Zahir al Daoud - You're thinking of "The Abyss" - I really like that movie, and I guess this story could remind one of it, though I didn't really have it in mind.
eccentrictulip - Thank you; wait no more
....
Part 3
Rating: MA15 Adult themes, sexual references.Song credit: “Let It Be Me” - Emily Saliers
“Tara!” Willow screamed again, looking in vain for any trace of her beloved. As the agonised redhead searched, she saw that Donny Maclay and the other three vampires had also disappeared. In their place, shimmering in the light that still filled the cavern was a swirling cloud of dust. As Willow watched, transfixed, the cloud began to take shape, forming an inverted cone that began to rotate, slowly at first, but then faster and faster. The iron doors behind Willow flew open, admitting a harsh, roaring wind. It whipped at the redhead; she tried to shield her eyes from it. “Tara!” she tried to cry into the storm, but that lashing, howling wind from nowhere drowned her out.
The cone of dust contracted to a narrow column at the centre of the magic circle, spinning like a compact tornado. The roaring wind rose even faster and louder, and Willow clapped her hands to her ears and screamed wordlessly as it tore at her body. A bright light burst forth from the magic circle and there was a fearsome thunderclap. Willow was plucked into the air by an invisible force and hurled backwards like a rag doll onto the stone floor. As Willow slid to a painful stop, the breath knocked from her body, an echoing boom answered the thunderclap and the earth trembled a final time. Then everything went black.
Willow gasped, trying to draw air back into her shocked body. The inky blackness around her was absolute. At least the pain of the spellcasting had left her, but in the darkness, with only her shallow, wounded breathing to keep her company, she felt completely alone. And Tara was gone; had The Master taken her before the spell was completed? Willow poured her bruised heart out into a whispered prayer to the Goddess that wherever Tara now was, that she was safe and not feeling pain. But - the Lock spell, if it’s still working, she’s just - gone. The redhead stifled a sob in the silent darkness.
“Is - is everybody all right?” came Giles’ voice tentatively in the blackness. Murmured voices answered, tripping over each other in the dark. Buffy, Dawn, Xander, Anya.
“Three by five,” Faith hissed. “I’ve popped my fucking shoulder again.”
“I’ll help you put it back in, but we’ll skip the rest this time, okay?” Xander offered.
“Whatever - ow, fuck it!” the injured Slayer cursed into the gloom.
“Willow? Willow, are you there?” Giles’ voice radiated concern.
“Here,” Will replied quietly.
“What was that spell, the second one?” Giles asked urgently. “What’s happened - to Tara?”
“I -” Willow could say no more; it was too dreadful to even consider that Tara might have been taken away from her again.
“Anyone have a light?” Buffy demanded.
“Where’s your lantern, Rupert?” Anya asked.
“Bloody hell, I’ve just been fighting half the vampires in Sunnydale, I’m grateful to be in one piece, I have no sodding idea where my light is.”
“Okay, Rupert, don’t bite my head off, I was just asking. Honestly, you can be such a git sometimes.” Anya sounded genuinely hurt and upset.
“Sorry. That was most insensitive of me,” Giles said sincerely.
A quiet silvery laugh interrupted the conversation. “
Fiat lux,” came the command, and a tiny blue light glowed in the air above them. Willow sat up, holding her aching body off the floor with her arms. And there in the middle of the magic circle was a crouched naked figure. In the dim blue light she looked like a nymph or an angel or some other ethereal creature, but as Willow looked more closely, familiar features were revealed to her; long straight fair hair hanging over the face, half-hiding a curve of cheek and jaw that took Willow’s breath away even at a distance, and a back as smooth and perfect as a marble statue’s. It was Tara.
Willow forgot her pain and hurled herself across the cavern floor. She cannoned into the huddled form and they fell together onto the cavern floor. Willow threw her arms around Tara, closed her eyes and squeezed and squeezed, sobbing, fearful that this was another nightmare or a phantasm and that in another moment Tara would vanish away again. But that didn’t happen.
“Ow! Willow, please, it hurts. I can’t breathe!” the blonde gasped. Willow dared to relax her embrace and open her eyes. Tara’s face swam before her astonished gaze, and her skin was warm to the touch. Those same calm eyes looked back at the redhead; and yes, her chest moved as she drew air in and out of her body. Willow placed a trembling hand beneath Tara’s breast and after a moment she could feel a steady, strong pulsation.
The beating of Tara’s heart.“Tara, Tara,” Willow murmured over and over, laying her head against her lover’s breast. The blonde stroked Willow’s hair and kissed it. “I’ve been so lost without you.”
“We found each other. W-We’ll always find each other.” The blonde looked around and saw the others slowly getting to their feet. Xander went to help Faith up. “Are you all right?” she asked Willow.
The redhead didn’t know whether to laugh or cry in response. “Am I all right? Everything’s all right, isn’t it?” Tara looked down at Willow and nodded.
Suddenly Giles remembered. “The Hellmouth? The Master?” He located his lantern and switched it on.
Tara waved her hand and sent her light across the room to play back and forth over the far wall. It was no longer polished; it was rough, unfinished rock like the other cavern walls. There was no trace of The Master. “Gone,” the blonde witch said. “The H-Hellmouth, The Master, all gone.”
“How?” the Watcher wondered.
“The white magic you infused into W-Willow to stop her, it blocked the dark magic in her. But it didn’t go away. All that power was still there, b-buried deep inside her. As pain,” Tara stood and helped Willow up, holding her, not wanting to let her go. “The Master helped me to access it; I couldn’t do it myself. It would have taken me months or years to drain all of it from Willow. With The Master’s help, I was able t-to channel all that power into two spells. Now, w-would someone care to lend me some clothes? Please.” Giles lent his jacket, which was just long enough to permit Tara a little modesty. They began the long walk back to the surface.
Next morning, Tara woke a little after sunrise in the bed she shared with Willow. She turned over, and was somewhat perplexed to find that she was alone in the room. The blonde got out of bed and crossed to the wardrobe. She saw her reflection in the mirror. “Hello! Nice to see you again!” she said brightly to herself, then frowned. What on earth was the matter with her hair? It was all tangled and sticking up. She tried to smooth it out and pat it down. “Does it always look like this in the mornings? Why did Willow never say anything?” she murmured.
When they had finally got home, Buffy had chased Dawn off to bed at once. The others had gone their separate ways; Faith had obviously hoped to be invited to sleep over by Buffy but this had not been forthcoming. Tara had felt a little sorry for the younger Slayer as she had left. Buffy had hovered in the kitchen for a dose of popcorn, while Willow had led Tara upstairs. They had disrobed silently and lay down in the bed together in a tight embrace.
“I don’t know what to say,” Willow had whispered at last. “This completely overwhelms me. I thought there would be no more miracles. Goddess; Saturday night I lost you, Monday night I found you, lost you and found you again. Tuesday night, you destroyed the Hellmouth and resurrected yourself.”
“We destroyed the Hellmouth, Will,” Tara had corrected her. “We resurrected me. I couldn’t have done it without you. And you getting me to bite you last night; that was inspired, where did that come from?”
“It was - instinct. I was something I just felt I had to do.”
“I’m so glad you trust your instincts.”
“And I love - loved vampire Tara. It’s strange to say this, but I’ll miss her.” The redhead had slipped down the bed a little, resting her head against the swell of Tara’s left breast. She kissed it softly and sighed, then nestled in closer while Tara gently stroked Willow’s slender back. “I can hear your heart beat,” Willow had said after a moment. “I could lie here and listen to that all night. How are you feeling?”
“Awestruck. Afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Life is so fragile,” Tara had said. “I’ve died three times now. I’ve been shot through the heart twice. It’s not something I can forget. Can I stand in front of a second floor window now without feeling terrified? In some ways, being a vampire was easy. Be smart, be careful, and you can live forever.”
“But that was never going to happen; The Master had his plan for you all along, it was only a matter of time.”
“I know Willow, but that’s how it
felt. It’s all changed. I’m mortal now. I have a mortal body. And you smell so…” Tara leaned in close and inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of Willow’s hair. “Good,” the blonde purred.
“I thought you had this amazing sense of smell as a vampire.”
“Oh yeah, sensitive like a shark. I could smell blood, trace the line of a vein under skin, find a live human in pitch darkness. But it’s not the same. Not like this…” Tara began to kiss Willow gently on the neck and cheek, continuing to breathe in the scent of Willow’s skin. “Nothing like this…” The blonde moved to Willow’s shoulder, chest and arm, cascading soft kisses onto fair skin.
“I’m sure it can’t be very nice there,” Willow said, meaning her underarms. “I haven’t showered for a while.”
“I know, it’s intoxicating; I forgot how good this is.” Tara’s kisses and caresses were becoming more urgent and impassioned. Willow slowly raked her nails up Tara’s back and pulled the blonde’s head close to hers, her quivering lips at last finding Tara’s in a deep, searching kiss. Tara moaned into Willow’s mouth, her teeth parting, her tongue slipping forward to meet Willow’s. The heat of it surprised Willow; she’d grown accustomed to vampire Tara’s coolness, but this new sensation made her pant. She could feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead; how long had it been?
“It’s like starting over,” Willow commented when their kiss ended. Tara was nuzzling at Willow’s neck, nipping at the most sensitive spots, making the redhead gasp and tremble, but the blonde grunted her assent.
Tara had raised her head long enough to smile and say, “Well, it’s sort of my first time, in this body. Please be gentle, to begin with.” Then she had lowered her head and reapplied her lips to Willow’s skin, inflaming it with the heat of her breath, nourishing it with her tongue and teasing with her teeth.
Bringing her mind back to the present, the blonde padded across the carpet to the curtains, closed tightly as had been the routine of late. A single bright crack of sunlight entered the room. Tentatively, Tara took hold of the curtain and drew it back. She almost flinched and jumped back as the bright light touched her skin. Emboldened, Tara raised her hand and stared at the sun through it, fascinated by the lines of red light between her fingers. A day ago, I’d be in flames if I tried this, she thought.
Flames. The heat rising from Willow’s body had felt like it was branding Tara’s skin, etching Willow’s name into it, marking Tara for life and beyond. It took only the slightest act of imagination to believe that the droplets of sweat falling from Tara’s brow would sizzle and steam when they touched the redhead’s freckled skin. The blonde had tasted Willow’s wetness, savoured it, rolled her lover around on the tip of her tongue.
I forgot how good it all tastes when you’re alive, she thought.
And each time she came, Willow screamed my name, and it was me. Really me .
Tara left the curtain open and went down the corridor to shower. She returned to the bedroom and dressed; just casual, light sweat shirt, cargo pants. She saw her guitar case against the wall. The house seemed so quiet; without her vampire ears, she couldn’t even tell if she was alone in the place or not. Tara unpacked her guitar, tuned it briefly and, diffidently at first, began to play.
Let it be me - this is not a fighting song
Let it be me - not a wrong for a wrong
Let it be me if the world is night
Shine my life like a lightTara stopped after one song, pursed her lips. That one sounds nicer with the vocal harmonies, she thought. I need to re-learn all my breathing technique, too. And Goddess, my hand! I’m going to need to get some nylon strings for a while until I build the calluses up.
Hands. Willowhands. After burning her name into my skin with the heat of her body, my Willow sealed it with her touch, Tara thought. Her fingers were as fine as camel hair brushes and they swept me along towards bliss. Each fingertip as pure and hot as a candle flame. Her fire, scorching my red earth, a purifying flame making me new again in the pure glow of her love. I dug my nails into her back; I felt myself bursting and I screamed. And afterwards, I could taste myself on those magic fingers and it was ecstasy redoubled.
Tara glanced at the clock. It was still quite early. Where was everybody? The blonde witch left the bedroom and went downstairs. She found Willow and Dawn engrossed over the hacker’s laptop in the kitchen. Willow’s face split into a broad grin when she saw Tara, Dawn likewise. Tara greeted her love with a kiss to the lips, and then she hugged Dawn. She stood in the sunlight by the window, letting the angled rays warm her back.
“Enjoying the novelty?” Willow asked wickedly. “The warm sun beating down in a non-fatal way?”
“It’s nice,” Tara answered. “I’ve missed so many things. What are you doing?”
“Willow’s getting you a new identity,” Dawn smiled.
“What’s wrong with the old one?” Tara asked.
“Slight problem with being legally dead,” Willow replied.
“Oh.”
“But it’s okay, you can be almost anyone you want,” the hacker added. “I’ve managed to find a nice little town in Hicksville which had a fire in its birth registry in the early 80s. I can slot you in there nicely. You’re newly arrived in Sunnydale, you need your duplicate birth records, and they were burned to ash years ago. It’s easier to enter a new record than amend an existing one; not so many security levels. I’ll do one for Faith tonight, too.”
“But do you know the coolest thing?” Dawn said excitedly. Tara shook her head, smiling at the teenager’s infectious enthusiasm. “You can be legally male!”
Tara did a double-take. “Cool? Sorry, you’ve l-lost me.”
“You and Willow,” Dawn launched into her idea. “If you’re a male, you guys can legally marry, adopt a child.”
Tara was silent. She looked at Willow. Willow grimaced, as if to say, “don’t look at me, it’s her idea, she’s really sold on it.” The blonde looked back at Dawn, realised that she was being genuine. Tara took a deep breath.
“D-Dawn,” the blonde witch began, “I understand why you’ve made that suggestion and it’s - really sweet of you, but - if I did that, if I lied to get those things, what would I achieve? Yes, I want the state to recognise that Willow and I are life partners. Not that we’ve asked each other yet or anything, but I’m hopeful.” Tara winked at Willow. “Yes, I would like the right to adopt a child and raise it with Willow. Heck, I’ve even thought of adopting
you. You’re only three years old, and I’d love the idea of you mooching off us for the next couple of decades. But no.” Tara stepped away from the window, crossed the floor and put her arm around Willow. The redhead returned the caress, looked up and smiled briefly at Tara. “I am a woman, and I love another woman. This woman. If we are to adopt or marry or get a mortgage or whatever, I want our relationship to be recognised for what it is. Not to pretend that we’re something we’re not.”
Chastened, Dawn looked down and said simply, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Tara melted and embraced the teenager. She looked back at Willow, who now wore a troubled, pensive expression.
“We keep saving the world; but we never seem to change it,” Will mused. “And you’d better get to school, young lady.” Dawn nodded and left, kissing them both. “Thank you,” Willow said to Tara when the front door had closed.
“What for?”
“Not biting Dawn’s head off. She got the idea into her head and she wouldn’t let it go. I had to shut up or I would have said something - harsh. You always know the right thing to say.” The redhead entwined her fingers with Tara’s briefly. “Now, all I need from you is a name. I’ve given you your old birthday.”
“I still want to be Tara,” the witch answered.
“First name, ‘Tara’, check,” Willow said, tapping at the keyboard. “And the rest?”
“I was born a Maclay. I know I’ve l-left my family behind, but it’s not something I’ll ever be truly free of. And I sacrificed my own brother so I could live again, I guess that’s gotta count for something. Maybe it can be my middle name.”
“Okay. Surname?”
Tara thought about this. “How about my mother’s birth name?”
“Sure,” Willow smiled. “Um, Tara, what is it?”
“Morgan,” Tara replied, with just the shadow of a smile.
“There,” Willow finished. “You should have your duplicate papers delivered here in a few days. You’ll have to re-take the college entrance. Sorry, Tara, some things I just can’t do.” The redhead closed down her laptop.
“So, do you have the day off work?” Tara asked, noticing the time.
“Anya phoned first thing. She’s selling the shop. She swore me to secrecy but I’ll tell you anyway. She said that with the Hellmouth gone, business is going to pancake. She’s ceased trading as of today. That way the books and the cash flow will still look perfect to any prospective buyers.”
“So you’re out of work.”
“Yeah. She’s giving me a small redundancy payout, which she really didn’t have to do at all, so I’m happy. And I’m a lady of leisure. Got something in mind, Tara Maclay Morgan?” Willow looked at Tara suggestively, smiling.
“Yes, Willow. Could we go upstairs now? There’re a couple of important things we need to talk about.”
The moment they entered the bedroom, Willow embraced Tara fiercely, backed her up and began kissing her. The blonde found herself thrust against the wall with such force that there was an audible crack. For a terrified instant, Willow wondered if she had broken one of Tara’s ribs, but the blonde witch was kissing her red-haired partner with such ardour that it seemed unlikely. Willow began to search for the waistband of Tara’s pants.
“Mmm…Xander,” Tara murmured.
“Okay, not quite the response I was looking for,” Willow replied, puzzled.
“We might need to get him in here and check that drywall,” Tara said. “I think you broke our bedroom.”
Willow giggled, and began to tug at Tara’s top. She leaned in for more kisses.
“Wait…”
“Tara?”
“Not yet, I want to - you know, talk,” the blonde witch sounded a little upset.
“What about?” Willow nuzzled at Tara’s neck.
“Two killings - Warren and Rack.”
(To be continued)
by Zahir al Daoud » Thu Sep 19, 2002 12:24 pm 
has been very special to me, too. Sad to see her gone. 
in the bedroom, not do the thing with all the word-y discussion. But if she wants to verbally exchange thoughts and ideas, Instead of physically exchanging saliva and...... WOAH, nauhty Unity, get back on track.
)
.
Oh and the guitar strings. 
to straighten out. 
I Love Weddings!!! 
Willow in tux? I must admit I pinched the idea from Virginia in "The Braithwaites". She looked great in one too.
I just realized that a whole lot of characters end up being gay 
