Author’s Note: Big thanks to Kar for the quick turnaround and a really great suggestion. Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing.

In our fourth installment Tara and Buffy chat and Buffy patrols.


Chapter Four

The shop was closed, but she still had inventory to do and compounds to make. Buffy stayed after the training session for a long restorative yoga session, and Tara hadn’t minded her hanging around. The basement was quiet, the customers didn’t notice, but when she’d shut her doors the slayer had come upstairs and gotten chatty. Tara rubbed her temples and gave up on trying to get a read on Buffy. It was better just to listen to her instead of trying to sort out her aura.

“…and I have to admit, there’s a part of me that feels sorry for Giles, too. I mean, he had to give up his son. What he did was bad, but still, that’s a big.”

Tara licked her lips and sighed. “I think he saw it as a guilt offering, or some sort of fair trade maybe. Everybody was a mess in those days.” She tried very hard not to remember some of the things she’d done in the year after Willow left. Poor Amanda. Maybe the reason she’d lasted so long was that she’d had to learn to do it nearly all on her own that first year, with just Spike to help her. “We all did things we weren’t proud of.”

“Why didn’t Anya just leave?” Buffy asked. She was scratching her arm. In fact, Tara realized, she’d been scratching her arm for a while. The skin was getting red and raw. “Running around on Xander for years? That’s not some moment of weakness. And Giles?”

“Buffy, do you need something for your arm?” Tara asked, grateful for a chance to change the topic.

“Oh.” Buffy seemed to just notice that she was scraping her skin off. “I guess my sleeve was bothering me.” She stuck out her bottom lip. “I thought it would wear off, but sometimes it still gets pretty overwhelming just feeling stuff.”

“You know, when babies are born their vision is all blurry and they can’t really see colors yet. And over time they like ramp up to full vision so that they don’t get overwhelmed with sensory data before their brains can take it. But you, you went from zero to full sensory input, so it makes sense that you’d be a little rattled.”

“That makes sense, I guess. I just wish it would stop.”

Tara nodded. “I can make you something, like what I gave you before, only without the drowsiness.”

“Yeah. But I need to be able to feel some stuff. A slayer needs her hearing, you know. I’ve just got to learn how to deal with it.”

“Maybe just something for night time then, when you’re trying to sleep,” Tara suggested, getting up to collect ingredients. She could tell from the dark circles that Buffy wasn’t sleeping well.

“Thanks.” She shifted in her seat. “Xander told me about Willow. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. I just try not to think about it. She hasn’t been back in Sunnydale for a long time, at least not that I know of.”

“I guess she can just teleport where ever.” Buffy made a face. “Does she have a particular, you know, specialty?”

Tara rolled her eyes. “Just your run of the mill ‘justice’ demon.” The last thing she wanted to do was discuss Willow’s ridiculous environmental terrorism in the name of Mother Earth garbage. She handed Buffy the vial she’d mixed up. “Don’t take this on an empty stomach.”

The slayer patted her still concave belly. She was starting to put on some weight, beginning to look less cadaverous. “If Spike has his way,” Buffy informed her archly, “my stomach will never be empty again.”


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Tashi watched the other slayer devour another rack of ribs and rubbed her sore elbow. Apparently Spike was worried that Buffy wasn't up for patrol, or at least that was the excuse he gave for the daily sparring matches that looked more like some sort of weird, erotic ritual. After a week the older slayer was declared fit for duty and joined them on patrol.

The woman was insane. It was like she got high on slaying or something. She didn't just run up, punch them, and stab them. She was like Spike, treating it like a dance, getting in to it. It was so different than everything the Watchers had taught her. Spike was a vampire, so, whatever. Seeing a slayer be like that though was weird.

"My god, these are good," she moaned, licking sauce off her fingers with embarrassing enthusiasm.

Spike watched Buffy suck on her thumb like it was something way more interesting. He draped his arm over the back of the seat so that his sleeve brushed against Buffy's hair. Tashi was starting to feel a little queasy watching them. "I guess we need some more wet wipes?" she suggested, hoping Spike would get it.

"Be right back," he agreed, sliding out of the booth. "You want another beer, love?"

Buffy shook her head. "I'm good." When the vampire was gone, she turned her bright eyes to Tashi. "Sorry. I'm probably being gross. There's nothing to taste in heaven though." She cleared her throat. "You were Council trained? What do they think of you working with Spike?"

Tashi dropped her eyes. "It was a big deal. I don't know how much they told you, but the last bunch of slayers before me, they didn't send them here. Even with the soul and all, they didn't really trust Spike after what happened with Lieuko, but I really don't think that was his fault. Drusill--"

"Soul? Did you just say that Spike has his soul?" Buffy blinked at her, ribs forgotten, a little smear of sauce on her chin.

Tashi heard her teacher's footsteps and his sigh. "Christ. You told her about the soul."

Buffy turned her astonished gaze to Spike. "When? Why?"

Spike shook his head and mopped the sauce off her face with a napkin. "Lots of things changed since you departed, pet. But to answer your question, about ten years gone. The why is rather personal. Sweet of you to assume it wasn't a curse though."

"Who was she?" Buffy asked knowingly.

Tashi sat back in the booth. She was dying to hear the answer herself. Spike rarely talked about his past, other than his mad, bad, dangerous days. The history of the slayer line had come to her through Connie and Tara, but if Spike had been gaga for any of them, Tashi didn't know about it.

Spike drank half his beer and addressed his answer to the glass. "I named her Anne. Wanted to do right by her, be a man for her."

Tashi watched Buffy's hand slide over Spike's. "You had a daughter?"

”In a manner of speaking.” Spike kept his eyes on the glass. "She took sick when she was three," he added, and that was all he said. Which was enough. If Tashi got really brave later, she might ask Tara more about it.

Buffy obviously got it too, because she sat silently stroking Spike's hand until the waiter brought the check. "Come on," Buffy whispered, "I'll walk you home."

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