Chapter 17

The apartment wasn't the same without her.

Tara spent all of three days back at her and Willow's place before deciding that she couldn't live there alone. They'd lived there for over 3 years – the longest they'd been in any one place. She gave the landlord her notice, then started boxing up Willow's things, and preparing to move back to Sunnydale. It just hurt too much.

The company Willow had worked for accepted the story of Willow still being in a coma for an indefinite period. Tara had already called Willow's boss after the spell to say that she'd been in an accident and wouldn't be in to work right away. Willow's boss extended his sympathy, and sent the bonus Willow was to get at the end of the month, wanting to be helpful with the medical bills.

"Hey," Kara greeted softly, when she showed up to load Tara's things into the truck. She gave the blonde a long hug. "Why don't you come stay at the house for a bit? Give yourself the proper time to adjust, hmm?"

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to intrude," the blonde softly replied.

"Sweetie, you're family. What kind of best friend would I be if I dropped you off to be all alone right now? You'll always be welcomed in our home."

"Thank you. What about my things?"

"You can bring in the boxes that you need, and we'll put the furniture in the garage. There's enough space," Kara answered.

"Okay," Tara sighed.

"Glad that's settled, Glinda. Let's get to work – this lot isn't going to move itself," Spike said, coming from the other side of the moving van. He brushed the briefest of kisses against Tara's temple as he went by, and entered the apartment to start grabbing boxes. Tara stood blinking in surprise, unsure if that had really happened, until Kara linked arms with her and pulled her inside.

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"Aunt TARA!" the twins yelled, spotting her as she entered the Browning residence. The gentle witch barely had a moment to brace herself before they attached themselves to her legs in a mini version of a bear hug.

"I'm glad to see you, too, girls. I guess it's been a while since I dropped by, huh?" she said with a smile.

"Uh-huh! We gots lots to tell you," Ana replied.

"'Have', Bit…not 'gots'," her father said, carrying in some of Tara's things.

"Ooops. We have lots to tell you?"

"I'm looking forward to it. Hi, Stephanie. How are you?" Tara said.

"Pretty good. Come on, girls. Let's get out of the way of all the boxes," she replied, herding the girls further towards the living room.

"Aunt Tara? Are you staying?" Lillian asked.

"For a little while, sweetie." Lillian gave her a quick, effusive hug.

"Good." The younger twin then scurried off to join her sister and aunt.

"Was it just those four boxes you wanted inside?" Kara asked, carrying one of them.

"Yeah…which room am I taking?"

"The bigger one on the right, next to the girls'. It has its own bathroom."

"Thanks. Just let me grab a snack, and I'll help you guys empty the moving van," Tara suggested.

"Don't worry about it. Go catch up with Ana and Lilli. They've missed you."

"Are you sure, Kara? I can pull my own weight…"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Spike and I have a system. It won't take us long," Kara assured her.

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" Tara realized.

"Nope. You're my guest, and that includes getting off the hook sometimes. Go, play. I insist." She smiled encouragingly at Tara, then continued upstairs.

Aunt Tara taught us a lot of things. She'd gotten her pre-school/daycare certification back in college, and it came in handy for us supernatural types who didn't always fit in at school.

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Willow stood in a place that wasn't really a place. Her mind interpreted it as swirling mists.

"Where am I?" she called.

"An interim place. This is where we come together in between times when we are needed."

"Who are you? Show yourself. The voice in the sky thing is a bit creepy."

"Do you remember agreeing to help us?" the disembodied voice asked.

"Yeah…but you said it was for the good of my friends, that helping you would help Buffy. This just feels like I'm standing in a fog. If you're going to keep with the cryptic, I'd rather go home," Willow replied.

"You are where you are supposed to be, child. And now, it is time to send you off to your training."

Willow felt like she was suddenly swirling down a drain, and the world went black as she traveled. She arrived at her new destination unconscious. A kindly old woman made sure she was comfortable on the bed, smoothed back Willow's hair, and lit a candle on the nightstand. It had been a long time since she'd had a visitor.

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(Aunt Tara, are you sad?)

(Lillian? You surprised me…when did you learn to talk like this, sweetie?)

(It's new…) "You feel sad, in here," she whispered, her tiny hand patting Tara's chest.

Tara placed the girl on her lap. "Yes, that's true. Aunt Willow has to go away for a while, and I miss her."

"Oh…is she coming back?"

"Yes…once she's done helping someone. I'll be okay, Lily-pad. You don't need to worry, okay?"

"Okay. Love you, Tara. Don't want you sad."

The witch gently squeezed Lillian in a comforting hug. "I love you, too, sweetie. Thank you for asking about me. Look at how long your hair's getting. Did your mom braid it for you today?"

"Unh-uh. Aunt Steff did it." Lillian got a weird look on her face and scratched at her French-braided scalp. "Feels funny."

Tara giggled. "You just aren't used to it, that's all. How do you usually like it?"

"Down. Ana likes piggy-tails," she replied, like she was confessing a secret.

They continued to chat while the others were busy. Tara knew her friend wouldn't let her in the room until she'd fussed over it to perfection, and Ana was outside with Kara's sister, enjoying the long hours of daylight. Ana didn't like being inside if she didn't have to be.

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"Mom? Giles?" Dawn called, entering the house. There was no answer, so she shrugged, guessing they were still at work. "Come on in and make yourself comfortable, honey," she said to Michael.

Dawn continued into the kitchen to see what was in the refrigerator, and found a note stuck to it. Dawn…We're going out to eat after work, so you're on your own for dinner. It's good to have you home for the summer again. Love, Mom. She grabbed a peach, then walked back into the living room to plop on the couch next to her boyfriend.

"They're not going to be home for a while, so it's just you and me. We can order pizza, or Chinese, if you want. Get cozy with some videos?" she suggested.

"Sure. I'm happy as long as I get to spend time with you. I don't want to go back home this summer," he complained.

"So, don't. You could get a job down here and stay, you know," Dawn replied.

"I could…but then, my mom would lay the guilt trip on me for not coming up like I said I would, and my little sister will whine about me not rescuing her from Mom and Dad. I might as well put in my last summer of babysitting duty. As long as I graduate, I'm free to do whatever I want afterwards."

Dawn licked the sweet peach juice off of her lips after taking a couple bites. "Want some?" she offered, holding the fruit out to him.

"Don't mind if I do," Michael replied, and leaned in to kiss her. His tongue swept across her lips, coaxing hers to come out to play.

Their kisses had become more fervent in the past few months. Dawn couldn't really say why, only that it had seemed to mutually happen on both sides, and now, more often then not, their dates included making out until one of them absolutely had to go home. None of the other boys she'd dated could inspire the tingles that her boyfriend did with just a look, or a simple kiss. She took that as a good sign.

"I love these lips," he said, when they parted, brushing his thumb along the lower one. "Even how you nibble right here, when you're concentrating on schoolwork," he teased.

"I do not!"

"Do, too. Always have. It's an adorable trait."

"Flatterer…I'm not doing your laundry for you before you leave," she quipped.

"Darn," he said, blue eyes twinkling with mirth. "And here I thought I could distract you into agreeing…"

"Yeah, right! I don't even like doing my own cleaning, so I'm certainly not going to do yours unless we're married, or something," she shot back.

"Somehow, I think I'd still be stuck with my own laundry."

"Only the smelly stuff. I'd make a concession for the rest if there was a marital bond. I'm gracious like that." Dawn took another bite of peach and winked at him.

"Oh, it's very generous of you. Any requirements of the guy in that sitch?"

"Hmm…well, obviously, nothing gross…like cutting his toenails in bed, and stuff. All the messy, smelly jobs are his – like taking out the garbage and unclogging sinks and toilets. Oh! And foot rubs. I require good foot rubs."

"Of course. As a photo journalist, you'll be on your feet all day, getting stories."

"Exactly! Let's order something. I'm starving!"

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Tara's eyes shot open, waking from another dream. Her head rolled to the side to glance at the clock. 3:00 AM. After unsuccessfully trying to fall asleep for another half hour, she decided to get up and make some chamomile tea.

Piano music floated to her ears as she reached the bottom of the staircase. Curious, she followed the sound of the beautiful melody to the music room. Spike was sitting at the piano, playing something from memory, the room only lit by moonlight coming through the window. She stood at the doorway, just admiring how deftly he manipulated the keys, not wanting to disturb the vampire.

"It's alright, pet. You can come in," he said, not looking up from the keys.

"You play beautifully," she complemented, coming closer.

"I'm alright," he said, shrugging modestly. "Bit better, now, with the piano in the house. Mum insisted I have lessons as a boy. What are you doing up this late?"

"Woke up from a dream. Couldn't get back to sleep. I was coming down to make some tea, when I heard the music. Do you do this often?" she softly asked.

"Here and there. My natural hours are a bit different, obviously. Kara would rather I busy myself, than keep 'er up by not fallin' asleep at night. Says I fidget too much," he admitted. Spike played the last notes of the song, and shut the lid. He spun around on the bench to face Tara.

"Mmm, I've noticed that she's up earlier now, on the girls' schedule. So, what else do you do when you're up alone?"

"Jus' stuff. Watch a flick, take a walk, the usual…" he replied vaguely.

Tara nodded. "Well, I'll leave you to that…" She turned to go, only to have him join her side.

"Mind if I join you for a cuppa?"

She smiled genuinely. "Of course not."

Spike busied himself filling the teakettle and pulling out the proper tea things while Tara searched in the pantry for her box of chamomile tea. She took out a bag, then got two mugs out of the cupboard.

"Does tea taste the same for you, as it used to?" she asked curiously.

"Not exactly, but I still enjoy a strong cup. The taste of most human food is dimmed for a vampire's tongue. Hence my love for spices. Sweets weren't effected much, though."

Tara giggled. "Yeah, I've noticed your love of chocolate rivals Kara's."

"Well, it's not like I 'ave to worry about it ruinin' my girlish figure," he quipped.

"Touché." Tara observed the vampire as he puttered about, waiting for the water to boil.

He was dressed in an old, faded band t-shirt – the writing illegible – black sweats, and bare feet, his hair a bit mussed. It was such a contrast to how he'd been when she'd first met him, that first year in college. That Spike would have never looked so relaxed around any human. There had been brief glimpses of the softer inside over the summer after Adam's defeat, when she'd stop by to see Dawn, and Spike would be in the kitchen talking with Joyce. His aura had always given him away to her, too. Kara's simple acceptance had been all it took to start releasing the man within the demon. She was proud of how far he'd come.

"Here you go, pet. Don' burn yourself."

"Spoken like a true parent," she teased.

"Yeah, well…it's jus' habit, nowadays," he said bashfully. "How's the room for you? Comfy enough?" he asked, wanting the attention off himself.

"Mmm-hmm. Thank you. It's very comfortable."

"Good…good. Adjustments aren't always easy." The compassion and understanding in his eyes told her what he didn't say.

"No, not always. I guess all we can do is try to adapt," Tara replied. "I had fun, reconnecting with the girls. Lillian showed me something new today."

"Oh?"

"She spoke to me, telepathically. Full sentences. Kara hadn't mentioned she was up to that stage, yet."

"I didn't know she was…I mean, she communicates with Ana, even the boy, but we'd assumed it was pictures and feelings still…We had to pull her out of pre-school a couple months ago because she was overwhelmed by the children's thoughts. Bloody hell…if she's this adept at 4…" The thought of what his little girl could do as an adult was overwhelming, and not just a tad frightening.

"Well, it was only a couple sentences, before she switched back to talking verbally. She sensed how I'm feeling, and had questions. I don't think we have to worry just yet, Spike. If Lillian can't block passive thoughts, yet, then she certainly doesn't have the control to purposefully enter other minds. I'm more inclined to it because Willow and I are so used to communicating that way on patrols," she assured.

"It's easy with Ana, you know? She says exactly what she means, exactly when she feels it. Happy as a clam as long as she can run around all day. And the girl has no fear. I caught her trying to climb a tree, the other day, because Lillian told her she couldn't do it." His hand rubbed over his face. "They're going to give me gray hairs, if that's possible."

Tara patted his hand. "I don't think so, unless you plan on becoming human anytime soon. Just think of Xander and Anya – they have number 3 on the way."

He snorted a laugh. "Yeah, who knew the Harris genes were so potent? I don't envy the tosser, with Demon Girl's latest mood swings."

"It will get better, once she's past the 6th month. Well, the tea has helped me relax, so I'm going to try to get back to sleep," Tara said, getting up to rinse out her mug.

"Alright, luv. Sweet dreams." She smiled at him, after putting the mug in the dishwasher, and started to leave. "Oh, and Tara?"

"Hmm?"

"If it's up to Red, she'll be back as soon as she can. You're the type of girl you don't leave, if you can help it."

She smiled brilliantly, the first since Willow had done the spell. "Thanks, Spike," she softly replied, and headed off to bed.

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Willow tried sitting up, feeling like she had slept too long…or something. Where am I? The last thing she remembered was chanting the spell to close the Hellmouth, and feeling that it was working. Now, she was in what appeared to be a small, old house or cabin, and nothing felt or smelled familiar.

Just then, a woman came bustling in through the door with a tray of what smelled like breakfast. "Oh, good! You're awake! I was hoping you wouldn't sleep another day away. We have so much to do."

"Who are you, and where am I?" Willow asked suspiciously. Not that the little old woman looked dangerous – more like the grandmotherly type – but you never could tell.

"You're in my home, and my name is Beatrice. I'll tell you, it's so nice to have someone else around the place. It's been so quiet since my husband passed on years ago. We didn't have any children. I hope you're hungry!" She set the tray on Willow's lap, and stood back, grinning.

"Are we still in California? How did I get here?" Everything felt a little fuzzy.

"Oh, no…California is a long way from here. You're in Quebec Province. As for how…well, you were dropped off, by a nice emissary named Doyle. Such a nice young man. Now, hurry up and eat! It's already an hour past sunrise, and we have work to do!" Beatrice left with the same flourish she'd come in, saying something about putting fresh towels in the bathroom.

Eggs and pancakes – her favorite get-you-started-in-the-morning breakfast. Did the old lady somehow know that? The only thing that would improve on it would be some fresh coffee.

"Oh, I hope you like coffee, dear. I would have brought it in with the tray, but it hadn't finished percolating. The bathroom is right next door. There are clean towels, and a change of clothes. I'm sure you'll want to freshen up." Beatrice set the mug down on the nightstand, and left.

Okay…this is getting really weird.