If we accept multiple universes, then we no longer need worry about what "really" happened in the past, because every possible past is equally real. -Joseph Gerver, 1971 Physics Today.
Know that the world is uncreated, as time itself is, without beginning and end. -- Mahapurana (India, ninth century)
It was the dream. That same dream that had tormented her back in the real now. And that meant she was there. It had worked. Or not worked. Because she was back in that room with the pain and grief and the dream of Tara. She could tell now that this wasn't the dreamtime of the Nether Realms. It was the real dream of the Tara that was gone. That she could never see again. And that meant she was in that room in the Summers' house that was once theirs. All of its smells, its peculiar acoustics and the unmistakable memory feel of it that let her know she was back there just between waking and sleep. She didn't want to wake up. Not yet. Just a few more minutes with her love.
Because now that she had lost Tara a second time it was the terrible dream that wasn't so terrible anymore. Her first instinct had been to wake immediately and find Buffy. Find everyone and make sure things were right. Make sure everyone was healthy and alive. But there would be all the time in the world for Buffy and Dawn and Xander later. This was still hers. She inhaled jasmine and sandalwood and felt that gilded warmth against her side and she let herself sink back a little. Back to the dreamworld where Tara was warm and alive against her. Back to the world where they were safe. Where pancakes and a morning of the gentle push and pull of comfortable chatter with Dawn and Buffy waited for them beyond the walls of this room.
Their fingers were entwined and she drew the tapering lines of slim fingers with her own careful not to wake herself. Careful to hold on to that drowsy detachment that would keep her far from the real. Willow opened up her consciousness to feel the whole of the moment. The smooth heat of a bare leg pressed to her own. The soft swell of a breast against her arm. Then it was the gentle flutter of the blonde's breath against her ear, the sultry play of air over sensitive skin. The murmur of Tara's lips moving in sleep. Saying her name over and over in a low sing-song and that vibrant living connection between them that was more sensual and alive than any physical act.
But she needed that myth of the physical for a few moments. With drowsy amusement and overwhelming sadness Willow remembered the relentless progression of the dream and reached out to trace the soft lines of Tara with trembling fingers. The whole of her love that she would never see again.
"Willow!"
Buffy's panicked yell violently snapped the redhead up and out of sleep. Blinking in the faint flickering yellow light, she struggled to her feet and realized in a rush of modesty that she was standing completely naked before her best friend.
A quick look to the floor revealed a crumpled red sheet that she hastily drew around herself.
"Oh, uh" the Slayer turned her back while the redhead struggled to cover herself and she noted absently that her friend's clothing were unfamiliar. Dark, form-fitting pants and a tight dark shirt. Nothing she recognized and very un-Buffy in its utility. It looked like a Matrix-y version of a superhero's wardrobe — tight, sexy and functional. Right down to the shoes. She shook off the confusing wardrobe analysis and watched the Slayer as she surveyed the damage wondering how much had changed. If anything. "Wow. Did we do this?" Buffy reached out to the black scoring on the walls that Willow knew instantly were evidence of a terrible struggle and magic. Big bad magic. Definitely.
"Probably when I went all with the dark magic to stop the spell," Willow shrugged and wondered with her still sleep-fuzzy brain where exactly they were. Because they were definitely back in the future, in the Summers' house, but what did that mean? Were they back where they had left off? She and Buffy?
And what's up with Trinity the Vampire Slayer?
But she had more important things to worry about because there was so much now between them. The memory of the angry exchange in Tara's room made her wince with an almost visceral pain. She had been so determined not to return to this room. To abandon her friends and die with Tara in that other past. And that was kind of unforgivable wasn't it?
That brought her to another enormous question mark — the spell's completion. If it changed the past, she should remember only the new version and that stolen time should have disappeared. But she remembered everything. Everything about those precious moments with Tara. The shy young woman with the surprising strength and confidence. Another new first kiss that probably wasn't anymore. Everything. But those memories created a path for the grief and pain to find her. She could feel the them pulling at her with desperate insistence and inhaled sharply to focus herself. This was not the time for grief. This was the time for Scooby action. Tears could come later when she was alone.
To take her mind off the awkward possibilities Willow studied the room with the clinical detachment of a Scooby looking for clues. The walls were black in large sections on the south wall and broken pieces of furniture and torn clothing lay strewn around the room. But something was wrong. The bedframe and mattress propped against the wall weren't the catalog pieces she had returned to from London. And the clothes were a strange mix of familiar and completely foreign pieces. Torn black t-shirts and tanks.
Following the circular path of debris, Willow's eyes drifted to her feet where a careful line of powder was drawn on the carpet. The beginnings of a circle that stretched away from her, lit by candles. Around her. Someone had cast a spell here. She could still feel the residual magic from the Heart and something else. Something familiar.
They tried to help us. Dawn and Faith must have cast a spell. Or maybe Anya?
Her thoughts were interrupted as Buffy turned to her, her face a mix of confusion and something like defeat. The Slayer's strong hands worked against each other as she stared down at the floor and then up to meet her best friend's eyes.
"Wil, I'm so sorry I couldn't --" she began, but her voice died and her head tilted to the left slightly as her forehead scrunched in the Slayer's trademark expression of shock and confusion.
"What?"
Oh god, we changed things and I'm, like, two-headed monster girl now or somethingor maybe I'm all permanently veiny and with the black hair and
Willow searched the walls for a mirror, but found only scorched plaster, nails and yellowing tape. She reached tentatively to her face to make sure, but felt only her regular features.
But I could have forgotten. I could just think that my face feels normal and reallyokay stop with the head-trippiness.
Hello, you remember. You remember everythingwhich is totally bizarre in itself.
But what does Buffy remember?
She searched her best friend's face, but found only confusion.
"Buffy what is it?"
The Slayer's mouth opened once as if she would speak and then closed abruptly as she studied Willow carefully. Her eyes travelling over the redhead's features and then beyond as if she were deciding something.
"Um, Wil" she began and then closed her eyes. She felt two strong hands on her bare shoulders as her best friend turned her gently away.
"Buffy" she began, but trailed off as she found herself facing the windows, the Slayer's hands still resting on her shoulders. Tara's armoire rested in pieces on its side under the window and her destroyed laptop had been placed carefully on top of it. "You know you could have just told me, really. I'm not like that anymore. I know that it's just a comput--"
Her body understood before the visual information made its relentless progress through her sluggish brain. There was someone else here in the room with them. Someone blonde and naked in the circle with her and every muscle in her body locked in rigid tension with the knowledge. She closed her eyes and fell back slightly, the Slayer's strong arms holding her upright.
No. It's not her. Don't even think that. It can't be her. She's gone. You left her there Don't delude yourself Rosenburg. It's probably Anya skyclad for the spell or
"Wil?" Buffy whispered gently behind her and Willow felt hands those supporting hands squeeze her shoulders gently. "It's okay. I'm right here."
Movement at her feet brought her other senses into play. Whoever it was they were stirring, bare skin brushing against her legs. And the soft sounds of someone rousing from sleep. A breathy sigh and the impossible smell of jasmine. It was the dream. She was still dreaming. Had to be.
But the Slayer's hands were firm and real on her shoulders.
"Buffy?" she choked on the word and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that were already rolling down her face. It wasn't Tara. It couldn't be. "It's notit's not her Buffy"
"Wil, open your eyes." The Slayer's voice held a note of tenderness that she hadn't heard in years. The sound of her best friend, the girl she had trusted once with everything.
Through a blurry haze of tears, the room began to materialize around Willow. The broken lines of the magic's ruinous path and something soft and glowing below. Swallowing hard against the desperate fear and grief, Willow leaned back into her best friend's grip to take in the sight of Tara lying on her side, naked at her feet. The candlelight softened the familiar curves, but it was unmistakably Tara.
"She's dead isn't she? Or in a coma? Or a ghost? That's it, she's some kind of ghost haunting" Willow's eyes closed involuntarily as her mind raced through the nightmare of possibilities. She felt Buffy squeeze her shoulders again.
"Not a ghostand so not dead."
"How could you know thatI mean, you haven't even" she sobbed.
"Slayer hearing her heartbeat, breathingshe's just asleep." Another squeeze. "Trust me Wil. It's Tara."
"Willow?" There was no mistaking that voice. Low and musical and still husky with sleep as it rolled over her in a breaking wave. Her eyes were open in a moment to find Tara blinking up at her.
"Baby?" she fell into those arms and kept falling as the warmth encircled her in a world of Tara. Real and solid and there in the room where it had all gone so horribly wrong. They were crying against each other, hands tracing the lines of each other's faces.
"I thought I lost you," Tara said inside a kiss and Willow found herself blinking in astonished confusion.
"ButI didlose you," she began and trailed off. Because this was impossible. She had let go of this girl. The connection had been broken. "How?" she tore her eyes from deep blue, and searched up the black clad figure behind her. The Slayer stood above them, her eyes full of tears as she studied them with a beaming smile. "Buffy?"
"I couldn't," she began, but her voice broke. "I justyou knowcouldn't lose you both again."
Willow's mind seemed to be circling the Slayer's last statement. Racing through the events of the past days and hours. Occum's Heart and her own dark magic.
"Second chance" Willow turned incredulous to Tara's lop-sided smile to make sure it was still real, tracing the familiar jawline gently with her fingers. "This was your?" she couldn't even finish the sentence as she returned her gaze to Buffy.
The Slayer nodded through her own tears and Willow rose to her feet in a moment, her arms encircling her best friend, her hero for so many years. They were both crying now and laughing as they held each other. "I love you Buff!" she somehow managed through the tears and the Slayer's bone-crushing embrace.
"I love you too Wil and I'm so sorry" they rocked against each other trading insistent apologies as the awkward tension of the past years melted away. And something else, a new set of memories that seemed to be forming as they held each other. Like long-forgotten moments that had been there all along waiting to emerge.
"Buffy?" She pulled back to see the Slayer's forehead lined in confusion. Both of them struggling with the overlapping memories. Conflicting pasts nudging them. "Are you?"
The Slayer just nodded.
"Um, should I b-be jealous here or" Tara had managed to pull on a robe and stood behind them with a soft smirk. Willow found that she could barely look at the blonde. Worried that too much scrutiny would make Tara disappear.
"Tara," the Slayer sniffed and pulled away from Willow to embrace the surprised blonde. "I missed you so much."
Quickly recovering from the initial shock of finding herself in Buffy's arms, Tara enclosed the Slayer in a gentle embrace. She was clearly confused, but touched by the impromptu show of affection. "I missed you too Buffy." Blues eyes met green over a dark shoulder and Willow felt her knees grow weak.
"Oh my god it worked! You're back!" Dawn's voice filled the room and the redhead barely had time to turn around before she was practically knocked to the ground by the teen's exuberant hug. Images cascaded through her mind: helping Dawn get ready for a date; watching Tara teach Dawn a simple spell. But these were new memories. The Dawn she had left here wouldn't even look at her. Before she had time to recover the teen had suddenly pulled away. "Tara?"
Dawn was gone and Willow heard a soft whoosh and turned to find that the teen had replaced the Slayer in the blonde's arms. Tara again seemed pleasantly surprised if not more than a little confused as she gently stroked the dark hair. "Dawnie, it's good to see you too sweetie," she pulled back slowly and gently wiped tears from the teens face. "But I just saw you a few hours ago."
The teen's head tilted slightly in a gesture that reminded Willow immediately of Buffy. Dawn looked around the room obviously confused, until something seemed to settle. Or click. Willow felt it too. More memories sliding into place. The spell's magic working to anchor this new future to the past.
"Oh yeah," Dawn shook her head with a smile and rolled her eyes as if she had decided her confusion had been just a momentary slip.
"Hello! Sister back from another dimension and I don't even rate a hug?" Buffy stood hands on hips and Dawn rolled her eyes again in righteous teenage indignation before leaping into her sister's arms with a squeal and a wide smile.
Willow's eyes met Tara's again and she was shocked to feel heat in her cheeks. She looked away shyly and wondered at her own actions. But the memories were a jumbled mess in her mind, new ones arriving with every moment that passed. And she wasn't sure which Tara was in the room with her now. Was it the woman she had betrayed, whose mind she had violated or was it a completely new person? Were they even together in this universe? Another stolen glance confirmed that Tara was still studying her with tenderness and concern.
So, okayprobably a couple here. Or were a couple at some point, which is all of the good, but
"So were you two in, like, a hell dimension or something?" Dawn's excited voice brought her attention back to the room and she noticed for the first time that the teen was dressed like her big sister in black fighting gear. "Anya said you were an idiot for setting it off by accident and that you were probably going to pull a Glory and end the worldonly, you know, by mistake." Another roll of the eyes. "Where's the thingie?" she continued without waiting for a response. "The Heart or whatever?"
"It should be gone. It kind of erases itself" Willow began, but stopped as Buffy extended a silver object in the palm of her hand. "Oh."
"Can I see it?" the teen asked and reached for the silver object only to have the Slayer pull it away abruptly.
"No way."
"Well, how did you set it off?"
"Like, I'm gonna tell you that," Buffy began then grew pensive as she studied its surface. "Anyway, I think we broke it." Then extended the Heart to the redhead. "Actually, I think you broke it, Wil."
Willow carefully accepted the object from the Slayer's hand. It seemed lighter than she remembered. Still warm from the Slayer's pocket, the redhead still couldn't shake the feeling that the metal was alive, but there was definitely something different about it. The residual effects of the spell seemed disconnected from the object in her hand.
"What was it like here?" she questioned as she studied the now-familiar star pattern on the Heart's surface. "Did we disappear or"
"Suspended animation," Dawn interjected in a matter-of-fact tone. "You knowlike Sleeping Beauty."
"Exactly like Sleeping Beauty," Tara offered with a flirtatious smile. Willow felt her face heat up again and with a deep inhale returned her attention to the less-confusing demon object.
"So what were you doing?" Dawn resumed her interrogation. "Did you do something over? Anya said that it's some kind of do-over demon machine."
Looking up from the Heart, Willow's eyes met Buffy's and the Slayer seemed to be searching for answers in the redhead's face. Her forehead lined in concentration as she grappled with the spell's magic and her own fading memories.
"I don't know, it's all kind offuzzy," the Slayer shook her head as if to clear it and then scanned the room quickly. "Wait, is MomI mean, is she?"
Dawn looked almost angry for a moment before her eyes fell to the floor. "She's um" she began and trailed off.
"We took flowers to her grave yesterday," Tara moved forward to take the teenager's hand in her own. "Roses from the garden." The blonde witch said gently and studied the Slayer's face intently. Willow wanted to run to her, but she couldn't seem to move. This was her Tara. Calm and beautiful and offering comfort to everyone. But was she this Tara's?
"Oh." Buffy's eyes were full of tears, but she nodded her acceptance. "I knew that," the lines between her eyebrows deepened as her eyes fell to the floor. "I just thoughtI meanI don't know what I thought." Tara reached out to her and Buffy took the hand offered with a painful smile.
In that moment Willow understood what the Slayer had lost. What she had given up for Tara. And Willow. Joyce was her sacrifice.
She could have used her second chance to.
To what? She argued with herself. To go back in time and make her mother go to the doctor sooner and hope that made a difference somehow? To be there to watch her mother die from an aneurysm?
"Buffy I'm sorry"
"It's okay, Wil" her best friend interrupted her with a sad smile as she looked at the redhead. "I got to say good-byeI think." The pain of it was overwhelming. Buffy once again sacrificing so much for all of them. She felt the tears roll down her face and suddenly realized how tired she was. And how scared. Buffy had given up so much for her to have a second chance, but would she live up to it? Willow felt Tara's hand slip into her own and a wave of calm washed through her, the connection to her love stronger than she remembered.
"Got to say good-bye to who?" Dawn demanded. "Who?"
Before the Slayer could respond a loud voice boomed through the upstairs.
"Dawn! We're not supposed to be up here til the Lilith Fair is ov-" She felt the door to the room slam open and a sharp intake of breath behind her. Then a soft, almost inaudible "B?" Before she could turn to see the source of the intrusion, a blur of dark rushed through her peripheral vision and tackled Buffy. Willow stepped immediately between this new unidentified danger and Tara, preparing herself for defense. ButB?
That's when Willow noticed that Buffy wasn't being so much attacked askissed. But the Slayer reacted violently, pushing her attacker to the ground with surprising force. It was only when the dark figure was on the floor that Willow's mind processed the impossible events. Faith. Faith was now on her knees, her hair pulled back and no makeup in an outfit that was a perfect complement to Buffy and Dawn's. Dark and stylish and very much twenty-first century superhero wear. It looked like some kind of kevlar weave or reinforced nylon. Something tough and protective unlike Buffy's usual high fashion-victim Slaywear. After years of Willow's ceaseless prodding on the subject, someone had finally talked some sense into her best friend.
"Oh, uhsorry," Faith sat on her knees blinking up at the Slayer, her eyes full of hurt and confusion. She glanced quickly at the three other occupants of the room and back to Buffy. "I forgot you didn't want anyone to know" the dark Slayer trailed off and looked at her hands. "Aboutyou knowus."
"Yeah, like there's anyone on earth who doesn't know," the teenager muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Except, you know, Giles. But that's just because he's clueless and English."
She heard Tara whisper a gentle, "Dawn," and the teen fell silent. The Slayers, however, seemed oblivious to the intrusion, completely focused on each other as always.
"I meandamn B, you didn't have to get all ghetto on me," she let out an exasperated sigh, but when she spoke again her voice was small and gentle. "Didn't you get my note?"
"What are you talking about? What note? I didn't know you could write." Buffy fired back angrily and Willow could see the dangerous mix of emotions playing on her best friend's face. "Andthere is no us! Ever." Anger and hurt and confusion. She knew its source because something was shifting within her own mind. Alongside her longstanding feelings of jealousy and anger for the dark Slayer there was something new emerging. A kind of grudging respect for Faith that had somehow grown into trust and friendship. There were vague hints of a still-stormy relationship between the two Slayers. She thought she could feel Tara mixed in there as well and several conversations with the blonde flashed through her mind. The low soothing tones of her voice and the words just give her a chance' echoing in a thousand permutations.
"Fine. Whatever. There's no us." The dark Slayer shook her head obviously hurt by Buffy's remarks. "It's in your pocket," Faith pointed still kneeling in front of the blonde. "I mean, it's not really a note, cause you know, you're rightnot exactly that hot with the whole writing thingand I would've put it in your hand, but kindastiff as a board so." The dark Slayer rambled nervously as Buffy dug in her pocket finally extracting something she held tightly in her left fist, her eyes closing slowly. Willow felt a slow swell of more memories as her feelings for Faith evolved again into a kind of sisterly affection side by side with the other memories of the violent psychopath who had held her at knife point. Faith, she noticed had risen slowly to her feet, careful to keep her distance from the blonde whose eyes were slowly opening to study the object in her hand. A black tube of something. Mascara? Lip gloss? "In case you woke up when I wasn't here," she finished, her voice painfully soft.
Buffy's eyes went wide and her mouth fell open as she looked from the tube to Faith and finally to Willow. She didn't know the significance of the object in the Slayer's hand, but knew what her best friend was going through. The confusion. The visceral tug-of-war between the dark concrete of the past they knew and the flexible shining thing being built with each second that passed.
"Wil?" Buffy's eyes searched hers, begging for an answer, an explanation or more likely a denial. She could feel the fragility of the situation, the spell building the past from these moments and the broken memories they all shared. But more terrifying was the power they all had to change everything. Right now. That any action or inaction could affect everything. Could take Tara from her again.
But isn't that kindayou knowlife?
She could see the desperate pleading in Faith's face. And something else she had never seen there. Hope.
Second chance. Maybe there was enough to go around. Enough for all of them. And as crazy as it seemed to most of her, as much as it hurt that younger Willow who idolized her best friend and resented the exclusive connection the Slayers shared, the idea of Buffy and Faith together was right in that deep down place she was learning to trust. Her heart.
But how to say it without disrupting things? Without influencing events with her own prejudices and past. Something filtered up through her psyche. Something her best friend had said in that room before the Heart's spell was cast.
"There's always a catch?" Willow offered with a shrug and a smile. Buffy struggled visibly with the changing landscape of their past, her face twisted in confusion as the words settled between them.
"Oh, my god, this is hell," she heard her best friend mutter. "I try to do the right thing and I end up in some hell place where Faith and I..." But with a quick glance to her fellow Slayer, a kind of astonished recognition and acceptance became evident in a tiny, terrified smile. Buffy nodded almost imperceptibly as she stared at the tube of lip gloss and it happened. Reality stretched and snapped as the spell lined up the future and the past with a thunderclap of certainty that almost knocked the redhead to her knees. "Faith and I," the Slayer mumbled again.
Buffy cleared the space between herself and Faith in a moment, the two of them locked in a kiss that would have killed another human and Willow felt a ripple in the fabric of everything emanating out from the entwined pair of Slayers in an electric rush.
Without thinking she glanced at Tara becoming very aware suddenly the blonde witch was wearing only a bathrobe over total nakedness and she was wrapped in a sheet. Their reunion had been positively chaste in comparison. Maybe they weren't a couple? Or had been once and she'd done something to break them up? Her eyes she realized with a start had involuntarily descended to the exposed skin of the blonde's chest. With a start, she brought her eyes up to Tara's and was shocked to see her studying her carefully as her thumb circled over the back of the redhead's hand. Swallowing hard, Willow fought the urge to look away as Tara's lips curved into a lop-sided smile. Why did she feel so awkward? Like she had a high school crush?
"Okay, sister smooching is just...yuck. I'm going to Rain's!" the teen announced with disgust and quickly moved toward the door.
"Not in my gear!" Buffy yelled breathless between kisses and Willow laughed at the beautiful everyday insanity of it all. Amazed that the sight of her best friend kissing her former arch-nemesis seemed completely normal.
Not to mention a girl. Miss Straight Girl America is all over a girl.
When did that happen?
Pieces of an awkward conversation in the coffeehouse flickered through her mind. Buffy, red-faced and mortified asking her best friend for advice without actually asking.
Buffy, why are we playing hide the gender pronoun?''
Her face reddened at the memory and the terrifying attempts at conversation and explanation that followed.
Really, I'm so not, like, the lesbo guru or whatever.'
"Fine! Jeez! Get a room already!" Dawn yelled from the hall.
"This is my roomor was until Red went all" Faith growled, only to be silenced by another deadly round of kisses from the blonde. Well, that explained all the dark clothing and the leather strewn around the room. But wasn't this their room? Hers and Tara's?
"Ready to go home?" Tara asked gently and squeezed Willow's hand.
"I, um home? You mean we're not home now?"
Blue eyes studied her carefully as the blonde's head tipped slightly to the left. Tara was reading her. The familiar feel of the blonde's energy running gently through her and over her. She couldn't help wondering what she saw there. Was her energy still dark? Did the traces of dark magic follow her? "W-we can stay here tonight if you want."
An image of the two of them making love on the bare wood floors of an apartment coursed through her mind. A fantasy or maybe a new memory. Willow didn't know but she blushed at the potential and looked to the floor again. "Um, no, I" she paused for a moment to gather her strength to ask for the only thing she had ever really wanted. "I want to go home Tara."
Somehow they got dressed and made their way to the car. No goodbyes with the Slayers who had fallen into a world of only each other. Just the three of them driving through Sunnydale in the middle of the night to a home she didn't know. There was a conversation with Dawn about Xander and Anya. Xander was still in physical therapy. Wounded in the confrontation in the back yard. Buffy had been shot as well, but she had recovered quickly. An image of a scar on the Slayer's left side, a mirror image of Faith's flashed in her mind. She didn't ask about Warren.
Throughout the drive Tara was silent, focusing on the road ahead with occasional glances to Willow. After several riveting tales of the younger Summer's slaying exploits with Faith since the spell was cast, Dawn was safely in Rain's house and they were alone in the car.
Rain. As in forty-percent chance of?' Did that happen in this time or that other past? Or both?
A cool hand covered hers, slim fingers gently entwined with her own. They were still sitting in Rain's driveway a comfortable silence warming the space between them.
"Willow, something's different isn't it? I mean, you and Buffy, you changed something with your Second Chance?" Tara knew. Of course Tara knew. She had always understood the important things. Willow just nodded and looked down at their hands. She could feel the metallic warmth of the Heart in the pocket of her jeans. A reminder of everything that had changed. "Because it all kind of feels brand new." The blonde's forehead scrunched into deep lines as she contemplated her next statement. "But at the same time, I have the feeling that it always did."
"Always did what?"
"Always felt brand newwith you I mean," the blonde finished shyly and then looked out the windshield at the dark night sky. Willow followed her line of sight and sank into the creaky vinyl seat. The stars were the same at least. Familiar constellations framed by the car's white and beige interior. An old boxy Volvo wagon that Willow couldn't seem to remember, but that felt right somehow. Safety statistics and charts flashed through her mind letting her know that she had researched this purchase carefully, hoping to keep Tara safe. This moment, she knew, was about safety too. The two of them, sitting side by side in the security of the steel cage as they shared secrets. A neutral space between the Scooby world and the untouched safety of that other place she hadn't been yet. Home.
"Yeah. It did" she smiled a small smile. "Always. With the feeling brand new."
Another long silence. "How d-different is it? This worldI mean, from the one you left?"
"VeryI think," she began then trailed off. The truth was she wasn't sure how different it was. Or similar. "But I'm kinda unclear on the details right now." She twirled her fingers in a circle near her temple and rolled her eyes. "Kind of messy up there right now."
"Messy?" the blonde prodded gently.
"Well, I have all these memories from the other time, but instead of disappearing like they're supposed tothey're all kind of moving in." She searched for the right analogy to explain her current state of psychological pandemonium. "Like I'm at the movies, but there are three movies playing instead of one and I have to pay special attention because something could be happening in one that I need to know and " she turned to face Tara abruptly, clutching her hand tightly. "Andare we together in this world? I mean, you know, when we got to the moviesyou and me is it a friendly type thing or a, um, a smoochie type thing?"
Tara bit her lip to suppress a smile. "A smoochie type thing. Definitely."
"So we're not just roommates?"
"Mmmm, more like roommates with benefits," the blonde said with a flirtatious smile then looked became serious. "Weren't we together in your other world?"
She felt the frown forming automatically. "Yesand no."
Tara nodded, still staring at the night sky, "Because I was gone."
"Well, it wascomplicated, butyeah. How do you"
A wry smile graced perfect ruby lips. "Buffy's never told me she missed me before, Wil. Ever. If you two hadn't just returned from another dimension I'd have her checked for signs of demonic possession," she joked carefully. "And you said you had lost me, so"
She nodded through the tears starting at the thought of those other Tara's that were lost and the mounting panic that her overlapping memories pointed toward some sort of instability in the fabric of this reality. This wasn't right. She shouldn't remember anything from that other past. Buffy didn't. Obviously, or the Faith encounter would have become a violent brawl, not the disturbing version of Slayer foreplay she had just witnessed.
"Tara I shouldn't remember all of theeverything."
"Are you sure?" the blonde turned in her seat to face the redhead. "I mean, if anyone could remember multiple realities, it's you sweetie."
"But what if something's wrong? What if this is just a dream and I" Willow turned to Tara in a panic, grasping her hands in desperation. "Tara, I'm not going back there, I can't!" The feel of a cool hand stroking her cheek silenced her.
"Sweetie, you're not going anywhere," the cool fell away and Willow felt the car shift into Drive. "Except home. With me."
They drove the rest of the way in silence as they held hands over the emergency brake. Willow stared out the window and tried to will her warring memories into some kind of order. This was basic psychology. She knew how memory worked, what triggered it. Sights and smells that brought the past into the present. But now each sensation brought a double or triple set of conflicting memories. The familiar landmarks on the side of the road evoked a long, tired ride home from the beach, dosing off in Tara's arms in the backseat of Xander's car. But it also triggered other vague memories of this same drive home wounded and tired from battles she didn't remember yet. And a number that was driving her crazy: 317.
They pulled into the driveway of a brightly painted Victorian clapboard house and Willow checked the address. 1267. So it wasn't their address. That haunting number. Maybe it was the combination to something. Or a date. Something significant had happened on March 17. An anniversary? Or maybe it had some significance to the spell. A countdown to something. Or it could be the amount of time I have left in this world. But is it three days and seventeen hours or three years, seventeen days orWith mounting trepidation she followed Tara to a sturdy wooden stairway on the side of the house and the two began to climb. Flowering vines were entwined in the railings of the staircase and she thought she smelled jasmine.
Tara stopped at a bright purple door to remove a set of keys and Willow watched fascinated as the blonde began to unlock the door to a place she had never been.
"Taradoes the number 317 mean anything to you?" She finally blurted out. The blonde turned to her, a quizzical expression on her face as she opened the door, but didn't enter. "It just keepsI don't know. I keep seeing itor thinking itit's a very popular number in my head at the moment."
"How popular?"
"Britney, pre-movie career."
The blonde looked thoughtful for a moment before a playful smile crept across her features. "Um, actually it's three minutes, seventeen seconds." Willow was still confused. "Well, that would be the average time it takes to get to Buffy's in an emergency." Tara smiled as she glanced briefly into the still-dark interior. "You timed itrepeatedly. Under different conditions."
"Oh." Well, that was a relief. And more than a little disappointing. "SoI'm still quite large with the dork in this reality."
"Yeah, if dork is spelled s-e-x-y," Tara squeezed her hand and pulled her gently inside and Willow felt the same disturbing mix of arousal and profound shyness that seemed to be the trademark of their relationship in this dimension.
She was about to ask the blonde about it when the lights suddenly came on revealing a comfortable living room. There was evidence of both she and Tara in the room's contents. Built-in shelves overflowing with books magical and non-magical in nature. A green velvet retro couch flanked by two stylish, but well-worn chairs shared the space with a state-of-the-art multimedia suite. A nest of cables and connectors was barely hidden behind the dark stylish lines of a low table attesting to a network of surveillance and computer equipment throughout the apartment and probably beyond. Candles and crystals were littered over almost every available surface. She winced at the thought of that other past where these objects had caused them both so much pain.
The room brought tears to her eyes, but she didn't cry. It was so familiar, this place, but the details of it remained just out of reach. She remembered small things about it. Waking up in Tara's lap on a Scooby movie night, reading a passage in some book over the blonde's shoulder. Bickering gently over the placement of a particular drawing. And strange disconnected memories like the fact that she didn't remember buying the TV, but she knew exactly how it was connected to the network. And the hub was somewhere behind
She felt a gentle tug on her hand and looked up into that crooked smile that made her throat ache.
"Come on. I want to show you around."
Willow swallowed and followed the blonde down a hallway lined with photographs of the two of them and their family.' She slowed to study their strange contents and felt Tara's hand squeeze hers gently. The first photo she noticed was one of Tara with Dawn and Faith. Tara and Dawn hung from the dark Slayer's back in what was obviously a vain attempt to tackle her, but Faith stood grinning apparently unfazed by the two women trying to drag her to the ground. It was such a strange scene. She hadn't really thought about what it would mean to have Faith in their lives. That Tara and the dark Slayer might actually be friends in this world. She remembered a few snips of conversation and a wealth of conflicting emotions on this subject. Jealousy and frustration and even, impossibly, affection.
Sweetie, what part of yours' and you're the hottiest hottie on the planet' did you not understand?'
So yeah, add embarrassment to that column of crazy emotions. Tara must have read her confusion because she moved closer suddenly, their arms touching slightly as they studied the photo.
"You took that one," she offered gently and Willow noticed for the first time the mischievous glint in Tara's eyes as she stared out of the photo. Clearing her throat nervously she looked up at a photo just above it. An impromptu group shot of the entire Scooby gang with Giles and Joyce. They were all in the Summers living room, draped haphazardly over the sofa arms and onto the floor. All of them. Xander's wide grin as he hugged a grudging smile out of Anya. Buffy and Dawn smiling their movie star smiles as they flanked their mother protectively. Joyce sitting center stage looking weak, but happy. Giles standing with perfect posture to one side, his smile belying his unending affection for the crew. And Faith looking very uncomfortable, arms crossed as Dawn apparently held her in frame with one hand. Clearly, the dark Slayer hadn't been a willing participant in this group photo. Willow noticed with a smile that she was sitting on Tara's knee, their hands clasped as they stared at each other and not at the camera. She squeezed Tara's hand unconsciously, her eyes drifting back to Joyce.
"Was she gone in your world too?" Tara asked gently and Willow nodded, her eyes filling with tears.
"Yeah. It nearly killed Buffyand all of us really," she finished weakly.
"I was so proud of you for patrolling with Faith so Buffy could be with her Mom." Tara offered gently and Willow wondered suddenly about Tara's mother. Her past. Were they the same here? They should be.
But this was all too confusing. She and Faith working together? And Joyce's death. Was it the same in this reality? Was it complications or something worse? She moved to another photo to stop the grief and confusion from overtaking her again. This one was of she and Tara. They had obviously been caught in an intimate moment, completely focused on each other and obviously mid-smooching by the looks of their swollen lips and dilated eyes.
Tara chuckled beside her. "Faith using her powers for no-good as usual." She could hear the smile in the blonde's voice, but turned to make sure Faith hadn't gone evil on them again. "No. Nothing like that," she soothed Willow carefully. "She justwell, we sneaked away for some private time and she tracked us and took this." Tara turned her attention back to the photo with a wistful smile. "I'm kinda glad actually. It's one of my favorites."
"When was it taken?" she asked as she reached out automatically to touch the glass. Its surface was cool and hard under her fingertips. Real.
"Um, last summer sometime. Maybe August? Or July?" Another light musical laugh. "In a few hours I'm sure you'll be able to tell me the exact date and time."
Willow smiled weakly, but she was still stuck on the timeline. July or August. And that placed the photo during their breakup. In the months of her worst magic abuse when Tara wouldn't even look at her or take her phone calls. But here was evidence to the contrary. They were together and happy then. No magic in sight. Just the two of them in love.
It was too much for the redhead and she stumbled backward, Tara's arm holding her firmly around the waist. "Sweetie, maybe you should sit down" The world spun around her as the blonde led her gently toward the white tile of the kitchen. They passed another room, a twin bed and computer desk crammed with programming reference books barely visible in the dim light. Was that her room? But they were together weren't they? Unless this reality was still shifting somehow. If it was unstable, she could keep drifting between realities indefinitely never knowing what was real and what was the dream.
She found herself seated in a kitchen that smelled like herbs and clean. Tara whispering about tea as she moved gracefully around the room. Plants hung from hooks, drying in fragrant green clumps. Sage, mint and comfrey and other unidentified smells. Strange twisted roots in multi-colored glass jars. A new memory of Tara working in an herb garden. Their herb garden at the Summers' house and one behind this house they shared with an older couple who lived downstairs. Her lover planting and growing things wherever she could.
But that twin bed.. The queasiness was growing more pronounced as she tried to focus on the kitchen and its contents looking for clues. On the refrigerator were a series of what looked like trading cards, but on closer inspection Willow found that they were actually the Scoobies or "Cool Monster Fighters". Scraping her chair over to clean white plastic linoleum she discovered that everyone had their own card and although they shared an overall design scheme (all of them in the same black uniform), they each had their own icon and superhero-worthy name. Xander or X Man' had an enormous X on his chest that looked suspiciously like Superman's design. She thought she remembered Faith calling Xander an ex-man' at some point and knew suddenly that this entire project had grown out of their mutual love of comic books and the mounting terror of Joyce's illness and Glory. Her multimedia expertise hadn't been so much volunteered as drafted into service. She smiled softly at the new memory and returned her gaze to the cards. Dawn was "The Switch", her symbol a shining green star and Willow smiled at the teen's action-hero pose as she kicked at the camera. Buffy and Faith or Slayer Lite and Darth Slayer had chosen contrasting fists as their symbols. One white. One black. And they looked very superhero-y as they snarled, stakes in hand, at the photographer. Willow laughed out loud at the next card. Anya's symbol was a giant dollar sign. Unlike the others, the ex-vengeance demon was not punching or kicking, but was instead wagging her finger at the camera in her trademark gesture of harsh admonishment. The next card was Giles dressed in tweed, wielding an axe with the name Ripper surrounded by a comic-book starburst. Then it was Tara and Willow or Blondie' and Red.' There were no symbols, but the two of them were dressed in the same black. She thought she looked typically ridiculous as she kicked at the camera, but Tara.she nearly fell out of her chair at the sight of the blonde in tight black fighting gear, a look of pure animal intensity on her face as she struck at the camera.
"You like?" Tara asked a smile evident in her voice as she handed the redhead a steaming cup of tea. She thought she smelled mint and ginger as she continued to stare at the blonde's card.
"Uh-huh," she managed between scalding sips. "You lookwow!"
A soft chuckling near her ear made her tear her eyes from the refrigerator to find the blonde blushing next to her. "Yeah, um, that's kind of your screen saverand wallpaper and your home page," another lop-sided smile. "And I still find trading cards tucked into your books."
She turned back to the card and blushed. A memory was working its way up through layers of sensation and she felt the queasiness grow in intensity. The symbols. She and Tara had had their own once, but they were a problem somehow.
"But there was a thing with the symbols right?" she took another sip of the tea to calm her stomach. "Our symbols.'
The blonde smiled and nodded, obviously pleased that the redhead was remembering this world. This past. "They interfered with some of the spells." She couldn't seem to remember her own symbol, but she saw the blonde's with sudden clarity. The sun. A deep red center surrounded by the golden fiery corona. On Tara's chest. In her memory it looked strikingly similar to the bloody fingerprint of the gunshot wound and Willow felt the world shift violently.
"Willow" she woke to the sound of the sound of Tara's worried voice and opened her eyes to find the blonde hovering over her looking absolutely panicked. Her upper body was covered in a warm, wet liquid. Blood?
No. It's tea. I'm on the floor in their kitchen. Our kitchen. And we're safe.
"Tara? What happened?" she asked groggily.
"You fell sweetie. Are you okay?" Tara embraced her, holding her tightly against her and Willow almost passed out again at the overwhelming relief of it. The incredible rightness of being in those arms again. She wanted to hold on, but she was so weak. "I think we should get you to bed."
With a bit of struggle, they managed to reach their feet and stumble down the hall. Willow hesitated in front of the room with the twin bed and computer desk and Tara stiffened slightly beside her. "Oh. Would you rather sleep in Dawn's room tonight?" The blonde asked gently. "I understand if that's"
"Dawn's room?"
"Well, technically, it's your study/Dawn's room, butlately it's leaning more toward the Dawn's room side." Willow noticed a giant poster of J-Lo over the bed surrounded by smaller photos and magazine cutouts of various pop artists. "She usually spends the night a couple of times a week now."
With a weary and relieved smile she turned to Tara, "No, I want our roomif that's okay?" And averted her eyes immediately because she couldn't look really. She couldn't risk making this world disappear under the weight of her gaze. Like particles. You couldn't scrutinize them too closely without losing something.
The blonde sighed and closed her eyes briefly, a bright smile forming on her lips. "Oh yes. Definitely." And gently helped the redhead down the hall toward the other end of the apartment. Willow felt like she was floating through an Escher drawing of the hallway. Her vertigo was so acute that the normal directions of up and down, right and left were proving useless.
"For a straight girl, Dawnie sure has lots of girls on her wall," she murmured groggily into Tara's shoulder and felt a rumble of laughter as a reward.
"Yeah, that's what Faith says too." She could feel Tara smiling next to her. "And I found a Darth Slayer trading card in her backpack a couple of weeks ago," she said with evident amusement, then grew serious. "But we've been trying to get everyone to lay off the teasing. Dawn's pretty freaked and the fact that her big crush is in love with her sister has hit her kinda hard. I don't even think she knows why she's so angry," the blonde finished, concern for the teenager obvious in her voice.
Willow just nodded as she was led into a familiar-smelling room and seated on a comfortable bed. The conversation about Dawn was so familiar. Their worry and concern for the troubled teenager echoing through all of her pasts as she ran her fingers over the bumpy blanket that read like a topological map of love and sorrow. But it couldn't give her the answers she needed. She wasn't even sure what the questions were anymore.
The soft glow of candles filled the room and she let herself fall back onto the bed, which was much softer than she remembered. And moving. And kicking. Yes, definitely something small and writhing under her back. With a yelp she jumped away from the intruder ready for some kind of miniature demon attack, but found only a white and black cat. It took a moment for her mind to connect this rather large cat with the sneaky kitten that lived in Tara's dorm room.
"Miss Kitty?" and suddenly she was choking on sobs as she clutched the purring cat to her chest, tears pouring down her face. As if this living memory had pulled all of that bottled up grief out of her. "Oh my god, you're likehere andhuge." Miss Kitty squirmed away from her and she was overwhelmed with racking spasms of grief. "See, even the cat knows," she said through the tears and felt a warm hand on her back.
"Even the cat knows what, sweetie?" Tara's voice was soft and even and the hand moved in comforting circles, but it wasn't enough. She couldn't trust her senses. They lied. Sometimes. They only understood the world in three dimensions, not the four or five or eleven of everything. And it could change in a moment.
"That I'm not right!" she exploded in a frantic, tear-choked spasm. "That's I'm like an imposter. And, and the real Willow Rosenburg that belongs in this world is going to show up and kick me out and it's so not going to be pretty because if I were me..."
"You're not an imposter, Wil" the blonde began emphatically, but she cut her off because Tara needed to understand this. She needed to be aware of the threat. The lie.
"I don't belong" she gestured wildly at the comforting contents of the room. ".in thethis here Tara! Don't you see?" she finished desperately, turning to meet blue eyes, averting her gaze almost immediately, terrified that Tara's features would blur and shift away from her. "I'm not the real Willow Rosenburgthe this Willow Rosenburg. This isn't right andand you don't understandI don't deserve this!"
Tara stared at her for what felt like an hour, her forehead lined with confusion and concern while Willow tried in vain to control the sobs that still shook her in violent convulsions. In a moment, the blonde's features shifted to a kind of resolved calm. She felt a cool hand cup her cheek and turn her gently. "Willow look at me." But she could only close her eyes and push against that hand that felt so real. But she couldn't. Look. Because that was the dream and the end. "You are the real Willow Rosenburg. My Willow Rosenburg." Tara's thumb stroked her cheek gently as both hands cupped her face and the sobs stopped suddenly. "You just don't remember this world yet. You will."
She wanted to believe her. Desperately. But there was too much at stake. They needed to research. There was work to be done. "Tara we need towe need the-the research andI'm not going back there," she mumbled in a panic and pulled away. The books in the living room. There had to be something about Occum's Heart in them. Or time. She was on her feet and halfway to the door when that familiar voice stopped her.
"You bet your ass you're not going anywhere." Finally she did look, surprised by the ferocity in the blonde's voice. Tara's expression as she stood to face her was one of fierce determination that softened slightly when her eyes met Willow's. "I didn't go to the Nether Realms to get you just so you could d-disappear again."
Her mind had stopped working somewhere in the middle of the last sentence as her eyes drifted over the features she knew so well, but they were brand new. Her hair was shorter. A little longer than shoulder length and slightly bleached from the sun, so they didn't spend all of their time hunting evil in the dark here. And was her face a little thinner? Leaner? Her clothes, she noticed for the first time were different as well. Tight jeans over a slimmer frame and a sleeveless top that revealed toned arms. The curves were still there, but this was a body shaped by physicality. Faith. Somehow she knew that the dark Slayer was responsible for this new Tara even though she couldn't pinpoint exactly why.
Then there were the things that were the same. The perfect arch of those pale eyebrows that brought her eyes to the strong slope of an aquiline nose. The curve and sigh of lips set in a determined line. She followed the strong plane of cheekbones back up to those dark blue eyes and saw something new. A scar. Small and fading beside Tara's left eye. She reached to trace it automatically, but held back.
"How didwho hurt you?"
"Random vampire," the blonde replied with a shrug and smiled. "Who is currently fertilizing a very large area of the cemetery." And she was starting to know already. Images of the blonde returning from patrol with Faith and Dawn. A bloody bandage taped above her eye. An angry confrontation with Faith that Tara and Dawn had interrupted with assertions that the Dark Slayer had practically ripped the vampire's head off for touching the blonde witch. And her own shaking fingers as she tried and failed to tend to the wound. So much blood and so close to those beautiful eyes. Faith had taken over finally. And she had let her. Willingly. She remembered overwhelming guilt. That she hadn't been able to help her baby when she was injured.
"I couldn't" but it was more a question and she stopped unsure of her new memories.
"It's okay baby, you were just afraid you would hurt me." Finally centering herself on the small lines in the corners of Tara's eyes that meant happiness. But there was something else. Something processing in the deeper part of her mind far from the reach of that part of her that dissected and scrutinized. She finally let herself touch that fading pink line and the blonde smiled into her touch. "It doesn't hurt anymore," she said softly and sighed as Willow traced the line of her jaw to her lips.
"You went to the Nether Realms to get me?" she asked quietly. Because that was the thing working around back there and she had to be very careful not to disturb it until it was ready. So she focused on the slight flush forming on the gorgeous slope of those cheeks and trailed her fingers back to trace the arch of an ear.
"Mmmm-hmm," she murmured in response and closed her eyes leaning into Willow's touch. And there it was, working its way up now to the rational part of her brain. Tara, this Tara had gone to the Nether Realms to get her? But
"But that wasn'tI meanthis you?" It wasn't possible. It was that other girl in the Nether Realms. The young Tara with the stutter and the shy, impossible confidence. She had felt the connection. "That was the other Tarabubble world Tara." Blue eyes were studying her now and she realized that she had dropped her hand to her lap.
"That's what I keep trying to tell you," the blonde said quietly and brought her hand up to cup the redhead's cheek gently. "There is no other Tara." She swallowed and closed her eyes as warm lips bushed softly, briefly against her forehead. "And no other Willow," another light touch of lips against each eyelid. "There's just you..." And the soft fluttery heat of those lips against her own, but only for a moment. "And me"
She felt time stop as the pieces fell into place. The circle in that room, the candles and the heat. The two of them naked in the center of it all. Quantum mechanics and relativity and the nature of time. That everything was happening at once in every possible place and time. It was the act of noticing, of being and choosing that made it real. That was what made the now.
The images and memories from that other place, the Nether Realms suddenly overwhelmed her. The swirling energies and emptiness and the connection to Tara that had never really been broken. And the blonde there finally leading her back, helping her choose to let go..
Her eyes were open in an instant to find that blue regarding her with patient affection. Waiting for her to find herself again.
"Willow." She wasn't sure it had been spoken aloud, that word that was both a question and a statement. And she wondered again about the way Tara said her name. A spell. That was what she had decided in some other space and time and it was, in a way. But it was more than that, it was the blonde describing her, claiming the everything of her with those two soft syllables. And she was again. Willow.
"Tara." A long slow smile that spelled out the last of her, letting her know that the memories were waiting for her they just neededtime. And the two of them to make and unmake them. She and Tara.
"Hi sweetie," The blonde finally broke the silence. A shy smile crept over Willow's face as she looked down at her hands.
"Hi." And back up to Tara who was now smiling playfully as she took the redhead's hands in her own. "So, now what? Is there anything, you know, I should knowI mean, before Iyou know know it?"
"I love you," Tara said softly, bringing a hand up to push red hair behind one ear making Willow shiver. "You should probably know that."
"Oh," she could feel the heat erupting in her face. "Yeah, I shouldknow that." But there was still that awkward shyness that she was beginning to understand. Because despite the past stretching out behind them, this was new. She didn't know the rules of this world, the patterns and rituals of their life and love were a mystery making her feel like an outsider in what should have been her own life. "And so should youknow that I love you I mean," she stumbled awkwardly and frowned at her clumsiness.
But Tara was moving closer, her hand tracing her jawline, running in shivering tremors down her neck. "And you should know that I missed you." Closer still. "Terribly."
"God I missed you so much," she meant to shout it but it came out as a whisper as she fell into those arms again Felt the warmth as Tara pressed against her. How was it possible that she had gotten Tara back not once, but twice? "But there are things" she choked on the words before righting herself. She could feel the strength of her girl as she held her up. "Things you should know about me." Tara held her tight, her hand moving in small circles on her back.
"Shhh." She soothed. "I know about the darkness. I saw it all" a warm hand against her chin holding her head up. "In the N-Nether Realms."
She pulled back to study Tara's face. To make sure there wasn't rejection or disgust written there in hard lines, but that beautiful face held only love and concern. "Oh." Was all that she could find to say. She had seen everything? "And you don't hate me?" Tara shook her head slowly still studying Willow's face. "Maybe you didn't see it all then because it's definitely of the serious evil and you probably shouldn't even be"
"Sweetie," Tara's fingers on her lips silenced her. "I saw it all," a pained expression replaced the beautiful smiling curve of those lips. "I saw the terrible things'," her hand stroked the redhead's cheek softly. "I'm so sorry" she began sadly and trailed off with a faraway stare. "And t-terrible things'they happened here too" she looked down with a pained expression. "Not the same things, but" Blue eyes locked with her own, holding her still. "I saw, Willow. I saw you choosenot toagain." It took her a moment to understand the reference. To understand that Tara had somehow seen her moment of weakness in the Heart's center when she had come so close to taking the power offered. The power that would always be waiting for her.
"For you," she whispered softly finally and looked into blue eyes and the beginnings of a smile. "But stillme equals dangerous and I can'tI won't put you in danger again," she responded and tried to pull away, but strong arms held her gently in place.
"From the time I was four years old, m-my mother taught me that I had to understand my dark side to really control it," she tucked another strand of red hair behind an ear. "To recognize it and resist." Tara winced painfully and Willow found herself reaching out to comfort her. This was about the demon. She had never really understood before. About Tara's self-awareness, her inner calm and strength. Where it came from. This was a woman who had been trained since childhood to look for signs within of the demon they had convinced her she was. "And I think," she began again hesitantly, breaking Willow's train of thought. "I think you finally understand your dark side Willowyou just did it, you know, the hard way," a slight smile and raise of the eyebrows. "As usual."
"The really, really hard way," she murmured beginning another long silence as Tara's gaze drifted over her features forcing Willow to look down. Scared that she would see traces of that dark-eyed demon in her eyes. And that was a place her mind did not want to go. Her lifelong defense mechanism kicked in and she began to ramble automatically. "I, um, anything else I should know like significant dates or you know because"
"Well, you should probably know that," Tara leaned in to whisper in her ear and Willow swallowed hard as her entire body shivered into that light touch. "I think I'm going to kiss you okay?" Echoes from her multiple memories rippled through her and she closed her eyes against the slight tremor that was beginning somewhere deep. An almost imperceptible nod and she felt the wet slide of the blonde's cheek against hers through the tears she didn't remember crying. Then the impossible heat of their lips that were now that close. Tara whispering her name into her with every breath. Breathing her back into herself as lips brushed against hers softly.
"This is the real?" she asked in a small voice and Tara nodded.
"The really real," she felt the smile against her mouth as soft lips brushed her own in another impossible first kiss, her knees growing weak under the weight of it all. But Tara caught her, holding her fast with one arm, her other draped over one shoulder, a warm hand on Willow's neck as the blonde gently stroked that space behind her ear. And lips again against hers. "Willow," casting a spell, her hand moving to the bare skin of her chest. "I need," the you' was unspoken and understood as Tara finally claimed what had always been hers with a moan that traveled between them in the space of open mouths.
Then the heat was gone, Tara studying her with worried intensity. "Too fast? Because we can just go to bed if you" but her chest was heaving under the brand new shirt Willow didn't recognize. And she wanted. To know. She wanted to learn every inch of this woman over and over again, this body she knew by heart.
"No. I'm just" she ducked her head again and swallowed hard. "I'm so afraid Tara." And felt those hands move over her again.
"I've got you," her voice so calm and sure now all of the doubt gone. Then the inexpressible calm of her hands on clothes and bare skin, undressing her. Unbuttoning her all the way, the gentle pressure of one hand always on heated skin as she uncovered everything. Stripping it all away in layers until Willow stood naked before her. Lips hot again against her own, "And I'm never letting go. Okay?"
She nodded and felt hands slip too her waist, felt the pressure of that deep blue gaze flutter over her skin. Tara reading her in that other way that wasn't about energies and auras. "So beautiful." This was about skin and smell and the weight of what was real, the flush of it spreading through her like fire. She needed the weight of Tara on her now, the all of her against her again.
"Tara," I need and the sentence was completed for her in the heat of a long, lingering kiss as she was pulled and pushed in gentle strokes back to the bed. Their bed. The nubby texture of the bedspread against her back and the soft scrub of Tara's cotton shirt and jeans. And the heat of Tara against her, both of them speaking each other's names over and over in that silent language as she closed her eyes and sank into the soft heavy heat of it.
Until the heat lifted and her eyes flew open in a panic, but Tara was there above her pulling the t-shirt over her head. Tara she wasn't sure if she had spoken it, but the blonde's eyes met hers immediately.
"It's okay sweetie. I'm right here," she said gently and brought her hand to a bare thigh. "I'm not going anywhere." Willow fell into the slow smile in the curve of those lips as Tara stripped the last of her clothes away. And it was just the two of them again with nothing between as warm hands and blue eyes moved over her skin in shimmering waves.
She was unmade as Tara's fingers moved over her, sculpting her with that soft push and pull into the Willow she was meant to be. The Willow she had always been. Taking charge of her again with the lightest touch, driving back the fear with sighs and that forever smile.
"Hold on to me, Willow" And she did, never taking her eyes off her love as she brought her hands up to clutch and pull everything she had lost and regained. To pull it all down to her so she could feel the weight of it against her. So she could make it real with every sense she had, every inch of herself.
Tara's mouth and hands moved over her making her and claiming her with that other magic that lived outside of time. Moving lower and lower
"Tara I need to see you," the words left her in a panic as the blonde made her way back up to her, holding her again with those eyes that really were the center of the universe now, holding her steady in that distanceless space between them.
"It's okay sweetie," she murmured and Willow sighed in to her mouth as their hands traveled over each other in a ritual that she knew was all about that other kind of magic. The magic of heat and wet. The Big Magic. "I've got you," Tara murmured and she felt her take hold of the past and the present, weaving them together with a slow, insistent pressure. But magic
Her eyes flew open to find the blue studying her, new moon dark as they looked into her, helping her find the things she already knew, but couldn't tell herself yet:
The battle with Glory: her own dark magic, Faith and Buffy battling for Dawn as Tara emerged shining from Glory's prison, her magic burning white hot in defense of Willow
Another fall into dark magic, blurry and vague, but TaraTara was there to pull her out of that cold place
A new first kiss immersed in cold and light and deep magic
The two of them over and over entwined like this, glowing and golden and bending the universe with the weight and heat
And finally Tara everywhere as it broke over her in a wave of everything suddenly right there. The past, present and future sliding together in time with their own desperate movements. And that low musical voice whispering her name over and over in that other, deeper language that let her know she was finally where she belongedhome.
The End
Thanks as always for reading and for the wonderful feedback. There's an epilogue, so stay tunedJ