TITLE: Never The Twain? (Part 18/31)
AUTHOR: Zahir
FEEDBACK: Please.  Pretty please.  With sugar on top.  And a cherry.
ARCHIVING: Just ask is all.
SYNOPSIS: This is an alternate history in which Willow never completed the Soul Restoration Spell. Of all the changes that flow
 from that one, the biggest is that Tara is a vampire.  Oh, and Faith never worked for the Mayor.
COUPLES: W/T, X/Ay, B/R
RATING:  PG-13
SPOILERS: Up through and including "Forever" as well as some stuff from "Angel."
DISCLAIMERS: Most of the toys I'm playing with belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I promise not to make money off 
them and to put them back none the worse for wear.  My hope is that they won't sue me.  Besides, I don't own much.
NOTE:  The part of Jocelyn in my own mind is played by Gigi Edgely.  For those of you who don't know, she portrays Chiana on the TV show "Farscape."

* * *

Willow and Anya watched and listened.  It occurred to Willow this was a very odd situations--having a vampire explain things to a robot.  But then, this was Sunnydale.

"You are saying that Warren has been hurt by demons?"  April had stopped smiling.  For the first time in days.  Possibly ever.

"Exactly."

"Define hurt, please."

"Warren has been driven insane.  He doesn't recognize anything around him.  The fact is, he's in worse shape that Xander. 
 Anya's boyfriend?"

The robot blinked.  "Warren is like Xander?"

"He's worse."

April rose instantly.  "I must protect him."

"No!"

"Yes--that is what I must do!"

"What you need to do," interrupted Tara, "is help us cure him.  That way, he won't be in any danger any more.  And he'll know who you are."

Even though she was sure it was her imagination, Willow swore she could hear circuits blowing out inside April's head.  In fact, she was sure the robot simply remained still while processing this.  Yet the pause had the same effect.  Evidently, this wasn't a scenario Warren had installed in her behavior parameters.  Not surprisingly.

"I think you are correct," said April.  "I must help cure Warren.  Do you know a way I can help cure Warren?"

"We think so," said Tara.  "But it will be difficult.  And unpleasant."

"Warren loves me," was the robot's answer.  "And I love Warren.  I must do whatever I must."

Tara nodded.  She glanced at Willow, who smiled back.  Now came the ugly part.  The only cure they were sure of for both Xander and Warren was to feed them the heart of a Moon Demon.  Part of her was glad to have discovered that Jocelyn, the halfbreed she'd brought from Los Angeles, was one.  In fact, it made a kind of sense.  The Caritas Host had said she had to bring Jocelyn--or Joculatrix--back to Sunnydale.   At the time she'd wondered why.  Now, it made a kind of sense.  But it made an icky, terrible sense.  She knew this demon, had enjoyed her company.  Plus, her attitude towards demons had undergone a radical change after falling in love with Tara.

Now it was Tara who reached out to touch Willow's hand.  "Its not just for Xander and Warren," she reminded Willow.  "Jocelyn knows about the Key.  And she wanted to talk to Glory."

"I know."

"Personally," piped in Anya, "I have no trouble with doing this."

"Doing what?  What do I have to do?"  inquired April.  Before anyone could answer the phone rang.  Anya immediately sprang across the room, reaching it before the second ring had finished.

"Hello" she said.  "Yes, Willow's here."  She looked at the others and mouthed the name Giles.  Then the expression on her face froze.  In shock?  Fear?  Both?  Anya's jaw moved, as if she was trying to find something to say but could think of nothing.  What had happened?  For a terrible moment Willow feared something had happened to Dawn.  Then Anya pinned Willow with her eyes, holding the phone out to her.  Clearly, whatever the news she'd heard had struck her dumb.

Refusing to let go of Tara's hand, Willow crossed the room and took the phone in hand.

"Hello?"

"Willow?"  Giles sounded exhausted.

"Yeah.  Giles, what's happened?"

"I'm sorry to have to tell you, but...its Joyce."  The silence stretched long enough for Willow to know what was coming next.  "She's dead.  Buffy found her."

A sound made Willow turn around.  There was Anya, seated on the sofa, and emitting another nearly-inaudible sob.

"What is wrong?" asked April.

And Willow discovered she had no words.

* * *

Later.

After the tears and the silences and Anya babbling about how life didn't make sense.  Sensing her distress Xander had become hysterical, until Tara managed to get him to swallow some medication.  In the end, she'd gotten Anya to take a sleeping pill.

Then came the funeral, which Tara heard about second hand.  Buffy had gone strongly silent.  Riley wouldn't leave her side.  Giles was drinking.  And Dawn, poor Dawn.  Coming apart one moment, the next withdrawn to untouchability.  She, at least, was snapping back to something like normal.  Unless that was a symptom of something worse.

Willow still found herself weeping at odd moments.  That's when Tara felt her unbeating heart, as it seemed torn out of her chest.  Having lost her own mother, Tara recalled too well how it hurt.  Joyce Summers had clearly been something of a mother to all the Scoobies.  Including Willow.

Somewhere in this neighborhood, muttered Tara to herself like a mantra.  This was the area of Sunnydale where Buffy killed the snake creature.  And here was where Jocelyn met Ben.  Glory's home must be somewhere here.  Buffy had described Glory's minions as "hobbits with leprosy," according to Willow.  So Tara scanned carefully for hobbits.

Or Ben the friendly intern.  Tara was prepared to search all night, even well into the day if need be (thanks to the Ring of Amara).  Unfortunately, the plan to take out Jocelyn had to take a back seat right now.  Once they were sure Glory hadn't heard about Dawn being the Key, then they could act.  Not until.  So here she was, scouting this part of Sunnydale for the third time in as many days since Buffy and Dawn's mother died.

Nothing.  So far.

But...wait.  What was that?  A hooded figure, short, scurrying in the shadows towards a rather nice condominium.  Only because she was a vampire could Tara see his face.  Like an elf molded from meat going bad.  Or a hobbit.  He was leading someone--a little man with short white hair.  More than anything else he reminded Tara of a friendly grandfather.  She hadn't had one of those, as it happened, but the archetype was pretty much universal.  The slight crinkle of lips, coupled with an abstracted glance around his surroundings, plus the shuffle of his steps.  Oh yes, the image was perfect.  And Tara would bet image was all this was.

They entered the condo.  And Tara settled in to wait.  She couldn't take Glory by herself, so she'd have to focus on getting information.  After an hour or so, she noticed someone else searching the same area.  Three men, scanning the area with a military precision.  More, she noticed an interesting detail.

All three had a distinctive, identical tattoos on their faces.

* * *

Willow thought maybe her head was going to explode.  It was too much.  Having to deal with Joyce's death was horrible, but carrying on a secret love affair her friends were all (or almost all, remembering Anya) convinced was akin to heroin addiction fairly shredded her nerves.  Plus having to protect the Key.  And being one of the few to realize Jocelyn was driving everyone around her mad.

Still, Willow managed not to show it as she arrived (with Riley as over-protective escort) to the Magic Shoppe for the meeting.  The reason for this meeting remained a secret, so she had a sinking feeling the reason involved her.

Inside, a large assortment of weapons was laid out on the table.  Axes, swords, a mace.  Buffy, Dawn and Giles all wore simple, rugged clothes.  They also pretty much radiated purpose.  Giles had been pacing.  Seconds after Willow entered, she was pinned by Buffy's stare.

"Willow."

"Uh, hi Buffy.  How're you doing?"

"Better.  And I'll be better yet."  The smile that went with those words did anything but reassure.  Visions of medical experiments came to Willow looking at that smile.  Dawn, seated, looked up at her sister adoringly.  This.  Was.  Bad.  "Wil," said Buffy as she neared her best friend, "I've been doing some research."

"Oh, that's good.  Isn't it?"  Her voice almost didn't tremble.

"Have you ever heard of a Ghora?"

"Ghora?  I think...that's some kind of demon, isn't it?"  Seemed like a safe bet.

At that moment, Giles gave Willow a hearty slap on the back.  "Good girl!"

"We know where to find one," added Riley conspiratorially.

"Do we want to find one?"

"Yes!" said Buffy.

"Absolutely!" added Dawn.

"It is the only way" said Giles, nodding.

Buffy began picking up the weapons and passing them out.  She handed a battleaxe to Willow, who looked at it with more than a little worry.  Whatever her insane friends had planned, it certainly looked unpleasant.

"You see," said Giles, testing the heft of a broadsword, "the egg of a Ghora is the essential ingredient in the resurrection spell."

"Resurrection spell?"

"Exactly!"  Giles seemed absurdly pleased at Willow's repeating his words.  He even grinned.

"We're bringing back Mom!" yelled Dawn.

Buffy smiled at her sister, the both of them aglow.  "That's right, Dawn," she said encouragingly, "we're bringing her back."

"That's...I mean...isn't that a really, really tricky kind of spell to be trying, Buffy?  I mean, think of all the things that could go wrong!"

"I am thinking of that Wil.  That's why we need you to actually do the spell itself."

"M-M-M-M-EEEE?"

"Of course!  You're the only one around here with that kind of experience."

"B-b-b-ut, what about Anya?"

"She needs to take care of Xander."

Willow looked at the four sets of eyes, each aimed at her full of confident hope, and wanted very much to run away.  Fast.  Or, maybe turn invisible.

"I don't know if I can," she offered, hopefully.

"The spell itself," offered Giles, "is surprisingly simple.  All that's truly, truly difficult is getting the ingredients.  Hence," he indicated his broadsword.  "Oh!  It might interest you to know that the Ghora demon may be the basis for legends of Cerberus, the three headed hound said to guard the underworld."

"So this Ghora, its kinda like a great big dog?"

"No.  It has three heads!"

TO BE CONTINUED