"This from a man who eats his toast burnt." Willow joked as she stepped to the side and happily announced, "Look who woke up again."
Tara watched as Dawn dropped the towel she was holding on the kitchen counter, began towards her, but then stopped, just as Buffy's face opened up into a wide smile, and Giles put down his mug. Overwhelmed, she stopped short as well.
"Tara?" The teen asked and then wrinkled her nose at the obviousness of her question. Starting over, she explained. "I know that already. I mean how are you feeling?"
"Better." Tara replied. Never happy with being the center of attention, she tried a joke. "Not so sleepy." And then felt the color rush into her cheeks. Falling back on old habits, she tipped her head so that her hair would sweep forward.
From her side, Tara heard Willow murmur, "Hey, none of that," as the red head quickly reached up with her other hand and retucked the hair behind Tara's ear.
Dawn inched closer. "We're making pasta for dinner, but we managed to burn up the zucchini twice, so I wouldn't hold out a lot of hope." Her eyes caught on Tara's hand clutching Willow's, and it was all she could do to remember that the Tara who stood before her was not the Tara from before. Afraid she was about to cry, Dawn looked down and noticed that the cuffs of Tara's sweatpants hung over her feet and fell against the floor. She flashed on a memory of the night before, of Tara happily standing in the yard watching Willow take the groceries from the car, heedless that the cuffs of her pants were growing damp from the wet grass. A breath shuddered through her. "But we're making garlic toast, and that's always pretty good."
"Everything smells w-wonderful." Tara replied softly. Not sure what else to say, she remarked. "You must be Dawn."
Hearing Tara say her name, all of her resistances broke away. Nodding, unable to stop herself, Dawn finished moving across the kitchen and wrapped herself into Tara's arms. She knew she was making a spectacle of herself in front of her sister, Willow and Giles, but she didn't care. Instead she cuddled deeper, knowing that both her Taras understood.
From the stove Buffy's throat closed with tears as she watched her little sister dive into Tara's arms, and then watched Tara's hands seemingly instinctually begin to stroke the teen's hair. When the two self-consciously moved apart, Buffy quickly claimed the attention by asking, "Okay, just answer one question. How do you feel about kidney beans?"
Blinking as she tried to catch up, Tara tactfully explained, "They're not my favorite." Only to become even more confused when Dawn unexpectedly burst into giggles. "Did I miss something?"
"It's more like you confirmed something." Dawn chortled.
"A few nights back Buffy made kidney bean soup for dinner, and you didn't seem to care for it very much." Willow explained, through her own giggles. "It's a long story."
Her face turning scarlet, Tara sputtered at Buffy, "I'm so sorry. I would never ..."
Hands in mid-air, starting to giggle herself, Buffy cut Tara off, "Tara, don't apologize. I didn't like the soup either."
Enjoying what he feared had become the all to rare sound of laughter in the Summers' kitchen, Giles used his most stuffy tone to ask if Tara was hungry, explaining that while kidney bean soup was no longer being served, a possibly delicious pasta primavera was intended for dinner, intentionally sending Willow, Dawn, and Buffy into another spate giggles.
Not entirely understanding what was so funny, but starting to relax despite herself, Tara began smiling as well. When Giles re-asked his question, she admitted, "Right now, a little, more thirsty than hungry, I think."
"Perhaps a glass of cold water." Giles said, rising from one of the kitchen stools and heading towards the refrigerator. "And it might be a good idea for you to sit down." He took out the water jug from the top shelf and he filled an empty glass handed to him by Buffy, and then handed it off to Dawn who handed it off to the girl. "We were wondering if you remember anything from earlier this evening."
Tara accepted the glass of cold water from Dawn and took a sip before responding. "Not really. It's kind of fuzzy. Willow told me I came into the kitchen and then fainted." She moved to the stool Giles had offered her and sat down.
Giles pulled of his glasses and inspected the lenses. "Fainted or collapsed, it's hard to say. In any event, before you passed out, you surprised us by greeting Dawn and asking me when I'd returned from England."
Tara sensed Willow stepping closer, almost hovering behind her, and leaned back, letting her back brush against the red head's shoulder. She shook her head. "I can see why that would be surprising."
"Will thinks she may have mentioned Giles name to you." Buffy offered as she tested one of the penne noodles.
Tara thought for a moment, before glancing at Giles. "Plus, I heard stories of your counterpart in my reality. He led a cadre called the White Hats and was greatly respected."
Not wanting to press the issue, and blushing slightly at the mention of his counterpart, Giles nodded and returned his glasses to his face. "In any event, you seem to be on the mend now."
Dawn stepped closer to the kitchen island. "Do you remember anything from the past week?"
Tara nodded fondly at the teen. "Bits and pieces." A half smile formed on her face and she sat forward on her stool, leaning towards Dawn. "I remember eating peanut butter, jelly and banana slice sandwiches and tomato soup." Delighting in Dawn's corresponding grin, she added, "and watching cartoons."
"Good lord, how could you forget? Remind me to never convalesce at Revello drive." Giles said with a mock shudder.
Pretending to ignore the librarian, Dawn pressed. "What about today? Do you remember going to Stefan's for your hair cut?"
Tara fingered the ends of her hair. "Sort of." Her brow furrowed. "I remember more clearly watching it rain from inside Willow's car, and Willow falling in a big puddle while we were running in the park."
Willow moved her hand to Tara's shoulder and squeezed. "So you can't remember the six foot red head who wearing skin tight leather pants and who washed and cut your hair, but you can remember the five foot three inch red head who slipped in a puddle and landed on her butt." She brought her other hand to Tara's waist and wrapped her fingers inside the hem of the girl's sweatshirt, before whispering. "Very nice."
Whispering as well, Tara added. "I also remember a five foot three inch red head who took me out for a picnic," before reaching up to close her fingers around Willow's.
The room fell into a momentary silence as everyone made their adjustments to each other's presence. Tara's eyes tracked from Dawn to Buffy to Giles. Their concern for Willow was obvious. She also noticed Giles' and Buffy's eyes focus for a moment on Willow's hand in hers, and she tracked Dawn's quick glance at Willow's hand on her waist. Embarrassed, she resisted the urge to shake free of Willow's grasp, needing the red head's reassuring contact more than the others approval, and then realized that the other's curiosity was anything but disapproving.
A memory of sitting on the couch with Willow and Dawn, while Buffy built a fire in the fireplace swept forward in her mind, followed by another, of Xander coming into the front room carrying two large bowls of popcorn. Most of her life she had rarely felt like anything other than an intruder: the odd girl out in school, the not quite daughter in her foster families, and the witch among normals. Only with her cadres had she known what it felt like to be accepted, to be welcome. And now she knew that feeling again, here in the Summers kitchen among people that she barely knew, but who clearly cared about her.
She looked up into Willow's eyes and for a moment lost herself in the color of the true earth before she spoke. "And I remember being tucked in at night." Caught up in yet another memory, this one of helping her put on a bright blue rain slicker, Tara did not notice Buffy and Giles quick exchange of glances or Dawn's happy grin.
Happy beyond understanding why, Dawn teased. "But do you remember Willow's bedtime stories about Miss Kitty Fantastico, the wonder cat?"
Willow's delight over the girl's affectionate gaze shifted into awkward embarrassment at the mention of the Miss Kitty stories. Grinning weakly, she sent up a silent prayer that Dawn would see not see fit to mention the funny voices she sometimes put on when telling the tales. Some things did not need to be shared in front of Giles.
Catching Tara's now quizzical expression, Willow explained. "Miss Kitty was Tara's and my cat, but she ran away after there was an accident of sorts." Not at all ready to explain that Miss Kitty had run off after a hell god had torn down the outer wall of her lover's dorm room, she jumped ahead in the story, adding, "After Miss Kitty ran off, we made up a whole bunch of stories about the adventures of a sneaky cat to make ourselves feel better."
"Miss Kitty, kitten of mystery, Miss Kitty and the lost tomb of the Incas, Miss Kitty and the alien menace, Miss Kitty and the modern minotaur." Dawn supplied, noting Willow's awkward blush but unable to quiet her enthusiasm.
"Why am I guessing Tara isn't alone in her enjoyment of the tales of the kitten?" Giles ventured, giving Dawn a measuring gaze and trying ease Willow's obvious embarrassment, and not at all guessing that he was its source.
Unaware of Willow's embarrassment, or Giles' gentle admonishment of Dawn, Tara slowly acknowledged. "Miss Kitty must have been a very brave little cat." The image of a small kitten formed in her mind and she could not help but ask, "Did she have one white leg?"
"No, Miss Kitty was multi-colored." Willow said, her forehead wrinkling. "Are you remembering another cat?"
"I'm not sure." She admitted. Unaware, she leaned closer to Willow as a new wave of nervousness passed through her. There was something about a cat, and it was important, but try as she might, she could not tease the thought forward.
An awkward silence suddenly filled the room. Not understanding what had just happened, Dawn offered "Besides being sneaky, Miss Kitty loved half and half and catnip."
"And playing with balls of string." Buffy chimed in. Still standing next to the stove, she watched as Willow's body seemed to close around Tara's. Something had just spooked the girl, and she wished she knew what it was. With amazement, she also watched the girl's worry fade away as quickly as it appeared, her body seeming to respond instantly to Willow's touch. Ready to ask what had just happened, she noticed Giles shake his head and announced instead, while holding up a penne noodle speared on a fork. "Speaking of food, and I mean people food, not cat food, I'm calling this is al dente. Anyone else want to check?"
Dawn started to move towards the stove, but then stopped as she caught the expression on her sister's face. "I'm sure the pasta is fine." She announced, before pivoting on her heel and heading back towards the cupboard. "So, dining room as opposed to sacking out in front of the television?"
"Please Dawn." Giles responded delighted they would be dodging the bullet of American informality for his first night back. He favored Buffy with a glance that said they would discuss things later, and then asked Dawn, "Could you use some help?"
"Maybe you could bring in the glasses while I grab the plates?" Dawn asked slipping past Willow as she headed towards the cupboard.
Tara wasn't sure if it was the actual food, the company, or Willow's close proximity, but dinner was utterly delicious. Making the meal even more enjoyable, talk of Giles flight, and Buffy's job at the high school helped keep the attention off of her, giving her time to regroup and to see the bonds of true friendship that held together the Scoobies.
Before, she'd been in too much pain to notice the ease with which Buffy and Willow could signal their thoughts to one another, but now she could see the effect of years of comradeship between the two. Buffy and Willow were a team the way Sam and Marty had been, and she could not help but envy them their friendship. Although she knew that Giles has been away for some time, it was obvious that his place in their cadre had never been filled, and Buffy, Willow and Dawn were delighted to have him back. And as for Dawn, the teen was exactly as Willow had described, ricocheting between eight and thirty-eight with startling swiftness. But despite her occasional teenage missteps, Tara also witnessed in the teen a shy kindness combined with a real intelligence. She smiled inwardly; it was no wonder that Willow adored her.
Watching all of them interact, her worries about falling behind on her mission eased considerably, but not entirely. There was no shaking her deep concern that none of them really understood what they were up against. Resolving to remedy that problem as soon as possible, she was drawn from her contemplations as a warm hand moved lightly over her thigh. She looked into questioning eyes, smiled weakly and whispered. "Sorry, I guess I got a little distracted."
"More food, less distraction." Willow whispered back as she took her hand away from Tara's thigh and then reached for the serving bowl. A faint smile dancing on her face, she added. "If you're going to fight that big bad of yours, then you're going to have to regain your strength pronto, missy."
Tara's eyes widened as Willow refilled her plate and she wondered how she would ever finish Willow's idea of a reasonable second helping, but several stories later, all focusing on Dawn's high school misadventures, she looked down and realized she'd eaten every noodle. Now feeling slightly embarrassed for her appetite, she tried to avoid Willow's smile of pure triumph, before finally giving in and acknowledging the red head's superior knowledge of her capacity to eat, guessing Willow must have learned quite a bit about her over the past week and a half.
Wanting to do her share, Tara offered to help with the post-dinner clean-up, but was promptly voted down and sent with Willow and Giles to the front room, while Buffy and Dawn held down kitchen duty. Outside rain continued to pepper the roof, and a dampness she'd not noticed before hung in the air. Noticing her shivering, Giles offered to start a fire, and she soon found herself sitting on the floor in front of a small blaze of crackling tinder and wood.
She held out her hands to warm them, before leaning back against the wingback chair on which Willow was already perched. "Dinner was wonderful."
Giles leaned back in the other wingback. "It was, wasn't it?" He twirled his wine stem and watched the merlot sweep along the inside of the glass. "And for a moderately priced California red, this is very good."
"Are you sure you don't want to try a glass, Tara?" Willow questioned, her eyes focused on the way the blonde's hair sparkled under the firelight.
Tara glanced over her shoulder at the red head and smiled. "No, thank you."
"Are you worried it might have some effect on you?" Giles inquired. "I don't think you need to be concerned. It's doubtful that the side-effects following the rejoining are anything other than magickal in origin." Giles crossed his legs. "Which isn't to say that they are not concerning, only that a glass of red wine will doubtless cause no debilitating effects."
Tara hid her grin as Willow whispered in her ear, "And I bet you thought I used too many words." Looking towards Giles, she explained. "I'm not much of a wine drinker. I wouldn't know a m-merlot from a chardonnay."
Slightly buzzed from the two glasses of wine she'd had with dinner, Willow absent-mindedly ran her fingers through the girl's hair. "That's easy, merlots are red wines and chardonnays are white." Residual happiness from their play day hanging in the back of her mind, Willow added. "We should go wine tasting some afternoon. There's a winery about two hours north of Sunnydale."
One of the logs on the fire tipped forward and Tara used the poker to push it back, making sure not to move out of Willow's reach. "Is the winery called San Miguel?"
Willow tried to recall, but she couldn't be sure. "I don't remember the name. But the main building was once a church. We've driven past it on our way to San Luis Obispo."
"My cadre stayed several nights at the San Miguel winery." Tara contributed. "I don't remember any church buildings, but that doesn't mean anything since most of buildings had been burned. We stayed inside the grounds, but slept outside." She added happily. "It was really pretty, you could see the ocean from the bell tower, and at night the stars seemed so close you would have thought you could have reached up to touch them."
"Do the place names of this reality largely correspond to your own?" Giles asked pulling the girl from her memory, as he wished his memory of "Bizarro-Sunnydale" was clearer.
The girl shrugged her shoulder. "I'm not sure. I guess I would need to look at a map."
"Xander thinks your hometown has a different name in this reality." Willow mused, before startling. "Oh my god, we forgot to call Xander and Anya to let them know you woke up and Giles is here from England." The red head slipped from her chair. "I'm going to call them right now. I don't want anyone feeling all out of the loop-y."
Smiling as the hackler bustled out of the room, Tara returned her attention to Giles, who continued to swirl his wine glass. "Xander and Anya will be pleased to know you've returned."
"Yes and no." Giles responded, his expression shifting from a slight grimace to a gentle smile. "Anya may be upset to learn I'm here."
Unbelievingly, Tara asked why.
Giles made his voice sound conspiratorial. "Even though I've signed an endless number of legal documents making Anya operator of the Magic Box, she continues to worry I will someday stage a coup of some sort to regain control."
Confident for no real reason that there was more to the librarian's remarks than he was letting on, Tara prompted. "But you came back because of something else? And not just because of me."
His expression pleased, Giles asked. "What makes you think that?"
Tara shifted to face the librarian. "I'm not sure. A feeling, I guess." She wrinkled her nose. "Also, you stepped around Dawn's question about how long you would be staying in town."
"A correct feeling, as it turns out." Giles explained, delighted by the girl's ability to observe. Wherever she was from, like her dearly missed counterpart, this new Tara clearly possessed excellent thinking skills. "And, you're right. I did avoid Dawn's question."
"You have good news." Tara concluded from Giles comfortable posture.
Giles nodded. "I think, yes. Good news for me, certainly, and I hope the others will also see it as good news as well." He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, with his elbows on his knees. "But my news can wait. I'm much more interested in learning more about this practice you call conjuring."
Understanding that the former watcher was not ready to share his secrets, Tara followed his lead, happy to discuss magicks with someone who was so obviously well schooled. "Conjures are methods for shaping the elementals towards particular ends."
"By elementals, you mean the natural forces of the earth?" Giles prompted.
Tara nodded slowly. "Yes, the energies that exist around us." She used her finger to trace the Oriental carpets much faded pattern. "From the earth and the sky, from fire and water, and air. The conjures help us to touch to all that's around us."
The ice broken between them, by the time Willow returned from the kitchen, the two were deeply engaged in a discussion of the four forces.
"That's fascinating, so you use sign, symbol and number to channel energies." Giles voiced as he settled back into his chair.
"Sound as well." Tara added. "The chanting helps in maintaining the focus." She leaned forward so that Willow could slip back into the chair behind her. "Conjures require the creation and sustenance of environments and circumstances, otherwise they just break apart or fade back into the ether."
"Concentration must be key then?" A high-pitched squeal sounded from the kitchen, which Giles easily ignored. "This is probably the most disciplined form of magick I've ever heard discussed. I cannot imagine how excited Miss Hartness and the coven will be to learn of your methods."
Glancing over her shoulder, Tara asked Willow, "Miss Hartness helped you last summer, right?" And immediately grew concerned at Willow's expression.
"She and the others saved my life." Willow explained softly. Her voice was calm, but a nervous twitch could be seen in her left eye.
Worried the conversation was, however unintentionally, triggering Willow's lingering pain over her forays into dark magicks, Tara pressed closer to the hacker's jean clad legs, wishing she knew words that could offer comfort, and not guessing how the simple act of drawing closer said all that needed to be said.
Sensing Willow's ill at ease, but unsure what to do, Giles elected to fall into his old role as teacher and explainer, thinking he could at least be properly boring. "The coven is one of the oldest in England, established sometime during the seventeenth century, I believe. They are well respected not only for their abilities with magicks but also their work as magick historians. Their central library far exceeds the Council's." Giles nodded towards both young women, but wanted Willow in particular to hear his confidence in her. "I hope someday you and Willow are able to visit, but I suppose that there are matters here that must be attended to before any thoughts of travel can intrude."
The sound of the front door opening followed by Xander and Anya's bustling entrance interrupted any response by either of the witches. Tara rose from the floor, before extending her hand to Willow and helping the hacker from her chair. Feeling more than a little out of place, she held on to Willow's hand as Giles, Xander and Anya exchanged hugs and greetings. Moments later, Buffy and Dawn came in from the kitchen, both inexplicably damp, and soon the group was resettled on the front room furniture, Xander and Dawn now on the floor, Buffy, Willow and Tara on the sofa, and Giles and Anya in the two wingback chairs.
Idle chatter about Giles flight soon shifted into Scooby war stories. Tara listened quietly, unconsciously paying closer attention when the stories featured Willow. At some point, she realized Giles was watching her, his gaze discrete and benignly curious.
She remembered the expression from the others' faces from before the rejoining conjure. Anya's expression the most frankly curious, Buffy and Xander's a worried curiosity, and Willow's harder to identify. Now, Anya, Xander and Buffy's expressions reflected a kind of acceptance, while Willow's seemed happy but guarded. Something continued to worry the hacker, and she wanted to ask what it was, but her intuition told her to wait for now.
Like Giles', Dawn also appeared to regard her with a measure of curiosity, but Tara could not help but think the teen's curiosity came from another place. Where Giles wanted to know about her past and her use of magicks, Dawn's only concern seemed to be with her health. Indeed, at some point, Willow whispered jokingly in her ear that Dawn was in full mother hen mode, and Tara could only smile in agreement as Dawn repeatedly offered blankets, hot tea, hot chocolate, popcorn and any number of sweet treats.
More bits and pieces of the previous days came back to her as the night wore on, and Tara found herself remembering clearer Dawn's tender caring for her as well as other stories of the teen's high school adventures, these focusing less on monsters and more on boys. Memories of Dawn bringing her hot tea gave way to memories of Willow feeding her and helping her to dress, and she began to wonder how she would ever be able to repay the two for their kindness. But intermixed with what she recognized as waking memories, came memories of a different kind. While Xander related a wild story about fish men and going out for the high school swim team, Tara tried to tease forward memories of what she could only assume were dreams.
Unlike the memories of being cared for, these did not resolve into anything more than fuzzy images and incomplete actions. Growing frustrated, she returned her attentions to the others just as Buffy launched into another Willow tale, this one about an Internet boyfriend who turned out to be a demon of some kind. Tara guessed that overtime the story had grown more humorous to the Scooby cadre and shared in the laughter, but still she could not help but empathize with the lonely teenage Willow, or wish they'd met then and not now.
Soon enough she was asked to contribute some stories of her own. She stammered through two stories of demon fighting with her first cadre before Dawn came to her rescue and launched into the tale of her first day at Sunnydale High School, an entirely different kind of monster tale, this one of the mundane kind. It was going past ten when Giles could no longer hide his jet lag and Buffy declared it was past everyone's bed times. Within minutes, Xander and Anya rose to leave.
After saying her goodbyes to Xander and Anya and her goodnight to Giles, who was claiming the couch for the night, Tara followed Willow upstairs and into Willow's bedroom. Going up the stairs, Tara noticed Willow's back stiffen with tension. Now, the red head seemed to be avoiding her gaze. Feeling awkward and unsure, she moved to the side of the room and watched as the red head seemingly automatically blew out the candles that had been left burning on the night stand, flipped on the floor lamp near the bed and pulled back the bed covers. Not liking the silence between them, not sure if she had the right to press, Tara asked softly. "Can you tell me what's got you so worried?" She watched as Willow prepared to deflect her question, but then changed her mind.
Willow chose among the issues crowding her mind. "I wish we knew why you woke up today."
"You're not convinced that it was the Lethe's bramble?" Tara questioned, stumbling slightly over the term. Over dinner, Buffy, Willow and Dawn had shared the story of the tea and its initial side effects, but try as she could, she still did not remember her first awakening. Plus she could not help but feel there was something else about the substance, something that Buffy and Willow were holding back.
"Actually, there's no other explanation why you woke up today, and not yesterday or the day before. I just don't know how and why it worked, and that bugs me." Willow thumped at her head with her thumb and forefinger and grinned. "You know me, busy, busy, head."
"But that's not all." Tara guessed, hoping that the hacker would open up more.
"There's other stuff." Willow admitted slowly.
"Like Miss Hartness?" Tara questioned, adding before Willow could answer and before she lost her nerve. "And having your lover's near double as your temporary roommate." Instantly afraid she'd overstepped, she dropped her chin, letting her long hair sweep in front of her face.
Willow grinned, surprised and more than a little pleased at the girl's directness. She stepped closer to Tara's side. "I guess running with those cadres of yours taught you how to get to the point, huh." She pushed back her veil of blonde hair, her grin fading somewhat as she added. "Having you as my bunkie is not the problem you think it is. Unless." She trailed off.
"Unless?"
"Unless it's a problem for you, being bunkies I mean." Willow explained, her voice uncertain.
Tara shook her head, unsure if she was blushing because of Willow's concern or because of her close proximity. She breathed in and caught a faint whiff of the red head's perfume and felt her blush deepen. "It's not a problem for me, I just don't want to c-crowd you." She watched a new expression form on Willow's face, one she had not seen before and one that sent her pulse racing, not sure where the conversation was leading, she resisted the urge to step backwards and held her ground.
"Isn't it me who is crowding you?" Willow teased, moving a little closer.
Tara swallowed before responding. "No, because this is your bedroom." Blue eyes caught on green, and she suddenly remembered counting the flecks in Willow's eyes while eating oatmeal cereal. She blinked, trying to refocus her attention. "You know you don't have to s-share your bed. I could sleep on the floor."
Willow laughed. "Yes, you could. You could also sleep in the basement or in the backseat of my car or outside on a park bench, but none of those things are going to happen either." She draped her arms over Tara's shoulders and pulled her into an impromptu hug. "I think you've forgotten that you just woke up from a some strange illness. Sleeping on the floor is not an option."
Standing so close to the red head, all of Tara's nerve endings became alive at once. She deliberately slowed her breath, thinking that she could hear better the movement of Willow's blood inside her arteries and veins. Almost dizzy with sensation, she let her head drop on to Willow's shoulder, just as an explosion of memories of Willow holding her, cuddling her, brushing her hair, singing to her, rubbing her back, caring for her in every way rushed through her mind. Her knees began to buckle, and she felt Willow's arms tighten around her waist, holding her up.
"Baby, are you okay." Willow asked, a shiver traveling down her spine as she felt Tara turn her face into her neck, and the familiar brush of Tara's lips. For a moment she was afraid Tara was going to pass out again, but then the blonde spoke softly.
"Okay, I'm okay. Just a little dizzy." Tara murmured, leaning into Willow's frame, relishing the safety of the red head's embrace. When the whirling in her head passed, she straightened inside the circle of Willow's arms, but didn't move her head. Starting to feel embarrassed, she mumbled. "Sorry, I don't know what happened."
Willow waited until she was sure Tara had regained her balance before loosening her embrace. "You had me worried there for a minute." She brushed a kiss on Tara's cheek, only then noticing the heat spilling off of the blonde's skin. Now frantic that Tara was about to collapse, she could not control the rising pitch of her voice. "Baby, you're running a fever. I think you should lie down."
Her embarrassment forgotten in the wake of Willow's panic, knowing that there was no need to be concerned, Tara looked up and gave the hacker a reassuring smile before dropping her head back on Willow's shoulder. "Really, I think I'm fine. Whatever it was, it's passing."
Still anxious, Willow sputtered. "You're sure it wouldn't be better for you to sit down, or lie down, or maybe I should run downstairs and get the aspirin."
"No, this is really nice." Tara disagreed. Now feeling wonderfully lethargic, she added several moments later. "I'm okay. I just suddenly remembered a whole bunch of things from the past few days."
"Memories of what?" She asked, part of her still wanting still to run downstairs and find the aspirin bottle, but a more powerful part wanting to follow Tara's lead and stay still. She exhaled and watched as strands of soft blonde hair ruffled under her breath.
"Of you taking care of me." Tara's eyes fell closed, and she breathed in Willow's comforting scent. "You have the most gentle hands." Her voice growing fainter, she added. "When you hold me nothing hurts."
Willow's throat closed with tears at the sweet sound of Tara's voice. She'd missed it so much. Memories of her own came back. Memories of comforting Tara during the first days following the conjure, when the girl seemed caught in the grip of some terrible nightmare, and then later memories, when Tara seemed to drift between waking and dreaming. She felt what could have been a kiss against her neck, and she realized that she hoped it was. Happily content to stand in the middle of the bedroom holding Tara in her arms for the rest of the night, it turned out that that would not be necessary.
Feeling like she'd just woken from a dream, Tara raised her head and looked into warm green eyes. "I kind of spaced out there for a while, huh?"
Mesmerized by the movement of Tara's lips, Willow responded slowly. "You went a little dreamy-girl on me. Are you okay?"
"I think so." Tara said, stepping backwards, and letting her arms drop to her side, but not taking her eyes off of Willow's. "I wonder what that was all about?"
"Probably just an aftershock from what happened to you before, which we still don't understand. Tomorrow is going to be a major research day." Beginning to feel awkward under the girl's tender gaze, Willow moved to the dresser and pulled out a fresh nightshirt. She held it out to Tara. "Why don't you grab the bathroom first? I want to check my email before we go to bed."
Starting to share in the red head's awkwardness, Tara nodded and scurried out of the room. In the bathroom, she made a face at her reflection, before washing up and getting into her nightshirt. The hem hung just below her knees, and the flannel felt warm against her skin. She thought she remembered it from before, but she couldn't be sure. She was more sure of a pair of patterned blue flannel pants and a light blue tee shirt, and that Willow did not need her to be such a cling-girl. Tempted to knock her head against the wall, instead she resolved to make herself less dependent, and dismissed as wishful thinking any interpretations of Willow's affections as more than friendly.
When she returned to the bedroom, she found Willow at her desk.
The hacker closed her laptop cover and turned in her chair. "I sent Miss Hartness an email letting her know you woke up, and that Giles had arrived safely."
"You like her a lot." Tara ventured, moving deeper into the room. "Miss Hartness, I mean."
A wide grin stretched across the red head's face. The nightshirt hugged Tara's narrow frame perfectly. "She's pretty amazing. But so was everyone at the coven. The whole place was wonderful: beautiful and green and damp. They make the best scones ever, and their split pea soup is to die for." Willow stood up from her desk and carefully tucked the chair in the leg well. Blushing slightly, she moved past Tara to the dresser and dug out an old pair of thermal pajamas with yellow smiley faces. "They helped me so much. More than I deserve." She added, her grin fading.
"You shouldn't think that way." Tara's response was automatic and out of her mouth before she knew it. She winced, knowing Willow did not need her to weigh in on the past, but hating how Willow seemed to think herself unworthy of all efforts on her behalf.
"What way?" Willow snapped, instantly, wishing she could take back her words, but already seeing the hurt on Tara's face. She tried to mitigate her tone with a smile, but she knew it wasn't enough.
Unable to meet Willow's eyes, but unwilling to let Willow's anger go unchallenged, Tara mumbled at the floor. "That you don't deserve people's h-help."
Willow took a deep breath and resisted the urge to go to the girl and take her in her arms and try to soothe away her concerns. She deserved better. "Tara, after the things I've done..."
"Willow, you can't fix the past." Tara interrupted; she forced herself to look Willow in the eye. "You can only try to do better in the future."
Not really hearing Tara's advice, Willow disagreed. "I understand what you're trying to say, but I took lives. It's just not that..." She trailed off.
"Simple?" Tara supplied. "It is for me." Not caring if she was overstepping, not even knowing where her words were coming from, but certain she was right, she pushed on. "People make mistakes, terrible mistakes. You acted out in grief and rage and anger. You embraced d-darkness; you hurt and k-killed, but I've never seen that part of you, and I don't think I ever will because it's gone." She could hear her voice rising in pitch, and feel the burning in her eyes that always signaled she was about to cry. She shook her head, trying to regain her self-control. It was important for Willow to believe she was right. "That blackness, that part of you that embraced darkness, it's gone. It's left you. You're different now."
Willow tried to take in what Tara was saying. Tara sounded so sure, so certain. She sounded the way she did when she explained conjures and talked about magicks. And still, Willow could not bring herself to believe the girl. "How can you know this?"
Tara ran her fingers though her hair, pushing it back behind her ears. Her mind scrambling for some explanation for what she had just said. "I don't know how, I just do. Things happened to you in England. Things you can't talk about." Tara moved to sit on the bed. "Something inside of you changed, and the magick is different now. But you don't believe it." She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Will, you need to believe it."
Willow jerked at the girl's use of her nickname. She'd never used it before. Not knowing what to do or say, she changed the subject. "You're cold. You should get under the covers." She moved to the bed, and helped the girl pull back the bedclothes and then settle underneath them. "I should get ready for bed."
Tara reached for Willow's hand and held it to her cheek for a moment. "Come to bed soon, okay." The courage that had filled her moments ago had faded away, and the girl looked small again, defenseless and alone. She looked as she did that first night, when she'd fallen on the Magic Box floor.
Willow nodded. She picked up her pajamas from the corner chair before heading for the bathroom. Not wanting to leave Tara for long, she hurried into her pajamas and quickly brushed and flossed her teeth. When she came back to the bedroom, the room was dark. Still, she could feel Tara's eyes on her as she climbed into the bed. The girl was lying on her side, curled up with her knees against her chest. Reaching out as she had the night before, she crooned. "Baby, you're shivering. Come to me, okay."
Unable to resist Willow's call, Tara slowly unfurled her arms and legs, and then inched her way closer to Willow, not stopping until her head rested against Willow's shoulder and her fingers were wrapped tightly into the fabric of Willow's pajama top. As her body folded into Willow's, the tension in her limbs drained away and her breath evened out. The green came back to her, and it made the demons that wanted to hurt her go away. Just before she fell entirely asleep, she murmured, "You're different now. I've always been yours, but now you're finally mine."
Hours later Willow continued to listen to the hallway clock tick outside the bedroom. Seconds had turned into minutes, minutes into hours, and the whole time Tara's words had echoed inside her head. It was going past two when Willow brought her lips to Tara's and kissed them, closing over them and holding them, trying to send into Tara's dreams all of the love that she could not say, could barely admit to herself. And then she too fell asleep.