Title: "Your Shirt"
By: CircleOfStone
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: PG
Paring: Willow/Tara
Summary: "She loved Tara with all of her heart and she hoped to goddess that one day she could make it official. But for now, she was happy with just basking in the rays that was her sun. Her Tara."
Warnings: Sadness and Character Death
Disclaimer: hmmmmm… If I was Joss Whedon ponders life would be good. I would not only own Buffy and Angel, but I would never have let Fire Fly die and would have hit FOX over the head with a Frying pan. But I am not Joss Whedon and thus I do not own any of this. I am just a humble admirer who writes fan fiction.
A/N: How come every time I try and write a happy Fanfic, it always comes out with sadness and makes me want to cry. Sigh

Looking up at the sky her eyes flashed an emerald green. The sun had just then decided to go behind a cloud… Oh well, nothing the little red head could do about it.

Slowly she turned her head back down to the one she loved, enjoying the feel of the witch's head laying in her lap. Her crisp white shirt slowly wrinkling as she picked at a small yellow flower in her hands.

"What were you just thinking about?" the blonde asked. She tied the yellow flower around her left ring finger and admired it with a small twinkle in her eyes.

"Nothing." Seeing the look the blonde was giving her she sighed. "Just wondering if I would ever be able to get you a real one of those." She pointed to the flower on Tara's finger.

She loved Tara with all of her heart and she hoped to goddess that one day she could make it official. But for now, she was happy with just basking in the rays that was her sun. Her Tara.

Smiling, Willow crinkled her nose as she laughed at Tara.

"You have a ant crawling in your hair."

Tara shrugged. "It'll go away eventually." Willow knew that Tara was right, but decided to scoot it along any way. Then she placed her right hand on Tara's forehead, slowly moving her thumb back and forth feeling the soft rose petal like skin.

The sun finally peeked out of the clouds and caught Tara's golden locks, making them glow with an almost magical light. Willow once again smiled and bent down to kiss her, not able to resist the urge that welled up in her every time she saw Tara's beautiful shining face.

Slowly, Willow let her lips caress Tara's, feeling a shiver going down the blonde's back. She smiled even wider and intensified the kiss a little more and felt her lover gasp, in shock or happiness. Which? Willow did not know. So she charged on ahead pushing down on the lips harder, wanting only to feel her more than ever.

But something was wrong. Tara was no longer responding to the kissing. In fact, her lips and the skin under Willow's thumb seemed suddenly cold.

Pulling herself back, she saw Tara's eyes looking back up into hers with a hurt, glassy eyed expression. Her face was losing its normally rosy, healthy tone and was being replaced with a chalky, almost gray one. Then Willow felt it. Her hand that was resting on Tara's chest felt a warm sticky liquid rushing past her fingers.

It was blood.

Tara was dying in Willow's arms and she could do nothing about it. She wanted to scream, to yell, as something started to claw it's way into her.

It was all too real.

It was all so wrong.

But all she could manage to say in a soft confused tone was, "Your shirt."

Willow sat up quickly and looked around wildly into the dark night. She let out a soft whimper as she sniffled back a tear and rubbed her nose on her pink fluffy bunny PJ's.

She had this dream almost every night. It was always different. A different time. A different place. But it always ended the same, Tara dying in her arms.