TITLE: Never The Twain? (Part 23/31)
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.

* * *

Willow paced. It wasn't something she usually did, but she'd found a hidden talent at it now. And so she paced.

She also listened. Riley was speaking. "Okay, I gave her a transfusion of blood."

"Thanks, everyone," said Willow. A small chorus of 'you're welcomes' echoed her words.

"Fortunately, my basic first aid training was sufficient. I couldn't really kill her with an air bubble or anything, Tara being a vampire and all. Plus that eliminated the need to do any type-matching." Riley took a deep breath. "I'm kinda amazed at her condition, though. What could have done that to her?"

"I think we already know the answer to that question," ventured Wesley.

Buffy nodded. "Glory. Had to be." Which made sense. Anyone who could wipe the floor with a Slayer would have no trouble pounding a relatively young vampire into a pulp. The image made Willow's stomach ache.

"Yeah, but why?" asked Riley.

"Willow said she was going to try and gain information from some of Glory's minions." Giles looked at Willow. So did everybody else. Willow nodded.

"Uh-huh," added Gunn, "then why'd she not kill the girl while she was at it?"

"Sending us a message, I fear," replied Giles.

"You are helpless," agreed Buffy. "Give me what I want. Or else."

"Exactly," said Giles.

"Not to go all obvious or nothing," asked Gunn, "but what does this hellgod want?"

* * *

Tara opened her bruised eyes and saw Dawn. She was out of focus. But definitely Dawn.

"Hi," she managed to croak.

Dawn inched a little closer to the prone vampire. She was clearer now--her young face slack with worry and guilt. Her eyes red from tears.

"Are you alright?" she whispered to Tara.

"Not...really," Tara answered. "But...I will be." She looked at Dawn, who clearly wanted to tear her gaze away from Tara's but couldn't bring herself to. Oh dear. Didn't know it was that bad. "Probably looks worse than it feels."

"Then you must feel unbelievably awful."

"Well...yeah." Tara smiled. It hurt. "But remember? I'm immortal. Give me time and I'll be dancing." Dawn didn't actually smile in response, but she did seem to relax a little. Good.

"Can you remember who did this to you?"

"Yep."

"And...?"

"Glory."

"I knew it." The bitterness in her voice was tangible. By an effort of will, Tara made her eye stay open and focus on Dawn. "Because of me. She did this to you to find out about me, didn't she?"

No point in lying. "Yeah." Dawn turned away. The shudder in her frame was very, very slight. But Tara caught it. Just as she knew what kind of savagely stifled sobs caused it. "Not your fault, you know."

"Yes it is," Dawn both whispered and wailed.

"Bull!" Something in the delivery made Dawn turn back to Tara. "What, didn't you hear me?"

"You got hurt for my sake."

"Hey--word to the wise." Tara wet her lips. "No, from the wise. Right now you're being silly. If somebody kidnapped you to get at your sister--would you blame Buffy?"

Dawn was smart enough not to fall into that kind of verbal trap, of course. "No. I guess not." Unless she wanted to, of course. Evidently she did.

"So don't blame yourself."

"But if people get hurt because of me..."

"Dawn. I know exactly whose fists did this." She made a gesture towards the bruises she was sure decorated her face. "And it wasn't you. So...stop it with the delusions of grandeur, okay? You didn't hurt me. Not to be crude--you can't. Okay?"

The teenager didn't say anything. Hopefully, that meant she couldn't find any way to argue.

Buffy and Willow stepped inside the workout room. The concern in the latter's eyes, and how she rushed to Tara's side on the stacked floormats, stirred weird thoughts of gratitude for the beating if she got this response. Very, very weird thoughts. Still, it was pleasant to feel the redhead's hand in hers.

"Honey," breathed Willow, "how do you feel? Are you better?"

"Not really," answered Dawn for her, "but she will be."

Tara smiled at little at this. Gently, she squeezed Willow's hand. "Smart kid."

"Dawn," said Buffy, "go into the next room."

"But Tara and I were having a good talk..." began Dawn.

"True enough," offered the vampire.

"Now," insisted Buffy. Dawn did so with only a little pouting. Buffy didn't say anything more until the door closed behind her sister. "What happened?" She knelt beside Tara.

"Knights of Byzantium interrupted me. I was questioning a minion. Then Faith interrupted them."

"Faith! Did she do this?"

Tara shook her head, which made her a little dizzy. "She and I were interrupted again."

"By Glory?"

"Yes. She beat us both. Didn't even work up a sweat. Faith ended up wrapped in chains and carted off. Me, she let go with a message."

Buffy's face had never looked more frightened, at least not to Tara. The fact her features weren't moving was worrying enough. That she wasn't blinking was, frankly, worse. "What shape was Faith in?"

"Not too bad. Knocked out. So was I, for that matter. Glory woke me up to finish...well, this."

"Punctuating her message."

"I think so, yeah."

Buffy took a deep breath before her next question. And another. This was so not going to be pretty. "What's the message?"

"Pretty much what you expect. Give her the key or else."

"Details. They could be important."

"You sure?"

"No. Give'em anyway."

"Glory said: You can't take her. None of us can. She knows the key is someone you know. If you don't hand it over, Glory will go to everyone you know and make what she did to me look like a pedicure. Right now, she's got Faith. Tomorrow, Faith gets her heart ripped out."

Silence. And again, not a flicker of an expression on Buffy's face. Fury, even weeping, would be better somehow. But...nothing. Instead, Buffy just stood up. "Thanks," she said. Then she headed out the door.

Willow watched her go, then turned all her attention to Tara. Gently, she pressed her lips against Tara's own. "What do you need?" she whispered.

"Time, mostly."

"And blood?"

"Riley gave me a transfusion..."

"I know. And I know you still need to heal. We need you." Her eyes seemed to shine. No, not really. There were tears there, ready to flow. "I need you." Deliberately, Willow undid the first few buttons to her blouse. She pulled back the collar, revealing the mostly-healed scar there.

"Not now..." Tara was tempted, achingly so. But here?

"Yes," was Willow's answer. "Because more than you need blood, I need something." A beat. Her voice sank lower, but fiercer. "I need to know it is me who helps you heal. To feel my strength go into you. I need this, Tara. My love." Willow cupped the back of Tara's head with one hand, bringing her throat to Tara's mouth. Unplanned, Tara felt her face alter, brow becoming furrowed, teeth stretching into fangs.

Please. Did Willow actually say this? Or did she think it?

"Please," said someone. Willow? Tara? Did it really matter?

Fangs pierced. Blood flowed. Tara placed her mouth over a wound as small as she could manage, then began to suckle like a child. Willow moaned, holding her tight.

* * *

INTERLUDE

"Your Magnificence?"

"Hey! I don't like interruptions!"

"A thousand thousand pardons, Most Worshipful One."

"Never mind. This one's a little too fragile, anyway. And what good is she if she's broken?"

"Wisdom incarnate, Vast Excellency."

"Vast? Whadda'ya'mean vast? Are. You. Saying. Something. About. My. HIPS?"

"Hips such as yours deserve nothing save praise, O Reason For My Every Breath. By 'vast' I referred only to your excellence, which eclipses all others that ever have been or ever might be. This unworthy servant begs forgiveness."

"Okay. Yo! Minions! Take this down and let it rest. Guess I'll have to wait till it heals before asking anything else, the rude bitch. What is it you wanted again?"

"I bring news, Your Sublime Awesomeness."

"Spit it out."

"The Summers woman certainly knew the location of the Key. Her memories are returning, and at a good rate. Within one day, no later, I should be able to identify the Key."

"About bloody time!"

"One detail, Most Delightful To Behold, has emerged. The Key is in human form."

"Doc! Doc, you withered little wizard you! If I gave Christmas bonuses you just earned yours!"

"Praise from you is better than life, Supreme Wondrousness."

"Up till now, the Key could've been anything! A cup, a shovel, the shoebox some kid keeps his baseball cars in! Now we can narrow it down!"

"The name, as I promised Your Splendidness, shall be revealed soon as well."

"Whatever, go ahead. Don't think I'll wait all that long, though."

"I don't...please enlighten your unworthy servant, Most Supremely Awe-worthy?"

"Gonna do some checking on my own. That doesn't let you off the hook."

"Of course not, Highest of the Most High."

"Scoot! Back to the zombie!"

"Without delay, She-Who-Makes-All-Tremble."

END OF INTERLUDE

* * *

When Willow came back into the main shop, she noted Anya had arrived. Xander's girlfriend sat beside him, clutching his arm in relieved and possessive style. They were part of what could be called a council of war. Right now, Wesley was speaking. Or maybe droning was a better word. No one seemed to like what he was saying.

"True, we don't know precisely what Glory's ultimate intentions are, yet presuming them to be anything other than malevolent in the extreme would be the depth of folly."

Xander raised his hand. "Wouldn't that be the height of folly?"

"That's what I usually hear," offered Willow, sitting down.

"My preference in metaphors is hardly the issue," said Wesley in an icy tone.

"Quite right," said Giles. Nearly everyone looked at him in surprise. After all, the two Watchers didn't exactly get along. "We need to face the consequences of our actions. The fact is, we dabbled in extremely dark magicks and as a result Dawn is in far greater danger than she was before. Faith is missing. Tara has been badly wounded. And Joyce," he faltered for a moment. Then he looked directly in at Buffy and Dawn. "And Joyce is almost certainly resurrected, but in the clutches of Glory. I shudder to think of the implications."

No one said anything after that. Although each managed to etch their own version of misery into their faces. Poor Dawn looked cried out, while Buffy had that utter stillness that meant she was trying not to feel anything. Riley was watching her, of course, but sensed she didn't want any contact. Xander was frowning, he and Anya clearly taking some comfort in each other. Giles looked devastated, at least to Willow's eyes. Gunn and Wesley seemed about as uncomfortable as humanly possible without bleeding.

"I..." Wesley began. Then coughed. Clearly, he didn't need to. "I take it we are all agreed on our objectives?"

Buffy nodded. "Get back Faith and Mom."

"What about Dawn?" asked Wesley pointedly.

"Protecting her is a given."

"Good. I agree. However, those are no less than three goals. Am I right in believing that the protection of Dawn has first priority?"

"No!" said Dawn. "Mom comes first!"

Giles spoke before Buffy could open her mouth. "Dawn," he said, "that isn't the decision your mother would have made. And besides, we don't know what...condition...your mother is in at the moment. Whether she even is your mother." H went on inexorably, despite the near-total lack of color in the girl's face. She was listening. In horror. "The ultimate test of such is this--what would your mother want?"

"You don't know," Dawn said, a little desperately.

"Perhaps. But you do." Giles spoke quietly. Intensely. "The only question is whether you'll admit it."

At this, Buffy slowly stood up. She made her way over to a knapsack she'd dropped earlier. It was in the corner, next to Anya's purse as well as Dawn's backpack and Willow's own canvas bag full of homework. Buffy took something out of the bag. An envelope. One that Willow recognized, so she wasn't surprised in one way when Buffy took out the photograph of her mother. In another way Willow was shocked.

"No, Buffy," she said.

"There's no other way." Buffy wasn't looking at anything really.

"Maybe," said a voice from the back of the store, "but you shouldn't have to do it." Tara, still limping and bruised but much better than she had been, took a few steps into the room. "You know where Glory is now. Go. All of you. Rescue Faith while you still can. I can hide Dawn. Willow knows where."

"What about Mrs. Summers?" asked Gunn.

"Maybe you can rescue her, too." Tara shrugged. And winced. "But if you can't..." She reached over and took the photo from Buffy's hands.

TO BE CONTINUED