Please read the Disclaimer before continuing to remain in the site or reading the stories. These stories contain adult material with scenes of women loving women. Consider this story to have an R rating. If this is illegal in your state or you are underage, please go to a more appropriate site now.

Pairing: W/T... of course.

http://www.quiknet.com/~lcountry/unexpected01.html

By Lisa Countryman

© July 2002

CHAPTER FIVE

After six months of proper eating habits and another eight and a half months of pregnancy, the question of how large Willow’s belly could get was answered.

"I’m as big as a house," Willow said as she tried to roll over. She was stark naked, but she wasn’t worried about getting dressed any time soon. "As big as a house and trapped on my back like one of those turtles on the Discovery channel." She whimpered and turned her head to the side and grunted. "Natives are gonna make soup out of me while I lay here trapped on the beach." Her huge belly held her firmly in place in the center of the new king-sized bed.

"No more Discovery channel for you," Tara said as she came out of the bathroom. She was naked as well, and she had a tube of lotion in one hand. She squeezed some lotion into her palm and then tossed the tube onto the dresser. "Besides…" Tara said as she crawled onto the bed and straddled Willow’s bare legs. "If I found something this yummy on the beach, I think I’d have to at least take a little taste." She leaned over and gave Willow a quick kiss. She sat back up and rubbed the lotion on Willow’s huge belly.

"Are you saying you’d make soup outta’ me?" Willow rested her hands behind her head and enjoyed Tara’s loving attention.

"No…" Tara gave Willow a crooked, sexy grin. "But it would involve making a meal out of you." She massaged the lotion into Willow’s skin.

"Stretch marks and all?" Willow asked. She rested her hands over Tara’s, stilling them on her belly.

"I love every inch of you, Willow." Tara slid her hands down Willow’s sides where dozens of stretch marks now marred her lover’s porcelain skin. "They look like little tiger stripes." She waggled her eyebrows. "Kinda’ sexy." She growled and chomped her teeth. She finished applying the lotion and then shifted to one side and settled onto the bed next to Willow.

"Looks like a good start to naked mommy weekend," Willow said as she caressed Tara’s collarbone.

Tara nodded and tilted her head to one side as she stared at Willow’s stomach.

"Hey," Willow said with a smirk.

"Hmm?" Tara ran her hand over Willow’s belly. She pressed her palm against Willow’s tummy and smiled when the baby kicked.

Willow sighed and waited patiently as Tara continuing staring.

"Huh?" Tara looked up at Willow and blushed. "What?" she asked shyly. "You’re beautiful … and that’s our baby … and … and…" She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Okay, so … I’m a little obsessed." She giggled and snuggled half onto Willow’s chest.

"It’s sweet," Willow said as she held Tara’s hand to her breast. "And I seem to remember being a little obsessed when you were pregnant with Bri."

"It’s not my fault you’re irresistible." Tara kissed Willow’s neck. She shifted her weight and moved her kisses to Willow’s cheek, and then their lips met. Tara’s hand slowly slid down Willow’s chest and settled on the redhead’s belly.

"Obsessed." Willow laughed as she wrapped her arms around Tara.

*****

Brent stood at the edge of the path and waited patiently as Brianna knelt in front of the grayish green bush under the shade of an oak tree. Brianna was wearing jeans and a tee shirt as well as a tiny leather gardening apron.

Brianna leaned closer to the plant and then turned and grinned triumphantly. "Basil," she said proudly.

"Which kind?" Brent prompted.

Brianna furrowed her brow and then took a small herb knife from her apron. Her tiny hands moved slowly. She’d nicked herself before, and she didn’t want to do it again. She chose one leaf and then carefully cut it from the plant, next to the stem, so the plant wouldn’t be damaged. She closed her eyes and held the leaf to her chest. "Thank you," she whispered to the plant. She squeezed the leaf and lifted it to her nose, inhaling the aroma. A huge grin covered her face as she stood. "Lemon basil," Brianna said. She popped the leaf into her mouth and enjoyed the refreshing taste.

"Excellent." Brent rubbed Brianna’s back and guided her further down the path.

"That one was easy," Brianna said. She folded her herb knife closed with a snap and tucked it into her apron.

"I’ll choose a harder one," Brent promised. She wound her way further into the stand of trees and stopped under another oak. She looked up at a sphere of dense growth in the oak branches.

Brianna rolled her eyes. "Mistletoe," she said with a giggle.

"That wasn’t the test," Brent insisted. "I’m just resting." She smiled and leaned against the tree. She looked up at the mistletoe. "Uses?" she asked with a smirk.

"It’s poisonous," Brianna said thoughtfully.

"Very," Brent agreed. "Uses?" she prompted gently.

"For sore muscles," Brianna said slowly. She bit her lip and furrowed her brow. "As a tea?" she suggested.

"It can be used as a tea for aches and pains," Brent said. "Also ground into a powder." She sat at the base of the tree and waited for Brianna to sit next to her. "It’s highly toxic, and must only be used by someone who knows her arts well, and it should never be used unless there is no other choice."

Brianna nodded and scooted into Brent’s lap. "By someone like you and Emily, or mama?" Brianna asked.

"Emily certainly walks with the goddess, and your mama knows her herbs very well," Brent said proudly as she leaned against the oak. She guided Brianna against her chest and pointed high into the tree’s branches. "See how high the goddess puts the mistletoe?"

Brianna nodded.

"That’s to keep it out of little hands," Brent whispered.

The clever young redhead tilted her head as she studied the branches of the tall tree. She slowly turned toward Brent. "Then how do you get it down?" Brianna asked with a mischievous smile.

"Umm…" Brent hesitated. "Never mind," she said with a laugh.

Brianna giggled. "Maybe She wants to keep it out of your hands, too."

"Maybe She does." She hugged Brianna and sighed. "Do you know the story of the oak and her sister mistletoe?" Brent asked.

Brianna shook her head and wiggled excitedly.

"Well, then let’s sit under this beautiful oak and enjoy her shade, and I’ll tell you," Brent suggested. "The oak is sacred to Lady Brigit."

Brianna nodded and bit her lip excitedly. This was the way Brent began all of her tales. She’d find a tree or plant and conveniently take a rest near it, and then tell Brianna the plant’s history or some ancient tale revolving around it.

Brianna loved learning. She had Willow’s keen mind and ability to suck information up like a thirsty sponge, and she had Tara’s innate connection to nature. She was a natural gardener and loved ‘helping’ care for the sanctuary’s huge grounds. Often Brianna’s ‘helping’ consisted of following the gardeners around and asking dozens of questions. The gardeners happily answered each question, knowing that Brianna would put the information to good use as she grew older.

"The ancient Druids revered the oak and mistletoe," Brent began. "They’d wear white robes and collect the sacred mistletoe using a golden sickle."

Brianna turned and gave Brent a questioning look.

"A sickle is type of blade used to cut wheat and other grains," the elder explained. "I’ll show you a picture of one when we go back to my study."

Brianna settled back into place on Brent’s lap.

"Mistletoe can be used for aching muscles, and it can stop bleeding inside your tummy." Brent rubbed Brianna’s belly. "And it can be used as a tea to help with pains in your joints when you get old like me. And it helps with epilepsy. That’s a horrible disease that makes people fall down and shake."

Before Brianna could ask for a detailed description of epilepsy, she saw something else that caught her eye. "Grandpa!" She jumped to her feet and ran over and hugged his legs.

"Hello, Princess," Ira Rosenberg said as he wiped some pollen from his dark blue business suit.

Brigh stepped into view from behind him. The young guardian did not look happy. "Mister Rosenberg insisted on seeing Brianna as soon as he got here," she said as she moved alongside him. She smiled at Brent and shrugged as if to say, ‘I can’t really tell Lady Willow’s father no, can I?’

Ira looked around the forest nervously. "Is it safe to be out here?" he asked as he turned and looked at Brigh.

"The coyotes don’t come out until dark," Brigh assured him. "But the mountain lions usually scare them away."

"Or eat them," Brianna added with a giggle. She loved making jokes, and her sense of humor already had a wicked streak.

"I hope you’re kidding," Ira said. He ran his hand through Brianna’s hair. "Let’s get you back home and out of these filthy clothes," he suggested.

Brianna hesitated and then turned back to Brent.

"It’s all right," Brent said as she stood and slapped the dust from her own pants. "We’ll finish our lesson later." She went to Ira’s side. "I wasn’t expecting you until next week," she said politely. "I would have sent a car for you."

"Do we need an appointment to see our daughter and granddaughter?" he asked pointedly.

"Of course not," Brent said. "We just like to have everything perfect for your visits," she said smoothly. "Did Mrs. Rosenberg come with you, or is she coming up next week?" The elder sent out a silent prayer. ‘Please say next week,’ she pleaded in her mind. ‘Sweet Brigit, let it be next week.’

"Of course she came," Ira said as he led Brianna down the path toward the main grounds. "She’s Willow’s mother. Willow needs her here to get ready for the baby."

"Of course," Brent said with a sweet smile. ‘Thank you anyway. Perhaps next time Sheila can stay home, Lady Brigit?’ she silently asked her goddess. She glanced over at Brigh and rolled her eyes as Ira swatted a tree limb out of his way. "I’m sure La— I’m sure Willow will be thrilled."

Brigh cleared her throat and caught Brent’s gaze. Both doubted Willow was going to agree.

*****

Sensual moans were all Tara could manage. That is, until Willow’s talented mouth edged slightly to the left. "Oh, right there," Tara said. She rolled her head to one side and shivered as Willow moved under the blankets.

"Right here?" Willow asked from under the blankets. "Or right here?" She moved her lips slightly lower.

"There!" Tara was in heaven.

"I don’t know…" Willow came crawling out of the blankets like a groundhog at the end of February. "If I’m down there, I can’t do this." She kissed Tara as she moved her hand between the blonde’s legs.

"Up here’s good," Tara agreed. She tangled one hand in Willow’s hair and her other hand moved between their intertwined bodies and rubbed Willow’s belly. Now that her broken wrist was healed, she made sure to put both hands to good use.

"Obsessed," Willow said with a giggle. She shifted her weight so she wouldn’t smash her tummy.

"More kissing, less talking," Tara commanded. She pulled Willow closer and was just about to take that kiss when she heard a truly horrifying sound, a horrifying sound from the hellmouth of Sunnydale, but unfortunately, it wasn’t a murderous demon.

"Willow? Willow Rosenberg, where are you?" the hideous creature called out.

"Oh, please tell I am not hearing that," Willow said as her eyes popped open wide in horror.

"Oh, you’re hearing it," Tara said grouchily. She squirmed to cover herself.

"They’re not coming until next week," Willow whined. She carefully rolled off of Tara and sat facing the door.

"Tell her that," Tara said as she gripped the sheets to her chest.

"Willow?" The door burst open and Sheila Rosenberg waltzed into the bedroom. "Oh…" She raised an eyebrow and sighed. "Well, Willow, I can see why you’d need a nap," she told her daughter. "But why on earth are you sleeping in the middle of the day, Tara?" Her disdain was obvious. "Why would you possibly be tired?"

"Hello, mother," Willow said wearily.

"Sheila," Tara said as she tugged the sheets up to her neck. She was blushing bright red.

"I’d think you’d be up watching my granddaughter," Sheila said. "Instead of lazing away the day napping while strangers babysit her."

"Brent is not a stranger," Willow said. She scooted to the edge of the bed and looked her mother dead in the eyes. "And we weren’t napping." Willow climbed out of the bed and walked naked to the dresser. "We were making love."

"I don’t know why you insist on making off color jokes." Sheila turned her back on Willow. "I’ll wait in the living room until you girls finishing dressing after your naps." She slammed the door as she left.

Tara climbed from the bed stood behind the redhead and spooned her. "This should be fun." She kissed Willow neck. "Your mom seems very … eager. Guess she wants to help with the birth."

"I’d rather give birth on the hellmouth," Willow said. She turned and gave Tara a wry smirk.

"During an apocalypse," they said in unison.

A short while later, Ira carried Brianna into the house despite the young girl’s protests.

"Grandpa, no," Brianna said as she arched her back. "It’s mommy weekend," she explained.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" he asked.

Brent was close on his heels. "Willow and Tara spend one weekend a month alone," she explained. She walked past him and went to the living room and smiled politely at Sheila. "Mrs. Rosenberg, as always, it’s nice to see you. You look well."

"I’ll take Brianna now." Sheila went over to Ira’s side. "How’s my little angel?" She took Brianna and hugged her. "Grandma’s here, sweetheart. No more babysitters for you." She held Brianna at arm’s length. "What on earth are you wearing?" She scowled at Brianna’s outfit. "Let’s get you changed. We can’t have you dressed like a ragamuffin." She carried Brianna toward her bedroom.

"Thank you, we’ll be fine now," Ira said. "I’m sure you have other duties." He turned and walked away, dismissing Brent as if she were a servant.

"Yes, well, I have to wait for Tara to release me," Brent said. She gritted her teeth and then smiled. "I’m sure you understand, sir."

"Oh, yes, fine." He sat on the couch and put his feet onto the low coffee table. "Bring me a glass of tea, will you?" It was not a request.

"Dad, Brent is not a maid," Willow said as she came down the hall smoothing her wet hair. "I’ll get you a glass of tea." She waddled to Brent’s side and wrapped an arm around her. "I am so sorry," she whispered.

"Believe me, I am not the one who’s going to suffer," she whispered as she patted Willow’s rounded tummy. "Goddess help you, dear. They really do want to help."

Willow shuddered and walked with Brent as the elder made her escape.

"I hope your mother didn’t interrupt," Brent said as she walked down the hallway to the front door. She kept one arm around Willow’s waist while keeping the opposite hand firmly resting on Willow’s huge belly.

Willow cleared her throat.

"Oh, sweet Brigit." Brent shook her head and looked toward the master bedroom. "Where’s Tara?"

"Dressing after our shower," Willow said. "I really need to make this up to her. My poor Tara." She smirked. "Mom always did have the worst timing. I think Tara’s a little frustrated."

"She’ll live." Brent patted Willow’s back. "How are you? Any more backaches?"

"Nope." Willow smiled. "Textbook perfect pregnancy. Even Diana said she’s never seen an easier pregnancy. I’m a straight ‘A’ patient."

"Is that why Cook had to lock up the chocolate ice cream?" Brent asked sweetly.

"How much caffeine can there possibly be in a tiny bowl of ice cream?" Willow whined. "Tiny! Smaller than tiny, microscopic."

"I don’t know." Brent rubbed her chin as she pretended to consider the question. "Why don’t I ask Lady Tara?"

"No!" Willow shook her head. "There’s no reason to bother Tara."

"Bother me with what?" Tara asked as she came up behind Willow. "Did you need something, sweetie?" She took Willow’s hand.

"No, not me." Willow smiled and bit her lip.

"Oh," Tara said as she recognized her lover’s guilty expression. "One more week and you can have that ice cream, love."

Willow’s eyes lit up.

"What about the breastfeeding?" Brent asked helpfully. She almost snickered as she watched Willow’s eyes narrow.

"Oh, yeah." Tara frowned. "I forgot about that. Guess I’ll have to give up chocolate too."

"Thanks, Brent," Willow said grouchily. She turned to Tara and squeezed her hand. "Ready to face the in-laws?" Willow asked with a crooked grin.

"As long as you’re at my side." Tara took a deep breath and squared her shoulders as if she were facing a firing squad, a firing squad of angry demons with pointy crossbows, crossbows with flaming arrows, flaming poisoned arrows.

"Good luck." Brent made her escape.

"Coward," Tara whispered as the door closed. She clung to Willow’s hand as they went back to the living room.

"Mother, I thought you and daddy weren’t coming until next week," Willow said as she stopped in front of her favorite chair.

"You are having your first child," Sheila said. "Of course I’m here."

Willow’s eyes flashed with anger.

"Well, of course you have Brianna," Sheila amended. She ran her hand through her granddaughter’s bright red hair. "But this will be your first birth." She leaned toward Willow. "I still don’t understand why you asked Tara to carry Brianna," she said with a disappointed sigh.

Willow’s body tensed just as she started to sit.

"Honey, it doesn’t matter," Tara whispered as she guided Willow into the chair. She sighed, willing her own rapidly skyrocketing blood pressure to lower.

"It matters to me," Willow whispered crossly.

Willow’s father sighed and shook his head. "Anyway, your mother and I didn’t want to miss the birth," Ira said. He looked sadly at Brianna. "We missed our little princess’ arrival." He scowled at Willow. "It would have been nice to have known she was coming before she actually got here."

"Well, dad, that’s in the past." Willow rubbed the back of her neck. She felt a huge knot forming.

"Is your back hurting?" Tara was at her side instantly.

"No…" Willow gave Tara a pitiful look. "My neck."

"Let me help." She moved behind Willow and rubbed her neck.

"So, mom, dad, uh, what did you have planned?" Willow asked. She smiled and had to remind herself not to moan at Tara’s touch.

"Well, we’re here to help you get things ready for the baby," Sheila said. "She’ll need the nursery fully stocked and prepared."

"Megan’s room is ready," Brianna volunteered. "Aunt Anya helped paint and I got to pick out Megan’s toys." Her tiny chest puff with pride. "I’m a toy ex-pert. Aunt Anya said so."

"Everyone has been helping," Willow interjected quickly. She didn’t want Brianna to explain that they had to repaint the nursery after Anya painted a detailed border with dancing demons. Anya had assured Willow and Tara that the decorative border would keep any dark creatures from lingering in the room. "It’s ready for Megan," Willow said, cutting off her mother before she offered to decorate.

"Megan? You’re still set on that name?" Ira asked with a scowl. "Willow, what’s wrong with calling the baby Muriel? It would be such a lovely way to honor your nana Moriah."

Tara’s hands gripped Willow’s shoulders, but the blonde didn’t speak.

Willow reached up and rested one hand on top of Tara’s.

Willow’s mother pretended to fuss over his suggestion. "Now, Ira, I wouldn’t expect Willow to name her child after my mother," Sheila said with a serpentine smile. She looked directly at Willow. "Now, a middle name, that’s the traditional way to honor my mother, god rest her soul." She raised both hands contritely. "Not that I’d ever tell you what to do. God forbid you should follow tradition for once in your life." She stared at Tara. "I know how you hate being traditional."

"So, who wants something to drink?" Tara asked. She wanted out of the room as quickly as possible.

"Well, I am still waiting for my tea," Ira said. "Willow offered and then forgot to bring it."

"I’ll run get that. I’m thirsty too" Tara backed away from the chair and glanced at Willow’s belly. "I don’t want Willow doing any work." Her eyes drifted back to Ira. "I’m perfectly capable of getting tea, and there’s no way I’d let my pregnant wife wait on me."

"Can I help, mama?" Brianna asked. She could feel the tension in the room and she wanted out too. Plus, she loved helping Tara with any task.

"Of course, sweetie." Tara smiled warmly and took Brianna’s hand. "You can use that little tray from the tea set Emily gave you." She led the child out of the room, leaving Willow alone with her parents.

"Is it really wise to have Brianna getting so attached to a stranger?" Ira asked.

"And calling her mama?" Sheila was aghast. "She’s a nishtikeit!"

"Tara is Brianna’s mother," Willow said as her face turned red with rage. Nishtikeit was Yiddish for ‘nobody.’ "And Megan is Tara’s child too." She rested her hand on her belly. "Tara is not a stranger, and if you ever call her that again, I will…" She gripped her hands into fists and closed her eyes. She had almost threatened to keep her parents away from Brianna and the new baby, but she knew that would hurt the children. She wanted a sense of family for them, and since Tara’s family had disowned her, the children would never know that side of their lineage.

"Now, Willow, you shouldn’t be getting upset," Sheila cautioned. "It’s not good for the baby."

"You’re right, mother, it’s not." Willow opened her eyes and glared at her parents. "So I’d appreciate it if you’d be respectful when you are guests in Tara’s home."

Ira looked down at the carpet, but Sheila held Willow’s gaze.

"So, tell me, does Megan have the same father as Brianna?" Sheila asked.

"Our daughters are sisters," Willow said through clenched teeth. "Full sisters."

"Well, are we ever going to meet him?" Ira asked. "It’s our right to meet our grandchildren’s father."

"Stop calling him that," Willow said. She stood and stormed closer to her parents. She hated that she had to lie to them. She wanted to simply tell them that Tara was Brianna’s real mother and that the children had been conceived by magic, but she would not. No matter how satisfying the look on her mother’s face might be, Willow couldn’t risk that. The last time Willow and her mother had clashed over magic, Willow had nearly been burned at the stake.

"What should we call him?" Ira asked reasonably.

"If he’s good enough to father your children he’s good enough to—" Sheila began.

"Tara is Brianna’s mother." Willow rubbed her aching back. "If you insist on mentioning ‘him,’ you won’t be doing it in our home."

"God forbid I should want my granddaughters to have a stable home," Sheila said quietly. "They should have two parents."

"They have a stable home," Willow said angrily. "And they have two loving parents and anyone who is too blind to see that is a fool."

"Tea for everyone," Tara announced as she pushed the door open with her hips and backed into the room. She had a tray with four tall glasses and a smaller glass for Brianna.

"And sugar," Brianna said. She was carrying a small tray with spoons and a sugar bowl. She carefully placed it on the coffee table with unsteady hands and then smiled at Willow. "Herbal tea, mommy." She folded her arms over her chest and gave Willow a knowing look. "No caffeine." She looked just like Tara when the blonde was insistent.

"Heavens no," Willow agreed with a huge grin. She lifted Brianna onto her hip and kissed her daughter’s cheek.

Tara mixed a touch of sugar in Willow’s tea, just the way the redhead liked it, and then handed it to her.

"Thanks," Willow said happily. She looked over at her parents and sighed. "So, how was your trip?" She sat in her favorite chair and handed Brianna a glass of tea as the young child sat quietly on her lap.

"Awful," Sheila said disgustedly.

Tara sat on the arm of Willow’s chair and rested her hand on the back of Willow’s neck. She gently stroked the nap of Willow’s neck to soothe her as Sheila prepared to go into a full-blown rant.

Sheila leaned into her chair and took a deep breath. "Traffic never used to be this bad, I can tell you." She took another deep breath and began what was certain to be a long explanation.

*****

"What did you have planned for dinner?" Sheila asked as she came up behind Willow.

"We’re gonna’ barbecue," Willow said. She looked up from the lettuce she was chopping. "We weren’t really planning to cook tonight, but we had everything in the fridge for this." She shrugged. She didn’t add that she and Tara often spent their evenings in bed during naked mommy weekend.

"Mama’s gonna make ribs," Brianna added excitedly. "I get to help."

"Everyone loves Tara’s ribs. She makes the sauce from scratch and they smell almost as good as they taste." Willow tossed the lettuce into a bowl. "Half the sanctuary begs for an invitation when she’s grilling them."

"Wouldn’t you rather live somewhere with more privacy?" Sheila asked.

"We’re very happy here, mom," Willow assured her mother.

"Okay, the pork ribs are on," Tara said as she came in from the patio.

"Would those be the kosher pork ribs?" Sheila asked. She raised both eyebrows.

"Pork can’t be kosher," Brianna said logically. She went to Willow’s side and hugged her leg.

"I’d never cook pork for you," Tara said calmly. "I have skinless chicken breasts for you and Mister Rosenberg."

"And for Willow and Brianna?" Sheila asked.

"Mom, we eat pork." Willow took a deep breath and sighed as she ran her hand through Brianna’s hair. "You know I haven’t been practicing for years."

"I would have thought you’d teach my granddaughter our traditions," Sheila said. She shook her head and gave Willow a disappointed glare.

"We have," Tara interrupted. "Willow is teaching Bri all about her Jewish heritage."

Brianna nodded and smiled. "And about Chanukah and the miracle of the oil."

"While feeding her pork ribs?" Sheila asked pointedly.

"No food is unclean," Brianna said calmly. She felt Willow cringe. "But some people have different ideas, and we respect that," Brianna added sagely.

"How progressive," Sheila said with a catty smile.

Willow let out a frustrated growl and rubbed her lower back. It had been aching since her parents had arrived.

"Will, honey, you need to sit down." Tara moved behind Willow and rubbed her back. "Come on, you can sit with me on the patio."

"And watch you cook the kosher pork ribs?" Willow asked with a grin.

"Yeah," Tara said with a smile.

"Mommy knows pork can’t be kosher," Brianna whispered to Sheila. "She’s joking."

Sheila smiled at Brianna, a real smile. "I know." She leaned down and kissed her granddaughter. "So, tell me what you know about Chanukah."

Willow tugged Tara outside, leaving Brianna to charm Sheila. "Cold, hard, uncomfortable brick stairs, and no sign of my mother," she said with a smirk. "Heaven." She sat on the steps a few feet away from the barbeque.

"Well, would ya’ look at that," Tara said as she turned the ribs over. "Genuine kosher ribs." She hung the tongs next to the grill and then stopped in front of Willow. "I’m sorry. I should have realized this wouldn’t be the best choice."

"Brianna’s favorite meal is always a good choice." Willow patted the step below her. "Sit. You’ll feel better." She spread her legs to make room for her lover.

Tara dipped her head and a crooked grin blossomed on her full lips. She moved past Willow and sat directly behind the redhead. She draped her long legs along each side of Willow, resting her feet on the stairs. "Hmm, this is better." She wrapped her arms around Willow and cradled her belly.

"Much," Willow agreed.

Brianna explained the story of Chanukah to Sheila, and the older woman was impressed. She was thrilled that her granddaughter understood at least part of her heritage, even if she did eat pork. Brianna was actually able to use a few words of Hebrew, and Ira was near bursting with pride.

"Willow’s been teaching her well," Ira said proudly.

Sheila nodded in agreement. "She must have been practicing. Willow’s Hebrew always was a little off, but my little darling Brianna has perfect pronunciation."

"Mama taught me," Brianna explained. "She’s teaching me Hebrew, Yiddish, and Latin."

Ira’s dark eyebrow rose almost to his hairline.

"Mama’s a transmater." Brianna beamed with pride. "She can read anything."

Brent walked into the kitchen and smiled. "Tara is a world renowned translator," she clarified. "She reads the original tales to Brianna from the ancient Hebrew." She saw that Ira was especially interested. "She can translate as she reads. It’s quite a talent."

"And she reads the tales to Brianna?" Ira asked.

"Tara wants Brianna to understand her heritage." Brent nodded toward the back door. "Are they in the pool? I need to talk to Tara." In truth, she wanted to make sure the Rosenbergs weren’t giving Tara a hard time, and if the elder had to stand guard at Tara’s side, she would.

"Mama’s making ribs," Brianna said excitedly.

"Really?" Brent smiled and could feel her mouth water. Tara’s ribs were well known at the sanctuary. Every time the blonde witch cooked them, there were dozens of volunteers to help around the house or to sit by the pool with Brianna.

"We were just going out to check on them," Ira said. He lifted Brianna to one hip and went outside. He paused and shook his head when he saw Ceri and Brigh sitting at the far end of the patio. "Are they always here?" he muttered to Sheila.

"The pool’s uncovered," Brianna explained.

"Yes…" he drew the word out, not quite understanding the connection between the two things.

Brent interrupted. "When the Plexiglas cover is retracted, someone always guards the water," she said. She saw Sheila’s shocked expression. "Brianna is still learning to swim, and though she knows not to go near the pool unattended, it’s better to be safe than risk Brianna." She moved past Sheila and went to the barbecue area where Willow and Tara were still sitting on the brick steps.

"I don’t understand these people," Ira said as he carried Brianna to the edge of the patio and looked past the green, lush valley to the sea.

"See the ships?" Brianna asked. She pointed excitedly at a few specks on the horizon. "Those are cargo ships. They look tiny, but they’re not."

"Why yes, they do look tiny. Are you sure they’re not toys?" He smiled and patted Brianna’s leg. His dark mood warmed as he and Brianna began discussing what the sailors might be hauling.

Brent cleared her throat and stopped in front of Willow and Tara.

"I’m sorry your day was interrupted," Willow said contritely.

"I could say the same for the two of you." Brent winked playfully. "Everything okay?"

Tara nodded and climbed out from behind Willow. She went to Brent’s side. "Are you sure it’s okay?" She knew Brent arranged her time with Brianna carefully. Mommy weekend was not just a special time for Willow and Tara. Brianna spent those weekends with Brent, and they both loved the special time. Usually the elder had fun events planned to share with Brianna based on the cycle of the planets.

"It’s fine," Brent said with a sad smile.

"Bri can still stay with you," Tara suggested.

"Nonsense," Brent said with a wave of her hand. "She rarely sees her grandparents."

"Well, they are staying until next week," Willow said as she watched her parents with Brianna.

"What did you have planned for her?" Tara asked as she flipped the slow cooking ribs. She moved to a second grill and used a separate utensil to flip the marinated chicken breasts.

"What makes you think I had anything special planned?" Brent rested a hand on Tara’s shoulder.

"Because I know you." Tara tilted her head to one side and raised an eyebrow, challenging the elder to contradict her.

"Fine," Brent said with a sigh. "I was going to get her up at an ungodly hour to watch the meteor showers."

"Oh, I forgot that was this week," Willow said excitedly. She tried to get up, but her center of gravity was too low and she grunted without successfully lifting her butt off the brick step.

Tara was at Willow’s side before she could make a second attempt. She took both of her lover’s hands and easily helped Willow stand. "Did you want to watch them?" Tara asked with a knowing smile.

Brent moved closer. "You could put Miss Brianna down early and then wake her tonight," she suggested. "Perhaps have hot cocoa out on the lawn and make an adventure of it?"

"Oh, Brent," Tara said sadly. "You should watch them with her. It’s obvious you had plans."

"She’d rather watch them with you," Brent assured Tara. She reached out and tucked Tara’s bangs behind her ears. "That child thinks you hung the moon."

"I did," Tara said seriously. "In a past life."

"That wouldn’t surprise me in the least, My Lady," Brent whispered. It was a title that no longer actually applied. The Imbolc guard called her Lady Tara, except for Brent. She used the formal Imbolc designation as a term of endearment, and the expression never failed to touch Tara’s heart.

Tara blushed and looked down at the ground.

"Brent thinks you hung the moon, too," Willow said as she hugged Tara from behind.

"Then that makes three of us," Brent told Willow.

Willow nodded and kissed Tara’s neck. "Yep."

"You wanna’ watch the stars tonight, darling?" Tara turned and caressed Willow’s cheek. "I could bring out some sleeping bags and an air mattress so you’ll be comfortable."

"Looks like Tara’s pretty fond of you, too," Brent pointed out.

"Lucky me," Willow said with a goofy grin.

Sheila and Ira wandered over.

"I hope you didn’t let the pork touch our chicken," Sheila said.

"Nope," Tara said. She nodded at the smaller grill. "We keep that grill kosher."

"Oh…" Sheila sighed and shook her head. She noticed the separate utensils and dishes. "I had no idea," she said contritely. "You’ve taken great care to teach Brianna our traditions. Thank you."

Willow’s eyes almost bulged out of her head.

"It’s very sweet that you take such good care of our granddaughter," Ira added.

"I want my daughter to understand everything about Willow’s heritage," Tara explained gently. There was no reproach in her tone, though she made a point of staking claim to her child.

"You read Hebrew?" Ira asked.

"Umm hmm." Tara nodded.

"Willow never learned," Ira said. "I hope you’ll teach Brianna."

"Willow manages," Tara said with a smirk. "But yes, I will teach Brianna."

Ira nodded, though his expression made it clear that he doubted Willow actually could read Hebrew.

"You know, I’m translating something that you might like to take a look at," Tara told Ira. "Are you familiar with the Rosetta stone?"

"The stone with a bill of sale in three languages. It allowed us to translate Egyptian hieroglyphics," he said as he nodded. "You have a copy of it?"

"No, but I’ve been working on something similar." Tara took him by the arm. "It’s a comparative listing of creation and death myths," she explained. "The Old Testament genesis tales are written in ancient Sanskrit. There’s also a Sumerian creation myth as well as their myth of the underworld. Both are in cuneform. It also has the Greek tales of Hades and his underworld as well as Cronos and the creation of the world written in ancient Greek."

"All together?" Ira asked. He considered himself something of a scholar of Hebrew history, but he’d never heard of any document listing so many religious texts together, and certainly not in different languages.

"One theory is that it’s a comparative anthology," Tara explained as she led him to her study. She didn’t add that her own research suggested that the text was a listing in three languages of a demon who had tried to bring about the apocalypse. She didn’t think Ira was ready for that revelation. She paused at the door to her study and put a six-digit code into the keypad next to the heavy steel door. A green light came on and she opened the door. A muted hiss greeted her as she opened the tightly sealed door to the climate controlled room.

"Why do you need such a strong door?" Ira asked as he followed her inside. He noticed the temperature was warmer and the air drier.

"Well, I have faith that no one can get to the house, but I have to secure the documents for insurance purposes. The temperature and humidity are controlled to protect the documents." Tara went to a large glass table and turned on a light. She motioned him closer and pointed to a worn parchment scroll that was pressed flat under the glass. "This is the Sanskrit here," she pointed to a section with huge broken pieces missing. The faded ink was barely readable in places.

"You can read this?" he asked.

"Yep." She grabbed a hand held scanner and ran it over a section and the text appeared on a computer screen on the desk a few feet away. "I scan it in so it’s easier to see, and then I translate it. After that, I have to try to piece together what’s missing." She hit a few keys and moved over the text with a different scanner. The computer showed an infrared scan. "See?" she smiled. "This picks up about 60 percent of the faded ink."

"And you understand all these languages?" Ira stared at the document. It was huge, two feet across and three feet long.

"Want me to read it to you?" she offered with a sweet smile.

"Would you?" he asked with childlike wonder.

"Sure." She pulled him closer.

"This is history," he whispered reverently.

Tara bit her lip and made a discussion. She grabbed a pair of cotton gloves from the counter. "Wanna’ touch it?" she asked impishly.

"I don’t know," he said nervously.

"How many people can say they touched a copy of the Old Testament from 2,000 years ago?" She waggled her eyebrows and blessed him with her crooked grin. "It was discovered in a series of catacombs under the hidden city of Petra. They predate the city." What she didn’t tell him was that Petra had been abandoned in the seventh century after a hellmouth opened under it, or that one of the previous Imbolc mages had died closing it.

"I couldn’t," he said shakily. "You’re an expert. I wouldn’t want to damage it."

"Well, they trusted me with it, and I offered." She bit her lip and waved the gloves at him. "You won’t hurt them." She shook her head and sighed. "Last chance?" She extended the cotton gloves.

He smiled and nodded. "If you’re sure it’s all right."

"Of course it is. You’re family." Tara handed him the gloves and began giving him the history of each tale.

*****

Sheila glared at Ira when he came into the living room from taking a shower. She was not pleased with her husband, and she was making her feelings quite clear.

"I’m not sure we should do this," Ira said as she sat next to his wife.

"What, you talk with the girl for one evening and suddenly you change your mind?" Sheila said angrily.

"This was never about Tara," Ira reminded his wife. "But yes, after spending some time with her, I can see that she’s a very sweet young woman."

"We knew that already. She’s very good with Brianna and she’s as sweet as can be, but that isn’t the point," Sheila said. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "This is about family, Ira, blood. We want Brianna and the new baby to be protected. What if something happens to Willow? God forbid."

"Tara would never keep us from the children." He shook his head. "She’s the one teaching Brianna her Jewish culture."

"Which Willow should be doing," Sheila pointed out. "A stranger is teaching our granddaughter about her faith."

"Tell me, if Willow had adopted Brianna instead of being her biological mother, would you love that precious girl any less?" Ira asked.

"Of course not, but that isn’t the same thing," Sheila insisted.

"Why not?" he prompted.

"Because Brianna has a father," Sheila said. "Tell me, can you imagine Willow choosing a father for her child without taking a great deal of time to pick the right man? A good man? A man we’d be proud to call son-in-law?"

"He’s Tara’s cousin," Ira said, quoting the story he’d always heard from Willow.

"Well, Brianna deserves two parents," Sheila insisted.

"Could a father love Brianna any more than Tara?" Ira asked. He smiled remembering his time with Tara in her office. "Brianna interrupted three times while we were looking at those ancient scrolls, and each time, Tara was patient and loving. She even read the scrolls to Brianna and then made a photocopy of one section so Brianna could pretend to work on it in her room."

Sheila smiled despite her reservations. "I saw her ‘translating’ it," she said proudly. "She was marking the copy with her crayons. She was so intense. I asked her what she was doing and she told me she was taking notes."

"Brianna adores Tara," Ira said with a smile. "Did you see her helping with the Barbecue?"

"Pork ribs," Sheila snapped.

"Did you see her telling Tara to check the coals and add more hickory chips?" He chuckled. "She tasted the sauce and then offered to go pick more garlic. That child mimics everything Tara does."

"But Tara isn’t family," Sheila said again.

"Maybe that isn’t the most important thing," Ira said quietly.

"You couldn’t have said that before we saw the attorney at 400 dollars an hour?" Sheila asked.

"Well, we had to see the best," he reminded her. He scowled and then bit his lip, looking very much like Willow when she was confused. "Do we have the right to do this?"

"What would it hurt?" Sheila asked. "We’ll get Willow to sign the papers, and god willing, we’ll never need them."

"We’ll sleep on it," he said with a nod.

"All I’m saying is it couldn’t hurt," she repeated as she raised her hands in the air. "What could it hurt?"

"Sleep on it?" he asked.

"All right, we’ll sleep on it." She sighed. "While my pregnant daughter and our granddaughter are sleeping outside in the icy fog."

"It’s summer." Ira smiled and looked out the patio window. "And the fog won’t roll in for hours."

"Still, the fog will come in and Brianna’s lungs will get full of moisture." She wrung her hands together. "She could get pneumonia. And Willow? God knows what could happen to the baby. If Tara’s so concerned, why is she risking my grandbaby’s health?"

"They’ll be fine," Ira assured his wife. He smiled. He’d never seen Brianna as excited as she was at the prospect of sleeping outside on the lawn with her two mothers. He froze and rubbed his jaw. He’d never thought of them that way, her two mothers, but Brianna did. He wondered if he had any right to tell her differently.

"We’ll just make sure our granddaughters are protected," Sheila repeated. "Besides, the law is on our side. Tara has no claim on those children." She let out a sigh. The matter was closed.

"Yes, dear." Ira knew when his wife’s mind was made up there was nothing he could say to change it. Sheila would use the law like a hammer to pound circumstances into shape until she got her way, no matter who it hurt.

End chapter five

Love Tara? Hate what they did to her and Willow on Buffy? Let the ME, UPN and Fox know how you feel. Please take a few minutes to send an email and let the people at Buffy the Vampire Slayer how you feel. Write every week if you feel like it. They need to know we still miss Tara and want her back. I would consider it a personal favor. Thanks!