This is an unfinished fic of mine -- but if I get enough interest, I will finish it. It breaks off during the 6th-season episode"Seeing Red." Where and how, I'd prefer to let you find out for yourself.

Disclainer: Joss owns all.

X X X X X

As Tara pulled away from Willow, she said, "Xander!"

Willow gave a wry grin and said, "Okay, not quite the response I was fishing for."

Nodding towards the window, Tara said, "No. He's here." They both went over and saw Xander walking up behind Buffy in the backyard.

Willow asked, "Think they're making up?"

"I hope so. That's the best part." Then she gave an impish grin. "Think we should listen in?"

Tara looked at her. "Willow! I'm ashamed of you."

Immediately, Willow shrank from the force of Tara's words. Damn, Tara thought. I have to remember how fragile she still is. Tara shook her head and said, "No, sweetie. I meant it as a joke."

"Oh," Willow said. "Does this mean --?"

Tara laughed. "You are incorrigible."

Willow wiggled her eyebrows. "Then by all means come over here and incorrige me." Impulsively, Tara stepped forward and swept Willow up in a passionate kiss. When she released her, she and Willow had switched positions. "Whoo," Willow said. "I always said you had me going around in circles, but --" she grinned.

Tara grinned back. In the distance, a truck backfired. No, wait, that's --

The window shattered and blood spattered all over the front of Tara's shirt. Willow said, "this -- is -- ridicul--," and fell to the floor. Blood was beginning to stain her blouse.

Oh, no. No. Please, Goddess, no. Don't take her -- the world needs her. I need her. She knelt down, put her hands on Willow and began to pray to all the gods and goddesses she could think of. Please save Willow. Please. I beg of you, do this for me.

Her prayers, as with so many, went unanswered.

She pulled her hands away as though she had just touched a hot stove.

I just felt her die. I just felt Willow die.

And there's no way to fix it.

Tara felt the tears begin to well up, and forced them back down. She needed to find out what had happened. Gently, she laid Willow on the floor and went downstairs --

And almost crashed into Xander. "Tara! Get Willow. Buffy's been shot."

"Oh, god. Oh, god. What --"

"Warren shot her. I've got to call 911 now." So Buffy was still breathing. Thank the goddess for small miracles.

Xander picked up the phone and made the call, then hung up and yelled out, "Will! Will! Get down here! Warren just shot Buffy!"

"Wait. W-Warren did this?" Warren? That, that incompetent -- he killed her? Killed the woman I love, and maybe Buffy too? I'll -- I'll --

She took a deep breath. I'll make sure he gets what's coming to him if it takes the rest of my life. But I will not kill him. No matter how much I want to.

Distractedly, Xander said, "Yeah. He came in while Buffy and I were talking and told us that we wouldn't get away with it and fired. WILLOW!"

"Xander --" Tara said. "One of the shots, it, it went wild, and --"

Xander caught her meaning right away. His face ashen, he raced upstairs into Willow's room. "No!" he yelled.

Tara ran up after him. As he began to cry, she hugged him.

Then he stopped crying. When he pulled away, Tara saw a cold look on his face. "I'm going to find Warren and pull his intestines out through his ears."

That may be what's coming to him. But not from Xander. "Not yet. We have more important things to do."

Xander nodded his head. "Right. Get Buffy to the hospital, tell Anya and Dawn. Then we kill Warren."

And for some reason, that set Tara to crying. "No," she said. "You can't do this."

"Do what?"

"You can't make me be the strong one. I, I can't cry or deal with it if I'm worried that you're going to run off half-cocked after Warren. I have to be strong if you do that. So promise me. Promise me that you won't do anything stupid. Promise me you'll let me cry." She looked up at him. "Promise me."

Xander closed his eyes. "I will." When he opened them again, he hugged Tara.

"I felt her die," she said as she heard the sirens in the background. "I felt her die . . ."

Part 2

She couldn't hide in the embrace forever. As the sirens got closer, she pulled free and said, "You, you stay for the ambulance. Tell, tell them about Willow. I'll go tell Anya and Dawn."

They walked downstairs. Xander reached into his pocket and handed her his car keys. Shaking her head, Tara said, "No. I, I don't trust myself to drive right now. And the walk might do me some good." I'm likely to wrap myself around a telephone pole either way. At least if I'm walking I'll probably survive the experience.

"Okay," he said. "I'll see you when you get there."

Tara took off down the street. Now all I need to do is figure out what to say. Anya, I can be blunt with. But Dawnie. How am I going to tell Dawnie that Willow's dead and Buffy could be dying?

By the time she got to The Magic Box, she hadn't come up with any easy answers. That's because there aren't any.

She opened the front door and walked in.

Anya walked out from behind the counter. "Tara," she said. "Something horrible has happened, I know. What?"

"How did you know?"

"It was a vengeance. I'm in tune with that sort of thing. What happened?"

"In tune? Are you a --" Anya nodded. "Never mind. That's not important right now. It was Warren. He shot Willow. And, and Buffy."

"What!" Anya fairly yelled.

"And -- and --" she closed her eyes. "Willow's dead."

"I assume you're going to get Warren for this," Anya said.

"If I tell you I plan to, will you do me a favor?"

She pulled out a necklace. "Name it. Better yet, wish it."

Oops. I'd better say this carefully. "Can I wish for Willow not to have been shot?"

Anya shook her head. "That's not vengeance. I can only grant vengeance-related wishes. But if you want Warren skinned alive --"

No. "No." Before Anya could sputter out a response, Tara said, "I want him for myself." Which isn't a lie. Part of me wants that, that bastard dead for what he's done to the woman I love. But I have to keep that part of me in check. God knows what would happen if I let it loose.

"I understand," Anya said. "So, what do you want me to do?"

"Buffy's at the hospital. Just go there -- Xander's there by himself right now."

Anya nodded. "And of course, we'll call Giles."

I, I should have thought of that myself. "Of course. He's going to want to be here for -- for --" And she began to cry again.

Anya was still a millennium out of practice at being compassionate, but this much she'd learned. She came over to Tara and hugged her, albeit a bit awkwardly.

When Anya let her go, Tara said, "Okay. I have to go tell Dawn."

"Go. I'll call Giles and head over."

Tara left.

X X X X X

In the demon bar, Warren laughed. "In her own back yard. Don't underestimate science, my friends. Good old fashioned metal meets propulsion." Everyone else in the bar began to laugh with him.

The bartender said, "Oh, man, this is going to be good."

Triumphantly, Warren said, "The best! The town is ours!"

"Ours? Maybe," a nearby vampire said. "You're screwed." Then he and all the other patrons laughed harder.

"This isn't the evil laugh of victory, is it?" Warren asks.

The vampire snorted. "More like the evil laugh of you're-a-dead-man."

"Okay . . . W hat's the joke?"

"It was just on the news," the bartender said,. "Two girls were shot. One in her backyard, one in an upstairs bedroom. The one in the backyard survived. She's in the hospital. And Slayers heal fast. Real fast."

"And," the vampire said, "Once she finds out you killed her friend, I estimate your life expectancy at about five minutes. I was going to eat you myself during the commercial, but I think it'd be more fun to let her gut you, instead. You might want to get a head start, because she's going to be coming after you bigtime."

Warren thought fast. He hadn't factored in somebody else dying. "Unless," he said, "We take this golden opportunity to hit them first."

The vampire kept laughing. "What are you talking about?"

"Think about it," Warren said. "The Slayer's down and one of her friends is dead. She and they'll never be as vulnerable as they are right now." He paused. "So who's with me?"

He didn't get the rousing cheer he'd hoped for, but he didn't get summarily executed either. "I ain't that dumb," the vampire said. "Neither are most of the demons in here."

The bartender was thinking. "Might not be a bad idea, though." The vampire looked at him as though he was crazy. "Think about it." Then he bent forward and whispered to the vampire.

After a second, the vampire barked out a laugh and said, "Good point." Then, as the bartender went around the bar talking to some of the demons and vampires, the vampire looked at Warren. "Okay, you've got your force."

Warren thought of something. "Keep 'em on ice for a few. There's someone else I need to look up."

The vampire nodded, and Warren left.

Then the bartender and vampire exchanged a glance, and laughed again. "You think he knows we're sticking him with the dummies?"

"Not a clue," the bartender said. "So either they manage to kill the Slayer, or the Slayer rises out of her bed and kills them. Win-win, I say."

Part 3

Telling Dawn had been, as Tara had expected, harder, though at least it hadn't been a problem getting in to see her. Tara and Willow were on the list of people officially allowed to pull Dawn out (a holdover from the days of the Buffybot).

Dawn reacted exactly like Tara had thought; utter and complete disbelief. Just like she'd done when her mom had died. Oh, Dawnie, I understand why you don't want to think the worst. But you have to. Then she realized how patronizing she sounded; she'd always been able to buck up and take death stoically, even when her mom had died, but she knew everyone reacted differently.

I have to be the strong one again. At least until I get her to the hospital. Maybe then I can pass this on to Anya or Xander.

Being sick of walking, Tara hailed a cab and she and Dawn rode to Sunnydale General in utter silence. Dawn didn't want to say anything, and Tara couldn't think of anything to say.

Which left her ample time to reflect.

I just got you back again. Just managed to get you back into my life the way we were meant to be. I know I'll go on without you; I have to. But I have no idea how that's going to happen. You -- you were so wonderful. So beautiful and smart and, and loving. And so strong -- but so, so fragile. The way you reacted to that joke I made. You were worth so much, Willow -- You were so strong just being who you were, and you never knew it. You always thought you had to be doing something to be valuable, whether it was magic or computing or science.

I was so looking forward to showing you otherwise. To showing you the value you had in just being you..

To having you love me again. And being able to love you in return. Without reservation. Without hesitancy.

At least --

At least the last thing I did was kiss you. At least you knew, when you died, that I loved you.

I hope that brings you some peace, as it does to me.

And wherever you are, Willow Rosenberg -- be it Heaven or Hell or somewhere else entirely -- we will be together again. Heaven would not be heaven if you weren't there. And Hell would not be Hell if you were.

They rode on.

X X X X X

The guy coming through the doorway had to be Rack, Warren guessed. "Ah," he said. "I thought I had sent everyone home. No matter; I'm not seeing anyone today." The man grimaced. "Or for the foreseeable future, around here."

Warren said, "I come bearing dead presidents. Does that at least earn me time enough to talk?"

Rack shrugged and took the money, saying, "Yes, but make haste, if you would." As he followed Rack through the door into the inner chamber, Rack said, "How did you find me? I sense no magic in you."

"I paid for the information. Twenty bucks."

"Most of my customers would have told you for five," Rack said. "You were overcharged."

"Yeah, I didn't have time for a lot of quibbling. Look, I'm in a bit of a situation here. I tried to do us all a favor and eliminate the Slayer, but it didn't take. The first time."

Eyebrows raised, Rack said, "Killing a Slayer. Big business for a kid."

"I'm not a kid."

Warren could tell Rack wasn't impressed. "Okay."

"I have my own guys -- the Trio. You heard of us?"

"Right. A band or something?"

Damn. This was not shaping up to be a good day for his ego. First he doesn't kill the Slayer, then the vampires laugh at him, and now this guy? "You haven't heard of any of the things we've done? The freeze ray? My robots?"

"Sorry, no," Rack said. "So why aren't your guys helping you?"

"I thought this was a cash for service gig, not an interview process. I need help. I have to go take out the Slayer before she gets better and takes me out."

Rack nods. "So it's you . . . "

"So it's me, what?"

"You're the reason I'm packing up and leaving," Rack said. "What you've done -- it's got the potential to rip this town apart."

"That's why I'm going after the Slayer now," Warren explained. "That's why I need your help."

"It's not the Slayer you're going to need to worry about. It's everybody else. And once they get done with you, they're going to come after anyone who helped you. And these aren't people I can deal with. These aren't people I can control. They're not like Willow, or that Madison girl."

"So you're saying I can't win."

"I'm saying if you do, you're going to do it without my help." He tossed the money back at Warren. "My advice to you is to run."

"Yeah, thanks for all the help, Nostradamus," Warren said as he stormed out.

Behind him, Rack said, "I hear Cleveland's nice this time of year . . . "