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

© beginning July 2002

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Willow and Ceri arrived at the infirmary just as a van came speeding up the long driveway. Ceri yanked Willow to a safe location near the door as the guardians jumped out of the van. There was a flurry of activity as they hurried to the back doors of the vehicle.

"Tara?" Willow asked.

"We would have heard," Ceri assured her friend. "Oh, goddess…"Ceri watched as three guardians lifted Bre’s lifeless body from the back seat of the van. Her head flopped over one guardian’s arm and blood covered Bre’s chest.

"No…" Willow moved forward, but Ceri held her back so they wouldn’t get in the way.

"Easy," Brigan said harshly. "My finger’s inside her chest." She moved along beside Bre. She had one finger inside the bullet wound and was keeping pressure on a severed artery. "I said easy, not stop. Move it," she ordered.

"What happened?" Ceri asked.

"The Keeper’s men shot her," Brigan said as they rushed into the building. "We need help, damn it!" she yelled at no one in particular.

"That was fast," Kathy said as she ran down the narrow hall with a gurney. "Oh, god." She spun and looked for another nurse. "Get that A negative!" she yelled. All the guardians’ blood types were on file, and as soon as she received word that Bre had been shot, she checked the young guardian’s records and then pulled six units of blood from the storage facility. "And have them pull six more units!" she yelled when she saw how pale Bre was.

"She stopped breathing twice," Brigan said as they transferred Bre to the gurney.

"Damn it," Kathy said. She looked down the hall. "Where’s Doctor Bailey?" She grabbed an IV cannula from a second nurse and inserted it into Bre’s hand and then hung a unit of blood. She shoved it at the nearest guardian. "Hold this high over your head and squeeze it, hard." She opened the IV feed as wide as it would go and then moved to start another IV on the other side.

Willow and Ceri followed mutely. They stood out of the way and watched in awe as Doctor Bailey came in like whirlwind and took over the trauma. Within two minutes, Bre was whisked off to surgery.

Brigan stood in the hall in shock. Her clothes were soaked with Bre’s blood. She stared down at her hands and shivered.

"What happened?" Ceri asked quietly.

"I need to wash my hands." Brigan was distracted. She headed for the nearest bathroom with Ceri and Willow on her heels. She didn’t speak until she had handfuls of soap and was lathering it against her skin. The foam was stained red. "We ran into the Keeper’s men," she said as she rinsed the bloody suds under the water and got more soap. "They were observing Lady Tara."

"They shouldn’t be there at all," Willow said angrily. "You should have killed them on the spot." She was furious that the Keeper’s men were in the same county as Tara, let alone lurking in the nearby canyon.

"Let her talk," Ceri said gently as she wrapped an arm over Willow’s shoulders. She knew her friend needed answers, but she also knew Brigan was badly shaken.

"They know the rules," Willow continued. "If they come near her, they die."

"And they did," Brigan interrupted. "Bre shot them both … dead."

Willow inhaled sharply.

"They got off one round, and it hit Bre in the chest." Brigan dried her hands and then rubbed her face with the damp paper towels. She tossed them into the trash and gave Willow her full attention. "I didn’t even realize she’d been hit. We were worried about Lady Tara."

"They shot at her?" Willow’s anger flared.

"No," Brigan assured her.

"Explain," Willow ordered. "Now. All of it." She was livid and she was not about to have anything held back. "Every detail, and if you leave anything out, I’ll see to it you’re yanked off the Imbolc guard."

Brigan nodded. She knew Willow was serious, and she knew Willow could carry out the treat. The members of the Imbolc guard knew that Lady Willow had once shared the mantle of Brigit. They also knew her daughter would be the next Imbolc mage. "It all started when Lady Tara left the sanctuary…" Brigan began.

Willow nodded. She already hated where the story was going. She knew Tara would blame herself for Bre killing two men and getting shot. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the rest, but she had to.

"We went to the canyon and that’s where the trouble began." Brigan glanced toward the operating room.

*****

A car horn honked as one driver cut off another. It was a common occurrence in the Los Angeles traffic. The sound of the aggravated drivers was a familiar one on the streets near Los Angeles memorial hospital. Dawn had chosen the hospital to finish her residency. She had enjoyed going to school in California’s bay area, but she liked the idea of being closer to home, so she had transferred for her residency.

Dawn sat with her back against the wall near the ER entrance. She looked down at the cigarette in her hand and slowly lifted it to her lips and took a long drag. She held the smoke, letting the nicotine absorb into her lungs. She lowered the cigarette and rested her hand on her knee and studied the smoke rising from the bright red ember.

She knew cigarettes were bad for her, that they caused cancer, but she also knew that she needed something to get her through the grueling hours she was putting in as a resident. Cigarettes seemed like the least destructive choice. She glanced down at her green scrubs, not really seeing the familiar fabric, for the color was like an ever-present background, like the noise of the traffic. What caught Dawn’s eyes were the bloodstains. Her knees were splashed with color.

"Fuck," she whispered and then took another long drag and let the smoke out in a slow breath, tilting her head back and watching the smoke rise up to disappear into the air. She felt the sting of tears and sniffled. She angrily whipped the offensive tear away. She was doctor, even though she still had to finish her residency. She could not allow her emotions to get the best of her. People died. That was a fact of life. She cleared her throat as the tears found purchase and rolled down her pale cheeks.

"Doctor Summers?" An older man asked from behind her.

Dawn stiffened. She recognized the voice instantly. It was Doctor Douglas. He was Dawn’s favorite instructor, and he had taken her under his wing as his protégé. She cleared her throat and stood. She tossed the cigarette to the ground and stomped it into oblivion.

"What can I do for you, Doctor Douglas?" Dawn pushed her professional mask back into place.

"Are you all right?" Doctor Douglas asked. He nodded toward the cigarette. He knew that many of the Med students took up smoking as a way to alleviate the stress of the difficult course load and the long hours. He also knew that Dawn had been trying to quit.

Dawn paused and looked down at the ground. "I knew it would really hurt when I lost one," she said quietly. "I just didn’t expect it to hurt this much."

He nodded in understanding. "Was this the first patient you’ve lost?" he asked.

She nodded, then shook her head, and then looked away. "I’ve lost patients before," she explained. "But this is the first one that was, you know, mine mine and not under another doctor."

"The young MVA?" he asked.

"Yeah." Dawn’s throat ached even saying the word. "I was so worried about her neck and spine that … you know… I should have checked…" She paused. There wasn’t much to say. The young patient had been in a motor vehicle accident and had presented with a dozen complaints. Unfortunately, Dawn had missed the fatal injury.

"She had a dissecting aneurysm, Doctor Summers. There’s not a damn thing you could have done." He didn’t want his protégé blaming herself for a death that couldn’t have been prevented. "She must have had a congenital defect, and the impact made it tear." He stepped closer. "She was a fatality waiting to happen."

"She was alive when I got her," Dawn countered.

"The tear progressed," he responded.

"I should have done a rule-out ultrasound, to check for cardiac damage." She shook her head and reached into her pocket and pulled out her cigarettes. "I … I had the ultrasound tech there. I was checking her for a spinal injury and a belly rupture from the lap belt."

"She presented with severe abdominal pain," he said gently. "She had massive bruising from the seat-belt, and it was logical to assume the blood gathering in her thorax was from a belly wound. We look for horses, Doctor Summers. An aortic aneurysm is a zebra." He wanted his doctors looking for the most common causes for symptoms, not chasing down obscure cases only seen in textbooks.

"That zebra killed her," she said angrily. "She had bruising on her chest. I should have checked."

"We can’t check everything at once, Doctor Summers," he said. "Besides, how long did you work on her before she arrested?"

Dawn took a cigarette out and rolled it over in her fingers studying it as she went through the trauma in her mind. "Maybe ten minutes," she admitted. "Another 30 trying to bring her back." She looked down at the blood covering her scrubs. When the surgical resident had cracked open the patient’s chest, blood gushed out like someone had opened a water main. She bled out inside her chest before he ever arrived.

"And in that ten minutes, you expected to find every possible injury?" he asked.

"I should have found the most deadly one." Dawn looked into his eyes.

"You were trying to rule out a spinal fracture and to make sure she didn’t have abdominal bleeding. She presented with lap belt bruising and you did everything by the book. Her aorta ruptured. It was a congenital defect and once it ripped, it kept ripping halfway to her belly. Marcy Welby couldn’t have saved her if she’d been prepped and sedated in an OR."

Dawn smirked. He often quoted the television physician from decades earlier.

"You gonna’ argue with Marcus Welby?" he asked solemnly.

Dawn shook her head and a hint of smile appeared. Just as quickly, it vanished. "So, what do I tell her family?" She sighed and met his eyes. He had pale grey eyes, and kindness always seemed to fill them. "People die? Just one of those things?" She shook her head. "It’s not very comforting."

"But it’s the truth," he said gently. "That’s the best we can offer." He patted Dawn’s shoulder. "Your shift ends in three or four hours, right?"

Dawn nodded.

"Then you have two whole days off?" He rubbed her shoulder trying to remind her that any other resident would kill for two consecutive days off.

"Yeah." Dawn imagined leaving her shift and going straight to the local pub where the residents hung out. If she was lucky, she could get drunk until she had to sober up for her next shift in 48 hours.

"Why don’t you leave now," he suggested. "Things are slowing down. We have those new Med students to do the grunt work."

"I can do my job, sir," Dawn said. "Lots of doctors lose patients."

"I know you’re a good doctor," he said confidently. "It’s just, well, I was going to send someone home anyway, and this is the first patient you’ve lost. The first one is the hardest."

Dawn shook her head and continued to stare at the unlit cigarette in her hand. She crumbled in up and tossed the broken remains onto the pavement. "No. I can do it."

The door to the ER opened and Nurse Lincoln leaned out. "Doctor Summers, you have a phone call."

Dawn took a deep breath. "I hope it’s not her family." She let out a long sigh. "Who is it?" Dawn asked.

"Umm…" Nurse Lincoln furrowed her brow. "Somebody … something … about someone named Bre?" she said with a questioning tone. "She’s on line four." She shrugged and hurried back inside.

Dawn’s entire face lit up. A hint of a real smile appeared.

"Friend of yours?" Doctor Douglas asked with a coy smirk.

"Best friend," Dawn corrected. "She has been since we were fifteen or sixteen." She tossed her cigarettes into the garbage can and rubbed her hands together. "And somehow, no matter what’s going on, she always seems to know just when I need her most."

"That’s a good kind of friend to have," he said and he gave her a firm, fatherly pat on the back. "I’d hold onto that one if I were you."

"Believe me, I intend to." She smiled and trotted inside and went to the nurses’ station. She grabbed the phone from the cradle and hit the blinking light. "You have the best timing in the entire planet," Dawn said in a rush. "I so needed to talk to you, Bre."

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line, and the Buffy spoke. "Dawn, it’s me, Buffy."

"Buffy?" Dawn asked, surprised. "Hey, how are you?" She wondered how the nurse could confuse the name Buffy with Bre.

"Dawnie … something’s happened. It’s Bre. She’s … there’s been … She’s hurt, Dawn. Bad."

Dawn’s legs almost gave out. She leaned against the counter of the nurses’ station. "What happened?" The color drained from her face. She wrapped her fingers in the phone cord, twisting it as she waited for an explanation.

"There was an incident," Buffy said. "Ya’ know…" She paused, trying to figure out how to discuss it without risking an outsider listening in. "Bre was out … near the grounds. And, there was, uh, a hunting accident." She said the last two words clearly, stressing them in the hopes that Dawn would understand.

"Hunting accident?" Dawn asked. Her mouth went dry and she was a little lightheaded. "So, Bre’s been shot?" she guessed correctly.

"Yeah," Buffy said grimly.

"Was anyone else hurt?" Dawn asked. She needed to know if Tara, Willow, and their children were safe.

"No one … none of us," Buffy said.

"How is she?" Dawn asked. She tangled her entire hand in the phone cord and she leaned down, as if trying to reach through the line to be closer to her injured friend.

"I don’t know, Dawn. I’m not the doctor in the family. I just know it’s bad." Buffy sniffled and then cleared her throat. "She got shot in the chest."

"But she’s alive?" Dawn asked. "You’d tell me if…" She couldn’t even say the words.

"Yeah, she’s alive," Buffy promised. "They took her to surgery."

"When?" Dawn looked over her shoulder and saw Doctor Douglas coming back inside. She caught his attention and lifted her head to invite him closer.

"A little over a half hour ago," Buffy explained. "It took them twenty minutes to get her here and they rushed her right into surgery."

"Call me on my cell phone if you hear anything," Dawn said. "I’ll be there in two hours."

"Dawnie, calm down. It takes over two hours just to get here," Buffy lectured.

"I’ll be there in two hours," Dawn said. She hung up the phone and sighed.

"Doctor Summers, did you need something?" Doctor Douglas asked.

"That friend of mine," Dawn said as she nodded toward the phone. "She’s been in an accident. Can I go ahead and take you up on that offer to leave early?"

"Nothing serious I hope." His concern was genuine.

"Hunting accident," Dawn explained. "She’s been shot in the chest."

"Oh, my. Yes, by all means, go on." He waved her away with both hands. "I’ll sign you out. Get going."

"Thank you." Dawn gave his arm a quick squeeze and then sprinted for the locker room to get her things.

*****

Halfway back to the sanctuary, Brent and Tara met up with another group of guardians. Tara was relieved at first, but Brent quickly took all the joy out of the reunion. Brent ordered Tara to switch horses with one of the other riders, and the elder did the same. With fresh horses, they continued back to the sanctuary at top speed.

They came stampeding through the gate and went directly to the barn. Tara almost fell off as the powerful horse slid to a stop. Her legs felt like rubber, and her right leg was numb. Her breasts felt like they were about to burst out of her tank top. As she slid down from the sweat lathered horse she was picturing her own twin Hindenbergs exploding with milk.

"Oh, geez," she whimpered as her weight landed, sending sharp pains up her sore leg. She leaned her face against the horse’s shoulder, not caring that he was covered in foamy sweat. Tara was exhausted, and her mind wandered as she tried to catch her breath. She sighed, and patted the horse’s chest. His name was Peat, like the black muck in bogs, after the color he was at birth. His coat had lightened to almost white as he grew older.

"Let’s go," Brent said as she stopped behind Tara.

Tara sighed, and lifted her head from its resting place on Peat’s sticky shoulder. She unsnapped her helmet and turned to face Brent. "Go where?" she asked wearily.

"I want you checked at the infirmary, and then you can make some calls." Brent held out her hand and took Tara’s helmet.

Tara nodded. Normally she’d argue before going to the infirmary, but at the moment, she was in too much pain. The thought of some world class pain relievers sounded quite nice, actually.

"You’re helmet’s cracked," Brent said quietly. She traced the scuffed fracture on the plastic helmet and then ran her fingers through Tara’s hair on that side. "Did you pass out?" She was still angry, but her eyes showed her loving concern as she caressed Tara’s scalp looking for any sign of swelling.

"No," Tara said. "I just whacked my helmet on the creek bed."

Brent nodded and took Tara’s arm and led her to a waiting car. She made sure Tara was buckled in for the short trip and then went around to the driver’s side, dismissing the guardian who was waiting to drive them to the infirmary. Brent wanted some time alone with Tara. They drove in silence, and the tension was thick in the small car.

"Is Willow furious?" Tara asked as soon as Brent stopped the car in front of the infirmary.

"She should be," Brent said bluntly. "But right now she’s probably just scared to death for you." She turned toward Tara. "As soon as I know you’re safe, you’re going to call and have that headboard replaced before Willow goes to bed tonight."

Tara nodded and tears filled her eyes. She could handle Brent yelling at her, but the disappointment in the elder’s voice broke Tara’s heart.

"Emily’s here," Brent said. She hated seeing Tara in any pain, especially emotionally. "She explained some things. Your moods are being effected because of your mage abilities," she said gently.

Tara lifted her head and looked over at Brent with a hopeful expression.

"But that’s no excuse," Brent warned Tara. "Miss Brianna has powers she doesn’t understand. I don’t tolerate her throwing tantrums over it. I’m certainly not going to let you get away with it," the elder said firmly.

Tara nodded. She hadn’t thought it was possible to feel any worse, but having just been told that her five-year-old was handling her powers better than she was made Tara realize she could feel worse, much worse. Her anger was gone, and now Tara just felt like crying. She sat motionless, too tired and sore to move.

Brent got out and went to Tara’s side of the car and opened the door. Concern filled her eyes as she studied the black and purple bruise that covered Tara’s shoulder. It seemed to have darkened since she had checked Tara on the trail. "Can you walk?" she asked.

Tara nodded and climbed from the car with a wince. Her leg gave out and Brent instantly grabbed her.

"I’ll get a stretcher," Brent offered. She had Tara around the waist, and she was supporting most of the young witch’s weight.

"I’m fine. Let’s just get inside." Tara’s voice was weary. She limped toward the building and rested her head against Brent’s shoulder. "I hurt her. I really hurt her." Tears slid down Tara’s cheeks. "I can’t control it. I tried. I tried so hard." She began to ramble. "Everything just went so bad and I couldn’t stop it. I started saying things, hurtful, horrible things. Please don’t let me hurt her again." Her voice cracked and she took a gulping breath.

"Shh…" Brent stopped and pulled Tara into a hug.

Kathy, the nurse, opened the door to the infirmary and looked out.

Brent shook her head, signaling for Kathy to go back inside so Brent could have some time with Tara.

"I … I was just so… and the bed… I got so angry." Tara sniffled as her nose began to run. "Maybe I should leave," she said in broken whisper.

"You’re not going to hurt her," Brent said gently. "Or the girls." She knew Tara’s greatest fears. "You’re nothing like him."

Tara completely broke down. She clung to Brent and sobbed uncontrollably.

"Emily and I will help you get this under control, my Lady." Brent guided Tara to a stone bench next to the entrance. She sat and twisted toward Tara and held her.

Tara continuing sobbing. Her back shook with each painful breath.

"You’re nothing like him," Brent repeated in a whisper. She kissed the top of Tara’s head. "I’m here, my Lady." She ran her hands up and down Tara’s back. "I’m mad as hell with you right now, but I’ll always be here."

The door opened again, and this time Willow leaned out. She saw Tara crying and almost bolted out to comfort her lover, but she saw Brent and paused.

"You’re not going anywhere," Brent said as she shifted so she could hold Tara a bit closer. "Willow is your heart and those two girls are your soul. You can’t leave them." She looked over Tara’s shoulder and locked eyes with Willow.

"I used m-my magic…" Tara was sobbing and could barely speak. "Our bed…"

"Did you destroy the bed to avoid striking out at Lady Willow?" Brent asked, making Tara focus on the real issue.

"No!" Tara pulled back and shook her head. "Never. I … I could f-feel my anger … and the power. It hurt." Her lip quivered. "I just had to let some of it out…" She had her back to Willow and was too upset to feel her lover’s presence. "I would never use magic against her."

"Of course you wouldn’t. No matter how angry you felt, you could never hurt Willow." Brent cupped Tara’s chin with her hand. "I know you, my Lady. You would die before raising a hand to Willow or your daughters."

"I did hurt her," Tara whispered as she fell forward and let her tears flow.

It was too much for Willow. No matter how angry she was with Tara for the fight, for destroying the bed, or for running off, Willow could not watch her soulmate in such pain without doing something. She came out the door and sat behind Tara and began stroking the back of her head. She cringed when she saw the deep purple bruises covering Tara’s shoulder and arm.

"Will?" Tara sniffled and rubbed her face against Brent’s shoulder. She felt an instant surge of love as soon as Willow’s hand touched her.

"Who else would it be?" Willow whispered.

Tara leaned back and slowly turned toward Willow. She paused, uncertain whether Willow would welcome her or not.

Willow kept her hand in contact with Tara. She slid her fingers down and gently touched the heated bruise on Tara’s shoulder. "Don’t ever leave the sanctuary alone again," she said as she picked a bit of dried grass from the strap of the tank top.

Tara shook her head. She gripped her hands together on her lap, afraid to reach out. Her eyes were red and full of tears, but after hurting Willow, she didn’t think she had the right to ask for comfort. She didn’t have to ask at all.

"Come here." Willow guided Tara closer and the blonde broke down.

"Oh, Willow." She fell across Willow’s lap and sobbed.

"I’m here," Willow promised. She ran one hand down Tara’s back. The other hand was firmly gripped between both of Tara’s hands under her chest and against the cold bench. "I’m not going anywhere and neither are you."

"She needs to be checked soon." Brent stood and ran her hand through Willow’s hair. "I’ll get a wheelchair and talk to Emily about those herbs." She leaned down and kissed Willow’s cheek, using the opportunity to whisper into the redhead’s ear. "Be angry with her later. She’s falling apart."

Willow nodded and brushed Tara’s hair to one side. It was impossible to look at the woman clinging to her waist and remain angry. They had a lot to talk through, but the love between them was enduring.

After a few minutes, Tara quieted, but she made no effort to move. She was sprawled across Willow’s lap, and wasn’t about to give up the spot without a fight.

"You realize, I’m gonna’ have to spank you for running off, right?" Willow played with Tara’s hair, curling it around her finger as she spoke. "And not the fun kind." She frowned. "Anya’s been here a few hours and already infected me."

Tara chuckled as she sniffled.

"Don’t laugh. I’m reserving the right to yell at you as soon as I get medical clearance." Willow traced the bruise on Tara’s shoulder and took a deep breath. "Actually, I’d rather have you yell at me than see you hurting like this."

Tara shook her head as she sat up. "Don’t say that, Willow."

"When you were yelling at me, it stung, but I knew you didn’t mean it." Willow wiped the tears from Tara’s cheeks. "But when I see you crying and in pain…" She blinked as she felt her own tears form. "It hurts me deep inside." She stilled her hand on Tara’s cheek, trying to soothe away some of her lover’s pain. She knew she was about to add to that anguish.

"I don’t want to hurt you at all." Tara’s jaw trembled. "I didn’t mean to worry you. I just thought I could handle this on my own." She gripped Willow’s hand between hers. "Are you okay? Brent showed me her beeper. I know the Keeper’s men were sighted."

"They’re dead," Willow explained. She lifted Tara’s hand and held it to her own chest. "Honey, the guardian’s shot them."

Tara closed her eyes and sighed. "I heard the gunfire." She hated that death followed her.

"Tara?" Willow squeezed Tara’s hand, needing to look into her eyes.

The blonde sniffled and opened her eyes. Her sorrow was obvious.

"Honey, Bre shot them," Willow said slowly.

"Oh, my god!" Tara knew the young guardian would be devastated. "Is she okay? Should I talk to her?" She was about to go into a babble that would make Willow seem downright stoic.

"Tara, honey, there’s more," Willow interrupted. She could, and she would, be very angry with Tara later, but at the moment, she knew she was about to break her soulmate’s heart.

"What is it?" Tara froze, afraid to hear the answer, afraid not to.

"Bre’s was shot." There was no way to soften the blow, and she watched as Tara flinched as if Willow had hit her. "She’s alive," Willow quickly added.

"I have to go to her." Tara stood and instantly regretted it. Her leg was stiff and putting weight on the injured limb only made matters worse.

"You can’t go to her." Willow stood and wrapped her arm around Tara’s waist. "She’s still in surgery."

"I’ve made a mess of everything," Tara whispered.

Brent came back out with a wheelchair. Her timing was perfect because Tara slumped into it and her body gave up. She dropped her face forward and sobbed into her hands.

They wheeled her inside, but they bypassed the waiting room and took Tara directly to an exam room.

*****

One hour and forty-one minutes after Dawn hung up from Buffy, she came sprinting into the waiting room at the sanctuary.

"How is she?" Dawn demanded. She threw her small duffel bag onto the floor.

"We haven’t heard anything," Buffy said as she went to greet her sister. She pulled Dawn into a hug and held her for a long moment.

"Where is everyone?" Dawn scanned the room, quickly noting that Tara and Brent were not present. "Hey," she said to Willow.

Willow nodded in greeting. Brianna was sleeping spread across the small couch and Willow was holding Megan in one arm, with the other arm resting protectively over Brianna’s shoulder. Brianna’s head was in Willow’s lap as the young child slept fitfully, or so Willow thought.

"Doctor Dawnie?" Brianna yawned and opened her eyes and sat up.

"Hey, squirt." Dawn knelt beside the couch and ran her hand down Brianna’s arm.

"Bre got hurt," Brianna explained.

"Yeah, I know." Dawn cleared her throat. The young child’s words brought Dawn’s tears to the surface.

"Did you come to fix her?" Brianna asked.

"I’m gonna’ do everything I can, sweetie." Dawn leaned down and kissed Brianna’s forehead. She met Willow’s eyes and could see the worry in her friend’s expression. "Is mommy taking good care of you?" she asked as she ruffled Brianna’s hair.

Brianna nodded. In truth, she wanted to have both her mothers, but her mama was off with Mistress Brent, and Brianna didn’t like that one tiny bit. "Mama’s gone," she whispered grumpily.

"Gim’me her." Buffy took Megan and went over to a chair and sat. She peppered the sleeping child’s tiny head with whisper soft kisses.

"Where is your mama?" Dawn asked Brianna, but her eyes looked to Willow for an answer.

"Tara and Mistress Brent needed to do some things," Willow said. "I tried to get Brianna to wait at home, so she could play with her toys, but she wanted to wait here." She smiled and kissed her daughter’s cheek. She loved that her child already had a deep concern for others.

"This is the waiting room," Brianna told Dawn solemnly. She frowned, remembering that her grandmother had refused to wait in the hospital, calling it ‘filthy.’ Brianna wasn’t sure what filthy was, but she was sure her guardians’ waiting room wasn’t ‘filthy,’ whatever it was. "This is where you wait when people are sick so the doctors can fix them."

"It sure is," Dawn told the young girl. "I’m gonna’ go see what I can find out, okay?"

Brianna nodded and some of the weight seemed to lift off of her young shoulders. "And then you’ll fix her, right?"

Willow bit her lip. She didn’t know what she would tell Brianna if Bre didn’t survive. Brianna loved Bre, idolized her. Bre was the primary lacrosse coach and Willow knew losing the guardian would devastate Brianna.

"I’m sure gonna’ try, sweetie." Dawn stood and looked down at Willow. "Will you tell Tara I’m here?" As soon as Willow nodded, Dawn went over to where Buffy had sat in a chair next to the door.

The Slayer stood and gave Dawn another hug. "Ya’ okay, you crazy driver?"

"Hey, I only got pulled over once, and I got him to give me an escort with lights and sirens. That MD at the end of my name does wonders." Dawn eased back and brushed the hair out of Buffy’s eyes. "Any word on Tara?" she asked quietly, hoping that Willow wouldn’t hear. Dawn had called on her cell phone during the drive up. Buffy had explained that Tara’s hasty departure had put everyone in danger and ended with Bre killing two people and getting shot.

"Let me walk you out," Buffy said. She started to leave with Megan in her arms, but Willow looked up from the couch where she was holding Brianna on her lap. "Okay, okay…" Buffy said quickly. "I’ll leave the mini-wiccan." She went over to Willow and handed over the tiny bundle. "Besides, I think she’s leaking from one end." She frowned. "Maybe both." She shuddered.

Brianna smirked and sat up so she could closely examine her sister.

"Aunt Fluffy doesn’t do the diaper thing," Willow told her oldest daughter.

Brianna scrunched her face up, making it quite clear that she agreed with Buffy. Diapers were nasty, smelly things, and Brianna wanted no part of them.

Buffy started to make another snide comment, but she noticed that Dawn was fidgeting nervously. "Well, we’re gonna’ go, um, ya’ know, check on things." She hooked one arm around Dawn’s elbow and the two sisters left Willow with her children

Dawn noticed Ceri as she exited the waiting room. Ceri had her sword drawn and was standing at full attention. "Whoa," Dawn whispered. "I guess Tara’s little tantrum really got to her."

Buffy nodded.

"So, what the hell’s up with Tara?" Dawn asked.

"Some mage-o-pause thing," Buffy explained.

"Huh?" Dawn asked.

"I don’t know," Buffy whined. "It’s like menopause, pregnancy and a whole bunch of other hormonal things all rolled into one and then you throw in a bunch of mage power and then you get a big explosion."

"As in Tara’s explosive temper lately?" Dawn asked slowly.

"Something like that," Buffy said. "Brent and Emily are working with her right now. Diana and Cassie are here, too. I guess this mage-o-pause is a big deal."

"Has Cassie seen Bre?" Dawn asked.

"She got here about ten minutes before you. She went right to the scrubbing thing so she could go in that surgery room." Medical terminology was not Buffy’s strong suit.

"The OR," Dawn corrected with a loving smile. "And by that scrubbing thing, I take it you mean she went to scrub so she could go into the OR?"

"That’s what I said," Buffy complained.

"Well, I’m gonna’ go do the scrubbing thing," Dawn said tolerantly. "And then I’ll put on some scrubs…" she said, using the last word deliberately. "Then maybe I can go in and see her."

"Are you sure that’s a good idea?" Buffy asked. "I mean, it’s one thing to be a doctor, but it’s a another to you know, see inside your best friend."

"I have to be there for her, Buffy." Dawn’s voice cracked.

The sound almost broke Buffy’s heart. "I know." She pulled Dawn into a hug and rubbed her sister’s back. "She’s gonna’ be okay. She’s strong. Besides, she’s too stubborn to die."

"That didn’t stop you from dying … twice," Dawn pointed out.

"And yet, here I am." Buffy smirked. "But, well, let’s keep Bre with us without the whole resurrection deal, because, well, let’s just don’t go there." She waved her sister away. "Go. I’ll stay on Willow-watch."

Dawn nodded and then hurried toward the OR. She was halfway through her ten-minute scrub routine when the door swung open and Cassie came in. The seer was in full surgical scrubs.

Dawn started to run toward Cassie, then paused. Dawn’s hands were covered with the sterilizing soap, and if she touched Cassie now, she’d have to start her scrub routine all over. That would mean five more minutes before she could see Bre.

"Dawn." Cassie let out a sigh of relief.

"How is she?" She rushed forward, keeping her hands held awkwardly in front of her so she wouldn’t ruin her sterile field.

"She’s gonna’ be fine," Cassie said.

"Are you sure?" Dawn felt like she was going to burst into tears. She hadn’t let herself cry, and now she could barely hold back her emotions. "You’re really sure she’s okay?"

"She’s fine," Cassie promised. She put her hands on Dawn’s shoulders and pushed her away from the OR door.

"I have to go to her," Dawn insisted.

"That’s really not a good idea," Cassie said gently.

"I’m a doctor. She’s my best friend." Anger flashed over Dawn’s face.

"Which is exactly why you do not need to see her right now." Cassie pushed Dawn further away from the door.

"Is it bad?" Dawn backed up, letting Cassie guide her. The soap dripped down her elbow, making her skin itch.

"No worse than any other surgery." Cassie smiled and looked into Dawn’s eyes. "But trust me, you see your best friend in the whole world having someone work on them, and trust me, all it’s gonna do is make you throw up."

"I’ve seen surgery before," Dawn said defiantly. "I’m not some first year Med student that’s gonna lose her lunch." She didn’t add that as a first year Med student, she had done just that when she saw her first surgery.

"Dawn, you are a doctor, but this is your best friend." She paused, making sure she had Dawn’s attention. "It’s completely different when you see someone you love having a needle yanked through their skin."

Just hearing the words made Dawn’s stomach do a flip-flop.

"See?" Cassie said as she watched Dawn’s face turn green.

"You’re sure she’s okay?" Dawn asked.

"Yes. I read her aura. She’s strong." Cassie nodded. "They’re closing up right now. She’s gonna be okay."

Dawn went to the sink and rinsed her arms. "You’re not just saying that?"

"I wouldn’t lie to you," Cassie promised.

"Good. Good." Dawn dried her hands and turned toward Cassie.

"She’s fine." Cassie pulled Dawn into a hug and held her as the tears fell. "Shh…"

"Can I see her?" Dawn asked with a sniffle.

"As soon as she’s in recovery." Cassie continued holding her young friend. "We want all those nasty stitches covered up before you see her," she teased. "Can’t have you puking. It would ruin your image and Bre would never let you live it down."

Dawn sniffled. She wasn’t ready to joke just yet. "What kind of damage was there?"

"The bullet entered in the upper right quadrant," Cassie said clinically. "It missed the major organs, but it did sever one of the arteries. There was a lot of bleeding. Doctor Bailey had to take extra time to make sure everything was perfect so Bre will have full use of her arm."

"It missed the lung?" Dawn asked with another sniffle. That was very good news.

"Yeah. It hit the musculature under the clavicle." Cassie eased Dawn back and smiled. "Missed the bone too."

"They told me she was shot in the chest." She brushed a tear off her cheek.

"Things were pretty crazy when she came in. Poor Brigan." Cassie shuddered.

"What?" Dawn asked.

"They said when Brigan brought her in, she had her finger inside the bullet hole pinching off the severed artery." Cassie sighed.

"Uhmm." Dawn covered her mouth and her stomach threatened to empty.

"See?" Cassie said with a smirk. "And you wanted to go in there and poke around?"

"Maybe running into the OR wasn’t such a bright idea," Dawn admitted.

"She’ll be okay," Cassie promised. She studied the young doctor and realized there was more than platonic love and concern in Dawn’s aura. Cassie wondered if Dawn knew she was in love with Bre.

Dawn took a deep breath and let it out. She shook her head to loosen her neck muscles. "Okay, what the hell is wrong with Tara?" Her eyes narrowed. "And don’t give me that mage-o-pause crap. Bre could have died. She damn near did."

"Tara didn’t mean for any of this to happen, Dawn," Cassie interrupted.

"Really? So what’s Tara gonna’ tell Bre when she wakes up? She killed two people, Cassie. Do you have any idea what that’s going to do to her?"

"Yeah, I think I do." Cassie looked Dawn straight in the eyes. "And I think it’s gonna’ hurt Tara just as much."

"Oh, really?" Dawn asked sarcastically.

"Okay, maybe not just as much," Cassie amended. "But you know Tara. You know she’s still scarred from all the deaths that happened after her kidnapping."

"Yeah, well, running off and making Bre kill two more Keepers certainly made things better, didn’t it?" Dawn was lashing out. Now that she knew Bre was okay, her adrenaline needed an outlet.

"She’s going through something really big right now, Dawn. And speaking of that, I need to get over there." Cassie glanced at the door.

"Fine. Run off and help Tara," Dawn’s voice took on the whine she hadn’t used since she had been a teen. "Just leave Bre on the table barely clinging to life while you hold Tara’s hand. We all know Tara comes first."

"Dawn…" There was a cutting edge to Cassie’s tone that warned Dawn she was on thin ice.

"Fine. Whatever," Dawn said. "Go check on the precious mage."

"Bre is going to be fine. That was Tara’s first concern." She glared at Dawn, hating that her fear was making her act like a spoiled child. "Damn it, Dawn, they need my help with this," she said, referring to Tara’s issues with her new powers. "I went to help Tara first, and she insisted that I check on Bre."

Dawn leaned against the counter. "That’s big of her. She gets Bre almost killed and she has a big enough heart to send you over to peak at her aura. Not like you could do anything for her."

"You’re upset," Cassie said. "I’m not gonna get into this with you." She wondered what would happen if she called Dawn on her feelings for Bre.

Dawn let out a sigh and bit her lip. "Thanks for helping," she said quietly. She knew that Cassie had the ability to see how a patient was doing. In all likelihood, Cassie’s presence could have saved Bre’s life. The seer could sense something wrong and alert the surgeon long before any of the monitors would go off.

"Why don’t you head into the recovery room," Cassie suggested.

Dawn nodded and then Cassie left. A few minutes later, Cassie was at Brent’s main office. She bypassed the official office and went to a small room next to Brent’s workspace. This was a smaller office that Brent used for meditation or when she was working late at night.

Cassie tapped on the door and waited until she heard Brent call out.

"Come in," Brent said.

Cassie was not prepared for what she found.

Tara and Emily were standing in the middle of the room. Tara’s right arm was in a sling, and the flashes of color in Tara’s aura told Cassie the young mage was in horrible pain. Tara had her weight shifted toward her left leg, making it obvious that her right leg was in as much pain as her injured shoulder.

Emily was gripping Tara by both shoulders, staring intently into Tara’s eyes in a battle of wills.

Tara’s face was covered in sweat, and her bangs stuck to her face. It looked like a battle was raging, and that was partly right. A battle was waging, but it was an internal battle, and Tara had to face most of the fight alone.

"Focus," Emily ordered as she shook Tara by both arms.

"God damn it, I am focusing!" Tara said with a snarl. A book on Brent’s desk burst into flames. "What the hell do you think I’ve been doing all this time?" she asked harshly.

Emily smiled. "Well, throwing a temper tantrum comes to mind." The white-haired mage had a thin sheen of sweat on her brow, but she didn’t seem nearly as tired as Tara was. "Now, focus, sister mage."

"What the fuck do you think I’ve been trying to do?" Tara said slowly. Flames erupted in her eyes behind her irises.

"I’ll put you over my knee if I have to, Sister Tara," Emily warned.

"And you think I’m just gonna’ let you?" Tara asked. Another book on the desk burst into flames. Just as with the first, Brent was there with a blanket to smother the fire.

"Damn it, Tara," Brent complained. "That was the only copy I had of that one."

"Why do we have to do this right now?" Tara’s temper was completely off the scale. Her powers had flared up and sent her emotions out of control. She tried to turn toward Cassie so she could ask about Bre, but Emily yanked her back into position facing the older mage.

Emily squeezed Tara’s arm, hard.

Tara let out a yelp and Brent’s entire desk shattered.

"Now that’s gonna’ cost you," Brent said.

Cassie moved closer and took a deep breath as she studied Tara. The young mage’s aura was completely out of balance. "You should have called me sooner," she said as she squinted and leaned closer. "She doesn’t … fit," she said slowly. "Her aura’s all wrong."

"Well, thank you, Sherlock fucking Holmes," Tara said as she spun and glared at Cassie.

"Whoa." Cassie took a step back. "And rude to boot." She was more than a little intimidated by the flashing flames in Tara’s eyes.

Emily gripped Tara’s sore shoulder even harder and spun the testy blonde back toward her. "Oh, she’s just a barrel of fun," Emily said. "Wait until, you see the fits of crying mingled with the book flaming."

Tara started to make a nasty reply and then took a long, deep breath as she tried to center herself. She knew her friends were trying to help her, but at the moment that was difficult to remember. The power coursing through her body was physically painful. It felt as if flames were racing up and down her veins, that and the added fact that those same veins were full of hormones that seemed to be adding fuel oil to the fire made for a volatile combination. She felt another surge of power and looked around the room for something to aim it at besides her friends. She remembered doing the same thing in her bedroom with Willow. She opened her eyes and looked over at Cassie, then Brent, and then back at Emily. She felt her mood shift. She burst into tears and sank to the floor.

"See?" Emily said to Cassie. She nodded toward Tara and knelt in front of her dear friend. She pulled Tara into her arms and rocked her. "You have to focus, sister mage. You have to control this, not the other way around."

Brent grabbed a stone chalice from a shelf on the wall and brought it to Tara. "Drink this," she whispered.

Tara sniffled and wiped her eyes. "It tastes like shit," she said even as she took the chalice.

"Well, herbs are medicinal, not some new soda pop flavor." Emily helped guide the chalice to Tara’s lips. "Obviously we haven’t gotten enough of these in you just yet."-

"When will they start taking effect?" Tara asked after swallowing down a gulp of the bitter herbs. She scowled and wished she had something to get the vile taste out of her mouth.

"In about two weeks," Emily said cheerfully.

"What!" Tara demanded.

"Oh, come on." Emily rolled her eyes and looked at Tara as if the younger mage was completely clueless. "We have to change your brain chemistry. You think sipping a few herbs is going to cure that in ten minutes?"

Tara let out a sigh and looked into the chalice. She could see the nasty herbs floating on the water.

"Drink up," Emily ordered.

Tara glared at the older mage, but did as she was told.

‘This isn’t right,’ Cassie thought as she continued to walk in a circle around Tara and Emily studying both women’s auras. Emily’s powerful aura was balanced. It ebbed and flowed, moving, but it was never off kilter. It looked almost like the waves in a calm cove. You could see the power. You could see the fluctuations, but it never surged out of balance. Tara, on the other hand, looked like a raging storm. Her energy shot out in all directions and it seemed like she was barely containing it. More than that, it was much brighter than Emily’s aura, and that concerned Cassie. What little she knew about the powers of a mage told her that if anything, Tara should be much weaker than Emily.

"Brent?" Cassie asked. "Is there is chance that … the challenge … you know, didn’t take?"

Tara whipped her head around and gave Cassie a terrified stare.

Brent shook her head. "No. Tara is not the Imbolc mage," she said with complete conviction.

"Absolutely not," Emily agreed.

"I don’t understand what I’m seeing," Cassie said. "It doesn’t fit. This power, it’s not…" She sighed not knowing how to explain what her gift was telling her. "It just doesn’t fit. There’s just too much."

"Well, why don’t you get Willow in here," Emily suggested. "They’re soulmates. Compare their auras and you’ll see where Tara is out of balance." As soon as the words left her lips, Emily suddenly understood. "Oh, sweet Brigit’s bra!" She backed away from Tara, shaking her head. "Why didn’t I see this before?" she asked herself. She wandered over to Brent’s bookcase and began digging through the uncharred books.

Tara looked at Emily, wanting an answer, but the white-haired mage was deep in thought.

"Of course, that makes sense," she muttered to herself. "Oh… Emily, Emily, Emily, you must be getting senile in your old age."

"What is it?" Brent asked.

"Emily?" Tara started to move closer, but her leg made her stop. She cringed and gave the older mage a pleading look.

Emily smiled sadly. "You have a soulmate," Emily said. She found the volume she needed and yanked it from the shelf and took it over to Brent’s desk. She paused; the desk had seen its last days, having been exploded by Tara’s rage. She raised an eyebrow at the mess and then balanced the book on the one remaining corner of the desk. She hummed as she flipped through the pages. "Of course," she said. "This explains everything."

"What explains what?" Tara yelled.

"I’d like to know too," Brent said impatiently.

"I should have known." Emily turned toward Tara. "I don’t know why I didn’t recognize sister Willow."

"Sister Willow?" There was a dangerous quality in Tara’s voice. "Willow is not a mage," she said with absolute conviction.

"Oh?" Emily asked, trying to goad Tara into a reaction.

"Yes," Tara said menacingly. "It’s bad enough that I have to go through this shit. I will not see Willow go through this. No. No way in hell."

"And how do you think Willow would feel about it?" Emily asked as she folded her arms over her chest. It amused her that Tara’s anger seemed to make her use profanity as punctuation.

"She is not a mage." Tara raised her voice. "No. She doesn’t even cast. She won’t. She never casts, except to have our girls."

"Mmm, hmm." Emily nodded and then turned back to her book and read a few more passages.

"She can’t cast," Cassie said. She waved her hands in the air. "She’s got the … history thing."

"You mean she won’t cast," Emily corrected. She continued humming as she flipped through the book. "Ahh…"

"What?" Tara demanded.

"You two have spent your lives looking after each other, yes?" Emily asked as she moved back to Tara.

"We’re soulmates. That’s what we do." Tara’s patience was gone.

"Yes, of course it is." Emily spun and looked at Brent. "And Willow won’t cast?"

Brent cleared her throat, as if she were sharing some private, personal bit of dirty laundry. "Willow’s encounter with dark magic has left her…" She paused, not quite sure how to explain. "…reluctant to cast," she said. "Other than the spells to conceive her children, I don’t think she’s cast since I’ve known her."

"She hasn’t," Tara said protectively.

"Not even when the two of you…" Emily let the sentence hang, but she did waggle her eyebrows.

"That’s different," Tara said through clenched teeth. The flames in her eyes flashed like fireworks. "And it’s private."

"So, Willow hasn’t been casting, hasn’t been keeping up her little magical muscles… except when the two of you share the most intense type of casting there is." Emily folded her arms over her chest. "And I’m betting that’s rather frequently?"

Tara blushed even though her eyes remained full of rage and flame.

"So, when you cast a circle, you do the casting?" Emily guessed correctly.

"Do you have a point?" Tara asked.

"Most definitely." Emily was slightly amused at how easily Tara was angered. The older mage had a mean streak, and she rather liked seeing how easy it was to make the flames in Tara’s eyes flash. There was an ulterior motive to the taunts; she knew that Tara had to learn to harness the power, and rage was one of the most powerful emotions to channel. "My point…" Emily went back to the book and tapped the cover. "Is that soulmates are meant to bear their burdens equally." She let that sink it.

Tara felt a cold chill deep in her gut.

"You carried the mantle of Brigit for your child, and your soulmate bore the dark part of the mantle." Emily paused.

"We know that," Tara snapped,

"Do you know why she took the dark part of the mantle?" Emily asked politely.

Tara froze. She had never fully understood how exactly the mantle had been split. All she knew was that she briefly held the power that would someday be Brianna’s, and that Willow had wielded the darkness of mantle, but no real powers. Tara had assumed it was because Brianna’s darkness came from Willow. Now she wasn’t sure.

"You are a sensitive," Emily said as if that should explain everything.

"And?" Brent demanded. She wanted answers too. She was the Mistress of the Daughters of the Flame, and she was the leader of the Imbolc guard and she was thoroughly confused. She didn’t like it one tiny bit.

"Had you carried the dark part of the mantle, it would have meant disaster," Emily said bluntly. "You are a sensitive, and wielding that kind of dark power would have killed you."

"Like my mom and my aunt," Tara said quietly.

"Yes. Quite right," Emily said. "So, your soulmate bore that piece of the mantle." She smiled. "And now, your soul is returning the favor."

"Willow’s in danger?" The flame left Tara’s eyes but that didn’t mean her power was any less dangerous. She focused on Emily and the mage levitated into the air. "Why didn’t you tell me Willow was in danger? What the hell is going on?"

"Ah…" Emily hovered a few inches off the ground. "We’ve seen your rage, and know we’re seeing your protective streak." She focused her own powers and gently floated to the ground.

"Tell me," Tara pleaded. "I have to help her. What’s wrong with Willow?"

"You’re already helping her," Emily said and then sighed. "Or at least your confused soul thinks so."

"What do you mean?" Brent asked. Sometimes she wanted to just smack Emily to get information. The elderly mage liked to make every story an epic.

"You’re soulmates," Emily said slowly. "You share things. Right now, you’re completely out of balance. You have this huge amount of power, and Willow has none."

"And?" Tara asked impatiently.

"Don’t you see?" Emily asked. "You’re not carrying just your power. You’ve taken on Willow’s as well."

"No," Tara said flatly. "Willow doesn’t have this kind of power." Visions of Willow in the grips of dark magic addiction flashed through Tara’s memories.

"Do you honestly think the goddess would make one soulmate a mage and not the other?" Emily asked.

"Oh, crap." Tara sat in a chair next to the wall. "No," she insisted. "No. Willow can’t do that. She can’t handle it. It would tear her apart."

"Well, that’s damned insulting," Emily pointed out.

"No, you don’t understand," Tara said as she looked up at Emily with pleading eyes. "She’s terrified of her powers. Every time we’ve used the conception ritual she’s a nervous wreck for weeks before and after. She’s scared to death she’ll be pulled back to dark magic."

"She won’t turn back to dark magic," Emily said. "All she has to do is focus the goddess given magic she has."

"Well, that’s just fine," Tara said angrily. "Except Willow hasn’t been focusing her magic. She won’t even cast a sacred circle. She's terrified to use magic. Don’t you get it?"

"You actually allowed this?" Emily asked Brent as she turned to the elder, not quite believing it.

"Given Willow’s unique history, I thought it might be best." Brent frowned. "I’ve asked her about learning some simple spells, well, like Tara said … every time we bring it up, Willow gets rather upset."

"Fine, so you coddled her," Emily said. She paced the small office. "You coddled her, and now she’s completely out of practice. Sexual magic is specific. It won’t help control the powers of a mage. She’s going to come into these powers and she has no way to control them." She spun and put both hands on her hips. "You realize what this means, don’t you?"

"What?" Tara yelled. "Just tell me." She spun and looked at Brent. "What does it mean?"

Brent sat and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"Brent?" Tara asked.

The elder looked up at Tara, then looked over at Emily. "I have a pretty good idea what it might mean," she said.

Emily nodded, wanting Brent to continue. She knew how close the elder was to Tara, and she thought the information might come easier if it came from someone Tara loved like a mother.

"Using magic is like building any muscle," Brent said. "If you’ve never used a muscle, you won’t know how."

"So Willow doesn’t have any mage muscles. What does that mean? Why do you both look like this is the end of the world?" Tara was seconds away from panicking. Her heart wanted to run from the room and find Willow, but she had to know what Emily wasn’t telling her.

Brent sighed. "Willow has no muscles for using the powers of the goddess." She looked over at Emily. "But she does have some long dormant magical muscles, and if … when … these new powers are given to her, those are the muscles she’s going to try to flex. Those are the only muscles her body will know how to use."

"So she’ll go back to dark magic?" Tara asked desperately. "No. She won’t. Willow won’t do that."

"The amount of power will activate whatever it has to so Willow can harness it. Dark magic is a possibility," Brent said honestly.

Tara spun and looked at Emily, needing a second opinion.

"It’s a distinct possibility," Emily said grimly.

End chapter thirteen

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!