TITLE: Never The Twain? (Part 21/31)
AUTHOR: Zahir
FEEDBACK: Well, yeah!
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" and maybe a detail or two from "Weight of the World."
DISCLAIMERS: 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. Honest.

* * *

Life, Willow pondered, was aided a surprising amount by lots and lots of little rituals. They gave people shape, she decided. And some kind of purpose. Not really big, grand purpose, of course. At least not the little rituals. But purpose, all the same. Like dinner.

Willow decided Xander was showing uncommon sense in having everybody sit down at the Summers dinner table and share a meal. It was very civilized. And it reminded everybody to be civilized--something she thought her friends had lost track of lately. She could understand why, sympathize even. But all in all, it was better when they remembered. Dawn looked better seated in her regular chair, between Giles and Buffy. The Slayer herself seemed calmer. Riley next to her helped, she guessed. Willow sat on the other side, with Anya and Xander.

And Tara. Joyce's seat at the head of the table remained empty.

The only thing she wasn't quite sure of was having Anya serve everybody dinner--her own effort. No, Willow thought, she shouldn't complain. Anya's stew wasn't bad, really. Maybe a bit gamey, but better than cafeteria food by any measure. Besides, it felt good to just sit down with everybody and talk.

Not that Xander was letting anybody do anything until they did.

"Buffy," said Willow, "do you still want me to go around raising more dead people?"

"Nope." Buffy smiled a little at Willow's obvious relief. "Guess that wasn't the brightest notion ever."

"Yes, well..." began Giles, but he didn't finish. Just took another bite of stew.

"Still," began Riley, "having a love affair with a vampire." Although critical, his expression was mild. He questioned her. But he didn't condemn.

Willow shrugged. "She saved you life. My life. Buffy's life. Dawn's life. I think she's earned some trust from all of us."

"Trusting her is one thing," said Giles. "Accepting your relationship with a demon is another." He didn't say this with anger, though.

Neither did Tara reply with anger. "Don't you trust Willow?" Which brought on some more silence. At least this time the silence wasn't so much angry as embarrassed. For a full minute or more no one said a thing.

"How come you're all better now?" Dawn asked.

Xander coughed. "I'll tell you later." Anya started to open her mouth, but Xander stopped her with a shake of his head. "Later" he repeated firmly. Dawn furrowed her brow, annoyed at the eternal adult conspiracy to keep her uninformed. Willow remembered it well. Interestingly, she caught her sneaking a peak at Tara--who didn't actually wink back. Not quite, anyway. One more secret ally on our side, thought Willow to herself.

"Can we agree on a truce for now? At least in regards to me?" Tara directed this directly at Buffy, who reluctantly nodded. "Good. Because I need to know--where did you find out how to raise your mother?"

Buffy waited a beat before answering. "What, you're against coming back from the dead?"

"I'm a vampire, not a hypocrite. From what I've read, those magicks tend to get mixed results, but if you're willing to take the risk, fine."

"So what's with the third degree?"

Tara's eyebrows rose slightly. "Somebody knew to dig her up. All of you were together. Who else knew you were going to try?"

Willow enjoyed Buffy's reaction just a little too much. She had the same look Willow had seen on dozens of students in years-worth of classes--usually right after confidently giving an answer that turned out nowhere in the vicinity of correct. Kinda like getting a psychological tennis ball right between the eyes.

"Oh."

* * *

An hour and a half later, Tara was glancing over her personal occult library. "I give up."

"No, don't do that," Willow urged her from the desk on the other side of the subterranean room. "The answer's here. Well, it might be."

Tara shook her head. "Buffy didn't know enough about this Doc person for me to do much more than guess what he is. I saw him visiting Glory, so odds are he isn't human, but that's all."

"Maybe they'll find something at his place." She smiled hopefully. Riley and Buffy had loaded up on weapons before heading to the place where she'd met Doc. Upon learning he'd been hanging around Glory's minions, Buffy had been especially eager. Giles, Xander and Anya were researching over at the Magic Shoppe. The sun would be up fairly soon, so Tara headed here. Willow had insisted on coming with, and despite some odd looks, no one said anything. Nice to know something had been salvaged from the recent disasters.

"If I were him, I'd've already relocated. He's got to realize she'll suspect him."

Willow wilted a little at this line of reasoning. But she didn't argue. Looking at her, Tara found herself drawn to the lovely witch's side. She quietly stroked her cheek, the warmth tingling in Tara's fingers. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't." Her hand came up, pressing Tara's and leaning into it. "I should be looking at the bright side."

"Xander's sane again."

"Yeah..."

"And we know more about Glory now."

"No denying that." The slightest of piercing smiles graced Willow's lips. "Then there's the bestest news so far."

My heart didn't really skip a beat, thought Tara to herself. After all, it doesn't beat. Feels like it did, though. "You mean," she asked, "now April will get Warren back?"

Willow blinked. "She will? How?"

Goddess. "We...found a cure for the madness Glory inflicts. But there wasn't enough for all her victims."

"Really!" Now her eyes were getting big again. And her jaw dropped. The whole picture was too, too adorable. "Can you make more?"

"No. One of the ingredients was...is...really, really rare."

"Oh. Too bad."

"Actually, that's good news."

Her puzzled expression was interrupted by a movement from the corner of the room. Both of them turned and saw the source. Only Tara was not surprised. Padding out from behind a bookcase was a black and tan kitten, nearly eleven weeks old. Huge green eyes framed by big pointed ears and a pink nose took in the scene. Willow's expression was transformed, to Tara's delight. She'd hoped, believed Willow would like this revelation.

"Who's this?" From her voice, Willow's reaction was all Tara could have hoped.

"My kitty." Reaching down, Tara twitched her fingers and the kitten came over to receive the scratch she'd learned to expect. "Not a familiar, you understand. Just a pet." A pet who acquiesced to being picked up and deposited on the desk. Sensing a cat person, she took a step towards Willow and cocked her head. The tiny yelp she made was deliberately plaintive.

Willow began petting her, of course. "Have you named her?"

"Yes. For sentimental reasons."

"What sentimental reasons?" Even entranced as she was by the furry sphere of cuteness, Willow clearly wanted to know more about Tara's past. This fact made Tara want to explain all she could.

"My dad--he wouldn't let me have a kitten growing up. Called them the devil's beasts. But there was a girl at school--a very special friend...."

"A girlfriend?"

"No. But I wouldn't have minded if she had been. I had an awesome crush on her. And she let me play with her cat."

"Soooooo?" By now the kitten was busy, having successfully stalked and captured Willow's hand. Now her forepaws held it firmly while her hindlegs went through the motions of disemboweling her prey. She even gnawed at the young woman's wrist with tiny, pin-like teeth.

"So--I named my kitten after her. My first real crush. Never even got to kiss her."

"But you thought about it?"

"Every day for over a year. Then she moved away. And I cried for a solid week. Dad thought--I never knew what he thought. But my brother stopped picking on me for a couple of months after that."

Slowly, Willow reached out and turned Tara's chin to face her. The two of them looked at each other for a long moment. "What was her name?" Willow whispered.

Tara leaned forward, brushed her lips against those of her love. She spoke in a low voice, so low Willow would not have heard her if she'd been even another inch away.

"Xita," said Tara. "My kitty is named Xita."

"And you never got to kiss her?"

"No."

"Well," breathed Willow, "that's probably just as well." She grinned. "I get jealous."

Tara didn't have anything to say to that. Neither did Willow. For several hours.

* * *

"Xander?"

"Yeah, Wil?"

"Wanna stop staring at my neck?"

From the driver's seat, Xander chuckled. He also had the good grace to look embarrassed. A little, anyway. "C'mon, Wil. Its a time honored tradition--checking out your female friends for hickies after a date."

"I don't have any hickies thank-you-very-much."

"That's not what I heard."

Willow hit him. Not hard, just playful punch in the arm--to which he responded by mock screaming. They continued on for a few minutes before she spoke up again. "Aren't you going to ask?"

"Ask what?

"How could I get involved with Tara? Everybody else keeps asking." She said this as lightly as she could manage.

"Nah, I'm too dazzled with the thought of chick-on-chick action to give it much thought." Which earned him another hit. "Hey!"

"Deserved it."

"Seriously," Xander said after a moment, "my girlfriend used to be demon. Your girlfriend still is one. I figure we've got the makings of one wacky self-help group here. Given this is Sunnydale, we should do a booming business. And besides--are you happy."

"Yes." Willow heard the wistful surprise in her own voice saying it.

"Good enough for me."

At that, Willow felt a grin coming. She let it arrive, and despite everything enjoyed the ride all the way to the Magic Shoppe. Privately, she noted a major shift in her internal clock on the way. Ever since finding out about vampires and the Hellmouth and everything, dusk had been a scary time. No longer. The setting sun now meant Tara could go out without fear of burning. Go out and come to her. Willow's grin broadened. She watched the horizon go red and sky an ever darker blue. Each color so entranced her she didn't even notice when Xander parked.

When she finally did notice, she also noted the look of worried shock on Xander's face. Looking in the direction he was staring soon revealed the reason.

"Oh my god," said Xander.

* * *

"I will never tell you anything! My lips are sealed in the service of my god! You cannot make me talk no matter what you threaten!"

"Shut up!" Tara's general good mood was evaporating as the robed minion of Glory's went babbling on about how silent he was going to be. Not, she reflected, a situation without some irony. But very, very annoying. "You haven't stopped talking since I nabbed you."

For some reason this penetrated the minion's brain. His beady little eyes blinked in his withered, unhuman face. Now he took a quick look around the alleyway. It was, of course, empty. At least for now. Tara wasn't stupid enough to swipe one of these creatures and interrogate it in an alley where people were likely to wander across them.

"Well..." the minion began, "I won't say anything that will impede the mighty Glorificus!"

"Bet?"

"You have no means that could make me say one word that might so much as inconvenience...AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Tara had ripped half of one overlong, pointed ear from his head and tossed it to the ground. "I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING!"

"About time," Tara mumbled under her breath. Before she could say anything else, though, a familiar sound echoed slightly behind her. A not unpleasant sound in and of itself, but one that could hardly mean anything good in current circumstances. Especially since the sound was followed two more identical to it--the sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath.

No time to waste. Using all her vampiric strength, Tara spun and tossed the minion towards whoever-it-was behind her. Three tall, muscular men in chain mail stood there. The nearest wasted no time but gutted the minion in midair.

"Just when he was bout to say something useful."

"His death does not matter, Creature of Evil" said the Knight in the lead. He was the shortest of them, with a neatly trimmed beard. The other two were white, while he was black. "None of the Beast's minions shall be given succor."

"And you couldn't wait five minutes to see if he knew anything handy first?"

"Plots among the Beast's minions for her favor are no concern to us." All three of the Knights began to advance.

"Who're you calling a minion?" Tara drew her own sword. "I was trying to interfere with Glory's plans. Not that you're likely to care." Each continued to advance, forming a circle. "Thought not. I could guess from your choice of weaponry the idea of actually thinking before attacking is too advanced for you to manage."

"Think not to deceive us, Demon."

"Perish the thought," replied Tara. Self-righteous idiots. For a moment she felt a wave of deja vu and remembered her family. Well, at least no one could complain if she fed once these three were disposed of. Looking at how expertly they were handling their swords, she amended her thoughts to "if."

Just before any of them could strike the first blow, the middle Knight suddenly collapsed as if struck from behind. Which, it turned out, he had been. The striker stood--or rather posed--for all to see. She almost negligently picked up the fallen Knight's sword. Hefting it, she tested its weight and balance.

"Wicked," noted Faith. "I think I'll keep it."

TO BE CONTINUED