TITLE: "Never The Twain?" Part 8/31
AUTHOR: Zahir
SPOILERS: Pretty much up through "The Replacement"
RATING: R
COUPLING: W/T (Yes! At last!), B/R, X/Ay
SYNOPSIS: This takes place in an AU in which Willow never completed the Soul Restoration Spell on Angel. From that moment on things change. A biggie is that Tara is a vampire.
ARCHIVING: Just ask is all.
FEEDBACK: Oh, yes. Please!
DISCLAIMERS: I'm playing with toys made and belonging to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. And they are way too cool to sue me for that, oh pretty please.

* * *

Garbage dumps were one reason Tara was glad she didn't have to breathe. Like this one. Unfortunately, talking did require her to inhale so she remained silent. And hoped no one asked her any questions.

"No offense, Buffy," whispered Riley from several yards away, "but why is she here?" Being a vampire, Tara had little difficulty hearing this exchange. Also, little trouble figuring out who She was.

"Weird, I know, but she keeps helping out."

"For how long?"

"Good question."

"So...?"

"We keep an eye on her. Besides. Wesley and Giles have this theory. I'll get them to explain later."

Tara thought to herself she'd try and eavesdrop on that conversation as well. Meanwhile, she circled another small hill of refuse. Mostly what she found was rats. Lots and lots of rats. Good to know if she was ever really hard up for blood. Really, really hard up. By now she was nearing another group in the party. Xander and his girlfriend Anya. Their whispers were just as easy to overhear from the darkness.

"Oh, yeah," Anya was going on, "blood sucking demons always hang out around Slayers, saving their lives even." Is anybody thinking about the demon that attacked Giles, Tara thought to herself? Isn't that why we're here?

"Like I said, she's got some kind of agenda. A secret plan. And I'm sure Buffy realizes that and is just biding her time." Not for the first time, Tara mused how Xander was much more intelligent than he let on. His theory was even right, as far as it went.

"Xander."

"What?"

"Willow."

"Yeah? What about her?"

"She's the reason Tara is always hovering. Tara likes Willow.

"Everybody likes Willow."

"Xander--she wants to have sex with her."

It was uncomfortable to hear that spoken so nakedly. Still, Tara got a little bit of a distracting pleasure as Xander tripped and fell. Anya of course helped him up again, amid various "ow's" over the pain and "ick's" over what he'd fallen into. Given that Anya's own arm was in a sling she did a good job.

"Are you okay, Xander?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Ankle needs some R & R but the rest of me is fine."

Anya's hugging of him ended as she pulled away, wrinkling her nose. "You stink."

"Here, how can you tell?"

"DEEEEEMON!" Willow's voice echoed. Xander and Anya forgotten, Tara ran in that direction. Never mind going around the piles of garbage. Using supernatural strength she scrambled over them. There! Willow was running from a bald robed figure. He looked the color of charred wood, with with eyes and veins like lava. And in one hand was something like a staff, or maybe a wand. The staff rose and pointed at Willow, now racing in the direction of Buffy.

Tara was closer. She sprang into the space between the demon's staff and Willow. Just in time.

* * *

Willow expected to feel something all burning or maybe lightning-like, or both, especially after hearing the thunder-like discharge from the demon's staff. Behind her there was a flash of eldritch light. Yet nothing happened. The expressions on Buffy and Riley's faces coming up on her looked...odd.

She turned around.

Two figures were getting up off the ground. One she recognized easily enough as Tara. But she'd never seen Tara move so tentatively, to look around her so lost. The vampire looked at her hands and began to tremble. Willow took a step towards her then stopped as a strange sound came from Tara's mouth. It seemed to be a...sob?

Meanwhile the Other figure had launched itself at the demon with the staff. It was as if a bodybuilder had a rabid leopard jump on him. Snarling, the Other literally tore open the robed demon's throat. The slurping noises that followed were disgusting.

Watching this, Tara actually whimpered. Willow stared. Since when did vampires whimper?

Now the Other looked at them full on for the first time. Not a pleasant sight. Leathery dark skin with a v-shape of jagged horns along the forehead. A snout-like nose above a befanged mouth, now dripping with gore. Pointed ears that drooped slightly in a distinctly bestial way. Only the eyes seemed even a little familiar. They were the feral yellow of a vampire.

Standing over the body, this new demon looked at them for perhaps two whole seconds. Then it raced away into the night. Riley and Buffy wasted no time running after it.

Willow approached Tara slowly. She did not seem herself.

Xander hissed at her "Willow! Be careful!"

Then, Tara turned in Willow's direction. Her expression was shocking. Frightened, for one thing. Willow had never seen Tara frightened. Not even once. More, she moved nervously, almost as if each movement was a shy jerk. She pulled her jacket closer in for warmth. That's not right, Willow thought.

Then she noticed something else. She could see Tara's breath in the cold.

Vampires have no body heat.

Willow reached out and touched Tara's hand. Warm. Her hand was warm! And Tara herself looked on the verge of tears.

In one motion Willow brought Tara into her arms, holding her tight as the girl began to silently--then not so silently--weep.

"Shhh. Its alright. I'm here..."

* * *

Danger. Run. Run faster. Run faster.

Those Who Follow must be lost. Yes. Danger in them. For now. So run. Fast. Faster. Faster still. Hide in the shadows. Run in them. This is night. My time. Shadows everywhere. Run but run silently.

Where?

To the nest. To the Parent. Yes. But not straight. No, that is how prey think. I am not prey. Stay within the shadows. And run as silent as I can. Keep the senses alert for danger. And for food.

Hungry. But not too hungry. Is there danger? No. Listen hard for any other running, for heartbeats racing because they had been running.

Nothing. No thing.

But there!

Prey! In silly loose clothes and soft shoes, running but running in a straight line and very slow.

The prey pays no heed as it passes the shadows of a tree. Stupid prey. But moments to grab it and pull it into the shadows. Fangs find where the food flows, ripping through flesh. Catch the food as it gushes. In moments the prey stops squirming. But then the food stops flowing. Must suck. Hard. Harder.

Leave the prey under leaves. That covers the trail. Enough.

Now to double back through the shadows, winding a tricky way back to the nest before the sun comes back.

Back to the nest.

And the Parent.

* * *

Giles was doing his best with a really weird situation, Willow thought to herself. Understandably he stared at Tara--how often did a Watcher get to see an ex-vampire, after all?--but he kept it to a minimum. Xander and Anya, on the other hand--their eyes were glued to the blonde. Only Willow's protective hovering kept them from asking all sorts of questions.

Tara herself was in an upright fetal position on the sofa. Willow sat alongside her, one arm around her shoulders. She'd managed to get the (now human) girl to sip some chicken soup. Other than that, Tara barely reacted to her environment at all. Now and then she fixed her eyes on Willow, but that was all.

"I believe," said Giles in a low voice, "I now know what has happened." He'd been pouring over several books for hours.

"This has gotta be good," muttered Xander under his breath. Willow shushed him with a gesture.

"Well, Toth--that's the demon who used the staff you described--his intended target was Buffy. In effect he was using magic to split her into two component parts. One would have been the Slayer, with the heritage and the strength. The other would be simply--Buffy. No more or less."

"Uh, Giles?" Xander didn't quite raise his hand. "Wouldn't that mean he'd be up against Super Slayer. Like industrial strength?"

"Indeed. But the Buffy half would be much more vulnerable. And if either one dies, they both do."

Willow took this in for a moment.

"But he hit Tara instead."

"Precisely. This is the Tara Maclay stripped, or freed, of her vampiric nature. And the other, who escaped, is the vampiric demon in its purest form. All instinct and blood lust, without even a remnant of the host's personality."

"But...But Buffy and Riley are out trying to slay it! And from you say..." Willow hugged Tara closer.

"If they succeed," Giles finished for her, "this Tara also dies."

No one spoke for nearly a minute that lasted hours. Then the front door opened. Buffy and Riley wearily stepped inside.

"We lost it," declared Riley.

"That thing was unbelievably fast," added Buffy. "I'm glad I don't have to fight what-ever-it-is too often."

"According to Giles, actually, you've been doing exactly that for years" said Xander.

"What do you mean."

"Buffy," began Willow, "what you were chasing was a vampire."

"Like no vampire I've ever seen."

"Well, both yes and no," said Giles. "That was the vampire separated from any trace of humanity. I think the idea was to use this magic on you, splitting you into Buffy and Slayer. But you weren't the one hit."

Buffy took all this in. She especially noticed Willow's arm around the form of Tara--a breathing and crying Tara.

"Oh. My. God."

"Buffy," said Willow, "this is the real Tara."

* * *

The Parent seemed pleased. He smiled. And he led the way to a room very deep and dark. The sun was rising soon. Yes. Here was a safe place. The safest part of the nest.

Sleep would come soon.

"Ah my dear Tara," whispered the Parent. What did these words mean? Or any words? It probably did not matter. "What has happened, I wonder? Such metamorphosis usually only occurs with great age. Very great age indeed. Has someone been playing with temporal magicks, perhaps? Or is it something else? I'd hate to lose such an ideal novice."

Sleep. Sleep was coming. With the sun.

Tara lay down on the stone floor to rest. She barely noticed her Sire locking the door behind him as he left.

* * *

Tara woke in warmth. Delicious warmth out of her sweetest dreams. Her eyes snapped open, a part of her flinching at the sunlight beaming through the dorm windows. It took her barely two seconds to realize where she was. With Willow.

Last night, Willow had insisted on taking care of her. Vivid as memory, but not, Tara knew who Willow was. Knew her as a beautiful young redhead who studied witchcraft. As an object of fascinated lust that was her own and yet someone else's. Willow the lovely. Willow the brave. Willow the wise. Turning, she could see Willow's face beside her in the bed. Like Tara, she was still dressed.

Willow's eyes opened.

They outshone the sun.

"Tara?" Goddess. Her voice. "How are you feeling?"

In love. "I..don't know. I'm me, but not. Does that make any sense?"

Willow nodded, whether it did or did not. "How much do you remember?"

"Everything." Too much. "But its like it was someone else. Yet it was me. Me. A monster. A demon."

"Not just that," Willow said firmly. "I know. You saved my life more than once. And helped out lots of times. Buffy's been going crazy trying to figure out why. I think I already know."

Tara could listen to her talk for hours. For decades. "Go on," she whispered.

"It was you. The part of you that isn't a demon. The human half."

Listening to this, Tara wanted so much to agree. But she couldn't. "You don't understand," she said. Tears welled up in her eyes. "I was under orders to do all that. My sire, the vampire who made me, he has plans. He wanted me to be useful to the Slayer and her friends, all part of some plan."

Willow's distress at these words nearly tore Tara's heart out. But better this than a lie. Wasn't it?

Her next words were a whisper. "Tara?"

"Yes?"

"If you were just obeying orders--that time the Mayor kept me prisoner, and we were alone?

"I remember."

"Why did you kiss me?"

Tara didn't answer that question. She'd learned to fear too much hope, and to avoid it as a ship avoids underwater rocks. But Willow's brilliant green eyes never left hers. The question hung between them. Soon, so did Tara's unvoiced answer:

Because I wanted to.

This time it was Willow who kissed Tara. Nothing more than a pressing of lips. But Tara welcomed it with a fierce, terrified hunger. She dared not take it further, exerting every drop of willpower to stop herself melting into the redhead's embrace. Not that it mattered. Willow wrapped her arms around Tara, kissing her again. A tiny moan escaped Tara. Then Willow gently traced her tongue against Tara's lips.

Defenses against pain began to crumble now. Simple kisses grew deeper. Hands and fingers began to wander, slowly at first but with greater courage each passing minute. Neither girl rushed. Fully half an hour passed between the first kiss and the first hand to tentatively slip underneath a shirt.

Although never fast, the pace did quicken.

Kissing of mouths was followed by that of throats, then ears. hands and wrists. Buttons were undone, things pulled up and over heads, so kissing could explore ribcages and navels. Later nipples were traced with lips and tongue and teeth. Nor were hands ignored as they too traced and felt and cupped. The sight of each other had always intoxicated. Now they found the smell of hair and skin no less dizzying. Yet they savored. Another half hour passed before pants joined sweaters and bras on the bedroom floor. Still another was nearly gone when the last of their garments was discarded. By then taste was the only sensation not yet fully explored. They did so with enthusiastic and mounting joy. And Tara's tears were of pleasure for a change, while with a searing pride she knew Willow's were the same.

Their afterglow was blinding.

Of course that's when Buffy walked in.

TO BE CONTINUED