She was gone.

The young witch looked around the room she shared with her partner, and her absence was palpable. It was a bittersweet pain, the kind you gladly endure because it means thinking of someone you love. But there was concern mixing with it too, because it wasn't like her girl to miss a…"play date." She smiled to herself. So like her friend to call it that. But now she really was getting worried. She looked around the room for a note. "Gone to play with Giles—keep the home fires burning," or something like that.

Tara Maclay needed to know where Willow was. In Sunnydale, people didn't just disappear—well, actually, they did, that was the problem. She didn't want to hit the panic button right away—Buffy and Xander and all the rest of them were still decompressing after the final battle with Glory. Tara herself was still shaky now that she was in her right mind again. But this was not good.

Stop it, she told herself. You're behaving like an old wife. She flopped down on the bed, closed her eyes and imagined herself and Will as two old ladies rattling around an even older house. Maybe something up in San Francisco. She could see herself getting heavily into the domestic thing; making much with the teapots. Maybe we can invite Xander for a little arsenic and old lace, she thought with an evil smile. Willow would be shocked. Willow. Where the hell is Willow?

To comfort herself, she started thinking back to all the adventures they'd had together and the ones Willow had told her about that had taken place before they'd met. In all of them, did Willow…directly…have an enemy? Buffy, to be sure, had dozens, and Willow had helped stop enough of them that they might come after her. But wouldn't they go for the Slayer first? She knew she was making herself crazy, but in a funny way worrying took her mind off worrying. Willow hadn't even been gone that long. She'd probably come through that door any second with apologies and/or some story about having stopped off at the candle store…and if Tara were lucky, offers to make it up to her. Yeah, that's what would happen. Any second now. Any second…now! Now!

Willow clearly didn't know her part in this little scene, because she was missing her cue. Tara wondered idly what had ever happened to Willow's drama class, she'd been so excited about taking it and a few weeks after she and her friends had that post-apocalypse aversion video night party, she'd let it drop. Somehow Tara had never gotten around to asking her about it.

She was tired but she knew she'd never be able to sleep until Willow was there, or at least she knew where she was. If she got really desperate she could do a locator spell, but if Willow was just running late for completely human, not at all Hellmouthy-related reasons, that would be something the redhead would be smirking about for a week.

"You thought something had happened to me. You luuuuuv me," she could hear her girlfriend almost singing. "You know how embarrassing it is when one of those teeny tinkerbell lights shows up at a Baskin-Robbins? Xander almost dropped his double-scoop."

You are being silly, Tara thought. A knock came at the door, and Tara almost bounced off the bed to answer it. "Forget your key…?" she started to ask as she threw the door open. But then she froze, her body tensed. Because the last time she'd seen the person on the other side of that door, he'd tried to tear her throat out.

"Hi, Tara, " said Oz. "I've got something for you."

He was reaching into his coat. What was…oh my goddess, Tara thought. It was a gun.

She dove behind the bed as quickly as she could, almost as scared as she had ever been in her life (and what kind of life was she leading where her girlfriend's ex showing up with a gun wasn't the most frightening thing in her life, she wondered), her mind racing for a spell that would stop Oz without killing him. Tara never liked killing anything, not even spiders, and least of all someone Willow had loved and still cared about. Willow. Oh my goddess, again, had he done something to Willow? Was he here now to finish the job?

With all these thoughts rushing through her head, it took Tara a few moments to realize that Oz wasn't moving from the doorway. He wasn't coming after her. He wasn't firing. She took a chance and raised her eyes over the bed. Oz looked down at her from the door.

"O-o-oz?"

"Hi. I guess you weren't expecting to see me."

"N-no. Not…really. Willow's not here."

"I know. At least I was afraid of that. That's kind of why I'm here." He showed her the gun. Now that her heart was starting to slow down, Tara could see that it wasn't a traditional handgun but some kind of modified device.

"This is for tranquilizers," Oz was saying as he tossed it onto the bed where Tara could reach it. "I've been working really hard, but, just in case…I thought you should have this handy. And maybe it's better if you stay on the other side of the room. Can I come in?"

Tara took the gun and rose, a little embarrassed at her reflexive reaction to Oz's sudden appearance at their door.

"I didn't know werewolves needed to wait for an invitation," she said.

"We don't. I was just being friendly."

"Come in," Tara said.

Oz entered the room fully and shut the door. He leaned against the wall and looked at Tara. Nervously, she sat in the chair and looked back.

"So what's going on?"

"I think something might have happened to Willow."

Tara's heart started to race again.

"What?"

"Have you ever heard of a Witches Moon?"

"No…."

"It's something I started to hear about…rumors…about people like me. But it's hard to get confirmation, because, well…when werewolves meet, we don't talk a lot."

Tara blushed, feeling the heat on her cheeks.

"Go on."

"Well, anyway, a Witches Moon is this night that happens only once every three or four years."

"Like leap year."

"Right. It's this night when, if a werewolf finds a powerful enough witch and…"

Neither of them wanted him to finish the sentence.

"W-what happens…a—a-after?"

"Well, if it's done just right, supposedly….the wolf takes on all the witches powers."

"A witcherewolf?"

"A werewolf witch."

Tara could see that Oz was sweating, and she wasn't sure if it was from fear of what might have happened to Willow, or because he was straining to keep himself from changing.

"B-b-b-but how would anybody know about…I mean, why Willow?"

Oz looked at her, cocking his head in a way so much like a dog that Tara would have giggled under any other circumstances.

"I don't know. Did Will do anything recently, use more magic than usual, something that might have red-flagged her to someone who knew what to look for?"

"Y-yes." Tara thought about what Willow and Spike had told her about what Willow had done after Glory sucked her mind away. Willow had tried to play it off. "Nobody messes with my baby," she'd said. "Ever, ever, ever." But one night at Buffy's house Spike had gotten Tara alone and said "Don't let her kid you. She used powerful, powerful magiks to lash out and hurt the person—or deity, more like—who hurt you. You should be grateful. You should also be worried. I would be." Tara had to concede (at least to herself) that he had a point.

"I was…hurt," she said to Oz. "Willow did some things to the person who hurt me. She used darker magic than she ever had before." Or ever should again, she thought to herself.

"That would be it. Someone's got her."

It was too horrible a thought for Tara to contemplate. "We have to go and find her. I'll do a locator spell."

She went to get the necessary paraphernalia, trying to ignore the way Oz shied back when she passed. He was breathing heavily.

"Do you want some water, or…"

"A treat?" He smiled mirthlessly. "I'm a werewolf, not a dog."

"I just thought you might…be thirsty," she finished, weakly.

"No. But you know what? I think I'm gonna look around outside for her. You know, just in case we're wrong. How long will the spell take?"

"Not long, once I get it set up."

"How 'bout I come back in 15 minutes?"

"Okay."

Oz turned to leave without another word, looking as relived to be going as Tara was to see him go. It was always going to be hard to see your lover's ex, but why did this one have to present a mortal danger? In spite of herself, she was impressed, though. He'd controlled himself and even left the room when it looked like he might…

Willow was in trouble. The thought hit her mind like a handful of dust in her nose. Not gonna cry, not gonna cry, not gonna cry. Gonna find you. Strong like an Amazon, baby. Speaking of strength...she picked up the phone and dialed Buffy's number. No answer. She tried Mr. Giles. Nothing there, either. She left messages for both of them asking them to call and to tell Willow to do the same if they saw her. She thought about Xander and Anya, but she wasn't sure what they could do, and Xander made her tense. Who else? Spike? Certainly not. Even if she completely trusted him, which she didn't, he didn't have a phone, and she had no wish to be hanging around graveyards looking for him.

The spell was ready. She spoke the words that would bring her to Willow.

Outside, looking everywhere he could for Willow's familiar flash of red hair, Oz tried to push down the taste of blood that was filling his mouth. Control, he thought. Control. Remember what you've learned. Don't think about her touching…don't! Clamp it down, clamp it down, clamp it down! Working for the clampdown, the Clash sang in his head. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths.

The moon shone through the windows like a mocking, grinning grimace.

He was very, very hungry.

Tara's forehead wrinkled as she frowned. Something was wrong. All the spell would tell her was that Willow was somewhere in the woods. It should have led them directly to each other. But something was masking her, hiding Willow from Tara. She couldn't have that. She tried every chant she knew but nothing happened except that she was getting more tired and worried.

Oz was in the doorway again.

"Any luck?"

"Kind of. I know she's in the woods, but I can't tell where."

"I can find her."

She looked at him and he lightly sniffed the air.

"Oh…r-right."

"You coming?"

"Of course."

She got up and strode towards the door without a second thought or look back.

"Tara…you'd better take the gun."

She picked it up and for an awkward moment wasn't sure where she would carry it. Then an idea struck her and she grabbed a shoulder bag, dropping the gun into it. She ran to the bathroom and grabbed a first aid kit, too. It Willow were hurt (don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it) she needed to be ready. She pulled on a long blue coat as protection against the night air.

"Okay, let's go."

The werewolf and the witch headed out into the night, searching for the woman they both loved. Neither of them spoke. The silence was more than Tara could bear, especially since she wasn't sure if they weren't talking because Oz needed to concentrate, or so neither one of them would bring up that big, mostly unspoken, common interest they shared. Oz was leading her through the woods, stopping occasionally to get his bearings and sniff the air. For Tara's part she was keeping herself as attuned as she could, her senses searching everywhere for some sign of Willow.

Willow? Baby, can you hear me?

She knew that if Willow sensed her nearby she'd be broadcasting as far as she could, especially if she needed help. So every so often she would quiet her mind and send out a tentative feeler, a mental hand looking for Willow's to hold. But so far, it had been met with stony silence.

She never even considered letting herself think about what that could mean.