"Well ain't that just fucking great." Faith grimaced. "Guess B won't be much help gettin' us outta here before the cops and firemen show up. You got any ideas, T? With the bodies flyin' out the windows, we need to leave. Now."
Tara agreed with Faith. She didn't say that, however. Her attention was on Buffy and her rapidly shifting aura. "Faith…"
Before she could complete her warning, Buffy growled and threw herself at Faith. They went down in a tangle of arms and legs. Tara froze. What was she supposed to do now? The fight (although, it was more grunting and rolling) was garnering even more attention. Fingers pointed and a few people began to make their way closer. Magic was out. No one would miss the pyrotechnics if Tara tried anything arcane.
"Good God! What are they doing?" Mrs. Summers and Willow sprinted up. "Girls!" She took a hesitant step forward and then stopped. Buffy's hair-raising growl hadn't diminished and she appeared to be flailing both arms at Faith.
Faith was fending the blows off. She wasn't, Tara realized, fighting back. "B, for fuck's sake…" Missing a block, Faith's head snapped to the side. "OK. That's it. I'm tired a bein' nice, B."
"Faith! Don't hurt Buffy!" Willow bit her lip and bounced in place. She didn't seem to realize – or care – that Buffy was most definitely not the one in danger.
Ignoring the plea, Faith reared back and hit Buffy. To Tara, it looked like a killing blow. Faith grunted with the force of the swing, and there was a dull, meaty thud when the punch connected.
Buffy grunted as well, and her eyes widened. Slowly, with almost cartoonish sincerity, she blinked at Faith and mumbled, "Ow." The next punch knocked her sideways. This time, Buffy didn't protest. She simply slumped lifelessly to the grass.
It was as if the fire destroying the bar had suddenly sprung up under everyone's feet. Faith scrambled up and tossed Buffy's body over her shoulder. "Let's motor, gang. Even in Sunnydale the fire trucks show up." She jogged toward the Jeep and the rest of them hurried after her.
As Mrs. Summers drove carefully through the throng of bystanders, Tara's skin tingled. She looked up and scanned the crowd with more than just her eyes. There was a lot of power out there…somewhere. "W-Willow," she said urgently, "I n-need you to li-link with m-me again." Not bothering to explain why, Tara reached out a mental hand and waited impatiently for Willow to grasp it.
The shared energy helped Tara focus. Closing her physical eyes and leaning back against the seat of the Jeep, she thinned her awareness and pushed outward from her Center. It was tricky because the vehicle was moving. Tara continually adjusted her anchor points as she searched for the source of the magical signature. Finally, teeth gritted against the slippery feel of the trail, Tara found it.
Unfortunately, arcane stalking wasn't her forte. In her excitement, Tara's magic pulsed as she approached her heavily shielded prey – and he noticed. A blast of controlled power slammed into her mind, and Tara lost her connection with Willow. Crying out sharply, she sent energy into her own shields in time to deflect a second blow. The sizzling power wrapped around her, coating her wards and looking for a weakness. Tara held very still inside her protections and kept the shielding smooth by feeding in energy from her personal stores.
It worked, and eventually the malevolent magic drained away.
Gasping, Tara's eyes shot open. "Goddess." She moaned at the knifing pain in her head.
"Tara?" Willow peered at her, pale and concerned. "What happened? What were we trying to do? And who, or what, was that that I felt?"
"Save the questions, honey," Mrs. Summers interrupted. Tara wanted to hug her. She wasn't up to a barrage of questions at the moment. "Right now, I'm taking us all home. Once we get Buffy settled in," she glanced across the console at Buffy, lying in Faith's lap, "and cleaned up, we can all chip in with explanations."
Mrs. Summers was very good. Biting back a smile at the way Willow immediately turned to face the front and stopped talking, Tara bowed her head and started a short meditation exercise. Her awareness of the Jeep and its passengers faded. With each repetition of the mantra, Tara worked on relaxing the muscles and blood vessels in her neck, face, and head. She returned to herself only when the lack of motion announced they'd arrived at their destination.
It wasn't Willow's and Faith's apartment. Instead, the Jeep sat next to a small house, set back from the street and shaded by a deep porch and trees. "OK, girls. Inside. I know what the aftermath is like. I'll start in the kitchen." Mrs. Summers hopped to the ground. Like a general organizing her troops, she fired off directions. "Faith, get Buffy into the shower."
Faith scowled and appeared ready to protest.
"I don't want to hear it. Willow isn't strong enough to hold her." Mrs. Summers narrowed her eyes at Faith. "And if Buffy wakes up in the same mood she was in before…" The words trailed off, laden with meaning.
"Gotcha, Mrs. S." Still looking unhappy, Faith hauled Buffy out of the Jeep and resettled the unconscious form over her shoulder. "B gets a bath." She stalked up the walk to the front door.
Tara froze when Mrs. Summers' gaze fell on her. "Honey, I think you and I need to talk. You saw something at the bar, and I want the full story." She grimaced. "Unfortunately, what I know about magic wouldn't fill a thimble."
Her eyes shifted away, and Tara sagged. Was it a mother thing? Mrs. Summers didn't look anything like her own mother had. The look, though… Goddess. Feeling shaky from the encounter and the earlier magical expenditure, Tara started toward the house.
In the background, she heard Mrs. Summers issue her final edict. "Willow, honey, call Rupert as soon as we get inside. As much as I hate to admit it, I think we need his experience on this."
***
Warm. Wet. Buffy smiled and wiggled at the sensation. It felt good. Then she jerked erect. The fire! Eyes snapping open, she sniffed deeply.
"What the fuck are you doin', B? Hold still and close your eyes. I ain't listening to you whine 'cause you got soap in 'em." The voice was angry, and Buffy growled a warning. "Spell or not, stop with the growling. You're gettin' the Slayer all riled up, and you know how Red hates it when we get violent."
Frowning in confusion, Buffy stared at the other girl. Why did everyone keep making all the funny sounds? Where they supposed to mean something?
"Whatever." Even without understanding, Buffy took exception to that word.
Her growl rose in volume, and she shoved the other girl away from her. "Girl mean!" Buffy snapped. Ignoring the girl's shocked look and grunt of surprise, Buffy hopped out of the shower. She had to get out of here.
"B!" A foot landed on the floor behind her.
Buffy didn't wait to get captured. She found the handle on the door and ripped it open. With a rending sound, it came completely off the hinges. Uncaring, Buffy tossed the door to the side and ran into the hallway.
It was empty…and oddly familiar.
Pausing wasn't an option, however. Buffy could hear the other girl running after her. She continued her mad dash down the staircase in front of her.
A grunt escaped her at the bottom. There were more people here! Buffy's inner voice didn't panic, though. This woman… The voice liked this woman. Buffy slowed her paced. "Who you?" she asked.
That's when a body slammed into her from behind and two arms wrapped around her body. "Sorry, Mrs. S. B decided to get cute. It won't happen again."
The girl had found her. Buffy howled and fought the hold of her captor. "Off!" Planting her feet firmly on the ground, she shoved off the floor. The force of her push sent both of them backward to crash on the floor. Buffy grinned in satisfaction at the whoosh of air leaving the girl under her, and the moan of pain that followed. "Off!" she repeated before scrambling away.
"Oh for Heaven's sake," the older woman said. Her hands were on her hips, and somehow, Buffy knew that meant she'd done something wrong.
Buffy's shoulders slumped. Making this woman angry made her feel…sad. Tears leaked from her eyes. "Buffy bad," she mumbled. Simply saying the words made Buffy feel even worse. She took a step away from the woman and wrapped her arms around her body. "Buffy sorry."
The woman frowned, and her hands slipped off her hips. "Honey, don't…"
No. No matter how sorry she was, Buffy refused to let them catch her again. This woman and her looks hurt her. Pivoting on one foot, Buffy dashed away again. There was a door to her right, and that's where she headed. Maybe there was a way out. A way away from the mean girl and the hurtful woman.
She hit the door at full speed. It swung open, and Buffy never slowed as she ran through. There was not, however, a way out of the house on the other side. Instead, Buffy hit something. Someone, actually. For the second time in just a few minutes, Buffy fell to the floor.
***
Tara shrieked in surprise when Buffy hurtled through the kitchen door. The sound quickly mutated into a cry of pain when Buffy careened into her and they topped to the ground. Her head thunked onto the tiles, and, despite her small size, Buffy's body drove the air from Tara's lungs on impact.
Tiny black dots floated in front of Tara's eyes. "Uhhnnn," she choked out. "B-Buffy?"
A soft rumble answered her question.
Trying to focus her eyes, Tara peered up. It was definitely Buffy making the noise. At first, thanks to the blow to her head, Tara was only aware of the cold kitchen floor under her and Buffy straddling her waist.
Little by little, the dots faded. Willow, Faith, and Mrs. Summers crowded in the doorway. As her vision finally cleared completely, Tara registered two very surprised faces – and one very large smirk.
"Fuck, I wish X-man was here with that camera," Faith said. Her smirk grew impossibly bigger. "Can't ya' just see B's face when the spell wears off and we got this hangin' in the living room?"
Following Faith's line of sight, Tara suddenly wanted the dots back. "Oh, G-Goddess," she whimpered. Buffy was still straddling her, making the strange rumbling sound – and she was naked.