Tempus Fugit S7 by leavethesky

Part III

Willow smiled again at the laptop screen. Even though she had spent the past two hours searching in vain for anything about the object in the box, she still felt somehow victorious. She was useful again. She was a Scooby. Even if it was a bit strange that the Slayer had suddenly decided to trust her with something this dangerous. Not gonna dwell on that. Moving forward…

But there was still the box, or more importantly, its contents. It had taken her over ten minutes to get the nerve up to open it only to find that it didn't contain a boobytrap or a doomsday device that began counting down as soon as the top was lifted. Inside was an innocuous-looking, beautifully crafted metal object resting in black velvet. A series of small stars was etched into its otherwise seamless surface, but their arrangement seemed random. Not a constellation, or at least not one I recognize, which brought Willow's thoughts back to Tara and her universe of unique constellations. Well, if you close one eye it could be the Big Pineapple, she smiled wistfully and then shook her head as her eyes began to tear up. There was something compelling about those stars, something familiar and sad…

Okay, not gonna go there right now.

Forward Rosenburg …or diagonal maybe.

When she finished the minor tweaks to the search bot she fired off an email to Giles about their situation and was surprised to receive an autoresponder reporting that the Watcher was 'out of the office' until the end of the month. An autoresponder? From Giles? It was inconceivable from a man who took such pride in despising all things digital. It had taken Willow nearly two hours to show him how to simply open the email client. Another three to teach him to send and retrieve mail.

"Giles, you sneaky…." What would make the Watcher go AWOL now when he knew she needed him? A rueful smile played across her lips. Because she needed him. And so did Buffy. The Slayer would undoubtedly try to contact the Watcher for a second opinion on the situation. An opinion other than Willow's. And the Watcher was forcing their hand. Forcing them to work together again. Or maybe he's got a hot date, she thought with a chuckle. I hope you have a hot date Giles, 'cause someone in the Scoobies definitely should be getting some…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door slamming downstairs and then the unmistakable sound of the Slayer's angry footfalls on the stairs. Great, now what have I done?

Willow hit the key to launch her customized search bot and turned to face whatever fury the Slayer had in store for her, but Buffy stopped short at the door to Willow's room like a Vampire without an invitation. The blonde's forehead was deeply etched in angry lines. Willow took a deep breath waiting for the inevitable accusations and recriminations, but again, there was only silence.

"Buff? Are you okay?" The Slayer nodded once and gestured toward the wooden box.

"Find anything?"

Willow shook her head, her worry growing by the second. In her vast experience, a quiet Slayer was a dangerous Slayer. It was a warning sign: Hurricane Buffy ahead. "Um, no, not yet." She typed in a few more commands and turned back to the Slayer. "Did you find Dawn?"

"Uh huh." The Slayer nodded and then dropped back into her brooding, folding her arms tightly around herself.

Willow frowned at a new security feature in the Council's access codes and looked back to Buffy. She wanted to laugh and share the Council's pathetic attempts at security with her best friend, but knew she would draw at best a blank stare. So she opted for a loud, meaningful sigh instead. "Is this twenty questions? 'Cause if it is that's cool, but it would probably take less time…"

"Dawn was at Rain's house-"

"Rain? As in forty percent chance of?" Willow couldn't mask her amusement.

"Yeah, I know - Willow tree…" the Slayer almost smiled again, but immediately dropped into a terrifying frown.

"So I take it something happened?" the redhead prodded her friend gently. "Something besides your usual Summers sisters argument?"

The muscles in Buffy's jaw clenched immediately and Willow knew she was in dangerous territory. One misstep and the fury the Slayer was suppressing would be misdirected -- in her direction.

"Uh-huh."

And then she knew without any doubt the only thing that could put Buffy in such a state without actually hurting anyone. Well, except Spike.

"Faith." Willow whispered the word as if the Dark Slayer's name could somehow conjure her into the room. Felt the hissing of its soft sounds slip between them like a knife.

"Uh-huh."

"Did she hurt Dawn?" Willow asked and suddenly remembered the Dark Slayer's affectionate relationship with the younger Summers. Dawn was the only person in Buffy's world Faith hadn't attacked. Why would she try to hurt her now?

"No. No hurting. She'd never hurt Dawn….she just…" Buffy let out an angry laugh and frowned. "She said she wants to help! Do you believe that?" And suddenly, they were too close to Willow's own situation. Her own desperation and need. To be believed. To be forgiven. How ironic that she and Faith finally had something in common. Buffy, thankfully, didn't seem to see the parallel.

"Do you?" Willow asked without thinking. "Believe that?"

Buffy turned on her, mouth open, face pinched in righteous anger and Willow prepared herself for the coming storm. But it didn't arrive. The Slayer stood above her in a threatening posture, finger pointing at the redhead accusingly, but there was only confusion in her face now.

"I don't know," she mumbled softly and her face tightened again, hands falling useless to her sides. "I mean, I want…'cause even Angel's all with the forgiveness…but she's, like, the queen of the double cross and backstabbing…and she took my Mom hostage and Angel with the poison…" The Slayer threw her hands up in the air in angry frustration. "And I…" Buffy's eyes found Willow's and looked deeply into them, as if she were searching for answers hidden there. The two women remained that way, Willow forcing herself to meet the pain and fear in her best friend's hazel gaze. "I just don't know if I can ever trust her again, you know?" the Slayer finally said softly.

Willow swallowed the sob that threatened to erupt into the room, but the tears, she couldn't hold those back. They streamed down her face as she nodded once almost imperceptibly to let the Slayer know that she understood. That they were no longer talking about Faith. Buffy's eyes were tearing up as well, her bottom lip quivering as she tried to keep her grief in check. At the sight of the Slayer's tears Willow felt suddenly detached, studying the strange mix of emotions as if from a distance. It was a trick Ruth had taught her. A way to buy time before acting out her grief and pain with magic.

She noted with sadness the part of herself that wanted to rise up in angry defense of her own actions -- Buffy had stabbed Faith for Angel, why couldn't she be forgiven for wanting to avenge Tara? -- but the larger part wanted to take her longtime friend in her arms and hold her, finally give Buffy the comfort she had been searching for. She wanted to forgive her friend for not being able to forgive her.

But she couldn't. Her arms were bound to her sides by fear and grief. She couldn't touch anyone. Not since Tara…

"I'm sorry B-" Willow began, her voice hoarse with unshed tears, but she was interrupted abruptly by an insistent 'bing' from the laptop.

Both women looked up simultaneously to find the source of the intrusion.

"Um, search bot," Willow explained, wiping clumsily at the tears on her face. She turned with a mixture of regret and relief to the comfort of her laptop and away from the bright pain waiting between herself and Buffy. "It's probably nothing…" she began expecting another long list of mis-hits, but there it was. It was obvious from the keywords that someone knew what they were talking about. She clicked on the promising link and began to scan the contents of the page rapidly.

"So, is it Tiffany? Can we take it on the Antiques Roadshow?" Buffy joked nervously and Willow noted in her peripheral vision that the Slayer was carefully drying her eyes.

"Um, it's demon," she answered absently as she was drawn into the star chart that matched the strange configuration on the object almost exactly. "So, not exactly Antiques Roadshow material. Well, maybe the English version…" which elicited a grateful smile from Buffy. She returned her attention to the page and clicked on a few links. It wasn't much, but at least they had something. Her eyes returned to the object in the box and she felt the familiar feeling of sadness and longing wash over her again.

"Anything interesting?" Buffy prodded gently and Willow shook herself out of her reverie.

"Um, yeah. The stars etched into the surface. I thought they were just ornamental, but it looks like they're a constellation…" she trailed off concentrating again on the text before her.

"Like the Big Dipper?"

Willow smiled slightly and looked up at the Slayer, "Not exactly. A constellation that's only visible in a demon dimension."

"Oh. So more like the Big Ripper?"

Willow nodded, but kept her attention fixed on the page before her. It was fascinating. If this page was accurate, she was reading a legend born in a different dimension. A demon fairy tale. But for all the differences it sounded strangely familiar. She felt Buffy move behind her in the room and deduced quickly that the Slayer was checking out the demon device. It struck her suddenly that she had only been alone in this room since her return. No other living human body had shared this space with Willow since that day four months ago…

"Oh Orpheus!" Willow was shocked by her own outburst, but the realization had struck her like a thunderbolt and demanded release. "It's the Orpheus myth."

"Who?"

Willow turned to find the Slayer with her hand still in mid-air hovering over the device. "Orpheus. And no, I haven't gotten up the nerve to actually touch it yet," she answered Buffy's unspoken question. The Slayer nodded once and removed the metallic object carefully from the box.

"So who is this Orifice guy?" she asked casually.

"Um, Orpheus." Willow stifled a laugh at the Slayer's typical malapropism. It was comforting to know that some things never changed. "It's Greek mythology." When her explanation was met by a blank stare, Willow continued, "Okay, Orpheus was this superstar lyre player in ancient Greece who fell in love. Only, um, she died…his love I mean." The redhead stumbled and took a deep breath, "But he couldn't live without her, so he went to Hades, played his lyre for the big demon god in charge and Big Demon was so impressed he said that Orpheus could take her back…" Willow's voice trailed off again. The details of the legend eluded her for a moment, becoming mixed with the distorted details of the demon legend and her own experience.

"But there was a catch?" the Slayer's comment brought Willow back to the room and her explanation.

"Um, yeah."

"There's always a catch," Buffy smiled proud of her correct assessment.

"The deal was that Orpheus could have his love back, that she could follow him back to the surface, but he had to keep playing and not stop."

"That's all," Buffy asked obviously disappointed.

"Well, he also couldn't look back to make sure she was behind him," the redhead answered, careful to keep any emotion out of her voice.

"I take it he looked."

"Yep," Willow nodded once and Buffy rolled her eyes in disgust.

"Just before he got to the surface." A strange silence had descended on the room and Willow found herself automatically filling the empty space. Just like Old Willow would, she thought as the words tumbled out of her. "The last thing he saw of her, was her soul being pulled back into hell." She shivered at the image that had haunted her since childhood. For some reason her mother had decided that the myth of Orpheus was suitable bedtime reading for a nine year-old. "Gotta love those Greeks and their flair for gut-wrenching tragedy…"

"Oh my God. That's…" the Slayer began and then trailed off shaking her head.

"So sad, I know," Willow finished for her.

"No, it's so stupid!" Somehow Willow had stumbled unwittingly onto the trigger for the Slayer's pent-up fury. She was expecting the Slayer to draw a parallel between the myth and her own experience sending Angel to hell, but Buffy never did the expected. She was now pacing angrily, clenching the demon device tightly in her palm as she muttered about Xander leaving Anya at the altar and then something indecipherable about Riley.

"Um, Buffy…" Willow began, motioning carefully toward the Slayer's clenched fist. Oh god, we have no idea how this device actually works. Anything could set it off.

"I mean, what is wrong with these people? Can't they just…"

"It's just a myth," Willow interrupted gently hoping to defuse the situation automatically closing her eyes to begin one of Ruth's meditation techniques gently extending the circle of calm to include her friend. "And the device…"

"Yeah, I know it's just…" Buffy paused and removed the demon device from her iron grip. "Well, at least we know it doesn't crush easily," she offered with a smile releasing her anger with a shrug.

Willow blinked slowly and allowed herself one more cleansing breath before focusing once more on the metallic object that Buffy now held between her thumb and forefinger. "That could be a good thing…or a bad thing if we actually want to destroy this demon-end-of-the-world machine."

The Slayer studied the object carefully as she mumbled absently to her friend, "Are you sure it's a machine? 'Cause I'm not seeing any screws or seams or anything…"

Willow turned her attention back to the keyboard, quickly modifying a program to break the Council's weak security precaution. "No. I don't know what it is. So far the only clue we have is this demon myth and whatever Cordy told you." Buffy again rolled her eyes at the mention of the Seer.

"It doesn't sound like much of a demon myth to me. I mean, what kind of demon plays a liar and gets all mushy over love and…"

"I said it sounded like Orpheus. The demon version was some kind of warrior-cannibal whose love slave gets killed so he goes and defeats all of the underworld god's gladiators to get her back and…" Willow trailed off as the look on Buffy's face turned to one of focused concentration. "Did you find something?"

"Yeah," the Slayer mumbled absently and then scraped at something with her fingernail. Willow cringed visibly trying to hide her growing panic and disapproval. Delicate was never a word used to describe the Slayer and delicacy was definitely an asset when dealing with an apocalyptic demon device.

"There's something written here…" Buffy squinted and held the device closer to her face.

"Wait! I'll get a magnifying glass," she crossed the room quickly to search through her nightstand. The soft sounds of the Slayer's muttering were barely audible over the noise of her desperate search for a glass. "Um, and you might not want to hold it that close to your…"

"Oh! What does Tempus Fugit…?"

"No!" Willow practically leapt across the room to cover her best friend's mouth with her hand, but it was too late. The spell was cast. "Oh God Buffy…" As the energy coalesced around them she felt herself involuntarily reaching down into her own power to protect them or worse, to strike out against the magical charge. As the power poured out of her she felt it circling with the energy of the device in a terrifying feedback loop. Okay, this definitely has the potential to become an apocalyptic event, she had to give Cordy that much.

"Wha-" The Slayer's words were lost in the energy cyclone of the spell as it spun around then, distorting timespace and drawing them into a smaller and smaller space. Willow was rapidly losing her internal battle for control and the Slayer's panicked gaze locked with her own only made the pull stronger. Everything in her was screaming that she needed to protect them, to save Buffy. That no one else she loved could be lost. And the dark magic moved in deepening waves through her system like nausea. Like pain and grief. The riptide of magic and power pulling her farther and farther from the shore of herself until…

With sudden clarity her eyes found a small photo of Tara visible on the shelf behind Buffy's head. It was the only photo of the blonde she allowed herself. Willow had taken it at that first birthday of Tara's at the Bronze. The first birthday they had shared. Her blonde hair was tousled from a stolen moment with Willow in the bathroom. Her lips were red and swollen from kissing, but it was the smile in her eyes that mattered. That lopsided smile that was only for Willow. A smile of promise and love.

Tara.

The world spun around her, but the pull receded until there was just the two of them. Tara soothing her with gentle fingers of calm weaving through red hair, through the everything of them.

Tara…

And then the light and the heat…and nothing.

****

"Willow!"

The room was too bright, migraine-bright. She raised a heavy hand to shield her eyes from the glare.

"Wha?"

"Willow what did you do?" Blinking her eyes against terrible white, Willow tried to focus on the source of the sound. Buffy. A very angry Buffy. What did I do?

"Buffy?" she croaked and opened her eyes slightly, still struggling to orient herself. Everything seemed slightly…off. She couldn't seem to find her balance in the blinding room. Thankfully she was sitting on something soft. The bed? But the room shouldn't be bright, it was dark outside.

And then she remembered. The device, the demon myth and Buffy speaking something in Latin. And then the Dark Magic.

Tempus Fugit.

Don't say it. Don't say it out loud.

Time flies…

"What did you do Willow?" The Slayer's voice was rising in pitch moving rapidly toward angry hysteria.

"What…I didn't do anything." Willow mumbled and opened her eyes a little further.

"I saw your eyes! They went all black and then…and then we were here!"

Oh god, where are we? Some demon dimension?

Willow opened her eyes through a stabbing headache of white to find that they were in their dorm room on campus. She looked around in disbelief at the twin beds, their stuffed animals and the Chocolate Okay, this is strange. Our dorm room? Doesn't seem too demon-y yet…

Her mind began to cycle rapidly through the possibilities: demon device so I'm thinking either alternate reality where Buffy and I still live in the dorms or…this is some kind of joint hallucination…

"Undo it!"

"What?" Willow looked up to find the Slayer staring down at her with hands on hips. Everything about her posture was threatening.

"You did this Willow," the Slayer gestured at the familiar objects in the room, her voice rapidly dropping into a growl, "so make with the undoing. Now."

Willow took a long breath and tried to center herself.

"I didn't do it Buffy…" she began calmly only to be interrupted by a desperate Slayer.

"I saw your eyes…"

And that was it. She had tried for so long to win her best friend's trust. To earn it through her actions, not with explanations and promises, but this was too much.

"You did it Buffy! You! Not me!" Willow yelled and then put her hand over her eyes again to shield them from the light and her own blinding rage. Buffy still stood above her and Willow sighed deeply, "It was the device. The demon device. Remember?" Buffy's expression was still angry, but her head tilted slightly to the left.

"How…"

"The engraving on the back," Willow got up and walked past her friend to the mini-fridge. She pulled out a water, pressed its cool surface to her forehead and turned back to Buffy. "When you said the words out loud it must have activated it."

"Temp-"

"Don't!" Willow's eyes flew open and she noticed that the muscles in Buffy's jaw were knotted with pent-up fury. Well, at least if she beats me to death I won't have to deal with this migraine. Careful to keep her voice calm and low she approached the Slayer, "I wouldn't say it again. We don't know what it'll do."

"So if that's true then what was with all the black?" Buffy challenged suspiciously, but Willow noted with relief that the Slayer's shoulders were relaxed slightly. The threat had passed. Almost.

"I tried to stop it," she replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "The spell," she added as an afterthought and then began to study her surroundings. She couldn't remember exactly what was in their dorm room, but this definitely felt right. The anonymous stuffed animals on her bed, Mr. Gordo on Buffy's. And Buffy's outfit was so…freshman year. The incessant whine of a Britney Spears song was audible from next door. She looked down to find that she was dressed in a long blue skirt she'd thrown out a year ago and a favorite t-shirt that she hadn't been able to throw it out even though it was so worn as to be unwearable. Because I wore this shirt the first time Tara and I kissed…

She looked down again at the bright colors of her t-shirt.

And it looks brand new.

"Oh God," Willow looked around the room wildly, searching for something to confirm her suspicions.

"What is it?" Buffy's voice was tight with concern. "Wil what's going on? Where are we? I mean, okay, I know we're in our dorm…" All of the anger was gone from her friend's body and voice replaced now by fear.

"I don't…" Willow began and then scanned her friend's clothing before letting her eyes rest on the calendar above The Slayer's bed. She couldn't see the date, but she didn't have to, looking instead to the black bulky watch on her wrist. "I'm thinking maybe it's when we are that matters."

****

Part IV

Willow sat back down onto the twin bed, noting the familiar creak of its uncomfortable box springs. The icy cold of the water bottle was now pressed to the back of her neck alleviating some of the pain.

"I'm sorry Wil, I just….," the Slayer began, her voice low and halting.

"It's okay Buff. Really," Willow interjected hastily. She wasn't expecting an apology and she certainly wasn't prepared to have an emotional discussion right now.

"No. No it's not, I shouldn't have assumed…just because…."

Willow opened one eye slightly to find that the blonde was now sitting on the bed across from her, kneading her hands in agitation. It was such a familiar feeling, the two of them here in this room facing each other and sharing pain. But it was never pain like this. It was Riley and Oz pain. Nothing like this.

"Buffy, my eyes went all with the black, big magic ensued and we're here…" she motioned at their surroundings. "It was the logical conclusion."

The Slayer stood up and began to pace. "I just can't believe I…I mean, it never works like that with two words and poof. You usually need stinky herbs and someone has to do the hokey-pokey and…not just two little words!" She stood again facing Willow, her forehead lined and angry. "I can't believe I did this. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. Really. I think we should probably be thinking less about the blame and more about the getting the hell out of here…" the redhead trailed off wincing in pain. "Do you remember where we kept the advil-type stuff?"

Buffy immediately leapt into action, obviously glad to have something to do. As she searched through desk drawers Willow focused on another meditation technique she had learned for just this situation, concentrating on raising the temperature of her hands. As the migraine slowly eased she could hear her friend's nervous rambling through the meditation.

"Are you okay? I mean your head?" Buffy asked and extended two orange pills. Willow carefully withdrew herself from the meditation and accepted them. "Wow. Hot hands," the Slayer said with a nervous smile.

"Yeah," Willow offered with a bit more strength. "It's a trick to get rid of migraines only I don't think they had witches in mind when they came up with it," she said as she held up one glowing hand.

"Was it the magic? Your head?"

Willow nodded and then winced at the new round of stabbing pain the movement brought on. "Big magic leads to big headache," she said weakly. "But, hey, no nosebleed," she offered with a smile.

Buffy nodded once, her own smile rapidly fading replaced by the familiar expression Willow and Tara had long ago secretly dubbed Colonel Buffy.

"Okay, so we're stuck here and I'm not seeing any demon device," her eyes quickly scanned the room. "So now I'm thinking research. We could call Giles," she offered hopefully.

"Yeah." Willow offered. "But if it's a time machine, which it probably is, then we're in serious trouble."

"Why? I mean, I'm not seeing the big bad here. We figure out how to get back and do it, right?"

"Well, almost." Willow's forehead furrowed into her trademark expression of deep concentration. "Except if we're really back in the past then anything we could do could radically change the future. You know. Sensitive dependence on initial conditions, like the butterfly effect."

"Okay, you totally lost me, Wil…butterfly what?"

"Basically any small change can have a huge effect. Like a butterfly flapping its wings in the Amazon could cause a hurricane in the Caribbean." Still a blank stare. "Or, a more specific Buffy-type example would be me taking the water from the fridge could lead to something terrible. I know it sounds crazy, but what if you go looking for a water to take on patrol in a couple of days, but there isn't one because I came back in time and took it. So you go downstairs to the soda machine to get one and that takes you two minutes longer than it should have. And before, in the timeline where I didn't get back, you totally missed this huge pack of demons because you walked through too early, but now you're two minutes late so…"

Buffy was nodding her head in recognition so Willow trailed off. "Oh not good." And then it really hit her. "Oh God! Really not good!"

Willow nodded. "Yep. Really not good."

"So we've really got to get out of here."

"Yeah, but we don't even know how to do that, so until we do, we need to do everything as much like we did before as we possible can."

"How are we supposed to do that? I mean, I don't' remember what I had for breakfast." she said desperately. "Back in the real now," she finished and shook her head in confusion.

Willow moved to her backpack and fished around until she found the familiar edges of her overstuffed filofax. "Well, this should help."

"Oh, yeah," Buffy moved to her bag and pulled out her own while Willow smiled at her own resourcefulness. It was so familiar, the edges of the used pages carefully turned down in precise triangles. As she flipped through the pages she noted different events carefully color-coded in her own hand-writing: a Physics exam written in royal blue with footnotes, Oz's departure written in small black letters. She half-listened to Buffy's monologue as she mused over the filofax's contents.

"…none of this makes any sense. I mean, where are we? And where are the we that are supposed to be here in these bodies? Shouldn't we be here in our own future bodies with our own future clothes?" Willow looked up at the Slayer's off-hand remark. As usual Buffy had stumbled into an important observation. Yeah, why are we in our old bodies? "…and where is that demon thingy?" Buffy looked up suddenly. "Maybe it's at the house!"

Willow forced her mind back to the present. "I don't know. If it's not here with us, it's probably back in our own time."

"Yeah, but it could be. So we should probably check it out."

Willow nodded absently. It could be. And Buffy was action girl, she knew that. That Buffy needed to know that she was making physical progress toward her goal at all times. Besides, that would give Willow more time to think, to figure out what was going on. Because between the physics and the magic, this is going to take me a while. "Yeah, you should."

"Oh great," Buffy said with obvious disgust. "It's the twenty-seventh right?"

Willow nodded as something in the back of her mind turned over the date. Three cubed. With a shrug she turned the final pages to the day. "Yep."

"All mine says is lunch and patrol."

Willow smiled at her friend's typical lack of organization and then look down at her own sure that it would be well-ordered.

And froze. Somewhere far away she could hear the sound of pages turning and the Slayer mumbling, "every page just says 'lunch' and 'patrol'. Why did I even bother?"

But Willow couldn't even offer her usual 'uh-huh' in response. At some point in the moments since turning the page, her brain had stopped working. As if the five words 'pizza and spells with Tara?' written in enormous purple letters and outlined in pink were some kind of spell set to take away her thought and voice. She felt her body begin to shake uncontrollably.

"Wil?" Buffy's voice sounded faint and distant. "Wil what is it?" Closer now, because the Slayer's voice was rising in volume.

"Buffy," her voice broke in the middle of the word and she couldn't seem to say anything else. Like a dream, a nightmare in which her voice was gone. Like the Gentlemen.

"What happens today? Is it Adam?" Buffy had crossed the short distance to kneel next to the redhead. There was a moment during which Willow was sure she would break down completely. That she would fall sobbing to the floor and never rise, but it passed and she made her terrible, familiar way into the numb.

"It's…it's Tara." Her own voice surprised her. It sounded so normal. So controlled. But her face was wet suddenly. From tears? "This is the first time we kiss…tonight. Today."

"Oh God Wil…"

"I can't." Her voice was calm and even, but her hands were now shaking so badly she had to drop the filofax to the floor. Arms wrapped themselves tightly around her and it took her a few moments to realize that they were her own.

"It's gonna be okay." Willow felt a hand on her knee and looked down to see Buffy's well-manicured fingers gripping her tightly, but she couldn't feel it. The numbness was working its way out from her heart to her extremities. Buffy never touches me anymore.

"I can't." She repeated calmly and the arms encircling her clutched tighter.

"Wil, you just said we have to…"

She noticed the clock out of the corner of her eye. 2:30.

"It's too late. She's at the Retreat already." The robot voice continued. "When I'm not there, she'll leave."

"There's still time," Buffy said gently.

"Buffy I can-" and her voice broke again. "She's gone. She's gone and I can't…" She knew she was dangerously close to meltdown, so she closed her eyes and began to take deep breaths, lowering herself into one of Ruth's meditations. Trying to regain control. In. Out. Center. But it wasn't working. There was no center here and everything was shaking. It's about controlling that power, controlling your emotions, she heard Ruth's calm lecture over the insistent roar in her ears.

Control.

"Wil you have to," she heard Buffy say, then a knock. A soft, tentative knock on the door. Tara.

And then a long, low sound like an animal crying. Keening. It took her a few moments to realize that the sound was coming from her as she curled into herself on the bed.

"I can't…" But Buffy was already moving toward the door.

Tara's gone. This isn't real. This isn't real. She's gone and nothing can bring her…

"Oh, h-hi B-Buffy. Is, um, Willow h-here?" It was unmistakable, the soft musical sound of that voice. And Buffy's long exhale as she breathed an almost inaudible 'Tara.'

After a few long moments the Slayer cleared her throat and began speaking in a shaky voice. "Yeah, she is, but…" she didn't get the chance to finish her warning.

"What's wrong?" Tara's voice was simultaneously gentle and protective and Willow felt rather than heard her move toward her in the small room.

I can't.

"Willow?"

Tara was so close now.

If I just open my eyes I'll see her. It's not the dream.

And then the gentle pressure of Tara's hand on her shoulder. Enough pressure to release the sobs she had been holding back with every ounce of her strength. They tore through her now like an earthquake. Like dark magic.

The warm weight of Tara's hand began to move in slow circles on her upper back as she cried for what seemed like hours.

"Willow sweetie?"

Open your eyes.

It wasn't a physical act. She didn't will her eyes to open, the room simply faded from black to … Tara.

This isn't happening. This is not real.

"Tara?" the word broke apart in her mouth.

Tara's eyes were glistening with unshed tears as she looked deep into Willow's eyes.

"Is she…" she tore her eyes from Willow's to turn to Buffy, "is she h-hurt?"

Through the blur of tears she watched Buffy shake her head slightly and wipe at her own eyes. "No."

This isn't happening.

But it was and Tara was searching her face, her blue eyes filling with pain. Willow studied the familiar features, the perfect arch of the eyebrows, the beautifully sculpted planes of her cheeks and forehead. The curve and sigh of her lips. The endless blue of her eyes and that gaze that told Willow she existed. Again.

It was.

"Tara."

The sobbing stopped and Willow reached slowly through months of grief to bring her fingertips to hover just above her lover's lips. And stopped.

I can't touch her.

If I touch her now I'll never find my way back.

She could feel the heat under the sensitive pads of her fingers. Could feel Tara's warm breath moving over her own skin. And then they were touching, Tara bridging the distance between them to bring her face into contact with Willow's hands.

The familiar electricity surged through her at the contact and then the calm, Tara fusing disparate elements together like the sun.

Tara's hands were now holding her face tentatively. Delicate fingers shakily running through red hair.

She's nervous…

Because we've never done this before. Never been this close.

First kiss.

Willow traced the lines of her love's face softly, carefully. Drawing them into her memory, trying to erase the pain she saw there.

"Willow what h-happened? Is this about Oz?"

As she shook her head, she felt Tara's hand gently wipe the tears from her cheek and let out a long breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Willow tilted her head forward until their foreheads were touching. Until she could feel Tara's breath on her lips.

"I thought I lost you," she heard herself whisper shakily.

The blonde pulled back slightly to look into Willow's eyes, the world becoming a sea of Tara blue.

"Me? This is about m-me?" She could see the disbelief there, the insecurity that had always shadowed Tara. She ran a trembling hair through silken blonde hair.

"Everything's about you." She let her hand drop to the soft skin of Tara's neck feeling the strong pulse beating beneath her fingers.

Alive.

"Everything." She leaned in to press her cheek against Tara's whispering low in her ear, "Always."

And she could hear it somewhere, a small voice telling her that this was wrong. This was not the way it happened. It was wrong and dangerous and she needed to stay in control. But there was the pull and presence of Tara and she would never be strong enough. She was already falling into her orbit.

Willow slid her tear-slicked cheek against Tara's and felt the blonde whimper in response.

"Willow?" That familiar catch in Tara's voice that spoke to a place Willow thought she had buried months ago.

"Oh God, Tara…" She lost herself in the overwhelming smell of her, the impossible feel of her hair against skin and lips. Ran her fingers over the exquisite smooth of her neck.

This isn't right.

I don't care.

Willow pulled back slightly to whisper again in Tara's ear, surrounded by jasmine and sandalwood and everything Tara. The world was liquid again. "I think I'm going to kiss you," she whispered softly and heard the blonde swallow. "Okay?"

I can't.

She felt the almost imperceptible nod and closed her eyes feeling her way back, sliding her cheek against the heat and flush of Tara's. Until their lips were that close.

This isn't real.

She was shivering now uncontrollably as she let her hands slide once more to Tara's neck to feel the jump and pull of her pulse just under the skin. To reassure herself.

Real.

Willow moved forward slowly feeling the heat between them grow exponentially until her lips finally brushed softly against Tara's and the shaking stopped. Everything stopped. And it was the first kiss. Awkward and tentative and full of promise. Tara's lips parted slightly and she heard the whimper, felt the sigh as she took the blonde's full bottom lip between her own and moaned. Slipping one reality over another, tracing memories over in her mind, everything coming back in waves of taste, smell and feeling. But it was never this good, never this…perfect. Because if it had been she would have died in that room with Tara…

Maybe she did.

As the thought crossed her mind, Willow pulled back slowly to open her eyes. To make sure.

Tara.

Yes.

Golden and glowing with her mouth slightly open, her eyes closed still lost in the kiss.

"You're so beautiful."

Deep blue eyes opened slowly, heavy-lidded as a lop-sided smile formed on perfect lips.

"You are." Tara stated simply and then lowered her eyes, shaking her head slightly. "I never thought this w-would happen."

"Neither did I," Willow said and smiled for the first time, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of gold behind Tara's ear.

Clear blue eyes found green again and held them steady. "Can we…again?"

Yes. Always. Everything.

Willow leaned in slowly to bring her lips to Tara's again. Slow Willow. Slow. This is a first kiss, not a first…everything. And this is shy, sweet Tara. Pre-vixen Tara. So… slow.

She took a deep breath to steady herself, because she wanted everything now. To climb inside Tara and forget it all. Or remember.

But slow.

Bringing her lips to Tara's in another delicate kiss, she was surprised to feel the blonde's tongue trace her own in a warm wet line. She opened her mouth and the touch of Tara's tongue was an incredible relief. It had taken all of her strength to keep her in that other world without Tara, without this. The kiss deepened, and she was winding her fingers through blonde hair, surprised by Tara's reaction. They had taken things slow in the beginning. Light kisses and hand-holding. Willow wouldn't even take her shirt off for weeks, embarrassed of her body.

But she could feel the blonde's desire racing to match her own, building the thing between them with blinding speed. She knew the deep blue of Tara's eyes with absolute certainty. It meant love and desire. It was the moon that followed her at night.

And that was a problem because that voice was telling her that it was too fast, too much for the blonde witch.

This isn't how it happened! Not at all. Slow down.

Willow pulled back carefully gasping for air quickly noticing that Tara's chest was heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry Tare," she managed finally. "I don't want to rush you."

Tara's mouth curved immediately into a stunning smile, her eyes dancing over Willow's with mischief.

"Um, you c-couldn't…rush me Willow," and then rolled her eyes in amusement and embarrassment. "K-kind of an impossibility."

Willow just stared at the blonde in disbelief for long seconds. They had taken it so slow, been so careful not to rush things. And then she understood with blinding clarity. Tara had held all of this back for her.

"You mean?"

"I mean," Tara affirmed softly and then blushed. "Unless you d-don't want to."

This isn't how it happened. This is wrong.

She paused again, thinking of the future that wasn't set. The infinite possibilities spilling out in front of her. Then it hit her, what if this is the last time I ever see her?

I can't.

Stop.

Everything is new. I'm rewriting the past. With Tara.

Starting right now.

Willow held Tara's blue eyes with her own and pulled the pink t-shirt over her own head watching carefully as the blonde blinked slowly once and then swallowed.

"Is this r-real because…" Tara began and then stopped as Willow's hand closed over her own. She moved toward the blonde slowly, raising Tara's hand and placing it over her own breast as their lips met. They both groaned simultaneously as Tara deepened the kiss turning the room into a furnace. Burning everything away.

Willow brought her hands to the front of Tara's shirt to find what she had hoped for - buttons. Thank god! Because she couldn't imagine tearing her mouth away from Tara's to get the shirt over her head. She fumbled the top two buttons open and finally broke the kiss to bring her mouth to the perfect skin of Tara's neck and chest. She felt as much as heard the blonde groan again and continued to work the buttons open as she ran her tongue over Tara's neck to trace the outline of her ear. But Tara stiffened suddenly and Willow froze.

"I'm sorry…too fast?" Willow mumbled, pulling back immediately

"No! N-not too fast…it's just…" her brow furrowed, two worry lines appearing between her eyes. It should have made Willow panic, but the familiar sight and sound of Tara's stutter brought tears to her eyes. Everything about Tara was stunning. Even her imperfections. "I have to c-call someone," and then Tara lowered her head, her hair falling forward. "To cancel s-something."

A slow smile began to spread over Willow's face. The date. What was that girl's name? And she's going to cancel. Definitely different.

"Okay," she said softly tracing the line of Tara's jaw with her fingers.

"I mean, if I'm s-staying," Tara mumbled.

"Oh, you're definitely staying. Leaving is just not an option," she said gently bringing the blonde's face up to her own pulling her into another long deep kiss. Tara broke away again carefully pushing Willow back.

"I h-have to tell you something."

"Okay." Willow said easing back onto her elbows.

"I h-had a d-date tonight," she began, and lowered her eyes again. Willow knew she should pay careful attention to her words, but she was lost in the sight before her: Tara, golden hair tousled, lips swollen and red, button down open to reveal her breasts still encased in a sheer white bra.

This can't be real.

It can't be as easy as two little words.

"Uh-huh," Willow mumbled and reached out to trace the side of one of the blonde's breasts with her hand.

Tara shivered and then put her hand over Willow's to stop her.

"Willow, I want you to know the truth and how sorry I am…"

The redhead stopped her with a fierce kiss and then pulled back slowly to rest on her elbows again. She watched amused and then aroused as the blonde's eyes traveled over her chest, her mouth opening slightly.

"You are so not the sorry party here. If I wasn't such a clueless dummy you wouldn't have had to make a date with Miss I'm-so-cool-with-my-leather jacket."

Tara's mouth began to turn up into another smile as she met green eyes.

"You're n-not mad?"

"No, but I will definitely be miffed if this phone call takes more than thirty seconds of my Tara time."

She was rewarded with another brilliant Tara smile.

"Okay," the blonde said and then quickly rose to her feet, pulling the button-down closed with one hand. Willow watched her walk, watched the familiar sway of her hips under the olive material of her cargo pants. She would have sworn that she could map the curve of those hips from memory, but even her didactic recollection couldn't do this simple sight justice - Tara walking across a room. A miracle.

The blonde dialed quickly and turned to face her.

"You know her number by heart?" Willow asked playfully.

Tara froze, deep lines forming between her eyes as she held the receiver to her ear.

"No. I m-mean…her r-roommate's a f-friend of mine," she should have felt sorry for making Tara stutter, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted everything. If this was going to be their last moment together she wanted every piece of them in the small space of the room.

"Uh-huh," she said and then moved her hands up to unclasp the bra in the front. Tara licked her lips once before her face flushed scarlet.

"Oh, uh, h-hi S-Sandy," the blonde closed her eyes and turned her back on Willow. "Is R-Rachel there?"

Rachel.

The redhead rose silently and moved directly behind Tara. She could feel the heat pouring off of her, radiating into the air between them.

Alive.

It was more and more real every second. Not a miracle anymore, just a fact.

She brought her arms slowly around Tara's waist to the bare skin of her stomach and heard the blonde's breathing catch and then quicken. Bringing her lips to one perfect ear, she whispered low, "You know I tried, I really did, but I just couldn't be that far away from you…"

"Oh, uh, hi R-Rachel, um…"

"One thousand one," Willow whispered and then kissed the sensitive skin behind Tara's ear making her jump.

"Ah, um, s-sorry…um, about t-tonight…"

"One thousand five," she began to carefully pull the button-down off of one shoulder kissing bare skin.

"I, uh…yeah, it's j-just that…" a loud sigh escaped Tara and she cleared her throat.

"Tell her you're mine," she continued to torture the blonde with kisses on her neck and ears. "All mine."

"I'm, uh…I'm gonna have to c-cancel…"

"One thousand nineteen Ms. Maclay. Could you move that phone to the other ear?" she whispered, her voice hoarse with need. Tara shifted the receiver from one side to the other and Willow pushed the remaining material aside baring both shoulders. She traced her fingertips gently down the blonde's sides drawing small circles before bringing them up to cup her breasts. Tara's breath caught in her throat, but she continued to talk to Rachel as if nothing had happened. Willow smiled into Tara's neck, licking from her collar to the back of her ear as she pulled the blonde against her, pressing her breasts into her back.

"Oh God!" Tara moaned and then cleared her throat again. "No, I'm o-okay Rachel, I j-just re…remembered something…"

Willow was about to begin a new round of tortures when she caught sight of their reflection in the window. The window. Tara. Every muscle in her body locked with the terror of it. She felt the grief and panic move through her again in an agonizing wave, but she held it down. This was not about grief. This woman in her arms was bright and new and now. And nothing mattered but that. Not the future. Not the past.

This is happening.

Nothing but Tara in a bra, a sexy smile on her lips as she looked down at the redhead's hands and then her own smiling gently into one pale shoulder. It was so familiar the two of them like this. She could never resist holding the blonde from behind whether she was at the mirror or washing dishes - for the redhead it was simply irresistable. It had become one of their most familiar private jokes, but this Tara didn't know it yet.

This Tara.

And then blue eyes met green, her smile fading as they stared at each other in the glass.

"Tar…" all of the teasing was gone, replaced in one moment by desperate need and Tara somehow seemed to understand, pressing herself back against Willow and reaching behind to grab one hip with her free hand.

"Rachel I've really got to go," Willow could still hear the other girl talking as the blonde hung up the phone. Tara held her eyes in the glass for long moments bringing her hands to cover the redhead's where they rested over her breasts and then slowly turned in her arms. Willow worried briefly that they would return to the gentle teasing, that Tara would become shy. Would want to take things slow.

And then she felt Tara's hands sliding tentatively over her breasts and gasped.

"So, I'm yours?" she asked and Willow nodded. "So, that means…mine?" the blonde demanded studying her hands as they moved over the flushed skin of the redhead's chest finally bringing her mouth to Willow's in a breath-taking kiss.

No slow.

"Yours. Forever," she choked between kisses and felt the tears threatening again as she unclasped Tara's bra running her hands over the familiar landscape, feeling nipples harden against her palms.

Tara.

She let her hands drop to the waistband of the cargo pants and began to unbutton them.

"Is this okay?" she asked gasping for air and Tara nodded wildly.

"Skirt?" Tara asked and then dropped her head to kiss Willow's neck, her mouth open and hot on her collarbone.

"Oh God! Zipper… in the back."

As she freed the final button and pushed the material down over Tara's hips warm hands circled her waist and then the familiar sound of a zipper.

Tara's mouth moved over her neck back to her mouth before pulling back abruptly.

"Willow I can't stand up…" she trailed off breathless.

"Bed. Now." Willow gasped and stepped out of her skirt and shoes to sit on the side of the bed.

Tara was still struggling gracefully with her pants and sneakers and Willow felt a steady calm descend on her as she studied her. Followed the sinuous curve and line of her. This is happening. This is real.

And Tara was standing before her, shy again, covering herself with her arms.

"Come here sexy," Willow said without thinking.

Not something freshman Willow would say. Definitely not…

But Tara was smiling again and moving toward her. Willow guided her down to sit beside her.

"I'm not s-sexy," Tara began, her eyes falling again to the floor.

"See now your gonna make me think I'm doing something wrong…" she traced the blonde's perfect nose and then turned her head gently to face her. "'Cause if I was doing this right," she paused to kiss the blonde gently, "you'd know that you're the sexiest woman on earth." She punctuated her statement with a long, slow kiss, moaning loudly as Tara's hands found their way to the back of her head pulling her deeper in.

"You're definitely doing this right," the blonde managed between kisses and then pulled back to study Willow's face. "Am…am I? 'Cause you know I've never…"

"Better than right." Willow soothed. "Definitely righter." And kissed her bare shoulder. "Rightest even."

"But I think it could be righter, you know, if we were, uh, actually on the bed," Tara offered with a mischievous smile.

Oh my God. Sexy is definitely not a big enough word for Tara. It never was.

Somehow they made their way up the bed, falling together in a tangle of limbs and bare skin and Tara was over her, studying Willow's face. Her hair fell in a golden curtain around them, filtering the light to a soft glow and the redhead felt tears spring to her eyes again.

"I'm afraid I'm too heavy…"

Willow smiled up at her, pulling her down gently into a tight embrace. "You're not…trust me."

"I do." Tara smiled that beautiful lopsided smile and finally lowered herself onto the redhead's slim frame, bare skin sliding over bare skin everywhere.

"Tar!" The word was torn out of Willow like a sob as she brought her mouth up to meet the blonde's in an end-of-the-world kiss.

It was never like this.

There was no line between them anymore, mouths wide open, hips beginning a slow rock in that language that Willow's body knew by heart.

"These have to go," she mumbled and pulled at the thin strip of fabric on Tara's hip. The only thing left between them.

"So do these," the blonde responded tugging at Willow's panties.

The redhead nodded once and shivered as Tara pulled the fabric slowly down her legs and finally let them drop to the floor. Willow sat up slowly and pushed the blonde down to the bed, making her way down that perfect body with hands and mouths, stripping away the last barrier between them.

She knew she should slow down, should focus on committing every moment, every taste and smell to memory, to make it real, but she couldn't. Because this was the now finally and their love was a verb again, not a noun. There was no memory to draw from, no pattern of love-making to fall into. It was all new and her world had focused down to the space beneath her hands and mouth. Moment to moment as her open mouth moved over a perfect knee, the soft skin of Tara's stomach, the arch and peak of perfect breasts. She felt it all at once, the everything of Tara, the taste, sound, smell and sight of her as if she had developed a new and separate sense just for this.

And it told her that the exquisite tension that she was holding onto, carefully drawing out and trying desperately to control was building beyond them. The room was no longer large enough to contain their want. And the ache was going to break her. And Tara. She could hear it in the blonde's breath, the sobbing way she pulled Willow against her body and mouth. Desperate.

This is how it happened:

Hands between thighs, wet and heat and Tara. The slow, impossible pressure and no release. Desperately holding onto this thing between them that had everything and nothing to do with magic. But it wasn't hers. It was theirs. Hers and Tara's. And its own. And she couldn't control it.

Willow knew in that moment with absolute certainty that it wasn't a dream or a hallucination. It was real. Because nothing, no one on earth or any other possible future or past could make her feel like this. Nothing and no one but Tara.

Their eyes met, black with desire and she felt with that other sense as everything in Tara tensed and then released, screaming Willow's name.

Willow pulled back once more to study the lines of the face beneath her, the deep blue eyes holding her safe.

Tara.

And finally…let go.

****

Part VI

"I thought I'd lost you."

The Slayer held her breath as she watched the scene unfold in front of her. Watched the two women connect in that way that made everything around them seem insignificant. Unimportant. Including herself. And it was, she realized for the first time, everything in the universe was insignificant in the face of a moment like this. Slaying, demons, death. Everything. And all of Tara and Willow's moments had been like this. Before.

A tear rolled down one cheek, surprising the Slayer.

Why didn't I see this before?

Because you didn't want to. Because you're the queen of denial.

As Willow slid one cheek along Tara's in a move that was slow and sensual, Buffy inhaled sharply.

And you shouldn't be seeing this now. Hello, hot and heavy lesbian sex scene is definitely in the making and you're still in the room!

Buffy quietly backed away closed the door to their dorm room and stood in the hall unsure of what to do. Should she wait to make sure that Willow was alright? Make sure that in a fit of grief and rage she didn't go black magic.

An image of Willow wrapped in on herself in grief slipped into her mind and she realized with a wave of guilt that she had never seen her best friend cry for Tara. The redhead hadn't even mentioned her lost love since her return. Not once. They had all carefully stepped around the issue, assuring themselves that it was best for Willow. That she had moved on with the help of whatever counseling she had received in England, but Buffy saw now with terrible clarity that she had been wrong. They all had. Willow would never move beyond Tara.

And I didn't do anything for her. Willow is my best friend…what am I saying? She's more than that, she's like my soul mate… in a totally platonic, never-gonna-have-sex kinda way…and I couldn't even let her cry.

Because that was the Scooby way. Somehow, at some point a rule had been written that they would all suffer in silence. And they had. Making their way through terrible loss and grief and because there were more important things to worry about. And there was always something. New apocalypses, new evil. Always something more important and they were all paying for it.

Emotionally retarded, she thought with a smile. Dawn had accused her of being emotionally retarded a month after Tara's death because she hadn't cried at the funeral. She hadn't cried for Tara at all. The teenager was right…as usual. And she was all alone in the future somewhere. Alone with Faith and that device.

The unmistakable sounds of Tara and Willow's love-making finally filtered through her senses. She felt a deep flush across her cheeks and laughed at her own discomfort.

Why does this make me all uncomfortable? Yep, emotionally retarded. That's me.

With a sigh she pulled on her jacket and quietly locked the door. There was certainly no reason for her to stay. Now that it was the two of them again. They were all they had ever needed.

She wiped the tears roughly from her face.

Okay, what's the plan? What am I doing? Oh yeah. Demon device. Checking the house for it.

Another loud moan from inside and her stomach turned over uncomfortably.

Now.

****

"Buffy! I'm home!" Dawn slammed the door behind her and dropped her backpack heavily onto the floor.

"Hello?" she yelled again hopefully. Dawn didn't have to explore to know that the house was empty. The sound of it, the terrible emptiness of being alone was so familiar, she knew its awful echoes by heart.

"Willow?" she asked quietly, tentatively and was thankful when there was no reply. She hadn't told anyone, but she was still scared of the redhead and hated to be left alone with her. There was so much they couldn't say to each other.

"Great. I don't know why I bother being on time ever," she muttered angrily and made her way up the well-worn staircase. "I could have stayed and had cool eggs with Rain, but no." That was so like Buffy. Everyone had to work on her schedule. Everyone else had to do what she wanted, when she wanted it. But if she was late and ruined everyone else's plans that was okay.

"Because Buffy's so much more important than me or anyone else."

Dawn paused as she rounded the corner and found herself in front of Tara's photo. Looking around guiltily, she brought her fingers to her lips and touched them to the glass carefully. "Sorry I thought that about Willow, Tara, I just…well, you know…" she trailed off unsure of how to finish the statement and knowing that she didn't have to. Tara had always known.

With another long sigh she made her way down the hall, stopping to check Buffy's room. The bed was made, the room was tidy and clean. No Buffy. And no clues as to where she was or when she'd be back. Nothing new.

"Guess I should've checked the fridge," she mumbled and headed back into the hallway toward the stairs, but something stopped her. Movement out of the corner of her eye. Movement where it shouldn't be in that room at the end of the hall that had been her mother's and then Tara's and Willow's and now, finally was just a guestroom. The guestroom that Willow slept in. The room she hadn't been in since that day she had spent with Tara's body.

Okay, think like a Slayer. What would Buffy do? She'd tell you to get your ass out of the house…so, what would Faith do?

Dawn smiled and wiped her palms on her jeans, preparing herself for the walk down the hall. Movement. But there was no one in the house and no sound. The teenager's skin felt electric, the hair on the back of her neck standing up uncomfortably. And she knew she should leave, should find her sister and let the Slayer investigate, but she didn't. She looked once to the smiling photo of Tara and took a deep breath to steady herself before walking quietly toward that room.

It seemed to take forever to reach that dark room. The shades were still drawn, leaving it in shadow, but there seemed to be something moving inside. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and crept forward. The first thing she saw was the laptop. The screen was cracked and flickering an eerie green. Then the burn marks and the glass. Black soot scored the walls in large areas and broken glass from the window reflected back the laptop's flicker. And there was a shimmer in the air, like light projected without a screen. She thought she saw a familiar silhouette and blonde hair out of the corner of her eye.

"Tara?" And she could swear she smelled it - jasmine.

But when she turned to look there was nothing. She stepped carefully into the room knowing that she shouldn't, knowing with every cell in her body that something had happened here. Something powerful and dangerous. But if Tara was here it couldn't be bad, right?

Think Tara thoughts. Tara will protect me. Tara will protect me…

Then she saw it and her stomach turned over - the shattered window. The bullet that had ended everything and taken Tara and Willow away from her. And a silver object on the floor that didn't belong, that felt…wrong.

"Oh God, oh God," she brought a hand to her mouth to stop herself, but she couldn't because she knew that Buffy was gone. There was magic in this room. Magic and Willow. And Buffy would never have allowed that to happen.

"No," She whispered, but it was drowned out by a wail in the distance. A long, low ghostly scream of anguish that she knew without thinking was Willow.

Buffy's gone. Willow went dark magic and took her with her. And the bullet…

I'm alone. I'm all alone. Again.

"No!" the word was torn out of her in an anguished scream.

She felt as much as heard the house shake under the impact of something powerful, but she couldn't move. Her eyes traveled over the ruined room searching for evidence to verify what she already knew. Buffy's gone.

"I'm alone, I'm alone…" she muttered softly.

"Dawn!" The voice was familiar and loud as it echoed through the house. It was big and insistent and real, not the ghostly wails that reverberated around her in the small space of that room.

"Dawn, what the fuck happened?" The voice was now right behind her, but she couldn't move. Until she felt the warm weight of a hand on her shoulder gently turning her. "Where's Buffy?"

Faith.

The Slayer pushed pass her into the room, stake in hand and Dawn studied her back as she assessed the danger, and felt a choking sob of relief work its way into her throat. Because it was so familiar, the strong set of her shoulders and her fighting posture. It was familiar and real and she was there with Dawn.

"Faith?" The teenager finally croaked. The Slayer turned to her, her face full of concern.

"Are you okay?" Faith moved toward her and Dawn watched her eyes as they checked for any sign of injury. And she knew she shouldn't break, knew she should be tough and strong like the Dark Slayer, but she couldn't. Not now. So she threw her arms around her and cried into the rough leather jacket. They stood that way for several moments in an awkward embrace, Faith tense in her arms. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she felt the Slayer's arms close around her stiffly.

"It's okay D, it's okay…" the Slayer whispered and patted her back clumsily. "We'll find her. I promise."

"I'm alone," she cried into Faith's shoulder. "They're gone and I'm alone again," she continued, her voice rapidly disintegrating into hysterical tears.

Faith pulled back slowly and held her face between two strong callused hands.

"No you're not." She wiped the tears carefully from the teenager's face, her jaw clenched tight as she stared with barely restrained fury into Dawn's eyes. "You're not fucking alone!" The Slayer closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her movements immediately reminding Dawn of Tara's meditation techniques. And then dark eyes flashed at her familiar and wild. "I'm not leaving. Okay?"

And Dawn knew that she could trust the Dark Slayer, despite everything she had heard, all the looks and whispered accusations. She knew it in the way she knew that Tara was still with her. The way she knew without a doubt that Willow and Buffy were gone.

"Okay."

****

TBC....