KiWy:
I'm glad you liked it... Hope you enjoy the new one...
Zampsa1975: Warren will get what's coming to him soon... not quite yet though.... thanks so much for reading!
perchiper: Yeah, there are definitely a lot of ways to change it up
We're not quite done with Warren yet so don't count on him not causing any more trouble... Thanks for the comment!
DaddyCatALSO: Thanks! I've got one I'm working on set in season four where Willow gets hit by the car when she's leaving the graveyard after catching Oz and Veruca... but I've never changed the entire show before...
rhh21: Warren's got a bit more trouble to cause... you'll just have to wait and see
Thanks for reading!
love_2003: Warren's got a few more tricks up his sleeve, but I promise a happy ending... Thanks so much for reading!
Chapter 9 of 11Tara’s spine stiffened, her eyes traveling rapidly between the Slayer and the witch. “What?! No! Willow, you’re not going to go dark!”
“Did I do it?” Willow asked, staring at the floor. “Was it me?”
Buffy frowned, trying to remember her vision, those scattered seconds after the bullet had hit her. “I don’t know, I didn’t see that. You were on the floor in your room, and Tara was dead in your arms.” She tried to focus, her eyes snapping open. “There was blood on both of you, but your shirt Tara, it looked kind of like a hole,” she offered. “I’m sorry, that’s all I remember.” She shuddered. “Your eyes were pitch black. It was awful.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Tara insisted firmly, reaching for Willow’s shoulder and shooting a glare at the Slayer. “Willow would never kill me!”
Buffy seemed to recoil from the heat of Tara’s gaze and she nodded hurriedly. “Of course you wouldn’t, Willow. Never in a million years!”
Willow twitched her shoulder away from Tara’s hand, taking two long steps back from her. “Tara,” she started, looking up to find the hurt in her lover’s face. “I can’t, Tara, I can’t hurt you,” she said, her voice breaking. “Not again…”
Tara shook her head rapidly, reaching for her again. “You won’t. I know you won’t!” Willow recoiled again and Tara stopped a few feet away from her, lifting both hands. “I won’t come any closer, but baby, this is crazy - you would never kill me!”
“I don’t want to,” Willow agreed. “But I’m not safe, I can’t take the chance, I have to get away from you.” She only realized what she was saying as Tara sucked in a breath, tears welling suddenly in her eyes.
“What?” The word was low, her voice suddenly hoarse, but it seemed to echo in Willow’s ears.
“Tara, please! I can’t hurt you,” Willow pleaded, tears in her own eyes.
Tara stared at her for a long moment before taking a long step forward. Willow moved to retreat from her, realizing too late that she had backed herself into a corner. She dimly recognized that their friends were watching, but her entire world was focused on Tara.
Another two steps had Tara well inside Willow’s personal space and the redhead whimpered as Tara’s hands traced slowly down each of her arms, fingers curling together naturally as their hands met.
Tara’s blue eyes met hers straight on, and the blonde took a deep breath. “I love you Willow, and I know that you’d never hurt me,” she said calmly. “I won’t let you walk away from me.”
“I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want you to get hurt,” Willow said, her voice choked, her tears now streaming down her cheeks.
Tara shook her head firmly. “The only thing that will hurt me is if you leave me and try and convince yourself that it’s for my benefit.”
“You’ll be safer without me,” Willow whimpered, feeling Tara’s hands in her own, their palms pressed flat against each other.
Tara shook her head firmly, eyes blazing. “No,” she said forcefully. “I won’t lose you because you’re scared of something that won’t happen.”
“Buffy saw it!” Willow insisted, choking on the words.
The Slayer spoke from the bed and the witches realized that they’d forgotten that their friends were still in the same room. “I had just gotten shot, Will. I’m not sure we can trust what I saw. Besides, I saw the Master rise and kill us all and it didn’t happen.”
“See,” Tara said, tightening her grip on Willow’s hands. “It’s not set in stone. The idea that you could kill me - it doesn’t even make sense, Willow.”
“The magic! It takes me away, it takes you away from me,” Willow said frantically, her hands trembling in Tara’s tight hold. The blonde witch stared at her for a long moment, taking a deep breath. Willow was staring back at her, her face sticky with tears.
Tara moved before Willow could blink, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her mouth, not deepening it, just kissing her softly for a few brief moments before she stepped back, releasing Willow’s hands.
Willow looked confused and distraught by her sudden freedom, missing Tara’s comforting nearness even as she claimed that she needed to get away from her.
“If you really think that there’s any force in the world that could drive you to kill me, even the magic, you can walk out that door and I w-won’t s-st-stop you,” Tara said, choking on her own tears now.
Both witches could hear their friends’ gasps of surprise and Dawn’s brokenhearted whimper of protest, but their eyes stayed locked on each other, neither one blinking.
Willow stared at the woman in front of her, the woman she loved with every bit of her heart. She tried to imagine, honestly, any situation that would cause her to think for even a heartbeat of hurting Tara, much less killing her. Her struggle was clear on her face and Tara caught her gently as Willow’s knees crumbled out from under her, dropping into what would have been a painful landing on the hard hospital floor if Tara hadn’t slowed her.
Willow broke down in her arms, her tears and choking sobs pressed into Tara’s shoulder, the blonde’s hands stroking soothingly over her back, murmuring softly into her ear while their friends watched in stunned silence as the tense atmosphere of the room collapsed with Willow.
“I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay. I’m right here,” Tara whispered to her, rocking them gently. “I love you, Willow.” Her lover’s arms were almost painfully tight around her, but they were a comforting reminder that Willow hadn’t called her bluff and walked out the door. Her eyes closed tightly, squeezing Willow closer. “I couldn’t have let you go,” she confessed in a quiet voice, feeling Willow shaking against her.
Tara’s eyes opened slowly to find the others looking down at them, watching anxiously. Dawn was curled into her sister, crying softly and Xander was watching Willow cry with a look of obvious pain on his face. His hands wiped anxiously over his legs. “So, no one’s leaving anyone, but what are we doing now? I mean, whoever shot Buffy is still out there.” He paused, hesitating. “And if it is Warren, he does have about ten million reasons to hate Willow.”
He grimaced apologetically as Buffy and Tara sent him simultaneous glares and Willow whimpered in Tara’s arms, squeezing the blonde so tightly that Tara coughed. Willow jumped like she’d been shocked, trying to scramble away from Tara, but the blonde wouldn’t let her go.
“I just couldn’t breath for a second, that’s it! You didn’t hurt me, Willow,” Tara stated firmly, her hold becoming softer as Willow stopped struggling against her. “Let’s get these two home,” she said, looking up at the others. “Buffy, how are you feeling?”
The Slayer nodded from her bed. “I’m good to go. And I think we’ve frustrated that doctor enough that he won’t fight too much when I check myself out.”
Xander moved to crouch next to Willow and Tara. “I can carry her out,” he offered, trying to make up for his ill timed comment.
Willow surprised them both as she lifted her face, red and splotchy from crying, up from Tara’s shoulder. “I can walk.” Xander gave her a hand up to her feet and Willow was quick to regain Tara’s hand as her lover stood up with them. Tara met Willow’s eyes, her free hand wiping tears gently from her face, brushing her hair back. Willow was gnawing her bottom lip, obviously anxious, but her hand was steady in Tara’s grip.
Buffy helped Dawn out of her hospital bed, getting out herself and surveying the others briefly. “Let’s go home,” she said, leading the way back to the nurse’s station. They objected when she said she wanted to check herself out, but permission from the doctor got them over that hurdle and they all climbed into Xander’s car, driving the short distance to Revello Drive in silence.
They piled into the house, all making it as far as the foyer before they were all just standing, not sure where to go next. The backdoor was still open from Willow’s frenzied exit, and Xander left the girls in the front room as he moved to close it. He came back to them through the other hallway and they all listened carefully to make sure that they were alone in the house.
A noise upstairs made them all freeze and Buffy pointed firmly at Willow. “Watch them,” she whispered with a gesture at Tara and Dawn, seeing the witch’s nod before she moved noiselessly to the stairs, Xander following her to the second floor.
There was a muffled scuffle and Buffy appeared at the top of the stairs, holding Spike in front of her by the collar of his coat. They came down the stairs in a clatter of stumbling footsteps, the Slayer shoving the vampire roughly.
“What are you doing here, Spike?” she demanded, shooting a chiding look at her sister as Dawn’s mouth opened to protest her rough treatment of the vampire.
His shoulders ducked under her tight grip on his jacket. “Some wanker came in the bar and was claiming that he killed the Slayer. I came to check on you, smelled the blood in the grass and the door was open, so I let myself in,” he said in a rush and she let him go, her spine relaxing.
“Thanks, Spike,” she said, apologetic now.
He shrugged, straightening the leather on his shoulders. “Not a problem, pet. I’ll blame the bad attitude on the shooting. Though, I have to say that you’re exceptionally strong after losing all the blood I smelled outside.”
“I should be dead.” She was still pale, but nodded her head toward the pair of witches. “They saved me.” Her arms crossed over her chest. “And why were you in their room?” she asked, suspicion in her tone.
Willow and Tara both jumped, looking at each other before their eyes turned to the blond vampire. “What?” Willow demanded. “You were in our room?” she asked.
He nodded, frowning in confusion. “You lot didn’t notice?” he asked. He got confused looks directed back at him, and he continued quickly. “There was a bullet hole through your window. Planted itself in the ceiling.”
Willow’s face went white, her hands trembling, fighting sudden nausea as Spike’s next statement confirmed her fear. “If either of you lot had been in front of the window you’d be dead now. I was just checking to make sure you weren’t,” he said, his words coming more slowly as he saw Willow tremble.
Tara’s eyes traveled from Spike to Willow, her arm curling around her lover’s waist as it became clear that Willow was seconds away from a collapse. A look brought Buffy to their side, her arms curling around Willow’s other side, helping Tara guide her to the couch, Tara keeping her place as the Slayer stepped back. Tara leaned her forehead against Willow’s, murmuring quiet assurances to her, speaking too low for the others to make out her words.
Xander spoke hesitantly, his eyes lingering on the pair. “Maybe it’s a good thing,” he offered. Tara’s head turned quickly to gape at him while Willow shot him a glare, her hands scrambling to hold Tara closer. “I just meant that maybe that was what Buffy saw. She said there was a hole in her shirt. Maybe she saw what would have happened if Tara had been here. So maybe Tara’s safe.”
The witches exchanged glances, both turning to look at Buffy. “Um,” she started. “That could be. I mean, when I saw Tara die, you were both in your room.”
“Was she in front of the window?” Willow asked, her voice hoarse.
Buffy closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. She shook her head with her eyes still closed. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. I think she might have been in front of the window.”
Willow shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Tara, stay out of that room,” she stated, only realizing how authoritative she sounded when her girlfriend raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Um, I mean, please don’t go in there?” she tried. “I just can’t lose you,” she breathed, leaning forward into Tara’s arms. She knew the others were watching them, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Tara soothed her gently, her hands stroking gently over Willow’s back. She heard Willow mumble something into her shoulder, but was unable to make out the words. “What, Will?” she asked softly, feeling Willow’s head move so that her mouth was at her ear.
“Maybe we could go away, take our vacation now, like we talked about in England,” Willow said quietly.
Tara pulled her head back to look at her. “You want to run away?” she asked doubtfully.
Willow shook her head, her eyes skittering anxiously over the fabric of the couch. “No, I just meant, maybe we could go to L.A., go dancing like we talked about.”
Tara let out a deep breath and she could feel their friends drifting out of the room, giving them privacy. “Do you really want to fulfill your fantasy about taking me dancing this way?” she asked gently.
Willow shook her head, still looking at the couch rather than at Tara. “No,” she sighed, sounding like she was going to cry. “Not at all, but I can’t just sit here and let you get shot.”
Tara studied her lover for a long moment, her hand gently guiding Willow’s face up to meet her eyes. “It’s not just you, sweetheart. I’m here, and Buffy, and Xander, Dawn, even Spike. We’re all here and nothing is going to happen to me. You don’t have to protect me, Willow.” She could see her girlfriend’s protest already on her lips and she continued quickly. “Not by yourself. Everybody will look out for me.”
Willow let out a deep breath, feeling Tara’s gentle hands slide over her shoulders and down her arms. The tension and anxiety were still rising up her spine, but she kept herself quiet, staring into Tara’s face.
“Can we go upstairs? You need to sleep,” Tara said gently, her fingertips tracing over Willow’s cheek.
“I don’t want you in that room,” Willow insisted.
Tara shook her head minutely. “Baby, that’s our room. Where do you want us to sleep?” she asked softly. “Do you want me to sleep somewhere else?” she said hesitantly.
Willow shook her head rapidly. “No! I don’t want you going anywhere without me.”
“Do you want to go sleep in the dorm room?” Tara asked.
Willow groaned, flopping onto her back on the couch. “I don’t know what to do, Tara!” she said quietly, her frustration obvious.
Tara didn’t speak, instead watching Xander as he carried a board up the stairs to fix their window. He met her eyes, giving her a look of concern. The witch looked back to Willow, the redhead lying flat on her back on the couch, one arm curled over her eyes.
Buffy came back in silently, her arms crossed over her chest. “Maybe we should all get out of the house tonight,” she suggested, her voice loud enough for Willow to hear her. “Warren knows where we live.”
“He thinks you’re dead,” Tara reminded her.
Buffy nodded, hesitating before she spoke again. “But he could still want to get to Willow.”
The redhead sat up as the statement registered in her mind. “Where do you think we should go?”
The Slayer sighed. “Spike offered us his crypt for the weekend.”
Tara managed a weak smile. “Dawn must love that,” she commented.
Buffy rolled her eyes, letting out a deep breath. “Yeah, I know, but I think it’s our best bet right now. For a few days, at least.”
Xander came back down the stairs, joining them in the living room. He had a look of frustration on his face. “Am I giving you guys a ride?” he asked, clearly hoping the answer was negative.
The Slayer nodded, her arms still tense across her chest. “Yeah, just give us a few minutes to pack, okay?”
He sighed, but nodded. “I boarded up your window for tonight, but I’ll come by tomorrow and put new glass in,” he told the witches. Tara nodded, but didn’t speak and he took a deep breath. “I’ll give Dawn the good news,” he said sarcastically, moving back into the kitchen.
“I can pack a bag for you two,” Buffy offered.
Tara shook her head, standing up. “I’ll get it,” she said. Willow seized her wrist instantly, not letting her move away from the couch. Tara looked down at her wordlessly, seeing the fear threatening to overwhelm Willow. She turned her wrist in Willow’s grip, curling her fingers around the redhead’s wrist. “Come with me,” she said softly, pulling Willow up from the couch.
Buffy watched them in silence, seeing Willow’s feet dragging, and the Slayer walked briskly into the kitchen, issuing quick orders. “Spike, take a circle around the house. Make sure we’re alone.” Spike nodded, already moving out the backdoor. Xander met Buffy’s eyes, questioning. “Tara’s going upstairs. I’m just making sure,” she told him. Her gaze shifted to her sister. “After Spike comes back you can come upstairs and pack,” she told Dawn. “Don’t leave Xander until Spike tells you that there’s no one outside.” She got a sigh and nod of acknowledgement from her sister and moved quickly back to the stairs, taking them two at a time after the witches.
Willow was hesitating at the doorway of her room, holding Tara protectively behind her. Buffy studied them for a second, making a quick decision and moving past them into the room. She clicked on the light switch, tensing up for a second. Xander had done a good job boarding up the window and had even swept up the broken glass.
Buffy took a step further into the room, concentrating on the vision she’d had. She knew immediately as she reached the spot where the scene she’d witnessed had unfolded. Her eyes dropped to her feet and she was almost surprised to see that there was no blood in the carpet.
She heard Spike’s voice from the base of the stairs calling the all-clear and she blinked, turning to face the door. “It’s okay, Willow. Spike just checked. There’s no one outside.”
The redhead wasn’t moving, and Tara slid her arms around her girlfriend’s waist. “Baby, it’s okay. There’s nothing in there to hurt me,” she murmured into her ear, squeezing her gently.
Willow turned her head slightly to look at her. “There’s me,” she breathed. Tara’s eyes closed briefly, her head shaking from side to side in denial and her arms tightened around Willow.
“We’ve already talked about this. You would never kill me, Willow,” Tara breathed into her ear. She met Buffy’s eyes over the redhead’s shoulder, making a decision of her own.
Willow’s eyes widened in surprise as she felt Tara’s arms lifting her, her feet taken off the ground as the blonde leaned back. “Hey, wait! Put me down!” Willow yelped as Tara carried her into the room, not letting her down until she reached the spot where Buffy was standing.
Willow stood stock still in place for a long moment, feeling Tara’s arms loosen. The blonde moved slowly toward the window, standing on her toes to look over the boarded up pane into the darkness outside. Willow whimpered behind her and Tara turned to face her, smiling gently.
“It’s okay, Willow,” Tara breathed. “I’m right here.” Satisfied with her demonstration, she pulled Willow into a hug, nodding to Buffy over Willow’s shoulder. “We’ll be down soon,” Tara told her. Buffy nodded, moving out of the room.
“You shouldn’t had done that,” Willow complained against her shoulder.
Tara surprised her by laughing quietly. “You would have kept me in the hall all night,” she objected softly. “And nothing happened.”
Willow sighed, letting herself relax against Tara. “Let’s get some clothes together and we can get out of here.”
“But we will be coming back, Willow. This is our home,” Tara reminded her gently, relieved to feel Willow nod against her. Tara let Willow go slowly, the redhead studying the carpet in silence before giving one last glance at the broken window, the latest marker of how close she had come to almost losing everything again.
Tara watched as Willow resolutely turned her back on the boarded up window, her eyes closing briefly before they locked on Tara’s. The blonde offered a reassuring smile and was grateful to see Willow return it genuinely.
They could both hear Dawn clattering up the stairs and it spurred them into motion. Tara moved to their bathroom, collecting toothbrushes for everyone, while Willow tossed their pajamas and a few changes of clothes into a duffel bag quickly.
Tara felt a smile come to her lips as Willow took her hand while they walked down the stairs, a sideways glance revealing that the redhead appeared to have calmed down. Willow had the strap of their bag over her shoulder, her free hand fiddling with the strap as they walked into the kitchen.
It took Dawn the longest to pack, and the others milled around the kitchen in tense silence until she rejoined them. They piled into Xander’s car, the girls squeezing all four of themselves into the backseat, while Spike sat in the front exchanging uncomfortable looks with Xander.
The carpenter helped the girls in with their bags once they arrived at Spike’s crypt, lingering despite the late hour. Buffy walked him out, knowing why he was procrastinating.
“It’s okay, Xand. I know you don’t trust Spike, but he took care of Dawn the whole time we were in England. He’s proven himself to me. And he won’t let anything happen to us,” she said, a comforting hand on his arm.
He sighed, nodding. “I know. Old habits die hard though.” He hugged her gently. “You’ll keep an eye on Will, right?”
“Of course. And Tara, and Dawn,” she said, nodding seriously.
“Good,” he said in agreement. “I’ll call you in the morning?”
The Slayer nodded again, glancing around the graveyard. “Thanks, Xander. Love to Anya.”
She lingered outside the crypt until she saw Xander’s taillights pull away, joined after a moment by Spike. “You birds can sleep in the bedroom, I’ll kip on the chair up here, be able to give a warning if something happens in the night.”
She nodded, her arms crossed over her chest. “Thanks, Spike. I’ll take a patrol, will you stay with them?” she asked, cocking her head back toward the crypt.
“I’ll take the walkabout, pet. You watch over the witches and little sis,” he offered. “You’d never be able to concentrate if you left them here,” Spike reasoned. “You’d just get yourself killed.”
Buffy let out a deep breath, nodding. “Thanks Spike.”
He gave her a sly smile, accepting the stake she handed him. “I’ll let you know when I get back,” he said over his shoulder as he moved off into the headstones.
The top portion of the crypt was empty, and she glanced down the ladder into Spike’s bedroom, hearing Willow and Dawn talking as she started down through the hole.
Dawn had already changed into her pajamas, and was eagerly looking around Spike’s room. Tara gave Buffy a sympathetic smile as the Slayer rolled her eyes at her sister. Buffy glanced around the room herself, grudgingly impressed with Spike’s scavenged décor. Thankfully, it looked as if he’d stolen the king sized bed from a store rather than saved it from some trash heap.
“It’s been a long day, we should all get some sleep,” Buffy suggested. She mustered a playful wink for Willow. “Hope you don’t mind having to share the bed with someone besides Tara,” she teased, hoping to get a laugh or even a smile from the redhead.
Willow only smiled weakly, giving the Slayer a halfhearted glare. “She’s mine, Buffy,” she protested. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
Tara smirked over Willow’s shoulder as she wrapped her arms around Willow’s waist. “I’m hers, keep your hands to yourself,” she echoed.
The Slayer winked again, nodding. “I think Dawn and Tara should sleep in the middle, me and Will on the outsides.”
“Just in case something happens,” Willow added, nodding her agreement.
Tara squeezed her, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek. “Nothing is going to happen, sweetheart,” she whispered reassuringly.
Willow turned her head to the side, meeting Tara’s eyes, nodding finally. “Let’s go to bed,” she agreed.
They took turns in Spike’s tiny washroom, each changing into their pajamas and joining Dawn where the younger girl had staked her claim to the center of the bed. Buffy took the side that was infinitesimally closer to the ladder, and Willow took the far side, curling herself protectively close to Tara.
“You’re in for a treat Tara, Dawnie is a kicker,” Buffy warned as she clicked the lamp off, leaving the room lit only by the tiny amount of light that came in through the hole to the ground floor of the crypt.
Dawn had no trouble falling asleep in the new place, but her elders were a bit slower to join her in sleep. Willow was surprised to realize that Tara wasn’t there when she reached out for her several hours later, the cool sheets jolting her from her uneasy sleep instantly.
Buffy and Dawn were still asleep, the younger girl spread out with her arms and legs out at all angles. Buffy had been forced over to the far edge of the mattress, lying on her side facing the ladder. Willow sat up quickly, looking around the dark room. Spike didn’t have a clock, and she couldn’t tell how long she had been asleep.
She swung herself out of bed, moving on her toes toward the ladder. She felt a wave of relief as she heard Tara speaking quietly with Spike. The conversation ceased as the ladder creaked under her weight. A glance back over her shoulder ensured that Buffy was still asleep, just shifting a little.
Tara was giving her a soft smile as Willow’s head cleared the hole. Spike was sitting on top of the stone tomb, the vampire having given over his chair to Tara.
“I woke up and you were gone,” Willow said gently as she climbed out of the hole. Tara leaned back in her seat and patted the tops of both legs. Willow took the opening, letting herself drop sideways into Tara’s lap while Spike got up silently, slipping out into the night.
“You were afraid?” Tara asked, letting one hand rest on Willow’s stomach, her fingers slipping under the edge of her t-shirt. “I’m right here, Willow.”
“Why’d you leave?” Willow asked, her serious mood threatened by Tara’s softly tickling fingers.
“Dawnie kicked me and it woke me up,” Tara answered, smiling teasingly as Willow squirmed. “Buffy was right about her warning.”
Willow giggled despite herself, Tara’s arm curling around her back to keep the redhead from wiggling away from her tickly hand. Tara leaned up to kiss her, covering the sound of her lover’s laughter in an attempt not to disturb the others.
“Spike will have to come back in soon,” Tara said as they separated, gratified to see Willow’s smile again. “Are you feeling better?” she asked, voice soft with concern.
Willow nodded. “Sorry I’m such a spaz,” she said. “I just worry about you.”
“I know you do, sweetie, and I’m glad that you’re concerned about me, but I’m fine, and we’re with our friends, and it’s safe,” Tara said. “And it will be safe when we go home too.”
Willow grimaced, but nodded. “I just don’t think I’ll be comfortable until Warren is rotting in jail forever.”
Tara sighed, leaning up to press a kiss to Willow’s cheek. “We’ll go to the police station tomorrow and Buffy can tell them to add attempted murder to the list of charges against him.”
“The cops aren’t going to find him,” Willow complained.
Tara frowned slightly up at her. “Well, neither are you,” she stated firmly. Willow blinked in surprise, not expecting the forceful tone. “I don’t want you around him any more than you want me around him,” she said. “Maybe, just this once, we should let the cops deal with the bad guys. I mean, he
is human.”
Willow let out a deep breath, her shoulders slumping. “I have to protect you, Tara.”
“I get that, but protecting me is not the same thing as hunting down someone who
might shoot me,” Tara reasoned. Willow was silent, thinking over her girlfriend’s reasoning, her eyes sliding to Tara’s when the blonde yawned. “Take me to bed?” Tara asked, biting her lip to hold back a smile as Willow shot her a look.
“You had to say it like that when we’re sleeping with Buffy and Dawn?” Willow asked as she stood up, offering her hand to Tara. “And it’s not even like they’re just in the same room, they’re in the bed with us too, which makes any kind of proper smooches impossible!” she complained in a quiet voice.
“We’ll just have to celebrate when we get home and Warren is in prison,” Tara said. Willow shook her head as Tara led them away from the ladder, moving back to the door to let Spike know that it was safe for him to come back inside. “We won’t?” Tara asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I’m taking you out to celebrate. Fancy dinner, dresses, the whole deal,” Willow said matter-of-factly.
Tara smiled crookedly. “Dancing?” she asked.
Willow tried to hold back her smile, but she couldn’t and tried for a nonchalant shrug. “If you wanted to,” she said meekly.
“Oh, I want to,” Tara replied immediately, pulling on Willow’s hand to bring her closer. “What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t make my girl’s fantasy come true?” she asked with a soft smile.
Willow gave her a soft kiss, dropping her head against Tara’s shoulder. “Right now you’re being a teasing girlfriend,” she commented, narrowing her eyes. “Sweet though,” she amended as Tara squeezed her hand.
The blonde opened the door, waving to Spike. He waved back, a cigarette in one hand, and Tara gave him a smile as she and Willow went back inside and back down the ladder.
Dawn was still asleep, taking up a surprising amount of the bed considering she was so small. Buffy had woken up, but was still in bed, and she smiled to Willow as the witches returned. Tara waved with one hand, her other still captured in Willow’s.
The Slayer closed her eyes as Willow and Tara went back to the other side of the bed, able to sleep again now that everyone was where she could keep an eye on them.
Pulling the blankets back to let Tara into the bed revealed Dawn’s skinny leg, and they exchanged smiles. A gentle push prompted Dawn to roll over, still asleep. Tara felt Willow climb in behind her, and she promptly snuggled back against her.
Willow took a deep breath with her face pressed into Tara’s hair, the familiar presence in her arms comforting and relaxing, and she had no more trouble drifting back to sleep.
by KiWy » Tue Jun 01, 2010 11:54 pm 
