Well here we go.
LC... can't even find anything icky around here. Slimy sometimes and perhaps stinky but never icky. So I'm safe.
Here is what should have been the end. But it's not. I hope that you all enjoy it.
Chapter 38
The light of day slipped quietly behind the trees surrounding the cemetery. Tara climbed from her wife’s lap reluctant to leave the peaceful spot. She reached toward her wife, helping her from the ground. Their hands held fast, tightly intertwining as they stood silently in front of the grave marker. Willow turned patiently, walking out of the gated plot toward the awaiting Jeep. The redhead knew that what her wife needed was time. The past seemed to slowly absorb into the tender reflective soul of her beloved.
She watched Tara. She felt the space between them fill with the celebration of living, the joy of being together and moving into what they had become.
Abbey walked slowly from the truck, carrying her crayons and notebook. She passed her mother, cautiously moving into the family plot. Her tiny fingers reached for Tara’s. “Mommy?”
“Yes Abbey girl?” She turned her attention to the young child. Watching the soft breeze shift the spiraling tendrils of blonde across the petite face.
“Can we rub Gramma’s stone?” She lifted her notebook, innocently asking the question with her eyes.
Tara smiled, lowering herself to the ground beside her daughter, tucking the stray hairs behind the tiny ear. Together they opened the page of her book. Abbey pressed the layer across the tombstone. Carefully, she peeled the label off the blue crayon, pausing briefly to slip the curled remnants into her mother’s open hand. Her eyes exploded, delighting as she waved the color across the paper, each stroke creating a permanent copy of her grandmother’s name. Abbey washed over the entire page with blue, content as her crayon rubbed from edge to edge. Her eyes widened as Tara lifted her hand to trace the scrolled letters of her mother’s name.
“What do you think Ab?” Tara held the paper against the stone.
“It’s perfect mommy.” She pulled her hands into her lap as Tara lowered the book bridging the gap between the surfaces of their legs.
“It is Abbey. It really is.”
Abigail folded the cover of the book closing the page against a tall blade of grass she’d picked from the site. Together they stood taking in one last glance at the plot where their family peacefully rested.
Tara took her child’s hand and together they walked toward Willow and the waiting group.
“All set to go?” The redhead smiled at her girls.
“Let’s go home Will.” Her arms fell limp against the waist of her lover. “I’m tired. I just want to get home.”
“What about the cabin?”
“I don’t need to go there. It isn’t who we are anymore.” Tara’s head fell against the soft warmth of her wife’s shoulder. “We don’t need to hide in shame and darkness. Whatever is in that place is the past. I don’t want to go back anymore.”
“Are you certain Tara?”
“I am Will. I’m not going there. I just want to see what’s coming for us. I think we spent enough time looking back.” Together they walked around the truck. Willow opened the driver’s door, helping Tara into the seat. She closed her body tightly between her lover’s thighs, drawing closely into the embrace.
“So home then?” The redhead asked between tender kisses.
“Mmm hmm.” Tara melted into the sound of agreement, enjoying the love in the serenity of a peace filled moment. They pulled back from the kiss. Willow stared at her wife with adoration. Tara returned a shy loving smile. “Home sweetie.”
The redhead closed the driver side door slowly stepping around the back of the jeep. She watched as Anya and Buffy laughed in the car behind them. She could only imagine the conversation coming from the vehicle.
Buffy caught a glimpse of the red head quickly turning her attention to the young boy. “So what did you come up with?” She remained focused on Patrick as Anya reached into her pocket. Xander shifted the car into drive, following the carload of Wicca’s in front of them.
“Damn!” The ex-demon yelled from the front seat of the car. “Damn… Damn… Damn!” She smacked Xander’s shoulder with the back of her hand. “Where did it go?”
“The what now?” Xander rubbed his arm. “Who? What now?”
Anya huffed at his inability to read her frustration. “My card. What do you think?”
“Card?” He focused his attention back to the road, sliding toward the driver’s door to escape the span of his lover’s arm. “You had a card?”
“The tally!”
Buffy laughed as the ex-demon screamed at her husband, the entire time feeling the soft caress of the tiny child strapped into the car seat beside her. The Harris’s argued wildly in the seat in front of them as Buffy put a few incidents of day together. “Card?” Her first response too quiet to be heard over the banter. “Hey! I found a card.”
Anya turned sharply toward the slayer. “Fighting here.” Her hair fanned like a wild flowing skirt as her head spun round toward Xander. “Rude much?”
Xander smiled at the distraction. “Ahn… I think she has…” A hand smacked across his shoulder as the ex-vengeance demon processed the slayer’s words. With two quick smacks he was silenced.
“Xander be quiet. I’m listening to Buffy.” She turned around once more. “You were saying about a card?”
The slayer huffed, attempting to decide whether to share the info or not. “Forget it!” She smiled reaching to hold Patrick’s hand, his tiny eyes wide from the playful conversation. His body jerked as he watched Anya smacking Xander. “And stop hitting! You’re scaring Patty.”
“Stop calling him that!” Anya spat at the slayer. “It’s excessively feminine. Call him Pat.”
“He likes Patty!” His grip tightened around the slayer’s arm. “It’s just for the two of us anyway, so just leave us alone and stop hitting people.”
Anya glared at the slayer and her young charge. “Fine, call him whatever makes you happy now can we get back to the card? Did you find it?”
“Oh that.” The slayer smirked, leaning in toward Anya. “I found this on the floor in the hotel room.” She pulled the piece of paper from her back pocket. “Is this what you are looking for?”
The ex-demon laughed as she took the paper from her friend’s hand, flipping it over to see the letters and numbers on the opposite side. She crawled over the seat quickly wrapping around the slayer’s neck, smothering her in a tight embrace, her hand patting as Buffy worked hard to pull away from the vise like hold.
Xander winced as the sole of Anya’s shoe rubbed and pinched the flesh of his forearm. He pulled away swerving off into the gravel. “Hey!” He pushed her body away, quickly trying to gain control of the car. “Anya sit down.” He scolded as her body flopped back into the seat.
Willow caught a glimpse through the rear window, quickly motioning to pull over to the side of the road.
Tara turned toward her wife. “What’s the matter sweetie?” She followed Willow’s vision, turning around to look at Xander and Anya flopping in the front seat of the stopped car.
“Not sure.” She turned her body around reaching to open the door. “Let me go have a look.”
“Wait.” The blonde moved the car into reverse, backing slowly toward the second car. “There you go, nearly door to door service.”
“Impressive maneuvers you have there.” The redhead winked and smiled, planting a soft kiss on her lover’s lips as she exited the car.
Tara watched through the back window admiring her sleepy child, as her eyes trailed up toward her lover. Willow stood watching Anya and Xander wiggling in their front seat. Tara smiled at the sight of her family enjoying the humor of the unique relationships.
“What’s going on mommy?” Abbey spoke in her dreamy state.
“Nothing sweetie.” She reached to tenderly caress her daughter’s soft closing eyes. “Just the grownups having fun.
“HEY!”
Tara looked up to see Willow reaching inside the car.
“HEY!” The redhead screamed again, grabbing the card from Anya’s hand.
Tara opened her door, standing half inside and half outside of the car. “Will?” She waited for the fiery redhead to look at her.
She turned to direct her attention toward Tara. “They’re doing it again.”
The blonde called her wife back to the car. “Come stay with Abbey.” Tara raised a gentle hand toward her lover’s face, tenderly taking hold to the soft flesh of her neck. “Let me talk to them.” She pulled Willow into a passionate kiss. As their lips separated Willow stood dazed by the sensation of her lover’s tenderness. Tara plucked the card from Willow’s fingers, pushing her numbed wife down into the drivers seat. “I’ll be right back.”
Willow nodded and smiled folding herself into the car, closing the door. She rested her head against the seat, pressing her palms against the molded plastic of the steering wheel. “Goddess I love you Tara!” the words floated through the car. A knowing smile lifted up from the soft lips of her half sleeping daughter.
Tara approached the Scooby gang, leaning into the open window. Anya felt a hand fall upon her shoulder. “Anya!” Tara’s tone echoed through the car. All sound halted as full attention focused on the blonde. “Is this card tallying what I think it is tallying?”
The ex-demon nodded, confirming the answer.
“Explain it please.” Tara kept a solemn stare.
“Well it’s the pants thing.” Anya stared with confusion. “You know.” She attempted a playful punch on the arm. “We’ve been playing it for years.”
“Well yes I know the game.” Tara’s eyes brightened as a grin pressed from the corners of her lips. “ I want to know what the tally is.”
Buffy giggled from the back seat whispering. “You wicked wicked woman.”
Tara winked. “Sometimes.”
Anya proceeded to explain every incident provoking each mark on the paper. After a few moments, Tara walked back toward her wife and child. Satisfied, she pulled the redhead from the driver’s seat.
Willow stared at the blonde. “How’d it go?”
“Well seems to be going quite well.”
The redhead tilted her head with confusion, eyes widening as she watched her wife smile. “Going?”
Tara laughed as she escorted her wife to the passenger seat. “Well we apparently continue to frustrate Anya.” The blonde reached toward the door handle, feeling the soft skin of her lover’s hand grabbing hold.
“Tara, please don’t take me into the smutty frustrated mind of Anya Harris.”
“Willow.” The blonde laughed at her wife. “The only smutty mind you’ll be traveling in is mine.” She winked pushing the redhead against the truck. “Besides this isn’t smut frustration it’s all from losing the battle sweetie.”
“The battle?” She felt herself press firm against the cold metal as their bodies slowly made contact.
“Oh Will. She just hates the fact that we’re never more than a hug and a kiss away from being evenly matched.”
“I’m not supporting it Tara.” Willow closed her eyes, frustrated by the ongoing game. “This has to stop. It’s going to send the wrong message to the kids.”
“Oh sweetie please…” Tara kissed her playfully. “It’s harmless and really Willow they have been playing this game for almost six years and we’ve never been more that two or three away from one another.”
“Really?” the redhead looked in disbelief. “I never really payed much attention and Anya always seems to point out when I’m behind.”
Tara laced her fingers around the loops of her wife’s skirt. Her arms released slowly, pulling them tighter together. “It’s just Anya’s way of leveling the playing field sweetie.”
“Tara… she’s nowhere near us. They can’t even come close to touching the love that we share.”
“So then why does this bother you so very much.”
She looked lovingly into the blonde’s eyes. “We are more than her game. I just don’t like being a joke between everyone.”
“But we aren’t.” Tara raised her hand slowly, cupping the redhead’s face. “Sweetie, don’t you realize what we are to them. We’re family. We’re hope and joy and peace and compassion and love. Baby we are so much to all of them. You have to see that.”
“We are and I do. It’s just that I don’t want to be the comic relief too.” Willow twisted to move away from her wife. “It’s not funny to me Tara.”
Tara held tight to her wife pressing the two of them tightly together. “After all this time you can’t see the love in this?” Their eyes locked on each other’s. “You have to let them be a part of us Will.”
“How is keeping track of who’s wearing what a part of anything. If I wear pants and you wear pants and then I get a skirt are you getting one and then if we are both in one can you really notch the pants bedpost. I mean really Tara what’s the good in keeping track anyway if we are never more than a few scores apart. And with Anya keeping track I’m surprised the scales aren’t lofted in your favor and why is anyone even keeping track anyway?”
“Well I’m sure this would have ended a long time ago if we weren’t a challenge.”
Willow raised a brow. “We’re a challenge?”
“We defy so much by being together sweetie.”
“But doesn’t it bother you?”
The blonde smiled softly. “It only bothers me when you are ahead.” She winked, moving in to tenderly press her lips to her lovers.
“Oh and am I?” Willow pressed the pale pink flesh of her tongue between her teeth, hoping to hear a positive answer.
“Well it appears that my family brought out the best and most protective features in you.” Their bodies separated.
“And that means what?” Willow felt her competitive nature combined with curiousity. “Who’s wearing the pants in this relationship?”
“Are you sure that you want to know?”
The redhead hesitated. “Maybe not.” She reached for the handle of the car door, pulling it open quickly.
Tara walked around the truck, folding her hand into the sign for I love you. She pressed it against the glass as she passed by Abbey’s window. “So what do you say we head home?” The women in the car agreed.
The drive back to Sunnydale was quiet and uneventful. Abbey paged through her book reliving the memories of the trip. Willow watched adoringly as the tiny blonde drifted peacefully to sleep. The night was crisp and warm as they discussed the future of their family and the long road ahead with young Patrick.
The gang arrived shortly before noon the following day. Tara rested in her seat as she parked the car. Anxious to go inside but blissful in the moment. Willow held her hand, knowing the stillnes of peace would fade.
Anya’s voice broke the silence. “Hey you gonna pry Buffy off the kid so we can get out of here?”
Tara turned toward the ex-demon. “In a minute. Just start unpacking his stuff.”
Willow reached for the handle of the door, releasing the serenity into the crisp afternoon air. “I’ll get Patrick.”
Willow walked over to the waiting car, watching Buffy struggle with the buckle of the safety seat. “Need a hand Buff?”
“I think I got…” She squeezed the button, releasing the strap from its home. “See! No slayer strength required.”
“Oh, good! Slayer strength defeats the car seat.” Willow laughed, reaching to take the young boy from the slayer. “Ready to see your new house Mister?”
Buffy smiled following the group inside. Patrick clung tight to the redhead, pressing the steely edge of his braces against her petite form. The slayer watched her wince at the sensation.
“Would you like me to?” Buffy pointed with her eyes. “I seem to be able to take a bit more pain.”
“Sure Buffy. I think he’d like to have you here for a while anyway.” The group walked slowly into the house. Abbey held tight to her mother’s hand, grinning and releasing a sigh of pleasure.
“Happy to be home my girl?” Tara felt the tiny hand release it’s grip.
“Oh yes mommy. I’m very happy to be home.” The tiny blonde dropped her science bag and notebook in the middle of the entrance hall, racing up the stairs to her room.
Patrick giggled as he watched his cousin bouncing hand and foot upward. He wiggled to free himself from the slayer’s arms and follow. Buffy gently lowered him to the floor watching as he struggled to climb. She stepped forward to help as Tara reached to grab the slayer’s arm.
“Wait Buffy, give him a chance.”
Shocked, Buffy fought the urge to catch him if he fell. The tiny boy slowly made his way, step by step, his small hand gripping tightly to the railing. He paused a few stairs from the top, looking down at the women below. His eyes moved back to the climb ahead of him and once more toward the slayer. Beaming with pride he looked at Buffy.
“I climbed.” He held tightly to the railing, touching his chest proudly with his free hand. “Patty climbed.” Without waiting for a response the boy turned to finish his ascent to new territory. Once at the top he called to his cousin, following the voice into Abbey’s room. He stood frozen in the doorway, captivated by the mural covered walls.
“It’s really neat isn’t it?” She reached for his hand, guiding him into the room.
The boy was silent, his mouth wide with awe. He stepped to the center of the room, slowly lowering himself to the floor. He lay on his back silently taking in the warth of the room.
Abbey raced to the stairs. “Mommy!” She yelled down to Tara. Before the blonde could take another breath Buffy bounded three steps at a time til she reached the top. She chased into the room, pausing sharply in the doorway to watch the child sprawled out on the floor. Tara and Abigail stood beside the slayer, silently watching the sight.
“Shh…” Abbey scolded them. “He really likes the pictures on the walls.”
“We can see that.” Buffy ran her hand across the child’s head, fluffing her curly golden tresses.
“Maybe I can paint his room too.” Tara squatted beside her daughter, wrapping her arms tightly around the child.
“Can we help?”
“Oh definaltey!” Tara kissed Abbey. “With as much as possible.”
“YAY!” Buffy clapped. She paused as the two blondes glared. “What? I can be creative.”
Tara raised a brow, mirrored in size and style by her daughter.
“Hey!” Buffy yelled offended. “I can.”
“Well you’ll get plenty of opportunity to show us your painting skills but not today.”
Tara rolled a few blankets out on the bedroom floor. Patrick scooted onto them wildly shifting his body into a comfortable position. Abbey lay beside him, cosying up to stare at her well know walls.
“It’s pretty huh?”
He nodded, silently dreaming of wild adventures in the hand painted forest.
Tara and Buffy quietly left them to explore the fantasies of childhood. They walked down the stairs and made their way into the kitchen. Willow stood next to the table, ending a conversation on the phone.
“Nothing in the fridge. I ordered some take out.”
“Thanks sweetie.” Tara cuddled into her lover’s lap. “ I was just wondering what we would do. I really don’t feel like cooking tonight anyway.”
“Well then my baby, consider the kitchen open for beverages and smoochies.”
“What about for me?” The slayer laughed at the lovers.
“Beverages. You get beverages only.” Willow glared at her best friend.
“Pants!” Buffy mumbled under her breath as she walked to the refrigerator. She smelled the carton of carrot juice. She reached for a tall glass filling it to the top.
“And so what if it is?” Willow kissed her wife. “I’m feeling rather pantsy today.”
“Are you now?” Tara stared at the redhead, smiling with satisfaction. “I’m feeling kinda not pantsy.”
“Ooh, are we changing the rating in the kitchen?” Willow watched as the slayer gulped her glass of juice.
“Ewwww!” Buffy wiped the residue from her lips.
“Hey our kitchen, our rating change!” Willow scolded the slayer. “Can’t take the heat. GO away!”
“I can take anything you dish Will but the carrot juice tastes like pineapple.” She poured the carton into the sink. “Better put this on the grocery list.” She tossed the empty container into the trash. “You order enough to satisfy a slayer appetite?
“Well I ordered enough food.” The redhead smiled. “If you’re hungry for anything else you’re on your own.”
Buffy walked from the kitchen, finding a resting place on the living room couch. She flopped down slipping her shoes off and slinging her legs onto the sofa. “Wake me when there’s food.”
The women walked through the living room, toward the front porch. Willow climbed the stairs, taking a moment to look at the sleeping children cuddled on the floor. Tara slipped a soft blanket over the hard edges of the front porch swing, propping herself into the comfort of their space. The redhead pushed open the screen door, lingering in the open doorway. Her heart pounding hard in her chest as the sound of the squeaking swing moved around them.
“Oh baby we’re home aren’t we?” She watched the blonde padding the floorboards, sweeping the swing slowly back and forth.
“Come here.” Tara stopped the motion, allowing the redhead space in the comfort of her arms. The Willow slipped between her legs sliding alongside the soft skin of her lover.
“I missed this place more than anything.” Her cold fingers trailed across Tara’s warm abdomen. She relaxed against the safety of her lover’s body.
Tara reached quickly, stopping the icy roaming hand. “Which place is that exactly?”
“Home.”
TBC
__________________**
Peace is not the absence of conflict; it's the absence of inner conflict. Unknown 
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Just kidding I LOVE this fic! 
I shall gush later!!
)
I’m all updated 
Thanks so much for writing 
–Viv- 
WOW, what has changed in your life...your website...your pictures...hope it's good "stuff" whatever it is. Your fic ,"The Look of Love" was the first fic I started on this site and got me hooked on the Pens because you spoiled me with your almost daily updates. Your's was the standard I judged all others by, ...so how come you have treated this beautiful heartwarming story so poorly? Surely you plan to finish it sometime before Abbey graduates from college ! I hope that is not too harsh, but it is a shame to abandon such a thoughtful, loving, intelligent story. A quick end is better than no end.
) there's another chapter coming and then ANOTHER after that!!! Whoohwooo! 
<<<<<- ROFLMAO!!!!!!
Edited by: 
You re-read the whole fic. Wow... now you have found all the errors and unfinished parts. I might actually have to break out the notebook and double check all those nasty loose ends.
at: 4/21/03 4:50:21 am
at: 4/22/03 2:11:33 am