Tara smiled to herself grimly as the brown haired women finished her work, her thoughts whirling about restlessly. Dressed in a casual style with a leather jacket, jeans and blouse she looked like any other woman in the Bronze, but beneath the surface she was far, far different. "Well," the faintly accented voice said, "you've been looking for me, I hear." "Doyle," Tara looked up, flashing a faint smile. The black haired man was thin, almost tired looking as he walked up, but his smile was honestly friendly. "Been awhile, Tara," he said, his Irish accent thickening a bit. "Too long," Tara took his hand and shook it. Dropping her voice a bit as she led him up to the bar she asked, "Are you still in LA?" "Ya, along with Angel's crew," Doyle admitted, "mighty big shoes to fill but I'm doing my best at it." "I can imagine," Tara admitted, thinking of the things she had heard about the ensouled vampire before his final death. "I'm lucky I have Gunn," Doyle mused, "along with Caridad, Fred and the others Angel trained." He shook himself, "But enough about all that, you wouldn't have called me up without a good reason." "Yeah," Tara sighed, pouring them both beers. Passing him one she said, "You remember Amy, right?" "Nice kid," Doyle agreed, "I was sorry when I heard...." "Well, she's not a nice kid any more," Tara took a drink, "she's a vampire." "Crap," Doyle murmured softly, closing his eyes. He took a slug of his beer then asked, "Has anyone managed to stake her?" "No," Tara shook her head bleakly, "we can't even find her. Do you think your visions could help us?" Doyle swirled the beer around in his glass uncomfortably. "If I haven't had a vision yet," he confessed, "I'm probably not going to. The Powers send the visions for their own reasons, not ones we usually understand." "Damn," Tara sighed. "I can put the word out through my contacts," Doyle offered gently, "if anyone in Sunnydale is doing business with the baddies in LA, I can find out." "Thank you," Tara made herself smile, "and maybe we can borrow some muscle later, if we need it?" "Heh," Doyle smiled as he patted her hand, "call, and we'll come running." Just then the door to the Bronze crashed open, two struggling figures falling to the clean floor as they struggled hard. "Oh hell," Tara growled, moving to stop them then blinking as she realized both seemed human and one was her girlfriend. "Hi honey," Faith managed as she head butted, the other woman, "sorry I'm late." "Damn it Gwen," Doyle burst out, his accent thickening with anger and surprise,"wha' the 'ell are you doin'?" "You know her?" Faith blinked, relaxing her hold on the other woman. The black haired young woman also stopped struggling, blinking a bit sheepishly. "You know her, boss?" Gwen asked. "Yes I know her," Doyle growled, "she's the Slayer, damn it!" Gwen instantly released her grip on Faith and gave her a weak smile, "Ooops?" "What's going on?" Tara asked as she offered Faith a hand up. "I saw little miss leather here," Faith gestured, "hanging out outside the bar, and figured she was up to no good." "The name is Gwen Raiden," she said frostily, "and I was keeping a eye on the place in case this was some kind of trap for Doyle." She sniffed, "Wolfram and Hart would love to capture or kill a link to the Powers that Be," "Raiden?" Faith sniffed, "tell me you were born with that name, babe." Gwen glared at her, "None of your business." All around them the bar continued it's business, one of the waitresses up behind the bar filling in. If you lived in Sunnydale any period of time you got used to a certain degree of oddness, and two sexy ladies cat fighting barely made anyone bat an eye. "Play nice," Doyle said, his eyes flaring a bit as he fought to control his demon side. Gentling his tone he looked at Tara, "Sorry for my partner's over enthusiasm. She's usually better house broken than this." "Hey!" Gwen protested. "Well, Faith could have asked rather than jump her," Tara conceded, "so I figure we're pretty much even." "Humph," Faith pouted a bit. "It's been good to see you," Doyle shook Tara's hand, "and if I do hear of anything, I'll let you know soonest." "And if there's anything I or the coven can do, let us know," Tara promised. After the two left Faith smiled wryly at Tara, "Forgive me for embarrassing you in front of your friend?" Tara chuckled softly, "It's all right, love." "So," Faith asked as they headed up to the bar, "who is he?" "Allen Doyle," Tara said as they sat down on the bar stools, "he's a seer, a half demon who's been granted visions of the future by the Powers that Be." "Damn," Faith blinked as she signaled for a drink and a refill for Tara. "Before Angel came to Sunnydale to face the Master they worked together," Tara said, "organizing a LA band of monster fighters that's still going strong. The Coven here has helped them at times too." "Which explains how you know him," Faith agreed. She looked at Tara with a sad smile, "Please don't do anything without telling me, please?" "I'll try," Tara promised, "but if I get a shot at finding Amy and no one's around, I may have to go for it." "Remind me to get a beeper or something," Faith sighed. "If you two get much more sappy," the waitress noted as she hurried by to fill a customer's order, "I may be ill." "It's so hard to find good help," Tara said wryly. Meanwhile, in the formerly deserted mansion the Summers clan and Willow called home, the usual evening rising activities were taking place. "If you have to do that," Dawn summers complained good naturedly, "could you at least not do it in front of the fireplace where I could see you two?" "We're sorry," Willow sighed as she drank carefully from a mug of pigs blood that Giles had dropped off earlier that day. "I think I've been traumatized for life," Dawn shuddered. "We feel for your trauma," Buffy said as she got out the makings for dinner from the fridge, "but I am still not increasing your allowance." "Aww," Dawn pouted. Willow shook her head, smiling a red-tinted smile. "You two scare me at times," she noted, yawning a bit. "Coffee?" Buffy offered. "Doesn't do anything for me now," Willow admitted, "though I do still like the taste." "Just don't use the same mug," Dawn made a face, "that'd be just ewww." "Giles'll be coming over later," Buffy noted, "try not to give him too much grief, okay?" "Would I do that?" Dawn tried to look innocent. "Very easily," Buffy said, "I'm well aware of how you set the kitchen on fire." "Well, at least it was while trying to make you a cake," Willow had to point out. "True," Buffy smiled. "I thought Miss Calendar magicked the whole mess away once we got the fire out?" Dawn blinked. "I'm sort of sensitive to the whole magic thing," Willow confessed a bit shyly, "trust me, I could tell." "Damn," Dawn sighed, "there goes one way I thought I could use to get away with stuff." "You're a teenager," Buffy noted, "you'll figure out something." She smiled slightly, thinking back to all the times she had outwitted her old watcher. 'Better be careful about encouraging her,' she thought. "Buffy, dinner," Willow warned, getting up to move a saucepan off the heat. 'Guess burning food is a family thing,' she chuckled mentally,
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