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.

Please do not archive, link or reproduce without Author's Written Permission

Disclaimer: I don't own any Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters. No copyright infringement is intended. Original characters are mine.

Pairing: W/T... of course.

Angst Rating: Some angst, less than most of my stories.

Rating: PG 13 for adult themes and W/T goodness.

This is a sequel to the Willow and Tara novel, Unexpected Consequences. If you haven’t read that first, you will be quite lost. It can be accessed at

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

Unexpected Consequences: Milestones

By Lisa Countryman

© July 2002

CHAPTER NINE

Sheila Rosenberg was not a happy woman, but she begrudgingly allowed Bre and Brent to escort her to Willow’s hospital room. She was livid that she’d been kept from her daughter, and even angrier that she’d been held captive in one of the guesthouses. Unlike the Imbolc house, the guest cottage didn’t have a pool or a walk-in tub where she could soak.

Ira remained stoically silent on the walk to the infirmary. He was going over every possible explanation that might make sense of all that had happened. He knew his wife had acted impulsively when she tried to take Brianna from the sanctuary, but he couldn’t figure out why Ceri and the others had reacted with physical force. He was even more confused as to why the sanctuary was considered an embassy. He was quickly coming to understand that there was much more going on than either he or his wife knew.

"Let go of me," Sheila demanded as she yanked her arm out of Brent’s grasp.

Brent’s hand shot out and snatched Sheila’s arm again. "Mrs. Rosenberg, we have allowed you to leave the guest house, per Willow’s request, but you will not have free rein of this sanctuary."

"You’ll be hearing from my lawyer," Sheila said angrily.

"Perhaps you should be thanking us for not charging you with attempted kidnapping," Brent pointed out with a sweet smile.

"Brianna is my granddaughter," Sheila said bitterly. "I can take her wherever I want to."

"The law would not agree," Bre said reasonably. She adored Brianna, and as Dawn’s best friend, she got to spend more time with the future mantle of Brigit than many of the Imbolc guard. "The law says you should be in jail." She wanted to add, ‘you bitch,’ but she didn’t.

"Yes, well the law won’t have any say in this. Just wait until Willow hears what you’ve done," Sheila retorted. "I’ll see to it that Tara never sees my granddaughter again. Just because she carried Brianna doesn’t make her the mother. It’s called a surrogate for a reason. She’s nothing more to Brianna than a stranger on the street." Sheila had assumed that Tara was behind her imprisonment.

"You might want to treat Tara with a little more respect," Brent suggested. "Considering that she’s the one who convinced Willow not to press kidnapping charges against you."

"Willow would never do that," Sheila said.

"Perhaps you should calm down," Ira said as he took his wife’s hand. "There’s obviously more going on here than we understand."

"Hmpt." Sheila rolled her eyes but she did remain silent as they went to the infirmary. As soon as Sheila entered Willow’s hospital room, she rushed to the side of her daughter’s bed. "Willow, you won’t believe what these people—"

"Shut up, mother," Willow said, cutting off the older woman.

"Willow, you shouldn’t—"

"I said shut up." Willow’s eyes were hard and cold.

Sheila pointed toward Willow’s soul mate. "But Tara had these people—"

"Tara is the only one keeping you out of jail," Willow interrupted. "Now, shut up."

Sheila stared at Willow, unable to believe that her daughter would speak to her in such a manner.

Tara edged closer to Willow on the other side of the bed. "Honey, you promised me you’d stay calm." She caressed the back of Willow’s hand.

"This is as calm as I get," Willow said. Her voice was like ice, yet her eyes burned with rage. "How dare you…" Willow looked at her mother. "How dare you come to our home and try to steal my child, our child." She squeezed Tara’s hand.

"I was not stealing my grandchild," Sheila said primly. "I just thought she should be with family until I was certain you were going to be okay."

"And if I hadn’t been?" Willow asked. She had a pounding headache, and the only reason she could keep her eyes open was because of the anger fueling gallons of adrenaline in her veins.

Willow’s mother looked at Tara and then back to Willow. "Then I would have seen to it that Brianna stayed with family, and Megan too," Sheila said as she straightened her back and tugged her blouse to smooth the wrinkles in the fabric. She hated to even think of losing Willow, but she wouldn’t have her grandchildren abandoned to live with strangers.

"I suppose your lawyers would have seen to that?" Willow directed this question at her father who was remaining oddly quiet.

"We did have papers drawn up," Ira said hesitantly. "But I decided it probably wasn’t the best thing."

"Yes," Sheila interrupted. "Which is exactly why I knew something had to be done." Her irritation was obvious. "I had to look out for my grandchildren."

"And that something was stealing our daughter?" Willow asked sarcastically.

Sheila sighed. "Willow, god forbid something had happened to you, this woman would not have—"

"Would not have kept you away from your grandchildren," Tara interrupted wearily. "I would never do that to Brianna or Megan. Brianna loves you, and I had hoped Megan would have the chance to as well."

"Which is why they belong with us. See?" Sheila said as she pointed at Tara. "Even she understands."

"No," Tara said sadly. "I could never understand why you think keeping a child from her mother would be a good thing."

Sheila rolled her eyes. "I know you care for my granddaughter," she said in a patronizing tone. "Yes, you ‘carried’ her, but Willow is her mother, her blood. Do you honestly think she’d be better off with a stranger, a shikseh no less, than with her grandparents?" The fact that Tara wasn’t Jewish was yet another mark against her in Sheila’s eyes.

"Okay, ya’ know what, mother?" Willow said heatedly. "I think it’s time you had a little news flash." She tried to sit up, but winced when the stitches across her belly tightened.

Tara gently pressed a hand over Willow’s belly. "Honey, you promised you wouldn’t upset yourself." She was concerned. She could see the pain in Willow’s eyes and she knew her wife was exhausted.

Willow put a hand over Tara’s. "I’m not upsetting myself. Having my child kidnapped is upsetting me. Having my wife treated like dirt is upsetting me." She let out a frustrated growl as she reached over and pushed the button to tilt her bed. She couldn’t have a proper tirade while she was flat on her back. As the bed lurched slowly upward with a muted hum Willow glared at her mother.

Sheila sighed. She wanted the best for the children, and her disappointment with Willow was obvious.

"You keep saying that Tara is not family. Well, you’re wrong, mother. She is family. She is their mother." Willow gripped Tara’s hand. "I don’t mean metaphorically, and I don’t mean in some lesbian fantasy world. Genetically, Tara is the mother of my children." Willow was nervous. ‘Well, I said it,’ she thought. ‘Now I just have to keep mom away from matches so she can’t burn me at the stake.’

Sheila looked like the fan belt that spun the wheels inside her brain had just slipped off its track. "Huh?" she asked astutely.

Ira wasn’t buying it. "Are you telling us that Tara is their mother and you got some donor who happened to look just like you?" he asked. "With your red hair and features? I don’t think so."

Sheila furrowed her brow as her confusion continued to grow.

"No, I’m not," Willow said. "Tara and I are both their mothers."

"We can provide DNA evidence if you like," Brent offered with a smile.

"You…" Sheila pointed at Brent. "You people. You people have done something unnatural at this … this ‘women’s community’ of yours. You did something, some diabolical experiments. You managed to … dear god, what have you done?"

Willow smirked as she realized her mother was assuming they had manipulated nature through science, not magic. That was fine with Willow. "Yes, mother. We’ve managed to do the impossible here. Of course, what do you expect? We’re a community of women not wanting to have men in our lives."

"Willow, how could you risk this? You tampered with Brianna’s genetics?" Ira asked. "Is it safe? Is Brianna okay? What about little Megan? Is she healthy? Have you tested them?"

"What have you done?" Sheila asked as horrifying visions of cloning experiments gone wrong filled her mind. She was a woman of the world and she knew about these things. She’d seen the X-files once or twice. She didn’t want Brianna or Megan ending up in some government experiment.

"It’s a safe process," Brent said. She caught on to the Rosenbergs’ assumptions, and like Willow, she was ready to let them continue their erroneous beliefs. "Doctor White and her partner had a child with this technique long before Willow and Tara had Brianna. None of the children from this technique have had any side effects."

"Why … why didn’t you tell us?" Ira asked. "This is huge news. The world should know about this."

"That’s exactly why we didn’t say anything to you," Tara said. Her voice was calm and steady. "I won’t have my children treated like freaks."

Ira stared at Tara. His expression was befuddled, a mixture of confusion and a bit of awe. "And you allowed us to go on thinking you weren’t their mother? Why?"

"Because of the reaction you’re having right now." Tara’s voice remained steady. "These are your grandchildren. You should love them regardless of how they were conceived. I won’t keep you away from them, but I won’t have you look at them the way she’s looking at Willow right now." Tara nodded at Sheila.

Sheila was aghast. She was looking at Willow as if the redhead were some kind of monster. "All your science, all those classes," Sheila said. "And this is what you’ve done with it? Manipulate nature?"

"Would you rather I never had Megan?" Willow challenged. "Never had Brianna?"

"Of course not," Sheila said, clearly offended. "I love those children. You may have kept me from seeing Megan so far, but she is still my granddaughter. Even if you never let me see her."

Willow let out a long, frustrated sigh. She closed her eyes and relaxed into her pillows. "Mother, we won’t keep you from seeing Megan or Brianna," she said quietly, without opening her eyes. "We just have to clear up a few things first." She looked up and Tara and love filled her heart.

"You’re really their mother?" Sheila stared at Tara.

The blonde witch nodded.

"And you let me say all of those hurtful things to you?" Sheila asked. She was going over every time she had ever suggested that Willow leave Tara to be with Brianna’s father. "Didn’t it hurt you?" She suddenly realized the depth of her transgressions.

Tara looked into Sheila’s eyes. A flash of understanding flashed between them. "Mothers gladly accept pain if it will protect their children," Tara explained.

"Can we see Megan?" Ira asked. He hadn’t seen the infant since the day she was born. He had been confined along with Sheila at the guesthouse.

"Willow?" Brent asked.

The redhead nodded and then smiled at her father. "She’s already grown," she said with a proud smirk.

Brent quietly left the room.

"I guess now I know why she has your eyes," Ira said as he looked over at Tara.

"They really are both your children? Genetically?" Sheila asked again, still a bit shocked.

"Yes, mother." Willow rolled her eyes.

"Sheila," Ira said tolerantly. "Look at Tara and then try to tell me you don’t see the resemblance to Brianna."

Sheila nodded her head as she continued staring at Tara. Brianna wasn’t in the room, but Sheila could see bits of her granddaughter in Tara’s features. She had always thought it was because Tara’s cousin was the father. Suddenly her expression changed and Sheila looked absolutely mortified. "Oh, my god! You two aren’t married!" she said as if suddenly realizing it.

"Mother, in the eyes of our religion, Tara and I are married." Willow looked up at Tara and smiled proudly.

"Well, yes, that Wicca of yours," Sheila said the word Wicca as if it were some little fantasy game Willow played, not really giving it much heed.

"No, mother. Our religion. Yours and mine, the religion I was born into, Judaism." Willow lifted Tara’s hand to her lips and kissed the blonde’s fingers.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Sheila had been thoroughly confused in the previous few minutes, and it was only getting worse.

"Rabbi Goldman married Tara and I." Willow smiled proudly. She let out a sigh of relief, thinking her mother would be thrilled.

"What?" Sheila screamed, utterly horrified. "When?" she demanded.

"Before Brianna was conceived," Tara said shyly. "We’re wed in the eyes of Wicca over ten years ago, but before we had Brianna, we wanted to have a Jewish wedding too." She shrugged as she smiled at Willow. "She wanted to be traditional-girl, and I just can’t tell her no … so we got married right before we conceived Bri."

"That was more than five years ago! Rabbi Goldman performed the ceremony?" Sheila demanded. "Our rabbi?"

Willow nodded, though she didn’t understand why the veins in her mother’s neck were bulging dangerously.

"And you didn’t invite us?" Sheila asked, completely mortified. "Rabbi Goldman, our family Rabbi? He did the ceremony and you didn’t invite your own parents!"

Willow now understood her mother’s mood. Willow had finally had a proper Jewish wedding, and she had not invited her own mother. "I … we … uh…" She looked to Tara for rescue.

"We didn’t think you’d want to come," Tara said honestly.

"What must Rabbi Goldman think of us?" Sheila spun toward Ira. "Every time we’ve see him … with him knowing that our daughter was married and that we weren’t even invited. That in the eyes Hebrew law, Tara is our daughter-in-law and we didn’t even know it. Our own daughter couldn’t be bothered to tell us. Oui vey! What must he think of us?"

Ira couldn’t help but smirk at his wife’s sudden change of heart. Only minutes before she had been insisting that Tara wasn’t family, and now she was irate that she hadn’t been invited to the wedding.

"And speaking of law…" Sheila said as she suddenly remembered her other chief complaint. "How dare these, these ‘friends of yours’ keep us captive. These crazy women have swords, swords! And they tried to tell us that we aren’t even on US soil."

"You’re not," Tara said simply.

"Wh—" Sheila looked to Ira.

"What exactly does that mean?" Ira asked. "And why were these people so protective of Brianna?"

Brent chose that moment to come back into the room. She was carrying Megan and had Brianna at her side. Brent’s eyes were full of pride, even though she was carefully watching Willow’s parents.

Brianna was at the elder’s side, but the little girl looked almost timid. She was scared her grandmother would hate her, but she was even more terrified that Sheila would try to take her again. She had both hands snaked around Brent’s leg, which slightly impeded the older woman’s progress. Brianna was stuck to her like a scallop on a rock, and Brent had to drag Brianna with each step.

Brianna’s anxiety didn’t last long. At heart, the young child was destined to protect the innocent. It was an innate instinct, and as soon as that instinct was tested, she would react.

"Let me see my little Megan," Sheila said as she rushed toward Brent. She wanted the baby. "Give her to me," Sheila ordered as she focused on Megan like a persistent heat-seeking-missile-in-law.

The change in Brianna’s demeanor was instantaneous and shocking. The five-year-old girl who had been timid and helpless, who had been unwilling to break free when Sheila had carried her away, suddenly became a miniature warrior.

"You can’t take her," Brianna said clearly, her tiny voice deepening with menace. She stepped in front of Brent and blocked Sheila’s path as she stood in a battle-ready stance. Her small frame stiffened as her muscles tensed to take action. She was every bit the future mantle of Brigit.

"Brianna, dear, what are you talking about?" Sheila asked with a smile. She didn’t recognize the combative stance for what it was.

Tara did. "Bri, sweetie, it’s okay." Tara rushed past Sheila and scooped up Brianna. "It’s okay, honey. We’re here." She kissed Brianna’s temple and then pressed her lips to her daughter’s ear. "It’s okay, Bri. You don’t have to defend your baby sister right now. Mommy and I are here to do that."

Brianna’s tiny, wiry frame was full of tension, but she relaxed and allowed her body to mold into Tara’s embrace. She wrapped her spindly legs around Tara’s waist. "Mama?" she asked hesitantly. She looked over and watched as Sheila hovered near Brent looking at Megan.

"It’s okay, sweetie," Tara promised. "She can’t take your sister or you."

"Bring my baby girl over here," Willow asked quietly. There was a lump in her throat, and she needed to hold Brianna. She was both proud and terrified of Brianna’s reaction.

"Let’s go see your mommy, hmm?" Tara kissed Brianna’s cheek.

Willow took her oldest child and squeezed Brianna affectionately. "Can’t have that cute little baby getting all the attention, now can we?"

Brianna blushed and buried her face in Willow’s hair, once again acting like a little girl and not the future mantle of Brigit.

"That’s my big girl," Willow said as she put Brianna on the bed and ran her hand down the child’s back. "Your grandma would never hurt your sister or you," Willow whispered, quietly so her father couldn’t hear. "But it was every sweet of you to defend her." That was something of a white lie, Willow realized.

There was nothing sweet about Brianna’s stance. It was the first and most basic stance the guardians had taught Brianna, but that stance preceded a kick through the kneecap of whoever was coming toward her. The guardians worked wearing thick padding, but Ceri had assured Willow and Tara that if Brianna ever had to use the maneuver on an adult, the force would tear the ligaments and possibly dislocate the kneecap. The technique was designed to cripple so Brianna could outrun any attacker.

So far, Sheila Rosenberg had been thrown to the ground by the guardians, locked in a holding cell, confined to the guest quarters as if she were a criminal in rather lush country-club prison, and generally confused by the situation. Willow didn’t want to add a trip to the orthopedic surgeon to the laundry list of complaints her mother was sure to hold over her head until she was old and gray.

"Lady Tara," Brent said with a questioning tone. She was keeping her body pivoted so Sheila couldn’t take Megan out of her arms. She wasn’t about to let Willow’s mother near either of the children without Tara’s permission.

"It’s all right, Brent," Tara said, though her body tensed at the idea of handing over her newborn child to the woman who had so recently tried to steal Brianna.

"Why does she call you Lady?" Ira asked.

Willow, Tara and Brent all cringed internally.

"Well…" Willow said. "You see, it’s a long story, and it kinda’ has something to do with why this is not US soil."

Sheila took Megan into her arms. She was listening intently to the conversation, but she couldn’t help but smile at her adorable granddaughter. She studied Megan’s face and then she looked at Willow. Her eyes darted back to Megan and then over at Tara. "My goodness, she really does have your eyes," she admitted. "She really is your child, isn’t she?"

Tara nodded.

"She calls you Lady." Sheila rocked Megan in her arms as she looked at Brent. "Does this mean that Tara is some kind of royalty?"

Tara smiled shyly and blushed.

Willow cleared her throat. "Something like that."

Sheila’s chest puffed out proudly. "My grandchildren are royalty?" She moved closer to Tara. "Well, who … what … Are you related to the British monarchy?"

Brent spoke before anyone else could. "Tara is from a long and distinguished line, but it’s a Celtic line, a line that no longer holds power in the United Kingdom, but is still greatly revered." It was mostly true, and Brent was willing to tell the lie if it would appease Sheila’s curiosity. Besides, many of the Imbolc Mages had spent time in the United Kingdom. Of course, thousands of years earlier they hadn’t been called that, but at the moment, Brent wasn’t worried about semantics.

"And these women are some type of Secret Service? Bodyguards?" Ira asked.

"These women, as you insist on calling us, are trained to protect … the royal family," Brent said. She had to bite the side of her cheek to keep from giggling when she watched Tara’s eyes almost bulge out of her head. "And while Tara’s family line may not ever actually hold political power, they still must be protected."

"Is this about all that trouble in Ireland?" Sheila asked. "I thought that was finished with now that they finally have peace."

"There are many reasons," Brent said cryptically. "But, as you can no doubt understand, it’s better to be overly cautious when it comes to the safety of Lady Tara and her children."

"What about Willow?" Sheila asked indignantly. "Shouldn’t she be protected?"

Willow smirked and looked over at Tara. They both knew Sheila was going to have a swelled a head that wouldn’t even fit through the huge doors to the main dining hall. The mere suggestion that her grandchildren were royalty had Sheila ready to burst with pride.

"Lady Willow is always protected," Brent assured Sheila.

"Lady Willow?" Sheila’s eyes glazed over as she thought about telling everyone she knew that her daughter was a bonafide ‘Lady.’

"Mom, you can’t go around telling people this. It’s not public knowledge." Willow wanted to cut Sheila off at the pass. She could imagine her mother sending out announcements in the mail, or maybe renting a billboard or a skywriter.

"But Willow…" Sheila whined.

"It would put the family at risk," Brent said determinedly.

"Well, then we certainly won’t say a word to anyone," Ira said quickly. He gasped, suddenly understanding the situation. "Dear lord, do you mean to tell me that we’ve been treating these Secret Service, these bodyguards, like… like…"

"Maids," Willow said with a smirk. "Yes, daddy. You’ve been treating women trained in dozens of ways to kill, practically assassins, as if they were servants."

"Oh, dear," he said as his face suddenly paled.

"Trained to kill?" Sheila paled as well. She swayed to one side and Brent was instantly there to scoop Megan out of her arms.

"I’ve got you, little Miss," Brent said as carried Megan a few feet away. The tiny child already had a huge piece of the elder’s heart, just like Brianna.

"Trained to kill?" Sheila asked again. "I … took Brianna … and those…"

"Yes, mother," Willow said. She was enjoying seeing her mother squirm, even though she knew she shouldn’t be. "You tried to kidnap a member … of the royal family." She almost laughed saying the words. "In front of her highly skilled, highly trained bodyguards."

"Willow Danielle Rosenberg, how could you keep this from us?" Apparently Sheila was over the shock and was now angry.

Willow suddenly felt like she was in high school and had just been caught sneaking in after midnight. "Mothe—"

"You will not speak to my wife in that tone." Tara intervened and moved to Willow’s side before Sheila could even begin to read Willow the riot act. Tara’s back was straight and her eyes were crisp and clear. She looked as regal as any princess or queen that had ever walked the planet. She took Willow’s hand protectively and turned to face Sheila. "She is my wife, and as such, she will be treated with the respect she deserves."

"Wh— but … Ta…" Sheila paused, not quite sure how to address Tara now that she knew the blonde had royal standing.

"I believe Lady Tara made herself perfectly clear," Brent said in a dangerous tone that left no room for argument.

Sheila turned toward Brent.

The elder was cradling Megan in the crook of her left elbow, yet her right hand was free, and Brent smoothly reached down and pulled her jacket aside to reveal the handle of a dagger at her waist.

Sheila’s eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted.

"Sheila!" Ira leapt forward to grab his wife.

"Maybe I came on a little too strong," Brent said as she watched Ira scramble to catch his wife.

Ira barely managed to reach his wife in time, but his shaking hands were enough to slow Sheila’s fall, so she only crumpled to the floor instead of landing on her face.

Tara bit her lip. She really shouldn’t enjoy Sheila’s distress as much as she was.

"Maybe a little strong," Willow agreed with a smirk. She was glad she now considered herself a Wiccan, because had she been what Sheila considered a ‘good Jewish daughter,’ she would have been feeling the crushing weight of guilt. As it was, Willow was more than a little amused.

"Oh, dear." Ira shifted Sheila on the floor so she wasn’t coiled into a heap. "I guess this is going to take some getting used to," he said as he looked over at Willow and sighed.

Sadly, he was mistaken. Getting used to the situation proved all too easy for Sheila Rosenberg.

*****

Three weeks later, Ira and Sheila Rosenberg were still staying at the sanctuary and Willow’s mother was roaming the grounds as if she were the Queen Mother. She had actually suggested that the guardians call her that. Tara had physically restrained Brent, and only a long walk through the gardens with the blonde witch had calmed Brent down enough to politely tell Sheila that would never happen.

Willow hadn’t been as calm, but Tara couldn’t be in two places at once, so while Tara was calming down Brent, Willow had bluntly asked her mother, "Are freaking insane?" That had been one of the high points. Willow wondered how long it would take before she went insane, and she was handling Sheila’s presence far better than Tara was.

Where Sheila had once treated Tara as if she were a temporary inconvenience in Willow’s life, she now acted as if Tara were the Second Coming, an odd fact, considering Sheila was Jewish. And where Sheila had once avoided engaging Tara in conversation, she now constantly followed Tara around the grounds peppering the blonde with dozens of questions. Sheila wanted to know Tara’s entire family history, and she wanted to know exactly how her family fit into the royal family. On several occasions, Tara considered punishing Willow for coming up with the white lie.

Certainly the fact that Tara been the Imbolc mage gave her a high standing in the Wiccan community, but they couldn’t tell Sheila that. So instead, an elaborate story was concocted, and it seemed that every time someone else added to the tale, Tara gained higher standing across the Atlantic. Tara wondered how long it would be before Sheila asked to attend the coronation when Tara ascended to the British throne.

Sheila was becoming something of a Celtic expert. She had Ira go to three bookstores and buy every text on the Celtic Isles in stock. The rest were on order. Every time Sheila found a new clan name, she would ask Tara if they were her ancestors.

It got so bad that Tara actually considered using Lethe’s Bramble to wipe Ira and Sheila’s memories of the last several weeks. The blonde witch wondered if it would be better to have Sheila go back to hating her instead of hounding her endlessly. Tara quickly decided against that because she knew better than most that tampering with memories was wrong. It also would have brought up too many painful memories for Willow and her.

There was also the fact that Willow was enjoying having her parents’ approval. Even though Willow felt the strain of her parents’ extended stay, some part of her was ecstatic that both her parents now accepted Tara. The Rosenbergs were now welcoming Tara into the fold. Each time the Rosenbergs invited themselves to dinner with Willow and Tara, despite the minor inconvenience, Willow couldn’t help but be happy that her parents wanted to spend time with her family. Even though Sheila fussed over Megan incessantly, Willow liked forming a relationship with her mother for the first time in her life. Unfortunately, the longer Sheila and Ira stayed, the more intrusive Willow’s mother became.

Initially Ira and Sheila stayed in the guest bungalow and would call before coming up to visit at the Imbolc house. Now, three weeks later, Sheila had decided that she should have the run of the entire sanctuary, including Willow and Tara’s home. It had gotten to the point that Tara had begun locking the front door, something she had never felt the need to do in the entire time they had lived at the sanctuary. There had never been any need to use locks. The sanctuary was the safest place on earth. They had armed guardians whose sole purpose was to keep the witches and their family safe. Unfortunately, now that Sheila and Ira believed that the guardians were some type of Secret Service, they wouldn’t dare do anything to upset the well armed women. Since Willow’s parents wouldn’t dare do anything to endanger the children, there was no feasible reason for the guardians to keep the older Rosenbergs away from the Imbolc house. Privacy was the first casualty. Tara’s patience was the second.

What the two witches really needed was some time alone. Luckily, there was someone at the sanctuary who was going to see to it that they got it.

*****

Tara slowly awakened, but she didn’t open her eyes. She could tell by the way her breasts were aching that it was almost time to feed Megan. The tiny baby had already taken over the household, and she was remarkably punctual in her demands to be fed. Tara smiled and snuggled closer to Willow, who was sleeping soundly. Tara decided that Megan must have gotten her punctuality from Willow. The redheaded witch would practically break into hives if she was late for any engagement. Apparently, Megan was the same way.

Tara yawned and opened her eyes and then carefully untangled from Willow and rolled away from the redhead’s warm body. The clock beside the bed read 5:56 am. Megan would wake up any moment. Tara looked back at Willow and smiled.

Willow let out a tiny groan of protest. She missed Tara’s body pressed against her back, and even while sleeping, Willow wasn’t above a grouchy display of her displeasure. Her brow furrowed and she scrunched her face into a pout.

Tara almost giggled. It was the exact expression Megan got when she was hungry or needed to be changed. "Shh … I’m right here, darling," Tara whispered as she kissed just below Willow’s ear.

Willow whimpered contentedly and smiled in her sleep.

This was the time of day that Tara loved. She watched Willow sleep, and she felt her own heart fill. The sky outside was just brightening as night gave way to day, and birds were announcing the coming dawn.

A quiet tap at the door disturbed the silence. Tara recognized the knock immediately. It was Brent. The elder would use just the pad of one finger to give three quick taps on the frame of the door, and then wait a few discrete moments before entering to allow Willow and Tara to get ready for a visitor.

Tara settled back into the bed next to Willow and pulled the blanket up to cover her chest. She smiled as the door opened and Brent peeked her head into the room.

"My Lady, did I wake you?" the elder whispered.

Tara shook her head and held a finger to her lips, letting Brent know she should keep her voice down.

Brent smiled brightly as she crept into the room. She went directly to the bassinet and checked Megan. She immediately noticed the infant’s unhappy expression. "Would you like me to change her?" Brent glanced over at Tara and raised an eyebrow.

Tara rolled her eyes and nearly laughed out loud. Brent could read the infant’s expressions almost as well as Willow or Tara could. "Be my guest," she whispered. She sat up and made sure to cover Willow. She paused, then tucked her own pillow against Willow’s back and then sat with her legs dangling over the side of the bed. She watched Brent handle Megan with loving hands. The elder was gentle and her movements were sure and certain, but Tara knew Megan would not sleep through a changing when it was so close to her feeding time.

Megan squeezed her eyes tightly and a pitiful frown covered her face. She clinched both hands into fists and shook her arms.

Brent looked up and gave Tara a wry smirk. "This one’s going to have quite a temper," she whispered.

Tara nodded as she heard Megan let out a frustrated squawk. It was enough to awaken Tara’s body, and she felt her milk letting down.

Megan’s eyes fluttered open as Brent finished putting on a fresh diaper.

"Well, hello there." Brent leaned down and scooped Megan into her arms. "Good morning, little Miss." She kissed the top of Megan’s head and swayed in a gentle rhythm.

Megan sighed and snuggled into the embrace.

"Oh, sure," Tara whispered playfully. "She wakes up grouchy when I pick her up, but for you she’s all smiles."

Brent sat on the bed next to Tara, being careful not to bounce Willow. "She knows I’m going to spoil her." Brent nodded toward Tara’s thin nightshirt. "But she also knows who feeds her."

"I think if you had milk, she’d run away with you right now." Tara took Megan and then lifted her shirt and Megan eagerly began eating.

"How was your night?" Brent glanced back at Willow. It was unusual for the redhead to sleep with a conversation going on only a few feet away. "Did Lady Willow get any rest?"

"Some." Concern filled Tara’s voice. She glanced back at her lover and frowned. Even though she and Willow were taking turns feeding Megan, Willow would wake up at each feeding. No matter how much Tara insisted that Willow go back to sleep, the redhead insisted on watching Tara feed their child. Tara couldn’t really argue too strongly. She was guilty of the same thing. She loved watching Willow feed Megan, and they had both been the same way with Brianna.

Tara twisted around so she could get a better look at Willow, and Megan grunted and kicked both feet.

"Oh, yes, quite a temper." Brent giggled as she watched Megan make it positively clear she didn’t appreciate her mama moving during mealtime.

Willow inhaled deeply and the exhaled in a long sigh. "Tara?" she asked as she yawned.

"Right here, love." Tara cradled Megan with one arm and reached back and patted Willow’s hip.

Willow yawned again and rolled toward Tara. She smiled as soon as she saw Brent. "Good morning," she said as she shyly tugged her blanket higher. Willow’s nightshirt was low cut and showed more cleavage than she generally liked to share with the world. "Your daughter is right on time," Willow told Tara after glancing at the clock.

"Actually, that’s why I’m here at this unholy hour," Brent explained.

Tara raised one eyebrow in silent question.

"I knew you’d be up to feed the little Miss," Brent said. "She eats every two hours, like clockwork."

"Uh huh." Willow nodded as she sat up and scooted up the bed so she could sit with the headboard as a backrest. She moved her foot under the covers and playfully poked Tara’s behind with her toes. She liked having some contact with Tara at all times.

Brent smiled and pretended to not see Willow’s toes effectively groping Tara, or Tara’s smirk in response. "Well, since the little Miss is so regular, and since I happen to know that you two have a nice supply of extra milk in the refrigerator, I thought you might let me take Megan for the day," Brent said.

"But she’s so little," Willow whined. "She’ll think we abandoned her."

Brent chuckled as she watched Tara’s brow furrow. "I thought you two might like to sleep for more than two hours at a time."

"But just for the day, right?" Tara asked. She held Megan a bit closer, needing the connection.

"The little Miss be fine." Brent rolled her eyes. She reached out and ran her hand over the back of Megan’s head. "She loves me, and as long as I have milk, she’ll be thrilled." She pulled her hand back and gave Willow and Tara a knowing smile. "You two are the ones who are going to stress out."

"I’ll admit, we are mildly attached to our child," Willow said primly. "But that’s a good thing."

"Very good." Tara pressed a gentle kiss to Megan’s forehead.

"Yes, very good," Brent agreed. "Now, Willow, you get that breast pump while Tara feeds the little Miss and then I will take her. As soon as Miss Brianna wakes up, the two of us will take Miss Megan on her first adventure in the garden."

"But…" Tara’s expression was broken hearted.

"Adventure?" Willow asked. "Her first trip to the garden?" She looked like she might cry.

"Okay." Brent laughed and shook her head. "We’ll save the garden tour until you two can join us." She chuckled and let out a sigh. "Probably best anyway. I wouldn’t want your mother having a coronary when she heard I was taking Miss Megan into the jungle."

Willow snorted. "Okay, so my mom is a little overprotective." Her smile faded when she noticed Tara’s body stiffen. "She won’t stay much longer." Willow shifted her weight and hugged Tara from behind. "Honey, I promise. She and daddy will get bored soon." Willow knew her parents were driving Tara insane. She and Tara had even had a few arguments that were completely out of character for both of them.

Tara let out a sigh. "I know they weren’t around when you were growing up. I want you to spend time with them." Her tone was weary, and it was not from lack of sleep. Now that Sheila had accepted Tara in Willow’s life, Sheila decided she could offer any motherly advice that popped into her head, and Sheila Rosenberg’s head was a very crowded place indeed. "It’s just sometimes … I like having a nice peaceful day at home," Tara said. "With just us."

"We can have some mommy time today." Willow smiled hopefully, though she knew her parents were bound to interrupt. Ira and Sheila were spending most of their days camped on the couch in Willow and Tara’s living room.

"I’ll ask your mother to join Miss Brianna and I," Brent offered. "I’m sure your parents would love to spend some time with both the girls." It was a huge sacrifice. Even though Willow’s parents no longer treated Brent like a servant, they didn’t acknowledge the strong family bond she had with both children.

"Oh, Brent, I can’t ask you to do that." Willow knew her mother was extremely jealous of Brent, and Sheila was all too eager to butt into anything Brent and Brianna might do. It was obvious that Brianna adored Brent, and Sheila wasn’t pleased about that fact.

"You two need some time together," Brent said firmly. "Alone." She met Willow’s gaze. "Without any interruptions." Brent’s love for Tara was as strong and deep as any mother’s. She had seen the strain take its toll on Tara. The day before, Tara had snapped at several of the guardians, and that action told Brent things were getting out of hand. She didn’t want Tara and Willow’s relationship to suffer, and she would do anything to intervene, even spend the day with Sheila Rosenberg.

"Honey?" Tara’s expression was hopeful as she spun and looked at Willow.

"Stay in bed with my sexy wife all day?" Willow scrunched her brows as she pretended to think it over. "Well, I guess if you twist my arm." She smiled coyly. "Yes."

"Thank you." Tara leaned over and gave Willow a tender kiss. She balanced Megan as she caressed Willow’s cheek and then kissed her again.

"Well, if I’d known kisses were a part of the deal I would have said ‘yes’ right away." Willow reached down and rubbed Megan’s back. "All right, Miss Megan, you need to be on your best behavior for Brent, okay?"

Megan grunted and kicked both feet. She might as well have opened her mouth and stubbornly said, "No!" The message was the same.

Tara laughed and then cleared her throat. "Oh, we are in so much trouble."

"Of that, I have no doubt." Brent leaned over Tara’s shoulder and studied Megan. "This little one is strong willed. It will serve her well." She rested a hand on Tara’s arm and gave her a playful squeeze. "I just can’t imagine where she got that trait." The sarcasm in her tone was tempered with love.

"You might need some of that strong will yourself after a few hours with my mom," Willow pointed out.

Brent swallowed with a gulp and gave Willow a solemn look. "I have faced demons, Keepers, and dark forces from the foulest depths of hell. And I have faced you when Lady Tara wouldn’t let you eat chocolate, how much worse can your mother be?"

Tara let out a bark of laughter.

"Brigit give me strength," Brent whispered.

"You’ll need it." Willow snickered.

Tara dipped her head and gave Willow a crooked grin. "So will you," she whispered with a saucy leer.

Willow’s mouth went dry. "So, Miss Megan, you done with breakfast yet?" She wondered if handing Megan to Brent and shooing her out of the bedroom would be rude.

Tara smirked as Megan finished eating. "All done." She rested the infant on her shoulder and patted her back. Her eyes locked with Willow’s.

Willow rubbed Megan’s back. "Come on, missy. Let’s have a burp. Okay, then … Mistress Brent can’t wait to hang out with grandma all day long."

Brent hoped Willow and Tara appreciated her sacrifice. She chuckled and shook her head. They’d be much too busy appreciating each other to think about her. ‘As is should be,’ she thought, but then she thought about Sheila Rosenberg. ‘What have I gotten myself into,’ she thought glumly.

End chapter nine

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!