Author's note: This is the next-to-last chapter. Thanks to all the readers and reviewers.

Disclaimer: I am not Joss Whedon. Were I Joss Whedon, I would be richer and auditioning good-looking brunettes to play Wonder Woman, before using Charisma Carpenter, the way he will if he's smart.

X X X X X

The Sunnydale police, as always, showed up a day late and a dollar short; they took note of the "gang war" that had clearly taken place in front of the ER before they, along with a half dozen ER doctors and nurses, came barreling into Buffy's room.

While Xander, Tara, Anya and Angel were quietly hustled out of there – and while both Dawnie and Gunn were being treated for blows to the back of the head – Warren was busy confessing all of his evil deeds to anyone and everyone in earshot: How he'd killed Willow, and tried to kill Buffy, twice. How he'd planned that museum heist back in October. How he'd killed his ex-girlfriend, Katrina Silber, by breaking a bottle over her skull when she was trying to leave him.

Thank all gods and goddesses everywhere they dragged him off before he started confessing to parking violations.

Everyone met once more in the ER waiting area – the Groosalugg and Cordelia had hidden their weapons somewhere, and somehow Xander and Mr. Giles had convinced the warrior to not tell valiant stories of their heroic struggle against the demon army – at least, not loudly enough so that the police could hear them.

Anya, however, couldn't be stopped from telling everyone about the vengeance Tara had taken on Warren.

When she was done, everyone looked at Tara. It was Cordelia who spoke first. "Remind me," she said, "Never to piss you off."

"Consider yourself reminded," Angel said. "You did to him what the gypsies did to me so long ago."

That's a good analogy, Angel.

"Yes," Tara said. "I, I guess I did. Except there's no escape clause for him. No easy way out back to what it was like when he didn't have a conscience."

"Even if there was that sort of escape clause," Mr. Giles said. "From the way you phrased your wish I doubt he'd be able to take advantage of it."

"Good," Xander said firmly, which is a sentiment everyone else seemed to echo.

"So we need to figure out what to do next," Angel said. "I mean, at some point we're going to need to get back to Los Angeles."

"Maybe the same way we came," Cordelia said. "Anya?"

When she didn't answer, everyone looked around. She was nowhere in sight.

X X X X X

The weather was typical for Arash'maharr: smoky, with a chance of more smoke.

"So, time for my annual performance review?" Anya said more cheerfully than she felt.

"Hardly," D'Hoffryn rumbled. "You have been abusing your power of the wish recently."

"Every single one of them was connected to a vengeance," Anya said hotly.

"Tenuously, at best, except for the last one," D'Hoffryn said. "You twisted and bent the meaning of the word vengeance to help these people."

"Twisted and bent is not broken."

D'Hoffryn harrumphed. "True. Still, you would not have done this for anyone else. Why, Anyanka?"

"Because . . . because I still care about them. Even that idiot who left me at the altar. It might be easier if I didn't, but I do." Then she added. "And I hated that Willow as dead and I couldn't do anything about it."

"Willow," D'Hoffryn said. "Did I ever tell you I once offered her a position as a vengeance demon?"

Anya blinked. "No."

"She turned me down. Pity; she would have made an excellent addition. And now she is dead."

"And vengeance has been taken on her behalf."

D'Hoffryn laughed. "Yes. That last wish. That was . . . an astonishing vengeance, Anyanka. One of the best, I believe, that you have ever done in your thousand years-plus as a vengeance demon. And that is why I am doing this." He leaned forward and took her necklace off.

"I do one of my all-time greatest vengeances and you're stripping me of my powers?"

"No. You did one of you greatest vengeances and for that reason I am letting you live." He shook his head. "It was a mistake bringing you back into the fold, Anyanka. You have spent far too much time among humans to ever be a truly capable vengeance demon again." He held up a hand to forestall her objections. "Yes, your vengeance on Mr. Mears was extraordinary. But you did not do it solely for the sake of a good vengeance – and Ms. MacLay was not a scorned woman. Do not deny this."

Anya couldn't.

"I will always have an affection for you, Anyanka. You have not failed; I failed you. If you wish to converse about old times, please do summon me."

With a gesture, she was back in the ER waiting room.

"What happened?" everyone asked pretty much at once.

"Oh, I just got fired," she said.

X X X X X

Then they all had to decide what to do next. Angel said he was going to stick around, at least until Buffy was better, so someone could keep an eye on Sunnydale for as long as it took Buffy to recover. Cordelia said she was staying with him.

Tara saw Cordelia and the Groosalugg having a quiet conversation not long after she made this announcement; once they were done, the Groosalugg said that he would be going back to Los Angeles "to protect it while its champion was busy elsewhere."

I suspect the two of them just broke up. If so, it's one of the more amiable breakups I've ever seen.

Dawn hadn't even gotten a concussion, thank goodness; a small cut, but a couple of stitches took care of that. In the meantime, Buffy was moved to a regular hospital room.

The next day, Gunn – whose head wound had also been minor -- and the Groosalugg took a rental car -- which everyone chipped in and paid for – and headed back to Los Angeles. Everyone else was taking turns staying in the hospital, patrolling, and sleeping.

Sometime in the middle of the morning, Mr. Giles came up to Tara and said, gently, "How long has it been since you've slept?"

Tara checked her watch. "27 hours."

"I'm taking you home," he said. "Xander is here, Dawn is here, and everyone else has gotten some sleep in the interim."

"I, I want to be here when –"

"You have gone above and beyond the call of duty, Tara," Mr. Giles said. "You kept everyone together. You made certain Buffy was protected – and you caught Willow's killer and punished him in a way that no court system will ever be able to match. Xander told me that you felt like you had to be the strong one during the crisis." After a second. "The crisis is over."

He's right. I've been running on autopilot for the last twelve hours.

Tara let Giles take her back to 1630 Revello Drive. She went upstairs to change –

And was caught up by the site of the blood on the floor.

Willow's blood.

My Willow. Whom I will never see again until I die.

I will be with you again someday. But right now – right now –

And finally, finally, Tara was able to let it all out. She fell to their bedroom floor and cried.

X X X X X

When she woke again, she was in her nightgown and it was the middle of the afternoon. Somehow she'd gotten herself dressed and fallen asleep – in Buffy's bed, she noticed.

She had no memory of any of it.

Tara had dreamed, at one point, that she was making love to Willow. Waking up and remembering that it wasn't true and would never be again --

Eventually, she cried herself out.

She called Giles at the hospital. Buffy still wasn't awake, but her condition had been upgraded from critical to serious but stable. She would live.

Thank the goddess.

Then she went and did the one last thing she had to do.

Though it felt like a violation, looking through Willow's personal phone book, she finally found the number she was looking for.

Hoping it was still accurate, she pressed the buttons on the phone.

"Hey," came the voice at the other end.

"Is this Oz?"

"Yes. And you're not Willow."

"No. This is – this is Tara."

"Her girlfriend," Oz said.

"Yes."

"What happened?" When Tara didn't speak, he said. "Wouldn't have called me if something hadn't happened. What is it?"

"I'm sorry, Oz," Tara said. "She was – she was killed yesterday."

A long period of silence from the other end of the phone; then one word. "How?"

"She was shot. Someone was trying to kill Buffy and the shot went wild. She died in my arms."

"I'm sorry," Oz said, sounding like he meant it. "Tell me everything."

Tara did, from when the Trio had decided to harass Buffy up until the moment Tara called down Anya's vengeance wish.

"So he's punished?"

"He's punished."

"Good." After a second, "You could have called me in earlier."

"My last experience with you and anger?" Tara said. "Not, not of the good."

"You didn't want my wolf to come out." It wasn't a question.

"No."

Oz said, "You couldn't have known. I've improved my control."

"I'm sorry, then."

"Like I said. You couldn't have known. When's the funeral?"

She hadn't even thought about a funeral. "As soon as I can arrange it."

"I'll be there tomorrow. Can you wait?"

"I can. And I will."

X X X X X

The funeral was held two days later. Oz had made it. Everyone was graveside except Angel. Willow's parents had been a little miffed that their daughter hadn't been buried in the traditional Jewish fashion, but their grief was genuine, despite their lack of real insight into who their daughter was.

As the Wiccan services ended, everyone started drifting away until only Tara and Xander stood there looking at the stone.

WILLOW ROSENBERG

1981-2002
HER LIFE WAS MAGICAL