FIC: The Legends of the Kiss

[mariacomet]

Title: Legends of the Kiss part 1
Feedback: - I will beg if I have to. Really.
Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com
Distribution: Just let me know.
Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.

Rating: PGfor now. There will be at least an 'R' part toward the end, which I have to tell you I am already blushing about writing.

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.

Other general disclaimers: I'm not 100% sure that the exact longest night/shortest day of the year this year is the 22nd. None of the sites I went to did more than guess. I ALSO had to change the phase of the moon that actually occurred on my version of Yule. The next full moon on Yule will be approx in the year 2018. (It also may be in 2010, the estimates are always +/- a day. No, I can't believe that I looked that up either)

Dedication: This is meant to be a Happy Holidays kind of wish. To Kieli - Thanks for listening, commenting and being such a great sounding board. Major hugs. (You are STILL a meanie but I tossed Tara in a leather jacket for you anyway) To RJ - Thank you for encouraging me to crack open long closed doors. I'm so glad I got a chance to meet you. You make me smile. To Tommo - I couldn't have gotten this far with my Buffy Fan Fiction without your help, your honesty and your support. Thank you. May your wishes come true. To Rane -Your stories and enthusiasm are wonderful in their own right. I am so terribly honored that you have allowed me to read your works and asked for my feedback. You're great.

Legends of the Kiss

(Part 1)

By Mariacomet


Legends are weaved from the dust of time; some are fact, some are fantasy. Most are a combination, two paintings hanging so closely together that the differences are blurred and they seem identical. Often, these tales are later called a complete fabrication. The consuming criticism is that they parables which we are holding far closer to ourselves than we should. Still, a few brave ones keep stories in their hearts and use them as beacons. There are those, after all, who still able to believe in magic - magic in the world around them, and the stronger but harder to find magic created by the heart. Some legends are fancy waiting for those with enough courage to make them truth. Where these tales begin is of no consequence. The point is that they begin and that the right someone decides to listen.

Dawn was trying to do the hostess thing and set a cup of tea before Spike, before pouring one for herself. Her chaperone took a flask from his leather jacket and poured a generous amount into his cup. Dawn folded her arms over her chest in a passable imitation of Buffy's defiant look.

He lifted one blonde eyebrow in answer. "What?"

"You could have just said no to the tea."

"I like it this way, midget." He countered. Spike pulled out her chair for her as she moved to sit down. "Sides' I'm not about to tell you not to play Betty Crocker if you want to. Might miss some good eats if I do that."

"Do you even eat anything besides...um...the red stuff?"

The vampire snorted and held out his hand. "Pay up."

The teen blinked. "The bet was I could get one day without mentioning, you know. I didn't say it. I was just asking about eating habits." Spike left his hand where it was. "Do I need to remind you how immoral Buffy would think gambling with her younger sister is?"

Her companion rolled his eyes and pointed at her. "You've got a fixation and it's going to get you in trouble. I'm just trying to deter it. Now give me the fiver you owe me."

"I didn't say the word." The young woman insisted stubbornly. Arguing over nothing was something they did a lot of. It usually never went anywhere which suited both of them just fine. It was a way to cover up that they enjoyed one another's company.

His eyes danced with amusement. "What word?"

"Vamp...Hey!"

Spike smirked in a superior way. "Pay up, nibblet."

"Rock, paper, scissors - and double or nothing?" She suggested. With a sigh, the vampire agreed and both waved their fists three times. She was paper. He was rock. The immortal man cursed under his breath, while she gave a self satisfied smile.

"Con artist...miniature bleeding con-artist." Spike muttered.

Dawn gave him an impish grin. "I'd be willing to call it even if you to let the babysitter thing rest for tonight." He gave her that long look that basically meant that he would do so when hell froze over. The truth was Spike had fought for this evening's shift, not that he would ever admit to it. With Buffy back, the Scoobies had been letting him into their loop less and less and he didn't like it. Yes, Buffy granted him the dubious honor of patrolling with her, but the others were quickly retreating back to an indifferent or defensive posture around him. Which was fine, he supposed. Save for Dawn. The little Buffy-bit was smart and she was strong inside. Someone should look after that. Not that Spike thought of himself as the brother or father figure type. He was more the 'ride in on the motorcycle and beat the hell out of anyone that touched her' type. Or the help her sneak out and not get caught, type. "I don't get them. I mean, some Scooby meetings I can go to, but even with Glory...sometimes I'm suddenly too young. Buffy doesn't make any sense."

Spike laughed. "Yeah, tell me about it." The vampire shifted in his leather jacket and shrugged. "Wouldn't worry about missing too much. I think this was a cupid mission with the mega witches. Buffy was inviting Tara to the Bronze and Xander and Anya were inviting Willow. They were going to all 'bump into' one another or some such rot."

The teenager shook her head. "Pathetic."

"Yeah - without the Watcher about - suddenly it's all 'Saved by the Bell' around here." They both sipped their tea thoughtfully for a moment.

The young woman next to him gave a ginger smile. "Things are still a little tense when Tara's around. Not that it was better when she wasn't around. But it's been months and she and Willow...I mean you can tell they really still...I mean, I think they do. Tara comes over for dinner every week, but the rest of the time neither of them will...Unless Buffy or someone tricks them like tonight. Which is kind of sad. I love my sister but I don't think anyone should leave the future of their romance in her hands." Spike's lips twisted into a wry frown. "Not that I'm talking about you or..."

"You know, there's an old custom of finishing one thought before starting in on another one. You really ought to look into it."

Dawn sighed. The lack of Tara's constant presence made her feel uneasy. Dawn knew that Tara would be there if she needed her. It was justthere was a gap without Tara around. Things were still strained between the teen and Buffy. Willow was much quieter than she once had been. Definite Tara sized empty space in the Summer's household itself. "Well Willow and Tara are being so cautious around one another. And Buffy and the others are trying to help, but Willow especially is so paranoid about screwing up again that it doesn't do any good."

"Well she's got to get over that." Spike said expertly. "The trick when you make a mistake is to admit it, and if that doesn't work then you kidnap her and tie her up until she..." His blue eyes flashed with the remembrance of who he was talking to. Spike had no problem finishing that line of thought for Dawn, but he doubted the Slayer would approve. "Or you could get her flowers." He finished lamely. So much so that he rolled his eyes at himself.

Dawn stirred her tea, looking into it as if it might hold answers. She glanced at the vampire who was patting down his jacket, looking for a cigarette. Spike wasn't allowed to smoke in the house or around Dawn, but that didn't stop him from chewing on one that was unlit sometimes. An idea came to her then. But she'd need help, and looking at her couple hundred year old vampire babysitter, she suddenly realized she'd found the perfect co-conspirator. Of course getting Spike to agree to do something because it was a 'good' was practically impossible. But she was getting to know his buttons. "Spike, tell you what, rock paper, scissors - if you win - I owe you 20. If *I* win, you owe me a favor." The vampire hadn't lived as long as he had by being stupid and giving a teenager Carte' Blanche on favors certainly didn't qualify as smart. Dawn read the look. "I promise I won't be in any danger. And, it will annoy Buffy."

"All right. I'm in." He said almost immediately.

A few nights later Dawn snuck around the back of her house, calling the Vampire's name. He appeared behind her without a sound and took some glee in being able to make her jump. She punched his arm and he punched her arm backlightly.

"One favor, at your service." Spike said and handed her a rather disheveled looking book. Dawn looking through it eagerly but nothing was legible. Burns and watermarks made reading impossible. Spike leaned over and flicked her hand away then turned to the last page. "There."

It took her a moment to read it, but she frowned. "You think they'll buy this?"

"Nibblet, you know the saying that love is blind?" He asked. She nodded. "Well it's also stupid. Red's just looking for an excuse. This will give her one."

Title: Legends of the Kiss part 1B
Feedback: - I will beg if I have to. Really.
Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com
Distribution: Just let me know.

Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.

Rating: PGfor now. There will be at least an 'R' part toward the end, which I have to tell you I am already blushing about writing.

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.

Legends of the Kiss

(Part 1B)

By Mariacomet

The Magic Box had been booming all through the holiday season. Especially since Anya had come up with the 'buy an item worth ten dollars or more, get a sprig of mistletoe free' promotion. The Scoobies (at the prompting of Willow and Tara) had decorated the place. Strands of white, blue, red and green Christmas lights blinked everywhere. Paper snow flakes had been pasted to the front glass window. Bit of holly and pine, as well as evergreen incense were placed strategically so that the whole place smelled pleasantly woodsy. Willow was in the back, baking cookies like a mad woman. She was still in penance mode, even though Dawn's accident had been months ago, so the scent of home-made goodness was also now wafting through the shop.

Willow had just finished a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies when Xander appeared in the doorway carrying in the afternoon mail. He strode to where Anya was manning the counter with a smile. "How's Santa's favorite little helper?" They shared a kiss. He tilted his Santa cap to one side, with a particular rakish gleam in his eyes. "And have you been a good little girl this year?" Willow moved past them and pushed a cookie in his mouth, effectively ending the attempt at another kiss. "You're a mean one Miss Grinch." Xander noted, eyeing his best friend, but taking a bite of the cookie. Anya spotted the package that had come in with the mail and began using scissors to open it.

The door to the shop jingled and the Tara entered, causing the red haired witch to halt in her tracks and give a beaming smile. "Hey."

Tara's own smile was broad in answer. "Hey."

They stared at one another, taking in the sight of what each held to be the most beautiful sight they knew on this earth. Willow wore a long green sweater that just brought out the color of her eyes and accented her fiery hair. Her cheeks were just slightly rosy. Tara moved toward her. She just had to be closer to her. It was her automatic reaction whenever they were in a room together; the magnet of Willow, pulling her near. Her hands itched to touch the other woman, but she didn't. She watched, taking in the highlights of the streaming flame that her fingers used to run through at will. Her eyes caressed Willow's face hungrily. They were never sure exactly what to do with one another when they were standing close. An invisible wall kept them apart. So small and fragile, so easy to break through, yet neither of them could. They both shifted awkwardly in the momentary silence.

"Umyou want a cookie? I just made them. Oatmeal. I know you like chocolate chip. I have some of those baking. Though, you know, you don't have to have any. You're not in anyway cookie obligated." Why, Willow asked herself, do I do this? Shut up, shut up, shut up, she ordered herself sternly. Every time they were close to one another Willow felt butterflies in her stomach and got nervous. Unsure how to act or more honestly how Tara wanted her to act. "Oh hey this is new. Is that leather?" Willow reached out and stroked the leather collar of Tara's jacket. It was real leather and it was the most inane, obvious, excuse to touch Tara that she could of thought of. It was sad, really. And Willow couldn't help herself.

Tara tilted her head and watched Willow's pale fingertips run over the fabric. "My F-father and brother sent it. Along with a note that said they'd always love me. I was going to send it back but..." An impish look crossed her features. "It's really kind of a nice jacket."

Seeing the vixen side of Tara, which Willow hadn't discovered till some time after they had started dating, was rare these days. Willow's heart felt suddenly full and feather-light all at the same time. Okay, down heart...you are going way overboard. She gathered herself together and gave mock look of disapproval. "You sure Santa's gonna like that? Very naughty."

"Oh yeah, I'm a rebel." The blonde joked dryly.

Willow laughed. These moments of teasing were also rare. The strain between them lifted for the time being. "Gotta wonder what's next for you Miss Maclay. Jaywalking? Tearing the tags off mattresses? Talking during a movie?"

Tara hid a grin behind one hand, then forced a serious expression. "I was thinking of tossing out my yellow highlighter."

"Now there's no need for blasphemy." The other witch shot back. Their eyes twinkled for one another. Both of their hearts leapt happily, and neither had the strength to look away. Again, Willow ran her hand over the leather, just skimming Tara's arm. "I would have kept it too, the jacket, I mean. You look really..." Don't go there, Rosenberg. The meeting of gazes made Willow's train of thought leave the station headed for parts unknown. She struggled to concentrate. "Umsocookie?"

"Did someone order this?" Anya called out loudly, breaking the spell.

Xander took the tattered book from her and hummed. "Legends of the Kiss." He said, reading the title aloud. "My spidey sense is telling me this is a chick book."

"Men often refer to women as small flluffy animals. It's their way of reducing a woman's place while making their own seem superior." Anya said conversationally and took the book from him.

"She's been watching 'Lifetime' network a lot lately." Xander explained and nodded to the small t.v. sitting proudly near one of the 'study' couches. After Giles had left, Anya had added two t.v's to the shop, as well as a computer. She had also marked up prices just slightly.

Anya was frowning at the book. "I know I didn't order this." She complained. "We'll never be able to sell it in this condition."

"There's no return address on the book. I don't see a receipt or a bill with it." The young man pointed out.

"So it could be a mistake." She sounded more cheerful now. "Does that mean we can keep it? I was thinking of making a dollar bin. So it could be worth something after all. And I mean there's that the whole finders/keeps law." The presence of the unknown stoked Willow's naturally curious nature and she moved toward the counter. Tara followed.

"Not law." Anya's fianc corrected. "I said it was a principal. One that relates to beer and loose change."

The shopkeeper was flipping through the book. "Nothing that I can readexceptoh here.To heal the heart of two lovers'. Hmm, maybe I'll make it a five dollar bin.'"

They all gathered a little closer; Tara, Willow and Xander actually moving around the counter and crowding Anya as she read on.

The smell of leather and rose petals wafted from Tara. Willow had to struggle to against the temptation to close her eyes and breathe in - again and again - trying to keep the scent surrounding her, touching her mind like a whisper. The warmth of her love pressed lightly into her back.

They barely touched anymore. Twice since the night Tara had left, kisses had been exchanged, but like snowflakes they touched the earth lightly, briefly, then faded as if they had never been. Kisses from her love had once marked the passage of days more powerfully than time. Morning was when the first kiss came. Afternoon was the stolen moments between classes. Evening, well that was when they traded teasing touches while making dinner. Finally, the end of the day, they would come to bed as one and give in to the sultry night. This had been her day, this had been her life. The last time she had touched her former lover's lips with her own; it had been almost a platonic gesture. It was a reaffirmation of faith between them. The feel of Tara's mouth had been soft as silk and oh-so- yielding, parted slightly in unconscious welcome. The sweetness of it made Willow's chest feel like a vice, trapping her breath there. It was heaven, but though peace had come to Willow, so had the restless ache for more. It was hell. Heaven and hell. It made sense that the thought of it now was still morphing into both.

"You, who own this book, hold in your hand a key to a door of possibility." Anya began. "But this is not an offering that all may take."

"For the one that has touched evil, letting it coil warmly within them but has retreated from darkness back to the arms of cold truth."

Willow's computer like mind took in the words and began analyzing. One that had fallen but had been redeemed, she thought.

"For the one that has given up part of themselves, sacrificing priceless things for the sake of love."

Sacrifice, Willow let the word roll in her mind. Sometimes price implied an object but objects couldn't be part of someone. You could give your heart, but you didn't really 'give it up' did you? The term sacrifice would have been wrong in that instance, anyway. You could give your soul, but usually a bad connotation there, at least in most 'legend' terms that Willow knew of.

"For the betrayer of a gentle soul, that one who is undeserving of a new day but has enough understanding to grieve for the lack of it.

The sinner that regrets the sin, considered the redhead. She frowned. She wished she had a notebook with her. It would be good to write some of these things down.

Tara glanced at Willow, hiding a smile as she saw her mind begin to try and puzzle the words out. My Explorer, Tara thought. Her own mind was poised for a similar attempt at riddle solving, but she was more patient than Willow and was waiting to hear the whole thing before beginning.

The hacker was the one that saw a wrong, formulated a plan and then charged ahead. Tara had often thought of herself as the calm after the storm. Where her lover doubted, she was confident. When Willow lacked patience, hers was infinite. Sometimes Tara didn't know quite what to say, how to explain herself, but Willow could always fill the gaps. When fear and worry gripped every part of Tara, she had only to look to her partner for faith and courage.

"For the brave who can once again lay down their heart even after this offering has been dismissed, or abandoned."

The rejected lover, Willow thought and chewed her lower lip. Okay, this thing was hitting a little too close to home.

"If the moon is full faced on the night of birth, the longest night of the year."

"Yule." The two witches immediately said as one. Soft smiles touched their lips, fond amusement that they had both known the answer instantly and like the gung-ho students they were, both had tried to be the first to give the correct answer. Willow felt Tara's hand on her shoulder, acknowledging the moment. The light warmth of the other woman's hand made Willow's entire body cry out in happy recognition. But the touch was brief.

"I'm sorry, neither of you phrased your answer in the form of a question." Xander said with raised eyebrows. "I'm a little down with the witchy handbook, so I'm guessing you aren't talking about Y.O.U.L.L."

"No, Y.U.L.E is the longest night of the year." His smaller best friend corrected gently. "See, the sun rises directly south of East and then goes down directly south of West. Really, it's the shortest day and the longest night of the year." Willow explained. T.M.I, she told herself sternly. Though Giles, she imagined, would have been proud that she'd attempted to teach the Scoobies something. "It's the night of the birth of - well it depends on what you believe. The Winter Solstice is celebrated from the 21st to the 23rd. Officially though, by this year's alignments the longest night would be...um... She paused uncertainly and turned to the blonde over her shoulder.

"The 22nd." Tara filled in. "It's tomorrow night."

"Right." The red head agreed softly. Her voice became softer as she realized how close Tara was. It wasn't as if she had forgotten, it was that the realization kept coming at her - nonstop.

Anya wanted to get on with the reading but Xander and she had been working on patience so she waited before going on. "Everyone ready?" They were. "If you are the searcher, if you are the dreamer, if you have longed words of comfort."

If Willow had tilted her head back just a little, her former lover's breath would have run over the fine hairs on the back of her neck. It was missing the small things that caused Willow's heart to rebel the most. The feel and scent of Tara's hair against her neck as she awoke. The stolen ability to be able to reach out and hold the other woman's hand at will. Cuddling close to her love, staying awake till the middle of the night talking. Tara gently bidding her to wake so they could snuggle or more urgently whispering passion to Willow with knowing fingertips and insistent words. Gentle unexpected, unasked for massages after the red head been sitting, studying too long and too hard. Doing the same for Tara, trying to take care of her. The way her love would purr contently, or look at her with those glowing grateful eyes. Willow knew that once she had been able to make the holder of her heart feel special - loved. Here, now, her ex-lover being so near and yet so far; it was like knowing there was music playing close by, but being unable to hear it.

"Oh warrior, then go to your true love. Have her lie beneath the tree of the King, he who vanquished the Holly King. Offer her a kiss and things unspoken will be spoken, all things unknown in you, she will know."

I have had only one true love, Willow told herself. My Girl. My everything. My always. I can't sleep unless I pretend she's near me, wrapping her arms around me. She's the first thing and the last thing I think of every day. Sometimes I imagine her kissing me, her soft mouth claiming mine, claiming me in wondrous possession. I remember my heart clenching, straining with happiness and desire as Tara touched me. It could not keep still, it raced, it burned - and my body like clay followed the will of her voice, her touch. Nights where passion's drum was unceasing keeping us in tempo with one another. Everything was Tara and Ijust us. We were the universe. My hands start to move, to echo where hers have gone a thousand times, but the realist in me knows that it's a dream. I can't do more than tease. I don't want to waken from passion alone. It would be pleasure for a moment and then my heart would break all over again.

I'm not a warrior. I don't know how to fight for you Tara. Other than to continue on, to try and honor what little you have asked of me. I am imperfect but I try and stay away from the magic. I'm done with lying to you, but I haven't told you all my secrets and you don't know all my fears. I hold back so much, it rushes through me pounding to get free, but I'm too afraid to speak. Push too hard and I lose you, push too little and I lose you - this is my dance.

"Say these words - 'I offer, I wait. For your happiness and not my own, I bless thee. For your joy and not my own, I wish for thee. Turn from her then, and seek a path near running water - like that which moves through you and that which has moved the earth since time began."

"If she does not find you and return your kiss when the moon is at its highest point, then her heart will pass to another. A new door will be opened to her by the sunrise. She will be given a way of happiness and you will drown in tears."

Willow swallowed hard. Well that was the test, wasn't it? It was one thing to give but it was another to be willing to risk condemning everything you are to misery so that the one you love might be happy.

"Butif she seeks you, if she returns your kiss under the pale moon, then two hearts beating torn will be healed and the possibility of eternal love will follow you."

Drowning in tears or eternal love, Willow thought, why was there never a third option to any of these legends?

The shopkeeper closed the book. "Well, I've never heard of this. It sounds too good to be true."

"Yes," The Blonde Wiccan said quietly, "It does." It made the hacker sad to hear Tara voice those thoughts. The other woman's eyes were hooded. Her soft face, so smooth even in anger or sadness now had the slightest crease just on her brow. Willow wanted to kiss it away.

"B-but that doesn't mean it's not true." Willow said suddenly. DoubtingTara seemed to her a bad thing. "I mean truth can be good. It's all a matter of keeping the proper perspective. You can't just go tossing out everything that doesn't sound a certain way - I mean listen to how ice cream sounds. What if people said - 'ice that's cream that's crazy talk'! But you knowpeople didn't."

Willow and Tara's eyes met yet again in an unspoken conversation between doubt and hope - fear and love. So many small words, small moments between them now seemed liked life and death. The hacker was terrified to mis-step.

"Will just entered the Ben and Jerry's zone." Xander noted.

One corner of Tara's mouth lifted, the shine in her eyes turning warm as she looked at her ex-girlfriend. Something invaded the momentary joy; Willow saw the shadow of it and then watched the light in Tara's gaze crumble.

The time for making a decision had come and gone. Tara knew that. Maybe knew was too strong a word. After all, she had never felt about anyone the way she did about Willow. She simply suspected that it was past time. Her heart and mind were pulling at her, demanding a resolution. It had seemed wise for the first month at least, to let the ball be in Willow's court. Willow had to deal with the magic abuse first, then they could see if a future was possible. It was the right thing to do, but that was then. It was nearing the three month mark now. She had promised Willow long ago that they would always be friends. She had kept her word. The others feelings though, hung between them in the air like specters. The love that had swelled between them happily now was a painful burden. Or at least that was true for Tara.

Willow hadn't mentioned love for some time now. Nor had she taken her hand. If Tara initiated a touch, her former lover seemed skittish. Not that the blonde would know what she would do if Willow did respond. The tendrils of mistrust and betrayal were still twined thickly in her mind, like thorns - always ready to remind her of their presence.

She had given Willow everything and it hadn't been enough. Willow had looked down on her, and wanted her to bend into another shape, just as Tara's father once had. The implication was that she wasn't worthwhile as she was and she couldn't afford to think that way. It had almost destroyed her to half believe what her father had told her. She had come to Sunnydale to escape his quiet lethal words, but even far from home, they had followed her. Willow had been by her side when Tara had slayed that demon. It was as it should be, a partner to hold her hand and look into the fire with her, not a rescuer - a partner.

Life was risk, she knew that. Tara had forgiven Willow, but forgetting what had happened, that was something different. Tara's mind, her logic, her intelligence - it was a painstakingly crafted tower of pearls lined with hand-painted stained glassed windows. For a long time, it was the only worth she believed herself to have.

Glory had forced her way into the tower, smashing the windows, then starting to crush each individual pearl. Just for the pleasure of it. Willow has stolen part of the towerbecause Tara's love for her had become inconvenient.

Willow admitted that she had no control over the magic. So even if Tara completely trusted her ex, it wasn't enough. She had to live with the fact that there was a demon outside the door; Willow's dark uncontrollable demon. A monster that so far seemed to have very few limitations. Could she live with the idea that she might one day have to see Willow hurt or worse, all because the demon got free? Or maybe it would be another spell against her - worse than a forget spell. Was Willow capable of it?

Weren't all people capable of anything?

All of this was weighed against three words: I love her.

"I was just dropping by. II have a class." Tara said quietly. When it came down to fight of flight, Tara often chose the latter. She hated it, but she needed time to think, to rethink. Even if it didn't do any good, even if the questions would all be the same." The redhead's face fell and Tara couldn't bear it, but I'll see you at dinner. The usual time Sunday right?"

"Right." Sunday was 2 days away. It was the day before Christmas Eve. Say something else, Willow ordered herself, offer her to walk her to classdo something.

Willow watched her go. She wanted to go after her, pull Tara close and confess everything in her heart. Another more drastic urge rose, to capture the lady like a pirate in days of old. Seize the blonde, push her to a wall, and cage her there with her own body. Rain caresses over her lover's skin till everything was made complete between them - till there was nothing but the love.

The sound of someone coming up the stairs from the basement jerked her from her daydream. She sighed, seeing the blonde vampire wasn't really something she felt up to right now.

"You're out of burba weed. The vampire said in lieu of greeting.

"Gee, I wonder why that could be." Xander sighed.

"You lot haven't paid me for helping you in months. I consider it compensation for services rendered." He gave them a look that would have been all innocence, if it had been anyone but Spike giving it.

"Given the whole vampire thing, Spike, wouldn't it be a wacky notion if you SLEPT during the day?" The other male sighed, pointing to the daylight streaming inside the shop's small windows.

Most of the Scoobies had developed a certain amount of tolerance for Spike, He could be useful when he wanted to be, but Xander had firmly stated that Tarantulas were of some use too, but he didn't see himself coddling one of them anytime soon.

"Spike, have you ever heard of a book called 'Legends of the Kiss?' " Willow asked suddenly interrupting the men.

With that, Spike turned away from Xander giving Willow his complete attention. "I've heard of it. Lots of myths on how lost love can be found handed down the generations. Was gonna use it to help me and Dru, till I realized that there were so many rules attached to every bit of hocus pocus in there. I mean - you give something a name like Legends of the Kiss and you figure the job is gonna be easy, right?"

The hacker's brow furrowed. Her mind was spinning quickly; her attention on those around her was limited. "Do they work? The legends, I mean?"

Spike tilted his head to one side, smoothing down the back of his blonde hair with one hand. "I heard from a Chaos demon that one of the stories in there made some wanker's fianc run off with another guy. The broken hearted idiot offed himself. I'd have gone after the girlie and her new itch scratcher."

"Making people kill themselves is probably too risky for putting it in the five-dollar bin." Anya muttered to herself, her expression one of someone deep in thought. Which was true. Often she did over think things; unfortunately the items on her mind never seemed to be what most people considered meaningful.

"What? You have it?" Spike asked with sudden interest. "I'll take it off your hands."

"You can't." Willow's words were sudden and loud. Everyone looked at her. "I mean...I was going to buy it. Anya, I'll give you ten for it."

"I'll give her fifteen." The vampire countered.

"Seventeen." The red head said firmly.

"Twenty!" Spike countered.

"Babe, make him show you the money." Xander counseled. He wasn't sure that it was best for Willow to win this bidding war, but anyone was better than Spike. He'd deal with the Willow issue, after.

Spike shot him a dirty look. "I'm good for it."

There was a sound of the cash register ringing a purchase and the ex-demon handed the book to Willow. "Oh! And here's your free mistletoe." Anya handed her both items with a perfect thank you for coming, please come again smile - one that had been honed by hours of work.

*********************************************

A couple hours later, Spike leaned against Buffy's back door smoking a cigarette and wondering how he'd let Dawn talk him into helping her. The door opened and the object of his wondering appeared.

"Well?" She asked with no preamble.

The vampire tossed his cigarette to the ground, grinding his boot heel over it. "Will has the book. You and me are even." She looked so utterly cheered by this news that Spike softened. "Told you it would work."

"It hasn't workedyet." The teenager noted.

"I've been around Red for years. Give her doom and destruction, she'll *find* a silver lining. She just needs a little confidence boost. Besides, the demon I got to do the job is a real pro. Trust me, that curious as a cat side to her is gonna be all twitchy. Gave her a nip of mystery and a hint of eternal love." He sounded rather pleased with himself. "Making the Scoobies dance is not a brain buster, luv. They're all obvious."

"Even me?"

He shook his head, trying tried to remember if he'd ever lied to her. Spike didn't think he had. He intended to keep it that way. "Well, you take after me." The vampire answered with a hint of pride. "Like, when you were wondering what you were and Glory got you? You just made the most of it and started squeezing her for information. If you weren't a young lady, I'd say that you have certain brass ones that young ladies don't have." Spike grinned at her, willing her to share his mirth. Dawn gave him a long look then shoved his shoulder lightly. He sighed at himself. That's what he got for trying to be nice. All Summer's women were the same. "Now, I have lots of big bad evil to do"

"Wait. Tomorrow is Yule. I need you to meet me back here." Dawn made it sound as if it were the most reasonable request in the world. "We have to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"Look, I got the book; I made sure the bird took the crumb. I did my part."

Just like that, Dawn changed tactics on him. "Spike, I need your help."

Phrased like that, it stopped him for a moment. "Not the puppy dog eyes." The 'eyes' in question were immediately applied to him. He growled at her. "Bloodystupidyou little" He was pacing back and forth, trying to make all the cursing he wanted to say into something much milder, meant for a child's ears. "I'm Big Bad, do you hear me? I'm not Cupid. I'm not your sidekick and I'm not one of Buffy's Nancy boyfriends. I'm vile and evil and"

"I need Tara here now, Spike." The words were honest. " Willow needs her. So does Buffy. She makes it all balanced."

With a frustrated sigh, he scuffed his boot into the ground. "Stuff it, when do you want me to be here?"

I WOULD have posted one big part before, but I am still coming to terms with the HTML coding on the board...



Title: Legends of the Kiss part 2

Feedback: - I will beg if I have to. Really.
Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com
Distribution: Just let me know.

Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.

Rating: PGfor now. There will be at least an 'R' part toward the end, which I have to tell you I am already blushing about writing.

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.

Legends of the Kiss
(Part 2)
By Mariacomet

You, who own this book, hold in your hand a key to a door of possibility. But this is not an offering that all may take.

For the one that has touched evil, letting it coil warmly within them but has retreated from darkness back to the arms of cold truth. For the one that has given up part of themselves, sacrificing priceless things for the sake of love. For the betrayer of a gentle soul, that one who is undeserving of a new day but has enough understanding to grieve for the lack of it. For the brave who can once again lay down their heart even after this offering has been dismissed, or abandoned.

If the moon is full faced on the night of birth, the longest night of the year
If you are the searcher, if you are the dreamer, if you have longed words of comfort.

Oh warrior, then go to your true love. Have her lie beneath the tree of the King, he who vanquished the Holly King. Offer her a kiss and things unspoken will be spoken, all things unknown in you, she will know. Say these words - "I offer, I wait. For your happiness and not my own, I bless thee. For your joy and not my own, I wish for thee."

Turn from her then, and seek a path near running water - like that which moves through you and that which has moved the earth since time began.

If she does not find you and return your kiss when the moon is at its highest point, then her heart will pass to another. A new door will be opened to her by the sunrise. She will be given a way of happiness and you will drown in tears.

Butif she seeks you, if she returns your kiss under the pale moon, then two hearts beating torn will be healed and the possibility of eternal love will follow you.

Willow Rosenberg's pen was motionless for a moment, poised over her notebook. She read the legend again and frowned as she had several times at the last line. The possibility of eternal love was the reward for risking everything. Didn't anything come with guarantees anymore? She tapped her pen on the paper and began making a list of qualifiers.

1. A sinner who has repented.
2. Someone that has 'given part of themselves'
3. The Betrayer who is ashamed. Also: Wants to make amends.
4. Someone brave enough to risk everything.

Factors: (see also above)
1. The moon - full faced (Check to see if here is a full moon on Yule this year)
2. A warrior? Or maybe this is figurative? I.E. - a warrior's heart?
3. The one who beat the Holly King = Oak King. The tree of the king is an Oak Tree. Have her lie beneath an oak tree?
4. The words.
5. A path by water.
6. The kiss must be returned by when the moon is at its highest point. Midnight.
7. If the kiss isn't returned by midnight, then the lover will meet a new lover by sunrise????

Willow's mouth twisted and she underlined that last part. She didn't hear Xander approach but she did feel him staring at her. His dark eyes were caught in a place between bemusement and concern.

"Will," He said finally. "I think I know what you're thinking and I don't think I like what I think you're thinking."

She set down the pen with a guilty expression. "I couldn't not think about it. I'd consider eating fruitcake for two months solid if I thought it would give me another chance with Tara."

Her oldest friend set his arm around her shoulders; he gave half a smile trying to cheer her up. "Hey, you must not mock the Fruitcake. There are reasons some things are feared."

She squeezed his hand, grateful for his reassurance, but the frown didn't leave her. "I just keep thinking - what if this is not the time to wait and gives things time. What if that time is gone and now what I'm supposed to do is do something. If I don't do it and wait for time to do it, isn't that an eternal cop out?"

Xander sometimes didn't entirely follow her. It had always been like that ever since there were kids. She was a much smarter egg then he was, but he understood the sentiment. Anya and he had been trying to push thing along between Willow and Tara. The young man was surprised by the fact that Willow's relationship with Tara never made him feel jealous. Of course that could be because the idea of the two witches together occasionally made him break out in cold sweats. Xander couldn't help it if his mind had occasional flashes; he was a man, after all.

Seeing Willow sad was unacceptable though. Willow was the best part of him, maybe the best part of all of the Scoobies, personified. Sure the Willster had little lapses....or in the case of the magic...a really big lapse, but she was still Willow. The idea of losing her tilted the world on its axis. She was his mediator, his counselor - his constant. Her involvement with the magic had scared the hell out of him. After Dawn's accident, he had yelled at her - actually yelled. She hadn't said a word, but tears had touched her face. Xander hadn't been able to stand her in pain, then either - and he'd moved forward and embraced her. They'd stayed like that, both of them crying, for a long time.

"Will," He began carefully, "this is magic we are talking about. If you want to take action, get her roses. Get her chocolate. Get her tickets to a concert. But this is big on Tara's list of Willow don't's." Anya had overheard her husband to be's words, even as she was finishing with the money count. She closed the cash register and locked it, then glanced back over toward Xander and the red head.

"But I wouldn't be doing a spell." Willow was protesting. She tossed her pen down in frustration. "I know spells that can force someone to love you. That force someone to stay with you. And if you think I haven't been tempted..."

Xander was surprised and drew back slightly. "I don't think it can be said enough that hearing you talk like that is just plain creepy."

"I know." She agreed quietly. "I promise I'm completely decreeped. I would never do that to her or anyone. Not again. " Willow hated to see those moments of fear for her, and for what she might do leap into his expression. They all still had waverings of trust. Most of them were good at hiding it, but Xander she could read like a book.

"I'm just used to thinking of you as tweedledee to my tweedledum. Butch to My Sundance. I'm not used to thinking of Evilmonger Willow. You're my..." The words were there, and Willow knew them, just as she knew they were hard for Xander to say. Especially in front of Anya who, though she had grown much more accepting of Willow and Xander's friendship, was still far from comfortable with it. He trusted that Willow understood more of his heart than anyone, so he stopped trying to fight for sentimental words he was very rarely good at. Xander just lightly squeezed her hand. Again the pain in her eyes pulled at his heart, this time what he saw was accompanied by a mild strain of hope. "Will, I know its this romantic brouhaha idea, but it's still you doing the manipulation with magic thing. I can't see how that is going to get major cheers from Tara."

I dont think she knows, Xander. She answered and raised her chin slightly. I would anything for her, but she doesnt believe that. She doesnt know how special she is. How special I think she is. Not anymore. I took that away from her.

His adams apple felt like a lead weight. If this were a demon they were fighting, hed grab the biggest weapon he could find and chop it down for Willow. Hed take care of it. This was beyond him, Xander knew it, and he hated it. Youve got to give it time.

I owe her more than that. I wantso much to give her all I have. How can I not do that if this is my chance? She searched his gentle dark eyes with her own. I know you all still worry." Willow acknowledged quietly. It was an uncomfortable truth. One that she was resigned to. She had never brought it up, not till now. The words were confidential, and she wasn't sure she would have felt comfortable bringing it up to anyone but Xander. "But this is different. I dont know how to fight for love, but I think it must have something to do with risking everything you are, everything you have. After that, all of the choices will be hers, not mine."

"And let's go over those choices again. Do you really think that Tara would choose the leave you 'drowning in tears' option? She shouldn't be with you because she feels she has to be." Xander noticed that Anya was raising her hand. He was almost afraid to ask, but he gathered his courage. Um..yes honey?

The ex-demon had been thinking the matter over since the discussion began. "Legends are tricky but they never completely eradicate human choice. Its not like casting a spell, its much messier. Like it said - Tara would be given 'a way' of happiness. It didn't say Tara would have to take it. It said 'drowning in tears' but not drowning in tears for eternity. It was all vague about the chance for eternal love. The really stupid part is that legends rely on the belief of the humans involved. One of them doesn't believe and the whole thing is off."

The construction worker considered all that. "So you're saying it's harmless...like believing in Santa Claus?"

"If you consider the idea of a large man in an ice commune with an army of elves at his disposal harmless." She was quite serious and thought everyone else should view the subject of the bearded holiday man with the same wariness.

Xander decided that he would try explaining to her - again - that there was no Santa. But not right now. "Anya, honey, work with me."

The ex-demon straightened and gave a pleasant expression as she refocused on the original topic. She did like to be helpful. "Yule is a night of not only birth but re-birth, there's already magic in the air. You can't blame that on Willow. Night with full moons, same thing. Not like Willow made the moon. So, yes there's magic, but no - it has nothing to do with Willow. Legends are like following directions on a map - trying to from point A to point B. except point B is never all that specific. Hence the whole murky legend mystique. Legends aren't the same thing as prophecies. They depend on the chosen actions of those involved. They also depend on faith. If Willow completely believed, but Tara didn't, the whole thing would be pointless."

"So if Tara doesn't believe - no drowning in tears?" Willow's voice was hopeful. She made a small notation in her notebook that said: FAITH versus Doubt.

"Even if she does believe," Anya began flippantly, "I don't see that the consequences are all that evil. I mean, what do we all really think is going to happen eventually - if you two stay like you are? One of you is bound to move on and find love again. It will likely be Tara since she was the leaver and you were the leavee."

"Boy, I can never hear that too many times." The leavee in question grumbled unhappily.

Anya gave a dismissive gesture and sat down at the table next to the other woman. "My point - What's in this legend that's so horrible? Or that won't possibly happen anyway? The only thing really note worthy is that whole possibility of eternal love thing."

"I thought everyone got a shot at that." Xander said, his brow furrowed at the unpleasant idea that his beliefs on this subject might not be true.

"No." She answered bluntly. "Life long love is one thing - and I can't tell you how rare that is."

He grimaced. "Honey, not helping the cold feet with the impending marriage thing."

"That doesn't mean it doesn't happen." Anya amended quickly. "But eternal love....that's a rather specific. That's not just life, that's after life. Of course then you run into a whole school of controversial demon thought. Some think eternal is life and what happens after you die. But...some say it means that the love will last as long as the souls do and that souls get reborn and reborn. So, in essence, eternal love would mean two souls that find one another in every lifetime. Always together. The whole Soul-mate thing."

Willow grew very quiet. What am I supposed to do, my love? I couldn't bear watching as the love you hold for me shrivels inside you and dies. The words; 'just friends' taunt me. I don't want to hurt you again. I just don't know anything I can do to repair what I have broken. I swore to you no more magic, no more lying. Would believing in this legend and acting on it be breaking my word? "I know what to do. I know who to ask about this."

"Right, let's get the Watcherman back on the clock and up to his elbows." The young man figured that Giles would call the whole thing nonsense, but Giles could be tricky.

Willow shook her head. "Not Giles. Tara. I'm going to ask Tara what I should do."

Xanders gaze burned into that of his best friend. It crossed his mind to wonder when she had grown up so completely, and why he hadnt noticed. Xander shifted so that he sat taller then she did, then he placed a kiss on her brow. Youre my hero, you know that? He whispered in her ear.

The hacker drew back first and gave a shaky laugh. Well I wish I didnt feel so shaky. Im pretty sure that isnt in the hero handbook. Willow began gathering her things. Im gonna head home.

She declined the car ride he offered. Xander drummed his fingers on the table as the bells of the front door jingled, heralding her exit. He bowed his head with a long sigh once she was gone. I didnt know what to say.

You were a good friend, Xander. Like you always are. The ex-demon murmured soothingly. She set her hands on his shoulders.

Xander didnt move. Willow doesnt know how to do anything halfway. Shes just going to go charging in. The young mans tone was a mix of awe and worried frustration. I dont know what it will do to her if Tara says no.

Anya couldnt think of anything comforting to say. Sometimes, even for her, there were no words that were helpful. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, and laid her head atop his.

Title: Legends of the Kiss part 2B

Feedback: - I will beg if I have to. Really.
Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com
Distribution: Just let me know.

Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.

Rating: PGfor now. There will be at least an 'R' part toward the end, which I have to tell you I am already blushing about writing.

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.

Legends of the Kiss
(Part 2B)
By Mariacomet

"If you're not busy tonight, do you think we could meet somewhere?"

The blonde witch was surprised at the request. Willow calling her was somewhat unusual, or at least infrequent. Ever since Tara had agreed to come to dinner every week, there had been no more than one or two requests from Willow to see one another beyond that. Tara understood that it was hard for the other woman to ask anything of anyone. Her love was just a little quieter now after everything, and her self-confidence was not even half of what it had been. It was getting better though. Willow was finding her pace again slowly.

"Is everything okay?" Tara cradled the phone, trying to read the other woman's voice. An urgency was hovering from the other end of the connection that Tara didn't quite understand.

"I just need to ask you some things. To talk to you."

"I can be there in about a half hour. Around seven o' clock?"

"No. I mean yes on the time, but I don't want..." Willow was silent a moment, gathering her thoughts. She sounds nervous, Tara thought unhappily. "Not here. Can you meet me at the park near school?"

A minute later Tara hung up the phone and frowned. A very subdued Willow had been on the phone just now. They needed to talk, Willow had said. She didn't like the sound of that, just as she hadn't been happy with the seriousness with which Willow had made the request. It would be somewhat ironic, Tara supposed, if after all her thinking on the question of she and Willow's future - the other woman was now going to tell her it was completely over. Perhaps it would also serve her right for waiting so long. And... perhaps it would be for the best.

Hearing the legend at the Magic Box pressed all the sadness within her to the surface. Long ago and far away, she and Willow would have swooned together over such romantic notions as a kiss under moonlight at the height of Yule. What could she compare love to? It was like a drop of water running down a windowpane in the midst of a storm. Tara rolled the drop of Willow between cautious fingertips. She looked at her far too closely, until love became a lake, one she could wade into and be reborn. Tara breathed in air and when it was expelled - scientifically - the composition was changed. But the air was the beginning, and it was no coincidence that there, people found life, just as they found flight. That was Willow, too, and she took her in with every breath.

The book at the magic shop had made Willows hopes rise like a falcon, Tara could see it in her ex-lovers eyes. It had scared her. She didnt know if she could soar that high with Willow again. Love was hope. It was necessary that when one loved they believed in things they could not see. Two people sewing such a perfect tapestry between them had to trust one another. The basis of such faith is the belief in the best of the human heart. They had to be able to look upon the world, and believe that even in the midst of such chaos, the music of love played on. Tara felt partially deaf. She listened to the world now and though she heard all the mystical sounds of nature that shed learned to appreciate as a child, she could only hear the faintest stirrings of music.

She shut her eyes tightly, feeling tears rise like ghosts. It had all gone so wrong. She and Willow were guilty of building castles in the sky. There were days that Tara blamed herself, imaging that her lack of strength was the root of the problem. Perhaps if she'd stood up to her lover when it had first begun. Maybe just after Glory, or with the resurrection spell... Maybe someone else would have been less blind.

The questions frustrated her, made her anger coil inside her like a contented cat. Raging at herself for being weak, at Willow for thinking she was a simpleton. Her vixen had treated her like a puppet, a thing.

Yet at the same time, how could Tara forget that it was Willow who'd stood by her after Glory's attack? The hacker had vowed to take care of her, and had rescued her from the darkness. It was her former lover who had given a shaken Tara the strength to stand up to a family intent on taking Tara home. Willow looked at the shy blonde and had seen a charismatic, sexy, compassionate sorceress. Tara had locked so many doors, certain that she was a small person inside, and not worth much bother. One day this spunky stranger had shown up, Tara had surrendered to her the key ring, and every door had been pushed open. It was as if Willow had been saying - There's more to see, you are more, you are Tara. Don't stay here. You don't belong in this little room. Take my hand. I'll show you. Come with me.

The blonde witch lowered her head, covering her eyes with one hand. She owed Willow so much. Sweet whispered words of yesterday still rang fiery in Tara's ears. Those days long ago when she had been so close... so close to everything she had ever wanted, all she believed she would never have. So hard to let go when you still remember what paradise tasted like, and how the scent of it was heady all around you. But the fruit now eluded Tara. She still caught the whisper of it on the wind at times. Her mouth would water. So sweet. Which was yet another reason to visit Willow's long ago and far away words of commitment and love. To give herself a reason to believe.

It's was an out and out feeling of see-saw that swept over the young woman. She wanted Willow to call. She didn't want her to call. Tara wanted her lover by her side desperately, but she also just wanted to be free of the pain, to leave, to run. The chains of love trapped her, but to leave them behind meant leaving the one thing that meant the most to her. Why Willow? Why only Willow? Dreams were unseen islands surrounded by thick fog. In the mist there was no way to confront them, so easy to become lost there - to live there. Did she really still know who Willow was? How could she ever be sure?

Maybe it was better to end it. They had helped one another grow and perhaps that was all it was meant to be. Tara knew Willow was still trying to mend fences with her, and realistically, Tara couldn't see a way for a permanent repair. The truth she feared the most was that she was hanging on to something that was dying. Tara had been terrified of setting herself up for failure, all her life she had kept her goals well within reach, or at least within sight. The bar was low and it had been a comfortable, if not a happy place. Willow had come along and changed every rule in her life. It was all about jumping a little higher, Willow taking her hand and both of them jumping a bit more. The red head had taken the figurative bar and tossed it out the window.

They had been walking a tightrope. Tara knew better. It had all come crashing down all around them. The fear was stronger now because she knew what it was possible to feel, and how much it could cost her. Part of her swore ' never again. ' The same voice whispered in her ear, wondering aloud what it would do to Tara if she let Willow in... and once again lost her.

Maybe it was better to give into the calmer waters of friendship. As things were, she was a constant reminder to Willow of what was arguably the weakest moment of her life. Willow's confidence needed time to recover. Was it realistic to believe that with Tara in her life romantically, the hacker would ever find the strength of spirit that she once had? Instead, guilt would keep her held back, would constantly rein her in. Tara wasn't sure that she and Willow could ever go forward as a couple again. Healing meant space, without questions, without complications. Maybe letting go was for the best. Eventually, Willow would move on and if Tara's heart ever stopped feeling so numb with regards to every woman BUT Willow... maybe she would too.

Enough. She was tired of thinking. No clear-cut answer ever came. It was unfair to leave Willow waiting forever for a day that might never come. Pain massaged a spiked glove over the blonde witch's heart. It was time to... maybe do what she should have done long ago. If Willow said tonight that they should consign themselves to being just friends, Tara wouldnt argue. On the other hand, if Willow didnt bring it up, then Tara would somehow have to find the courage to do so. It was the right thing to do. Her love needed freedom to move forward, unrestrained by the past.

Tara took her new leather jacket from her closet and ignored the blurred vision, a result of the choking sobs that were filling her throat. Enough.

Her decision was made.

Title: Legends of the Kiss part 3A
Feedback: - I will beg if I have to. Really.
Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com
Distribution: Just let me know.
Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.
Rating: PGfor now. There will be at least an 'R' part toward the end, which I have to tell you I am already blushing about writing.
Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.
Special thanks to: Kieli and Leather Angel for all their help.

Legends of the Kiss
(Part 3A)
By Mariacomet


The night was bulging with thick gray clouds. The stars were barely visible overhead, but the moon cut through, peeking between them. In the distance, a light swung to and fro. Several minutes passed before Tara could be certain what the strange light was. The Willow-sized silhouette behind it eased her mind, but Willow had to come closer still before Tara could make out that her ex was carrying a lantern.

"The lantern is new." Tara noted with a tender smile.

The hacker looked sheepish for a moment. "Well I can't do the teeny tinkerbell light anymore and Xander has a flashlight in his car but the batteries were dead. Anya lent me this from the shop. Willow held up the rather ancient looking oil lamp. Shadows danced around the witch, but her face was alight. Her lips were lifted in a shy smile. She did give me a cryptic warning about not saying the name of a specific demon around it, but I told her I didnt think he'd come up."

I think youre right. But Ill, you know, keep it in mind. They were both trying to sound lighthearted, even teasing. Neither of them was quite pulling it off.

Willow wanted to reach out and touch Tara, to take her hand and thank her for meeting her. The gesture froze inside her and she couldnt quite push out the words. Fear did its evil work inside her, making her stomach feel like it was tied in a hundred little knots. Can we walk a little ways? Theres a spot just over the next hill that I wanted to show you. Isis that okay?

Tara nodded her assent. They fell into step with one another like two strangers. They didnt look at one another, they didnt speak. The hill ahead was not very steep, it was covered in thick evergreen grass and led to the base of a thick oak tree. As they approached it, Willow stopped, setting down the lantern. Above them the tree folded out thick gnarled arms sheltering them, guarding them. The tree was on a plateau between two hills. From where they stood, the college music building and the freshman dorm could be seen. It was winter break though, so there was no movement, no sound beyond the two of them.

Weve studied here before, I think. Tara said breaking the silence.

Willow gave a soft, genuine smile. It was the first expression she had made that evening that didnt seem forced. I was studying, actually, for a test. You were feeding me grapes because I told you no one ever had and Id always wanted someone to.

The other woman remembered. You said you felt like the empress of Rome.

Willow remembered her words, and also recalled lounging back, making a grand show of clapping her hands and saying, Guards! Bring me the Tara-girl, she amuses me. She repeated the words now, longing to hear Taras laughter, a wish that was granted.

Their smiles left them far too quickly. It was always this way; a happy memory, then the shadows of pain between them would invade, wreaking havoc. Thanks for meeting me. The red head began after a moment. I know meeting out here must seem all cloak and daggery.

Its okay, Tara answered, quickly, reassuring Willow. ItsIts a nice night. She gathered her courage and inhaled deeply. What did you want to talk with me about? Her voice sounded strong and even. Good. Not even a hint of the tremors she was feelings inside. Willow tilted her head back and let her eyes rest on the full moon a moment. Willow? Tara called.

Im assuming crash positions. The former admitted then summoned the will to turn back to her ex-girlfriend.

Tara wanted to reach out and touch the woman that still, even after everything, held her heart. Yet something stopped her; some hesitation deep within always stopped her. Whatever you have to tell me, it will be okay. Ill understand.

Willow sat up, moving to her knees, setting her hands on her thighs. TaraI promised you I would always find you. Willows fingertips curled and uncurled as she struggled with the words. This time I dont know how. Theres no magic for me to turn to. Theres just me, just Willow.

Tara looked at Willow for a moment and the woman that had once held her every night as she drifted to sleep. Her Willow. Will, youre not perfect but no one is. Youre brave, and youre giving and you have one of the most beautiful souls I have ever seen. Briefly the blonde touched her ex-girlfriends hand. No matter what happens with you and I, dont ever think of yourself as just Willow. Youre amazing Willow or beautiful Willow. You are Im-so-lucky-I met-you Willow.

Willow shook her head stopping the supportive words. Her ex-lover constantly filled her with awe, at her capacity to be generous. I cant believe you mean that.

I do. The blondes eyes were alive with sincerity, with warmth.

After what I did

I forgave you. Tara insisted gently, unwilling to let Willow doubt it. You know that.

I know. I think youre crazy but I wont look a gift horse in the mouth, especially since I have that whole horse problem. It was a haphazard attempt at a joke and one that raised no true humor in either of them. I know you forgave me, but thats not enough is it? Tara crossed her arms over her stomach, trying to shelter herself from the pain in her former lovers voice. She didnt know how to answer. Their eyes met and the war raged, swinging wildly between love and hope, doubt and fear, until Willow squared her shoulders and all of the strength in her heart shone through her features. Maturity had begun to settle its gentle shroud around the red head, and Willow was becoming quite a stunning woman. I forgave myself, but I still live with it. So do you. And thats my fault. The last words were quiet but heavy with acceptance of responsibility. Willow reached in the backpack and took out the worn book. As much as I want to, I cant give you any guarantees. Thats not what life is, especially not here in Sunnydale. I can just give youeverything.

Taras eyes flicked uncertainly from the book to Willow and then back again. She felt a distinct rage begin to raise its head inside her. Wh-whats this?

The other woman set her hands back on her thighs, immobile. You know the legend.

Hazel eyes narrowed in disbelief. Thats what you called me here, to use magic? Thats why were here?

Wait - I need a few minutes to explain. But I promise you Tara this isnt about magic. Its about us.

Not about magic? You brought me here under the tree of the king. And. I didnt figure out why, not till you brought out that book. The anger inside Tara rose like a wave and she struggled to hold it back.

Willow, to her credit didnt look away but bore the accusing look with a calm demeanor. Whoa, hang on. All right maybe it is about magic, but not that kind of magic. Anya said that legends are like maps from point A to an obscure point B. They dont depend on magic within someone as much as inherent magic that already exists.

Despite herself, the academic in Tara was curious. From what I remember what we read, it has components. It even has a chant.

Its a thin line, but there is a line. See, the main key is that we have to believe both of us - or the legend doesnt work. Its not a spell. The soft dreams were thick in her ex-girlfriends eyes. It made Tara want to run. Willow was asking her to walk the tightrope again with no nets. Frustration swirled like a tide pool in her spirit. She couldnt, and it wasnt fair to ask. It wasnt fair.

A cold icy feeling had settled inside the blonde witch. The anger and confusion shed been struggling with was at full boil. But it is magic. When are you going to learn that magic doesnt fix everything? It cant fix whats wrong with us.

Willow forced half a smile. I think I just experienced dj vu. Okay; apparently I went about this completely the wrong way. Xander is going to say I told you so.
The hacker felt an urgency to make the other woman understand, to prove her innocence before judgment was made. Tara, you have to believe me, I wanted us to do this together. Whatever happened tonight, I wanted it to be us.

Fury twirled within Willows ex-girlfriend like whirlwind. She had wanted to lash out for a long time, but kept it all back, always. Tara was always so worried about being fair. Treating everyone evenly, no matter how they treated her. Well, no more. Not now. Which us? Us as friends? Because the other us is gone. Its been gone for a long time. Just like that, the rage was gone, replaced by an almost unbearable sadness, which is perhaps what it really had been all along. She watched the shock on the other womans face and hated herself for causing it. Im sorry, Willow. Tara softened. She wanted to kiss away the devastation in the other womans face. She wanted to go back in time and change everything that had happened; what she had just said, what Willow had done. At that moment Tara would have risked the darkest of magicks to be able to do so. I was going to tell you, I dont think that its best for us to try and have a romantic relationship. Its not anything you did. Youve been great during the last few months but wewere both different people now.

Dont do this, Tara.

Willows soft defiant words made her stumble. I-Im still your friend. I always will be. I just dont think we should be together as more than friends. I don't think it's for the best - for either of us.

Except for that pesky Im in love with you thing. Emotions rumbled like thunder in the hackers voice. Love and desperation ran together like different colored paint.

I love you, but Ive thought about it a lot and I think this is the right thing to do. Except at that moment she was no longer sure. At that moment, nothing was clear. How had they gotten here?

Willow could no longer stay still. She stood up, walking from the tree and then back. That doesnt make any sense! She cried angrily. It didnt make sense when Oz did it and it doesnt make sense now. Youyou love me but oh well youre leaving me? What kind of twisted logic is that? I mean, am I missing out on some universal joke here?

Im holding you back. Tara insisted. Theres too much between us.

If we love each other, why cant we get past it?

S-sometimes love isnt enough.

Dont say that to me. Of all people, dont you say that to me. Willow said brokenly. I dont understand, Tara. The blonde witch rose from where she was sitting, and stepped toward her. Tara cupped Willows face and carefully began stroking the tears there away. She was unaware that she was crying as well. I dont understand. The small touches from the love of her life began to hurt Willows heart. It was so close, but so far. I dont understand. Willows mind was going a mile a minute, trying to find another way, a way to get Tara to change her mind. Helplessness had always been unacceptable to Willow. It was now. This was a mistake. It had to be. She needed to make Tara see. The LegendWe could try it couldnt we? Just to see.

I thinkI think its just an old book, Willow.

If thats true what could it hurt?

The hope was burning again in Willows gaze. It was too bright, too seductive and Tara couldnt face it. It will just make this harder.

Youve always been more in tune with magic than I am, are you saying that theres no way its true? That on one specific night under specific conditions, something like the legend couldnt happen. She searched her lovers eyes. Its not the legend. You dont believe in us anymore. Do you?

She tried to search for a comforting truth, words that would somehow help, instead of falling into the empty space between them. Something she could say without reservation. I believe in you.

Thats not what I asked. The wheel of Willows thought was going ever faster, trying to comprehend, process, and find a way to safety for both of them. It was like being chased by a demon, one that kept coming, one that she had created. Logically if she had created it then she could fix it, wasnt that true?

We cant be together in that way. Theres too much doubt and confusion. Theres too much fear.

Fear, it always seems to come back to that. Youre afraid. The redhead echoed without emotion, then it was like a volcano erupting. You think Im not? Every word I say to you, everything I do you think Im not terrified of messing up? Do you think I wasnt scared to death of how you would take the Legend idea. But I had to try.

You think I havent tried?

Youre not trying now.

Because *I* dont understand. Tara exploded angrily. I dont understand Willow. I gave you everything and you still needed the magic. I dont understand how you started needing it more than you needed me. I thought we could face anything together. We faced death, Willow. We faced the end of the world. But when I argued against the magic, you stole a part of me. I dont understand why you were willing to do that. Why did you need to feel in control so badly? Why did the idea of giving up the magic threaten you so much? What were you so afraid of?

Suddenly that same voice filled Willows head that always did when she knew she needed to act, but couldnt seem to. Do something, Willow. Say something. Willow had told Buffy about her fears, about feeling unworthy if she wasnt Super Willow. If she admitted everything to Tara, the other woman would surely say all the right words, but Willow would always wonder. The sense of Taras argument was made in that moment. The gap between them seemed uncrossable - there was too much fear.

Tara lowered her head, feeling the wet heat on her cheeks, the tears felt like they were scorching her. She had never wanted to hurt Willow, she had wanted to be the one that was always there. Im sorry. I love you. Please dont hate me. They stared at one another, the echo of dying dreams in their eyes. Tara was shivering. She felt like she was going to collapse, she wanted to fall to her knees and let the tears run from her like an exquisite river of pain, till everything was cold and solid inside her again. The torn feeling in those familiar green eyes was too similar to that which rested in her eyes. All of the anger and justification didnt matter now. Willow had been her home, the holder of her heart. Now she was a wanderer again and felt only emptiness in her chest. Im sorry.

Willow felt frozen in place, hoping this was a bad dream. All the usual methods of problem solving had stilled in her mind. She couldnt think, couldnt move. Words came to her then faded away, unspoken. They stood looking at one another shattered for an eternity.

I should go. Tara said finally. Those three words started the tears again, and she cursed them. She wanted to be strong. Willow nodded. Tara took one step to retreat, then stopped and glanced back Willow. Was this really it? Shouldnt there be more? Would you please call me when you get home? Just so I know you made it okay?

Another silent nod.


Title: Legends of the Kiss part 3B
Feedback: - I will beg if I have to. Really.
Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com
Distribution: Just let me know.
Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.
Rating: PGfor now. There will be at least an 'R' part toward the end, which I have to tell you I am already blushing about writing.
Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.

Legends of the Kiss
(Part 3B)
By Mariacomet

Her first reaction was to be angry, dangerously so, the temptation to lash out was strong. Willow wanted to grab the universe and make it surrender to her bidding. The power was in her, still simmering, still awaiting her command. Willow knew spells, shed told Xander as much, spells for almost anything. Including winning the heart of a reluctant lover. Tara had walked out on her. The world was a cruel, cruel place. It wasnt fair. It wasnt just. It wasnt even good. Why shouldnt Willow use everything at her disposal to get what she wanted, what she needed? I could make her mine. I couldI could

The desire for vengeance was a knee jerk reaction that pushed her to fight back whenever she was in pain. These thoughts lived and died quickly. The path she had chosen long ago was one that would allow her to help people. Admittedly she had a small darkening inside her, one she would always struggle against, but that was not her essence. It was not who Tara had fallen in love with. Tara would say Im better than this.

Willow leaned back against the oak, trying to catch her breath. She suddenly felt as if everything evil in the world was chasing her. A sinking feeling enveloped the young woman. The world was coming apart underneath her feet and she was unable to find any balance. It was possible that she would have stood there forever if the words hadnt risen in her. Her spirit was willing to stay in that place, allowing life to continue around her, as she remained behind trying to gather the pieces of her broken heart. Yet the words did come, and she heard them.

For the one that has touched evil, letting it coil warmly within them but has retreated from darkness back to the arms of cold truth.

I dont know where I was headed. I had grown too powerful. It corrupted me. What I did to Tara is inexcusable, but I did turn back. Even if it was too late.

For the one that has given up part of themselves, sacrificing priceless things for the sake of love.

I pushed magic into a cage. I couldnt bear hurting the people that I loved.

For the betrayer of a gentle soul, that one who is undeserving of a new day but has enough understanding to grieve for the lack of it.

I love you, Tara.

For the brave who can once again lay down their heart even after this offering has been dismissed, or abandoned.

Willow shifted and watched the retreating back of her love.

If the moon is full faced on the night of birth, the longest night of the year

The red head looked up to the round orb above, glowing down on her with tender fierceness. She moved to one knee, and gathered the book. Her fingers moved over it slowly, tracing the leather bound cover.

Maybe it is just an old book.

If she does not find you and return your kiss when the moon is at its highest point, then her heart will pass to another. A new door will be opened to her by the sunrise. She will be given a way of happiness and you will drown in tears.

Tara, before you met me, were you ever as angry as you were today? The shame you felt as a child when your father told you all his lies - had you buried it, baby? Did I give it back to you? Like a nightmare? I was always so proud of your heart. Did I tear its center? Willow shivered. Is that what I did? I would do anythingrisk anything to make it right.

She cradled the volume to her chest and stood. She felt her feet begin to move, rapidly without hesitation, after Tara.

Tara felt something take her arm and she turned, and met the sparkling eyes of the woman she loved. If its what you need, I-Ill do what you asked. Even if I hate it. The words became trapped in Willows throat and she had to fight to continue. But, do something for me. Or, actually, let me do something for you.

Theres nothing left for you to do. Came the blondes quiet, defeated voice. Its all been done. Its all been said.

Willow reacted quickly, afraid that if she paused, the definitive words would take root between them and steal all hope. I made you believe and then I took that belief away from you. The redhead insisted. All I want is to try and change that.

Her ex-lovers lips set in a thin quivering line. Thats not up to you. Emotionally, the tears were still there, but she was too weary to cry.

The redhead pressed the old book into Taras hands. Im asking. Let me do this.

A fleeting look of sad disbelief passed into blue eyes. You always think you can fix things. You cant fix us, Willow.

Willow caught her shoulders. I just want to give. To you. Just let me do this one thing. Let me show what I feel for you. A wall had been standing between the two of them for months; each had been trying to protect themselves. At that moment Willow took down her portion of the wall and stood defenseless. You need to know that you inspire worlds within me Tara. You make me want to be a hero. You make me the bravest person on the face of the earth. Ive told people that I love them before, but it was like a rite of passage. With you, I wanted to spend every breath finding new ways to give you everything. My whole life, I knew I was capable of doing more, doing great things, but you taught me how. Because loving you is the most powerful thing Ive ever done.

It became urgent for Tara to stop the barrage. Her will was bending. What we had was wonderful, b-but you need to move on. You deserve be with someone that makes you happy.

A quiet smile. You know what I want to say back to that. The redhead reached forward carefully curling her hands around Taras. She slowly moved backward one step, then another, urging the holder of her heart to follow. Please.

Her hands were not being held tightly; the power to pull away was hers. Yet Tara didnt, her ragged spirit was too tired to fight now. And she was still too much in love to refuse such a heartfelt request. Part of her rebelled what good was another castle in the sky? Just one more, something in her heart whispered, just for a little while. Tara allowed herself to be lead gently, till they were once again standing under the old oak tree. Willow knelt, still guiding the blonde witch, waiting till she knelt with her.

Conflict bubbled on the surface of Taras mind. Was it wise to let Willow believe, to give her hope? Perhaps she was betraying all that she had intended. This was not a clean break; this was a dance on the edge of a knife. It was bound to cut them both. Adoring green eyes called to Tara, asking her to trust. She didnt know if she could. Youre still my hero, Willow. You make me want to believe. Of her own will, she leaned back, lying down beneath the tree of the king.

Willow moved forward, studying the woman that held her heart in the moonlight. I had a minute of bravery but I think Im having a cowardice relapse. Willow ran her fingertips over Taras eyes, bidding Tara to shut them. Close your eyes. Willow said softly.

Tara couldnt resist the loving touch, and yielded once again, despite her reservations.

So this is what Sleeping beauty looked like, mused Willow, no wonder knights fought dragons. My princess. Willow stretched out next to her. The warmth of Taras body was both tantalizing and comforting. The hacker brushed a stray tendril of golden hair away from where it dangled over her ex-lovers eyes. Tara was wearing her hair up today. It was something new she had begun trying after Willow had come into her life - no more hiding behind the long silken strands. Yet as always, some of Taras hair refused to stay in place, defying its mistress. The sameness of this made the hacker smile.

Willows eyes drifted, touching each line of her loves face: Taras brow, just slightly high, the full cheeks that were only just tinted with red, the lines around the bastion lips always ready to crinkle in a crooked smile. Many nights in their past life together, Willow had watched her sleep. Her expression was then much like it was now, relaxed and trusting.

The redhead leaned forward then paused again, her fears dancing around her. She couldnt be sure what would happen after she started following the path of a legend. The collar of Taras jacket was starting to turn up on one side, and Willow smoothed it down. It was another excuse to touch, to be close, without risk. Willows heart was sprinting in her chest, refusing to allow her to breathe evenly. A whisper in her soul spoke of the price of loving someone without reservation. The cost was everything. The question was loud and unrelenting. For a moment, she felt an urge to draw back, to run. She didnt. Her answer was yes. Slowly she covered Taras lips with her own.

Tara had to fight to keep her hands limp at her sides. They yearned to reach for Willow. My heart never doubts that it knows you. She tilted up her chin, trying to prolong the simple contact between them. It was just a touch and it was electric, their supple lips sampling the long forgotten mimicking of two bound hearts.

Willow felt her body become eager for the kiss to deepen and it was at that moment that she drew back. When Willow spoke, her voice was quiet but unwavering. I offer, I wait. For your happiness and not my own, I bless thee. For your joy and not my own, I wish for thee."

For a moment nothing happened and it was as if a neutral universe had proceeded on as normal, despite the most heartfelt wish Willow had ever made. At that time though, and under that particular full moon, with that particular wish, something beyond the confines of the usual happened. A blue circle of light began to form around the tree. Tara had opened her eyes after the kiss and now sat up rapidly, instinctively drawing closer to Willow. The oak and the two lovers were made bright by the glow of a strange cobalt fire. It formed a thin sphere on the ground, completely enclosing them.

As promised...

Title: Legends of the Kiss part 4A
Feedback: - I will beg if I have to. Really.
Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com

Distribution: Just let me know.

Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.

Rating: PGfor now. There will be at least an 'R' part toward the end, which I have to tell you I am already blushing about writing.

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.


Legends of the Kiss
(Part 4A)
By Mariacomet

Dawn was crouched down behind some bushes. At her side, Spike was laying back with his arms pillowing his head. So far he hadnt paid any attention at all to the scene unfolding before him.

I promised Id help, I didnt promise Id care. He said simply.

She gave him a look that pure irritation. I dont get it, how can you be all like, when Dru and me were in Paris or I love the Slayer but that doesnt mean Ill take any crap all the time when youre such a cynic. Dawn had done a passable English accent when imitating him and was quite pleased with herself.

Im not a cynic, Im a realist. The vampire countered, looking to her. And dealing with Dru and Buffy is exactly why I am that way. Women like that have no idea what they want and lead you around by the short hairs till they figure it out. Which in Drus case lasted centuries.

The teen felt obligated to defend her sister, even though she had witnessed the strange dance that Buffy and Spike did around one another. Well its not like Buffy wants you to chase after her. Just get over her and go after someone else. There must be a nice vamperwoman in town thats a little less alive than Buffy is.

His thin lips lifted a moment. A lot went on that Dawn wasnt told. He wasnt sure he agreed with that. It was no way to prepare her for the real world, but in this case he deferred to the Slayers judgement. Besides, there was something to be said for breaking a kid in slowly to the horrors of the world. That thought made him frown. Any serious horrors wanting to cross paths with Dawn better be a much bigger bad then he was. Most of the regular demons in town knew who Dawn was and more importantly knew who her sister was. Of course there were the visitors to worry about and those that were either too stupid or ignorant to care.

He realized hed been quiet a beat too long. Girl like Buffy forbidden shes a bone to a pup like me. Just the way I am.

Dawn regarded him seriously. It was hard to define what she felt for Spike. She cared about him, but she was very aware that he wasnt entirely trustworthy. Buffy had made it a point to sit her down and explain why NO ONE trusted Spike. Still, the teen did feel safe around the vampire. She wanted to believe he would never hurt her. Besides he was interesting and always had a good story. Dawn generally considered him reliable when it came to herself. But the love/hate thing with him and Buffy concerned her. Spikeyou wouldnt hurt her would you? I mean, shes been through a lot. With Angel and then with Riley. And Giles left and shes, you know, stuck with this troublemaking little sister. And bills. Lots of bills.

His blue eyes were thoughtful for a moment, his more cavalier attitude falling away. This thing with the Slayer and me, I cant explain it. I didnt want to be in love with little Ms. Mary Poppins and her stake collection, believe me. But loves a funny thing. It works its will in you, making you run all hot and cold. One minute, you want to take her in your arms and protect her with everything you got. Next minute, you want to strangle the life out of her with your own bare hands.

That didnt really reassure me.

Its complicated. Spike answered. He always seemed to feel strangely patient with Dawn. Usually he hated being asked about what he considered his personal business. Of course, Buffy was the kids sister. However, he preferred things between he and Dawn to be on the up and up. I know who I am. Ive never paused when it came to getting what I want. No matter who was in my way. Silence stretched between them, both of them measuring the weight of the admission. The vampire didnt like the look of distress that touched the young womans face. Its a good thing that right now what I want is for you and Buffy to be safe. And maybe for Buffy to occasionally get her knickers out of a bind. Point is, I have never let anyone hurt whats mine, except me.

She gave a snort. Buffy and I are yours?

The idea suited him, but he wasnt in the mood to be mocked, so he shrugged. Maybe.

Maybe you should join us here in the 21st century.

Maybe you should put a muzzle on it. I thought you were here to watch the show.

Dawn turned back toward the two witches. Geez, watching the show. Dont get all snippy. Theres nothing worse than a pouting vampire. Spike gave her a hard stare, which didnt see because her attention was firmly back on Willow and Tara. Oh no! Spike! Shes walking away.

Who? The vampire queried with only the vaguest of interest.

Tara.

He leaned up to get a look for himself, and pursed his lips in puzzlement. Wellwhat do you know. The teenager hit him in the arm. Twice. He winced in pain, she was getting to be quite the slugger. Youre THIS close from being put over my knee, Im warning ya, Little Bit.

We have to do something!

No, its alright. See? Red is going after her. Told you, Scoobies are just puppets waiting for a puppet master. He sank back into a reclining position. Buffys sister decided to pointedly ignore him then and turned back to watching the two witches.

A few minutes passed in silence. UmSpike. Dawn called out suddenly.

Her blonde co-conspirator leaned up on one elbow. What, did someone slap someone? The thought seemed to appeal to him. Dawn? Hello?

This is bad. The teenager noted. His brows narrowed in confusion and slowly he sat up to take a look for himself. The two witches were surrounded by a ring of blue. The glow of the circle grew brighter and then suddenly was gone taking with it the two witches and the oak tree. Gone. The word bad didnt seem to cover it.

What happened? Dawn asked him frantically.

Spike groaned. We just sent the Slayers best friend and the newest member of the family to never never land. Thats it. Shes gonna stake me right proper this time.

The teenager was considering that option as well. She had never meant for this to happen. A list of worst case scenarios began to fill her mind and she felt a pins and needles sensation all over her body, as if she might be getting a fever. I thought you said the Legend was a forgery!

Yeah wellEarl saidEarl. He must have swindled me. Obviously terrorizing the smaller demon into doing the Legend for him at a discounted rate, wasnt the best of ideas. It made Spike sigh. Once hed had a reputation. Demons and vamps alike had respected him. That was before the dammed chip and his involvement with Buffys crew. Now they linked him with the other do-gooders. It wasnt fair.

Panic was threatening to surge, and it made her feel cold and clammy. This was all her fault. She clenched her fists, forcing herself to calm down. Panic wouldnt help, but a plan would. Dawn had learned how to be strong, to use her mind when things got tough, this time would be no exception. We should tell Buffy. And maybe call Giles

Spike winced, shutting his eyes tightly. He could have gone to the Bronze. Or to a nice new demon nest he knew just outside town. Instead here he was, half the night gone with a teenager No. The vampire was on his feet before Dawn could blink. Im going to see you home, then Im going to find Earl.

Im coming too.

He doesnt live in Disney land and his customers arent Mickey Mouse and friends. The blonde vampire replied firmly. Ill be faster on my own. You just act like everything is normal and dont tell the Slayer a thing.

But Spike

Not a damned peep, you hear?

[mariacomet]

Title: Legends of the Kiss part 4B

Feedback: - I will beg if I have to. Really.

Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com
Distribution: Just let me know.

Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.

Rating: PG…for now. There will be at least an 'R' part toward the end, which I have to tell you I am already blushing about writing.

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.

Legends of the Kiss
(Part 4B)
By Mariacomet



The word lost is used commonly enough. For instance, when we find ourselves not following a conversation. Sometimes, even if the map is right in our hands, we claim to be displaced. After all, if we don’t know where we are, how then can we find where we are going? People speak of losing their souls, or losing their hearts. A great affectation of romance is the idea of being lost in a gaze, or in another person. It is perhaps a term best describing those who know where they wish to be, but cannot seem to find their way. The flip side of the coin is that being lost always starts out innocently enough.

The two tiered building was unfamiliar at first, though Willow had spent a significant portion of her youth there. It was very dark, of course, save for the cobalt light still shimmering from the majestic oak that had suddenly been placed at the room’s center.

Willow’s instinct was to explore and find her bearings. Tara reached for her, and held her back silently. The redhead obeyed the wordless request. She drew closer to her former lover and gently touched her face.

“Are you alright?”

“A bit scared.” Tara answered honestly, but there was no recrimination.

The guilt came over Willow anyway. “I’m sorry.” She said quietly, her eyes tormented, her hand dropping away from its tender caress. “I’ll get us out of this, I promise you.”

“Wherever we are, I chose to come here, Willow.” Tara shook her head, not allowing Willow to protest the point. “Besides, there must be a reason that we were sent here.”

The only woman Willow had ever loved took her hand. The movement was purposeful and her eyes bore into Willow’s as she did it. They dropped their shared gaze just long enough to watch their fingers twine together. When they had first touched one another, a tingle ran between them, and there was a sense of completeness. Their magics had reached for one another without an invocation, and they knew they could do anything, as long as they were together. It was the same now, the brushstrokes of power that ran through lightly touching fingertips into reluctant hearts.

“This is just like me. All kiss and damn the consequences.” The redhead groused. It was deathly silent, save for the racing of Willow’s heart. She was frantically worrying where they were and how she would get them home. “This is the Bronze, I think. Well I mean, I know it’s the Bronze, but the Bronze is usually less… um…”

“Less blue.” Tara filled in.

“I hope this isn’t alternate dimension Bronze, because alternate dimensions are never a best case scenario. Though in a strange way, I think my vamp self would be kind of pleased if I show up with you… and oh my gosh! Giles!” The former librarian was before them suddenly, an almost chagrined smile on his lips. He was just as Willow remembered him – tweed suit and glasses. Gratitude rushed over her. Both the young women moved forward to embrace him, but he lifted a hand, holding them off.

His eyes were kind, but his voice firm. “Not Giles. Merely a conduit, I’m afraid. I am meant to show you the way home.”

“Home?” Tara asked. “Mr. Giles, we’re not entirely sure where we are.”

“The answer is that you are closer than you think and farther away than you can imagine.” Giles answered with a fond smile.

Willow’s brow furrowed. “I’m not liking cryptic Giles.” She leaned toward Tara, still frowning and speaking in a low tone. “If he takes out a watch and starts talking about how late he is, I vote we run.”

“Ditto, if a Queen shows up and starts talking about ‘off with our head.’” Tara agreed.

Giles gave a long sigh and removed his glass, cleaning them methodically. “Willow, you must pay attention.” Tara and Willow shared a look, both acknowledging that this sure sounded like the Watcher. “Now, you may leave at anytime you wish.” He waved his hand and a fire pit appeared in the middle of the room. “To leave you have only to burn the book.”

“As a former librarian, shouldn’t you be against book burning?” The redhead pointed out.

He shrugged and slid his hands into his pockets. “Legends disappear and reappear all the time over the centuries. You cannot kill them. You can only displace them.”

Sounds began to thrash around beyond their line of vision. An animal growling, and then the distinct sound of crying, a soft child-like crying. “What’s out there in the dark?” Tara whispered to the Watcher.

Giles gave her a perplexed look, seemingly surprised that she didn’t know. “Willow knows.”

Willow blinked at him. “But I don’t know.” She looked to Tara. “Really. You know everything I do.”

Tara didn’t debate the point at the moment. She kept her eyes on Giles. “Is it dangerous?”

Giles smiled, the paternal love doling from his eyes. “There are Monsters here. Several beasts that have lived here in the dark for an eternity. But they are all quite contained.” The soft sobs grew louder then ceased all together. “Once upon a time there was a land of shriveled, sad things. They lived in the dark, you see, because they knew they were so horrible that if people saw them, they would run in fear. Or worse, people would hate them. More than anything, these monsters longed for a place of their own, where they could be loved. For as monstrous as those beasts were, each had a heart that yearned for more. In their naivete, they elected a queen from among them. She was the most beautiful creature in the land. They placed their faith in her, trusting that she would find them a home, a place where they were not feared and could live happily in the light. The queen sought out such a place, but when she found it, she betrayed the creatures and kept it for herself.”

“Is that where we are? Are we supposed… to find this queen?” The blonde witch wondered aloud. Confusion etched her features. “I don’t understand. What does this have to do with Willow and I?”

The older man made no effort to answer; instead he stared off into the distance. While he had been talking the sound of movement, rustling like someone was walking through brush, had surrounded them. Now, it was completely silent again. Giles looked to them. “I really must go.”

“All we have to do is burn the book and then we can go home?” Willow asked urgently.

“Of course.” He replied calmly. She started toward the fire, book in hand. “If you do, though, you will not be afforded this opportunity again. Didn’t you claim you’d do anything to show Tara what she meant to you? Weren’t you desperate to show her?” The Watcher looked to Willow. “This is what you wished.”

Frustration flashed in her eyes. “I wished to be in the land where the ‘Wild Things’ are?! Someone REALLY misunderstood me.”

“It’s completely your choice.” Giles said and he started walking forward beyond the illumination of the tree. Just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone.

A distinct cracking sound came from the other side of them. It rang in the air once, then there was a pause before it came again. Out of the shadows walked a dark haired woman in a neat grey business suit. Her facial features were obscured by a mask. In her hand she was loosely holding a long black whip. “You two, what are you doing here?” She said addressing Willow and Tara. Suddenly, she turned her back to them and cracked the whip at something in the darkness.

A whimper and then a sharp howl sounded. It was so shrill that it hurt their ears. “What are you whipping?” Willow demanded.

The business woman shook her head. “Oh believe me, you don’t want to see.”

“Why not?” Tara asked.

“Because it’s ugly.” The woman with the whip replied and growled toward the shadows. “I told you to STAY BACK!” She raised the whip and swung it over her head cracking it fiercely in front of her. Whining began, softly, much more quietly then Willow would have expected after such a blow. “And be QUIET.” She ordered the unseen creature. “I mean, excuse me? Who gave you permission to exist?”

The redhead frowned. Something was familiar abut the voice and this flash of un-placeable recognition disturbed her as deeply as the place itself, though in this case she couldn’t say why. “It sounds hurt.”

“What did it do?” Tara questioned. Horror burned in her eyes. She hated the idea of anything being mistreated. “I mean… why are you hitting it?”

The lady before them made a nonchalant gesture. “Oh, it likes it.”

“It likes it?” Willow repeated, feeling rather dumbfounded. The whole evening was turning out much more strange then even a lifetime in Sunnydale had prepared her for. She made a frantic grab and managed to steal the loosely dangling whip from the other woman’s hand. “Well maybe we should see how you like it, huh? I mean, maybe we should see how tough you are now.”

The woman in the mask crossed her arms over her chest. “Look, really, you don’t want to get involved here. It really does like it. Here, I’ll show you, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She snapped her fingers and motioned something forward. “Come on, come on out.” She called.

A long low beast crawled into the circle of blue light. It was strange that it should crawl because it had arms and legs. Still, it seemed to ooze forward, as if in reality, it was formless. Long thick hair ran in uneven patches over it’s form and red dots lined it’s jellylike skin. It’s head was overly large, about double the size that the normal human head was. Neither of the witches could see its face for it had its head utterly bowed. It was shaking, turning its head this way and that, though not daring to look up, not once.

Willow felt a wave of pity and revulsion. Everything about it hurt her senses; the way it moved, it’s green olive complexion, the coarse hair, even the way it smelled. It disgusted her. She looked at the whip in her hand and had the strangest urge to wield it on the beast and drive it back into the shadows. It was insane but she wanted to hurt it. Even worse, she wanted to kill it. Something inside her said that it deserved to die. No, that was wrong. Surely nothing deserved that fate. It just should have never existed. It had no place in the world. It had no place anywhere.

“See,” Said the business woman. “No chains. Nothing stopping it from defending itself… or even running away, if it wanted to. But it doesn’t. I whip it and it comes back for more.” As if her words were prophetic, it laid it’s head on her shoe and whimpered again. “You see? It wants more.”

“Let’s go Tara.” Willow said in a voice much harsher than she intended it to be. This thing was pathetic. It wasn’t that she felt no sadness at all for the beast. It was just that it was clear to her that it was its own fault that it was here. The blonde wasn’t listening; she knelt down in front of the beast and started to reach out a hand. “Don’t touch it.” Willow cried out loudly.

“She’s right.” The business woman said and reached for the whip that Willow held. The hacker surrendered it without another word. “Look, I don’t know where you all come from but… you wanna fit in here, the first rule is: know your losers. Once you can identify them all by sight.” She gave the creature at her feet a meaningful glance. “They're a lot easier to avoid.”

Willow knew the words, it was hard to forget something that was wedged deep inside you. She felt stricken, and her eyes were glued again to the beast. The beast lifted its head and she was caught by its eyes, the same green as her own. She stumbled back almost losing her balance. This thing didn’t belong to this place at all, it belonged to her and she was ashamed of it.

Willow moved quickly, ceasing her ex-girlfriend’s hand. “Tara, come on, let’s leave this place.”

Tara’s gaze swung between Willow and the monster. “What is it? Willow?”

Words fell weakly from her tongue. “I just don’t think you should see.”

“She’s already seen.” The woman with the whip said.

“She doesn’t have to see anymore.” Willow shot back angrily. She stepped between the business woman and Tara. “I know who you are.”

“I should hope so,” came the flippant reply. “You invited me here. What she sees isn’t my choice, you know. I think you’re making the right decision. Burn the book.” The monster at her feet faded back and gave a growl. It’s stance became rigid and fierce. The masked stranger sighed at the monster. “Excuse me? Do I horn in on your private discussions? No. Why? Because you're boring.”

Willow felt like screaming. It was too much, like a dance she was forced to keep time to. “Okay, I SO did not invite you here.”

“Willow, who is that?” The hacker tried to pull Tara back, closer to the tree, but the blonde held her ground. Tara knew when Willow was afraid, that little girl fear that sometimes assaulted the usually cheerful woman late at night. The kind that Tara had once been able to shield her from just by wrapping her in an embrace. She had seen Willow want to hide before, to play the brave one, and she knew Willow was trying to hide now, though she didn’t know why.

The awful child’s crying filled the air and the redhead shivered. She grew so sad that everything froze inside her and she could no longer feel her heart beating. Before high school she had gone to sleep every night promising herself that the next day would be different. She would know how to answer all the people like Cordelia Chase who called her a freak, who insisted she was a nerd. She could beat everyone at academic achievement. She would show them all. She was just as good as they were. Better, maybe, at least in some cases.

But no matter how hard she’d tried, it hadn’t mattered. Being successful at school hadn’t impressed anyone – not her parents, not her peers. In her head, she drew marvelous pictures of who she wanted to be. Her dreams made her into someone that people looked to, instead of laughed at. Someone who was beautiful and strong, and who had lots and lots of friends. In fact, people were clamoring to be her friend in her mind. Sometimes she imagined saving one of the more popular kids from a horrible academic failure and forever earning her gratitude. This mystical being would explain to everyone that Willow Rosenberg was really very nice, and there had just been some bizarre misunderstanding somewhere along the way.

The reality was they treated her like she was the freak at the sideshow. They pointed at her and whispered, and sometimes they laughed. After a while, all she’d wanted was to disappear, to have the consistency of mist. The worst part was that, back then, she hadn’t understood why they disliked her so, why they surrounded her like wild wolves around a lamb. Why her? What had she done? How had she singled herself out? She looked back, amazed at her own ignorance.

What did she expect? Dressing in those mousey outfits and that frumpy haircut. Always letting people know how smart she was. That good little girl persona she was always trying to pull off. Oh so nice to everyone, so hopeful that if she was nice enough people would like her, would accept her. The good little girl, who never made any waves, was the perfect studious daughter and every teacher’s dream. Until well into her sophomore year, Willow had been too weak to stand up to her parents, too weak to stand up to anyone. Nerd. Victim. Freak. Loser. All these words seemed to fit, all of those words and more.

“Willow.” Tara tried again.

Willow was remembering the one line in the legend that offered an explanation for this place and for the beast they now faced. Offer her a kiss and things unspoken will be spoken, all things unknown in you, she will know.

Would Tara be horrified if she learned the truth – unable to ever look at Willow again as the confident, powerful woman she’d become? Would Tara remember only this disgusting monster – no, not monster, that was overly generous – this parasite. The parasite that had latched onto the beautiful, confident Buffy Summers, drawing from her strength. Willow had been so vulnerable, without meaning to be, so defenseless. She couldn’t risk that Tara – that anyone – would ever again try and make her into that person again.


Her green eyes swung to those of her lover. Tara had been so quiet when they had first met. Not a nerd, like she had been, Tara had been a wallflower. They had talked about their past. Tara seemed at peace with the fact that she had barely talked to anyone in High School. She hadn’t been an outsider as much as she had been somewhat invisible. Willow had told her a little about high school and before. Precious little. She hadn’t wanted to admit to Tara what she had been.

Just as she didn’t want to admit it now. As Giles had said, though, hadn’t she wished for this? To give? To show Tara how much she loved her?

Love was a risk, she had heard it said. What if that was wrong? What if love was to stare down fear, take apart the puzzle of your own identity, then lay the pieces in someone else’s hands? Maybe when you really gave someone your heart, you helped them build that puzzle. You hoped that when the picture was complete they would still love you. The offering was without restraint, and though the hope was there, nothing was ever truly asked in return. Willow had never given anyone everything. The closest she had ever come was with Xander, who knew her long enough to be privy to most of her secrets. Though she loved Xander and Buffy, and had loved Oz, there was deception. She was still good old reliable Willow, only now it was much more of an act than it once had been.

I love you, Tara.

Her shoulders slumped. Willow looked down, her head bowed. “It’s hard to explain. I mean, I don’t totally understand it.” She took in a deep breath, gathering her courage. “Tara, you always believed in me so much. From the first moment we met, you had faith in me. You saw me the way I’ve always wanted someone to see me. Oz used to look at me that way, but there was so much about me that he didn’t know. But somehow you knew… and you looked into me and saw something beautiful, something wonderful.”

A tall young man in a varsity jacket stepped up beside the business woman. She gave him the whip and he laughed. He gestured to the monster. “She’s just some egghead who tutored me a little in high school. I mean, she’s nice, but, come on, Captain of the nerd squad.” He shrugged. “I like my women hot. Call me old fashioned.”

Again, a figure stepped out of nothingness. It was a young man with dark hair this time. Willow recognized who it was immediately, even with the mask. “Poor little thing.” The man bent down and snickered at the monster, who backed away, once again the cowardly beast that it had been before. “I won't be needing your help anymore.” He addressed the monster. “Which means I won't have to look at your pasty face again.” The newcomer laughed again.

Willow blinked. How could something hurt her so much twice? Only it had never stopped hurting her. Words should be easy to escape from. They were just sound and air. She had run, but there was so much that she was never fast enough to escape. They had become phantoms of another life circling her, poking at her with their sharp phantom sticks. They wanted her to be weak, and to lose everything.

“Stop it.” Willow ordered all of them, but her voice broke. “I get it, okay. This whole surreal Willow-hell – I get it.” She turned to the newest young man. “Xander, take off that stupid mask.”

Sure enough, the young man lifted his mask to reveal the face of her long time friend. He seemed almost apologetic. “Sorry, Will. But in my defense, I’m not really in charge here.”

This time Tara grew more firm. “Willow, tell me what’s going on.” For one of the few times in her life, the redhead didn’t know what to say.

“You should go.” Xander said. “She shouldn’t see. There’s other things here, Will. You know that. You should keep her safe.”

It wasn’t about keeping Tara safe. It was about keeping herself safe. She had faced the end of the world, but she didn’t know if she was strong enough to risk showing Tara her secrets. Dirty little secrets buried deep in the soil of her, and rightfully so – kept away from the light. People held pictures of one another in their minds. Tara had one of Willow, one that the redhead liked, to risk being returned to the old drab Willow Portrait was unthinkable. How could anyone ever look at that person and love? That person was… spineless, a coward. A needy thing that reached out to everything, to everyone. She was held in chains by her parents, her classmates circling, mocking everything about her. She didn’t try and get free; she just did what was expected of her and kept running faster on the proverbial treadmill.

“He’s right.” Willow said finally in a voice that was barely loud enough to be heard. “We should go.” The sobs started from the darkness once more, and Willow felt her strength begin to sink. She knew that sound. The sound was of a dreamer, one who had been wishing for a different life, realizing that she could not change her fate. She shut her eyes, as if that act could drown out the noise. “Wait.” She told Tara. “It’s all me.”

Tara shook her head, not comprehending. Willow gathered enough courage to look at her. “This place. I think I made it. The monster… it’s…” Her mouth was suddenly dry, her head felt like it was spinning. She couldn’t make the words come. Willow swallowed hard, fighting for control of the fear. “The monster is me.”

“It’s worse than that.” Xander countered softly. “You’re the queen.”

Sorry this took a bit...


Title: Legends of the Kiss part 5a

Feedback: - I will beg if I have to. Really.
Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com
Distribution: Just let me know.

Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.

Rating: PG… for now. There will be at least an 'R' part toward the end, which I have to tell you I am already blushing about writing.
Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.


Legends of the Kiss
(Part 5a)
By Mariacomet

When two people love, they share one another’s pain. They stand in a circle with one another by choice, so when winter comes, neither can hide from the chill.

How did we get here? I wanted to hope. Beyond all logic, all doubt, all thought, I wanted to believe in magic with her. My heart, that foolish cavern of wishes, needed to feel more than emptiness. I was alone before I met her. I knew those shoes and I knew that path. I don’t know this one. What harm in letting her believe? In trying to find some part of me that still believes too and letting it run free? Candlelight is romantic and it may lead you up a dark staircase, but it can still burn. It is still fire and that is the reality.

Willow was not one to back down from a decision once it was made. She had always been able to bravely follow through, even if the consequences were not quite what she’d expected. Willow’s head was still held high, the frame of her features were open and confident. However, she was not happy with the turn of events that had led them here. Strength was more illusion then substance, and Tara could see doubt peeking through the cracks of the façade. More than that, she could see fear.

“The story that Mr. Giles told us, you mean you think Willow is THAT queen?” Tara asked trying to clarify.

Xander pulled out a chair rather gallantly and motioned to it. “Here you go, your majesty.” Willow blinked at him but sat down.

“What do you want from her?” The blonde asked, trying to bring some sense to this place.

Willow’s best friend smiled pleasantly, as if a child was asking a question of him, and he was seeking to instruct. “She’s playing the white side of the board. Her move.” He noted. “It’s an old question - The Lady or the Tiger? Two roads diverging in an empty wood…”

The redhead looked at him in shock. “Suddenly you know poetry? Have I mentioned how incredibly weird this whole thing is? I mean, this is like – First Slayer weird.”

Tara looked to the monster again - jellylike and crawling, with its disfigured, large head and its cowardice. The beast was so hideously ugly that it was bound to inspire fear. Tara was not immune to this. Even as the implications of what this place was began to settle in her mind and she realized that nothing here could truly harm her, she was afraid. How could that be Willow? This place? The monster? She turned then to her ex-lover, watching the play of emotions there. She’s more afraid then I am.

A spotlight grew from a pinpoint to a wide circle to the left of them. “Shhh.” Xander said. “This is the best part.”

The light was harsh, too bright for such a setting. It revealed a young woman with long red hair parted in the middle. She was dressed in a green jumpsuit, her features creased in agitation. Beside her was a pile of books. The green beast crawled to her and settled at her feet.

“I’m supposed to read all the books.” The girl said with a frown. “And then… I’m supposed to read them again. Out loud. But I must be quiet or I’ll get in the way.” The distress was growing more vivid on her features. “Only I’m always in the way. In Buffy’s way too, when I don’t do what I’m told. I have to do what I’m told.” She bit her lower lip lightly. “I… I’ll just have to be quieter.”

Two others appeared in the light. Tara recognized Willow’s mother. They had met once and only once. Mrs. Rosenberg had gotten her name wrong, and Willow had allowed it. The encounter was fleeting at best, anyway. As far as Tara knew, Willow’s mom didn’t even know that her daughter had moved out of the dorms at UC- Sunnydale.

She assumed the man was her ex-lover’s father. She had seen pictures and they vaguely resembled this man before them.

At the sight of them, the girl with the books stood up and began waving her hands frantically. “Here! I’m over here! I’m over here!!”

The man turned to the woman. “Did you hear something?” He asked.

Willow’s mother tilted her head to one side. “I think that was our daughter.”

Mr. Rosenberg looked confused. “Do we have a daughter?”

“But… but, look… I’m reading all the books.” The child in the jumpsuit said meekly.

“I don’t know.” Mrs. Rosenberg said to her husband with a similar casual curiosity. She brightened after a moment. “Maybe not.” Together they wandered out of the light. The child watched them go, motionless until they had left her.

“Do you know what happens next?” Xander asked Willow softly. Her eyes were glued to the scene, her answer came in the form of a slow nod. The assurance of one who had made a decision and was content to stick with her guns was rapidly fading from her. She looked more and more like she just wanted this place to go away.

The child look up at the tower of books, and slowly lifted another from the pile. Quietly, she began to read. She read them slowly, piling them from one side of herself to the other.

The ironic sadness of the situation felt crushing to Tara. The little girl who wanted so much to please everyone, finding that such a feat was impossible, but unable to stop trying. The cold was rising in the air, freezing wind that bit at fingers and toes. I’m at Willow’s side in the snowstorm, and if I could I’d send her inside and bear it for her. I don’t know where we are. I don’t know the rules here.

The spotlight went out, and once more, the only light was the strange glowing blue.

“The Queen was supposed to be our savior.” Xander explained to Tara, his expression neutral. “She left us. She wanted to pretend that we never were.”

“I changed.” Willow said in small, lost voice.

Xander shook his head in the negative, his face still lacking judgment for or against her. “You just got good at hiding.” Xander motioned to the beast, who raised its head for just a moment. “Once a monster, always a monster, Will.”

Tara’s anger had been building and now was completely roused. No one had the right to make Willow feel like she was anything but Willow, her Willow. She lifted her chin proudly. “Willow is Willow. I don’t know who you really are but…”

“He’s right.” Willow told her ex-girlfriend in a small voice.

“You said you didn’t want to play.” Came another voice. It was Willow… another Willow, with a pout in place, dressed all in leather. Slowly, in a sultry walk, the doppelganger circled her true self, looking her up and down. “But you’ve been playing without me, haven’t you?” The real Willow stared at the vampire, and if she had looked terrified before, she was horrified now. “That was very naughty.” Her vampiric self gave a teasing smile and moved to stand beside the green cowering creature. She touched its head lightly, then moved her hand tickling under its chin. The vampire version of Willow straightened and gave her true self a little wink. “You’re me… or it. Either way…” She gave a little happy sigh. “Monster.”

Xander, the vampire, even Willow herself were talking around issues, or past them, the conversations were nonlinear. Tara’s mind, rooted through the words trying to find the nature of where she was. It was coming clearer every moment, but something about the core still evaded her. It was like knowing the details of a crime scene without knowing the actual crime. A monster is something to be afraid of. Something that hurts you or maybe something that you think wants to hurt you. Willow says that she IS the monster. This place is her, that’s what she said. I thought I was a demon, but I had been lied to. Is that what this is, a lie that Willow accepted? That feels wrong – I think everything’s coming from her. Just from her. I know Xander, but the others – they must be illusions. Illusions created by Willow? No… from Willow. The difference is subtle. So then Willow has been telling herself that she’s a monster? Why? “How… How is it that you’re suddenly a monster?” Tara’s question was an attempt to reach out as much as to gather understanding.

“Nothing here is sudden.” The hacker answered, bitterness hedging her voice.

Okay, I thought this couldn’t get more strange, Tara thought, I guess I was wrong. I’ve lived in Sunnydale three years. I can handle this.

The vampire rolled her eyes. “Bored now. Willow was a very bad girl, not to tell you about me. I feel all left out. ”

“She did tell me about you.” Tara was glad to have something along the lines of a coherent topic. “At least I think it was you. She mentioned leather and…” Her brow furrowed. Willow had used a lot of words including ‘skanky’ as Tara now recalled. “Actually I don’t think it’s a good idea to repeat her description just now.”

“That’s cute. You really think you know.” She leaned in very close to Tara. “Do you want to know a secret?” Her eyes roamed over Tara lazily and she deliberately leaned in even closer to inhale the fragrance of blonde’s hair. “I can tell you a lot of secrets about sweet little Willow.” Tara was about to calmly, but firmly request that the undead woman back away, but her ex-lover beat her to the punch.

“Stay away from her.” Willow growled. Her voice was tinged with a combination of rage and power. It was the same inflection that Tara had heard her use on Sweet, the demon who had caused them to sing their secrets to one another. Behind the words was the promise that retribution would be soon and swift, if the command wasn’t followed. As if I needed any proof that the darkness and the temptation for her to give in was still there. Will that ever change? Will it always be just a question of making her angry enough or frightened enough?

Her evil twin stepped back, and the redhead relaxed slightly. It was hard to feel totally at easy when the vampire looked even more content. “Too late for that. We could make it a game. Like Truth or Dare.”

“I don’t think that game would be such a good idea here.” Tara said.

A slow feral smile curved the lips of the leather clad woman. “Awww, she still doesn’t understand. Not too late. See? Not too late. Burn the book and Dorothy goes back to Kansas.”

The words seemed to sink into the red haired witch, shattering that which had once been resolute inside her. The redhead took a few steps toward the fire.

“There must be another way.” The statement was partially a plea from the hacker to Xander. He had always been her friend, it was as if Willow was hoping he would continue to be, even here.

“You don’t mean another way. You mean an ‘easy’ way.” Xander shot back, seeming almost amused. “You knew the terms. Everything. What did you think that meant? Roses? Chocolates? Tickets to a concert?”

The hideous beast threw back its head and let out a howl. Meanwhile a solitary light rose on the girl in the jumpsuit again. She was still reading. This time the pile of books on the ‘finished’ side had grown immensely. The child would never truly be done, though. That was the nature of this place. Vampire Willow took a few steps forward and gave a soft snort, then crossed her arms over her chest.

Willow took in the guise of all three, and then turned one more to Xander. Her oldest friend’s face was emotionless. He slid his hands into his pockets. The hacker had seen enough. She moved forward suddenly, till she was standing at the edge of the pit. At her approach the flames seemed to dance higher as if they were hungry. Her eyes were locked on them now, as if she was entranced.

“Wait.” Tara called, following her. Tara wasn’t sure what to say. They had come here and there had to be something for them to do. Wasn’t that the way these things worked? “Ever since we got here, I feel like everything around me is moving a hundred miles an hour and I’m standing still. I know that you’re scared. And this is a pretty scary place, but I know that’s not why you’re scared. The last time you looked like that was that one time Miss Kitty Fantastico ran away.” Or when Buffy died. Or when I left, Tara thought to herself.

“You don’t understand.”

That was true, but Willow wasn’t helping and they both knew it. “Then explain it to me. You say you’re a monster and that this place is you and then you don’t say anything.”

“I’m sorry.” Willow whispered and stretched out her hand slowly, the book held by an unsteady hand over the means of its destruction.

Tara was close enough to intervene and did so. She cupped Willow’s face. “Look at me.” Her ex-girlfriend refused, so, carefully, the blonde turned her head until their eyes met. “Tell me what you’re so afraid to face.”

“I know I asked you to do this.” Willow began, managing to lift her eyes from the flames long enough to address Tara. “I thought I knew what I was doing. Famous last words right?” She managed half a smile at her own joke, even if it did hold a sad truth

So many nights at her Tara’s side, Willow had been restless, thoughts coming at her in unceasing waves. Tara would gather her close and only then would she close her eyes. Tara would kiss her forehead lightly and think ‘My warrior.’ As if Willow had heard her, she would smile just a moment after the kiss.

“Willow,” Tara whispered urgently, “tell me what’s making you feel this way.”

“You said you believed in me. I guess the truth is that I don’t believe in myself.“ Her fingers ran over the edges of the book, the flames before her popped greedily. “I can’t believe that if you know… everything… you’ll still…Tara, you don’t know who I am.”

How could Willow say that? Tara had felt like half a person since they’d separated. Incomplete days wound into endless nights. “You’re the one I’ve shared everything with for two years. You’re the one who waged war on a god to save me. You’re the one…”

“That you’re leaving.” Willow said, anger and pain riding high in her voice.

The words were like a bell tolling. Tara’s hands fell away from her former lover. She and Willow had followed the legend and begun building another castle in the sky. Such things were bound to tumble and fall. It was only a matter of time. Didn’t I tell myself that too much had happened, Tara asked herself. Did I really believe that one kiss would change everything? I just wanted… what? To forget that anything had ever happened? To - just for a moment - be the Tara that loved Willow without fear? Did I really think in the deepest part of me that it would be easy? I should have been stronger. I should be now.

The real world was a somber place. It closed in around them. “Y-you’re right.” Tara answered quietly “I shouldn’t have… I was just so tired of fighting myself. But you don’t owe me anything. I don’t know what I expected would happen.”

Willow turned toward Tara, the world was spinning somewhere behind her eyes. Her back was partially facing the fire now, causing shadow and light to war for dominion over her features. Two tears that had been hiding in Willow’s eyes fell, running down her cheeks, leaving glistening trails of silver. Slowly she lowered the book back to her side. “I don’t know if you noticed but I’m having kind of a weak moment here." The half-hearted attempt at a joke was grim, but strength was beginning to radiate from deep inside her.

Fear had reminded Willow of it's influence but now another power was consuming her. Her heart, her mind, her will focused on the picture of Tara with reverent awe. It bolstered her.

Willow fought to steady herself, her voice, her skittish resolve. "You deserve someone who’s willing to do anything for you. I want to be that person. And no matter what happens… this way you’ll know. You’ll always know. You’re my everything.” Willow pushed the book into Tara’s hands. "Take this. If I keep it, I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to let you see.”

The hacker stepped back and wiped at her face, her shoulders straightening. “These things, they’re my secrets. Who I was, who I’m afraid I am. They’re how I see myself, before Buffy, Actually, um… even after her.” Gathered bravery tried to escape, but Willow’s resolve was strong and she continued after another deep breath. “When I was younger, I never made any decisions for myself. It was all about doing what I was told. I was weak and no one… no one wanted anything to do with me. Not even my parents. I wasn’t very good at anything except school work. I would let people use me. I’d know they were doing it but I thought if I could help, then… then it would be different.”

“But that… that doesn’t make you a monster.” Tara told her gently. “And…Xander was your friend. He’s been your friend all your life.”

Xander walked toward them, Vampire Willow and the beast falling in step beside him. “She bothered me.” He said. “She was so weak and accommodating. Always letting people walk all over her, and getting cranky with her friends for no reason.”

“Even Xander… he didn’t see all of me.” Willow continued softly. “I was just good old reliable Willow.”

Xander nodded almost enthusiastically. “You were like a guy. You were my guy friend that knew about girl stuff.” The words made the redhead wince and the memories were thick for a moment. She folded her hands in front of her and stared at the ground. “Sometimes she used to wonder if that’s why Buffy picked her for a friend. You’ve heard of that haven’t you? Pretty girl hanging out with a plain girl because of the whole non-threatening ego building thing?”

“But she is beautiful.” The vampire commented. “She’s all dark and angry inside. Mmm… it’s breathtaking. Does she know about D’Hoffryn?”

“No.” Willow said simply, making no effort to explain any further, knowing that her evil twin would take great delight in filling in the gaps.

Willow had her head bowed, standing quietly, rigidly. It was a meek pose, one of surrender. She’s leaving it to them to tell me, Tara realized and the implications of that began to tumble over her. No defenses, no excuses…just…She’s just going to stand there.


Sure enough, the vampire seemed delighted. “Oz hurt her, so sweet little Willow wanted to hurt Oz. She was going to do a spell… hmmm… seems to be a trend with the people she says she loves. Only with Oz, she stopped herself. ”

It was meant to be a blow. Tara kept her expression as it was, merely waiting. Willow needs me to hear this, she reminded herself silently. All of it. “What was the spell?” Tara asked calmly.

“She wanted to cause him pain.” The former replied. “She wanted him to never known happiness again. But…she just couldn’t go through with it.” The pout was back, even more prominent then usual. “Poor Willow was all alone… and no one listened to her. She did another spell but it went wrong. Or… maybe it didn’t. Maybe the part of her that wanted revenge on all her so-called friends was just the strongest part of her. Her magic is strong, but her pain — it's like a scream that pierces dimensional walls.” She gave a little laugh. “Where was I? Oh yeah… D’Hoffryn. He offered her a job as a vengeance demon.”

“That’s what Anya was.” Tara remembered.

“Sweet little Willow said no, of course. But D’Hoffyrn gave her a talisman, just in case she ever changed her mind.” A mischievous expression came over her. “Want to have some fun? Why don’t you ask her if she kept it?” The woman in leather strolled around Willow. “Course not. Sweet little Willow wouldn’t keep a demon’s talisman, now would she?”

“I have it.” The hacker admitted. “I couldn’t… I didn’t want to get rid of it. I don’t know why.”

The vampire licked her lips. “She likes the power. She likes the way it tastes.”

“She doesn’t know who she is anymore without the magic.” Xander said quietly.

The spotlight rose again and the woman with the whip, the man with the letter jacket and others began to surround the child in the jumpsuit and her books. One by one they began to point and laugh. The girl drew in closer to herself, trying to make herself smaller and just kept reading.

Somewhere beyond the mocking, an unseen child began to cry again. The winter was thick in the air, molding around the scene, its icy fingers slowly stealing the life out of whatever it touched. Tara knew the sound of a child’s cry and the way it could burn in the air, refusing to be ignored. It raised above all the other noises.

“No,” Tara insisted and stepped closer to Willow. “You’re more than this.”

“You never knew her before. You saw the magic in her.” Xander pointed out to Tara. “Isn’t that what you first saw? That she was powerful?”

“I saw that she was different.” Tara countered, her eyes were beseeching Willow to look up, but the hacker didn’t.

“Because of the magic.” Xander stated again.

And then standing there in the mass of noise and confusions was Oz, hands deep in his pockets, stoic look in place. “Love is a funny thing.” Oz said with a little shrug. “You get blinders on. Honest mistake.”

The little girl looked up from the books to where the werewolf stood. Tears shimmered in her eyes. She hugged a book to her chest, as if she was trying to force the pain to stay inside and not overcome her. The child walked to the beast and knelt at its side. She lifted its head. It whined softly.

“We don’t belong to anyone.” The little girl said.

You belong to me, Tara wanted to say. It was there on the tip of her tongue but wouldn’t stumble forward. She didn’t know if it was true. The hesitation was still there, as was the fear. This place is the sound of a heart beating. This is all Willow has, all she has been. I have been the caretaker of her heart, but there were locked rooms that she never let me see. Why didn’t she tell me there were so many rooms?

She knew why. We all think we have secrets we can’t tell.

The lady in leather pinched Oz’s rear playfully but his expression didn’t change. “Did she tell you she threatened Giles? Giles dared to question her. He didn’t understand that it’s dangerous to piss her off. You felt the dark, didn’t you sweet little Willow? You were standing there staring at him and you wanted to show him. Only he almost saw… so you had to start being a good girl again, quick – before he really caught on. But when he left… you knew no one else could see. But Tara did. You didn’t expect that. You tried to make her all blind again. Wanted to have your cake and… ” The vampire gave the young blonde a leer. “And eat it too.”

“She said she loved Oz, but then I noticed her.” Xander said quietly. He laid a hand on Willow’s shoulder. “Finally, I was seeing her the way she wanted to be seen. She could have walked away, but she didn’t. It was about power then, too. She was toying with it like she always does. Lost between one monster and another.”

One by one, the child, Oz, Vampire Willow, Xander and the beast faded away. The lights lowered until there was only Willow and Tara - and near them the oak tree glowing softly with a strange blue light.


Title: Legends of the Kiss part 5b
Feedback: - To err is human, to give feedback is divine.

Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com

Distribution: Just let me know.

Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.

Rating: PG…for now. There will be at least an 'R' part toward the end, which I have to tell you I am already blushing about writing.

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.

Dedication: I truly want to thank Kieli and Amanda for their tireless work and assistance. Also thank you RJ for your constant encouragement and faith.

Legends of the Kiss
(Part 5b)
By Mariacomet


The blonde vampire was pretty sure that this was a life or death situation. At least in so far as one that is already dead can have such a situation. How had Dawn managed to talk him into this, Spike asked himself. One word was all he would have had to say…one word, one syllable. No. N.O. She was a nuisance was what she was. It wasn’t his job to baby-sit her or play cupid for her or anything else. After this, he was done. He’d wash his hands of all teenagers. No matter how bloody brilliant they could be… or who their sister was.

Several demons were gathered outside of Earl’s waiting room. The whole place had once been a gas station on the outskirts of town. The waiting area was in reality an old garage, and still smelled of gasoline. Spike scanned the riff raff and decided that none of them would give him any real trouble. He took it upon himself to barge through the side door into Earl’s office.

A three-horned demon whirled toward the doorway and growled at Spike. The vampire grabbed it by the front of its grey and white striped jacket and shoved it out the door. “Sorry. Heard my number called.” Spike commented then shut and locked the door.

“Mr. Bloody… what… now you really are taking one too many liberties!” Earl cried out in dismay, his small ears, sitting majestically on the top of his head, raised straight up. Earl was a two bit hustler who had a much more successful business on the side as an interpreter of ancient texts. His real skill though was mimicking the written word: documents, letters, prophesies - anything that could be done by the human hand. If he could get a sample of writing, he could adapt both to the style and script of the writer. Since he dealt with such falsities all the time, Spike had figured it wouldn’t be a stretch for Earl to make one up from scratch and make it sound good.

The forger looked a bit like a collie, with a shaggy mane of dark to light brown hair, and an elongated snout that seemed to be constantly sniffing. The other thing about Earl was that he always wore sweater vests. He thought they made him look trustworthy. Spike grabbed him by the front of such a vest. The vampire’s game face slid into place and he leaned in very close to the smaller demon.

“I’m about to take one more.” Spike growled. “You swindled me.”

Earl’s arm floundered behind him and his hand closed on a pair of glasses there. He brought them up, perching them on the end of his long snout. “I’ve never swindled a customer in my life. And even if I did, you know I h-have a strict no refunds policy. Not that you paid anything…”

”That little ditty you gave me, made some close associates of mine go all poof-like.”
The blonde tossed the dog-faced demon against his desk and slowly began stalking toward him. Spike turned over a nearby filing cabinet, seething. “I’ve known you a long time. I thought you were smarter,” He was still walking forward. “Now, I’m gonna have to eat you.”

“Poof-like? Mr. Bloody, please! There’s been some mistake. I did exactly what you wanted.” He tried to straighten but the vampire was crowding his space. “I was quite proud of it, actually.” Bared teeth were a hopeful smile. “Romanticism with that hint of dark mystery. Emily Dickenson meets Edgar Allen Poe.” His fear of Spike rescinded long enough for the forger to grow nostalgic. “Poe - now he was a man after a demon’s heart.”

The immortal grabbed the back of the collie-like head. “You’re going to tell me where they are and how to get them back, you get me?”

“ I… I admit that you not paying is not the usual way that I do business.” Earl stuttered. “But I am a professional.” He managed a haughty tone here, though it disappeared under a glower from his ‘customer.’ Earl straightened his sweater vest. “I don’t know what you mean. I did the legend just like you asked.” He tried to duck away but Spike slammed a hand near his head, holding him in place

The vampire grabbed his nose, effectively ending the commentary. Earl’s ears stood straight up again. “Yeah, you did a right good job, up till the part where two people completely disappeared. Now, if you don’t start giving me answers, I’m going to rip out your entrails and strangle you with them.” He let the forger go, glaring at him menacingly.

“But… But…” He pushed his glasses up higher with a fingertip. “Perhaps if you can t-tell me about these people that disappeared?”

“Witches.” Spike said shortly. “Two of ‘em. Under an oak tree. They and the damn tree took a powder.”

This made Earl pause. “Are you saying t-that this legend was for a pair of witches?”

A second ticked by and in the tradition of how Spike’s evening was going, it took just that long for the door to the office to be kicked in. It shocked Spike that Dawn was standing there. Since when was the nibblet that strong, the vampire wondered.

“Dawn, I took you home. I told you to stay there.” This was the last thing he needed. Or so he thought. Actually the last thing he needed walked through the door after Dawn did – Ms. Buffy Summers herself, looking like she was out to take a life, or an un-life as the case might be. Bloody hell, thought Spike. His eyes weighed Dawn’s somewhat guilty expression against Buffy’s angry one. The little bit had ratted him out. Since when did the nibblet tattle? To be fair, she didn’t look happy about it, but he’d have never turned on her. Well – never unless it would have REALLY benefited him. He almost felt a little hurt. Alright, fine. He had a million things he could tell Buffy about her. Not that the slayer seemed particular interested in listening to anything from the likes of him at the moment.

“Well hello, Spike. Fancy meeting you here.” She set her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing. Her tone was flat, and Spike just barely held back a wince. He was in big trouble.

“Alright, before you start…”

Her fist launched itself toward the target of his jaw and made sudden, precise contact. “Too late.” She growled.

The vampire took the blow and felt himself slam into a wall. He rubbed his jaw, and advanced toward Buffy, his own gaze simmering. It had been awhile since they had been intimate, but the energy was still ripe between them. If this was the way she wanted things, then he would oblige. He was done being her punching dummy. “Still like it rough, eh luv? You forget, I like to be the one that leads when we dance.”

“Guys!” Dawn interrupted stepping between them. “Big picture here, okay?” The teenager looked between the vampire and her sister. “Willow and Tara?”

Spike dabbed his fist at his mouth and checked for blood. There was none. Damn, if she had cut him, he could have had a nip of blood. It would have been the only good thing to come from this night. “I told you NOT to tell her.” He grumbled to Dawn.

“I did this.” Dawn gritted out. “I had to make it right.” She raised her eyes, her countenance burning with strength. “This is what Buffy does.”

The immortal in the black overcoat felt himself unwillingly soften. “You should have trusted me.” He answered quietly.

“Not trusting you is the first shred of common sense she showed in this entire thing.” Buffy shot back.

Alright, Spike decided, that was pushing things way too far. “Well listen to Saint Buffy. I might not always do the white, bright thing but I’m always there when she needs me. Can you say that?”

His words hurt. They always seem to stab far too deeply. He had this knack of finding her vulnerabilities. An image filled her head of him rolling atop her and she shuddered, though from revulsion or desire, she couldn’t be sure. “Spike, I don’t have time to call you all the names I want to call you right now. We’ll do a rain check.” The Slayer spun toward the Collie then. “You - where are my friends and how do we get them back?”

The forger turned away, running his hand through the coat of his mane. “Oh dear.” His black nose crinkled and he gave a shake of his head. “The slayer’s friends? I-I thought this had something to do with you and her.” He motioned between Buffy and Spike.

“Me and her?” The vampire didn’t like the sound of that.

“The um… well… courtship.” Earl said gingerly. Being stuck between a Slayer and a vampire was not the ideal place to be.

“Courtship?” Buffy railed. “There’s no ship. No shipping. None.” Her look was an extreme order for the vampire to back her up.

Spike didn’t take orders. Instead he reached in his jacket and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. “Someone’s been talking about us?”

“You could say that.” The dog-faced demon gave half a smile and gestured outside. “Not that I would ever do anything so vulgar but I have a-a friend that put down a hundred kitten bet that within 90 days you’ll sleep with her, then betray and kill her. It was 5 to 1 odds.”

That news was mortifying and Buffy paled. She looked at the forger for several moments, her mouth opening and closing like a caught trout breathing for air. “People are betting on us…I mean, on he and I?” Earl gave a helpless little shrug.

Spike wasn’t quite sure how to feel. He liked the idea that people were betting FOR him to kill the slayer. Apparently not everyone thought he’d lost his edge. “One of the sharks handling it?”

“Right.” The forger noted. It was in his best interest to be as helpful as possible. “The little shop downtown, you know the one?”

The Slayer grabbed the cigarette from Spike’s mouth and tossed it to the ground. “What are the odds on the Slayer staking him in the next, say, 60 seconds?” Buffy wanted to know.

Spike eyed her. “Same odds that you’ll get yourself bit trying.”

Frustration had been building in the teenager. Buffy and Spike seemed to only have eyes for one another. It was the way it always seemed to be. Buffy, anywhere but here, thinking about anything except what was going on. “Shut up.” She yelled at both of them.
“Can you both get over yourselves for five seconds? You want to know who’s been there for me? Tara.” At this, Buffy looked like she’d been slapped. Spike shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He started to say something but she wouldn’t let him. “She’s the only one that doesn’t make me feel like I’m baggage.”

“Dawn, I…” Buffy began.

Again, the teen was having none of it. She didn’t want to hear anything from Spike or Buffy at the moment. “The only time I feel totally safe is when she’s around. When she is…it’s like before mom died. I won’t let either of you take that away from me.” She was talking so fast that she had barely had time to catch a breath. She did now. “We have to get Willow and Tara back.”

Earl was a renaissance man and was smart enough to recognize Dawn’s words as a definitive change of topic. He focused his attention on the girl, sniffing at her, sensing how deep her distress was. Guilt, fear…and a well of sadness that was so deep it almost made him lose his concentration. “Willow and Tara… they’re the two witches?” Dawn nodded. The forger scratched behind one ear while considering the question. “They know it’s a forgery right? That the legend isn’t real?” The vampire gave him a long look, his eye squinting slightly in a grimace. Dawn, likewise, covered her face with one hand.

Dawn’s sister noticed her distress and quietly asked the next question. “What if they don’t know?”

Earl turned to Spike, eyes wide and a slight whimper escaping him. “You had me make up a legend for two witches during the Winter solstice a-and one or both of them might believe? Well no wonder strange things are happening. Look, I’m sorry. Whatever happens now, it’s out of my hands.”

Dawn shook her head feverently, trying to deny and understand the words all at once. “What do you mean whatever happens now? What’s going to happen?”

“There’s no way for me to know.” Earl answered helplessly. His agitation had increased dramatically and was panting, his tongue hanging slightly out of one side of his mouth. Earl’s chest puffed out with all the dignity he could muster. “Mr. Bloody, Ms. Slayer, Little person, I am a professional. I am very loyal to my customers.” He took a moment to catch his breath and calm down. “If I could help, even though per the standard contract, I claim no responsibility for the side effects of one of my creations - I would. But, like all matters of faith, what happens in a Legend is strictly up to the interpretation of the people involved.”

“Are you saying you don’t know where they are?” The Slayer asked. Dawn was right. Behaving selfishly seemed to be something she was excelling at lately. She hand’t viewed any of this seriously. Not until now. Her own question made her heart sink. She couldn’t even allow herself to attach Willow and Tara’s faces to such an idea.

“There’s no way I could. No way you could. There no are limitations to the possible doors that can be opened with faith.” He frowned and glanced longingly at his desk, which was just a few steps away but since Spike and Buffy were blocking his path, it may as well have been a hundred miles. “That was…” He tried smiling at them. “I really should write that one down.”

Buffy moved closer to business-demon, her mouth set in a thin line. “Dawn told me all about your writing. Something about tears and drowning.”

The Collie blinked at them a few times and licked his chops. “Um, well, all legends have equal mixes of dark and light to them. I just…ran with it.”

“What exactly does that mean?” The Slayer asked, the quicksandy feeling she’d had earlier was beginning to grow.

"These two witches are in love? But something separated them?” He looked to the young girl, who nodded slowly. Earl lowered his head, struggling with words. Spike knew this to be a bad sign. If there was one thing Earl could do, it was talk. “One guess might be - whatever they believe they deserve deep down is what they’ll receive. This all depends on where they take the Legend and what they do when they get there. On a night like this where innate magic and belief come into play, the consequences would be the most extreme possible. I did, per request, specifically put in that bit about eternity.”

The Slayer shook her head to clear it. She wanted this all simplified. She was better with small concepts like – there, demon. Buffy kill demon. This psychoanalytic stuff was more in Giles’s backyard or maybe Willow’s. “Are you telling me that because of some pseudo-legend, my friends might be cursed to lifetimes of misery?”

Earl’s ears twitched. “Well, that’d be one way to put it. Or…extreme happiness”

“It’s just a book.” Buffy reasoned, angrily.

The forger removed his glasses, his brow furrowed. “You don’t believe that words have the power to change things? Poetry is just words. Shakespeare. The Bible. Martin Luther King - what he gave is mostly words.”

“Suddenly, I’m back in High School English.” The Slayer sighed. “Look, just reverse this Legend or dispel it or whatever. We’ll call it a day.”

“Ms. Slayer, that’s what I’m trying to tell you; I can’t.” Earl insisted.

“That’s not true.” The teenager fumed – furious at herself – furious at all of them. “That can’t be true. Buffy, he’s lying.” Buffy didn’t think he was, and she lightly laid a hand on her sister’s back.

Earl swallowed nervously. “Look, people chatter on every day. Half the time they’re not paying attention to what they say, and most of the rest of the time, not listening to what anyone else says, either. Not really, anyway. Then someone comes along who embraces the idea behind a word. A person brave enough not to abandon what that word really means. Not to compromise it. The right person, the right time, holding fast to the right idea. This is a far more random and powerful thing then I could ever be capable of creating or… reversing. “

The Slayer was in earnest now. “HOW do we get them back?”

Earl shook his head. He blinked at them almost sadly. “Eventually they should return on their own. They were the ones that decided to believe. There’s no stopping that. All you can do is wait. And if the worst happens, you can try and be there for them. They’ll need you.”

Spike had been there to see Buffy’s face just after Giles left. This look was similar. So lost. “Buffy…”

“Shut up Spike.” Buffy snapped. Her jaw clenched as she stared daggers into him. “Stay away from me. And stay away from my sister.”

“Buffy, it was my idea.” Dawn insisted.

She was still glaring at the vampire. “You know, it’s enough that you torment me – But Tara and Willow – they never hurt anyone. They’re the first to see the good in people. Even in you. And if what you did makes either of them suffer anymore than they already have living on this damn Hellmouth, I swear to God, I will hunt you down like a dog.”

He faltered a moment. “Oh yeah, because you, Red and the nibblet are so damned happy anyway. You have oh-so-much to lose.” He took a step forward. “You don’t know who the hell you are, much less being able to help anyone else figure it out.” Spike tilted his chin up just slightly. “Dawn’s determined to put her finger in every pie she can till she finds whatever she thinks she needs. And let’s not even talk about Red. You’re all walking about in circles and it makes me sick to watch it. So, yeah, I decided if Red’s ex can help any of you catch a clue, I’m all for it.” Spike took another step forward. “You’re gonna lose little sis if something doesn’t change, Slayer. One way or the other.”

Buffy struggled to meet his gaze. Meet it and not break down into tears. The vampire turned away and walked out through the busted door. Buffy stared after him till Dawn lightly touched her hand.

“It’ll be alright, won’t it?” Dawn asked. “Willow and Tara, they’ll be okay, right?”

Buffy was remembering what it was like to have heaven and lose it. Losing love… could it be that powerful? When Angel left, she remembered pain, but it was so distant now. It was like trying to remember a dream, just as it was with most of her deeper emotions. Had it been like losing heaven? She wondered if Willow or Tara might now be consigned to feel the kind of agony. If they did, how would they be able to stand it? And how, when she was still felt lost, could she be of any real help?


Title: Legends of the Kiss part 6a
Feedback: - *puppy dog eyes* Please?
Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com

Distribution: Just let me know.
Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.

Rating: PG·for now. There will be at least an 'R' part toward the end, which I have to tell you I am already blushing about writing.

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.


Legends of the Kiss
(Part 6a)
By Mariacomet

The tree continued to glow and a blue circle rose around them again. Nearby a marker of stone appeared. It was a simple gray shape that rose from the ground. No, not a marker, realized Willow, a headstone. One that was familiar.

Willow’s eyes ran over the name etched deep in the gray marble - “Buffy Summers” - again and again. Tara inhaled sharply as she too recognized the grave. I didn’t mean for you to do this, darling, Tara thought frantically. I didn’t want you to ever have to come back here. Tara was holding the book to her and she suddenly wanted to destroy it, to do whatever it took to get Willow away from here. But the fire was gone now.

Buffy Summers was suddenly with them, dressed in a black turtleneck, and a long dark overcoat. She carried two white roses in her hand. Buffy walked forward until she stood directly before the grave. She bent down, leaning one rose against the gravesite reverently.

“Buffy.” Willow called. Hope ran over her. Her friend always found a way to save her, to save them… always.

The slayer didn’t seem to hear. She started to walk away, then stopped. She turned to Willow and offered her the second rose. Buffy’s expression was as blank as Xander’s had been.

The redhead’s fingertips closed around the stem, playing it between her fingertips. Was it possible for someone to cry too much, so much that their heart burst from the ripping of tears being forced out? Feeling the heat in her eyes, she took the rose.

“This is what you wanted.” Buffy said quietly.

“What…?”

A nod toward the grave from the slayer. “This is what you wanted.”

The words may as well have been fired from a gun. They burned hot and hideous in her ears. She shook her head wildly. “No… no, I never…”

Tara was equally as agitated by the words, and the deflated slouch of the woman she loved. “That’s not true.”

“You wanted to be me.” Buffy continued simply, concentrating on the hacker. Her eyes caught those of her friend and would not let go. “When I was gone, you got to play my part.”

Guilt and revulsion bled from Willow’s usually sharp, cheerful eyes. Her expression flattened as she tried to push what Buffy had said away from herself. Analyzing it, factoring it – sure she could come up with a way it wasn’t true. Couldn’t be true. Couldn’t be true! She hadn’t wanted to be the boss. She had simply accepted it. Wasn’t that true? Yet she had felt oddly comfortable in the role and it was true that… that she had taken some pleasure in it. But no… she loved Buffy. Buffy was her best friend.

“How can you… I l-loved you so much. I wasn’t sure where you’d gone. When you died it was like… this hole kept growing and growing inside me. I couldn’t make it go away. Nothing felt right.” It was too much, too much pain ripped from her and scattered on the ground like jacks. Willow’s eyes were deadened, the price for her demons being torn from her one by one. Her heart felt like it had been crushed, then expanded only to be crushed again. The rush of memories was too much. The thoughts didn’t stay long and if each one had paused longer than a moment, she was sure it would have broken her irrevocably. They stayed long enough, showing her over and over who she really was. A parade of her own words and thoughts tossed back at her. Willow fought the revelation, certain that she might go mad if she didn’t. It was getting difficult to talk. It was hard to stand, and not crumble. “I-I c-chose the spot… where you were buried.” She choked out the words. “It w-was under a willow tree, because… because I wanted to f-f-feel some p-part of me would always be watching over you.”

The Slayer looked back to the grave. She leaned closer to her longtime friend. “You wanted to be me. Ever since you met me, you wanted what I had. My beauty, my confidence. My… power.” Buffy’s brows raised in a silent dare for Willow to deny any of what had been said. “When I died, they all turned to you. You were glad I was gone. No more sidekick. It was all you.”

Willow’s face was alive with hate for the words. “I… I brought you back.” She insisted.

“I saved you so many times.” Buffy stated matter of factly. “This time,” She shrugged slightly, “you wanted to play the hero. You wanted me to thank you.”

Tara stepped between them, facing up to the leader of the Scoobies. She stood before Willow protectively. “This isn’t fair. People think and feel all kinds of things when someone they love dies. When we grieve we run through extremes.” The words were as much for her ex-lover’s benefit as for Buffy’s. “It’s normal and you can’t hold someone accountable for that.”

Buffy nodded. “But I’m not.” It was odd, but Tara believed her. It made sense. This was all Willow-world. When the Slayer had died, Willow, for once, hadn’t denied the role of importance thrust upon her. She had bore the mantel quietly, with such seriousness and dedication that at times it had worried Tara. This, worries me too… Willow looks like someone who believes they deserve to be punished.

“I thought horrible things when my mother died.” The blonde witch soothed. “I’ve told you, Willow… you know…”

“She wants you to hear.” The Slayer reminded and nodded to the book in Tara’s hands. “This is what she wanted.”

“It’s too much.” Tara whispered, her chin quivering slightly as she clutched the book harder to her chest.

“It’s everything.” Buffy replied. Sobbing – the far away cried of a child in pain - started but this time it seemed to rise up from the very ground. Dawn’s older sister looked to Willow. ”Eventually you knew you’d take the big fall, didn’t you? See, you want the role of the hero but deep down, you know that you can’t handle it.” The tiniest of smiles, brushed the corners of Buffy’s mouth upward. “You’re not me.”

The rose in Willow’s hand shifted into a dagger and she found her hands covered in blood. A fawn lay dead at her feet, its innocent face frozen in death. It’s body limp and bloody. Willow began to shake violently and dropped the dagger. She felt herself collapse to her knees. Tara moved forward instantly, trying to go to her, but Willow scrambled back toward the headstone at her approach.

“Willow,” The blonde called softly.

“Don’t.” Willow said. “I can’t…” I can’t let you touch me right now. Not now. It would be a lie, wouldn’t it, if you touched me? If you reassured me? I can’t… I can’t let myself hope. Tara nodded at the request. She bent down by the deer, touching its head lightly.

“You did this?” Tara asked in a whisper. Her expression was not horrified, but it was profoundly sad. Another secret. It was an angry thought, but immediately an inner voice defended Willow. She was just trying to protect me. She sighed, her eyes running over the fine, soft coat of the animal before her. Oh, Willow. Something in me always wants to defend you. No matter what you do. You lied to me. Again. Just for a moment, Tara thought of the beast with the green eyes.

“The s-spell called for it, Tara. I h-had to do it, myself.” The other woman replied and leaned her cheek against Buffy’s headstone. “I would have done anything.”

Buffy pursed her lips thoughtfully. “You read that resurrection spell and you were oh so tempted. Not just because of me. To see if you could. You wanted to know. You being all curious cost me heaven.” Willow felt as if she was being stabbed. Over and over with the same dull knife. “You let me down. Like you let yourself down. Like you let everyone down. If you had been better, your parents wouldn’t have ignored you. I wouldn’t have died. Xander would have loved you. Oz wouldn’t have left. Tara… would have stayed.”

“I think you should leave now.” Tara said, rising. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared down the figment of Buffy.

The one that had saved the world; a lot, as the others had stated it, took the words with a blink, then pivoted, almost in military style. “Your call, Willow.” Willow didn’t answer but Buffy nodded as if in answer to a statement. “You lost this.” The Slayer said and turned to Tara. A book had sprung from nowhere and was now in Buffy’s hands. Tara recognized the heavy volume but she didn’t understand its significance here and now. It was ‘The History of Witchcraft.’

“Dawn had questions.” Buffy said. The black turtleneck and overcoat were gone in their place was suddenly a long blue gown. It was a simple dress, but framed the Slayer elegantly. The silk fabric hung loosely from her, spaghetti straps holding it in place. “Because they put her in the ground.” The gaze that Buffy gave Tara was ironic. “But you don’t mess with life and death.”

Tara knew what Buffy was suggesting then, but she wouldn’t allow herself to make a correlation between the spell that Dawn had cast and Willow. She refused to accept that her lover could have had any hand in that. She looked back and forth between the slayer and her ex-girlfriend as if they were playing some sort of sadistic tennis match.

The redhead knew where this was going. It flooded over her, and she knew she should feel guilty. Deep down, she did feel guilty. Yet devils were dancing all around her in this place and she couldn’t summon the heart to be more ashamed. Still, Willow had regretted it. The emotion weakened the shape of her face in an unspoken admission. “I wanted to help… I was… was desperate to help.”

“You helped Dawn…” Tara tried to sort that idea out in her mind. Willow wouldn’t, she argued with herself.

The hacker was a child again, bearing the scrutiny of someone else she loved that disapproved of her. “I just… I just helped her find the book.”

“But…” Denial fled and Tara’s jaw clenched. Anger and revulsion were having their way with her, running through her veins, icy and gleeful. “I told you… you knew it was dangerous.”

“It thought it was just history. Just…”

“You lied to me.” Tara tried to rein herself in. It was the past. She would not cry. She would not cry. She would not cry. “Dawn could have…” Too many possibilities rained into her mind, all of them dark and twisting, with jaws that ate little girls who had just lost their mother. Willow had known what Tara thought, known her objections. But… but, she calmed herself. The book had been out in plain sight; Dawn might have found it on her own. It wasn’t like the young woman had needed more excuses to go looking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Everything was blank inside Willow – empty – and it dulled the light in sea green eyes. Please, I don’t think I can take much more. Make it stop. Soon. Only one thread of strength was holding her firm. Words that repeated in her head like a mantra. For Tara. For Tara. For Tara.

“It just happened.” Willow tried to explain. “I knew how you felt… about her. The thought of what she might use the book for, it was huge. I didn’t mean it – I didn’t mean for her to cast any spells. If something had happened, I was sure that you’d never…” Her mind kept bumping into that word, unable to get past it. Never. Never wasn’t something that should ever happen with her and Tara. Tara and she had been….always, possible, probably… definitely. “Never f-forgive me.”

It would have been an accident, Tara reasoned with herself, and it was a long time ago.

Buffy bent down and took a black crystal from the ground. “Tabula Rasa.” She murmured. A distinct sound filled the air, a crunching, like a shoe moving over gravel. The trio were suddenly in a dark, dank sewer looking at a moment in the past, frozen. The picture was 3-d, save the lack of motion. Tara was standing, staring down at Willow, heartbroken – betrayed. The statue of Willow was equally as shattered, knowing she had been found out, wanting words… but knowing there were none.

“How long did you last without magic, Willow?” Buffy asked. “A few hours? No, not even that. You were planning this in your heart even while she told you she was thinking about leaving you. You were promising that you could go a month without magic and already thinking about your next spell. Weren’t you?”

The real Willow was still leaning on the grave, but she managed to rise to her feet now. Everything felt like dust inside her, and she wanted to fade into it. Part of her felt as if she already had. Another part of her held on, held herself here and accountable. For Tara, Willow reminded herself. You’re going to have to stand there and deal, Will. This was your idea and it was your doing, all of it. Stand there and take it, because Tara deserves more than a coward. “Yes,” Willow answered, quietly.

Tara hadn’t known. She had never allowed herself to ask that question. Even while she was telling Willow she was going to leave…. even then… Willow was planning to use the spell? Xander’s earlier words came back to Tara. ‘It was about power then, too. She was toying with it like she always does. Lost between one monster and another.’

The scene they were watching changed. The presentation was now the two lovers, lying atop one another, their lips just a breath apart. They had barely remembered who they were, and yet they couldn’t help being drawn together. The image of Tara was reaching upward, caressing Willow’s cheek. It was an etching of a moment where, beyond reason, they knew they belonged together. Staring at that visage, both witches looked from the scene to one another. It was a fleeting glance. Questions that couldn’t be answered – at least not now, not yet – were shadowed in their eyes.

The sound of a crystal breaking intervened and the specters of themselves changed until the Tara of the past was once again looking at the woman she loved, the one that had betrayed her, realizing that leaving was the only thing left for her to do.

With no fanfare, the pictures of the past faded away, then so did Buffy, and finally the grave. The tree shivered as if a strong wind had blown through it. The blue light dimmed. Suddenly above them was the night sky, and before them was the expanse of the park. They were home.

Title: Legends of the Kiss part 6b
Feedback: - I AM a feedback slut. I admit it.

Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com

Distribution: Just let me know.

Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.

Rating: PG•for now. There will be at least an 'R' part toward the end, which I have to tell you I am already blushing about writing.

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.

Legends of the Kiss
Part 6b)
By Mariacomet


Imagine that there is such a thing as dragons. Only they come from deep within each of us and they roam the world unseen, devouring what is best about humanity. Now imagine that there are those that arm themselves with the only weapons that destroy the beasts; love and faith, shield and sword, respectively. These souls stand as warriors and they are all the first line standing between what we could become and us. And most of us never even thank them. To acknowledge the warriors is to acknowledge the dragons, and to acknowledge the dragons is to face a choice.

There was nothing to say. Tara knew it, that worlds were as ineffectual as stones flung at a giant wall. The road that had brought them here was huge and unyielding and it stretched on beyond now…but now seemed immobile. They both were frozen. The enormity of what they had just shared filled their minds, and words were caveman’s tools compared to that. A compass of syllables could not measure the depth of the pain. Even if it could, the needle would point in all directions. Neither of them knew where to go from here, or what it all meant.

The gap still existed between them, made closer by sacrifice, but a gap nonetheless.

“Did it matter?” Willow finally found the strength to ask. Tara looked to her, her heart fluttered, quivering like a scared rabbit under a brush. “What I did.”

“It matters.” Tara said simply. “How can it not?

“No, I was….” Her words were fragmented; they stuck in her throat before stumbling forward. “Did it help you? Did it help you to see all that?”

The answering nod was brief. “It helps to know…t-that you love me. Yes…I needed to know. I needed to know that so much, Willow.”

It occurred to Willow to ask if it had made a change in other things, if Tara could believe now. She wanted to ask. But that wasn’t what this had been about. It had been a gift and gifts were things that required no answer. The hacker held back what she considered to be her more selfish emotions. For Tara.

She had been laid bare, beyond the masks we all paint for one another. Tara had been allowed inside the dark creepy places. She could not tell how Tara felt about all those things or about her. She didn’t trust herself to read the other woman’s emotions accurately. It amazed her that she wasn’t on the verge of falling apart. Instead, she felt settled, and strong. It made no sense. She had just handed over all the pain, the unembroidered fabric of who she was. How could she not be a shell? Why this overwhelming sense of relief?

Well, Willow thought, Tara hadn’t running screaming from the park. But people didn’t do that, did they? No, their rejection was usually subtle, coming in bit by bit…and THEN bursting forward like a storm.

“I lied to you.” The redhead said. It was a reminder and an admission. Tara deflated, her eyes darting away.

Tara’s thoughts were constantly shifting , first, in awe if what Willow had done, then recoiling as if burned. Even while I was….while she knew my heart was breaking, she was planning to use the spell. The matter with Dawn she could explain away, but Willow had been thinking of controlling Tara even when she was tearing herself apart trying to find a way to make it work between them. How could she, Tara asked herself. The knowledge opened old wounds and pulled them wide.

Give her a break, Tara girl, an inner voice murmured, especially after what she just did. What she gave. Before, it was the addiction, not Willow. The addiction.

Yes! The addiction she still has. The one that she will always have. And was it the problem with magic that made her lie to me about Dawn? All of her demons are still there, still pushing and pulling at her.

Enough. She forced herself to look into the face of the woman she loved. She must be terrified. I have to say something, to make sure she knows that I’m…that I still cherish what I see in her.

Willow saw the conflict in Tara and it made her frown. She hadn’t intended to force a decision on her ex-lover. To help her believe, yes. To show her how much she was willing give, yes, but not to force. “Are you okay?” The words were soft as wind, reaching out, reaching gently.

“No.”

The redhead hadn’t really expected that answer. Wasn’t there some universal rule where when you asked someone if they were okay they had to answer that they were fine? “Oh.”

“My heart still breaks when yours does.” The other witch answered simply. She searched her ex-lover’s gaze, seeking a place where she could look into soft green eyes and admit how much everything about Willow still effected her. “You showed me every pain, every secret, all the darkness that you are sure that no one can stand to look at.” Tara’s voice was unsteady but she pressed on. “Do you know how much strength that took?”

“Wait.” The command was tender but firm. “I know there’s a but in there somewhere and I can’t hear it right now.” Her words weren’t coming out right and it was nerve-racking. “That sounded bitter. I’m not bitter. I’m just…okay maybe I am a bit bitter. I mean, YES, I have screwed up, and I can be a jerk sometimes – but on the plus side, you know, helped saved the world a couple times. I just want you to know that deep down, I don’t totally think I’m ‘crazy-icky- beast-lady.’ ’“

The way the words shoved themselves forward struck an odd chord in both women. Tara couldn’t help but laugh. She had needed the release for longer than she thought possible, and it was like a blessing. After a moment, Willow fell into the laughter as well, allowing it to warm her. The moment was short lived, but it served as balm to two tortured spirits. It was nice to laugh together again.

The blonde wanted to reach out and take Willow’s hand, but the usual hesitation – even after all she’d seen it hadn’t been defeated – stopped her. Instead, she let her smile linger and fill with unrestrained pride. “You are a warrior, Willow. “ Tara said finally after the mirth had passed them by. ”You always have been. With magic or without it.” And through Tara’s eyes something in Willow finally recognized the possibility that the words were true. It was a gift in answer to her gift, one that Willow hadn’t intended to receive. She almost smiled. It was in Tara’s nature to give. She should have known that her love would find some way to give back.

Tara folded her hands before her, helplessly, knowing that the next words had to come. Willow deserved the truth, especially now. “I still love you. Please believe that. I will always love you.” Sorrow made the lines of her face seem softer. Her alabaster throat worked, bobbing convulsively as she fought to speak. “But there is nothing I can do to diminish the past’s hold on you. And I don’t know if loving someone is enough.” Her small shoulders lifted and fell as the threat of tears came. “I had made the decision to let you go. I was at peace with that. At least, I think I could have been in time.” Her hand went to the flat of her stomach, as if it was suddenly paining her and she was trying to keep it in check. “I…I love you. I just…I just don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want to feel like I am living again.” She shook her head and tears rolled slowly over her cheeks, unchecked. “I don’t know what to do, Willow.”

Wisdom is a strange thing and it touches the mind in odd and infrequent moments. To watch Tara was to see love, to actually see the word come to life. Willow had borne the weight of the Legend well. Together, they had quested and faced dragons, but she still faced one test.

Some heroes live quiet lives. Their victories are simple and do not shatter the world. Sometimes it’s enough to be brave enough to ask a question or to take a proffered hand. The difference between those that achieve a lifetime and those that falter in the aspect of tomorrow can be measured by a simple refusal to compromise. One star, followed with endless hope can create magic. Willow’s star was Tara. It was why she had risked everything. The pursuit of truly, honestly loving Tara was the one thing in this life she was trying to get right. She had sometimes failed her friends in her selfishness. She hadn’t always been honest or supportive or strong. Even as witch, in the height or her power, somehow something had always gone wrong.

But loving Tara… Just this once, let me get it right.

“I know.” Willow said gently. “I have to go.” The words made Tara jerk up her head. “The Legend.” It was an explanation but not a total one, so she took a deep breath, letting her eyes be filled with the vision of her lover before going on. “What I did, it wasn’t for me. It wasn’t for us. It was for you. If I stay, I’ll want to use it to convince you or to try and change your mind.” She shook her head at herself. “That’s not what I want.” Fear had kept a cadence between them for months, but Willow could barely hear it playing now. She lifted her hand and skimmed it over the softness of Tara’s cheek. Touching Tara made her heart burn, just as it always had. It was like a storm banging against shutters. Willow brushed the pad of her thumb to the lips of the woman she loved, and then drew back. “Do what will make you happy.”

The hacker tore herself away, moving in quick small strides. She stopped, not able to summon the final thread of courage to look back at Tara. “I’ll be at our bridge at midnight. I still believe, Tara. I want you in every way. And I want to be with you. Completely. If you come to meet me, I want you to feel the same way.”

Tara brushed away her tears and nodded, but Willow had moved away again and didn’t see.


Legends of the Kiss
Part 7a
By Mariacomet

Grace is like a field of white flowers. We tend the flowers inside ourselves, giving each one away carefully. Grace is where we rise about our instincts and defy simple logic. For it to be grace it must first be offered to someone undeserving - by whatever measurement we humans can define such a thing. The humble heart knows that this includes us all. The more analytical mind wonders if we are not all annexed from this idea, since the merit of a human being is beyond any true foolproof means of measurement. Still, grace is the center around which all humanity thrives. It is what sets us apart. It is the beginning of love and the end of hate.

The strong in history have been the protectors and the hunters. In modern times, as in old, we look to the gladiators, the ones that do battle in open spectacle. The field of conquest can be anywhere; a board room, a football field, a construction yard. Yet in all this, elephants, ants, pigs have such strength of the mind, heart and will. But none of these can offer forgiveness. They cannot reach out a hand to one that has wronged them. This aged, wondrous planet teaches that strength can come in many shapes and sizes. We do have much to learn from the world, but also it has something to learn from us. We have flowers that can only be found inside humanity. The simple girl with a basket, standing on a busy street corner handing out lilies maybe the strongest among us all.

Fragments made up Tara’s world. Images of an outgoing redhead nervously taking her hand, playing with her fingertips. Soft cherub lips lifting slowly, scaring away her doubts, the tenderness of that smile making her entire body hum in pleasure. Emerald eyes sparking with happy, awe as they both bent forward at the same time, and shared their first kiss. She and Willow cuddling close and trying not to laugh too loud in the middle of the night, while outside it rained and rained. Touches on her shoulder, her face, running everywhere, fluid and sensuous like warm water. Willow knew everything about her. How to make her laugh when she was sad. How to make her sigh in happiness with a few words or a small gift. How to make her burn. Heavens. She knew exactly where to touch and what to say to make her turn into pure flame.

Inside her ex-lover was a hell Tara had only guessed at. She knew that Willow had felt like an outsider in high school. Outsider wasn’t the right word though, was it? It wasn’t even close to encompassing the sadness, the loneliness…the hopelessness Willow had felt. There was more, the pain of her childhood had created darkness inside Tara’s ex-girlfriend. Rage and arrogance. Fear had been raised from a seedling and now spread its tendrils all through Willow, making her doubt herself and her worth. Of course, the fear had eventually spread into the magic as well. Like many things, casting spells would eventually become a reflection of what was inside the caster.

Tick-Tock, Tara.

Her eyes jumped to the clock. 9:45.

Tick, tick, tick.

She needed to find peace, just a for a bit. How could she think when everything was twisting inside her head, inside her heart, like some strange Ferris wheel? She moved toward her bureau and lit a candle.

Extra Flamey.

Tick-tock, Tara.

You deserve someone who’s willing to do anything for you. I want to be that person.

Tara pulled a pillow into her arms and hugged it, trying to relieve the pressure in her chest, to soothe the flood of feelings that kept rising, falling, then rising again. She felt lost. For one of the first and only times in her life, she truly didn’t know what to do. Her instincts were failing her. Her heart was too close to what was happening for her to have any real insight. Despite all that Willow had given tonight, she still had so many doubts. She felt guilt. She felt Willow’s sacrifice should have been enough. That was the way it worked in movies and stories; one grand act, and then the happy ending. It should be enough. Yet it hadn’t slayed her fears. It had made them deeper. The other truth was that what Willow had done had made her feel proud. All that Tara had seen, no matter how disturbing it had been, had made her love Willow more. The battle-lines were more intense within her. Both sides were dug in deep, dividing her in half.

I just need a minute, she told herself, I just need a minute and then I’ll…

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Tara had once told Willow that if she was feeling lost and alone, there was only one place she would go – to Willow. Her feet carried her. Her heart beat. Her eyes took in the usual sites on the walks across campus. But she was lost. Only now, she couldn’t go to Willow.
She tried to force those thoughts from her mind. Everything in her head was still going too fast. She couldn’t keep up.

I lied to you.

Her heart churned, showing her fear, reminding her of the hope and promise of love. STOP, Tara told herself.

A memory of arms coming around from behind, Willow nuzzling her neck. Then words from another time sounding in her mind.

I need you. I don't need magic. I don't. Let me prove it to you, okay? I'll go a month without using magic. I won't do a single spell, I swear.

The light on her answering machine provided the necessary distraction.

She played her messages, expecting it to be Dawn or Anya. Buffy’s voice surprised her. Yes, they saw one another every Sunday, and they had talked quite a bit over the last few months, but the Slayer didn’t usually call her.

“Tara, it’s me. Look, we’re all worried about you and Willow. Give me a call when you get this. “ Beeeepppp.

The second message played. “Buffy again. That damned tree is back, so you all should be back, right?” It seemed like she paused and was talking to someone else over her shoulder. “I got the machine again.” The Slayer’s voice sounded less muffled and she seemed to go into leaving a message mode again. “I’m having this double whammy of Slayer Worry. PLEASE call me when you get this.”

Tree? How did Buffy know about the tree, Tara asked herself. Had Wilow told Buffy what she was planning? But surely Willow didn’t expect the tree to disappear? She frowned. No, she didn’t believe that. Her ex-lover had seemed as surprised by what had happened as she was.

BEEEEEEEEEEPP. It moved on to the next message. Buffy, again. This consisted on one word. “Dammit!” Click.

At the Summer’s home, Xander had literally been on the edge of his seat for almost thirty minutes. Buffy had likewise been pacing, and her very sullen teenager sister had been unable to keep glancing at the clock constantly. Anya’s way of dealing with the situation was to try cooking, which she had seen be helpful on some occasions. She was on her third attempt at Spaghetti. It was comfort food, she insisted. When a familiar redhead walked in the door, she was bombarded by her friends, all moving to embrace her and demand answers from her at the same time.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t take you over my knee right now.” Buffy said, her voice a mix of worry and stern anger.

Willow was still in semi-shock from the greeting. “Um…Xander might take pictures if you did?”

Xander smirked ever so slightly. “Actually I’m more a video man.” Then noting that Anya had ducked in the room, he arranged his features into an irritated expression. “I mean…hey!”

“Are you okay?” Buffy asked.

“Well yeah…it’s been a really weird night to say the least and I’m suddenly thinking that I need intense therapy – and there’s the whole stroke of midnight Cinderella fear to deal with, which if Amy was still a rat might be interesting – cause according to Disney animation rats can sew a really spiffy gown. Other than that, I’m…I may faint, actually.” Buffy slide an arm around her shoulders and guided her to the couch, helping her slowly sit down. Buffy sat on one side of her friend, and Xander moved to the other side, taking her hand.

Dawn had been watching the scene from a distance, not quite able to face Willow, but sneaking looks, her arms crossed tightly over her middle.

“I made spaghetti.” Anya said with a flourish.

“Where’s Tara?” Buffy asked gently.

The hacker shook her head, and her face twisted into an expression of grief. “I don’t know.” She said a small voice.

“We’ll get her back, Will. Just start slow. Tell us what happened.” Xander squeezed her hand. He was in comforter mode. Willow slowly looked around at her friends and tears lifted in her eyes. She was home. She was loved here. This was the Xander she had known all of her life, and Buffy who always managed to come through for her in the end. Her friends, who had become her family.

What her male best friend had actually said filtered in much more slowly. “Wait…get her back? She…she is back. And how did you all know that there was any issue of backness anyway?”

All of them save Willow turned to look at Dawn. The Slayer’s features hardened. “Tell her what you did.” Buffy ordered. The teenager glanced up, and drew her body into a smaller target.

“I’m sorry, Willow.” Dawn whispered.

The redhead didn’t understand the look of guilt on the young woman’s face, but if anyone had a right to NOT feel guilty about anything with regards to Willow, it was Dawn. After all, the accident hadn’t been that long ago. Willow was still feeling quite grateful that Dawn had forgiven her. “It’s okay, Dawnie – whatever it is – I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Tell her.” The Slayer repeated again.

Dawn gave her sister a hard look, then took in a deep breath. She began her tale.

A moment or two later the phone rang, and the Slayer rose silently to get it, so that Dawn’s confession wouldn’t be interrupted.

“Buffy?” Came a voice on the other end of the line.

“Tara.” Buffy greeted, her voice betrayed her relief in finally hearing from the other woman.

Tara was silent for most of the rest of the conversation. Buffy took the phone in another room and quietly told Tara everything. She explained that Willow was getting a similar story from Dawn, herself.

“Why would Dawn do this?”

The slayer paused; the cold sting of Dawn’s earlier admission was still present. “You make her feel safe, I think, Tara.” Silence from the other end of the line. “Tara? You okay?”

“Yes.” The Wiccan murmured. She’d been angry at what Dawn had done up until that moment. Now, she couldn’t be. Not at Dawn.

********************************************************************


Spike wasn’t used to having his crypt door knocked on. He didn’t have that many visitors and the one she did have, like Buffy, were more likely to bust the door down or just barge in. He took a long drink from the bottle in his hand and ignored the knocking.

Two hours he’d gone searching for those two Wiccans. He’d seen that the tree had reappeared and then proceeded to look in every nook and cranny he could find between there and the Slayer’s house. The idea had been to find them first and promptly deliver them back to the doorstep of the Slayer, thereby getting back in her good graces. By the time, he’d gotten to Buffy’s house, the red haired wonder was already being coddled on the couch by the Scoobies. Obviously he’d been too late. Buffy had spotted him and escorted him out. His jaw was still hurting from the ‘reminder’ she’d given him that she’d told him to stay away from her. It would pass eventually; at least it always had before. Till then, it was better he steer clear.

He’d come to Sunnydale for many reasons. A Slayer and a Hellmouth, that guaranteed that he’d never have a dull moment. Spike had the small town his home because he knew it was teeming with darkness, and it felt like he belonged there. Sometimes the fantasy of what Buffy would do if he up and left someday played out in his head. Sure, the Scoobies actually protected him, and he had contacts in Sunnydale. However, part of him wanted to see the Slayer try and get along without his help. She’d be dead in 48 hours, tops. Which, Spike admitted to himself, was why he DIDN’T just up and leave. He was convinced that deep down she needed him. Maybe Dawn did too. Probably…all the Scoobies did…whether they liked it or not.

As for Dawn, Spike was going to have a little chat with her about loyalty.

The knocking came again.

“Can’t you take a hint? NO one is sodding home!” He yelled and threw his bottle at the front door. It hit the door and it started to shatter but then….it stopped. Just stopped in mid-air like in a Bugs Bunny Cartoon. Suddenly it all came back together again and flew back to his hand.

He rubbed his eyes. He must have drunk more than he thought. The door to the crypt pushed open and in stepped the blonde witch, walking inside like she owned the place.

“Should have known.” The vampire sighed. He tilted his head and looked over her academically. “Well you don’t look any worse for the wear.” Spike leaned forward, trying to see behind her. “You alone?”

“I wanted to talk to you.” Tara said, her voice cold. Anger tightened the corners of her lips. All in all, fury was a simple emotion. Especially when directed toward someone you weren’t sure you liked, much less trusted. On the walk here, the resentment that Tara felt about what the vampire had helped Dawn do had become cool and controlled.

“You wanted to talk to me?” He echoed with an agitated expression. He could just guess what this was about. Spike took a drink and extended the bottle to her. “Drink?” She shook her head. “Fine. Well, as you can see, I’m a busy man. Get on with it.”

Her eyes were the color of a pale sky and they bore into him. He’d always sensed something about this one. Like with Dru, he had known that she knew things, that she had an extra sense to her. He felt that kind of thing when he was around Tara. She had power. Not like Red’s. But Power none the less. However, she also had a bleeding heart. It was her downfall, and it was why she would never be anything truly big in the scheme of things. Tara was too afraid to use all of what she had been given.

He stood and sat on the edge of his bed, motioning her to take the now empty recliner. She didn’t move. “I know what you did.” Tara began and her voice was stronger than he’d ever heard it. “I know about the book. Buffy told me.”

“Here to turn me into a hippity hop, are you?” Spike asked with an insolent smirk.

She shook her head, her expression not changing. “I’m here to ask you a question. “ She replied, tilting her chin up slightly. “You fought beside us all summer. Did you mean to put Willow and I through hell, Spike? Because that’s what happened.” It was like being hammered at, what she’d said, the expression on her face.

Arrogant, biting words that usually rose to his tongue at a whim deserted him. Hell? “Something went wrong.” The vampire admitted weakly. “It was supposed to be the big story of the rainbow with a pot of gold. Just a story.”

She didn’t let him off the hook. “You used Willow and I’s faith and what we feel for one another against us. You look down on people.” She took a step toward him. “You like manipulating them. You think it proves that you’re smarter and stronger….and that we’re weak.” Tara’s eyes searched his, daring him to argue. He didn’t. He couldn’t. Her eyes were holding him fixed in one spot and stealing words from him. She straightened, her lips setting in a thin, uncompromising line. “Even children can be cruel and they can manipulate. You’ve been alive for hundreds of years, and you haven’t learned anything.”

Finally he stood up, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He wanted to rail at her for daring to say any of that crap to him, but her words were soft, her features calm and forthright. He didn’t know how to react. All he knew was that in a few words, she had managed to tear his pride to shreds “I think,” He said weakly. “You should go before you step in it any deeper than you have.”

She kept regarding him calmly. “I could do things to you, with magic. I could hurt you. Even without the magic, Buffy was ready to come after you.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I told her not to.” Tara continued. “I said I would talk with you. Alone.”

Spike felt like he was being held over a barrel. How had this shy little thing one-upped him so quickly? His body tensed, waiting for something to happen. Wherever Tara and Willow had gone, it obviously wasn’t pleasant. She owed him one, and besides she’d called Buffy off. In his experience that meant that Tara wanted to do the damage herself.
“So you wanna have a go?” Spike asked anxiously, waiting for a move on her part that was taking forever to come. The way she was looking at him, her heart in her eyes touched by betrayal made him uncomfortable.

“No.”

“All talk as usual eh?” A slow syrupy smile lifted his mouth corners. His eyes danced with challenge. Spike leaned closed and whispered in her ear. “You know, before the chip, I didn’t even bother with girls like you. So sweet and shy….and boring.”

Tara’s smooth features tightened. She lowered her head, and even from where he stood, Spike could feel her boiling deep down. Good. Maybe she’d try and hit him. That would be a lot more what he was used to than this. She shook her head and dispelled her emotions, remaining calm. “I want you to understand that the only reason you’ve stayed alive as long as you have, is due to the goodness you think makes us so weak. And I want your promise that you’ll never do anything like this to Willow again.”

Spike considered that. “Even if I gave my word, what makes you think I’d keep it? Gonna tell me all about how I’m not really evil and I just need a chance to be a real boy.”

“I’m not offering you a chance at redemption. Even if you deserved it, I don’t have that power.” She answered slowly. “I’m asking you to prove that you’re worthy of my respect.” She moved another step toward him and his body leaned away from hers expecting some sort of blow. Wanting it, actually. Wanting something he could fight “Promise me.” She repeated.

There it was, and he felt like he was back in knickers being drug by his mum around the park on a Sunday afternoon. His pride was no longer in shreds; she had taken a piece from him. She had made him smaller. Try as he might, there didn’t seem to be anything he could do about it.

He wanted to shout at her that he didn’t care what a shy, stuttering little girl like her thought of him. Except that suddenly he did care – a bit. Which he didn’t understand. For the un-life of him, he didn’t know why. Spike felt like she was spinning him round in circles. He actually lowered his gaze from hers and shuffled uncomfortably.

“Yeah.” The vampire muttered to her. “Fine.”

Tara nodded once and moved without another word to the door of the crypt. It took him a full minute to move again, but when he could, he surprised himself. Spike went after her, feeling the need to do something.

[mariacomet]

Okay my beta reader rocks. Thank you Leather Angel.

Usually I put my work through a couple of betas just in case, but I really want to get this up. Sorry if Leather and I missed something.

Title: Legends of the Kiss part 7b

Feedback: - Just remember that smut is coming up.

Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com
Distribution: Just let me know.

Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.

Rating: PG•for now. There will be at least an 'R' part toward the end, which I have to tell you I am already blushing about writing.

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.

Legends of the Kiss
Part 7b
By Mariacomet.

Once upon a time there was a land of shrivelled, sad things. They lived in the dark, you see, because they knew they were so horrible that if people saw them, they would run in fear. Or worse, people would hate them. More than anything, these monsters longed for a place of their own, where they could be loved. For as monstrous as those beasts were, each had a heart that yearned for more. In their naiveté, they elected a queen from among them. She was the most beautiful creature in the land. They placed their faith in her, trusting that she would find them a home, a place where they were not feared and could live happily in the light. The queen sought out such a place, but when she found it, she betrayed the creatures and kept it for herself.

Most people, at times, long for hero/protector/rescuer to gallop in on white horseback, to ride in and save the day. Even strong shoulders grow weary. Even hard hearts grow cold. We grow up, learning that in the real world, we must ultimately save ourselves. Accepting this makes us independent, and strong. It forces us to hold on hard, or defeats us and we let go. One person cannot save another from life, anymore than one person can save someone from themselves. But there are times where the beat of hooves can be heard riding in from the distance. We find ourselves – just for a moment - rescued… protected… saved. Thing are never totally the same after that.

”I trusted you more than anyone in my life. Was all of that a lie?”

The words stuck Tara’s heart painfully and she was desperate to deny it. She couldn’t say the next word fast enough. “No!”

Willow seemed to believe, she took it in, her eyes dropping just a moment. She took in a deep breath and found Tara’s eyes again with her own. “Do you want to leave?” Tara could feel the pain radiating from the question, as if Willow couldn’t believe what she was asking. Yet the question was sincere. Her partner was asking her what she wanted.

Tara’s father had already had his patience taxed. He was used to taking command, and tried to do so now with Willow. “That is not your decision, young lady.”

He had underestimated what the young woman felt for Tara. Determination burned in Willow’s face and she stared down Mr. Maclay. “I know that.” She said firmly. The red head faced the woman she loved again. Her eyes were so gentle Willow’s breathing was coming more quickly, a result of the effort to try and contain her own heartache and concentrate on Tara. “Do you want to leave?” The words were soft and even and the blonde knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if it was what she wanted, Willow would step aside. She loved her that much. More than anyone had ever loved her.

Tara’s eyes were brimming. She slowly shook her head ‘no.’

Under the moonlight, Tara’s mind was awash in such thoughts. Willow had saved her. She had stood by her when Glory had taken her sanity. She had found her crouched in the darkness when Tara had been sure she’d never find a way home.

The pages of her mind turned, and there were endless pictures. Willow singing slightly off key in the shower just after they had begun – for all intents and purpose – sharing a dorm room. Tara watching the woman she was falling in love with as she studied a spell, darting her eyes away as Willow looked up. Stolen kisses in the library, or at the Magic Box. Willow, taking her hand and tugging her into a small corner or cranny. Their first Christmas together, and the way that Willow had been so eager for Tara to open her gift. Her love was Jewish, but they had decided that they were perfectly happy to celebrate any occasion that would allow them to give one another gifts.

Tick-tock, Tara.

She’d wasted valuable time. How long had it been? 15 minutes? 20? Wasted on Spike. But she’d needed to do something, to be in control. To lash out? It was possible that had been what she’d done. Telling off the vampire had felt good. He had no right to hurt people like Willow and get away with it. In the crypt with Spike, she’d been certain that she was doing the right thing. Her course was clear. Part of her felt amazed that she hadn’t been scared to death, even if Spike did have the chip. He’d hurt Willow. He’d helped Dawn manipulate Willow. For a minute, she’d been able to grab onto something that didn’t involve complicated, heartbreaking emotions. It had been something to do, an action she could take. Now, everything was crashing down around her again.

All her life when she was in pain, she’d been able to retreat into herself, into her mind. This time, it had been impossible to find any place to hide, to analyze or feel her way through. She felt lost.

“Hey.” She heard a voice call out. The English accent gave away who it was immediately. “Tara. Tara!” The blonde Wiccan didn’t turn back but she did stop. She was surprised that he knew her name. He’d never used it before. Spike shuffled his feet and she could almost swear he looked contrite. “Look, if I was trying to get my jollies by sending one of you away, it’d be monkey boy.” Tara turned to him and raised her brows. “Least you and Red can occasionally be useful.” He explained.

“We feel the same way about you.” Tara said seriously. It was an olive branch between them, in a weird, Spike-like way.

He snorted softly, but even in his present mood, he saw the humor in the words. “Yeah well, occasionally isn’t half bad odds.” He looked around, and then glanced at her curiously. “You know, you’re going the wrong way to get to Buffy’s.”

“I’m not… I’m heading home.”

It seemed to surprise him. He rolled his head up long enough to look at the moon. “Don’t you and Red have an appointment in a bit?” She wished he were gone. She wished she were alone. Tara wished… that she could feel Willow’s arms around her – just for a moment. “I guess you have a couple hours though, can make it a bit dramatic finish. Just didn’t picture that you were the type. Of course, it seems you’ve quite a few surprises in you.” His teeth bared in a pleasant expression. “If you weren’t a skirt chaser…”

Tara eyed him. Her reaction to him now resembled her normal feelings about him; a little fear mixed with mistrust and a reluctant general gratitude that at least for the moment, he wasn’t an enemy. “I d-don’t think we should go there. Besides, I’m… um… very fond of skirts. Very, very fond. I have been for a long time.”

Inwardly, Spike chuckled. It was about the reply he’d expected, but it just wouldn’t have been him not to say it. The vampire was hoping she’d take it as an offhand compliment. He was still trying to think of a way to get back in Buffy’s good graces and maybe earn a point or two with this witch. Maybe he’d been looking at this all wrong. A witch that owed him a favour could be a very good thing in the long run. “Right, so, how about I do the gentleman bit, walk you home, then wait around outside till you’re ready to go find Princess charming? Make sure you don’t get eaten by any nasties. “

“That’s okay.” Tara said dismissively.

“Come on now, can’t hold a grudge forever can you?” He studied her again. She was distracted, very distracted by the looks of it. “Earth to blondie.” His eyes narrowed slightly as an idea occurred to him. “You… are going to play kiss-and-makeup with Willow tonight?”

Tara wrapped her arms about herself and looked up as the moon. Her mind’s eyes went back to the moment earlier that evening when Willow had kissed her. She could still feel the warm tingle of the kiss against her lips. It seemed like a million years ago. “Buffy thinks…” She started without remembering that it was Spike she was talking to. He had never pretended to care about any of them – save Dawn and Buffy. The human and the vampire looked at one another awkwardly. The vampire rubbed his fingertips over the back of his hair as the silence stretched on.

He sighed finally. “Buffy thinks what?” She looked at him dubiously. “What? You have someone better to talk this over with?”

“You mean besides Buffy, Xander, Anya and Dawn?”

“Buffy and Xander are Willow’s best friends. Not exactly neutral are they? Dawn is a spot too young to be handing out dating advice. And the demon chick is… do I really have to explain why that’s not a good idea?”

Tara shut her eyes and realized suddenly how true his words were. She hadn’t discussed Willow with anyone at length because she didn’t know anyone in Sunnydale well enough to do so EXCEPT… the Scoobies, who had all faced life and death with Willow. She had met a few people since moving back into the dorms, but she was, by nature, a very private person. Had things gotten so bad that Spike had actually become a viable confidante?

Spike was trying to be nice. Maybe he owed her one for the fact that the spell had gone wonky. Besides it made him feel like he was salvaging his pride. There also was the off chance that Tara might mention this good deed to Buffy. Basically though, he realized, he was starting to miss having conversations with others. Half the demons in town barely spoke to him anymore. Buffy would show up for a shag and then run off. None of the Scoobies were worth much bother and even if they had been, they treated him like the plague. At least Tara had managed the brass ones to come stand up to him. He liked that. He even respected it.

Spike examined her, studying her intently. “Did Buffy actually tell you it’s a good idea for you to throw away a chance at eternal love?”

**************************************
“I think it’s the best thing to do.” Buffy said firmly.

Xander nodded in support of the words. “Right. Skip the bridge and cut the whole thing off at the knees.”

Willow looked from one of them to the other. “If my vampire self shows up or anything starts glowing blue, I am so magicking myself out of here. Addiction be dammed.”

The slayer’s features grew more sympathetic and she crouched in front of Willow, showing the palm of her hand. “See? No bad glowiness.” Willow had told them about her experience. She hadn’t included every detail of course. But she’d told them enough to completely distress them.

Xander was giving a rather intense frown. “Was I really that big a jerk in high school, Will?” Her childhood friend asked seriously. “Because if I was, I’ll kick my own ass.”

Guilt. More guilt. Willow sighed, adding that portion onto the Mount Everest inside her. “Xander, you just didn’t see me that way. Not until the fluke. That doesn’t make you a jerk.” He slid his hands in his pockets. The construction worker looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t.

Buffy touched Willow’s hand. “For the record, I know that you could never want anything bad to happen to any of us. It’s not in you, Willow.” The forgiveness in those words quieted the still smoking embers of pain and guilt Willow felt regarding Buffy’s death. She managed a smile and leaned forward, hugging the slayer. Buffy moved to draw back after a moment, but Willow held fast, like a child clinging to a parent. The blonde felt her smaller friend’s body tense. She grabbed onto Buffy as if Buffy was a lifeline and she was afraid if she let go, she’d be washed out to see. Home, this was home, she kept telling herself. She was safe here.

The emotional price of what she had given to Tara was slowly riding over her. She felt like she was falling, but her friends were there to catch her. Xander moved forward quietly and bent down to encompass both of them in an embrace. They had needed a moment like this for some time, but they hadn’t been aware of it. When the three friends finally parted, it was with smiles and tears all at once.

“I love you guys,” Willow murmured gently, and when she did she was saying it for all of them.

******************************************
“I didn’t say I care.” The vampire was saying. “Something strange happened tonight. I’m curious is all.” Spike shook his head ruefully. “You know, nothing I ever do to you lot goes like I plan it.” Tara let out a huff of agitation at the words and her eyes became sharp and hard like rocks pressing into him. He raised his hands, fending off the glare. “I’m just saying…”

She looked away and shook her head. Had she actually been considering talking to SPIKE about all this, she asked herself. Tara didn’t want to deal with him anymore. “I have to go.” She started walking away from him again.

Spike remembered the price if Tara didn’t show at the bridge. The last thing he needed was Buffy finding a way to pin the red head’s demolished heart on him. He considered his options. Tara really seemed to love Willow. They had seemed happy together, as far as he could tell. They’d looked after one another on patrols. Held hands, and talked in whispers whenever they could. Tara had never seemed like a coward to him, and if anything so far tonight’s events had confirmed that he had had underestimated her. “You gonna just leave Willow in the thick of it?”

Leave Willow. Leave. Willow. She had walked away once and felt that she was walking away from the best part of herself, of her life. It seemed insane. Yet on some level, she had always expected to lose Willow. Being alone felt much more natural to her. She had become a realist even though her gentle heart had never totally abandoned her ideals. For the most part, dreams happened for strong people. Normal people. She had been taught all her life that she was anything but normal. The best that she could hope for was not to be noticed, not to be found out. She had been hiding all her life. Then a spunky young woman had walked into her world, into her heart. Willow hadn’t made her feel normal either; she’d made her feel cherished.

You made me believe, Tara told Willow in her mind. “You said yourself it was just a story.”

“It was supposed to be.” He empathized the middle word. “But then you and Willow took a magic carpet ride.” Spike smirked. “No pun intended.” She eyed him then started walking away once more.

He kept pace with her. “Wait a minute.” She didn’t. “You and Red were given something tonight. You don’t ask questions when something like that happens and you don’t just throw it away.”

“I’m n-not trying to throw anything away.” Tara felt turned around, like someone had spun her and spun her and there was nothing left now but the dizziness.

He took her arm lightly and pointed in the direction of Buffy’s house. “Then why the hell aren’t you marching yourself to Buffy’s front door and staking your claim?”

“Because I don’t treat the people I love like possessions.” Her voice was just as fiery as his. The first snaps on her control beginning to break. She willed herself to soften. “Love isn’t about possessing someone.”

“Not even if that’s exactly what they want?” The vampire shot back. She didn’t answer him. His newfound respect for her waned. It was none of his business, of course. Still, she had just nailed him to the wall, and her attitude seemed at least mildly hypocritical. “You’re all on about what I do and don’t know… well I know this, if you love someone, you forgive them. That’s the way it works.”

“I have forgiven her.” Tara had told herself that she had a long time ago, but the anger had still been there, burning on a slow wick. Tonight, though, she could feel that fire being put out. Tara understood now, and while it didn’t erase the fear, it did still the anger. She just wanted to go home. Or to go to Willow. But she couldn’t could she, not while she was this afraid. Afraid of the future that was creeping up towards her. A life with Willow, a life always being unsure and doubting Willow. Or a life without Willow. What if she chose to go to the bridge but the fear of betrayal never left her? She would make Willow believe, and yet never be able to offer her beloved all of her heart. “I n-need to go.”

“Right. You head on home, little girl. This whole love thing is for us big kids.” Tara lowered her head, feeling the war inside her between that part of her that loved Willow desperately and that part that only wanted to be safe and unafraid reach a fever pitch. She refused to cry in front of the vampire, but tears swelled none the less. He took one step closer to her, his face quieter – honest instead of sardonic. “The whole universe is turning itself inside out so that you two can have a chance to be together.”

“I know that.” Tara bit out. “I know it and I can’t stop doubting.” Her voice was louder then she’d intended it to be. “I spent my entire life s-studying magic, and the only reason that I found out she cast a spell on me was because of luck. I didn’t even know she was in trouble with the magic until it was too late.” The revelation surprised them both. She had been thinking such things for a long time, but never voiced them. It had just blurted out.

Spike didn’t know anything about Willow casting a spell on Tara, but he’d been walking the earth long enough to add a few details together. After all it wasn’t every day he woke up and thought he was related to Giles. Inwardly he shuddered at the memory. “Welcome to planet earth. People doubt everything. Nothing to be done about it.”

“I didn’t doubt Willow. Not until… b-but I doubted everyone else.” She realized she wasn’t talking to him. Her mind was trying to sort itself out. He just happened to be standing there. “I never expected her to give up the magic. No one in my life has ever…” She shook her head. “She was always there, loving me. It changed everything. And then… everything changed back. Now, I’m facing the jump knowing how much it hurts when you fall. I hate that I’m not sure… t-that I can give as m-much as she’s given me. I just don’t know if I’m strong enough to face the fall again.”

Spike’s jaw worked. He gave a long sigh. “Look, it’s none of my business but you’re acting like a stupid git. If you love her, then there’s nothing you won’t try to be with her. If you don’t, then…” He lifted his shoulders in a large shrug. “Like I said. Don’t care. Just mildly curious.”

So simple, the way Spike put it. Willow had stood by her, saved her. Just this once, she wanted so much to be there for Willow. She doubted her own courage and the vigour of her heart. Her ex-partner understood the price for offering a heart. It was everything. If she could find the strength to go to the bridge, that was exactly what she’d be risking.

********************************************

“I know you guys have good points.” Willow conceded. “I'm not all go-misery- it’s- your birthday, but I’ve made my decision on this.”

“I don’t like how unpredictable this has been so far.” Buffy grumbled in agitation. She was pacing. Again. “Me Slayer. This Sunnydale. Unpredictable bad.”

Willow’s green eyes were luminous. “I have to follow through with this.” It was almost enough to sway her friends, but they were worried.

“I keep thinking worst case scenario and I think… Willow in blue treeland… FOREVER.” Xander noted in agitation.

“It isn’t just you, Will.” The slayer noted for at least the tenth time. “You’re putting Tara at risk too.”

Willow had to admit that possibility was a bit daunting. “So far, everything in the Legend has come true.” Her brow furrowed. “The Legend doesn’t say that Tara is at risk.”

“Reality check. Just you in possible peril is not a good thing. And Will, if something happened to you, she’d have our heads.” Xander reasoned. He and Buffy both had on their most somber expressions. “Maybe literally. I’ve seen her use an axe.” He was using humor to diffuse things as he always did. The truth was that he didn’t relish the idea of going to Tara with any such bad news. Besides, no one knew this, but a few days after the now infamous break up, Tara had asked him to give his word that he’d look after Willow for her. He’d promised.

The ex-demon among them frowned suddenly. “Do you think we should go to Tara’s and offer her some spaghetti? Stress can often be relieved by eating a healthy meal and having pleasant company.”

Her fiancé gave her a long-suffering look. “No more Oprah.” Xander told her sternly. “Still my little homemaker has a point. Let’s get Tara over here and figure this out.”

“No!” Willow cried out. “Okay, meddling done. You all have your hearts in the right place, and I know we’re a team… but this is between Tara and I. I want to do this. And whatever Tara decides, I don’t want her to decide it because she’s worrying about me.” She gave her friends a beseeching look. “I have to trust that everything will be okay. I have to believe.”

Those kinds of odds were too vague for the slayer. “What if you’re wrong? We don’t really know the source of the magic. What if it seems all romantic but really it’s…”

There was no doubt now in Willow and it shone in her gaze. “It’s worth it. It’s Tara, Buffy. Capital T. Capital A. Capital ‘Rah.’” She grabbed her coat and moved toward the door. She noted Dawn was sitting on the stairs even though the teenager had been ordered to bed some time ago. The red head paused to kiss her cheek. “It’s gonna be okay, Dawnie.” She said quietly. She moved to the door and closed it quietly behind her. Xander and Buffy exchanged a look and instantly Buffy pointed to Dawn, indicating she would handle that and she motioned Xander outside. Xander moved to follow his lifelong friend. Jogging out the door after her. “Not to sound all B-western but - don’t try and stop me.” Willow said without even looking at him. He fell into step beside her.

“I just thought maybe you’d like a big strong man type to walk you there.” Xander answered.

“A big strong man and one kick ass slayer.” Came a voice from the doorway of the house. Willow grinned at Buffy. “The ex-demon would like to have come, but she’s baby-sitting the ex-key.”

Xander shook his head in sudden awe. “We’re a motley crew, we Scoobies.”

“You sure about this, Will?” The slayer had to ask one more time.

Willow’s smile became soft at the edges and her eyes lit up, as if just the thought of Tara filled her with joy. “I love her.”

Together they started off into the night. By Xander’s watch it was only about Eleven thirty. Plenty of time to get to a bridge that was ten minutes away. Her two best friends promised Willow they would disappear as soon as Tara showed. No one was willing to bring up the possibility of what happened if Tara didn’t show. They were only about three or four minutes from the bridge when Buffy suddenly stopped.

The redhead knew that look and paled. Trouble in River City. Bad guys somewhere nearby, and likely watching them. Buffy had a sixth sense about these things.

“No. Not now.” Willow said. It was a wish, a prayer, a humble but heartfelt request. The slayer opened her mouth to say something comforting, but she didn’t get a chance.

Two vampires suddenly charged. Buffy pivoted, intercepting one and kicking him in the face. Xander moved towards the other but was backhanded for his trouble. The young man tried to return a blow in kind but his fist was grabbed. He suddenly realized that whoever this vampire was, he was a good foot and a half taller and a hundred pounds heavier. In fact both of the un-dead attackers could have passed for professional football players. The demon dropped on top of Xander and opened his mouth to enjoy a bite, but Buffy grabbed him by his collar and drug him off.

“No. No. No.” Willow muttered again. It was right about that time that she felt a blow to her face.

Title: Legends of the Kiss part 8a

Feedback: - My muse is greedy, I am just an innocent.
Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com

Distribution: Just let me know.

Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.

Rating: One more part till an 'R' rating. Maybe even an NC 17.

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.

Thanks and Attagirls and Attaboys: To Leatherqueen, and kielisan, who make me look like a far more intelligent and capable writer than I really am. And who deal with rewrite after rewrite without strangling me. To my friend Dan and Sean, who barely watch Buffy and yet listen to their friend ramble on about a story they will likely never read for hours at a time. To Puff and katy, and Rosenberg for letting me cry on their shoulders when I was sure I was never going to get the bridge scene done, and for their overall encouragement. To Toni, for being the best meanie, I know. To RJ (MW) You gave me several lines and much more then I could ever note in one brief post. I bounce all my ideas off you and you always make them sing.

I know, I know, I am beginning to sound like I am accepting an Academy Award. Sorry, gang, but I am one giant mush ball.

Lastly thanks to everyone who wrote me either on the board or privately. (Even those of you who are now skipping this bit and getting right TO the story ) In all honesty, I wouldn’t have been able to finish this without you.


Legends of the Kiss part 8a
By Mariacomet

We are taught the truth that nothing in life lasts, and we have no reason to believe that anything is constant. Looking around, one would be hard pressed to find a reason exists to believe that love can endure, that people are inherently good, or that hard work pays off. The wind blows, and the world is dark. Still, the dreamers say that somewhere in the world there are those that have forged lasting things. Since nothing is entirely new, if it happened once, then perhaps it can happen again. Belief is the cup into which we pour our ideals and occasionally sip. For some, the liquid is sweet but often they find their glass empty compared to their thirst. For others, the liquid is bitter and though there is always enough, they must force themselves to drink.

“The whole universe is turning itself inside out so that you two can have a chance to be togethe [/i]

From Tara’s dresser, the clock winked its red digital numbers at her.

11:35. She knew because she had checked the clock at least 6 times in the last thirty seconds. She kept grabbing her jacket and heading to the door, only to stop, sigh and march back.

“I do want to be with you, Willow, “she told her ex-lover in her mind. “ I just don’t know if I can be… if we can be… again. Do people really get second chances? The practical side of her said no.

“ “You always think you can fix things. You can’t fix us, Willo [/i]“

She was of two worlds; the one that she lived in, and the other that lived inside her. Her dreams were simple, but they were so far from the reality, that they seemed enchanted. In her mind, there existed the place where people were inherently good, where hard work paid off and where love – always and forever, prevailed. Certain people in Tara’s life, the ones that mattered, had called her wise. If this was true, it was because she was able to judge just how far apart the world of her dreams was from the real world. It was hard to say where Tara had spent most of her time, in which place she had truly grown up. She had spent countless hours crafting every tree and every animal in that place in her mind. She left nothing to chance. This was her vision and therefore, her creation. It was the way things ought to be.

In her world, there was always music.

In the real world, demons chased the innocent. Parents lied to their children. Love became bitter. She did not ignore the reality, yet she was unable to let go of the dream. It was a part of her. Her eyes saw so much beauty, so much that held potential and she wondered what would happen if those potentials flourished.

In her world, there was magic.

And then, she had met Willow.

“I’ll be at our bridge at midnight. I still believe, Tara. I want you in every way. And I want to be with you. Completely. If you come to meet me, I want you to feel the same wa [/i]

She had been of two worlds, but when she had fallen in love with Willow, her worlds drew close together, almost merging into one. The possibilities came alive.

In the real world, there was suddenly music.

In the real world, there was suddenly magic.

Until one day, with one betrayal, the two planets were shoved further apart then they had ever been.

“I gave you everything and you still needed the magic. I don’t understand how you started needing it more than you needed me. I thought we could face anything together. We faced death, Willow. We faced the end of the worl [/i]

The distance became so great between the two that even Tara could not measure it.

“How long did you last without magic, Willow? A few hours? No, not even that. You were planning this in your heart even while she told you she was thinking about leaving you. You were promising that you could go a month without magic and already thinking about your next spel [/i]

Both worlds had stayed in that flux, occasionally getting nearer, but mostly maintaining their painful remoteness. Yet the Legend and Willow’s gift had made their orbits come round again.

You had your reasons and your fears, but they were no greater than mine, and I never betrayed you.

Would you forgive me if I didn’t come to you, my heart?

Would I be able to forgive myself, if I ignored all my common sense and did go?

She knew deep down that no single act was going to happen in the next few minutes that would sway her either way. As nice as it would have been, Tara was not going to look up to the sky and see a sudden “yes” or “no” written there.

Her eyes drifted to the leather bound book lying near her jacket. The perfect forgery that had somehow became genuine. Tara’s fingertips skimmed the binding and then carefully turned the pages.

She began to read but her eyes stopped on eight words.

"Oh warrior, then go to your true lov [/b]

She closed her eyes. The word ‘warrior’ was a painful reminder of everything she was not. Everything she wasn’t sure she could be. The small phrase rang in her head. Go to your true love.

What we had was a miracle. It burned, and it was so comforting all at once. You saw things in me that I couldn’t see; things that I know were always there. I was drowning in you and yet I have never been more myself.

Willow, her heart whispered softly. It said the name again and would not be silent.

"Oh warrior, then go to your true lov [/b]

It was the moment she realized that she had been fooling herself.
*******************************************************************************************

Willow pumped her legs faster, she knew her adrenaline was surging, since even Buffy was having a hard time keeping up. She rounded a curve and almost lost her balance. Her female best friend caught her elbow, steadying her.

“Hang on, Will.” Buffy said, looking back for Xander who was much further behind them.

The redhead had a long scratch down her cheek, her hands and face were marred by dirt. All in all, the battle had gone well. Xander and she had charged one of the vampires and had been able to stake him, while Buffy had taken out the other one. Both Willow and the construction worker had taken a few blows, but that was par for the course. Even Buffy got scrapes and bruises.

Willow looked worriedly at the path ahead then back to Xander who was holding his side, still struggling to catch up. She just wanted to reach the bridge; that was all she could think about at the moment.

“Little red Willow engine go fast.” The dark haired man managed to gasp out. “Xander, die here.” He hunched over, hands on his knees, inhaling a few lungsful of air, trying to catch his breath.

“Let’s go.” The redheaded muttered, still focused on their destination. She broke into a run again, but the events of the day combined with the events of the last few minutes were catching up to her, she barely had the energy to jog. She ducked under some trees, not even willing to wait as the path went round a bend. When she emerged from the woods the bridge was in sight. She could hear Buffy and Xander behind her. But her senses were centered on one thing and one thing only, finding any sign of the woman she loved.

But the bridge was empty.

It stood alone, deserted in the moonlight.

“She’s still got a good fifteen minutes, Will.” The slayer said gently, catching up to Willow again and dragging Xander with her.

Surely if Tara was going to come, she would be here by now?

The water running nearby seemed almost black. Willow was battered and bruised and up ahead, that silvery orb was constantly rising, ticking off time.

If Tara didn’t come… after Willow had offered her whole heart, what would be left to ever give to anyone else? After all this, if… if she leaves me here alone, will I ever be able to stop loving her?

Then she saw something, a small movement coming down the path on the other side of the bridge. She didn’t dare breathe, not until she was sure that the familiar form was really Tara.

“Xander and I will be…ah…” Buffy started and then rolled her eyes at herself and just hauled Xander away. Xander gave a forlorn look at being asked to move again so soon, but went along quietly.

Willow couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away from the other side of the bridge for long enough to acknowledge them. Even now, a part of Willow was sure that Tara had come here just to leave her again. She didn’t want to move because if this wasn’t real - if it was a dream - she wasn’t sure she could bear it. She didn’t want to look away, because she was sure if she did, Tara would disappear. Her lover started across the bridge and Willow finally moved to meet her.

They met one another halfway.

Neither spoke; both were afraid, and both were unsure what to say.

“I wasn’t sure I should come,” Tara began softly. She swept her long wheat colored hair behind one ear, as she lowered her head slightly. “I’m still afraid. I don’t know how to stop being afraid.” Her next words were turned inward, angry, frustrated. “What you did tonight should be enough; it should be more then enough, but…”

She was so distraught that all Willow could think to do was try and comfort her. “When I showed you – tonight – I didn’t expect that to fix everything. I didn’t really know what would happen, or even if anything would. And what did happen – wow – really didn’t expect that.” Tara didn’t answer and Willow desperately forged ahead. “But really, I know things take time. I know you need to learn, to be shown that you trust me again. I mean, it’s been six months, but I know you haven’t really…let yourself…” Please, Willow told Tara in her mind, please just kiss me. Just let it be okay. One chance, Tara. Just give me one chance. I won’t let you down, baby. Or at least, I’ll try not to. I promise. “I’ll try and show you. I mean, I’m not perfect. I guess you know that better than anyone.”

“Willow…” Tara began to protest, not liking to hear the other woman refer to herself derogatively in any way.

The hacker didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. “I’m that place inside me, and I’m the person here and now – with you. I don’t know if that’s good enough. But I love you.“

Tara wanted to reach out but once again held back. It always seemed to come to that, the question of taking that final step, breaching that final barrier. “It’s never been a question of being good enough, Will.”

“Tara.” The former called out, halting her again. “We can do this. I think if we’re together, we can do anything. We can face whatever happens. We can find what we lost. We…”

“Shhh.” Tara ordered gently. Her nerves had been raw and perhaps that’s why she hadn’t noticed the cut on Willow’s cheek. But she did now. Suddenly all the questions and all the fears didn’t matter. Willow was hurt. Concern consumed her, and love and the need to soothe the pain. “Darling, what happened?”

Unconsciously Willow touched the place Tara was staring and then winced. “Oh yeah, I guess I didn’t notice. There were a couple of vampires we ran into on the way here. Which I didn’t find convenient at all, let me tell you.” A brief flash of pride bolstered Willow’s expression. “But you should have seen me - well maybe not the first five minutes of the fight when they were clobbering me. But after that…”

If anything the blonde’s expression became more worried. “Clobbering?” Tara asked with a frown. “Clobbering sounds bad.”

“No, maybe not clobbering. Maybe thumping? It’s not bad; it’s just a little…” Tara couldn’t help herself anymore; she stretched out her hand. Her fingertips traced her lover’s face lightly, near the cut being careful not touch it. At the caress, it was next to impossible for the redhead to keep her composure. “um…scratch.” If I don’t move, maybe she’ll never stop touching me, Willow thought. Don’t stop touching me, Tara. But her lover’s hand did fall away and Willow acutely felt the loss.

Blue eyes fastened firmly on green. “Are you okay?”

A small uncertain smile rose. “Can I tell you that in about five minutes?”

Tara’s lip corner’s lifted despite herself and they both looked up to the moon before gazing at one another. “I’m here.”

Willow nodded slowly, afraid to hope. “You’re here.”

Tara paused, she knew Willow was waiting, but the words refused to settle in her mind. There was so much to say, and yet maybe, it was all really very simple. “It doesn’t matter how afraid I am or how many doubts I have.” She took Willow’s hand and pressed the palm to where her heart trembled with both uncertainty and undaunted hope. “You still have my heart. You always have.“ Tara searched Willow’s eyes before going on, she needed Willow to know and hold that truth. “I don’t want to just be safe. I don’t want to just be realistic. And I don’t want to stop believing in us.”

The redhead took one more step. Just one. To be nearer to the woman she loved. “What do you want Tara?”

Tara squeezed her beloved’s fingertips where they rested over her heart. “I want to love you. All of you. I want you to love me. Totally. And if we make mistakes, I want us to make them together. Do...do you think we can do that?”

A watery smile. “I think we can do that.” Willow had been holding herself strong, and now her features collapsed, as the need for such masks fell away. The lovers reached for one another. Their foreheads pressed together, tears falling freely, their voices a mingling of whispers. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Tara answered softly.

Sometimes life dares us to defy its conventions. We humans are taught that nothing lasts, that nothing is constant – it is a common adage that we can trust no one but ourselves. Love laughs at all these rationales and picks up the gauntlet. It was a night where legends had come true and where one heart had been willing to sacrifice itself for another. It was the night that Tara Maclay looked into her soul and found there a white horse on which to gallop in on. It was a risk, and it was a dare but Tara’s heart ran forward.

“I want to give you everything,” Tara whispered, her breath teasing over Willow’s lips.The certainty of a kiss electrified the air between them. Their gazes locked with small unspoken words that were heavy with meaning.

Are you…

Yes.

Yes?

So scared. But…

But.

Oh, Willow.

My Tara.

And then Tara kissed Willow.

The first kiss was warm and feather soft, but they both needed more. They ached to rediscover the tingle of such simple touches between them. They wanted the effortless unity, soul deep and powerful, which had once been theirs. And so they searched and found, enraptured by the journey. Tara’s mouth asked tender burning questions and Willow answered with all of her heart. Willow sought reassurance, and Tara responded lovingly. They opened to one another, teasing each other’s senses with wine too long denied. Neither was brave enough to push forward and deepen the kisses, but at the same time neither was able to draw away. Their heads tilted one way and then another as they rained kisses on one another’s mouths. Fear and the pain seeped away, as hope and love took its rightful place between them. Tara’s fingers buried themselves in Willow’s hair, tangling in fiery tresses, as their hearts bloomed.

Suddenly they were rising from the bridge, but they were still trading kisses and didn’t notice. A blue glow surrounded them, at first soft but then growing brighter and brighter. The wind quickened, and spread its fingers making the water nearby begin to dance. The gusts twirled gently around the reunited lovers, moving over their hair and clothing. The power that held them rotated them slowly, so that the places they were standing in mid-air changed once and then changed back. Willow and Tara shivered, but not from the wind or any ethereal power, and still their rain of kisses continued, intense and unending.

From behind a bush where they were peering, Buffy and Xander grew wide-eyed. They had convinced themselves that they were just looking after their friends therefore spying were allowed. This new turn of events was worrying. But just then whatever power had followed Willow and Tara this night saw fit to carefully lower the lovers back to the wooden planks beneath them. The wind died and the light ebbed away. They parted, just long enough to take one another’s hands.

“I am, you know.” Tara said softly.

Willow’s mind was still somewhere lost in the middle of the thousand kisses they had just shared. “What?”

The woman she loved smiled. “Yours.”

The redhead gave a shy grin and shook her head. “I always fall for that.”

They leaned toward one another and greeted the new day with the kiss. The world was theirs.

************************************************************************

Willow was in bed, adjusting the covers so they were up to her shoulders then back down to her waist. Her eyes darted to the doorway of the bathroom, hearing the quiet movements within. She lifted the covers again, then sighed and folded them back over. She toyed with her pajama top. It was two piece blue set, the one that she usually slept in.

Maybe she should have worn something ‘special? Not alluring special, but nicer? The door she had been watching slowly opened.

Tara had always preferred long, one piece sleeveless gowns. This one looked like it was silk, it hung below her knees and flowed when she moved. DO NOT leer – Willow ordered herself. Eyes lingering on skin is bad. Mind running rapid with visions of curves and the feel of those curves, is ALSO bad. Tara rounded the bed to her traditional side and slowly climbed in. They lay there, a good foot apart, looking up at the ceiling.

“So, t-this is nice,” Tara said, her body stiff as a board.

“Yeah. Right.” They stole a look at one another.

“Are you nervous? I mean, I could understand if you were nervous.”

Willow had been convulsively swallowing every few moments. “Maybe a little.” She willed her nerves to untangle. “It’s just, sharing a bed again seems so…”

“Intimate.” Tara filled in.

“Right.”

Tara darted a glance at Willow and gave a shy smile. “You know, when you fall asleep, you’re just going to snuggle up to me. You always do.”

Willow felt her mouth twitch upwards. Her anxiety was beginning to fade. “So maybe we could come a little closer to one another.” Their eyes met and then danced away again. “You know, in the interest of saving time.”

“T-that’s probably all for the best.”

Neither of them moved.

Finally Willow let out a long exhale and turned toward her love, her head propped in her hand. Her eyes roamed over Tara’s face slowly, leisurely. “Tara?”

“Hmm?”

“Get over here.” The redhead growled playfully. Mirth filled eyes leapt up in time to catch Willow’s dazzling smile. Tara scooted closer and Willow folded her arms around Tara, pulling her beloved close.
The blonde Wiccan clutched Willow closer, her breath catching. Her eyes shut tightly. Being in her lover’s arms still felt like home; like she had been wandering for endless days and nights before arriving here again. Mentally, it was comforting, a relief to be close to Willow again. Her body though, recognized its mate and began to simmer. It needed and wanted and was not sated by the cool feel of her love’s skin. A dull, needle point ache started in her belly. She ignored it. It was going to be hard enough for both of them without that kind of thought process tonight. It would keep. They had time.

The hacker traced one fingertip down Tara’s back; amused at the way it made her shoulders arch forward. Tara always did that when her lower back was touched.

Mmm. TaraScent wrapping itself around me like the softest blanket in the world. Okay, whoa, that last inhale didn’t touch snuggly nerve endings, it moved right along to the much more primal nerve endings. Down, girl. I just got her back, I’m not about to scare her off. I can be patient. I’ll let her set the pace. Except for one thing. Just this one, little thing.

Willow leaned in and claimed a gentle, lingering kiss. She meant to draw away after a moment, but the tip of her partner’s tongue flicked against her. After that, rational thought and reasoning fled. Tara once again felt a surge within her body and groaned. She parted her lips, lifted her head and allowed Willow to drink. It was like Tara was dry, crackling timber that had been doused in gasoline, and then a match applied. Her passion was overwhelming and immediate. It had been denied too long and broke free from its cage utterly. Their mouths fluttered against each other.

Waitaminutewaitaminutewaitaminute, an inner voice in the hacker said frantically. Tara’s mouth suckled on Willow’s tongue as if it was honey. The redhead gagged her conscience.

Their kisses were swollen with desire, tormenting them both. Making them moan, and press closer in need. They clutched at one another, hands fumbling. Each sought to escape deeper into the velvet heat of the other’s mouth, and if they could have they would have swallowed one another whole. They writhed and twisted, hung on a string of desire and dangling. The urgent cry of more shouted inside both of them, uncaring of the consequences as long as this didn’t stop.

Waitaminutewaitaminutewaitaminute. Hormones are nice, but you love this woman, remember?

That logic finally pierced the Tara inspired haze.

“Whoa.” Willow muttered, and buried her head in the warmth of Tara’s shoulder, while she tried to catch her breath. “Whoa.”

Tara nodded slowly, trying to steady her own rising heartbeat. She felt guilty about allowing things to go so far, putting Willow in that kind of position. Her hand rose skimming over Willow’s face, re-memorizing the softness, the curves. “I’m sorry. I guess I got carried away. It’s been…”

“A long time.” Willow finished for her.

“I’m sorry.” The blonde whispered again.

“Hey, it takes two to make-out.” The other woman said with a reassuring smile. “It’s nice to know that you still…” Willow let the statement hang there.

“Oh, I still.” The words were firm, allowing no room for doubt. “But…You’re right.” Tara tenderly placed a kiss on Willow’s shoulder. “I’m not ready for that. Not just yet. Soon. But… not…”

“Not tonight.” Willow finished for her and looked deeply into her eyes. It was okay. It was enough to have Tara here, have her close. But Willow couldn’t stop her hands from moving, couldn’t stop reaching for her. “Can I… Can I touch you?” She whispered. “I don’t mean naughty touching; just… I need to touch you.” Her brow furrowed. “And I..I need you to touch me.”

The blonde Wiccan reached for her partner’s hand. She brushed her lips over Willow’s fingertips, and nuzzled the palm quietly. It was an investigation of the senses. She luxuriated in the softness of Willow’s skin, and the happy, contented sigh her lover made with every kiss and every touch. Willow’s shoulders and back held endless fascination. The flat of her hand caressed there slowly, even as she placed little cherishing kisses on every bit of bare skin she could find. It was exactly what Willow’s heart was starved for. The hacker’s hand curved on Tara’s shoulder, then ran down the slope of her arm till their fingers brushed. They traded a kiss and then Willow began the journey up and down Tara’s other arm. The exploration of one another was slow, gentle, with undemanding kisses and equally slow, soft touches. At one moment, Willow felt Tara jump slightly as her fingertips found a ticklish spot at Tara’s side. She grinned, remembering, and letting her hands continue their journey. Tara watched her beloved’s sparkling eyes and gave a crooked little grin that stole Willow’s heart all over again.

Tara reached behind her for the light switch as she felt Willow dot a kiss to her jaw line. They smiled at one another and then the room was bathed in darkness.

Neither of them would sleep that night and sometimes the touching would be too much and the desire built had to be reined in again. Sometimes their eyes filled with tears, but only happy ones. By the morning all the emptiness left between them was would be gone, and the hope would be so crisp and real that it would fill them with every breath.

***************************************************************************

In the shadow of a tree in front of Buffy’s house, Spike watched as the light from the bedroom above darkened. He lifted his flask in a silent toast and drank deeply.

The front door of the Summers' household opened and the vampire faded back, till he could be sure of who was exiting. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw it was Dawn. Buffy was likely still very hot under the collar about the whole book bit.

“Spike?” Dawn hissed and he stepped out into the moonlight. She looked at him uncertainly. “So… got your note.”

They both stared at each other.

“I see the two pigeons are all a-cooing upstairs.” He noted.

Dawn smiled brightly. “Yeah, I heard them come in. And it looks like Tara is staying here tonight. And she brought a box with her. It’s a small box, but still.”

The vampire’s expression didn’t change. “You know, what you told Big sis didn’t help anything. I’m going to have to lock my crypt door for the next few days as I sleep.”

The teenager didn’t feel repentant. Not truly. Well, not much. “You mad?”

“Yeah.” He said but slowly a smile touched his lips.

Dawn grinned. “Are not.”

“Am.”

“Not.” She said and slugged his arm, before backing up and running to the front door.
The teenager gave him a small wave and then snuck back in the house, closing the door oh-so-quietly behind her.

Spike let some of his fondness for the girl soften his features. “Sweet dreams, little bit.” He murmured, then lit a cigarette and headed for home.

*******************************************************************

Bang. Clatter. Thud.

And a soft curse ‘damn.’

Tara awoke, and gave a small frown. Firstly, she was cold. Her hand patted the space at her side. Okay, cold and alone. An unreasonable fear leapt in her mind, that everything the night before had been a dream. She opened her eyes and was relieved to find herself in Willow’s room…well…their room. Actually, they hadn’t officially talked about that. Not officially. Not yet. Something or someone was fumbling with the doorknob.

Tara blinked and tried to clear the cobwebs of sleep from her mind. She looked at the clock and found that she had slept till noon. She smiled briefly remembered the night before. Another thud came outside the door. That did it, her curiosity was fully roused and she was now awake.

She padded across the room and opened the door.

Her lover was crouched on the ground picking up a plate. Balanced in her other hand was a tray that had literally two layers of various foods on it. A rather sheepish expression passed over Willow’s face. “Made you breakfast.”

The blonde covered her smile with one hand. Sometimes she thought that she couldn’t possibly love Willow anymore than she did. Then something would happen, and it seemed like her heart would grow just a little larger. Just for Willow. “For me and the army?”

“I panicked.” Willow explained.

The blonde laughed, then bent down and began to help pick things up, but the red head shooed her away.

“Hey, trying to surprise you. Back to bed.”
Tara obediently retreated. Her lover finally managed to balance the tray just right and entered the bedroom with a flourished. Carefully, she placed the overburdened tray in Tara’s lap.

A stack of round Pancakes. Cereal. Scrambled Eggs. Sunnyside-up eggs. Four pieces of toast. A bagel. A tray of butter. Raisins. Peeled orange slices. Two waffles. Two different kinds of syrup. At least five stripes of bacon. Four Sausage links. French fries. And…a salad.

Tara held in her humour and darted another glance at the woman that held her heart. “It looks wonderful, honey. Thank you.” A kiss was a reward for the thoughtful gesture, and the hacker beamed. Too quickly though, Willow stood up, starting out again. The idea of her partner leaving so quickly did not please Tara at all. “Hey. You’re leaving me?”

A kiss denied that she was. “Never. But there’s a whole other tray of drinkage.”

The former laughed and caught her lover’s hand. “Wait. You know what you’ve never done for me?”

“Do you want that listed alphabetically?” That answer made Tara raise a brow. “It’s been six months, baby. I’ve had a lot of time to think.”

The blonde tugged her girlfriend closer and nuzzled her cheek. “Mmm. You’ll have to tell me about that list sometimes.” Tara murmured in Willow’s ear. The hacker groaned inwardly. This woman is trying to kill me slowly, but I am loving every moment.
“Actually, I was thinking, you know how I fed you grapes?” She motioned meaningfully to the tray.

“You're in the mood to be spoiled?” Willow stole a kiss then gave a slow, sexy and openly flirtateous smile. Turnabout is fair play, Willow decided.

"Only by you." Tara's eyes were smouldering.

Willow knew when she was outclassed and surrendered. She rounded the rather full tray and settled beside Tara. "One Tara Spoiling coming up." A memory touched the hacker, unbidden and unwanted. A flash of sadness tinted sea-green eyes. The darkness of the thoughts were hard to shake. She wanted to shove the subject aside, to hide her feelings and try and protect Tara. But she bolstered herself instead and met the blonde's curious gaze. “I did…do this before. You just…” It was hard to get the words out. “You just don’t remember.”

“I do remember.” They had never talked about this. Never. It was the only subject that had ever been off limits. Willow hadn’t wanted to remind Tara of that time, and Tara had been too afraid that talking about it would hurt Willow. But this was morning of new beginnings and maybe it was time. “It’s like trying to remember a dream. I don’t remember everything.” Her partner felt a degree of relief at the words. She didn’t want Tara to have to bear that burden. “Sometimes, for a long time after…all I could remember was the darkness. So dark. And I couldn’t outrun it. It surrounded everything and it kept me away from everything I knew, everything I loved. But I couldn’t escape it. And t-there were voices. My father. My brother.”

Willow closed her eyes, unsure if she could hear much more. She hated it. Hating the feeling of her having to stand there and watch Tara in pain.

“But…there was something else.” Tara cupped Willow’s face. “There was you. In the back of everything. I felt you. And I believed…I believed you’d find me.” Her eyes such a pale, wonderful blue filled with light.

Willow kissed her forehead. “Nobody messes with my girl.”

They held hands. “So, would you mind doing the feeding me thing again?” Tara asked.

Willow’s heart filled with the knowledge that she would do anything for her. And especially, anything to make her smile. Without a word, she reached toward the tray.


ALL kittens are welcome on the Scully Limo! (What, am I gonna deny those that have been offering me kitten goodness?! I think NOT)

BTW R.J, I am too, you know.

Spoilers: All episodes. I am loosely tying this to my 'Empty Boxes' and 'Believe' pieces but I don't think you have to read them to understand this.

Rating: One more part till an 'R' rating. Maybe even an NC 17.

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.

"The Knight removed his gauntlet and cast it to the ground. He drew his sword. Now was the time for rebellion."


Legends of the Kiss part 8b
By Mariacomet

Tara’s thoughts:

“Shouldn’t you be at home fondling Red instead of that tree?”

I don’t look at him but the color rises high in my cheeks. I know who it is instantly and it doesn’t make me entirely happy that he of all people (if he can be called that) has found me here. Still, I try to continue with what I am doing. “Please be quiet, Spike.” I ask and close my eyes again. I am kneeling before the tree, the fingers of one hand splayed on the soil directly in front of me, while I murmur soft incantations. Near me is a small cloth bag. I almost lose my place and give into a smile as the memory of how difficult it was to sneak it past my ever curious Willow. I chide myself silently for almost losing focus. I must become more disciplined, especially if I am going to be the one the Scoobies will be looking to magically.

Spike does what I ask, for about minute. Right until the time that I draw a pearl-handled dagger from the bag.

He squats by my side, his elbows leaning lazily on his knees. “Well, the Lady Witch has a bit of cut to her. Very nice. You thinking of getting revenge on the tree, are you?”

I turn to him, feeling calm. “This tree acted as a gateway and guardian to Willow and I. It gave us a gift. I am going to ask from it one more gift, but first, I wanted to know what I could give to it.”

Spikes laughs at me. He doesn’t understand and of course, him being Spike, that means what I am doing is utterly stupid. “How Christmas of you.” He muses sardonically. His attention pivots from me to the area around us in consideration. “You do know that at least two vamps gave you the eye while you’ve been here. I chased them off.”

I feel a knowing, crooked smile slide over my lips. “Uh huh. Still trying to get in good with Buffy again?” Check and mate. His motives are usually crystal clear and they are tonight. The vampire lifts his shoulders in a mighty shrug, refusing to deny or confirm my words, but I know and he knows that I do. Spike hasn’t barged into the Summer’s home since the night Willow and I went on our journey. Neither has Buffy gone after him for his part in that night events. There’s an odd tension between the two. Not just anger or irritation. I can’t quite put a name to it. “I’ll be okay, Spike. You don’t have to stay. And I’ll tell Buffy you…helped.”

Spike moves to his feet and looks thoughtful for a moment. Again, his eyes dart to the darkness, a quick investigation of that which is his natural habitat. He gestures to me. “You’ve put me through too much trouble already. There’s too many things out at night like to make a snack out of a blonde little morsel like you. And you know that if anything happened, it would somehow be the fault of the Chipped vampire. So hurry up and finish your tree-grope, then I’m seeing you home.”

I had wanted this to take no more than an hour, but his presence isn’t helping. “I’ll be leaving in just a few minutes, Spike.” An hour is not really what I would call a few minutes. I hate lying, even to an amoral vampire. I almost feel guilty. But then I remember that I am doing this for Willow. And that Spike is Spike. The guilt fades.

He smirks. “You have out your ceremonial what nots. The more ceremony, the more involved the magic. This isn’t some a quick razzle-dazzle spell.” I flush again. I have never been much good at lying. This is not something I regret. Spike is looking over the bag at my feet, trying to figure out exactly what I am doing.

I sigh. “If y-you’re going to stay, then make yourself useful.” I hand him a small rake from the pack. “Dig. About half an inch. All the way around the base of the tree.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Yeah, okay, I’ll do that. Just as soon as it drops below zero in hell.”

“You know turning you into a toad IS still an option.” I shoot back. The fire in me catches him a bit off guard. Well, this is for Willow, the fire is to be expected. He snorts softly and I almost smile at his bemused expression. Almost.

“Keep forgetting you have some claws to you.” Spike says.

I tilt my head up in something akin to bravado, only I know that the look doesn’t quite come off the way I want it to. “Well I do. You’re the one that’s insisting on staying. The faster I get this done, the faster we can both be on our way.”

Even Spike usually capitulates to reason. He lets out a long exaggerate breath then takes the hoe and begins digging. He lights a cigarette, letting it dangle out of the side of his month. “So what kind of gift are you giving the tree? If you’re planning on taking another little trip…” Spike tilts his head to one side. “No, you’re the levelheaded one, aren’t you?”

I don’t answer, instead I slowly cut a perfect circle from the center of the tree trunk. What I carve out is about the size of a quarter and just about two centimeters thick. It hurts the tree to do this, I know. So I will make it right. I sheath the dagger and place it and the wood carefully into the bag.

“I’m not levelheaded about the people I love.” I answer him.

“No one is. Love and levelheaded don’t belong in the same sentence.” Spike keeps digging. Sometimes, for an ex-big bad, he can be wise. “You doing this for Willow then?” I nod as I looking over the spell components carefully, making sure I haven’t missed anything. “So you two are all flowers and sunsets again?”

I smile softly, still intent on my reading. “Getting there.”


“Bout time one of you got a clue and didn’t fight off the thing you want most.”

This catches my attention. “You’re talking about Buffy?” I ask.

“I’m not talking about the bleeding tooth fairy.” The words are sharp but they are directed inward, not at me. I believe that what he feels for Buffy is strong. That part is obvious. But love is a powerful emotion, and without a soul to guide him the love always has the potential to become utterly destructive. It is what he knows. I take a small bottle of water from my bag and rain water into the hole that Spike has dug in a counterclockwise motion. “She’s all push and pull. Can’t make up her mind. For a slayer, she’s dammed indecisive.”

I don’t look at him when I speak. “Can I ask you something?”

“Maybe. What?”

“How do you know you love Buffy?”

“You know that I could ask you the same thing about you and Red?” I nodded, acknowledging that. He rolls his eyes. “Alright, I’ll play. Because I’d do anything for her. I’d die for her.” His words are almost gentle now and I know he’s sincere. And somehow I know he wants, maybe even on some level needs, me to believe him. I do. I believe he loves her as much as he is capable of loving anyone. But it’s obsessive, masochistic love. It scares me that he loves Buffy this deeply, and I know I’m right to be scared. And some small part of me realizes that both of them are in danger from this kind of love, so in that moment - briefly - I fear for Spike as well. He has, after all, been an ally for some time now. I know that one of my weaknesses is wanting to see the best in those around me. I know it and despite the fact that he is a vampire, and that I am still a little angry at the manipulation of Willow and I with the Legend, I feeling a stirring of empathy.

When I speak again, I am do so gently. “Dawn loves you.” It’s true. He recoils, but he is wearing what is for him - a humble expression. “And … you helped keep us safe this summer.” I take another vial from the bag, this one with a mixing of herbs I have prepared and again, I sprinkle the herbs around the base of the tree.

“Buffy asked us to before she…” It’s hard for him to talk about. He swallows hard, but he doesn’t like showing this side so the expression is pushed away quickly. “Anyway, that’s why I helped saved your rumps. Besides I have to get action where I can nowadays.” Spike impatiently asked, “You almost done here or what?”

I ignore his curt tone. “Without you, I don’t know what we would have done.” I look into his eyes. I feel frank, and sincere. I am only telling him the truth. I am thanking him. It’s likely none of the others ever will. I think Xander would say that he doesn’t deserve it. Some things aren’t about what people deserve. Some things you do because you feel it’s right and because it matters. After he gets a chance to think about it, Spike will likely belittle what I have said and reduce it to an example of Scoobie Stupidity. That doesn’t matter either. In some cosmic scheme of things my saying thank you to Spike matters and is right, so I do. I have his attention. The vampire is trying to decide how to react, he’s uncertain. “But Spike, sometimes the most loving thing to do for someone is to let them go.” My voice is still calm and gentle. I am learning that he has a hard time firing his usual sardonic comments when I use this voice. Spike doesn’t know what to do with kindness.

“That’s not what she really wants.” He protests and stands up. “I can feel it. There’s something there. I know there is. Always has been.”

Spike truly doesn’t comprehend what I mean. It makes me sad. “You don’t understand her, Spike. You can’t.”

Spike’s temper begins to boil and I watch him struggle to contain it. “You just don’t want to see her for what she is. I understand things about her that none of you can.”

“Do you regret anything you did before you got the chip?”

Spike has a devilish glint in his eyes and it chills me. “What am I supposed to regret?”

“You killed people.” I answer simply.

Spike grins, his teeth baring in a gleaming, confident smile. “I’m a predator, lady witch. I did what everyone does, I made the most of things. When I became a vampire, that’s when I found out who I really am, what I’m really capable of.”

I can only imagine what he’s done. I want to shudder but I keep my facial features open, and strong. “You’ve been a vampire… for a couple hundred years?”

He nods. “That’s about right.”

“That’s the gap that separates you and Buffy. A couple hundred years and the fact that you killed more people then you could ever keep track of, and you don’t regret it. Not even one of them. Maybe you do understand some part of her, but she’ll never understand you.”

He starts to say something, but words seem to have deserted him. Spike looked down and ran his fingertips over the back of his hair. I have thrown him off his game again. He doesn’t like it. He also isn’t quite sure how to combat it. Since the day that I confronted him about the book, I have had his number and we both know it. “I’m gonna take a look around. Be back in a few minutes.”

Some time later, I whisper three words to the tree of the king. “Live and grow.” I can almost feel it’s roots burrow deeper into the earth. It’s mighty limbs have been mostly bare since winter played court to its leaves, but now green begins to sprout again. It’s an older spell that I am doing, one that requires only minor magic. I am merely helping the tree to stay healthy. My understanding is that druids used to practice similar spells. I think I have just added five years or so to the tree’s natural life span. The cut I have made heals but scars the wood. I am regretful of that, but an inner voice tells me that what I have given is enough. It has balanced the scales. I stand slowly and lay one hand on the tree in a farewell.

Spike is waiting and he sees to it I get home safely even though he doesn’t say more than two words to me the entire walk there.

At the doorway to Buffy’s house, the vampire starts to takes his leave, but then he pauses his brow furrowed. “I do love her, you know.” He says quietly. “I don’t want to, but I do.” Again, his eyes are asking to believe at least this much about him.

“Then you have to try and help her do what’s best for her.”

“And that’s not me, that’s what you think?” Spike snaps in frustration. “It’s better that she pretend she’s something she’s not? Be all Miss Goody Two shoes when deep inside she’s a glorious dark animal.”

I shake my head. “She’s the Slayer, and I would never want to walk the line b-between the dark and light that she does. You’re probably right about her being dark somewhere inside. But that’s not who she wants to be.” I counter in a quiet tone. “That’s who you want her to be.”

Sometimes I think that part of the man he once was is still inside him, and I believe it is this part that can no longer hold my gaze. “Tell the bit I said merry this, that and the other thing, will you?” Spike mutters.

“Spike?” I call to him. He pauses and turns back to me, his expression inscrutable. We regard one another, neither of us totally trusting or even liking the other, but there’s a strange respect building. “Merry Christmas.”

********************************************************************

Willow is Jewish and I am Wiccan. But actually we celebrate as many holidays as we can. Winter Solstice. Yule. Hanukah. And Christmas. It is Christmas morning and she has woken early, I can hear her padding around the room. I know she is trying to be quiet. She’s like a little kid though, anxious for everyone in the household to awaken so that we can all open our presents. But Willow, she’s almost more excited at the thought of people opening the presents she has gotten them, then opening the ones that people have gotten for her. It’s only been a couple of days since we have been back together. She is my Christmas gift.

It’s strange and familiar, being with her again. It feels odd sharing clothes and a bathroom, and a bed. It’s unbelievable to be able to reach out and touch her whenever I want to. She’s right there, right in front of me. This is not a dream, this is real. She’s real and I am learning to trust her again. Or maybe I am learning to trust my own heart again, to follow its lead and not be afraid that I will be led into disaster.

I open my eyes and watch her. She’s sitting on the floor with a large volume in her lap. She’s been reading a lot on demons and artifacts lately, or so she’s told me. Willow is trying to study, but she keeps looking at the clock. Her hair is slightly ruffled and her highlighter pen is making a tapping sound against the carpet. I can’t hold back a smile.

She feels my eyes on her. Sometimes that happens between us. Sometimes before I come into a room, she just knows that I am going to. Sometimes I just suddenly know that she is looking at me or thinking about me.

Our eyes meet and I feel an instant connection. I am drawn into her eyes, unable to look away. This is real. It’s Christmas morning and I’m here with her.

“Merry Christmas, Tara.” She says.

Our smiles are both huge now as I return the words. “Merry Christmas, Willow.”

I move out of bed, still sharing the mutual stare. I move to my knees before her and look at the book. I can’t read all of the title immediately. It’s Latin. I can’t resist the pull of my lover’s gaze, I am magnetized back to staring into her eyes. We can’t help what happens next.

Willow’s hands move to the carpet so that she can balance herself as she leans forward. Her mouth claims mine. She is aggressive and confident, and it is a hungry kiss that starts as an inferno and maintains the hissing, crackling heat. She challenges me to match her need and I do. She dares me to deny what she does to me, and I can’t. Soon our tongues are flirting with one another, exploring leisurely - tracing everywhere. I am nibbling at her mouth and sucking, and the kiss grows bolder. Our tongues are tangling, then writhing against one another as we seek to plunge deeper. We both groan into the kiss. This has happened often the last couple of days. We keep getting swept away by one another. She runs the tip of her tongue over the center of my parted lips, flicking there. I love when she does that and she knows it. She knows what it does to me. The flush of heat that runs over me is wild. It courses down my body and I cling to her. I know we should stop. I don’t want it to stop. Not yet. Not just yet.

She knows me. Goddess, how she knows me. Her fingers are sliding down my back and I am suddenly her violin and at my lower back she plays and my strings hum. Her mouth is commanding the pace. Slow and teasing like two lovers moving together in a slow dance. Fast and deep, so carnal that we are two beasts devouring one another. She changes the pace again. Slow again. Then fast. And all I can think is that I love her. And then it’s just her name ringing over and over in my head. She is the lighthouse, leading me home and she is the storm that is tossing and turning me, threatening to drown me.

I need her. I need her hands. I press into her and we both moan. She is rolling me beneath her and she shivers as she moves atop me. We are both gasping for air. I feel heat so intense that it is radiating off me in waves. I am so hot that I almost feel faint, but at the same time I feel so alive, so conscious of every movement my lover makes. Her fingertips are skimming the edge of my breast. The touch is tentative, and uncertain.

“Yes.” I sigh against her mouth and finally her hand covers me, and under that first fledgling, still uncertain touch my hardening nipple aches so much that it is almost unbearable. “More.” I groan.

My mind is chanting her name again. This time in rapid succession to match my pounding heart. She touches me, her fingertips rolling slowly as she watches me. My thighs part and I am liquid for her.

It takes a moment to register that someone is knocking - no - make that… BANGING on our door. Willow blinks and our eyes lock. We are both still fighting for breath. Her hand is still on me. She licks her suddenly dry lips. I am hoping that I was just imagining the noise. The banging comes again.

“Willow? Tara?” comes a loud voice. It’s Dawnie.

It is followed by the voice of her older sister. “Anya and Xander are here. Anya apparently has embraced the idea of Christmas and couldn’t wait to get to her presents.” Buffy raised her voice. “Imagine her surprise when she finds only coal.” Then more conversationally. “If I have to be up, you two have to be up. Burning daylight here, people.”

I close my eyes and I feel Willow gently rest her brow to mine. “You’re sure the sending them to an alternate universe for a couple of hours is a bad idea?”

I laugh, albeit shakily. She steals another kiss, one that is gentle and lingering.

“We have time.” I whisper. Her green eyes light up and she gives me a dazzling smile.

I love her. I caress her face. She moves, pulling me to my feet. We squeeze one another’s hands and reluctantly head to the door.


*********************************************************************

Willow’s thoughts:

It’s only been two days and I am beginning to wonder how we lasted this long. We keep trading all these looks and all these little touches and I know it doesn’t sound like a big deal, but it really is. The thing is that I can’t stop myself from giving her the little looks and touches. I mean, I guess I could leave. But it’s Christmas, and outside? Brrr. Plus, Dawn, Buffy and the others would never forgive me. Still, technically leaving is an option. Tara is across the room, playing fashion advisor to Anya. The ex-demon got clothes from everyone. Except Xander, who just gave us a little smile and told us that he had given her present number one before they had come over and he would give her the other present later. I’m hoping, REALLY hoping that’s not some sort of sex reference, but when I look at how dreamy-eyed Anya gets, I decide it’s probably not - at least not overtly. And I’m suddenly jealous. Because this thing with Tara and I is so new again and I want us to be the ones exchanging dreamy looks. Xander’s my best friend, though, so I really do want him to be happy, which he seems to be.

But is it wrong for me to want ‘dreamy Tara.’ I’m kicking myself here because I know I should be patient. Like, up in the bedroom. Hello? PATIENCE, Willow! I am trying. I should be protective. I know she’s not ready. We probably aren’t ready. It’s been six months and it’s not like you can just jump back into old habits after six months. I don’t think you can, anyway.

I sigh at myself. My mind is moving a mile a minute. Sometimes my mind moves so fast, trying to analyze so much that it makes me tired. That’s how I feel now. I just want to do the right thing in her eyes. But I realize I’m still afraid. After everything how could I possibly be afraid? What on earth is there left to be afraid of?

Anyway it’s pretty much the usual Christmas in the Buffy household. Except that Giles isn’t here. He did send presents though and he promised he would call later. But there’s a tree and lots and lots of presents - well there were presents - now there is just mostly torn wrapping paper. Buffy, Tara and Dawn have saved my present to open till last. Because they know that is my favorite part and they like torturing me. But that’s okay, because I love them and because this wonderful, intelligent blonde keeps walking by me and touching my shoulders. If tradition holds, later will be the big Scoobie Christmas brunch. Tara is the resident cook nowadays and if ANYONE thinks they are getting MY girlfriend to cook for them before Tara opens my gift, they are a few eggs short of a dozen. I know how much the Scoobies like to eat, so I am thinking time is on my side.

Tara is drinking hot tea across the room while she listens to Anya prattle on, and she catches my eye. We shared a small smile that has so much electricity running through it that it makes my tummy do flip-flops. How can she do that to me after all this time? Aren’t feelings like that supposed to fade and become comfortable? I like that it never has. I love that even after two years, it’s all still so new.

Dawn calls our attention to the fact that she is opening our gift. Tara and I gather around her. Out of all of us, she has made out like a bandit. She and Buffy are the only Scoobies that got a gift from BOTH of us. We had decided to give one gift to Dawn as a show of solidarity.

The whole present for Dawn question had led to many hours of discussion between Tara and I. We decided on something both practical and kind of cool.

“Cell phone!” Dawn cried joyously. She almost bowls over my lover with a hug. Then she turns the same jubilation on me. I’m thrilled at this reaction. I still CAN be teenager cool when I to be.

“Dawnie,” Tara said in her best motherly tone. “We have you paid up for six months. After that, you are on your own.”

We had used a brand spanking new credit card to accomplish this. In my name.

Buffy gave a little pout. “Gadgets. She got gadgets. I want gadgets.”

“Open your present, Buffy.” I encouraged and when she did, she found another cell phone just like Dawn’s. Different colors of course, but other wise identical. We did get Buffy a cell phone holster too. Mostly because I got this image of an old western in my head when I thought of Buffy and a cell phone. And again, credit. In Tara’s name. We promised one another we would visit one another in Debtor's prision if it comes to it. “Happy Slayer?” I ask Buffy.

“Happy Slayer.” Buffy confirms and then gives Tara and I a hug.

“Have you opened Tara’s present yet?” Dawn asks me. She can barely hold still, she’s practically dancing in place. She knows something. The others have kind of formed a half circle around me. They all have twinkling eyes and little smiles. It’s a conspiracy. They all know something.

The woman I love meekly comes forward holding up a small package tied with a little bow. It is my theory that there are ‘wrappers’ and ‘non-wrappers’ when it comes to gifts. Tara’s gifts always are wrapped smoothly and have bows with the little curly things on the end. Mine always come out lumpy and are held together by lots of scotch tape. I sit down with the gift in my hands and she takes the place next to me. I stare into her eyes a moment. The Scoobies gather around us. I carefully unwrap the present even though what I really want to do is tear into it like there is no tomorrow. But there’s a law or something about really nicely wrapped presents and you can’t do that.

I find a small white box, and slowly lift off the lid. I don’t care what’s in it. My baby has gotten me a gift. MY. Baby. I never thought she would be mine again. I hoped, but I don’t think I ever really believed it. Yet it’s true, here she is, sitting next to me with soft glowing eyes. I could just sit here and watch her all day. That could be my present and I’d be happy.

I look down to the box in my hand and see a small nickel shaped pendant made of oak. It has been varnished and is hanging on a small silver chain. I lift the pendant up. There is a picture of two swans on one side and the image of a moon on the other.

“It’s from our tree. The… the oak tree. You know, the blue one?”

“Aww, baby, did you have to hurt it?” I’m worried more for her than the tree. I know how she feels about nature.

I can tell she is pleased that I asked. “I gave it something. It’s not much. But it will live a little longer in it’s natural life.” She takes in a deep breath. Tara is so adorably nervous and I love her more than I ever have. She turns the wood over in my hand and traces the swans. “I carved… it’s a symbol of… an unending promise. Swans… mate for life.” Our gazes are only for one another now. A lump rises in my throat and it’s all I can do to nod and not break down into tears. I want to fall into her arms. She gently turns the coin shaped wood piece over. “The moon… I want you to remember who you are, Willow, How strong you are.”

In Tara's eyes, I am like the moon. That's what she thinks of me. I am never taking this pendant off. No one has ever seen me the way she does. When she looks at me, I know that the person she sees is not lacking. She thinks I’m extraordinary, and while I am not sure I agree, being with her gives me the courage to try and be that person. This kind hearted, beautiful, generous woman has chosen me. I have been given a gift, such a gift.

“I love you.” I say. The words never pass my mind, they jump straight to my lips from my heart much too quickly for my brain to voice an opinion. “Help me try it on?”

She moves behind me and gently, carefully lifts the hair from my neck. She settles the silver necklace over my throat. My fingers hold the pendant as she secures the clasp. I turn back to her. “I love it.”

One of her lip corners lift in a wide, crooked little grin. I move to embrace her, sighing happily into her neck. She squeezes my shoulders and keeps me close. I want to kiss her, but kissing her the way I want to right now would be a bad idea in front of the others. We both feel it, that intense longing to be alone. I can see it in her dusk blue eyes when we part. My eyes echo the same feeling back to hers. My doubts try to rise. The ones that tell me we should be waiting, that I should be more protective of her, that we should take it slow. For the moment I am not listening and the electricity is crackling between us. Buffy intervenes, wanting to see my new necklace.

“It’s lovely.” She tells Tara and I gently.

“I think it’s romantic.” Dawn says.

I slip an arm around Dawnie’s shoulders. “I think so too.” I have made my girl smile at me again and my heart feels full and light all at the same time.

I realize that Tara still hasn’t opened my gift and I take her hand and pull her towards the stairs. “Wait! Wait! My present! Come on.” I am not sure that made any sense at all but she seems to get it and follows me, just as the rest of the gang does.

I pull out a chair at the desk and sit down right in front of my laptop. The love of my life raises a curious brow at me. My grin grows mischievous and I pat my lap. She raises both her brows now, but moves to obey the silent questions. She folds her delicate weight against mine and I motion toward the screen, manipulating the mouse with the hand that is not holding Tara close.

Her expression is both openly interested and curious. “So,” I begin nervously. “You know how you keep saying that you aren’t a computer person? And how you started acting all Gilesy and calling p.c.’s ‘contraptions’?” I point the button to a ‘T’ icon on the desktop of the computer and double-click. Three windows pop open. “See?” I am trying not to sound half as proud of this as I feel. It took me weeks to program. “One stop shopping. This one… well it’s your page. A Tara page. See? There’s pictures of you… and us. And I made it so that in the background, it will list the time and date of when Animal Planet and those gardening shows you like are on television. And there’s a little biography of you through well… now. And if you click on the Tara time-line…” I demonstrated this for her. “See? That’s baby Tara and then three year old Tara, and… well I kind of went a bit crazy with the pictures, but let’s just say that your life is well represented. I scanned in some of your favorite poems too. There’s links - there’s a bunch of Wiccan links sorted in alphabetical order. And some sites on horses and even some things for your more academic pursuits. And here… see this button? It’s actually linked back to the hard drive and you click it and all your favorite songs are on it. I admit, I went overboard again… there’s a good six hours worth of mp3’s. And then see? The third window. I’m still working on it, but I have been scanning in spells. You can do searches for whatever you are looking for. I figured if you are gonna be the big witchy woman now that you should have one helluva database.” I can’t read her expression and she hasn’t said anything all through my ramble, so naturally - I start to panic. “I know it’s not much, but you have the whole we don’t spend money on gifts for one another rule and I programmed it all myself.”

She kisses me long and soft. I manage to quiet. Suddenly Tara’s expression as she gazes at me can only be described as dreamy.

Again we pull one another close, we hold each other. This is real. We’re together. We draw apart and notice the other Scoobies again. They are grinning wildly. Happy for us. Xander winks at me. Dawn kisses both our foreheads.

We’re a family and we’re finally complete again.

Tara’s thoughts -

That night, I feel like I can’t get upstairs with Willow fast enough. Yet I notice that there is a hesitation in Willow. She follows me up the stairs, but when she comes into our room and closes the door behind her, what I see is a kind of resignation. I don’t understand it.

I take her hands. “You look like you’re having deep thoughts.”

“I’m thinking about you.” She answers, squeezing my hands. She draws in a deep breath. “I need you to know how much I love you, and how much I want you.” Her fingertips are playing with mine. “It’s just… it’s been two days. I feel like my body is racing way ahead and if I let it do that, I’m not taking care of you. I know you’re still afraid. I just want to take it slow. I want… I want it to be your decision.”

I feel ready. I feel more then ready. My mind begins to churn. Maybe she’s right. Maybe in order to take care of one another, we should wait a bit longer. But there’s something else there too, there’s a fear in her voice. It is that more than anything that convinces me she is right.

“It’s all up to you, Tara.”

“Do you still want me to stay here?” I know how difficult that might make this new agreement.

Her expression is vulnerable. “I love waking up next to you. I’m not a morning person, but when we started you know, being together, and when I got to wake up… I look forward to that now. I’ve missed it. I want that feeling. For as long as I can have it. ”

She’s never said that to me before. I have always liked the mornings, but she makes my world feel filled with color and warmth, she makes it spring. I have felt so cold for six months and suddenly everything in me is alive again. “You know, snuggles wouldn’t be a bad thing right now.”

Willow gives a devilish grin. “Well they’re a close second.” I laugh even as she leads me to bed. We talk all night. It’s Christmas and I am home.

Legends of the Kiss part 9
By Mariacomet

It has been close to three weeks. I am not sure what the final moment of decision for me was. It occurred to me last night as we were snuggled up, watching Animal Planet how safe I felt. My heart feels utterly secure and unworried. I’m in love, and yes she has a problem. We all have problems. That doesn’t mean that they have to consume us. Maybe I was placed in her life to help her fight. Maybe she was brought to me to shatter the quiet, shadowed world I once lived in, and help me create another. Because before there was only surviving, and now there is living. I want to live with her and I will. I will.

She doesn’t know what I am planning. She’s at the Magic Box for now. I asked Buffy to have her do some ‘research’ for a bit. It’s curious how willing the Scoobies are to follow through on requests like that. Buffy gave me a grin and told me she was taking Dawn to a movie tonight. You know, just in case Willow and I wanted to be alone or something.

The room – our room – is covered with candles: white ones, light pink, a hotter pink, silver, and red. I honestly am not sure how much I believe in the ‘color’ powers of differing candles, but I believe in the traditions of my religion. Plus, I think these colors are very pretty. The room is actually bright with the light of flame. I look down at myself.

I am wearing a long white, silk gown and over it I have on a light blue kimono. It was an anniversary present from Willow some time ago. I am nervous. I tie and untie the wrap around the kimono. It occurs to me that I am not sure whether I should be standing or not when Willow comes in. Maybe lying on the bed? Is that unromantic and obvious?

Okay, okay… breathe. It’s just Willow. It’s just us. I hear footsteps bounding up the stairs and feel a new rush of nerves, as well as a detonation of happiness. I know it’s Willow and when the door to our room opens, I prepare a bright smile.

Willow enters and blinks at me, then blinks at the candles.

“Whoa.” She says. She stays frozen at the doorway and swallows slowly. Her emerald eyes travel up and down my body. She is still taking everything in. Her eyes are darting around and then back to me. I see her take in a breath, a deep, nervous breath. “So… is this an early New Year’s Eve thing?”

“Remember how you said how long we waited was up to me?” She nods. I motion my hands in something akin to a small ‘ta-da’ motion. “I mean unless you don’t…unless you’re not…”

She rushes to fill the gaps in my words. “I am. I do. As long as you are.”

“I am.” So that’s it. It’s settled. But neither of us moves. We are still standing there a good two minutes later.

“This is silly.” Willow says.

“Right. It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

“Right. Lots of times, and sometimes with props!” We both blush and then laugh a little.
I have had this all planned in my head but I need something from her before I have the confidence to go on. I am as self aware as anyone, but I am finding it hard to place what I need. “Sorry… that was… when I have time to prepare, I’m much more suave. But this is…” From the top of my head and down to where the gown stops, my body is traced with her eyes. Her expression is one of adoration. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I never thought I was, until I met you.”

“You are.” Willow reaffirms. “You’re so beautiful you break my heart.” The words are a whisper.

I shake my head and finally move to her. “No more broken hearts.” I say and take her hand. I bring it to my lips, placing a kiss at the center of her palm. I pull her lightly toward the bed, and she follows. I lead her to sit down. I stand and move to the bureau. This is where the dance starts. I try and steady my heartbeat, then turn and move back to my love. In my hand is a sprig of mistletoe. The same one that she told me Anya gave to her for free when she purchased the book of legends. I sit down beside her on the bed. She instantly notices that I have something in my grasp. My love has ever the sharp mind.

“Mistletoe?” She asks, and her lips bloom into an anything but innocent smile.

I look into her eyes, knowing that mine are glowing low and sultry. “I thought we might play a game.” My fingertips are slowly skimming down her white billowing shirt.

“Like Monopoly?” She murmurs and when my fingers start to pull her shirt up, she helps me, revealing her skin in one easy movement.

My expression is impish. I lean forward and nuzzle her neck and am inhaling her flowery scent and feeling her warm skin. My body responds instantly. It becomes hypersensitive, it has sensed its mate. It is supercharged with recognition. My body isn’t the only one. I feel her shoulders hitch and her breath shudder out of her. My hand finds hers again and I lay the mistletoe in the center of her palm. I place my lips next to her ear. “Show me where you want me to kiss you.”

I have made it into something of a game. I thought it might make it easier on both of us this first time. But the anticipation is already ripe and tingling between us. I want her to pull me under her and ravish me till we can’t feel separated ever again. I want her to let the game continue. I want things to be slow, and I need them to be fast. My body and heart are like waves conflicting and crashing inside me. I am quivering, on the edge of a passion that is much greater than I am.

She has promised me that this – this moment – is all up to me. It is her way of protecting me. I see that hesitation in her eyes, the conflict between what she wants and what she thinks is the right thing to do. She touches the mistletoe to her chin and then her cheek; my mouth follows obediently. Willow stays with shy touches for some time. She tries to reach out and pull me to her, but I catch her wrists. I lay her down and lift her hands above her head, kissing down her arm and whispering to her again. “Let me.”

Willow can’t stay still. “I need you to kiss me.” I love the husky sound in her voice. I can still make her feel this way. Me. Her Tara.

I feel a tender pride at being able to give her that. She has given me care of everything. Her heart, her body and we are trying to share our souls. “Ask me.” I answer her.

She lifts the mistletoe to her lips and I obey. I kiss her, and it’s sweet and hot. Our mouths mesh, clinging and needy. I want her. I have always wanted her and it rushes over me. I wanted her every day for six months. I wanted her the first time I saw her. I wanted her while I watched her sleeping last night, and when she waved hello to me at breakfast. I wanted only her – her skin on mine, her arms, her mouth. I want to drown in her, in this, in us.

Her head falls back, and her neck arches as she runs the mistletoe down the column on her neck. She is my flame. My tongue follows where she leads me. I taste her neck, I suckle the line where her pulse flutters. I let my teeth tease the skin. I find her sensitive spots all over again. I remember what makes her moan. I find her, I find her with my body and my heart. Her thighs are rubbing together and I lower my head to where the mistletoe has been stalled.

I take the mistletoe and allow it to fall away, discarded. The game is over and we are both in earnest. She is my flame, and she is the only thing that can keep me warm. I feed on her nipples. I know just how soft she likes my mouth. My tongue traces her, flicks rhythmically. She grows swollen under my ministrations, which is what I want. I want to be able to taste more of her. I pay equal attention to the other nipple, and she tenses and then arches wildly.

“Tara.” She sighs. She finally touches me. My hair and my shoulders are worshipfully caressed. Everything in me is pushing for me to move faster. I know what I want. I know what we both want. I trail kisses down her stomach. I part her thighs.

My mouth moves over her and I shape her, making her hard and smooth. She is a berry and I am greedy for the taste of her juices. I am thirsty for her. At the same time I want to feed on her, suckle at the essence of her desire. My mouth is cleverer than I am and my tongue moves, and my mouth pulls. All at once I am asking, and demanding. I need her to need me. I need her to burn while I am the wick, anchoring her. Fire is translucent at it’s center. I am the center. She flutters in answer to my will, like a dance. Her fingers run into my hair, holding me there.

The strokes of my mouth are long and slow, tracing her as well as licking. She parts her legs wider and her legs wrap around me. She is cocooned around me and I am worshipping her vulnerability. I circle, letting her feel the wet heat of my mouth, teasing her nerve endings. She lifts to me and all at once I take her in deeply. My mouth contracts around her again and again.

I feel a sudden tension in Willow, feel a frustration. She is rising high, but she has reached a point and cannot seem to go higher. She can’t let go. She wants to, but something is holding her back. I paint her again with the tip of my tongue. I know that it is something deep in her mind that she is struggling with. That doesn’t stop my mouth from pulling at her more urgently. Her free hand curls into a fist near the pillow where her head lays.

“Tara,” She whispers in a questioning voice and I raise my head. I had forgotten this. My Willow had this need to establish connection. No matter how much she wants me, how close she is, she always makes me stop – just at that moment where she is about to lose control. Willow will caress my face, look into my eyes, and sometimes trade a soft kiss with me. She won’t settle for halfway, my love. She wants our souls to touch. To have our bodies drawing pleasure from one another isn’t enough, could never be enough. Willow wants it all. And she wants it all with me. And I am grateful.

“I love you,” I whisper to her and I nuzzle her which makes her groan. “I love you.” I say again and my tongue searches and becomes one with her. I move slowly. She gasps.

“Tara.” She calls. “I don’t know if I can…” I didn’t understand why she was having a hard time letting go before. But now I know. My hurdle was the bridge, but this one is hers. Being made love to her. Just her, being adored so completely – it’s something that makes her feel unsure. It’s the reason that she always stops and seeks that connection. It’s the silent asking of the question ‘Can you really love me? Can I really believe?’

I draw back, and I am soaked with her. I move atop her and now my fingers journey down to replace my mouth. My heart is cleverer than I am, and it knows what to do. I look into her eyes, sea-green and smoldering, even as I take her. I take her even as I give. I wish I could give her poetry, but my mind is not that lucid. Hearing her cries, and feeling her body beneath me is taking me to a place where she and I exist alone. Everything is wet heat, and pleasure, and endless. My body is my poem to her. My fingers spread my Willow tree and run over her blossom. Her back arches and her hips lift. She is moving with me, and I lose my place, not sure if I am leading the dance with my touches or if she is leading with her hungry thrusts. It doesn’t matter. I want what she wants. Everything she wants. I want to give it to her. I move faster.

She is my flame. My touches spark her. She is my flame. She twists and bends against the wick. She is my flame. She is unable to stop moving, her body swaying – pushing - seeking. “Tara.” She cries out.

She is my flame.

I can feel how she burns deep inside. I can feel everything. There are no secrets here. Nothing to hide, and even if there were, nothing that can be hidden. I know her. I know all of her. Still, I can feel her struggle to let go. A push and pull deep inside herself. I don’t stop. But my voice adds to the fire. The words make little sense; I barely realize I am saying them. Things I wouldn’t say in the light of day fall out of me effortlessly. Primal things.

“Tell me you belong to me, Willow.” She can only say my name, so I slow and circle. I tease. Her stomach is rippling as she struggles for breath. I can feel her heart pounding against my skin. “Tell me you belong to me.”

“I belong to you, Tara. Always.” She moans and I am deep inside again, deeper than before.

My lips at her ear and my words felt like ancient truths that I cannot hold back. “And I, belong to you. I belong with you. Always.” I am her guide up this path, and I will not stop moving. The pace quickens again. “Always.” I whisper again. The words become a measurement of tempo. “Always.” She opens more to me and I lose myself in her – she is my world. “Always.” We are both crying out in pleasure. I am kissing down to her shoulders, and her skin is so hot, and her cheeks are so flushed. And I missed this. I missed this so much. “Always.” It’s a promise and I can’t think. I can only feel. I’m not in control and I know it, and neither is she and I rejoice in it. It just is. It is us and it just is. “Always, Willow.” I moan. It was the way I am saying her name now that she needed. She needed me to be swept away, as helpless and awestruck as she was. My voice is so rough and tender that I barely recognized it. She shudders and I can feel her control slipping, wavering.

She is my flame and my one purpose – my sole purpose in the universe at this moment – is to keep feeding the fire.

“Yes, baby.” I call to her. A request and a demand. “I love you Willow.” Again, her body answers me. She moves harder. Her head is grinding back and forth on the pillow. She is trying to keep her eyes open, trying to keep looking at me, but she is being taken beyond conventional senses.

“Baby, don’t stop.” She can barely say the words.

“Don’t stop loving you?” I ask and I feel her fingernails dig very lightly into my back. I shiver at the feeling. “Never.” I lower my head and run kisses over her chin. “Don’t stop wanting you?” She is shaking and my fingertips glide and find every place that I know makes it impossible for her to hold on, to hold back. “Never.”

“Tara.” She whispers. “I need…”

“I know. I’m here. That’s it.” I coax her like a wild beast and her body is beginning to jerk. Her movements are no longer rhythmic. She’s beautiful. She’s my gift from the heavens, and her rain is on my hand. “My everything.” She presses her lips to mine urgently and her body jerks hard. Again. And Again. Her mouth claims mine, and she makes sounds inside the kiss, she tells me without words that she is falling. Willow tells me she needs me to catch her, and believes with all her heart that I will. I do. I catch her. I hold her close. I keep her safe. In that moment, I am the guardian of her soul. It is like being entrusted with the care and feeding of starlight.

She is my flame, and the fire burns and rages, and devours. Over and over. Until finally, beneath me she is still and I am hugging her close. Swept away by the sound of her heartbeat and the tender whisper of my name on her lips.


[This message has been edited by mariacomet (edited March 11, 2002).]

[mariacomet]

Rating: NC 17.

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.

Comments: HERE-IN lies...er...MORE SMUT. I just don't know what's happened to me. I used to be so innocent. You have been warned.

This is the END of LOTK. More fan fic soup abrewing on the high seas though.

Legends of the Kiss part 9 b
By Mariacomet

“You know in Willow’s defense…” The slayer began. The mood had been tense and stifled since Spike and Xander had carried Willow in just a little while earlier.

They had been patrolling and had been ambushed. Vampires lieing in wait, looking to do a number on the Slayer and her friends. Everyone had fought, but the vampires had planned things well. A moment in the battle came where all of the good guys had been knocked to the ground. Everyone save Willow. The former witch had begun to cast. From where she lay cradling an injured leg, Tara had shouted at Willow to stop, but it had been too late. The vampires were turned to dust one at a time as Willow’s power enveloped them. The hacker had collapsed then, and the stunned Scoobies had gathered around her crumpled form wordlessly.

After they had gotten Willow home. Tara had needed to get away. She couldn’t bear to see…and now Buffy had come to find her. To check on her.

“Buffy, please don’t,” Tara began in too harsh a tone. She took in a deep breath to steady herself. “I’m sorry, I just…I don’t want to hear anyone defending Willow right now.”

“Tara, I know you don’t want to hear it, but she saved our lives.”

The wiccan had her resolve face on. Her chin lifted slightly, stubbornly. “No. No, that’s…We’ve been in worse situations. Yes, our lives were in danger, but why is that different from yesterday or the day before that or the day before that. She didn’t have to cast. We hadn’t tried everything else. It was just a few vampires. She didn’t have to cast.”

Buffy nodded slowly and looked down, seeming to acknowledge that Tara was right. “I know.”

“Why? Why now?” It had only been a month. Just one month since Tara had come home.

The slayer continued to look down, deep in thought. “Maybe she needed to know you won’t ditch her the first time she screws up.”

Tara wiped at her eyes. She had ignored the welling of tears for as long as she could. “A test?”

“I don’t know, Tare.’” The former answered and laid a hand on the wiccan’s shoulder. “I think she lives in fear of it. Willow’s smart and she knows she’s gonna screw up eventually. What she doesn’t know is if you’re going to be there after she does.”

“I left her before because she wouldn’t quit not because she made a mistake.” Tara insisted.

“I know that. And so does Willow. I’m not saying you did anything wrong. You helped Willow stay strong. Just the thought of being with you. It was what gave her hope. But she asked me once who you loved…Super Willow or just Willow. I know she screwed up today. And I feel like shaking her too. But I also want to hug her. And I think that second option is what she really needs. And what she’s afraid she’s lost.”

The thought of Willow being afraid of losing something so basic made her heart clench. “She hasn’t lost me.”

Buffy’s expression said that she knew that, but she was still worried about her friend. “She didn’t say a word when Xander and Spike carried her upstairs. Dawn brought her some water.”

“I just needed a minute. Her eyes were black and she…I just needed a minute.”

Buffy took a step closer and gave Tara an encouraging hug. “She’s going to be okay. She just slipped.”

Tara nodded and returned the hug. She broke away a moment later. “We should go up.”

“You want to go alone or…?”

“No, we should all go. Could you get the others?”

Buffy nodded and slipped back inside the house. Tara took in a deep breath and started up the stairs. She moved slowly, as if in a dream until finally she pushed open the door their room. Willow was curled in the fetal position, her whole body absorbed with shaking. The blonde sat on the edge of the bed. The addict lifted her head briefly, but quickly lowered her head again, seeing who was now at her side. Willow pulled her arms tighter against her chest, hugging herself.

Tara carefully reached out and smoothed a strand of hair away from her lover’s face. The redhead closed her eyes tightly, a tear falling down her smooth cheek as she did so. At the doorway, the Scoobies appeared. Xander, Dawn, Anya and Buffy moved inside the room and surrounded the bed. Xander reached forward and took his oldest friend’s hand, even while Buffy sat on the other side on her, patting her back. Many times they had failed one another. Become too caught up in their own lives, and were too blind, too foolish to realize that a friend in need was in front of them. Yet at that moment, they bonded together over the redhead. They let her know she was forgiven, and most important of all, they let her know she was loved. They stayed for a long time like that, touching her reassuringly without saying much.

“I’m sorry.” Willow finally managed though the words had been building in her throat for some time.

“It’s okay, Will.” Buffy said quietly. “We’re all here.”

When the addict began to shake and sweat, Tara asked them to leave Willow to her rest. They slowly obeyed, each promising they would check on their friend soon.

When they left, Tara walked to the door. Again, Willow lifted her head and watched. “I’m sorry Tara. I know I let you down.”

The blonde slowly began to undress. “Shhh. We’ll talk about it later.” She moved toward the bed, slipping from the rest of her clothes in a graceful movement then sliding under the covers. Her arms came around Willow, her warm bare skin soothing and inviting. The hacker let out a shaky exhale, trying to relax in the circle of love that Tara was offering.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shhh.” Tara said again, and kissed her lover’s temple.

But Willow couldn’t be quiet, there was a question desperately pounding in her heart. “Tara, are you g-going to l-l-leave me?”

Another kiss touched the hacker’s shoulder. “I’m right here.”

“B-but tomorrow…”

Tara squeezed her lover tenderly. “Tomorrow is tomorrow. I’m not happy about what you did today, but we all have bad days. If that’s all today was, then I can handle that. I love you Willow. You don’t have to be prefect. You can screw up. You can slip and fall, and I’m still going to love you.”

“Y-you s-aid you had to leave. Before.” When they had first reached the house, all Tara could see was the black-eyes and the still deep red dark energy still tainting Willow’s aura.

“Just for a minute.” She felt guilty as she said it. She should have been braver and stayed. “It scares me.”

“N-never hurt you.”

Tara ran her fingertips into Willow’s hair, stroking there as she confessed what was in her heart. “I’m afraid for you. It’s…it’s so strong. When you cast, I feel the darkness all around you…It stands between you and everything. It comes from so deep inside you and I see it threaten to take over. ”

“W-won’t lose me.” The redhead insisted. Her brow had broken into a cold sweat and her whole body ached. ““I can’t st-stop shaking. I f-forgot how b-bad it was. It’s going to g-get w-w-worse.”

Tara turned Willow so that her lover faced her. Her fingers glided over Willow’s upper back. She kissed her lover’s lips once, then again. “You hold onto me, darling.” Tara whispered. Willow tried to relax, hugging Tara close and allowing her eyes to flutter shut. A spasm wracked her body just a moment later but Tara held her and spoke softly, lovingly to her until it ended.

***************************************************************


“Hey, hey, she looks almost lifelike.” Xander commented, seeing Willow descend down the stairs, for once fully dressed instead of in a bathrobe. For three days, she had gone through an agonizing withdrawal. She hadn’t been able to keep anything down, and the shakes had been horrible. The hot and cold flashes weren’t exactly pleasant either. Nor were the spasms where her entire body clenched for minutes at a time. Tara had been with her almost every second. The rest of the gang had stuck close by as well. Even Anya had seemed concerned, which actually had freaked Willow out a little.

Dawn, Buffy and Xander were seated at the kitchen table. They had been talking animatedly before their friend had come in, but now all focus was on Willow.

“How you doing, Will?” Buffy asked. She was trying to sound causal. They all were, but it was forced.

“Magic bad. Willow good. Instead of feeling like a semi hit me, now I feel like it was just a souped up pinto.” She noted that where her adopted family was sitting were loads of crumpled paper balls. Dawn had a pen in hand, in hover mode. “What are you guys doing? Please don’t tell me all of that is to fight a demon.” She picked up one of the paper balls pointedly. “Because that would be…”

“It’s actually for you.” Buffy said, cutting off the beginning of patented Willow ramble. Willow’s good cheer was as forced as their casualness. The truth was that the redhead was nervous – nervous they would be mad at her and feeling more than just a little guilty.

“We’re on draft twenty.” Dawn filled in. “Draft one through five was written by Buffy. But no one can read her handwriting.”

“And it was decided that I am barely literate.” Xander piped up. “This after, I kept using the number 2 for too and the letter ‘u’ for…well you get the idea.”

“So…so you’re writing about me?” She tried to make her voice sunny and bright and failed miserably.

“Not about. More like to. It’s…Maybe we should read it to her?” Dawn suggested and the three friends at the table exchanged glances.

“Go ahead, Dawn.” Buffy finally said.

Dawn lifted a piece of paper and began to read. “I, Buffy Summers, Xander Harris, Anya Soon to be Harris - um, we called her and she made us put her name that way…Tara Mclay, and Dawn Summers – family and fellow slayerettes of Willow Rosenberg herby do wish to make our will known with regards to the following.

Whereas, Willow has made a conscious choice to stop practicing magic as it is an addiction for her and leads to all kinds of bad things; not limited to but including breakups, broken things and black scary eyes. And whereas We, Buffy Summers, Xander Harria, Anya Soon to be Harris, Tara McClay and Dawn Summers do love and cherish the party of the first part, that being the ex-witch in question, we acknowledge that we support her decision. We further want to say that after lengthy discussion we realize that supporting that decision, and supporting her means that there can be no half ways. Some of us have been guilty of this in the past, and it’s selfish and foolhardy. We don’t want her to have to question what it is that we want her to do at a key moment. Willow Rosenberg is not just a tool against darkness; she is above all our friend and family. We don’t want any confusion as to where we stand. Our will in state of dire emergency, or even death, is for Willow Rosenberg to not implement magic in any form. Above all else, we want her to stay true to herself, no matter what the price. Signed, the aforementioned party of the second part. And…well Tara and Anya need to sign but we…”

Willow had never moved so fast in her life. In an instant, she had crossed the kitchen and enveloped her three friends in a crushing hug. They smiled and embraced one another tightly.

“I’m sorry.” Willow said finally in a quiet voice.

“Honey, I told you that you’re not allowed to say that anymore.” Tara had come upon the scene but had remained quiet till now so as not to intrude.

“Tara!” Dawn greeted with a large grin. She held up the pen in her hand. Everyone she loved, well with the exception of one blonde broody vampire and one very capitalist shop keeper was here. And she had just been soley entrusted with the writing of what Xander referred to as the ‘Willow Constitution.’ So far, it had been a good morning. With half a grin, the wiccan advanced took the pen and signed the paper with a flourish.

The redhead tilted her head to one side and stared for a long time at her partner, her lips slowly beginning to lift in a fully appreciative smile. Blue eyes caught green and electricity sparked back and forth between them. Tara mouthed ‘I love you’ to her partner.

Dawn looked between the two women. “Um, Xander and Buffy…I need to go to school.”

“You have like a half hour. And I was going to have another bowl of cereal.”

“I have to be there early.” Dawn said cutting him off.

Xander and Buffy gave her a long look. Dawn returned the look with a big eyed ‘do as I say. NOW.’ expression.

“Um, right…” Then Buffy realized, seeing how the Tara and Willow were smiling at one another. “Oh, right! To school with us.”

Both the Summers’ women hauled Xander to the door and then out. “Hey…easy…easy.”
Xander muttered as they exited.

Willow slowly walked toward her lover. She hadn’t been able to stop staring at Tara, not even for the second it would have taken to bid her friends goodbye. The blonde nervously smoothed a wisp of hair behind her ear. The way that Willow was staring at her was making her heart race. It was still so intense between them, so wonderfully new. Willow carefully pushed her back against a kitchen counter. Tara smiled brilliantly and lifted her hand to rest over Willow’s heart.

“Your heart is racing.” The redhead ran the tip of her nose over Tara’s. “That’s cause you cast spells on me. On my heart. On my body. On my soul.” Her hands ran down, splaying over Tara’s hips. She let out a ragged breath as her body fitted itself perfectly to Tara’s form. Their eyes were still locked. Their chests were heaving. It was like lightning and rain suddenly coming over them, as quick and frantic as the most powerful kind of weather. A lazy, sharp ache was opening deep within them. It was making it impossible to catch a breath. “You make me helpless and strong all at once.” Willow’s hand skimmed over Tara’s thigh, then up. “I’m under your spell.”

“And I’m under yours.” Tara cried just as Willow’s hand found her. Carefully Willow lifted her lover unto the countertop, helping Tara ride her fingertips. The worry and frustration of the last few days culminating in urgent rising and falling. Their tongues flicked at one another, circling slowly, then pushing deep until to lighten and become bare touches again. Tara’s pace was frantic. She needed…she needed…more. Her legs wrapped around Willow tightly. Willow’s thumb found the center of her and rubbed slowly, firmly even as her fingers moved sure and deep. Tara’s hands all but tore at Willow’s shirt, pulling it off her shoulders and down, but unable to remove it entirely without pulling back. Her hands cupped Willow’s breasts, kneading them like fine clay.

Willow groaned deep in her throat and struggled to free herself of her blue jeans. “Upstairs?” Willow asked in moan as Tara’s hand moved between her thighs. They both gasped at how swollen and ready they were for one another.

“I need you Willow.” Tara said in a broken cry of passion, her hips still grinding down. “I love you so much.”

Willow suddenly couldn’t wait anymore either. The admission of love brought down all of her reserves. “Never leave me.” The redhead whispered half demanding, half pleading.

They sunk slowly to the kitchen floor. Willow pulled away her remaining clothing, all the while still trading deep fevered kisses. Again Tara’s legs rose to lock around Willow’s hips. They pushed into one another, their hands fumbling to entwine as one as they moved faster. Tara couldn’t get enough. She kept tugging Willow closer, drowning under the feel of Willow’s mouth, of her body. She needed and it was all she could think of while she arched her hips. Her fingernails raked lightly down Willow’s back.

“Never leave me .” Tara pleaded.

Willow slowed. They were both close, both feeling the crest inside them, the wave of passion about to reach the breaking point. They were both shivering. Willow needed to look into her lover’s eyes. She did and saw the world there. Their bodies met again and they clung to each other, whispering words of love as everything shattered but the feeling of holding one another. Everything fell away violently but love, yet love was more then enough, it anchored them. And when the storm passed, it gathered them together again.

[Bobos Mom]

Happy Yule, MC.



Thank you again for this wonderful story. I re-read it last night, knowing that your setting would be perfect for this time of year. This work was better the second time around, if that is possible.



Be well. Thanks for sharing your vision of our girls.

BM

*********


TARA: Willow and I always know how to find each other!


ANYA: With yoga?

[darkmagicwillow]

I love this story. The legend is simply beautiful. Tara's indecision is so incredibly suspenseful, and Willow's bravery in exposing all of herself to Tara is just wonderful. I was on the edge of my seat all the way through. The ending with Willow casting again and Tara accepting her despite that was great and just right, showing us that the pain was worth it as they have built solid foundations for their relationship.

--

"Omnia mutantur, nihil interit." -- "Everything changes, but nothing is truly lost."

[SilverWingedNemesis]

Just read this fic and...



WOW!!



I just LOVED IT!!





~NICK~

[mariacomet]

Wow, I haven't checked the completed fics in a long time. Old friends have written me. And where have I been? On the other side of the board! Bad writer!



Bobos Mom Speaking of old friends...

I feel really good that you decided to read my fic in what is absolutely one of my favorite times of year. I remember wanting to give the kittens a gift and tried very hard to make this story just that.



Then again, your kind words are a gift as well. Thank you...and although I'm getting back to you late - Happy Yule.



darkmagicwillow - I thought the end of Willow casting was essential too. I needed Tara to give Willow what Willow had given, I love that you were on the edge of your seat.



I often refer to my stories as a ride. It's maybe more of a wish than a reality. A ride is what I want my stories to be. A ride with an ending that justifies the journey. I'm never sure that I entirely get it 'perfect,' but your words make me believe that maybe I got close. Which is such a great feeling.

Thank you for taking the time to revisit this story.



SilverWingedNemesis - I'm way late on answering you, but...



This fic was a lot of fun...er...okay maybe not 'fun' to write but very rewarding to write. (Willowhell, as I came to call it, was NOT fun to write) Thank you for reading.

[Bookcat]

I wanted to thank you for writing this story. I just had a big argument with my mom and this story made me feel a lot better. So, thank you.

[DarkChild]

Wonderful. Simply wonderful. This definately goes onto my list of 'best fics ever'.