the edge of everything. There had always been magic with Tara, but this was different. it wasn't residual effects of the spell. It was the spell. It was magic, hard and cold and tearing at her with its deadly fingers.

I can't

She reached down into herself and said the words that would center everything. Would protect herself and Tara from the world. A bubble of them.

"Willow?" the blonde said her name gently and she felt warm hands caress her face. Felt the slow perfect spell of her name on Tara's lips that quirked slowly into a smile. "How did you know about 'Miss I'm-so cool-in-my-leather-jacket'?"

Tara sees it all. She always did.

It started as a smile on Willow's face, sheer delight in the power and insight of her lover. But it quickly faded. How could she tell her?

"Tara" she faltered and looked at the ground. It was too much. This Tara didn't know the deceitful Willow and she didn't want to introduce her to that person. Ever. It should all be brand new. But how to tell her? She looked back to Tara for an answer.

Blue eyes held her steady and she felt the magic and the doubt recede. "You know you c-c-can tell me anything."

Tears sprang to Willow's eyes, but she didn't cry. She would not allow anything to ruin this stolen time with Tara. Not grief. Not magic. Nothing.

"I know. And I will." She choked back a sob and brought her lips to the blonde's to feel the fact of her warm breath on her. "Tell you. Everything I can." Tara sighed against her. "Okay?"

And she was pulled into a fierce kiss that made words unnecessary. This was their language. The only one they had ever really needed. If she had only listened

*****

"Mom?"

Buffy stood blinking in the front hallway, the door wide open behind her. It had taken her ten minutes to find the courage to cross that threshold. During her wild run over, she had imagined kicking the door down, breaking the windows to get in, but when faced with the familiar car in the driveway, the yellow kitchen light and blue flicker of her mother's nightly news ritual she found herself immobilized. Unsure for the first time in months.

"Mommy?" she repeated, expecting it to explode in an ear-splitting scream, but it came out as a soft question. Almost a whisper.

Her eyes wandered over the familiar photos and paintings that lined the hallways. Smiling photographs of her mother and herself. Aunts and uncles. No photos of her future family -- Tara and Willow. And no Dawn. Which was strangely unnerving. It was obvious suddenly that her sister had been inserted not only into their memories, but into the photographic evidence of their lives. Of course, she knew that there was no Dawn in this present, but she couldn't seem to bring her mind to accept that fact, because Dawn had always been her sister. Always would be. And she had died to give her a chance to find her future

"Buffy?" And there she was suddenly. Living, breathing. Mom. A smile of delighted surprise crossing her features as she stood staring at her daughter from the living room.

And for once there were no second thoughts, no doubts, she was just suddenly in her mother's arms again, inhaling the warm, comfortable, unmistakable scent of safety. Of Home.

"Mom!" she cried and laughed into a silk-covered shoulder and felt her mother's arms slip around her. She knew she was holding on too tightly, that her Slayer strength could hurt her all-too human mother, but she couldn't help herself. Hanging on for dear life. And that was something else familiar. That no matter how hard she held her mother, it was never too much. Mom magic, she decided choking on another sob. She felt those wonderfully strong arms pull back gently and brush the hair and tears from her face.

"Buffy. What happened? Are you okay?" Her mother's eyes studied her intently, looking for signs of injury and Buffy laughed through another sob. "Did something happen?"

"Yeah. No. I mean I just I missed you," she sniffed and felt an enormous smile break over her face. It was such an unfamiliar feeling after months of sadness and depression. A smile. So strange that something so simple had become so elusive. And dangerous.

But the lines of her mother's face, that crooked smile full of concern. The tiny lines around her eyes. Those were familiar. And so fragile.

"Are you sure you're okay?" her mother's gaze deepened as if she was looking straight through her daughter.

"Yeahjust had a rough dayor two. Maybe even three."

"Well, I'm just making dinner," she put an arm around Buffy's slim shoulders and guided her through the house toward the kitchen. "Care to join a lonely old lady for some macaroni and cheese?"

"I think that can be arranged," she joked and leaned in to let the impossible strength of her mother carry her through the familiar rooms of the past.

****

Anya materialized in the hallway just outside the guestroom and stood shaking her head. The place reeked of Willow and magic. Deep magic. Would these people ever wake up and get a clue? She had seen it from the moment she'd first laid eyes on the deceptively unassuming redhead. The power. The potential. But everyone else seemed blind to it. Even the Slayer. As if a spell had been cast to hide the terrifying power of the girl. Even from herself.

But there was something else at work here. Definitely. She could smell it. Her nose wrinkling at the stench of it, acrid and sickeningly sweet. Demon magic. Almost. Maybe some kind of demon-human hybrid? And whatever it was it was interfering with reality on a temporal level, which meant that D'Hoffryn was certainly aware of the situation. If he wasn't directly involved in some way.

She stepped over the threshold and gasped at the roaring grief and agony of it. And the magic, strong and still actively coursing through the room in thick streams. Through everything.

Shifting from her human senses to Vengeance Demon she looked up to see it all in one nauseating rush. The bullet. The blood. Willow and Tara and Osiris. But there was more laid over and under the now of this room, a brighter thread just forming, twisting its way around the past that held to this room. Entangling realities in a nightmarish knot of passion and grief. Willow and Tara naked against each other in a dorm. But it wasn't the Willow of then. It was this Willow making new time with her own hands. And Buffy separating the past and the present as she ran toward her mother.

And it was all happening now. Here. But it wasn't. Which was confusing because she was a Vengeance Demon. This was what she did. Reality was her medium and her gift. She should be able to read it and write it easily.

But this was just a mess. Amateurish and rough. And somehow no matter how hard she stretched, it seemed to remain just outside her grasp.

With an exasperated grimace Anya forced her senses back to the room. Back to the human to try to understand why her powers were suddenly failing. There had to be something else...

The walls were scorched and scored like the Magic Box and she felt her face furrowing into what Xander had always described as her 'frowny face'. The room was a disaster of glass and ash. Her eyes travelled over the debris finally landing on an object that stilled everything. Made the world and every reality stand still.

"Occum's Heart," she mumbled and closed her eyes. "Willow, what have you done now?"