Unexpected Consequences: A Willow and Tara novel.

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... eventually

Angst Rating: Highest rating... buy stock in Kleenex

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

Unexpected Consequences

© December 2001

By Lisa Countryman

lcountry@quiknet.com

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Giles dropped Diana’s wrist to the floor and he rushed toward the couch. "Willow, you need to calm down." He could feel the malice pouring off the lithe witch.

"They did something to her." Willow voice echoed even though she was only speaking in a dangerous whisper. She wiped the blood from Tara’s nostril. "They have to pay." Her coal black eyes narrowed.

"Don’t you dare let Tara wake up with your eyes doing the dark magic thing." Buffy grabbed Willow and carried her away from the couch.

"She needs me." Willow struggled, only barely managing to stop herself from casting a spell against Buffy.

"She needs you," Buffy said in a bitter growl. "Not dark magic."

Willow was breathing heavily.

"I was in her mind," Buffy said as she took both of Willow’s hands and held them. "Tara loves you, not this crap." She nodded at Willow’s eyes. "Do you want to make her sick?"

Willow’s expression fell. "No." She shook her head as her eyes went back to normal.

"Go to her," Buffy said quietly. "But … if you ever flash your Dark Phoenix eyes around Tara again, I’ll throw you out of Sunnydale on your ass." Her voice shook with rage.

"I won’t," Willow promised. She knelt in front of the couch and caressed Tara’s pale cheek. "Baby?"

"It’s nice to know things on the hellmouth always go to … well, hell." Anya went over to Diana and studied her. "What did she say before she fried Tara?"

"It was Latin," Giles said. He looked over at the athame on the floor near Tara. He recognized it. It was Diana’s, given to her by her mother when Diana and Cassie were married.

"Well, duh." Anya rolled her eyes. "There are 1000s of Latin words, Giles. Could you narrow it down a little?"

"Something like ‘balneator.’ I think." Giles didn’t even look up.

"Balneator?" Anya frowned. "That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she call Tara a bath keeper? Tara doesn’t know anything about bath houses." She looked down at Diana and noticed that there was blood seeping through her shirt. Anya furrowed her brow, deep in thought. "You sure she didn’t say, Abalienato?"

"Possibly," Giles said absently. He moved behind the couch and looked down at Tara. "Abalienato means to transfer ownership." His eyes widened. "Dear Lord, it’s possible to transfer the mantle by…"

"By killing Tara!" Willow pressed her fingers to her lover’s throat and confirmed that she still had a pulse.

"Abalienato." Anya pulled up Diana’s blouse and nodded. "Yep. That’s what she said." Diana had a fresh incision on her side. "Only she wasn’t transferring the mantle."

Tara chose that moment to open her eyes. "Goddess, please don’t." She coughed and tried to sit up.

"Tara, honey, are you okay?" Willow wiped another drop of blood from the blonde’s lip.

"Stop her." Tara grabbed her belly and then sighed and fell back into the couch. "Why, Diana?"

"What did she do?" Willow asked. She carefully rested her hand over Tara’s.

"She healed me," Tara said with a sob. She pulled up her blouse and revealed a pale scar where her surgical incision had been.

"Wh—" Willow spun and looked over at Diana. "Buffy, we … you … are they okay?"

"What did you do to them?" Tara sat up and saw the two older witches crumpled near the wall. "Willow, you didn’t … oh, goddess, no."

"It wasn’t Willow. It was me," Buffy said as she hung her head. "I just wanted them away from you."

Tara stood up, but swayed.

"Tara!" Willow was at her side in an instant. "I thought you were better."

"I am." Tara inhaled deeply and then let out the breath in a slow sigh. "Just kinda’ woozy from the spell."

"Do you know what kind of spell it was?" Giles asked Anya. He knelt next to Diana and examined the injury.

"Light based spells are pretty straightforward." Anya rolled Cassie over and yanked up her shirt. "Oh, that explains it." She pointed at a fresh incision on Cassie’s side. "I couldn’t figure out how Diana could absorb all of Tara’s injury."

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked.

"Well, you can’t just have people taking injuries for each other," Anya complained. "Otherwise, they’d be doing it all the time. The recipe for the necessary herbs has been hidden for centuries. Plus there are other safeguards."

"And that means?" Buffy asked angrily.

"The rule of three," Tara said. "In Wicca, whatever spell you do, it comes back threefold." She got to her feet and went over to Diana. "She took my injury, but times three."

"And Cassie couldn’t let her lover do that," Willow said. "So they shared it."

"That’s still one and a half times your injury," Giles said in a concerned tone.

"W-will they be okay?" Tara asked.

"I’m not sure," Giles admitted. He blanched as he considered something else.

"What?" Willow asked. She took Tara’s hand and edged closer.

"It is difficult to perform a spell on another witch without her permission," Giles pointed out. He looked up into Tara’s eyes. "You are incredibly powerful."

"Oh, goddess." Tara dropped her head on Willow’s shoulder and began to cry. "I didn’t ask for this," she whispered.

"I know, darling." Willow held Tara gently.

"Giles, did I hurt them?" Buffy swallowed hard. She realized she had reacted emotionally. When she saw Tara in pain, she wanted to hurt Diana; in fact, she wanted to hurt her a great deal.

"I’m certain their unconsciousness has to do with the spell." Giles looked up at his Slayer and knew she was feeling guilty, so he gave her something to do. "Perhaps you could move them somewhere more comfortable?"

"I’ll put them in my bed." Buffy rushed to Diana and carefully lifted the doctor into her arms.

"What about Cassie?" Tara asked as Buffy carried Diana upstairs.

"Don’t look at me," Anya said. "I don’t do heavy lifting."

"I’ll help you." Willow moved to Giles’ side.

They carried Cassie upstairs and settled her into Buffy’s bed next to Diana. Giles stayed with the two older witches while Tara, Willow, and Buffy headed back downstairs. As they made there way past Dawn’s room, the door opened.

"What happened?" Dawn asked.

"You’re just now asking that?" Tara asked with a smirk.

"What, did demons attack?" Dawn sighed and rolled her eyes. "I hate this whole Slayer thing."

"You didn’t hear us screaming?" Willow asked. Her jaw went slack. "Not at all?"

"Headphones," Dawn explained. "Kinda got used to it, what with you two getting back together." She could see that the others were upset. "I take it … this wasn’t screaming of the witchy orgasm variety. What’s up?"

Buffy, Willow, and Tara stared with their mouths agape.

"What?" Dawn asked.

Tara turned to Willow. "Anya is officially … never … ever … baby-sitting our kids."

"Never," Willow agreed.

"Oh, please. I don’t need Anya to know what you two are doing when you’re off ‘doing spells.’" Dawn crossed her arms over her chest. "And let’s not forget that Willow’s on the witchy wagon…"

"Enough." Buffy grabbed Dawn and pushed her into her room. "You guys go … whatever. I have to tell Dawn what’s going on." The Slayer went into her sister’s room and closed the door.

"Come on," Willow said as she tugged Tara toward their room. "I want to make sure you really are healed."

"Honey, is this the best time?" Tara blushed.

"Tara!" Willow’s face turned redder than her lover’s was. "I want to look at your injuries." She cleared her throat.

"Oh…" Tara smiled and followed her lover to their room. "Why didn’t you just say so."

*****

Giles pulled a chair alongside the bed and watched Diana and Cassie. He’d known Diana for almost two decades, and he considered her a friend. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He rested his forehead in his palm. The two witches had risked their lives to give Tara a fighting chance in the challenge, and the fact that he had been so quick to doubt them weighed heavy on his mind.

"Cass?" Diana called out in a hoarse whisper. She cleared her throat and then her eyes fluttered open.

"Easy." Giles took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Cassie?" Diana asked as soon as she could focus her eyes on him.

"She’s sleeping right there next to you." He nodded to the other side of the bed.

"How’s Tara?" Diana asked as she tried to roll over to check her lover.

"Physically, she’s much improved," Giles said bitterly. "Emotionally, she’s a wreck."

"Cass?" Diana ran her hand through her lover’s hair. "Honey?" She moved her hand down and carefully lifted Cassie’s shirt. "Oh, Cassie." She swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat as she saw the tender incision. She pressed a palm to Cassie’s belly and felt the heat coming from her skin.

"How is she?" Giles inquired.

"I need my bag." Diana didn’t look at him. Her focus was on Cassie. "She’s got a nasty infection, worse than Tara’s."

"And that surprises you?" he asked angrily. "I’m sure you both knew what you were doing when you did that insipid spell."

"That insipid spell is Tara’s only chance at completing the challenge." Diana rolled over toward him. "Now, will you go get my bag? I brought everything I thought we might need."

"We’ll discuss this later," he said as he went toward the door.

"I’m sure we will." Diana let out a sigh as she probed her own incision. "And bring some ice."

*****

The van had been driving endlessly. Amy wondered why they hadn’t had to stop for gas, and she wondered how far she was from Sunnydale.

"Amy Madison of Sunnydale, California, daughter of Catherine Madison, formerly Catherine Corwin," Miss Nove said as she stared at the brunette witch.

"Yes, Miss Nove," Amy said respectfully. She was confused by Miss Nove’s questions. So far, the menacing witch had only asked about Amy’s family history.

"Do you know who Jonathan Corwin was?" Miss Nove asked politely.

"One of my great-great-great-grandfathers," Amy said. "He was a warlock in the late 1600s." She smiled, glad that she knew the answer.

The short-haired interrogator’s eyes darkened.

"Miss Nove, ma’am," Amy added quickly.

"And?" Miss Nove prompted.

"And … he was a buckle wearing pilgrim?" Amy asked.

Miss Nove raised one eyebrow. Her hands were folded in her lap, and she never moved them.

Amy screamed as pain wracked her body. She felt like she was being turned inside out and being crushed alive at the same time. As quickly as it started, the pain disappeared. Amy gasped and took in deep breaths. She wiped a trickle of drool from her lip and noticed there was a slight coppery hint of blood in her mouth. She realized she had bitten her own tongue.

Miss Nove glanced over at Quinto.

"Jonathan Corwin was one of the Magistrates appointed by Governor Phips to preside over the Salem witch trials in 1692," Quinto read from his palm computer.

"Oh, that," Amy said. "Yes, Miss Nove, he was one of the witch hunters. I’m sure he was just misguided … Miss Nove, ma’am."

"He was a member of the Witches’ Committee," Miss Nove said dangerously.

"And I’m sure he knew exactly what he was doing." Amy bit her lip. "Miss Nove."

"He was told to hold a short trial and find the accused witches innocent," Miss Nove said. "He allowed the power of his position to go to his head."

"I believe his head is still on display in the great hall," Quinto said with a smile.

"So … I take it you didn’t come to recruit me?" Amy asked. "Um, Miss Nove, ma’am," she added hastily.

Miss Nove looked at Amy as if she were still a rat, a slime covered rat that needed to be exterminated.

"I didn’t think so," Amy said under her breath.

*****

Tara tapped on the door to Buffy’s room.

"Come in," Giles said quietly.

"How are they?" Tara looked across the room, relieved to see Diana standing next to the bed leaning over Cassie.

"Diana is nursing a rather painful surgical incision, as is Cassandra," Giles explained.

"Why isn’t she awake?" Tara edged closer, only then noticing that there was an IV bag full of clear liquid hanging from the headboard behind Cassie.

"She has a severe infection," Diana said without looking up. "I’ve given her IV antibiotics and now I’m rehydrating her."

"H-has she woken up at all?" Tara edged closer.

Diana shook her head. She took a damp cloth and pressed it to Cassie’s forehead. "It’s time to wake up," she whispered as she leaned down next to her lover’s ear. "Cassandra, open your eyes."

"Why?" Tara asked in a pained voiced. "Why did you do this?"

"To give you a fighting chance." Diana’s voice was exhausted. "And, maybe, to somehow make up for calling the committee when I should have kept my mouth shut."

"But n-nothing bad happened." Tara edged closer.

"No, but it could have." Diana turned toward Tara. "They were very curious about what caused the damage. They have a team looking in to it."

"Well, there’s nothing to find, now is there?" Giles said quickly.

Diana turned back to her lover. "Cassie and I have been casting shadow spells all day, trying to mask any knowledge we have of Tara."

"Will that work?" Giles asked. He knew the committee had powerful witches whose sole duty was to uncover deceit.

"If we can stay focused." Diana picked up Cassie’s hand and kissed the back of her fingers.

"Di?" Cassie whispered.

"I’m here, sweetie." Diana’s expression came alive.

"Tara?" Cassie’s eyes fluttered open.

The young blonde moved closer, only to realize that Cassie was asking about her, not for her.

"She’s healed, Cass." Diana caressed her lover’s cheek. "We did it."

Cassie nodded and yawned. "Took a lot outa’ me." She smiled up at Diana. "How are you?"

"Better now," Diana said as she leaned down and embraced her lover.

"We should go," Giles said as he took Tara by the arm.

"Rupert?" Cassie seemed to finally notice the others. "Tara … I’m sorry. We couldn’t tell you our plans. You might have said no."

"I would have," Tara said bluntly. "You could have both been killed."

"We couldn’t send you to the challenge unprotected," Cassie said.

"So instead you risk both your lives?" Tara asked angrily. "How am I supposed to feel?"

"Perhaps we should talk after you’ve had a chance to calm down a bit," Giles suggested.

Tara gave him a motherly glare that made him stand with his back rigid and straight. He had the sudden urge to starch his collar. "Not that you need calming down," he said quickly. "It’s just, we have work to do."

Tara raised one eyebrow in silent question.

"Stop doing that," Giles said as he pulled her toward the door.

"Doing what?" Tara asked innocently.

"Looking at me like I had something to do with this." He nodded toward the two older witches. They were holding hands and whispering quiet words of devotion.

"Would you have stopped them?" Tara asked quietly.

He didn’t respond, which was all the answer Tara needed.

"I won’t have people risking their lives for me," she said angrily.

"You’ll bloody well just have to get used to it," he said as he opened the door. He looked back at the older witches. "Get some rest. We’ll talk later." He shoved Tara into the hall and gave her his most paternal glare. "We will risk our lives for you because that is what family does."

Tara swallowed with a gulp.

"Diana and I have been friends since I was a know-it-all college student just about your age." He softened his gaze. "She knows I love you like a daughter, and she couldn’t stand by and let you take the challenge while injured."

Tara smiled shyly.

"Now look what you’ve done." He sighed and rubbed his temples with both hands. "You made me blather on like an old woman."

"I love you too, Mister Giles." She touched his arm and gave it a loving squeeze. "We all do."

"Yes, well, that’s fine and good, but we have things to do." He looked like he wanted to run screaming away from the display of affection, but he stood fast. "We need to go back to the shop and begin your training tonight."

"What?" Tara looked at him with a shocked expression. His comment seemed to come out of nowhere. "We haven’t even eaten yet."

"Right," he said, as if suddenly remembering that he was hungry. "We’ll grab a quick bite and then be off to the shop."

Tara’s expression was crestfallen. She was exhausted from the earlier workout, and Buffy’s muscles had done all the work. She wondered how she’d feel after using her own muscles.

"We have a limited amount of time," he explained gently. "It’s best we start your training straight away."

"Well, can I take a nap first?" she asked with a pitiful pout.

"If I thought you’d actually sleep, I’d say yes." He raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. "Something tells me this nap would involve you, Willow, and that tempting bed the two of you share." He blushed slightly. "And given that you’ve just had a healing spell, well, you’ll soon be … energized."

"Energized?" Tara tilted her head to one side. Her eyes widened as she realized that all of the mystical energy that Cassie and Diana sent to her would soon begin invigorating all of her body’s systems. "Oh… energizing."

"Yes, and I’d rather we put that extra steam into training." He smirked as he walked away.

"Oh…" Tara followed him as they went downstairs.

*****

Miss Duas stood in front of a huge two-way mirrored window. She was watching Quinto in the next room as he led Amy inside. He pointed at a chair and then left her alone.

The door behind Miss Duas opened, and Miss Nove came in and stood silently alongside the other woman.

"Have you asked her about the mystical tear?" Miss Duas asked.

"No." Miss Nove stepped closer to the glass and studied Amy. She smiled as the nervous witch fidgeted in the other room. "And it’s completely unnerving her."

"Good." Miss Duas walked over and sat at a huge black desk. She pulled a file out of her in-box and flipped it open. "Catherine Madison was mediocre witch." She slid the file over so Miss Nove could see it. "She disappeared a few years ago. This being Sunnydale, we figured she ended up as a late night snack."

"Typical." Miss Nove rolled her eyes after scanning Catherine Madison’s family tree. She saw that it ended with Amy. "A perfectly good bloodline soiled by breeding with normals."

"What about the daughter?" Miss Duas nodded toward the other room.

"Amy has some power." Miss Nove shrugged. "But she’s been using a lot of dark magic…" She met the other woman’s gaze and held it. "Recreationally."

"What happened to the good old days when dark witches just tried to take over the world?" Miss Duas stared through the glass. She scowled in disgust as Amy chewed her fingernails nervously. "She’s a common junkie."

"Disgusting." Miss Nove looked at Amy and shuddered. "Any theories about the tear yet?" she asked.

"Apparently there was a dark magic den in the center of the destruction." Miss Duas leaned over and picked up another file. "A rather banal dealer named Rack."

"Warlock?" Miss Nove asked.

"Yes, but strictly amateur." Miss Duas nodded toward Amy. "He liked the junkies." She pushed the file to the other woman. "Especially the young pretty ones."

"I think someone didn’t approve," Miss Nove said with a wry smirk. "Maybe someone who loved one of those pretty young junkies?" She nodded toward Amy. "Nothing quite like a mother’s love."

"I’ve studied Catherine Madison’s file," Miss Duas said darkly. "She wasn’t the maternal type."

"Things change." Miss Nove studied Amy and wondered what she’d been like before she found Rack.

"Perhaps, but Catherine Madison didn’t have the power to pull this off, not without help." Miss Duas traced her finger along the file. "Rack hurt many people. We just have to find the right victim."

"Or victims," Miss Nove suggested. "That damage would have taken almost a complete coven."

"Let young Miss Madison stew in her own juices a while longer, and then find out who else was making trips to Rack’s lair." Miss Duas closed the files and tucked them into her desk. "One of them will lead us to what we want."

"Yes, ma’am." Miss Nove stared through the glass at Amy. "I won’t fail you." She glared at Amy and began devising a few new interrogation techniques. If Amy was a junkie, perhaps that was the key. She smiled as her eyes went coal black. "Maybe it’s time to give her a fix."

Miss Duas smiled and nodded her approval.

*****

Buffy was in hell. She glared at Giles, her eyes telling him that she was going to make him pay dearly.

"This really is the best method," Giles said he handed Tara a wooden training sword. He felt terrible for suggesting the technique, but it was one of the most effective, and more importantly, quickest, ways to learn sword handling.

"Okay." Tara shrugged and stood. She held the practice blade with both hands.

Willow watched from the side of the training room. She smirked as she thought about Tara’s earlier comments about pirates. Tara looked like a swashbuckler, only this swashbuckler was wearing black sweats and a white tee shirt over a deep green sports bra. Willow licked her lips as she suddenly wished Buffy and Giles would be called off for some emergency.

"Buffy?" Giles asked gently. He knew he was putting her in an awkward position, literally, given her earlier admission about Tara.

‘Sure, why not,’ Buffy thought with a grumble. She moved behind Tara and spooned the witch. ‘Gee, thank you so much, Giles,’ she thought as she glared at him over Tara’s shoulder. She grasped Tara’s hands firmly.

"Now what?" Tara asked. She shifted her weight.

Buffy almost groaned. Tara felt perfect in her arms. She was warm and soft and she smelled divine, like vanilla and some witchy herb.

"You guide Tara through the basic movements," Giles said.

"Sorry," Buffy mumbled as she snuggled closer.

"It’s okay." Tara was blushing.

"Okay … first get the feel for it." Buffy moved their joined hands in a slow figure-eight, each back-swing coming past Tara’s hips. With each swing, Buffy’s arms had to completely cross Tara’s body mimicking a lover’s embrace. "That’s good. Let the sword’s weight guide the swing. Now back up." Buffy swallowed with a gulp. Unfortunately, her mouth was completely dry. "Now to the side." Buffy began going through a simple warm-up routine.

Tara moved with Buffy, concentrating on feeling where the Slayer would take them next. "It’s like dancing." Tara smiled and relaxed, reacting to the subtle movement of Buffy’s hips pressed against her body.

"Oh! It’s like that sexy scene in ‘Dirty Dancing,’ when the two women are all snugly!" Willow giggled.

‘Kill me now,’ Buffy thought as her nipples hardened against Tara’s back.

"Only without the sexual tension," Tara said as she followed Buffy’s lead.

"Nope, no tension here," Buffy agreed. ‘Dear god, where is an apocalypse when I need one?’ she thought as a thin sheen of sweat beaded on her upper lip.

Tara bumped into Buffy and they stumbled. Buffy let go of Tara’s hands and caught her by the waist before she could fall.

"Kinda’ clumsy," Tara said with a giggle. She stepped out of Buffy’s embrace and faced the Slayer. "This isn’t working."

Relief washed through Buffy’s body. She hoped it would slow the flood between her legs. ‘Thank god,’ she thought. ‘It couldn’t have gotten any worse.’

"My arms are longer." Tara smiled and looked at Buffy expectantly. "Let me try it from behind."

Willow giggled and gave her lover a sexy leer.

Tara blushed. "The uh, sword thing, I mean."

"Sure." Buffy smiled sweetly. She ground her teeth together and shot Giles a look that would have made a lesser man wet his pants in fear.

"Okay…" Tara spooned Buffy. "Yeah, this feels better." She wrapped her hands over Buffy’s. "My arms are a lot longer."

Buffy had to agree. It did feel better. Unfortunately, having Willow’s soulmate pressed to her back was something that wasn’t supposed to feel good at all.

"Go for it," Tara whispered as she leaned her chin over Buffy’s shoulder.

It was a good thing that Buffy was a trained warrior. When Tara pressed her firm, full breasts into Buffy’s back, the Slayer almost climaxed on the spot. Years of training saved Buffy. She inhaled deeply and focused on the task. She spun the wooden blade slowly, gradually picking up speed as Tara began to get a feel for the movements.

"Good. Very good," Giles said. "I think the bonding earlier today helped a great deal."

"Let’s try the footwork," Tara suggested. Her breath was warm on Buffy’s cheek.

"Sure," Buffy squeaked. She slowly began the ancient maneuver. "Hey, you’re good at this," she commented as Tara followed her movements precisely.

"I’m used to following," Tara said shyly. "Willow’s big with the leading. She’s a Fred; I’m a Ginger."

"Huh?" Buffy tried a more difficult move and Tara compensated instantly, keeping in perfect synchrony.

"Fred Astaire," Willow explained. "Tara lets me lead and she does the Ginger Rogers deal." She smiled proudly. "Following is a lot harder. Tara’s great. She responds really quickly."

‘Shut up,’ Buffy thought grouchily. ‘I don’t want to hear about responding.’

"It’s easy," Tara said as she and Buffy spun and thrust the sword out to one side. "I just listen to her body and do what feels right."

"Uh huh." Buffy wondered what she had done in her three short lives to deserve such punishment.

"Oh…" Tara chuckled. "That sounded … um…"

"Yeah." Willow’s eyes were on fire as she watched her lover moving with Buffy. Tara was graceful and light on her feet and seeing her handle the sword was a new and erotic experience.

Buffy caught Giles’ eyes and gave him a pleading look. She was in torment … a delicious, warm, soft, curvy torment.

"All right, I think you have the basic moves." Giles cleared his throat. "Let’s have you give it try alone, shall we?"

"Yeah. I think you’re ready to fly solo." Buffy squirmed out of Tara’s embrace and went over to her workout bag and opened a water bottle. She downed the water in one long, ravenous drink.

Tara repeated the moves slowly. She was deep in concentration, and the tip of her pink tongue stuck out between her lips.

"Good." Giles circled Tara. "Elbows in," he said as he nodded. "Better."

Willow went over and leaned against the wall next to Buffy. Her eyes were pinned on Tara as she spoke to the Slayer. "You know, I never had quite this reaction to watching you train." There was a playful, dangerous tone in Willow’s voice.

"Really?" Buffy asked. She glanced at Willow and then grabbed another bottle of water. The look in Willow’s green eyes brought two words to Buffy’s mind: ‘vamp Willow.’

"Yeah, really." Willow’s voice was almost a purr. "How come we never taught Tara sword fighting before?" she asked as she licked her lips. Her eyes were devouring Tara.

‘Maybe because the universe was waiting for the perfect moment to screw with me?’ Buffy thought to herself.

Tara was sweating heavily. She paused and wiped her arm across her forehead.

"Here…" Willow grabbed a bottled water and ran to her lover. "You look … thirsty." She handed the water to Tara, but she didn’t release the bottle.

"Thanks." Tara smiled and her eyes locked with Willow’s. Their fingers overlapped sending electric jolts between them. Tara suddenly understood what Giles had meant earlier when he mentioned being energized. She pulled the bottle away and gulped down half the water.

"You’re doing remarkably well," Giles complemented. "I do believe you’re a natural."

"A sweaty natural." Tara tugged her tee shirt and looked up at Giles. "Um, I’ve seen Buffy, you know … workout in just her … you know … her workout um… top…"

"You should take that tee shirt off," Willow suggested quickly. "Cuz, you know, sports bra, not really a bra so much as sporting apparel." She licked her lips and stared at Tara’s chest.

"Certainly," Giles said slowly. He was used to Buffy’s skimpy clothing, and Tara did seem to be sweating profusely.

Buffy cringed. She looked away as Tara peeled the tee shirt off.

"That’s better." Tara used the tee shirt to dry her face.

"Much," Willow’s voice was a quiet growl. She took Tara’s shirt and held it to her chest, barely resisting the urge to sniff it. ‘I am such a perv,’ Willow thought with smirk.

Tara’s eyes dilated. She saw Willow start to lift the tee shirt to her face and suddenly the room seemed even hotter. "Okay, then," Tara said with a squeak. She took her fighting stance and cleared her throat and swung the wooden sword. She repeated the steps as she thrust and pivoted around the training room.

‘Whoa, mama!’ Willow thought as she watched Tara’s body flex and ripple. ‘And not in the motherly mama way. No, siree. Goddess, she looks so … yummy.’ She even babbled inside her head. She pressed her legs together as she watched Tara’s breasts strain against the spandex fabric of the bra. Willow decided she needed to buy Tara many more sports bras.

"I need to … um …" Buffy pointed to the other room as she backed away.

"Patrol?" Giles suggested quickly.

"Yes!" Buffy sighed and hurried her pace. "Patrol. Big vampires … outside in the dark…"

"Be careful." Tara paused and caught the Slayer’s eyes.

"I will," Buffy said with a gulp. She hurried through the shop.

"I thought you were training Tara?" Dawn asked from the oak desk where the young teen was doing homework.

"Gotta’ go kill things." Buffy sprinted out of the shop and then jogged off toward the nearest cemetery. "Gotta’ kill lots and lots of things." She quickened her pace and tried to push the images of Tara’s body out of her mind.

Dawn watched Buffy through the window. "Man, my sister is so weird."

Giles was a tough taskmaster. Over the next 90 minutes, he pushed Tara hard. He had her switch to a real blade soon after Buffy left, and the added weight made the complex moves even more difficult.

"All right, I do believe you’ve had enough," Giles said.

"Thank the goddess." Tara dropped to her knees and gently placed the sword on the floor and then not so gently collapsed onto the mat. "Ugh!" Tara let out a long sigh and closed her eyes. "How does Buffy do this?" Tara asked. The muscles in her arms and legs were quivering as she lay sprawled flat, looking more like roadkill than a sexy young witch.

"My poor baby." Willow sat next to Tara and rubbed a rough terrycloth towel over the blonde’s drenched back.

"Tara, Buffy is the Slayer," Giles reminded the blonde. "Her body is designed for this." He stepped closer, keeping his eyes averted as Willow began rubbing Tara’s sore back. "You did remarkably well. I’m very proud of you." He picked up the sword and held it, feeling its substantial weight.

"Ugh…" Tara groaned instead of thanking him.

"Perhaps I pushed you a bit too far," he said gently. He knelt next to her and studied her face. Her skin was glistening with sweat and she was red faced. "What you lack in strength, you most certainly make up for in resolve."

"She never quits," Willow said proudly. She straddled Tara lower back and began rubbing her shoulders.

"That feels so good." Tara groaned happily.

Giles smiled. Tara amazed him with her gentle spirit and unyielding drive. He realized she probably would have kept working as long as he asked her to. He’d have to be more cautious in the future.

"I need to take Dawn home," Giles said as he stood. "Why don’t you two stay here and call when you’re ready to come home?" He went over and put the sword down and then reached into a heavy crate. "Use the time to relax."

Tara raised one eyebrow, but she didn’t open her blue eyes.

Willow gave him a curious look.

"Here." He handed Willow a bottle of massage oil. "It has herbs to help with the soreness, but don’t get it in your eyes."

Tara let out a happy whimper.

"Or any other sensitive areas," he added as he spun and left the two alone in the training room.

"I think Giles just told you to go get a happy." Willow leaned down and kissed Tara’s shoulder.

"Honey, I couldn’t get a happy right now if it walked up and crawled into my hands." Tara groaned again.

"Well, it just might do that." Willow nibbled Tara’s ear.

Tara’s groan was slightly more sensual. "Honey … floor, me, dead on the?"

Willow poured some of the oil into her hands and rubbed her palms together. The oil heated instantly. "Oh…" Her eyes sparkled.

"What?" Tara asked without opening her eyes.

Dawn leaned into the training room. "Night, guys. See you when you get home." She trotted off before either witch could answer.

Willow stared down at Tara’s sweaty back. She waited until she heard the front door close, signaling that she and Tara were alone. "Take off your bra," she said huskily.

Tara smiled as she pushed herself up off the floor. It was difficult because her muscles were fatigued and her arms shook with the effort. She slipped off the bra and relaxed back into the mat. "Ahh." She shifted into a comfortable position.

"That’s better," Willow whispered. She pressed her hands into Tara’s aching muscles.

"Oh, goddess…" Tara said drawing the words out.

"Thought you’d like that." Willow worked the oil in with strong, loving strokes. As soon as Tara’s back was shining with the medicinal oil, Willow began gently kneading Tara’s muscles. "Wow, that’s a world class kink ya’ got there."

"You find all my kinks," Tara commented dryly.

"Well, kinks can be…" Willow bit her lip and slid her hands around Tara’s sides and brushed across the edges of her full breasts. "Nice."

Tara moaned happily.

"Might have a few kinks in front," Willow suggested innocently. "I need to be thorough."

"Really?" Tara smiled mischievously as she felt Willow lift off of her body. "And how thorough are you?" Tara rolled over, still between Willow’s legs, so that she was now looking up at her lover.

"Very." Willow settled back down. She was now straddling Tara’s hips. She reached down and took the fleshy weight of Tara’s breasts in her hands and caressed them as she playfully rocked her weight on her lover’s pelvis.

Tara’s eyes fluttered closed. She whimpered when Willow’s hand lifted away.

"Patience." Willow giggled. She put her hands back, only now they were covered with the heated oil.

Tara inhaled sharply. Her eyes shot open as her body shook.

"Did what I think just happen really happen?" Willow asked as she continued kneading Tara’s breasts.

"Oh, yeah." Tara’s eyes were full of fire.

"Really?" Willow moved her thumbs and teased both of Tara’s nipples. She smiled smugly as Tara shuddered again beneath her touch. "Oh, my." Willow knew that Tara often climaxed from stimulation to her breasts, but seldom this quickly.

Tara moaned and then took in gulps of air as a few aftershocks rocked her voluptuous frame.

"Guess I just walked right up and put a happy in your hands." Willow looked entirely pleased with herself.

"Well, not in my hands," Tara said shakily. Her moved her hands to Willow’s hips and tugged at her lover’s skirt. "But I think I can do something about that."

"I’ll just bet you can." Willow laughed as she leaned down and kissed Tara.

*****

Spike was in the cemetery waiting for the newly turned vampires to rise. He had a cigarette dangling between his lips and he was leaning against a gnarled oak tree. He heard some commotion on the far side of the cemetery so he decided to investigate. What he found brought a warm smile to his cold lips.

Buffy was fighting three vampires, but instead of staking them, she was beating the living crap out of them, or unliving, as the case may have been.

Spike leaned against a nearby crypt and watched as Buffy took out a great deal of aggression on the vampires before finally taking mercy on them and ending their suffering with a swift stake through the heart. She stood there panting, staring down at the last pile of dust.

"Looking for me?" Spike had a sly grin.

"Why, are you looking to get dusted?" she asked angrily.

"Just looks like you have some extra energy," he said as he nodded at the piles of dust.

"I’m a Slayer," she said as she glared at him. "Killing vampires is what I do."

"Something’s got you all hot and bothered." He threw his cigarette to the ground. It smoldered on the neatly clipped grass. "And … hot and bothered Slayers are what I do." He edged closer until he was almost touching her.

Buffy looked up into his dark eyes and knew what he was thinking, what he wanted to do. Her body ached and it would have been too easy to just give in and take what he was offering. She thought about Tara, and the softness of the young witch’s supple, warm body. Buffy looked up and down Spike’s strong, hard, cold frame. He was a poor substitute at best.

"No. Get away from me." She shoved him back.

"Oh, so that’s how we’re gonna’ play it." He grabbed her arm and yanked her closer. The chill from his body radiated from him as he held her against his chest. He arched into her, pressing his chest to her, a chest that held a long silent heart.

"I warned you." She grabbed him in a wristlock and flipped him onto the grassy ground. "I said no."

He looked up at her with a wry smirk. "You say no a lot, but we always end up the same way, don’t we?" He was lashing out. After comforting Buffy at the hospital, he expected her to welcome his affection. Instead, she was acting as if he had just slaughtered a bus full of nuns.

"In case you’ve forgotten, we haven’t ended up that way in quite a while." She sighed as sadness and loneliness filled her. Part of her wished she could love him.

He nodded, conceding the point, but he continued resting on the ground. "So what’s got you all in a snit?" he asked as he propped himself up on both elbows.

"Nothing," Buffy said gruffly.

"Nothing?" He sat up and crossed his lanky legs. "Now, why don’t I believe you?" He jumped to his feet and went over and studied her. He could see the lingering arousal in her eyes, just as he could smell the light hint of sweat on her skin.

"Somebody’s got your knickers in a knot," he said angrily. Jealousy flashed in his eyes. "Who?"

"Get away from me." She took several steps back. Her guilt made her paranoid, as if just looking at her would reveal the object of her attraction.

"I can smell it." He stepped closer and grabbed her by both arms. "It’s all over you like cheap perfume. You reek of it."

"You’re disgusting." She pivoted out of his grasp and backed beyond his reach.

"Let me guess…" His voice was condescending and cold. "Soldier-boy swung back by." He rolled his eyes and sighed with a bitter snort. "Guess he got enough of that jungle dry heat."

"I can’t believe I ever let you touch me." She spun and walked away.

He watched her take several steps. ‘I can’t believe you did either,’ he thought. It amazed him that her words could cut him so deeply, make his heart ache even though it hadn’t beaten in 200 years. He hated that he loved her, yet he could no more stop the love than he could start his heart beating again.

"Now wait up. No reason to run off in a huff," he said as he tried to catch up with her.

She turned and looked at him. He seemed sincere enough, but she knew in her heart that he was a demon, that the chip in his head may make him act like a human, but when it came down to it, he was a killer.

"Do you love me?" she asked plaintively.

He stepped back, surprised by the question. "Well, I bloody well tell you all the time, don’t I?" he said defensively.

She took a step closer and looked into his eyes. "Tell me," she said as she stared at his face.

He took a deep breath and looked earnestly into her eyes. "I love you," he said.

Buffy said nothing. She studied him, and after a moment she crossed her arms over her chest. "Put your vamp face on," she demanded.

"W-what?" He backed away like a skittish colt.

"You heard me. Do it." She wasn’t going to give any ground.

He paused briefly and then his face morphed into his vampiric form. He looked at her. "There, happy now?"

She stepped closer until she could she the tiny flecks of gold in his catlike eyes. "Tell me again," she said quietly.

"Tell you what?" he asked angrily. His temper was always shorter when he allowed his demonic appearance to take hold.

"Tell me you love me." Buffy waited.

He looked at her and his features started to soften back to his handsome human form.

"No." She put her hand on his chest and shoved him away. "Do it."

He reluctantly morphed back to his full vampire form and looked at her. "I love you." His eyes sparkled, but it wasn’t love; it was the look of a predator. He could smell her arousal and he wanted her. She was property, and he wanted to claim what was his.

Buffy’s newly awakened emotions overcame her. She thought about the warm sense of belonging, and happiness, and caring, and love that she had felt when she momentarily shared minds with Tara. What Spike offered wasn’t love. She turned and walked away.

"Hey, where are you going?" He trotted after her and his face returned to its human form.

"Spike, you and I are through." She didn’t even look back at him.

"What? Now you’re suddenly gonna’ be all afraid of my big bad vampire self? I’m bloody chipped, remember?" He ran alongside her feeling like a desperate fool.

"It’s not about the chip. It’s not about you. It’s about me." She continued across the manicured lawn of the cemetery.

"You’re dumping me!" he yelled indignantly.

She looked at him with a confused expression.

"You!" he yelled as he waved a hand at her. "You, with you’re ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ routine. That’s dumping 101."

"Yeah, I guess it is." She didn’t really want to hurt him. "I’m sorry, Spike. I really am," she said sincerely.

"And just what am I supposed to do?" he yelled.

"I don’t know," Buffy said honestly. "I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do." She turned and walked away leaving him stunned.

He stared at her retreating back until she disappeared out the front gate. "Bloody hell!" he screamed into the chilly night air. He stomped back toward his crypt. He’d be damned if he was going to patrol Sunnydale and kill vampires when the bitch of a Slayer had just dumped him like he was a whiny poof of a Nancy-boy poet. He heard movement under a nearby grave. He stopped and watched as a fledgling vampire clawed its was out of its grave.

The new vampire looked like he had been about 20 when he was changed. He was disoriented, not yet used to his vampire form. He staggered out of the ground. Soil fell from his body like rainwater from trees. The new vampire snarled and looked at Spike with malice and rage in his eyes.

"Welcome to the world, sonny," Spike said as he turned and walked away.

The young vampire growled and ran into the night.

"Ah, hell." Spike turned and pulled a stake from his jacket pocket and hurled it across the short distance. It impaled the escaping vampire in the back. The new vampire disappeared in a cloud of dust before ever tasting human blood.

Spike almost felt guilty, then he looked over to where he had last seen Buffy. "I really hate you," he said as he pulled his jacket closer against the cold and then headed off to look for any vampires he might have missed on his first sweep of the city.

*****

The only sound in the brightly lit room was the erratic hum of the florescent lights on the ceiling. Amy squirmed on her uncomfortable chair. She’d needed to go to the bathroom for the last hour, and now her bladder felt like it was about to burst. She felt a sharp, constant pain just below her belly. She wondered if the committee did this to all their prisoners to make them go insane. It was such a simple thing, offer Amy all the champagne she wanted in the van, and then don’t give her access to a restroom. Amy looked at the window across the room. Obviously, Miss Nove was sitting behind it, watching her squirm. Yes, it was definitely intentional.

They had positioned Amy so that she had her back to the door. It opened silently, without so much as a creak. Even the locking mechanism didn’t make a sound. Only the impatient clicking of Miss Nove’s high heels as she walked across the floor alerted Amy to the presence of the others.

Quinto made no sound when he walked. It was as if his expensive Italian loafers had been enchanted so they would absorb all sound. Not even a squeak escaped as he crossed the crisp, clean, black tile.

Miss Nove circled Amy and stood in front of her. "Did you need to use the restroom, Amy?" she asked primly.

Amy’s face lit up and she nodded eagerly, as if she’d just been offered a winning lottery ticket, and not a trip to the restroom.

"I don’t think I heard your response, Miss Madison," the older witch said coldly.

"Yes, Miss Nove. Please, ah, ma’am. I’d like to use the restroom, ma’am, Miss Nove, ma’am." Amy continued nodding.

"Mister Quinto will escort you … in a moment." Miss Nove sat on a chair across from Amy and relaxed. "Tell me, Amy … what were you doing in the alley when we first saw you this afternoon?"

Amy had to go to the bathroom. It was all her body wanted at the moment. As the pain from her bladder felt like it was reaching outward, somehow expanding into her chest, she came to a decision. Amy Madison knew some things. Miss Nove was the kind of woman who used any information for her own benefit. Information was power, and right now, information was the only thing Amy had.

Miss Nove waited as she watched Amy decide what to say. She’d give the young witch a chance to hang herself. That was always the best way.

Amy took a deep breath. Her mother, Catherine Madison, hadn’t taught many things to her daughter, but the one thing she had imparted by daily example was how to lie. When someone asked you a question, you could offer him or her a lie first, and then dole out little bits of the truth as it fitted you as soon as your questioner thought they’d trapped you. It was a dangerous gamble, but Amy was out of options.

Miss Nove had waited long enough. She raised one eyebrow and began removing her black gloves.

Amy remembered the pain those hands could inflict. "I wasn’t really doing anything, Miss Nove," Amy explained.

"Is that so?" Miss Nove asked. She handed the gloves to Quinto and waited as he folded them and placed them on the table.

Quinto went to the wall and stood ramrod straight and stared at Amy as if he were looking directly into her tarnished soul.

"I wasn’t doing anything … wrong," Amy amended. "Miss Nove, ma’am."

"Is that so?" Miss Nove asked again. She cracked her knuckles and began rubbing her thumbs over her fingertips.

The blue crackles of electricity that flickered over Miss Nove’s skin made Amy’s mouth go dry. She felt like she’d been chewing on hot sand. "I just went to see the destruction," Amy insisted. "Nothing more. I’d heard about it, and I was curious."

Miss Nove smiled and her eyes darkened as she studied Amy. "So you wouldn’t know anything about someone named Rack?" Miss Nove inquired.

Amy wanted to swallow, but she found that she had no saliva. She glanced briefly over at Mister Quinto, then back to the woman in charge. "I think I’ve heard his name, but I don’t know him."

Miss Nove never even flinched.

Amy, on the other hand, did much more than flinch. The pain that washed through Amy’s body felt like she was being torn in half. She screamed instinctively. There was no thought behind it; she simply had to release some of the anguish that was coursing through her entire frame.

After what felt like an hour, Miss Nove put her hands together onto her lap and then tilted her head to one side. "Are you quite sure you don’t know Rack?" she asked pleasantly.

"I’ve seen him a few times," Amy said. There were tears in her eyes, tears of fear and pain. "He’s into dark magic," she added in a rush. "But I don’t have any part of that. I, I don’t mess with that. I kn-know better, Miss Nove. Ma’am."

The impeccably dressed witch tilted her head to the other side. "Is that so, Amy?" She smiled like the Cheshire cat.

Amy relaxed when she saw the older woman smile, and then it hit, a pain so intense, so deep it felt as if her bones had caught fire. She screamed as soon as the pain began, and continued screaming as the agony increased with each passing second. Amy screamed even after she had no voice left, and still her mouth lay open as she pushed air over her silent vocal chords. She fell to the black tile floor and her nose ran as tears and mucus mingled on her face. Her body shook, and she was sprawled in a growing puddle of her own urine. She felt the warm release as her bladder emptied, but it quickly grew cold and the smell reminded Amy of her weakness. She wondered if this was hell, an eternity of unstoppable pain. And then, suddenly, the pain was gone, and all that was left was the blinding memory of the torment she’d endured.

Miss Nove stood over Amy. "Are you quite certain of your answer?" Miss Nove clasped her hands behind her back as she moved a few inches to avoid the spreading puddle.

Amy sobbed and crawled over to the stern woman’s feet. She hugged Miss Nove’s ankles. "Please don’t hurt me," Amy begged between sobs. "I’ll tell you anything you want. I swear. Rack was my dealer. I went to him every single night." The young witch was now crying hysterically and clutching at her captor’s legs seeking salvation. "Anything. I’ll tell you anything," Amy whimpered. "Just make it stop," she pleaded.

"It already has stopped, Amy," Miss Nove said politely. "The question now is, whether or not it’s going to start again."

Amy looked up, trying to gauge Miss Nove’s mood.

"Do you know what can stop that, Amy?" Miss Nove leaned down.

"I’ll tell you everything," Amy sobbed. "Everything you want to know. Just ask me, Miss Nove."

"Very good. That’s exactly correct." Miss Nove stood up and glanced over at her companion.

Quinto smiled and nodded toward Miss Nove. She was one of the best inquisitors on the witches’ committee, and he feared her. Like any good inquisitor, she knew how to reward a subject once they’d broken.

"Let’s get you some fresh clothes," Miss Novel said gently. "Would you like that, Amy?"

"Yes, please, Miss Nove," Amy sobbed. "Thank you, Miss Nove."

"That’s a good girl." The older woman nodded toward Quinto.

The door opened and two men came into the room. They scooped Amy off the floor.

"Bring her back to me as soon as she cleaned up." Miss Nove sighed. "In the other interview room. I don’t like the stench in this one."

They nodded and carried Amy away.

"Anything," Amy mumbled as she shuffled between the two men. "I’ll tell you anything.

Miss Nove smiled. Getting information took patience, which she had plenty of. She knew she’d have the entire truth soon, and that made the wait worth it.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Buffy and Giles sat at the living room table as Diana gave them the history of the witches’ committee. She explained that the Witches’ Committee was a relatively new organization when compared to the guardians of Brigit. The sacred guardians of Brigit had been around for as long as records had been kept. The order pre-dated the written word. By contrast, the committee of witches was a fledgling organization; it was only 2500 years old.

"Okay, if the Imbolc mage chick is so important, why would the guardians of Brigit not tell the Witches’ Committee?" Buffy asked.

"There's a great deal of bad blood between the two organizations," Diana explained. "The committee wants to do everything in the modern ways, whereas guardians of Brigit are an organization steeped in tradition. Nothing has changed in the guardians’ methods since the order's inception over thousands of years ago."

"Well, they do use telephones and other modern conveniences," Giles pointed out. "It's not as if they're living in the dark ages."

"Compared to the Witches’ Committee, they are," Diana said darkly.

"And what would that mean?" Buffy asked hesitantly.

The doctor looked at Buffy and paused briefly before answering. "In addition to being one of the most powerful mystical organizations on the face of the planet, the committee of witches is also one of the most technologically advanced," Diana explained.

"Okay, wait a minute..." Buffy rested both palms on the table. "So they get the witchy powers and the nifty gadgets? Is that what you're saying?"

"Pretty much," Diane answered.

"I want nifty gadgets," Buffy whined.

"You'll have to settle for super powers," Giles said dryly. "Some of us don't even get that."

"So what about Tara?" Buffy asked. "If she ... I mean when she defeats this challenge will the committee of witches find out about her?"

"There's no reason for them to know anything about her." Diana rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. "Once Tara completes the challenge and cleanses herself in the sacred water of Brigit, she won't have the powers of the Imbolc mage. She'll be a regular witch."

"But won't the committee still want to know about her? And make a register and stuff?" Buffy asked.

"I'm gonna' do everything in my power to make sure Tara and Willow are never registered," Diana said. She looked over Giles and he nodded.

"Both Willow and Tara have rather profound skill." Giles exhaled slowly. "Even without the mantle, Tara is a powerful witch. That's not the kind of thing we want the committee knowing," he explained.

"Why?" Buffy asked. "I mean, if Tara’s not the Imbolc mage anymore, what difference does it make?"

Giles cleared his throat. "It wasn’t too long ago that the committee of witches forced people into arranged marriages," he said quietly.

"Okay… ew!" Buffy scowled in disgust.

"My parents were the last officially arranged couple," Diana said with a smirk. "And they actually ended up falling in love."

"Yeah, and how many couples didn’t?" Buffy asked. "How many couples got married and spent their whole lives with the wrong person?"

"A great many," Diana said sadly.

"Why would they do that?" Buffy couldn’t understand anyone designing marriages of convenience, and she really couldn’t understand anyone going along with the marriages.

"To maintain the purity of the bloodline," Giles said flatly. "The committee is all about producing the strongest witches possible. They find the purest bloodlines from the most well known families, and … interbreed them."

"Okay, I’m going back to the ew," Buffy said. "Do you think they’d … wait, they don’t do that anymore, right?" Buffy’s chest tightened painfully. "It wouldn’t matter if Willow and Tara, you know…"

"I don’t think that they’d force either of them into a marriage," Diana said as she looked down at the table. "But with Willow’s dark magic history, I doubt they’d approve of her and Tara having a child together."

"You just said they don’t arrange marriages anymore," Buffy said in a panic.

"They don’t," Diana said. "But they can forbid you to have a child with someone who isn’t an acceptable genetic match." There was a bitter tone in her voice and a sorrow filled look in her eyes.

"You and Cassandra…" Giles leaned forward and took his friend’s hand. "You’re not an acceptable match, are you?"

Diana shook her head. "She’s from a Nordic family." She took a deep breath and lifted her head. There were tears in her eyes. "I’m from an Eastern European clan. The committee insists on keeping the clans segregated so the bloodlines remain pure."

"Okay, that is just sick." She clenched her hands into fists. "Besides, you’re both witches. What difference does it make?"

Giles looked over at Buffy. "A great deal, actually." He glanced at Diana and when she nodded, he continued. "The clans from Eastern Europe have traditional skills, healing like Diana, and some are warriors."

"And?" Buffy asked impatiently.

"The Nordic clan produces specialized practitioners," Giles said.

"They’re seers, like Cassie," Buffy guessed.

"Yes," Diana replied.

"I’m still not getting the big picture here." Buffy tilted her head to one side. "What difference would it make?"

"If you continue selectively breeding…" Diana said the last word distastefully. "You eventually get the most effective scryers possible. If you mixed bloodlines with different strengths, both lines are weakened." She sighed. "Any child we had would be weaker than either of us."

"So you two can’t have kids?" Buffy demanded.

"We’ve petitioned for a review," Diana said. "My powers aren’t really that strong, so we wouldn’t risk losing much from the healing tradition." She shook her head. "But Cass … she’s an incredible scryer. They don’t want to lose that ability."

"Won’t they loose it if Cassie never has kids?" Buffy pointed out. She couldn’t comprehend the misguided logic.

"Better to have a purebred line die out than let it be polluted by mongrels," Diana said bitterly.

The sound of the front door opening interrupted them.

Xander smiled as he came into the house. "I come bearing witches," he said in a jovial tone. "Limpy … sore witches," he added with a snicker.

Buffy stood and turned to face the door just as Tara limped into the house. That was no surprise, but when Willow came inside limping gingerly, Buffy raised one eyebrow. The redhead had a pained expression as she squirmed from foot to foot.

"Diana, how’s Cassie?" Tara asked as soon as she saw the doctor.

"She’s doing much better." Diana smiled. "Thank you."

Giles raised both eyebrows as he studied Willow. "I did warn you," he said with a knowing smirk.

Willow’s face turned as red as a fire engine. "I’m gonna’ go grab a shower." She cleared her throat and nodded upstairs.

"That’s a good idea." Tara took her lover’s hand and moved toward the staircase. "I have to get all this oil off."

Willow nodded and they limped up the stairs.

As soon as the two young witches were out of sight, Xander sighed dramatically. "Okay, if Tara’s the one who did the big workout, why is Willow limping too?"

"Why didn’t you ask them?" Diana nodded toward the stairs and smiled sweetly.

"I did," Xander whined. "All I got was that guilty look as they both blushed. Then Willow got all ‘how’s the wedding?’ on me." He shivered. "Yikes."

"Perhaps Tara showed Willow a few of her sword routines after we left," Giles suggested delicately.

"Oh, she showed her some moves, all right." Xander’s eyes glazed over. "And they had that smelly herb oil too. Did you see how shiny they were?"

Buffy folded her arms over her chest and glared at Giles. "You gave them my oil?"

"Tara was quite fatigued," Giles pointed out. "Her muscles were sore."

"She still looks pretty sore," Diana commented with a smirk. "And that doesn’t explain what happened to Willow."

"And it won’t," Giles said. He gave his old friend a pointed glare. The matter was closed. "Now, about the committee…"

Xander rolled his eyes, but he sat next to Buffy and gave Giles his full attention.

Upstairs, Willow undressed quickly and climbed into the shower. Tara was still taking off her shoes.

"How are you doing, Will?" Tara slipped out of her sweats.

The shower curtain yanked back and Willow leaned out indignantly. "Um … how do you think I am?" she asked.

"I’m really sorry," Tara said as Willow pulled the curtain shut. "Do you need any help?"

"I think I had enough help already," Willow said over the spray of the shower.

"Honey, you know it was an accident." Tara looked over at the shower curtain and bit her lip. She had to hold back a giggle. "And Giles did warn you … I mean us."

The curtain whipped open as the hook rings clinked loudly. "I did not get the oil in any sensitive areas." She stared at her lover. "But you … miss grabby hands…" She cleared her throat. "Grabby oily hands." Willow’s words sounded angry, but she was smiling. She rolled her eyes and pulled the curtain further open. "Well, you are coming in, aren’t you?" she asked.

Water splashed onto the floor as Tara finished undressing.

"I mean, you did get me into this mess," Willow said as she watched Tara undress.

"And I’ll be glad to get you out of it," Tara promised as she climbed into the shower.

The two witches giggled as the water splashed onto their faces.

"You okay, baby?" Tara hugged Willow. She felt awful about accidentally getting the oil onto some delicate areas of Willow’s body.

"Yeah." Willow leaned into her lover’s embrace. "Just stung a little, but as soon as I rinsed off, it stopped." It had been an uncomfortable ride back to the house, but now that the oil was rinsed away, she felt much better.

Downstairs, Xander was still trying to figure out what exactly had happened to Willow. Giles was not giving out any information.

"I told you, that subject is off limits." Giles sighed in exasperation.

Just as Xander was about to bring up that he and Giles were the only two men in the Scooby gang, and that the Watcher should show some gender loyalty, there was a knock at the front door.

Diana was putting her bag into the closet. Since she was close to the door, she answered it. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of the bizarre visitor. After a brief, whispered exchange, she turned toward the others.

"Um, there’s something here to see you," Diana said slowly. "Your friend … with the skin condition?"

"Clem?" Buffy stood and went to the door and smiled at the friendly demon. He was one of Spike’s kitten poker friends, and other than his tendency to gamble using small felines as chips, he seemed to be a nice enough creature. "Hey," Buffy said in greeting. "Sorry, no poker tonight."

He didn’t even smile, which was unusual for the amiable demon. His eyes darted from side to side and then he looked back toward the street briefly. "I didn’t come to play poker," he said quietly and then motioned for Buffy to come outside.

"What is it?" Buffy moved toward him.

"The witches’ committee," he whispered.

"What about them?" Diana demanded. She rushed forward, spooking Clem.

"They’re in town," the shy demon said as he backed away.

"We knew that." Buffy rested a hand on Clem’s squishy shoulder. She started to pull him inside.

"They’re asking questions." He looked frightened.

"Who are they asking?" Buffy grabbed his arm and yanked him toward the house, but he didn’t move. She looked at him with a surprised expression. He was much denser than his Jabba the Hut physique would suggest.

"You need to come to my car," he said quietly, completely ignoring that she had used her Slayer strength to no avail.

"Why?" Diana asked.

"They’ve been grabbing up everyone and questioning them," Clem responded. "I barely got Spike away from them."

Buffy ran toward the street. She saw a van and knew it had to be Clem’s. It was a 1969 Volkswagen van, painted pea green, with faded flowers and clouds covering it’s beaten frame. The paint was flaky, but the paint was obviously original.

Clem ran alongside Buffy. As soon as they reached the van, he pulled open the back door.

Buffy may have just broken up with Spike, but she didn’t wish him any harm. When Clem opened the door, Buffy felt her stomach lurch and she tasted bile as her stomach almost emptied. Spike had been tortured severely. It was much worse than when Glory had beaten him to within an inch of his undead life.

"What happened?" Buffy reached down to put her hand on Spike, then realized that there didn’t seem to be any part of him that wasn’t injured and raw.

Spike’s eyes were swollen shut and Buffy wasn’t sure if he was even conscious.

"Didn’t tell them anything," Spike whispered hoarsely. He tried to lick his swollen lips.

"Let’s get him inside," Buffy said. She and Clem scooped Spike up and rushed him into the house.

Diana stared in disbelief. "How can he still be alive?" she asked.

"I’m not alive," Spike whispered groggily. His shirt was gone and every inch of his exposed skin was blistered into raw, open ulcers. What little skin was visible was bruised deep into the muscle.

Diana looked over at Giles and the Watcher nodded. She started toward her medical bag, but then paused. She wasn’t sure how to help an injured vampire.

"What did they do to you?" Buffy asked gently.

Spike licked his lip and coughed weakly, but even that slight movement made him grimace in pain. He tried to open his eyes, but they were swollen shut. He took a deep breath and managed to force one eye partially open so he could look up at Buffy. "Holy water," was all he could say.

She reached for his hand but stopped when she realized that the skin was completely burned away. She’d seen holy water scald vampires, but she’d never imagined the extent of damage it could cause. She thought that they’d dipped his hand into a bucket of the sacred water, but as soon as Spike opened his hand, she knew that wasn’t correct. The skin on his palm was intact except for the familiar burn in the shape of a crucifix.

Xander blanched. He had the weakest stomach of the Scoobies. " I should go call Anya," he said as he bolted from the room. "Make sure she closed the shop up safely."

Diana stared down at Spike and shook her head. "I have no idea what to do," she stammered.

"Get some blood." Buffy glanced over at Giles. "In the fridge, in the back. There’s a cardboard box."

"Of course," Giles said as he rushed off.

"How are you gonna’ give it to him?" Diana asked. "Should I get an IV?"

Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"Oh…" Diana suddenly understood. She looked toward the kitchen. "It’s not human, is it?"

"No. It’s pig’s blood." Buffy looked at Spike and cringed at the damage to his pale skin. "We keep it here for Spike. He helps us."

"Maybe I should clean those wounds," Diana offered. She studied the oozing blisters covering Spike’s chest.

Spike shook his head as he tried to open both eyes. "Won’t help," he said. He gave Buffy a half smile and glanced down at his beaten body. "Didn’t tell ‘em a thing, pet," he said quietly.

"What did they want?" Buffy asked, though she knew the answer.

"Askin’ about witches," Spike said. "Something to do with Rack’s place. I figured whatever happened there, you wouldn’t want those nasties knowing Red used to spend time there."

Buffy nodded gratefully.

Giles came back into the room carrying a large glass of blood. "I heated it in the microwave." He held it out to Spike.

The vampire looked at the glass and shook his head. He couldn’t pick it up because both of his hands were so badly damaged.

"Help me sit him up," Buffy said. She and Diana eased Spike upright and then the Slayer held the glass while Spike took a tentative sip.

After a few swallows, Spike pulled back and shook his head. "They did quite a number on me," he admitted. "Don’t really feel much like eating."

"How did they know to question you?" Diana asked.

Spike smiled, causing one of the splits on his lip to open again, though no blood flowed since he was dead. "I swung by that deserted section of town to check things out," Spike explained. "I saw some government types, real men in black, poking around." He sighed. "Before I even had time to wonder who they were, a couple of them grabbed me from behind. Never even heard them," he added in a disgusted tone.

"They can translocate," Diana said sympathetically. "Many of the lower level commando witches can see you and then appear behind you in the blink of an eye. It’s useful in battle."

"I thought they might be Initiative goons," Spike said. He nodded toward Buffy and then took a sip of blood when she lifted the glass to his lips. "They had gadgets," he said as soon as Buffy pulled the glass away. "I figured out they were witches pretty soon."

"How?" Giles asked.

"The magical torture was big clue," Spike said wryly. "Plus, they seemed to enjoy using the holy water and crosses."

"How did they know to question you?" Buffy asked.

"I wasn’t the only one." Spike sighed and looked up at Clem. He nodded in thanks. "They rounded up any demons they could find." He caught Buffy’s gaze. "From the number of dust piles in that warehouse, I don’t think you’ll need to patrol for a few weeks."

Clem cleared his throat and nodded toward the door. "We should probably be leaving. I don’t think they’re very happy I took him outta’ there."

"And just how did you manage that?" Diana asked suspiciously. She looked at Clem. He didn’t look like he could hurt a flea. She couldn’t imagine him being fast, graceful, or dangerous.

Clem smiled enigmatically and then disappeared. A split second later he reappeared behind Diana. "I’m faster than I look." He shrugged.

"I owe ol’ Clem there quite a few prime tabbies," Spike said as he smiled at his friend. "He scooped me up and translocated us outta’ that mess."

"I saw them grab several other demons," Clem explained. He nodded toward the door. "I knew there was trouble, and when I saw Spike, I had to do something." He frowned. "I’m pretty sure they put trackers on us."

"So of course, you brought them here?" Giles asked angrily.

"We had to warn you," Spike explained.

"And I used a masking charm," Clem said shyly. "I’ve had it since 73. A sweet little witch enchanted my van."

"Clem and I can take off." Spike leaned forward. "Can’t risk bringing them here."

"Is there anything we can do to help him heal?" Diana asked Buffy. She didn’t like speaking to a vampire, no matter how helpful he seemed.

Buffy looked down at the massive damage. It looked horribly painful, but from what she could tell, it didn’t appear to be more than skin deep. She shook her head.

"I guess that makes Clem and I the bait," Spike said as he climbed to his feet. "We’ll give ‘em a good chase."

"Don’t try to fight them," Buffy warned. "Just run."

"Believe me, I have no intention of taking on those nasties anytime soon." Spike cringed.

"Why didn’t you just transport him in here instead of having Buffy carry him?" Diana asked as she watched Clem helping Spike toward the door.

"It takes a lot out of me to translocate another person." Clem smiled. "It’s not something I’m used to doing."

"Yeah, he’s used to translocating cards," Spike joked with a smirk. "Cheating bugger."

"I would never cheat." Clem blushed, his floppy skin turning bright pink.

"Well, let’s get you on your way," Diana said. She and Buffy helped Spike head outside and to the van.

"You’ll need this." Giles handed Spike a carton of blood. "To get your strength back up."

Spike nodded and climbed into the passenger seat.

As soon as the van disappeared around the corner, everyone went back into the house. Diana began to pace.

"We need to leave town," Diana said. "Now."

And so it was decided, with that one statement from Diana. She knew the Witches’ Committee better than anyone. She knew what they were capable of, and most of all, she knew that the committee would find Tara if they all stayed in Sunnydale.

The Scoobies regrouped quickly. Most of them piled into Cassie’s mini van. It was an unlikely getaway vehicle, but it worked. Anya and Xander followed in their car.

They rode in silence as Giles drove the van out of town. They went through the dessert and then into the hills that backed up against then ocean. Tara and Willow stretched out across the back seat of the van. Both witches were exhausted, and they took comfort in the closeness they shared. Tara was resting with her head in Willow’s lap. Her feet were tucked up resting across Dawn’s lap. The young teen didn’t mind. She loved Tara like a second mother. Dawn leaned against the window and tried to sleep.

Tara was exhausted from her earlier workout. She slept fitfully with her face pressed to Willow’s thighs.

The redhead did her best to comfort her lover so Tara could get some rest; she would need it. Willow studied the blonde and smiled. She’d missed the way Tara clung to her while she slept. Tara murmured, and Willow reacted instantly.

"Shh," Willow whispered as she ran her fingers through Tara’s hair. "It’s okay, baby. Go back to sleep," she said in the darkness of the vehicle.

Buffy twisted around and looked over the seats at Tara. Even in the dim moonlight coming through the windows she could make out Tara’s classic features.

Willow caught the Slayer looking and she smiled at her friend. She had no idea what was going through Buffy’s mind.

Buffy turned around and stared out the front window as Giles drove into the night.

Diana and Cassie were sitting in the center bench seat. Cassie was sleeping on Diana’s lap, much the way Tara was sprawled across Willow.

"Is she gonna’ be okay away from the hospital?" Buffy whispered to Giles.

The Watcher glanced in the rear view mirror and then looked over at Buffy as he continued down the highway. "Diana packed plenty of antibiotics," he said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

"What if she needs a hospital?" Buffy asked.

"Cassandra didn’t seem to think she’d need that." Giles stared at the road in front of him. There were no other cars anywhere in sight as they headed deeper into the mountains.

"So where is this place?" Buffy asked after watching dozens of trees blurring by.

"Apparently, one of Diana’s clients has a cabin," Giles said.

"One of her witch clients?" Buffy didn’t like that idea.

"I don’t believe so." Giles furrowed his brow.

"So we’re heading along the PCH? Out toward where the guardians of Brigit live?" Buffy had a knot in her stomach the size of a large cat, and it felt like it had claws as well.

"We are heading in that general direction," he agreed. "But we’re not anywhere near the actual retreat."

"So … any chance of them surprising us and dealing with Tara now?" Buffy asked pointedly.

"No," Giles said with complete certainty. "We haven’t even contacted them yet."

"When are you planning on doing that?" Buffy didn’t want any surprises.

"As soon as we’ve settled in at the cabin … and Tara gets a bit further along in her training." Giles cleared his throat. "I’ll contact a woman I know that has some ties with the guardians.

Buffy nodded. She was quiet for several minutes. She leaned against the car door trying to find a comfortable position, but then finally gave up. "Are we there yet?" she whined quietly.

"No." Giles gave her a slight smile.

Half an hour later they arrived. The cabin was set back several miles from the main road. It was tucked in between a grove of tall pine trees and a rocky, steep hillside. There was a meadow off to one end that seemed to run on for miles. The moonlight reflected off of the short grass and it shimmered in the slight breeze like an ocean of green.

They carried their things inside and everyone settled in for the night. The cabin only had two bedrooms, which were quickly assigned. Diana and Cassie were given the biggest room, so that Cassandra could recuperate. There was an extra bed in the room, and Giles offered to stay to help monitor Cassie’s recovery. The second bedroom had two queen-sized beds. Willow and Tara took one, and Dawn and Buffy took the other. That left Xander and Anya to sleep in the fold-out couch in the living room. Anya liked the beautiful view of the meadow, but she complained that it would be difficult to have sex without someone walking in on them.

As soon as they were all settled in, Giles insisted that they all go to sleep. He wanted Tara well rested so she could be up at the first sign of daybreak to begin her training sessions.

Anya was not happy with the developments at all. She and Xander had been forced to gather groceries while the others had packed the van.

"Just because I’m the shopkeeper, that doesn’t mean I have to do all the shopping," Anya complained as she and Xander settled down for the night.

"You should take it as a complement." Xander punched his pillow trying to get the lumps out of it. "They trusted you to get the best price. Besides," he said with a smile. "You get to pick out all the food."

"Yes, and do all the manual labor," Anya pointed out.

"Um, hello? I seem to remember carrying all those groceries to the car myself," he pointed out.

"Yes, but I had to do the picking out." Anya pouted. "You may have pushed the cart and carried the bags, but I was the one that had to do all the thinking and picking out which food goes with what… and do you have any idea how hard it is to try to find enough food for all these people on such short notice?" Anya asked quickly.

"Yeah, it must have been hell picking out all those microwave dinners and pancake mix," Xander said.

"And I got fresh vegetables," Anya reminded him. "I wasn’t sure how far up in the mountains this place was. If I had packed a bunch of meat and then it spoiled on the way up here, you never would have forgiven me."

"Hey, hey, it’s okay," Xander said as he rubbed her arm in the darkness. "I’m all about the fast foods, okay? We’ll have pancakes for breakfast and it’ll all be good."

"And we’ll make Tara cook them," Anya chimed in. "She makes them into interesting shapes. She makes entrail shaped ones for me." She sighed. "She’s just so sweet."

"See? It’s all good." He hugged Anya and decided he would pass on the entrail shaped pancakes.

"Yeah," Anya agreed. She hugged Xander and sighed. "Good night," she whispered.

"Night, Ahn," he replied. He smiled. Despite all the threats, his life was good. He had Anya to love him and friends to support him. As Scooby catastrophes went, this one wasn’t that bad.

*****

It was difficult for Buffy to go to sleep with the eerie silence of the mountains. She was used to the constant sounds of the city. The mountains were unnerving with their silence, occasionally broken by some screech in the distance. Several times in the night Buffy had almost went outside in search of demons, but Tara had assured her that the sounds were only animals.

Getting a good night sleep was an unusual thing for Buffy. Normally she would work at the Double Meat Palace and then go on patrol for the rest of the evening. After she arrived home, she would need at least two showers to get the vampire dust and the smell of burgers out of her hair. Buffy slept soundly in the mountains despite the eerie calm, but by the time the sun peeked through the window, she was ready to get up; unfortunately, it was not even 6 o'clock yet.

She turned her head and looked at Dawn. Her younger sister had stolen both pillows during the night. Dawn threw one off the bed and held the other to her chest like a giant teddy bear, leaving Buffy with no pillow. The Slayer rolled over and looked across the short distance to the other bed. She suddenly wished she hadn't.

Willow and Tara were facing Buffy, and they were both sound asleep. Willow was closest to the Slayer and she looked as if nothing in the world could harm her. She had a relaxed smile kissing her lips, and her face was more serene than Buffy had ever seen it. It reminded Buffy of the Willow she had met when she first move to Sunnyvale, a Willow who didn't know about vampires, demons, and apocalypses, a Willow who had never seen things like Glory, and had never had a dark magic addiction. Buffy's eyes drifted over to Tara. The beautiful blonde was spooning Willow from behind. Tara had one arm wrapped protectively around her smaller lover. Buffy remembered the feeling of those arms from the training session. She understood why Willow looked so safe and protected, the most of all, she understood why Willow looked so completely cherished.

Tara murmured and shifted her weight slightly. She leaned forward and began placing tiny kisses along Willow's neck. Even in her sleep, her love for Willow became physical.

Willow's smile blossomed. She tugged Tara's arm closer.

Buffy wanted to turn away, but she couldn't peel her eyes away from Tara. She watched Tara inhale deeply, drawing in Willow's scent. Tara whimpered as if she were climbing out of slumber, so Buffy squinted her eyes mostly closed in a mimic of sleep. It was just in time because as Buffy was closing her eyes, Tara's fluttered open. Buffy watched secretively as Willow continued sleeping while Tara lifted her head and glanced around the room.

Tara leaned over to check the time on the clock. She peeked past Buffy at Dawn, then gave Willow her full attention again. Tara carefully untangled herself from Willow's body and then she rolled over to turn off the alarm. Willow whimpered in response. She missed Tara's arm around her.

Buffy knew the feeling.

After making sure the clock wouldn't disturb anyone, Tara went back to her position behind Willow, only this time she was resting her weight on one elbow so she could look down at her lover.

Buffy watched Tara watch Willow. It was a strange experience. Tara didn't now that Buffy was awake, and so the blond witch allowed all of her love for Willow to show on her expressive face. Normally, everyone thought they could tell how much Tara loved Willow by the look on the blonde witch's face. But they were wrong. Apparently Tara's shyness caused her to be somewhat restrained. At the moment, Tara was looking at Willow with a look of such devotion that it made Buffy's chest ache.

After a few minutes of quietly studying Willow, Tara checked the clock again and sighed. It was now 6 a.m. and she would have to wake her lover. She leaned down and began kissing Willow's ear, then her cheek, and then her eyebrow.

Willow crinkled her nose in response, not quite ready to wake up yet.

Tara went back to Willow's ear. "Time to wake up, baby," Tara whispered.

Willow inhaled deeply and then let out a forlorn sigh. "Don't wanna'," she grumbled.

Tara smiled and moved her hand further under the blanket. "You can keep sleeping if you want to," she whispered quietly. She left another kiss on Willow ear. "Go back to sleep, honey. I'll work out without you."

That got an immediate reaction from Willow. She grabbed Tara's hand and held it to her belly, and then let out a pitiful whimper.

Buffy felt like a voyeur, seeing some private ritual between the two witches, but she couldn't make herself stop watching.

"What is it, baby?" Tara asked. She snuggled down next to her lover and pressed her warm body against Willow's back.

Willow whimpered again and squeezed Tara's hand tighter.

"Honey?" Tara asked gently.

Willow wiggled her body and rolled toward Tara. She pushed the blonde away until she settled on her back, and then she pulled Tara on top of her. "I like having you here," Willow complained without opening her eyes.

"I know." Tara leaned down and kissed Willow's forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips. "Go back to sleep, and dream of me loving you."

Willow shook her head and slowly opened her eyes. It was well worth her effort. She smiled brightly as she looked up at Tara.

"What?" Tara asked shyly.

"You," Willow said. "You're so beautiful." Her eyes were full of adoration.

Tara smiled. It was a smile Buffy had never seen, and it sent an electric jolt through Buffy's body that focused between her legs.

"So?" Willow reached up and ran her hands through Tara's sleep rumbled hair. She took her time, lovingly smoothing the wild strands. "Any chance you'll be working out in that sports bra again today?" Willow asked innocently.

"Maybe..." Tara's smile became almost predatory. "But I doubt we'll have the privacy to practice like we did yesterday."

Willow smirked and moved her hand away from Tara's hair and down to the blonde's chest. She rested her palm over Tara's heart. The two witches stared at each other, literally lost in each other's eyes.

Buffy wondered what was going on, then suddenly she understood.

Tara leaned down and kissed Willow with a passion that left Buffy breathless, and she had only been watching. The Slayer wondered how Willow could possibly breathe after such an earth-shattering kiss.

When the two witches broke apart, Willow's face was flushed and her eyes were full of fire.

Buffy decided she’d been a voyeur long enough, and if she didn't interrupt soon, she'd see much more than she'd bargained for. She closed her eyes tightly and shifted on the bed and made sounds as if she were just waking up. When Buffy opened her eyes officially, she saw that Tara had moved behind Willow. Both witches were smiling innocently at the Slayer.

"Good morning," Willow said cheerfully.

"Morning," Buffy responded.

Tara smiled cryptically and raised her eyebrows in greeting. "Hey."

"We should get up," Willow said as she squeezed Tara’s hand. "And do the breakfast thing."

"Oh, yes," Tara agreed.

The two witches climbed from bed. Tara was wearing a tattered tee shirt and a pair of plaid flannel boxers. Willow paused and admired her lover’s behind as she bent down to pick up a sock. The redhead had no idea Buffy was enjoying the same view.

Breakfast was a loud and rowdy affair. Tara made pancakes, triangles for Dawn, entrail shaped for Anya, and rounds for everyone else. As soon as the meal was finished, Giles caught Tara’s attention and took her outside to begin her workout.

They went to the far side of the meadow. It was even more beautiful in the golden morning sun. Willow came along and brought a blanket and spread it out at the edge of the meadow; she had a Tara-watching picnic as her lover went through dozens of sword maneuvers.

Giles spent a few hours working alone with Tara perfecting her form, while Buffy spent some time with Dawn in the cabin. The Watcher took note of how quickly Tara was picking up the skills.

The mountain air was crisp and clean, and despite the chill in the air, Tara was sweating profusely. She hadn’t yet shed her shirt, but she was considering it. After two hours, Giles gave Tara a break while he went to the cabin to get Buffy. Tara’s progress amazed him, but he was more than a little concerned as well. He’d never seen anyone master the sword as quickly as Tara had.

He went into the cabin and found Anya and Dawn bickering in front of the television. The remote cabin had no television signal and so they were left to watch a small collection of videos. There were only two kinds: Disney tapes and old war movies. It was an interesting mix, but Diana had explained that the patient who owned the cabin was married to a military man who only watched war movies.

The argument between Anya and Dawn was not what Giles had expected. They weren’t arguing over which kind of movie to watch, just which one. Dawn wanted Peter Pan, but Anya was insisting on the Little Mermaid. Giles snuck past them as Anya began telling Dawn that she knew the actual Little Mermaid. He hurried into the kitchen so he wouldn’t get pulled into the debate.

Back at the meadow, Tara was resting with her head in Willow’s lap.

"You look pretty tired." Willow brushed Tara’s sweat dampened hair off of her face.

"Um hmm." Tara’s eyes were closed and she was enjoying Willow’s touch.

"And sweaty," Willow observed. She smiled and licked her lips. Her hand traced Tara’s hairline and then down the blonde’s neck. "Overheated even." She rubbed the back of Tara’s neck to loosen the tired muscles.

"Um hmm." Tara smirked. She knew what Willow was hinting at, but she’d make her lover say it.

"So, I mean, the hot sun overhead … no breeze … you working with the heavy sword…" Willow moved her hand down and tugged up Tara’s shirt and rubbed her lover’s belly.

"Umm." Tara practically purred under Willow’s touch.

"So, you wanna’ take off this sweaty shirt?" Willow asked coyly.

"Do you want me to?" Tara asked with a mischievous smirk.

"Well, I just want you to be comfortable," Willow said unconvincingly. She edged the shirt higher and almost growled. She pressed her palm to Tara’s stomach and slowly moved her hand higher. "Oh, yeah," Willow said as she cupped Tara’s breast. "This hot shirt has got to go."

Tara giggled and opened her eyes. "Of course, this is just so I’ll be cooler," Tara said with a twinkle in her blue eyes. She sat up.

"Of course," Willow said as she waggled her eyebrows.

"Giles will be back soon." Tara pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside.

"Well, he can’t expect you to workout in this hot sun with that shirt on." Willow guided Tara back onto the blanket, but she shifted out of the way so the blonde was sprawled flat on her back. "And if I get to … enjoy the view, well, that’s a bonus." Willow moved over and straddled Tara.

"I like bonuses." Tara smiled up at her lover.

"Well, good." Willow leaned down and covered Tara’s body with her own. "Just call me your bonus girl." She rested her weight on her elbows on each side of Tara’s body.

"Willow?" Tara looked up with a serious expression.

"Yeah?" Willow kept her weight on her elbows, but she used one hand to tuck some of Tara’s hair behind her ears.

"Kiss me," Tara requested breathlessly.

Willow smiled and did just that. She shifted her weight so she could get her hands onto the damp fabric of Tara’s hunter green sports bra.

"Oh, goddess, Willow." Tara turned her head to one side and gasped. "That feels so good."

"Yes, it does," Willow agreed wickedly. She leaned down and kissed her lover’s neck. "Have I told you how much I love seeing you all athletic and worked up?"

"I think you’re the one who’s worked up." Tara giggled as Willow continued kissing her throat. "Oh, Willow…" Tara smiled and let her arms fall to the blanket.

"What do you expect?" Willow asked as she nuzzled Tara’s neck. "You with the sword and the sweat and the sexy moves." She smiled dangerously and then slowly ran her tongue up Tara’s neck. She chuckled as Tara shivered.

"Honey, I’m all sweaty," Tara complained halfheartedly. Her body was heating up, and it had nothing to do with the weather.

"This is how you taste after making love to me all night long," Willow whispered. She licked Tara’s throat again, savoring the clean, salty taste of her skin.

"How long did Giles say he’d be?" Tara asked as she pulled Willow closer.

"He wanted to grab lunch," Willow reminded her lover.

"Touch me," Tara begged.

Willow edged her hand under Tara’s bra and groaned as soon as she felt Tara’s overheating flesh. She kissed the blonde with utter abandon. They rolled over so that Tara was on top of Willow.

Tara was breathing in erratic gasps. She wanted Willow. Her blue eyes met Willow’s green and she smiled.

"We can’t do that," Willow said with a giggle. "I mean, I don’t mind getting caught kissing…" She rested both hands on Tara’s hips. "But I don’t think Giles would survive catching us doing much more."

Tara’s smile widened and then she dipped her head and kissed Willow deeply.

‘Uh oh,’ Willow thought as she felt Tara’s hand slide under her shirt and cover her breast.

*****

"You’re having lunch and you aren’t even feeding Tara?" Buffy asked her Watcher.

"Willow packed a picnic for Tara." Giles looked up from his sandwich and gave Buffy a pointed stare. "I’m not unreasonable," he added in an insulted tone.

"Giles, this is me, remember?" Buffy sat next to him. "I’ve missed more meals than I can count because you wouldn’t let me stop training."

"You know, Willow could have offered me part of that picnic," Giles pointed out.

"I don’t think food was on the menu," Anya said from the sink where she was washing dishes. "And I don’t think Tara’s willing to share Willow."

"Yes, thank you, Anya." Giles cringed. "I don’t know how I survived in England without your sparkling commentary."

Buffy giggled.

"Hurry up and finish your lunch," Giles told Buffy. "I want you to spar with Tara."

"Doesn’t Tara even get a break?" Buffy asked.

"She’s been on a break for almost an hour." Giles finished his sandwich and wiped his mouth with his napkin.

"Oh." Buffy scowled.

"You were rather involved with your movie," the Watcher said with a smirk.

"She cried," Anya volunteered with a cheery smile. "Xander did too."

"Well, Old Yeller," Buffy said defensively. "He died."

"I’m sure it was quite tragic," Giles said with a smirk.

Diana came into the kitchen sniffling.

"See?" Buffy pointed at the doctor.

"Don’t tell me you’re sniveling over that movie." Giles stood and waved a hand at Diana.

"Shut up, Rupert," Diana said as she went to the cupboard for a glass.

"The dog’s an actor," Anya explained gently. "They didn’t shoot him."

"Yes, and that acting dog probably spent his life being pampered before dying of old age forty years ago," Giles added.

"What?" Anya burst into tears. "He’s … dead?" She ran from the room. "Xander, the fluffy yellow dog is dead!" she cried as she hurried away.

"Way to go, G-man," Buffy said with a smirk. "You made the vengeance demon cry."

Diana laughed as she got a glass of water.

"Well, I was trying to cheer up Diana." Giles shook his head.

"And pointing out that Old Yeller really is dead was your way of doing that?" Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"Do shut up, Buffy." Giles sighed and looked over at Diana. "How’s Cassaandra?"

"She’s feeling better." Diana cleared her throat and sat. "How’s Tara doing?"

"Quite well," Giles said darkly. He sat next to Diana.

"How well?" Diana asked. She leaned forward.

"There really is no doubt," he said quietly.

"Damn it," Diana said angrily. "I was hoping she wouldn’t pick it up."

"Wait, what are you two talking about?" Buffy tried to interrupt, but the other two ignored her.

"She’s more than picked it up." Giles took off his glasses. "She’s already displaying skill well beyond mine."

"I’m so sorry." Diana took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Um, hello? Tara learning the sword, that’s a good thing." Buffy faltered. "Isn’t it?"

Giles wiped his glasses and put them back on before turning to face Buffy. "Diana and I had hoped that by some miracle of chance, perhaps Tara wasn’t the mantle of Brigit."

"And?" Buffy was hurt that Giles hadn’t talked to her about the possiblity.

"And…" Diana said quietly. "The Imbolc mage is known for her skill with a sword. All of the previous Imbolc mages were incredible fighters with the blade, but they spent years training."

"There is some literature suggesting that the skill might have been part of the mantle, and not a skill acquired by training," Giles added.

"So Tara has a good chance at beating the challenge." Buffy smiled. "This is good news."

"Buffy, all of the other Imbolc mages who faced the challenge had trained with swords for years." Giles rubbed the back of his neck trying to relax his muscles. "They were all cut to ribbons before finishing the first part of the challenge."

"Then what are we doing in here?" Buffy stood. "Let’s get sparring."

"Of course." Giles stood and gave Buffy a reassuring smile. His eyes reflected the fear in his heart. "I’m sure none of the past mages had a Slayer to train with."

Diana nodded. "I’m sure that will make the difference." She looked down at the table, unable to look at Buffy while she said the blatant lie.

*****

Miss Duas paced her office as she studied Miss Nove’s report. She read the top page again and shook her head before turning toward her subordinate. She tossed the file into Miss Nove’s lap. "She’s lying."

"I broke her," Miss Nove said flatly. "She can’t lie to me."

"One witch couldn’t have done this." Miss Duas pointed to a stack of photos from Rack’s lair. She shook her head. She had expected better from Miss Nove.

"Begging your pardon, Miss Duas…" Miss Nove smiled and nodded toward the report in her boss’ hands. "But did you read the entire report?"

Miss Duas sighed and flipped open the report and scanned the few remaining pages. As the regional coordinator, she oversaw many missions, and she hated sloppiness. When she had been a field agent, she hadn’t made mistakes. Her eyes widened when she got to the bottom of the next page. She flipped to the next section and her heart pounded.

She looked up at Miss Nove. "This witch was able to do physical battle while translocating?"

"That’s what Amy said." Miss Nove smiled. "And she was able to cast while in her animal form." She walked to the desk and picked up one of the photos. "The destruction was completely contained."

"One witch couldn’t harness that much energy." Miss Duas stared at the transcript of Amy’s interrogation.

"A witch couldn’t," Miss Nove said with a smile. "Not even an ordinary mage…"

"Could it be?" Miss Duas asked. She rushed to her computer and flicked it on. As soon as it booted up she opened a little used file. Her smile widened dangerously. "Call the head office."

"I already did," Miss Nove said smugly. "They dispatched a Keeper."

"Only one?" Miss Duas asked. "The Keepers haven’t handled an Instrument in 1,000 years."

"I’m sure they’ll send an entire team." Miss Nove rubbed her hands together and felt her energy crackling beneath her skin. "You know we’ll both get promotions for this?"

"Find out everything you can about this Tara Maclay." Miss Duas frowned. "I don’t want any surprises. I want to know how an Imbolc mage could have been spawned without us knowing she was coming."

"I have a team on it," Miss Nove replied. "By the time we find her, we’ll know what she had for breakfast every morning since the day she was born."

"Find?" Miss Duas spun and glared at the other witch. "Find?" she yelled.

"Yes, well, she and her friends seem to have left town." Miss Nove shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"You activated the Keeper without knowing where the Instrument was?" Miss Duas’ eyes turned yellow. The pupils were horizontal slits like a snake’s.

"She can’t have gone far. She was injured." Miss Nove’s upper lip twitched.

Miss Duas narrowed her yellow eyes.

"It was a mistake," Miss Nove said insistently. "Besides, I’ve got our best trackers on her. That much power can’t hide." She was terrified.

"Mistakes do happen," Miss Duas said quietly. Her gaze hardened.

"No…" Miss Nove shook her head and then her eyes bulged. She grabbed her throat as black foam oozed from her nose and mouth.

"But mistakes don’t happen on my watch." Miss Duas watched Miss Nove drop to her knees.

Miss Nove’s eyes went black as she tried to summon enough power to break her superior’s spell, but it was hopeless. The black ooze made her gag. She pitched forward and retched as the foam continued pouring from her mouth and nose.

"That foam is what’s left of your internal organs," Miss Duas said politely. "Pity. With that promotion, you would have gotten a new Mercedes and the key to the executive gym." She went to her desk and flipped through Amy’s file. "Well, now, Miss Madison, let’s see what other clues you’ve got for me." She stepped over Miss Nove’s body and headed for the hall. As she passed the guard in the hall she nodded toward her office. "Call maintenance. I need a cleaning crew and a new carpet."

"Yes, Miss Duas," the tall male witch said with a dip of his head.

"And get me a tracking team." Miss Duas continued down the hall. "I’m taking over this mission."

"Yes, ma’am," the male witch said. He swallowed hard. Miss Duas hadn’t led a mission in over six years, and her last mission had ended with a dozen rogue witches disemboweled. She was known for her brutality, but she had never had an unsuccessful mission.

End Part Fifteen

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