Title: Willow Rosenberg, Child Psychologist

Author: mistymidnight

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I own the plot, as well as Taylor, Maxwell, Carly, Erin, Noah, and Aimee. Gidgetgirl owns Zane, Thayer, Sophie, Lola, as well as the plot to the companion fic to this one, "Fully Qualified". Joss Whedon owns the canon and all the characters not mentioned in this disclaimer. (Excluding Lola's mother, who I also own and haven't bothered to name.)

Spoilers/Timeline: Post-Chosen, after my other fic "Fully Qualified".

Summary: Sequel to "Fully Qualified". Willow's life has quieted down. But do things ever stay quiet when you're a Scooby?

Author's Notes: My apologies about the lack of updates. There's really no excuse this time…I just got lazy. Bad me.

Bad Dream

"My mom thought this would never work out. She was all, 'Once a cheater, always a cheater'."

Willow popped a carrot stick in her mouth and watched the television intently. It was nearly eleven-thirty, Taylor was in bed, and Friends was on TV. She was off the hook until Carly came home, which—if the weather didn't slow her down too much—would be in about a half-hour.

"But the way you owned up to everything," the television (or Rachel on Friends, depending on your point of view) continued, "just showed me how much you've grown, you know?"

"Mmhmm," Ross replied.

"Oh, I just wish we hadn't lost those three months," Rachel went on. "But if time was what you needed to gain a little perspective…"

"Willow?"

Willow turned around. Taylor was standing next to the sofa, holding a stuffed rabbit in her hands.

"What's wrong, Taylor?"

"WE WERE ON A BREAK!" the television yelled.

"I don't feel good," Taylor replied, casting a wary eye toward the television. "Is that Friends?"

"Um, yes," Willow said, not quite sure which question to answer first.

"We have it on DVD," Taylor informed her. "No commercials."

"Oh," Willow responded, somewhat perplexed at the turn the conversation had taken.

"They're Mommy's DVDs," Taylor went on, "but I don't think she'd mind if you watched them. She's had them since forever, and she never watches them anymore. She's never home."

"That's not true," Willow said, before steering the discussion back to the topic at hand. "You don't feel good, sweetie?"

"No," Taylor responded. "My tummy hurts."

"Are you hungry? Do you want some carrots?"

"No."

"You don't want carrots or you're just not hungry?"

"Both."

"How about we get you some medicine, then?"

"No!"

Willow turned around at the amount of force Taylor had spoken with. "You don't like medicine, Taylor?"

Taylor rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. "No, no, no, no, no. No!"

"What's the matter? Taylor? Taylor!"

All Willow could do was catch Taylor as she collapsed.

She was watching as the woman walked down the long, empty hallway. It was quiet, and gray, and scary. Suddenly the hand grabbed the woman's shoulders. She was spun around into the wall, her head making a sickening sound, somewhere between a crack and a thud.

"Stop!" the woman screamed. "Stop it, please! I'll give you her! She's the one you want!"

And then everything was black.

"Taylor? Taylor, wake up."

Willow gently shook Taylor's tense body. As she shook, Taylor's eyes flickered open and she asked, "Where's Mommy?"

"She's not home yet, sweetie."

"I need her. I had a bad dream."

"Your mom said you'd been having a lot of those lately."

Taylor nodded.

"Taylor," Willow began, "what do you dream about?"

"Hands," Taylor said. "The hands hurt people."

"Just the hands?"

"Yes."

"What do they do?"

"They…they choke me. They banged a lady's head into a wall." She whimpered and whispered, "I'm scared."

"Okay, Taylor," Willow said, helping Taylor to sit up. "Here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna draw some pictures, okay?"

"Okay," Taylor sniffed.

"Now, where do you keep the paper and crayons?"

Taylor pointed to a box sitting on a shelf in the kitchen. Willow retrieved it and set it on the coffee table.

"Okay, Taylor, this will help make your bad dream go away." She handed Taylor a piece of paper and a crayon. "Draw what you saw in the dream."

Taylor took the crayon and paper and carefully drew a woman in a hallway.

"Where are the hands?" Willow asked.

Taylor shrugged. "I never see the hands, really," she offered. "But I know they're there. When do I feel better?"

"Right now," Willow said. "Now, draw something funny in the dream."

"Like what?"

"Like, um, bubbles, coming right out of that lady's ears."

Taylor smiled a little bit and drew some circles hovering around the woman's head. "What else?"

"It's your turn. You think of something."

Taylor thought for a moment, then said, "A Jell-O mold."

"Sure," Willow said. Whatever flips your switch.

Taylor's small smile broke into a grin and she began to draw what Willow assumed to be a Jell-O mold, following it with what Taylor said was an elephant wearing Bermuda shorts, a tap-dancing table lamp, and a football coach wearing a ballet costume.

Neither one of them noticed the time (1:52), or the fact that Carly still wasn't home.

Finally, a new chapter! It's been long enough, huh?

Quick disclaimer: I don't own Friends. (Kinda wish I did, though.)

mistymidnight