The Return of Wicked Red 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: A mature vampire Willow returns to Sunnydale with her sire, Drusilla, and becomes reluctant Master of the town. She takes Tara as her pet and a complex relationship grows between them.

"Invite me in, Willow?" Angel suggested, as he loomed in the doorway in his subtly menacing way.

"And why should I?" Willow replied pleasantly as she approached the door. "Do you come as avenging angel, here to stake me and Mum, or are you here as Family?"

"Is that what warding me out of my own home is about? You could have chosen somewhere else to live if you were afraid of me," Angel growled.

"I did offer to buy the place from you, Granddad," Willow answered with a disapproving frown, which looked more like a petulant pout coming from the vampire's delicate features. "And I like it here. It was where I was reborn."

At this, Angel's broad shoulders sagged slightly. Remembering the sweet girl Willow once was, he was hard pressed not to compare the memory to the deceptively adorable face before him now. It was like what he had sensed three weeks before; this Willow acted more like her human self than the newborn Willow had. She even dressed different. Cool jacket.

"Kitten is fine. And Dru knows you're here, by the way. If I let you in, you have to be civil," Willow threatened, stepping closer to the bigger vampire and looking up menacingly. "When you left Mum with Spike, she never saw you for nearly a century, and then there was nearly twenty years where she barely had hope of returning here again. Don't you dare try to dismiss her with a stake, like you did with Darla," she growled, and she was referring to the rumor, which she was certain was true, that Angel actually tried to stake his own sire.

Angel could barely believe it; this little childe was threatening him! Angel wouldn't hesitate to throw even his second eldest childe, Spike, a Master vampire in his own right, across the room for such insolence. But Angel did not survive 240 years without recognizing that the little one before him was definitely not what she seemed. Power rolled off her, thick and almost suffocatingly so, this close to the slender girl. Willow stared up at him with glittering, emerald eyes, and Angel did not doubt that he was sensing only a little of what she was capable of.

"Fine," he finally answered. There was no emotion to his face. "I'll be on my best behavior."

He was surprised when he saw the thinly disguised disgust on Willow's face. What did she expect him to say? The childe stepped back and her face slipped into a distantly polite regard.

When Angel stepped out into the terrace, he was surprised by the appearance of the party. It definitely was not a typical vampire one. Not one minion or fledge was in sight, just some local demons, and there was no cage with imprisoned bleeders. Even the quartet was made up of demons, which meant there was no one here human for Dru or Willow to eat, unless –

There was Tara, in the arms of his Dark childe. They danced close, and the honey blonde human was gently leading. She laughed, and then Dru giggled. His insane childe looked delighted, which could only mean one thing.

"Tara must keep away from Dru – " Angel warned, starting toward the pair. A firm, yet small hand took his arm.

"Mum won't kill Kitten," Willow assured, as she led her reluctant granddad to the patio table and sat him down. "Mum loves Kitten, as I do." She fetched her grandsire one of the warming cognac glasses. Angel shot her a dark look.

"Of course," Willow answered. "Who wouldn't?" When her grandsire only stared at the glass offered, she actually sighed. "It's from Giano's. You know they only use volunteer bleeders." The redhead nearly rolled her eyes at granddad's behavior as he finally accepted the glass with one of his trademark pained expressions. The old man was so guilt ridden, he would even try passing up a free glass of human blood.

"Now why are you here, Grandpappy?" she quipped as she took a seat at the table.

"Tara told me something of what happened to you and Dru when you disappeared," Angel said. "You're definitely alot different from when you were first born." That was practically an understatement, as far as Angel was personally concerned. The demon unleashed in the freshly Turned Willow had been a murderously gleeful maniac; a second Dark Goddess, much like her mother, but minus the insanity. The incredible control this Willow was exhibiting had Angel's grudging respect and his curiosity. He'd really like to know how this Willow came to be, and what she was doing here in Sunnydale.

"Yes," he heard Willow comment in an off hand manner. "Taking care of Mum made me grow up quick."

The childe and the elder vampire fell into easy conversation then, chatting amiably even as they sized each other up. Grandsire's attempts to feel Willow out were obvious. She in turn, gave him select anecdotes of her and Dru's adventures – but nothing that would reveal the full extent of what she could do, or had done. At one point she pulled out a small silver case from her inner jacket pocket – imported cigarillos. She offered, but Angel refused.

"So you didn't enjoy being a Master, Little One?" Angel mocked, finally relaxing with his second glass of warmed blood. The childe was sharing a funny story of when she had to play a clan Master. Willow had inherited the territory of a Master vampiress she had killed. The dusted vampiress had tried to make Dru her unwilling seer and mate. Willow scowled.

"Minions are idiots," Willow complained. "And if you Turn smart humans they end up plotting against you. And the disciplining! I never had a moment's peace. I was forever meting out beatings and tortures. And I hated the politics," she groused as she took another puff of her tiny cigar. "Always a snore of a party at clan this, or clan that, and then making sure you didn't insult the stuck up elder clan who's too 'elder than thou' and fond of crucifying childer at the drop of a misspoken word. I got fed up, so I instigated clan war and had them destroy each other. Dru had alot of fun though," she added as a perky afterthought.

Her mayhem loving Sire in question was sitting on the grass with Kitten while the quartet took another break. The elder vampire was gesturing with her arms, obviously telling her own fun stories. Kitten graced Willow with a glance just then, slyly checking her out. Willow wondered if Kitten liked her cigarillo. She waggled her eyebrows and gave the little cigar a flick. Yeah baby! There was Kitten's amused half grin. The blonde turned back to her chattering Sire once more.

When Willow returned her attention to Angel, the vampire was grinning – which he rarely, to Willow's knowledge, ever did – in a pensively dark manner into his glass.

"Angelus would have liked that, huh?" Willow noted lightly. "You were never much for vampire society, that's why you and Darla roamed free with your childer. None of that Vlad fiefdom life for you."

Angel raised his dark eyes to the little childe and scowled at her. Oops. Mr. Broody was back again.

Dru thought she saw a glimmer of her Dark Daddy when she glanced at the man beside her Precious, and then he was gone. She turned to the great face of the moon and then down to her fretting hand that plucked grass.

"Him, yet not him," she whispered. "Him, yet not. Who am I then? What shall I do?"

Tara frowned. Dru's moods were so mercurial. The elder vampire was giggling one second, and then one look at Angel and she was scattered into mad mutterings once more.

Dru's sharp nails grazed Tara's flesh as she quickly took the witch's hands. The blonde winced slightly. She was very grateful that Willow kept her own nails extremely short and neatly trimmed. The elder vampire stood up, and silently urged Tara to accompany her.

"So what are your plans now that you're back home?" Angel finally asked. He was on his third glass of blood. Willow just smoked and drank nothing. Her control was amazing. He then felt the presence of his first childe nearby, and he looked up into the frightened, expectant eyes of Drusilla.

"Um, Angel, would you like to dance with Drusilla?" he heard Tara ask in her soft, ingenuous manner.

Angel paused, his face impassive. Willow readied a foot to kick him. Then the souled vampire stood up.

"I would love to," he said, staring down at his Dark childe. For the first time in nearly a century, he addressed her. "Come Dru."

Willow let out a stream of smoke as both elder vampires left the table. Kitten smiled and took the seat Angel had vacated.

"Tsk. Such a potty mouth, and so pretty too," Kitten quipped. She cocked her head as Willow put the cigarillo to her grinning mouth. "That smells so good. I never thought they could."

"That's because cheap cigars are made out of crap, Kitten," Willow explained. She handed the tiny cigar to her witch, wondering if she knew how to smoke. "These are Cuban. You can smell their flavor. They taste like rich moist earth, rain, and banana leaves. It's like smokin' Mama Earth herself," she grinned. Kitten readied for an experimental puff. "Don't inhale, just take it to the back of the throat." She watched Kitten's cheeks suck hesitantly, then blow some smoke out. The vampire's grin grew naughty, thinking how sexual that looked, Kitten puffing on Willow's little cigar. Freud much?

"Mm. Strong," the blonde witch slightly grimaced, handing the cigarillo back to Willow. She picked up her water glass.

Willow giggled and fantasized that the little cigar was Kitten's as she put it back in her mouth. She sucked. Rrrr. Kitten smiled, then glanced in Angel's direction.

"He, um, he doesn't know what to feel, because of the guilt," she heard Kitten hesitantly say. The vampire's good mood soured.

"No," she heard Kitten disagree. "It's more like – because of what he did to Dru, and maybe because he couldn't protect you, he, um, doesn't feel he deserves to love you."

Willow tore her eyes from the elder vampires to stare into Kitten's gentle blue eyes. "That's giving Angel lots of credit, Kitten," she commented. "If he felt so undeserving of our company, he should stake himself, not the other way around."

"To gain some redemption for over a century of bloody mayhem, yes. He's on the Slayer's side, Kitten. Mum and I are still creatures that kill people, after all," Willow said with some bitterness, thinking of Darla. Willow didn't care much for the great grandmother she had never met, it was just the idea that Angel now set himself up as judge and executioner of his own kind that peeved her. If he and Darla had a personal falling out and attempted to kill each other, fine, Willow would have never given the incident another thought.

"Oh," Willow continued, with a slight rise of her eyebrow. "You mean a, 'Willow and Dru will not kill' type compromise, Kitten?"

The young woman lowered her eyes. "I w-would never – you are who are. It would be unfair to ask."

"But you'd like it, wouldn't you Kitten," Willow softly surmised, and leaned forward to capture her witch's receptive lips. They enjoyed each other's mouths for a while.

"Mmm," Willow finally hummed, leaning back. "I'll think about it Kitten." And she enjoyed the sight of the blonde witch's shy, yet extremely happy, tremulous smile. Then the smile faded.

Angel watched Willow and Tara kiss. The little one didn't even kiss like a demon, she kissed like a sweet girl. He could not figure the childe out. Somehow a strong personality had asserted itself over the demon, much like how Spike's impassioned personality could assert itself over his own demon. It was what made that troublesome childe so capable of loving and cherishing Dru for over a century. He was unsure how to deal with Willow though, not knowing if she had designs for the Hellmouth or some such scheme. Unless the young childe made a move first, he will have to wait. And then, there was of course Dru.

Angel gazed down upon the dark head of his unusually quiet daughter as she clung to him, her dark, large eyes faraway. They were his childer after all, he sighed inwardly. What was he thinking? They were on opposite sides, and yet they were his. And now one of them was going to make a Pet of one of the Slayer's friends.

"How...how can you be so sure?" Tara exclaimed, hardly believing what she was hearing.

"I drank your blood, I would know. There's not a drop of demon in you. Magic is in every mortal, you know that. A demon doesn't have to give it to you. You are one hundred percent, yummy human Tara," Willow grinned. "All magical Wiccy goodness." And how, Willow mentally salivated, re-living the tasty memory.

But Kitten didn't look convinced. Damn family brainwashing, Willow silently groused. Kitten better not need deprogramming.

"Yes, she's an ex-demon, and she's seen so much, f-from being around more than a thousand years, b-but she couldn't help me," Tara stammered. Her blue eyes darted, still stuck on thoughts she didn't want to think. God, that meant her family –

"Sh-she thinks there's no demon in me either," Tara explained. "Unless it were a weird and complicated curse that w-would somehow p-put one in me on m-m-my – -but there's no ritual, it's supposed t-t-to just – "

Willow took the witch's hand. Tara accepted the comfort gratefully, nearly gasping from her effort to speak. She was becoming upset, and her heart was beating frantically.

"Kitten," the vampire's soft voice soothed. "Like Anya, I think you've been lied to. But let's not think about your stinkin', lying family, okay? You are the most beautiful person here, right now. I want you. And if you do come with a curse, we can deal with it when the time comes. Right now, there's just you. Yummy you. And me, who wants you. Right now, you're my Kitten. Sounds good?" Willow stroked the young woman's hand, watching her troubled blue eyes closely. Tara rallied herself and put her old, and now discredited burden, away.

"S-sounds good," she answered softly, smiling shyly once again. Willow loved making Kitten smile. It made the vampire want to smile.

"Everything all right?" she heard Angel ask, Dru in tow upon his arm as he approached. Of course he would have heard Kitten's frantic heartbeat. He probably hadn't the decency not to eavesdrop either. Well, Willow never was respectful about her own vampiric hearing, but still.

"Mum!" the red haired vampire announced, as she turned to her Sire. "Time for the Little Hunt!" Dru jumped up and down at the words, still linked in Angel's arm, and squealed. The male vampire frowned. He did not like hearing the word 'hunt'. It only meant one thing.

"Oh Precious! Like th' picnic?" Dru enthused to her childe. After the second dance with her long lost Daddy, Dru was more comfortable in his presence. She felt that there were things that needed to be said to him, but – she was trying ever so hard to stay focused – the stars were being pesky, but she ignored them. Precious' little hunts always helped keep her here.

"Yep! Prezzies await you," her childe affirmed, rising from her chair and kissing her sire on the cheek. "Grandpappy will take you on your Little Hunt in the garden."

As Dru pulled upon her Sire's arm, chattering about a picnic on the Thames with rabbits and faerie lights, Angel stood immobile and scowled at Willow.

"Nothing's going to die," the younger vampire enunciated slowly to the bigger vampire. "They're just fun things for Mum. Now go!"

As the elder vampires finally headed towards the gardens, Willow took the blonde witch's hand. She addressed the rest of the demon party goers.

"Thank you for coming! Good night!" she simply announced. A chorus of voices wished the vampire and Tara good night and then guests rapidly swarmed the buffet table, snatching leftovers to take home. Clem's girlfriend Bee grabbed all the flower arrangements. Tara had noticed her snacking on those earlier. Willow went to the musicians, who were quickly packing up, and handed them each their gratuity.

As the guests departed, making their way around the house, Tara watched Willow smile and offer the blonde her hand again.

"Who needs to keep a party going on a night like this?" The vampire remarked, as she led Tara leisurely in the direction of the gardens. "The moon is shining, the birds are – well, not singing, and the vampires are out, checking out the hotness that is you," Willow purred, as she gave the blonde's body an eyeful. The soft red dress clung to Kitten's curves so nicely.

"W-what?" Tara exclaimed, feigning alarm, and let go of Willow's hand. "Vampires? Where?"

"Right here, silly," Willow breathed, poised in her poet's shirt and velvet jacket in a very still, yet sexy manner. Kinda threatening, but still sexy.

"I-I should run away then," Tara further exclaimed, taking a quick, dance-like step back, her skirt swirling softly around her legs.

"Please do," Willow exhaled in her little girl voice, and she let her eyelids grow heavy in aroused anticipation. Her smirk grew.

Tara shot away, light on her feet, her excited laugh trailing behind her as she dashed into the garden. Willow gave her a moment's head start and then leapt eagerly after her. Oooo Fast Kitty!

"Shh. Shhh Daddy. We're huntin'," Dru admonished, practically lisping as she crept behind the hedge, dragging her Sire's hand behind her. Angel let his dead lungs sigh, and then decided to put his silent stalking skills to use. This was silly. And there had better not be anything for Dru to kill out here.

But Angel could sense no human heartbeats, except the possible faint presence of Tara, deep on the other side of the garden. Senses now open, he became aware of other sensations – of the wispy tingle of magic in the air. His daughter clutched his hand and hurried him forward, alerting him to something hidden – the prezzie they were hunting.

"Daddy here, here!" Dru said excitedly, as they broke into a hedged clearing in which a perfect white rose bush sat among some nude, garden nymphs. One of the nymphs wore an elegant, ladies straw hat. Angel cocked his head in wonderment. He could sense life – possible prey – here, but their presence was masked.

"We must find the prezzie, put th' box together first and then pull the ribbon off, that's how Precious does things – Daddy don't trample anythin'," Dru admonished as she searched about the square. She plucked the hat off the statue and made various sounds of thought as she hunted about the garden and found other items the statues held – a broad red ribbon, a large, white, fluffy feather, a hat pin. Angel merely stood, keeping his big feet in place and watching Dru puzzle at her game. She sat upon the grass lit only by the bright moon and laid her items out.

"Hat," she stated to herself. "Hat – ribbon goes in hat." She threaded the ribbon through the hat brim, making it pretty. "Feather goes in ribbon. Hat pin goes in feather – " Dru stood up eagerly with her finished hat. "Hat goes on head!" And triumphantly, Dru placed the hat on her head.

The white rose bush erupted in a cacophony of flapping sounds as roses turned into white doves – real white doves, Angel could hear their tiny heart beats! – and filled the air with their wings and bodies. They flew up into the night sky and Dru clapped and laughed and laughed.

Angel watched the birds fly beyond sight, then felt the tug of his Dark childe upon his arm.

"Let's find another!" Dru cried out, looking beautiful beneath the brim of her new prize. It was almost like seeing his childe before her Turning.

Tara ran until she was breathless, which was easy to do because she could not stop laughing. Willow would touch her here and there on her back and side, the very action putting the thrill of giddy fear in her. She'd squeal in fright and run faster, spurred by the sneaky touches.

Finally they broke into a wide grassy area that sloped into a pond, and Tara led Willow in a merry chase around it. The vampire took that moment to round her prey, growling playfully. Tara laughed and feigned to the side, Willow's arms nearly encircling her. It went on like that, a zigzag dance of predatorial courtship, the female neatly escaping her suitor's advances. Eventually Willow took what she wanted and wrapped her arms possessively around Kitten's waist at last.

"You fiend!" Tara accused breathlessly, as the vampire finally set her down. Her eyes sparkled bright with excitement and her cheeks were blushed with exertion. She laughed, and Willow was smitten by the sight and sound.

"How could you ever think there was a demon within you," Willow whispered, suddenly serious as she reached out and held the laughing face in her hands. "In your eyes are nothing like what can be found in mine."

Tara paused, still breathing rapidly, and her eyes silently questioned the sudden turn in the mood of the vampire. Head held gently by the cool hands, Tara could only stare into large eyes made dark and mysterious, not by the moon's strange light, but by the owner of those glittering, intense greens.

"Look deep," Willow softly encouraged, as she felt Kitten's hard breaths and the rapid beat in her chest. "Am I not right?"

Tara stared and her heart rapidly pounded, recognizing the darkened eyes that stared back. She watched the killer within the hidden depths step slowly, menacingly to the fore.

"Who's the demon here, Kitten?" Willow quietly demanded, and her small voice was cold; darkly, chillingly so.

Like lightning, Willow had Tara on her back upon the ground, both the vampire's hands beside her head. She snarled viciously, and allowed the demon to partially show, eyes flashing yellow and her fangs fractionally elongating.

"Ask for mercy," she threatened in a voice demonic with menace. The young woman beneath her did not struggle.

"Mercy," Tara breathed, watching the vampire with wide blue eyes. "Mercy, I ask."

Willow's snarl lessened and disappeared at the archaic, formal plea. Lines from an old English text. Poignant words, at this moment, from the mouth of her Kitten.

"Mercy you've found," Willow responded in a voice no longer small, girlish, or demonic, but made near raw with a deeply felt emotion. She laid her head on Kitten's chest and hid her face there. Caring hands automatically rose to her tousled red hair.

Tara breathed as she held the vampire, not sure of what had happened, but knowing something deeply significant had passed.

"I will not harm you," she heard Willow swear with great emotion, her voice muffled in Tara's chest. "But you must remember what I am. And you must remember what you are."

"I will," Tara promised quietly. She stroked the soft locks beneath her fingers. "You're a fiend," she simply stated.

Willow suddenly broke out laughing against the blonde's breast, but it was still more bittersweet sounding than lighthearted. The vampire rose up to stare in sobered appreciation into Tara's eyes.

"You're my fiend," Tara affirmed softly, her hands still tangled in red hair. "You're my killer."

Angel wasn't sure what to make of the prezzie they next found. This time Dru and he stood in a flowered garden, heavy with little pretty faces of petaled blues and purples and belled reds – he had to guess at the colors actually, the moonlight made everything practically colorless. Yet all about this place there was the subtle buzz of magic – except it kept winking in and out of awareness. Like tiny things that hid.

"Come out come out," Dru chanted in an equally tiny voice, as if to pass herself off as one of the hidden things. She looked in a bush. "Oo!" she exclaimed, and pulled out a book. She showed it to her Daddy.

"The pages are blank, Dru," Angel commented with a frown, as he examined the book for his daughter. He turned it over to read the title. " 'Pressed Faeries Book'?" he read in surprise, his broad face actually breaking into a smile. What a ludicrous idea! But kind of funny!

"Oh, like that naughty Lady Cottington!" Dru remarked, with a little clap of her hands. "Wicked goose pressed the wee folk, not th' flowers!" She took the book back and then flipped through the blank pages. "But how to make it work..." she puzzled, as she bit her lip.

"There must be other clues, Princess," Angel suggested. That sent Dru hunting about the garden again, until she made a sound of victory and pulled out a small, long wooden box. As she returned to her Sire, Angel recognized the purpose of the box immediately. It was an antique, and as he surmised when Dru slid the wood top back, it held an old fashioned ink well with bottled ink and a steel tipped dipping pen. Dru knelt on the grass with her book and took the top off the ink bottle.

"Precious always says," Dru informed, almost to herself, as she elegantly dipped the pen. "Make it simple, and the spell shall come true." Placing the pen upon the page that was imprinted with the floral lines stating: This Book Belongs To', Dru carefully inscribed in an old fashioned script: 'Drusilla'.

The moment she lifted the pen from the page, each bright flower in the garden burst loudly into a sprightly, wee, winged humanoid creature. They flew about the garden in mad patterns, leaving blue, red, green and yellow sparkles behind in their flight. Dru ran screaming with her open book after the little glow things.

Angel fell to his knees laughing, as his mad childe leapt about with vampiric speed, trapping protesting wee folk in the pages of her book. Dru loudly scolded one that glowed bright green and zipped just out of reach, the brash little faerie sticking its butterfly like tongue out at her. Dru leapt and triumphantly slammed her book shut around it. Angel burst out hysterically again.

Drusilla's exclamations and war cries filled the garden as she pressed more fleeing faeries within the pages of her morbid little book. The glow-brights danced in the night air, and Angel realized why laughing seemed to pain him so excruciatingly; he hadn't laughed so freely in the century since getting his soul.

Willow reluctantly pulled her mouth from Kitten's, then moved in to steal another kiss – then another. She wanted to make up for scaring Kitten earlier, although the young woman hadn't the scent of fear. It had been more like adrenaline and apprehension. Somehow, in just four days, Kitten had come to trust that the vampire would not harm her. Not like that, anyway. But it was a certainty that the vampire would eventually do things that will inadvertently terrify her witch. Such was the nature of being a dark, demonic thing. Kitten must remember that.

Finally pulling away for what had to be the tenth time, Willow moved back upon her knees to put a little distance between herself and Kitty. Now was the time, she thought happily. Gazing into Kitten's receptive, curious eyes, Willow pulled out a small, silver colored gift box from her jacket pocket. It was flat and square and a little larger than her palm. She held it up in her hands formally, and then readied herself to say –

Willow lowered the box. 'Uh oh' turned into 'Not good', by her judgmental brain.

"W-when you first w-wanted me as a playmate, I had no choice, but now things seem different," Tara tried to explain, seeing that the vampire was already anticipating not liking what Tara wanted to say. It made her nervous.

"I-I mean, does it necess-ss-ss – " oh damn her stuttering mouth. Tara took a deep breath and tried again. "Does it usually have to be this way?"

"Well, if you mean does making you my Pet make you just a plaything, it won't with me, Kitten," Willow began, deciding to run with an assumption. "I mean, slaves are slaves, but I value you very highly and I guess that would make you more like a Concubine, but even they get treated like things – highly prized things, but not for what goes on in their heads. They're very pretty but I notice that their will eventually gets broken. I want an equal playmate – still my Pet, but more like," and here the vampire finally paused in her long monologue to put the box down between them. She nervously ran her hands upon the black fabric of her thighs. "More like a Companion," she added almost shyly, and actually did not look Tara in the eye.

Tara nibbled at her lip as she tried to take in everything the vampire had said.

"Could we try something else instead?" she suggested. "C-could we try being girlfriends?"

"Oh," Willow said, trying to digest that idea. Her brow furrowed at the attempt. "I don't think so, Kitten."

Willow's face took on the cutest frown of confusion . She wiggled slightly on her haunches, trying to find words. It was like as if Kitten had asked her why Spain was shaped the way it was.

"Cos vampires don't do that sort of thing, Kitten," Willow finally answered. She was so caught up in her own perplexed thoughts on the subject, she barely noticed Tara's understanding gaze, and the witch's body relaxing into a kind of acceptance.

Vampires didn't even – the girlfriend thing? – among each other, thought Willow. It was more like either 'shag and get gone' or 'mate for the rest of your unlife', as her brother Spike would say. And familial bonding was just what it was; love, punishment, and fealty all rolled up into bloody, bitey sire/childer sex.

Willow returned her attention to Kitten, who was watching her closely. The vampire pushed the silver box towards the witch, enticing with her gift once more.

"This is what I know to do, Kitten," she said almost apologetically, in her best breathy little girl voice, and made her eyes very big and wanting. Tara's mouth responded, a knowing half smile.

"Then do something for me, if you can," Tara asked. She looked intently at her vampire. "Be my friend," she said.

Willow stilled. She opened her mouth, then closed it. She shuffled forward suddenly on her knees. Kitten quickly moved just out of reach. The blonde witch was poised on her hands, ready to pull away, an expectant gleam in her blue eyes. "Be my friend," she whispered.

Willow dropped down upon her side. She lay there, deceptively submissive, looking up at Kitten. She reached out with a hand, knowing it would not be able to touch the kneeling blonde. Willow began to purr, deep in her chest. Her witch's eyes widened at the sound. "Be my friend," Kitten said again.

Willow batted the box closer to Kitten. Her witch didn't touch it. Willow kicked a little, scooting her purring body nearer. Kitten moved away, her own body's motion wary and beautiful.

"Be my friend, Willow," she asked once more. Kitten's soft, feminine voice was such an enticing sound. Willow wished Kitten's words were actually tangible, so she could eat the plea and promise in the pretty pronunciations right out of the air. Willow purred louder and enjoyed the attention of blue eyes staring at her so expectantly.

Willow scooted her body again and pushed the box. Kitten moved once more, just a little out of reach. She was readied, it seemed, between fleeing, or hearing what Willow had yet to say.

Friend, Willow's mind echoed, tasting the word. Such a foreign word to a demon. Yet something new. Something maybe she could do.

She ceased purring, and rolled slowly to her stomach. She rose up slightly, staring at Kitten.

Kitten's eyes shone; warm, beautiful, happy. They then darkened with purpose, and Willow felt her witch reach for the box. Slender fingers lifted the lid off.

Nestled in soft whiteness was a silver bracelet. It measured an inch's height of solid, round edged metal and was etched with subtle runic designs. It was small enough to appear as an elegant, finely crafted bangle, yet sturdy enough to signify its purpose: ownership. Willow carefully picked the bracelet up and turned it so that Kitten could view the polished surface.

If Willow's hands trembled slightly, she would like to think it was from sheer arousal or some such base emotion. How Kitten could evoke such rare reactions within her, the vampire didn't know. Just the sight of Kitten submitting to her, so accepting and trusting, had Willow too excited for words. She stared into Kitten's receptive blue eyes.

"Your submission, my promise," Willow softly intoned, as she slipped the bracelet on.

"Your promise, my submission," Tara replied as softly, her eyes never wavering. Willow squeezed the metal shut.

Angel crouched in another patch of garden, a ridiculously tall hunter's hat perched on his head. He was highly suspicious that it was a joke. What kind of hunter wore a hat like this?

Dru, who insisted that he wear the prize as she already had a hat of her own, now held a toy rifle with surprising expertise to her shoulder, sighting along it. She was aiming the bead shooter at three brightly colored balloons which had popped into existence once Angel had grudgingly donned the hat.

"Who taught you to shoot, Dru?" Angel asked, perplexed. His Dark childe was a magnificent, feral fighter. Guns were so incongruous with a creature like Drusilla, who only needed teeth and nails to rend anything in her way to pieces. Angel didn't think it wise to have his mad childe handling such a weapon, even if it was a toy.

Dru took careful aim, then neatly popped each balloon with a loud bang. Three objects fell, and Dru and Angel hurried forward to investigate – they were a tiny, well tailored waistcoat, an equally tiny pocket watch upon a chain and fob, and a very small pair of spectacles.

"Dru, another balloon," Angel remarked, noting the sudden presence of a white balloon floating serenely at the other side of the garden. Dru placed an excited hand upon his arm and whispered dramatically.

"We must be vewy quiet," she cautioned with great emphasis, a finger to her lips. Angel nearly rolled his eyes. He was beginning to get the theme for this particular hunt. Adjusting his absurd hunter's hat, he followed stealthily behind the equally silent Drusilla as she approached the balloon's location. They positioned themselves behind some shrubbery and peered through its leaves.

Before them lay a small animal's den – specifically, a hole. Above it floated the white balloon and the small prize it suspended from the end of its string; a small orange carrot.

"Wait! It needs to come closer, or you'll lose it. Okay, now. Wait! It's over the hole!"

"Daddy!" Dru hissed. Angel fidgeted and tried not to direct his daughter any further. Dru took careful aim.

The carrot fell neatly just a little away from the entrance of the animal den. Dru and Angel went very still. Something white, with a pink nose, cautiously emerged from the hole. The vampires were as still as statues as the small white beast revealed itself in slow inches. With a shriek, Dru leapt over the shrubbery and pounced.

"Dru!" Angel cautioned uselessly, fearing the premature lost of the prey, but already his childe held aloft her captured prize.

"Have him!" she cried, and then suddenly morphed into her demonic features and sank her teeth into the white thing.

"Dru!" Angel shouted. Damn that Little One! he mentally cursed. Willow said there would be no killing!

However, once Angel had reached Dru's side, he realized that the rabbit was not alive after all. It was a stuffed toy – and a very disturbing stuffed toy.

"Dru," Angel questioned, looking blankly down upon the soft, stuffed bunny his now human featured daughter held. "Why does it have a heartbeat?"

Dru merely giggled. "Naughty Peter!" she admonished the rabbit. "You're indecent."

She ran back to where the waistcoat and other small items lay, and began to dress her toy.

"Precious made it so," Dru informed, carefully threading the watch fob in the waistcoat. "With a tiny pumpity machine. I had another like this Peter. Mr. Cottontail had a fine heart, but we had to leave him behind." Dru looked upset a moment. Then she seemed to come to some inner consolation. "My grand babies take good care of Mr. Cotton," she said decisively to herself. She then raised the stuffed bunny to Angel with a sly, mischievous regard. "Mr. Peter, this is Daddy. Daddy, this is Mr. Peter. He would like to say 'grrr'." And Dru gave the stuffed toy's muzzle a slight push, revealing vampire fangs.

Angel couldn't help himself. For the second time that night, he burst out laughing. His rare outburst was then interrupted by fireworks suddenly erupting from the hedges around them. Surrounded by showering sparks, whistles, and bangs, Dru danced deliriously around her Daddy.

Willow could barely keep a hand off her witch. Her witch, her witch, her witch, her mind crowed, as she led Kitten on a leisurely tour of the mansion. She wanted to take her Kitten out and show her off to the envy of other demons. Look what I have! she wanted to announce. Not just a pretty prize but a light magic witch, one who had killed the Master, the founder of Aurelius himself, you pathetic fools, and I, Willow own her – my captured Pet.

She raised the warm hand she held and kissed it. Kitten glanced at her in bemusement, smiling slightly. Oh, such a pretty Kitten, Willow thought. How different from the night when the vampire had first hunted and taken her, poor kicked thing. Now that she was hers, Kitten would provide some delicious chases. Willow suppressed a shiver of anticipation, although not her smirky grin.

"Um, and whose room is this?" Tara ventured to ask, privately deciding that whatever Willow was thinking about at the moment, it would be better if Tara didn't know. The vampire had been showing the young woman around the mansion; first the downstairs, where the kitchen and other extraneous rooms lay. Now they were on the second floor, where she had been shown her own room, Willow's, Dru's, and Spike's.

Tara was feeling unaccountably shy. Willow had stated that Tara would stay at the mansion as much as possible, dividing time with her own dorm room. It was such a new feeling, to suddenly be made a part of someone else's home.

"Oh, that's Angel's room, Kitten," Willow informed, gesturing for the double doors to open. It was definitely a master bedroom; the oversized bed said as much, as well as the generous floor space. "I wanted to claim it, but then he is patriarch."

Tara merely nodded. As Angel was a touchy subject, she decided not to ask if the souled vampire was going to continue living here. From the little she knew, it seemed a complicated family matter.

"And this is my library, Kitten," Willow announced proudly, as she led the young woman through another set of double doors. "The shelves are not fully stocked, but I'm working on more acquisitions. I had to leave so much of my collection behind in the places we lived," she added mournfully. Tara gazed about in wonderment at the newly installed dark wood shelves. True, many of the shelves housed little, but the

the locked cabinets in particular, were well packed with ancient texts. She felt the touch of dark magicks from them. Tara was certain that the more powerful books in Willow's possession were probably not in those cabinets.

"I expect you won't want to look at the dark books, Kitten, but everything here you will have access to." Tara looked back at Willow and smiled.

"Through there," Willow pointed, indicating a heavy glass door at one end of the library. "Is an entertainment den." Behind the transparent partition, a room could be seen, displaying a huge widescreen. "Back here," Willow continued, turning to the opposite end where the library split into an upper area furnished like a study. "Is the area I will conduct public business at, but behind it is where my true power base lies." Willow walked up the brief stairs to the study's heavy desk and leather chairs. She stood before the bookcase behind the desk and reached a hand out to Tara.

Tara took her hand. The bookcase was not what it seemed. She felt the subtle radiance of a mystical signature. Willow waved her hand, and the bookcase slid aside. It revealed an opaque, black glass door. Tara held her breath as it too, slid aside. It revealed only darkness.

Tara gasped. Perhaps the curtain of dark was an illusion, or perhaps it was a dimensional step. Whatever it was, she now found herself in a pentagon shaped room illuminated by large, embedded crystals and gently, rippling reflected light. There was the soft sound of water, trickling in artificial streams that ran along the bottom edge of the white walls and beneath the lucite-like, icy floor. At one corner was a long, pure white, boudoir chaise lounge with rolled pillow. Across from the chaise, in remarkable contrast of intimate antique with impersonal modernism, stood a sleek, translucent glass desk with slender, equally translucent roll back chairs. Ice colored units of the latest in flat screen and computer hardware were arranged in casual perfection upon the desk. Tara felt cool arms encircle her waist, and Willow murmured in her ear.

"My Sanctum, Kitten. I've always been a black magic user, but here, I've woven only natural magic into the walls. Air, fire, water." Tara felt a gentle kiss on her neck. "You will add earth." The vampire tugged on her body, and Tara allowed Willow to lead her. "In these walls are hidden all my secrets. You have only to sense them to find them. Besides myself, these walls will only respond to you." They paused before a wall. "Touch, Kitten, and speak."

Tara put out a tentative hand to the white wall, shimmering with the light reflecting off the water. "Reveal," she whispered. Before her the wall softened and then opened, revealing a worn, delicate, sheet of rolled papyrus. At Willow's further encouragement, she pulled the sheet out and unrolled it. Ancient greek text adorned the brittle page.

"Oh! That's my copy of Sappho poetry, Kitten," Willow giggled. "How appropriate that you should find that first." Tara blushed and carefully rolled and placed the papyrus where she had found it. "Conceal," she whispered, and the wall was whole again. Willow nuzzled her neck, then led her near the white chaise. Laying upon the cushioned surface was the white silk robe Tara had worn before.

"In here, you will be my Pet in all that name implies, Kitten," she heard Willow softly explain. "My will, your obedience. There are many things I must teach you for you to be my good pet. One, is that you may not make a sound in this room, unless I allow it." Tara felt the arms around her tighten possessively. "I know you can be very quiet, Kitten," Willow further breathed. "I want to find out how quiet you can be."

"Tonight you are free to speak, Kitten. Your lessons will begin at another time."

Tara turned her head slightly to gaze at the vampire. "Thank you Willow," she softly said.

Willow grinned. Kitten learned so quickly. She felt her witch gently disengage from her.

"Do anything you wish, Kitten," Willow bestowed magnanimously. Her green eyes sparkled as she watched Kitten move back further. She wondered what her witch would like to do. Perhaps explore more of the room.

Tara stepped back to get an appreciative full body view of Willow once more. All that play in the gardens left the vampire's romantic attire appealingly rumpled – which sort of implied a carnal romp in the grass, except there had been none. Yet. A romp anyway. God, Tara just loved that tousled red hair. And the eyeliner. And those slim, tight pants...

"Can I...um, perform a sexual act on you? Here, in your Sanctum?" she propositioned ingenuously, feeling lewdly bold and shy all at once.

"Oh," the redhead simply said. It was amazing how stock still a vampire could get when she was apparently shocked. "Okay."

"Um," Tara hummed as she stepped closer, her appreciation of the vampire's body showing. "I want to play 'rock star and groupie', if that's okay."

"Okay," Willow agreed readily, still brain dumb and wide eyed. Kitten was going to go down on her, in her own Sanctum! Dirty Kitty!

"I want you against the wall," Kitten breathed, as she stood close, not touching. She looked up beneath bedroom lids. "So I can do you."

No-Thought Willow did just as she was asked, literally throwing herself back against the nearest wall. Tara approached, sexy eyed and sensual mouthed, and proceeded to run her hands up and down the curves and surfaces of Willow's chest. This might be the only chance Tara would get, of calling the sexual shots in Willow's own Sanctum. She was going to make the most of it.

"I, I really like your 'Elvis'," she grinned bashfully, but there was a wicked gleam in her blue eyes. She began a slow descent down Willow's body, never breaking eye contact with the vampire's enormous eyes as she sank to her knees. Willow clutched the wall behind her, too turned on for words.

"My 'Elvis' likes you, baby," Willow quipped weakly, as Kitten undid her narrow, studded belt and then the zip of her black pants. Eager hands worked the black material down. She watched as Kitten placed her mouth on her bared, red haired sex and she jerked into a mini orgasm at the sight. Hands held her hips hard in response, and then the glorious tongue fucking began. Willow clung to the wall because she knew she was too excited to just hold Kitten's head and not hurt her. Her responsive moans echoed in the still sanctum and then Kitten's eager sounds – and then – her hips thrusting in time with the – and – Kitten's nose – oooh Kitten!! – and the lips, wrapping – teeth – uh, god, like That –

And then Willow screamed Tara's name, the sanctum walls physically rippling along with Willow's orgasm. Kitten literally sucked another one out of her, and the vampire shuddered, her knees collapsing. Her witch helped her slide bonelessly to the floor.

Angel prowled about the mansion, lost in the dark daydream state of his contemplations. He had just seen Dru to her room, helping her put away her new prezzies. Like in the garden, during the hunting games, she seemed present, nearly focused – less like the irretrievably lost, mad childe he had left behind nearly a century before. However, whatever rare reprieve from the starry whispers that was Dru's insanity soon reached its marked time. Just as Dru set Mr. Peter down at the tea table with Miss Edith, she had looked at Angel then. Gazed at him as if seeing him for the first time, or perhaps, gazed at him as if to express everything a century could not express. In that moment Angel saw the agonized dance of emotions he'd thought madness had long taken away. Then that moment of clarity was gone.

Dru turned away from him, and Angel could feel her slip away, the stars' whispers claiming her eyes and the responses of her body once again. She swayed to a silent song, and when she turned to regard him, it was his old Dru; devilish, demented, and wickedly sensual. With one hand, she touched him intimately, in a very familiar way.

"Stay no more, Daddy, unless you wish to play," she sang songed, and this time when she drifted away from him, her dark eyes held a weighty challenge. Angel silently withdrew, and closed the door to her room.

As Angelus, he would have known what to do. As Angel, he was now torn. Condemnation had been easy, of himself, of his former existence, and of his childer. Seeing Dru again now had his wants war between his long suppressed vampiric, patriarchal urges, and his new, supposedly pure, crusader dedication; to help and serve the Slayer, to somehow find atonement for this life he had left behind.

Unfortunately, the black and white he wished to find solace and purpose in was now rudely becoming shaded with gray. Grays that included a long abandoned, viciously evil life which had also meant abandonment of his not so innocent, yet not so deserving childer; a white magic witch who was willingly becoming a vampire's pet; a Slayer's best friend who was now his strangely undefinable grandchilde.

Angel did not need any more hours of restless brooding to realize that he needed to apply some compromises, for those who he had once cared for, and for those he now cared for. Black and white would have been easier, as easy as living certain lies. Easy would have been never coming here to his former home at all.

He stopped once more before the black, opaque glass doors that were an obvious, and very curious renovation to his old home. The Little One was making a clear statement that she was staying here in Sunnydale. The fact that she had left his room untouched spoke of another implication Angel did not want to consider.

He descended to the first level living area, and built up a roaring fire in the fireplace. Once that was done, he sat back in his former, favorite armchair. He needed something to stare at while he waited for the little childe's return. He had heard her and Tara leave hastily, almost an hour before. No doubt Willow would not return until sunrise if she planned on cuddling with her witch.

If medical study said that sex with Kitten was a natural vampire high, then Willow was in the super stratospheres. The scent of her, the taste of her – mmm, L'essence du Tara. Willow was never washing her hands again. Whistling as merrily as a bird that deserved to be killed, she drove her Impala gaily home. The first fingertips of sunrise were stretching upon the horizon, and Willow felt mighty fine.

Since Kitten had saw fit to debauch Willow in her own sanctum, the vampire in turn felt it only fair to debauch Kitten in her own bed. Once they were safely ensconced in Kitten's dorm room, Willow found the black domino halloween mask she had spotted earlier and put it on. They were now going to play a game she had just thought of – Lady and the Highwayman. She then formed one of her hands in the menacing pantomime of a gun.

Kitten defiantly complied, with some well placed protests and indignant, pouty accusations. Oh, and the blushing! Willow wiggled in her car seat at the memory. My, wasn't she a dastardly, wicked Highwayman!

Once Kitten was 'unwillingly' naked and lying with a lady's last pride upon her bed, Willow proceeded to show Kitten how much she'd enjoyed her witch's attentions earlier. God, but did she taste So Good. She licked and sucked Kitten into oblivion, never wanting to leave that heavenly, hot haven between her thighs. The thoroughly debauched young woman eventually fell exhaustedly asleep, however, so Willow made her reluctant, silent adieu. Her witch would need her rest before her classes. There was no way the vampire was going to be able to sleep with Kitten and not give her a superb, good morning 'happy' as well. Kitten had grades to maintain!

Which then turned Willow's quick mind to the dilemma of how to block 'Willow time' into Kitten's schedule – as well as into Kitten's life. Willow wanted all of her witch's nights, weekends, and non homework time. Of course, if Willow acted the proper, traditional Master, Kitten would be chained up naked by her bed right this minute, never hoping to see daylight, much less any freedom, again. But Willow like to think of herself as a 'progressive' vampire. Very modernish. Non-traditional was how she wanted her Pet, even if other Masters found such treatment ludicrous and beneath their controlling, selfish natures. However, Willow was not like other Masters, and Kitten – Kitten was very much worth her special compromises. Willow sucked contemplatively on the last flavors of Kitten on her fingers as she drove one handed to the mansion, and grinned wetly.

The moment Willow stepped foot in the kitchen, she felt the strong sensation of her grandsire in the house. Damn, the old man was still here.

"Granddad!" she sang out as she entered the living area. "It's nearly dawn. Shouldn't you be somewhere that's not here?"

"Willow, come sit with me," Angel said, as he sat with his fingers steepled before him. Willow suppressed a sigh and did as she was asked, plopping down upon the couch beside his chair. She really hoped she can hold on to the good mood Kitten had given her.

"Would you like anything to drink?" she offered. "I've yet to set up a bar, but I can find you something in the kitchen."

"I'm fine. How do you pay for all of the mansion's renovations anyway?" Angel asked. "It's not like you've been back that long."

"I have my ways," Willow answered dismissively. They weren't particularly illicit ways, although she easily could do that. Keeping Dru in pretty frocks and other comforts through the years had meant reviving her very geeky, yet very resourceful, hacking skills. However, dusting a minor master in San Francisco during one weekend jaunt, and another in San Diego, then seizing their accounts and holdings had been alot more fun. And now that she was set up in Sunnydale, she was going to make some interesting, legal acquisitions.

"I'll accept any offer you give. My solicitor will hand the title over to you. Are you still Willow Rosenberg?"

"Yes, but I want the title made out to my Kitten. Her full name is Tara Maclay."

Angel did not succeed in hiding his astonishment at Willow's request. Masters did not give their Pets such things unless...unless Willow intended to keep her pet for a very long time.

Willow's reaction was not what he expected, but then it seemed to affirm that his decision was right. For a moment, the little childe could only stare at him in shock, her small mouth forming a perfect 'oh' of astonishment. Then, very quickly, a casual, calculated mask slipped into place. Willow sat back and shook a finger at him.

"No," she said. "It was never a consideration of mine, anyway. Besides, you're setting me up."

"Save it, Angel. Either you're putting me in the perfect position to be staked by the new Slayer, since you can't do the job yourself, or hoping I'll be your lapdog, just because I'm childer. Nice try, Angel. Good night." Willow stood up and made her way to the staircase.

"Willow!" Angel's long strides easily caught up with his grandchilde as she took the stairs by eager twos. "How did you know someone had been Called?" No one but he and Giles – and Buffy – knew that the Slayer had briefly died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Thankfully, she was revived, but now he and the Watcher were waiting for the newly Chosen to arrive in Sunnydale.

"Dru, of course," Willow replied as she entered her bedroom. She was going to bed, nagging grandpoof be damned. She began to strip off her clothes.

"I'm not setting you up," Angel admonished, as he entered the room. "You are a powerful childe, which, by the way, I want you to explain how that came to be, sometime. It's obvious you can't just be a Master merely living here. You'll have to be the one who controls this town. Why not, and work out a deal with the Slayer while doing so?"

"You really think I'm dim," Willow scoffed as she hung her clothes and threw the poet's shirt into a closet hamper. She was blissfully nude, and Angel was not above briefly appreciating the sight of her slim, long limbed body. When Willow was human, he had always thought her a beautiful young woman.

"Instead of trying to control the evil undead through me, why not be Master yourself?" Willow suggested. She disappeared into her bathroom suite – the one she shared with Kitten's room. A brief thought of Kitten in the spacious tub made her smile. She proceeded to remove the make-up from her eyes.

"Just because you have a soul doesn't mean you can't do the job," Willow added, knowing her grandsire could still hear her. "Oh, but wait, you have your own, special, 'I'm a loner' destiny to fulfill, don't you."

"Little One," she heard growled menacingly from her bedroom. Willow grinned as she wiped as much of the eye makeup off as she could. There was a mirror installed in this bathroom for Kitten's benefit, but of course it didn't help Willow. She'll have to ask Dru in the evening if she got it all off. Or –

Her grandsire obliged, entering the bath suite and cupping her face with his large hands. He took the make up remover tissue from her and proceeded to gently clean one of her eyes.

"When I was human," Willow breathed. "And those times we spent in the school library, researching, and you were being Buffy's...'boyfriend'?"

"Did you...like me?" Willow asked in a small girl's voice. "Did you like me a little?"

"Good," Willow grinned in his cupped hands. "Cuz I liked you too." She tilted her head up, offering.

Angel kissed his little one on her forehead, long and lingering, and then could not resist the offer of her mouth too. He meant to kiss her mouth chastely, but a long denied attraction for his Slayer's best friend made a little play for her mouth too. He tasted a woman's deliciously salty, sexy essence upon her lips, the enticing scent of which had surrounded the little one since she'd entered the house. Tara. When the kiss ended, Willow was smiling happily. She skipped away from his hands and then leapt upon her bed, ripping the covers back.

"When you're Master of Sunnydale," Angel chose to say, as he slowly reentered Willow's bedroom.

"Oh piffle!" was all he heard as the little one burrowed herself within the bed.

"When you're Master," Angel continued in good humor, leaning over the bed. Red hair and annoyed green eyes were all he could see. "One of the Slayer's conditions would be no killing by you and those you rule."

"All the more reason for me and mine to be footloose and fancy free," Willow's muffled voice said.

Angel pursed his lips. "Wouldn't not killing make Kitten more happy?" he suggested.

Angel-dad merely smiled and gave her a parting kiss on the forehead. Once the door clicked behind her grandsire, Willow snuggled once more beneath the covers. She clutched a pillow to her. Of course Kitten would be terribly happy if Willow and Dru did not kill people, but she certainly didn't have to become Master of Sunnydale for that to come true.

"Wills would call herself and Xand the Slayerettes," Buffy shared, as she ate another spoonful of a much appreciated chocolate pudding snack Tara had snuck into the hospital room for her. It was nearing evening, and Buffy had already told Tara some of her fondest memories of her best friends, as she lay flat and incapacitated in the bed. "They were my original Scoobies. Then there was Oz, Cordelia, and then Larry and Amy. It was funny because Wills and Xand were mortal enemies of Cordy since they were pre-schoolers. Cordy was a mega bitch and leader of the coolest chick clique at Sunnydale High. Wills and Xand liked to say they were co-presidents of the 'We Hate Cordelia Chase' club. I think I was the treasurer."

Tara smiled. She took the now thoroughly cleaned pudding container from the prone girl.

"Funny, I guess..." Buffy trailed off, pain and sorrow clouding some of the fondness that had been in her hazel eyes. "I guess that's why when they got Turned they both tore out Cordelia's throat first."

"I staked Xand a month ago, before we took out the Master," Buffy confessed, her eyes intense and faraway. "He was really strong. It was really hard having to stake him, but at the same time, all I could see was my Xander shaped friend and also see how incredibly evil he had become. I mean really evil." Buffy turned her eyes to Tara. "It makes me wonder how you can stand to be with Willow."

"This Willow..." Tara hesitated. She hardly understood the complexities of this vampire herself. "After what you've told me, this Willow s-seems to resemble her Willow shape very strongly."

"How can that be?" Buffy whispered, emotions conflicting in her face. She held Tara's hand tightly.

"I don't know. But she said some things to me that first night, which make me think she's been through alot. Things that taught her t-to control her demon impulses. D-develop other strengths."

"It only makes her sound more dangerous," Buffy asserted. The more dangerous vampires were the cunning ones. And Willow was practically a genius before she was Turned. Buffy loosened her fingers when she realized she was holding Tara's too tightly in her worry. Slayer strength.

"Tara....has she hurt you at all? Has she...I don't mean to judge you or anything. I totally know that if you had tried refusing her nothing would have stopped her, short of dusting." The Slayer took a breath. "Has she...has she done anything?"

"No Buffy. She hasn't hurt me at all. She's been very good to me." Tara blushed and looked away.

"Okay," Buffy finally acknowledged. She'd only known Tara a short while, but in that time she never felt the older girl lie to her. Although the assurance made her relieved, it also made the Slayer even more wary. Wolves in sheeps' underwear and all that. Buffy smiled. "That good, huh?"

Tara just blushed harder. She regarded the Slayer from beneath her eyelashes. "Does it bother you? My being with someone...like that?"

"Okay, honest? Majorly wigged. But I've kissed Angel, yet another undead person we both know, so who am I to talk."

Buffy stared wistfully at Tara then. "So I guess Wills is a major evil hottie now, huh?"

"Something like that," Tara grinned, the one corner of her mouth sneaking up in that unique, sensual manner that was all Tara's own. Buffy couldn't help smiling back.

"She was," Buffy began, and then her face scrunched up suddenly, as another, more intense emotion overtook her. Her hazel eyes grew wide and began to glisten. "She was very sweet, you know? When I saw her at the water fountain that first time, and Cordelia had ripped into her, I just saw something...really special."

Buffy stayed silent a moment, lost in cherished memory. What sorrow she had tampered down since her best friend's death now rose, and her voice shook with the truths she had finally discovered, held so deep.

"What I've realized now was so precious. She was what I was meant to protect. She was what I was fighting for."

The tears fell, and Tara wiped them gently from the Slayer's pained face, knowing she was finally grieving for her lost friend.

Tara sighed, the melancholy after her visit with Buffy still wrapping her with its sadnesses. Hearing about the Willow she never knew and who was now lost to this world, had grieved her as well. She had not wanted to appear upset in front of Buffy, so she had waited until she'd left the Slayer's room to cry a little in the hospital lobby. God, she hadn't known.

She hugged herself as the night air chilled her slightly, and watched patiently as the cab driver whose cab she'd taken, radioed in his blown tire and waiting fare. They were at the edge of the park, and Tara definitely felt that this was not a good place to be at. Even as she gave the surroundings another cautious look, she heard something metal-like, grate ominously.

"Ma'am?" the cabbie asked in return, rising slightly out of his open car door to regard her. He had his radio mike in his hand. Tara stood on the park sidewalk on the other side of the cab.

A vampire, full demon face on, rose suddenly from an uncovered manhole behind the cabbie. Before the cab driver could turn around, the creature had already leapt behind him, snarling.

"REPULSE!" Tara commanded, gesturing, and the vampire immediately flew back. More of his brethren emerged from the sewer manhole – very quickly. Tara thought it prudent to as quickly jump for the cab's passenger cab door. The cab driver, unfortunately had other ideas.

"W-w-wait!!" Tara yelled, as the cab immediately reversed, pulling the door handle away from her. The cab hightailed it away from the curb in a smoking mess of burnt and broken rubber.

"Oh! That's j-just not – " Tara nearly stamped her foot as the cowardly cabbie's rear lights bade her farewell. Then she saw the menacing hulks of several vampires rush for her. Tara turned and ran.

One vamp she could handle. Up to three, she could handle. But never had she faced a gang of them all by herself before. She had always been too smart to be caught in such a situation, but now the Hellmouth odds had stacked against her. Tara ran for the trees – wood was her friend, and she badly needed some at the moment. Two vamps raced ahead of her, cutting her off. Tara whirled abruptly and gestured.

"Repulse!" she cried, barely forcing back the four that pursued her. She spied a branch, snatched it with her magic, and sent it hurtling behind her. She hit at least one of the vamps blocking her way to the trees. She missed his heart, giving the vamp a bloody hole in his chest, but the second one she didn't. As that one fell to dust, she felt a fist whistle in the air behind her. Instinctively she stepped into the blow, ducking under it even as she came up into the vampire's body. It was a trick she'd learned dealing with her brother Donnie, even though the move tended to fuel his drunken rages further.

"Ignite," she whispered, and pushed the vampire as hard as she could into the three behind him. Tara felt the heat from the flames that erupted upon his arm. As the vamp screamed, lighting up like a Molotov cocktail, Tara turned to make her escape. That was when a harsh grip clamped on her arm and threw her roughly to the ground. She struggled to get up, then backpedaled as a fist flew for her face. She saw stars.

When Tara came to, she heard male voices yelling. For a moment, she thought she was back home on dad's farm. She felt cool earth and grass beneath her hand. No. No, this was still the park.

" – you fuck up! Are you newly risen or something?! That's a Master's Pet, her mark's radiating power! You don't eat a fuckin' Master's Pet!"

"Shut the hell up!" Tara heard shoving. "So what if you used to serve Aurelius, that Order is gone! All of them are gone! Her Master's probably staked and she managed to get loose. She put a hole in me, so I'm eating her!"

Tara heard more shoving. As her vision began to clear, she thought it best to make herself quietly scarce.

"Stay down!" she heard snarled somewhere above her, and felt something hit her face again. Tara collapsed and stayed down. The kick that came next to her side was really – unnecess – ary – oh god –

Dru was running. Actually, she was more of a 'sweep effortlessly across the ballroom floor and give the sir a curtsy' type of athlete. Dru did not like to run unless in dire circumstance. Doing so from the new smelly thing in town quite hurt her vampire pride, but this smelly one was really persistent – annoyingly, single-mindedly so. Although Dru had spent decades giving such odious creatures the slip – while her Spike, in contrast, persisted in trying to kill them – this particular one was not letting her go. Dru was annoyed. And not only that, the stars were extremely agitated and Dru hadn't the moment to pause and find out what was the matter. They did whisper of what directions to take through the trees, so she followed. As she ran, she saw some fledglings come into view. Bad, bad birdies! screamed her stars.

The minion who had picked up Cubby by her honey hair, exposing her neck, no longer had a head himself by the time Dru's clawed hand finished swiping through the air the head once inhabited. Dru wrapped an arm around Cubby and snarled, demon faced, challenging the remaining minions. She then pointed.

"Behind you," she hissed. Surprised, the vampires glanced back. A small, powerful, young black woman was racing towards them, stake in hand. The minions roared and ran to engage her.

"Is that – what?" Tara said, disorientated, as she watched the young woman swiftly counterattack the vampires.

Tara cried out in pain and Dru immediately stopped moving her. It never failed, someone always had to kick her, right there. She clutched her side.

"We must go," Dru whispered urgently. She attempted to pick Tara up again, then stopped. She stared curiously at Tara's mouth.

She felt the swirl of Dru's cool tongue as it easily found entry into her surprised mouth.

It sought out the bloody wound from where the first blow had forced her inner cheek to rip against her molars, and then retreated to cleanse the split on her lip from the second blow. When Dru finally raised her head, Tara felt thoroughly kissed. The young woman stared dumbly, not sure what to think.

"Was roight," Dru smiled wickedly, as she effortlessly picked up Tara in her slender arms. "Cubby's verrry yummy." Her body stiffened then, and her face snarled. Tara swiveled her head to look and saw the new Slayer rapidly approaching.

"W-wait!" Tara cried out, hand out to block the upraised stake. The intense, young Slayer stared in surprise.

"If you have not noticed, dat is a vampire!" the Slayer stated forcefully, moving into a new position as Dru also moved. Tara swayed in the elder vampire's arms. The Slayer's thick accent was intriguing. Tara guessed that maybe it was Jamaican.

"Yes, but – she's a friend! My very – good friend, and I would be really sad if you s-stake her, so please don't," Tara pleaded, as the Slayer once again tried to move around Dru. The elder vampire easily countered. Tara was getting dizzy.

"Woman, I can't believe what you are saying!" the Slayer looked amazed and was obviously getting frustrated. Her dark eyes narrowed. "You be on somet'ing," she concluded. "You won't be sad for your 'friend' long." she feint a lunge and Dru stepped easily back. Tara couldn't see Dru, her focus entirely on the aggressive, stake wielding warrior before them, but she was certain the elder vampire was taunting in some subtle, silent way.

"I swear, I'm not high!" Tara protested. "Look, I'm a witch, a-and we can have vampires for friends." Actually, Tara had never heard of that happening in actuality, but historically, supposedly –

"A-and I also know your predecess-ss-s – " God, her stupid mouth. Tara took a very deep breath. "I know the Slayer before you. She's s-still alive and at the hospital. L-let's just go over there, it's only a few blocks, okay?"

Tara was seated once more in the hospital lobby, and she was finding this recurring situation pretty tiresome. She didn't want to be admitted again. All she could think about was her student insurance bill. The new Slayer – Kendra – was speaking to the Watcher, Giles, who thankfully was visiting Buffy when the wary threesome consisting of the new Slayer, the witch, and the vampire had entered the building. That had been quite an experience, getting the other two to the hospital without either killing the other. Kendra was not much for open-minded tolerance, Tara quickly learned. Buffy was as much a 'see evil, kill evil' kind of girl, but she had the capacity to listen – a little. She felt Dru kneel beside her and touch her hurt side.

"How bad is it?" Tara whispered. Dru smiled, cat lidded, up at her as her hands spanned the hurt area. Tara felt a penetrating, cool sensation.

"Nothing t' knit," Dru reassured, and then Tara felt a deep warmth. "Just a big bruisey. Inside too, but nothing popped and swelly."

"Oh good. I want to go home," Tara sighed. Willow was on her way. She and Dru had retrieved her shoulder bag where she had dropped it, and Tara had called Willow on the cell the red haired vampire had given her. To say that Willow was extremely upset by the little she had heard of the night's events was an understatement. Dru planted a soft kiss on Tara's lips, which effectively brought the witch out of her musings.

"Kendra explained what happened," Angel said, his concerned look taking in Tara's more apparent injuries. He was incensed. The minions who had blatantly disregarded a Master's claim merely sentenced themselves to very slow deaths. In this instance, Angel was actually sorry the new Slayer had been so thorough. However, since that left Willow with no actual perpetrators to punish, that would mean she would set her attention upon the entire undead population left in Sunnydale – as any Master worth her undead salt would.

"Yes," Dru agreed, as she caressed Tara's bruised face. "Precious will be very thorough," the elder vampire added with dark glee.

Tara merely looked from one vampire to the other, bewildered. She thought all of her attackers had been dusted.

"This is already healing," she heard Angel say, his large, cool hand reaching to cup her chin. A gentle thumb touched the split of her lower lip. Tara's surprised eyes darted to Dru, who only looked secretly smug. Tara swallowed.

First Dru kissed her, and now Angel was touching her. Maybe she should ask Willow a bit more about what being a Pet means – like maybe she was more a-a-a 'Family Pet'?

Tara's heartbeat accelerated and Angel dropped his hand. She heard Mr. Giles call for Angel. Kendra, by the Watcher's side, was looking...very perplexed. And annoyed. And was staring perplexed and annoyed right at her.

Tara watched with relief as Kendra left the lobby with Angel, whom the new Slayer regarded very warily. Mr. Giles approached her.

"Tara," the older British man addressed softly. His glasses glinted under the florescents as he gazed down upon her. His handsome features only contained concern, and kindness.

"I must say, child, you've certainly placed yourself in a very interesting circumstance since we last saw each other," he continued in his patented, understated manner. Tara fully smiled despite the pain of her lip. She was very glad the Watcher did not seem disgusted by her current 'circumstance'. She valued the older man's opinion highly.

"Y-you're not offended?" she asked softly, checking to make sure as she watched the man's warm, pale eyes.

"Surprised, yes. Deeply worried, yes, but I can never be offended by anything that concerns you, Tara, unless it were mistreatment of you." The Watcher knelt and took Tara's wrist that was encircled with her slave bracelet. "Though I've heard you've entered this arrangement willingly, I'm certain it is your way of handling a situation that really, in actuality, left you no choice. You are a very brave girl. I pray for the very best for you."

"Thank you, Sir," Tara whispered, despite the lump in her throat. Her eyes filled with grateful tears.

Giles stood and patted the girl's shoulder reassuringly. He had always been an emotionally conservative man. What comfort he had offered Tara was not in his usual character, but the young woman seemed to evoke such emotional response from him. It would perhaps be useful if he could show the same towards Buffy, but then, Buffy was Buffy.

Now, if only the vampiress hovering around Tara would stop regarding him like he were American prime rib. How very disconcerting.

A blast of cool air suddenly disturbed the small group, as the double doors of the hospital entrance burst open. In strolled a slim, black clad figure whose long leather coat whipped behind her. Cold, furious, green eyes flashed in a pale, slender face, and bright red hair waft in her wake. The newcomer had eyes for only one person.

Tara shivered, she couldn't help herself. She had not seen Willow like this since that first night, and even then the vampire was not as angry as she was now. She wasn't really afraid for herself, but then, Willow's anger naturally made her fear – for something. Tara felt the Watcher's warm hand grip her shoulder reassuringly as Willow's slim figure approached. The vampire stopped before her, staring down with focused intensity. Her pale hands reached out and touched her face. Tara realized Willow's cool hands were trembling.

"Kitten," she heard the vampire breathe, the soft tone actually sounding shaky. Willow knelt before her, large green eyes still riveted to her face. Willow leaned forward and gently licked the entirety of the harsh bruise on her cheek. She then kissed and sucked in the injured lowered lip. Then she gently forced Tara's mouth open and thrust her tongue inside.

Tara felt Willow's cool tongue swipe repeatedly at the wound of her inner cheek. Like Dru's exploration, it soothed the pain. When Willow finally removed her mouth from Tara's it was to allow the young woman to gasp for air. She realized belatedly that Mr. Giles' hand no longer comforted her shoulder. It's possible that there was only so much a Watcher could watch.

"Mummy's been in your mouth, Kitten," she heard Willow softly exclaim in surprise.

"I – " Tara began, feeling horrified. Willow kissed her suddenly, effectively stopping whatever Tara thought she could say. Willow pulled away once more.

"Again?" Willow frowned. She placed a hand on the injury indicated, then looked up at Kitten. "It will heal by morning," she assured. "Mummy has begun the process. Now you've no reason to miss your morning exam," the vampire smiled.

"Yippee," Tara drily murmured, smiling with a relief not inspired by test taking. That was the first time Willow had actually smiled since entering the hospital fit to kill – everything. She was so glad to see less of angry Willow. The vampire stood up and caressed Tara's face.

"I want you home with me, but I know you wanted to study tonight for your test. Take my car." Willow handed Tara her keys. "Go to your dorm room now, and Mum will go with you. Mummy will leave you alone to study." Willow turned pointedly to her sire, as if to emphasize the words to her. "But she will need to sneak back into your room before dawn and sleep. Will that be all right with you, Kitten?"

"Yes," Tara assured without reservation. "I-I'll drive her back home tomorrow evening." She rose with the keys clutched to her chest.

"You're so good, Kitten," Willow praised, kissing her on the lips. "You do know how to drive stick," she thought to check.

"For you, I do," Tara grinned, which grew when she saw the answering mirth in Willow's green eyes. Thankfully, the vampire got the innuendo. And it was beside the point that Tara had driven things like trucks since she was fifteen.

"Go now," Willow bade softly. "I have things to take care of, or else I'd be with you. But I know you'll be safe with Mum." This time, it was Kitten who leaned forward to give a lingering kiss goodbye. Willow intently watched her witch and sire exit the hospital doors. She turned to face the Watcher.

Giles, for his part, had felt the need to stay with Tara for her safety when the Willow vampire had entered. Then when their interaction progressed, he felt the need to observe. Had they been two ordinary women, the Watcher would have left them easily to privacy, but the fact that one of the women was Willow, a vampire who acted so out of character for such a creature, intrigued him immensely.

The things Angel had been explaining to him about their former young friend seemed extraordinary, yet the evidence stood before him. This vampire Willow, to a certain, plausible degree, acted very much like the human friend they knew, albeit with a darker, frightening side. And to Giles' estimation, the human-like personality traits seemed far too elaborate an act to be false. However, no matter how human-like this vampire appeared to be, it was still a vampire, and therefore not to be grossly underestimated.

"Willow," Giles greeted, staring down at a face as sweet as the one he remembered. "Your absence has certainly brought you change."

"That is an understatement," Willow laughed. To hear the vampire laugh like his one time young friend pained Giles unexpectedly. Unlike Buffy, he came to terms with Willow's death as soon as it happened. It still did not ease the pain, however.

"Willow," Giles began, feeling it best to get to the heart of at least one matter. The other one Angel had raised, he felt could be dealt with later. Especially when there was a new Slayer to update on the situation. "Where Tara is concerned, it seems that your intentions are...more considerate than would normally be expected."

"She brings out the best in me," Willow quipped, then regarded the Watcher more seriously. "I intend to take very good care of her."

"See that you do," Giles replied, but instead of the restrained civility of his usual tone, his quiet voice carried an edge. A dark, warning edge. A small sign of the old Ripper of his past.

Willow smiled slightly. She liked seeing that. Giles was definitely not to be underestimated.

"Expect no less of me, and I'll expect no less of all of you," she softly smirked. She then turned from the Watcher, concluding their conversation. "I have business to finish tonight. Thank you for being here for Kitten. I know you mean alot to her. As you have," Willow paused to give the Watcher a meaningful regard. "To the young people in your past."

And with that, the vampire disappeared through the swinging entrance doors, leaving Giles to contemplate one deep regret, and very personal sorrow.

All it had taken were a few words from Dru. Kitten had been exasperatingly evasive on the phone with explaining what had happen to her. A kind of 'I walked into the door' kind of explanation. But then her sire had insisted that the phone be turned over to her, and with just a few words, Willow went ballistic.

"Minions threatened yours," her sire's deadly voice had warned. That was enough. It was enough to indicate the grave insult, and her great failure. Willow will now have to make every single lower level vampire in Sunnydale pay.

She had been at the farthest end of town when Kitten was attacked. Parked in the warehouse district near the docks, she had been checking on the reconstruction of the Bronze. She broke every traffic law to get to the hospital. Now that she had seen Kitten safely away with Mum, she could begin her dirty work.

She took out the map of Sunnydale. Her coat's pockets gave up some other ingredients needed for her spell. Isolating herself in the hospital's sparse garden, she cast. The map glowed bright until it faded to random dottings. They indicated the locations of all her brethren, and the brightest dots, of those of her Blood, the Order of Aurelius. Willow went to the park Kitten was attacked at and dropped herself neatly down the sewer access.

It didn't matter that the actual attackers had been dusted. What mattered was that Kitten had been attacked at all. If the demon world was not aware of Willow, then Willow would make them aware. She had forgotten, and it was truly remiss of her, but those in this reality of Sunnydale did not know her actual reputation, cultivated by nearly two decades of destruction. No one here knew of Willow the World Killer – Willow The Wicked, to her better acquaintances. Her reputation here would indeed have to be...reintroduced.

The first few nests she found in the sewers, she massacred, allowing a random fledge to 'escape' and spread the word of a pissed off Master named Willow who didn't like her Pet being mistreated. As she worked her way out in a three mile radius from the original attack site, Willow began leaving messages – mutilated, hung, and crucified minions who would probably stay alive for a few more days unless some demon actually took pity on them. She of course left their mouths and throats intact so that they might share their story.

Willow stepped down from a connecting sewer channel into a main artery, leaving behind an armless, legless minion hanging upside down in the sewer's intersection. Anyone passing through the four connections could not, of course, avoid that thoroughfare. The minion's loud sobs echoed in every direction of the sewer system, and Willow thought it a remarkably apt accompaniment to the dark fury she was still in, three hours after Kitten's attack.

One would think that a Master like herself was supposed to take care of any of her brethren, regardless of where they came from, but that was not how vampires worked. Anyone not of her Blood were to be wiped out, and any not of her immediate Family was fair game to also be wiped out, should they choose to threaten her. Willow did not believe in taking in the minions of vanquished foes. Willow never met an outsider minion or lower fledge worth giving her protection to. Willow also loathed making her own minions, despite the natural instinct of Masters to 'spread and multiply'. Willow was a power to be reckoned with all by herself, she had no need to proliferate. She was contrary like that.

Therefore, in a situation like this, it would aid her household greatly if she were to recruit a certain...addition. And preferably of her Blood.

Willow pulled the enchanted map from her coat pocket and checked the location of one of the brightest dots.

After a very hot shower, and a few hot tears in that same hot water – a bit of post-trauma relief for Tara – the young woman was finally feeling a bit like herself, although wearily so. Back in her dorm room, she ate a meager little dinner and comforted herself with a hot chocolate. Dru was not there, as Tara knew she wouldn't be. As soon as Tara had invited the elder vampire into her room, Dru wasted no time in leaving, eager to see what young ducks did to their brains in these booky places. Tara did not want to think of Dru eating some student. The mad vampire had saved her life; it was not her right to ask Dru if she wouldn't mind not killing, at least for tonight. Tara sighed wearily and opened her books to study.

The cell phone chimed its little ditty, signaling a call from Willow. Tara immediately answered.

"Kitten," she heard the vampire breath. "Are you in your dorm room?" Willow's voice sounded a little strange, like she were in an echoey place.

"Yes, a-are you all right?" Tara asked, thinking of how angry Willow had been earlier.

"N-no Willow, Dru has left." Tara bit her healing lip. Mentioning the elder vampire made her worried again.

"No Willow. E-everything's fine. Dru is out, with all the other s-s-students." The moment Tara said that, she realized her error. Her concern was evident, even in that vague statement. Maybe she really – their killing people...she was not dealing well. Mr. Giles and Buffy were correct about how she hadn't a real choice in entering this contract with Willow, but somehow she will have to come to terms with everything about their vampire nature. She won't survive this arrangement if she couldn't.

"Kitten!" the vampire admonished. She laughed. "How can you ever apologize for wanting us not to kill? Beautiful thing, you shouldn't be so concerned about our feelings. We're reputed to not have any, anyway. Fiend, here, remember?"

"I will ask Dru not to kill people," she heard Willow promise. "After a century of living, a vampire is strong enough to not need the kill as often. I've fed on...unique beings myself. Ordinary mortal blood doesn't quite do it for me anymore, anyway."

"Willow," Tara whispered. She was very moved by this incredible gesture. A simple thanks seemed so inadequate.

"I want there to be no reason for you to be upset," the vampire said. "No more tears for my Kitten."

When Willow finally ended her call to Kitten, she happened to look down at her coat front. The last minion she'd chopped up had sprayed blood on her. How irritating. That same minion's loud sobs continued to echo faintly in the sewer tunnels. She was certain Kitten hadn't heard it on the phone. At least she certainly hoped so. Perhaps that was enough of making others weep tonight. She had a somebody to see – or kill, depending on her reception.

Willow stretched up and pulled the manhole cover in place, now that her cell phone call was finished. She jumped down and strolled further down the tunnel and then placed a hand upon the wall, opening up her sense of hearing.

"...excuse me, but did I say get that? No, I didn't say get that. I said 'Boombox. With. Batteries.' Like, hello where do you think you're gonna plug that?! Does your ass come with a socket? Should I check?!"

Willow grinned slightly. That same old, horrid voice. If Cordy's words were like precise, deadly whips, this girl's was like the purest poison, sprayed in one's face like a cobra's.

"...and what the fuck's up with these cds? Beach Boys?! Does this look like a lair that plays Beach Boys?!"

"...maybe if I wrapped everything in pigskin, you'd know what to do with your hands, geez, fumble much? I – wait a minute."

And then the voice silenced. Willow smiled briefly. She knows. Willow listened a little more with her fingers as she walked, only picking up the hint of hissed, frantic whispers. She finally removed her hand.

Further down the tunnel, a young female vampire emerged, dressed in tight black jeans and tee, with a figure that rivaled her Kitten's in voluptuousness. But even when Willow was alive she had never thought this cruel, blonde bitch attractive. More like hell's gift of a harpie.

"Willow?" she heard the girl's sharp voice demand. Yes, same old voice. But this time, with a little something Willow had never heard before; the thread of trepidation.

"Willow?" the blonde vampire's voice rose slightly, her senses, as she stared at the approaching redhead, obviously alerting the blonde to things she wasn't liking. "Will? Willster?"

Harmony's scent of fear increased, but she stood her ground. A long handled ax rested against the wall near her, but the blonde vampire made no move for it. Who would have thunk, Harmony the Harpie and former Cordette was showing major backbone, Willow thought, bemused.

"What brings you down here, Will?" Harmony asked, as she cautiously took in the redhead.

"You haven't heard?" Willow asked pleasantly in return, stopping before the blonde. Interestingly enough, Harmony radiated her own level of vampiric power. She looked to be hardly four months old, yet her blood was definitely...familiar.

At that moment, a minion's running footsteps were heard, approaching behind Harmony.

"Boss! There's – oh shit," the minion exclaimed, catching sight of Willow. He stopped at a distance behind Harmony. The minion had a strong signature as well, which was very unlike his kind. Harmony, apparently, was a bit indulgent in Turning lower fledges.

"Perhaps you should tell your boss what you know," Willow quietly suggested, studying the young man. Cute, suburban bred good looks, with a broad, well built, athlete's body, and a nice tall height a girl liked to dance with. Willow wouldn't be surprised if this type was Harmony's minion fetish.

"A-a Master, here to clean out nests. Left some messages. Minions had hurt her Pet." The lower fledge licked his lips nervously. Cute mouth.

"Will, sorry to hear about your Pet," Harmony stated, and Willow was surprised to hear actual sincerity in the words. "My boys know not to do stupid crap like that."

"You've strong boys," Willow observed lightly. The scent of apprehension from Harmony increased.

"Troy, inside," she said sharply. As soon as the lower fledge disappeared, Harmony faced Willow. "Will, I'm not going to challenge you. Me and mine are no threat. You're totally the alpha bitch."

"Good to know," Willow commented, softly smiling. She had to love Harm's frankness.

"I mean it, Will," Harmony said nervously. "I want no trouble. I'll even take me and the boys out of town, if that's what you want."

Willow studied the blonde vampire, ignoring her words. "Whose childe are you, Harm?" she asked.

"Xander's," Harmony spat. "And he always referred to me as a mistake. He didn't want a childe, he wanted something to fuck and break."

Willow was pleased. So that was the familiar scent. And the power. Xander was Turned by the Master himself. Her human self's childhood best friend was, upon his Rising, a remarkably strong childe. Incredibly careless and destructive, but impressive. Willow had heard that it was Buffy's stake that ended him.

"Luke," Harmony replied. "He was an S.O.B. not to fuck with. That's probably why he has no surviving childer."

"Being a Hand of the Master required a rod up the ass, as well as in both hands," Willow observed pleasantly. Harm's story just kept getting better. "You don't much like the Order, do you, Harm?"

For the first time during their conversation, Willow saw the familiar flash of the blonde girl's patented acid attack gaze. Surprisingly, the Harmony rainstorm of vitriolic words did not appear.

"What's there to like?" she shot back defiantly – and with uncharacteristic terseness. "How about you, Will?"

"Harm, in Willow's house, there is only me," and Willow put a delicate hand to her chest. "And mine. And as you said..." And then Willow's voice dropped, soft and deadly. "I'm alpha Bitch."

Harmony said nothing, but only watched Willow, her adrenaline suddenly scenting the air. The blonde vampire's hands curled into fists.

"Harm serves Will," she simply said. "Me and mine, yours to do with as you, uh...as you will," she finished lamely, grimacing at the stupid rhyme. She flipped her blonde hair back and bared her neck.

Willow trailed a finger first down the vulnerable column, then placed slender hands on both of Harmony's shoulders. Her old high school nemesis still smelled of vanilla, and strangely enough, cocoa butter. Willow sank her teeth in deep and drank.

When Willow finally straightened, Harmony was trembling, her arousal and frustration evident. Willow made a shallow cut in her wrist with a fang, then held it above Harmony's open mouth. The blonde vampire swallowed the few drops Willow allowed, and then suddenly collapsed, arching and moaning.

"God had nothing to do with it," Willow smirked, and licked her own wrist clean.

Dawn made its warmth known. It changed the air, it brought its light and made its ageless promise upon the earth once more; a new day beginning. Tara's internal clock worked with the dawn. She was raised doing morning chores before school, but it wasn't just a farm girl's lifestyle that attuned her to the sun's rising. Her body responded to the assurance the arrival of the sun brought, in that early, early change of night to day. What leather belts, fists, and harsh words did at night, ended, and dawn was the promise that she had survived. Time for a new day.

Tara woke, eyes still shut, feeling the familiar change in the air. She opened her eyes to a dark room, remembering that she had secured the curtains closed for Dru. She turned slightly to look at the nude, cool body that clung to her possessively. Willow.

The red hair was damp. She wasn't even smirking in her sleep, she looked dead tired. Dru was smooshed against the wall and wrapped around Willow. It was amazing that they all fit in her bed, even with the vampires as slender as they were. Tara disengaged herself as gently as possible. Willow's arms looked so empty, so she put a pillow in them, which the vampire immediately curled around.

Tara dressed and prepared for the day quickly. Willow was right, her side felt almost normal again, and the bruise on her cheek had faded to yellow already. She noticed that Willow had used her bath kit, so she put it away. The vampire had also brought her breakfast; orange juice, bagels, and cream cheese. There was even a coffee.

"Be careful...I could fall in love with you," she whispered, smiling to see such a considerate gift. She ate her breakfast.

When Tara was about to exit her door, she noticed the plastic bag that lay beside it and Willow's long leather coat draped over it. Curious, Tara lifted the coat a little, only to be assaulted with a foul odor. The bag contained Willow's clothes and shoes, and by the look and smell of them, she had been busy doing...dirty work. When Tara dropped the coat back on the pile, she saw the blood stains.

Tara glanced at the vampires snug asleep in her bed. Through the drawn curtains, morning's warmth radiated. Quietly, Tara made her exit from her room.

Willow found that it was pretty easy to navigate Kitten's dorm building in the daylight. The light that filtered into the laundry room was indirect enough not to give the vampire a burn, but bright enough to prickle her skin uncomfortably. She bounced a little on the working washing machine she sat cross-legged upon. She'd already scrubbed her boots squeaky clean and wiped down her coat, although the coat probably needed drycleaning anyway. As the hard working washer bounced her some more, she gazed idly for the tenth time at Kitten's laundry card.

A girl entered with a basketful of laundry. She looked at Willow critically, taking in the tousled redhead's pale, bare feet, rolled up yoga pants, and oversized tee shirt.

"Sorry," Willow replied, and jumped off. "How long do these washers take, anyway?"

"Twenty minutes," the girl answered, as she started one up. "And the dryer's ten minute increments. If you're lucky to get one that actually dries."

Willow picked up Kitten's soap box and left the laundry room. She dodged the sunbeams that lit the stairs and then made her way through the few passing students for Kitten's room. Once inside, she grabbed one of her witch's older, magic texts and plopped unceremoniously against her sleeping sire.

When Tara reentered her dorm room in the late afternoon, she was greeted by a whirlwind of red. Slender arms lifted her easily into the air. She heard a feminine growl as she was spun from the door. Tara laughed.

"Missed you, Kitten," Willow breathed. Tara could not help placing a gentle hand to the vampire's sweet face. How easily she could lose herself in those expressive green eyes.

Tara finally noticed the very fragrant, steaming take out containers on her desk.

"Oh, Willow!" she cried. She turned back to the vampire, her warm blue eyes shining. "I love Indian! Thank you!"

"You're welcome to everything I have," Tara smiled. Her nose wrinkled in mirth. "I'm sorry my clothes are a little big on you." Willow's rumpled, barefooted figure just looked so adorable. She looked nothing like a killer, but more like a very sweet, innocent girl. Tara was suddenly reminded of Buffy's stories of the human Willow. Her smile faded slightly.

"I don't care if they're big on me, they are meant for," and then Willow caressed up and down Kitten's sides. "A perrrfect body," she purred. Kitten lowered her eyes bashfully.

"Oh," she said, as Willow stepped in to explore with her hands more attentively. "Dru is still here." The elder vampire was still curled up beneath the bedcovers, as still as stone.

"Mum always sleeps the day away. Myself, I sleep less," Willow informed. "More time for Kitty." Her cool hands came up to fondle.

"I-I have evening classes," Tara apologized. "In an hour." She glanced uncertainly at Dru, who still made an immobile lump in her bed.

"I know," Willow pouted. Reluctantly, she stilled her hands. "I will hate Wednesdays. Come eat, Kitten. I'll have to leave at dusk anyway. More business tonight."

"Yes Kitten," Willow affirmed, trailing a finger down the back of her witch's neck. "More hard work." She wondered if Kitten would ask.

Tara only looked up at the vampire instead, her blue eyes searching. She reached up and brought Willow's face down to gently kiss her.

Realizing that she was experiencing relief that Kitten chose not to be curious, Willow tried to dismiss the feeling as their lips parted. She flipped open the food containers, hoping to distract her witch.

"Mum will walk you to and from your classes tonight. I've even made her a schedule!" Willow showed Kitten a small paper upon which she'd mapped out Kitten's classes in different colored pens.

"No trouble," Willow assured firmly. "And don't try to dissuade Mum. It will keep her out of all sorts of mischief, especially with a new Slayer in town."

Kitten accepted that, and began to eat. Willow plopped back against her sire's slumbering form.

Harmony stood silently beneath the sewer access of Crawford St. She'd been down there for half an hour already. Willow had indicated seven thirty, but Harm would be damned if anything made her even a second late. She and Will were no longer in the tight assed Order, but there were still rules one followed in a vampire's house. So Harmony waited patiently and glanced at Barry's watch again.

Will might have been the nerd Harm relentlessly tormented when they were both alive, but the vampire Will un-living now was definitely not to be fucked with. Harm didn't know what happened to Willow since her Turning, but the redhead's power signature gave her major wiggins. She was certain in the sewers last night that she and her little family were dust. Her short time in Aurelius serving under Luke had taught her enough of the viciousness of the vampire life. What was funny was that Harm in life was probably the most vicious, selfish bit of femalehood to inflict itself on Sunnydale. In the Order though, with Xander's disgusted abandonment, and then Luke...Harm didn't get it, but even the demon in her wanted out.

Harm was powerful, thanks to Xander's blood. She could make her own little house, fuck to the Order and their backwards, backassed ways. So once the Slayer took out the Master, Harm fled and followed her unnatural calling. She had four surviving boys, and she was pretty proud of them. God, she hoped Willow would be good to her and hers.

Willow took a pensive drag on her Turkish cigarette and then a sip of blood. She had barely filled the glass half way. She didn't need it, really, it was for looks. She could still survive the week on Kitten's blood, and Harm's last night was very potent. Mm, Xander. She was sorry he was dust.

Willow exhaled sharply, turning the exiting smoke into a long sigh. She'd rather be with Kitten right now, even if she was away in classes, but a Master's work is never done. Angel was probably all smug with the 'I told you so' face right now.

The door chimed, and Willow gestured, remaining in her armchair as Harmony strolled through the opening door and then came to a stop before her.

"I'm your girl," Harm replied. Willow was totally floored by the new, abrupt Harm. She was usually the bitch that could be depended upon to give her unneeded opinion and never shut up.

Willow nodded, flicking her cigarette into the ashtray. "I need to get a message across."

Willow smirked slightly. Her eyes narrowed as she raised the cigarette to her lips. "This week you'll be cleaning the town for me. If you've trained your fledges well, you should have no trouble."

Willow then tilted her head back, indicating the hallway behind her. "Four doors down, to the left. Go down and make yourself ready."

Willow finished her cigarette and then the glass of blood. She gave the blonde vampire ten minutes. Then she rose and headed for the cellar.

"Hm mm, hm mm mmm mmm," Dru hummed as she sashayed to the fine jazz melody wafting from the open hall doors behind her. 'Jazz concert tonight!', the posted paper had said. Cubby was in the building across the grass. The booky life was rather fun. Her Spike went to one of these places when he was a warm thing. She always knew her Spike was smarter than Daddy, but shh, shh. Daddy was Daddy because he was bigger. Like a Clydesdale.

Dru felt a slight prick of the senses. Not the smelly thing. More like a fledgy. She swept around the building and then paused, coiled and ready. There was the baby bird, waiting in the shadows for a warm meal to leave the music. The elder vampire approached silently.

"RRRrrrr," she growled, making the fledge jump. "Know you, the Master's warning?"

"Hada, ah," the fledge fumbled, easily making no sense. He looked around rapidly, and saw no humans about. "I-I've not seen a Pet, honest! I'd know one when I see one! M-maybe you can point out, him, or or her – "

Dru nearly followed. Since Precious said no more draining of the warm things, Dru had felt at a lost at what to kill to pass her time. Little birdies would do. But then she remembered.

Dru looked at the piece of paper Precious had pinned to her dress. The hall suddenly discharged people into the night air, signaling a break in the performance.

Two of her Wicca group members stood before her, smiling. Cait and Denise were really nice. They had figured out that Tara knew how to do stuff that kept the weird campus muggers away. Especially the scary muggers who wore those frightening masks.

Cait and Denise clutched their book bags and stared at Tara and her strange friend, wide mouthed.

"Oh, Dru, I'm glad," Tara gasped, as the quick dance ended. She looked at her bewildered friends. "Cait, Denise, this is D-Drusilla. Dru, this is Cait and Denise – some of my Wicca friends."

"Blessings Be," Cait said, as they began walking together. She wasn't sure what to make of the Gothy lady. "Have you been to school here long?"

"Oh, Dru d-doesn't go to school here," Tara answered for the elder vampire, who, ignoring the others, gazed dreamily up at the stars. "She's, um, my g-girlfriend's mom."

"Wow, and you didn't tell us?" Cait added, also enthused. She and Denise had alot of admiration for the older girl. To them, Tara was so Wicca knowledge woman and everything. "Is she like, ten years old or something, because Drusilla doesn't look that old!" Cait laughed. She couldn't resist that one.

"Oh, stop," Tara admonished, and blushed bright red. The fact that Willow looked so young did embarrass her. There was only a two year difference, physically, but still. High school robbing.

A man suddenly moved menacingly out of the bushes, effectively interrupting the teasing. Tara raised a hand to prepare a spell. The man took one look at the slave bracelet on her wrist and turned tail. Cait and Denise let out frightened breaths they didn't know they were holding.

"What, what was that all about?" Cait said fearfully, watching the man run away.

"I don't know," Tara said with a frown. "C'mon, Dru and I will walk you to your rooms." She looked at Dru, and the elder vampire merely shrugged and went back to humming to the stars.

Willow walked into her bedroom. She entered the bath suite and realized she still held the short whip, wrapped neatly in her hand. She put it down. She peeled off her black, leather gloves. They needed cleaning. She looked down at her white, long sleeved shirt.

She liked wearing white shirts for these sort of things, she wasn't sure why. The contrast of it, she supposed. Harm's blood decorated the front. She took it off. She found the solution she'd concocted for cleaning bloodstains and applied it to the shirt. She then went to her closet and found an identical, pressed shirt, and put it on. She buttoned the cuffs.

Harm would probably regain consciousness soon, she had good stamina. Willow made sure the shirt was well tucked in and all the buttons neatly fastened. She ran a hand through her hair. She left her bedroom.

Angel pulled his head almost guiltily out of the fridge upon sensing Willow's presence enter the first floor level, but his grandchilde did not come to the kitchen. Instead, she moved back to the cellar again. When Angel had entered the mansion earlier, he didn't need vampiric hearing to recognize a young woman's screams from beneath the house. Outrage brought his demon face to the fore, thinking that his grandchilde had tricked him – all of them – and was now torturing Tara. Before he could break through the reinforced cellar door however, he realized he didn't hear a heart beat.

When he paused a moment, listening harder, he had to admit – after a few more tormented screams – that he doubted Tara would screech like such a harpy.

Whatever vamp the little one had in her cellar, it obviously had to do with the attack on her Pet. Angel decided to let be, and then had the bright idea to maybe find some of that good blood his grandchilde kept around. He found the right bottle and poured himself a glass.

Why was he still here? his souled self had to ask. A good question, as he had not intended to come to the mansion for anything unless it was to talk business with his grandchilde. But Willow was unavailable and here he still was, helping himself to human blood – something he had denied himself for decades. As the microwave dinged, Angel decided to put away such well meaning intentions as guiltily dumping what he had portioned out for himself and just drink the damn stuff.

Kendra had made it clear that she didn't want him helping with patrol tonight, preferring to take Larry and Oz instead. She was trained as a loner fighter, Angel recognized, so taking the boys with her was quite a concession for the very conservative woman. However, he knew his being a vampire – and possibly the most notoriously evil in Watcher history – helped in quickly pushing him out of the White Hats current circle. Giles warily trusted him, and Larry and Oz never expressed either support or rejection of his presence. It was Buffy who had readily accepted him and his help. Granted, that trust was gained by his trying his best to act as a human man, and their both inadvertently falling in love, but he felt that Buffy accepted him as a vampire too. And he had needed her; needed that golden warrior girl to keep his condemned self on this road of redemption, to inspire him and give him cause.

But now his beloved Slayer lay broken in the hospital, and a new girl was in town.

Angel sat in his armchair and drank his blood. He should not be here. He was no more prepared to re-enter this Family than deciding to once again be a Sire to Dru. He should be with Buffy. He shouldn't be here.

After a long while had passed, Angel was roused from dark contemplations by the sound of the cellar door opening, then closing. Light footsteps entered the living area.

"Granddad, how nice to see you," he heard Willow say in a clipped voice. "Sorry I can't stay and chat. Good night." He glanced back to his grandchilde's retreating form as she took to the stairs. He sensed her wound up, tense state.

The cold water came in torrents, drenching her face and body, but since she was a vampire, it was not like the frigid shower took away all the sensitivity of her skin or dampened her heightened, hormonal excitement. That's what she gets when she spends the night initiating pain with someone and then giving pleasure. Harmony was quite a filly in chains, but it was all business; the usual, master/sub vampire type relations. The way Harm responded to the second part of her treatment however, made Willow certain she now had a loyal lieutenant in the making. What would seal Harm's devotion would be what Willow will demonstrate on and for the blonde vampire's beloved boys tomorrow.

Willow turned around, letting the unmerciful cold pound her back. God, she wished Kitten were here, she wanted, oh she wanted –

Willow gasped, entering herself with her fingers. She began to move them rapidly. She can see Kitten, heavy lidded and aroused eyed, her mouth, moist, so well kissed, her flushed, hot body, legs spread – like that – and, the way her breasts moved, and, her beautiful, wet, wet sex so hot and – writhing, yes, responding and now – yes, that's it, Coming –

Willow arched hard into her rapidly working hand. Her other slammed into the tile before her. She nearly did the same with her head. She twisted, facing the pounding cold water again. She finally collapsed awkwardly to the tub bottom, shower water entering her mouth.

She was panting. Panting on...reflex. Thoughts of Kitten had made her do that. Willow felt the foreign sensation of her dead chest move of its own volition. She coughed up some of the water that had entered her lungs. She finally removed her hand from between her legs.

An hour later, lying spread eagled and wide awake on top of her bed, Willow still wanted Kitten.

It was too early for bed, but she was still aroused and didn't feel calm enough to talk to her grandsire. Who she sensed was no longer in the house anyway. At least he better not be. Willow looked at the clock once more. Still enough hours before dawn, but this time was Kitten's sleep time. If she went to her witch's dorm room right now, Willow would definitely not let her sleep. Willow whimpered at her predicament and then pouted. She indulged in demony thoughts of throwing her 'progressive vampire' image out the window and chaining Kitten to her bed right now.

Such lurid images only made her pout more. They weren't so fun when the images came with Kitten crying in them.

"I wish you were here!" Willow nearly shouted into the phone. She looked around, expectant.

"I-I wish I were there too," Kitten answered, sounding slightly confused. "Are you still, um, working?"

"Nope, that's over for the night. But I have to do it again tomorrow. You don't have any classes on Friday, Kitten, but I really want you here tomorrow night, in my house."

"Okie doke! I wish I were there with you right now, but if I were, I wouldn't let you sleep, Kitten."

"Was there something the matter?" Willow suddenly asked, realizing she didn't know why Kitten called.

"Kitten," she breathed. Oh please please let her want to play this. "Kitten...would you...would you fuck me over the phone?"

"Please?" Willow pleaded, her voice small. She hoped she hadn't offended Kitten by using the 'f' word. Kitten never swore, as far as she knew.

"What are you doing now, Willow." Kitten's voice was a little different. Still feminine, but now...more powerful. Willow wiggled on the bed, thrilled.

"I'm all naked and ready for you," she breathed. "I've been wanting you for hours and hours." She waited, but Kitten said nothing. "Are you naked too, Kitten?" she asked cautiously.

"Oh no," Kitten answered, her tone firm. "My clothes are on, and will stay on. You've obviously put yourself in quite a state. You're going to have to get yourself out of it."

"Yes, Kitten you are," Willow breathed, biting her lip at the exquisite sensation of her nipple hardening.

"Maybe I should pinch harder, give you something to think about. Maybe I should rake my nails from your chest right down to your stomach. How does that feel?"

"Ah, Kitten – you're so bad!" Willow ground out, her nails digging deeper than Kitten's would, leaving welts.

"I should spread your legs now, I want to see it all. How wet are you? Are you drenched? Are you ready?"

"Oh, mmph – " Willow chose an inappropriate moment to whimper in her throat, Kitten's words just making her want to bend over right that minute and take it.

"Maybe you're not so ready. Maybe I have to play with you a bit more. Stroke your clit. trace your lips. No, you're not ready. I'm not entering you yet. Is your clit responding to my touch? Is it?"

"Oh – oh, Kit – " Willow forced herself to touch herself. Only the clit. Only the clit.

"Are you ready now? Can I see it? Are you really wet for me? Are you spread wide for me to see?"

"I am I am I am," Willow babbled, her knees practically to her shoulders. God was she spread wide for Kitten!

"Then I should..." Willow held her non-existent breath, her eyes wide as she waited, hanging. "FUCK you now."

Willow nearly screamed, hearing her Kitten's beautiful voice use the 'fuck' word.

" – make your little breasts jiggle. Watch your hands clutch the bedspread. Make you moan over and over while I take you. Can you feel me? Feel me want you? Feel how hard I want you? Do you need more of me? Do you need it harder – faster? How much harder can I give it to you, Willow, you're shaking for me. I want you to come now. I want you to come now for me, Willow. While I'm pounding your sweet body into the – "

Willow screamed, Kitten's name barely recognizable from her lips. She convulsed around her hand, jerked once more as she came again, then finally collapsed, a well spent, thoroughly fucked little Willow heap. The phone had slipped from her other hand, but Willow found the strength to lift it to her ear again.

"Kitten," she said drowsily. She was absolutely...god, what Kitten could do to her. "You're my...beautiful Kitten. Thank you."

As soon as she heard Willow click off, Tara turned off her cell. She dropped her head, a slender hand pushed through her thick, loose hair. She was sitting on the floor, back to her bed, forearms resting on her bent knees. She passed her hand through her hair again, and realized she was sweating.

Tara felt like quite a picture, and she indeed, looked like one. Her face was flushed, her blue eyes were glazed, and her sensual mouth was parted to accommodate the ragged breaths she took. She was considering her options: another shower, meditation, or just plain jacking off.

None were what she wanted. Thanks to a certain horny vampire, all she wanted now was Willow.

"Karma – see, people think I don't know that word, but hey, just because I'm blonde doesn't mean I can't pick up mental-physical crap. Karma," and here Harmony paused, taking a sharp bite out of the chocolate bar she found. "Is me being butt slave to the biggest geek to walk the earth. But now that we're both demons, it actually works. Kay say-rah say-rah, y'know?"

As she finished off the bar, the trussed up and gagged cab driver began to fidget, frightened eyed, in his chair. Whenever the crazy blonde stopped talking, that was when he got hurt – really bad.

"I mean, for once, could Harm be queen? First there was Cordy, and now Will. But even when Cordy was knocked on her ass and I took over, I wasn't happy. No, being Biggest Bitch wasn't going to make me happy. I came to realize, that maybe all I wanted was something really simple. A five bedroom with the two jeeps in the garage and my well fed boys and I'm good." With that announcement, Harmony began thumbing through the cash she found. Barry was going to need some new clothes. The dummy slipped in some demon slime the other night.

"I know you've got more," she said, slapping the cabbie's face back and forth with the cash. "Do you need me to break your other fingers?"

The cab driver jerked his head franticly towards the bed. Harm frowned. She'd already torn up the whole apartment and the bed was thoroughly thrashed. Putting a few brain cells to use, she pulled the bed frame back. Bingo, loose floorboard. She smashed it and pulled out a money tin.

"What's funny," she began, as she paused in industriously stuffing the new cash into a bag. A pensive frown was on her face, which was hard for Harm to do, because she was rarely pensive, so her face kind of hurt. "Is I never cared for anyone or anything as much as myself. Harm first, that was me. Then I become this thing, and next thing I know I'm making babies, and what's worse is I care about my babies. I can make hundreds of them, I shouldn't care if someone stakes them, but I do. I shouldn't care that Will did more for me after a disciplining like no Master'd ever done for me, but I do. I mean, I can not even sit right now, that's how fucked up I am, and you should see the rest of me."

"I mean, I should care about that, getting fucked over, but I don't. And yeah, demon here, we get off on that, but she didn't have to – "

"See that? A. Bandage. She didn't have to do that. It'll heal in another hour. She touched me all over, with her bare hands. Every hurt she made, she touched. She even – "

Harm shakily shut up, straightening. Even now, as a demon, Harmony could not admit out loud to something she didn't even let guys do to her, in life and now in unlife.

"No one's ever done for me. That's why I shouldn't care. Harmony first, and everyone else can drop and die. But then I had to go and have kids. This. This, y'know?"

"This is how I know she'll take care of them. Or else me, and this money, and my family would have been on the train out of Sunnyhell, like that! Tonight."

"She didn't want me to kill you, did you know that?" Harmony then said, finally returning her attention to the cab driver and the task at hand. "I think that's really weird, since you were the one who abandoned her girl to get killed. You're a real jerk, you know that?" She began to work the gag off. "Don't scream, or I'll bite your tongue off," she said sharply. The cab driver just breathed hard, making funny, scared sounds. "If it had been my Pet, I'd be peeling your dick now and feeding it to you like a banana. Maybe I should still do that. It's not like you'll die if I did. But instead, I'm supposed to give you this."

Harm forced the man's mouth to open wide, and then blew something into it. The cab driver coughed, then rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

"Happy nightmares," Harm bade, putting the gag back on and slapping the man's head. Already the cabbie appeared deep asleep, his eyelids fluttering. Harm exited out the apartment window, feeling dawn's approach.

"Well I've had the perfect night," Harm announced to the growing dawn as she ran – stiffly – for a manhole cover. "Got a new master, passed the 'get fucked' test, did a job, made money for the kids. I should be on the cover of Lady's Home 'Fuck Me' Journal."

As she pulled the cover in place, Harmony's muffled and vexed voice underground could be heard, sharply asking, "Now that I'm dead, can I still get my picture taken?"

'It has been nine days since the destruction of the Master and his Order of Aurelius. His rule over Sunnydale had been a long reign, and though his death has freed the inhabitants and given them relative safety once again, there now is the sense of a power vacuum within the demon underworld. Although I find Angel's suggestion a practical option, that of having someone who is willing to work with the Slayer fill that vacuum, I cannot help my reservation, at this point, in placing trust in the candidate: Willow.'

Giles sighed. When he wrote in his Watcher's journal, he did so with the full awareness that whatever words he put down were for the aid of those watchers who would come after him. The present circumstances of a souled vampire, two Slayers, and now a unique vampire entity with human-like concerns were complex developments to relate with any conciseness and clarity, at best.

He really should focus his entry on his Slayers, but Willow was a potential enemy, or possible ally, who would no doubt become an important figure in the Slayers' lives, especially given the vampire's human history with Buffy. It would be best to give expression to his thoughts about the young vampire as early as possible.

Tara smiled at Dru as she drove Willow's Impala down Sunnydale's Main Street. The moment dusk had arrived, she and Dru left the campus to complete some of the young woman's errands before going to the mansion. She had taken the top down, and now Dru was slowly waving her arms and hands about in the air, following the contours of breezes.

"The stars wait in line," the elder vampire softly sang. "More shall blow in the wind. Seven days of sad songs for baby things."

"After," Tara hesitantly ventured, as she stared at the road ahead. "After the s-seven days...will the sad songs end?"

Tara nodded, not really understanding. Where Dru's words were concerned, Tara did not try to decipher the literal meaning, as Willow liked to do. The blonde witch just relied on how the words felt. The elder vampire's strange reassurance was enough for Tara not to feel worried.

She found a rare, empty curb spot, smoothly parallel parked the car, and then disembarked with Dru. People were already freely walking along the street, ready for a night out. With the bright street lights and relaxed pedestrians, Sunnydale's downtown looked very different from what it was a year ago. Tara very much liked it. It was a beautiful sight.

"And they don't thank Cubby," she heard Dru scoff under her breath, as the vampire made her slow, dreamy way down the sidewalk. Tara just raised her eyebrows in curiosity. Even when Dru's words were not cryptic, they had their own secret context.

Dru merely smiled at her and slipped her slim arm into Tara's. The blonde witch took that as some kind of affirmation, and led them both to the cheery window front of the Magic Box.

"Hello, potential customer, how may I help you spend your money today?" came the upbeat voice of Anya Emerson, youthful yet capable store manager of the Magic Box. The dark blonde at the cash register brought her well practiced, 'customer welcome!' smile down a notch at the sight of Tara at the door.

"Oh, it's just you," the former vengeance demon sighed. "This has been a very slow Thursday."

"Hello Anya," Tara smiled, reaching for the ex-demon to give her a hug. Tara had learned to not to take the other girl's frank and abrupt manner seriously. Anya had only been human for over a year, since losing her demon powers, and had been a demon for 1100 years before that. She still had lots to get used to – like the practice of hugging, which Anya awkwardly, but enthusiastically returned.

"Wha," Tara said, not sure why Anya was now looking bright eyed and intent at her.

"You must have a lenient master to be able to walk about freely. Do they discipline you alot? I'm sorry to see you've been hurt. I really hope they don't hurt you alot." Tara suddenly realized that Anya could see the fading bruise on her cheek, despite the make up.

"N-n-n – " Tara shut her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Anya had completely startled her with her astute, yet, as usual, frank observations. "N-no Anya, m-m-my – " Tara took another breath. She really couldn't quite say the word 'master', yet. "Willow doesn't hit me. I just ran into s-some trouble the other night."

When the former demon didn't speak further, but instead, stepped back and folded her arms pensively, Tara got worried. Anya always expressed her thoughts with her mouth. If Anya had to refrain from saying what was on her mind, it had to be bad.

Tara looked nervously to where Dru was investigating the jarred contents of Anya's herbs and preserved whatsis stock. The elder vampire seemed oblivious to their conversation.

"Um, 'oh my' as in, 'oh boy!', or, 'oh my' as in... 'oh dear'," Tara asked weakly.

"'Oh my' as in 'oh my'," Anya clarified decisively, then frowned. "I must have learned it from a movie, because what does it mean?"

"Well," Tara began, and then stopped herself. "Can we go back to why you said – "

Anya smiled at Tara briefly. The blonde witch was so nice to her, unlike the White Hats, who never seemed to listen to her when she was trying to tell them about demons any other important tidbits she had picked up in her 1100 years. The Slayer's gang especially had no patience for her awkward mannerisms, lack of tact, and the biggie, lack of pop culture knowledge. For one thing, what was the significance of a 'white hat'? At least the Slayer's people bought supplies regularly from the Magic Box, but she suspected Amy had shoplifted once. When a look of worry appeared on Tara's face, Anya realized she was internally rambling again.

"Vampires tend to be pretty cruel to their Pets," Anya supplied. "It's in their nature. Evil, you know. On average, their human pets really only last a month, at most. If the Pet is highly valued, he or she's more like a Concubine. Those kinds don't get openly mistreated. I've seen one valued Concubine last almost three years, and then her Master Turned her. I've also heard of vampires who've kept their human favorites for longer, but I've never met them. Those vampires usually kept such relationships outside vampire society. I don't think vampires as a whole tolerate mixed breed relationships."

"I guess I was expecting you'd been made the Pet of a Krikort demon, or even a Belii," Anya continued, not noticing that Tara had begun looking distracted and was probably not listening. "Belii are very kind to their human Pets and will even set them free. Minus their liver. I should have realized you had been claimed by a vampire, especially in this town."

Tara said nothing, she was...overwhelmed. Anya was not, or had ever been a vampire of course, but she knew what she was talking about. Tara found herself looking about the store anxiously, seeking out Dru.

The elder vampire had found one of the Box's stuffed chairs next to the book shelves and was lazily seated. She was watching Tara with interested, dark eyes. Dru held a hand out, and though the part of Tara that was slightly sickened by Anya's explanations didn't want to take the offered hand, the part of her that needed comfort, did. Tara moved dazedly towards Dru and accepted.

To Tara's surprise, Dru took that opportunity to gently pull the witch into her lap. Anya didn't blink at the situation, and Tara decided not to be embarrassed. She attempted to relax, feeling Dru caress her hair. Well, she was a Pet after all, wasn't she? A vampire's Pet.

"You make a beautiful Pet, Tara," she heard Anya say with characteristic, blunt sincerity. "You're obviously highly valued. And Willow is quite a powerful witch as well."

Anya nodded sagely to herself. Even though she was human now, she had sensed, when meeting vampire Willow recently, that the Slayer's onetime friend was now impressive on the magic scale. "That means she can keep you safe, and I'm glad because you are my best friend and I would like you to be safe."

Anya turned the conversation to eager gossip about Willow – wanting to know what the vampire was like and what she was up to, although Tara had no answers for the latter. Tara found it strange that Anya and Dru seemed to mutually ignore each other, which the blonde witch decided must be some sort of demon...etiquette thing. Tara thought it impolite to talk about Willow while sitting on her sire's lap, but Dru didn't seem to pay any heed to the conversation. Instead, she contented herself with braiding tiny long braids in Tara's hair.

As she accommodated Anya's curiosity about Willow, Tara's mind drifted. She didn't know why she still felt personally upset. She very well knew she was chattel. She knew vampires were cruel, she had expected it for the first three nights she had spent as a captive. She guessed that one reason she felt upset was possibly not because of her situation, but because Willow had not exactly been the kind of creature Anya had generally described...at least Willow had not been so to Tara herself.

If there was a handbook on the nature of vampires, it was obvious that Willow – her Willow – forgot to read it. Or perhaps scoffed and threw out the window, because Tara could not imagine Willow neglecting to read anything in the form of a book.

However, if there was something Willow did resemble of the nature of vampires it was probably....

'Why would they keep a human for that long?', came her question, naggedly, to Tara's mind once again.

Not once during their conversation did either Tara or Anya mention love, although Tara had been tempted. She was human, after all.

God, Mama, why am I even thinking of love? Tara thought piteously to the spirit of her mother.

The young witch was certain her mama's response was just a simple shrug. Yep, had to be a difficult Maclay woman.

"Oh, Anya, I'm sorry," the blonde witch exclaimed, realizing she had become too caught up in her own thoughts.

"It's all right. You're probably hungry. Can we have dinner together? I can close the shop early."

Tara smiled. "That sounds good." Willow had wanted her back at the mansion, but not first thing that evening. The red haired vampire was going to be busy most of the night, she had said.

Reminded of Willow, Tara faded back into her current thoughts once again as Anya went to the counter to retrieve her purse. The blonde witch felt Dru's lazy hands caress her arms, comforting.

"We love," she heard the elder vampire say. Surprised, Tara gazed down into Dru's dark, dreaming eyes.

"You do?" Tara whispered, looking for something in the deep depths to hold on to.

Dinner was at a popular, small bristo, and though it was crowded, Anya knew the shift manager and could get the threesome a nice outdoor table. Tara was concerned that Dru would have nothing to do while the two young ladies ate, but the elder vampire solved that social dilemma.

"Choc'late cake," Dru merely stated, and ordered a sinfully large slice. Once she finished the dessert, however, she rose from the table and wandered across the street to a loud, energetic bar. Obviously Dru needed to get something to 'drink' after her indulgence. Tara returned her attention to her pasta. Belatedly, she noticed that Anya had ordered a white wine.

"Happy Birthday," she teased. Anya was technically only seventeen, and becoming human again at sixteen had greatly inconvenienced the centuries experienced ex-demon, to put it mildly. No money, no home, and then having to finish high school just to get her diploma, of all things. Anya's former demon boss, D'Hoffryn, helped his one-time favorite employee with setting up her new life and identity. Anya then took it from there, studying for high school equivalents and working full time. Tara had to admire how nice Anya always managed to look despite living in the back of the Magic Box, which hadn't the best facilities for a pretty girl to get prepared in.

"Yes, I finally got a fake i.d. that works," Anya enthused, showing Tara the finely crafted forgery. "Now I can try dating college age men. High school aged men are not husband worthy."

Tara just smiled. Whatever type person Anya was when she was Anyanka, the human who existed one thousand years ago before becoming a demon, it still reflected in the girl now, in her almost archaic sensibilities.

"I wish I were a lesbian. Then I could date you. I trust you and I think you're very reliable, capable, and strong too. Thanks again for fixing my door."

"Sure," Tara said, wideeyed, feeling like the prized cow at the fair. Or maybe more like the horse.

"And I'm sure you can easily give me orgasms. To be able to please a vampire takes lots of prowess. You must be a really talented lover," Anya continued with some envy.

"But if we were girlfriends I would experience all the bad emotions when Willow takes you away," Anya continued, her imagination taking over. "Like, sadness, and anger, and fear – lots of fear. Because I wouldn't have enough money to buy you back, and there wouldn't be enough time for me to find another lesbian witch to trade for you, and Willow would probably just laugh at me and curse me with the nightmare of a thousand bunnies, or even turn me into a bunny as well!"

Thoroughly upset now, Anya's hands fluttered helplessly on the table and Tara took hold of both of them, hoping to placate the now overwrought girl. When Anya chose to bring up her bunny phobia, she was definitely upset.

"And with Buffy all broken in the hospital, there would be no one to help me stake her!" Anya nearly wailed.

"But I'm here now," Tara tried to soothe. "And if we had been together," she added gently. "I would want, beyond anything, to come back to you. I would never let her take me."

The meal went more or less smoothly after Anya had calmed down. Anya had a way of overreacting to situations, but Tara felt it was because the former demon didn't know yet how to handle her emotions. Her working through the scenario of possibly being girlfriends, for instance. Tara felt it had some basis in a real, unspoken fear Anya had for her. The former demon was so genuine. She saw things without the cloud of social propriety, and this made Tara value the other girl's opinions, blunt or unpleasant as they may be.

Butch much, Tara? she sighed to herself wryly, thinking about Anya's last statement. Despite giving Anya her playful reassurance, she really had no doubt that Willow could easily kill her if Tara so much as said, 'Um'. Anya knew what Tara was currently not allowing herself to acknowledge; that she was in a rather no-win situation. But then, she did have Willow didn't she – like she, against all common sense, wanted to have. Tara had the vampire as much as the vampire had her.

"I guess this cuts into my Tara-time, doesn't it," Anya sighed, as she let her friend into the back room of the Magic Box, her current living quarters. Tara worked at the store on weekends and free evenings, but with her new vocation as Vampire Pet, they had to work out switching the blonde witch to weekend daytime hours. Anya privately wondered how long that would last with Willow. She plopped down on her futon and sighed again.

"I'm going to miss going to movies with you. And video nights were fun. I liked it when you helped make dinner at the Summers house that one time. It makes me want to learn how to cook too."

"Well, if you brought Willow, that would be interesting. I'd rather you didn't, because I'm human now and made of soft squishy parts that pummel easily. And I doubt Joyce-mom would invite Willow into her house, even though Willow was her daughter's best friend when she was alive." Anya nodded knowingly. "Joyce-mom doesn't even like Angel, and he has a soul."

Tara frowned slightly, wondering if her growing friendship with Buffy and her mother would be objectionable to Willow. It hadn't been, so far.

"Anya, we're still going to have fun together," Tara said firmly. "And if Willow wants to come along, she can stay out on the porch."

Tara just gave her friend her patented half grin, quirking it mischievously, and Anya had to laugh.

When Tara finally bade Anya good night and left through the Box's front door, locking it, she was surprised to turn around and see Kendra.

"Oh! Hey," Tara exclaimed. The Slayer, who had apparently been walking by, stiffened like a deer in headlights. No no, Tara corrected. Make that more like a panther in headlights.

"Hey," the young woman said warily, raising her chin in greeting. As the Slayer continued walking, Tara realized they were heading in the same direction. God, how awkward.

"Um, s-so how's the slaying?" Tara ventured. Kendra had a generally dangerous, 'keep your distance' vibe about her. Tara wouldn't describe the new Slayer's demeanor as 'stoic', just kind of unsmiley.

Kendra narrowed her dark eyes without looking at the witch. "Maybe," she allowed. Then she stopped, stake suddenly in hand.

"Uh, spidey sense?" Tara asked. That was what Buffy called her Slayer vamp radar when it went off. Then she thought of Dru, who might still be in the area. Tara stiffened.

As both women tensed, a man in full demonic face emerged from an alley way, sniffing the air. Apparently his vampiric sense of the Slayer made him curious rather than cautious. One look at the armed, poised woman and the vampire snarled, ready to attack. Then he saw Tara, with her arm raised, and backed up suddenly.

"Oh shit!" he lisped through his fangs, and turned around to run. Kendra leapt forward and with one broad thrust, staked him in the back.

Even as she spun about in the vampire's dust, Kendra was already glaring accusingly at Tara.

"I, nothing," Tara said defensively. Kendra seemed mad, and she wasn't sure why. And she certainly didn't know what made the vampire want to run. Perplexed, she lowered the hand that had on the bracelet.

Kendra sighed in exasperation, for whatever mysterious reason. "You obviously can take care of yourself," she stated, shaking her head, which perplexed Tara even more. Then the Slayer turned and walked away into the alley.

"Um...okay," Tara acknowledged, realizing that the Slayer was leaving her alone. "Good night." She tried not to feel hurt. Buffy would have at least offered to walk her to her car. She walked the next two blocks without incident and found Dru already in the front seat of the Impala, head back and staring up into the stars.

"Noice noight," Dru murmured dreamily, her English accent rolling as thickly as Kendra's Jamaican one.

The mansion was silent, but with a pregnant sort of air. As she ascended the steps to the second floor – Dru already sailing ahead of her – Tara began to understand why. She heard the sudden, muffled scream of a male voice somewhere beneath the house. It froze her, riveting her to the steps. A second one rose up, not sounding at all like the first one. Another man. Tara looked wide eyed up at Dru, who was watching her from the top of the steps.

Tara nodded. O-okay then. By the time she had reached her room and set down her overnight bag and books, there were two more screams. The sounds really were faint – she had to work to hear them. But now that Tara knew they existed, she couldn't help but anticipate them.

The one place Willow hadn't shown Tara of the house was the cellar. She had told the witch never to go down there.

"It's fixed up rather kinky, Kitten," Willow had said. "Not a place for soft things like you."

No doubt. If Willow were not Willow, perhaps it would be Tara down there. She hugged herself, trembling slightly. God not funny.

She felt a cool hand touch her arm. She turned, thinking it was Willow. It was Dru.

"Fancy having tea?" Dru asked, beckoning with a dark charm. "I must introduce you to my Miss Edith."

"I'd like that," Tara answered softly. She took a deep breath, then followed the elder vampire to her room.

Harm watched Willow work. She didn't have to help with the restraints or the torture, Will took care of it with magic. So Harm watched. And when she felt it necessary, she looked away to industriously stoke the fire, heating Will's branding irons.

The bloodcurdling scream that rose made Tara jump and nearly drop her saucer and tea cup. Trembling, she set her cup down, as another agonized scream rose, then another. At the fourth one, she had to cover her mouth, hot tears springing to her eyes.

"Please," Tara said, unable to keep the quaver out of her voice. She wiped at her eyes. There had been no sounds since sitting down to tea with Dru, her dolls, and one rabbit, so Tara had begun to relax. Those last screams had been horrifying, however. She was upset to hear such suffering, even though Dru had informed her: just minions.

"Best not," Dru said solemnly, eyes widely watching the unseen. "Else your honey be made bitter, no more our golden cub." Dru offered Tara the honey pot.

Harm really, really, had to admire Willow's technique. Nothing was so frightening, yet so fucking hot, as the way she spoke so softly, the way she alternated gentleness with searing pain, the way she looked with ice green eyes like she could kill you in the cruelest way possible and yet still give your unlife nirvana. Willow was one scary M.F., but she knew how to make a vamp want to die, wanting her.

Harm watched Willow slowly circle, and really felt proud of her kids. It had been hours down here in the cellar, but her boys were still rock hard and hadn't passed out yet. Harm had to admit, she'd been soft on them, having never given them the full Aurelius treatment. Now Will was teaching them, but good. She watched Willow gesture with a hand, releasing Shawn from his manacles and forcing him to bend over, knees and hands to the floor. Then Willow placed Ken over Shawn, Barry over Ken, and finally Troy over Barry. Wow, Harm thought critically, cocking her head. Will was actually making it all work, even with the chains.

When Will made a small gesture to Harm, indicating Troy, she straightened, retrieving the strap on. Sure thing, Boss.

Something changed. Tara didn't know for sure, but she instinctively felt that she would no longer feel pain in the air. Her relief was palpable. Dru stood up and began to dance, Mr. Peter in her arms. She then picked up a small book and gave it to Tara. The young witch read the cover and had to stifle a laugh with her hand. When she opened to the first page and saw the morbidly pressed fairy, she burst out laughing.

"Oi've been naughty," Dru said in a wickedly coquettish manner, and peered over Mr. Peter's white ears.

Harm came hard against her jeans. All four of them ramming Shawn into the floor kinda did that to a vamp. Will met her eyes over their pale backs, smirking slightly. It looked like Will was going to let Harm watch what will happen next. Cool. She wiggled out of the harness, leaving the toy inside Troy and giving his ass a smack for good measure. She went to stand where she could watch Will. All her boys were spent now, except for Shawn.

Shawn was her little warrior. Amateur wrestler, heavy weight state champion. He never tired, he never quit. He was a perfect Atlas. Or was that Adonis. Whatever. Willow noticed his potential early; she had to work him harder to make him scream. That's how Masters show favoritism.

Now he was in that submission position he knew really well. He was shaking with the weight of all the others on top of him.

Willow gently removed the ball gag from Shawn's mouth. She pulled his head back by the hair. Shawn knew better than to let his head drop. He kept it there, his demon visage grimacing. Willow removed one of her black gloves and stared serenely into Shawn's yellow eyes. Then she placed her bare fingers on his lips.

Shawn parted his fangs. Willow flicked a finger on one of them, then raised the cut digit above Shawn's reaching tongue. If Harm had any breath she would not be breathing it. Shit, what a gift –

Once the crimson drop touched Shawn's tongue, the very taste sent him right over. He roared, making the air tremble. He shot cum hard all over Willow's boots.

Willow merely stood, calm and still. Shawn was a quivering mess of muscle, but hey, Harm's little warrior. Without any prompting, Shawn began licking Willow's shoes clean.

The house was so much calmer now. A peace had settled. It didn't feel like death, although Tara's unique senses had never been affected by a vampire's passing. She guessed that was because they were already dead, therefore, she wouldn't know if anyone – thing – had survived, down there. In the cellar. Tara pushed the thought out of her mind. She went back to doing the little sketches inspired by Dru's hilariously macabre stories when she narrated her pressed faerie book to Tara. She smiled faintly to herself.

Billie Holiday's lazy, raspy tones wafted from Dru's room. The elder vampire had settled into a dreamy, trancelike state after one of her stories, obviously becoming lost to the inner voices of her mind. Tara had quietly cleaned up the tea service and left the vampire to her private, silent conversations when Dru eventually went to lie on her bed and stare up into her ceiling. The young witch was just grateful that the elder vampire had managed to stay focused while spending the long evening with her. She hoped she hadn't taxed Dru too much.

Smiling softly, Tara drew a Mr. Peter and Miss Edith. So absorbed was she in her work, she didn't hear the open and close of a heavy door far below.

Willow moved silently up the stairs to the second floor, her sire's presence apparent and her Kitten's heartbeat reassuringly beating its steady, strong rhythm. She waved for the door of her room to open and headed straight for the bath suite and the connecting door to Kitten's room. She stood at the doorway and watched Kitten.

Her witch wore a satin sheath nightgown. Wine colored, it pleasingly set of her pale, soft skin and the honey warmth of her hair. Kitten was absorbed in scribbling carefully upon a pad of paper on her desk table, her head resting in a hand. The cascade of her hair touched the desk, the thick locks flipped over to one side. It revealed the vulnerable column of her smooth neck. Gentleness was in her demeanor; warmth, softness. Even as she finally sensed Willow's presence and turned her blue eyes to her, there was no surprise, much less fear. There was only acceptance, trust. Delight.

"Willow," Kitten said softly, her smile happy. She straightened from the work she had been doing. When Willow did not move, she gazed curiously. Willow decided to speak before she worried Kitten.

"Hullo Kitten," she said, in what she hoped sounded like a normal, unstressy tone. "How was your day?"

"Nice," Kitten answered. "Dru and I spent the evening together. A-are you all right?"

"I guess so," she breathed. The vampire tried again. "I'm pretty wound up, Kitten."

"Y-you do look tense," her witch acknowledged, rising from her chair. Pretty Kitty, Willow thought. Mustn't touch. Yet.

Willow shifted her stance slightly, realizing that Kitten intended to approach her. When her witch stopped instead, staring at Willow's pants leg, the vampire looked down.

Oops. She knew she forgot to let go of something when she had left the cellar. Clutched in her leather gloved hand and resting against her black pants leg was her braided riding crop. She looked up quickly at Kitten.

"I-is that, um," Kitten winced. "F-for me?" There was a tentative smile on her face. She was trying to lighten the situation, and Willow would have laughed if she weren't so stressy.

Willow retreated back into the bathroom. She laid the leather crop down upon the porcelain counter top.

"Kitten, don't come too close," she cautioned, as she felt her witch approach. "I'm really wound up."

"Y-You need release," she heard Kitten say from a spot in her room where she could see Willow through the doorway. "You need a...a big release."

Willow's posture did not relax a millimeter, but inside, she was terribly relieved. Kitten understood.

"I should," she began, as she slowly stripped off her black gloves. "Explain what I've been doing these past two nights, Kitten. I guess without going in depth about boring vampire hierarchy stuff, let's just say that as a Master vampire I have to initiate and discipline others to serve me. It's all very, 'Me, Master, You Serve' kind of thing. And it gets very bloody, and violent, and screamy, and...."

Willow stopped, placing her bare hands on the cool countertop. She was definitely, very wound up.

"Um, no?" Willow said, thinking of the four naked male vampires now unconscious in her cellar. "More like, pervy."

"More like, cumallovermyshoesandlickitalloff kind of pervy," Willow said in a rush. Then she added, "Times four."

"It's all very disgusting and violent and carnal, and now," Willow tentatively reached out for the riding crop. She pushed it slightly towards Kitten. "Now I... I need my turn."

Tara's eyes widened. It was hard to believe, but yet it was true, what Willow was offering – asking. Seeing the nervousness of the vampire, how she wouldn't look at her, Tara realized that Willow wasn't afraid of what she was giving over to her Pet, she was afraid of whether Tara would...

The acute disappointment at Tara's refusal in the vampire's averted, yet expressively large eyes was apparent and expected. Tara felt terrible, and in this twisted scenario, she was feeling terrible for her inability to physically hurt what she lo – what she was very fond of.

"I know. I know," Willow assured hastily. "Especially – especially with what's happened to you. I just..." Willow fretted, her hands nervously twining fingers. "Are you sure?" she finally asked in a small voice, staring at Kitten.

Her witch had such a pained look on her face, as she tried to respond to the vampire's plea.

Willow tried not to look even more crestfallen. She realized she didn't succeed when Kitten asked her next question.

"No Kitten," Willow immediately protested, looking up. "I want you. I want your touch. I want you to touch me, Kitten."

If Tara had time to think, which was hard to do with pleading green eyes gazing into hers so – god, if Tara could only think. But rational thought was not a Maclay woman's forte. Their intuition worked way better than their brains, as her granddad would wryly say. Tara could never figure out if that was really a compliment.

Her Kitten nodded, obviously trying to get used to the idea. Willow was ecstatic, apprehensive, eager, and terribly horny all at once. It almost seemed too good to be true, her gentle Kitty agreeing to this.

Willow jumped in glee, terribly pleased that this was going to happen. Kitten turned away from her, already lost in her own thoughts, but Willow felt the need to say just one thing more.

"I know you've never done this before," she said, and her witch paused. " But anything you do, Kitten, anything will make me happy."

Tara looked down at herself and sighed. Tara, don't think, just do, she admonished herself, not wanting to leave herself any time to get nervous. Obviously what she was currently wearing wasn't going to work, it was too soft. She had noticed that Willow's choice of 'dom' attire was really quite simple – disciplinarian-ish, yet elegant. What the vampire had chosen to wear to impress her 'masterdom' on other vampires was probably attire Willow would respond to herself. Tara had brought nothing like that with her to the mansion tonight. Besides her usual printed skirts and such, she only had a set of clothes meant for a possible day trip to a riding ranch outside of Sunnydale. It was something she had always wanted to do, and with Willow's car, she thought maybe this weekend she could.

Toys and implements clattered onto the white cloth laid over the top of the wheeled tea server. Willow rapidly arranged them as neatly as possible. She placed the server by the night stand and then grabbed the chains from beneath the bed. One incantation, and the links were strung and secured through the sturdy rings bolted to each bed post. Candles, she needed candles. She had to hurry – what if Kitten walked in this minute? Willow undressed in a flurry of discarded clothing. She debated whether she should leave them all over the floor in a fit of overt disobedience, then changed her mind.

Willow had not taken such a completely submissive role in such a long time. She was already feeling a bit contrary. She tried to calm down and fall into her role. It wouldn't do to give Kitten a hard time, first time topping the vampire like this. Willow knelt on the floor and waited. The minutes passed.

She heard the connecting door to Kitten's room open, then close. If Willow had a heartbeat, it would be terribly excited by now. Kitten's heartbeat was strong and calm. Her witch must have done some Wiccy meditation because even before the connecting door to Willow's room opened, the vampire sensed that Kitten had already fallen into her role.

Willow kept her head demurely down and her hands submissively behind her back. The calm footstep that entered her room was heavy; if she hadn't scented that it was really Kitten, she would have almost thought that another person had walked in. The deliberate step came to a stop before her and Willow could finally see what was causing the weighty sound. Cowboy boots.

The vampire couldn't help herself, her pert little mouth made an 'o' at the sight.

And they weren't pretty, shiny, two steppin', conch wearin' kickers, either. They were simple; black, worn and tough, stressed leather testaments to hard work and no nonsense. The dark blue denim pulled over the tops was softly worn down as well, but not frayed. Tuff jeans. She heard that rough material stretch and give as Kitten went into a slow crouch before her. Willow could see a black leather belt at Kitten's waist, the oval metal buckle glinting the imprint of a landscape. Just above the belt was the tucked in fabric of a light blue, heavy cotton work shirt.

The vampire did so, taking a slow route, because she didn't know if she might end up blindfolded or her face in the floor for the rest of this time together. The arms that rested on Kitten's knees had the sleeves rolled up to the forearm. The shirt was neatly tucked in but casually unbuttoned down to the middle, revealing the creamy skin of her chest. Oh oh oh, Kitten wasn't wearing a bra. Willow's eyes reluctantly trailed up from the illicit sight of curvy Kitty breast, expecting the delectable column of a bare throat. Instead, a red bandana prevented that pleasure, the kerchief tied easily around Kitten's throat. Finally, Willow's eyes ended their ascent to Kitten's own, warmly amused blues.

"You're so beautiful," Kitten softly said, cupping Willow's face. She kissed her, slow and sweet. "Thank you for this."

She then gently lowered Willow's head. "Eyes down." And the vampire heard her witch straighten and approach the bed.

As Willow obediently waited, still as a statue, she could hear Kitten examine each bed chain. Examination ended, Kitten knelt behind the vampire this time, placing a hand on her shoulder. The other caressed her hair.

"Do you trust me, Will," Kitten breathed in her ear. It was the first time Kitten had ever shortened Willow's name. The vampire grew excited; she could only nod.

"Don't fight me," her witch softly said, and Willow's eyes grew wide, wondering –

And then suddenly she was flung on her back onto the bed, her body bouncing with the force. Four chains whipped out and secured her wrists and ankles tight. Magic crackled in the air. Willow nearly let her demon face out – that, and her own magicks. It was an instinctive reaction to any magic used against her. Despite herself, she fought against her chains. She felt Kitten's weight position itself above her, radiating heat. A hand was between her spread legs and without preamble, fingers entered her. Willow howled, and despite the taut pull of her restraints she pushed up desperately into the sudden, machine gun thrust of Kitten's hand. Another hand tangled fingers in her hair, pulling her head roughly back. Hot breath sent the vibration of a possessive, snarling growl into the bared flesh of her throat, thrilling the vampire right to the core. Kitten's blunt teeth descended, biting hard.

Willow screamed, orgasming immediately. Kitten's teeth broke flesh and the scent of the vampire's blood filled the air. She shook into Kitten's hand as the thumb firmly pressed her nub. She panted. Her dead lungs continued to work even as Kitten's fingers abruptly pulled out of her. She felt wet fingers at her throat, swiping the wound. Her blood, mingled with her wetness, then hovered before her parted lips. Willow opened her mouth eagerly and sucked Kitten's fingers in, cleansing them of her blood and juices. Finally Kitten removed her fingers from Willow's mouth, rose from the bed, and approached the standing tray.

Oh wowwowwow wow wow, thought Willow as her body continued to shudder from the aftershocks of her orgasm. Talk about Whamo Bammo in less than sixty seconds!!

Still trembling, Willow turned her head to see what Kitten was doing. Her witch was casually calm, as if giving explosive quickies to chained up vampires was an everyday thing for her. She stood at the tray in bemusement and unconsciously raised the fingers she had thoroughly pleasured Willow with. She put the tips in her mouth. Pensively she sucked them. Willow whimpered in the bed.

"Did you say something?" Kitten asked, still studying the tray. Willow's eyes widened, realizing her error, and only shook her head quickly. Kitten was lenient however; for the moment she paid no further attention to the vampire's infraction and seemed to let it slide. She picked up something from the tray. It was an anal plug.

"Did I say you could speak?" Kitten questioned, turning her head with a perturbed frown. The way her witch said it, she could have been reflectively asking what time it was, but the casualness didn't lessen the magnitude of Willow's insubordination – again. Willow snapped her mouth shut. Tight.

With one smooth move, Kitten was astride Willow, dumping a bunch of stuff from the table onto the bed. She didn't exactly mount the vampire; she sat beside, one leg folded beneath her, the other bent at the knee over Willow's chest with a boot planted firmly near her head. She showed the vampire a hard wood paddle.

"I don't see why you need something like this. I should be enough, don't you think?"

With a snap, Kitten flung the paddle behind her, the toy smacking with a crack against a wall. Willow literally jumped in her chains.

"Or stuff like this," Kitten continued, Trailing a string of large beads up Willow's chest before she brought it up to the vampire's wide eyes. Kitten tossed them over a shoulder. "Or this," she repeated, shaking a hand like it were holding dice only to open them and reveal nipple clamps. She tossed those carelessly behind her too. "I'm kinda jealous," Kitten nearly pouted as both her hands gripped the nipples of Willow's breasts firmly. "You responding to those little things when you could be responding to me." She gave what she gripped a little pull. "Do you really need all those things, baby?"

Willow arched into the painful tug, keeping a lid on her throat's desire to groan as the twin grips shot pleasure straight to her groin. She shook her head back and forth frantically.

"What if we were in the woods? In the desert? With no little bag of toys? How do you think I'd have you then?" Kitten then whispered, and she moved the leg bent over Willow so that her honey hair and warm breath fell upon Willow's face and throat as she spoke. She manipulated the vampire's hardened nipples with her hands. Then she released them, and Willow felt those hands move down to her hips in a possessive grip.

"I'd have you over a log, I'd have you in a cold stream. I'd have you unforgiving on mountain rocks and inside caves," Kitten growled, the rumble in her chest making Willow's body flare in arousal again.

"I thought you liked pain," Kitten answered. "Did I say you could speak?" she added with a hint of incredulity.

Willow shook her head vehemently again. She felt slack on her chained ankles just as Kitten suddenly pulled the vampire's pelvis up, grinding Willow's vulnerable sex against the seamed, rough fabric of her jeans. Willow threw her head back.

"I'd have you like this," Kitten breathed, frictioning the tough material into Willow. "I'd have you roughly, out there, in the middle of nowhere. I'd be all you need." Kitten thrusted hard, then dropped Willow's hips. She reached up to undo her belt, the metal clinking as she pulled the black leather from its loops.

"I'll have everything," Kitten murmured, trailing the cold metal buckle down Willow's body. "Everything you need." Then she pressed the cool metal to Willow's sex.

Willow jumped. She tried desperately to stay still, wanting to force herself onto the buckle Kitten held unyieldingly against her needy pussy.

Willow whimpered, happy to comply. She thrusted up eagerly into the bit of metal Kitten held, not caring how desperate and wanton she looked. She hoped Kitten would let her cum, she hoped –

"Should I still be jealous?" she heard Kitten say above her, warmth of a smile evident in her tone. Willow shook her head again. Oh she – faster, faster, need to move faster –

"I wonder if I can be enough," Kitten's voice now said, with a hint of a pout. "You could be humping a coke machine for all I – "

And Kitten suddenly lifted her hand and the wet, glistening buckle, leaving Willow rubbing against air.

"I didn't say you could talk," Kitten frowned, as Willow stared wild eyed into her disapproving blue eyes.

"Kitten!!" Willow wailed. She could feel the belt being dropped unheeded between her legs. Kitten was reaching up for the bandana at her throat, undoing the loose knot.

"You're a bad little vampire," Kitten chastised. "You're not respecting me." She was very quick as she formed the bandana into a gag, but instead of wrapping the wide part around Willow's mouth, she looped that around the back of Willow's head, then tied a large, double knot in the front. She pushed the knot between Willow's lips, forcing it between her teeth, then secured it tight.

Kitten then moved forward on all fours above her, catlike, checking on her wrist manacles. Willow could see into the generous opening of her shirt and the hanging bounty of her luscious tits. She moaned distressingly against the gag as she felt the warm softness of those breasts brush her face slightly.

Kitten withdrew and reached for her belt, lying discarded on Willow's belly. She ran it beneath the vampire's body, and then drew it tight – very tight – right over Willow's own small breasts. Willow's eyes widened as Kitten bound her breasts. The leather pressed excruciatingly on her hard nipples as Kitten cinched the belt closed. Kitten then wrapped the extra belt leather around her hand and pulled hard as Willow's wrist chains suddenly slackened. Willow's upper body hung helplessly above the bed as Kitten stared blue-eyed and with mischievous intent into the vampire's eyes.

Maybe it had been the taunting challenge in Kitten's voice. Maybe it had been her demon pride responding to her Pet's arrogant choice of words. All Willow knew was that her demon came roaring to the fore, fanged and spoilin' for something, as she hit the bed, stomach first, feeling magic secure her ankles and wrists again. When she sensed that her restraints remained slack, she struggled fiercely, wanting to break free and make Kitten –

She felt a weight land on her back. She bucked, but the weight rode with her and then slammed boots into the bed, the legs straightening out and pushing a pelvis flat into the small of her back. She felt soft, big boobs press into the rest of her and a strong hand dig into the belt strapped around her. An arm snaked underneath one of hers and then braced over her neck, forcing her face first into the bed. The chains on her wrists pulled taut. Willow screamed and bucked and struggled, but Kitten had a wrestler's hold on her, pitting her body's leverage and strength against the vampire's.

"You – " she heard her Kitten ground out, as she ruthlessly pushed Willow's body back down again. "Are a really bad little vampire, aren't you?"

And with that, Willow felt an insistent hand run down the front of her resisting body right to her wet sex, cupping it. And then she felt the warming flash of Kitten's magic right on her –

Willow mewled piteously against her gag, her resistance rendered jello and her demon rage and face receding – shrinking before Kitten's loving touch. Light, Light inside her! Willow practically groveled at the sensation of light magic roiling through her ready cunt. The moment the magic faded, Willow recovered and vigorously renewed her defiance – bucking against Kitten once again. Futilely she defended her demon's disobedience. Kitten doesn't tame Willow, no she doesn't, no no no –

She cried out again, almost a wail, feeling Kitten push fingers and magic into her wetness this time, fiercely warming her core. She was on fire, she was burning, sunlight inside –

"Are you going to be my good Willow?" Kitten breathed hotly into her back, her hair and lips lovingly brushing her skin. "Are you going to be my good little Will?"

The vampire's mouth made needy sounds against the gag, her body finally submitting to Kitten's golden, branding touch. For that searing heat she'll willingly forget that she was a bad thing. She'll forget that she's evil. Just for this, yes, yes yes yes...

Possessive kisses trailed down her back as Kitten's warm weight slipped off and re-positioned behind her. One set of fingers slipped out of her clenching channel to be replaced by another, just as piercingly full of sun and magic fire. Each firm, deep stroke of those fingers felt like an invocation: love, love, love, love. Willow never felt anything like it, her womb was aflame. No longer was this dominance, no longer about power and violence. Here was something far more dangerous than anything Willow had ever allowed herself to submit to, and already she was lost to it. Completely vulnerable. Scared even.

The demon within her sniveled and snarled viciously and curled up like a beaten thing before the light overtaking her body. Willow silently wept into the bed, hips thrusting back into her Kitten's hand.

Tara sensed her vampire's distress. Had she been too hard? Did she push too far? Willow knew only pain and violence – that, and spectacular physical couplings. Tara wanted to give Willow something different. What she knew how to give.

"C'mon Will," she murmured lovingly to her vampire, reaching to soothe her back with firm touches. "C'mere, sweet baby. Come for your Kitten."

Willow's body responded on hearing her witch's words. She wanted to cum for Kitten, she wanted that. She could do that. She moved harder into the hand. Her Kitten cooed to her, encouraging.

"That's it baby. You're my Will. You're my good baby. You're my good, sweet Will."

I'm her good Will, I'm her good Will, Willow babbled in her mind, feeling Kitten's magic sear her once again. I'm her good Will!

"You're my sweet girl. You're my sweet Willow." Tara placed a moistened finger at the vampire's nether entrance, and slowly pushed in. "You're my vampire."

Willow keened into her gag as she felt the intimate double penetration. Kitten's magic was building, and Willow was feeling a tremendous pressure in her center, in her dead womb. Her body, electrified, pistoned powerfully, and nothing felt more right at that moment than her complete possession by Kitten. In her every dead cell to the tip of her toes she was feeling it. In her very mind and in her cowering demon, Willow knew, this was where she should be. Kitten had Willow, Kitten owned Willow – Willow, was, Willow, was,

Even her demon agreed. Hated how it happened. Wanted to instinctively tear Kitten apart for it. But...right now. This night. Kitten owned Willow. The demon laid itself down to that, and agreed.

My third death, Willow thought wryly. She closed her eyes and laid still and heavy against her warm Kitten. Her warm Kitten with the torn cotton shirt hanging off her bared shoulder. Her warm Kitten whose exposed, pillowy breasts she was now resting upon. Her yummy Kitty who still had her jeans and soaked boots on. Willow raised a languid, searching hand and fumbled for Kitten's button fly.

She finally managed to work the jeans down, with Kitten's help, and directly attacked her witch's wet, hot center with her tongue. Kitten's reaction was immediate. Willow wanted to give Kitten more than just one, though. She kept her mouth and fingers working industriously, almost oblivious to the number of orgasms she successfully induced until a hand tangled insistently in her hair.

"Oh please – Will – no more," Kitten gasped raggedly, and Willow finally relented. She moved backwards to grab Kitten's foot and pull on her wet boots, nearly falling off the bed while doing so, and then pulled off her witch's jeans. Then she clambered back up Kitten's body, falling heavily against her warm witch.

"I squirted," she piped suddenly, thinking how significant that was, since it was her first time, ever, doing the female ejaculation thing. Wow.

"It's all right," Kitten merely said, as Willow snuggled closer. She managed to pull the heavy coverlet over them, making sure to keep the damp spot away.

"They are," Tara whispered. "Go to sleep." Willow was already dead asleep when Tara's lips met her forehead's in a gentle good night.

Tara lay staring sightlessly for a while, the candles Willow had strewn around the room now burning low, leaving a few melted mounds flickering. Sometimes a woman thinks of things best not to think, she thought sadly, as shadows wavered into the dim dark. She wished her mind had stayed sated and still. But sometimes a woman just can't help it.

Tara blinked, and allowed herself only two tears. She wiped them away, and settled down with her vampire. Soon, there was the sound of one woman's even breathing, indicating deep sleep.

What Sunnydale residents liked about the day was that it was safe. Generally safe, for a town with the highest disappearance rate in the state, anyway. Although in the last week, the night seemed to have returned to the possession of its human inhabitants as well, surprisingly and receptively enough. But day could still be counted on as reliably ordinary, almost without strange incident – possibly even non threatening. For anyone who cared to notice, delusion was a well practiced skill of Sunnydale residents. Life blissfully went on.

So while the human citizens of Sunnydale rose with the day and lived, the beings of the night eased into their daytime habits. Buffy found herself awake in her hospital bed, realizing that since her injury she had done nothing at night but sleep. Angel lay like a dead body in his apartment bed and dreamed. Kendra positioned herself strategically on the Watcher's couch and clutched her stake in her light slumber. Giles perused his dusty texts and kept eye over a silent high school library. Anya stared at bright sunlight outside the window of the Espresso Pump, sipped her coffee, and contemplated whether she should put up a 'help wanted' sign in the Magic Box today.

In this, her rare daytime hours, Willow did not want to think of the significances of her nights. Especially of last night. If she started thinking about what happened last night, she might get confused, or upset, or even angry, so Willow focused only on simple things; watching Kitty sleep, and flicking her cool tongue over her yummy, warm breast.

"Good morning, Kitten!" Willow chirped, too perky for such a wake up call. She put her mouth to Kitten's now hardened nipple and suckled.

"Oh god!!" Kitten said with a jerk. "Willow – I-I-I have to use the bathroom!"

"Okay," Willow said, after reluctantly letting go of Kitten's sweet nipple with an audible 'pop'. "I'm going to visit Mummy." The nude vampire scrambled off the bed and suddenly left the room.

Tara put a hand to her stimulated breast, not sure of what had happened, and then blushed, remembering everything that had happened before they'd fallen asleep. She groaned as she tried to get up. Her shoulder was definitely out of whack, and her back! Tara felt like she'd been worked sun up to sundown, pulling a tractor, as she dragged her sorry, sore self out of bed. She didn't even try to pull her torn shirt back on as it slipped half off, having given up on modesty. Since Willow was going to walk around her house buck naked, Tara might as well – um, well, walk around half naked in her own bedroom, too. She got herself into the bathroom, and began her morning business.

Willow entered her sire's room and tunneled herself into the covers at the foot of the bed. She crawled up to where Dru lay.

"Mummy, mummy, mummy, mummy," she said beneath the covers as she snuggled close to her sire. Mum usually didn't respond the first time around to her childe's wake up calls. Willow chanted again, then waited. This went on for almost fifteen minutes.

Dru finally groaned. "Mummy's sleeeeping, bad Precious," she protested to her unrelenting childe.

"Mummy, I've been playing with pixies again, I want you to look at me," Willow said beneath the covers.

Dru groaned again, then sleepily dragged up her eager childe from inside the bed.

"You're all dipped in honey," Dru murmured, looking at her childe's sweet face with one half closed eye.

"Kitten put her magic inside me, and now I'm all toasty. But last night it was like radium, in my tummy. So now, will I get cramps later? Or rupture something? Or maybe spontaneously combust? Cos I'm still all rosy, but I'm a dead thing, so maybe a fire might accidentally start in my – "

"Okay!" Willow brightly agreed. Dru turned back to her childe with a surgeon's scalpel in her hand.

"You're no fun," Dru pouted, and tossed the razor sharp tool over her shoulder. She made her way down her childe's body and pressed her forehead to Willow's belly.

"Hm," Dru murmured. "Scorched, not razed. Careful cubby. No daisies will grow though. Dead soil."

"Oh," Willow said. She didn't know why, but she felt suddenly sad for some reason.

Willow strained her ears, wondering if her mum was getting all prophesy woman on her tummy.

"BRRRUPH!" came the loud noise as Dru wetly blew a raspberry into Willow's belly button.

"WAH Mummy!! AH!!" Willow cried in sheer delight, and squirmed and giggled helplessly in her sire's grasp.

Tara toweled her wet hair and stepped curiously out into the hall, hearing Willow's ecstatic screams from Dru's room. She smiled warmly. Good sounds. She returned inside to finish up getting ready for the day. It was nearly noon, and she was behind on some things she'd like to do.

When Willow skipped her au natural self into her bedroom again, Kitten was stripping her bed.

"Oh, you don't have to do that!" Willow protested. Willow did her own housekeeping since she didn't keep minions. Magic helped, but Willow was reluctant to abuse the gift, thanks to certain personal experiences. Now that she had Kitten, she was thinking that getting a housekeeper would be very prudent. More time for Kitty. Willow picked up her Palm and made some notes.

"I m-might have to do some laundry later," she heard Kitten say hesitantly. "I could do yours as well." When Kitten was self conscious, she would tuck some loose honey hair behind an ear. Like right now. Day Kitty was so soft and shy; so different from confident, amazon Night Kitty. Willow tossed her Palm onto the now bare bed and bounced into Kitten's personal space, noticing how her nudity made her witch's blue eyes look elsewhere. Yep, daytime shy Kitten!

"Nope," Willow said, putting arms around Kitten. "I'll do it. I ruined your clothes last night after all." Kitten was wearing a long pretty skirt today, with a body clinging, half sleeved top. It barely covered her soft, pale tummy.

"Oh th-that's okay, Willow. I can mend the shirt," her Kitten stammered. "Um, I was going to go down right now and do some baking in your kitchen, if that's okay."

"Kitten!" Willow exclaimed. "Me casa is your casa. Didn't I say so? I hope you can find what you need in there, it doesn't have much stuff."

"Dru and I went to a market before coming back here," Kitten informed, and then Willow just kissed her.

After a few more of Willow's surprise attack kisses, Tara pulled back from the vampire's arms.

"I-I-I'll g-go down, and," she stuttered, looking down at Willow's nude body. With admirable effort she left Willow's arms and fled the room.

"Oh, no mid-noon nookies," Willow pouted to her now empty bedroom. She picked up her Palm and made a note to order a kitchen bake set. Then she made another note: get robe. She thought a moment, then wrote: Get Mum robe. Not that she and mummy usually wore such things, but maybe that would make Kitten more comfortable with spontaneous snugglies. Willow grinned and went to take a shower.

When Tara reached the kitchen, a young blonde woman in a black tee and black jeans was seated at the island counter eating...cocoa puff cereal. Chocolate cereal that was floating in something dark, like...

"Um, hello," Tara said softly, realizing that she may have just done something really stupid, announcing her presence. Tara, silly girl, that's a vampire!

Before Tara could react to that, the blonde continued. "You know what, I don't know what the rules are in dealing with you. Wills could have my eyeballs dug out for this. Can we totally pretend we didn't see each other?"

The witch only nodded. As the blonde vampire rapidly scarfed down her blood and cereal, Tara moved to the other counter to unpack the bag of groceries she'd brought last night. The vampire picked up her bowl and spoon and quickly washed it in the sink.

"I better get my ass downstairs again. Nice seeing you!" the blonde called out as she passed Tara for the kitchen doorway.

"Okay. Bye," Tara said politely to where the vampire disappeared. She returned to setting out her ingredients for brownies. She pulled out two brand new bake pans and a measuring cup from another grocery bag and rinsed them. She looked in the bottom cupboard. Oh good, a mixing bowl.

"Kitten, you should make a list of everything you think this kitchen needs. Like a bread dough machine or sumthin'. Oh! And your own spice rack. There's mine!" Willow announced proudly as she entered the kitchen, her hair still wet and combed back.

Tara conveniently bumped her head on the cupboard edge when Willow's presence was suddenly made known to her. Gingerly she rubbed her head and peered curiously at the spice rack Willow pointed to.

"Oh goodness! Some of these are poisonous!" Tara exclaimed, reading the carefully handwritten names.

"I know, I'm an evil witch. Maybe we should lock up my stuff," Willow suggested, without any hint of remorse. "Whatcha making, Kitten? It looks like chocolate cake, or, I know! Is it brownies? Are you making magical brownies? Cos I have a tin over there of grade A quality cut – "

"Oh n-n-no," Tara interrupted hastily. "These are going to be the ordinary, 'yay, chocolate!' brownies, and not the, 'yay, I'm flying!', um, brownies."

"Oh," Willow breathed, disappointed. "I like 'wee, I'm flying!' brownies. But," and Willow's face brightened. "Magical cookies, later? Those would be just as good!"

Tara just nodded and decided it was best to set to work before Willow suggested any other magical baked goods. Willow hopped up on a countertop and swung her legs, watching Kitten.

"You have it all memorized," Willow admired, as Kitten portioned out butter and chocolate for melting, then prepared a bowl of flour with sugar, salt, and other ingredients – all without really measuring. Willow had a scientist's brain. Everything had to be measured exactly, or else a potion ended up soup. Yet she knew there were witches who could work intuitively with ingredients, although usually they were pretty old witches. "Are you like that with spells?" she asked her witch.

"Oh no," Tara answered. "That would be disastrous." Willow nodded. Didn't she know it. Suddenly she yawned.

"You're up too early," Tara grinned at her. "You should go back to bed." Willow shook her head.

"Well, I was going to visit Buffy because I haven't seen her for a few days," Tara answered, as she worked to fold the flour into the now melted chocolate batter. Oh ow, she forgot about her sore shoulder. The vampire suddenly held out her hands for the bowl. Willow was such a slim thing, but her preternatural strength was perfect for mixing without effort.

As Willow folded the dough she made another mental note: electric mixer for Kitten.

"A-and I was going to meet Mr. Giles at his place, after his day at Sunnydale High ends," Tara continued as she retrieved the now thoroughly mixed batter from Willow.

Tara lowered her eyes. She had told Willow the night of Dru's party that she was seeking the Watcher's help with her demon heritage problem, but this visit was going to be about more than just that. It was awkward trying to bring the real subject up to Willow though, so for now, just this little...harboring of the truth.

"I'm believing you and Anya more and more about that, b-but I guess I just want a third opinion. Are you, um, offended?"

"Of course not, baby. I'm not offended. At least you're fighting your brainwashing."

"I know! While you bake, I'll make you brunch! It sounds like you have so much to do today, so take my car. No more nasty, cowardly cabbies for my Kitten."

"Oh God, Tara these are great," Buffy groaned as she maneuvered her brownie for another bite. She managed to get a crumb into her nose instead and sneezed. "Argh! I hate being prone girl!"

"Tara, I'll take the brownie, and you can give Buffy her milk," Joyce said firmly and in a very mom-like voice.

"Yes, Mrs. Summers," Tara acknowledged and fed Buffy the milk with straw as Joyce cleaned her daughter of crumbs.

"Do you remember Mom, when I was fifteen and that demon broke my arm in like three places, you gave me milk and brownies the whole two weeks. Then you said it was to make me take my calcium. How tricky is that?" Buffy said, looking at Tara.

"It worked, didn't it?" Joyce retorted. "Your arm was as good as new in just two weeks."

"Your daughter's a superhero," Tara said admiringly. It just amazed her, what Slayers were. Here Buffy was so tiny, but she could do incredible things.

"Oh she's a superhero all right. But now that I have her stuck in bed, I can do this!"

"Ow! Mom!!" Buffy protested as Joyce, feeling evil, decided to pinch her daughter's cheek.

"This is why I walked to school instead of riding with her, so no one would see the humiliation she puts me through," Buffy told Tara, rolling her eyes.

"Here, eat your brownie," Joyce ordered. "You haven't had as much milk today as you should, young lady. We're going for a record breaker in Slayer healing."

Buffy would have said something smart aleck, but Joyce deliberately stuffed her daughter's mouth with more chocolate.

"Tara, how are you doing?" Joyce said pleasantly, turning her attention to the witch. Tara liked Mrs. Summers. She was an attractive, older woman, with warm, interested eyes. Tara could see where Buffy got her fierce independence from, much to Mr. Gile's chagrin. Daughter fought with mother like cats with dogs, but Tara knew that Buffy's early calling as the Slayer had somehow bonded them further.

"I hear new things have happened to you," Joyce continued meaningfully. "I hope things haven't been difficult?"

Tara shook her head. "It's been going pretty well, actually. I take it day by day."

Joyce nodded, and then Buffy gestured frantically, as the gooey brownie had made her unable to talk. After drinking down yet another carton of milk, Buffy spoke up.

"I don't think so," Tara answered, perplexed. "I thought the last Master was sort of a king with a court and lots of littler – "

"And there's only Willow, Dru, and – " Tara thought of the blonde vampire and amended herself. "M-me at the house. Wouldn't it take alot more to be super Master?"

"From what I hear, all you need is Wills," Buffy scoffed, and seeing Tara's confused look, realized she should cover up her comment. Angel had told her of some of the ewwy stuff Willow had done in the sewers. If Tara didn't know about it, maybe the gentle witch ought to never know, since the ewwies had been done in her name, actually.

"Oh Wills has been kicking bootie here and there in the vampire community, for messing with what's hers, namely you," Buffy glossed over casually. "She has them running scared."

"Here honey, more chocolate," Joyce suddenly encouraged, and stuffed her daughter's mouth with another brownie.

"What Buffy wants to know as well is, do you think Willow wants to open the Hellmouth? Maybe, end the world?" Joyce asked Tara.

"I h-hope not," Tara replied, concerned. "She just told me this morning about the books she's buying for her new library, and w-we even talked about what to order for the kitchen. If she's buying me an electric mixer, does that mean she wants the world to end later?"

"No, just sounds like you two are moving in together," Joyce simply answered, relieved about the 'no apocalypse today' news.

Tara merely stared off elsewhere, wide eyed, at Joyce's observation, and Buffy waved frantically for the milk again.

"You know Tara, you make a lousy spy," Buffy accused when she finally drained another carton. "And Mom, I am so going to be on the pee bag all night," she complained to Joyce, who just looked smug.

"I'm sorry," Tara apologized. "About being a bad spy and um, y-your bag. Do you want me to ask Willow something, then?"

Buffy just stared at Tara like the witch had grown another head. "Tara, she'll just lie, it's a vampire's evil nature."

The witch shrugged. "If you believe she's lying, th-then when I tell you what she says, you can believe the opposite."

"But," she began. "What if she tells you the truth so I believe the opposite, or lies so I believe the truth, and then does what she lies, or – "

As Buffy munched on her last yummy chocolate baked goodness, Joyce turned to Tara apologetically.

"I see your situation almost like a Willow 'the Godfather' kind of thing," Joyce said, in an understanding tone. "To put it mildly, you're like the gangster's moll. And you know what happens to molls when they ask too many questions."

"They get electric mixers?" Tara asked. "But I know what you mean," she reassured hastily. "I don't think I'll get i-into big trouble if I just ask Willow about, um, her plans."

"If you feel it'll be safe," Joyce cautioned, reaching across the bed to pat Tara affectionately on the arm. Stuck between them, Buffy could only make 'drinky now!' gestures.

As Tara stepped into the small apartment living room, she didn't see the Watcher.

"I owe you an apology," Kendra said stiffly, as she also stood stiffly, military at rest style.

"No." Kendra held up a hand. Her unwavering, narrowed gaze held Tara's. "Dis needs to be said. You killed the Master. Hard for me to accept, but Buffy says it's true. So here you are, a vampire killer, a person who fought evil, and you are also their woman. Dat, for me, is even harder to accept."

"Tara!" she heard called from the apartment stairs, and watched Mr. Giles' tall form descend. "Sorry I was not below to greet you, had an unfortunate encounter with Miss Calendar's cup of coffee on the way out of school and had to change a shirt. How are you?"

"All's well, as much as it can be on the Hellmouth." As soon as Giles could reach Tara's side, he looked at her closely, studying her physical state. Tara lowered her eyes shyly, realizing what he was doing, and presented Mr. Giles with the tin she'd brought for him.

"Ah, for me? Why thank you, child." The Watcher opened the tin. "Lovely! brownies!" he beamed. "I'll put the kettle on for tea. Do sit down. How does English, sound?"

When they'd finally settled down in the living room with tea, brownies, and tinned biscuits, Tara and Mr. Giles conversed more comfortably. Kendra, thrown out of sorts by the casual, social setting, sat warily with her cup. It was only after Mr. Giles insisted that the Slayer eat a brownie that the young woman found something to occupy herself with. She rather relished the sweet confection, haven't never had one like it before.

"I've scoured all my resources, and have come up with nothing," Mr. Giles said, self recrimination in his voice. "Your family legend is unique and also rather faulty. The source of your magic, for one. You are Wiccan, and it is hard for me to believe that any latent demon within you would provide you with the power for light based magic. I believe Anya is correct that there is no demon currently in you. An exorcism would be beside the point. Also, Willow affirms this from having tasted your blood?"

"Ah...drank. I see," Giles corrected himself, and Kendra paused in mid brownie bite to stare with incredulity. Tara didn't wait to witness the expected disgust.

"Willow even, um, learned a song my mother and I sang, just from my blood," Tara shyly shared. "If she can know things like that, then she has to know if there's a demon."

Giles contemplated that for a moment. Extraordinary that a vampire could learn such things from just drinking blood, he thought, but he put that revelation away to focus on the matter at hand.

"I see no reason for her to lie to you," he mused, almost to himself. "Yet even without her opinion, or Anya's for that matter, I would still come to the same conclusion; your family heritage is proving itself a poorly crafted, superstitious legend, with a rather unhealthy intent of manipulating the gifted women of your family. I really feel that you have been misled, child. I do strongly feel it."

"Thank you, Sir," Tara could only say, as she was choked once more in his presence, by grateful tears. Giles reached awkwardly for the tissue box, and handed the young woman a few.

"I am very glad to be of help," he said kindly, and refilled their tea cups. "However, I do believe I'm meant to be of more assistance. You said you wanted some information?"

"Y-yes," Tara affirmed, wiping her eyes. The subject change was much appreciated. "I'd like to read up on some things, if I could. About vampires who've k-kept Pets, and about the Scourge; Darla, Angelus, Spike and Dru."

"Ah," Giles only commented, and sipped his tea. If only his Slayer – Buffy – had been this willing to seek truths rather than just believe what Angel told her. Even now, she still had complete trust, and love, for the souled vampire. However, showing his headstrong Slayer a book was akin to giving the young girl an instant nap. Gile's sighed inwardly at the observation.

"Of the former, I will happily go through my resources and note which would be relevant for you to read," he informed with a smile. "They won't be ready now, of course, as I haven't yet started, but of the latter, I've books already here which you may peruse, but I'm afraid, cannot leave my possession. They are Watcher Diaries, and though they are meant to be secret, I feel in your case, you are in dire need of knowing what they hold."

The moment Giles had mentioned 'Watcher Diaries', Kendra became agitated. Obviously she wished to voice an opinion, which the Watcher sensed as well. When he glanced her way, Kendra spoke.

"Sir," Kendra protested. "She is one of them! She should not be reading the Journals!"

"No Kendra," Giles firmly corrected. "She is one of us, fallen into an inescapable arrangement with one of them. We will do our best to help her."

"Then I should go and stake this vampire meself!" Kendra insisted. "And set dis poor woman free!"

Giles sighed, and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. "As much as I would like you to do your duty, it is not that simple," he said wearily. "Though it has been a long time since I've practiced, I can see some of the magical signature Willow has now. It is even more powerful than Tara's, who you well know," and Giles looked again at Kendra. "Was the one who killed the Master. Since Buffy could not defeat the Master, and the one who did is now enslaved by a powerful vampire witch, I think you can see where you, being untested, might fall into such an equation."

And you've yet to learn to be cunning, Giles mentally added to himself. From personal experience, he knew human Willow, despite having looked so unassuming, had been surprisingly resourceful and cunning. She had been a brilliant young girl, and from the little that Tara had told him of the vampire, it seemed that the new Willow had retained the human's gifts.

"Kendra, since we are not strong enough – yet – to face her, then we must find a way to be smart enough," Giles finally said. Frankly, he thought more to himself, the smartest option at the moment seemed to be Angel's idea. A compromise with Willow was looking more and more likely.

Kendra was silenced by Giles' words, the young Slayer seriously mulling over them. Although it made Tara extremely uncomfortable, hearing people talk of staking Willow, Giles' response made it clear that no one was going to attempt to, anytime soon. She decided to take that opportunity to ask a question that had been bothering her since coming to the Watcher's home.

"I, I've been wondering...I did ask Buffy t-to take credit for the Master's death," she said, somewhat embarrassed to bring it up. "And yet, Kendra knows."

"Dat's me fault," Kendra spoke up. "Buffy could give no details of how she did the kill, and I wanted to know, should I face such a vampire in the future."

Giles nodded. "Buffy and myself felt it best Kendra knows. And as you know, Joyce knows, as she and her daughter have an agreement that there should be no secrets between them, which seems to include anything concerning Slayer business," he added wryly. Frankly, Joyce was practically a second Watcher, in his private opinion. "The only people who know that you killed the Master, and that Buffy did not, are still myself, Buffy, Joyce, now Kendra, and of course Willow and Drusilla. And unfortunately the Watchers' Council." Giles sighed. "I'm sorry I had not known your wishes earlier, else I would have amended my report to them."

"I-it's okay," Tara smiled. "They are in England, anyway." Giles returned the smile.

"But how did you kill the Master?" Kendra pressed. "Buffy only felt his bones and dust, and saw nothing."

Tara paused. She never tried to think of that night if she could. It had been violent and frightening, and she had not moved fast enough to save Buffy from her injury, even though the Slayer was vehemently grateful that Tara had saved her life. And to have been so close to death herself. She had nightmares of him, the Master, his cruel, reptilian-like demon visage still glaring hate and death close to her face. She knew she had the nightmares, but their lasting effect had been muted somehow, since sharing her bed with either Willow or Dru.

"How did the fight get to dat point? What else did you use? What was Buffy doing?" Kendra asked.

"Kendra," Giles addressed, offering up the tin that held the brownies. "I believe this is the last one. Do take it." When the young woman looked at him and didn't move to accept, Giles offered the tin once more. "I do insist," he suggested almost warningly.

With his second Slayer easily preoccupied with eating the chocolate, Giles turned to Tara.

"Have you spoken to anyone about that night?" he asked gently. Tara shook her head.

Giles nodded. "It's easier for warriors to speak of these things," he reassured. "Yet not so easy for we ordinary folk." He was rewarded by a tremulous smile from the young witch. "If you'd like, you can write your account of that night down, and give it to me. It will be kept in safekeeping with my own Watcher's Diary. I can give Kendra permission to read it, if you wish. Other than her, no one will know of it until my own Diary is archived at the Council. By then, you will probably not feel yourself, or those you love, compromised by its knowledge."

"I w-would like that, thank you," Tara accepted graciously, happy for this opportunity to lay that night to rest.

"Now," Giles said, as he noticed Kendra polishing off her brownie with more tea. "Let me show you those lurid Watcher accounts of the notorious Scourge."

Thankfully, someone at the Council had too much time on his or her hands and had compiled all references to Angelus and his immediate family into chronological texts. As all the references were Watcher reports – spanning nearly two hundred years, with the latter reports focusing on the exploits of Spike and Dru – Tara was finding herself making little headway in the material, and yet learning way too much. It was just as Willow had told her, except explained with greater attention to gory detail and body counts.

With what she'd already learned of Willow's family members, Tara could easily extrapolate what the rest of the later Watchers had to say. But yet...she was hoping, if she could just stick with reading further, to see perhaps a development. Some difference, some experience, that would show the vampires as more than beasts. In over a century of living, could they not change a little – grow just a little? Watchers watched from the outside, or after the fact; they didn't live with the vampires, experience their actual unlives. She looked at the Dru that were in the accounts and then thought of the Dru she knew. She wondered what Spike – who was once William – will be like, when she finally should meet him.

She glanced up to where the Watcher was intent on feeding the pet rat, the former Amy Madison, her ration of pellets. Kendra, who had decided to read along with Tara and brush up on her knowledge of Angelus, suddenly rose from the dining table, stake in hand.

"Who's there?" Giles called out, realizing it had to be a vampire from the reaction of his Slayer.

As the Watcher approached the door, Kendra began to hurriedly gather up the books.

"Oh, goodness!" Tara suddenly realized, as Giles opened the door to Angel. "It's dusk! I-I should be going."

"Tara," Angel said, realizing that the third heartbeat he had sensed in the apartment was hers.

Tara only gave him a quick, shy smile. Like that first time seeing Buffy in the hospital, she was affected again by her knowledge of his time as Angelus, thanks to the reading she had done tonight. It was a bit disconcerting, and she was beginning to suspect why.

"Mr. Giles," she said as she moved to gather her shoulder bag. "Thank you so much for your help and for the tea."

"Tara. Do call me. We will certainly do this again," Giles replied, his words vague enough not to inform Angel of anything specific, yet comforting enough for Tara to know that she was entirely welcomed to the Watcher's home. Tara smiled gratefully.

"Tara, has Willow set a curfew for you?" Angel asked rather bluntly, still standing in the doorway. From the young woman's outburst just a moment earlier, he wondered if Tara had missed her curfew. That was cause for severe punishment for the Pet.

"Um, n-no," Tara answered. "Willow never asked when I would be home. I'd just like be there by the time Dru and Willow wake up."

"Do you need a ride, Tara?" Giles suddenly inquired, remembering her unfortunate cab experience.

"I'll walk you to it!" came the statement, simultaneously from both ends of the room. Tara looked from Kendra, who was glaring stakes at Angel, to Angel, who was his usual, large, overcoated, stoic self, in the doorway.

"To save Tara the trouble of a choice, perhaps I'll walk her to her car," Giles drily suggested, looking back and forth at the two natural antagonists as well.

As she and the Watcher left through the courtyard, the witch glanced back worriedly.

"I hope not," Giles muttered. "I'll never get my deposit back. Oh my," he then said, pausing in admiration of the vintage, black Impala.

"I say," Giles continued, bending to admire the polished, chrome dash. Tara had left the top down, leaving the interior easier to view. "Quite." The vampire Willow was certainly full of surprises. The vintage machine was in impeccable condition.

Willow was busy polishing Kitten's cowboy boots when Harm finally approached her in the living area. Dusk was already approaching, and the blonde vampire knew it was time she and the boys headed out to do the work they were assigned.

Harm's boys filed into the living area, went to their knees before Willow and kept their heads down. Willow continued polishing. Eventually she dropped Kitten's boots beside her on the table and picked out a cigarette from the small lacquered box beside her. She lit it.

"You will go out," she said, taking a drag, then exhaling. She shut the lighter off with a click. "Kill what you can kill, and what proves difficult, work together to annihilate. You'll be wiping out nests with vamps that outnumber you. You are strong, but you will be smart too. Retreat when you have to. Return to finish the job."

Willow took another pensive draw. "You are brothers. You are ruthless. You will show no mercy." Four pairs of lowered eyes began to glow yellow before her. "You will destroy for me."

"Kitten," she then said pleasantly, her tone still calm but suddenly...affectionate.

Four pairs of yellowed eyes fought hard not to look up, the male vampires confused by the sudden change of voice of their Master. They became aware of a beating heart in the room.

Tara realized when she had entered the house through the kitchen, that Willow was speaking seriously to someone. She stood in the kitchen doorway and saw the female blonde vampire standing at a distance behind Willow's armchair, hands formally behind her back. Four male vampires were kneeling submissively before Willow. Tara looked at Willow again when she heard the vampire address her.

Willow, from her position, did not turn to regard her Pet but merely continued smoking, and Tara realized that for the first time in their relationship, they were in the presence of other subordinate vampires and she was expected to fully play her role. Without further delay she left the doorway and walked silently and quickly to Willow's armchair. Once she reached it, she took a seat on the floor by Willow's legs. She hoped that she had guessed right as to her proper behavior. When she felt Willow's hand caress her hair, she was secretly relieved.

"Eyes up," Willow ordered quietly, and the faces of four male vampires, their eyes still tinged yellow, looked up and immediately fixed on Tara.

"This is my Kitten," Willow said, as she caressed Tara's hair and smoked her cigarette. "Regard her as you would regard me. You will address her as Mistress. You kill," Willow continued, emphasizing the word. "To protect her, as you do to please me."

"Yes Master!" the four vampires growled, their demon visages suddenly breaking to the fore.

"Go have fun," Willow bade, and as the vampires rose and quickly followed their sire, Harmony, out the living area, Willow took one last, smug drag of her cigarette. Putting the small stub out in the ashtray and exhaling, Willow then bent forward and planted a kiss on the top of her Kitten's head.

"Very good," Tara responded from her seat on the floor. She looked up at Willow. "I-is your business done for the day?"

Willow watched as Kitten lowered her blue eyes, biting her lip unconsciously. Before the vampire could ask what was the matter, Kitten spoke up.

"Minions?" Willow helpfully supplied, and her Kitten nodded. "Oh definitely. I do mix you up, don't I, Kitten. You're supposed to be 'Pet' you when I am acting as a Master, and yet when we're alone or with Family, I want my 'Playmate' you. Unlike tradition, I give you so many liberties."

Tara nibbled her lip. She rather hoped Willow would continue to give her those liberties.

"Which is what I love about you," Willow concluded, kissing Tara on the forehead. "Let's get you dinner!" the vampire then announced. "What would you like?"

"...karmic, isn't it? I hated Harmony the Harpy in high school," Willow finished relating to Kitten, as she lolled on the thick blanket and large cushions laid out before the pleasantly crackling fireplace.

Tara trailed off, as she fed Willow a black olive, which the vampire willingly accepted. The blonde witch had suggested ordering Greek food, and now the fresh repast was spread between them on the blanket.

"To bring unholy terror to others and instill fear of my Name? Yep, that's Harm's job," the vampire glibly completed for Tara, as she finished chewing on the olive. She leaned back, craning her neck, and deliberately spat the seed into the flaming fireplace with a 'ping'. Tara gave her a look of mock disapproval.

"Is this like a vampire gang war?" Tara asked curiously. She thought of Joyce's 'gangster' analogy as she removed a roasted piece of bell pepper from a kebab. The witch then offered the stick to the vampire. Willow eagerly pulled off the flame broiled prawn. Tara was allergic to shrimp, unfortunately.

"If it were turf war, I'd have Harm make more minions and not send her out with just four boys. No, she's just going to clean the town up for me. I'm really the only evil master vampire left in Sunnydale, Kitten. Harm is second strongest who remains of Aurelius, and she's with me now." Willow dipped her shrimp liberally in her wine glass of blood and bit it. She can get rather used to chewing. It was fun.

"H-Harmony's boys are really big," Tara chose to comment. None of the male vampires had looked under six feet tall.

"Oh yes, they're very big," Willow affirmed, grinning, as she pulled another shrimp from her witch's kebab. Kitten just raised an eyebrow.

"Willow," she finally decided to ask. "Are you going to be Master of Sunnydale?"

"Now who's asking, Kitten," Willow lightly admonished as she raised another bloodied shrimp to her mouth. "You, or Angel?"

Tara blushed. "Um, Buffy. And she wants to know i-if you plan to open the Hellmouth and end the world."

"Buffy would ask that. She likes to get to the nitty gritty with evil types," Willow reflected, and Tara wondered if the vampire was paying a compliment, or perhaps even...waxing nostalgic. But Willow did not appear wistful.

"Since I go to the trouble of renovating the mansion and ordering all sorts of nifty household prezzies, I'm just so ready to end the world tomorrow," Willow stated sarcastically.

Tara grinned. "I did tell them something like that." Willow raised herself up suddenly and pulled her witch in for a kiss.

"So what did the Watcher have to say, Kitten, about you?" Willow suddenly asked, looking curiously at her witch.

"Oh. Um." Despite the sudden change of subject, Tara realized what Willow was referring to. She self-consciously tucked some hair behind an ear. "He shares the same opinion with you and Anya."

"There, see? Three," Willow held up three fingers to emphasize. "Professional opinions. Objective, even. And we didn't even charge!"

Tara nodded, too shy to look at Willow, but she couldn't help her shaky smile. This was an incredible, yet somehow draining relief. To have lived with her fear and shame for so long, and now to know she was free. It felt surreal, and too good to be true.

Only last Friday, of which this night could be considered an anniversary, Willow had relentlessly hunted her down and made her a captive. Tara would have never imagined that fateful, frightening night that she would be here now, sharing an easy, enjoyable meal with that vampire. Yet that same cold, menacing creature lay before her now, a Willow shaped person, a person who had helped her – unselfishly – with absolving her of her lifetime burden. Willow seemed to appreciate the witch as herself, as well as a woman. Tara had sensed no mind game, no malice, no manipulation, since they'd been together. Though Tara often reminded herself not to forget what Willow was, it was easy to, during soft moments like these.

"W-when I was at Mr. Giles," Tara began hesitantly. "I thought I'd read up a little, on Angelus, and the rest of your Family."

Willow was picking out morsels of salty feta from Kitten's salad and eating them as she watched her witch.

"That's smart, Kitten. I don't know everything and Mum is pretty cryptic, being nutty and all. But those Watchers can be myopic about what they focus on. Was there anything you really wanted to know?"

Tara shook her head. "I don't have questions now. I just wanted to get to know all of your, um, folks, a little better."

"Not the nicest Family to get to know, are they, Kitten?" Her witch shook her head in agreement, her soft eyes elsewhere. "So how do I compare?" Willow asked with gentle curiosity.

Kitten looked at her then, and contrary to the blonde witch's previous hesitant behavior, the blue eyed depths were now assessing, sinking into Willow's own green depths and searching.

"You're different," Kitten finally said softly, and then she slowly smiled, that one corner of her mouth lifting. "You're quirky."

Willow's eyes widened, but she grinned back. "Well I guess that's better than being called 'insane'!" she laughed. Kitten's appraisal pleased her. 'Quirky' could not begin to describe how unlike other vampires she was. She then made a playful, bitey action with her teeth at the plate of stuffed grape leaves by Kitten's side. "Rrr, I want some of that."

Kitten obliged, picking up one of the leaf wrapped appetizers. Instead of feeding one to Willow, she gazed half lidded, and bit into the thick, stuffed grape leaf herself. She offered the other half to the vampire.

"Mmm," Willow appreciated in surprise, having accepted the food portion without any benefit of blood. "I'm beginning to like food."

"It would taste even better with ouzo," Kitten commented, as she bit into another. She offered the other half again to Willow, who decided to suck in Kitten's fingers as well.

"Kitten," she accused, around a mouthful of rice and leaf. "You're not even twenty and you're talking about exotic, hard liquor."

Tara shook her head, feeling vaguely uneasy by the subtle change in Willow's eyes, as the vampire cooly tilted her head. It was almost as if she were – it was such a calculative look. Anya's imaginative 'girlfriends' scenario suddenly came to mind.

"Smart girl," Willow murmured. "Are you involved with anyone right now, Kitten?"

Tara's eyes widened in sudden fear, at Willow's too casual tone for so loaded a question. God, had she been seeing someone else, been in love with someone else –

She would not be here now, not like this. She would be – things would be worse.

"That's good," the vampire said softly. She was lying very still, watching Tara, as the fire flickered shadows over her deceptively relaxed body. She was still, Tara felt, as scorpions would be. "Would have been messy."

Tara swallowed, and saw the familiar, cold glitter in Willow's half closed, emerald eyes. 'Messy' seemed an understatement. Now Anya's scenario didn't seem so silly anymore. Her heart began to beat faster.

"Shhh, Kitten," Willow murmured from where she lay, and raised a cool hand to place over her witch's warm chest, right above her heart. The young woman's heart beat faster, a self-conscious reaction to the vampire's attention. "No worries for my Kitten," Willow soothed. She was scaring her witch, she knew, but she could not help it. While waiting for Kitten to calm down, Willow reigned in the demon within. She had never scented another human's intimate presence in Kitten's dorm room, but a long distance or absentee relationship was easily possible. How very fortunate for them both that her witch answered in the negative.

"Shhh, Kitten," Willow comforted, idly admiring the pleasing play of the fire's soft light on her witch's pale complexion and golden hair. Such a warm, inviting glow as was cast on Kitten's anxious face made such a sensual contrast to the fear that scented the air. "I'm your vampire, aren't I?" She removed her soothing hand to raise a finger and trail it down her Kitten's pale throat. "I'm your killer."

The night progressed, much as Tara had expected, with seduction, her submission, and sex by the fire. Willow was charming, Willow was oh so beautiful, and Tara knew she had been lost to this lovely Willow-face and the promises it seemed to hold, promises beyond the darkness of its demon eyes, since that Bronze night. Yet, even when lost to this face, a bittersweet part in Tara still wondered; if she managed to somehow endure her vampire's darkness, what then?

Willow was gentle, Willow was lovingly, beautifully attentive tonight. Every deliberate touch was so unlike the raunchy playfulness or carnal intensity of their previous encounters, and Tara responded in turn with all the tenderness, sensitivity, and...love, within her. To touch like this was how Tara liked to make love. Under the sweet caress of gentle, cool hands and the press of slow, worshipful kisses, Tara wanted to weep, because her fears were finally coming to the fore tonight and were weakening her. Desperately, she wanted to ask: why that night? How did you find me? Did you plan that I should stay? How long will I last here with you? Her heart's questions were finally obliterated by Willow's loving mouth on her most intimate place. Tara arched and twined desperate fingers in Willow's hair.

When they finally lay sated, Willow atop her, Tara turned her head to stare into the fire. She didn't realize that moisture had fallen from one of her eyes until Willow tenderly licked it away.

"Why so sad, Kitten?" Willow whispered softly. "Am I really so bad?" Tara felt her heart hurt, to hear that.

"No," she whispered back, still watching the flames. "I just..." She turned back then, to Willow, needing to see her eyes. "Will you...can you keep your promise to me?"

Willow remained silent a moment, wondering if Kitten had lost faith in her already. Perhaps the Journals had told her witch too much, or, as to be expected, far too little. Willow could prove them all wrong, if Kitten was strong enough to survive her.

"I can only try," Willow offered softly. "The thing is, do you still want my evil self as a friend, Kitten?"

'Tara Maclay visited today.' Giles wrote in his Watcher's journal. 'She seemed in good spirits and did not appear to have been physically harmed. Neither Joyce or I suspect that she would hide any mistreatment from us, but it is possible that other dark intentions may be worked on her that we cannot detect; possible lies being laid, perhaps, or other controlling manipulations.'

As synchronization would have it, Giles heard the open and close of his front door, signaling the return of his second Slayer. A glance at the clock affirmed that Kendra was punctual, as usual, in returning home by four a.m. Giles turned the page of his journal to a new blank surface.

Giles closed his journal, and removed his glasses. He stared silently for a while.

As Tara sped sedately past the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign and into the familiar territory of the Hellmouth, she had to wonder briefly – possibly from the practical side of her brain – why she wasn't headed the heck the other way.

Cuz you don't steal cars? her mama's voice asked with typical female Maclay ingenuousness.

Yes'm, that, and I'm the love slave of a wicked girl. Or s-something that looks like a girl, Tara mentally amended in reply. She sighed.

Yes, she was doomed. So with that accepted and out of the way, Tara returned to the contented feelings she had enjoyed before re-entering Sunnydale. Willow had been happy to lend her Kitten the car for an early morning horse ride at the local ranch, and even insisted on paying for a three hour block of time. Crisp, morning air, rolling hills, the occasional appearance of local wildlife, and a wonderful, fresh mount snorting and trotting spiritedly along the trail lifted Tara's spirits considerably.

As Tara drove into downtown Sunnydale, she nearly entertained the idea of visiting Anya at the Magic Box and getting lunch, as it was near noon. However, that didn't seem right when Anya had insisted that Tara take the Saturday off – the whole weekend, actually – and not work her day shifts at the store. The former demon had been adamant that Willow would want Tara home, despite the witch arguing that Willow would be asleep during that time.

"Has she put you through any training yet?" Anya had asked, when she'd called Tara about the work schedule change. Totally surprised by the question, Tara had stuttered a negative.

"Then she'll want you there this weekend. The earlier you learn what she likes in a Pet, the easier it will be for you," Anya had lectured. "Practicing obedience, pain tolerance, all that stuff. Besides, I'd hate to be turned into a bunny for taking away any of Willow's Tara-Pet time."

Tara bit her lip, as she drove past Main Street. Anya's fears about treading on Willow was starting to get to the witch too. She'll have to delicately broach the subject of her job – and desire for personal income – to Willow, and soon.

When she entered the mansion's kitchen, the blonde vampire – Harmony – was at the sink, washing up a now empty brownie pan.

"So I talked to Willow," Harmony said, as if she hadn't snapped. She returned to scrubbing. "And you and me can talk to each other like people, since I'm like, her second in command. So is it okay for me to call you 'Tara' instead of 'Mistress'?"

"Great," the blonde vampire said, flashing Tara a smile. "And you can call me Harmony, or Harm."

Harmony put the washed bake pan away, and then headed for the kitchen entrance. She gave Tara one of those measuring, 'fly by' stares that reminded the witch of high school hallways and snotty girl cliques.

"Yes Willow! I'm gone!" came the blonde vampire's voice and then the sound of a shutting door. Willow breezed into the kitchen. Tara, who hadn't moved yet since the experience that was Harmony, was now struck still by the slender beauty of Willow in low, tight, black leather pants and clinging, light rayon top. Buttoned only in the middle, the top parted to expose the lightly muscled abdomen and smooth chest of the redhead. And freckles. Yummy freckles.

Yep, love slave. Another great item to put on her resume, along with 'lesbian', and 'witch'.

"Rmmm, Kitty," Willow purred, instantly molding her slim body into Tara's soft and sturdier one. She then licked her witch from exposed collar bone to underneath her chin. Tara's head fell back at the wet caress and she raggedly gasped.

"W-Willow! I-I-I need to shower," Tara tried to protest. She was sweaty and dusty from the trail and not feeling very sexy at the moment.

"Nope," Willow refused, taking another long lick up to behind Kitten's earlobe as she hooked fingers into the witch's dark denim jeans. "Want to taste where you've been. Sun, mountain, trees, earth, wavy grass..." Willow's voice trailed off to a whisper, her eyes glazing as she then raised her hands to cradle Kitten's head close to hers. "Wind, blue, sky, air... Happy. Happy Kitty. I'm so glad I let you go."

"You could have ran," Willow deliberately pointed out into her ear. She licked the shell.

Tara stiffened, but then involuntarily shuddered at the intimate touch of the vampire's tongue. The fact that she had thought such a thing, even in passing, made her fear. Willow trailed her mouth wetly from Tara's ear down to the bite scar on her throat. The vampire suckled there a while, her hands caressing the young woman – petting her – and Tara, despite the squirming pleasure of that mouth, felt herself relax. Perhaps, perhaps that was all the vampire wanted to say...about that. The petting eased her fear. When Willow finally stepped back slightly, she was smirking.

"So," she continued in her breathy voice. Her eyes were wide and her look all little girl innocence. "Did Kitten find any rocks to have Willow over roughly?"

New groceries were in the refrigerator; Clem had stopped by and fulfilled Tara's grocery list. After washing her hands, the witch pulled out several items and decided to indulge. Sinfully. She cobbled together avocado slices, sprouts, and fresh smoked tuna on mayonnaise lathered over brown bread. Tara had listed just plain canned tuna on her list, so she had to wonder with delight how Clem knew to get the really good stuff. Perhaps because of Willow – that same Willow shaped vampire who was now swiping a finger in the scooped out avocado skin and sniffing the green stuff curiously.

"I've never tried this," the redhead stated, like a little girl feeling as if she had missed out on something unique.

"Avocado is wonderful. You'll like it as freshly made guacamole. I can make it for you, sometime," Tara supplied, her blue eyes sparkling as she ate her sandwich. Obviously Kitten adored the strange vegetable. Willow smeared the green stuff on the collar bone exposed between the parted lapels of her witch's buttoned shirt. As the vampire licked the avocado smear off, Tara patiently stilled. She was getting used to Willow's presumptuous, yet intimate ...oral fixations.

"It does taste good," the vampire exclaimed. "Especially on your salty goodness. I think I'll like guacamole." Then Willow rubbed her nose with a hand, as if she had smelled something funny.

Tara tried to hide a laugh as she ate. She'd already learned last night about Willow's opinion of horses. When Willow was a human four year old, she had an unfortunate birthday party pony experience.

"Horses," Willow had said nervously last night. "Like big, tall, teeth that can take your arm off horses?"

Willow, despite being a big bad witch-pire, had not been too keen on letting Tara go ridin' on arm biting beasts. The blonde witch had assured her however, that she'd learned to ride when she was a kid, and that horses really didn't like 'arm' very much anyway.

It made Tara wish that Willow could have come along to the ranch somehow; it would have made the trip more fun. She drank her milk and thought of a tiny, four year old, frightened Willow, shrieking her little red head off as a fat pony playfully nipped her little arm. Tara snorted in laughter and nearly made a mess of her milk.

"What?" the vampire asked, a slight smile and a bit of curious wonder in her slender face.

"Nothing," she grinned, reaching out to briefly caress the vampire's cool cheek. Willow felt slightly baffled. Kitten was being mysteriously affectionate and the vampire wanted to know why. Before Willow could press, Kitten had opened the fridge and retrieved something.

"Ever had a mango?" the young woman enticed with a smile, giving the fruit a small toss in her hand. The blonde witch deftly pulled out a knife from a drawer, then sat down to cut the oval, reddish, green skinned thing in her hand.

"No," Willow answered, shaking her head. Something very sweet and fruity scented the air, and the vampire sucked a little of that air in to taste it.

"Good, then we can share," Kitten declared, and handed Willow a juicy, drippy slice of ripe, rich mango fruit.

Willow always wondered how her brother Spike could indulge in so much people food and magically digest it all. Yes, 'magically' digest it, because besides the accepted fact that she was quote, alive, unquote, thanks to supernatural means, being able to eat people food with a dead stomach and deader extended digestive system was a phenomenon that made her brain do the wonky. For one thing, she had eaten more people food with Kitten than she ever had since being Turned, and her tummy felt fine. Not only that, but she was enjoying herself tremendously. Mango, besides, guacamole, was something she looked forward to smearing all over Kitten's yummy body and then licking off. She would have tried it right then, but Kitten wasn't in the mood to get sticky like that. Poo.

As Kitten threw away the remnants of the mango peels, Willow pulled her forward to lick and kiss the juices from her mouth. Mm. Yes, she's definitely going to give Kitten a mango bath one of these days. However, tonight...

Willow stepped slightly away, then picked up Kitten's wrist that wore the silver slave band. Her thumb caressed it as she gazed up at Kitten beneath her lashes.

Tara nodded. She had been trying not to think of it all day, actually. Though she knew Willow would not hurt her like...well, like that, it still made her anxious, to finally fulfill the role the vampire had always meant for her. Perhaps the young woman didn't worry about her own safety as much as whether she might displease Willow. Or perhaps, if she were truly honest, she was afraid that she might not be happy in her role at all, and that would easily lead to the vampire's displeasure too.

"Shh, Kitten," Willow hushed as she kissed her once again, and Tara could see the aroused anticipation in her green, glittering eyes. "It won't be hard, you'll see. Trust me?" Kitten nodded, swallowing. "Obey me?" Kitten again nodded. "See, simple. That's all that's needed to make me happy."

Willow raised the wrist with the bracelet and kissed it right on the sweet, rapid pulse point.

"Take a bath and make yourself pretty before the appointed time. What you're going to wear will be laid out for you. Be at my Sanctum doors at seven o'clock."

When Tara reentered her bedroom and found her old, worn travel clock, it was already two. Despite the fact that she wanted a shower, she set that need aside for the bath she was meant to have later. She went to her desk, pulled out her books, and worked on her school assignments. Hours later, while she was composing notes for a paper, she sensed something in the bathroom.

Curiosity got the better of her, and when she went to check, the sight of a softly glowing bath suite greeted her. Lit candles were strewn about, her personal bath products were carefully aligned at the bath's edge, and her brush and other accessories were neatly arranged before the mirror. Tara felt the tingle of magic in the air behind her. She exited from the readied bath suite and returned her attention to her room.

Her study lamp had been turned off, and her curtains drawn against the afternoon light. Candles now lit her bedroom as well, and upon the coverlet of her bed lay the silk, white robe. As she approached to take a closer look at the garment, she saw the single, dark red rose. It lay, blood red, right across the chest, and when Tara tentatively reached to touch it, she realized that it had thorns.

There was the quick sound of faucet handles being turned, and then the gentle thunder of water filling a tub. Tara knew better than to try to call for Willow again. She went to her desk and put her books away. Slowly, she undressed. When she heard the water's roar stop, she picked up her clock and went into the bath suite.

As she sank into the hot water and began to cleanse herself, Tara's mind drifted to thoughts of kept women of the past. Being a possession was still a woman's place in most of the present world, but she at least lived in one of those societies where independence and personhood appeared to be her right. Even in her dad's home, she still had some rights.

But she had to wonder, what had it been like, for Parisian mistresses, Chinese concubines, harem wives...all compromised women, like her. Did they fall, not from fists, but from demanded touch, into that place where they were just a body? Did they hide their thoughts, their will, before their masters like she once did with her father? It seemed fitting, that despite having tried to escape her old life, she should find herself where she was, right now; owned.

Tara ended her bath, and after drying and brushing her hair to a deep, golden shine, she applied the make up Willow had chosen for her. She knew to use little for the eyes, but to be generous with the rich shade upon her lips. She contemplated her finished visage in the mirror for a while. It was still herself, really. She often made herself up when going out. The difference was the knowledge in her eyes.

Tara rose and went to her bed for the robe. As she slipped it on, the silk caressing her warmed skin, she realized that all this, this ritual of preparation, this...nervous anticipation, would all be different, were it for love. But that wasn't the reality, so Tara vigorously chased the thought away. She picked up the flower, careful of its bite, and breathed its fragrance deeply. It did not give courage, but it gave comfort. Especially now. It was time.

As Tara silently walked, barefoot, from her room to the entrance of Willow's sanctum, she was reminded of a Cocteau film. The hall was unnaturally dark, being a vampire's home, and the electric candelabra upon the walls could have easily been held up by human arms. But that film, despite its underlying theme of possible violence between the captor and his captive, was in the end, about love as well. Again, Tara had to chase her thoughts away.

She stood before the sanctum's opaque, black glass doors, and at her presence, they hissed open immediately. Quietly, Tara stepped inside.

Outside, the city of Sunnydale settled into its sunset. Another successful day of staying alive, and its residents were happy to have survived. As people returned to their warm, welcoming homes, others readied themselves for their night life.

Kendra began her weekend patrol route, prowling the downtown alleyways. Angel wandered in a dark mood in the cemeteries, destroying anything newly risen. Buffy laid in her bed and tried to imagine an ordinary girl's life without things to kill. Giles rubbed his forehead wearily as he bookmarked yet another disquieting account of master vampires and their pets. Anya rearranged new merchandise at the counter of the Magic Box. Joyce checked the lights of her art gallery and locked up for the night.

And Willow sat serenely at her icy, translucent, white desk, eyes glittering, watching her beautiful Pet.

"Kitten," she simply breathed, and the sound echoed upon the sanctum's cold walls.

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The Master Willow Series:
The Return of Wicked Red

by psimetis

Copyright © 2004

psimetis@hotmail.com

The Master Willow Series: The Return of Wicked Red

by psimetis

Copyright © 2004

psimetis@hotmail.com

The Master Willow Series:
The Return of Wicked Red