Story: Someone Different (chapter 1)

"Okay, was that as lame as I thought it was? I mean, I'll be the first to admit that I'm not exactly up-to-date on the ways of Wicca, so I could be sticking my foot in my mouth, but I'm gonna guess that that wasn't what you were hoping for." Buffy said to Willow as they walked down the hall towards their dorm room.

The aspiring witch had asked the slayer to come with her to a Wicca group meeting on campus. Ever since Oz left, having someone around helped her to not focus on him; her friend readily agreed, despite magick not being her interest or forte. She'd hoped that she could find something productive that would occupy her time, but forty-five minutes of her life had been a huge disappointment.

"Understatement of the century. It was talk--all talk. Magickally savvy witches? I think not." The redhead muttered, frustratingly. "Blah, blah...Gaia...Blah, blah...moon...menstrual, life-force power thingy. They're just a bunch of wanna blessed bees." She frowned, annoyed. "You know, nowadays every girl with a Henna tattoo and a spice rack thinks she's a sister to the dark ones."

They reached the door to their room, and entered.

"Well, I'm sorry it was a bust. I know you were looking to go farther in that department." The blonde was sympathetic. "But what about that one girl?"

"Huh?" Sitting on her bed, Willow drew a blank.

"Tara, remember? She seemed to wanna back you up. Why don't you check her out, see if she's the real deal?" Buffy suggested as she went to the mini-fridge.

It took the redhead a second, but a face was put to the name--Tara. Yeah, she did seem different than the rest of them. Buffy handed her a soda she'd gotten, and joined her.

"Oh...yeah, I could. She was pretty shy, though." Willow remembered.

"And it's not like you were *ever* that way." The sarcasm was laid on pretty thick, and her friend grinned slightly. "Anyway, she was probably just afraid she'd get laughed at."

They'd both been there before. The slayer got the impression that Tara was an out-of-towner (she didn't recognize her from high school), and she could see why the fellow blonde would want to keep her mouth shut and avoid becoming an outcast. It was a shame; hiding who you were was an all too familiar theme. Reading people was a talent that had become second nature to her, and when she looked at Tara, Buffy saw another side just dying to come out.

She looked at her for almost the entire meeting, drowning the words out. When the girl saw her staring, she felt embarrassed. Having a stranger practically boring into you couldn't be a comfortable thing. Though it wasn't as if it was planned. She intended to focus on the discussion, but then they locked eyes, and it wasn't like anything she'd experienced before. It was instantaneous, the sensation somewhat familiar, she just couldn't place it.

Only when Willow had something to say did the trance break, and they blinked for several moments, trying to clear their heads. She found out a name when the person running the meeting called for quiet to allow her to speak--Tara. She waited for her to defend Willow, but all the attention directed her way seemed to make her nervous. Buffy's heart broke, as it was doing for Willow now.

"Like I did." The hacker slumped her shoulders.

"Will, they're stupid, you're not." Buffy put her arm around them. "Am I speaking Chinese? Do I need to find a translator to get the message across? Cause if it has to come to that, then we have problems."

Willow smiled gratefully, shaking her head. "I'd just like to float something bigger than a pencil someday." She sighed, and then the smile was back, as she wondered how her little matchmaking attempt was working out. "Hey, how's with you and Riley?"

"We're with nothing. Give it up, girl. He's not in consideration."

Pout. "Aw, come on, Buffy. I need my vicarious smoochies."

"Always Xander and Anya."

The redhead made a face. "Ugh. No thank you. Definitely gonna hafta pass." When did Xander lose his mind? "But you will be kissing somebody before the year's over; that's a promise."

The slayer reddened a little. "Don't hold your breath...and, wait a minute. What about you?"

"Uh uh, no way. Situations like this have a system of rules. The most important? Cause your boyfriend left first, I, as your friend, have to set you up first." Willow's voice was firm. "I'm a non-budger with rules. Once you're all 'date-ho' again, then you can worry about my turn. If...if I'm ready and all."

"Good luck." The blonde said, meaning it. If Willow was successful, it meant good things for her. "Hey, if Tara's really into witchcraft, you should tell her she can hang with us. Maybe she'll wanna join the gang and there can be a vote or an initiation or something. She'd know about demons, right? It's just...she looked like she could use a few friends, and misfits have to stick together."

An expression of confusion formed on Willow's face, but she shrugged. "K, sure."

"What?"

"What, what?"

Buffy cocked an eyebrow. "Whatever."

***

There was nothing like losing your vocal chords to make you appreciate them. Everything else had passed through Sunnydale, so why not fairytale monsters who stole people's hearts and voices? Willow had finally caught up with Tara during the extended period of silence, and they had helped each other out, using their combined magickal strengths to move a vending machine in front of a door, protecting them from attack.

The blonde was definitely the genuine article, and "shy" was an understatement when describing her. Willow couldn't ever remember being as reserved as her fellow practioner. Even as they found seats in the lounge the following day, she managed to duck behind her hair, and had a tendency to stutter. It was kind of cute, but also kind of sad. The redhead could see why Buffy noticed her, though--her friend was always able to appreciate someone's unique quirkiness from minute one, and able to know that somewhere underneath the quirkiness was a person worth knowing.

But generally the slayer wasn't that enthusiastic over someone who didn't speak very often. Except with Tara, she was; at least that's how it appeared. The last time that happened was when they first knew Angel--he'd say two words and disappear, but her friend still swooned. There was no swooning now, was there? No, couldn't be. It was just a lot of unexpected interest. Weird no doubt, but she told Buffy she'd talk to the girl, so she would.

"You were there looking for me?"

"I thought maybe we could do a spell, make people talk again? I-I'd seen you in the group--the w-wicca group? You were...you were different than them. I mean, they didn't seem to know--" Tara began explaining.

"What they were talking about?" Willow laughed lightly.

"I think if they saw a w-witch they would, um...run the other way." The girl joked with a smile, and nervous laugh. "Uh, th-that girl, you were...sitting next to, is she your fr-friend?"

"Who, Buffy? Yeah, best friend; but she's not a witch. She has...other hobbies." The hacker wasn't sure, but she thought that was relief on Tara's face.

"Like what?"

"Oh, you know, girly stuff." The redhead should've prepared better. "Shoes, cheesy romance movies...kickboxing."

Eyebrows furrowed. "Kickboxing?"

"Buffy's big on self-defense. Sunnydale's a scary place." Willow didn't like being put on the spot; she wasn't a great secret-keeper. "She's real strong; I think it drives potential boyfriends away. Guys get all huffy and macho." Scowl. "If I sound bitter, it's cause I sorta am. We're recent dumpees."

The explanation was lame, but it would have to do.

"I'm sorry." Tara frowned.

"Thanks." Willow smiled gratefully. "We're coping okay, but when we run out of ice cream, it won't be pretty."

Why did she expect this girl she'd just met to care about their problems?

"You're really nice. I'm sure you and Buffy'll both...find n-new people. And with the power you guys have--"

"Me? Powerful? Nooo." She got smiled at again. "Just Buffy. But come and eat lunch with us sometime--you can meet her."

"Oh, um, I dunno...I wouldn't wanna get...in the w-way." The blonde avoided shyly.

"She wants to meet you."

"Sh-she does?" Tara's smile grew wider. "She s-said that?"

"Uh huh." A laugh was stifled. "So how long have you been practicing?"

***

'Perfect.' Tara thought as she went into her dorm the next day.

Why was she always attracted to the wrong people? Boys, they liked boys. Buffy liked boys. At least she knew she didn't have a chance now instead of later. Even if sexuality wasn't an issue, it wasn't like she'd get very far. She couldn't talk without tripping over her own words, nor was she interesting or funny--a serious disadvantage, because she felt like Buffy was special. They both were cool, but when she saw her in the meeting, she couldn't look away.

Anyway, the point being, they were cool, she wasn't. At all.

She needed a distraction, needed to hole herself in her room, just like she did back home. She left to start fresh, to get away from her overbearing family. It hadn't worked yet; she was too afraid. How was she supposed to get friends, gain confidence, then? Her conversation with Willow was the most she'd spoken since arriving in town, and her mom was the only one who'd ever been encouraging. Unfortunately, the woman had gone.

If she believed the things her mother told her, maybe things would be different. It was pathetic; she was pathetic. But she was invited to lunch, wasn't she? Buffy wanted to meet her, right? Though that didn't matter, because what if she really started to like her? It wouldn't turn out well--especially because of what she was. It'd be better if she remained in her bubble; no one got hurt that way.

All she needed was a few animals, and then she could live her life in peace. 'So your big goal is to become one of those lonely, crazy ladies with fifty cats?'

"They're not crazy. They're sweet, and a little eccentric." She argued with herself.

'Or they're nuts. And you can pretend like the words don't all mean the same thing if you want, but it doesn't change the fact that they do. You learn that in reality, Tara.'

"Yeah, I know." She sighed, giving in, when there was a knock at her door. Not believing someone would want to visit her, it took a second for her to answer. "Hel--"

Buffy and Willow were standing in the hallway.

"You're coming to lunch. If we stand here it just keeps getting later and later, and before you know it, dinner'll be here. Time's wacky that way." The slayer announced, she and her friend taking an arm each and dragging her with them. "Sorry about the barging in; should've told Willow to mention that the offer wasn't optional."

"Buffy, Tara; Tara, Buffy." Willow introduced them.

"H-hi."

"Hey."

'Wow. This is new.'

***

The trio of females sat in the college's food court, two of them eating unhealthy, grease-covered meals, the other sticking to a salad topped with a light amount of Thousand Island dressing. Tara ate less when she was nervous; her stomach couldn't handle anything too heavy. They were on the subject of "magick" now, though, a calming subject. She kept discreetly glancing at Buffy, not wanting to be obvious about it, and wondering if what she and Willow were saying was being followed. The last thing she wanted was to be rude.

Was there comprehension? Not really. 

It wasn't like there was no attempt, but Buffy was out of her element--the blank look a dead giveaway. Here they were talking about spells and twenty different kinds of warts, and all she could contribute were ointment suggestions. Willow had found herself a partner to learn from, and though she was happy for that, she still wanted in on the discussion. The more complicated the words got, the further distanced she became. She didn't understand why that bugged her, but it did.

Willow had been doing spells for the past year and a half, and when they came to that topic during conversations, being able to only absorb every other sentence hadn't bothered her. Her friend would let her know what was a positive so she could be congratulatory, and what was a negative, so she could cheer her up. It was a reliable system, except now she was lost. Couldn't they veer off back into the land of generality? They were going to spend plenty of spell-casting time together--this was *her* hour. *She* was the one who told Willow to invite Tara to lunch.

Why did she want to sound interesting and knowledgeable to the new girl? She hadn't exactly thought that through. Still, if this went on any longer, she was going to start to fidget. There had to be something on par with magick in the attention-grabbing department. Something that would make her appear intelligent. As Tara turned to look at her for what seemed like the umpteenth time, giving her that cute half-smile/half-grin, she was unable to stop herself from blurting out--

"I'm a vampire slayer." She didn't believe in secrets, anyway.

***

The witches made the slayer go to the magick shop with them after they'd all finished eating, which just added to the "outsider" feeling she was already experiencing. Considering that Tara called the owner by name as they walked in, Buffy deduced that the girl must know her craft, and would steer them clear of poisonous things, amulets that would transport them to some inescapable, demon dimension, or rarely heard of animal parts.

The blondes stuck together while the redhead went off to search on her own, coming back at random moments to show her fellow wicca various objects. Willow wanted to let them talk. Buffy didn't know whether Tara was humoring her or not, asking about vampires' weaknesses (things any good, monster flick got right), though she was glad for it after the rather one-sided lunch, which caused her IQ to plummet.

"Stakes, fire, beheading, sunlight--there's your big four. Actually, I think that's the only four. If I wasn't cheated out of that handbook..."

"There's a handbook?" Tara's interest was piqued.

"That's the rumor." Buffy muttered. "Anyway, if you just want to injure or distract, there's crosses, holywater, and garlic." Her forehead creased. "You know what? I don't think I've ever put garlic to the test. Too smelly."

"Then you d-don't wanna open this." The witch inspected a jar, read the label 'Gabroth Exc.,' then showed it to Buffy before setting it back down.

"Is 'Exc.' short for what I think it's short for?"

Grin. "Uh huh."

"Eew. How can you do spells with that stuff?"

"Outside. On a...very windy day."

Buffy chuckled, and picked up a bag filled with what appeared to be leaves. "What's this?"

"Uh, Ginkgo. It helps with memory...st-stimulates the brain."

"This would come in handy. It doesn't make courses any more interesting, does it?" The girl's amused look told her it didn't. "Somebody should sell this in drink-form at like, supermarkets and make a fortune."

"They already do. In health drinks. An-and you can take them like vitamins." Tara explained further.

"Oh. Right." And the IQ hit bottom. "I was...just testing you."

"The leaves don't really have any major magickal properties, but people just starting out sometimes think they do, so Mr. Bogarty puts them up for sale to make more money. They're g-good in tea, though."

"So it's like a magick placebo."

"Exactly." The witch smiled.

"And you were ready to give up on me." The shorter, pleased blonde said aloud to her brain.

"Give up on you?"

Normal people thought quietly. "Ignore me."

"Why w-would I wanna do that?" Tara wondered seriously, which made Buffy smile broadly. "Vampires--can they t-turn into bats?"

"Nope, and if they did, my hair would be gray right now. Purely a movie invention. Can you imagine me running around a graveyard with a net trying to catch the damn things?"

Tara giggled. She could, and it was a funny image.

Willow made her way over to them then, seeing the bags of Gingko leaves. "Ooh. Great, I need more of these." The blondes exchanged knowing grins. "What?"

***

"Giles!" Buffy yelled, barging through his front door later that night after patrol. "I wanna learn about magick!"

"Excuse me?" The ex-watcher said, looking up from the book he was reading.

"I need one of those." She pointed to it. "The thing with the pages. Only it has to be about magick, not..." She stood in front of the sofa and tilted her head to the side so she could see the title. "...'How to Basket Weave'?"

"Right." He stuffed the book behind a pillow. "Uh, any particular area?"

"History, I guess. Just your basic, general info." She got a mischievous look in her eye. "Unless ya want me bippity-boppity-booing stuff. Hey, I'll try anything once."

"I'd rather you not." He said with a cough.

"Thought so." She smiled, putting her hands behind her back.

"Let me see what I have."

"Great. Thanks."

"Why the sudden interest?" He got up to scour his collection.

"Why the sudden interest in becoming the male, Martha Stewart?" She was answered with a stern, English glare. "What? Is there something wrong with a girl wanting to expand her mystical horizons? Wanting to grasp new and exciting concepts?"

"No, of course not. But past experience has shown that you're not the type to pursue knowledge...outside of a formal, academic setting." He said as gently as possible.

Giles was right, but she wasn't going to admit that out loud. She had come away from the lunch and the ingredient-gathering wanting to study magick and its background, to be able to relate to Tara. She wasn't going to deny that, but questioning why the witch had made such an impression had taken her nowhere so far.

It came down to this: whatever happened in that meeting hadn't faded, and...well, there was just something about her. Different--being around Tara felt different. In a good way. Sure didn't feel bad. She liked her right off the bat.

But her father figure didn't have to know all that.

"Could that be any more British? You Americanize, then you revert. Your girlfriend's a bad influence; pick a flag to salute and stick with it." Two glares in less than five minutes--she was proud. "Just say what you mean in 'normal person language' for once. You don't think I'm a go-getter when it comes to filling up my brain with...with..."

"Facts?" Giles supplied.

"Yeah, those!" Buffy exclaimed. "I got into college, didn't I?"

"And sometimes I still find myself wondering how." He remarked sarcastically, causing her mouth to hang open. "You could have asked Willow for assistance."

"I'm thinking that would've been a better idea. If I'd a known that I was gonna interrupt 'Basket Weaving 101'..." She laid her arms across her chest. "Do you have some or not?"

"Yes. Hang on." He turned to her, looking a tad concerned. "Are you all right? You seem somewhat distracted."

"I am *not* distracted." She responded adamantly. "It's assumptions like that that get people turned into demons."

A glare hat trick; she was on tonight. "My mistake."

***

"Man..." Buffy muttered leaving her English professor's office the next morning.

She pulled a muscle in her back the previous night while slaying, though the pain hadn't yet taken effect when she demanded books from Giles. And she didn't dare tell him about her little mishap--he just would've made her train more. She'd been coping well, but having to run at high speed to deliver a paper on time aggravated the area. That distraction coupled with lack of sleep from being up late perusing an introductory chapter on Wicca, caused her to bump into Tara in the hallway.

'Way to go, Buffy. Injure her. What a great message you're sending.'

Thankfully, her slayer reflexes enabled her to keep the witch from falling; she latched on until Tara got her balance back.

"Hey, Tara...and sorry." She apologized, not doing a very good job of masking her pain. "Am I the only one who wants this day to be over?"

"Did you have a late paper, too?" Tara asked, noticing her discomfort.

"You have no idea how much that just cheered me up." The slayer smiled slightly. "But do you know a cure for back pain? It's not cooperating with its buddies, 'The Other Parts of Buffy's Body.'" Tara opened her mouth, but the other blonde kept going. "Sworn duty? Who needs it? If anyone ever comes up to you and tells you you're a vampire slayer, run to Cuba and become a Communist. Sure, fighting the forces of darkness sounds glamorous, but it's all an illusion. With no dental plan."

"I'll remember that...I think."

"Be sure you do."

Tara chewed on her lip, unsure of what this was going to get her into. "I-I could probably...I m-mean, if you mix the right herbs and in-ingredients and rub it into..." She tapered off there, hoping she wasn't flushing. "Um, it loosens the muscle."

"It's my lower back. I can't really reach it."

"Oh." Tara swallowed. Bad. Bad, bad, *bad*. "W-well, did-did you want me to...do it? Back in m-my dorm? I have everything there. Or--"

"If that's a massage offer, I'm *all* for it. Lead the way, but...slowly?"

During that slow walk, Buffy's mind wandered, contemplating what she'd assented to. This was simply going to be an alleviation of pain by a friend. No big deal. Then again, her back was preventing rational thought.

Crossing into Tara's room, she smiled. The lights were pretty, and it was a decently sized living space. Felt lonely, though. "Nice. D'you have a roommate?"

"No, I don't kn-know why they didn't give me one." The taller blonde went to raid her supplies.

"Least you can do what you want without anybody asking questions."

"Yeah, most of the time I like that." The other times the witch wished she had somebody besides herself in the room. Like now. "You can l-lay down on the b-bed, if..."

Buffy wasted no time; she was lying face up on the mattress and sighing in relief. "Oh yeah. Much better." While her savior was preparing things, she figured she had to fill the silence. "Willow's excited about doing magick with you. Almost as excited as the one time she had four mochas in a row; she's under strict watch now because of that. Don't expose her to caffeine under any circumstances--it leads to badness."

"I won't, and...so am I." Tara smiled. "She's got so much power, and she doesn't realize it. My mom was the same way--she said the m-most important thing about spells was learning to control them."

"And you'll help Will do that, right? Cause magick kinda scares me." Buffy admitted, even though she was becoming more informed about the subject. "No offense."

"N-no, it should. Magick is something you have to respect, cause it is dangerous. Like, you can't interfere with natural processes." Tara was always taught be afraid of the possibilities; if you feared it, you didn't cross the line. Finishing the mixture, she brought it over to the bed. "But don't worry, this is all-natural. I only u-use magick when I have to."

"Good policy." The slayer told her, and then without needing to be instructed to, turned over. "I appreciate this. Remind me to return the favor sometime."

Tara sat on the end of her bed, and stared down at the shirt that covered Buffy's back. She froze--this was a bad idea. "Does this kind of thing happen a lot?"

"If I'm lucky, it's all that happens. I've had worse, more visible injuries, believe me."

Frown. "How do you handle it?"

"I dunno. I just block it out during the fight, and hope I've got enough strength to limp somewhere afterwards." Buffy was completely nonchalant; it worried Tara. "Everything okay? Where's my relief?"

The wicca had to pull herself together; it wasn't her place to butt in. She had to concentrate on giving the only thing she could at the moment--a harmless, totally innocent massage. She couldn't back out just because of her hormones. She'd do this, it would stay within appropriate boundaries, and she wouldn't wreck a good thing. Lifting up the shirt, shaking, she gathered some of the green-colored cream she made onto her fingers, and began rubbing it in.

The initial contact caused both girls to suck in audible breaths, and Tara had to force herself not to stop right then. Calm, even breathing. Though Buffy's sighs and noises of satisfaction were complimentary, they didn't make things easier. Below her had been a tense slayer, but no longer. It got even better when she applied pressure to just the right spot, and the offending "knot" untied itself under her touch.

"Ah...I think you..." Buffy intended to tell Tara the efforts were successful, but the sentence died before it was uttered. Her higher processes didn't care why she was still enjoying it. "Yow..."

"Does it hurt?" Tara's voice was so low, that it was hard to hear.

"Not hurt...definitely...no...yowness good..." Her patient murmured, eyelids drooping.

The phone seemed to ring on purpose then, and they received a rude awakening. On the second ring the shock wore off, the glaze vanishing from their eyes. Tara grabbed it as quickly as she could manage while Buffy sat up, straightening her shirt, coughing for good measure. They tried to pretend like everything was normal.

"H-hi?...Willow?" The amateur masseuse recognized the person on the other end. "She's r-right here..."

The slayer smacked her forehead. "We're supposed to be studying for Pysch. Tell her I'll be there in five. And thanks for fixing me; I think I owe you." 'Shake it off.'

Tara nodded, gave a weak smile, and then her guest left. Their blood had to journey upwards to their brains. Once she hung up with Willow she fell back onto her bed, praying the shower was unoccupied. That bordered on something other than friendly...her mother's advice about control wasn't simply limited to magick.

***

"I'm glad you came; I know it's late." Willow said to Tara as she let her into the dorm room.

"I don't mind. It-It's fun doing spells with somebody else...there's more focus. We'll figure it out."

"It's simple really, but I just can't get it." In the middle of the floor sat the design of a star, and inside of it was a circle of white powder. A rose lay off to the side. "We're gonna float the rose. Then use the magicks to pluck the petals off, one at a time. Probably hasn't been working cause the book says something about having more than one person. Duh me, right? It's a synchronicity thing."

"Cool." They sat opposite each other within the star.

"And it should be very pretty."

The redhead placed the rose in the center of the star, and Tara's eye caught sight of the high stack of magick-related books on one of the beds. "Are those all yours?"

"Nope. Buffy's. She borrowed them from Giles--seeing as how he's an ex-librarian and has more book knowledge than even me."

"He's her watcher too, right?"

"Yep. Sorta-kinda unofficially, but without him, we woulda been flying blind the past few years. Uh, not in the literally, 'being airborne' sense, but...you get the point." A wave of unsure-ness crashed over her, then. "Don't you?"

The blonde nodded, smiling. "Um, why does she have--?"

"I dunno, but lately? She's been staying up, reading 'em like a crammer on their twelfth Coke. In a row." Willow revealed with her own smile, then hastily amended, "The soda. Not-not that I have *any* clue what that would...be like, though." Continuing after a weak laugh, she didn't quite believe herself. "But if 'magick' was a class, her GPA would go through the roof; she won't tell me what it really is, cause she knows I'd faint." Tara got this huge grin on her face. "Ready?"

They held out their arms, grasped hands, and then closed their eyes. Willow was taking deep breaths, beginning to feel the energy flowing. Then her partner opened a lid.

"What kind of stuff does she like to do? Besides punching?" Tara was frowned at. "Af-after we're done."

Why couldn't the blondes just ask each other these things? They began again, and soon, a bright light appeared on the star. Feeling the breeze signaled to them that the spell was taking effect, and after a few seconds, they opened their eyes. Seeing the rose on the same level as their shoulders, they separated their hands.

"It worked."

"Now for the hard part." Willow said as Buffy was just getting in, and all concentration was lost. The rose flew at the slayer, who caught it. "Or not."

"You shouldn't have." She brought the flower to her nose, smirking. "Am I interrupting?" Looking between the two, the redhead threw her hands in the air. "Patrol was boring. I just wanna curl up with Mr. Gordo and read about Salem. I could skip it, but I hafta be thorough. No matter how disturbing. Hi, Tara."

They both blushed at the same moment. Every time they saw one another since the "almost something" incident, memories of beds and massages were recalled. Wasn't something they'd soon forget, and for Buffy, it added all new thoughts for her to analyze. Some less than platonic ones recently, and the funny thing? They weren't entirely unwelcome.

The witch waved. "Mr. Gordo?"

"My pig." That answer cleared everything *right* up. "I'll show'm to you."

Willow was getting the impression that she'd have to step in and do something with them if she ever wanted to grow as a witch, but she didn't know what, yet.

***

"Welcome to my world." Buffy announced to Tara almost a week after the rose debacle, staring at the sight before her still with caution and fascination, despite the years of experience. "Friendly reminder? It isn't too late to run for cover; you'll be safer that way."

Her emergency lifeline for this daunting task wasn't as intimidated as she thought she'd be. "But aren't they just...shoes?"

The noisy, mall traffic seemed to become significantly less audible as the slayer gasped. "You are a girl, right?" She jibed good-naturedly, missing the brief glimmer of sadness that passed over the much-deprived witch's features. "So naïve." She said, almost pityingly. "Could cost you. As in, those might be your last--soon to be famous--words."

"I'll take m-my chances with you." Tara said confidently, now that the last vestiges of awkwardness over the massage were gone.

"Okay, but once I get started, I don't stop. Mall shopping is all about momentum, and you have to work extra hard at keeping it when dealing with shoes, because of the having to actually try them on, which means a drop in speed." They stood on the threshold, not quite in the store, but also where "too late" had arrived. "Here's the plan--we won't have time to squint and check sizes, so when we see shoes we like? I grab all the boxes. I put the ones you like on your feet, you put the ones I like on my feet. Be more efficient.

"The ones that fit us we hoard for ourselves, while going back for Round Two, repeating the process over, and then narrowing down our options based on comfort, general style, color, and price, all while continually moving toward the register. In the days when I had money we wouldn't have to, but hey, I've adapted. Let's just hope today's our lucky day."

She removed her sneakers to cut down on precious seconds, and held them in her hand. Her eyes told Tara to do the same. After the witch had, they went into battle.

Later, sitting in the food court with Xander and Willow, they made sure she had plenty of Orange Julius to replenish her fluids, and Xander did what any well-trained male should do upon seeing that an exhausted woman had just spent the most harrowing thirty-five minutes of her life to buy one pair of shoes...compliments, compliments, compliments. He was a sweetie.

Tara had seen a whole new side of Buffy that was both exciting and scary, but she felt proud that she had been trusted enough to be a partner in this. Plus, it was a valuable learning experience; she never knew it was so cutthroat. At home, she'd sleep off the bruises for two days.

***

Two afternoons later, Giles was returning home to find Buffy and someone new in the courtyard of his apartment building, sitting on the fountain together. His once charge held the books he'd loaned on her lap, while the other girl had three of what he assumed were her own, off to the side. Eavesdropping wasn't something he usually condoned, but in this instance he stayed back, unable to help himself.

"...I know. Totally onboard with the Ringwald-love." Buffy apparently agreed, finishing her statement. "Though sometimes I hafta go with Ally Sheedy, just cause she was pretty much the underdog. Might identify more than a little."

"No," The taller, college-age blonde shook her head disbelievingly, "you're a-a hero. I-I'm the underdog. Used to it."

"Says who? Not an underdog to me." The shorter countered, her hand finding her companion's to rest on. He watched the girl brighten just a bit more, and saw the two share a look. "And, not a hero, Tara; just a girl whose name got picked out of a giant, cosmic, foam hat, really. I have some strength, sure--"

"And you use it. To save the world." The new friend dubbed "Tara" uttered with respectful admiration, though it didn't cross the line into reverence and pedestal hoisting. "You should be proud of what you do."

Buffy visibly shied away from the attention. "Well somebody's gotta, and I'm the most convenient option." She then got distracted on purpose, as her hand found Tara's hair. "You know, you should pull it back every once and a while." As this was becoming oddly more intimate, he was going to turn away, but as Tara's eyes began to flutter, Buffy realized what he had and tried to return to conversation. "But hey, back to 'personality bullet points'--Favorite Music and/or Artists?"

Tara pondered and recovered a moment before answering. "Counting Crows and um, Liz Phair."

For some reason, this was surprising to his surrogate daughter. "Melodic, wordy, and often catchy pain I get...but, 'chick rock'? That doesn't seem like you."

Here Giles could tell Tara was thinking the same thing as he--'She's given thought to what type of person this girl seems like?'

"What did you...think I'd like?"

"Something, I dunno, softer. In general." Buffy said, giving a half-smile. "Cause you're gentle." Suddenly they both averted their gazes as if they had a shared secret, and grinned rather imperceptibly.

"Oh." Lopsided grin.

Now he entered, but extra weight into his steps so they could hear. Both girls took on that, "hand in the cookie jar" look, and stood to greet him. He glanced down at the spines of the books Tara had next to her, and seeing that they were quite old spell books, he finally understood Buffy's out-of-nowhere interest in magick, as well as put the last pieces together. His "British-ness," as the kids called it, was held in check at this revelation, though.

"Hey, Giles." Buffy spoke first. "You weren't home so we waited, because I didn't wanna abuse 'key' privileges and..." She noticed the baby, potted plant he carried. "...is that a Ficus?"   

"Ah, as a matter of fact it is." He told her, looking over at it himself. "I thought I was past due for a green thumb, so, start off small, you know." Sighed at the blank stare. "Is there something you needed?"

She nodded, glad to be free of that midlife crisis awkwardness. "First, to return these," She looked down at the stack in her hands, "which could stand to lose a few pounds. Isn't it funny how I only got books from you *after* the library blew up?" Came the rhetorical question. "Second, to, um, introduce you. Rupert Giles," She cocked her head in Tara's direction, "Tara Maclay. College student, practicing Wicca, and one of my new, good friends who knows my secret identity, cause there's trust. Figured you oughta be in the loop...'full disclosure' and all." Tara smiled politely at him, while Buffy corrected a tiny, white lie. "Okay, so there's no plural. But that says nothing about me whatsoever; I just don't need any more."

"It's n-nice to meet you, Mr. Giles." The pleasant witch shook his free hand. 

"Likewise." He replied warmly, hit by the soulfulness in eyes so young. "How long have you been studying--?"

"Practically since birth." Buffy interjected on Tara's behalf. "She's totally proficient, the best. Glinda-like, even. She's been helping Willow and everything. Wait'll she tells you."

"For that to occur, wouldn't she have to speak for herself?" The once watcher inquired, amused at her attitude.

Sheepish agreement. "Right."

Tara absorbed the praise, and fighting her natural instinct to retreat inward, she grabbed the three books she'd brought. "I'm n-not, really. But, uh, Buffy told me how you're always looking for new volumes to read, an-and I wasn't sure if you'd seen these, but I thought there m-might be something useful. To help."

"Thank you, that's," Gesturing, Tara wordlessly offered to take his plant so he could take the books, and they exchanged, "very thoughtful." He skimmed through the one on top. "Hmm. This is actually...quite interesting. You're sure you don't mind...?"

"Please." She assured him, allowing herself some pride for picking the right ones, while her happy friend squeezed her arm in encouragement.

"Shall we go inside?" He suggested, and then led the way. As he struck his key in the front door, he resumed speech. "So certainly, if you've indeed been casting as long as Buffy claims, you're aware of the inherent dangers? One must know what he or she is getting into."

"Yeah, she--" The slayer piped up again.

This time Tara cut her off. "Yes, sir. I know my limits, and I'm always careful." She promised, looking directly at him as he pushed the door open. "I wouldn't let her get hurt."

He held her gaze. "No--I believe you wouldn't."

Well, Tara obviously knew why she was here, and what she hoped to achieve. However, he got the feeling that though Buffy knew too, it was still on a somewhat subconscious level. Nevertheless, they had his patriarchal consent. The smile on her face alone earned them that.

"You can drop the formal; we don't want his ego to get too big." Buffy advised her fellow, future alumnus.

"It's also known as 'common courtesy' in some circles." He commented sardonically, once they were all under his roof.

"In other circles not mine, maybe." She retorted dismissively. "Ooh, Giles, wanna hear how we met?"

***

Over the following weeks, it had gotten to the point where Buffy and Willow didn't have to go to Tara and physically pry her from her room. The witch was willingly coming to them and asking if they wanted to do one thing or another. She didn't know what they saw in her, but she was grateful to the Goddess for their friendship; if this was all she was allowed she'd be happy with it, and she was in a blissful state of ignorance as well, concealing the truth of what she was even from herself.

She and Willow had set aside practice time each day, and as they talked, the more comfortable she became. As soon as Buffy found out that their sessions were a regular thing, though, the slayer sat in on them. If Tara hadn't known that Buffy was straight, she would've thought the visits were motivated by jealousy, but that was ridiculous. Like a vampire slayer would get jealous over her. She'd seen references in the odd book here and there; Buffy being one was the coolest thing.

There were tons of questions, but when she looked into her aura she saw a lot of pain, and didn't want to upset her by asking too many. She wanted to help, only she wasn't sure how, so they'd talk about regular things. Every once and a while Buffy would mention some magickal fact she'd come across, and Tara was more than happy to explain (and show). It was difficult to explain slaying, however, and even though the witch knew she was, felt it, she'd never seen this big superhero.

Buffy seemed normal enough--caring, strong-willed, yet still fragile. She'd only seen brief glimpses of the other persona, which eventually caused her to decide to view "patrol" on a typical night. Buffy's reaction was somewhere between "worried" and "thrilled," but Tara wouldn't be hurt.

They had just entered the cemetery, in mid-conversation. "Loved your mom a lot, huh?"

"We kind of, understood each other. M-my d-dad and my brother...they didn't. She was amazing." Tara said, fondly. "Not just with magick; she was good at--"

"Being a mom." The slayer smiled.

"Yeah." The witch smiled back.

"Sounds like. Looks like she was good at it, too." Tara blushed at the indirect compliment. "I don't spend enough time with mine. She's had to deal with a bunch of stuff, but she's always been there for me...I think you'd like her."

"If she's anything l-like you..."

Buffy blushed next, and the conversation hit a lull for the next few rows of headstones. Then a more fun topic occurred to her. "Idea--next bullet point. What celebrity and/or hunky movie star do you fantasize about the most? I'd ask the vampires, but I fear their answers. So dish. And don't say you haven't, cause I won't believe you." She wasn't hearing anything. "I'll go first; it's a tie between George Clooney and Brad Pitt. You think they'd get uglier with age, but luckily for us, they don't. Yeah, they probably got some help from plastic surgery--"

"Wow, Brad Pitt...really is a guy? But he always looks so pretty."

Just when she thought she shouldn't have told a joke, Buffy started laughing, and she smiled in relief. "It's scary--I can actually picture him in drag. He might even be more attractive that way, and you know what? I'd switch like that."

"You would?" The witch didn't think her tone was *that* hopeful.

"Sure, why not? I'm thinking of taking lessons from pre-human Anya and just turning my back on men all together. Things never go right; mostly cause of compatibility issues." Such as vampirism, and asshole-ism. It was odd; she generally wasn't this open. "I've gotta conserve my energy, and they're too much work."

"Bad experiences?"

"Nothing but." Sigh. "I'm just venting and ranting, really. I usually say all this to myself, but now that you're here, it sounds less insane. Thanks for the peace of mind."

And hopes were dashed. "An-anytime."

"So? Which celebrity? It's not somebody old, is it? Well, 'Harrison Ford' old is okay; 'Bob Hope' old is just...a disturbing visual place." Cringe. "Let's hear it already; I'm not easily shocked."

'What if she never speaks to me again?'

'I think you know that's not true.'

'I...'

'...have to stop being afraid sometime. Find out who she really is.'

Her internal conservation was over when Buffy placed a hand on her arm and stared at her like she'd gone off to another planet. "Tara?"

Quietly, "Joey Lauren Adams."

"The guy from Blossom?" Tara shook her head with a smirk. When it finally registered, eyes bulged. "Wait, you're--?"

"Well, well."

She couldn't process for very long, because Spike chose at that moment to emerge from the shadows. He'd been eavesdropping for the past twenty minutes, and what he watched he was having a hard time accepting. Approaching, he realized that this was going to be his entertainment for the evening.

The evil-looking grin on his face told Tara to back up, but Buffy just shook her head. "Know the Initiative I told you about? They fixed him." She whispered. "He can only pummel demons, so he basically just skulks around like a loser now. Gets annoying fast."

But Tara wasn't exactly...not demonic. No. She shouldn't have come, shouldn't have deluded herself this far. She was going to lose her for sure.

"I can hear you." Spike spoke up.

"Oh geez, that's right. Super-hearing is a perk for the undead. Don't I feel like a moron?" Buffy said, sarcastically. "What do you want?"

"Was heading off to the butcher's for a refill, and I had to see who was making the big, bad bitch all-a-giggle. Why Slayer, I had no idea you were so liberated. Did it make the poof jealous? He's still stuck in the 1700's, that one."

"Spike, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't tell me you're that bloody blind. She's," He pointed at Tara, stepping close as she hung her head, "all candy hearts and petals for you. Ain't that right, luv?"

Buffy couldn't think, but she knew she wanted him gone. She got in between the two of them. "Leave her alone."

"There we are now, secret's out. I know I feel better." He said with satisfaction. "Or are there more lurking about?" He was then punched, and thrown to the ground by the slayer.

"I c-can't..." Tara stuttered, and once she got her legs to work, she started running.

"You're such a bastard. And, oh yeah, butcher's closed. Go find some rats." She took off after the other girl. "Tara, wait!"

He propped himself up on his elbows, laughing. "What, no gratitude then?"

***

"Come in." Tara said to Willow from her bed.

It was going on five days since she'd spoken to her or Buffy, and this was the first time either of them had approached her; she was convinced the slayer was avoiding her. Well, she was avoiding her too, so it evened out. Sheltering herself hadn't helped, though, just let the fact that she wasn't honest eat away at her. Now she'd pay for it. The other witch came to sit with her, and she looked away.

"How you doing?" Neither spoke for several moments. "Um, I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to help me do some recon--for a psycho slayer."

This got the blonde's attention. She drove her insane? "Is s-something wrong with Buffy?"

"No...no, she's totally fine. Oh, that's right, you don't..." The redhead paused. "It's a long story, but there's another slayer. Her name's Faith, and she's crazy, skanky, and evil. She was in a coma, but she's awake now, which isn't a happy thing. She's bad news; Buffy needs to find her before she hurts any more people."

Tara took a deep breath, considering it. "If-if it'll help...okay."

"It will. But if we see her, we don't engage. That leads to bruised faces. Running, fleeing and skedaddling--that's the plan."

"I'm not so good with the whole," Tara made punches that looked like she was pawing the air, "anyway."

"Swimming?"

"Violence." She clarified lamely, lowering her fists.

"Ask Buffy to show you a move or two. I bet she'd--"

"Do you know? Ab-about me?"

"Mm hmm. And you wanna know what I think? Big whoop, you're gay. It doesn't bother us; not even a tiny bit. Why'd you run off?"

"Cause Buffy found out that I..."

"You do? Seriously?" Willow almost tackled her in a hug. "That's great! But Spike's still a jerk."

The blonde witch was lost. "It is?"

"It's perfect! You guys talk about each other so much it drives me nuts, but that's okay, cause I get it now." Her friend said, excitedly. "I was Cupid in a play once. For Valentine's Day in the fourth grade." She looked embarrassed. "I broke my bow. This time'll be way better, though. She *so* likes you."

Tara vigorously shook her head. "Willow, she's straight."

"Straight-schmaight! If she can date a vampire, she can date a girl. We'll make her flexible. It's my new mission. And she hasn't come by only because she didn't want you to be uncomfortable. Plus, it's been a busy slayage week. With what happened to Professor Walsh and all."

"So she's not m-mad?"

"No way. You gonna get up? The sooner we jail Faith, the sooner you two'll be trading smoochies."

Tara blushed, allowing herself to be pulled off the bed, but before they went any further, she had to be truthful--she couldn't lie anymore. "Th-there's something else." She took a deep breath, and spoke to her feet. "I'm...I'm a d-d-demon." She could imagine the shock. "I'm sorry. I'm so--"

"Who told you that?"

"My dad. All the women in my family. Wh-when they turn twenty."

"Then he's a poop-head." Willow concluded. "You're no demon, cause if you were, I wouldn't call you my friend. Or trust you."

"That's s-sweet, but...you can't be sure."

"I'll find a way to be." She took Tara's hand, and gave her no choice but to look up. "You haven't um, checked me out, have you?"

The girl cleared her throat. "No, of-of course...no."

Disappointedly, "Why not?"

***

Faith couldn't wait to ditch Sunnydale. With Buffy's body the world was open to her; she just had to keep the act up a little while longer. She was sitting in the Bronze across from Tara, a girl Buffy was supposed to know, so she'd nearly blown her cover. Willow was getting the blonde a bottle of water. The way she was being looked at...did the chick have the hots for Miss Goodie Two-Shoes? Holy sh...there was no mistaking that damn, mushy gaze. There was no mistaking the feeling down below and between the legs, either.

What the hell? Where'd this come from? Tara was okay if you liked the, "Disney, G-Rated" type, but she didn't really go for the innocent act--those people were the ones you shoved knives into. Wait, this body was still technically a loner...since when did Buffy get all warm over the smoother sex? The undead were usually more her style. So not only did she decide to hop the fence, she decided to hop the fence for Minnie-Frickin'-Mouse? Jesus, it was pitiful how unadventurous she was.

"B's not driving stick anymore." She whispered in a voice that had yet to become anything other than foreign to her. "Who'd a thought?"

If she'd been aware that Buffy was capable of swinging, she would've pushed a little harder last year, and if she had more time to play she would've taken full advantage of this development. But seeing as how time was of the essence, she'd have to settle for screwing with the girl's mind instead. The girl who was sitting there all awkward and mute after Willow practically made her take a seat. Oh, she wasn't going to pour her heart out, was she? That's just what Faith wanted--a Hallmark moment. Gag.

Her choice to don leather seemed to be distracting the quiet one, and she grinned slyly. "So what's up?"

The second she saw her, Tara felt like...oh no. The pieces were just starting to fit, yet, they didn't. That was the problem. She had to...she couldn't let on that...poor Buffy. The witch was surprised she knew the slayer's aura that well--she saw the holes in an instant. Goddess, where was she?

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Faith wondered. "Hmm. Maybe I oughta rephrase the question."

"Ca-ca-ca..." Damn it. Tara hated when she stuttered.

"You gonna spit that out sometime today, honey? Time's a precious thing, ya know."

"Ca-can we talk?"

"Sure, *I* can talk, but you? So far, evidence looks like it's goin' against you." The rogue dug in deeper. "Listen, here's some free advice. Get help. That little, broken record of a voice you got, isn't doin' you any good. I'm just saying this as a friend who cares about you, cause not pointing this stuff out...well, that would be wrong. We can't have you embarrassing my friends, now can we? I love that gang of mine to death." Faith knew this was out of character, but when she had fun, she had a tendency to get carried away. One of her many flaws.

Willow came over just in time, sounding out of breath. "Buffy, guy in the corner."

The corrupted slayer found the guy she was talking about leading a girl towards the back of the club, but wasn't exactly enthralled. "Yeah. Good call."

"What?" Tara questioned cautiously.

"Vampire."

"Wicked obvious." Again, Faith was disinterested. Until she realized what was expected from her. "So I should slay him." She got up.

"You want help?"

"Nah, I got it."

While the impostor walked away, Tara knew they had to get out of there, and fast. Buffy's life was at stake.

***

"Okay, are you really feeling all blechy, or was that you trying to avoid Buffy?" Willow asked as they entered Tara's dorm. "Cause it's never gonna work if you can't be in the same place for more than five minutes."

"She's not Buffy."

"Are you sure? I mean, the resemblance was very Buffy-like." The redhead didn't think her eyes were that bad.

Tara nodded in agreement--as far as the visuals were concerned. "But she's not."

"You lost me."

"Well, uh, a person's energy has a flow, a unity. Buffy's was...was fragmented. It-it's grated, like something forced in where it doesn't belong. Plus, she was, um, she was kind of mean." The blonde fiddled with her hands.

"So you think Buffy's not herself? Like she's been possessed or something?"

"I'm not sure."

"You didn't sense a hyena energy at all, did you?" Her magick partner asked with concern. "Because hyena possession is just...unpleasant."

"I-I think there's a way we can..." Tara went to her desk and opened the book that was lying out. Next to it sat Mr. Gordo--he could help. "Here..."

Willow joined her, and smiled, seeing the animal. "When did she...?"

"Oh, uh, she said I could borrow him. She thought I n-needed it more." The witch got focused again quickly. "The passage to the nether realm. There-there's a ritual. If you can find Buffy there, you should be able to see."

"If it'll help her." Then Willow noticed the worried expression. "What?"

"Well, the nether realm exists beyond the physical world. Accessing it is...it-it's kind of like astral projection. It's very intense. I'd have to be your anchor. Keep you on this plane."

"I trust you." There was no hesitation.

"I'd go, I-I wanna go, but I have more practice with anchoring, and it's not like anything we've ever--"

"Hey, how many times? I trust you. With my life and with Buffy's. Now let's get her back."

***

"Oh, oh! When I had psychic power, I heard my mom think that you were like a stevedore during sex." Buffy in Faith's body was saying to Giles, trying to convince him that she was telling the truth. With his look, she stopped. "Do you want me to continue?"

"Actually, I beg you to stop." The ex-watcher responded.

"What's a stevedore?"

"All right, let's...um, I need you to explain everything." He diverted her.

"And I will. *After* we get Faith."

He probably had no idea what it took for her to get here, what she was forced to do. The Council's team treated her like an animal. There was so much distrust and loathing in their eyes that it wasn't even funny. She got a taste of what it was like for Faith, and for a moment she felt sorry for her, but then remembered that the brunette had brought it upon herself. Maybe she was partially to blame; she could've been there more. But damn it, Faith had to take responsibility for her own actions.

Key words? Her own. She didn't drive her to murder, and she hated being made to feel guilty for that.

Mostly what kept her from quitting was her desire to save her friends from whatever Faith was planning. And Tara. Tara didn't know Faith like they did, and the girl would be caught in the middle. If the Bostonian figured out the witch had feelings for her, and that she was sort of thinking she possibly did, too, it could've been bad. That's what got her inside Giles' house, because she didn't even get the chance to talk to her yet, after what happened with Spike. Her reactions to that massage made sense now--she was attracted to every aspect of the girl, and wasn't sure how to deal.

The front door opened and Willow and Tara rushed in

"Giles!" The redhead called.

"Will." Buffy turned to her.

"Oh my God."

"Willow, wait. You don't understand."

"You're Buffy. You and Faith switched bodies." Willow addressed the English bachelor next. "Probably through a Draconian Katra spell."

Giles raised his eyebrows. "She understands it better than I do." Didn't exactly surprise him.

"Tara knew right away that you weren't you. So we connected with the nether realms to find out what happened. And we conjured this." She opened the jewelry-box to reveal a small, emerald sphere. "It's a katra. Or the home-conjured version." She gave it to Giles. "It-it should switch you back, if you can get a hold of Faith."

Buffy looked at Tara, who had been silent, and squeezed her in a tight hug. "Tara, thank God." The witch hugged her back, despite the oddness. "If this is too weird, we can stop and wait till I get my body back."

"You're still you."

The slayer smiled, pulling away. "Thanks, but I'm kinda fond of my flesh."

"Me too." Tara said under her breath as the slayer faced her watcher.

"Where's Faith?"

Then the phone rang.

***

It was night in the cemetery. The vampires that had been in the church were dust, Buffy had her body back, and Faith had run. It was doubtful she'd return, but in that split second when they switched, there was a flicker of the real Faith in her eyes. Whatever threads were still holding the other slayer together were extremely thin ones. She was exhausted; she just couldn't chase after her again. Too many lines were crossed, and she'd probably push her over the edge, anyway. Maybe someone else had the power to save her from herself.

She was with Tara--Willow had told her what the blonde had said about being a demon, and that simply wasn't true. It wasn't something she'd enjoy, but there was only one way to prove it. Her dad and brother sounded like two, very close-minded individuals, so she had her own suspicions about why they would lie to her. She wondered if they cared at all about the trauma they'd obviously put her through. With the exception of Giles, Xander, and that guy who lent her a pencil in class last week, she was having difficulty not hating the male race.

"Do you really think you should be out here?" Tara was asking her. "You've been thr-through a lot; you should rest."

"Don't worry, no slaying on the agenda, and this'll only take a minute, I promise." Buffy assured the witch. "I'm not letting you go around thinking you're not human. I bet your dad wouldn't know a real demon if it kicked him in the..." Her whole body tensed. "God, that pisses me off. See, as a rule, I don't trust dads." Her eyes saddened. "Mine could care less about me and my mom. One second I was his daughter, the next it was, 'We're divorced now, see ya! Oh, and you'll get a couple empty promises from me a month.'"

Tara tried to kill the butterflies in her stomach, but didn't say a word. She wanted to believe she was human, yet she was trained to believe his word was final. Blind obedience got mistaken for love. She had known her father wasn't a good man even when her mother used to hear most of his commands, but if she saw him again, she'd probably fall into line without a fight.

"I'm getting off track, aren't I?" The slayer said, apologetically. "We're not here for me, and...I should keep my mouth shut."

"No, it's...just another thing we have in c-common." Tara attempted to make light, but it didn't quite work.

They trekked quietly for a while, thinking to themselves. Buffy thought about her numerous, unresolved issues with her father and how she still hated that she missed him. Her magickal companion thought about how she had a tendency to take the negative things said about her to heart more than she did the positives. Which was why the belief that she was a demon was so rooted in her, and why what Faith had said continued to stick.

"B-Buffy? When I...d-do what I just did..."

"Stutter?"

The blonde witch nodded. "Does it b-bother you? I've done it, um, since I was a little girl. I get nervous and-and...I sound like a dork."

"You're definitely far from being a dork. It's...cute." They both turned red. "But there's no reason to be nervous." Buffy wanted to convince her of that fact. "Everyone met you, right? They liked you, Willow likes you, I like you--"

"That's kinda what makes me..." Eyes lowered.

"Oh." The petite girl cleared her throat. "Yeah, I guess we should talk about...things. First you have to see that you're as human as the next, uh, human person, though. Which is gonna happen right now."

They reached a crypt that was inhabited by a certain vampire, and Buffy shoved the door open to find Spike watching television. He turned his head in their direction with a scowl, clicking the "off" button on the remote. Taking a cigarette out of the pack that sat on the arm of his chair, he stood, moving to acknowledge the visitors who weren't polite enough to knock. When he could see the vein pulsing in Buffy's neck, he stopped and lit the cigarette.

"Ellen," He addressed Tara, "Anne." He glanced at the slayer. "What brings you by the grave unannounced?"

"Need you to do something for us, Spike." Buffy was already annoyed.

He raised his eyebrows. "See, here's the thing. Charity got old a century and a half ago; never been the generous type. And last time I checked, helping out the Slayer's little bird wasn't on my 'To-Do' list."

"Does it look like I care?"

"Does it look like I do? Go on, you're interrupting my Tele-Time."

She charged him, planting her forearm against his neck so he would stay in place along the right wall of the crypt. The cigarette dropped from his mouth, and she promptly stomped on it. "You don't have a choice."

"Buffy, maybe we--" Tara tried, thinking it wasn't worth this much trouble.

"It's all right, Tara." The slayer focused on Spike. "Look, her family made her think she was a demon, okay?"

Spike eyed the witch over her shoulder. "Her? A demon? Right." He snorted, grinning and nearly laughing at her manipulability; he found it funny. "I knew it--gullible as she looks. Had her pegged from the start."

"Stop talking." She increased the pressure. "Help me show her she's not, you live."

"That threat has me quakin' more and more every time I hear it." He pushed her off. "You offering me a free shot, Slayer? Wouldn't wanna scar the girl...not that I see much there worth savin'. 'Course, she might just keep her valuables tucked away. So tell us the secret--hidden underneath, are they?"

She slugged her enemy in the jaw. "She's good, and caring, and beautiful. All qualities you continue to lack, so I'll be watching. Tara, c'mere." The witch hurried to her side while he got past his pain, but she instantly had doubts. "You know, forget it. We'll think of something else. Him hurting you..."

"I have to know. And he won't h-hurt me that bad."

"Not if he wants to avoid a massive headache followed by a staking." The last comment was pointedly directed at him, as Buffy wrapped an arm around the slightly taller blonde's shoulders. "I mean it."

"I trust you." That affirmation was followed by a radiant smile--a superhero thought she was beautiful. Her, Tara Maclay.

Spike looked bored. "Cue the bleeding harps...let's just get on with it." He hit her nose with the thick part of his palm, and then reeled back in pain, grabbing his head and gritting his teeth, which forced back any screams that would've made him appear any less tough. "Happy?!"

Tara brought her hands to shield her nose. "He hit my nose!"

"And it hurt him." Buffy was wincing, but sort of smiled, grabbing Tara's hands and checking her nose for injuries. It looked fine. "So what's that mean?"

"I'm not a demon?" The wicca asked, her eyes

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