CHAPTER 16

 

Tara’s eyes skittered away from Buffy, tracing a random and rapid path over the kitchen counters, the cabinets, the floor tiles…

 

“Buffy, honey,” she heard Mrs. Summers say soothingly. “You need to get off Tara. You might hurt her.” In her wild visual wanderings, Tara saw a foot she assumed belonged to Mrs. Summers approach.

 

It was the wrong thing to do. Buffy sat back until she rested firmly on Tara’s stomach and growled. Tara felt the vibrations throughout her body.

 

The foot hesitated – and then came even closer. “Now, look, young lady. Tara is a guest in this house…” Whatever Mrs. Summers had been planning to say cut off with a sharp gasp as Buffy’s growl rose in volume. “Anyone have any other ideas? I don’t think I want to play Mean Mom at the moment.” The foot disappeared from Tara’s line of sight.

 

“I could take her out for ya’.” Was that a hint of anticipation in Faith’s voice? “B went down pretty easy outside the bar. All I gotta do is knock her off T and hit her a couple more times.”

 

Tara blocked out the rest of the conversation. Buffy had turned away from the others and was staring down at her. The normally hazel eyes looked…odd. The pupils were gone, and the irises appeared as a warm, nearly liquid copper. “T?” Buffy asked haltingly.

 

“Th-that’s what F-Faith calls m-me,” Tara stuttered. She really needed to move. Buffy’s warmth seeped into her, and Tara was deathly afraid Buffy would recognize her involuntary reaction. “Sw-sweetie, c-could you l-let m-me up? Pl-please?” she tacked on politely.

 

“Please,” Buffy echoed. With a wide smile, she gently touched Tara’s face. “Please!”

 

Wiggling carefully, Tara tried to scoot from beneath Buffy.  Although the other girl hadn’t done anything threatening, Tara remembered the growl. Buffy’s aura was still unstable. She wasn’t chancing an emotional explosion in such…intimate contact.

 

Buffy wasn’t cooperating. As soon as Tara began to move, she tightened her legs around Tara’s middle and frowned fiercely. “Girl no go,” she stated.

 

Tara froze – she didn’t have much choice. Buffy’s grip kept her effectively immobile. Not to mention the way her stare bore into Tara. “S-Sure, sw-sweetie. I’ll st-stay.” Tara hoped her agreement would appease Buffy.

 

“T, hang tight. I’ll slide closer,” Faith stage whispered. It wasn’t much of an effort at stealth. If Tara could hear the words, it was a safe bet Buffy could also. Over Buffy’s shoulder, Tara caught a slow, deliberate movement.

 

It was enough to alert Buffy. A hair-raising growl echoed through the kitchen.

 

Faith stopped, left foot frozen off the ground. “Fuck!”

 

Tara couldn’t help it. She giggled. This was like a really bad slapstick comedy – with her in a starring role. “Fa-Faith, st-stay there,” she warned. “B-Buffy doesn’t l-like it wh-when you m-move.” Hesitantly, she reached up and stroked Buffy’s right arm. “Easy, B-Buffy. N-nothing’s going to hu-hurt you.”

 

It was as if she’d flicked a switch. The second she touched Buffy, the growl stopped.

 

Wearing matching frowns of confusion, Buffy and Tara looked at one another. What was that all about? Tara didn’t understand…and she wasn’t really interested in figuring it out at the moment. Buffy seemed calmer; that was the important thing. Pressing her advantage, Tara smiled slightly and asked, “D-do you th-think we c-could get up? Th-The floor is h-hard.”

 

Buffy didn’t stand or even shift. Instead, she reached out and put a finger over Tara’s lips. It poked and prodded gently. “Girl pretty.”

 

Tara’s face flamed, and she heard a choked off laugh from the other side of the room. “Th-thank you, sw-sweetie.” She cleared her throat, lips tingling under the continued caresses. Goddess, Faith was never going to let her live this down. Trying to mimic Buffy’s unique speech patterns, Tara rephrased her question. “Buffy up?”

 

That didn’t work. Buffy simply frowned and tilted her head.

 

“Ummm…” Praying she didn’t send Buffy into another growling fit, Tara ordered, “Buffy off!”

 

The frown mutated into a very clear pout. “Buffy off,” Buffy repeated sadly. Shoulders slumped, she climbed off Tara. As soon as she was upright, she spun and glared at the three women still clustered near the door.

 

Keeping a close eye on Buffy, Tara stood. The other girl’s body language confused her. “B-Buffy?” she asked softly. Had she hurt Buffy with her request?

 

Molten copper eyes lifted to hers. “Buffy sorry,” Buffy mumbled. “Not mean hurt.”

 

“You d-didn’t, Bu-Buffy.” Tara hurried to reassure a very sorrowful Buffy. Biting her lip, Tara mentally shook her head at the surreal conversation. “I’m f-fine.” She smiled brightly and stretched her arms over her head. “S-See? You didn’t h-hurt me.”

 

***

 

Buffy stared at the other girl and her lips automatically smiled back. This girl was different from the mean one. She smiled and her voice didn’t make Buffy growl or want to hit things. “No hurt,” Buffy promised her solemnly. Then she reconsidered. “No hurt Nice Girl.” She wasn’t making any vows regarding the mean girl.

 

“Well, that means Tara’s safe.” Buffy wanted to stamp her foot. Why did everyone keep making those funny sounds? She was careful not to react badly, though. She didn’t want the older woman to make her feel bad again. “Faith, it looks like you won’t be helping out much for a while.”

 

The Mean Girl grunted and Buffy glared at her, ready to defend herself. “Like I’m gonna fuckin’ complain about that. If ya’ don’t mind, I’m gonna hose off and watch TV. Let me know when Cave Buffy over there is back to normal.”

 

Buffy’s smile reappeared when the Mean Girl stalked out of the room. Good. She was gone, and Buffy could relax a little. She straightened from her semi-crouch and looked between the older woman and the slight red head. She knew the red head. Frowning, Buffy thought hard, ignoring the way that made her head pound. “Willow!” This girl was Willow; there were fuzzy memories swirling in her mind.

 

She instinctively covered her ears when Willow squealed. “Buffy! You remember!” Willow took a step closer, grinning widely.

 

Memories were one thing. The sudden movement, though, set off a primal response. Buffy dropped back into her crouch and growled warningly. “No!” she ordered. There was something else. Every time Buffy looked at Willow, moisture flooded her eyes and her chest hurt. Willow had hurt her! Willow was mean, too. “Buffy no like Willow!”

 

Willow’s smile disappeared, and she turned very white. “Buffy, I…You know I didn’t mean what I said. You surprised me, that’s all and I don’t do surprises well. It’s like a pop quiz! I knew the material. I could even teach it. But when the teacher says…”

 

More words. Even more words than before. Buffy growled louder. She was tired of all the words.

 

“Easy, sw-sweetie.” Buffy jerked around at the sound sounds from behind her. The Nice Girl was still smiling and she held out a hand to Buffy. “Don’t gr-growl at W-Willow. It m-makes her ta-talk f-faster.”

 

An explosive breath spun Buffy to face Willow and the older woman. Willow was frowning fiercely, and Buffy stepped back. She made sure to stay between the Nice Girl and Willow. That inner voice was back, and the message was loud and clear. Protect the smiling girl behind her. “No hurt!” Buffy ordered Willow. To make sure Willow understood, she narrowed her eyes and growled softly.

 

***

 

As amusing as Tara was beginning to find the situation, it needed to end. Soon. Willow looked completely freaked out and Mrs. Summers nearly vibrated with tension. She very carefully laid a hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “Shh!” She kept her voice soft and soothing. “Willow w-won’t hurt you an-anymore.” Out of the corner of her eye, Tara saw Willow open her mouth. She glared at Willow. For such a smart girl, Willow did stupid things. Buffy had been growling a minute ago. Tara was fairly certain it wasn’t simply for effect. “I won’t l-let her hu-hurt you, sweetie.”

 

It didn’t appear to have any effect. Buffy still growled, and she continued to glower at Willow.

 

“Buffy…” Tara tried to find something else to say, something to calm Buffy enough that they could get her upstairs – and dressed. Stroking Buffy’s warm skin with her thumb, Tara remained silent. She repeated her caress in the charged stillness. Stroke up and across Buffy’s shoulder. Pause. Drag back and down. It was hypnotic, and Tara felt herself hovering close to a trance state.

 

Finally, after countless repetitions, Tara noticed Buffy’s growl had stopped. Buffy stood with her head hanging forward and her arms dangling limply at her sides.

 

Raising her eyes to Mrs. Summers, Tara mouthed the words, “I’ll take her upstairs.”

 

Mrs. Summers frowned. “Too dangerous.” At least, that’s what Tara thought she responded. Lip reading wasn’t her specialty.

 

It wasn’t dangerous. Not with Buffy in this state. If something did happen, Tara had regained enough energy to stop Buffy – for a while. She met Mrs. Summers’ stare and tried again. “Take Willow – and Faith – outside. Now!” It was hard to inject the right amount of snap to the command without sound.

 

Perhaps recognizing the futility of arguing, Mrs. Summers slid the kitchen door open and waited for Willow to tiptoe out. With one last unhappy glance at Tara, Mrs. Summers followed.

 

Alone with Buffy, Tara now faced a decision. Should she ask Buffy to go upstairs with her? Or should she simply start walking in that direction while keeping up the thumb massage? “B-Buffy?” Tara didn’t think she had enough strength to force Buffy out of the room if she refused to go.

 

Unfortunately, Buffy didn’t like the interruption. “No talk,” she mumbled. “Touch good. No talk.”

 

That took care of the decision-making process. Tara pressed her lips together over a chuckle and placed her left hand on Buffy’s left shoulder. Since Buffy preferred massages to conversation, Tara went that route. She gently worked her thumbs over the heavy muscles in Buffy’s neck and shoulders.

 

A soft rumble echoed in the kitchen. It wasn’t a growl. Tara smiled and shook her head. Goddess.  Buffy was purring. Taking that as a sound of contentment, Tara applied slight pressure through her palms. Like a sleepwalker, Buffy paced forward at her urging.

 

CHAPTER 17

 

Thankfully, the house was empty as Tara steered Buffy toward the stairs. She paused at the bottom, unsure where to go. Buffy, however, didn’t seem confused. She lifted her foot and began the upward journey, leaving Tara scrambling to maintain their physical contact.

 

At the top of the stairs, Tara realized Faith had unwittingly left clues for her to follow. The sound of running water led her and Buffy straight down the hall to a small bathroom. The door was open, and water drops splattered on the floor through the partially opened shower curtain.

 

That was exactly where Tara needed Buffy – in the shower. How, though? Buffy wasn’t in any condition to bathe herself. And…Tara risked a look at Buffy. No. Tara cleared her throat and blinked rapidly. She wasn’t going to help Buffy. No, that was a very bad idea. “B-Buffy?” she started softly. Tara remembered Buffy’s reaction to her voice in the kitchen. “Sweetie, c-can you g-get in the shower?”

 

“Shower?” Buffy shook her head and peered around the small room. Her right hand rose and pointed at the tub. “Shower.”

 

The vocabulary lesson was a success. Now for the more important part of this learning session. “Get in the shower, B-Buffy.” Tara applied more pressure to Buffy’s shoulders. “You st-still have soap all over.” Tara blithely ignored her own damp clothing and soap-smeared arms and face. Her efforts with Buffy were working. Holding back a cheer, Tara waited while Buffy stepped into the bathtub and moved under the spray.

 

She wasn’t ready for Buffy’s unhappy cry. “Cold!” Buffy jumped back out, feet slipping and sliding on the tiles. “Bad shower!” Lip thrust out in a clear pout, Buffy wrapped her arms around herself and glared at Tara.

 

Giving up on the shower, Tara sighed and leaned around Buffy to turn off the water. “I’m s-sorry, Buffy. I d-didn’t think about that.” In an echo of Buffy’s speech pattern, she mumbled, “Bad Tara.”

 

One of Buffy’s hands shot out and covered Tara’s mouth. “Not bad. Tara good.” Leaning closer, Buffy peered into Tara’s eyes. “Buffy like Tara.”

 

Unexpected tears burned Tara’s eyes at the simple statement. No, Buffy didn’t like her. The spell must have altered her memories. “Th-thank you, sweetie,” she said anyway. Stepping away, she reached for a washcloth lying on the vanity. “Come on. If the bad shower won’t help with the soap, w-we’ll do it another way.” Tara made sure the water flowing from the tap was nice and warm before she wet the cotton washcloth.

 

Buffy hovered uncertainly in the middle of the bathroom. “Tara?”

 

“It’s fine, B-Buffy. I promise.” Smiling brightly, Tara reached for Buffy’s right hand. She could feel Buffy’s muscles tense at her touch, but Buffy didn’t pull away. Sliding the washcloth up Buffy’s arm, she cleaned off the light film of soap.

 

“Good,” Buffy told Tara. She was relaxed again, free arm hanging loosely at her side.

 

Tara, however, looked longingly at the shower. Maybe she could leave Buffy where she was and take a cold shower herself. She was only human, and the close contact with Buffy had her distinctly on edge. Shoring up her self control, Tara rinsed the cloth and started on Buffy’s chest and neck areas.  This wouldn’t take long; she could do this, Tara assured herself.

 

Her inner pep talk stumbled to a halt when Buffy began purring again.

 

The sound cut through the otherwise silent bathroom and proceeded to jangle Tara’s already vibrating nerves. “Goddess,” Tara said imploringly. What had she done to deserve this? Trying not to think too hard or pay too much attention to the rumble emanating from Buffy, Tara repeated her rinse, wet, wipe actions until she had cleaned off most of Buffy’s front.

 

Making only minimal contact with the two breasts pointing in her direction, Tara gripped Buffy’s shoulders and turned her to face the shower. Now Tara gave up on slow and steady and settled on speed. She had to get out of the bathroom and get Buffy into some clothes. A few more swipes of the cloth, and Tara mentally declared Buffy clean enough. She didn’t acknowledge the tangled mass of Buffy’s hair as she yanked the towel off the bar on the far wall, wrapping it around Buffy’s body. “All done,” she announced in relief.

 

“Done!” Buffy echoed. She spun and stared at Tara.

 

Tara blushed under the curious regard. Buffy’s eyes were still oddly colored, and her nostrils flared with every breath. “Now…” What was she supposed to now? Tara struggled to pull her thoughts together. “Clothes!” Goddess, how could she have forgotten that? She needed to get Buffy into some clothes. “Come on, sweetie.” Flashing another bright smile (it was beginning to feel painted on), Tara took Buffy’s hand and began to lead them out of the bathroom.

 

***

 

Tara’s hand felt good in Buffy’s. It was smooth. Following Tara out of the tiny room, Buffy curiously stroked her thumb over the back of the hand holding hers. “Nice,” she announced.  Then she raised her free hand and examined her own fingers. They weren’t smooth like Tara’s. Frowning, she peered at her fingers, seeing the rough patches on her palms and fingertips.

 

“Buffy?” Tara’s voice broke her concentration. “Sweetie, I don’t know which room is yours.”

 

If it had been anyone other than Tara, Buffy would have growled. She didn’t understand the funny sounds. Trying to cooperate, though, she obligingly repeated, “Yours.” That must not have been what Tara wanted. Tara frowned, and Buffy immediately felt bad. “Buffy yours,” she tried again.

 

Heat suddenly radiated from Tara’s face, and Buffy raised their joined hands to feel it. Tara stepped away from the caress. “No. No, Buffy. That’s not what I meant.”

 

A rumble came from Tara’s throat, and Buffy bowed her head to show how sorry she was for angering Tara.

 

“That’s OK. W-We’ll just find it together.” Buffy’s head came up as Tara continued to make the incomprehensible sounds. “Let’s try this room. Is this Buffy’s room?” Opening the door, Tara pulled Buffy across the hall and they both looked inside.

 

A faint odor tickled Buffy’s nose. She smiled at the familiar scent. It reminded her of… Frowning, Buffy tried to remember. It was right there. She drew in a deeper breath. “Mom.” The smell and the word went together.

 

Her comments pleased Tara. A happy smile crossed Tara’s face. “Your mom’s room. Good, Buffy. Are you remembering things?” She stepped back and closed the door. “Come on. Let’s try the next room.”

 

Buffy trotted next to Tara. “Buffy good.” That was good. Buffy didn’t want to make Tara unhappy. When they entered the next room, though, she paused at the doorway. Now Tara’s earlier words made sense. “Buffy’s room.” Her scent was everywhere. Breathing deeply, Buffy slowly left the threshold and wandered toward the desk. Reaching out, she brushed a finger over the sparkling, knife-edged blades at the bottom of the shoes slung over the back of a chair. “Skates.”

 

An image formed in her mind. The skates and being cold and a sharp, cutting sound as she went round and round. Trying to recapture that memory further, Buffy threw out her arms and began to spin in circles. “Schwwwwww,” she intoned in attempt to imitate the sound in her head.

 

***

 

At first, Tara was too busy searching through Buffy’s dresser drawers to notice the activity going on behind her. A new sound, however, snapped her head in Buffy’s direction. Towel-less, with arms held away from her body, Buffy spun madly in place. Her mouth was open and she made sounds like a television whose channel was off the air. “Dear Goddess.” Tara’s eyes flew shut. This couldn’t be happening. Where was the quiet, happy, and nearly docile Buffy from only minutes ago?

 

There were no answers behind her eyelids. Tara forced them open and paced slowly toward Buffy – making sure to pick up the discarded towel along the way. “Buffy!” she tried to interrupt the performance with no results. Wanting to give in to her own urge to growl (in frustration), Tara tossed the towel at Buffy and stalked to the closet. There had to be shirts and pants there. She ripped the first pair of jeans and the first blouse she found off their hangers.

 

It wasn’t until she turned back to Buffy that Tara realized her problems were far from over. Spinning Buffy had given way to Slumping Buffy. “Dear Goddess,” Tara repeated. Then, seeing the confused and hurt expression in Buffy’s downcast face, Tara softened. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Um…Bad Tara. Tara sorry.” With a much more genuine smile than before, Tara patted Buffy’s shoulder. Wryly acknowledging their drastically altered roles, she muttered, “By the time you’re back to normal, I’ll be owing you an apology, won’t I?”

 

Buffy merely gripped her hand and resumed stroking it.

 

“Do you think you can get into the clothes by yourself?” Tara asked without much expectation of success. She held the clothes out to Buffy and prayed.

 

For an instant, success seemed possible. Buffy took the clothes with a smile – right before sniffing them and dropping them to the floor with a grunt.

 

Mentally gearing up for battle, Tara bent and retrieved the top-most item. “Shirt, Buffy,” she said and moved closer. Her intention had been to simply slip the button-up top on Buffy. Buffy, unfortunately, didn’t seem to like simple. Tara found herself dressing empty air.

 

“No!” Buffy said emphatically. Clutching the towel around her shoulders, she shook her head and stood pressed against the side of the bed.

 

“Buffy…” Tara took a deep breath when she realized her teeth were clenched. “Sweetie, please.” Her mother had always said politeness got results. Once again, Tara sent a silent thank you to her mother. Buffy responded to the tone and sidled a few steps nearer. “Good Buffy.” Tara smoothly closed the remaining gap and inserted Buffy’s right arm into the shirt.

 

Trembling like a filly under the saddle for the first time, Buffy stood poised to flee.

 

Tara resorted to stroking Buffy’s shoulder again, and Buffy slowly calmed. Keeping alert for adverse reactions, Tara managed to get Buffy’s other arm into the shirt and began buttoning the front. By the time it was completely closed, she was bathed in sweat and exhausted.  Now, though, Tara had a system. When she picked up Buffy’s foot in preparation for sliding it into the jeans, Tara kept up a steady stream of soft words and caresses.

 

Buffy grimaced and plucked at the shirt as Tara drew up the jeans and fastened the snap.

 

“Clothes good,” Tara quickly assured her. They were far better than the alternative. Tara breathed a sigh of relief when Buffy stopped fussing. She took Buffy’s arm. It was time to retrieve Joyce and company from their exile. They needed to figure out how to get Buffy back to normal. With her limited capacity for understanding and her violent reactions to surprises, Buffy was a child with Slayer strength. If she got out of control… Tara cut that thought off sharply. It wasn’t going to happen. “Come on, sweetie. Your mom is downstairs. Let’s go see if she has any good news for us.”

 

Buffy tilted her head in consideration before following Tara out of her bedroom and down the stairs. She hung at the very end of Tara’s grasp, sniffing the air.

 

Seeing Buffy’s actions, Tara hesitated. Was something wrong? Buffy didn’t appear frightened or angry. With some trepidation, Tara opened the front door.

 

CHAPTER 18

 

Mrs. Summers and an unknown man stood side by side on the front porch. Both ignored Tara, peering worriedly at Buffy. “Ah…I see Buffy has returned to herself,” the man enunciated in a clipped British accent.

 

His pleased smile faltered when Buffy pressed against Tara’s back and growled softly.

 

“Not exactly,” Tara mumbled. She wasn’t sure how to respond to Buffy’s actions. The other girl was plastered against her, and her arms had snaked around Tara’s middle. “I g-got her dr-dressed, though.” Blushing brightly at the inane comment and the stutter, Tara fought to move herself and Buffy out of the doorway. “I th-think it’s safe to come ins-inside, though.” Despite the rumble that vibrated through her, Tara didn’t feel Buffy tensing for battle.

 

Neither of the two adults on the porch moved.

 

“Pl-please. Come in.” Tara tried to keep the words polite through her frustration. Fixing Buffy had been the big project earlier. Why did she seem to be the only one still working on that? In fact… Leaning toward the open door, Tara looked around Mrs. Summers and her companion. “Where are Wi-Willow and Faith?” They weren’t anywhere in sight.

 

Finally stepping inside, Mrs. Summers patted Tara’s shoulder, keeping a careful eye on Buffy. “I sent them home. Buffy didn’t seem to want them here.” Tara saw her pained frown. “Willow is planning to do some research on her computer and call if she finds anything.”

 

Not sure how to respond, Tara simply nodded. “Are w-we going to do re-research here, too?” Buffy was still glued to her back, and now she was stroking Tara’s stomach with warm fingers.  The caresses were making it hard for Tara to stay focused. She tried, though. It was important to find a way to get Buffy back to normal. “I th-think I know how this happened.”

 

Her words spurred the man with Mrs. Summers into a flood of questions. “You do? How? Was it aimed at Buffy? Is there a way to reverse the spell?” He resembled Willow in both enthusiasm and speed.

 

“Rupert!” Mrs. Summers shoved him gently toward the living room. “Sit down and give Tara a chance to explain,” she remonstrated with amused affection.

 

Tara’s eyebrows shot into her hairline. This was the Rupert that Mrs. Summers had been sure could help? He was bright red and stammering worse than Tara herself normally did. Biting her lip against a giggle, Tara inched away from Buffy. At least…that was her intention. The arms around her disagreed. They tightened slightly, and Tara stopped moving.

 

“No go,” Buffy announced firmly.

 

This might be a problem. Tara flashed a reassuring smile at Rupert and Mrs. Summers. “It’s OK, sweetie. We’re going to get comfortable in the other room. You can go with me.” She knew, even as she spoke, that Buffy’s limited vocabulary wouldn’t stand up to the long explanation.

 

Sure enough, Buffy merely grunted. “No go.”

 

Feeling her smile slip slightly, Tara considered her options. Forcing Buffy into the other room? She slid a foot forward – and did some grunting of her own when Buffy gripped her even tighter. Screaming in frustration had merit suddenly. “Buffy…” Tara didn’t know how to phrase her request. She abandoned tact altogether. “Buffy go now!”

 

Buffy’s grip loosened – in shock, probably.

 

Tara used the withdrawal to her advantage. Surging forward, she moved out of Buffy grasp and turned to face the other girl. “Now!” she repeated. For added measure, Tara pointed into the living room and stared stonily into wide copper eyes.

 

It worked. With plodding steps and outthrust lower lip, Buffy did as ordered.

 

Maintaining her stern visage in case Buffy glanced back, Tara walked into the living room a few steps behind Buffy. A conspicuously quiet Rupert and Mrs. Summers slipped in at her side and took seats on the couch. 

 

That left the chair on the far side of the large room. Tara headed in that direction, watching as Buffy hesitated in front of the nearby fireplace, tilting her head slightly. “Buffy?” Not really wanting to startle or anger Buffy, Tara spoke softly.

 

She wasn’t prepared for Buffy’s beaming smile and the picture Buffy thrust in her direction. “Scoobies,” Buffy said clearly.

 

The picture hovering in front of Tara’s face contained a trio of happy teenagers. She recognized Willow and Buffy. The dark haired young man, though, was new. “Scoobies.” Tara repeated the word and removed the silver frame from Buffy’s hand. “Come on, sweetie. You can tell me about the Scoobies later.” Still holding the picture, Tara tugged gently on Buffy’s arm until they were standing in front of the chair. “Buffy sit. Please.”

 

For once, Buffy didn’t protest. She dropped into the chair.

 

An explosion of sound to their right startled a squeal out of Tara. Buffy instantly jumped out of the chair and pulled Tara protectively behind her. A low, threatening growl emanated from her throat as Buffy apparently warned whoever (or whatever) had made the noise to go away.

 

Heart pounding, Tara buried her head in Buffy’s shoulder. The sounds continued unabated from the television in the far corner of the room.

 

Buffy, though, didn’t understand what was going on. She vibrated against Tara, body tense and fists clenched. Frowning fiercely, she scanned the room for the threat.

 

“Sweetie, I’m fine.” Tara sought to soothe her. “Sit down.”

 

Before Tara could maneuver Buffy back into the chair, the flicker of frenetic movement from the cartoon on the television caught Buffy’s attention. “Little people!” she crowed. Her vigilant stance disappeared and she grinned widely. Completely enthralled, Buffy left Tara to fend for herself and crept closer to the television...

 

“Well, I was going to suggest the use of magic to restrain Buffy, if necessary.” Rupert grimaced and pulled his glasses off his nose. Rubbing at the pressure indentations with his right hand, he went on. “This is far worse than I had feared. Buffy is too powerful to remain completely unrestrained in her current condition. She could easily do harm to an innocent without meaning to do so.”

 

Really? Tara barely held back the sarcastic question. “Yes, I had the s-same thought.” Staring at a grinning and clapping Buffy poised in front of the television, Tara no longer felt the same anxiety. However, she knew that Buffy’s currently child-like state was temporary. One loud noise or anything threatening, and Buffy would go back to her former violent bent.

 

“Joyce tells me that you are a witch, my dear.” Leaning forward, Rupert peered shortsightedly at Tara. “Perhaps you could do…something to get Buffy into a more relaxed state of mind? Put her to sleep?”

 

“No, sir. I’m sorry.” The politeness drilled into Tara prevented her from using Rupert’s first name – and it almost kept her next words from sounding mocking. “H-Have you ever used magic?”

 

Shifting uncomfortably, Rupert replaced his glasses. “Yes, many years ago. I only dabble now and then these days.”

 

“Oh.” That explained his lack of knowledge. “Um…It isn’t as eas-easy as people think.” Tara could see from his impatient frown that he didn’t understand her point and that he wasn’t going to wait long for more. “We d-don’t know what spell was used to make Buffy and the others like th-this. If I c-cast a counterspell or just put her to sl-sleep, the results might be bad.” Disastrous, actually. Tara didn’t want to delve too deeply into the possible consequences. They needed to focus on finding answers instead.

 

“Bloody hell!” Rupert’s frustrated exposition earned a growl from Buffy.

 

Glaring at him, Buffy ordered angrily, “Buffy like little people. No talk!” She pointed at him to emphasize her words.

 

Looking less than chastened - and quite annoyed, Rupert settled back against the couch – and didn’t say anything.

 

“Good.” Buffy went back to the cartoon.

 

The situation was bad. Tara weighed their options. “I d-don’t know what spell made Buffy like this; I th-think I know who does, though.” The warlock at the bar. “There was a man at the bar. He was ke-keeping people inside the building. With m-magic,” Tara tacked on to make sure Rupert and Mrs. Summers understood.

 

“Oh, Rupert. You don’t think someone was after Buffy, do you?” Joyce joined the conversation finally. Her attention remained mostly on Buffy as she spoke. “I thought, with both of the girls here…”

 

“It wouldn’t be an unlikely occurrence.” Rupert’s glasses came off again, and he fished a handkerchief out of his shirt pocket. Methodically cleaning each lens, he continued. “However, it strikes me as odd that anyone focusing on Buffy would choose that particular moment to attack. It would have been too hard to predict her being there. And Buffy is far too skilled not to notice that she was being followed – especially during the day.” Turning his head, Rupert glanced at Tara. “Did you get a good look at this person, Tara?”

 

If only she had. Tara picked up the remote Buffy had inadvertently sat on and then dropped into the chair. Stared at the photo still clutched in her hands, she said softly, “No. W-Willow and I tried.” And they’d been so close, right at the edges of the warlock’s shields. “He saw us, though.” She raised her eyes. “Whoever he is, he’s very powerful. His attack nearly got through my shields.”

 

Rupert might not have been an expert in the arcane; however, he seemed to understand the gravity of that last statement. “Were you hurt, Tara?” He shoved his glasses back on and leaned toward her in concern. “I have some contacts in the local covens…”

 

Blushing, Tara shook her head. “No, sir. I’m fine. Just a headache.”

 

A warm hand patted Tara’s knee. “You will, of course, let us know if your headache worsens.” Rupert’s voice was soft – and it did nothing to disguise the firm command.

 

“Yes, sir,” Tara answered quickly. Wanting desperately to deflect attention from herself, she changed the subject. “If B-Buffy wasn’t the target, why c-cast the spell on the people in the bar?”

 

***

 

The voices behind Buffy were annoying; although, not so annoying that she stopped trying to find the little people running back and forth in the box. Hands pressed to the surface, she grunted and chuckled as one of the little people fell down. Buffy liked the big stars that appeared and floated in a circle around the little man’s head.

 

Then she heard something she recognized. Tara’s soft voice said, “bar.”

 

Spinning around, Buffy forgot all about the people in the box. “Bar!” she echoed. She’d liked the bar…before the fire, anyway. The bar had beer. Maybe Tara could help her get more beer. Buffy stood regarded Tara closely. “Tara drink beer?”

 

She didn’t understand the look Tara gave her, but Buffy liked the faint tide of pink that rushed up Tara’s face. “No, Buffy. I don’t drink,” Tara said quietly. “And you shouldn’t, either.”

 

“No beer?” Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. “Beer good. Buffy like beer.”

 

“Buffy’s never been much of a drinker,” Mom said. Holding out a hand to Buffy, she continued, “Honey, is that why the man was able to put you under a spell? You were drunk?”

 

The bad feeling was back. Buffy’s arms slid from her chest to her stomach as it roiled and cramped at Mom’s words. She stared at the older woman in confusion, wishing the sounds coming from the other woman’s mouth made sense. What had she done now? There was only one conclusion she could draw. “Buffy bad,” Buffy said sadly. “Make Mom mad.”

 

The hand reaching out to her retreated until it rested over Mom’s mouth. The tears glistening in Mom’s eyes didn’t make Buffy feel any better.

 

“No, sweetie. Your mom isn’t mad.” Tara stood up slowly and walked toward Buffy. “She’s just worried.” As if sensing Buffy didn’t understand the words, she stopped talking and smiled. “Buffy not bad.”

 

Buffy didn’t believe Tara until Tara’s hand touched her shoulder. The solid, warm contact flushed away some of the fluttering in her stomach. Straightening a little, Buffy tried to put everything together. It was hard. The sounds…words Tara, Mom, and the man said still didn’t make sense most of the time. “If not Buffy, beer bad?” Was that why Mom had been mad? Because the beer had been bad?

 

CHAPTER 19

 

Buffy watched Tara intently. “Well, I guess it depends on who you ask, sweetie.” Tara’s hand moved from Buffy’s shoulder. It slid down Buffy’s arm until Tara gripped her hand. “Come on. Let’s sit down and talk about the bad beer.”

 

Even though she didn’t understand Tara’s words, Buffy purred softly from the way Tara’s touch made her feel. She happily followed Tara back to the chair. Still clutching Tara’s hand, Buffy climbed into the cushy seat – and frowned in displeasure. Tara wasn’t sitting down with her. “Tara sit,” Buffy ordered.

 

That earned her a small smile – and this time, Buffy didn’t smile back. Tara’s smile wasn’t real. She could tell because Tara’s eyes weren’t smiling, too.

 

Reaching deep into her mind, past the confusion and the lingering anger, Buffy found what she needed. “Please,” she said. “Tara please sit.” Anxiously, she waited to see if Tara’s nice smile would come back.

 

It did – and Buffy grinned in response.

 

When Tara also sat down, Buffy beamed. Then she quickly climbed onto Tara’s lap. “Thank you.” The words came automatically, and Buffy didn’t spare any time wondering how she knew what to say. Her attention was all for Tara.

 

***

 

Trapped in the chair by Buffy’s weight, Tara stared helplessly at Mrs. Summers and Rupert. Her face burned at the bewildered looks she was receiving from the adults in the room. This couldn’t be happening.

 

As if to mock her thought, Buffy’s hand combed through Tara’s hair. Seconds later, the combing turned into…picking.  Strong fingers probed Tara’s scalp and lifted and pulled at her hair.

 

“It is imperative that we find a way to return Buffy to normal,” Rupert announced. He grimaced at Tara’s glare. “Forgive me for stating the obvious. I am fully aware that you understand the situation. I was merely…emphasizing the urgency.”

 

It might actually have been a good thing Buffy had Tara trapped in the chair. She was giving serious thought to showing Rupert just how urgent she found her current predicament.

 

“Let’s emphasize some possible solutions, Rupert.” Mrs. Summers patted his thigh. “Tara, if you can’t use a spell to put Buffy to sleep, is there another way to keep her calm?” She shrugged slightly. “I admit I don’t understand magic very well, but Willow always seems to know some ritual or other.”

 

And that was why Faith had been willing to ask Tara for help. Keeping that to herself, Tara worked on extricating her head from Buffy’s grasp. “I don’t think so,” she said. “As I said, without knowing the original spell, it would be dangerous to try. Besides,” Tara added, grabbing one of Buffy’s probing hands and pulling it away from her hair, “I’m not sure we need it.”

 

“Why is that?” Rupert didn’t seem impressed with Tara’s answer. “Buffy is still a threat, and it is clear we cannot control her should she become agitated.”

 

“Didn’t you notice that her speech is getting better?” Tara sagged in relief as she managed to tuck Buffy’s right hand into her lap and hold it there. Now she needed to grow a few more arms to get the other one out, too.

 

She caught the look Rupert gave Mrs. Summers. “You believe the spell is wearing off because Buffy said, ‘please?’ While it is exceedingly unusual for her, I do believe Buffy is familiar with the word.”

 

For an instant, Tara wondered if she could get Buffy interested in grooming Rupert. Was he always this dense and irritating?

 

Before she could voice her own frustration, the phone rang.

 

Buffy jerked at the shrill sound, and Tara went on full alert. “Phone,” Buffy informed her. Then, to Tara’s surprise, she settled back into Tara’s arms – and yawned. “Buffy tired.”

 

That single statement might solve many of their problems. Tara didn’t say anything, though. She merely sat very still as Mrs. Summers got up and hurried toward the kitchen.  Letting her eyes go unfocused, Tara allowed her inner sight take over. The room darkened at the edges and bright and shifting colors developed around Buffy and Rupert.

 

Tara ignored Rupert. She didn’t want to intrude on his privacy. Buffy…Tara firmly reminded herself that Buffy was a special case at the moment. She looked down at the woman curled trustingly in her lap. The raw power of the Slayer was easier to ignore this time. Tara knew it was there and expected it. Her target was deeper into Buffy’s aura. Sinking beneath the outer layer, Tara watched the pulsing golden color mutate and darken.

 

She relaxed and came out of her semi-trance with a smile. “You are tired, aren’t you, Buffy?”

 

Buffy nodded solemnly. “Tired.” Leaning more heavily into Tara, she placed her head on Tara’s shoulder. The hand occasionally picking at Tara’s hair slid down until Buffy’s arm wrapped around Tara’s shoulders. “Sleep now?”

 

“Sleep, sweetie,” Tara encouraged. It would give them (her, mostly) a respite from Buffy-watching and a chance to figure out what to do next.  Soft, warm breath caressed her neck as Buffy’s breathing grew even and deep. Fighting a shiver of response, Tara whispered, “Buffy?”

 

The body resting against her didn’t move. Buffy had already fallen asleep.

 

“Would you like me to carry her upstairs, my dear?” Rupert rose slowly from the couch and took a step in Tara’s direction.

 

Shaking her head, Tara turned down his offer. “No. Right now Buffy’s quiet.” She looked at him with a slight smile. “I don’t want to risk waking her and changing that.  If I’m right about the spell, she needs to sleep.” A feeling of unreality flowed through Tara as she continued. “It would be nice to have the real Buffy back.”

 

Rupert returned to his seat. “Indeed. And perhaps she will be able to shed some light on the apparent attack. I simply cannot believe the attack was directed at Buffy.”

 

“It wasn’t.” Mrs. Summers stood in the entryway. “I just talked to Willow. Apparently there are reports all over town about drunk college students acting like Neanderthals.” She walked into the room and glanced at Buffy. “At least that’s a step in the right direction.”

 

“Did W-Willow have any more information?” Tara was trying to piece things together. “About the st-students affected by the spell?”

 

Mrs. Summers dropped onto the couch. “The only concrete information they had so far was that all of the activity – except for the bar where we found Buffy – was on Greek Row. She and Faith are tracking down some leads.” At Rupert’s disbelieving look, she chuckled. “I’m quoting her exact words. I’m sure, though, that they are safely at the apartment with Willow chained to the computer.”

 

“Let us hope they stay that way,” Rupert said dryly. “Faith has an alarming tendency to charge off without warning or any recognizable plan.”

 

Tara didn’t pay attention to their comfortable chatter. All of the occurrences had happened in a specific location. “Why Greek Row?” she asked abruptly. “Why target only those specific college students? And if they were the target, how did Buffy and the others at the bar come in contact with the warlock?”

 

Rupert and Joyce turned in her direction. “Buffy mentioned that there were a lot of Halloween parties coming up,” Joyce responded. “She and Faith were going to do a lot of patrolling there for the rest of the week. I think they’ll have to spend most of their time outside the frat houses. It’s been a few years since my college days; however, Neanderthal frat boys would certainly make for a chaotic Halloween.”

 

It made sense. Still, Tara wondered if they were missing something.

 

“Bloody hell!” Rupert shot off the couch.

 

His voice rose above the near-whisper they’d all been previously using, and Buffy jerked in Tara’s arms. With a sleepy grumble, she partially opened one eye. When no one moved or spoke, she grunted once and wrapped her arm more tightly around Tara’s shoulders. Her eye closed and her breathing evened out again.

 

The silence lasted for several minutes. Finally, though, Rupert whipped off his glasses and continued in a low, disgusted voice. “After all these years, surely Ethan would not try his mischief here again.”

 

His comment made no sense to Tara. However, Mrs. Summers’ eyes went wide. “You don’t think he’s back? I thought, after the last time…” She broke off and groaned. “Does this mean we’re about to face another Mayor with dreams of eating Sunnydale?”

 

The question broke Rupert’s solemn mood. He smirked and replaced his glasses. “I believe those only occur once in a lifetime, Joyce.”

 

Not really wanting to interrupt, Tara nevertheless needed an explanation. “Wh-Who is Ethan?” There were dozens more questions bouncing around in her mind. This seemed the most important, though.

 

“A bloody nuisance,” Rupert answered immediately. Then, with a sigh, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Forgive me. He is far more than that. Ethan Rayne is a man who has, more than once, used his magic and his love of chaos to disrupt what little order and peace the residents of Sunnydale have. This latest ‘attack’ follows his usual pattern: a spell placed on an item in such a way to affect a large and seemingly random group of people.”

 

The group of people seemed evident. “How did he p-plan to get to the st-students?” she asked. Then Buffy’s last comment came back to her. “The beer? Could he have done something to the beer? You said,” Tara directed this to Mrs. Summers, “that Buffy rarely drank, but she seemed r-really interested in another b-beer a few minutes ago.”

 

“As much at the mother in me wants to say there would be no drinking at all the Halloween parties…” Mrs. Summers grimaced. “They would be the perfect target.” She stood again. “I’ll call Willow back. Maybe there is a way to trace which of the Houses shared a delivery with Jack’s.”

 

“And please stress that, when we have the information, Faith should wait for us to join her before visiting the supplier,” Rupert pointed out. Once Mrs. Summers was gone, he settled deeper into the couch. “I’m sorry you have been caught up in all this, my dear. However, given the nature of the attack, I am very glad to have your help. Ethan has grown more powerful and more devious than I would ever have imagined. I am deeply concerned about your run in with him earlier.”

 

Tara regarded him steadily. “He h-has to be stopped, sir.” That said, she didn’t have a clue how to do that. The warlock – Ethan – had been too powerful for her to take on alone, even if she were skilled in offensive magics.

 

“Indeed. Another question continues to plague me: why? Is this merely an attempt to get petty revenge on myself and Buffy after his last defeat? Or has he allied himself with another?” Rupert absently tugged at the sleeves of his shirt. “While the former is not unlikely, given Ethan’s temperament, it is the latter possibility which is truly frightening. The last time he chose a partner, as it were, his actions nearly led to the Apocalypse.”

 

CHAPTER 20

 

“Are there really that many people who this Ethan could t-team up with?” Tara understood Buffy and Faith, as Slayers, faced vampires and demons. Neither of those groups was known for organization and long-range plans, though, let alone an affinity for magic. Would normal humans even know that Slayers existed? And...Her mind ran in circles, trying to make sense of the situation.

 

Rupert nodded. “There always seems to be a new crop of enemies. We’ve discovered that the Hellmouth draws more than simply the usual types of evil creatures. I am not aware of any one in particular, at the moment, however.” Falling silent, he stared intently at Buffy. “Ethan is very fond of power, my dear. For him to ally with anyone – or anything – he would have to believe he would receive some reward or increase in stature. And that kind of entity…Well, I would have thought we would have had a hint of their arrival in town.”

 

When he fell silent again, Tara had nothing to contribute. His comments hadn’t really cleared up her confusion. She’d lived in Sunnydale for more than a year without encountering anything remotely like what Rupert had described. Of course, she acknowledged to herself, she’d spent all of her time in virtual hiding. She’d even avoided the local covens; Tara’s connections to anything magical resided solely in her spell books. Maybe it was time to change that. “H-have you thought of…”

 

“Willow thinks she has something.” Tara jerked in surprise when Mrs. Summers abruptly interrupted her suggestion. Hovering in the hallway, she continued. “I just got off the phone. It looks like we have our first clue.”

 

Standing, Rupert turned in Mrs. Summers’ direction. “Excellent. What did she find?”

 

Tara absently stroked a hand up and down Buffy’s back and listened to the conversation. The repetitive motion was soothing, as was the soft sound of Buffy’s breathing as she slept.

 

“A large shipment of beer arrived at Jack’s two days ago,” Mrs. Summers explained. “Willow’s still working on where the shipment originated; however, all but two kegs were then delivered to three of the largest fraternities on campus. The same fraternities reporting ‘strange’ behavior from their members.”

 

“If you’re r-right,” Tara said quietly, “why did the tr-trouble start tonight?” She refused to look away when both Rupert and Mrs. Summers glanced in her direction. “If the beer was m-meant for Halloween, why t-tonight? Did something go wrong? And…why was E-Ethan at the bar and not on Greek Row?”

 

Neither adult responded.

 

Feeling herself flush, Tara tried to get them to understand. “The b-bar wasn’t crowded. Why go there? The fr-fraternities would give h-him more ch-chances to cause trouble. M-Maybe he r-really was after Buffy.”

 

“A very good question, Tara. Perhaps we should look more closely at the patrons of the bar. I still do not believe Buffy was, in any way, Ethan’s intended victim. However, one of the others very well may have been.” Rupert strode toward the hallway. “I will join Willow and Faith and see if we can discover more about the shipment.”

 

Mrs. Summers started to follow him and then stopped. “I…” Frowning, she glanced at Buffy in apparent indecision. “You’ll have to keep us in the loop, Rupert.” She sounded frustrated as she continued. “I don’t want to leave Tara alone with Buffy.”

 

Buffy wasn’t a threat. Tara started to protest the bodyguard. The stern look Mrs. Summers gave her changed her mind. She wasn’t tangling with a clearly protective mother.

 

Without another word, Rupert hurried out of the house. The soft snick of the closing door was loud in the otherwise silent living room.

 

“Can I get you anything, honey?” Appearing restless, Mrs. Summers plumped the pillows on the couch and rearranged the knickknacks on the end table before striding to the mantle to peruse and align the photos there.

 

“No, thank you,” Tara murmured. She watched the other woman, wondering what was causing her frenetic energy. “Mrs. Summers? Is ev-everything alright?” Had Willow found something else? Something Mrs. Summers hadn’t told them? The hand stroking Buffy’s back grew more firm as Tara vowed to derail whatever plan Willow and Faith had uncovered.

 

With a soft chuckle, Mrs. Summers resumed her seat on the couch. “Nothing’s really wrong, Tara. Well…nothing that hasn’t been wrong all night.” She stopped and gazed at Buffy before seeming to make a decision. When she spoke again, her voice was determined. “I didn’t know anything about you - or Buffy’s stellar behavior at Hemery - until yesterday.”

 

It was the last thing Tara wanted to hear – or talk about. Shrinking back in the chair and pulling Buffy tighter to her chest, she started to protest. “Mrs. Summers…”

 

“I won’t offer excuses, honey. There aren’t any.” Mrs. Summers spoke over Tara’s objection. “Buffy was the perfect product of her upbringing.” A bitter smile twisted her lips. “A young, up and coming lawyer and his young, bored, and completely self-absorbed housewife. There should be a test for prospective parents, you know,” Mrs. Summers continued conversationally. “The first question should be: are you mature enough to raise a child.”

 

Squirming was out of the question, thanks to Buffy’s weight in her lap. That didn’t mean Tara wasn’t twisting and wiggling uncomfortably mentally. This was too personal. Too obviously painful for Mrs. Summers.

 

Before she could find a way to change the subject, though, Mrs. Summers raised her eyes. They were dark with memories. “I’m sorry you met the product of my and Hank’s incompetence as parents.”

 

The soft, blunt apology took Tara by surprise. “You d-didn’t do anything,” Tara said. Buffy had been the one making decisions. She’d been old enough to know, no matter what her home life, what her actions would do. “Pl-please, don’t w-worry about it.” Tension snaked through her, and Tara dropped her eyes, staring blankly at the top of Buffy’s head.

 

“I’m a mother, honey. Worry is what we do,” Mrs. Summers said wryly. The comment drew Tara’s reluctant gaze, and she couldn’t help returning the self-mocking smile Mrs. Summers wore. “You’ve been here for Buffy, even though I’m sure you’d rather be anywhere else. When she’s back to normal – or what passes for that since Buffy became the Slayer – I know she’ll thank you herself. All I’m asking is that you give her a chance, Tara. She really isn’t the same girl you knew. Sometimes, even I don’t recognize her.” Standing slowly, Mrs. Summers pulled an afghan off the back of the couch and draped it over Buffy’s shoulders. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

 

Frozen by indecision, Tara didn’t reply as Mrs. Summers left the room. The conversation hadn’t been the stern scolding Willow and Faith had received. However, Tara ruefully acknowledged that the result had been similar. She deeply regretted the way she’d reacted to meeting Buffy in their shared dorm room – and there was no way she’d be able to turn away if Buffy wanted talk once the spell had lifted. “That’s a mom thing, too, isn’t it?” she asked the empty room and her sleeping companion. “Guilt…Mama was good at that.”

 

Buffy didn’t respond. Her soft breaths filled the silence, though. And Tara found herself matching the deep, slow pattern of inhales and exhales. Without conscious thought, she slipped into a light trance.

 

***

 

Buffy rubbed her face on the pillow under her cheek and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. The slight movement hurt. Tiny men with large hammers went to work in her head, and it pounded accordingly. She needed aspirin. An entire bottle. “I’m never drinking again,” she mumbled and cracked one eye open.

 

It was dark. That was good. Buffy had a feeling light – of any kind – would be very, very bad. Trying not to move too quickly, she searched for a clock. What time was it?

 

“Holy shit!” Snapping her eye closed again, Buffy prayed. This was a dream. That was all. Just a dream. Counting to ten, she repeated that over and over. Just a dream. At ten, she opened both eyes.

 

The view hadn’t changed. There was not clock. No familiar dorm room. Just Tara’s face, hovering mere inches away.

 

The pounding in Buffy’s head was suddenly eclipsed by memory. Snippets of conversation – all of it in Tara’s voice – and odd flashes of scenes.

 

            Faith, poised for a fight, in front of Jack’s bar as Tara stood protectively in between them. “The magic on the door wasn’t the only spell. I think Buffy’s under a spell, too.”

 

            More Faith – this time chasing her down the stairs and then into the kitchen.

 

Buffy moaned again. This time from an emotion far more damaging than pain. Embarrassment curled in her stomach and chest, making her writhe inside and a sending a blush over her neck and face.  She could actually feel Tara under her, see her wide-eyed look of shock and fear as Buffy straddled her. The blush got brighter and hotter.

 

Straddled Tara naked.

 

The images advanced. They didn’t let Buffy off the hook, though. Huddling into herself she remembered the shower she’d shared with Tara. The way Tara had dried and dressed her.

 

            “By the time you’re back to normal, I’ll be owing you an apology, won’t I?”

 

No, Buffy told the phantom Tara. She would never owe Buffy an apology. Shaking from the onslaught of emotion and memory, Buffy managed to get a hand free of the blanket and rubbed her temple. God, things with Tara had gone from terrible to… She couldn’t even find a word to describe how much worse she’d made the situation.

 

A sob burned her throat, and she fought it back. Crying wasn’t going to help. It never had before. It was time to make this right – if that were even possible. In a voice rough with unshed tears, Buffy whispered, “Tara? Tara, wake up.”

 

Almost immediately, Tara’s eyes fluttered open and focused intently on Buffy. “Sw-sweetie?” Buffy could see the way Tara watched her for a reaction and feel the way the other girl’s hands began to stroke her back under the blanket. “It’s OK. Go back to sleep. You need to rest.”

 

The offered out was tempting. So very tempting. Buffy resisted the lure, however. Lying about her condition wouldn’t help fix this. “I’m not tired anymore,” she said softly.

 

“I bet your mom…” Tara’s response was automatic. Then she broke off and the gentle massage stopped. “Buffy?” The color in Tara’s cheeks disappeared with alarming speed.

 

With a twisted excuse for a reassuring smile, Buffy responded to Tara’s unspoken question. “Yeah, it’s really me. No more cave girl.” She shifted out of Tara’s limp embrace and scooted off Tara’s lap. “You were right. The sleep seems to have gotten rid of the spell.” Keeping her voice level with effort, Buffy avoided the truly serious topics and stuck strictly to business. “Did Mom come back with more information from Giles and the gang yet?”

 

The gang. Buffy choked on the phrase and cleared her throat. She wanted to huddle on the floor under the weight on her shoulders. She owed more than just Tara a heartfelt apology.

 

“N-no.” Tara shrank back into the chair, clutching the blanket to her chest. “Th-they h-haven’t called b-back.”

 

The staccato stutter stabbed at Buffy. It hadn’t been so bad when Tara had been taking care of her. Buffy remembered Tara smiling and speaking almost flawlessly as she promised to keep Buffy safe. “I’m sorry,” she blurted in response to that memory. “I’m so sorry.”

 

CHAPTER 21

 

It would have been too simple if Tara had accepted Buffy’s apology immediately. Instead, Tara’s eyes dropped to the floor and her hands plucked nervously at the arms of the chair. “I’m sorry,” Buffy repeated again – this time in an abject acknowledgement that she didn’t know how to make things right with Tara.

 

“It’s OK,” Tara whispered without looking up.

 

No! Buffy wanted to scream. It was far from OK. Taking a deep breath, she dropped to her knees and bent until she could look into Tara’s eyes. “I hurt you. I know I hurt you, Tara. I was Princess Buffy when we met the first time, and you were my key to the kingdom.” Buffy paused, insides twisting at the tears obscuring the other girl’s eyes. “Nothing mattered except earning my place with the ‘in’ crowd.”

 

She would have continued if Tara hadn’t raised a shaking hand. “Pl-please don’t.” Still huddled in the chair, Tara continued. “It’s over, Buffy. W-We aren’t the same peop-people we were then.”

 

It was what Buffy wanted to hear – and yet it wasn’t enough. Tara had to understand how much she regretted her past actions. “It may be over, but you…You still remember.” And she hadn’t. Buffy closed her eyes against an image of Tara’s face when she’d come into the room yesterday morning. “It still bothers you, and I want you to know…” Trailing off, Buffy held out her hands. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” Her stomach burned as she glanced past Tara and stared at the mantle. “This isn’t about me at all.”

 

Jumping to her feet, Buffy wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I’m surprised you haven’t run for the door or turned me into a frog.” Her lips twisted in wry, self-mocking humor. “Or a rat. Will’s got a great spell for that, if you want to borrow it.”

 

***

 

Even without using her inner sight, Tara could sense Buffy’s real regret and her patented disbelief that she would be forgiven. For years, Tara had imagined this moment. She’d fantasized about it.

 

Reality wasn’t as satisfying as her imagined scenarios.

 

Buffy’s embarrassment looked far too familiar. Tara remembered that cold, sick, crawling feeling in her stomach and the burn of the blush. Voice choked with that memory, she stuttered, “I w-would nev-never turn you into a r-rat.” Her own cheeks warmed, and Tara fought to get both of them onto more even emotional footing. “Their b-beady little eyes sc-scare me.”

 

It wasn’t much; however, it seemed to do the trick. Buffy’s giggle tinkled through the room. “Amy, Willow’s rat, isn’t like that,” she said softly. Looking more relaxed, she moved away from Tara and sat on the couch. “She’s a lot more…human sometimes.” Buffy ran a hand through her hair with a sigh. “Tara, I…I don’t even know where to start. Should I keep apologizing? If I say I’m sorry enough, will it help? I can’t take back what I did.” Both hands rose to frame Buffy’s face. “I wish I could.”

 

Hearing the words and seeing Buffy’s sincerity eased the weight holding Tara so deeply into the chair. She straightened slowly. “You don’t have t-to say it anym-more, Buffy. The past is over.” Smiling slightly, Tara met Buffy’s eyes. “I think the n-naked groping in the kitchen will g-give me enough leverage if you st-start getting mean again.”

 

Buffy groaned. “God, you can’t do that, Tara. You can’t.” She smiled back. “Faith is going to mention that every chance she gets. Not to mention the naked tag we played. I’ll never be able to step outside of the house if you both use that against me.” Tilting her head to the side, she asked in a little girl voice. “You wouldn’t do that, would you, Tara? You told Cave Me you’d keep me safe.”

 

The weight returned. Tara struggled to breath under the pressure. This time, though, it wasn’t from remembered humiliation. That look…the voice… Wanting to groan from the surge of renewed desire, she murmured, “Em-embarrassment won’t k-kill you.” Tara’s mother had told her that over and over.

 

“True. But it might make me kill Faith.” Buffy laughed again. “Will that change your mind?”

 

Holding firm, Tara shook her head. “No.” She needed to leave the room. Maybe putting some distance between them would help her get some perspective on what was happening. Tara’s head whirled. Her earlier reaction to Buffy in the shower and the bedroom…She understood that. Buffy had been naked – not to mention completely uninhibited. Now, though, Tara didn’t have an explanation for the way her body responded to Buffy.

 

She changed the subject abruptly. “Do you think we should check with your mother?” Buffy’s eyes widened at the question. “I mean…” Goddess help her. Tara dropped her head, taking refuge behind her hair and tried to pull herself together. “Ru-Rupert left a while ago to check on the information Faith and W-Willow found. Maybe they know how you were enspelled.”

 

“Damn. I am so not on my game right now.” Buffy stood in one smooth movement. “I can’t believe I forgot about that. You’re right. If we leave the gang on this alone for too long, Faith will get tired of listening to Will and Giles make plans and do more research and go charging off on her own.”

 

Tara wondered if there was something in the water of Sunnydale to cause all the babbling. Buffy’s words tumbled over one another at ever-increasing speed. “Um…” She climbed out of the chair and hesitated.

 

“Come on.” Buffy hadn’t noticed Tara’s lack of motion. She was already striding out of the room. “Mom’s still in the kitchen. I can hear her banging pots and pans around. I hope she made dinner. I’m starved. No way am I chasing after Faith and whoever spiked the beer on an empty stomach.”

 

As if pulled by an unseen hand, Tara followed Buffy. By the time she got to the kitchen, though, Buffy was perched on a stool at the island munching on a handful of chips.

 

“Have a seat, Tara. The rest of the meal will be ready in a few minutes.” Mrs. Summers narrowed her eyes at Buffy. “Ignore my daughter. Not all of her cave habits were a result of the spell. She’s very much: see food, eat food.”

 

Buffy stopped mid-chew. She looked very deliberately at Tara and then at Joyce – and grunted.

 

It was too much. Forgetting about her concerns about her reaction to Buffy, Tara giggled. “Did she at least ask about F-Faith and Willow before she started eating?” She found that teasing Buffy was easy, and she enjoyed the way Buffy went along with the joke.

 

“I did; thank you very much,” Buffy mumbled around her mouthful. She swallowed quickly. “Nothing new. Will’s still slaving over the keyboard and Giles has Faith burning off some energy patrolling around the frat houses in case there are other cases of cave people. We’re heading over to the apartment for a Scooby research party as soon as Mom gets dinner packed up.”

 

“Scooby?” Tara recognized the word. “We’re watching cartoons while we look for the wizard?”

 

Joyce coughed in a poorly executed attempt to hide a laugh. “Actually, it normally feels like we’re living in a cartoon, honey.” Stacking a set of Tupperware containers on the counter, she pointed to Buffy. “When Willow and her friend Xander first discovered Buffy’s secret identity as the Slayer, they came up with the name. They’ve been the embodiment of Fred, Daphne, and Velma ever since.”

 

This was priceless. Not looking at Buffy so she could keep a straight face, Tara asked, “So…Buffy is Daphne?” She tried to sound innocent; she suspected she failed miserably as her voice shook with suppressed mirth.

 

Cave Buffy made another brief reappearance. Sliding off the stool, Buffy growled and glowered at Tara. “Tara bad. Make fun of Buffy.” She stalked toward Tara with her hands outstretched and her fingers flexing threateningly.

 

“Which character would you prefer, Buffy?” Mrs. Summers winked at Tara. “Fred? I’m not sure you’d look good in an Ascot.

 

Buffy’s advance slowed, and Tara used the extra time to hide behind a kitchen chair. “That only leaves V-Velma, and I’m pretty sure Willow has that one lo-locked up.” She shared a grin with Mrs. Summers.

 

“Fine. I give up,” Buffy said, raising her hands in the universal symbol of surrender. “Even without the spell, I’m no match for the two of you.” Her lower lip protruded in a pout as she resumed her seat at the island. “How long until we’re ready to roll, Mom?” For a second, Tara thought she seemed uncomfortable. “Maybe I should head on over to Will’s, and you and Tara could follow.”

 

Tara’s mental light bulb went on. “Wh-Why don’t I go with you?” she asked softly. “I can work with R-Rupert on the magic angle while you…talk with W-Willow?” There was no way Buffy would have an opportunity to make amends with her best friend if Rupert were there as an audience.

 

Her offer got a reaction from Buffy and Mrs. Summers.

 

“You don’t have to go.” Buffy was the first to speak. “I mean, I’m not all Cave-y anymore. I promise I won’t growl at Will again.”

 

On her way to the stove, Mrs. Summers reached out and poked Buffy’s arm. “I don’t think Tara is afraid you’re going to start attacking people, Buffy. She’s been helping us since before we discovered you at the bar. In fact, she’s the one who found out about the spell.” Mrs. Summers glanced at Tara, meeting her eyes as she continued. “Let her help you with Willow and Rupert.”

 

“OK,” Buffy said reluctantly. She hopped off the stool. “Remember, Mom – take the Jeep and call before you leave. One of us will be watching for you. No trying to carry the food in on your own.  It’s dark outside.”

 

This must have been an old argument. Mrs. Summers rolled her eyes. “Yes, Buffy,” she singsonged. “I promise not to go anywhere dark without an escort. I have stakes, holy water, and a cross in my jacket pocket. If anything seems wrong, I’ll go to a well-lit, public place and turn on the Bat Signal.”

 

Tara had to hide a grin by rubbing at her face when Buffy grumbled and stomped out of the kitchen. She turned to follow when Mrs. Summers spoke again. “Thank you, Tara.”

 

Stopping, Tara looked over her shoulder. “I d-don’t mind helping. Buffy’s fr-friends don’t seem to know a lot about magic.”

 

 “I don’t mean with the magic – and you know it.” Tara shifted under Mrs. Summers’ patently maternal expression. “Don’t try to snow me, young lady. Buffy may not have figured out why you’re tagging along. I have.” The look softened. “She needs to apologize and talk to Willow. Poor Rupert will be so into his research and finding out if it is Ethan causing all the trouble, he won’t give the girls a chance to be alone. Thank you for helping make that possible.”

 

Blushing brightly, Tara murmured a choked, “You’re welcome,” and fled.

 

Buffy was waiting by the door. “Ready to go?” Without waiting for Tara to answer, she opened the door and stepped outside. “We should hurry. Faith’s patrolling alone, and, with the spelled beer out there, she might need a hand.”

 

She set such a quick pace that Tara had to run to keep up. “I th-thought you wanted to help Willow with the research?” And do some apologizing, too.

 

A tide of red swept up Buffy’s face. “I do,” she protested weakly. “I’m not really good with the book work, though. I’m sure Will and Giles would be happier if I was out with Faith. I’m the Slayer, after all. Patrolling and killing evil is what I do.”

 

Tara was fairly certain there was more to it than that.  She didn’t stop to consider her words. “You don’t want to talk with W-Willow, do you?” Tara asked.

 

CHAPTER 22

 

Buffy stopped so abruptly that Tara cannoned into her back. “Buffy?” Was something wrong? Had her question upset Buffy?

 

“You’ve been here what? A day?” Resuming their walk - albeit more slowly - Buffy scowled at the sidewalk. “And you already see right through me. That can’t be good; not even Mom does that after all these years. You’ll know all of my secrets soon.”

 

Now Tara understood. She’d been right about Buffy’s reluctance to approach Willow about what had happened between them. “How many secrets do you have?” she asked with a smile. They needed to keep this conversation light; too much seriousness might have Buffy running for campus and bypassing Willow completely. Tilting her head, Tara regarded Buffy closely. “I know about you being the Slayer, seen you without clothes, and I’ve watched you skate…minus the skates and ice. Is there something else I should see or hear?”

 

“Oh, God. I am so screwed.” Eyes wide with exaggerated fear, Buffy turned so she faced Tara. Walking backward with her hands raised as if to ward off an attack, she pleaded, “Don’t say any more. Please. Leave me at least the illusion that I’ll live today down.”

 

“Well,” Tara drawled. Her smile grew. “I might agree to that if…”

 

Buffy dropped her hands and sidled closer. “If?” Her shoulder brushed Tara’s. “If what? I make Mom promise to feed you for the rest of your life? I have Will do your homework? How about if Faith escorts you to and from all of your classes? Is that enough or do you want more?”

 

Enjoying the banter, Tara almost forgot the reason for their trip across town. However, Buffy’s mention of Faith did the trick. “I can’t believe you.” She mock glowered. “Now you have me doing it, too. We are not avoiding Willow any longer. We’re going to the apartment, where I’ll distract Rupert long enough for you to talk to your best friend, Buffy!”

 

***

 

It was the right thing to do. Intellectually, Buffy knew that; however, the realization didn’t help with the swarm of butterflies zipping around in her stomach. “Right. You’re right,” she mumbled. As Buffy  turned away from Tara, she tried to convince herself the talk with Willow wouldn’t be as bad as she imagined. They’d been through a lot already. Not to mention this wasn’t even the first time Buffy had been in the wrong or hurt Willow with something she’d done.

 

Somehow, the memory of her previous acts of random thoughtlessness didn’t make Buffy feel any more confident. The rest of the walk took on a macabre resemblance to a march to the gallows. Each step dragged at Buffy’s feet, and she was only dimly aware that she and Tara were barely moving.

 

“At this rate, we might get there tomorrow,” Tara said. “Your mom will be on her way, see us, and stop to give us a ride.”

 

Buffy squirmed under Tara’s disappointed look. “Well, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about her getting munched when she carried the food up to Willow’s apartment.” The excuse sounded lame even to her own ears. Sighing deeply, Buffy forced her leaden legs to pick up the pace. “But then I wouldn’t have a chance to talk to Will.” She had to do that.

 

“Exactly.” Tara said with a smile, and Buffy remembered the way she’d felt…or the way Cave Buffy had felt when she’d seen that expression back at the house. “That’s why I’m here: to make sure you get that chance.” She reached out and brushed Buffy’s arm with her hand, causing a shiver in Buffy she didn’t understand since it was a warm evening. “I’m sure she’ll listen to what you have to say.”

 

More likely, Willow would do all the talking. Buffy had no illusions about that. Willow had listened in the Bronze, and she’d listened to the growl and the “Buffy no like Willow” in the kitchen. To distract herself from the rapid-fire lecture she was anticipating, Buffy began scanning the area for vampires – and frowned. There weren’t any. Not a single blip on the Slayer radar. “That’s weird,” she said.

 

“Why is that weird?” Tara moved closer and peered at Buffy questioningly. “Willow didn’t s-seem like the kind of person who wouldn’t listen to your explanations.”

 

Oops. Buffy smiled slightly and shook her head. “No. Not that. I was searching for vampires nearby. It’s weird that I didn’t feel any. This is prime hunting time.” A seed of honesty made her admit, “Will is a very nice person; a great friend, Tara. I hurt her a lot, and she’s going to be mad…”

 

“That’s to be expected, Buffy.” Tara’s eyes should be registered as lethal weapons.

 

Buffy flushed and wanted to flinch from the penetrating look she received. Flinch and throw herself into Tara’s arms and cry.

 

Before the first tear could fall, though, Tara went on. “People usually get angry when they are hurt. It’s a defense mechanism. True friends can get past that and forgive.”

 

Did that mean Tara would never be able to forgive what Buffy had done to her in the past? They weren’t friends. At least, not yet. Buffy straightened slightly. Tara had hung around to help with the spell, and now she was on her way to Willow’s because she had volunteered to keep Giles busy. Maybe friendship wasn’t completely impossible. “I hope so,” she said, not entirely referring to the situation with Willow.

 

Almost as if Tara sensed the double meaning, she tilted her head and frowned.

 

Rushing in to forestall any more questions, Buffy asked, “If we find Ethan, can you stop him? I mean, stop any spells he might try?” Willow had tried to explain the nuances of magic over the years, but Buffy had never really grasped the concept.

 

“I d-don’t know.” Tara glanced down, and her hair fell forward.

 

Buffy frowned. Why did Tara do that? It wasn’t like there was anyone else around, and she wasn’t about to make fun of Tara for not knowing the answer. She reached out and slid a hand into the waterfall of blonde hair before tucking it behind Tara’s ear. That was better. “OK. We’ll add that to the list of things to research. We can even give it a nifty name – Eradicating Ethan. Giles will be thrilled that I actually want to do book work.”

 

They finally reached downtown. Buffy broke off and went on alert. The lack of evil disappeared had disappeared with a bang. There were a host of vampires pinging on the radar now.

 

“Tr-trouble?” Tara appeared to notice something, too. Her eyes roamed the busy sidewalks restlessly.

 

“Not sure,” Buffy replied softly. “We’ve got company; although, I can’t pinpoint them.” It was making her nervous. The warning cramp from her senses increased the farther they got into the main business district – and she had yet to see any overt signs of the vampires. Stealth wasn’t normally their thing. Talking with Willow and Giles suddenly seemed even more urgent than before. Had they missed the signs of something big hitting town? Buffy’s pace picked up automatically at the thought. “Come on,” she told Tara tersely. “We need to hurry.”

 

Tara obligingly began to jog alongside her. She was panting after only a couple of blocks.

 

If Buffy hadn’t been in the grip of her Slayer senses, she would have slowed down. She didn’t feel as if she had that option at the moment. Wrapping her left arm firmly around Tara, Buffy half-supported, half-dragged Tara through the downtown area and into the residential district buffering the town’s center from the college. “Almost there,” she encouraged Tara. “That’s the complex up ahead.”

 

She got a grim head bob in acknowledgement, and then Tara pulled away slightly to run on her own.

 

They pounded through the side gate to the stairs, and Buffy slowed to a walk in order to keep from leaving Tara behind. The call of her senses be damned; they’d make it to the apartment soon enough. After an eternity, the fourth floor landing came into view. Buffy sprang up the last few steps and knocked energetically on Willow’s door. “Will, it’s me. Open up!”

 

The door wrenched open a second later. Willow stood just inside the entryway – and didn’t move to let Buffy in.

 

Buffy forgot all about the vampires. “Will…Um…” Floundering, she could only stare into Willow’s bloodshot and puffy eyes.

 

Tara came to her rescue. “Can we come in, Willow? I have some information for Rupert.” She didn’t wait for an invitation before stepping across the threshold and gently pushing Willow out of the way. “Why don’t you and Buffy get us some drinks while I fill him in on the latest?”

 

Drinks were the last thing on her mind as Buffy slipped into the apartment past a still-silent Willow. “Sure. We can do that,” she muttered. “Drinks for everyone.” If she was lucky, Willow wouldn’t brain her with the milk jug. Not looking back to see if Willow would follow, Buffy headed for the kitchen.

 

“No more Cave Buffy, I take it.” The soft, monotone announcement from behind Buffy indicated that Willow had, in fact, joined her in the drink hunt.

 

Slowly turning around and pressing her back against the countertop, Buffy nodded. “Just me, Will. Plain old, non-boozy, non-grunting, very, very sorry Buffy.” She watched Willow closely as she spoke, noticing the way her freckles seemed to glow against her pale face. “I’m sorry, Willow,” Buffy repeated.

 

Willow didn’t respond. She leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and crossed her arms.

 

Great. Feeling tears burn her eyes, Buffy crossed her own arms and bit her lip. “I screwed up, Will.” Then a stab of righteous anger wended through the regret. “You knew that, though. You knew what I was like at Hemery. I told you before, even if…” The anger drained away, and Buffy’s voice dropped in volume. “Even if I didn’t give you details.”

 

Silence filled the kitchen again, and Buffy might have given up if she hadn’t seen the single tear making its way down Willow’s cheek.

 

“I apologized to Tara, Will, the second the spell wore off,” Buffy rushed on. “She said…she said she forgives me.” She tried a smile, feeling her lips twist into a wry grimace instead. “I’m not sure I believe her, though. What I did…It still bothers her, but she’s willing to give me a chance to make it up.”

 

“That’s nice,” Willow finally said. Her voice wavered and squeaked, and Buffy recognized the symptoms of a long crying jag in the tones.

 

The habits of a best friend had Buffy across the kitchen with her arms around Willow in seconds. “I’d never do anything like that now, Will. You know that. I’m not Princess Buffy anymore.” The body in her arms was stiff, and there was not even a hint the embrace would be returned. Buffy ignored that, though, and went on. “I’m sorry if what I told you made you disappointed in me. To be honest, I’m disappointed in me. If you and Xan and the Slayer thing hadn’t happened, I’d probably be competing for the Queen of Mean title.” She tightened her arms around Willow. “I’m not – and that’s all because of you. You, Willow.”

 

Willow’s head dropped until it rested on Buffy’s shoulder.

 

Buffy began to smile. This was familiar. Willow had forgiven her.

 

The internal celebration ended abruptly only a second later. “That’s not what it sounded like earlier, Buffy. You weren’t thanking me for opening your eyes to how big a meanie you’d been when I saw you in your mom’s kitchen.”

 

Oh, shit. “Will…” Buffy tried to interrupt.

 

She was too late. Willow’s soft voice continued on inexorably. “In fact, you didn’t even want me around anymore. You told me you didn’t like me – and you growled to make that clear. Which is it, Buffy? Am I your best friend, someone who helps you keep Princess Buffy at bay, or am I just someone you used to like?”

 

CHAPTER 23

 

“You’re my best friend, Willow!” Buffy didn’t even pause to consider that because it was a given. “What happened in the kitchen…” She wanted to writhe in embarrassment at the memory. “God, that wasn’t me, Will.”

 

Willow didn’t accept that. “It was you, Buffy. Maybe you on drugs, but it was you.” Her voice broke. “I ran out on you when you tried to explain everything in the Bronze. What kind of best friend does that?” She wiggled and went to pull away from Buffy. “If I were you, I wouldn’t like me, either.”

 

Now it all made sense. It wasn’t just what Cave-Buffy had said; it was also what Willow had done and said to Buffy at the Bronze.Refusing to let Willow move out of her embrace, Buffy  whispered, “We both made mistakes, huh? I shouldn’t have sprung the news on you at the Bronze. I should have owned up a long time ago, but I was afraid. I knew what Cordelia did to you over the years, and I thought you’d lump me in with her and the Cordettes.”

 

“Not anymore, Buffy. Never.” Willow’s head rose from Buffy’s shoulder, and her tear-filled eyes met Buffy’s. “You’re nothing like Cordelia!”

 

“Then why the big blow up?” Buffy had to know. “If you don’t think I’m like that anymore…Why?”

 

Lids dropped over Willow’s eyes, and her cheeks turned fiery red. “I don’t know, Buffy.” Stiffening in disbelief, Buffy started to demand a better answer and then Willow rushed on. “I mean, I was going to tell you it didn’t matter. That I understood what happened at Hemery. And…and all of a sudden, I was the old me, Buffy. Afraid and shy and bullied. I hated those feelings.” Her eyes opened again; although, she looked somewhere near Buffy’s ear rather than make eye contact. “So I ran.”

 

“We’re some pair, Will.” Chuckling softly, Buffy let her hands fall to her side as she slipped away from the counter. “You freak at the return of defenseless Hacker Willow. And me?” She opened the refrigerator and pulled out cans of soda. “I think the whole world’s against me and nearly become a notch on a very notchy bedpost.”

 

She’d forgotten that Willow didn’t know about her time with Parker. “What?” Voice rising to a squeak, Willow surged forward and grabbed Buffy’s arm. “What do you mean? What happened, Buffy? Is that why you were in the bar?”

 

Buffy had forgotten that Willow didn’t know about her time with Parker. “Ah…” Not ready to make that admission, she blatantly changed the topic. “Can you grab some glasses, Will? The cans don’t feel very cold, and we’ll need some ice.”

 

Willow’s laser-like look burned into Buffy. “What happened, Buffy? I’m not letting you not talk about this!”

 

Of course she wasn’t. Grumbling, Buffy slumped and gave in. “Fine. I can’t believe you’re giving me Resolve Face over this.” She pouted and glanced at Willow. “That’s so not fair.” The look didn’t fade, and Buffy surrendered. “I met a guy at the Bronze – after you…left.”

 

“Do I need to have Faith make him sorry?” Willow asked immediately.

 

That got a laugh out of Buffy. “No, Will. If I wanted Parker to be all bruise-y, I could do it myself. I am a Slayer, remember?” She grinned at Willow’s huff. “Nothing happened…then. I went to Mom’s, borrowed her shoulder for a long crying jag, and spent the night. Alone,” she reinforced. “When I went looking for you this morning, I ran into Parker again.” The story got harder from there. “We…we went back to his frat house. To meet some of his friends.”

 

Buffy stopped talking for a minute and concentrated on finding the glasses that Willow was obviously not going to supply. When the task was complete, she continued. “We did. Meet some of Parker’s friends and played pool. It was nice, and I thought it was going to be OK. Then, right before we left, I got a chance to look around his room while he talked with the guys.” The tinkle of ice in the empty glasses was loud; almost as loud as the remembered conversation she’d overheard in Wolfhouse. “Slayer hearing sucks sometimes, you know?”

 

“Buffy?” Willow reached out and took Buffy’s hand. It was warm in contrast to Buffy’s frozen one. “What happened? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

 

“Define hurt, Will,” Buffy whispered sadly. “I thought sharing a morning after kiss with Angelus hurt. I have to admit, though, that hearing my new friend and possible date discussing how many points he’d get for having sex with me rates pretty high on the Hurt Meter, too.”

 

It was clear they were back on familiar footing when Willow wrapped both arms around Buffy and held on tight. “I’ll turn him into a rat for you if you want, Buff. Let Amy have him.” Willow’s voice was fierce. “No one gets to hurt my best friend like that and get away with it.”

 

 The comment eased the ache in Buffy’s chest and she laughed softly. “Don’t worry about it. It’s the least of our problems right now. And…” She turned in Willow’s embrace. “I’ve got you back in my camp. Parker? Who needs him?”

 

Willow beamed. “Thanks, Buffy. I really am sorry for running away…”

 

To stop any more discussion of the past, Buffy placed a finger over Willow’s lips. “We’re good, Will. It’s over. Now,” she announced in a firmer voice, “let’s get the drinks poured and see what our newest Scooby and Giles have managed to dig up on Ethan Eradication.”

 

***

 

Tara padded into the small living room and sat down on the floor near Rupert. There were books piled haphazardly on every surface in the room. “H-Hi. Have you f-found anything new?” she stuttered, absently reaching for one of the large, leather-bound tomes on the coffee table in front of her.

 

“I’m afraid not, my dear.” Rupert sighed impatiently and glared at the book in his hands. “There is nothing in any of these that would shed light on what Ethan hopes to accomplish. No signs or portents that indicate some dire evil in the area. I cannot imagine why he has chosen to return to Sunnydale.”

 

“Didn’t you say B-Buffy defeated him the other times he was in t-town?” Tara looked up through the curtain of her hair. “Why would this Ethan need any more reason? It s-seems like he might be m-mad and out for revenge.” It made sense. After all, Tara ruefully acknowledged, she’d entertained similar thoughts about Buffy.

 

Rupert gave her a rueful smile. “I hadn’t considered than notion. It does make sense.” Breaking off, he slumped back against the couch and rubbed his chin.

 

Tara waited for him to go on. When he didn’t, she offered, “Shouldn’t we c-concentrate on finding Ethan? Or why he chose that par-particular spell?” She pointed to all of the books. “Do you think th-these are actually going to help with that?”

 

For a second, Tara thought she’d offended Rupert. Then his glare softened. “Perhaps. At least with the information on the spell. Although…” He stopped talking and sifted through a pile of books on the couch. “I’m fairly certain Ethan used this text for the basis of the spell. I have yet to uncover a motive behind his selection. While throngs of Neanderthal college students would provide a disruption, it is not – by itself – enough of a distraction keep Buffy from her duties as a Slayer.”

 

Brow furrowed, Tara considered that. “It d-doesn’t seem like a big deal.” Relaxing enough to smile slightly, she said, “After all, even without a sp-spell, most colleges specialize in Cave Students when alcohol is involved.”

 

Rupert smiled back. “An alarming statistic, yes. If we are correct in our determination then Ethan must have had a second phase to his plot.”

 

Suddenly, a new piece of the puzzle dropped into place. “The vampires,” Tara said. She straightened and moved her hair out of her eyes. “On the way here, B-Buffy felt a lot of vampires downtown. We r-ran all the way here.” And then both she and Buffy had promptly forgotten about it when Willow opened the door. Tara shook her head. “I’m s-sorry I forgot to men-mention it.”

 

“Don’t worry, my dear. As soon as the girls are through…ah…making our drinks,” Tara looked up at the suppressed laughter in Rupert’s voice and saw his slight smile, “we can begin to examine that avenue. I’ll give Faith a call on her mobile phone, too, and have her make her way back in this direction.” He hunted through the research materials on an end table, finally holding aloft the handset to a cordless telephone. “I feel as if I’ve discovered buried treasure.”

 

As he began to dial, Tara refocused her attention on the magical text Rupert had indicated held information on Ethan’s spell. The tome was old, its pages yellowed and fragile. Carefully turning each page, Tara scanned the information, looking for…something to help explain Ethan’s plan.

 

Her perusal was interrupted by a clipped and impatient, “Faith! I am not suggesting you to return to the apartment. I am telling you!” from Rupert. When Tara glanced up, she noticed his face had turned red and his lips were pressed into a thin line as he listened to whatever Faith was saying on the phone.

 

Tuning out, as best she could, the increasingly heated conversation, Tara went back to the book. Rupert had been right; the basis for the caveman spell was here. She touched the aged paper gently as she read through the particulars. “It doesn’t make sense,” Tara whispered. The foundation of the magic fit – creating confusion and causing an age-regression in the victim. It didn’t explain Ethan’s motivation, or give any clues about his proposed goal.

 

“Bloody hell. That girl is trying to drive me mad.” Rupert returned to his seat on the couch and set the phone down with more enthusiasm than necessary. “She argued with me about returning to the apartment to examine the new information on the vampires Buffy sensed.”

 

Although Tara had only met Faith the day before, the news wasn’t shocking. She didn’t mention that, however. “Did F-Faith find anymore of the ca-cave students, sir?” If Ethan had allied with the vampires, this would be a good time for a resurgence in spell victims on the campus. Faith and Buffy would be hard pressed to fight a battle on two fronts.

 

Rupert shook his head. “Not more than a handful, I’m afraid.” His look was grim as he continued. “Faith did, however, mention that she, too, had sensed a large contingent of vampires or demons on campus. It was one of the excuses she used in her attempt to avoid returning to help with the research.”

 

“You know Faith, Giles,” Buffy commented suddenly from the hallway. “She’s big on the Slaying. Maybe I should go join her. Research is fine, but… There were a lot of vamps downtown. It’s going to be a lot harder holding them off if we’re here, buried under the books.”

 

“Buffy, we don’t know if the vampires are even the threat. What if Ethan is simply waiting for the right moment to create more havoc with his magic?” Rupert pointed out. “Neither you nor Faith actually saw any of the alleged vampires. I would hate to have you searching for them if they are merely a decoy.”  Waving his hand at the piles of books, he stated, “These have all been deemed relatively useless. I think the remaining research may be more along the lines of a strategy session. We have reached the end of our resources, I’m afraid.”

 

Tara had to agree. She’d read the particulars for the spell several times, and nothing seemed to indicate it was anything more than an attempt to create widespread panic and chaos. And that had been mostly neutralized, thanks to the discovery of Cave Buffy. “Why w-would there be so many vampires on campus? Or…Or downtown?”

 

“Campus is a good place to feed,” Buffy said with a grimace as she shoved books off the coffee table, clearing a space for the tray of drinks in her hands. “Co-eds don’t usually pay attention when they walk home from a party, and guys never think they have to be careful. Plus, there are a lot of badly lit spots, too. Faith and I spend a big portion of our patrol time there these days.”

 

“You know…” Willow had already taken a seat on the floor near Tara. “I hadn’t thought about that. Faith came in a couple of nights ago, complaining about that. It doesn’t make sense. Not that vamps don’t like a tasty sorority-girl snack. That makes perfect sense.”

 

Tara saw both Buffy and Rupert close their eyes and bow their heads slightly at Willow’s rapid-fire chatter.

 

“I’m thinking about where the vampires come from.” Willow waved both hands as she talked. “They usually hide out in crypts and warehouses. Not a lot of those anywhere near campus. How come we haven’t found a nest of them in weeks? Where are they staying, Buffy?”

 

CHAPTER 24

 

CHAPTER 24

 

“I shudder to think we have somehow missed the massing of an army of vampires.” Slumping against the back of the couch, Giles rubbed the back of his neck. “Suddenly, I find myself missing our days at Sunnydale High School. We were far more likely to stumble upon likely dangers when we met in the library. It is exceedingly difficult to muster the same thoroughness now that we are all scattered across town.”

 

“Right,” Buffy agreed. She rolled her eyes. “Because it takes me a whole five minutes longer to walk from campus to your apartment these days. Not to mention that those of us not ready for retirement are actually more likely to have a personal life now that we aren’t living at the library.” Then she, too, slumped. “I guess I’m not really doing so much better at that, though…” 

 

Tara watched both of them for a minute. Lost in their own inner monologues, neither shook off their mood or seemed at all interested in continuing the strategy session. Trying to prod everyone back to work, she said, “W-Willow, where else could the vam-vampires hide? Don’t they usually s-stay in the cemeteries or…” She tried to remember what she had heard from Rupert and Joyce earlier. “…warehouses?”

 

At least Willow was still participating in the planning. “Yep. I don’t even want to think about the number of creepy old buildings Faith’s dragged me through. The area out by the docks is good, too. Not a lot of people out there and most of the structures are abandoned these days. On campus, though? Not so many good hiding spots.” She grinned suddenly. “I don’t remember any of the fraternities that require their pledges to avoid sunlight. I guess we aren’t looking for a fake frat house.”

 

Shaking off her moodiness, Buffy said, “Too bad. It would be nice if things were that simple. Can you just see the pledges? All pasty and dressed in their best seventies leisure suits. We’d spot them a mile away.”

 

“Since that is unlikely to happen, perhaps we might consider the possibility that there are caves or underground tunnels nearby?” Giles straightened and rejoined the conversation, too. “I believe I remember something from our research concerning the Mayor last year. Can you find us the topographical maps of the campus, Willow? They may be able to verify the information.”

 

“Sure.” Hopping up, Willow left the room. “Just let me grab my laptop, Giles.” Her voice drifted down the hallway, faint yet somehow still infused with her excitement. “I can hack into the university’s system in no time. Their electronic security is really bad. I keep emailing them about it, but they never listen.”

 

In a very quiet voice, Buffy mocked, “Well, I guess Will will teach them, huh?”

 

Tara giggled. “And if they c-catch her, she can simply say that she’d warned them and they hadn’t listened. This was Willow’s l-last attempt to m-make them see reason, after all.” She could picture the scene, too: a very righteous Willow upbraiding a group of middle-aged bureaucrats.

 

Even Giles cracked a smile at that.

 

“Hey, what’s so funny? Did you figure out the hiding spot without me?” Willow asked with a pout as she returned clutching her computer. Resuming her seat on the floor, she shook her head. “What am I saying? I know better. There aren’t even any open books around. You’ve just been making fun of me, haven’t you? Good Old Reliable Hacker Will…”

 

Starting to stiffen at the accusation, Tara saw the way Willow watched Buffy as she talked – and the smirk she wore. This wasn’t serious. This was some kind of good-natured payback. She relaxed back into the chair and watched their interaction, enjoying the easy camaraderie.

 

Buffy confirmed her suspicions about Willow’s revenge by blushing brightly. “Will! I said I was sorry! Come on…” Holding her hands out in supplication, she pleaded, “Don’t be mean. I won’t ever take you for granted again. I remember what happened the last time.”

 

The front door flew open suddenly, cutting off the rest of Buffy’s comments. “Last time?” Faith asked as she stepped into the apartment. Her arms were loaded with Tupperware containers. “Did I miss the fun, B? You about to go all Cave-y and mouth off to Red again?”

 

The atmosphere in the room chilled, and Tara prayed that things wouldn’t escalate. Faith and Buffy appeared ready for more than a verbal discussion.

 

Buffy scowled at Faith. “No,” she said shortly. “But I might have a few things to say to you.”

 

“Girls, I don’t care if Buffy is about to revert and go hunting the Little People. I need a hand getting the rest of dinner into the kitchen so we can eat. Stop with the attitudes and do something useful.” Joyce appeared in the doorway carrying more containers.

 

Buffy’s scowl only deepened. “I thought you were going to call when you got here.”

 

“Don’t climb on your soapbox, B. I found Mrs. S in the parking lot. If it makes you feel any better, she was punching numbers into her cell when I knocked on the window.” Faith grinned suddenly. “Nearly got my ass staked, too. She’s got wicked reflexes.”

 

Everyone except Buffy laughed. “You probably deserved it.” Finally, though, Buffy seemed to lose her irritation. “Good thing Mom missed. Will just forgave me for my Dumb Buffy Day; I don’t think she’d be so nice over Staked Faith.” She hopped off the couch and pulled most of the Tupperware out of Joyce’s hands. “Come on. I’m starving.”

 

In the blink of an eye, everything was back to normal. Feeling a little off-balance from the rapid shifts in mood, Tara turned to Willow. “Is it always like this?”

 

With a gamin grin, Willow said, “Oh, no. This is tame. If they’re both having tantrums, it usually ends up in a fight. This was just a little Slayer posturing. They both want us all to think they’re Top Dog.”

 

She didn’t sound at all upset by that, and Tara wondered if Buffy friends needed psychiatric help.

 

Glancing around to see if Rupert or Joyce were paying attention, Willow lowered her voice. “Don’t tell Faith I told you, but…it’s all for show. Buffy and Faith may not always get along, but I think they pick at each other because they enjoy it.”

 

Wanting to shake her head at that bit of logic, Tara murmured a soft, “Oh. OK,” and let the subject drop. If she spent too much time thinking about it, her head would explode. Instead, she got up and looked around the room. “Should we help Mrs. S-Summers set things up, too?” Or clean up the literary debris in the living room? She’d seen the kitchen. It wasn’t large enough to hold all of them.

 

“Nope. We’ll eat in here.” Willow didn’t bother moving from her spot on the floor. She returned to typing on her laptop as she talked. “Welcome to your first official Scooby Research Party. Pull up a book or scroll and have some dinner. Just be careful not to spill anything on the pages. It makes Giles cranky.”

 

***

 

Buffy led the procession into the kitchen. The back of her neck itched and her shoulders knotted with tension. When was Faith going to start? Waiting wasn’t her style, and she had so many new things to bring to the table this time. The earlier jibe had been only the beginning, she was sure.

 

“So, B, did Will find anything while I was out keeping the peace?” Faith asked. She squeezed past Buffy and dropped her armload onto the counter. “’Cause I got to tell you, there wasn’t much happening on campus. I mean, from the way you were actin’ at the house, I figured there’d be fights and naked tag all over the place.”

 

There it was. Now that the teasing had started for real, Buffy felt marginally better. She hated the anticipation the worst. “Ha ha. You’re funny, Faith.” Narrowing her eyes, she glowered for effect and put her load of food on the table. “Willow did find something. Or…she was looking for it. You and Mom came in before we got to the good part.”

 

As usual, Faith looked ready to charge out the door at the news. “We gonna need the heavy stuff or will stakes do? I got this new sword that Red found on e-Bay.”

 

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Buffy crossed her arms. “Faith, we don’t have the information yet. Where would we go with the new sword? What would we kill with it?” She had to pause to move out of Joyce’s way.

 

It was long enough to let Faith back into the conversation. “Right.” Was that a slump in Faith’s shoulders? Buffy wasn’t quick enough to get a second look because Faith stalked to the refrigerator and yanked open the door. “So we still ain’t got a plan. Do you at least know if it’s the costume man doing all this shit?”

 

“That’s the last I heard.” Buffy refrained from saying anything more. If she did, they’d end up in a fight and she wasn’t up to that. It really had been a long day - not to mention she didn’t want to give Willow another reason to be upset with her. “The big news now has to do with all the vamps we’ve felt in town. Tara and I got a taste of them downtown. It nearly blew my head off, and I tried to turn Tara into a marathon runner to get here before we got munched.”

 

“Talk and carry, ladies.” Joyce held out a large tray filled with plates of spaghetti. “The bread and silverware are ready to go, too,” she added with a significant look at a second (smaller) tray on the counter. “You know how Willow and Rupert like to have an audience for whatever they’ve discovered. At least if you’re eating while they talk, there’s less chance you’ll fall asleep.”

 

Faith snorted. “Nah, I ain’t gone to sleep during the research thing since Red cracked me in the head with that spell book. Think I still got a bump.” With a wink, she took the tray out of Joyce’s hands. “The food’s a good idea, though, Mrs. S. Keeps me from sayin’ something stupid and getting her all riled up.”

 

Feeling a sense of déjà vu, Buffy picked up the second tray and trotted after Faith. The research gang hadn’t moved; although, she noticed a few cleared areas amid the piles of books. Depositing her tray on one of these, Buffy handed a napkin and utensils to Giles.

 

“Thank you, Buffy.” He immediately shook out the paper napkin and perched it on his knee. “Are we ready to proceed? I believe Willow has the information on the area around campus, and I am curious if we were correct about possible locations for the vampires.”

 

“I guess.” Buffy cocked an eyebrow at Faith as she shoved plates of food at Tara and Willow. “Faith’s nearly finished handing out dinner.” Making sure to keep up with her part, she quickly set out more napkins and silverware before sitting on the floor across from the couch. “What do you have for us, Will?”

 

She caught Willow with a mouthful of bread. Chewing frantically and waving one slender hand, Willow tried to clear her mouth. After a few seconds, she said, “Giles was right, guys. There are tunnels under the campus. And caves. Not under the campus. Around campus. You know…” She seemed to realize she was babbling, and Buffy watched her press her lips together as if to stop the flood of words. When Willow resumed talking, her voice was more controlled. “The tunnels were part of the old maintenance plan, but they’ve been sealed off for years. I do have a map, though. I couldn’t find anything specific on the caves.”

 

Sealed off… “You mean, the tunnels were sealed off,” Buffy murmured as she placed her plate on her knee and twirled spaghetti around the tines of her fork. “If there are a lot of vampires moving in, I don’t think we can assume those tunnels are closed anymore. That has to be where the vamps are. You said Faith felt the vampires on campus; unless I heard you wrong, that makes the caves a bad choice. ” Why would there be a horde of vampires hiding under the college?

 

“Why?” Faith asked around a mouthful, echoing Buffy’s thought. Her words were garbled as she continued. “We ain’t seen anything about a new Master, and there hasn’t been a big body count. If we got so many vamps, what are they eating? Fang’s the only one that don’t mind the rats – and he’s in LA.”

 

“Indeed; that is an excellent question, Faith,” Giles responded. “From your and Buffy’s reports lately, demonic activity has been quiet.” Frowning, he idly pushed the food around on his plate. “When did you begin to sense the increase in vampires on campus?”

 

This time, Faith held up a hand as she chewed and swallowed. “’Two, maybe three weeks ago.”

 

She’d known all this time and hadn’t said anything? “You should have told us, Faith.” Buffy put down her fork and glared at Faith. “What if we could have stopped…” Her words trailed off. They didn’t even know there was anything to stop. Not letting that slow her for long, Buffy forged on. “…whatever before it got started. My Slayer senses were so freaking tonight.”

 

CHAPTER 25

 

CHAPTER 25

 

“Sure, B. The next time I got a itch in the Slayer senses, I’ll just give you a call,” Faith said. Raising a hand and pretending to hold a phone to her ear, she continued. “Hey, B…I just did a trip through Restfield. Got me some vamps on the radar.” She paused and met Buffy’s eyes. “Nah. Can’t tell where…No. Couldn’t get a count, neither. Think it’s something big, though. It’s like a gong going off in my head.”

 

For a second, Buffy wondered if the fork in her hand was going to survive. One end bent under her grip as she glared at Faith. “It would have been better than…”

 

“W-Willow,” Tara interrupted suddenly. “Do you th-think we could take a look at the tun-tunnels? Was there a m-main entrance?”

 

Reluctantly, Buffy looked away from Faith and concentrated on the planning session. To keep herself from saying anything further, she stuffed a huge bite of spaghetti into her mouth and chewed.

 

“Um…yeah. I think there are a few places we could get in.” Willow typed quickly and then spun her laptop around so they all had a view of the screen. “One at the edge of campus by the Field House, one near the psychology building, and one close to the dorms.” Before Buffy got a good look at the map, Willow flipped the laptop again. “Give me a minute. I’m going to access all of the old maintenance reports. If the records are good enough, I might be able to see if there’s a chance one of the entrances isn’t as blocked as we think.”

 

“Is that the best plan?” Joyce shifted on the couch. “I know it’s the Scooby way to charge in with stakes raised, but this seems a little thin on planning.”

 

Buffy stifled a sigh. Couldn’t her mother come up with something new? It was the same question every time a new evil dropped in for a visit. “Mom,” she started softly, “we can’t plan if we don’t have more information. We can’t get more information unless we check out the tunnels.” Then, because she really didn’t want to brush off the concern, Buffy tacked on, “I promise we’ll be careful. I’ll put Faith on a leash and I won’t let her run off on her own.”

 

The second Buffy stopped talking, a piece of garlic bread smacked into the side of her head. “That wasn’t nice!” Willow pointed a slender finger at Buffy and narrowed her eyes.

 

Despite the scolding, Buffy saw Willow’s lips twitch. “Give it up, Will. You know I’m right.” Then, going in for the kill, she added, “And I bet you’re thinking that maybe I shouldn’t be the one holding onto the leash, huh?”

 

Bulls’ eye. Willow’s face went crimson and her mouth opened and closed silently.

 

Raising her hands in victory, Buffy did a seated version of a victory dance until Giles cleared his throat. “As amusing as you may find the situation, Buffy, I’m afraid we do need to come up with a strategy. While I agree that you and Faith should explore the tunnels, I do not want to place either of you in unnecessary risk.”

 

“Ain’t gonna be any risk, Tweed,” Faith growled. “Not to me, anyway.” She glared at Buffy. “The Princess’ll be too tied up to tag along and get in the way. There’s more than  one use for a leash.”

 

Buffy flashed Faith a big smile. “What’s the matter? Can’t you take a little teasing?”

 

She might have pushed too hard. Only Willow’s hand on Faith’s arm seemed to be keeping the other Slayer from springing at Buffy. “Might want to be careful, B. I mean…I’m thinking you don’t remember this afternoon. I ain’t the best artist in the world; that don’t mean I can’t see how good you’d look on paper. Cave Buffy in all her glory – and me havin’ to hold her under the water to scrub her up.”

 

The words hung in the air, and Buffy’s smile disappeared. “You wouldn’t.” Even as she protested, Buffy knew that Faith would.

 

“Got me a sketch book in the bedroom, B,” Faith said, confirming Buffy’s fears.

 

Fine. If Faith wanted to be that way, it was time to get back to work. “What do you want us to do, Giles?” Turning away from Faith’s triumphant smirk, Buffy steered the conversation back to the task at hand. “It seems simple enough. Faith and I head to campus, see if the tunnels are blocked. If not, we do a little vamp killing.”

 

“Wh-what if it’s not just vam-vampires?” Tara’s soft question brought Buffy up short. “I know th-that’s what you f-felt in town. We h-haven’t found the m-mage, though. Do you th-think he might be th-there, too?”

 

“Uh…” Magic wasn’t something they’d had to deal with before, and Buffy floundered. “I guess so.” She looked at the closest thing the Scoobies had to a magical expert – Willow. “What do you think, Will?”

 

Shrugging, Willow said, “He might. If he’s teamed up with whatever you and Faith felt.”

 

“OK then. If he is there, what do we do? How do we stop him?” This was more like it. Buffy relaxed against the couch as things started to come together. They’d have the plan Giles wanted in no time. Her relaxation lasted mere seconds, though.

 

“Don’t ask me, Buffy.” Unfortunately, Willow seemed to have willingly abdicated her position as Magic Girl. “I’m still a beginner in all things arcane. When we ran into the mage – who we only think is Ethan – Tara was running the show. I was just along for the magical roller coaster ride.”

 

***

 

Tara had to grit her teeth and force herself not to duck her head as she suddenly became found herself in the spotlight with everyone looking at her. “I…I’m n-not an expert,” she stuttered. Not by a long shot. “And the man at the b-bar was m-more po-powerful than I am.”

 

The news met with resistance. “It won’t be just you against him, T,” Faith assured her. “We’ll be there – me and B.” She winked and waved a hand at Buffy. “There ain’t anything that can beat the Chosen Two.” Her words broke off in a pained grunt. “Fuck, Red, what was that for? I was bein’ nice to B, just like you wanted.”

 

“Whoo hoo,” Willow answered dryly. “It might have been nice, but you left out something important.” Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Faith. “Tara won’t be alone because you, Buffy, and I will be there to help. You and the Cave Slayer over there are good with sharp, pointy things. When the magic starts flying, though, I don’t see you chanting in Sumerian and lobbing fireballs.”

 

“W-Willow, I don’t…” Tara wanted to protest that last part. Lobbing fireballs? What kind of magic had the other girl been practicing?

 

Unfortunately, Faith interrupted before Tara could complete the comment. “No way, Red. No way! You ain’t goin’.” She appeared to square off with Willow; although, neither one of them moved an inch. “Like Giles said, we don’t have any info. Who knows what shit’s using the tunnels for a home? You can go after me and B figure things out.”

 

“I agree with Faith.” Buffy leaned closer to Tara, pulling her attention away from the increasingly heated discussion.

 

“You don’t w-want Willow to go?” In deference to Buffy’s quiet voice, Tara whispered her response. She was confused. Hadn’t Willow indicated earlier that she often went with Faith on patrol? “Why not? I m-mean, I do-don’t th-think she’ll need to do any big spells, and I w-won’t let her ch-charge off to f-fight if something happens.” Tara’s confusion faded and she nearly giggled as a sudden image of Faith and Willow in matching leashes popped into her head.

 

Not laughing proved to be a good choice, though. Buffy rolled her eyes. “No, Tara. I don’t want you to go. Will’s been in the fight since the beginning. She knows the score and she knows when to duck behind a tombstone and let me and Faith do our thing.” Reaching out, Buffy touched Tara’s arm lightly. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Tara.”

 

Buffy was serious. Her eyes met Tara’s steadily.

 

The hand on her arm was warm and strong. Tara stared at it, watching Buffy slowly stroking over her forearm and hand. “Sw-sweetie, I promise, nothing will happen to me.” Tara felt her cheeks heat from Buffy’s unexpected concern. “Really.”

 

“I ain’t arguing no more!” Tara jumped at Faith’s near bellow; she didn’t look away from Buffy, however.

 

Placing her free hand over Buffy’s, Tara smiled slightly. “You don’t w-want to have to fight with me the way Fa-Faith is fighting with Willow, do you? I only l-look like I ca-can’t defend myself.” She deliberately pushed the memory of the vampire from the Student Union out of her mind. Tara was expecting there to be trouble if they went searching in the tunnels. She’d be ready this time. “I don’t do f-fireballs, Buffy, but I can do other th-things.”

 

She could see Buffy’s disbelief in her frown and furrowed brows.

 

This called for a demonstration. Tara told herself she wasn’t showing off as she closed her eyes and centered. She only needed to do something small…It was an easy task to touch the nearest ley line and pool a tiny reservoir of borrowed energy. “Watch, Buffy,” she said. Releasing her hold on Buffy, she cupped her hand and poured the power into a single Word.  Blue flames shimmered from her outstretched palm.

 

“Son of a bitch!” Buffy’s pulled away from Tara so sharply that she bumped into the couch.

 

Tara – and her hand – resumed their spot at the center of attention. Even Faith and Willow gave up discussing who would be going into the tunnels to stare. Tara squelched the urge to close her hand and hide the magical display. “S-see?” she said instead. “If an-anything gets past you and Faith, I c-can do this. Or…” She hesitated. There was another, more effective spell, in her mother’s spell books.  “Or I c-can do a s-sunlight spell. It’s a lot more powerful.”

 

“You can do that?” Willow abandoned her argument with Faith entirely and nearly dove across the space separating her from Tara. She peered excitedly at the flames still flickering in Tara’s palm.

 

If she was honest… Tara hedged her answer. The truth wouldn’t convince Buffy to let her go with them to the tunnels. “I kn-know the spell.” Maybe with Willow’s help, she could muster enough power and control to get it to actually work.

 

“Huh. If the girls have got that kind of mojo, B, they should be safe. Besides,” Faith gave a patently fake smile, “it ain’t like we’re gonna go in with stakes flying. Mrs. S was wrong about that. All we’re doing is looking. You know, gathering some info.”

 

Surprisingly, no one commented on the unlikelihood of Faith (or Buffy) following that plan.

 

“Take the Jeep.” Joyce broke the silence by tossing her car keys to Willow. “Rupert and I will stay here and search through the books again. If you find anything…” Her gaze rested on Faith. “…or you run into trouble, call.”

 

Faith looked mutinous as she climbed to her feet. “I can’t believe you, Mrs. S. I thought you’d be different than B. Nicer or something.” Her booted feet thudded into the floor as she stalked toward the door. “You’re making it sound like I go lookin’ for a fight.”

 

“Sorry, honey,” Joyce said, and Tara nearly giggled at her unrepentant smile. “I am nicer than Buffy – but that doesn’t mean I can’t see the truth. When you and my daughter are together, bad things seem to happen. I’m just making sure that the two adults with you,” she pointed at Tara and Willow, “understand my expectations.”

 

CHAPTER 26

 

Willow brandished the car keys. “Sorry, Mrs. Summers. You know how Faith gets…”

 

A headshake and a wink answered her apology. “Go on, honey. After all these years – and raising Buffy – I’m used to tantrums. Get the information we need and come back safe. That’s all I want,” Joyce murmured.

 

For a second, Tara thought that Buffy might actually demonstrate her own displeasure at the teasing. She didn’t, however, contenting herself with a dramatic sigh and rolled eyes. “Hurry up, Will. Faith’s been outside for more than a couple of minutes. I don’t want to have to chase her through town. It’s been a long day and I’m not up to another run.”

 

Were they always like this? Tara didn’t want to laugh; it didn’t seem appropriate. “Faith’s hasn’t g-gone anywhere,” she assured Buffy in case the other girl had been serious. “I c-can f-feel her.” Quirking a smile, Tara risked a tiny joke as she climbed off the couch. “Mag-magic is b-better th-than a leash. L-less visible in p-public.”

 

Buffy’s eyes threatened to come out of her head as the rest of the room chuckled.

 

Grinning, Tara trotted for the door – and then stopped. She’d almost forgotten… “Willow, d-do you have any m-magical supplies here?” If not, they would have to stop at the local magic shop on the way to campus. The sunlight might not work, and all the other spells Tara knew would be impossible without the right equipment.

 

“Oh. Sure!” Willow strode to a coat closet near the front door and pulled out a backpack. “Here. See if I’m missing anything. I’ve got more stuff in the bedroom. Faith won’t let me carry everything at once. She thinks it’s too heavy.” Holding the bag out, she grimaced. “I think the real reason is she doesn’t trust me to do the spells right.”

 

Tara very carefully kept her face expressionless as she unzipped the bag and peered inside. Now was not the time to bring up Faith’s concern about Willow’s magic use. “Dear Goddess.” Willow had more powders, potions, and crystals in her supply kit than Tara’s mother had had in her altar room.

 

“What? Am I missing something important?” Willow scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. “I told Faith I didn’t have the right stuff.”

 

“No. No, this if f-fine.” Tara zipped the bag closed and looped the strap over her shoulder. “We h-have ev-everything we need.” And several things that Tara hadn’t recognized. Praying that the mystery supplies weren’t dangerous, she smiled at Willow. “Wh-when we get back, I’ll h-help you res-stock. Maybe Faith w-won’t be so b-bad about the bag if it’s not s-so heavy.”

 

“Cool.” Willow might have said more if Buffy hadn’t raised her left wrist and peered at an imaginary watch. “Oh, all right. Sorry, Buffy. You know how I get with the magic talk.” She turned back to the closet and grabbed a jacket. “I’m ready now.”

 

“It’s about fucking time, Red,” Faith’s impatient voice called through the door. “I was gonna see how out of shape Cave Buffy was if you didn’t get your ass in gear soon.”

 

Willow ran past Tara and wrenched open the door.  “You wouldn’t…

 

“Nah.” Tara giggled when Faith grinned. “Come on, Red. As fun as it would be to play hide and seek with B, you know I’m all about the Slaying. We got work to do. I can play with Cave Slayer anytime.”

 

***

 

The Cave Slayer references were getting old already. Stifling a growl, Buffy put a hand on Tara’s back and gently steered her out of the apartment. They needed to get the show on the road – before she and Faith crossed the line between teasing and real arguments. “Tomorrow morning, Faith,” she still had to say. “We’ll hit the training room, and I’ll show you some of the things this Cave Slayer can do.” Faith’s dimples disappeared, and Buffy smiled sunnily. It was gratifying to know that her mild threat had made its point.

 

“W-Willow, where are we go-going?” Tara’s soft question brought Buffy up short.

 

Damn it. She was doing it again. Losing track of the job. Buffy pulled her attention away from Faith and focused on Willow. “Yeah, Will. Did you find those maintenance reports?”

 

“Sorry, Buff. I got nothing. Someone…” Willow looked pointedly at Faith. “…distracted me before I could access the records. From what I remember, though, the largest and most used tunnels were next to the Social Sciences building. Why don’t we start there?”

 

It was as good a plan as any. If they went back inside to do more research, who knew how long it would take before they made it to campus? “One more trip to our home away from home. Maybe we should swing by and say hello to Professor Walsh. Bet she’d love that. Her favorite student – and me – hanging out in her office.”

 

Willow poked her in the arm. “She’d like you a lot more if you didn’t fall asleep in her class all the time.”

 

“I never…” Buffy started to protest. Then she stopped and grimaced. “It was only the one time, Will, and I’d been out patrolling all night. If Walsh wasn’t such a pain about attendance, I would have stayed in the dorm and done my sleeping in comfort.”  She fell silent as they all climbed into the Jeep and Willow pulled out of the parking lot.

 

The silence didn’t last long, though. The lights of the downtown shopping strip whipped by, and Faith asked, “How’re we gonna do this, B? You want to rip whatever’s blocking the tunnel out of the way and go in plannin’ for a fight?”

 

It was their usual way of doing things when Willow wasn’t around. However, Buffy caught Willow’s eye roll in the rearview mirror. She didn’t think it would fly right now. “Let’s check out the place first, Faith.”

 

The eyes in the mirror widened and then narrowed.

 

Rushing on, Buffy spoke to Faith – while actually trying to convince Willow of her sincerity. “I don’t really want to get caught in another spell today. One’s enough.” More than enough. “That part of campus doesn’t get a lot of traffic at night. We should be able to hide out and watch the tunnel entrance for a while.”

 

“I c-can check to see if th-there’s been an magical act-tivity, too.” Tara turned in the seat and looked directly at Buffy. “The v-vampires are only one of the pro-problems, remember?”

 

Great. Now Tara and Willow were on the same side. Slaying had been easier when it was all about the demons and vampires. Buffy felt almost nostalgic about the Master. At least he’d been up front about simply wanting to kill her. “Right. Sorry, I keep forgetting that. Is there anything else we need to be on the lookout for? What if you do find something? What do we do then?”

 

Tara seemed uncomfortable with the question.

 

“Tara?” Buffy reached across the space between them and gently touched her hand. “You don’t have to get out of the Jeep if you don’t feel up to it,” Buffy assured her, in case that’s what had Tara spooked. “Faith and I are used to going in blind. I’m sure we can handle whatever’s there.”

 

“The way you handled the thing in the bar?” Buffy wasn’t watching Willow, but she could hear the new eye roll in her question. “Buffy, you and Faith can’t handle everything. I know you think you can. But you can’t.”

 

“She’s right,” Tara agreed softly. Her lips twitched into a half-smile. “M-magic isn’t something you can b-beat up.” Dropping her eyes, she seemed to stare at their intertwined hands. “Wil-willow and I can ch-check out the area. If we f-find something, we c-can dec-cide what to do then.”

 

Despite Buffy’s habit of making fun of Giles and his need for plans, she understood his point. She wasn’t comfortable with the vague nature of their current strategy, either. “Um…” It was hard to find a way to agree without losing face.

 

Tara’s hand turned under Buffy’s until their palms pressed together and their fingers linked. “It w-won’t take long, I pr-promise.

 

“OK.” Buffy stifled a tired sigh and rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “Will, park over by the Hague. We’ll go across the Meadow to the Social Sciences building. There’s enough cover for us to hide in – and a good view.” Buffy tried to keep her internal map of the campus in mind as she continued to plan their movements. “We’ll be close to some of the dorms if we need to have an excuse for being there.”

 

Willow didn’t reply. However, the Jeep left Empire Grade and headed down Heller. They were closing in now. The tension in the Jeep’s interior rose, and Buffy automatically catalogued the familiar dorms and academic halls as they drove by.

 

Minutes later, Willow parked in the mostly empty lot near the Hague. “We’re here,” she said unnecessarily.

 

“Then let’s get the show on the road.” Faith was the first one out of the Jeep. She moved a few feet away as everyone else climbed out. “My head’s gonna blow, B. You feel it?”

 

“Yeah.” Buffy automatically pulled a stake from her pocket as she scanned the area. “It’s worse than downtown. Way worse.” She’d never felt anything even close. “What the hell is going on in those tunnels?” There was no doubt in her mind now that the vampires were there. Not with her Slayer senses screaming like this.

 

“That’s what we’re here to find out.” There was a warning note in Willow’s voice. “Follow the plan.” The warning sharpened as she glared at Buffy and Faith. “We cross the Meadow and Tara and I do the magic first. Got it?”

 

Buffy shared a long (and disgruntled) look with Faith. “Got it,” they said in unison.

 

Their ready agreement got a snort and a headshake. “Let’s go.” Willow pointed across the parking lot at the darkened Meadow. “The bad guys are that way.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” Buffy tossed off a mocking salute and trotted away from the Jeep. Each step caused a spike in her senses. They were definitely getting closer to the source of the vampire signature. She was barely aware of the rest of the gang trailing along behind her. Shadowed picnic tables and benches dotted the large, open Meadow. Buffy skirted those. They needed cover, and that meant sticking to the far edge of the area where bushes and trees provided some hope of hiding their presence.

 

They were halfway to their destination when movement ahead caught her attention. Raising one hand, Buffy signaled a halt. “Stay here,” she whispered urgently to Willow and Tara. “Faith…”

 

“Right behind you, B.” As if she was Buffy’s shadow, Faith followed closely as they carefully worked their way closer to the spot where Buffy had glimpsed the movement. “Can’t tell if it’s vamp or human. Too much noise in my senses. You?”

 

“The same.” Buffy ducked behind a large oak tree and peered around the trunk. In the dim illumination provided by a single lamppost, Buffy strained to see what had caught her attention. Indistinct shapes made their way through the bushes ahead. “There. I count five…no, six.”

 

Faith pressed closer. “I see ‘em. Early Halloween party? It looks like they got on uniforms.”

 

Buffy might have thought they were costumes, too, if a sudden glint of metal hadn’t changed her mind. “Not a party, Faith. I think the uniforms are real. Those guys are carrying guns!”

 

A/N: Like Joss, I used the UC-Santa Cruz as my model for UC-Sunnydale. Anyone familiar with the campus (or a map of it, like me) will recognize several of the buildings mentioned in the chapter.

 

CHAPTER 27

 

Buffy backed up a step, bumping into Faith.

 

Guns! The guns changed everything. Not even Tara and Willow, with all the magic they could muster, could go up against guns. “We need to tell the girls,” she whispered so only Faith could hear.

 

“What about them guys? We need to know where they’re goin’, B.” Faith was tense against Buffy’s back.

 

She was right. Buffy weighed their options. “Tell Will what’s going on. I’ll follow Uniform Guys and meet you by the tunnel entrance.” Risking a glance behind her, Buffy stressed one last point. “Don’t go into the tunnel until I get back. With all the vamps down there, it will take both of us to handle them.”

 

Faith nodded tightly – but didn’t move.

 

Buffy could see her scowl. This wasn’t going to be easy. Bracing for a fight, she added, “Go. Now. Or I tell Will about your wild night at Willy’s…”

 

“You wouldn’t!” Faith hissed. Buffy saw her eyes widen and then narrow.

 

“Bet Will would love the fact you were all cuddled up to a bottle of Jack, huh?” At another time, Buffy would have enjoyed Faith’s nearly fearful expression. Right now, though, she had other, more important, things to worry about. The group of uniform-clad men had slipped around the side of the Social Sciences building. If she didn’t leave now, she might lose them.

 

Luckily, her threat seemed to help Faith make up her mind. “Got it, B.” She turned away and sprinted back the way they’d come.

 

Thanking the PtB that her blackmail had worked, Buffy got back to business. She yanked a dagger from her belt and took off in the opposite direction. She couldn’t see the men any longer. Putting on a burst of speed, Buffy reached the sidewalk that ran alongside the building in seconds and hugged the brick facade. There were very few bushes to use as cover now. She had to be careful. Straining her senses, Buffy caught a faint sound of metal scraping against metal.

 

She risked a quick look around the corner of the building.

 

“Shit!” The word hissed out as Buffy watched the group of men opening a heavy grate covering what had to be the maintenance tunnel. Keeping her back to the wall, she crept around the corner. With all the vampire and demon activity in the area, Buffy’s Slayer senses were distorted; however, she was fairly sure the six shapes loosely circling the tunnel were human.

 

A sudden crackle broke the otherwise still night.

 

Buffy froze, praying the shadows were enough to mask her location.

 

One of the men raised a hand, and the rest of the group stared at him. “Finn,” he said softly into a radio mic that Buffy realized had been clipped to his uniform.

 

“…spotted near the Hague…find…bring them in.” The voice on the other end of the radio was broken up and too faint for even Buffy’s enhanced hearing to pick up completely. She strained and inched even closer, trying to make out the rest of the garbled words. “The professor…move forward…314.”

 

Buffy bit her lip. The Hague. Something – or someone – had been spotted near the Hague. Even without more information, she had a sinking suspicion the disembodied voice meant her and the rest of the gang.

 

Those fears were confirmed when the group replaced the grate and turned toward her position.

 

Did they see her? Not wanting to tip them off, Buffy remained where she was. Waiting was hard, though. Buffy ground her teeth didn’t appear to be aware of her presence, and Buffy wanted every advantage when the fighting started. Despite being human, each of the uniformed men carried a gun – and Buffy wasn’t sure that Slayer skills trumped bullets.

 

“Fan out, men,” Finn, the one in the lead, snapped. “Standard search pattern. Stay alert.” He pulled something from a pocket and slowly swept it in front of his body. “Nothing on the scanner. The professor may have been wrong.”

 

That was the second time Buffy had heard about “the professor.” The name of the man with the radio… Finn and the professor. It couldn’t be…

 

Before she could follow that thought further, her musings were cut short. The men were getting closer. It was show time. Leaping away from the building, Buffy landed right in front of the lead man. “Hi,” she announced in a bright, cheerful voice. “I’m a little lost. Can you point me in the direction of the super-secret underground tunnels?”

 

The group froze – just as Buffy had hoped.

 

Spinning on the ball of her left foot, Buffy used the momentum to swing her right leg in a tight arc. With a satisfying thud, her right instep slammed into Finn’s temple.

 

He went down with a clatter as his equipment and weapon landed on the sidewalk.

 

“Who’s next?” Buffy asked; although, she had her next target already picked out. Right on cue, the man who had been to Finn’s right charged her.

 

The attack might have been more effective if he’d used his gun. He must have thought size and muscle mattered more, however. The punch he threw sailed harmlessly over Buffy’s head as she ducked, and he grunted in pain when she landed a solid counterpunch to his stomach. Another quick jab to his jaw left him unconscious on the ground – right next to his friend.

 

Two down. Four to go.

 

Buffy jumped into the air and somersaulted over the remaining men. This was too easy.

 

***

 

The night swallowed Faith and Buffy. “So much for them not charging off to battle,” Willow muttered angrily. “Maybe the leash isn’t such a bad idea.”

 

Tara edged closer to the other girl and peered through the Meadow. “I’m s-sure they’ll be fi-fine. They wo-wouldn’t have run off like that if it h-hadn’t been important.” She hoped.  “We’ll just st-stay here, like Buffy wanted.”

 

“Tara, we are so not staying here. Did you miss that whole conversation at the apartment? The Chosen Two have this thing about going in with no plan. We had a plan. This is not the plan!” Even in the dimly lit Meadow, Tara glimpsed Willow’s clenched jaw.

 

Although Willow had a point, Tara wasn’t ready to run blindly after Buffy and Faith. Before they had taken off, she thought she’d seen Buffy point at something. “M-maybe they saw som-something,” she tried to explain. “I don’t th-think Buffy would just r-run off with-thout a reason.”

 

“You haven’t been a Scooby long enough. Give it a few weeks then you’ll see.” Willow crossed her arms and glared at the area where Buffy and Faith had disappeared. “She only pretends to be different than Faith.”

 

Rustling branches warned of someone approaching. “Willow…” Tara started. She never had a chance to finish as Faith burst out of the bushes and skidded to a halt in front of them.

 

“We got trouble,” she panted. “B’s checking it out, and she wants you two at the tunnels, like, yesterday.” Faith gripped Willow’s hand and nearly dragged her across the Meadow.

 

“T-trouble?” What kind of trouble? Tara jogged after Faith and Willow, barely holding back her questions. Why was Buffy investigating alone? “F-Faith, B-Buffy c-can’t fight m-magic…” Talking was harder than usual, thanks to her struggle to keep up. As she ran (and gasped for air) Tara realized Willow might have been right earlier. The two Slayers did seem to share a need to do things without backup.

 

Faith didn’t answer her question. Instead, she led them in a zigzag path through the bushes and flowerbeds until they were near the Social Sciences building. “Listen up.” For once, Faith was all business. “I’m going in first.”

 

Perhaps sensing Willow about to protest, Faith’s hand snapped up in a very clear “stop” gesture.

 

“I’m going in first,” she repeated. “The guys she was followin’ were human – and not the spell throwin’ kind. If B ain’t beat us to the tunnel, and I don’t see anything waiting to munch on us, then you two can do your thing.” Steel suddenly gleamed in the faint light from a nearby lamppost when Faith pulled a dagger from her belt. “Stay put until I check things out.” Faith looked straight at Willow as she talked.

 

When Willow nodded reluctantly, Faith crept toward the building in a crouch and disappeared into the shadows in seconds.

 

“Come on.” Willow imitated Faith’s crouch and began making her way out of the protection of the shrubbery.

 

Tara reached for her – and missed. That left only one choice. Tara trotted out of the bushes, too. If they managed to survive their fact-finding mission, Tara silently promised herself that she would lead a discussion on the meaning of planning and following directions. She trailed Willow slowly. Every sound – from the wind whispering through the leaves to the muted song of the crickets – had her jumping. Her heart hammered. Her legs trembled.

 

When Willow stopped suddenly at the side of the Social Sciences building, Tara was so focused on overcoming her own fears that she slammed into the other girl. “S-s-sorry.” Goddess, if she kept this up, it wouldn’t take a vampire to kill her. Terror would do it. Tara sucked in a slow, deep breath and clenched her teeth. She had to get control. Now. Otherwise, none of her magic would be of any use – not even with Willow’s help. Centering through sheer force of will and profligate use of a meditation mantra, Tara slowed her heart rate.

 

She was just in time. Willow ducked around the corner of the building, still in pursuit of Faith.

 

Tara’s new-found calm wavered for a second. No. She would not backslide. The wizard from the bar might be here. And, as she’d tried to remind Faith, Slayers couldn’t fight magic. Only she and Willow could do that. Repeating that over and over in her head, Tara snuck after Willow again – and stopped three steps later.

 

Buffy and Faith fought four large, uniformed men cutting off their access to the maintenance tunnel. Tara caught a glimpse of the grate covering the tunnel entrance and Willow standing motionless only a few feet away; however, most of her attention was on the fighting.

 

She’d never seen anything like it.

 

It was fast and brutal. Soft grunts and the thud of feet and hands meeting flesh overrode the normal nighttime sounds. As if they had rehearsed, though, Buffy and Faith moved together. Synchronized. Beautiful. And deadly.

 

Tara moved closer, awed.

 

One of the men lashed out with his foot, and Buffy blocked it with an upraised arm. Before her attacker could retract his leg, Buffy’s hand closed around his ankle. One quick pull put him right where she obviously wanted.

 

Buffy’s foot rose and landed with unerring accuracy in the man’s groin.

 

Even from where she stood, Tara heard his choked cry. The man went down in an ungainly heap – and stayed there.

 

Only two more men remained. While Tara had watched Buffy, Faith had dispatched her own man.

 

“This ain’t no fun, B.” Faith’s voice carried clearly as she stalked toward the men as they huddled together. “Even newbies put up a better fight.”

 

***

 

Buffy shrugged. “They’re dumber than vamps, too.” She didn’t explain how, though. She wasn’t really interested in her usual quips at the moment. Instead, Buffy leaped forward and grabbed each man by the side of the head. Well, maybe one quip. “Night, night, boys.”

 

She slammed their heads together and watched in satisfaction as they slumped to the ground.

 

“Fuck! What did ya’ do that for? One of ‘em was mine,” Faith whined.

 

“Get a grip, Faith. You can feel the vamps in the tunnel. I think you’ll get enough action with them.” Buffy turned away and hunted for the first man she’d fought. She needed to check on something far more important than arguing with Faith.

 

It took a minute. The uniforms – helped by the bad lighting – made him hard to find.

 

Finally, though, Buffy found him. She gripped him by the shoulders and dragged him down the sidewalk to the only light. It revealed what she’d expected. “Damn it.” Raising her voice, Buffy called out to Willow. “I told you Professor Walsh was evil. Her TA just tried to kill me.”

 

CHAPTER 28

 

“Riley? Really?” Willow jogged over and peered at the body Buffy held under the light. “Wow. I can’t…I mean, why? And what’s with the uniforms and guns? Laser tag?”

 

For a smart girl, Willow didn’t always get the point. Buffy sighed dramatically and let go of Riley’s shoulder. “Newsflash, Will. That’s not a laser gun.” Although, now that she’d mentioned it, his weapon didn’t look like the guns Buffy had seen on television, either. Pulling it carefully from Riley’s holster, she held it up. “At least, I don’t think it is.” The smooth, molded metal reminded her of the phasers on Star Trek.

 

“Who cares?” Faith asked. “We got vamps waitin’ to be killed, B. Stop admiring the gun and let’s hit that tunnel. If we hurry, we can buzz the Denny’s for breakfast on the way home.” Her smirk was clear as she continued. “Got a feeling the Hs’ll be revved up after the fight.”

 

Buffy scowled. “We aren’t here to kill whatever’s in the tunnels, remember? We’re here to get information. That’s all.” Breaking off before things got out of control, Buffy pointed to the tunnel. “Besides, I don’t think the only thing waiting for us is demonic. I overheard Riley on his radio. Whatever’s down there has some way of watching the campus. They knew we were here; that’s what the Commando Band was doing. Looking for us.”

 

“Should we go back to the apartment?” Willow moved closer to Faith. “I can run background checks on Riley. See if I can figure out what he’s really doing here and who he works for.” Her eyes flickered up to Faith and then latched onto Buffy’s. “If there are more like him…”

 

Willow didn’t need to finish for Buffy to understand. Fighting humans was on the “never do again” list. Not after Faith’s accident last year.“We may not have a choice, Will,” Buffy warned gently. “They’re here; they’re looking for us; and they seem to be hooked up with a bunch of vampires.” Relenting slightly, she conceded. “I promise we’ll be careful, though. We’ll sneak in and take a look and sneak right back out.”

 

“OK.” Not seeming convinced by Buffy’s vow, Willow nevertheless nodded. “Tara and I will stay here. Don’t be gone long.”

 

***

 

The second Willow gave her approval, Buffy and Faith took off. Tara watched them run for the tunnel entrance. “Are w-we really go-going to stay here?” After the last time, she didn’t trust Willow not to follow the Slayers.

 

“We stay,” Willow repeated. “And we start looking for that wizard. Vampires are scary, but Buffy and Faith handle those all the time. Big magical threats are new and not of the good. Can we set up over there?” She pointed to a spot a few feet away from the sidewalk with a stone bench, surrounded by manicured flower beds.

 

It was as good a place as any. Tara stepped off the sidewalk in answer. “Do you r-remember the way the mag-magic felt at the bar?” She’d never worked closely with Willow; their activities that afternoon hadn’t been an actual spell casting.

 

“Um… I think so. Why?” Willow slipped her backpack off her shoulder and unzipped it.

 

Tara put out a hand. “Don’t, W-Willow. We don’t n-need th-that.” At least, she hoped they didn’t. Digging into the supplies meant they were going on the offensive and that was far riskier than doing a little careful hunting.

 

“OK.” It was apparent Willow wasn’t sure what Tara meant, but she willingly waited for more instruction.

 

“Remember h-how we linked at the b-bar?” Tara asked. When Willow nodded, she smiled with as much reassurance as possible. “We’re going to d-do that again and th-then push our energy out.”

 

Willow’s forehead wrinkled as she frowned in confusion.

 

Unclear how to describe the magic, Tara hesitated. “It’s…” It was what? She reached for Willow’s hand to give herself more time to think – and to get their link started. The physical contact pushed away some of Tara’s internal doubts. Willow was powerful; her energy radiated from Willow’s hand as if it was an electric blanket. Tara let her shields drop and embraced that heat.

 

When the flow and ebb of their combined magic settled into gentle swells, Tara said softly, “Imagine our energy is a net. As it moves through the air, it collects and…filters all of the ambient energy. We should be able to sense anything out of place.” Like the signature of the wizard. She concentrated on the pool of power welling between them and forced it into the right shape: a thin, shimmering sheet of interwoven magics. “We’re looking for the wizard, Willow. That’s all.” For now. Tara didn’t say the final two words out loud; she didn’t need to. Joined by magic, Willow would hear her thoughts.

 

“Got it.” Willow’s enthusiasm was dimmed only by her intense focus on their activities. As Tara shaped and expanded their energy, Willow provided the first push, sending the ‘net’ gently through the darkness in the direction of the maintenance

 

The effect was dizzying. Tara finally closed her physical eyes in an effort to ignore the doubled vision created by seeing the pulsing filter of power superimposed over the view of the dimly lit campus. It helped to hold her growing nausea at bay and narrowed her focus to only her shared link with Willow.

 

Once she was sure everything was under control, Tara let Willow in on the rest of her plan. “Once we find the trail of power, we’ll be able to follow it to the source. But we have to be careful,” she stressed. “Even though normal people won’t be able to see our probe, the wizard… Anyone who uses magic will.”

 

Thanks to her closed eyes, Tara couldn’t see Willow’s expression. Still, it was easy enough to guess her reaction from the firm, confident reply. “Don’t worry, Tara. I’m sure we can handle whatever we find.”

 

Tara’s concentration wavered for a second in disbelief. Had Willow missed what she’d said about their encounter with the wizard at the bar? He was strong. Far stronger than Tara estimated she and Willow were.

 

“Besides…” Willow continued, unaware of Tara’s concerns. “We have Buffy and Faith with us. They might not be able to cast spells, but they won’t let anyone hurt us. Not even crazy Ethan Rayne.”

 

Marveling for only a second at Willow’s supreme confidence in Buffy and Faith, Tara forced herself back to business. They had a job to do. She watched their magical net intently. At first, she sensed nothing more than normal levels of natural energies.

 

“Stop!” Tara closed her hands around the ‘handle’ of their magical net. Her eyes shot open. Bright sparks lit the air in front of their meshed magic. “Do you feel that?” Even as she asked the question, Tara knew Willow couldn’t miss something that powerful. 

 

The advance of the net stopped immediately, and Willow’s unease poured through the link.  “What is that?”

 

Tara took a minute to blink away the dazzle from the sheer strength of the magic they’d caught. When she did…A shudder worked its way down Tara’s spine.  It was the signature from the bar, tainting the ambient magical energies surrounding them and dissolving the fibers of their net with its malevolence.

 

“I guess we found him, huh?” Willow mumbled. Her earlier confidence had disappeared from her voice. “He’s…I mean, wow.”

 

Struggling with her own terrified awe, Tara nodded numbly. What she’d felt outside the bar hadn’t prepared her for this. They couldn’t beat this.

 

Willow must have shared Tara’s opinion. “We have to warn Buffy and Faith, Tara! Vamps and demon, they can handle. This?” Willow moved away and their link disintegrated with a soundless (and painful) pop. “Giles had better have some answers this time. This is way worse than some funky Halloween costumes.”

 

Before responding to Willow’s comment, Tara reestablished her shields and shook her head against the dull pounding at her temples. Magical Lesson Number One: how to disconnect from a link without blindsiding your partner. “No. We aren’t going into the tunnel. We’re waiting this time.” She shot a pointed look at Willow. “Like we promised.” There was nothing Willow could say that would convince her to go into that tunnel. The energy trail emanated from the entrance, and Tara had no desire to confront the man behind the magic.

 

She received a mutinous glare in return. “But…”

 

“I have a better idea,” a deep, British-accented voice interrupted their increasingly heated discussion.  A man materialized to Willow’s right.

 

“You!” Willow spun and pointed a slim figure at the man. “I knew it was you. The Cave Students are right up your alley! I’m surprised you didn’t give them all fake fur costumes, too.”

 

If he was insulted by Willow’s reaction, the man (Ethan Rayne, Tara wondered?) didn’t show it. In fact, he smiled. “Let’s see what else you know, shall we, Ms. Rosenberg? My friends…” The man snapped his fingers and red light flared for a second. When it dimmed, a group of armed and uniformed soldiers surrounded Willow and Tara. “…have a few questions for you.”

 

***

 

Buffy held up a hand. “Do you hear that?” she asked Faith in a whisper.

 

She saw Faith’s eyes narrow and her head tilt. “The high-pitched wailin’? Yeah. Why?”

 

That was a good question. Buffy couldn’t identify the sound, yet it filled her with a strong desire to turn and sprint out of the tunnel. Avoiding an answer, she dropped her hand and continued their journey through the dark passageway. “Stay close.” For once, Buffy was glad to have Faith along. The Chosen Two were a force even the most powerful demons feared, and something told her they might need all the ass-kicking potential they could muster.

 

“Where the hell else would I be, B?” Faith’s rough whisper sounded mocking. “Red’d do more than make me sleep on the couch if I left your ass in here alone. Girl’s got a thing about keeping you safe.”

 

“She’d get over her frog fear, if I let anything happen to you,” Buffy pointed out in return. “I’d be making friends with Kermit…” A faint light ahead lit the otherwise dark tunnel, and Buffy stopped talking as they moved closer. Beneath the continued wailing, she made out the hum of voices and the faint roar of what sounded like an air conditioner.

 

Sudden warmth bloomed along Buffy’s back as Faith pressed against her. Buffy glanced over her shoulder and glimpsed her intent expression. “Got a bad feeling about this, B,” Faith breathed so softly that Buffy barely made out the words.

 

“Me, too.” Turning her attention back to the tunnel ahead, Buffy gripped the handle of the knife in her right hand. Nearly quivering with the strain of keeping her senses on high, she led them deeper into the maintenance tunnel.

 

Cool air wafted over them after only a few steps and the light ahead brightened.

 

Buffy dropped into a tight crouch as the end of the passageway came into view. Hugging the concrete wall, Buffy continued to creep forward until she stood at the very edge of the tunnel. A vast chamber spread out in front of them, illuminated by dozens of fluorescent lights. People in white coats and gun-toting, camouflage-wearing soldiers milled around the large space. “This is way worse than bad, Faith” she said numbly.

 

“What the fuck is this place?” Faith’s voice was harsh – and scared. Buffy recognized it only because she was afraid, too. “And how did we miss it before now?”

 

Very good questions. Ones which Buffy had no intention of answering at that moment. She stepped back, propelling Faith with her. “We need Giles.” This was out of their league. Even without knowing exactly what they’d just witnessed, Buffy was in no doubt they needed Giles’ expertise and research abilities.

 

“We ain’t got any info, B.” Faith resisted Buffy’s next attempt to move them toward the tunnel entrance. “He won’t be able to find anything if we don’t give him somethin’ to work with.” Gripping Buffy’s arm, she dragged them forward again. “You stay here. Play lookout. I’ll see if I can find anything down there.”

 

“No!” Buffy planted both feet firmly and managed to get her arm free. “If you get caught…”

 

Faith snorted. “Look at ‘em, B. Humans.”

 

“With guns!” It was like arguing with a wall, Buffy thought, noticing Faith’s mutinous expression. “We took out that group at the tunnel because they were too stupid to use their guns. Once the bullets start flying, not even Slayer speed would keep you alive.”

 

For an interminable minute, Faith glared at Buffy without saying anything. Then, reluctantly, she mumbled, “Whatever, B. Never thought you’d back away from a fight.”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “You saw the same thing I did, Faith,” she said as she turned toward the tunnel entrance. “Do you really think all those soldiers will be gone when we come back with answers?” And reinforcements.

 

“Come back?” A new voice asked, and Buffy dropped automatically into a defensive crouch.

 

She needn’t have bothered.

 

Blocking her and Faith’s escape was Ethan Rayne and a group of soldiers. “I’m afraid you can’t leave just yet,” he informed her; although, Buffy wasn’t really paying attention to his posturing.

 

All of her attention was on Willow and Tara, huddled together under the watchful eyes of a pair of Ethan’s men.

 

CHAPTER 29

 

“I guess we could stay for a while,” Buffy mumbled. “Maybe long enough for a movie and some popcorn. That sounds good, doesn’t it, Faith?” As she talked, Buffy shifted slowly to her left. It put her closer to Ethan. She had a knife, and Ethan’s bully boys didn’t appear to see her and Faith as a serious threat. In fact, their weapons were pointed at the ground.

 

Ethan, though, wasn’t underestimating the danger they posed. “Do be still, Ms. Summers. It would be tragic if something were to happen to the young ladies in my charge.” His hand waved toward Willow and Tara. “Why don’t you save the heroics and join us? My employer has been waiting rather impatiently to meet you.”

 

His employer. Buffy glanced at Faith and saw her scowl. They’d been right about that, damn it. Ethan wasn’t working alone. “I wouldn’t want you to get fired,” she said stiffly. “As long as the meeting won’t make us late for the movie. I hate missing all those trailers.”

 

“Thank you.” Ethan ignored Buffy’s attempt at levity. He snapped his fingers and two of the soldiers broke away from the group. Now their guns were at the ready. “These gentlemen will show you the way.”

 

For a second, Buffy thought Ethan had made a mistake. If the two men moved in front of her and Faith, that evened up the numbers a little. Unfortunately, she found herself spun toward the tunnel’s end with the surprisingly sharp barrel of a machine gun pressed into her back. Trapped, angry, and totally terrified, Buffy moved forward after a single shove.

 

The trip took forever.

 

The large open area she and Faith had discovered was massive. From their vantage point, they hadn’t been able to see everything. Sheets of some sort of metallic fabric hung from beams near the tunnel’s ceiling, creating tiny ‘rooms’ within the larger space. Plodding along at the head of the group, Buffy tried to get a glimpse of what those rooms held.

 

“You see what I see, B?” Faith’s whisper was so soft that only another Slayer would hear. At least, Buffy prayed that was true.

 

Keeping her back to her captors and her head down, Buffy carefully replied, “Demons and vamps. Lots of them.” And all of them had been strapped to tables and hooked up to equipment she didn’t recognize.

 

Faith’s head dipped slightly. “Don’t think they’re part of the team.”

 

Buffy agreed; although, she refrained from comment. What the hell was going on down here? If Ethan’s crew wasn’t building a demon army, why bring them all into the tunnels? Buffy’s mind struggled to put the pieces together.

 

She hadn’t managed to even find the edge pieces by the time the gun in her back urged her up a set of metal stairs and through a guarded doorway at the far side of the facility. The bright lights were still there. The noise, though, was absent. So were the people. The gleaming hall was empty ahead of them. Buffy slowed her steps as much as she dared and sent her senses out. There was something here. Something powerful and different than the run of the mill demons they’d passed.

 

“Keep moving!” A sharp jab in her back sent Buffy stumbling forward. So much for getting a chance to explore.

 

Making sure her muscles stayed relaxed, Buffy sped up slightly. Only slightly. If they were going to try to escape, this was the best chance they had. “Be ready,” she whispered to Faith. Then, taking her own advice, Buffy glanced over her shoulder. The soldier behind her held his weapon low, near his right hip. A knife nestled in a sheath on the same thigh.

 

Neutralize the gun. Get the knife. Take care of the other soldiers.

 

“On three,” Buffy told Faith.

 

“One,” Faith said immediately. Buffy recognized the carefully restrained anger in the quiet voice. The guys with the guns would never know what hit them.

 

Buffy took a deep breath. “Two.” They had to hurry. Her enhanced hearing had picked up movement nearby. In one of the rooms ahead or back in the main base, though, she couldn’t be sure. She silently cursed. Beating the crowd already in the hall was going to be tough enough. It would be next to impossible if there were reinforcements waiting in the wings.

 

“Three!” Faith spun as she called out the count, her right hand swinging back to thrust the gun barrel away from her body.

 

Buffy mimicked the move. As the gun barrel swung toward the left wall, she thrust her left hand at the soldier’s face. With her fingers bent into a claw, she jabbed the fingertips directly into the man’s face – and then raked down.

 

He screamed and his hands dropped from the machine gun to cradle his bleeding cheeks.

 

Perfect. Buffy dove forward and ripped the knife from the soldier’s leg sheath. She hit the floor in a tight tuck and rolled into Ethan’s legs. He went down from the momentum of her strike. Buffy took advantage of that. As she regained her feet, Buffy lashed out with her right hand. The fist struck Ethan in the temple, and he slumped.

 

***

 

Tara concentrated on not panicking as they left the main ‘hanger’ of the underground base. What were they going to do? Buffy and Faith were Slayers. They fought demons and vampires. Guns and soldiers were outside their training.

 

They were outside hers as well. She searched her mental storehouse of spells. Sunlight was out. There was nothing to levitate…unless she tried to float the guns away. Her brief happiness over that thought faded when she noticed the way each of the machine guns had a strap firmly encircling the soldiers’  shoulders. Damn it. For an instant, Tara wanted to stomp her foot in frustration.

 

Her inner temper tantrum was interrupted when Faith shouted, “Three!”

 

The next few minutes were a confused blur of shouts and movement. When Tara finally realized that Buffy and Faith were trying to free them, though, she wasted no time in helping as best she could. Ignoring all the niceties of shared magic, Tara grabbed Willow through the link they’d established earlier. She had to pound on Willow’s shield for a heartbeat until it dropped; however, once they were joined, Tara pooled their magical resources.

 

They had to keep the guns out of play. If levitation was out… Tara extended a tendril of magic and used it to plug the barrel of the nearest weapon. She caught Willow’s amusement at the action, and then followed Willow’s lead in repeating the action with the rest of the firearms. Now Buffy and Faith faced a fair fight.

 

Once the soldiers lost the advantage, though, the fight didn’t last much longer. Within minutes, unmoving uniformed bodies littered the hallway.

 

“Dumb fuckers shoulda shot us,” Faith groused as she glared at the soldiers. “Didn’t nobody tell ‘em they couldn’t outfight a couple of Slayers?”

 

Willow pulled out of the joined link. “Oh, they weren’t all that stupid. They just didn’t know that Slayers weren’t the only threat. Tara’s as good as you and Buffy, Faith, only with magic. Even if the guys had tried to shoot you, the guns wouldn’t have worked.”

 

It was clear from Faith’s scowl she didn’t believe Willow. At least she refrained from stating that. “Huh. Whatever the reason, we got lucky. It’s time to get the hell out of here and find Giles. Maybe he can figure out what all these guys are doing down here.”

 

Feeling flushed from the success of the spell and Willow’s ringing endorsement, Tara said, with no hint of her usual stutter, “Should we leave the bodies in the hallway?” She gestured toward the door they’d come through. “What if someone else decides to go this way?”

 

“I’m not sure it’s going to matter.” Buffy grimaced and rubbed a hand over her eyes. “I thought I heard something from one of the rooms as we came through the door. We need a way to get out of here – with Ethan. He’s got to know what’s going on down here, and I’m sure Giles will want to…talk to him.”

 

“We can carry him, B.” Faith restlessly paced back and forth across the hallway. “Only thing is, I don’t know about makin’ it back to the tunnel without getting caught. We don’t look like soldiers.”

 

Tara watched as Buffy seemed to stiffen in indecision. Trying to help, she said softly, “Ma-maybe there is someth-thing in one of the rooms we could use?” Her mind latched on to the image of a demon strapped to a metal table. “A gurney? Could we p-put Ethan on that and wheel him out?”

 

“OK.” Buffy’s lips twitched in a tiny smile. “From now on, Tara does all the planning.” Then, in complete defiance of her previous statement, she turned to Faith. “Start rattling doorknobs. We need that gurney.”

 

Feeling better now that Buffy was more confident, Tara considered what else they might need. “Even if we c-cover Ethan, we’ll stick out, Buffy.” Four young women in a base filled with soldiers and doctors. They wouldn’t even make it halfway to the maintenance tunnel.

 

“It won’t win any fashion awards, but we could borrow uniforms.” Willow reached down and started unbuttoning the shirt of the body nearest her. “We’ll have to walk fast and pray nobody sees the two feet of extra material dangling over our hands and stuffed in our boots.” Her hands faltered, though, when a loud klaxon suddenly echoed through the hallway.

 

Tara stared at Willow, heart racing and stomach churning. This didn’t bode well. Intuition became certainty seconds later.

 

Buffy’s head whipped around and she frowned at the door leading to the base. “Company’s coming. I hear boots. Lots of them.” In the same breath, she called out, “Faith! Stop playing nice. Get the next door open. Now!” Pulling Willow to her feet, Buffy gestured for Tara to get moving.

 

It was an unnecessary effort. Tara was already sprinting to where Faith waited impatiently. “Didn’t have to do nothin’, B. This one was unlocked,” Tara heard as Faith nearly shoved her into a darkened exam room. “Too bad you left the guns with the Soldier Boys. It mighta evened the odds.”

 

“No guns,” Willow said between gasps as she slid to a stop next to Tara. “We’ll find another way.”  She pulled the backpack off her shoulder. “Tara, is there anything in here we can use?”

 

Only if they wanted to blow up the base – and themselves. Tara quickly shook her head. “I don’t think so.” Then she frowned. Faith and Buffy had closed and locked the door, and they were dragging pieces of equipment and tables in front of the door. That wouldn’t keep anyone out of the room for long. “Actually, Willow, there is something we can do.” Snatching the backpack away from Willow, Tara ripped open the front pouch. She remembered a vial of Artemisia Vulgaris.

 

Voices and heavy footfalls from the hallway made it hard to focus on the tiny scripts on the bottles.

 

Finally, though, Tara found the right vial. “Move away from the door,” she ordered. Not giving herself time to second guess her decision, Tara waited long enough for Buffy and Faith to scramble away. Tara hurled the glass bottle at the door at the same time she called out, “Servo absentis!”

 

The vial shattered and light flared brightly as the liquid coated the metal door.

 

“What the fuck did you do, T?” Faith gripped Tara’s shoulder roughly. “Ain’t no one missing the light show. Did you want whoever’s out there to find us?”

 

Tara was too rattled to answer. The spell had worked. Until she’d felt the ward spring up, Tara hadn’t been sure… When Faith’s fingers tightened more, though, she dragged her attention away from the shimmering curtain of power blanketing the door. “The mugwort in the vial repels th-things. I used it to k-keep the s-soldiers out.” Innate honesty made her add a disclaimer. “It w-won’t last long th-though.”

 

“Then let’s stop wasting time.” Buffy pried Faith’s fingers from Tara’s shoulder. “See if there’s a way out. Another door. Air ducts. I don’t care.” The orders flowed effortlessly as Buffy scanned the room. “Will, they’ve got computers. Do your thing. Shut down the whole base if you have to.”

 

Willow scampered around them and started poking at a darkened terminal, leaving Buffy and Tara alone in the center of the room to watch. And wait.

 

CHAPTER 30

 

Tara fidgeted and saw Buffy wriggle where she stood. The room seemed to close in on her. They were trapped, after all. With no apparent way out.

 

“I got nothin’, B. Maybe you could fit in the air ducts, but the rest of us is too big.” Slamming her hand against the wall, Faith glared at them. “I knew we shoulda left when we had the chance.”

 

Lips tightening, Buffy glared back. “Really? Was that before or after you wanted to run through the base getting information for Giles? Am I the only one that remembers that?” Then Tara saw Buffy’s head drop slightly and her hands clenched and unclenched. “Whatever,” Buffy said in a softer voice. “If the air ducts are out, we have to find another way.” Shifting away from the lab table, she trotted to the far wall. “I know I heard people moving around earlier. If you didn’t see anyone in any of the rooms, Faith, we’re missing something. Unless they have ghosts as well as demons down here, the door isn’t the only exit.”

 

Standing in the center of the room wasn’t helping so Tara joined Buffy and Faith and ran her trembling hands over the wall. It was cool and… “Is the wall moving?” she asked hesitantly. Or was it only her own nerves causing the feeling?

 

“Not moving, Blondie.” Faith stood still and leaned into the wall. “Vibrating.”

 

Whatever else she might have said was interrupted by loud banging at the door.

 

“Damn. It looks like their reinforcements are here.” Buffy turned away from their search. “Keep looking.”

 

Tara continued working on the wall but turned her head enough to watch Buffy’s progress across the room. She could clearly see the way Buffy’s hands played with the dagger tucked into her belt. This wasn’t going to be good. Well, actually, she reminded herself, the situation had gone past “not good” a long time ago.

 

“You got a clue what’s causing the wall thing, T?” Faith had stopped touching the wall. Arms crossed, she leaned one shoulder against it and glared at the door – or Buffy. Tara wasn’t sure which.

 

Did she look like an expert in drywall and construction? Tara bit back the comment, though. They were all scared and giving in to that wouldn’t find a way out of their predicament. “N-not really,” she admitted. “Can you t-tell where the vib-brations start?” It was a shot in the dark. Whatever caused the rumble under her hands didn’t seem mystical in nature.

 

Surprisingly, Faith had at least a partial answer. “No idea about the where, T. Slayer hearing says it’s some kind of machine, maybe. Got some kind of buzzing and…” She paused with a frown. “B was right about the voices. I got ‘em, too.”

 

That didn’t fit. “In the other room?” Hadn’t Faith checked on that while they were waiting in the hall?

 

“No. It was empty when I stuck my head in.” Faith’s eyes widened. “That don’t make… Fuck!” She spun back to the door. “B, we maybe got a new problem.”

 

***

 

Buffy heard Faith as something heavier than a knock sounded from the hallway. “Sorry. We aren’t taking any more problems right now. We’ve got enough to handle up here.” Like the booted foot apparently slamming against the door. “Why don’t you take a number or something?”

 

A large dent suddenly tented the door into the room.

 

“Or not.” Buffy picked up the only weapon other than her knife in the room: a tall, three-legged stool. God, they should have stayed home and let Willow make with the research. And thinking of Willow… “Will, any luck?” Please?

 

Head nodding, Willow answered, “I managed to break the password. Give me a minute to check things out.” Despite the threat of the group in the hallway, her voice rose with excitement. “This place is amazing, Buffy. I’ve never seen anything like it!”

 

“Save it, Red.” Faith trotted up next to Buffy. “Forget about fighting our way out. The voices… I heard ‘em, too. Like I told Tara, they ain’t coming from next door. So unless they’re hanging out in the air ducts, we’re missing a door.”

 

“A secret passage?” Buffy glanced at Faith in disbelief. “Are you crazy?”

 

Dimples flashing, Faith grinned. “You been saying that since I hopped off the train, B.” She grew more serious as the metal in the door buckled further. “Looks like the best option. We got lucky the last time. I don’t think them soldier boys are gonna forget the guns if we go again.”

 

“Right. Good point.” Abandoning her stool, Buffy looked around the room. She hadn’t seen anything the first time she’d done that – and this time was no different.  “I don’t even know what to look for.” There were no candelabras on the wall. No bookshelf to move or books to use as levers.

 

A hinge snapped off the door. Tara’s wards were failing. They were running out of time.

 

“I’ve got it!” Buffy was so tense that she jumped at Willow’s triumphant shout. “Schematics, memos. All of it.”

 

For once, Faith seemed to share Buffy’s emotions. She, too, jerked and then scowled. “Save the celebrating until later, Red. If you got the goods, how the fuck do we get out of here?”

 

“There’s a door in that back wall.” Rapid-fire keystrokes exploded under Willow’s fingers and a printer on the table next to her began churning out paper.

 

The back wall? Buffy looked at Faith. They’d been over every inch and hadn’t found anything.

 

“It’s hard to tell how to open it, but…” Willow jumped off her stool and grabbed the paper off the printer. “I think you pull here.” Clutching the printouts in her left hand, she sprinted past Buffy and Faith and manipulated a thermostat.

 

Seconds later, a crack appeared faintly in a section of the wall. It continued to grow…and grow until Buffy stared through the opened “door” into darkness illuminated by a strip of pin lights along the floor.

 

Stay or go?

 

“What the hell are we waiting on, B?” Faith was already propelling Willow into the opening. “Them guys are getting in any minute. Sounds like they got heavy equipment helpin’ ‘em out.”

 

She was right. The dull thuds had graduated to sharp, metallic retorts, and there was a quarter-inch gap between the door and frame near the floor. “Tara, you and Willow in the middle, like before. Faith…” Buffy picked up the stool she’d planned to use as a weapon earlier. Her muscles protested along with the metal as she wrenched two of the legs off. “Take point.” She tossed one of the legs to Faith and took the rear position.

 

The door closed soundlessly behind her.

 

As it did, the lights brightened, revealing smooth rock walls and a long hallway. The voices were clearer. And closer.

 

Faith’s pace slowed, and Buffy nodded in approval. They’d managed to avoid the soldiers behind them…for now. Running headfirst into whoever (or whatever) was ahead would be stupid. Buffy’s enhanced hearing kicked in. The voices, the conversation, in front of them grew clearer with each step.

 

“…this isn’t working as planned.” A man. Angry and belligerent. “We have to pull up stakes. If we stay, the risk of discovery gets too high.”

 

“I’m not leaving now.” Buffy sucked in a sharp breath. Professor Walsh. Willow so owed her. She’d said all along that Walsh was evil. None of her other professors took attendance and handed out so many assignments. “We’ll go back to the original plan.”

 

Buffy was listening so intently that she cannoned into Tara when the other girl stopped. Actually, everyone had stopped. She saw Faith raise a beckoning hand and slipped past Tara with a murmured apology for running into her.

 

“Think it’s only two?” Faith used the same piercing whisper Buffy had used in the corridor with the soldiers.

 

“Maybe.” Buffy didn’t want to be wrong. Creeping a few feet farther along the passage, she listened more intently. The conversation had halted for the moment. She heard metallic clicks, the whoosh of air (vents? pumps?), and the irritating squeak of wheels against floor. “I can’t tell.”

 

“Me, neither. What do ya’ want to do?” Faith’s eyes flickered toward Willow and Tara, and Buffy suddenly remembered how reluctant Faith was to have her girlfriend on the front lines.

 

Treading carefully, Buffy whispered back, “I’ll go in first.” And keep her fingers crossed they were right about the number of people ahead. “Give me a couple of minutes. If you don’t hear any screaming, I’m good and you can walk in.” She didn’t give Faith a chance to remind her that they’d had this conversation before. She was going alone. Faith would just have to face Willow’s wrath at not being there to protect her.

 

Less than a minute later, Buffy found the end of the corridor. A large opening appeared along the right wall. She headed there, barely breathing, and pressed her back into the cold stone. There was more sound now. No voices, though. Those had stopped and hadn’t restarted. Between the booming thunder of her heartbeat, Buffy tried to identify what she was hearing.

 

Beeping. High-pitched and metallic, with long pauses and whooshing sounds in between. Tapping. That, at least, was familiar. Years of friendship with Willow said that was fingertips touching keys in rapid succession. And… Buffy closed her eyes and strained. Rough and arrhythmic scratching.

 

“What are we going to do for a power source?” The man’s voice was loud and so unexpected that Buffy jumped. “The uranium core in this one didn’t last a day before it blew the circuits.”

 

The Slayer? Host? Buffy took an automatic step closer. She needed more. She needed to know what Walsh and Ethan had cooked up in their underground hideout.

 

Superiority oozed from Walsh’s voice when she answered. “I’ve been working on a few options.” She laughed, the sound chilling Buffy to the bone. “What would you say if I told you I had a source? A source who found the perfect host for the project?”

 

“You’ve said that before!” Walsh’s companion was getting agitated. His voice rose until it echoed off the walls. “And every time, nothing’s worked. Our supplies are running low, not to mention the funding. My superiors want results, Maggie, not more failures. We’re out of chances.”

 

Footsteps moved closer to Buffy’s location and she scuttled back a few feet. “We don’t need more chances. The new host is being delivered tonight. I’ve got a team bringing her in.”

 

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