Master Willow by psimetis

Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters Willow and Tara and everything Buffy the Vampire Slayer are all rights, copyrighted and trademarked, Joss Whedon, WB, Mutant Enemy, and anyone else who has a claim, but are not named. Contents of this site are a fan to fan appreciative effort and created solely for no profit or any manner of material gain, in this universe or any other existing universe.
Distribution: The Mystic Muse: /mysticmuse.net
Lair of the Wicked: /www.a-girlstudio.com/masterwillow
Feedback: If it pleases you, do :).
Spoilers: Post-Chosen.
Author's Notes: Altverse. Not Wishverse but a close resemblance.
Pairing: Willow/Tara

Summary: Willow establishes her masterdom of Sunnydale, and continues to explore her relationship with her latest possession and playmate, Tara..

CHAPTER ONE: A SATURDAY SUNNYDALE NIGHT (Where A Kitten Learns The Proper Way To Sit And Lie, And, Dru Goes Sailing)

As dusk fell upon the little town of Sunnydale, a vampire stirred. In a room of a Spanish style mansion on Crawford Street, Drusilla rose from sleep, responding instinctively to the call of night. The elder vampire found, as she dressed in yet another of her clingy, gothy gowns, that her twinkling stars were saying little tonight. Miss Edith was contentedly silent in the company of Mr. Peter. Nothing technicolor entered her inner eyes that needed watching and remembering. She was actually here, present, in the 'now', as a guru back in the 1960's once told her before she ate him. Dru did not know whether to clap with glee at this spot of sanity, which was her first impulse, or frown in concern, which was what she finally did. A period of clarity only meant one thing; she was going to be bloody bored.

And her Precious was locked up in her own games, Dru easily sensed, as she wandered down the hall past the opaque black glass of her childe's special hidey place. Honey girl was in there, with her childe. They won't be out anytime soon to spend quality time with Dru.

"Special night, special night," Dru sang as she hopped upon the stair's bannister and slid herself lazily down. Such fun, she thought, when the slide ended. Like witches on broomsticks. Thoughts of flying had Dru head for the kitchen and ransack it for a while, having remembered spotting freshly baked brownies of the possible magical sort.

"Who ate them all?" she asked the stars peevishly, finding nothing baked nor chocolate, but she did not wait for an answer from the sleeping stars. "RRrrrr," she growled. Then she saw Precious' car keys, lying upon the counter. Dru slowly smiled...wickedly.

When her head was silent, Dru could drive – while keeping within the correct lanes and not driving on sidewalks, yes, Precious had taught her sire. And about proper pedals and how to wiggle the stick, too. She had yet to be properly introduced to Precious' new black car, though, and even honey cub had been allowed to steer it before Dru. She scooped up the keys and glided out the kitchen door for the garage. Tonight, Drusilla shall sail about town in a fine black ship.

Willow was blissfully unaware of her sire's maiden launch from the mansion's garage in her beloved, vintage Impala, thanks to the delectable sight of her honey haired witch standing within her Sanctum's black glassed doors. Kitten, like a good pet, was not going to approach until the vampire beckoned. Kitten stood still and patient, hands clasped demurely behind her white, silk robed figure, and kept her quiet, blue eyed gaze upon Willow. Willow was delighted, to say the least. This was the first night where Kitten was not in the position of being the vampire's playmate, but more her plaything; the possession that obeyed her completely. She looked forward to initiating her gentle witch to the rules of her role.

"Come, Kitten," she said, her soft voice magnified in the stillness of her sanctum. Immediately, her Kitten obeyed.

Tara left the harbor of the sanctum's entrance for the huge, translucent desk Willow sat behind. The lucite-like floor, she realized, was subtly warm to her bare feet. The temperature of the pentagonal shaped room, despite the ice like appearance of its white walls and illuminating crystals, was comfortably warm for the little she was wearing. Tara thought that rooms with computers were meant to be cold, for the machines' sake, but apparently Willow did not deem so for the few, ice colored components that occupied her desk. If the temperature of the room was a concession to her human presence, Tara was silently grateful. She stopped before Willow and dropped her eyes shyly.

"Kitten, look up," Willow instructed softly as one of her cool hands touched her witch's chin to emphasize her words. "Your eyes are important to me, I don't need their subservience. You should never have to lower them unless we were participating in proper vampire society, and I really hope," Willow snorted. "To never have to do that, if I can help it."

Tara, knowing this was not the time to express curiosity, easily held her tongue. The first rule of the sanctum was that she could not make a sound until the vampire gave permission. Tara will have to remember to ask Willow about her remark, at another time. She gazed directly into Willow's eyes as the vampire desired.

"Never lower your eyes, even to Angel-dad," Willow continued, appreciating her Kitten's steady, gentle regard. "He may be patriarch and my grandsire, but Willow is only who you respond to. Willow is only who you obey," she added softly, a slight smile curving her mouth.

Willow grinned and leaned back in her chair. She assessed Kitten's appearance and the manner of her quiet stance. Yes, she liked that, her witch's hands by her sides; there was no need for them to be clasped before or behind her.

"When standing, always keep your hands at your sides," Willow instructed. "It shows capability and readiness."

Tara was surprised, and tried to keep the perplexed frown from her face. This was so different from how she thought a pet should behave. The vampire saw her confusion.

"Kitten, perfectly docile slaves show how effectively a vampire can break a human, but that gets boring, very fast," Willow gently explained in her characteristic, soft girl tones. "I want a proud, strong pet," she added with a small grin. "To have the obedience of a Pet like that...it's more fun that way."

She ran a finger down one of her witch's silk clad arms and touched the wrist that wore the silver slave bracelet. Her fingers played with the elegant band of metal.

"And you are not a masochist," Willow added softly. "Which means you will not find aspects of your role...gratifying. I will be making you submit to my will in many different ways. I needn't demand something as superficial as the supposed, properly submissive way to present yourself in my Sanctum to me." And, Willow added to herself, it is your confidence that I adore. Kitten still had insecurities and hid behind her shyness, but her womanly confidence, which the vampire had been luckily privy to, was what strongly attracted her to her witch. To continue to have that knowing woman within Kitten submit willingly to the vampire gave Willow endless, anticipatory thrills.

"Now," she said with a smile. "Let's go over how you are to enter and then come to me."

Kendra kept her senses open and receptive for the slightest hint of vampire presence or even mystical activity. A Saturday night with humans out in force was the perfect set-up for luring vampires on the prowl. Her preternaturally strong and agile body at the ready, the Jamaican born Slayer made her watchful way around the evening pedestrians of Sunnydale's small downtown area.

She was this town's protector, and every night since her arrival, she performed her duty to the best of her ability. Buffy had called her a 'good policewoman', but she had been typically flippant about the observation. Kendra saw it as a compliment. That was what the Slayer did; kept the streets clean and safe of evil. She wondered why Buffy was always challenging the second Slayer's – as the blonde girl would call it – 'by the Slayer's handbook' attitude. It only forced Kendra to challenge the incapacitated Slayer for her 'rebel Slayer' attitude. Buffy was currently partially paralyzed and Kendra didn't like arguing with a sister Slayer while she was down, but the other girl persisted in criticizing how Kendra conducted herself. For one thing, what could Buffy possibly mean by telling her to 'think outside of the box'? What box?

Kendra shook her head of thoughts of her bed ridden, and possibly cranky predecessor and tried to keep her attention to her patrol. She saw nothing wrong with how she conducted herself as the Slayer. She was trained for this from birth, and performed to the letter in all that she had been taught. All she needed was more experience – accrue a war record like Buffy has. Then her current Watcher, Mr. Giles, might finally let her face the vampire Willow, who she considered the current most dangerous threat to her and Sunnydale.

While she mused on the problem of Willow, Kendra felt the tingling sensation alerting her to vampiric presence. She whirled, stake in hand, and sought the presence out. Seeing nothing that said 'vampire' among the pedestrians who gave her curious looks, Kendra cast her searching gaze out on the street. There, in a sleek, black, vintage convertible sat her targeted vampire, stuck in cruising traffic. Drusilla.

The slim, dark haired vampire in the driver's seat was sporting smoked shades and an annoyingly regal, self congratulatory smile. She inched the convertible along with the rest of the waiting cars, and playfully hit her horn. Some passerby gave her vehicle an appreciative whistle and shout. The vampire merely waved a languid hand to them. Then she turned and with a taunting grin, deliberately waved to Kendra.

Stake ready in her hand, the surprised Slayer realized she was at a lost as to what to do. It was an open street, full of witnesses. Yet she could not let the vampire get away, especially not this one – the dreaded Drusilla, one fourth of the notorious Scourge and sire to Willow. She had a sudden thought: what would Buffy do?

Kendra hid her stake and strolled purposefully to the black convertible as the vampire looked at her with raised eyebrows. With a leap, the Slayer brazenly mounted the back seat and sat upon its top, directly behind Drusilla.

"You'll not mind it when you are dust," Kendra announced, keeping a hand in her jacket and her booted feet firmly planted on the cream colored seats.

The vampire turned back to the wheel and inched the car along, murmuring angrily to herself about 'smelly things'. Kendra sighed, though the action did not lessen her intense demeanor. The young woman decided that as soon as the car moved out of this well populated street, she will dust the vampire.

Drusilla surprised her then, by turning her head slowly to regard the Slayer in a most devious manner. Kendra knew from the Watchers' diaries that this mad vampiress had psychic powers – that it was possible she could read minds. The dark vampire's next words attested to that fact.

"And wot will you do then?" the vampiress drawled, watching Kendra over her dark glasses with mischievous, knowing eyes. "How shall you handle my Precious?"

Kendra stilled on the backseat. Several possibilities of what Willow's grief stricken reaction would be to the dusting of her sire came to mind, none of them seeing the second Slayer and her people surviving the sorcerer vampire's wrath. Kendra's arched brows and generous mouth drew into a displeased scowl just as Drusilla's elfin features grew into a wicked smile.

"Know dis," the Slayer threatened, leaning in to the vampire. "Kendra'll be watchin' you." Then the young woman leapt off the back seat for the street, and strolled purposefully away.

"Come, Kitten," Willow murmured, and Tara rose obediently from her seat on the white chaise lounge and approached Willow's desk. As the vampire had instructed her before, the blonde witch took a seat on her master's lap.

"Hmm," Willow hummed, as Kitten slid naturally into her lap sideways, silk clad arms falling to drape around her neck. Personally, Willow liked the position very much, it was so endearing, and gave her a lovely view of Kitten's warm chest, but loving affection wasn't exactly the image she wanted to project.

"Puppy, direct cameras on me. Initiate phantom imaging," Willow commanded. "Puppy is my computer," she explained with a smile to Kitten, as her witch looked down at her inquisitively. "Look there," she indicated softly, and Kitten turned her head to follow Willow's gesture. The vampire grinned, hearing Kitten's sudden intake of breath.

Before the desk were actual full sized duplicates of Tara and Willow, just as they currently were, with the witch seated sideways in the vampire's lap. It was a remarkably seamless, flawless conjure. The solid likenesses of both she and the vampire looked 'real', no less alive than their, well, real selves. Tara marveled at the illusion, which seemed like one of those fantastic projection tricks seen only in sci-fi television shows. What amazed her further was that Willow's own likeness, despite her vampire state, was somehow captured and projected as well.

"Advanced imaging technology and magicks," Willow whispered. She decided not to mention to Kitten that she had certain technopagans help her develop the technology, as those technopagans were currently, and very conveniently dead. Willow felt that it was in her best interest that she hold the secret and monopoly, of this technology, for now. "For the first time in nineteen years, I can see myself, Kitten. I'm a cutie, aren't I."

Kitten smiled down at her, and Willow felt the warm embrace of her arms around her neck. Yes, Kitten certainly agreed.

"Face front, Kitten," Willow instructed, and as her witch complied, her warm back pressed against her, Willow watched their projected selves. She liked this position; the young woman in her lap now looked more like her possession, easily held in her arms. She gathered Kitten's golden mass of hair and flipped it over to one side, baring her witch's neck to her easy scrutiny. She pulled Kitten's sash, loosening the robe, then slowly edged the silky, white material off Kitten's pale shoulders. As the material inched down, the soft fleshy curves of milk white breasts emerged. Willow stared at their phantom mimics, and watched herself slowly reveal Kitten's breasts. She pulled the material further, until it slipped over her Kitten's nipples, unveiling the beautiful, erect peaks. The vampire's hands fell to rest upon Kitten's arms, where the fabric had also come to rest, and studied their image a while.

"I'm ill prepared to house a young woman," Giles admitted to Joyce, as they sat at an outdoor sidewalk table of the Espresso Pump. The night was pleasantly mild, and thankfully he and Joyce could get a table, even on a busy Saturday night. Since the demise of the Master and the fragmentation of his iron rule over the town's nights, its human citizens had taken wholeheartedly to their after dusk hours. "And I must admit, I would like Kendra to have something more than just my Watcher's guidance to influence her."

"She is a bit like a child soldier, isn't she," Joyce observed with a wide eyed look and smile as she sipped her coffee.

"Her parents did give her up as an infant, when they realized her calling," Giles added, working the spoon in his tea. "She has known nothing but the Slayer's life. Perhaps...perhaps a different lifestyle experience, L-L-Like how students are exchanged so that they might live in other households – "

Giles was visibly relieved. He relaxed and finally sipped his tea. "She arrived in town with only the clothes on her back and a trusty stake. Taking her to the mall for clothes shopping and other, er, necessities was an interesting experience to say the least."

"Dawn's going to be quite an influence on her then," Joyce wryly noted. "And when Buffy comes home, I think it would be good for her to have someone to..." and then Buffy's mother sighed, her intelligent eyes pensive. "Someone to talk Slayer's business with."

"Her back will be perfectly healed in another week or so, she's impressing the doctors once again," Joyce said, in that way where a mother could say something with pride, anxious concern, and bemusement all in one reflection about her child. "But the paralysis is still there, and, it looks to be...something we're going to have to get used to. For a while." She accepted Rupert's comforting pat on her hand with a sad smile. She then took a deep breath, and looked out upon the lit and cheery street, with its strolling passerby.

"I would never wish such a thing to happen to her," she continued, slightly pained. "Never. But it's like I have my daughter back, now that Kendra's been called. It's just that, despite she and I always hoping she'd have a normal life, the," Joyce gestured with some frustration. "Desire to be the Slayer is still there. She can't stop asking about it, wondering what Kendra is doing, strategizing in her bed..."

"To be the Slayer is in the blood," Giles commented pensively. "She can no more readjust herself right now than readjust...how she breathes."

"I feel," Joyce continued. "Like my baby girl got drafted and sent to war, learning how to be the best sniper there ever was and kill the enemy. Then my darling gets her legs blown off, but when she comes home, she can't help but sense that her work is unfinished, like her," she pantomimes 'writing' with her hands. "That diary they keep," Joyce attempted.

Giles thought only a moment. "Kill book," he clarified decisively. A gruesome analogy on Joyce's part, and he had to wonder how she knew of such a thing, sniper kill books, but it was apt.

"Kill book," Joyce agreed with a nod. "Like her kill book has one more unfinished job." Joyce sighed heavily again, leaning back in her chair. "I can't believe I'm talking about my daughter like this," she murmured to herself. But it was helpful for her, to talk frankly with Rupert. Buffy was a killer after all, and it wasn't like Joyce could go to other PTA mothers and talk about how one can help reform one's daughter from the supernatural warrior life.

"Buffy feels responsible," Joyce affirmed. "Almost to the point where she doesn't want Kendra to handle it. I can almost understand why. It's like Xander all over again." Both she and the Watcher fell silent and sipped their respective hot beverages, thinking of the one time best friend turned vampire, whom Buffy, in the end, staked herself.

"I think," Giles finally chose to say carefully. "That Tara is....proving an effective distraction to the vampire Willow, for the time being."

Joyce had to give a slight shake of her head as she smiled ruefully at the pathetic irony of their situation. "The next big evil to come to Sunnydale, we'll just offer one of our finest comely maidens," she suggested flippantly. "Situation solved." And Giles had to look down at his tea cup and grin.

"Yes, an ad in the paper for such maidens would be quite helpful, wouldn't it. Good lord," the Watcher then added in quiet astonishment, when he looked up and happen to glance towards the street. There, sailing slowly pass in the shiny, black, vintage convertible Tara had said belonged to Willow, was the dark haired vampiress, Drusilla. She waved regally to the Watcher and to Joyce, much in the style of the Queen in her royal carriage.

"That's a Chevy, isn't it?" Joyce said in admiration. "1960's. Do you know the driver?"

"Yes," Giles said distractedly, catching the last of Drusilla's toothy smile as she sailed by. "And supposedly she's insane."

Tara automatically placed her hands over the vampire's arm when it wrapped around her middle, and then braced her bare legs outside the vampire's, as Willow instructed. Willow's lap was not large, but Tara was in no danger of sliding off. She'd never had the opportunity to sit in a girlfriend's lap before, she realized, and she was enjoying the comfort of Willow's. To be held thus was like a perfect fit between them that created a place of contentment...of safety. Tara's hands wanted to caress Willow's arm around her waist, in enjoyment of that fact, but she stilled that desire. The vampire swiveled the chair then, and viewed their sideways position in their images' mirrored action.

"Perfect," she murmured again, watching how her Kitten's golden head turned unselfconsciously to face front, hair cascading. Seated straight in her lap, flush against Willow's chest, Kitten's posture thrust her bared breasts out slightly. It created bountiful, proud outlines against the gathered white silk underneath. It was a beautiful, erotic profile.

"Remember this seated position, Kitten," Willow instructed softly. "This is how I want you to come to me when I beckon. Although the positioning of your robe," Willow then grinned, the expression mirrored in the simulated double Tara watched. "Is something I will personally take care of when you're in my lap. Now, keep looking front, like you are....yes, that's it." Willow then placed both arms around her Kitten, turning her head to look front as well. She let her pert mouth edge into that subtle smirk so characteristic of her. "Puppy, take our picture," she ordered her computer.

Tara heard no click, but something lit briefly on the translucent desk, and then there was the subtle whirring sound of...perhaps a printer? Willow swiveled the chair, and reached for a paper being printed out from a small machine. It was a color photo. Tara's hands involuntarily squeezed the vampire's arm in her silent excitement. A picture. An actual picture of Willow.

"See? Pretty Kitty. And my first photo in years," Willow exclaimed, holding the paper up. Her vampire was – oh, how confident, how beautiful she looked, with her gently lidded eyes and that small, mysterious smile so uniquely hers. Tara wanted the photo. Except, she realized to her private chagrin, perhaps without Tara herself sitting half naked and seemingly wanton upon the vampire's lap.

Willow laughed as she felt the heat of Kitten's blush. All her modest witch could probably see in the photo were her bared breasts, but to Willow, Kitten's half closed, luminous blue eyed gaze and the trusting openness of her position on the vampire's lap made such a gorgeous, sensual picture.

"That's what we are going to work on, tonight," Willow stated softly, as she dropped the photo on her desk and then ran a finger along her witch's heated cheek. "Your confidence. The signs of your body, your scent, your heartbeat," Willow indicated, with a gentle hand over Kitten's chest area. "Are signals to others of your emotional state. If, for example, I am speaking to someone, and you are here, in my lap, but that someone happens to be a very scary someone? When you become scared, what do you think that tells the scary someone I'm speaking to?"

Willow's voice was very gentle near Tara's ear as she demonstrated with the wave of her hand, the dissipation of their own solid doubles and their replacement with an unnervingly realistic, towering, ferocious faced beast. Tara could not help looking up into its frightening, red eyed visage. It opened its cavernous mouth and displayed hungry, dripping fangs.

"Let's say I'm having a polite conversation with that," Willow further illustrated, as she felt Kitten tense in her arms. "What will your fear say to it? How would your fear reflect on your Master?"

Kitten, with some effort, began to relax again into her arms. The hulking, black thing moved with feral grace to sit in one of the chairs facing the desk. The chair creaked dangerously under its illusionary weight.

"Good Kitty," Willow whispered, emphasizing her praise with a little squeeze. "When you are with Willow, you fear nothing. They are nothing, for Willow is the only power here. Willow is the one in control. Your Master is the only one you need fear. And you will reflect that power, that knowledge, to others, won't you, Kitten."

Tara nodded slowly, signifying her understanding. The beast parted its fanged mouth again to snarl silently at her. She began to feel calm; Willow would protect her. Willow's soft kiss blessed her bare shoulder, and then the beast disappeared from the chair. The Sanctum was empty once again.

"A proud Pet reflects the power of her Master," Willow said softly behind her. "Let's begin. Come in, Angel-dad!" Willow suddenly sang out.

The opaque black glass of the Sanctum's doors swished open, and the formidable figure of Angel walked in, his handsome, broad face darkened by his usual, broody demeanor. Tara stiffened in alarm in Willow's embrace, acutely aware of her own half nude state. She blushed hotly and her heart jumped to a mile a minute. She wanted to run away.

Larry had finished off his microwave burritos long ago, and his Big Gulp was down to fizzy ice. He slurped it anyway, watching traffic pass by Oz's van as they sat parked at the local am/pm market. The van's back doors were open, and he and Oz were hanging out on the back side. Devon was inside, making out with some chick, of course. As Oz fingered his guitar, gently working on chords, Sunnydale High's most valued football player actually had a moment to reflect on his life.

Sunnydale's football team was in shambles, thanks to one third of the players having 'disappeared' – or moved away. Not to mention that the lead cheerleader, Cordelia, and a couple of her Cordettes had gotten eaten by vamps. Larry's high school life was pretty much at a standstill. No wonder when he crushed on Xander, he ended up joining the White Hats. When Xander came out with his relationship with Cordy though, it was easy for Larry to work out his frustrated testosterone on the undead community.

He glanced at Oz, as the wolf boy fingered his strings. Yeah, him and Oz, joining the White Hats because of the people they crushed on. Him over Xander, Oz over Willow. And then Xand and Will went and died. Taking out the Master responsible for their deaths, he thought, should've helped closed the book on...something. Like given them permission to get on with life. Someone should've told him it wouldn't be easy, because here he was, Saturday night, just hanging with his straight friends when he could be at the local gay scene. Yeah, right. His thoughts drifted to Xander again. And especially to sexy vamp Xander. Crap.

"Wonder what Kendra's up to," Larry decided to comment, shifting his big frame on the van's edge. "She hasn't let us help with patrol except that one time."

Oz took one of his ponderous, long moments before giving an acknowledgment. What went on in the red haired young man's mind, no one knew, thanks to his stoic nature, but it was assumed it was pretty significant thinking. "Yeah," he finally said, as if it were a very wise thing Larry had noted, and adjusted a strut on his guitar.

"And Giles," Larry said, shifting again. "We haven't had a Scooby meeting for a while. It's like he hasn't got the 411 on what's going on in this town."

Oz played a chord, his face thoughtful, but whether he was reflecting on Larry's words or on his chord, only Oz would know. "Yeah," the small, red haired young man finally commented.

Larry opened his mouth to say something again, then shut it. He was almost going to suggest that he should start his own patrol. Especially when he was having Vamp Xander thoughts and maybe needed to work off those thoughts. Then he realized, wait a minute, chance at an ordinary life here again. Why should he patrol? Things were quiet, there was Kendra, and him and Oz could go back to being...whatever's left of Sunnydale High's student life.

"Y'know, Kendra's a fox," he suddenly commented, which actually surprised the bass player, because Oz then stopped playing to raise a reddish eyebrow at Larry's statement.

"Yeah," Larry continued, finally feeling upbeat about something. "You should go out with her, man."

"Who's this?" they heard Devon call from deep inside the van. "Devuuuun," came a girl's voice as well, kind of whiny. Being lead singer of the Dingoes, Devon was often scoring with some groupie.

"Think about it though," Larry said, with his characteristic broad grin. Life had been pretty down for both of them. Xand and Will dying, Cordy too – Amy was a frickin' rat and Buffy was going to be paralyzed. Oz and Kendra, that would be –

Oz stopped playing just to stare a moment at the football player, his regard stoic and expressionless. "Yeah, she's pretty hot," he finally decided to allow. He was rewarded with an even bigger grin from Larry, and went back to focusing on his strings again. Kendra wasn't Willow though, Oz thought soberly to himself. No one really, was like Willow.

Oz glanced up, catching sight of the sleek black convertible that his friends were trying to i.d. His werewolf senses heightened in alarm, and he realized what he was looking at, as he stared at the dark haired female in the driver's seat. Vampire.

"'63," Oz stated, as the car accelerated to the beckoning of a green light. He stood up, clutching his guitar to himself, and watched the car drive away. "It's a '63," he finally said, and read the license plate with his nocturnal wolf's sight.

Tara had known humiliation. All her life, shame had been her friend. Taunts and ridicule for the mouse of a girl that she was, and for the rumored witch others feared her to be – and then for her peers to finally realize that Tara might be 'queer' – all these things had hurt her. But nothing had hurt more than to have been made to feel less just for being a young woman. Nothing felt more shameful than to have to go to school with the bruises and black eye Donny had given her, and have her terse, cold father sternly judge that she had 'deserved it'. To be on display now, as she was on Willow's lap was another form of painful judgment and she did not want to look up and see that in the eyes of Angel.

But then Tara heard that familiar, feminine growl behind her – this time dark, threatening, warning – and Tara remembered that the condemnation of others was not what she should worry about. Look up! Look up! Look up!! her self preserving side ordered her. Be Brave, Tara!

So Tara sought and drew around her, the vulnerable strength that was her feminine resolve, and bravely raised her blue eyes to Angel.

Angel said nothing. He had taken a seat before the desk, his large frame at easy rest. His dark brown eyes were contemplative, as if he were silently choosing words carefully. He merely watched Tara, and slowly brought his hands up to pensively steeple them before his lips. Tara felt herself raise her chin in response, an action not so much defiant as silently unapologetic. She had never expressed herself so to a man in her family before, had never looked them in the eye and shown them her boldness. To show that only begged for retaliation and punishment. To do so now to Willow's own grandsire made her heart pound.

"Who has the power here, Kitten?" she heard Willow gently breath in her ear. "You are everything he can't have, touch, kiss, caress, possess..." Willow's soft tones fluttered against her skin. "What kind of man is that, who can't have you? A nothing man. Nothing he says, nothing he does, can ever matter to you. How can it? When you already know: you are Tara, you are beautiful...sensual...desirable, brave, strong. You are everything," and here, Willow could not resist, she licked her Kitten. "Everything an evil thing could desire to own. Yet you belong to no one, no one but me. You are my Kitten," she whispered. "You are my inviolate one."

She heard her witch's heart calm at the mesmerizing flow of her words. She witnessed the quiet mantle of confidence and self knowing within her Kitten rise and settle upon her body, displacing the scents of insecurity and fear. Kitten was hers, and her own self's, and now Kitten's deep blue eyes let Angel know.

Tara had finally sensed, when Willow's words had calmed her, that Angel was not really Angel, but one of the redhead vampire's remarkably convincing conjured manifestations. The sanctum was so full of magical vibrations, it was hard to distinguish the mimic's mystical signature from the rest. She had to rely on her own modest gift of the Sight to finally realize that Angel had no aura at all. Even with that knowledge, it was still difficult not to react to the physical manifestation of the vampire as the true Angel. Willow's words had been rendered no less effective. The man before her had no real power over her. All that mattered was herself and her master. Her master, who now giggled softly behind her.

"Finally guessed, Kitten?" Willow smiled as she raised a hand to caress the blonde witch's hair. The Angel shape rose from the chair then, and to Tara's quiet alarm, leaned upon the desk to look upon her closely. Inviolate, Willow may have stated her to be, but she wasn't yet used to having her personal space threatened. The phantom raised a hand to touch her, and though Tara flinched slightly back into Willow from his nearing fingers, the hand passed harmlessly through her cheek, like air.

"I'm working still on projecting more solid conjures," Willow casually spoke behind her, as she continued to slowly pet her witch's hair. The Angel shape took an easy seat on the desk and watched the idle tracing of his fingers above Tara's face, as if he too, wished to add his caresses. "My machines are powerful, but it would require even more power to create something that can affect us physically. Wouldn't that be kinky, Kitten?" Willow suddenly thought, smirking as she wrinkled her nose at the thought. When her Kitten actually shuddered in her lap, as Angel-dad's phantom hand passed through Kitten's breast, Willow realized, hrm...no.

"You're right, Kitten," Willow agreed, though her witch had said nothing, but instead anxiously pressed back her warmth into Willow again when Angel-dad's large hand traced a finger near an erect nipple. "That would be creepy. And I have better things to focus on than enhancing phantoms." She went back to happily petting her Kitten, this time finding her hand competing with the phantom's as they both reached for her witch's hair.

"Bye bye, Angel-dad!" Willow imparted, and the Angel apparition faded immediately from view. She felt her Kitten relax in her lap with a quiet, deeply relieved sigh.

"Still comfty, Kitten?" Willow inquired softly. Her witch nodded. "Remember what I told you before Angel-dad came into the room?" She liked it that Kitten took a moment before silently answering, as if she were carefully recalling what the vampire had told her. When her Kitten finally nodded, Willow smiled, pleased.

And come in, they did. Though Tara now knew that each visitor who entered through the sanctum's doors was a conjured phantom, it was still as convincingly believable as the real thing. She found herself reacting to them as if they were the people they represented, especially when Willow willed them to talk.

"Hey Wills," the Buffy shape said when she sauntered in, confident and radiant in her golden girl energy, and flopped herself carelessly in the seat before them. Tara found herself responding positively to seeing a healthy, walking Buffy once again, but reigned her emotions in. She was meant to be 'Kitten', the plaything who sat in Willow's lap and accepted her master's intimate caresses, like the one that currently trailed a cool hand possessively up and down her bared thigh. Tara focused on maintaining a calm heartbeat and an unwavering gaze. Her self-awareness finally gave up on all modesty and allowed herself a growing acceptance in her partial nakedness. More and more, she felt trust flower and take hold for the slender, strong body behind her, a body who held her safely even as Willow bantered with her apparitions. Tara had nothing to fear.

Before the Buffy shape disappeared, she rose and moved around the desk, approaching Tara. The phantom kiss upon her lips took the blonde witch by complete surprise.

Visitor after visitor entered, alternating from humans to intimidating demons, and Tara worked on the demeanor she was meant to portray. By the time a tall, dark haired, handsome young man entered, openly leering at her in a sinisterly predatory manner, Tara was feeling, not so much indifference, but a calm that was becoming more and more at home within her. The young man in the velvet shirt and black leather pants practically prowled to the seat before the desk, never taking his dark browed, appreciative gaze off the blonde witch.

Tara ended up enduring some of the most predatory stares of her face and body that she had ever been forced to acknowledge. When the vampire Xander finally rose from his chair, Tara was not surprised when he leaned in to possessively press phantom lips to her as well.

Willow was quite pleased. So far, Kitten was doing very well during this practice session of phantom guests. She did wonder though, what could break her Kitten's newfound resolve, because to discover that weakness would mean being able to work on overcoming it sooner. Willow wanted her witch trained and ready before the week ended, especially for what was to come, once Harmony and her boys began making their impact on the demon community.

When the sanctum doors opened again, Willow suddenly discovered what that weakness was. Kitten practically jumped in her lap, stiffening. Her witch blushed and her eyes quickly dropped. All things she was not supposed to do.

"Kitten," Willow growled, a little incensed at this insubordination, despite her expecting it, at some point. "Giles, take a seat, please," she continued in a normal voice, all the while marking how her witch's heart had begun to pound and her breaths increase. Kitten still would not look up.

"I apologize, Giles, Kitten knows this is not the way she should behave," Willow explained, emphasizing her last words warningly to her witch. She felt Kitten's hands desperately clutch the arm Willow held around her waist, but still her witch would not look up. Her breaths were frantic now.

"Kitten," Willow admonished quietly, and this time her soft tone was deadly. At the chastisement, Kitten struggled to raise her eyes. Trembling, she dropped them again, and whimpered.

The sound Kitten made broke the first rule of Willow's Sanctum, and the vampire realized the game was done. Kitten was never to make a sound unless Willow allowed it. Her Kitten was right now, on the very brink of tears.

"Giles, leave now," Willow instructed, and the phantom disappeared. She took a hold of one of her Kitten's trembling legs and easily slid her into a sideways position upon her lap. She felt the splash of a warm tear upon her skin.

If Willow had intended further chastisement, the desire fled at feeling that tiny wetness of her Kitten's deep personal shame and dismay. Willow, to her personal surprise, found it easy to quickly decide: no punishment for her witch this time.

"Shhh, Kitten, it's all right," Willow soothed, and gently lowered her Kitten's head down into the crook of her neck. "Willow's not mad. Willow's not mad at her baby." She pulled up the dressing gown over her witch's shoulders, covering her up. "You're just tired, that's all. That's alot of people to meet. And with Giles," she continued thoughtfully. "I guess your reaction's to be expected." Something had occurred to Willow, and she decided to run with it.

"Fathers shouldn't see their daughters naked, should they, Kitten," Willow said softly to her girl. When the young woman in her arms only buried her face further into her neck, Willow knew she had guessed right.

Bingo. Not surprising, since Willow, when she had been human, had thought of Giles in that way as well. The tall, capable man in comforting, tweed jackets and the soothing scent of after shave spice was an attractive man in his own right, but he was still very much the trusting father figure to the young women in his life. This was something she couldn't train out of her shy Kitty. Not without causing more tears.

Willow wrapped her slender arms further around her Kitten, and swiveled the chair slowly from side to side in a soothing imitation of a rocking motion. Really, as Spike would derisively say if he could see her now, she had become quite the nancy boy. But Willow didn't mind the slur upon her evil self; she had developed, over the years, a soft spot for her kittens, and her beautiful witch had become her most special one.

"Hey," she said softly. "Want to see something neat?" She was rewarded with wet blue eyes looking tentatively up into hers. Willow turned her attention to her desk and mystically gestured. Tara moved her head slightly against the vampire's neck and saw a small translucent tray emerge from the side. It carried tiny test tubes, each one filled with a smokey liquid in which was suspended a single drop of blood.

"This is my tracking device," Willow explained gently to her. "Blood from each who belongs to my House. I've yet to add you, Kitten, or Angel-dad, for that matter. It would be nice to see what my poofy grandpappy is up to around town." Willow then made a slow pass in the air, and a large, phantom map shimmered into view before the desk. It was transparent but for the faintly glowing lines that indicated streets and the edges of town. It was an impressive map of Sunnydale.

"See the little red lights?" Willow pointed out to her Kitten. Her witch raised her head in curiosity. The vampire smiled slightly to herself, realizing that Kitten's upset was now forgotten. "This one's me – hello, me! – here at the mansion. That cluster over there, near the docks, is Harm and her boys, committing unholy terror in my name," Willow grinned. "And that one's..."

Willow stared, not sure if she was seeing what she was seeing correctly. Kitten sat up in her lap, concerned at the vampire's sudden disbelief.

"That one's...Sire's," Willow finally said, still pointing at a dot that was moving merrily along. "How come she's moving so fast?" Willow finally blurted.

Harm was having a freakin' good time. Violence was just the natural spice of vampire unlife, she decided. Eat, kill, make sure the kids were happy – done perfectly in that order, the fulfillment of such simple, violent requirements made for perfect vampire nights. Oh, all that, and a pile o' violent sex too. Harm was going to have to shake those 'Harm in the middle of a manwich' thoughts and get down to the business at hand.

She watched another minion fall screaming to Barry's vicious machete, her boy having gone for the poor fuck's legs – or now, lack of them. Ken and Troy were dragging the 'master' of this little nest of 'pires to where she stood. Shawn, she could sense, was prowling the warehouse floor's perimeters, cleaning up loose ends. Her little warrior was so efficient like that.

"Y'know," Harm said to the 'master' struggling in the grip of her boys. She was practicing her 'pensive' face. She was pretty certain it made her look smart assed like those mastermind, chick villains. "I should've prepared something to say for your destruction, something like, maybe a cool quote from the book of Jake or some bible shit." Here, Ken and Troy rolled their eyes, having gotten used to their sire's rambling speech to the doomed after the first night of making mayhem for their Master. "Something philosophical to send you on your fucked way to hell. But that's not going to happen because I didn't brush up on my book of Jake. So all I can say is: too bad your loser ass had to be in the same town as Willow the Wicked, you dumb fuck."

Harmony then stepped forward and raked a fingernail along the male vampire's cheek, drawing blood. As the 'master' hissed his outrage at her, the blond vampire tasted the blood on her finger carefully. Yep, the guy was definitely older than she was, by a couple of years. Maybe a decade. Good enough for her kids.

"Eat him," she said, and Ken and Troy immediately sank their fangs into the male vampire within their grasp, literally sucking his power and unlife from him.

Harm heard the poof and felt dust fall even as she turned to where she sensed Shawn's stoic presence at the warehouse entrance. He held a trembling, slip of a vampire girl in one iron grip.

"This our witness?" she said cheerfully. A baby fledge if ever she saw one. Maybe only a few days old. She won't last a week without her master. "You," she indicated, pointing imperiously at the little chick. Harm was full throttle 'Master Harm', tonight. "Are going to spread the word of what you saw here, got it?" The skinny thing just nodded frantically. "You don't do what I say, and like, try to skip town tonight or some stupid shit, we'll find you and eat you, got it?" The girl nodded her head like she was trying to make it fall off. Shit, she had big eyes. It kinda reminded Harm of Wills, back when her boss was human. "Okay, scram."

When the girl vampire had fled through the warehouse entrance, Harm sighed in Shawn's direction. "She doesn't look old enough to even know how to hunt," she complained. "The Slayer'll probably stake her before sunrise."

"I can keep an eye on her," Shawn suggested, his face expressionless. "Until she does her job," he added, when his sire just looked at him.

Shawn left with his brothers' catcalls and taunts following him. Harm just grinned.

"Bar'!" she snapped, as she pulled a folded paper and a pen out from her jean's back pocket. Her boy Barry bent over before her quickly, giving her the broad surface of his muscled back. Harm laid the paper out and carefully crossed out a name from the list.

"Okay, next guy has only ten of his own, if they're still hanging out at his lair," Harm informed out loud, as she reviewed her paper's information. "Without Shawn, let's do this one with minimal kick ass-age."

"Okay, let's do it," Harm ordered, and slapped Barry on his firm ass for good measure.

Once out on the street, in the cool air that smelled slightly of salty ocean from the nearby docks and the wet of concrete and wood, Harm determinedly led her little band of boys to their next scene of mayhem. Her long handled ax in hand, Harm did a mental tick off of her simple 'essentials' list; got the boys fed tonight, check. Got them a round of killing, check. Made sure they were happy –

Harm could hear Barry, taking up the rear, whistling that 'hi ho, hi ho' disney tune.

Yeah, check. And Shawn was finally going to get laid tonight with something that wasn't her or one of his brothers – and which kinda looked like their waify Master. She knew her boy Shawn was crushing on Wills. Harm could not help grinning evilly.

"Hold up!" she suddenly snapped sharply, interrupting Barry's whistle fest. As she held up a hand in warning, she opened her senses to the elder, vampiric presence that had buzzed her 'pire radar. Whoever it was was really old. Angel? Fuck. No wait....

"Okay, look alive you dead shits!" she then barked, resuming their purposeful trek down the street. She heard the low, throaty purr of a powerful engine slowly approach behind them. The lights from the car lit up their location. "The Master's Sire is coming this way!"

Master Willow's vintage black Impala came into view and slowed easily to match the walking speed of Harm and her boys. Feeling the elder vampire cruising beside them, Harm turned her head to look at Will's sire. Drusilla merely looked at her cooly, her eyes covered by the dark shades she wore. The vampiress then raised a hand to her forehead in what appeared to be a mock salute. Harm shouldered her ax.

Hey, when in Rome, do like the Romeos. Harm put on her 'super serious' face, and gave the wacko her best girl scout's salute.

Hearing the rustle of her boys behind her, she felt them snapping to walking attention and giving their own salutes as well.

Drusilla grinned maniacally. She finished off her salute with a flourish. Like a commodore having just viewed her royal fleet, Dru accelerated the Impala and regally sailed away.

Willow's eyes got big and distressed. First, she thought Mummy had gotten herself kidnapped. Then she chanted a spell that revealed her Sire's previous whereabouts. The meandering line that originated from the mansion and wove in and out of Sunnydale's streets pointed to only one conclusion: Mum had Willow's beautiful car!!

Willow had visions then, of her precious Impala taking an elegant header into the ocean, as she watched Sire's little red dot wind leisurely near the docks. She didn't so much worry about Mummy becoming fish food; at least her Sire could swim. But what if Mum decided to drive into a brick building instead? Willow made desperate, unhappy sounds as scenario after scenario of her vintage classic going up in flames flitted through her head.

As Willow fretted, wide eyes watching the Sunnydale phantom map, Tara was unsure what to do. She was still not given permission to speak, else she would try to verbally soothe her vampire's worry. Having also watched Dru's uneventful progression around the map, Tara had personal faith the elder vampire would make it safely home. Dru, despite being mad, was not a truly self-destructive type. Certainly if the elder vampiress could survive her lost years in dimensional travel with her childe, she could survive a drive through Sunnydale's streets.

Tara began to kiss Willow softly about her face, her hands coming up to gently cradle the slender outlines. She kissed slowly and attentively. When Willow caught her mouth to give her a hungry kiss in return, the young woman knew she had partially succeeded in distracting her vampire. When Willow's hungry kiss became several, Tara realized she had more than succeeded.

Willow finally sighed against the young woman's mouth, and smirked. Tara smiled in response.

"Turn and face me, Kitten," Willow murmured. Tara immediately lifted herself from the vampire's lap to comply. Willow's chair had a generous seat, with arm rests that easily bent further away to accommodate Tara's now straddling form over Willow's lap. The vampire reclined the chair back a bit and slid herself further down. Tara sensed the Sunnydale phantom map blip from existence behind her. The adventuring Dru and the collectible, vintage vehicle she was tooling happily around town in were a concern now set aside for more immediate, sensual matters.

"Pretty Kitty," Willow breathed, as her appreciative eyes wandered from Kitten's face and frame of hanging gold hair, to the silk covered breasts that swayed just out of eyesight. Willow caressed both warm hands that rested on the chair back behind her head, then pulled on the sash of Kitten's robe. She tugged on the silk sleeves and forced them to fall once more from Kitten's shoulders, revealing her beautiful chest. Willow took up both deliciously warm, soft weights of breast in her hands and put a nipple in her mouth.

Kitten was being very good; her hot breaths came raggedly above her, and Willow could hear her brave attempts at swallowing the pleasured sounds that wanted to leave her throat. Willow sucked, and licked, and tenderly bit. She palmed the heavy flesh in her hands and squeezed and caressed. She let go of one luscious globe to lift another higher and run her fingernails along the soft flesh hidden beneath the weight. Kitten shook above her and breathed fierce and heavy into her hair.

"My pretty Kitty," Willow whispered, as she let go and watched Kitten's breasts sway with the deep breaths she took. Willow reached down and pulled apart the folds of Kitten's silk robe, revealing the apex of her legs. She gently forced her witch's legs to spread further by moving her own knees apart. Wetness glistened in the dark golden hairs, and the heady scent of her witch hit the roof of the vampire's mouth, making it water.

Willow was magnanimously considerate; she slipped the fingers of one hand into her Kitten's mouth, helping to stifle her cry, when she slipped a few more fingers into the tight, hot entrance of her witch's sex.

The Sunnydale Restful Cemetery had an ornamental lake – a very small one, but still a pretty good sized body of still water. Angel had never skipped stones since before his Turning. Why he felt the need to now, he had no idea. Being playful was an Angelus thing.

He stopped a moment at the realization, smooth stone readied in hand. When he finally let it go, it was with frenetic, vampiric strength. The stone shot off at blurring speed, skipping powerfully. It hit the opposite side of the lake and ricocheted off the edge. A distinct crack was heard and Angel watched as a distant, winged statue lost its marble head. As the sculpted head rolled on the grass, Angel hung his own head. Great, now he had a broken statue to pay for.

Angel walked away, up the gentle incline of Restful's hill, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the statue he'd just killed. Angelus, of course, had never minded a spot of gleeful vandalism, but the demon he had been had quickly found such senseless violence beneath his attention. Committing unspeakable evils upon human prey had proven a far more rewarding past time, and an unlife's proud passion.

Angel came to a standstill upon the hill's crest, and stuffed his large hands in his overcoat's pockets. He preoccupied himself with his dark memories, becoming one with the silent, winged statues around him.

When he heard an engine's deep purr, signaling the approach of someone's car, he almost didn't care to look up. Then he realized what time of night it was, which meant that any visitor right now could signify nothing good. He turned his head to note the car's passage through the cemetery's open gates, and then its slow trek up the road leading to his spot on the hill. His senses buzzed at the familiar presence of his first Childe. He should have recognized the sound of the car as well – it was distinctly Willow's vintage convertible.

When the convertible crested the hill, it came to a slow stop beside where he stood. Dru looked at him over her dark glasses in exaggerated, feigned bafflement, as if for the unlife of her she could not comprehend having found her Sire way up here.

"Dru! What are you doing? When did you learn to drive? Did Willow actually let you? Get out, I'm driving you home," Angel ended imperiously, and approached the car.

Dru had her mouth open, for she was about to say something suitably surreal and stunningly disturbing, as was her penchant. Unfortunately, her silly Soul-Daddy had effectively ruined this possible significant moment. Spike and her Precious would have stood, patiently smirking, and would have awaited her weird, wonderful words. Even Cubby would have, with her pretty patience hat on, although not smirky like. But oh no, not her Daddy of the Thorns, her Self Flagellating Sire. Fie, that he should wait to hear if Dru had anything really Important to say!

So Dru decided to have a spot of fun. She hit the emergency brake, loosening it, and stood up in the now slowly rolling car.

"Ah me!" she exclaimed dramatically, poised like a hapless heroine before her plunge down the falls. "The iron boat has me, Daddy!!"

"DRU!" Angel bellowed, as Willow's car, with his daughter standing without a care at the wheel, began to fall back down the hill. He ran desperately after the accelerating vehicle, leapt for the hood, and to his utter embarrassment, missed, skidding on his broad chest in the wet grass.

"Daddy Daddy!" Dru sang out, turning the wheel this way and that and miraculously missing any of the prominent headstones. The car's wheels merrily rent deep grooves in the previously immaculate grass. "Save me Sire! If not for myself, than for these poor marbled things of useless, stony wings – "

Dru turned the wheel sharply, leading Angel's pursuing mass right smack into one of the aforementioned winged statues.

" – Who have selfish need of an immortal, curs'd savior! Angel! Angel! Angel!! They cry! Save our empty heads!"

Angel growled in outrage and ran for his rampant, mad Childe once again. He could not help realizing that Dru was mocking him as William used to, early in his Turning, when the literary education of his former bloody awful poet self still influenced the learned mouth of that smart aleck childe. As Dru turned the car wheel once more, and Angel slipped in a tire's muddy groove, he suddenly remembered hills of another time – of runaway gypsy wagons with gleeful Childer riding within, mocking his chasing skills, much to Darla's disgust and derisive delight. The punishments meted out to his childer after the wild games of chase were the true rewards.

Dru squealed in happy fright as Angel finally landed his bulk, face down, upon the car's hot, black hood. He flailed a bit, making muddy wings upon the metal surface, but stuck determinedly.

"Dru! – " Angel attempted, and then suddenly, to his chagrin, giggled, as he heard his Dark Childe squeal in frustration again and hop up and down. He couldn't help himself, he continued to giggle as the car swayed left, then right, and then forced him to finally slip off.

"Ulp ulp ulp!" he said, as he slid awkwardly off and landed in a tumbling heap – this time upon concrete. Dru and Willow's car rolled slowly backwards through the cemetery gates and finally came to a stop.

"I won, Daddy!" Dru sang out in delicious, dark delight. She plopped herself back down into her seat and started up the car. As Angel pulled his muddy and grass stained self up, Dru had already maneuvered the car around.

"You owe me a punishment," she crowed with a devilish grin. "RRrrr," she added, playfully gnashing her white teeth at her disheveled, muddied sire, then she pulled the car triumphantly away. Angel blew out some air from his dead lungs, keeping out his daughter's parting cloud of car exhaust. After watching his childe's taillights disappear, he turned around and woefully assessed the damage done to the grounds of Restful and the awful sacrilege committed to its permanently rested. Looking at all the tire tracks making a zig zag, crazy pattern among the grave stones and statuary on the hill, he suddenly giggled again.

He clapped a dirtied hand to his mouth, but couldn't stop laughing. Now, he thought to himself, would be a good time to walk swiftly away. He'll try to pay for it, but there was no way on the Hellmouth he was going to own up to this spontaneous redecorating of Restful Cemetery.

Whatever Dru's mysterious motivation, her Sire left the hallowed grounds a far lighter soul than when he had entered.

Tara's lidded eyes watched Willow's, darkened blue upon serene, glittering green, as she slowly rode her vampire's fingers. The action of sucking upon the slim digits in her mouth no longer stifled the very small sounds escaping her throat. Willow did not seem to mind her tiny whimpers though, as she watched her witch undulate above her. She pushed her fingers into Tara's wet mouth at the same, deliberate rhythm as her other thrusting fingers. Tara gripped the seat's back hard, wishing she had placed her hands on Willow's shoulders instead. At least with her hands she could communicate just a little more of the desperate need building in her body.

Willow continued at her slow rhythm, all the while lazily watching her Kitten. Tara worked her warm tongue around Willow's fingers in her mouth and sucked deeper, hoping her vampire would give in, hoping she would reward her with more –

Willow pulled out suddenly, both hands, and Tara raggedly gasped as the vampire took firm hold of her waist and easily stood up. The young woman clung desperately, wrapping her legs around the vampire. Willow walked forward and Tara felt herself laid quickly down upon the white chaise lounge. The vampire mounted the chaise as well, hovering above her. The soft smirk on her face had grown to a Willowish leer.

As Willow gently removed Tara's hands from her shoulders and placed both her wrists in the grasp of one cool hand, Tara heard the tinkle of metal above her. Looking up, she saw slender, silver bracelets – manacles – clink together and gleam, their long, beautifully wrought links suspended by Willow's waiting hand.

"Trust me, Kitten?" Willow whispered, as she held the delicate chains aloft. Precious bonds for a precious Kitty. Tara shuddered, slightly fearful. She had never been bound before. Held down, yes, but....

Willow took the trembling hands held in her own and slowly kissed each finger. Tara tore her gaze away from the pretty chains to look in Willow's eyes. Power, and a dark, hungry arousal, were in those glittering, green depths, but....nothing else Tara need fear. Her fingers caressed the soft, smiling lips that still kissed her. Her blue eyes finally warmed and said yes. There was the clink of cool metal and then the weight of the manacles on her wrists.

Willow pulled upon the silver chain in her hand, and Tara felt her arms lift and move above her head. She craned her head up in reaction and saw the metal post and standing ring that was at the head of the chaise lounge. Her manacles had a common chain between them, forming a 'Y' with the long, shiny length that ran through the iron ring and back to Willow's gently imperious grip. The vampire continued to pull, and Tara's hands met the ring over the chaise's fabric arm. They stopped. The metal of her new cuffs rang slightly against the iron of the post. Tara looked again to Willow. The stretch pulled her arms taut, but she could bear it. She breathed deeply, her cheeks warming. Willow only had green eyed fascination for her now vulnerable body.

Willow's free hand flicked away both sides of Tara's loosened silk robe, baring the full length of her witch's nakedness further to her hungry appreciation. The vampire sat back slightly and ran a cool, possessive hand down the length of Tara's body. The bound girl let out a shaky gasp, trembling at the authoritative touch, but managed to suppress her moan.

"Good girl," she heard Willow whisper, as another firm caress made Tara shudder. "Now pull down for me, Kitten."

It took a moment for Tara to understand what Willow was ordering her to do, and then she moved to comply. She gripped the length of chain above her manacles and pulled, Willow's hold on her end only yielding slightly to the strength of her Kitten. As Tara pulled, she felt Willow's free hand fondle her almost roughly. Tara nearly cried out but bit her lip in time. The chains on her wrists suddenly pulled up.

Tara pulled down again, and this time when Willow groped her, Tara arched desperately up into the vampire's demanding hand, and managed to strangle her responsive cry. She continued to pulled down.

Willow ceased her one handed manhandling of Kitten's luscious body and sat back, admiring the red marks she had made on Kitten's pale, soft skin. She jerked once on the chain, then again, lifting Kitten's silk clad arms above her head by tiny increments until they were just right – with just the right amount of bend to them. A very appealing picture. And oh, the way her Kitten had her fingers tangled desperately in her chains. Yes, her helpless, pretty thing. Beautiful, beautiful one. Willow wanted to build a silver cage for her Kitten, and capture her thus forever.

Willow jerked the chain to the right, then left, and a distinct click could be heard. The length was now locked.

She threw her end of the chain to drape over the side of the chaise. She took hold of Kitten's face and kissed her hard.

The kiss was almost brutal; it was meant to bruise and dominate and exact a near painful pleasure. A deep groan threatened to break from Kitten's throat, but Willow felt her witch struggle to suppress it even as the vampire mercilessly attacked her mouth. Finally Willow raised her head, feeling her Kitten's harsh breaths upon her face as she viewed her handiwork. Swollen, reddened, and ripe. Just so perfect.

"Puppy, on my mark, take Kitten's picture, continuous shots," Willow ordered, cupping her witch's sex and finding it still ready and wanting. She stroked her gently, insistently, there, and Kitten whimpered. Willow swiftly entered with her fingers.

"Mark," Willow breathed as she watched Kitten arch at the penetration, the pretty chains she gripped taut and jangling.

"Mark," Willow breathed again, adding her second hand to her Kitten's sensitive clit. Kitten arched again and bit her lip hard against a cry.

She knew a touch in pleasure could be torment, but the kinds Willow gifted her with were of the most torturous sort. She was teasingly taken, always, to the very precipice of release. Tara could not even relieve just a little of that agonizing tension with a sound. All the exquisite, near painful sensations extracted from her body by Willow's authoritative hands were about to undo her. Any moment now, Tara felt she would finally cry out. Willow then ceased ordering Puppy and fell upon Tara with animalistic intensity, growling and fondling at will.

"Mine, all mine!" the vampire snarled into Tara's throat, her declaration echoed by the forceful caresses that touched where ever they pleased, mindful only of the vampire's now selfish pleasure. Willow's fingers possessed her once again, moving insistently. "You are all mine!"

Tara would have answered if she could. She eagerly met each of Willow's thrusts as she breathed frantically. The chains she desperately gripped jangled in rhythm – in sensual, jingling rhyme with the movements of their fierce coupling. Tears sprang to Tara's eyes more from the angered frustration of keeping herself silent than from urgent, forceful Willowhand. Her pleasure began to mount and she felt Willow's cool breath harsh upon her breast.

"Kitten, make any sound you want," she finally heard commanded into her chest. Tara wasn't sure if she made any when Willow's knowing touch finally tumbled her over the blissful edge. She knew she did, her body snapping like a taut bow, when Willow sank her teeth into her breast.

They were seated in the mansion's kitchen. They had long since left the sanctum behind, but the scent of sex and blood was of course, still so strongly evident, especially to the vampire. Her bite had been shallow, because she didn't want to leave Kitten with a scar. She drank only a little less than her usual pint and pleasured Kitten as best as she could as she sucked at her breast, wanting endorphins to counteract the pain of being fed upon. That trick had always worked, with biting while having sex, except this time.....

"Kitten, you're so – " Willow stopped herself, realizing that she almost sounded accusatory. She took a moment to recompose herself. "Usually," she managed, in a different, breathy tone, yet no less agitated. "No one...lasts that long. They break the rule long before the – and then I get to punish them, but you – "

Willow stopped herself again, as Kitten finally lifted her blue eyes from her steaming mug of slippery elm tea and regarded the vampire almost shyly.

"But you're so obedient, Kitten," Willow finished miserably. "I didn't mean to break your voice," she practically wailed.

Kitten shook her head at Willow, reaching to comfort the vampire. Willow felt even more miserable when Kitten slightly winced, obviously from stretching the bandage at her breast. It didn't stop Willow from moving in quickly to kiss her Kitten passionately. Again. Then again.

"Oh, I'm so bad!" Willow admonished herself with a rough, growly voice, as she pulled back only a little. "I want to take you again, right now, but I want your throat fixed first."

She pushed the mug. "Is the slippery elm helping? Maybe you need more. Or, I know! Honey, a spoonful of honey. Or even three spoonfuls. You can't ever have enough honey. A-And we can try the steam trick, that's supposed to soothe a sore throat too. Hot water, and steam, and – "

Willow removed the plastic, bear shaped, honey container from its place in the cupboard, and then stared at it blankly.

Her Kitten reached a hand out once more to placate the vampire. Willow, instead of throwing the plastic, empty smiley bear in a fit of fury, as she would have liked, moved into her Kitten's warm arms again.

"Now I need to run to the store! Honey would be better than slippery elm! Here, drink more."

But before Tara could take a second swallow, the mug was moved away from her open mouth and replaced by Willow-mouth. When the vampire finally broke off the kiss, Tara was coughing – a little painfully.

"I wish I could stick my tongue farther down your throat," Willow said almost matter of factly, except her eyes were tinged with the familiar demonic yellow, as she stared at her Kitten with intensity. "I want you again," the vampire stated, her words emphasized with a low, feminine rumble. "If I weren't so – a healing spell takes too much focus. Maybe if we have a quickie I can finally calm down and heal your throat, Kitten."

The sound of a car horn, beeping gaily, interrupted the couple's almost electric regard of each other.

"That's Sire! She finally brought back the car!" Willow exclaimed, dashing from her witch's warm embrace for the door and grabbing her leather coat along the way.

As Willow exited, making sure the kitchen door slammed shut behind her – no cold air for Kitten!! – she nearly slapped herself silly by clapping both hands to her alarmed face. Before her, Dru abruptly stopped her beloved Impala with a jerk before its grill could kiss the closed garage door – intimately.

"Sire!!" Willow screeched, sounding as strangled as her Kitten had when Willow had bitten her witch.

Dru emerged from the black car with a jaunty slam of the door. She sauntered dreamily up to her childe.

"BEST night!" she announced to the night sky, and she threw her arms open for her childe with a wicked grin. Instead of her Precious leaping into her arms as she expected, Willow scurried around her and leapt into the car instead.

"I have to go to the store," her childe babbled. "And I have to get gas! Look at the gauge! Mum, you ate all the honey!" And with that, Willow started her muddied car up again, pulled out of the driveway, and raced away.

Dru looked down at her empty arms, then around her, perplexed. Yes, her childe was indeed, gone.

In the warm and brightly lit kitchen, Tara drank more of the soothing, hot tea that left a healing coat upon her throat, and silently sighed. So Willow had never intended for her to keep the 'silence' rule, Tara thought ruefully, as she heard that same vampire leave the mansion with the anxious squeal of tires. Willow just hadn't known that Tara had already been well trained by a father's stern hand about obeying rules, no matter how painfully exacting those rules had been. Well, she mused. At least – phantom Giles aside – her first night as Willow's pet had gone pretty much all right. Tara could chalk up the session then, as a good night.

She pulled Willow's new gift, a midnight blue robe, closer around her body. Its plush material was so comfortingly thick and warm compared to the thin white silk she had just worn. She didn't know that the color merely graced her blue eyes with even further indigo depths, or brought out the perfect, milky quality of her pale skin – all qualities that had excited Willow further. The vampire knew exactly why she had to leave, though Tara certainly did not. The young woman did not know that she had come quite close to being thrown on her back and ravished by the vampire either upon the kitchen island, tiled counter, or linoleum floor. Or upon all three. The door to the kitchen slammed open, and Drusilla sauntered her slender, black laced self in.

"Noice noight," she drawled, in a deliberately thick English accent, then she paused, giving Tara the lazy regard of her large, lidded eyes. They gleamed then, knowingly, and Dru's mouth curved into a little smile.

Oh dear, Tara thought, blushing hotly. Could the elder vampire possibly smell her? Of course she could. Tara pulled her blue robe tighter around her.

"Lose your little roar?" Dru then inquired lightly, and cocked her head at Cubby. Honey Girl merely grew warmer. Like the surface of the sun.

"Hmm hmm hmmmmm," Dru hummed, and the long nailed fingers of one hand approached slowly and playfully across the kitchen island for Lovey. Honey Luv understood. The girl waited patient and still while Dru touched the flaring lines revealed by her Sight and switch them from screaming red to calming pink. Pink, pink, pink. Done. The stars did a little dance.

"Thank you," she heard Cubby softly say, her newly pink lines humming. Dru merely smiled. Yes, she thought, as she strolled out the kitchen for the stairs and the many stars that now winked awake and whispered to her. It had been a very good night at sea.

Willow prowled the aisles of her local 24 hour market and filled her basket with honey bears, yogurt – five different flavors – pudding, three kinds, then bananas. And soup. Broth. Chicken broth. No wait. Vegetable broth. Willow thought of Kitten's blue eyes and the delirious, hot taste of her blood – the warmth of her soft flesh and the velvet feel of her fingers in her silky – and filled her basket with canned peaches. The pimpled boy with the mop watched covertly. He entertained blossoming domination fantasies involving the pale, slender redhead in the long leather coat and heeled black boots and grinned. Willow swept passed him and headed back to the fresh fruit section. She wanted mangoes.

Dru danced and danced in her room, alternating between telling Miss Edith and Mr. Peter of the Great Wide Wide and the fine sailing, and scolding her stars when she didn't feel like listening to them. Tara stood, a few doors down, waiting patiently at her room's window. It was a handful of hours until dawn, but Tara could easily wait. She listened for the familiar sound of the Impala. Her vampire will come home hungry and wanting.

CHAPTER TWO: MAGIC KITTEN
(In Which A Willow-Pire Is A Tara-Friend; A Don Willow Receives Tribute; And Where Wills Says To The Broken One: Hi Buff.)

Cheery, Willow thought, as she sat in one of the strange plastic chairs of UC Sunnydale's common areas. That's how she would describe the school. Open arcades, lots of green and sunlight. Rather happy, oblivious students, passing to and fro while living the 'booky' life, as mum liked to call it. Such a very cheery, expectant place. The vampire had to wonder if, had she lived, she and the Slayer would be applying to this school. She knew her human self would've never wanted the Slayer left alone to her Hellmouth fight, even when the more prominent universities had courted the then promising computer hacker. Willow idly remembered the packets and papers from those other schools, possibly still neatly stacked and gathering dust in her old bedroom at the Rosenberg residence. Papers for a little girl now long dead. Willow doubted ivy league would've prepared her for her vampire and witch vocation, but then, when she thought on it, lots of evil people did come from those schools.

Willow flipped through the UC Sunnydale brochure and campus map she had picked up at the admissions office. She suppressed a smile when she sensed the intimately familiar, magical presence of her Kitten entering the area.

"W-Willow?" she heard exclaimed slightly from across her. The vampire looked up, catching her witch's look of surprise. Kitten maneuvered quickly around the chatting students blocking her way and went to where Willow sat. She moved to kneel by her feet.

Tara rose and slid into the identical, plastic lounge seat next to Willow's. After three nights of training in Willow's sanctum, Tara had nearly forgotten how freely she used to behave in the vampire's presence. Switching back and forth from the subservient 'pet' role to the more equal 'playmate' role would take some time figuring out, Tara noted to herself. It set her slightly off balance but she didn't mind. She was learning how to read Willow, as Willow was also learning how to read her – especially after the 'silence' rule incident. The past three nights of role playing had been focused, intense interactions where the two young women continued to discover just a little bit more about each other, and how to work in their roles together.

"Y-You're here," Tara began, nervously pushing a lock of hair behind an ear. "At school, I mean. In the daytime."

"Yes," her vampire merely replied, grinning, as she continued to hold the info pamphlet up before her. Willow was dressed, as usual, in her leather pants and long leather coat, but a new accessory was the thick, wooly black scarf draped around her shoulders. With it being a very bright, warm day outside, it was no wonder that the passing students gave the pale redhead in top to toe black several curious stares.

"I wanted to come disguised as a cheery UC student, with text books and ev'rything," Willow then said, as if she knew what Tara and the other students were thinking. Her green eyes trailed merrily over her witch's casually dressed form. Kitten, today, was wearing a tight, long sleeved tee, olive cargo pants, canvas slip-on shoes, and an across the shoulder book bag. "But I forgot to go disguise shopping."

Tara smiled. She could almost see Willow dressed casually, unlike her usually black clothed, sleeky, sexy self. It would be very cute. Especially in something fuzzy pink plus an adorable flower print.

"P-Perhaps the new evil master in town should consider having a disguise or two in her closet," Tara suggested. "A-And her Kitten could help shop," she added with a sly grin, which the vampire took in and met with her own.

"Oh yes," Willow affirmed, green eyes wide. "If Kitten will agree to a few vampire disguises for herself." She gave a giggle of delight when Kitten's face fell to some alarm – with a slight touch of dismay. Pay back, Willow thought smugly. She could practically tell from the mischievous glint in her witch's blue eyes how 'fluffy' Kitten was imagining dressing her.

"Rrrm," Tara heard Willow purr in her slender chest, as the vampire's eyes lidded. The half closed greens were literally saying: Leather. Kitten. Tara had to look down and away, blushing.

"Um," the witch finally said. "I'm so glad to see you here. But...why?..." She trailed off and bit her lip, as she looked at Willow.

"Why aren't I in bed and sleeping like a good vampire?" Willow suggested, making Kitten grin. "Cos I'm baaaaad," and she leaned over the uncomfortable plastic chair, wanting to finally kiss Kitten 'hello'. Her witch's lips met hers, and though the touch of those full lips was almost shy – they were both, if Willow could remember correctly, kissing for the first time in other humans' presence, after all – the contact was no less lovingly rewarding. Kitten seemed to regret her initial shyness though, and kissed the vampire more deliberately a second time.

"Mmmm," Willow hummed, when they finally parted. "Who needs to be sleeping when I can be doing this? Have you eaten yet, Kitten?"

"Then let's do that," Willow declared, jumping up and holding her hand out for Kitten.

As the two left the common area, Tara finally noticed that besides the heavy scarf, Willow wore a dark red messenger bag upon her back, and a very large, cane handled, black umbrella upon her slender arm.

"Like my bumbleshoot?" Willow commented, holding the rolled umbrella out for display. "I had it special ordered in England," she remarked proudly.

"Oh good. I thought you were going to say it looked 'banker-ish'. Wot, jolly ho, I say, and all that rot." Kitten laughed as the vampire postured with the umbrella. "Mary Poppins never had one of these though." Willow then demonstrated slyly by pushing a button upon the handle, unlocking the hidden sword within the cane of the umbrella. She pulled it up slightly, the steel glinting, for Kitten to see.

"Actually, maybe she did," Willow mused as she clicked the sword back in place. "A witchy woman who flew around with a magic carpet bag and disciplined children? Someone not to mess with," she concluded solemnly. A rude body bumped hastily into Willow, as they walked through an outdoor arcade, nearly knocking the vampire into a patch of sunlight. Willow turned her head sharply at the culprit student and Tara felt the tingle of magic. The unsuspecting student went flying, his books scattering as he fell – hard. Willow resumed walking.

Tara shook her head, but resignedly followed the red haired witch. She wished the respect and consideration Willow held for her would extend to other humans, but for now, it was probably asking too much of the vampire. Tara chanted an ancient, traveler's spell under her breath, a blessing of sorts, that would allow people to move obliviously around a dangerous, possibly unseen obstacle in their path – namely, her Willow. She really didn't want to see the vampire put the sword part of her bumbleshoot into action, anytime soon.

They made it to the cafeteria without further incident, and Willow surprised her by supplementing her witch's choice of salad with a yogurt, a pudding, a banana, and a cup of dried vegetable soup from her red messenger pack.

"And I brought you a honey bear," Willow also revealed, as she added hot water to the soup. "For your dorm room."

Tara dutifully ate everything provided by the vampire, but couldn't help being silently amused by the touching gesture. She knew these food choices were the result of Willow's infamous market run the night Tara had accidentally lost her voice.

And this was the question that surprised Tara, though she did not show it. As she told Willow about her day – about teachers, subjects, and assignments – Tara finally suspected why she had been surprised. Willow was showing an interest; Willow was...listening. Her vampire was acting not like a master, but like a friend.

Tara realized then why Willow had shown up at her school today; to make an effort to fulfill her part in their bargain. She looked away suddenly, and rapidly blinked back the emotion threatening to leave her eyes.

"Is something wrong?" she heard Willow hurriedly ask, a cool hand reaching for the witch's own across the cafeteria table.

"No," Tara quickly assured. She smiled, turning back to the vampire. "I'm just...I'm so happy you came today."

Willow's face widened into a little grin. "I am too, Kitten," she softly agreed.

The sun was shining so brightly. All the shadows were reduced, not yet time for them to lengthen, and it left little safe haven for her vampire to travel in as they negotiated the open arcades of the campus. Willow had her umbrella but did not bother to open it, nor did she do more with her scarf then let it hang behind her as she walked. Black, leather gloves peeped from a coat pocket, but Tara could tell Willow had no intention of putting them on. It was as if the vampire mocked the sunlight with her presence, daring the sunbeams that were just out of reach to threaten the vulnerable skin of her hands, her face. Tara moved so that her shadow would fall upon Willow. She continued to whisper the incantation that would nudge students away from her vampire.

"That spell works better when you're in a boat or a horsie cart, doesn't it, Kitten," Willow remarked, eyes sparkling when she heard her witch's soft, pretty voice recite the same, obscure words for the fifth time.

"I don't want anyone to bump you into the light," Tara said, when she finished the spell. Since they weren't in a boat, or a horse drawn cart, the spell had to be placed on Willow herself, but it was far too minor a spell to cast on a powerful, mystical presence like Willow. The incantation would stick only a little while, then slide off the vampire like water drops upon wax. Thankfully, human traffic thinned to a trickle and they came upon a deserted, connecting arcade.

"Oh," Tara commented worriedly, as she saw how the arcade's brick laid path was fully illuminated by the sun. Her next class lay just ahead, but it looked like Willow would not be able to pass this way. Before she could suggest an alternate route, the vampire leapt lightly to stand upon the wall's ledge that ran the length of the arcade. That area of the wall, just above Tara's height, still remained in shadow.

"I'll walk here, Kitten, it'll be all right," Willow grinned down at her, and proceeded to place one foot after the other upon the narrow wall ledge. Sighing slightly at her vampire's reckless bravado, Tara followed, watchful, beside her, and recalled and readied another spell upon her tongue.

"I don't know that 'obstacles' spell you did, Kitten, do you know lots of folksy spells?" Willow asked as she balanced herself along the ledge.

"'Folksy'?" she heard Kitten say in mild indignation, and Willow had to giggle. "If you mean how to keep the 'baccy from staining the rug and how to get ol' Bossie to come straight home, yes'm, I know lots of 'folksy' spells."

Willow's mirth threatened to topple her, but she righted herself in the nick of time, just as she heard Kitten's heartbeat race at her near fall. Her witch had a very understated, yet straight faced way of being sarcastic, and it always made Willow laugh.

"Well you have me beat, Kitten, I only know how to curse and bring people horrifying harm and death," Willow finally quipped. And destroy worlds, she added to herself. "But I don't exactly know how to curdle milk or lose foals so your ol' Bossie cow is safe from me."

"You're not such an evil witch then," Kitten mused. "Real evil witches know how to do all that."

"I'm evil!" Willow protested. "Just not 'earthy' evil. But you're earthy – all wiccy goody earth – so when I'm with you," Willow emphasized with one finger upraised, as she continued to negotiate the narrow ledge. "I don't intend to do as much of that ol' black magic – it would just corrupt you. Actually, it wouldn't corrupt you, you're far too white light for that. It'll just make you sick. Literally. So I was thinking," and Willow's voice got little girl breathy with her excitement. "I'll show you technopagan stuff, since that's safe, and you can show me your earth magicks."

When Tara heard the word, 'techno', she balked slightly. "C-computers?" she exclaimed. "I don't know if I can connect with that."

"I don't know if I can re-connect with the life force of the earth, being one of the damned undead," Willow remarked matter of factly, daring a light hearted skip on the ledge. "But it'll be fun to find out."

Tara smiled up at the vampire. Willow's enthusiasm was infectious. "Yes," was all Tara said, her acceptance and agreement all rolled into the one simple word. Willow respected the blonde witch's Wicca practice and her ethics. Tara could have nothing but instinctive trust for such a partnership, despite the evilness of the partner in question.

"We're almost there," Tara then commented, noting the end of the arcade nearing. The sun had already moved an increment across the sky, causing the sunlight that fell into their walking space to grow, practically touching the vampire's nimble boots upon the wall. Willow hummed and continued her tightrope act.

"Hold FAST," Tara commanded, her magic enveloping Willow and freezing her sideways descent. One of Tara's hands had shot out – the right one, with its flashing, silver slave bracelet – and it firmly held Willow's outstretched, leather clad arm out of harm's way of the sun. "Return," Tara then incanted, and Willow found herself once again upright upon the wall's thin ledge.

"Thank you, Kitten," she said sincerely, but her witch, having already assessed that the vampire was safe, was now looking worriedly about them for possible witnesses. The young woman finally returned her blue eyes to Willow.

"No more games until we reach the end, okay?" her witch said up to her with a disapproving half grin. Willow only widened her eyes innocently.

"I did not mean to fall – " and Kitten merely folded her arms at the vampire's half hearted protest. "That particular way," Willow finally added coyly with a grin. She resumed her walk down the narrow ledge, Kitten following attentively right beside her. Willow had noticed how at the ready the blonde girl had been. She just had to chance a fall so she could see her witch in action. To know that she, Willow the World Killer, could elicit such protection...it felt so good.

Willow was too deep inside the safety of her umbrella to be able to see properly, but the shocked tones of her witch were easily recognizable. Willow sat, within the precarious shade of her bumbleshoot, at a brightly sunlit, outdoor table of the Espresso Pump. She worked the wrapped scarf from her mouth and turned her shaded eyes in the direction of her Kitten.

"Hullo Kitten! I'm so glad you got away from class. I just ordered your iced mocha cappa – "

To Willow's amazement, she felt herself lifted firmly from her seat by one of her arms and the large umbrella pushed back down to shade her upper body once again.

"Kitten!" Willow protested. She had no idea where her witch was pulling her, almost none too gently, so she just moved her boots to follow Kitten's sandaled feet. Oh how nice, what a pretty skirt her Kitten was wearing today. "What about your mocha?"

"Kitten!" Willow could only say in an astonished, hushed tone. Her gentle witch just swore! The vampire watched their feet hurriedly step into the street. Apparently Kitten was leading her across it. They entered a shaded sidewalk, but before the vampire could emerge from beneath the umbrella she heard a bell jingle merrily. Her witch led her through a door she pushed open.

Willow, having finally been allowed to lower the umbrella, looked at a surprised Anya behind the counter of the Magic Box. It seemed the ex-demon could recognize the vampire despite the sunglasses and swaths of scarf wrapped around her head. She felt herself spun around by the shoulders to face her Kitten.

"Stay here and don't move!" Kitten ordered her. "I'll be right back." And then her witch left quickly through the Box's entrance.

Willow turned around slowly, thinking she needed to salvage her 'Master vampire' image before the ex-demon, and fast. However, Anya looked appropriately respectful of her presence and said nothing, so the vampire decided just remaining where she was and making a big, slow show of shutting the umbrella would suffice. Kitten did say not to move.

"The Killick Compendium," Anya suddenly piped up, smiling eagerly. "I'm still tracking one on Ebay, and there's at least two reliable book sellers in Europe who both say they've intact copies. I'll email when I decide which one you ought to buy," Anya added helpfully.

"Good," Willow merely said, finally finishing with the umbrella. She slowly removed her shaded eye wear from her eyes in her most nonchalant, yet sinister manner, gazing coolly about the store. The bell jingled again behind her.

"Okay," she heard her witch mutter to herself. "Anya, would it be all right if Willow and I had coffee here?"

"Coffee! Near my books for sale! Okay, certainly," Anya decided hastily. She made a open handed gesture to the reading tables near the bookshelves. "You are very welcome to drink coffee in my shop. And read at the same time. As long as you buy the book."

Tara, glad of her friend's welcome – roundabout as it were – skipped quickly down the brief stairs for the tables, where she placed the coffees Willow had purchased. The vampire followed more leisurely and deliberately, slowly pulling her leather gloves from her hands as she did so. When she moved to unwrap the scarf from her head, she still hadn't reached the table, preferring to gaze about her with disinterested disdain. Tara watched her, a dismayed realization reaching her eyes. Her vampire was in full 'master vampire' mode, and the blonde witch was certain that her own behavior since entering the store had been very inappropriate for the role.

Tara's eyes drifted down and then back up to where Willow was still posturing her slow way to the table. The young woman would have to stand and wait until Willow indicated what she should do.

Willow finally sensed, by the uneasy silence that fell, that something was wrong with her witch, and when she glanced her way, she saw the distress plainly evident in her Kitten's blue eyes. Willow could just smack herself. She made a quick decision.

"Anya," she addressed, turning suddenly to the shop manager. The slim young woman jumped, despite having watched both Tara and the vampire rather closely. "I've never really talked to you since my return."

"Yes!" Anya replied brightly, really very glad that the vampire Willow deemed her now human self worthy of direct conversation. "But I can understand, since you've a House to establish, and a Family to take care of. But I very much appreciate all the money you've given me for my purchasing and ordering services since you've come back from your dimensional travels. Which Tara told me about," Anya decided to clarify. She didn't want to sound like she and the other demons had been gossiping about the new Master vampire in town – even though she had been.

"We should catch up then," Willow said solicitously. "Why don't you grab a coffee for yourself and join us? Kitten and I can watch your money." The ex-vengeance demon was a notorious capitalist, but apparently the vampire's offer outweighed her obsessive love of money. Anya practically hopped in place in glee. She grabbed her purse from beneath the front counter. "I'll be right back!" she assured as she ran for the door.

The door jingled yet a third time, and Willow turned back to regard her Kitten. Warmth and utter gratitude met her eyes.

"Thank you," Kitten whispered sincerely, and such happiness was evident in her beautiful face, Willow would gladly stake herself repeatedly to see it happen again and again.

"Anything for my Kitten," Willow murmured, and walked rapidly to the end of the table to kiss her.

When Anya returned with her own caffeinated drink, the ex-demon and the vampire settled down and did indeed catch up on what had happened while Willow and her sire had been gone.

"Well, after you and Xander apparently killed Cordelia, you disappeared with Drusilla. But Buffy didn't pay much attention to that at the time because to her, it just meant you wouldn't be around to interfere while she hunted Xander. She really wasn't motivated to stake either of you until Cordelia disappeared," Anya supplied, as she sipped her coffee.

"You say 'apparently', like you don't believe Xander and I drained Cordelia. We did," Willow said. She rose from the table. The subject discussed meant that Anya and she were dominating the conversation, which left her Kitten merely listening. If Willow could not interact more with Kitten like she had intended with their coffee date, then she'll at least pay her other attentions. Willow took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs of the Box. She patted a leather clad leg.

"It's just that Amy says she found Cordelia barely alive after you two discarded her," Anya replied, as she watched Tara slide easily into the vampire's lap, her back to Willow's front. "She was very proud of the fact that she did something that kept Cordy living until she could make it to the hospital, but I'm not sure what Amy meant by that – probably a spell. But Amy didn't know what happened to Cordelia after that, what with the big Buffy hunt for Xander and your disappearing. If there was a funeral, we didn't get to hear about it."

"Turn Kitten, arms around my neck," Willow murmured. Kitten immediately moved in her lap to comply, her body now sideways to the vampire's. As she felt warm arms drape around her shoulders, Willow grinned into the ample chest now presented to her appreciative gaze. "How did Xander die?" Willow asked, as she blew a little dead breath into her Kitten's cleavage. She loved it when her witch wore these skin hugging, wide collared tops. Kitten shivered appropriately.

While Anya related – in enthusiastic, gossipy fashion – vampire Xander's recklessly dangerous game playing and Buffy's final confrontation with her former loyal Scooby friend, Willow preoccupied herself with blowing concentrated, cool breaths on Kitten's tightly clad breasts. She was trying to get her witch's nipples to harden. She grinned a big, Willow-y lecherous grin when she succeeded.

"Oh! Customer!" Anya exclaimed as the bell jingled. "This person always goes for the latest lust charms," she added in a confidential aside to the vampire and witch. Anya bounced up to greet this customer whom she obviously expected to spend money.

"You don't seem that embarrassed in front of Anya, Kitten," Willow noted, kissing the warm chest in front of her. Except for the blush, Kitten was not nervous, nor did her heart race.

"Anya's Anya," Kitten said simply. "She's accepting of practically anything, so I try to be comfortable with that."

"Is she a very good friend of yours?" Willow queried. Her shy witch seemed very much at ease with the ex-demon.

"Oh yes, Anya was my first friend when I came to Sunnydale." Actually, what Tara would always feel grateful for was that the former demon had not judged Tara on her supposed demon heritage when she learned about it. The young woman had never encountered such acceptance before. "A-And she gave me a job here as well."

Tara shifted nervously in the vampire's lap as she said this. This was the first time she had brought up her job at the Magic Box to Willow.

"You work here at the Magic Box, Kitten? You haven't been recently." Willow frowned, her keen mind rapidly going over the days and nights since acquiring her Kitten. No, all Kitten's non-school blocks of time had been with Willow.

"Th-that's because Anya felt I sh-should be with you – not that I mind at all," Tara added hastily. "I'm grateful she gave me time off, b-but – "

"You still want to work, Kitten?" Willow asked, continuing to frown. This wouldn't do, especially with the full time schooling. It would severely cut into her Kitten-time.

"I was suggesting that Tara put off for the semester and resume working in the summer time," Anya suddenly chimed in, sliding back into the seat she had vacated. "Not everyday, of course. Just enough shifts here and there so she can feel like she's making money."

"You need money, Kitten? Because I – " Willow understood Kitten wanting independent income, but Willow could easily – no, was required, to help her Kitten with anything she needed. She would be a poor excuse for a Master if she didn't.

"I – " Tara interrupted hastily, utterly flustered. She could tell Willow was going to overrule her on the money issue.

"It's true, and I don't see why you don't just tell Willow. She can easily buy you one. And since she's obviously unlike other master vampires and is allowing her Pet to drive all over the place, she should at least get you your own car."

Tara glared at her rather enthused friend. Now that Anya had actually said all that out loud, Willow, in her vampire pride, would probably get Tara a car despite her protests.

"I was planning to anyway," she heard Willow say, to her astonishment. "I hadn't decided on which kind yet. To surprise her with," Willow added pointedly to the unaffected ex-demon. She returned her attention to her witch. "So that's why you had that much in your bank account, Kitten. I was pretty sure it wasn't for a trip abroad or something."

"What?" Tara now directed her indignation to the vampire whose lap she still sat on. "You looked at my – "

Willow was trying very hard to suppress a sense of sudden sheepishness – especially in front of Anya. 'Sheepishness', sheesh! the vampire groused to herself. She had never felt so in her unlife! Thankfully, Anya interrupted.

"I looked at your bank book too, when I was in your dorm room," Anya easily informed. "Considering how much you've made since I've looked, you're a few hundred or so away from getting that second hand Toyota, Tara."

Anya then sprang from her seat again, as more than two customers entered the shop this time. Tara felt ready to actually scold someone, but Anya's quick departure threw her righteous indignation off.

"I would say I'm sorry I peeked in your bank book too, especially when you hid it so well. But I wouldn't be sorry of course, Kitten," Willow admitted to her softly. She pointed at herself, as Tara struggled with her emotions. "Fiend, y'know." At that, Tara couldn't help a frustrated smile.

"Since Anya found it as well, I doubt I did a good job of hiding it," Tara grumbled.

"That girl can smell numbers anywhere, Kitten," Willow smirked, and she was glad when her witch giggled a little guiltily. Then her Kitten suddenly stopped.

"Have you," Kitten said seriously, her blue eyes searching Willow's now widened green ones. "Looked at m-m-my," Kitten took a breath. Willow realized what her witch was asking.

"No! No Kitten, I wouldn't," the vampire protested. "Well, okay, I found where you hid them and I just – I only looked at them in their hiding place. I didn't touch them or open them or anything," Willow assured hastily. "We haven't done magic together yet, Kitten, but I sorta couldn't wait to not know if you had a Book of Shadows, and of course you do have one. I just wanted to see," Willow finally added a little guiltily. "Are you mad?"

"No," Tara finally said. She'd never checked to see if her books' hiding place had been disturbed, though she knew a witch of Willow's caliber could've easily found them. She was just very glad that Willow respected the privacy of her Book of Shadows.

"You have two," Willow then remarked, very relieved that Kitten wasn't mad at her.

"Yes, one was grandmom's, which was her grandmother's, and the newer one is my mama's and mine," Tara explained. She suddenly laughed as she felt herself bounced on the vampire's excited knee.

"Oh oh oh!" Willow ejected breathlessly. "If – if you ever show them to me, Kitten, I would be very, very, very honored," she said with as much seriousness as her bright eyed excitement would allow.

Anya smiled broadly as she rang up a lucrative sale. She was happy about the new money to be added to her day's till, and about her own friend's apparent happiness.

Willow checked the corners of the picnic blanket again, making sure they were properly and flatly spread, and then checked the contents of the picnic basket. She had purposely chosen the oldest oak on Sunnydale campus, and fortunately it had a generous overhang of thick, shading branches, easily protecting her from the afternoon sun.

"Willow," she heard spoken warmly, and the pleasing scent of her witch wafted easily to her upon the gentle breeze.

"Hullo Kitten! See, I'm properly under the shade this time," Willow indicated, having even laid her protective long, leather coat aside, as well as her large umbrella. "Short of all the branches disappearing, I'm in no trouble."

"Good, because I never ever want to see you outside like you were at the Espresso Pump, ever again," Kitten firmly admonished without even one stutter. Willow felt suitably chastised.

"Okay Kitten, never ever," Willow promised, making a big display of crossing her heart. "Hope to die." Kitten just shook her head at her, a reluctant grin lifting the side of her wide mouth.

"Now come sit with me so I can feed you!" Willow urged, patting the blanket beside her. Her witch had on a very cute blue sweater today, embroidered with small flowers. Willow eyed Kitten's breasts and couldn't wait to get the sweater off. Kitten's soft sweaters always seemed to have that effect on her, Willow mused to herself, as she pulled out a container of fruit. She wondered why that was. Sweater girl fetish. Or boobs fetish. Tee Hee.

"What?" the vampire had to ask, as she decided to pop one of the little fruits in her own mouth. Ooo! Tangy!

"In human terms, this is like a date," Kitten said, her blue eyes bright. "But you did it kind of backwards, seducing me first."

"Oh, I know," Willow agreed. She fed her witch some sliced banana – hoping the sweetness would take away some of the tangy taste. "That's why vampires make lousy 'girlfriends', Kitten. It's 'get naked!' and sex sex sex. And then we eat our human bed warmers after the great sex."

"I'm glad you're different," Tara murmured, watching her vampire with lidded eyes.

"Oh, don't underestimate me, I've had my sicko phases, although not on the level of Angelus, what with the leaving you the murdered bodies of those you love, elaborately presented like artistically gruesome gifts. Among other things. His idea of courtship was psychological torment, not mochas and picnics," Willow grinned, as if speaking of macabre courtships were a regular thing for her. "You read about that at the Watcher's, didn't you Kitten?"

Tara nodded solemnly, although with a twinkle in her eyes, as she watched Willow unwrap some wax paper, revealing petite, precisely cut, triangle sandwiches with no crust. 'Courtship', hm? Tara mused. But best not to tease the vampire about that now.

"Spike and Dru, and I'll guess, you, don't seem as interested in that sort of thing. You're all very vicious, a-and liked to play with your, um, victims," Tara added, tucking some hair behind her ear. "But you don't seem as..."

"Theatrical? Show man'y? Desiring of fame and attention?" Willow prompted, smirking, as she offered her witch the tiny, perfectly made sandwich. "Try that. Spike showed me how to make them, they're properly British," the vampire emphasized, in a properly stuffy tone, and Tara laughed. "He and I would make them for Mum's tea. She can't eat them, but she likes them included, with the cookies and stuff."

Tara dutifully bit into the delicate white bread and its tasty, salmon spread. "Mm," she enthused, smiling. "Really good."

Willow smiled as well, pleased. She pulled out another perfectly wrapped wax covered sandwich.

"I made cucumber too. You'll like those," the vampire exclaimed as she unfolded the paper and laid the small sandwich out. She poured Kitten some tea, and then a glass of blood for herself.

"Do you know what Angelus was like – before his Turning?" Tara asked curiously. There were several things that troubled her about Willow's grandsire, and what Willow had just said seemed to answer at least one of her questions.

Willow shook her head as she laid back. "I think only Darla would know. Why, Kitten?"

Tara thought for a moment. "I just think that if he had been a failed man, that would explain why he's the way he is."

"You mean, 'was'," Willow corrected, thinking on what Kitten had just said and realizing yet again how incredibly astute her witch was.

"Well, both," Tara agreed. "He tried too hard as Angelus, and now he tries so hard as Angel."

Willow drank her blood and refrained from making some further comments that had occurred to her – about Xander, and....herself. It was true, the person the human was before, somehow influences the dark motivations of the demon who would rise in that person at the Turning. Willow didn't really want her Kitten to know about her pathetic, human self, even though she was sure to find out, at some point.

Kitten blushed slightly, and looked away. Willow nudged the cucumber sandwich closer to her, hoping that would make her question feel less serious. Finally Kitten spoke.

"There were things that bothered me...about him," she began hesitantly, even as Willow urged her to take the sandwich in hand. Bothered? Tara thought to herself. More like suspected. The moment Angel had realized she'd been claimed, when she had first visited Buffy at the hospital, his behavior towards her had changed. He was an elder vampire, he could not help the natural inclination of a patriarch to be protective, or more correctly, possessive, of what belonged to his Family.

Willow sat up at Kitten's surprising admission. "Has Angel been – " she began, and could barely finish the thought. Oh, if her grandsire has been hitting on her Kitten, she'll kick his patootie from here to –

"Sire rights," her Kitten abruptly said. "He's your patriarch and – I could feel it. He has Sire rights."

Willow's pert mouth fell open. Hell, Kitten learned just the right stuff from the Watcher's books! Sire rights, indeed, smart Kitty!

"No no!" Tara hastily corrected. God, as usual, she was going about this all wrong. "He wouldn't. It's just he subconsciously w-would want to act that way. W-when he was Angelus he had Pets too." When she saw the surprise in Willow's face, she realized her vampire hadn't known that. "There are barely any details, but it looked like he didn't keep any for long. A-And it looks like Spike and Dru never bothered to keep any themselves...at least from what the watchers could tell. W-What belongs to the Childe – "

"Belongs to the Sire," Willow finished for her Kitten. It was the basic recitation of Sire Rights. "Kitten," Willow hastily assured, now on her knees before her seated witch. "Angel will never ask for you. He's all poofy 'I'm the anti-vampire, see me brood'. The soul's not going to let him. And Dru's not at all that kind of Sire, so you're all mine. You will not have to submit to anyone else in the Family unless you want it. Don't worry," Willow finally said, putting a hand on her witch's knee.

"I-I can see Angelus," Kitten then astonished her with. For the second time that day, Willow had the look of the dumbstruck on her face.

"It's his aura," her witch further explained, as Willow sat still. Aura?? the vampire thought. We vampires have auras? Willow found the revelation exciting, and then suddenly, frightening. Especially where it concerned her.

"Angel's soul is – is like an impenetrable blanket, but a tightly wound one. The demon is all swaddled inside, all...immobile, uncomfortable..."

"Angelus is not asleep, he's there, a-and I think he's really, really, um...frustrated."

'Frustrated' wasn't what Tara wanted to say, but she didn't exactly want to voice the real possibility.

"You think he can get out?" Willow asked. She really doubted that – those gypsy curses could be really darn thorough, much to Willow's professional admiration – but she wasn't sure what her Kitten was afraid of.

"No..." Kitten faltered, biting her lip. Willow's hand on her witch's knee soothed it up and down, encouraging Kitten to continue. "I just think t-t-t-temptation's not, um, good for him," her witch finally finished hurriedly.

Willow tried, but failed to suppress a grin, as her witch blushed. Hello Adam, meet Eve!

Tara almost wanted to say yes. She was a tad suspicious that Angel could let a little Angelus out if he allowed it.

"N-No," she decided to say instead, seeing the worry and determination that entered her vampire's slender face. "Maybe just...really tense? I don't want a-any trouble to happen i-in your Family!" Tara finally blurted, dismayed. Her biggest fear since her suspicions about Angel was that she'd get Willow into trouble, fighting her grandsire. It would be such a horrible mess.

"Oh Kitten," Willow admonished, actually feeling relieved. "I can handle Angel being 'tense'. That would be par for the course in a vampire family. Surely you've learned from the Watcher's books how much we Family members can fight. We try to kill each other all the time!" Angel sexually frustrated because he couldn't have her Kitten? Willow scoffed. She could definitely handle that. "Really. If he tries anything, I can challenge him formally without killing him. Then Dru doesn't have to freak. A witch can easily defeat a vampire, even one as old as he. I can protect you, Kitten."

"Okay," her witch finally agreed, smiling at last. The relief and acceptance radiating from Kitten nearly knocked Willow over. Obviously this had been something that had bothered the young woman for a while. Willow watched Kitten raise the sandwich to her mouth, happy.

"So it's the soul that loves Buffy," Willow observed reflectively, as she laid back on an elbow. Kitten just nodded, obviously enjoying the cucumber sandwich now that the issue of Angel and his sire rights had been taken care of. "But the demon is interested in you." Kitten blushed slightly, eyes lowering, but she nodded again. "Does Angel know?"

Kitten only shook her head. Well then, no wonder her witch was concerned, Willow mused. What a fucked up grandpa Willow had! Bet Angel would deny it too, if his grandchilde tried to tell him. The big guy had been too long the elder patriarch – and now broody loner – to let anyone tell him anything. But now that Kitten had let her know, Willow felt certain she could handle the situation, should it arise.

"Kitten," Willow finally decided to ask. This was dangerous ground now, but she had to know...if Kitten knew. "You can see my aura too, can't you?"

"It's different because a vampire's body is dead, b-but the demon that animates you is what gives you life. I learned how to see a vampire's aura with being, um, near you. For others who could Read, they w-would have to figure out how to do it too – get around the presence of death before they can see you."

Kitten finally looked at her, her blue eyes, for the first time, almost enigmatic. "I could always see Angel's. His soul is on the outside."

For a long time neither of them said anything, as the breeze blew softly in the branches above them, sending the occasional, small oak leaf fluttering down.

"Alot of things seen, need never be spoken of," Tara said softly, almost too quietly for mortal ears to hear. She could see Willow from the corner of her eyes. She picked up one of the vampire's carefully wrapped sandwiches. She removed the wax paper. As she began to slowly eat the bread, she felt Willow crawl to lay her head in her lap, one of her arms coming around her witch's waist to embrace her.

Tara whispered the old words, whispered them clearly and carefully into the translucent floor of Willow's Sanctum. She lay upon the magically warmed surface, her bared flesh pressed against milky stone, and wove with her words, sun, green, and soil into the veins and waters that flowed through the rock and walls. She was adding the last point of power to her vampire's Sanctum. Willow's cool hands touched her as Tara worked, moving the loosened silk robe further from her shoulders, caressing her back. Excitement emanated from her vampire. Tara whispered and passed her hand repeatedly upon the smooth stone, her magic entering, tendriled, threading the weave. Willow rolled to her back, joining her witch upon the floor. Her slender hands reached out into air as she watched brown and green and gold split and spread in her Sanctum, marrying lightning, heat, and blue.

"I can touch it. I can touch, I can touch," Willow babbled, watching, reaching, her fingers tracing. The air was electrified, and an erotic response coursed through her at witnessing earth energy erupt and canopy with air, fire, and water above her. Kitten's whispered song finally ended, with thanks and humbled devotion, and Willow grabbed her witch and moved her to lay upon her back. Stone had been pressed against her light magic girl and now Willow only wanted herself against Kitten, flesh upon flesh. Willow tore her own blouse off. As she moved against her soft, hot witch she tasted green upon the air; roots, leaves, and sprouting, glorious seeds. Fruit, she smelled fruit –

"Oh Kitten," she groaned. "Never seen – never seen before – " She entered her beautiful girl. "I can touch it."

Willow listened for her witch's heartbeat. She found her easily, in the library.

"Kitten?" she softly asked. It was nearing dawn, and Willow was surprised that she had not felt her Kitten leave their bed. She thought that her girl would be exhausted from the spell she had done in the vampire's sanctum, but here she was, blue eyes bright, wrapped in her soft midnight robe in a leather back chair. Books lay open before her.

"Did Willow take your voice again," the red haired witch reproached softly, realizing how beautiful the silence was between them, just as it had been in the sanctum last night, and on other nights. Kitten's presence created such peace. Her witch smiled, and held out a hand.

Willow moved, thin, red silk making its subtle sounds as she approached Kitten. The vampire was trying her best to make a habit of wearing the very short, japanese robe, since her usually blissfully nude self seemed to distract her witch – alot. Kitten liked the dragon embroidered on it; she said the emerald eyes matched Willow's. Willow took Kitten's warm hand.

"I couldn't sleep," her witch whispered, smiling even as she bit her full bottom lip. "It felt so good to do...I'd never done that much before."

"Creation, Kitten," Willow said softly, kneeling beside her witch's chair. "Big magic. My sanctum is a power chamber and it channeled you beautifully. Are you high? It's okay to say so, cos that's what power can do to you."

Kitten shook her head. "N-No, it's more like," and she blinked, obviously overwhelmed with emotion, yet she was radiant. "I did good, Willow. I made light and life happen. My magic is good."

"Of course it is, Kitten," Willow whispered, astonished. She reached out for her girl's face. "It so very much is. Your magic is so good, it blinds me, Kitten." How Kitten could still not know this, Willow could barely understand. That damn family brainwashing was to blame, and the vampire made a mental note to highlight her 'Maclay family' entry in her Pilot.

"Evil things like me love owning Good things like you," Willow then explained, wondering if perhaps Kitten thought herself a not very good person for being with the vampire. "You know, my reputation is enhanced by enslaving a Wicca witch like you," she informed playfully. That prompted a self conscious, wide smile on her witch's lips and Willow was glad.

"I, um," Kitten gestured slightly to the books. "I felt like, maybe I could finally try something harder...a t-t-transmorgification," she managed to carefully pronounce. "For Amy."

"That's certainly a hard spell," Willow mused, having done a few of those herself. Turning people into snakes was one of her favorites. "Cuz those kinds, they're usually not of the good, and demand high payment. Unless you're powerful, like me. I can show you how, but is it the spell that you want to try, or is it that you just want to help Amy?"

"I want to help Amy," Kitten hurriedly assured. "I don't need to do the spell myself. I just thought I could find a-a better way," she said, looking towards the books again. "B-But only black magic can do it?"

"Just plain power can do it," Willow clarified. "I can partner with you, and show you how, and then we can change Amy back to her old, naughty witchy self. We can do it together, how about that?"

Kitten squeezed her hand gratefully, her eyes bright. "Oh yes, that sounds wonderful."

"Okay then," Willow agreed. "Now let's get your Wiccy self back in my bed," she growled.

"Well now, I-I say," he stammered, even though he knew Tara would be bringing the vampire.

"Hello Mr. Giles," Tara said shyly. The leather clad vampire, thankfully, chose to stand at a distance from the Watcher's entrance – beside the courtyard fountain, to be precise. "I-I brought Willow. Perhaps we can do th-the spell out here?"

"Yes! Yes, of course, I'll fetch Amy," the Watcher agreed and disappeared from his doorway. Tara cast a glance back at her vampire. Willow stood innocently, hands in her leather coat's pockets.

"Nice night," Willow chirped. Tara had to grin. It was something Dru would say, but more with a slinky drawl. The Watcher returned, large, heavy cage in hand. He stepped warily into the courtyard, his framed eyes glancing at Willow, and Tara followed him. He placed the cage at the fountain's tiled edge.

"I'm glad you've found a way to change her back," Giles chose to say, more to Tara than to Willow. "I don't believe she's been very happy, and I was considering buying a bigger habitat for her." They stood a moment around the cage. "Well then!" Giles then commented, and stepped back for the witches to do their work.

"Kitten, she knows I'm undead, you'll have to handle her," Willow noted, stepping back for her witch to retrieve the frightened animal. She watched Kitten calm the little beast, then entice it out, the rat finally climbing into her hands. Willow smiled slightly.

The Watcher stared blankly for a moment. "Right!" he agreed. "Hang on! Don't do anything yet!" He disappeared once again into his unit. Tara cooed to Amy as the rat climbed in and out of her hands.

Willow didn't finish, as Kitten gave her one of her reproachful looks. "Just saying, is all, Kitten," Willow grinned. "The life of a rat is a simple one. We'll be returning her to a reality where her evil mom is trapped in a cheerleader's statuette and her dad is an absentee, travelin' salesman," she continued, as she watched Amy run to her Kitten's shoulder.

"I didn't do it, Kitten," Willow quickly denied. "Buffy did it. Or actually, Giles did it. I'll tell you about it later." The Watcher returned triumphant with a worn, terry cloth bath robe in his hands.

"Right!" he said, and stood at the ready with the robe. Willow took Kitten by the hand and with a gesture, easily moved the large cage off the fountain's edge with a bit of magic.

"Lay her there, Kitten," Willow indicated. "And tell her not to move. She'll listen to you." Kitten did as she was asked, placing Amy upon the fountain's edge and whispering to the sleek little creature. She stepped back as Willow's grip tightened briefly upon their clasped hands. This would be their first spell together.

"Kitten," was all Willow murmured. Already she could feel her Kitten's power reaching for her, as her own reached for her witch. Like a common conduit, they combined, perfectly, and Willow realized, there was no need for prompting, no need for guidance or words. Kitten was a true Natural. The power flared, and as one, they stared at the small animal that was Amy Madison. Giles felt the crackle, saw light, and smelled magic. He had to close his eyes briefly.

In a sudden flash, the rat was gone, and a naked, dark haired girl, teetering on all fours on the fountain's edge, remained in its place. Her blue eyes looked up, startled, at Willow.

"Amy!" Tara exclaimed, moving to help the splashing, panicked, nude girl. "Mr. Giles!"

"Amy," Willow observed pensively. "The last time I saw you, you were blonde. Since when did you decide to go dark?"

"We know," Giles said firmly, attempting to hold the robe out and avert his eyes for the girl's sake. Tara finally succeeded in helping a shivering Amy from the fountain. "It is indeed vampire Willow, and she helped break your self transformation spell." The Watcher's words, however, didn't seem to placate the former rat. Amy turned to Tara.

"You couldn't do it?" Amy asked her, almost accusatory. Tara shook her head, trying to aid Giles in wrapping the robe around the girl.

"I'm not powerful enough, Amy," Tara said, wondering at the wild look in the younger witch's eyes. And the way her nose twitched. Perhaps the sudden change had disorientated the unfortunate girl. "Willow had to help me." Amy suddenly noticed the silver bracelet on Tara's wrist. Shiny. She grabbed it and tried to look closely at the archaic words etched into the metal surface.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed, realizing what she was reading. She looked up at the English man she'd always thought of as their caretaker. "How could you let this happen?!" she accused.

"Amy – " Tara tried, realizing that the younger witch was becoming more distraught.

"Come, child, let's get you inside," Giles urged. Poor girl, he thought to himself. Odds were her clueless father was out of town, and therefore, out of touch, for the meantime.

"Kitten, I'll be at the car," Tara heard said abruptly behind her. Willow's footsteps faded from the courtyard.

When Tara glanced up at Mr. Giles, a worried look was evident in his pale eyes. She only smiled reassuringly and helped coax Amy into the Watcher's apartment.

As Tara finally hurried from the Watcher's courtyard, passing the ivy covered walls for the street, she felt herself roughly grabbed. A cool hand clapped over Tara's mouth, muffling her startled scream.

"How's the rat," she heard whispered into her ear. The fingers slowly left her mouth, allowing her to speak. Tara relaxed slightly, now falling willingly back into the possessive hold of her vampire.

"She's fine," she breathed, as she felt Willow's hand fall to twine fingers with Tara's own. An electrical charge sparked at the contact.

"I love doing magic with you, Kitten," Willow growled beneath her breath, licking her witch. She felt Kitten shiver.

"I love....doing it with you, too," Tara breathed back. And then she felt herself spun and pushed against the ivy covered wall, Willow's insistent hands upon her body.

"My witch!" Willow snarled into her chest, and Tara heard the distinct sound of the demonic change. "All mine!"

"Yes," Tara agreed. She felt her top ripped apart beneath her coat, and her bra pushed from her breasts. "Yours," she affirmed, then cried out as she felt Willow's fangs sink into her breast. "All yours," she gasped, and trembled beneath the sharp bite of her vampire's possessive mouth.

They lay in the car, the top rolled down. They were parked at one of Sunnydale's lesser populated look out points, having long left the Watcher's home. The town twinkled its lights below them, and the stars winked theirs, in the black night sky above them. Willow was conscientious to a highly obsessive degree, for a vampire, but she doubted anyone could fault her for always keeping a heavy, warm blanket stored in her car's back seat. It was there, in case one had to do some foot traveling in the sun, of course.

Kitten breathed beside her, snuggled close beneath the blanket. Her exhales misted the air.

"Comfty, Kitten?" Willow asked. Kitten nodded. "If you get too cold, let me know. I can't really tell, cos I'm dead." She saw Kitten grin, but her girl only nodded. Willow sighed happily, her dead chest working, and returned to gazing at the stars. It was just as Kitten had said; that constellation did look like 'Moose In BathTub'.

"'Kitten's Bra Cup'," she announced, pointing at a star grouping. Her witch burst out laughing beside her. "I can't help it if I see your boobs everywhere, Kitten. I'm a breast girl. It's in my nature," she said smugly. "Of course my most favorite place is – " Willow searched the stars. Then she pointed. "Kitten's – " she was about to proclaim.

"Okay, okay," her witch hurriedly interrupted, laying a hand on the vampire's arm. "L-Let's not name that um, constellation, out loud, okay?"

"If you say so, Kitten," Willow pouted. "But you can see the 'Bra Cup', can't you?" She pointed for Kitten again, who, now frowning in concentration, sighted along her arm. Willow made a little curvy gesture. "See? And the two bright stars just above?" She waited for Kitten to nod before continuing. "Those are my teeth marks," she said proudly. Her witch erupted in laughter again.

"Vixen," Kitten sighed when her mirth had died away, and nuzzled Willow. The vampire thought to herself; she had never been this happy before with a kitten or puppy. Never. Tara was her very special one.

They watched the stars. Willow searched them idly, looked at 'Kitten's Bra Cup' fondly, and wondered; if they should spy a falling star, what would she wish for?

"I want to give something to you," she heard Kitten murmur beside her. Willow's ears perked slightly at this. She was the one who took care of her kittens, not the other way around. True, her witch had taken care of her in many ways since becoming hers, but mostly at Willow's behest. Something freely given to the vampire was something...new.

"Something more than what I gave your Sanctum," her witch further murmured. "I can give it to you," she said more firmly, as if convincing herself, rather than trying to convince the vampire she was snug against.

Willow's mouth quirked. "Is it going to hurt?" she asked innocently. Kitten rose on an elbow to look at her, her own mouth quirking.

"You wish," she said disapprovingly. Her sexy half smile broadened, and Willow giggled.

"Move up a little more, Kitten," Willow growled. She slid down upon the broad back seat so that she could lie flat under her witch and the heavy blanket that surrounded them. "I wanna give you something right now." Happily, Willow watched as Kitten moved to hover above her, her breasts through the torn top easily swaying. Willow laved the brief, twin wounds on Kitten's right breast and then tackled the nipples she was hungry for.

"Ah, mmph," Tara whimpered, and inhaled deeply through her nose. Soon, Willow's eager attentions will have her moaning. She felt the vampire's cool hands push her long skirt up and an insistent, flexed thigh press between her legs. Tara's own thighs squeezed around it, pushing herself against the leather clad muscle. She began to move, and it wasn't long before her needy whimpers turned to frantic gasps. Willow's mouth, tongue, teeth, demanded every possible, exquisite response from her breasts. Her sensual moans heightened – quickened – with her deliriously mounting pleasure. Willow suddenly squeezed her breasts together, hard, and sucked both of her into her cool mouth at once.

"Uh – umph – Will – WILLOW!!" Tara screamed as she came, taut and explosive. Her thighs squeezed convulsively, then gave up their death grip upon Willow's. She shuddered and collapsed upon the slender body beneath her. The last sounds of her ecstatic cry echoed and re-echoed into the valley below.

"Oh baby, oh baby," Willow cooed, as her warm, soft Kitten trembled in her arms. "My sweet Kitten." That one, the vampire thought smugly to herself, as her witch gasped hotly against her neck. That one definitely got heard all over Sunnydale.

Willow did, for about a nano second. She popped one glittering green eye open, suspiciously.

"Willow," her witch chastised, smiling. They were in the woods that edged Sunnydale, and this was the evening when Kitten was going to give her vampire that special 'something'. Dusk had already fallen, but it wasn't suspicion of her witch that kept Willow uncooperative. She just didn't want her girl out here in the woods at night. Even if with her. Hellmouth, you know.

"It'll be all right. The place is hardly that far. And," Willow watched with her one eye as Kitten whispered. A tiny magic light appeared. "I'll be able to see where we're going. Okay?"

Willow forced her dead chest to give a sigh. The sooner she placated Kitten, the sooner they left the woods. "Okay, Kitten. Closing eyes now." She was certain she could feel her witch smile. Warm hands took hold of hers.

And Willow, eyes shut, placed one foot slowly after the other, and did as she was asked.

The extrasensory perceptions of a vampire kicked in, which was probably what her witch counted on. Willow's keen hearing picked up every tiny sound made by the trees, air, and ground, and of course, every breath and steady beat of Kitten's heart. She sensed the warmth radiating from the presence leading her gently by the hands, and upon her tongue she tasted that familiar mix of peace and magic so comfortably her witch's. Kitten began to speak.

"Goddess is present in all things," her gentle, pretty voice said. "Everything seen and unseen, that is She. Her blood is the Thread of Life. It is these Threads that weave through our existence, and our world."

This was the first time Kitten had named her Goddess out loud, and Willow knew why. It was her secret religion, whispered from mother to daughter. Wicca she may be, with other casual WannaBlessedBe's, but in her heart, the vampire knew her witch held her Goddess with the utmost, intimate reverence. To speak of Her was to speak of Important things. Willow trembled with excitement at what Kitten was sharing, but now was not the time to indulge in such glee. She needed to pay attention to what her witch was telling her.

"Goddess is also Death. To know life, is to know destruction. To live, is to die. This is our cycle. This is the Balance."

"But I walk in shadow," Willow protested quietly. She walked, eyes still closed. "I am the Damned, for I am Death incarnate, yet I live. I have no cycle. I do not have the blessing of the Balance." She did not mean to dispute Kitten, but it was true.

"Death and Life is the Goddess," her witch said firmly. "By your nature you are cursed to walk outside the balance. But any who consider themselves strayed and irrevocably lost, consider themselves perhaps, um, a-a little too special." And Willow could hear the smile in Kitten's voice. She pouted slightly in response. "All is She, even when one is Fallen. The threads to Her are there, you just cannot see. You only need eyes."

Kitten was leading her around in a circle now, a tight path upon level ground. The path became a spiral. Willow smelled flowers, felt the gentle movement of air and heard the rustle of the trees. Life, her Kitten had said. She had seen its parents, the atom builders of Life. She had been the conduit for them, when magic coursed through her at her bidding and will. Lightning, fire, water – she had felt those things. But the gift of Life itself, allowed in her body only for the fleeting moment it took to enjoy pulsing hot blood pouring into her throat...the gift of Life was not what she, damned vampire, was allowed to touch. Not until Kitten had showed it to her, flourishing – Becoming – in her own sanctum.

"Eyes," Willow breathed, eyes shut, as she felt herself now spinning, warm, firm hands her only anchor.

"My eyes, your eyes," she heard her Kitten whisper. "What I know, you shall know. My life – "

"No Kitten!" Willow interrupted, and the spin of their bodies ended, the air pregnant with expectancy and magic. It was as if they stood upon a precipice – the revealing of a Secret just a word away. "It will work both ways. You mustn't see what I can see." she said fearfully. "And have seen."

"It will be worth it. Willow," and she felt her hands squeezed. Such capable, quietly reassuring hands. "I want to give you your connection back."

And at the completion of the spell, Willow felt awareness enter her, from the soles of her feet to the very tip of every hair strand. Her eyes flew open –

And saw, what Kitten could see. The world, in Glorious colors – she stood between broad sky and broad earth like a little Titan and saw – the world, the World in technicolor radiance.

Not just touching, not just seeing, Feeling now, Feeling Everything, every wormy wiggle, every chlorophyll corpuscle, Willow was on a multi aura-singing consciousness-doo da Goddess Experience. She giggled out loud, ecstatic, then moaned in awe. She watched every single thing around her pulse and speak and she began speaking in tongues back. Leaves could talk! They whispered, they sang! Over the leaves she heard the stars, and over the stars she heard the winds, but above all their songs there was something else, something so Important, she had to fall silent. She stood utterly still, and listened, and listened, and finally Heard. And finally Felt.

Threads, of earth, and sky, and tides. Of all that breathed and all that sighed, and even of that which was silent and Null. Willow stood and felt a planet as she had never felt it before.

"I'm here, Kitten," Willow breathed. "I'm Here, and I'm grounded. I exist in the Web. I feel the Threads." She closed her eyes.

Slowly, the ecstasy of Connection faded, but its bare thread anchor, now firmly rooted in Willow, remained. She felt the world through that thread and no longer felt lost in shadow. She was a killer, she had purpose, and the hunger that could never be truly sated now felt some sense of...peace. Peace like her Kitten.

Willow opened her eyes. The world was – felt 'normal' once more. But it was more than just that, and what had always been out of reach of her perceptions – that subconscious Life connection – was now hers, thanks to her Kitten. Willow looked around for her witch.

When Willow found her, her pet had strayed from the clearing where earth and sky met so perfectly. Kitten sat curled in a hollow. She was weeping.

"Darling," Willow cried softly, going quickly to her witch. Thankfully, Kitten accepted the comfort of her arms. How forgiving can her girl be?

"What did you see," Willow asked, and her dead heart broke to see the sorrow in Kitten's tearful blue eyes.

"You," Kitten whispered hoarsely. She wept more, and all Willow could do was hold her close. "You destroyed worlds," Kitten softly cried.

"I did," Willow affirmed softly. She did not know it, but an actual tear left her eyes. It was followed by another. "But you gave them back to me."

Tara knew, that as much as Willow doted on her during the cherished times that seemed like 'dates', there would always come that flip side to their relationship – their 'arrangement' – where Willow was Master and Tara was her pretty, yet highly valued possession. This was the actual reality of being a master vampire's Pet, and the times Willow spent with her during the day and occasional night, just being, well, Willow, her playmate, her...friend, were the indulgences. Tara had managed to read more of Mr. Giles' books since her tea time visit with the Watcher. Willow, in comparison to the master vampires described within those books, was unlike any who had kept a Pet. Tara could not help but feel grateful for her unique vampire. She was strongly motivated now to fulfill her part as Willow's Pet as best as she could. It was more or less an easy role. Listen to Master, please her, Be Good. The directives were awfully broad, but she would learn.

It was the fifth night of Harmony's reign of terror upon the vampire inhabitants of Sunnydale. Willow was very pleased. They had just had their coffee 'date', where Willow had nearly scared her witch witless by blatantly sitting out in the sun. Now it was evening, and they were both in the vampire's sanctum. Willow was studying her phantom map of Sunnydale, easily rearranging the colors indicated upon it with merely her thoughts. Tara could never keep the meanings of the color codes straight. Red for instance, indicated what Willow controlled. Pink represented what needed Harm's attention. Tara could understand 'red' for Willow, but 'pink' for Harmony? Colors were definitely a secret Willow language.

"Come, Harm," Willow suddenly said. The double doors swished open, and the blonde vampire strolled in. She stopped near Willow and placed her hands at rest behind her.

"Felix was in the Order, wasn't he?" Willow merely asked, bright green eyes still studying her projected map.

Willow only nodded. She moved away from the map projection and towards her desk, where she had left Tara seated upon the edge of the translucent surface. She nuzzled her witch's neck thoughtfully.

"Remember my feelings about giving sanctuary?" Willow then asked, straightening.

"Right," Willow agreed, turning her head to smile at Harmony. "However, as the head of your own little Family, you have the option to, Harm, if that's what you want."

Harm frowned her 'pensive frown' while she watched her boss run teasing fingers along her Pet's exposed thigh.

"I see what you're saying," Harm finally said slowly. "But it's my ass on the line if I vouch to you for whomever."

"Exactly," Willow confirmed, as she began to nibble along her Pet's throat. Tara could not help herself, she shivered.

"That's good thinking, Harm." Willow encouraged with a little smile. She picked up a paper from her desk and handed it to the blonde vampire. "You have one other nest to hit before Felix's. I'm going to make an appearance at Giano's. I'll probably be approached there."

"Thanks Wills." The blonde vampire was already moving with a purpose for the sanctum's doors just as Willow began kissing her Kitten in earnest.

"Rrrr," Willow growled, when she finally ended the brief session of kissage. Tara could tell then, that Willow was very pleased. "Time to go to Giano's, Kitten."

Tara suspected that Willow's demonstrative sexual display was not so much a statement like, 'me master, me have toy', but more like a subtle test for those witnessing the display. Harmony was always all business when in the presence of Willow playing with her Kitten. Not so much as an 'eww' came from the blonde vampire. Her boss and her Kitten could very well be playing pinocle on the desk rather than dueling tongues, for all Harmony cared. Tara just hoped Willow wouldn't take the petting display any further. The breast fondling – so far only in Harmony's presence, thank goodness – she could handle, sort of, but if Willowhand strayed any lower, Tara would have to have a very private talk with her vampire.

"Ready, Kitten?" she heard Willow call from the shared bath suite. Her vampire stood in the doorway, openly admiring the blonde witch as she smoothed the dress she'd put on. Tara was going to have to shop for more clothes soon – this was the third night they had appeared at Giano's. Last night, Harmony's clean up work finally gained the attention of what was left of the vampire population. A bleeder's club owner had approached Willow's table, and after some very polite supplications, offered Willow a percentage of her club's profits. Willow graciously accepted. The club owner – a vampire herself – barely gave Tara a glance – but in a very respectful way. It was hardly even snobby. It was then that Tara realized that perhaps her presence as a Pet helped Willow gauge the character of whoever sought her out.

Tonight, after they had arrived and been seated at their customary booth table, the waiter approached with a bottle.

"A gift, from the table over there," the waiter politely indicated. Willow glanced in the table's direction, then nodded.

"I accept," she simply said, and resumed placing a forkful of penne pasta in her Pet's mouth. The waiter deftly poured a glass of blood from the bottle, placed it in a warmer, then left the table. As Willow picked up her glass and savored the fresh, virginal blood – expensive stuff, that – two demons approached from the table indicated earlier.

"Master Willow," the shorter of the demons addressed politely. The demons, to Tara's bemusement, looked alot like the satyrs of Greek myth – though she had no idea that they could be so large, and also have such huge, curling horns – like rams. These demon 'satyrs' wore business suits and looked very professional – despite their goat's legs.

"I am Niko, my master is Theslokos, whose business is the management of the docks," Niko began.

"Please be seated, Niko," Willow invited graciously. The demon bowed and did so, across from Willow. The vampire picked up the fork and resumed feeding Tara.

"Theslokos would have liked to have met you himself, but he has been, regrettably, detained in San Francisco for the past few days. He would like to extend his belated welcome to the new Master of Sunnydale, and his positive support."

Willow briefly put the fork down to look at Niko directly, her eyes bright. "Theslokos is an excellent master of the docks. I also regret not meeting him at this time. It is my hope that we may continue the beneficial relationship he had created with the previous Master."

Niko nodded. "I will certainly relay your words to him. Please accept this gift then, from the master of the docks to the vampire master of Sunnydale. It is a ship's manifest. Choose anything of its cargo, and we will deliver it to you." The satyr-like demon then produced a thick manifest and placed it before Willow. It looked practically sixty pages long.

"No need," Willow interrupted gently. She slid the thick cargo log over to Tara. "Kitten," Willow simply said.

Tara suppressed the urge to gulp. She looked briefly down at the first page of the manifest. The names 'Lexus', 'Mercedes', and 'Volvo' leapt at her eyes.

Oh my god, was all Tara's mind could utter. She looked up at her vampire, and Willow merely smirked, sipping from her wine glass. The satyr demons were also watching her. Okay.....okay then, thought Tara. She did the simplest thing; she took a deep, calming breath.

She closed her eyes, and moved her right hand, palm down, to hover over the manifest. The pages flipped to life. Rapidly, they turned – page after page listing all sorts of goods and cargo – then stopped. Tara's hand fell and her pointing finger rested lightly upon one particular entry. She opened her eyes, but before she could read what her finger had chosen Willow had pulled the manifest from beneath her hand and was already presenting the chosen page to Niko.

"This, for my Kitten," Willow stated, indicating a cargo entry with a finger. Niko actually smiled, his stiff goaty beard jutting at the action.

"It will be done," he said, standing. He and his fellow demon bowed to Willow, and then, to Tara's surprise, bowed to her. When the demons had left, Willow looked at her, eyes sparkling.

Tara shook her head yet again. She placed a hand on one of Willow's knees and squeezed. It was the signal they worked out for when Tara wanted permission to speak.

"They have custard pie. Don't you want any dessert, Kitten? I want to get you something sinful, cuz you've been such a good Kitty!" Willow enthused, leaning in and rubbing her nose with Tara's.

Well, Willow, if you would just give me permission to talk, I'd tell you! Tara thought crossly as she squeezed the vampire's knee again.

"Not now, Kitten, we're about to have company," her vampire murmured into her ear. Tara then heard some sort of commotion coming up the stairwell. Two men appeared, pushing past the pursuing maitre d' who tried to cut them off.

"Master Willow!" one of the men addressed, and fell to his knees beside the booth. Because of the table's height, Tara could not see where the man went. The other man with him also fell to his knees.

"Fine. go," Willow stated. The maitre d' instantly understood and left the table.

"Master, I am Felix, who once served in the Great Order until our glorious Father's untimely destruction," Felix said, raising his dark head. Tara mused; Harmony was right, major boot lickage.

"We have heard of how your wrath seeks to cleanse this town of the masterless. We wish to pledge our loyalty and lives to your Family."

Willow sipped her blood, watching the kneeling minions with glittering, cold eyes, and said nothing.

Felix's eyes bugged at his horrible error. In the Aurelius Order, all were one Family under the Father, otherwise known as the Master. Any childe or elder vampire was addressed as 'sire' by the minions, no matter who had Made them. Willow's ego, apparently, resented being stroked that way.

"Nor do I give Sanctuary," he heard the slender redhead quietly add. She was truly iced fury personified, now. Felix literally saw his death in the glittering emeralds that stared down upon him.

In a frightened daze, he watched the Master turn her attention from him and motion for the waiter. Her final words clicked and he suddenly understood.

"Thank you!" he babbled, his forehead practically hitting the floor. "Thank you, Master!"

No thank you, Willow, Tara mentally declined. You scared me so much just now I might throw up. The young woman, however, nodded instead with a little smile, and the waiter took his leave. Maybe with a little pantomime, she could convince Willow to eat half of it.

"Give his place a half an hour, then hit it," Willow was speaking into her phone. "I leave his fate up to you." She clicked off, and then smiled at her Kitten.

The next day, Tara went to her classes, had a lovely picnic under the old oak with Willow, and then went home with her to prepare for another evening out at Giano's. Now that Willow knew Tara could read a vampire's aura, she wanted her Kitten to look at the auras of those who approached her. Once at Giano's they were shown to their usual booth.

"Kitten, I'm asking you to do a really major spell in my Sanctum tonight," Willow said with a slight frown. "Do you need to eat heavy, or do you need to eat light?"

"Light, please," Tara breathed. Willow gave her the menu. She chose a seafood soup that she knew would be mostly broth.

"Dawdle over your meal, Kitten," Willow instructed, as she pulled out her silver case and fetched a cigarette. Against California law, Willow lit up. A waiter hurried over with an ashtray. "We need to be here a while."

Tara was relieved that Willow did not attempt to hand feed her the soup. While she ate, slow enough to frustrate a saint, Willow chatted and smoked. Finally, the vampire suggested dessert. Tara bit her lip.

"Gelato?" Willow enticed. "They've just made a fresh flavor." Tara nodded politely. She didn't realize that being a Pet required that she eat even when she wasn't hungry. Willow, despite being a vampire, was conscientious enough to remember that Tara was human and needed food. It was enjoyable on their 'dates' of course, but as Pet duty it was getting tedious. Perhaps she was just tiring of Italian.

It was while Tara was being spoon fed the dessert that two vampires finally entered the dining area and approached Willow.

"Master Willow," addressed an extremely pale and painfully thin man. He had long, lanky hair and haggard, sharp features, and Tara took an instant dislike to him. His companion, a hulking, thick necked vampire, had the look of a human gorilla. Tara only briefly viewed their auras, as Willow had desired her to. She witnessed only oily black, as was the usual case with unimpressive vampires. She obediently ate another bite of gelato from the spoon in Willow's hand. To her surprise, the gorilla could not keep his eyes off her.

"I am Arnie. I own the bleeder's bar on Third and Wilkens," the thin vampire stated. Willow had to explain what a 'bleeder' was to Tara after the bleeder's club owner had approached them. The idea that people would actually consent to be fed from by vampires, and even pay for the act, was an idea that the witch had to get used to. Her opinion of the thin man continued to lower. Third and Wilkens was a very seedy area.

"I had a very good relationship with the Master previous. We had an understanding. I hope that you and I may continue to have such a relationship," Arnie said in what Tara guessed he approximated as a respectful tone. She watched as Willow raised the dessert spoon once more. Tara obediently took the spoon into her mouth. This time she felt two pairs of male vampire eyes bore into her. Uh Oh.

"I've heard enough," Willow said pleasantly. Not once had she graced the two vampires with even a look, being preoccupied with feeding her Pet instead. Arnie stood a moment, and somehow managed to look even paler. He nodded with a quick jerk and then headed rapidly for the stairs, his befuddled gorilla following quickly behind. Willow fed Tara the last of the gelato, then pulled out her phone.

"Arnie's, bleeder's bar on Third and Wilkens," she spoke quietly. "Take everything. Kill him." She clicked off.

The next night, they de-ratted Amy and drove to the look out point. Tara was very glad they didn't have to go to Giano's. Especially when Willow effectively destroyed the top she was wearing.

"Oh, Harm's work will be done by tonight, Kitten," Willow told her, as she drove the Impala down the windy mountain road back to Sunnydale. She had put the roof back on at the look out point and now had the heater on full blast for her Kitten. "From now on, we're keeping a low profile. I don't want the White Hats to know just yet that I'm Master, you see," Willow confided. "I want to continue managing the town as I see fit without, say, the Slayer's input. Or Angel-dad's."

"Angel is a total pariah to the demon community, Kitten. He's so out of the loop he has to beat info out of Willie – Willie is the human who owns the demon bar called Willie's," Willow added, for Kitten's benefit. "But Harm has already relayed my wishes to Willie that nothing be shared concerning me and mine." Willow pursed her lips then in thought.

Harmony had cleaned up the town for her, and the demon community now knew Willow was establishing herself as Master. The next challenge will surely be the outsider vampires who might wish to move in and establish some territory on the Hellmouth. Harmony, quite wisely for the blonde, had spared Felix and a few of his fellow minions, so he would be useful for keeping an ear to the ground. The Slayers and their White Hats can be kept busy protecting the Hellmouth from any wacky threats, leaving Willow free to be Master and run her businesses. Well, businesses, plural, as soon as she found out about a certain magic shop and finally re-opened the Bronze. She would almost say that, especially with Kitten, unlife was looking really good, except of course, she was trying to have an unlife on the Hellmouth.

"I'm, um, not very good at lying," she heard her Kitten say – almost miserably.

Willow glanced at her Kitten briefly – briefly because she was still trying to get them safely down the mountain by keeping a close eye on the road – and saw how distressed her witch was. Poor Kitty!

"Well," she mused slowly, thinking for a moment. "You could just tell them the truth then, Kitten."

"The truth is, Kitten, that you are not allowed to speak about Willow's business, and that is that," Willow smirked. She chanced another glance and could see understanding dawn in her witch's blue eyes.

"I'll say that then," Tara smiled, utterly relieved. "How do you do that?" she suddenly asked quietly.

Tara reached a hand out, placing it behind Willow's head, and played with her vampire's soft hair.

That night, the gift from the demon master of the docks arrived. Willow pulled her Impala into her driveway, and Tara noted curiously that there was a new vehicle there. A brand new vehicle.

"Visitors?" she asked, as she wrapped her coat tighter around her. It felt funny being partially nude under her coat. With a steadying breath, she stepped out of the Impala.

"No, baby," Willow grinned, as she ran around her car. She flung the door open of the new vehicle, stepped up inside to the driver's seat and scooped up something. She tossed them to Tara. The witch easily caught them and opened her hands. Car keys.

"F-F-For," Tara stammered. She stared in amazement at the jet black, utility vehicle. "B-But i-i-it's..."

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Willow supplied. She ran her appreciative gaze over it. "'Military' isn't quite my taste, and I didn't think it was yours either, but you did pick it out of the manifest. Look, it's got all the nifty outdoorsy stuff!" The vampire took her witch's hand and led her around the vehicle. "Trailer hitch, grille guards, big ol' honkin' road lamps." The vampire hopped up on the guard rail. "Roof rack – oo! Moon roof! And I think – " Willow reached to open the passenger side and stuck her head in. "Yes, I did see some sorta GPS thing. We're going to have to read up on how to use that, Kitten." The vampire suddenly scrambled inside and disappeared.

"Yeah baby?" Willow queried, sticking her head back outside. She had clambered quick as a little vampire into and out of the back seat, looking to see if one of those weird new entertainment centers was included.

"Oh, but it's the H2, baby," Willow clarified, jumping back out again. "It's all sleeky streamlined yet still 'grr' army," she emphasized with a cute snarl. "You can park it in regular parking spots, like at school and stuff!" Willow proclaimed proudly.

"Wha? Oh Kitten!" Willow exclaimed, rushing to her witch's side as she burst into tears. Tara sobbed into her hands, still clutching the keys.

"It-s too much, it's – " Willow heard her girl sob. "I don't – deserve – "

"Oh, Kitten, of course you do," Willow tried to soothe, but frankly, she was a bit at a loss at how to deal with this kind of reaction to the gift. Were these happy tears? They didn't sound like happy tears. When Willow could finally get her witch inside the mansion and away from her prezzie, she tried the next best thing.

It was the morning after the night of look out point. Tara had not visited Buffy since last Friday. She had been too busy with trying to attend her classes, do her schoolwork, train as a Pet, spend 'date' time with her Willow-friend, and then be a Pet in public for her Willow Master. Anya had been right, Willow took up alot of Tara-time, but it didn't mean Tara couldn't try to make time for her other friends. That is, if Buffy still remained her friend.

"So she is setting up as Master of Sunnydale," Buffy decided. The morning sun shone bright on the Slayer, sitting slightly upright in her hospital bed, but the young girl hadn't minded the warm light. Buffy still retained that golden tan of hers, and her aura was fierce once again. Being partially paralyzed did not humble the Slayer spirit, or the inherent power.

"Or maybe not," Buffy frowned. "What is she up to?" the small blonde murmured to herself. Angel had been no help, even though he beat up Willie for info. It was infuriating because Willow wasn't making any big evil splashes like normal evil masterminds would. Buffy didn't like not knowing what was really going on.

"Buffy, I'm so glad to see the cast is off," she heard Tara say, obviously trying to change the subject.

"No kidding. My back's all healed up and not in two pieces anymore. Cool, huh? I can't wait to go home tomorrow."

"Yep." Buffy pressed a button beside her, and the hospital bed slowly straightened out again. "I've been doing this since I woke up," Buffy grinned, pressing for the bed to slowly rise and set her in a semi seated position again. "It's great."

"I've been taking it easy for weeks," Buffy pouted. "Okay, for about two weeks. Enough time for a certain evil Willow to hatch all manner of nefarious schemes?" the Slayer questioned.

Tara just grinned. "Um. I think you're going to get very tired of me saying – "

"'I'm not allowed to speak about Willow's business'," Buffy recited with Tara. "Okay, okay. Hey, can't blame me for trying. I just worry." Especially about evil vampires who are pretending they are not doing evil things! the petite Slayer mentally grumbled.

"So," Buffy then said, as she pressed for the bed to descend again. "What's the 'Tara-status'?"

"Haven't seen you for a couple of days. Are you still off the Willow dinner menu? Still currently untortured? Still have your sanity intact?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure I can answer yes to the first two, but you'll have to be the judge on the third."

"You're looking good," Buffy said pensively. "I mean, happy-good. That is so weird because Willow's got no soul and is an evil, people eating monster. That she's able to lie to you so completely in order to give you this kind of happy-good just freaks me out."

"And do you realize...that freaks me out more?" Buffy commented lightly, but her hazel eyes were serious – and seriously concerned. Tara could understand. A Slayer has to live with black and white rules. Vampire bad, Buffy must stake. To think in gray would compromise a Slayer's purpose. She would not be able to unquestionably do what she was born to do.

And Buffy, Tara realized, despite the realities of her injuries, was actually reluctant to relinquish her Slayer duty, even though Kendra was now here.

"Don't worry, Buffy," Tara comforted, reaching out to caress the small blonde's hair. "Please don't worry. It's not as complicated as you think, really. Sometimes, some things really are the way they look. Even if they are kind of unbelievable," Tara added gently.

"Okay," Buffy said, the frown of worry still on her young face. "I mean, it's still hard for me to believe...that. But, okay."

Tara smiled gratefully. Buffy tried so hard. Not unlike a certain vampire, Tara realized. She was happy that Buffy and Willow, in their own separate ways, tried so hard. They both strove to work beyond the limitations they were born, or unborn, into. Tara privately looked forward to the blonde slayer – hopefully someday soon – rising above black and white, now that Kendra was here.

"Um, would it cheer you up if I told you a story?" Tara suddenly offered, giving Buffy an almost sly grin.

"Oo! Story? Yes!" Buffy agreed, her good humor back at hearing the witch's suggestion. The bed hummed as she raised it into a gentle incline position again.

"I think so. Once upon a time, there was a Willow shaped cookie cutter. It was a wonderful little cookie cutter, because it was made of copper. It made lots and lots of good little Willow cookies."

"One day, though, a Drusilla cookie came along and punched out the soul center of a good Willow cookie. And that punch put some demon dough in its place."

"The demon dough overwhelmed the Willow shaped cookie until you couldn't see the Willow shape anymore, and made the poor cookie run around and eat other cookies and set fires and stuff."

"Demon Willow cookie, though, did an interesting thing. She began to learn magic, and magic takes lots of time and concentration. The demon center of the Willow cookie couldn't run around going 'grr arg' and eat other cookies and do magic at the same time. It had to sit down and be quiet and then magic happened. The more magic it did, the quieter the demon dough center became, until it got kinda, um, content. The cookie then acted less like a demon cookie and more like a Willow cookie again."

"But it's still an evil cookie," Buffy said. "It still has a evil doughy center."

"With magic," Buffy emphasized. "A magical, evil cookie. A magical, evil Master of Sunnydale cookie."

Buffy suddenly laughed in delight, and Tara was buoyed by the happy sound. Not only did it brighten the Slayer's demeanor so wonderfully, removing the care and burden of her calling, but it also made Tara realize that she had never heard Buffy laugh before. Then, just as suddenly, Buffy frowned. a playful frown, Tara hoped.

"Well, the evil Willow cookie met a Tara cookie, and decided that was more fun than being evil most of the time, so it became even more Willow shaped looking."

"Yes. Because the demon dough in the Willow cookie doesn't want to eat the Tara cookie. The End."

Buffy opened her mouth again, about to start a 'no so' 'yes so' fest, then thoughtfully shut it.

"Today," Buffy stated, now looking at Tara with serious, hazel eyes. "Can she come by today?"

Buffy relaxed into her bed and reflected on cookies and their evil doughy centers.

Tara pressed the security button on her key chain, and her humvee chirped in its underground parking space beneath the hospital.

Before she opened the door, she passed a hand almost reverently over the door handle. Chrome accents. She finally entered the driver's seat. Earlier this morning at the mansion, she had walked around the hummer, admiring it, then climbed inside and slowly looked at everything. She was surprised when Willow hadn't joined her. She could imagine her enthused vampire going over every feature and trying out every button. Willow had probably wanted – thankfully – to give her Kitten time alone with her new car. It was much appreciated alone-time, because Tara was still so overwhelmed by her new possession.

Hers. The Goddess could forgive Tara for dawdling in the hospital lot for a while, in a blissful daze because she was listening to the powerful engine start up and purr.

"Willow!!" Tara screamed in the driver's seat, nearly hitting the roof – which was hard to do, as it was quite high, and she did already fasten her seat belt. "A-Are you really back there?" Tara fearfully asked. She looked immediately into the rear view mirror, even though she knew quite well that Willow wouldn't reflect in it.

"Uh huh. Did you see the dvd player and entertainment monitor back here, Kitten? I think it's extravagant! But I enjoyed it all the same." And then her vampire laughed.

"How did? How?" It was amazing how her vampire always kept her off balance. And shouldn't that same vampire still be in bed? Sleeping? She heard something electronic whir in the the back seat. Willow was obviously playing with something.

"Oh, I snuck in this morning while you were looking under the hood, Kitten. I wanted to see if the dvd player worked okay. Which it did. Then I laid down for a while and took a nap. Ho Hum," Willow then said, yawning loudly. "These seats are comfty. We should have sex back here."

"N-Now?" Tara exclaimed, finally craning her neck around to look at Willow. Her vampire was lounged in the back, looking suitably sexy in a flimsy rayon shirt and her trademark tight leather pants. She had her arms flung out over the seats and a leg propped up.

"Are you in the mood, baby?" her vampire leered at her. Coming from an angelic face like Willow's, it was a very cute leer. "Cos there are three sets of seats that need breaking in."

"Um," was all Tara could say. She couldn't believe how tempting the offer looked. She turned hastily back to the steering wheel. Now was a good time to just start driving. She put the hummer in reverse and pulled out of her parking space. As she negotiated her way out of the underground lot, music suddenly soared, with a deep orchestral sound. Wow, the speakers sounded excellent.

"Six cd changer, Kitten!" Willow exclaimed from the back. When the music abruptly changed, six times, Tara grinned. Yep, can't keep her vampire away from the buttons.

"Howsit handling for you, Kitten? This thing is kind of big," Willow then asked, as she reached from the back to stick a cd into the player on the dash.

"Oh, it's perfect," Tara murmured, already in tune with the large vehicle. It was a little too suburban for her taste, with all the interior luxury doo dads, but it did resemble, in its utilitarian exterior, something of a butchy dream on wheels. Tara's butch fantasy on wheels had tended to be more along the lines of a rugged Chevy pick up. But the Hummer? Very nice.

Willow played with the radio, then finally decided to wriggle over from the back and take the passenger seat beside her witch.

"Do you know which button's the moon roof, Kitten? I don't wanna accidentally press it and get fried."

"God, I'm so glad the windows are already tinted," Tara muttered to herself. Even the front windshield was suitably dark enough for a vampire, thank goodness. "Do you think a hummer comes with a child lock, Willow?"

"I'm going to drive to the park," Tara suddenly decided, grinning. "It's a beautiful day, and parking by the lake would be nice."

Willow watched impatiently from the safety of the humvee's interior. A snack shack stood by the lake, and her Kitten finally left it to return to the car.

"Okay," Tara said, as she quickly got in and closed her door against the sunlight. "I got you a pink popcorn," she said, handing the brick shaped snack to her vampire.

"And a monkey juice drink," Tara added. She gave the redhead a transparent plastic monkey filled with purple juice. A red straw was stuck out of its head.

"They sell these in the zoo too!" Willow enthused. "Whatcha get for you, Kitten?"

"A hippo," Tara declared, showing her a green, hippo shaped drink. "And a soft pretzel."

Tara thought a moment. "Because they sit peaceful like buddhas under the water all day. And blow bubbles."

"I think they're very dangerous," the vampire solemnly declared. "They look sleepy eyed and soft, but that's a trick. They can eat a monkey, snap! Just like that!"

Tara's lovely mouth suddenly lifted a corner in a sexy Tara-snarl, revealing a little white teeth.

"Yes they can," she agreed, with a distinct, low rumble to her words, and Willow actually shivered. Ooo, Mistress Kitty! She made a mental note to herself to get Kitten to top her in the bedroom again.

"Kitten, can you add a little something to my monkey?" Willow asked, in a very breathy little girl voice. She hoped the question sounded suitably, innocently lewd, and from the look of her Kitten's laughing blue eyes, she knew she succeeded. Kitten obliged her request by offering her hand.

Willow broke out into the demon and then, very gently, took two of her Kitten's fingers into her mouth. She nicked each with a fang. Her witch placed the pricked fingers over the open monkey drink, allowing drops of blood to fall in. When the blood flow stopped, Willow, still demon faced, took the cut digits into her mouth again, soothing the tiny wounds with her tongue. Her witch slowly withdrew her wet fingers.

An empty plastic hippo and an empty plastic monkey sat on the dash. Willow had placed them in all manner of sexual positions, but Tara finally took them away and sat them upright and proper, ending her vampire's fun. Both young women relaxed quietly then, watching idly as small school children had lunch by the lake and then began to play.

Tara had figured out why she had cried last night when she had seen the Hummer. It was kind of complicated, but it had to do with kids. The H2 was like an army style answer to the family SUV. Why else have something installed as extraneous as a dvd player? It certainly wasn't there for curious vampires.

Tara had thought, when she was so convinced that she would become a demon, that she might not ever have children. She didn't want to give her own daughter such a curse. But now her dark heritage was fading further into myth, and reality was given back to her. The family friendly Hummer seemed like a promise, one never hoped for, and now so freely given. It had seemed to say to her, yes Tara, you can have this too. So when she had seen the dream offered, she had cried.

"What do you see when you see children, Willow?" Tara asked quietly, as they watched the kids run and play.

"Um," Willow hemmed. She then hawed. "Various sounds of hesitation," she murmured off handedly, stalling.

Tara turned to her. "It's okay," her witch smiled encouragingly. "I know you're a fiend."

"Snacks," Willow said abruptly. There, she said it. And she wasn't going to feel self conscious about that truth. Much.

"Oh, heck that's different!" Willow blew from her mouth. "That's so, so very different, Kitten. They would be mine, just as you are." The vampire was wondering just a little desperately where this conversation had come from. She was trying very hard to remember how 'family' was seen in human terms, as compared to how she saw Family.

"Yours, um, how?" Tara asked weakly. She had never considered that answer. It was a little frightening.

"Mine to care for and protect," Willow said simply. "To raise as I-yahhhhh 'We' see fit," she amended very quickly. Of course Kitten didn't quite hear her say 'I'. 'Course she didn't.

"W-Willow, can I open my window?" her Kitten asked suddenly. "I-I just need some fresh air."

"Okay baby, go ahead," Willow agreed, and scrunched further into her side of the car. Her witch slid her window down, and windy, fresh air, blessed with a sun's warmth and the scent of green life and moisture, entered the vehicle. The noise level of the children suddenly rose, and she and her witch no longer felt isolated in their car.

"That's nice," Willow sighed, as she pressed into the shadow of her passenger side. "The new luxury car smell was getting to me too."

Tara smiled and laid her head against the sill of her open window. Sunlight shone upon the gold of her hair. She closed her eyes and enjoyed its warmth.

Willow merely sat in preternatural stillness, staring with glittering eyes from her shadows.

"I very much resent your mortality, Kitten," Willow finally breathed softly. "But I will admit, I don't want to see you become a vampire, either."

She heard Kitten make a brief sound – a small gasp – and wondered if it was a word. Her witch remained where she was, taking comfort from the bright light that bathed her.

"You wouldn't be the same," Willow said simply. "I..." Say it Willow, say it! Her reasoning mind chastised, but her demonic pride howled in refusal. "Value you," she said instead. "Very much. For the soul in your eyes. For the magic you wield. For the good so deeply ingrained and shining in you. You are so very beautiful the way you are."

"There are things I want," Willow continued softly, as she watched Kitten rest in the light of her window sill. "That I'm not meant to have. I want to walk into the sun and not die. To daywalk is my wish. But I can't have that, so I have you, Kitten. You are my sun."

Willow closed her eyes briefly. Always, she prided herself on her arrogant ability to be honest. It could be cruel in its own way, and it showed she was impervious enough to be above lies. But telling truths to her Kitten seemed as hard for herself to now hear as she knew it was hard for her girl.

"But I'm still a fiend. If I can't have you in darkness, I'll own you as my sun. And the vampire honor in that, is that I should care for you and yours...forever.

"It's enslavement, pure and simple," Willow clarified. "Yours, to serve mine. Mine, to care for yours. Symbiotic, I guess you can say. This is all said of course, in the traditional sense."

"Yes. Traditional. I like to think of myself as a modern vampire, Kitten. I like doing things...differently. Show me," Willow offered softly, staring at her witch. "Show me how you want yours to live with mine, and I will try."

Silence fell again, where her witch stayed quietly in sun, and Willow watched her think her private thoughts.

"I'd, I'd love it if you had a daughter," Willow admitted almost shyly. "Mostly cos, I'm sure your Book of Shadows, has, has room in it for her – "

And then suddenly Kitten burst out sobbing, rising from the sill to cover her face with her hands. Willow, startled, uncoiled in her seat, her green eyes wide and her hands hitting the door frame above her. They remained there, because she felt the adrenaline need to be ready and pounce on anything – whatever should manifest. She wanted to kill whatever and blame that thing for making her witch cry.

Kitten's tears though, ended almost as abruptly as their sudden appearance, her hand holding her mouth. Willow realized that it had been some sort of short, outburst, reaction thingie. The redhead still felt very unsettled however. She remained half standing out of her seat, hands still clutching the frame, and looked about the car a little wildly.

"Once," the vampire rambled, hurriedly filling the new silence. She wished Kitten would talk. "I knew an elder vampire. Nice gent, I admired how he seemed easy with unlife, and he was really funny too. He kept a human concubine – a very pretty, young thing. A really happy little thing, now that I think it. He just doted on her.

"But interestingly enough, I had noticed in his castle that he had up several portraits of her, but they all weren't of her really, they were of different women from her family. She was the great, great, grand daughter of his first Favorite, you see," Willow revealed, still wide eyed as she watched Kitten. "He never wanted to see his first concubine Turned, so when she had a daughter, and she grew up, she became his, and so forth, down the generations. He had the gender secured by magic. He was a sneaky old devil."

Willow began to panic. Her tone became breathless. "Now – why did I tell you that, I don't know Kitten. I'm not saying that I would – actually, I thought it was a great idea when I saw how – Anyway! I guess I was saying, uuum, that I'm pretty sure I'm very capable of taking care of your babies – even if you had a son! Or lots of them, I'll take care of all of them Kitten – twins, triplets, I – "

Kitten hit the button that closed her car window. "In the back seat, now, Willow."

"O-Okay," the vampire squeaked, and promptly threw her slim self over the divider. She fell to the back seat's floor and crunched a few cd cases. Kitten climbed purposefully over and literally flung herself on top of her. Willow felt more sharp plastic break and bite into her back.

While her witch's soft, hot mouth assaulted hers, Willow felt her leather pants quickly pulled down and firm hands rake nails along her pert, naked behind.

A Hummer has an excellent suspension system. It's also built solid as a tank. But somehow, Tara got it rocking.

When Kitten made her deliriously happy, or visa versa, Willow felt she could agree to anything. Which was very much not a smart thing to do. Important decisions shouldn't be made while one was naked, on one's back, with one's legs up in the air, in the back of a humvee.

"Wha?" Willow had actually panted, having been squirming so wantonly under eager, aggressive Tara-tongue just moments before.

"Can you see her? Today?" her infuriating Kitten had asked, and had emphasized the question by forcing Willow's legs further apart with her shoulders.

Kitten, after Willow's ecstatic submission, was extremely attentive. She left an exhausted Willow sleeping peacefully in the hummer while she went to the music shop and replaced all her smashed cds. She bought her fresh blood from Giano's. When Willow woke up, Kitten made love to her again, this time slowly and sweetly on the other set of back seats. Willow couldn't help but feel yummy with sated goodness – sated, loving goodliness – by the time Kitten got in the driver's seat and drove them back to the hospital.

I'm whipped, thought Willow, as she put the plastic hippo on top of the plastic monkey again.

"Hey," Tara returned with a grin and then her eyes widened. Present in the now cramped, little room were Mrs. Summers, sitting with her younger daughter Dawn by her side, Mr. Giles, and Angel, who had taken a seat on the sink counter top. Tara swallowed.

"It," Buffy said, a little embarrassed. "Kinda turned into a White Hat meeting. Sort of."

"I'll, ah, see where Kendra went off to, er, e-excuse me," Giles then said, and hurriedly left the room.

"So," Buffy said slowly, as Tara stood nervously. The Slayer then stiffened in her bed, hazel eyes alert, just as Angel straightened.

As all eyes turned to the doorway, Willow's slender frame moved slowly into view. Pale and beautiful, there was an aura of coldness about the familiar redhead, even as she stepped with a young girl's casual grace into the room, her demeanor deceptively soft, her mouth gently smiling. She wore no coat, only a thin, flimsy top. Her hands were hooked casually in the pockets of tight leather pants. She came to an easy stop before the hospital bed and merely stood, all slim girl innocence. Within her lidded green eyes, glittering depths could be glimpsed, lurking behind a pleasant regard.

There was a streak of motion from the doorway. A stake descended for Willow's back. Before anyone could react, Willow moved, the stake easily passing over her shoulder. Her hand went up to grab the stake hand. In one smooth motion, she took the stake, slipped behind Kendra, and then passed a hand before the young woman's eyes.

"Sleep," Willow merely said, and Kendra collapsed. Angel leapt to catch the unconscious girl, just as Giles appeared hastily in the doorway.

"Good lord," he gasped, staring down at one of his Slayers. His wide, pale eyes shot up to look at the Willow vampire, who stood calmly over the fallen girl.

"That...was not intended," he assured, but the words felt too late. All eyes were upon the young vampire; some frightened, some veiled and at the ready. Willow slowly glanced aside to her Kitten, who stood, heart pounding a frantic, accompanying beat to that of the frightened Summers women. Her right hand was upraised.

"It's all right, Kitten," Willow assured softly. She watched her witch slowly lower her arm, and at least from the Summers corner, there could be heard a shaky, relieved sigh. Willow returned her cool attention to the Slayer in her bed.

In all the sudden commotion, no one had heard the twist of metal. The side bar to Buffy's bed was bent at an odd angle beneath her gripping hand. Willow smiled slightly at the sight.

"You were always too strong, Buff," Willow softly observed. She sounded almost fond. She whipped her arm and threw the stake at the Slayer.

For the second time in scant minutes, Joyce's heart nearly stopped in fright, but her older daughter easily caught the deadly piece of wood. Joyce sagged a moment in relief. The young and their posturing, she mentally griped, as she again paid wary attention to her daughter's former best friend and now possible vampire enemy. Willow began to move.

"Remember Xena, Buffy," Willow mused, as she leisurely approached the bed. "In that episode you liked. How it was said that the lads of Sparta would squeeze a stick in their sleep to keep up the calluses of their sword hands? How are those calluses, Buffy?"

"Still have 'em Wills," Buffy replied, as the vampire slowly made her casual way beside her bed. One of Willow's hands trailed along the bed's edge, not quite touching the Slayer. "You were right. That trick does work." She gestured with the wood in her hands. "That was a great episode too," she then added brightly, watching the vampire. "Xena kicking the ass of a whole army."

"Yeah, but she's just t.v.," Willow smirked. She came to an easy stop. "She's not a real hero like you, Buff."

Buffy's face lost its levity. Willow was purposefully repeating a cherished conversation they had when she had been alive, only months before. One where her Willow had given her wholehearted confidence that if an entire Persian army took on Buffy, she had faith like Gabrielle that her best friend could protect her, or they'd die together trying.

Buffy was very aware that she had failed that faith. Every night since Willow's death she had felt it. This demon wasn't above reminding her.

"C'mere," Buffy then said softly, her hazel eyes large and intense. "I want to see you."

For a while, the young vampire did not comply, studying the Slayer. Then, as if she deigned it a worthy enough request to grant, Willow slowly, deliberately approached the Slayer's side. She leaned forward, hovering easily above Buffy, and gave her the face she wanted to see.

They stared, one searching familiar, beloved soft planes and slender angles, while the other gazed serenely, enigmatically, her small mouth quirked in a soft smile. Buffy raised a golden hand to the pale face, carefully tracing its sweet lines. Her fingers played a little with the hanging strands of soft red hair.

Willow placed a cool hand over the Slayer's hot one that held the stake, and slowly brought it up to her chest. She positioned the sharp point over her heart.

"Hm haha ha," Buffy continued to laugh, her mirth becoming something of a snorty kind of chuckle, and the vampire joined in.

"Hehehehe!" Willow giggled softly. Then she abruptly stopped, Buffy's other hot hand now firm against the back of her neck. She felt the press of the stake against her chest.

"No," Willow agreed quietly. Her features actually softened, to an almost sensual regard. She was finding the scent of the Slayer, despite its distinct Slayer resonance that should repel her, both hauntingly familiar and dangerously appealing. She moved lower, allowing her face to come closer even as the stake dug into her chest. "I'm new," she breathed into the familiar, golden girl features. "We can just get to know each other...again."

Willow abruptly rose, and with playful challenge in her half closed eyes, casually backed away. Her hand reached out for Tara as she moved, the hand caressing the witch along her arm until it reached Tara's fingers and twined with them. Willow then led the blonde witch away, all the while gazing with a small smirk at Buffy.

Willow paused. Anger leapt in her at the imperious request, and she couldn't prevent the flash of it in her eyes. Buffy's tone had not been friendly; it was a demand. She made an effort to keep her hand relaxed in Kitten's and not crush it.

"Sure thing, Buff," she said sweetly to the Slayer. She then resumed her exit from the room, her Kitten in tow.

When the vampire had disappeared with Tara, Joyce heard Dawn gasp in her arms. She looked at the bed and at Buffy. Her older daughter's hand was clenched white around the stake. She was gripping it hard enough to stain the wood with her own blood.

As the vampire led Tara to the hospital elevator, the witch spoke softly to her.

"Yes," Willow finally acknowledged. She seemed to turn over the quiet revelation slowly, like it were a misplaced discovery. "Now I know."

That night, Tara took Willow to the woods to give her vampire the gift of reconnection. That night, she decided to allow herself to love her vampire more and more. What had started that first Bronze night she would no longer deny. She would finally allow it the harbor of her heart. Despite all reason, she had fallen for something wicked, yet incredible. Something that shone, blinding with amazing promise, yet was black in its very core. It could not be helped, she loved the vampire, and though Tara was certain that Willow was not ready to hear or perhaps even want that, she could at least give her vampire something...something to bring her closer to her.

Main What's New Fiction by Author Fiction by Pairing eBooks

Subject Index Submissions Gallery Forums Links Awards Contact Us

If you find problems on these pages please email your host.

The Master Willow Series:
Master Willow

by psimetis

Copyright © 2004

psimetis@hotmail.com

The Master Willow Series: Master Willow

by psimetis

Copyright © 2004

psimetis@hotmail.com

The Master Willow Series:
Master Willow