There You Are by DarkWiccan

"And what are you three ladies doing out so late?" Buffy asked as she strode up to the threesome as they walked down the street toward home.

"Guess we lost track of time," said Willow, "I'm glad we bumped into you. Nothing like a slayer-sized escort for the walk home."

"I'm glad I caught you guys, too," answered Buffy, "I just left Giles with Xander and Anya over at their place. Kind of nursing a case of lonelies."

"I'll keep you company, Godmommy," Emily spoke up from her place between her parents.

"I know you will, munchkin," Buffy smiled. If it was the daytime, the slayer would have moved to lift the small girl onto her back, but as it was night, it was necessary that she keep her self ready at all times for any possible danger and she didn't want Emily to be tossed or thrown from her.

"No trouble at all," Tara assured, "Buffy, you are always welcome in our home. You know that."

They walked on in silence for a few moments listening to the soft electric buzz of the street lamps, the quiet thudding of their sneakers on the pavement and the occasional chirping of a cricket here and there. Crickets were rare in Sunnydale. They tended to shy away from the small town, the ever-present negativity of the Hellmouth and it's otherworldly occupants keeping their presence at bay. An increase of cricket numbers was usually indicative of a slowing of evil activity, their cheerful miniature moonlight sonatas always a welcome sound.

"So," Willow said, disrupting the quiet as they approached the small walkway to their home, "Was Giles able to find anything out from those texts that he had mentioned?"

"Um, yeah," Buffy confirmed as they all entered the small house, shrugging off jackets and setting them aside on the hall table.

"Emily, go on and start washing up, it's almost your bedtime," Tara instructed. Emily at first looked as thought she might protest, but quickly relented and headed toward her room.

"I'm good, thanks, Baby," Willow replied, smiling up at her lover. She turned back to Buffy, "What did he say?"

"Basically that everything he had been able to find simply proved what the priestess lady said," the slayer explained. "Oh, and he was able to find some stuff on said priestess too."

"What kind of 'stuff'?" Tara asked, returning from the kitchen and handing Buffy a tall glass of water.

"Thanks," Buffy said, taking a small sip before continuing, "Well, he said that the history on her is pretty vague, but it does date back to before the switch over from B.C. to A.D. Or, B.C.E or whatever you want to call it. In short, she's really old."

"That's all that he found out?" Willow questioned incredulously, "That she's old."

"Well, he found a few references to her mentioning that she once helped lead an army of twenty Elvin warriors against a field of Roman troops trying to conquer a small village in Wales… She won." The slayer recounted, obviously impressed.

"Wait, Elves?" Willow questioned, "Warrior Elves? Like, Santa's little helpers with swords?"

"But, aren't Elves actually the size of an average human, only thinner?" Tara asked. "I mean the smallness thing is just a misconception."

"Giles mentioned that he may have found an ancient poem telling of how she got her immortality," the slayer stated. "But he's not sure."

"Well, you know," the redhead replied, blushing a little at her wife's curious gaze, "We need to talk to her about Emily and… the other thing."

"She's already going to be around because of Emily," Willow illuminated, "I'm not sure that I want to bring anymore people in on this, let alone anyone we don't know at all."

"If you're sure," her wife stated again. Willow nodded, she was nervous but certain.

"Okay, time-out!" Buffy shouted, and then quickly lowered her voice, embarrassed by her outburst. "I am suddenly feeling very much like a square peg trying to fit in a round hole. What are you guys talking about?"

"Sorry, Buffy," Tara apologized, "It's just that… we found out today that Ghaena is quite an accomplished midwife."

"Oh," Buffy said, slightly confused, before realizing, "Ooooh. Right. You aren't using Dr. Gulliver?"

"Renee was getting a little too pushy with the curiosity," Willow explained. "Made for an uncomfortable… thing."

"Mama, can I tuck Godmommy in?" Emily requested plaintively as she entered the living room wearing the little yummy sushi pajamas that Buffy had gotten for her.

"I would love that," Buffy beamed, "Go pick out a book, I'll be in in a minute."

All three women chuckled at the young girl's enthusiasm. Buffy turned her attention back to the couple. "Have you told her yet?"

"No," Willow answered, "We thought we'd wait until I…" The redhead used both her hands to make a repetitive rounding motion in front of her stomach.

"I know," Buffy soothed, recognizing her best friend's continuing anxiety, although she did note her to be calmer than the couple of days previous. "That's probably the best idea, "she continued, "Are you going to tell your mom."

"Mom". Willow said it as though she had just been reminded that the SAT's were the next day and she hadn't studied. "I totally forgot." To tell the truth, it wasn't such a horrible thing that the redhead had overlooked breaking the news to her mother. Sheila Rosenberg had only just recently taken an active interest in her daughter's family and life, ever since she had retired from the lecture circuit a couple of years before. But despite the uproar that Willow's coming out had caused so long ago, Sheila had since proven that she had grown quite fond of Tara and particularly enjoyed doting on her grandchild even if she still maintained a strangely civil and distant demeanor toward her own daughter. Sheila Rosenberg was an enigma, and her extended family had learned to accept that. Better one grandparent than none at all.

"We can stop by on Thursday and then go to Ghaena's after," Tara suggested. Willow shook her head in agreement.

"I'm going to go get tucked in," Buffy announced, rising from the couch, "I'll see you guys in the morning?"

"Sure," Willow smiled. "Pillows and sheets are in the usual place. Let us know if you need anything."

Thursday arrived all too quickly for the redhead. She had woken up cranky, feeling nauseous and bloated and she was not looking forward to the day ahead. Seeking some sort of comfort, she sought out her favorite pair of jeans and spent a good fifteen minutes trying to fasten the top two buttons of the fly before collapsing backward on the bed in defeat. She let out a long aggravated sigh before calling out, "Tara!"

The blonde came in from the kitchen wiping her hands dry with a dishtowel. "What is it, Darling?" she asked sweetly.

Willow took a moment to collect herself. "Can I borrow a pair of your pants, please?" She said through clenched teeth.

Realizing her wife's predicament, Tara had to try really hard not to giggle. "Why don't you just wear one of your floral print skirts?"

"Because I don't want to wear a skirt," the hacker bitterly explained, "I want to wear pants. Can I borrow a pair?"

"Sure, you don't have to ask," the wiccan answered, moving to the dresser and opening a drawer, "what pair?"

Tara pulled out a pair of cargo pants, and a belt, and handed them to her wife. "You're still going to need a belt, here." She offered.

"I sure don't feel like it," Willow grumbled, clutching the garments to her chest.

"Sweetie," Tara began, sitting on the bed next to Willow, "you're just feeling bloated. Your tummy is barely starting to…pooch out. And when it comes to waist size, I've still got you beat. You need the belt."

"I do too," Tara replied, "I like them because you do. Which reminds me. We need to talk to Ghaena about that."

"Will, I've got child-bearing hips" Tara explained, "You… not so much. We may want to ask Ghaena if this might… cause a problem."

"Good, we're agreed. Now, get my pants on and come eat your breakfast. I called your mom and told her we'd be stopping by in an hour." With that, Tara kissed Willow soundly on the mouth, seeking entrance with her tongue and deepening the kiss with passion. Finally she broke away and walked over to the doorway, giving her hips a good shake for her breathless lover's appreciative eyes.

"Willow, Tara, come in," Sheila greeted the two women warmly into her home. It was the same as it had been when Willow had been growing up in it. Still very functional and utilitarian. "Can I get you girls anything?" the older woman offered, leading them into the dining room to sit. "I was just making some coffee. Or would you prefer tea?"

"Coffee sounds…" Willow began, only to catch a glare from Tara, "Like tea. I mean, yes I would prefer tea. Tara?"

"Tea's fine," the blonde agreed. Sheila went into the kitchen to fetch the hot water and tea bags. "Willow," Tara scolded.

"I know," Willow sighed, "No caffeine for seven more months… I still can't believe you talked me into that."

"Here we are," announced Mrs. Rosenberg as she returned with two cups of piping hot tea. "Lemon alright?"

"No bother," Sheila replied, waving off their gratitude. "What's going on? Why the formality of an arranged meeting?"

"We just wanted you to know, Mom, that you're going to be a grandmother again," Willow bravely stated.

"Really?" Sheila beamed at the news, "Tara, that's wonderful, when are you due?"

The blonde shared a quick glance with her lover. "September," she answered, "Only it's not me."

"It's not?" Willow's mother asked, slightly confused before the slow realization dawned on her. She looked at her daughter, her brow furrowing. "Willow?"

"Are you sure that's wise. Given… uh… certain information?" Sheila eyed her daughter-in-law warily.

"It's okay, Sheila," Tara interjected, "Willow told me about… her being adopted."

"Oh." The older woman was clearly not pleased. "Then you know about the… circumstances… of Willow's birth."

"Yes. It is an unfortunate tragedy that her birth mother died, but it does not necessarily mean that Willow is in any kind of danger," Tara stated. "We are taking precautions. We're even meeting with a midwife after we leave here to start discussing prenatal care."

"A midwife." Sheila repeated, her tone filling with detached concern. "Not a doctor?"

"Mrs. Rosenberg," Tara cut in, "Let me assure you that the midwife Willow and I have selected has more cumulative years of knowledge and experience in child-birthing than all of the doctors in Sunnydale combined… and multiplied."

"Interesting," Sheila commented. "Well, if you have the confidence that this woman can handle any potential difficulties that may arise, I suppose that's all that matters."

"Of course you will," the elder Rosenberg said, her voice surprisingly sincere. She paused a moment, taking a sip of her coffee, seeming to be considering something in her mind. "I wonder… would it be alright if I was present at the birth?"

"Well not necessarily. But perhaps in the waiting room," Sheila continued, her expression almost somber. "I've missed… so much of your life, Willow. I wasn't there at your wedding. I wasn't there when Emily was born… I wasn't even there when you were born. Believe it or not, I regret these facts. I feel like the only right thing I've ever done for you was divorcing your father. But that was too little too late, wasn't it, because you were already gone. Even though I thought at the time your feelings for Tara were a phase, I wasn't going to allow him to condemn your life, especially since for the first time since I'd known you, you seemed truly happy."

"Because I was," said Willow, taking Tara's hand. "Because I am." Tara looked into Willow's eyes and saw the love there and returned it. Willow smiled.

"And now, I'd like to share in your happiness," Sheila concluded, "If you'll let me."

The two younger women considered this, sharing another of their silent communications. After a time, Willow spoke softly to her wife, "Waiting room would be okay."

Willow turned to her mother, "If you wouldn't mind being in the waiting room…"

"That's perfect, thank you," Sheila smiled, then moved to stand. "Well, I guess you girls should be running along if you're to make your appointment."

"I'll just show you to the door," the old woman graciously offered, and escorted the two women back to the front of the house. After they had stepped outside, Willow turned and surprised her mother by giving her a warm and tight hug. At first Sheila wasn't sure what to do, but after a moment of indecision, she reciprocated, rubbing her hands up and down her daughter's back in a gesture of affection.

"Thanks, Mom," the redhead mumbled against Sheila's blouse, squeezing her tightly one last time before stepping away.

"Anytime," Sheila responded, a little lost as to why Willow was thanking her. Then suddenly an idea occurred to her. "Why don't you two come back by on Sunday around seven for dinner, bring Emily."

Mrs. Rosenberg nodded at the acceptance and the three of them waved their last goodbyes as Willow and Tara headed down the street and toward Ghaena's.

"Just relax now, I'm not gonna hurt you," Ghaena said to Willow, her voice soothing and calm as she helped the girl to lay down on the small bed in her office. After she made sure that Willow was draped and as comfortable as she was going to get, she signaled to Tara who was standing by, "Come here, let me show you something." The blonde quickly joined the midwife by the bed. "I think Willow might be more comfortable if you were to do this, so I'm going to teach you a very simple technique for performing a cursory physical exam to judge the development of the baby as it grows inside her belly. Willow are you alright with this?"

"I'll tell you what," Ghaena stated, "I guarantee you that there are few to no other midwives out there who would offer you what I am. It could be considered a little too hands on. But, I promise you that my hands will never touch you unless you ask for them to. I'll leave everything up to Tara unless you say otherwise. However, I can't leave things up to Tara if she doesn't know what she's doing. Understand?"

"Good. Tara, wash your hands and make sure to remove all the rings and bracelets you are wearing," the priestess instructed.

"That is a very good question with the health codes over here and all," Ghaena replied. "Now, I myself would. But, then again, I don't know Willow as… personally… as you do. If you catch my meaning? I doubt you've thought of wearing gloves in the past."

"Do what you feel is best," she completed. Tara quickly put on a pair of latex gloves from the box by the sink. "Alright," Ghaena chuckled, "In the top drawer the sink, you'll need the small tube that's inside." Tara opened the drawer and blushed an even deeper red than she already was as she picked up a small tube of lubricant jelly. She carried it back over to the bedside. "Kneel down beside Willow here," Ghaena indicated to the center of the bed. Tara did so. "Willow, are you ready?" The midwife asked gently. Willow nervously nodded. "Alright, I need you to lift up your knees and spread your legs a little. Don't worry, the sheet will stay covering you." The redhead gulped slightly and did as told. "Just try to relax," Ghaena soothed. "Tara, apply some of the lubricant to the fore and middle fingers of your left hand. Rub them together with your thumb to try and warm it up a little. Good. Now with your other hand raise the sheet just slightly by Willow's waist and slip your left hand under, trying not to get any of the lubricant on the fabric."

"Exactly," the priestess affirmed. "Now, if I were doing this I'd have to conduct it like a normal pelvic exam, and I'd be at the end of the bed, looking up. For numerous reasons, mostly ethical. But you two ladies being married and all that, we can skip formalities and opt for a more comforting approach from the side… as we are. Moving on. Now, Tara, place your right hand on Willow's low belly with your fingers pointing up to her chin. That's it… a little lower… good. Now, very gently insert the prepared fingers of your left hand inside… carefully…"

"This will be a bit uncomfortable, Willow," Ghaena explained, "But Tara's doing fine and you'll be alright. Better her than me, right?"

"Tara, you need to press as far as you can inside without hurting her," the midwife continued. "Alright, now curl your fingers slightly toward yourself and press up. Good. Now with your right hand, curl your fingers down and ever so gently press into the belly and pull delicately and without force toward her knees and you should feel…"

"Almost done, Willow," Ghaena assured. "Tara, with your right thumb, press up into her belly and see if you can gage the size."

"I've got it," Tara stated, "It's like the size of a… a… tennis ball or an apple."

"Congratulations," the priestess smiled, "You're holding your baby in your hands for the first time."

"And that's it," Ghaena announced, "Go ahead and reverse everything you just did."

Tara tenderly pulled out of her wife and removed her gloves, tossing them in the small red biohazard bin by the bed.

"Good work, Tara. By your description the fetus is exactly the size it should be at this point. At twelve weeks it should be the size of a grapefruit and at eighteen the size of a melon. After that point it's really not necessary to have to perform a 'hands-on' exam to determine the size as it's pretty visually obvious." She said as she moved to the door, "I'll just step outside a moment so that Willow can re-dress."

"Well, I mean… you were inside of me… and there was somebody else in the room," she explained. "That's a first… Thankfully."

Tara laughed and kissed Willow playfully on the nose. There were several swift knocks on the door and Ghaena's voice filtered through the wood, "Decent?"

"Yes, come on in," Willow replied. "That was nice of you to knock," she continued as the midwife re-entered the room, "most doctors just barge in."

"I'm not a doctor," Ghaena grinned, gesturing the two ladies to the couch. "Please sit."

They assumed the same sitting positions as they had the previous visit. Willow and Tara on the couch, Ghaena in one of the chairs.

The midwife chuckled at the abruptness of the query before answering. "I don't think so. The pelvis is a very pliable structure. It can stretch and twist. It's really too early in the pregnancy to be making judgments about whether or not your hips are wide enough to deliver. Do you know what kind of a time your mother had with your delivery?"

"I've been following your ancestors through the ages since the prophecy was foretold," the brunette explained, then turned back to Willow, "Don't worry. You should be fine. I'll keep an eye on you. Just take care of yourself throughout this pregnancy, alright?"

"You said that your immortality was a punishment," the blonde continued hesitantly, "what for?"

"I raised the dead," the priestess said again matter of factly, then noticing the redhead's sudden pallor, continued to explain. "No fear child, for I know of what you've done. You've paid your penance with the guilt you feel. My punishment was unique for I… I deliberately defied the Goddess. You could say that I spat in her face, in a manner of speaking."

"When I was eighteen, I was sent from Avalon to live in the world of man. I had never ventured past the mists before. I was born in the fairy realm and then raised on Avalon to become a priestess. Once I had completed my training and had been given the mark of the Goddess," Ghaena brushed her fingers over the crescent tattoo on her forehead, "Vivienne sent me out, saying it would be good for me to see how the world of man and the realm of magic work together in maintaining the balance of nature. So I went."

"Realm," the brunette gently corrected. "And no. I'm not a fairy. I am of the fairy folk, but I was mortal. My mother was an elfin princess, my father a man. At any rate," She continued, "I left Avalon and came across a small village where I met a young girl my age, with hair of spun copper and eyes as blue as the sea. I fell in love. Because I was a priestess of the Goddess, the match was blessed, her father didn't object and we married. We lived happily for two years. But one day, she fell ill. Cancer of the belly. It ate at her like an animal and I was powerless to stop it. She died in my arms."

Ghaena nodded. "As I began the spell, Vivienne appeared to me as a messenger and warned me to stop. She said that the Goddess herself forbade me from what I sought to do and to defy her would bring horrible punishment. In my grief I did not care. All I wanted was for my wife to be returned to me, so I disobeyed the Goddess and continued with my spell and it worked. She awoke in my arms as if from a light sleep. Then the thunder and lightning." Ghaena chuckled at the imagery herself before moving on. "The Goddess herself then came to me, speaking through Vivienne, and I knew that wasn't a good sign. She punished me with eternal life, saying that I would remain forever young as I watched my wife grow old and bitter and die again."

"I learned a valuable lesson that day," Ghaena explained, "Don't piss off the Goddess. She gave me a right spank that day. But she gave me the opportunity to redeem myself by sending me on a quest. She dropped a scroll at my feet, the outside of which was unmarked, forbade me from opening it, but told me that once I delivered it to its rightful owner, I could lay my head down and rest at last."

"No, I succeeded," the priestess clarified, "I found the true owner of the scroll. A bardic warrior from the east, a fascinating woman, only I found her thirty years too late. Did I mention that the Goddess also has a sense of humor? I spent a good three hundred years not knowing exactly who I was looking for, and when I find her… it's too late for the message to be any good, for when she opens the scroll, it's blank. The parchment was magic, of course. Well, I had grown quite fond of this woman, and I came to realize what the message, though missing, was for. I felt awful. By this time I had become accustomed to my immortal state and didn't want to die, but I still chose to offer my immortality as a sacrifice if I could travel back and set things right. Which I did. So, Vivienne again comes to me, the Goddess speaking through her, and she says, 'Now, Ghaena of the Mists, you have completed the task that I set forth for you.' Well, I knew she had something up her Goddess sleeve because she was speaking with the pomp and circumstance."

Willow and Tara both laughed at Ghaena's description. The brunette continued, "So she says to me that I can choose to lay my head down, or I can accept another quest, this one being that I was to protect the child who would be the savior of Avalon. Being quite proud of myself and feeling I could handle babysitting a small child as well as thinking that the babe was already born, or at the very least about to be so, I figured, 'What's another fifty years or so, I'll do it.' This was a good eight hundred years before King Arthur was even a glint in the milkman's eye, and here I am two thousand years later. Right stand up comedienne she is, the Goddess."

"Not much," Ghaena answered, "I would like to spend some time with her. Earn her trust. Start to teach her the ways of magic… of nature. With your help, of course. It is vital that you both be a part of this, a part of her education. The more she learns and understands before she returns to the mists for her formal training, the better. I would rather that it was something she was looking forward to than dreading."

"Once she… goes back with you," Willow posed, "how long will she have to stay?"

"Long enough to complete her training and raise Avalon from the mists. After that, she is free to stay or go, but she will always be a Priestess of the Goddess and her duties will remain in tact, to protect the balance of nature and act as a messenger of the Goddess."

Willow and Tara both breathed a sigh of relief at the news. It didn't sound as horrible as they both thought it might have been. Their daughter would still be able to do what she wanted with her life once this task was completed, and this is what mattered to them most. Willow casually glanced at her watch and then jumped at the time.

"Emily's off school," stated the blonde, rising, "I'm sorry Ghaena. We hate to rush off. Thank you so much for everything you are doing. Come by on Saturday and you can chat with Emily. We can make it a thing."

"Sounds wonderful, I'll be there," Ghaena responded, once again showing them to the door.

The three women made quick goodbyes and Willow and Tara rushed off to Sunnydale Elementary School where they found their daughter waiting patiently on one of the outside benches.

"Hey, baby-girl," Willow smiled, approaching her, "Sorry we're late. Mommy and I got a little hung up."

"It's okay, Mama," Emily replied, taking her hand and hopping off the bench. "I didn't have to wait too long, and besides the birdie was keeping me company."

"The one in the tree up there," Emily answered, pointing in the direction of said bird.

All three of them looked up to see a raven looking down on them, almost curiously.

"Oh, well, that was very nice of the birdie," Willow commented. "Thank you, Birdie for keeping Emily company," she added for show. Willow started to lead her daughter down the street, but Tara lingered a moment, her eyes on the dark bird, her brow furrowed. Finally she turned and moved away to join her family, not able to shake the strange feeling that something about that bird was not right.

The next couple of months passed without incident. Giles had returned to England, promising that he would do his best to return in time for the birth of Tara and Willow's next child. Now twenty weeks along, Willow's belly was finally beginning to pronounce itself enough that the two women felt it was time to let Emily in on the good news. The redhead was still struggling with the day-to-day dealings of being pregnant, but thanks to Ghaena's guidance and Tara's ever present support, she had calmed considerably. Her morning sickness had finally, and thankfully, abated and strange food cravings had taken its place. Tara had already made it very clear that she would never let Willow live down the day that she had come home to find her wife in the kitchen eating vanilla ice cream topped with asparagus. She even got a picture.

It was the first weekend after the start of summer vacation and everyone was starting to settle into a tentative routine of who would be where and when during the week. Emily would spend Mondays and Tuesdays with Joseph at his home, then Wednesdays and Thursdays, they'd reverse, Fridays were Magic Box days and the weekends stayed the same. Saturdays Ghaena would visit and spend time with Emily, while quietly checking up on Willow and continuing to teach Tara the art of midwifery as the blonde had shown definite interest and skill. Sundays were a day of rest and it was this particular Sunday that the small family came together in the living room to share with Emily her impending sisterhood.

"Why aren't we eating lunch in the kitchen, Mommy," Emily asked as she followed Tara into the living room and watched her set out a small tray with sandwiches on the coffee table.

"Because I thought it would be nice to eat in here," Tara explained as she moved back to the kitchen to get a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses.

"But you said that I wasn't allowed to eat in the living room ever since I spilled my juice when I was a little kid," the young girl stated, referring an incident that had occurred two years before.

"Well, you're bigger now and I trust you," her mother answered, smiling at her. "Now go get your Mama from the office and tell her lunch is ready."

Emily nodded and moved exactly two feet in the direction of the office before hollering, "MAMA! LUNCH!"

"When I ask you to get your Mama from the office, I expect you to go to the office and get her. I do not appreciate you yelling in the house."

"I did!" Emily cheerfully announced, before catching her mommy's eye. "Not." she added, her voice small.

They munched in silence for a few minutes, enjoying their sandwiches, before Tara finally decided to speak up.

"No it's not bad," Willow assured her, "In fact it's very good. Mommy and I are both very excited and we hope you will be too."

"Are we going to Disneyland?" Emily squeaked, barely able to contain her excitement.

"Um… no," Tara answered trying to figure out how her daughter had arrived at such a conclusion. "It's better than Disneyland."

"Better than Disneyland?" Emily was in awe. Such an idea was beyond her ability of thinking.

"You see, Emily, you're going to be…" Willow was interrupted by a frantic knocking at the front door, she looked over to her wife, alarmed. "Who could that be?"

"I don't know," Tara replied, rising, she glanced out the window, "It's Dawn." The blonde swiftly moved to the front door opening it to find the tall brunette nervously looking back at her. "Dawn with suitcases," she announced, confused.

"Oh Tara," Dawn sobbed, throwing herself forward into the other girl's arms. "It's over. Rob left me."

"Oh boy," Tara muttered, soothingly running her hands up and down the young girl's back. "Come inside Dawnie, sit down," she said, leading her inside and setting her in the seat she had just vacated. "Willow, could you get her a glass of water?"

"Rob has discovered that he prefers racquet ball to me," Dawn bitterly explained.

"Um, well… he is an avid player," the blonde replied, even more lost, "I mean, I remember when I met him he was talking about how much he and his friend Dave… oh, the OTHER kind of racquet ball." She realized.

"Ya-huh," the brunette cried, losing herself in another fit of tears. Tara offered her one of the napkins from the sandwich tray; Dawn took it and blew her nose.

"I don't know, baby-girl," Willow answered honestly, "I think she and Rob had a fight."

"Here you go, sweetie," Willow said, handing Dawn the water, before sitting down.

"Well, Dawn, you can't really blame him for this," Tara soothed, "I mean, at least Rob figured it out before you two got married."

"Dawn, sweetie," Tara continued gently, "Not to um… sound… what are you doing here?"

"What do you mean?" the young woman countered, obviously piffled, "Rob kicked me out."

"I think what Tara is asking Dawnie," Willow tried, "Is why are you here with the suitcases and not at your house?"

"You mean I can't stay here?" Dawn was shocked. Could it be her surrogate parents were actually putting her out?

"Dawn, this is a very small house," Tara explained, "and the fact is it's about to get even more crowded and I know that Buffy would love to have you home. She misses you a lot…"

"What do you mean 'more crowded'?" Dawn asked, looking to Willow who still sat reclining on the couch.

"Funny you should ask that," Willow replied, "as we were just in the process of explaining to Emily…"

"Oh, my God, you're pregnant!" Dawn shrieked, finally noticing the gentle protrusion of the redhead's belly. The brunette jumped up from her seat in surprise. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, you kind of have been in your own world these past months, Dawn," Tara answered.

The blonde turned her attention immediately to her daughter, her eyes sparkling. "Pregnant, Emily," she tenderly corrected. "It means that your Mama is going to have a baby. You're going to be a big sister."

"You are," Willow confirmed, smiling. "Come sit next to me, you can feel your little sister."

Emily cautiously approached her Mama, sidling up next to her on the couch. Willow took her daughter's hand in her own and placed in on the side of her belly. Emily wasn't sure what to expect, but suddenly she felt a tiny "thump" to her palm, and she jumped a mile. A gigantic grin over took her small face.

Later that night, Tara, her hair pulled up into a clip at the back of her head to keep it from falling in her face, sat on the bed going over the household expenses as she waited for Willow to get out of the shower. They had, after a little more coaxing, convinced Dawn to retire to the Summers' home and Buffy had come and collected her sister, trying very hard not to show the disappointment she felt with not being the first person that the brunette had come to. By now, Emily had been neatly tucked into bed and the house was quiet, leaving the two women to fall into their nightly routine.

Tara had changed into her favorite satin, nude-colored night gown and was just in the process of re-stacking her paperwork to clear the bed when Willow emerged from the shower, pink and rosy from the water's heat, a fluffy white towel wrapped around her body, her hair, still wet, combed back against her head. The scent of lavender soap mixed with humidity wafted into the room and Tara glanced up from her place on the bed to admire her lover.

"Much," the redhead answered, letting out a satisfied sigh. "With all the business with Dawn and telling Emily and… Buffy seemed so hurt, Tara. She seemed so sad."

"I know," Tara replied, standing and scooping her papers into her hand, dropping them on the vanity as she crossed over and behind Willow, wrapping her arms around her and placing her hands gently on her soul mate's swollen belly, resting her chin on the hacker's shoulder. "I don't understand why Dawn came to us either. Even with her seeing us as parental figures… Buffy should have come first."

"Hmm," Willow breathed, warmed by her wife's close contact. "I hope they sort things out."

"They will," Tara assured her, dropping her lips to Willow's damp shoulder, tasting the moist skin there.

Willow leaned her head to the side, exposing her neck to her love, her eyes drooping slightly closed. "Tara?"

"Have you thought about Memorial Day?" Willow asked, dropping her hands behind her to grasp at Tara's hips, the smooth texture of her nightgown further arousing the redhead's lust.

"What about it?" Tara responded, moving to nip and suckle at Willow's earlobe while sliding her hands up to undo the terry cloth material concealing her lover's body and letting it fall to the floor between them.

"Do you want to go to Buffy's?" Willow continued, her voice becoming more shallow as her breathing became more erratic. "Or to my mom's?" She reached her right hand up to clutch at the back of Tara's head as she turned her face toward the blonde, capturing her lips in a heated and passionate kiss.

Tara let her hands come to rest on of her wife's swollen and sensitive breasts, massaging the nipples delicately with her palms. Willow moaned appreciatively into her love's mouth as their tongues danced over one another. Tara could feel the redhead's thighs starting to shake as her knees began to give. "I think we should go to the bed," she suggested, pulling back from the kiss.

Tara chuckled huskily and led Willow onto their bed. The blonde sat on her heels in the center of the king-sized mattress, urging Willow to sit on her lap with her back to her. The hacker also rested on her knees, her legs spread apart by Tara's thighs between them.

"No," Tara exhaled onto Willow's back. "I think we should go to your mother's in the afternoon and Buffy's in the evening." She allowed her hands to once again begin their wandering ministrations as she slowly began to rock her hips forward and up into Willow's behind.

"That sounds like a good idea," the hacker replied, answering the motion, again grasping at her wife's hips for support.

Tara nibbled down Willow's shoulders, sucking the lingering moisture out of her skin. She continued to massage and tease the redhead's breasts, slowly slipping her right hand down and around her lover's rounding belly, her fingers playing in copper curls. Willow gasped, her hips thrusting forward at the erotic contact. "I thought so," Tara stated, smiling against her lover's hot flesh.

The rocking of their hips against each other became slightly faster as the blonde sought out even more intimate places with her dexterous manipulations. With pregnancy, Willow's nether regions had become even more sensitive; eliciting quicker and even more powerful climaxes, at times even multiple. Tara of course knew this from her own experience while being pregnant with Emily and nothing pleased her more than demonstrating for her lover how advantageous sex during pregnancy could be.

"Do you think…" Willow began, pausing as a sensual shudder ran down her spine when Tara moved to lick the other side of her neck. "We should take something?"

"Maybe," Tara replied. Both women were now speaking in gasping whispers, "Like what?"

"I don't know," the redhead sighed, leaning her weight more fully into her wife's arms. "What about a fruit salad?"

"You mean like the one's at the farmer's market?" Tara inquired, her breathing becoming a little more labored with her exertions. "The fresh ones?"

"Yeah." Willow's voice choked in her throat as the blonde slipped her fingers into her soaking warmth, "With the bits of pineapple…"

"And melon…" Tara sighed, feeling her own wetness dripping down between her legs even as Willow's juices co-mingled with them in her lap.

"And oranges," Willow concurred, her hips rocking a little more frantically. "I love the oranges there."

"I know," Tara responded, her fingers carefully exploring Willow's hot insides while she continued to massage the redhead's breasts with her other hand using the action to hold her wife's body firmly against her.

Willow again captured Tara's lips in a searching kiss, their tongues pressing and pushing against each other, fighting for depth. Willow could feel her orgasm building quickly as Tara stroked in and out of her folds. Suddenly, Tara felt the redhead's body tense against her as her climax rocketed down her spine and into her center.

The wiccan held her wife tenderly as the last shudders stammered through her lower body. Willow gasped and panted trying to regain her breath. Tara shifted so that she could lie back against the headboard, Willow now resting between her legs on the bed. The redhead curled to her right, laying her head on Tara's chest, letting the blonde run her fingers through her hair still wet from her shower.

"Yeah," the redhead answered, starting to giggle, "She's just…turning somersaults in there. I think we got her worked up."

"Emily was the same way," Tara commented smiling, "I think they like it when we're loving each other."

"Must be the rush of endorphins," the scientist in Willow surmised. "Kind of like liquid baby crack."

Willow unexpectedly cringed at the imagery. "Oh, yeah… good point." She clutched at her tummy a little more tightly. "Sorry, baby…uh…Baby?" She questioned as she turned her attention back to Tara.

"No," the blonde assured her, "I think she'll tell us her name when she's ready."

"We could ask her," Tara agreed, lopsided grin falling into place. "Cold?" She asked as she felt her lover shiver slightly.

"A little," Willow admitted, the cool air of the room now hitting her lightly damp body and hair causing goose bumps to rise on her skin.

"Here," Tara said, tugging the edge of the comforter free from the side of the bed and cocooning her and her love inside. "Better?"

"Willow," Tara interrupted her firmly but gently. "You're fine. I love this. Holding you like this."

They stayed wrapped up in each other, not speaking, just holding. Slowly Willow's eyelids began to droop shut as her breathing evened out.

"Emily, what is your idea of magic?" Ghaena asked the small girl as they sat cross-legged across from one another on the grass in her backyard.

It was a few weeks later and another Saturday had arrived, and along with it funny-shaped pancakes and the gentle presence of the priestess there to tutor Emily further in the ways of magic and nature. All previous Saturdays Ghaena had regaled the young girl with stories of Avalon and the fairy realm and Emily had listened with wide eyes and excited ears, but still it was clear that she didn't understand that these fantastic tales were true.

"Your mommy is right," the brunette smiled. She began to pick flowers and daisy chain them together absent-mindedly. "There is false magic, light magic and dark magic… and many others in between."

"That's understandable," Ghaena replied, "But dark magic is important, it is vital… because without it, light magic wouldn't exist. And if light magic didn't exist, neither would dark magic. It's a balance and it is important to maintain; too much either way, the scales are tipped, the harmony is lost and things fall into discord."

"Absolutely," Ghaena agreed. "Magic is all around us all the time. Moving. Flowing. When a seed is planted and takes root, that is magic. When the wind blows through your hair and kisses at your skin, that is magic. And when the morning star winks and the sun rises, that is magic too."

Emily's small face turned into an adorable pout. She glanced over to the priestess apologetically. "Mommy, can Ghaena have lunch with me too?"

"Ghaena and Mama and I need to talk a little, sweetie," Tara replied, "But, Joseph and your Uncle Xander are here and they both look really hungry!"

Again the small girl turned to the brunette, almost as if asking permission to go. Ghaena smiled and dropped the now finished flower necklace around the girl's neck. "Go on," she said, "don't keep your boyfriend waiting."

"Ew!" Emily squealed, running into the house, "Uncle Xander! You'll never guess what Ghaena said!"

Tara and the priestess both laughed at the girl's hasty exit. "Sandwiches and juice boxes are on the kitchen counter," the blonde called gently after.

"Thanks for doing this, Xander," said Willow who was standing over by the sink, cutting up one of the sandwiches into small bite sized bits for Joseph.

"No, problem," he answered, setting his toolbox on the kitchen counter, "What are friends for if not re-assembling old cribs?"

"I think you've just hit on one of the great mysteries of the universe," the hacker replied, handing Xander's son his plate and signing, 'Careful.' Joseph nodded and joined Emily by the kitchen counter and she helped him up into one of the stools.

"Emily, your Mama, Ghaena and I are going to be in Mama's office talking," Tara explained, "Keep an eye on Joseph and listen to your Uncle Xander."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," Xander guaranteed, "You still want it in Emily's room?"

"Yes," Tara confirmed, "On the far wall across from her bed. Thanks again, Xander."

Emily swiftly caught Joseph's attention. 'My room', she signed, 'They're putting the baby's crib in my room.'

"Well," he continued, eyeing them both warily, "after you finish your lunches, would you like to help me put this thing together?"

Emily and Joseph shared a quick conspiratorial glance before Emily replied, "Okay."

In the office, behind closed doors, Tara and Willow sat comfortably on the small futon love-seat while Ghaena had pulled Willow's task chair from behind her desk and was seated across from them.

The midwife let out a long sigh. "On how and where you would like to have this baby?"

"Oh," the redhead replied, nervously clearing her throat, "Isn't it a little early for that?"

"Well, it might be a little bit early to have firmly made up your mind," Ghaena allowed, "But you should at least be discussing it."

"Will," Tara soothed, "Ghaena's right. We can at least talk about it a little. You're almost to the end of your second trimester. You need to start getting used to the idea of giving birth."

"Yeah," Willow said softly, shifting a little in her seat. "Okay…so, um… what are my choices on location?"

"Anywhere you feel comfortable and safe," Ghaena explained. "It could be at the hospital, my office, here at home, even at a friend's house if they don't mind it. I come to you."

"Again, I put heavy emphasis on Willow's comfort and safety," the priestess stressed, "But given the progress of the pregnancy so far I don't see a need for a hospital birth. She could have the baby right here at home. If that's what she wants."

"Now we're on to birthing options," Ghaena pressed on, "I suggest either a birthing stool, like the one in my office, or a water tub, or a combination. You can labor in the tub and then use the stool to give birth. A lot of women use this option because they are uncomfortable with the idea of having their baby under water, but still enjoy the relaxing effect of the tub."

"Well, don't put it off too long," the midwife warned, "because before you know it you'll be full term and without a birth plan and the last thing you need is to be indecisive once your water breaks."

"Uh-oh," Tara commented, standing from her seat. "Sounds like the kids have gotten into something." She helped her lover to stand and the three of them left the office to inspect what was causing the rabble.

They found Xander standing in Emily's doorway, staring in at the two children who stood, as menacingly as two small children can, in front of the disassembled crib. Xander's crescent wrench stuck out of the crook of Emily's elbow where she had her arms crossed in front of her small chest in defiance.

"They took my wrench and now they won't let me near the crib," Xander explained, exasperated.

"Baby-girl," Willow said, moving into the room with Tara. "We know that this is your room, but you're just going to have to share it for a while."

"Until we get a larger house so that your little sister can have her own room too," Tara explained, kneeling down to eye-level with the girl.

"You didn't even ask me first," Emily now said, her voice small as she looked down at her toes.

"We didn't think we'd have to," Tara said, reaching out to stroke Emily's arm, "But you're right, we should have. We're sorry."

Emily considered this for a moment, chewing on her lower lip in thought. "Okay," she said finally, handing the crescent wrench to her mommy and stepping aside of the unfinished crib.

"C'mere you," Tara smiled, pulling her little daughter into a tight hug and kissing her on the cheek.

"Only because I love you so much," her mother replied, wiping off her baby's cheek.

"Smart aleck," Willow playfully chided, "You've been hanging around Uncle Xander too long."

"Honestly, Anya, I'm getting to the end of my rope," Tara said to the ex-demon as the two of them chatted over chai tea and coffee at the Espresso Pump. "I mean, I'm not a walking thesaurus, there are only so many ways to say, 'Don't worry, Honey, everything will be fine'."

"I must admit even I have been stunned by Willow's overwhelming insecurity with being pregnant," Anya replied, "She's even worse than I was, and I was a complete mess." She thoughtfully sipped at her amaretto-flavored caffeine. "I don't know how you've made it this far without giving her a swift kick in the pants."

"Will's always needed a lot of reassurance in everything," Tara explained, "Truthfully it's part of why I love her so, her need for me is so tangible, and mine for her as well. But, I just… I don't know…"

"If I were you I'd be concerned about her rejecting the baby," Anya stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh it happens," the former vengeance demon went on, "and not just in the wild. It's rare but occasionally a human mother will reject her offspring."

"Oh, I'm sure you're right," Anya agreed, "Especially with the way she's embraced this pregnancy, she should be fine."

"Anya, I've got enough on my mind as it is, I don't need you relaying last week's Sally Jesse Raphael."

"I'm just trying to be honest with you," she commented, trying to smooth her ruffled feathers. "Anyway, it wasn't Sally, it was Geraldo."

"This is a new one," Anya illuminated. "Yesterday his guests where Tipper Gore and Puff Daddy."

"'People with Hair'." The ex-demon replied. "Talk shows have really gone down hill."

"Yeah," Tara agreed. They continued nursing their beverages for a moment. "You don't really think Willow will reject the baby, do you?"

"No, of course not. She'll be just fine," Anya responded, tapping Tara on the hand. "Unless of course she isn't."

"I just don't understand why we have to decide this now," Willow complained. She and Buffy were seated at the island inside the Summers' home kitchen. The sounds of Emily and Joseph playing in the backyard filtered into the house.

"You're absolutely right, Will," the slayer agreed, "You shouldn't have to decide this now."

"You should have already decided three weeks ago before you were half-way into your seventh month," Buffy finished.

"Face it, Will… the baby is gonna come out," she continued, "And there is nothing you can do to stop it so you had better figure out the 'where' and the 'how' especially since you're getting awful close to the 'when'."

"Ghaena says you're going to be fine, Tara says you're going to be fine, everyone says you're going to be fine," Buffy said, exasperated. "So you're going to be fine!"

"I know what you want, Willow," the slayer replied, "You want me to agree with you and tell you that I think everyone is pushing you too hard to make a decision. But, that's not what you need. You need someone one to tell it to you like it is and as your best friend, I feel it is my sacred duty to do so."

"So, you're giving me what I need and not what I want," the redhead bitterly surmised.

"Will, what do you think is going to happen when nine months is up?" Buffy questioned. "I mean, honestly, what do you think? Do you even realize that at the end of all this there's going to be a new life in your hands? Or do you think that you'll just stop being pregnant and everything will go back to how it was before?"

Willow stared into her glass of ice water, she could feel her nostrils flaring as her temper rose, but she kept it in check, because she knew deep down that her best friend was right. "Of course I know that there is a life inside of me, Buffy," she said. "I can feel her kick."

The slayer decided to let the subject rest for the moment. She could see that Willow was taking this conversation in a similar fashion to how she used to take a beating from a vamp. Hard.

"Middle of August," Willow answered, "The school district has decided to try the year-round thing."

"Emily?" Willow questioned to verify. Seeing Buffy nod, she continued, "Oh, she's excited. She loves school."

"Just like her mama," the blonde smiled. Willow smiled back. "Will, you're a great parent and you're going to do fine. But you need to start making plans."

The redhead nodded dumbly, absent-mindedly rubbing one of her hands over her growing belly.

Willow lay wide-awake in bed, propped up in a nest of pillows; Tara curled up at her side. She scanned the varying darkness of the bedroom, her eyes falling on the digital display of the alarm clock: 2:36am. Letting out a tired sigh she shifted a little, feeling the child inside her respond with a protesting kick.

"Oof," she winced quietly, "I guess I woke you up." Another kick. "Sheesh. You're starting to feel like an entire AYSO soccer team in there."

"Sh, baby, go back to sleep," Willow urged, "I'm just having a little argument with mini-me in here."

"I think she joined a step aerobics class behind our backs," the redhead joked. Tara smiled and placed her hand on her lover's belly; feeling the movement, joy filling her heart. She didn't notice Willow's expression taking a sudden turn downward until her wife spoke something so softly she barely registered it.

"I said 'I'm scared'." Willow repeated, her voice still tiny. "You were so much better at this," she continued.

"Having a baby," the hacker explained. "You were so natural. I mean, you were so beautiful and sexy and… you handled everything so well. Even with the difficulties near the end… you were perfect."

"To me you were," Willow pressed on, "you were my beautiful pregnant earth goddess."

"Get me down off that pedestal right now," Tara responded softly but firm. "Because there is no way that you are going to be able to live up to an idealized image in your head. I know that if that's what you feel you have live up to, you know you can't so you'll think you've already failed. But, you haven't failed, Will and you need to get yourself out of the mindset that you have or else you will. And I can't stand to see that happen. I won't."

Willow winced as she felt another kick. It seemed she was getting hit on all sides. Literally.

"Michelle," Tara immediately answered, a great smile suddenly crossing her face.

"I know," Willow agreed, her eyes brightening in the dark. "Michelle. She told me, just now."

After an age of basking in the glow their new daughter's name, Willow finally spoke up, "Do you think Buffy would mind if we used our old room?"

"We can ask, but I don't see why not," the blonde responded, beaming, "I think she'd be positively thrilled!"

"Good," Tara whispered, leaning up to kiss her lover's cheek. "Goodnight, sweetheart." She then placed her lips softly on Willow's belly. "Goodnight, Michelle."

"Oof… she says 'goodnight'." The redhead mumbled. Tara chuckled softly as sleep overtook them all.

"Thanks for helping with the clean-up, Tara," Buffy said as the two women made rounds through the Summers' home picking up used paper plates and the scattered remains of balloons and wrapping paper. "I hadn't realized when I suggested having Joseph's birthday party here just how tiring it was going to be."

"Well, been there, done that," Tara smiled, "And you've got to admit you had fun. I saw you playing pin the tail on the donkey, you seemed very enthusiastic."

"Well, ten sugar-rushed four year olds holding me at plastic, cake-covered knife point was a very persuasive tactic to get with the playing," the slayer joked.

Tara laughed as they walked into the kitchen, dumping their disposable bounty into an over-sized garbage bag. Buffy checked out the backdoor window to make sure that the remaining party guests were still playing nice. She chuckled as she saw Xander giving several of the kids pony-rides on his back while Anya fussed over Joseph, wiping his face of any left-over cake.

"One thing I will say though," Buffy continued, "Joseph being the way he is and, most of his friends coming from the deaf pre-school, made for a very quiet party. At least the neighbors won't complain about noise."

"Yeah, they'll be far to focused on the toilet-papered front lawn," the wiccan pointed out. "But it's the quiet that makes me nervous. I'm still not very fluent with sign language… I always get the idea that they're plotting something."

"Example, toilet papering the front lawn." Buffy commented. "Especially when Em and Joe get together. Those two are just plain mischievous."

Tara nodded in confirmation as she turned her attention to the sink and began filling the basin with hot water and soapsuds.

"Oh don't worry about the dishes, Tara," the slayer said, moving to her side. "I'll get them later. Besides, you should probably start thinking of getting Willow home, she looked tired."

"She went upstairs to lie down a little while ago," Tara explained, "the baby has been really active the last week or so, keeping her up at night. She just can't seem to get comfortable enough to sleep. I feel for her, I remember with Emily the last weeks were almost tortuous."

"Still a few weeks from full term," Tara replied, "her due date isn't until the middle of September, so she's nearing the end of her thirty-seventh week."

"Oh yes," the blonde said, letting out a grateful breath. "Ever since we came up with a name she's been doing a whole lot better. Still nervous, but better."

Emily came bursting through the back door, making a bee line for the hall. Buffy stopped her with a quick grab of her arm. "Whoa, Speed Racer," she chided teasingly, "where you headed with the gas pedal down?"

"Uncle Xander just showed me a neat trick, Godmommy! Watch!" The little girl stuck her tongue out in concentration as she sloppily tried to recreate what Xander had shown her. After a couple of unsuccessful tries she finally did a fairly decent job of making it look like she could separate her thumb in half.

"Wow!" Buffy stated, "That's pretty neat. I didn't know you had a 'snap-on' thumb."

"Mama is upstairs lying down in our old room," Tara illuminated, "But if you promise not to wake her if she's asleep, you can go and check on her and see if she'd like to see."

"I'll tip toe the whole way," Emily promised, and demonstrated her seriousness by slowly tip toeing out of the kitchen and into the hall.

The two women laughed as they went outside to rejoin the rest of the group. Two more kids had been collected by their parents and now only one pint-sized party-goer remained. He and Joseph sat on the garden bench talking to one another excitedly.

"What are they so wrapped up about?" Buffy asked of Xander as she and Tara joined the young man and is wife in sitting on the porch steps.

"I think they're debating who the better superhero is," Xander responded, "Spiderman or Daredevil."

"Brian, that's the little boy, is arguing for Spiderman," Anya explained, "But Joey is pressing for Daredevil. Either that or they're discussing plans for world domination. And they're just far too young for such talk."

"Oh yes," Tara agreed, "World domination is definitely in the five and over category."

The back door opened and shut behind them and they all looked over their shoulders to see Emily standing there nervously.

"Hey, kiddo," Xander smiled, "Maybe you can help settle a debate. Who's the better superhero? Spiderman or Daredevil?"

"Yes, sweetie?" Tara inquired, noting her daughter's sudden change in mood. Emily leant down to the blonde's ear and whispered something. "What, baby? I didn't understand you." Emily tried again. "Sweetie, just say it out loud," Tara urged.

"It's okay, munchkin," Buffy soothed, "We won't laugh. Did you have an accident?"

Tara leapt to her feet, her eyes wide. "Oh god, Buffy, call Ghaena now!" She ordered as she rushed past her daughter and inside the house.

The slayer nodded and did just that. On a nearby tree branch, a dark bird suddenly took flight.

Tara burst through the door to her and Willow's old bedroom at the Summers' home and found her wife curled onto her right side clutching at her belly. The sheets were soaked through as a result of the hacker's water breaking and the blonde rushed over to Willow's side and knelt down by the bed.

"I think I scared Emily pretty bad," Willow stated, the contraction now having passed. "My water broke right when she finished doing her thumb trick, I think she thinks she may have caused it."

Tara couldn't help herself from laughing at the imagery. "Oh no," she chuckled, covering her mouth in amusement. "How many contractions have you had?" She asked after a moment.

"Okay," Tara noted, getting into business mode, "I'm going to run you a warm bath like Ghaena suggested. Buffy just called for her so she should be here soon."

"Will you be okay here for a few minutes while I run the bathwater?" The wiccan inquired.

"It sounds like they're running a bath," Anya commented. "Maybe Willow did just wet herself. Not that it would be her fault, mind you. But sometimes the baby's weight can press just right on the old bladder. I remember with Joseph I had more than one near miss and then there was that time at Xander's boss' retirement dinner when---"

Buffy began to pace in front of the stairs. "Should we be doing something? I think we should be doing something. Boiling water… making a casserole… I forget which."

"Increasing water temperature is for birth," Anya explained, "creating a dish that no one will ever eat is for death."

"Who died?" Asked Dawn as she came in through the front door, her eyes wide with worry.

"Oh, then, what's going on?" The brunette queried, "Why is everyone down here looking all nervous?"

Over in a corner of the room, Emily sat huddled with her knees up to her chest, her face introspective and sad. Joseph approached his upset friend and sat down next to her.

'Because I was a baby once, and I like you', the little boy stated with certainty. Emily smiled.

"Well, shouldn't we be doing something?" Dawn stated, "Getting her to the hospital?"

"But the baby is a little early," the slayer commented, "maybe we should take them to a hospital."

"We should probably let Ghaena decide that when she gets here," responded Xander, "she should be here soon. Shouldn't she?"

"How are you doing, honey?" Tara asked as she gently massaged Willow's shoulders with a warm washcloth. The redhead had been soaking in the relaxing warmth of the tub for almost two hours now, her contractions still coming, steady, but slow.

"I'm sure she's on her way," the blonde soothed, trying to keep any nagging thoughts of worry at bay.

"Sure," Tara obliged, standing and moving to the door. "Do you want me to get you anything while I'm downstairs?"

The wiccan made her way into the hall and down the stairs where she was met with a herd of worried eyes staring back at her.

"None," Buffy answered, "I've been whispering for her like every two seconds. Maybe you should do it. Maybe it's an ancestors only paging system."

"She might be in trouble," Xander posed. "Maybe she needs a little slayer action."

"Good idea," Buffy concurred, turning to Tara. "I'll do a quick patrol, see if I can find her."

"Thanks," said Tara. "We should be alright for a while. Given the way Will's going now, it's looking like a long labor."

"Still, she should be here," stated Buffy, opening the front door as she grabbed her coat. "One errant midwife coming up." The slayer disappeared behind the door.

"Could you call her mom?" Tara asked. "And maybe run to the store and get some Gatorade or juice. Will likes the purple."

"Gatorade," the blonde clarified. "Oh, and maybe get some crackers. If this is going to take as long as it looks, we have to keep her strength up."

"Ghaena's been teaching me," Tara explained. "I'm just going to grab her a glass of water. I should get back upstairs."

Anya was asleep on the couch, a child in each arm huddled up against her. Emily sleeping with her head on her shoulder, Joseph sleeping with his head in her lap. Dawn sat in the chair by the desk, her chin resting in her hand, she tried to politely stifle a yawn as she watched Xander nervously pacing back and forth from the hallway into the living room over and over.

"Alexander, please," Sheila Rosenberg spoke up from where she was seated in one of the easy chairs. "You're making me dizzy."

"Sorry," he apologized and swiftly sat down on the floor. "It's just… it's been four hours since Buffy left---"

"I'm here," Ghaena announced, bursting in through the door, breathless, a large sack slung over her shoulder.

"I am," the midwife confirmed. "I'm sorry I'm late. I ran into a bit of… a tangle. I take it Willow and Tara are upstairs." Three heads nodded in affirmative. "Excellent, I'll just---"

"Ghaena?" Sheila asked, rising to meet her, her hand extended in greeting. "Hi, I'm Sheila Rosenberg, Willow's mother."

"It is a pleasure," Ghaena smiled congenially, taking the other woman's hand. "Now if you'll excuse me…" The priestess indicated to the stairs.

"Oh, yes of course," Sheila responded, stepping aside. Ghaena smiled and started up the steps, but was once again stopped by Mrs. Rosenberg. "Oh, Ghaena, just a moment, you have something in your hair." She reached up and pulled the offending article out. "There we are…," she said, examining it, "Oh, it's only a black feather. I hope it wasn't…er… ornamental."

Ghaena glared at the item in Sheila hand. "No," she stated, almost coldly. "If you would oblige me by burning it, I'd be most appreciative."

"Oh!" Mrs. Rosenberg exclaimed, looking more closely at the feather. "No wonder she wants it burned. There's blood on it!"

The Scoobies, minus the still sleeping Anya, moved in to inspect the aberrant plume.

"Tara, it's me Ghaena," she announced, tapping on the bedroom door, "can I come in?"

The blonde swiftly opened the door and allowed the midwife inside. "We were worried," said Tara, stepping aside to let Ghaena put down her burden.

"Yes, I'm sorry," the brunette apologized, "But I had something unexpected come up that I had to deal with. How is she?"

"Doing as well as can be expected," Tara explained, leading the midwife to the bathroom door. "She's soaking in the tub."

Ghaena nodded and Tara stuck her head inside the small room. "Will, Ghaena's here, is it alright if she comes in?"

"But I'm naked," Willow complained, covering her swollen breasts with her hands.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, Willow," Ghaena called from behind Tara. "Now is not exactly the time for modesty."

Tara moved the rest of the way in to the bathroom, allowing the priestess inside. Ghaena moved swiftly over to the redhead and placed her hands on her belly. "How often are your contractions?" she asked.

"Um, every fifteen minutes or so," Willow answered, slightly taken by Ghaena's failure to ask for permission to touch her.

Ghaena sat back on her heels. "Well, I never thought I'd have to say this to you, Willow," Ghaena stated, "But you're too relaxed. I think it's time you took a walk."

"Aye," the midwife confirmed. "A few trips up and down the stairs should set things to moving. Fully clothed, of course, " she added with a smile. "I'll leave it to Tara to get you out and ready." She said, standing and moving to the door, but quickly turning back to say, "I'm sorry if I startled you by being so 'down to business' just now. But because of my delay in arriving, I wasn't sure how far along you were when I got here. Alright?"

"What do you want for breakfast?" Buffy asked as she walked to the kitchen, Xander and Dawn in tow. The first rays of sunlight were beginning to peak over the horizon as Willow entered her twelfth hour of labor. After numerous trips up and down the stairwell, Ghaena suggested that they all settle down and watch a funny movie, or at least something that Willow found humorous as laughter could also help to speed up labor. So after arguing over movie titles, they had finally settled on tuning into the cartoon channel and watching reruns of "Sponge Bob Squarepants". It had worked and now Willow, Tara and Ghaena had once again returned to the bedroom upstairs.

"Oh about two or three… gallons of coffee," Xander stated, rubbing at his eyes in an effort to keep them open.

"We should call Giles," said Buffy, moving to the fridge and pulling out the milk.

"Let's wait until the baby is actually born," suggested Xander, "You know… next year."

"Guys, come on," Buffy spoke firmly, "Be fair. Look at how tired we are… can you even imagine how Willow feels?"

All three of them looked up to the kitchen ceiling, as if they were trying to look through and into the bedroom above.

Willow sat naked on the birthing stool that the midwife had brought with her in her sack. The chair was set up just in front of the edge of the bed so that Tara could sit behind her wife offering herself as physical and emotional support.

"Willow, yes you can," Tara soothed, wiping sweat soaked strands of red hair out of her lover's face.

"Willow," Ghaena stated, getting her attention, "The baby's head is crowning. Just two more pushes and we're done. Just two more, you can do that."

"That's right," the midwife replied, "But they have to be good, strong ones. You can do it."

Willow bore down with everything that she had. Pressing and pushing, she gripped at the handles on the side of the chair for support as Tara continued to offer words of encouragement and praise.

"Her head's out, Willow," Ghaena declared, "Let's try for the rest of her. Keep pushing!"

The redhead kept on, giving the last of the little strength she had left to this one final push. Michelle greeted the world with a resounding wail as Ghaena lifted her into the air and placed her in her mother's arms. Willow held her baby to her chest, unable to do anything but cry, no longer tears of pain, but tears of joy. Tara rocked her beautiful wife and child in her arms, kissing at her love's temple as tears of her own formed in her eyes.

After she had finished attending to Willow and the baby, Ghaena left the two of them and Tara alone to go downstairs and tell the others. The priestess arrived at the base of the steps, finding everyone now awake and looking up at her expectantly. The brunette smiled, and crossed over to where Emily was standing, kneeling down in front of her.

"Emily," she said, her eyes gleaming, "Would you like to meet your little sister?"

"Why don't you take your grandmother and go upstairs and greet the new member of the family?" Ghaena smiled.

"She's exhausted," Ghaena answered, "But fine. I suggest you make this visit brief."

The two of them stepped in to the bedroom and looked over to see Willow reclined against the headboard of the bed, a sheet covering her still nude body, one breast discreetly exposed as Michelle suckled on it. The hacker did look very, very tired, but also extremely happy. She smiled at her mother and older daughter, inviting them over with her eyes.

Tara stayed back as her mother-in-law and Emily approached her wife, unable to stop a new rush of happy tears to her eyes.

"Babies are like that," Tara explained, moving up to kneel behind her daughter, placing her hands softly on small shoulders. "Why don't you say hello?"

"Hello, Michelle," said Emily, then she turned to look back at Tara, "Is it okay if I kiss her?"

"Of course," Tara smiled. Emily hesitantly leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss on the newborn's head. Willow and Tara beamed at their firstborn's show of affection.

"Hey," Sheila replied, dropping out of character to use the colloquialism. "Emily's right. She's beautiful, Willow."

Mrs. Rosenberg quickly recognized her child's growing fatigue. "You're tired," she stated, suddenly feeling awkward. "Why don't I take Emily to get some breakfast so that you three can rest?"

"That's what grandma's are for," she smiled, "come on, Emily, how would you like a banana split for breakfast?"

"What?" She asked. "It's not everyday she gets a new baby sister. Besides, it has fruit."

"I think it would be alright," Tara agreed, quickly adding, "Just this once. And you are eating two vegetables with dinner tonight."

Mrs. Rosenberg chuckled, taking her granddaughter's hand and leading her out of the room. "We'll be back after a while," she said leaving the other women alone.

"How are you?" Tara asked, sitting on the bed next to her love and their new child.

Tara let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "I love you," she said softly, placing a light kiss on Willow's lips.

"Thanks for the ride home, Xander," said Willow as she carefully stood up out of the car, cradling the barely 10-hour old Michelle in her arms.

"No problem," the young man replied, walking around the front of his '08 Chevy station wagon. "I'm just surprised that you wanted to come home so soon, not to mention impressed that you're actually, ya know, walking."

Tara and Emily had by now left the car and made it up to the front porch of their house where they were in the process of unlocking the door as Willow and Xander came up behind them.

"We had originally planned on staying at Buffy's for a couple days," Tara explained as she let everyone inside. "But with Michelle deciding to come a little early, we hadn't had the opportunity to get everything we would have needed over to her house."

"I'm going to put her down," Willow softly announced, carrying the sleeping newborn into her and Tara's bedroom where they had set-up a small bassinet where Michelle would be sleeping for the first few weeks. The two women were more than aware of how irregular a infant's sleep patterns can be, and they didn't want Emily to have to suffer through late-night feedings and potential bouts of cholic.

Xander nodded as he watched his best friend disappear down the hall. "Do you guys need anything?" He asked Tara.

"Actually, that depends on Emily," the blonde replied, kneeling down to eye-level with her daughter. "Emily," she said, "How would you like to spend tomorrow night at Uncle Xander's?"

"Because tomorrow is Sunday and a school night and I want to make sure that you get a full night's rest," Tara illuminated. "Your little sister will probably be doing a lot of crying and I don't want her to keep you up." What the wiccan left unspoken was that she knew that she and Willow would need a couple of days to get used to having a new baby and assemble a sort of routine for dealing with Michelle's needs without leaving Emily feeling neglected. "Besides," she continued, "How often do I let you spend a school night at your best friend's house?"

"So, consider yourself lucky," the blonde smiled. "You'll be here tonight and you'll see what a fuss a new baby can make and then you'll be thanking me."

"Maybe…" the girl drifted off, suddenly suspicious of her mommy's motivations.

"Sweetheart," Tara said, trying to thwart any feelings of misgiving she sensed her daughter may be having, "You're my baby and your Mama and I love you. We just want to make sure that you're taken care of during these first couple of days while we get used to having your sister around, okay? We don't want you to think that we're forgetting about you or that Michelle is more important than you are, because you are equally important to us."

"So is that okay, Xander?" Tara asked, rising to her feet, "Can she stay with you tomorrow night?"

"Consider it done," Xander guaranteed. "I'd better get back. Buffy and Dawn are going to want a full report on the car ride over here. Did Michelle wake up, did Michelle make any cute little noises, did Michelle prove Einstein's theory of relativity? You know… they're obsessing on the new baby goodness."

"Well, you'd better get back then," Tara encouraged, a joking grin on her lips. "They must be waiting on tinder hooks."

Xander gave the other woman a warm hug, kissing her on the cheek before pulling away. "Congratulations," he smiled softly. He leaned over and ruffled Emily's hair, "See you tomorrow, kiddo."

The carpenter stepped back onto the front porch and paused. "Oh hey," he said, leaning down to pick up an unopened envelope that lay on the wooden floor of the decking, "I guess the postman must have dropped this." He handed to Tara. "Well, I'm gone. See you later."

"Thanks, Xander," she said, calling after him. She inspected the envelope. The return address said Sunnydale Elementary School. "Emily, go and play in your room for a little while," she instructed, "I'll call you when dinner's ready."

As the head guidance counselor for Sunnydale Elementary School I am very pleased to inform you that due to your child's above-average test scores on the recent skills and aptitudes survey conducted at this school I would very much recommend her promotion to the next grade level.

Please contact me as soon as you are able so that we may begin to discuss and facilitate your child's promotion.

A huge grin of joy and surprise streaked across Tara's face. She quickly shut the front door and hurried into the bedroom to tell her wife the good news, but came to a screeching halt when she found Willow passed out asleep on the bed, the exhaustion of the day once again overwhelming her.

Oh well, the blonde thought, I'll tell her later. She leaned over the bassinet to observe their baby, still sleeping, just as tired as her Mama from the extensive labor. Tara delicately stroked the tiny infant's downy soft blonde hair, letting out a soft sigh of contentment before leaving the two sleeping angels and going to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

The kitchen window looked out over the front lawn, and as the blonde set to work inside, a pair of small black beady eyes observed her from across the way.

The raven was broken, but not dead. It hobbled painfully across the grass along the sidewalk. It held up its right wing, observing the hole left by a missing feather. It shook its little black head, in a manner that could have suggested disgust. It paused, almost seeming as though it was focusing intently on something, then suddenly a deep purple haze surrounded it, then dissipated. The bird, now healed, took flight.

Willow and Tara sat patiently in the hallway at Sunnydale Elementary School. Tara held an awake, but drowsy, Michelle in her arms while Willow rummaged through the diaper bag searching for the infant's pacifier.

"I think we must have left it at home," the redhead announced after several more minutes of unsuccessful scavenging.

"Well, I think she'll be okay," said Tara, "If she starts to get fussy we can always give her a bottle."

Willow started to nod her head in agreement, but suddenly stopped, her eyes getting wide. "Uh, Tar…"

"Um, well…" her wife replied, "I remembered the bottle in the sense that I remembered to take it out of the fridge to bring with us… but… I kinda forgot to put it in the bag."

"Well, I'm sorry," the hacker responded, "But with the whole not sleeping for the past three days…"

"I know, I know," her lover soothed. "It's alright. We'll deal with it. She's pretty sleepy right now, so hopefully she'll just nod off completely."

An attractive African-American woman stepped out into the hall from the school's administrative offices. She looked over to the two women and smiled.

"I'm Charlotte Geary, Emily's counselor," she said, introducing herself, "Please join me in my office."

Willow and Tara nodded and rose, following Charlotte past the front desk and toward the back of administration. Her office was comparable to any other school counselor's office the pair had encountered throughout their own school days. The walls were lined with bookshelves, there were the occasional incidence of student photos and drawings all signed with love to "Miss Geary," a few plaques adorned the wall along with a couple of diplomas. Willow and Tara sat opposite the counselor at her desk, Michelle making a few soft sounds of protest at the sudden influx of movement.

"What a beautiful baby," Charlotte complimented, "She's so tiny, how old is she?"

"Well, congratulations," said the counselor, "I had no idea you were expecting."

"We've only been in session for a little over two weeks," Miss Geary explained, "and I haven't yet had the opportunity to speak with Emily one on one, though I look forward to doing so."

"Emily told us that she didn't know about her test scores," Willow replied, "But she is very excited at the notion of being promoted to fourth grade."

"Of course," Tara answered, "We keep a very open dialogue with our children, Miss Geary. Before we make any kind of decision that may affect Emily's life, we always make sure it's what she wants first."

"Please, call me Charlotte," the woman smiled, "And that is a very admirable and rare quality to find in a parent these days. I must say it's refreshing."

"Well, signing of paperwork, of course, uh… Emily will need to take an equivalency test in order to get credit for her third grade year before she can be promoted. She will pass with relative ease, I'm sure. Of course she will be given the opportunity to study prior to the exam. The only concern I really have is how well she will be able to adjust to being around children older than herself. Since she is only advancing one grade-level she should be fine. Plus, there is the added bonus of being with a familiar teacher. Her second grade teacher, Ms. Henckle, was just transferred to fourth grade after our previous fourth grade teacher Mr. Banfield accepted a job out of state. It was Ms. Henckle who first brought Emily to my attention."

"Emily has often spoke fondly of Ms. Henckle," Tara noted, "I'm sure she'll be incredibly excited to be in her class again."

"As is Ms. Henckle to have her," Charlotte grinned. "Ms. Henckle is also the fourth grade G.A.T.E. teacher. Gifted And Talented Education. Emily will be learning at an even more accelerated rate than just advancing her grade level can provide. She will be grouped with other students like her who have a thirst for knowledge and an aptitude for learning. Two things that do not always go hand in hand."

"Excellent," commended Miss Geary, "then you're familiar with what a wonderful program it can be for motivated students like your daughter."

"Are you sure this won't be too much too fast," queried Tara. "I mean, I know that Emily is very bright, but she's always just been a girl her age, to me anyway. She's always enjoyed school and done well in her classes…"

"Mrs. Rosenberg-Maclay," Charlotte cut-in, "given Emily's recent test scores it would not be unreasonable to suggest that your daughter's intelligence level could be bordering on genius. If not in fact be genius." Tara's jaw snapped shut with an audible pop. "I assure you that this move is nothing that Emily can't handle, provided that she has the support and encouragement of her parents. She does have your support?"

"Of course she does," Willow fervently replied, "That's not even a question. My wife is just concerned with overwhelming our daughter, as am I. I would feel a lot better about this if we met again after you'd had the opportunity to actually meet Emily yourself and even after that I'd rather have her here when the final decision is made."

"Again, I find your concern and involvement with Emily's life to be almost awe-inspiring," stated the counselor. " I can set up a meeting with your daughter later in the week, your presence is welcomed and encouraged."

Outside of the school, Michelle tucked neatly in her stroller, the two women made their way back toward home. It was a little past noon and the sun was high, beating down on them with the gentle heat of the California summer. Willow was pushing the stroller and Tara had placed one of her hands on top of her wife's, their fingers lightly interlocking as they walked the tree-lined streets.

The walk was surprisingly quiet. Neither woman really felt the need to speak. They were both tired from the up and down nature of the last few nights of caring for their new baby and now had even more to think about in regards to their older child's welfare.

Ghaena had been kind and very patient in her tutorials with Emily over the past seven months. But somehow, in the past few days since Michelle's birth, the priestess had seemed suddenly agitated with the slow going nature of Emily's training. She had insisted on stopping by every day to meet with the young redheaded girl to teach her even more. Tara had finally become firm with the brunette, making it clear that the weekdays were for Emily's schoolwork, not to mention that with an infant in the house things were hectic enough as it is and they all needed a few days, if not even a few weeks to adjust to the change.

Ghaena had gone off in a huff, muttering something unintelligible under her breath. Both Willow and Tara had been surprised and a little alarmed with sudden strange attitude the woman they had come to know as a friend had unexpectedly acquired.

They turned up the walkway to their little home to find the slayer once again occupying the front steps. She had a beaming smile on her face, always a welcome change from her normal look, which generally implied bad news.

"Buffy, what are you doing here?" Asked Willow as she lifted Michelle out of the stroller.

"Um, then… who are you waiting for at 'our' house," Willow inquired, her tone playful though confused.

"Him," the slayer smiled, standing from her seat. The married couple turned to see a taxi pulling to a stop and a weary watcher stepped out.

Buffy went to help with the older man's bags as he moved to greet the two women with loving arms.

"Let me see, let me see," he smiled, looking down at the little babe in Willow's arms. "Oh, she's beautiful," he sighed happily. "May I?" he asked, indicating he'd like to hold her.

"Of course," Willow grinned, carefully passing her daughter into her old friend's arms.

Michelle's eyes were wide and full of wonder as she looked up at the new face smiling down at her. Giles tenderly placed his forefinger in the infant's grasp, his grin spreading across his whole face as the tiny girl held on with a vice-like grip. "Oh my," he breathed, a tear forming in the corner of his eye, "Tara, she looks just like you."

The wiccan smiled and walked over to Willow, wrapping her arms around her in warm affection.

In Giles' arms, Michelle's face scrunched up slightly and she began to cry a little, suddenly finding the unfamiliar face a little too so. "Sh, tut, tut, tut," Giles cooed, reaching into his jacked pocket and pulling out a small red, blue and yellow colored rattle and gently shaking it in front of the girl's face. Michelle stopped her crying and instead became mesmerized by the colorful noise-maker. But it only lasted a moment before she once again resigned herself to tears. "Uh-oh," Giles smiled, "I think she wishes her mother." Willow stepped in and reclaimed her baby, but this did not even calm her.

"I think she's hungry," the redhead surmised. Tara nodded in agreement. "I'll just take her in and uh…"

"Right," Tara smiled, seeing the milk stain quickly forming on Willow's right-breast where she had spontaneously begun to lactate at the sounds of Michelle's cries. Yet another of Mother Nature's quirks. "I guess you'd better."

Willow hurried inside, blushing furiously despite that fact that both Giles and the slayer were blissfully unaware of her predicament.

"Why don't we go inside and sit down," Tara offered, noting the watcher's fatigue from the long flight. "Giles, I can make you some tea if you'd like."

"Thank you, Tara, that would be wonderful," he smiled and the three of them went inside.

Upon entering the cozy home, Giles paused a moment in the foray to enjoy the air-conditioning before moving the rest of the way into the living room followed closely by Buffy. Tara excused herself to the kitchen to prepare the tea while Willow sat in one of the easy chairs, a light blanket draped over her right shoulder and covering Michelle, whom she was breastfeeding discreetly. The hacker blushed again as her friends entered the room to sit down.

"Nonsense, Willow," soothed Giles, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. And it's not as if we can see anything. You've done an excellent job of…er… camouflage with the blanket."

"Relax, Will," added Buffy, "This is Giles. He who endured Anya breastfeeding Joseph at the Magic Box… topless."

"Well, sales did improve that week," Tara noted as she re-entered the room with a tray of teacups filled with piping hot liquid. She set her burden down on the coffee table. "And Mr. Giles' glasses were the cleanest I think I've ever seen them," she added with a grin, passing Giles his cup.

"Yes, well… Thank you, Tara," he said, accepting her hospitality. He took a small sip of tea, and nodded is approval.

The watcher blinked. "What brings me ba…" He blinked again. "I don't know whether to be insulted by that question," he said playfully. "What brings me back? You mean other than the birth of your new baby?"

Giles sighed and slumped into the couch. "Am I that predictable? I only come back into town when something terrible is happening or going to happen?"

"C'mon, Giles," said Buffy, "You gotta admit, you have kinda been our own personal harbinger guy."

The older man let out another disgruntled sigh. "Did it ever occur to you that I could be here just to see the baby? Or maybe that I'm moving back."

"Er…no," Giles frowned, "consider that a poorly chosen example. However, I am here to see the baby."

"And I received this package by post yesterday," he stated defeated, pulling an overnight FedEx envelope from his briefcase and removing from it a black feather and a handwritten note. "Dear Giles," he read aloud, "What does this mean? Love, Buffy. P.S. Willow had her baby." He set the two objects down on the table. "I would have preferred a phone call."

"Hey, we tried," the slayer said, defending herself, "Your line was busy and you don't have voicemail."

"It's a raven feather," said Tara, examining the object. "Buffy, where did you get this?"

"There's blood on it," the blonde noted softly. "The Raven is a totem animal of Morrigan," she explained, turning to her wife.

"Morrigan," Willow said in alarm. "I thought we bound her to that tree. Do you think she got out?"

"Back in college, when you went to visit Angel," the hacker illuminated, "Tara and I had a run in with Morrigan. We bound her to a tree."

"You tied someone to a tree in college and you're just now remembering them?" The slayer inquired.

"Not tied," Tara clarified, "Bound. Morrigan is a very powerful sorceress, sometimes considered to be a deity. We bound her essence to a tree when one of the Wicca Group members accidentally set her free on a murderous rampage."

"She's more than a sorceress," Giles interrupted. "She's a priestess of the goddess."

"Like Ghaena?" asked Willow, then adding, as realization dawned on her, "Or… exactly like Ghaena?"

"She has been acting weird recently," Tara commented, a terrible feeling sinking into the pit of her stomach.

"There's no way we can know for sure at this moment," said Giles, "But it is a possibility. How has she been acting strangely?"

"She's been putting a lot of pressure on Emily in her studies," Willow answered. "She was so patient before. But now that Michelle has been born… it's like she's on hyperdrive."

"It's important that we try and root out what Ghaena's ultimate intentions are," Giles pointed out. "She may just be trying to hasten Emily's training in order to protect the girl."

"Which isn't a bad thing," said Tara, "If that's what she really wants. But, if she's really Morrigan…"

"Emily could be in serious danger," Willow stated, picking up where her wife had left off. "So could we."

Ghaena walked into the small front lobby of her office, past the ever-vacant receptionist's desk and opened the door to her darkened exam room, and temporary living space. She lifted her hand to the light switch, and then paused.

"What are you doing here?" She said sternly to the figure sitting in the shadows of the room.

"Ghaena of the Mists," a deeply melodic female voice addressed her. "It has been a long while. I had hoped for a more gracious welcome."

The priestess strengthened her stance. "I was not gracious because you are not welcome," she bit out.

"Friend?" Ghaena questioned incredulously, "Is that what you are. I thought you were a traitor."

"I survived too, that's not the point," the brunette countered. "I still fought."

"No!" The woman said, rising from her seat, her face still I shadow. "Not like you. I can still be killed. Struck down. You can't."

"I fought that day as though I would die… as though I could," Ghaena spoke evenly, "You still ran. Ran away to your little convent. You forsook us."

"I did not forsake you," the lady defended, "I tried to keep us alive, in my own way."

Again, Ghaena nodded. "Morrigan…" She said after a moment, "You were my sister once. My sister in faith and practice. Knowing what you once were allows me to see past what you have become. But not far. You want to clear your name for what reason?"

"I want to go home," Morrigan responded, stepping into light that filtered through the office window, revealing her ebony black hair and flashing green eyes. "I want to go home to Avalon."

"Ghaena, you know as well as I that I am not guilty of the crimes for which I am being punished," Morrigan countered.

Morrigan took a step back, her face filling with an expression of shock and hurt. She looked almost as if she might cry, but steeled herself quickly before continuing. "My… it has been a long time hasn't it?" She said, her voice on the verge of breaking. "I never meant to hurt you," she spoke lowly, her eyes falling to examine the floor.

"What happened between us so long ago… was a mistake," the brunette muttered. "But it is not the reason why I am so… cold… to you now."

"No," Ghaena bit out, cutting her off. "You are not one of us. You haven't been since you ran."

"Then at least let me try to redeem myself," Morrigan begged. "She is free and must be stopped. I offer you my hand with my sword. I fight beside you now. I fight. I do not run. Not anymore."

Ghaena crossed to the window at the back of the office, slightly opening the blinds, allowing some more light to filter into the room. She stared out at the small view for a moment, lost in her thoughts.

"I never thanked you," she said softly, her gaze still trained through the glass. "For saving Adrianna. I should have thanked you."

"It was everything," Ghaena countered, turning to face her. She paused another moment to take a breath. "She's been watching them."

"Alright," Ghaena said, nodding her head in acceptance. "I will give you this chance for redemption. But whether or not you earn your right to Avalon… is not up to me. You must face the Goddess for that."

Crying would be too simple an adjective to describe what Michelle was doing at two-thirty in the morning. Wailing would certainly be more precise. Willow rolled over onto her stomach, trapping her pillow around her ears.

"Alright," Tara sighed, struggling out of bed. "But if she's hungry that's definitely a 'you' thing."

Tara leaned over the bassinet and lifted the distressed infant into her arms and cooing softly. "I thought you used that up for her last feeding," she said, turning back to the bed. She was about to ask again when she noted the slow and even rise and fall of Willow's chest. The exhausted redhead had already succumbed back to sleep. "Nevermind," she muttered.

Michelle had by now calmed to whimpering. Tara felt the baby's bottom and found the diaper to be full. She carried the baby into Emily's room where the changing table had been set up next to Michelle's vacant crib and delicately set the infant down, beginning to undo the soiled nappy.

Tara jumped a little before turning around. "Oh, sorry, baby, did Michelle wake you?

"No, I couldn't sleep," the little girl replied, lowering her voice to a whisper, "Big Bird's out there again."

"See the shadow on the wall?" Emily stated conspiratorially, pointing a tiny finger to the wall in front of Tara.

The blonde turned and examined the wall, taking a step back to see it more fully. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the silhouette of a raven's head profiled against the blue paint.

"Emily," she said as she quickly finished changing Michelle, "grab your pillow and blanket. You're sleeping with Mama and I tonight."

"Yes really," Tara responded, lifting Michelle off the table and into her arms. "Quickly, let's go…uh… you have school in the morning and should get some sleep." She amended quickly, not wanting to cause her older child alarm.

Emily nodded and climbed out of bed, dragging her pillow and blanket with her, following her mommy into the master bedroom. Tara gently placed the now sleeping Michelle back in her bassinet and turned to face Emily, whispering softly, "You got ahead and climb into bed with Mama, I'll be right back."

"Okay, Mommy," Emily whispered back, and carefully clambered into the large bed, curling up against Willow and watching Tara as she returned to the hallway outside the door.

The blonde made her way to the kitchen, picking the phone up out of its cradle and swiftly dialing.

"Hello, Buffy?" She asked softly, "Sorry to wake you… it's Morrigan… I think she's here."

Buffy came careening around the corner onto Willow and Tara's street, slowing her pace only as she grew even nearer to the couple's house, training her eyes to the shadows looking for anyone or anything suspicious.

"You!" She barked loudly, grabbing Ghaena by the throat and slamming her up against the tree the priestess had been hiding behind. "What are you doing here? What do you want with Emily? Who are you?"

The priestess tried to struggle but it was no use, with every shift the slayer's grip tightened like a boa constrictor.

"Ack…" she choked, "Pleas…ah…" After a moment, Ghaena ceased her resistance and closed her eyes, whispering quietly, "Solvo."

Inexplicably Buffy let go and took a step back, seemingly confused by her own actions. Ghaena took several deep recovery breaths before speaking. "Buffy, it's me. Don't you recognize me? It's Ghaena."

"What?" questioned Ghaena, still catching her breath. "No, Morrigan is not here." The priestess stepped aside of the slayer and looked up to the trees. "Damn, you scared her off."

"Willow and Tara told me," Buffy explained, "They bound her to a tree ten years ago. Now she's back with her vengeance game on."

"They bound her to a tree?" Ghaena puzzled. "She didn't mention that. Are you sure it was Morrigan that they bound?"

"What do you mean 'she didn't mention that'?" Buffy replied. "Have you been talking to her? Are you two in cahoots?"

"Buffy!" Tara called out, running over to the slayer from the front porch. She paused, eyeing Ghaena warily, "Are you Morrigan? Tell me the truth."

Ghaena paused a moment, seeing the fear and anger in the blonde wiccan's eyes. She would tell the truth, though Tara would not understand. "Yes," she stated simply.

"How can it not be?" Tara asked, cutting her off. "I have seen what Morrigan is, what she is capable of. You have put my entire family, my littlest things, in mortal danger. I cannot forgive you and I do not want to understand."

"Yes, you're family is in danger," Ghaena affirmed, "but not by Morrigan. By something much worse. Morrigan and I are in league together because we are trying to protect you."

"Enough," Tara snapped. "I trusted you. I convinced Willow to trust you. But now I find you spying outside my window, scaring my daughter. I know you are the raven. I've seen the feather."

Ghaena merely met her gaze, her expression that of apprehension, as if simply by mentioning the name, she risked damning them all.

"Whose?" the blonde wiccan asked again, more firmly, her jaw set in a defiant line.

"You will," Buffy said coldly, once again grabbing the priestess by the throat. "Or I swear to God I will beat you to the point where you wish you could die."

"What?" Buffy asked again… "First you say it isn't Morrigan, than you say it is."

"You keep saying the same name!" Buffy shouted, slamming the priestess against the tree at her back.

"Oof," she grunted. "Don't ye speak English? I'm not saying 'Morrigan'! I'm saying 'Morgan'!"

"It sounds the same to me!" Buffy spit out, giving the woman another sharp shake.

Suddenly a thought occurred to Tara and she stepped in between the two. "Stop!" she bellowed. Tara didn't usually bellow. In fact she never bellowed. So the fact that she had bellowed did not go unnoticed by the quarrelling women. They both went instantly silent, taking in the blonde with shared looks of shock and apprehension. "Buffy, take your hand off her neck," Tara now softly instructed. The slayer suddenly realized she still had Ghaena in a vice-grip.

"It's quite alright," Ghaena replied, rubbing her neck gingerly, and adjusting her green robes, which she had worn to keep out the chill of the California night.

"Aye, but I…Oh!" the priestess exclaimed, suddenly realizing what the wiccan was getting at. "Would either of you have a pen?" she inquired.

"No you don't," Buffy motioned, stepping in front of the brunette once again. "Tara will get the pen and you and I will wait here…patiently."

Ghaena only shrugged in submission. Tara looked back and forth between the two of them, hesitating to leave for fear they might be at each other's throats in a manner of seconds.

"Hey!" Tara bit out, cutting her off. "No fighting. I'll be right back." She paused again, watching them even more closely as she turned and hurried inside. Ghaena's eyes narrowed again, as did the slayer's. They regarded each other like cats about to pounce. Or toddlers who had stolen each other's toys only to realize they wanted their own back but were too stubborn to trade.

Tara shook her head tiredly as she spared one last glance in their direction as she disappeared inside. She quickly ran into the kitchen and grabbed a pen and paper, turning to go back into the hall she let out a small shriek, startled by Willow's presence standing in her way.

The two women recoiled, battle-ready, only to realize who it was in front of them.

"I could say the same thing about you," Willow replied, no longer sleepy as she had been just moments before. "What's going on? Why is Emily in our bed and you aren't?"

"Ghaena?" Willow asked with a squeak. "What's she doing here? Is she trying to take Emily?"

"No, I don't think so," her lover answered, "We're just trying to settle a misunderstanding."

Willow nodded, "I'll be right out, let me just grab my jacket. You should have one too."

"Will, stay with the kids," Tara gently implored, "Emily's already been scared once tonight. She doesn't need to wake up in bed alone."

"Okay," the redhead replied, practically whispering now. She leaned in and gave her wife a soft kiss on the lips. "I won't be able to sleep until you get back."

"I promise not to be long." Tara reached down and took Willow's hand, squeezing it once before heading back out the front door. Willow watched her go, and then yawned softly, returning to bed.

The wiccan arrived back on the front lawn to find Buffy and Ghaena having what appeared to be a civil conversation.

"So what you're saying," Ghaena surmised, "is that Ben was Glory and Glory was Ben."

"Exactly," Buffy answered, looking quite proud of herself, like a cat that got the canary.

"Fascinating," commented the priestess. "This isn't the same thing." She stated plainly after a moment's thought.

"Thank ye," the brunette said, then turned to Buffy, "Can I borrow yer shoulder a minute?"

Buffy eyed the woman warily. "Fine," she said after a pause, "But try anything stupid and…"

"I know, I know, ye'll beat me till I wished I could die…," Ghaena recited lamely. "Now turn around."

The slayer let out a low grunt of disapproval and did as told. Ghaena quickly placed the paper on the petite girl's shoulder and scrawled a shot message, handing it to Tara.

"Morrigan," Tara read aloud, "Priestess of Avalon, aspect of Badb, warrior goddess = NOT EVIL. Often confused with Morgan le Fay, Vivienne's sister, who conspired to and ultimately succeeded in bringing about the death of King Arthur and the destruction of Avalon = EVIL."

"No they aren't or no they are?" the slayer inquired, seeking further clarification.

Tara let this sink in a moment. "So… wait… then who did Willow and I bind to a tree?"

Ghaena let out a long sigh. "I don't know," she exhaled, "That's something I'll have to investigate. Where exactly is this tree?"

"Can't," the wiccan put down. "Will and I have a meeting at the school, for Emily."

"Alright," Ghaena interrupted, "You have your meeting, and Buffy and I will go."

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There You Are

By DarkWiccan

Darkwiccan23@yahoo.com