"Emily!" Tara cried out in fright at her child's cry, almost dropping Michelle as she handed her to Dawn, causing the tiny babe to let out a wail.

Dawn grasped hold of Michelle firmly as Tara went white with terror after calling out her older daughter's name. "Tara, what's wrong?"

"Tara? Baby?" Called out Willow as she came running in from the kitchen with a short list of emergency numbers for Buffy's sister.

"Emily just cried out to me with her mind," Tara replied near tears, "Will, she's in trouble."

"Let's go," the redhead firmly announced, heading straight for the front door. "Dawn, I have my cell phone on me."

"Right," said the younger woman, "Be careful."

The door slammed as the two women bolted from the residence.

*****

"I'm n-not supposed to talk about that," Emily told Ms. Henckle. Nothing would make her break her confidence with her parents. Not even fear.

"What sort of magic is it that you can't talk about?" the teacher pried.

"I'm not supposed to talk about it," she said even more firmly.

"Oh, c'mon," Ms. Henckle smiled, placing one hand on the edge of Emily's desk and the other at the back of her seat, effectively trapping the girl with her body. "It can be a secret. Just between you and me."

Emily started to try and wiggle away from her instructor, "Ms. Henckle you're…"

"AHEM!" came a loud voice from the classroom door. Ms. Henckle jumped up from her position, spinning around to see who was standing there.

"Ms. Henckle," said Counselor Geary, "What are you doing?" The attractive black woman stepped into the room. "Hello, Emily," she smiled.

"Hello," Emily replied, breathing a huge sigh of relief at the sight of her guidance counselor.

"Shouldn't you be at lunch?" the counselor asked her, allowing her eyes to fall to Ms. Henckle suspiciously.

"Ms. Henckle asked me to help grade p-papers," Emily answered.

"That's right," the teacher stated defensively.

Charlotte Geary narrowed her gaze a moment. Without letting her eyes off of Ms. Henckle, she spoke to Emily again. "Emily, wait out in the hall a moment. I'll be right with you."

"Yes, ma'am," said the young girl hastily as she leapt from her desk, collecting her books, and dashed toward the hall.

"Close the door behind you, please," Charlotte called after. Emily did so.

In the hallway, Emily clutched her book bag to her chest and leaned up against the wall next to the classroom door. She tried to steady her breathing as she slid down the wall, landing in a crouched sitting position on the floor. She could hear bits of the conversation going on in the classroom as the blood pounding in her ears began to abate.

"…rank stupidity," she heard Ms. Geary say. Obviously the end of a sentence.

"I was only trying to…"

"I don't care what you were trying to do," the counselor cut her teacher off. "Don't you ever do that again. The girl is scared out of her mind. Couldn't you see that?"

"I'm sorry." Came the answer.

"Yes, well…," Ms. Geary paused, "Come to my office after school. This conversation is not over."

There was silence, and Emily strained her small ears to hear further. Suddenly the classroom door opened causing her to jump and let out a small yelp in fear. Ms. Geary looked so very tall from her perspective on the floor.

"Oh, Emily," said the counselor, extending her hand, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Are you alright?"

Emily took Ms. Geary's hand and allowed the adult to pull her to a standing position. "Yes, I think so," she said, not able to shake the feeling of nervousness and fright that her encounter with Ms. Henckle had caused her.

Charlotte led Emily gently down the hallway of the school and out into the courtyard where her classmates were at lunch. The young girl looked up at the counselor confused as they kept walking past the lunchroom and all the way to the administration building.

"Ms. Geary?" She asked softly, "shouldn't I have stayed at lunch?"

"I think I have something in the office that will make you feel even better than one of your mother's famous sandwiches," Charlotte smiled, winking playfully at the little girl as they walked into the administrative offices.

"Hey munchkin!" called a familiar voice.

"Godmommy!" Emily cried out happily, rushing over to Buffy's waiting arms, allowing herself to be scooped up into the slayer's strong embrace.

"I just need you to sign a release form," the desk clerk said, sliding a clipboard across the counter top.

"I need to set you down for a moment, munchkin, so I can sign this," Buffy explained, putting her goddaughter down.

Emily grudgingly let go of Buffy's neck, clearly not happy with having to leave the safety of her arms.

"Emily?" Charlotte stated, kneeling down to the girl's height. Emily turned to face her. "I just want you to know that if you ever need to, I am here to talk. Okay? I'm on your team, you can trust me."

"Okay," Emily nodded softly. Charlotte reached up and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, before standing and excusing herself back to her office.

Emily stepped back over to Buffy's side, tangling her fingers in the tail of her godmother's shirt, wrinkling the edge.

"Easy on the material there, kiddo," the slayer said playfully as she turned to take Emily's hand now that she had finished signing her out of class. "What do you say we blow this joint?"

The young girl's eyes grew wide with shock. "But, there's still three classes left!"

"Three classes with Ms. Henckle," Buffy made clear, watching Emily's mood shift southward with the realization.

"Oh… yeah." Emily agreed, "But… it's still school. I can't miss school."

"Come on," Buffy urged, pulling the little redhead to the door, "Your Mama said it was okay. In fact, she ordered me to come and bring you home."

"Mama?" Emily asked in disbelief. Mama was the only person she knew who liked school as much as she did. That she would actually order her godmommy to get her out of class was… inconceivable. Yet still she allowed Buffy to lead her out of the office and off of school grounds. As they started down the street Emily looked up at the sound of her Mommy calling out her name.

"Emily!" Tara cried, breaking into a sprint as soon as she saw her daughter safe at Buffy's side.

"Mommy!" Emily answered, loosing her hand from Buffy's grip as she ran to meet her mother, her mama only a few steps behind.

Mother and daughter crashed into one another in a frenzy arms and legs as Tara lifted Emily up into a desperate embrace. Tara showered butterfly kisses all over Emily's face as the young girl clung to her neck.

"Oh, thank the Goddess you're safe," the blonde sighed into her daughter's hair.

Willow was now at her wife's side, caressing Emily's hair and trying to stifle the tears that she found rushing to her eyes. "Are you okay, baby-girl?" she asked, trying to keep a brave face for her child.

"I was so scared, Mama," Emily admitted, reaching out to Willow, seeking a comforting hug.

"Did you see the teacher?" Tara asked Buffy as she shifted Emily into her wife's arms.

"No, the guidance counselor brought her to the office," the slayer explained.

Tara nodded and turned her attention back to Emily and her lover. "Should we go home?"

"I told Xander we'd meet at his house after we got Emily." Willow answered, feeling Emily's legs tighten even more around her waist. "I think it's time for a Scooby meeting."

The blonde shook her head in agreement. "I'll stop by the house and get Michelle. Dawn will want to come too."

"Do you want me to go with you?" asked Buffy.

"No, stay with Emily," Tara stated, "I'll feel better knowing she and Will aren't on the streets alone."

"I love you," said Willow softly.

"I love you too," the wiccan replied, "I'll meet you at Xander's in half an hour."

*****

High up in a tree overlooking the grounds of Sunnydale Elementary, Ghaena and Morrigan sat perched on a branch, their eyes scanning the crowded courtyard as students and teachers bustled about.

"Do you see anything?" asked Morrigan.

"No," Ghaena replied, her eyes expertly training on one individual, then another, slowly disqualifying them. "Do you know what she looks like?"

"Yes," Morrigan answered, "I saw Emily's class photo for last year on the wall. She's supposed to have the same teacher."

"Yes," the brunette acknowledged.

"There she is!" Morrigan pointed excitedly as Ms. Henckle emerged into the crowded yard, heading quickly to the administration building.

Ghaena followed her companion's indicative finger and focused hard on the woman, examining her closely.

"Are you sure?" she said after a moment.

"Yes."

"Quite, quite sure?" Ghaena clarified, her brow creasing.

"Yes, Ghaena, that's her," Morrigan affirmed. "I'd swear by it."

"That is Emily's teacher?" she asked again.

"Yes!" the dark-haired priestess responded, her tone growing in frustration. Then suddenly, her tone changed to that of worry. "Why? Don't you think…"

"Take a good hard look, Morrigan and you tell me," Ghaena challenged.

Morrigan looked down upon Ms. Henckle, and felt her shoulders slump in disappointment as she saw what Ghaena was referring to.

"She's not trustworthy," the older priestess granted her, "That's made evident enough by the color of her aura. But the fact that I can see her aura only proves…"

"That she's not Le Fay," Morrigan finished. "Dammit! We're right back where we started from."

"Not necessarily," Ghaena offered, "I have a feeling she's working for the witch. Track her tonight."

"What will you do?" Morrigan queried.

The priestess let out a long sigh. "Unwelcome though I may be, my place is with the child," Ghaena replied. "She is growing more powerful and needs more protection. Particularly if Le Fay instructed one of her followers to make a move. You know how to reach me should I be needed." She grasped Morrigan's forearm with her hand, and felt her companion do the same. "Goddess keep you. Avalon's time is growing near." With that Ghaena gave Morrigan's arm one last squeeze before dropping out of the tree to the earth below.

"Goddess keep you, friend," Morrigan spoke softly after, before returning her gaze to the building wherein Ms. Henckle had disappeared.

*****

Willow sat in the corner of Xander and Anya's living room, Michelle tucked in her arms, quietly nursing, while the rest of the room had erupted into a flurry of activity. Tara had arrived with Dawn and Michelle about twenty minutes earlier, quickly followed by the arrival of Ghaena and everyone had swiftly fallen into argument over what to do next.

"I don't see what's so crazy about pulling Emily out of school," said Xander. "It's not like she's safe there, and it's not like she doesn't have two of the smartest parents on the planet to home-school her."

"Because it would be too obvious to Le Fay that we were on to her," countered Buffy.

"And what is wrong with that?" asked Xander. "Why is it so bad that Le Fay knows we know what she is up to?"

"This way we have a better chance of catching Ms. Henckle unaware," the slayer explained.

"That's a perfectly good theory," agreed Ghaena, "That is it would be if Ms. Henckle were in fact Le Fay."

"You mean she's not?" said Tara, turning to face the priestess.

"That's correct," stated the brunette.

"Then who is?" asked Buffy, "Do you know?"

"I'm afraid not. Suffice it to say that it is not Emily's teacher."

"I don't understand how she can't be," commented Tara. "I mean, she scared Emily so badly that she cried out to me with her mind. That's never happened before." She looked the priestess right in the eye. "If you could have felt how terrified she was… I never want her to be that afraid again."

"I wish I could promise you that she won't be," said Ghaena, her head bowed low. "But I cannot. I don't doubt that it was Le Fay's influence that caused the incident today. I believe that Ms. Henckle may be under the witch's employ. It's obvious that Morgan has sensed how powerful your daughter is becoming and is looking to take advantage of that fact. I fear that I would not be wrong to say that what happened today, is only the beginning."

*****

In Joseph's small bedroom, the young boy watched his best friend make no attempt to stifle the streams of silent tears pouring over her cherubic face. Emily had not stopped crying since the argument in the living room had begun. Joe's room was right next door to it, and Emily could easily hear everything that was being said about her and her teacher.

It was times like this that Joseph really hated not being able to hear what was going on around them. He knew there was some sort of fight going on in the next room because he could feel the floor beat with pacing footsteps. Occasionally, he would place his hand on the wall and he could make out the bass and treble vibrations of varying volume levels of voices coming through the sheet rock. Yet still he had no idea what the argument was about. And even if he could hear it, he knew that he probably wouldn't understand it. Big people tended to use big words with even bigger meanings and although he knew a lot for a boy his age, there was still a lot for him to learn. And he knew it.

Finally, he couldn't stand to watch Emily cry any longer, so he went over and tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

She shook her head at him. She wanted to be alone.

Joseph wasn't in the mood to take "No" for an answer. He tapped her shoulder again.

Emily looked up at him angrily signing, 'Go!' before drawing her knees up to her chest so that her body became a tight ball.

The little boy's face took on as angry a scowl has he could muster and he put his two small hands on her knees, trying to push them back down. Emily firmly resisted, trying to ignore the annoying activity. This only caused Joseph to grow even more frustrated and he found himself climbing up to sit on top of the girl's knees, bouncing hard enough on them to finally forced them down onto the floor, Emily's legs now in a straight line in front of her which Joseph atop them.

Emily now tried to push the boy off of her, but Joseph somehow found it in himself to resist her older-kid sized strength. He made several attempts to lean forward against her, but she kept holding him back. Finally, he sat back on his haunches, still over her legs, and stared at her a long moment before swiftly reaching in and pinching her side hard.

"Ow!" she shouted out, the action catching her off-guard long enough for Joseph to dive forward and wrap his small arms around her in a tight hug, staying there.

Emily stayed still. She wanted to be angry at him for pinching her and not leaving her alone. But she just couldn't hold her anger for very long. Especially with him hugging her so tightly. Because she knew that, in his own way, Joseph was trying to make it impossible for her to feel bad. She knew that there was no way that he could know what was going on, or that she had figured out that it was all somehow her fault.

As if reading her mind, Joseph sat up a little and looked his friend in the eye, slowly signing, so that the words held more emphasis, 'Not you.'

Emily nodded sadly, raising her hands between them. 'Yes it is.'

Joseph shook his little head in disagreement. 'No. Big people fight. It is not you.'

'It's me they are fighting about', Emily explained.

'Did you break a rule?' he asked.

'No.'

'Then how can it be your fault?' He queried, 'If you didn't do anything bad?'

Emily smiled weakly. 'You don't understand', she signed, 'You're too little.'

Joseph raised his little chin defiantly. 'So are you', he countered, and dove back in to hug his friend again.

This time, she hugged him back.

*****

Willow was in a world of her own. Although her mind continued to process the argument going on around her, he body and heart were completely attuned to Michelle as the young babe continued to suckle hungrily at her breast. Willow's mind involuntarily thought back to when Emily was just an infant and the many times the redhead had looked on intently as Tara nursed their baby daughter. How covetous she had been of both of them, of the intimacy shared only by a mother and her child.

She had not been prepared for the jealousy; she had assumed that watching her lover breastfeed would have almost the opposite effect. Willow had worried that she would only see Tara's breasts as feeding implements rather than objects of sexual desire. But she had been wrong. While watching Tara nurse Emily hadn't exactly turned her into a pile of warm wet goo, after all, this was her wife and daughter she had been watching so intently, it had caused her to desire the same connection with Tara. The maternal connection; she had wanted Tara to coddle her, to hold her, and yes to even nurse her too. And on a couple of rare occasions, she had even gotten her wish.

It wasn't that Willow felt that Emily had been usurping her role with Tara. Not at all. Willow had merely wanted to somehow be a part of it all. Now she was, more than she ever could have imagined she would be. Certainly by now it had become a scheduled routine, a chore to be done: time to feed the baby. But even so, it still hadn't lost its intimacy, its closeness… its magic. Willow smiled as Michelle reached up a tiny hand and pressed it against her swollen breast, trying to encourage more milk to let down. Somebody's hungry, she thought to herself.

It amazed her how much nursing Michelle consistently calmed her down. She had always joked that only one thing could stop the noise in her head, and while that activity did have a tendency to stop all thought completely, the act of breastfeeding seemed to calm her mind to a point where she could actually think more clearly instead of not at all. She was taking advantage of that fact right now.

The room seemed almost cacophonous with everyone voicing their own opinions about what should be done. Willow had realized quite quickly that Emily could probably hear everything that was going on through the wall to Joseph's room. She knew that her little girl was probably blaming herself for all of this, and Willow decided right then and there that such a thing just wouldn't do. She adjusted the baby blanket she had draped over her shoulder, making sure it still covered her breast and Michelle's head, and softly spoke up.

"Stop, everyone. Stop, please."

The bustle of the room came to a slow halt, all eyes slowly turning to Willow with concerned glances.

"Sorry, Will," said Xander, "Are we disturbing Michelle?"

"It's not Michelle I'm worried about," answered Willow, "It's Emily."

"We all are," stated Buffy, "That's why we're trying to find a way to..."

"Stop Le Fay," the redhead finished for her. "I know. But that's the problem. This shouldn't be about stopping Le Fay. It should be, and I know that Tara will agree with me I on this, it should be about keeping our daughter safe from harm."

Tara nodded vigorously and moved to join her wife, standing by her side. Buffy approached the couple, looking a little perplexed. "Exactly," she said, "and part of keeping Emily safe is getting rid of this Le Fay character."

"I not just talking about her physical safety," Willow went on, "I'm talking about her emotional safety too. Do you really think that she can't hear everything that we're saying in here? She's only in the room next door. If you think she isn't in there blaming herself for all of this, then you really don't know anything about her, or about us. She may not be a little baby anymore, but she still depends on us, all of us, to provide a safe haven. And right now she's in there listening to us argue what to do about her rather than what to do for her."

"What can I do for her, Willow, except what I am best at: Stop the Bad Guy," Buffy countered. "And that is what I am trying to do for Emily. Stop the bad guy."

"And don't think we don't appreciate that," said Tara, "But Buffy, do you even know how? Before you rush off into battle, we're faced with several problems. Like who Le Fay is and where her weaknesses are."

"I know at least one person here who might should have the answers to those questions, that is if she is willing to share them," said the slayer, pointedly looking at Ghaena.

The priestess nodded, and cleared her throat to speak. "The only way to destroy Morgan Le Fay is to raise Avalon from the mists. As far as who Le Fay is masquerading as, that I do not know."

"So then we give those pesky mists some proactive rollback action," suggested Xander.

"Only Emily can raise the enchanted isle, and even then only when she is ready," stated Ghaena.

"When is she going to be ready?" asked Anya.

"Only she will know for sure," replied the brunette.

"So what you're telling us," Buffy surmised, "is that there is nothing we can do."

"No, that's not what she is saying," said Tara. "She's just saying we can't raise Avalon. That doesn't mean we can't do anything else."

"The most important thing along with keeping Emily safe is trying to maintain a level of normalcy for her," said Willow. "She sees all of us freaking out, and it's only going to freak her out too. And as for pulling her out of school," she continued, looking at Xander, "if we do that she'll think that we're punishing her."

"But, Willow..." he started to protest.

"You're right," she interrupted him, "she isn't safe, and I don't want her to go back there either."

"So what should we do?" Tara questioned her.

"What about private school?" offered Anya.

"Yeah," Willow conceded, but the only private school in Sunnydale is 'Our Lady of the Saints'."

"You mean the Catholic school!?" Tara blurted out.

"It's a perfectly good school," defended Anya, "for anyone who isn't religiously intolerant."

"We aren't intolerant of them, Anya," Tara explained, "It's just, they tend to be intolerant of us. Do you really think they would allow a lesbian couple, one of whom is Jewish and the other one Wiccan, to enroll a child in their school?"

"I can see the enrollment interview now," the redhead commented wryly. "Not to mention the fact that private school is expensive. I make a pretty decent living with my job, but I'm the only income for our family, and now that it's gotten a little larger with Michelle, I just don't think we could afford it."

"So once again we are back at square one," Buffy sighed, slumping down into the couch.

"I think we should let Emily decide what she wants to do," offered Willow.

"I agree," stated Tara.

The rest of the Scoobies and Ghanae could see that the couple was firm in their decision to let their child be the one to make the final choice in regards to her immediate situation.

"Alright," said Ghaena, "what shall we do for tonight then?"

"It's almost dinner time," said Tara, "I suppose it would be best to stay here…."

"I was going to order pizza," announced Xander. Willow and Tara both tried their best to stifle their grimace.

"It's Tuesday and therefore pizza night," Anya explained.

Tara leaned in and whispered in her lover's ear, "I've got some chicken defrosting at home and some fresh vegetables in the fridge. I'd rather Emily had a more nutritious dinner than pizza, and you too for that matter."

Willow nodded her head in agreement, turning to whisper back, "Sounds good. Plus I think it would be better for her to be at home."

"Is the bench conference over with?" asked Buffy, curious to know what her friends were discussing.

The redhead looked up to the slayer, "Tara and I both think it's best we be at home tonight."

"Willow, are you sure," queried Xander, "I mean, you think you guys will be safe enough there? Everyone's already here and on guard, we can sleep in shifts if we have to."

"I don't think that will be necessary," stated Ghaena, "I have a feeling today's event may have been an isolated one. Le Fay may only have been testing the waters to see how difficult getting the child would ultimately be. I wouldn't vote against a certain level of precaution, but I agree with her mothers' decision to try and keep things as normal for Emily as possible."

"Thank you, Ghaena," said Tara, truly grateful. Willow squeezed her wife's hand to get her attention; the two shared a quick and silent communication before the redhead turned back to the slayer. "Buffy, if you would like to join us for dinner, and maybe the night too, you're more than welcome to."

Tara and Willow both recognized and appreciated Buffy's need to be proactive, they knew that by extending this invitation, they were helping her to feel more useful and less helpless about the situation.

"Count me in," Buffy smiled, "what's for dinner tonight?"

"Baked chicken and steamed vegetables," Tara replied.

"Mmmm, scrumdiddliumscious." The petite blonde approved. "Of course, Willow will be getting the breast portion," she added, before catching herself, "I mean… BEST portion."

"It's okay, Buffy," Willow giggled, "Tara knows the breasts are my favorite part." Her lover sent her a playful yet reproachful glance while trying to stifle her own set of giggles.

"Yes, well, on that note of way too much information," Buffy blushed, moving to the hall, "I'm going to go collect the munchkin." The slayer practically ran into the wall trying to get out of the room.

*****

Emily sat in the warm bath with her knees bent up to her chest while Willow gently scrubbed her back with a soft, soapy washcloth. The girl had been quiet after leaving Xander's house, even falling asleep during the car-ride home, having exhausted herself with crying and worry. They had thought about just carrying her into bed for the night, but Willow and Tara both agreed that she shouldn't go to bed on an empty stomach. So now Willow was helping Emily with her bath as Buffy accompanied Tara who was busy making dinner in the kitchen.

"After this," said Willow, "you can have some dinner and when you're finished with that you can brush your teeth and go to bed, okay?" Emily only nodded mutely. "Are you sure?" Willow asked, raising her eyebrows in concern. Emily shook her head. "What would you rather do?" she pried. Emily just shrugged her shoulders.

Willow hated it when her daughter went nonverbal. It was so unlike her and therefore always served as evidence that she was deeply upset about something, and in this case Willow had a pretty good idea what that "something" was.

"You want to, maybe, play a game after dinner?" she offered.

Emily looked up at her Mama, her eyes brightening just a little bit. Willow felt herself start to relax a little at the welcome change.

"Would you like to play a game of chess?" Emily shook her head. "Monopoly?" No. "Candyland?" No, again. "Trivial Pursuit?" And once more, no. "Well, Emily, help me out a little bit here," said Willow, "what would you like to play?"

"Cards," came the small reply.

"Cards," Willow repeated. "You mean like 'Go Fish'?"

"No," answered Emily, "the game that Godmommy taught me."

"The game that…," Willow started, trying to remember what card game Emily was referring to. Then it came to her. "Uh, sweetie, I don't think that Mommy would approve if she saw her eight year old daughter playing five card stud."

"Yes she would," Emily countered, suddenly gaining some energy, "We've played before."

"You and Mommy have played poker?" the older redhead asked, slightly alarmed.

"Yeah, only it's not as much fun as playing with Godmommy," Emily explained.

"Why is that?"

"Mommy won't let me bet loose change." The little girl grumbled.

It took all of Willow's willpower not to let out the large guffaw that had threatened to erupt at the unintentional hilariousness of her daughter's statement.

"Okay," said Willow, "you can ask her if it's okay for you to play cards after dinner. Maybe she'll want to play too. We can play for points instead of change, alright?"

"Okay," Emily agreed, though it was clear she didn't cotton too much to the idea of playing for points.

"Good," her Mama stated, "Now turn your head so I can clean behind your other ear."

*****

"Dinner looks great, Tara," complimented Buffy as she helped to finish laying out the utensils on the dining room table.

"Thanks, Buffy," she replied, bringing out a large dish filled with steamed vegetables and setting it on the table. "I just didn't feel like pizza tonight. What did you want to drink?"

"Don't worry about it, I'll get it," said the slayer. "And I know what you mean about not wanting pizza. I'm mean, it's Tuesday, isn't pizza more of a Friday thing?"

"I guess," Tara conceded.

Buffy decided to switch gears a little, "Are you going to let Emily go to school tomorrow?"

Tara paused, halfway out of the kitchen, her hands full with a plate of baked chicken. "I don't know. Willow and I really haven't discussed it yet. We'll probably keep her out of school tomorrow, just so we have a little more time to figure out what we're doing."

"What about…I mean, I know it might be difficult to get past the whole religion thing… but," Buffy wasn't quite sure if she was phrasing things right. "I mean, private school didn't sound like too bad an idea. With it being, private, and everything."

"Buffy, believe me, it has nothing to do with the school being Catholic," Tara assured her. "It would depend on what their rules are for admitting students. If they have certain… policies… that would prevent the child of a same sex couple from attending, I don't think that either Willow or myself would be willing or able to 'go back in the closet' so to speak with our family life. We're far too involved in keeping up with Emily's education, and we like being that way. Plus, money is also an issue."

"But then why don't… I mean," Buffy always feared offending Tara. Deep down the slayer sort of felt that Willow's wife was a little too… wifely. At times when she visited Willow and Tara's home, she would feel like she had walked into a lesbian version of "Leave It To Beaver," of course, now that she thought about it, the sitcom title did seem strangely appropriate.

While Buffy had never thought of herself as a champion feminist, at least she had a job…sort of. Slaying had never really paid the bills, until three years back when Giles had finally been able to convince the council to start paying her a modest salary. It had been quite a struggle, but Giles had finally made the council see that with an older, more successful slayer who is no longer reliant on her family to support her financially there comes a necessity for compensating the slayer for her efforts.

"It's just that…," Buffy continued to struggle for words, "Tara, do you know that as long as I have known you… you've never…uh…"

"Had a real job?" Tara offered.

"Right," the slayer exhaled as she blushed deep red.

Tara chuckled a little bit. "Buffy, you don't have to worry about offending me. What are friends for if not being able to tell someone what you really think?"

"I just didn't want you to think that I didn't think you were pulling your weight or anything…"

"I know that's not what you mean, Buffy," Tara guaranteed her. "It's not like I had planned on being a housewife," she explained, "but Willow and I have just settled into our own roles in our relationship. I had planned on working when Willow and I had finished college, back after we had finally gotten engaged, I mean, other than helping out at the Magic Box. But somehow, time just got away, and next thing I know we're married and I'm pregnant with Emily. I had always known that if I ever had kids I would want to stay home with them until they were old enough to go to school, and I had started looking into getting a job after Emily began first grade. But we were doing just fine on the one income and then Willow started working at home full time; it was nice having the place to ourselves for most of the day. We enjoyed the freedom. And now that Michelle has come along, it's sort of back to square one. Willow is still making enough that we can live comfortably and my not working hasn't ever been an issue. I know that Willow would never try to stop me from working if I really wanted to, or even if I had to, I wouldn't balk at the idea."

"I'm not suggesting that you would," Buffy clarified.

"I'm not saying that you're suggesting it," Tara smiled, "Willow and I have a routine and it's functional and we like it. That's all."

"I get it," Buffy smiled back.

Willow entered the dining room carrying Emily on her hip. "Wow, something smells good," she said, walking over to

Tara and kissing her lightly on the lips. "Thanks for cooking, baby," she said softly.

"You're welcome, darling," Tara replied. She looked up into her daughter's sweet face as she still clung to Willow's side, "How are you doing, sweetie?"

"Better now," Emily admitted. "You didn't make the drinks yet, did you?"

"Buffy got hers on her own, but the rest of us still need them," Tara replied as Willow set Emily down. "I set three glasses out on the counter for you to fill."

"What would you like to drink, Mommy?" Emily asked, eager to play her part in dinnertime.

"I think I'd like some of the iced tea from the fridge," she answered.

"Mama?"

"Milk please," Willow smiled.

"Coming right up!" she said and zipped into the kitchen.

"Slow down and carry them one at a time to the table!" Tara called after her.

Buffy laughed quietly to herself thinking, If this scene were anymore idyllic, they'd have to film it in black and white and sell it to Nick at Nite.

*****

Dinner was pleasant, and after everyone had helped with the clean-up, and Tara had checked to make sure Michelle was still sleeping quietly in her crib, they had all retired to the living room to play a round or two of cards. Willow gave Buffy a particularly pointed look when she saw her friend start to dig into her pocket for spare change when it was announced they would be playing poker.

"Points," she had said to Buffy, "We play for points."

"Points?" Buffy questioned initially, then realization dawned on her, "OH. Points. Right. Of course, points is the only way to play. The only and, might I add, correct way to play. I mean, playing for money is just silly and wrong, very, very wrong…"

"Buffy," Tara laughed, "It's okay. Let's just play."

It turned out that Emily was quite the little card shark. If they had been playing for money, all of them would have been very poor, except for Emily who would have had been able to start a small college fund from her winnings.

"Okay," Willow announced, "it's nine 'o' clock. All little girls named Emily should be in bed."

"Do I have to?" Emily protested.

"Do I even have to answer that question?" Willow replied.

Emily shook her head, "No." She got up from the coffee table and started out of the room.

"Brush your teeth first," reminded Tara.

"I know," her little girl said, pausing a moment at the hall. "Am I going to school tomorrow?"

Willow and Tara shared a quick glance, the blonde looking back at her, "We're not sure yet. We'll let you know in the morning, alright?"

Emily nodded sullenly.

"Baby-girl," said Willow, "You are not in any kind of trouble and if we were to keep you out of school it wouldn't be to punish you. We just need you to be safe."

"I know," she said again. "Goodnight Godmommy," Emily waved.

"Night, munchkin. I'll see you in the morning."

"Night, Mommy, Mama, I love you."

"We love you too," answered Tara, "Good night, sweetie."

Emily gave one final wave and disappeared down the hall.

*****

"Mommy," Emily whispered, nudging softly at her sleeping mother's shoulder. "Mommy?" she quietly said again.

Tara opened her eyes to see her daughter standing next to the bed. "Emily?" she said sleepily, glancing at the digital clock on her bedside table. "Emily, it's three-thirty in the morning. Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I have to go."

Tara slumped back into her pillow, "Sweetie, you are old enough to use the bathroom by yourself."

"No, not that." Emily answered. "I have to go."

"Go… I don't understand," Tara stated, sleep still fogging her brain.

Emily looked her mother directly in the eye and said in total seriousness:

"I have to go to Avalon. I have to go now."

*****

Ghaena awoke with a start. She sat up, quickly throwing the covers off of her as she leapt out of bed and over to wear Morrigan was sleeping on the couch.

"Up!" she bellowed at the sleeping woman. "Up! Up with you now!" She yanked the blanket from off of the slumbering form. Morrigan jumped awake.

"Ah! What is it?" the dark-haired woman asked, sitting up.

"Sh!" Ghaena commanded. "Listen," she said, angling her head so that her right ear was turned up to the air. "Do ye hear it?"

Morrigan sat silently for a moment, listening as well. She grabbed Ghaena's arm in alarm, "The call."

Ghaena only nodded, "The child is ready."

*****

"Willow. Willow, wake up!" Tara practically yelled, shaking her wife out of her dreams. Slowly, the redhead came around.

"What is it baby," she asked. "What's wrong?"

"Emily," her mother said, turning back to her, "Tell your mama what you just told me."

"I have to go to Avalon now, Mama," Emily said with a certainty beyond her years. "It's time."

"What?" Willow yelped, turning on the bedside lamp as she struggled to sit up from her tangled position under the covers. "No. No, no. No Emily, not… time. It can't be time. You're too young… how do you know," she asked in a rushed and panicked voice.

"I know." Emily replied.

"How?" The redhead pressed, her tone almost becoming angry.

"I just know, Mama," Emily answered, upset that she had upset her parents so badly.

"Emily," Tara said firmly, "who told you it was time?"

"The ancients," answered Ghaena, who suddenly appeared in the room.

"Jesus Christ!" Willow cried out, so startled was she by the priestess's entrance.

"Interesting that a Jew should call out to the most holy Christian martyr," said an amused Morrigan as she filed into the couple's bedroom behind the elder priestess.

"Buffy!" Tara called out.

"Let her sleep," said Ghaena, "this does not concern the slayer."

"What I am killing?!" Buffy yelled as she came careening into the room, battle-ready. "What are you two doing here?" she asked the two women. "More importantly, how did you get in?"

"It is alright, warrior," soothed Morrigan, "Stay your hand. We are here to help."

"It's okay, Godmommy," said Emily, going to Buffy and taking her hand. "It's almost over."

"Somebody want to give me the Cliff's Notes version of what is going on?" Buffy queried.

"I need to go to Avalon now," the young girl explained.

"What?!" said the slayer.

"No." stated Tara. "NO! No, Ghaena! She is only eight years old! She's only a baby! You can't…"

"STOP!" Ghaena bellowed, startling everyone in the room. Michelle could be heard beginning to cry in Emily's room down the hall. The priestess looked to Buffy and said softly, "Tend to the infant." The slayer only looked at her. Unwilling to move. "Please," Ghaena added after a moment. Buffy looked to Willow and Tara for the "okay". The two women hesitantly nodded and Buffy moved to the hall.

"Hurt them," Buffy said, staring Ghaena down, "and I don't care if you're immortal, I will break you in ways that will cause you to live in pain for the next five centuries."

Ghaena nodded in a manner similar to a small bow as the slayer excused herself the rest of the way out of the room. The brunette turned back to Tara and spoke in a calm and even tone. "Stop your frenzied worrying and just listen for a moment. You are my descendant and should be able to hear what I do. What Emily does. Just stop a moment and… hear."

Tara did stop, and she did listen… and she heard.

"Baby?" said Willow, "What is it?"

"Whispers," answered Tara. "Voices. Almost… almost like singing. I don't understand the language… it… it sounds almost… like Gaelic?"

"It's Elvish," Ghaena illuminated. "The root of the Gaelic language."

"Who is it?" asked Tara, "What's doing it?"

"It's the Ancients," said Morrigan, once more joining the conversation. "The priestesses of Avalon. The ones who were left behind on the isle when it faded. They are singing for their freedom. They are calling out to the child."

"They know she is ready," Ghaena finished.

"It's okay Mommy, Mama," Emily whispered, "I know what I have to do."

"We must make for Avalon immediately," the brunette pressed.

"Wait a minute!" Willow shouted. "Hello? Avalon is in another country! We can't just up and leave in the middle of the night. We have a two-month old baby and Emily has school and we don't even know what the weather is like there! I mean, this sort of thing takes planning! Years and years of planning. Maybe when Emily is older… I don't know… like thirty…"

"The journey is far from arduous," Ghaena assured her. "We can travel through the mists and arrive before the day is out. Time is of the essence. If you are concerned for your wee one, you may stay behind and care for her while we are gone."

"No." Willow stated firmly. "Not an option. This is my family. MY family! And I go where they go. I am not just going to sit here while you take my wife and child into weird misty peril."

"We don't have time for this," complained Morrigan, turning to Willow. "Decide what you are going to do and do it quickly. We are not the only ones who hear the Ancients cry. Le Fay has heard it too by now, which means that she knows… Emily is in far more danger now than she has ever been in. Le Fay will stop at nothing to prevent Avalon from being raised, up to and including, taking the child's life."

Willow looked into Tara's eyes. "Maybe we could leave Michelle with my mom."

"We can't," answered Tara, "you're still nursing."

"Then we all go," said Willow, "including Buffy."

The married couple looked up at the two priestesses. Morrigan and Ghaena shared a quick glance. "That is fair," Morrigan conceded. "Get dressed. We leave now."

*****

"Yes," said Ms Henckle as the phone conversation drew to an end. "Yes, I understand... Of course.. it's just that... please forgive my ignorance, my Lady, but isn't she still too young?...So this is the Goddess's way of trying to sneak around behind your back... I see... But... Well, yes... but... there's just one thing more I don't quite understand...If you could just explain to me..."

*****

"...why we are driving to Vegas?" Willow asked for the third time since they had left Sunnydale and headed north toward Nevada.

"For the last time" Ghaena sighed, "we are NOT driving to Vegas. I only mentioned the damn city so that you would know which freeway to take."

"Language." Tara warned from her end seat in the middle row of the van, next to Michelle in her car seat and a sleeping Emily on the other side. Buffy and Morrigan took up the back row.

"Sorry," Ghaena apologized perfunctorily.

"Which brings up another question," Willow went on, gripping the steering wheel even more tightly, "why are we taking the freeway to Avalon?"

"We aren't taking the freeway to Avalon," Ghaena explained. "We are taking the freeway to a point of mystical convergence where we shall travel through the mists to the place where Avalon formerly resided."

"And the mystical convergence is in Las Vegas?" the redhead tried to clarify.

"No!" Ghaena groaned, smacking her hand to her forehead. "No. Just... forget about Las Vegas, alright? I never mentioned it. Vegas bad. No Vegas. Just stay on this road until I tell you otherwise."

"Fine," Willow bit out, "but just so you know, we're going to have to stop soon, or at least switch drivers."

"What for?" asked Ghaena.

"It's almost time for Michelle's morning feeding," Tara explained.

"Oh yes, of course." said the priestess, "I'm sorry, please forgive me. With everything that is going on, I had forgotten." The brunette paused a moment before continuing, "But it really would be best to keep going. Perhaps Tara could drive, or Buffy."

Buffy was just about to respond when she was interrupted. "NO!" Willow and Tara both barked at the same time. Tara recovered first. "That is, uh, I'd rather do it. Our insurance only covers Will and I."

"That and I was just about to say," began Buffy, "That I am a really bad driver and no one in their right mind should trust me behind the wheel, especially with small children involved."

Tara turned toward Buffy apologetically. "I'm sorry, Buffy. It's not that we think you're a bad driver exactly…"

"It's okay," she replied, "I know that I give 90 year old grandmothers a good name when it comes to operating a motor vehicle. I've accepted it. I am one with it. I was just never meant to drive."

Morrigan shifted a little in her seat. "You know, it's odd that you're a bad driver. Given that you have enhanced reflexes, sight and hearing… you'd think you'd be made for it."

"One would think," Buffy sighed.

"One would also think that is it odd that the same light pink car has been following us for the past half hour," the ebony-haired priestess went on to add.

"What?!" said Willow, looking in the rear view mirror even as the rest of her passengers turned to look out the back window to spy a very old 1998 faded pink Geo Prism behind them.

"Anybody recognize it?" Buffy asked of the group.

"I do," snarled Willow. "That's Ms. Henckle's car. I saw it the other day in the school parking lot."

"Are you sure it's her?" asked Tara.

The small vehicle suddenly accelerated, pulling up tight on the van's bumper, Ms. Henckle's face plainly in sight behind the wheel.

"It's her," Morrigan confirmed.

"What should we do?"

"Drive faster," instructed Ghaena, "we're nearing the beginning of the mists. If we make it there first, we might be able to lose her there."

"Mists?" said Buffy, "where?"

"There," said Willow, pointing out the front window and up to a thick blanket of fog that sat nestled into the mountainside, the freeway cutting through the terrain and into the mists above.

"I know this," said Tara, "it's the El Cajon Pass. We're taking the Cajon Pass to Avalon?"

"It's a means to an end," Ghaena noted.

"Well yes but—"

Tara was suddenly cut off as the van was struck from behind.

"She's ramming us!" Buffy called out.

"In that little spec of a car?!" stated Willow incredulously. "Is she crazy?"

"Well… yes." confirmed Morrigan, still preternaturally stone-faced.

"Remind me when this is over," said Willow, "to give you Oz's phone number."

"Pardon?"

"Nevermind," grumbled the redhead. "Hold on everyone, it's about to get bumpy."

"Willow, be careful," her wife cautioned.

"I will, baby," she promised. "I will."

Willow slammed down on the accelerator causing the van to lurch forward with increased speed. She swerved in and out of the lanes through traffic in an effort to lose their pursuer.

"Faster, Will!" Buffy cried out. "She's gaining on us!"

"If I go any faster I'll lose control," said the redhead, "the steering wheel is already shaking my arms off."

"She's getting closer," Morrigan noted calmly. Willow's shoulders tensed as she tightened her hold on the wheel.

"You're almost to the mists," Ghaena spoke soothingly. "Just get us there. We can lose her once we are inside the fog."

Willow nodded, setting her jaw in a determined line. She glanced up into the rearview mirror, but found her vision blocked by Morrigan and the slayer staring out the back window. "Where is she now?," she asked.

"She's falling back". said the priestess.

"It has to be some sort of a trick," stated Buffy, "A tactic or something."

"I don't think so," answered Morrigan, "Unless she is strategically causing her car to overheat and stall. But I don't see the point of that. Do you?"

"It could still be a trick," Buffy pouted.

Everyone in the van breathed a sigh of relief as Willow slowed their speed slightly as they entered the dense fog bank on the mountainside. The interior of the vehicle became eerily quiet as everyone looked out to the gray-white blanket enfolding them.

"Wasn't much of a car chase, was it," said Morrigan, breaking the silence.

"What?" asked Willow, perplexed.

"It wasn't anything like those 48 Hour movies," the priestess explained. "I'm a bit disappointed." She sighed contemplatively and stared off into the fog.

"For someone who doesn't say much you sure do talk alot," jibed Buffy.

Silence once again fell over the vehicle until Tara decided to speak up. "Well, I'm glad it wasn't any more intense than it was. Especially with the babies in the car."

"You better not let Emily hear you calling her a baby," Buffy smiled tenderly.

As if on cue, the young redhead stirred from her slumber. She slowly opened her eyes, blinking them a few times and squinting in the day's light, the glare increased by the bright white of the mist around them. She lazily sat up in her seat and looked around.

"Mommy?" she said in a small voice.

"Yes, sweetie," said Tara.

"Are we there yet?"

"I think that's a question for Ghaena," the blonde replied.

"Don't bother," said Willow, "she's in some sort of a trance or something. Ever since we entered the fog bank."

Ghaena sat, staring straight ahead, mumbling something low under her breath, her eyes so intense they appeared to be lit from behind with a great fire.

"Ceo. Oscail. Taispeáin," she muttered repeatedly.

"What's she saying?" asked Buffy.

"I'm not sure," said Tara, "she's speaking too low."

Suddenly the van came to a halt, as it struck something head on. Everyone, save Morrigan and Ghaena, let out a yelp of surprise and alarm; Michelle awoke and began to cry.

"Is everybody okay?" inquired Willow, rubbing her nose from the painful impact of the airbag and then turning in her seat to look back into the cabin.

"I think so," said Tara, removing Michelle from her car seat to calm her. "What did we hit?"

"I don't know," answered the redhead, "I can't see a foot in front of my face out there."

"Taispeáin," Ghaena breathed out the word. Slowly the fog and mist began to roll back and away from the family van. The entire group looked out the passenger windows, straining to see the new landscape as it was revealed to them.

It was a lush and green countryside. Green as far as the eye could see. Great old trees rose into a forest at a distance and the sky glowed a deep, deep blue.

"Wow," everyone whispered as they took in the terrain around them.

"Rock." noted Morrigan.

"Huh?" said Buffy, looking at the ebony-haired woman.

"Rock," she restated. "We hit a rock."

Everyone now drew their attention back to the front window and to the very large boulder making acquaintance with the front of the van.

"We hit a rock," echoed Willow, undoing her seatbelt and opening the driver's side door, peaking out. "A big rock." She slid out of her seat and stepped onto the dew-kissed grass. "No… we hit… a Stonehenge."

"Stonehenge?" said Buffy, "I thought we were going to Avalon!"

"Avalon is due west of here," explained Ghaena as she came out of her meditative state. "About ninety minutes by motor car."

"Well that's great except this car no longer motors," grumbled Willow, inspecting the damage to the front end.

"It's not that bad," said Tara, "It should still run."

"Yes but the question is 'for how long'?" added Buffy.

"This place is neat," commented Emily, taking a moment to wander around the side of the van to gaze at the monolithic structures.

"How long will it take us on foot?" asked Tara, adjusting Michelle in her arms. She simultaneously turned to keep Emily in her sightline. "Emily, stay close."

"With the children, an entire day's journey," answered Ghaena. "We don't have that kind of time."

"Le Fay will be on our heels at any moment," stated Morrigan. "She may even already be at Glastonbury Tor."

"Why don't we do that smog thingy again?" asked the slayer.

"Mist," Ghaena corrected, "and I suppose we could try."

Morrigan shook her head at the idea. "No, we can be too easily tracked that way. Le Fay has spies in the mist."

"Le Fay has spies everywhere," the elder priestess countered.

Willow stepped away from the argument, joining Tara's side as she watched Emily curiously peek about the ancient structure.

"I always wanted to visit here," said Tara softly. "Mom had wanted to take me. But, those plans fell through when she got sick."

"I'm sorry," said Willow.

"It's not your fault," Tara replied. "Finally made it, didn't I? And now my daughters can see it, and my wife… everyone who I hold dear."

"Yeah but," the redhead hedged, "it's not exactly the best reason for a vacation, is it? It's not even a vacation. We're here because we're running."

"Yes," Tara agreed, "but not away. We aren't running away. We're running towards something. Something bigger than all of us. Forget about stopping Le Fay, that's such a small thing in compare to what Emily's destiny really stands for."

"The restoration of Avalon?" Willow asked for clarity.

"And the return of the Goddess," Tara finished. "Once Avalon is restored, the Goddess can return to her former glory. She won't have to hide under the guise of other more 'politically correct' embodiments. It will take time, but once she is free the magick of the Earth will grow strong again. Darkness and light will come back into balance."

"You know I always love it when you talk prophecy," Willow said coyly. Tara chuckled softly at her lover's attempt at lightening the mood, leaning in to capture her lips briefly. Michelle squirmed between the two of them, gurgling small protests of hunger. Willow pulled away and sighed, "I really should feed her."

"Go ahead and take her in the van," offered Tara, handing the baby to her wife. "I'll keep an eye on Emily."

Meanwhile the two priestesses continued to argue.

"That option makes little sense," said Morrigan, "and hour in the faerie realm is as a day in world of mortal man and even then that rule only applies to immortals and faerie folk. When a mortal tries to journey through, an hour is as a year in passing time."

"Unless they travel with a faerie as their guide," Ghaena argued, "then the mortals are enchanted as though they were faeries themselves."

"Well, aren't you guys faerie people or whatever?" inquired Buffy.

"We are merely immortal," explained Morrigan. "Mortals once until we were blessed and now we may travel through both worlds as we please."

"You were blessed, Morrigan," said Ghaena, "I was cursed. Besides, need I remind you that I am half faerie. My mother was—"

"Yes, I know," interrupted the younger priestess, "'The King of Elfland's Daughter'. So your mam was a faerie princess. We've all heard the story. But you know as well as I that is has to be a full-blooded faerie and not a halfling to work."

"I'll have you know that I've done it before," Ghaena snorted indignantly.

"When?" Morrigan scoffed.

"The. Bard." The brunette answered pointedly.

"Oh, yes of course," Morrigan sighed, "the bardic warrior. Over two thousand years ago before Avalon fell when any mortal with a bit of primrose in their stomach and a flagon of ale to bribe a leprechaun could wander in as they pleased. Very impressive."

"I've had quite enough of your lip," sniped Ghaena, taking a step in.

"Oh have you now, Old Woman," snarled Morrigan, likewise moving forward.

"Uh, guys?" said Buffy sheepishly, aware that the two were about to come to blows.

"I may be old, but I can still teach you a lesson or two," Ghaena countered.

"Then I have a question for you, teacher," said Morrigan, "Have you even seen any faeries around here lately?"

"Look, mommy!" exclaimed Emily, "A giant hamster!"

Both priestesses froze momentarily before simultaneously peeping around the side of the van to get a look at where the small child was pointing. A small, fuzzy, brown creature was rooting its nose in the earth, sniffing out good weeds for eating.

"That's no hamster," said Morrigan, stepping around the broken vehicle.

"It's a hedgehog," Ghaena noted, before suddenly pouncing on the small animal with almost inhuman speed and dexterity. Lifting the squirming hedgehog to eye-level, she stared into its two beady little eyes. "Drop your guise and show us your face." She encouraged. When the animal showed no change, she increased her grip slightly. "Do it, or I do it for you." With an audible, "POOF!" the creature reappeared as a tiny little man, dressed in leaves, wiggling and kicking and pushing against the priestess' hand.

"Alright, here now I am," it said in a tiny, squeaky voice. "Loosen your grip, I say. Breaking my ribs, you are." Ghaena lessened her hold slightly. "Honestly, Ghaena of the Mists," it went on, "why so rough you must be?"

"Wow!" said Emily, thoroughly impressed. "Is it a faerie?"

"Yes," confirmed Morrigan, "of the pixie variety. Emily, get a small bit of bread from the lunch that your mother packed."

"Okay," the girl nodded eagerly, dashing back to the van.

"Knock first!" Tara called after, "your mama is nursing!"

"Fiobhadryeal Beankeeper," Ghaena announced condescendingly, "what finds you so far from your Irish home?"

"Owl," he said disdainfully, "filthy, stupid creatures. Mistook me for a meal, one did. Was halfway over the water we was afore it saw a mouse I wasn't. Owls are stupid they are. But I'll tell you this, I will, polite they are. Let me down all gentle like in the woods over yonder. Left a bit of crumb for me, it did."

"I've got some!" Emily announced triumphantly as she ran back over to Morrigan's side, a slice of bread in her hand. She quickly turned to Tara, "Mama wanted me to tell you that she's almost finished with the baby."

"Oh, okay, thank you, Emily," Tara smiled.

"Emily, come here moment," Ghaena commanded. The small redhead did as told, arriving next to Ghaena in a moment. "I'm going to teach you how to barter with a pixie." She turned her eye to the being in her grasp. "Well, introduce yourself as though you were a proper gentleman."

"Fiobhadryeal at your service, young human," he said, tipping his hat of leaves.

"Nice to meet you," said Emily.

"We need a guide through the faerie realm to Avalon," Ghaena explained, regaining the pixie's attention. "We would have you be that guide."

"Oh… Well… Very much I'd like to help you. But too busy I'm afraid I am," Fiobhadryeal stammered. "Besides, forgotten the way I have. Quite lost. Quite lost you'd be."

Ghaena eyed the creature solemnly, leaning over to Emily's ear she whispered, "offer him a small piece of bread."

Emily tore off some bread from the slice in her hand. The pixie unconsciously licked his lips. "My mommy makes the best sandwiches in the world," she said, handing the teeny man the small bit of loaf. "This bread came from one of those sandwiches. I think I even got some of the yummy spread she uses on that little bite I gave you. If you guide us through the faerie place, I'll give you a whole sandwich to eat."

"Emily, you're getting a little ahead of me," said the priestess, unaware that the pixie was quickly smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, trying to savor the wonderful taste of the bread and the tasty spread that was on it. "The whole point of bartering is to start low and work your way up—"

"Do it I will!" Fiobhadryeal quickly agreed. "For a whole piece of bread with that divine stuff pasted on it. Secret is it? Or the recipe you'll share?"

"I'll tell you when we get to Avalon," Emily nodded, turning on her heel and marching back to her mother's side.

Morrigan leaned over to Tara asking softly, "So what is the secret to your sandwiches?"

"Aside from love?" Tara asked playfully before explaining, "Cranberry sauce and mayonnaise."

The ebony-haired woman pulled away, a grimace on her face. "That's disgusting."

"Fiobhadryeal doesn't seem to think so," the blonde countered.

"And neither does half the population of Sunnydale," Buffy joined.

Willow stepped out of the van, cradling Michelle in her arms, and walked over to where the others were standing.

"So what's the plan?" she asked.

"We're taking a short cut through the realm of the faeries," Ghaena answered. "And this wee little pixie shall be our guide."

Fiobhadryeal stepped forward and once again tipped his tiny hat, this time adding a small bow. "Well, come on then you must. All day we haven't got."

"Take only what you can carry," Morrigan instructed. "We must travel light to make good time."

The group set about to gathering their things, with Buffy carrying most of the load. In fact, with the slayer dealing with the greater part of the burden, they were able to take most everything with them.

They all lined up behind the pixie, who with a wave of his hand and a softly spoken, "Oscail" caused a small rift in the air in front of them and signaled to everyone to follow him through.

The world inside the faerie realm was not much different in appearance, except that the colors were more intense and the air smelled sweeter. But as they drew nearer to the forest edge the differences became undeniably more apparent. Trees and plants moved of their own accord, occasionally stopping to converse with one another. Sprites and winged faeries zipped about the air freely, going about their business of tending to the plant life of the forest.

Fiobhadryeal kept up a fairly quick rate of speed at the head of the group, but Emily did her level best to keep up with him. Even at one point trying to start a conversation.

"So what's it like being a pixie?" she inquired.

"Don't know," he answered distractedly. "What's it like not being one?"

"Don't know," she replied honestly. "Have you got any family?"

"Family I have," he nodded. "Brothers and sisters numbering over three thousand. Not to mention aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, children, grandchildren. Know most of them I do not. So many of them there are."

"Woa," gasped the small redhead, "your family sure is big."

"What happens that is when live as long as I, you have," the pixie stated. "And you? Family have you?"

"My family is real little compared to yours," Emily explained. "Most of them are here." She pointed in turn to each person as she named them. "First there are my parents. That's my Mommy and next to her is my Mama holding my baby sister. The other lady is my Godmommy…"

"You sure do have a lot of mams," noted Fiobhadryeal.

"I know! Isn't it great?" Emily giggled and let a large grin grace her face, but when she noted the pixie's sudden downtrodden look, her own expression turned a little somber. "It must be tough having a family so big that no own has time to pay attention to you."

"Used to it I have gotten," he sighed. "So long has it been. Though…"

"Yes?"

"Though, admit it I must… sometimes quite sad am I. So many of us there are that if to see my own mother I were…know her I would not. Nor would she know me either."

The news of this left Emily very sad. To not know her own mommy or mama was a thought completely foreign and scary to her. But she just knew she had to look to the bright side of things. "Well at least you have friends," she offered.

"Friends have I?" he puzzled. "Who?"

"Me for starters," she grinned.

The pixie came to a full stop. He looked way up into his young companion's eyes. "Fiobhadryeal's friend you are?" he asked, his voice even tinier than usual.

"Of course, silly," she replied.

"Fiobhadryeal a friend does have," he said disbelievingly to himself.

"What's the hold up there?" called Ghaena from the back of the group. "We don't have time to dally!"

"Better keep moving," Emily urged.

"Yes," Fiobhadryeal agreed. "Keep moving we will… friend."

The group continued on through the woods as another half-hour ticked by.

"One thing has me stumped," said Buffy, keeping pace with Morrigan.

"Yes?"

"Why not just do that teleport thingy?" the slayer asked.

"'Teleport thingy'?" said Morrigan, not following.

"You know," Buffy went on, "that whole disappear-reappear thing. Like you did back in Sunnydale." Morrigan gave her a perplexed eye. Buffy sighed. "The thing where you just 'poof' showed up in Willow and Tara's bedroom."

"We didn't 'teleport'," said Morrigan. "We can't."

"Well, then how did you get into the house?" asked Buffy.

"The front door," the priestess answered.

"How did you get past me?" exasperated the slayer.

"We were quiet," came the simple reply.

Buffy let out a small frustrated exclamation.

"Language," Tara warned.

"Sorry," the petite blonde grumbled.

At the end of an hour's journey, the caravan reached the exiting point of the forest. Once again the pixie stepped to the front of the group and pointed out beyond the tree line.

"There it is, it is," he said proudly, "Fiobhadryeal has done good, I have."

"Yes, you've done very well," praised Emily.

"Glastonbury Tor," Ghaena said, letting out a sigh of relief. "Our journey is almost ended."

Fiobhadryeal shifted his weight uneasily upon his tiny feet, taking off his hat and fiddling with it in his hands. "Keeping to the bargain will you now be, miss?" he asked in his small, little voice. "A whole piece of bread may now I have?"

"Of course," smiled the girl, reaching into her backpack to pull out one of the precious sandwiches inside, offering it at arms length. He snatched it from her hand and quickly divested it of the sliced turkey and lettuce, dropping these items back in Emily's hand.

"Don't like meat, Miss," he explained, "only bread for me. Be thanking you kindly for such generosity, I is. Two whole pieces when promised me only one, you did."

"That's what friends do," said Emily. "We help each other."

Fiobhadryeal smiled and somehow found the courage to sheepishly ask, "Plenty of spread on these, there is?"

"Uh-huh," Emily nodded, smiling, although looking a bit uncomfortable holding the messy deli meat in her bare hand.

"Off then I'll just be," he announced, then paused, "unless be needing my help you will?"

"No," said Ghaena, "thank you, Fiobhadryeal. We'll not ask you for anything more. You've done your service. Be off with you."

"Right then," he replied, adjusted his hat on his head. "Meeting you all a pleasure it was." And off he scampered into the underbrush; the twin slices of bread tucked one under each arm.

The elder priestess watched him go, a curious glint in her eye. "What is it?" asked Morrigan.

"For as long as I have known him," answered Ghaena, "and I've known him a long time, Fiobhadryeal Beankeeper has never once offered his help so freely." She turned to Emily and grinned. "I think he's taken a liking to you," she winked.

"Nah," Emily shrugged, dropping the loose meat and lettuce back into the Ziploc sandwich bag, "he just wanted to be treated like a person and not a magic hamster. You know?"

Ghaena kneeled down and looked the girl right in the eye. "You truly are a remarkable child, Emily Rosenberg-Maclay." She lightly squeezed Emily's nose between her thumb and forefinger and then returned to standing. "Alright, it's time to leave the faerie realm. I just hope we haven't lost too much time in the journey."

When they stepped out of the forest, it was night. The moon hung low on the horizon, full and luminescent, lighting the earth below. In the distance, a great

tower loomed over the top of the tall hill, sending along shadow down its side.

"What's that building?" asked Emily.

"It's a shrine to St. Michael," Morrigan replied. "Long ago, when Avalon fell, the waters surrounding the isle receded until all that was left was the great hill you see before you now. Still the people knew that this was a place of magic and new legends came to be associated with it."

The group started move towards the mount when Ghaena put out an arm, stopping them.

"Do you hear that?" she said, turning her ear to the wind.

Everyone paused and listened.

"Sounds like leaves rustling," said Buffy.

"No… not leaves," commented Morrigan as the sound grew and the tone took on a baser note.

"Run!!" shouted Ghaena, breaking for the hill. The others took off in pursuit just as a great murder of black birds erupted from the forest behind them. There number so great that they took the shape of a low-lying cloud, ripe with an awesome storm.

"It's Le Fay!!" cried Morrigan, trying to be heard above the wicked cawing of the swarm overhead. "Protect the children!"

Buffy scooped Emily up in to her strong arms and took off in a sprint, running for cover under a nearby tree.

"Mommy!" she screamed, trying to reach for Tara and Willow, who were quickly falling behind the slayer's speed.

"We're coming, Emily!" Tara yelled after her before she was struck upside the head by a diving raven, knocking her to the ground.

"Tara!" Willow shouted in alarm, crouching down to her lover's side, curving her body to protect both her lover and Michelle who was strapped against her chest in her carrier.

"I'm okay," Tara assured her, staggering to her feet. "We have to keep running!"

Willow nodded and took Tara's hand, cradling their infant's head with her other, and continued the mad dash to where Buffy and Emily were cowering for protection from the foul onslaught.

Morrigan and Ghaena tried to fight off the attack, sending magickal bolts of lightening and fire into the ravens' clustered mass. Most scattered, a few died, but it was nowhere near enough.

Growing weary of this façade, Ghaena called out, "Morgan La Fey! Stop wasting our time! We end this now! Show your face!!" The flock continued to dive and attack the scattered group, unrelenting. "You always were a coward!" the elder priestess accused. "Always hiding behind your ignorant followers! Letting them do your dirty work for you!"

"Appear to us now!" commanded Morrigan. "Or do you fear what we already know?! That by us being here, we've already won and you're finished no matter what you try!"

Suddenly, the ravens flocked tightly together and dove toward the ground, crashing into the earth and stacking onto one another in such a fashion that they slowly began to take the shape of a body from the toes up. As the birds melded together, their definition became clearer to the shape of a woman until soon the body was fully formed and a face began to appear at the top of the newly formed neck.

The small family under the tree let out a gasp when they saw whom it was standing before them.

"Honestly," Le Fay snarked, "it's because of one of my 'ignorant followers' that you made it this far in the first place. Stupid Henckle. It wasn't until you were nearing the mists that I realized she was going to try to warn you rather than kill you as I had commanded. If she had followed my instructions I wouldn't have been brought to such rudimentary tactics. So I had to kill her, poor dear." The regal witch let out a frustrated sigh. "What happened to the times when stupid humans would follow their idols blindly and without question?" she said, waxing sentimental.

"They still have them," said Morrigan. "They're called 'extremists'."

"Thankfully you no longer command such fanaticism," added Ghaena. Le Fay snorted disdainfully and rolled her eyes. "Why don't you drop that ridiculous disguise and show your true face? Joined the 'Witness Protection Program', have you?"

"I was only wearing this for dramatic effect," admitted Le Fay. "you know how I love a good entrance."

"Hopefully your exit will be several times more impressive," said Ghaena.

"We shall see," she replied darkly as she began her transformation. Everyone watched as the familiar face of guidance counselor Charlotte Geary began to morph and twist into the witch's actual visage. First the color drained from her skin, leaving her skin a pale white. Then her hair fell out of its neat braids and settled into long black locks down her back, with rich violet highlights glinting in the moonlight. The angles of her face became even sharper, and her eyes took on an amethyst hue, piercing and deadly in their gaze. Finally her clothes changed from the modest business casual attire the counselor had been wearing into long, flowing black and wine colored robes, the material billowing lightly in the evening breeze. The sorceress stood triumphant, lifting her chin defiantly for added effect, fully satisfied that her performance had been thoroughly impressive.

"Put on a bit of weight have you?" questioned Morrigan.

Le Fay instantly deflated, then re-inflated to her regal stance, only allowing herself to be ever so slightly flustered.

"She looks like the Maleficent lady from 'Sleeping Beauty'," Emily whispered. Tara and Willow both nodded in agreement.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?" said Le Fay.

"Business?" questioned Ghaena. "Oh yes, of course, the restoration of Avalon. I'll just have the child start to work…"

"Now, now, Ghaena" interrupted the sorceress, "let's not be hasty. Surely we can come to some sort of an agreement that is beneficial for both parties. Yours and mine."

Ghaena looked her opponent sharp in the eye. "The only thing that would satisfy 'my party' is the return of Avalon and you having a nice go at snuffing it."

"Then I am afraid we are at an impasse, for that is simply not an acceptable option," Le Fay countered. "It's that pesky bit of dying you see. I'm simply not up to it."

"You're just going to have to come to terms with it, I'm afraid," said Ghaena, before calling over her shoulder. "Go ahead, Emily!"

"I wouldn't do that, Emily, dear!" shouted Le Fay, "Not if you value your life!" The witch turned her attention back to the two priestesses in front of her. "You know I can kill her with a glance if I choose."

"Then why haven't you," asked Morrigan. "It's not as if you haven't had the opportunity."

"Because she has something I want and killing her wouldn't be conducive to getting it. And I always like to get what I want."

"Which is?"

"Power," Le Fay answered. "I want it. She's got it. Loads in fact. More than she realizes… more than you realize and at her age she's only going to get stronger. I want what she's got and in trade I would even be willing to raise your precious Avalon for you once I gain the knowledge she has buried in her pretty little head."

Ghaena paused, almost seeming to consider this as an option. She signaled Morrigan over and the two of them appeared to hold a quick conference, their backs turned to the sorceress. Le Fay looked on, her eyebrow raised in curiosity and intrigue.

Buffy, Tara, Willow and Emily kept watch from afar.

"What are they doing?" asked Buffy. From where they were seated, they could see what Le Fay could not.

"It looks like they're playing a game of paper-scissors-rock," said Willow.

"What for?" queried Tara.

"Maybe they're deciding who gets to kick her butt first," offered Emily.

Ghaena finally beat Morrigan with scissors over paper. The two shook hands, and quickly turned to face Le Fay once again, both of their expressions very serious.

"We've discussed it," the elder priestess said solemnly," and we've come to the decision… that you're completely off your nutter."

"Tá tú glan as do mheabhair," Morrigan added in agreement.

"WHAT?!" Le Fay cried out indignantly.

"Emily?" Ghaena called over her shoulder, "do your stuff!"

The little redhead leapt to her feet and gave each of her parents a quick hug and kiss. "I'll be right back," she said and took off for the base of the hill.

"Emily!" Tara called after her.

"Noooo!" howled Le Fay, sending a large pulse of energy toward the galloping child, knocking her hard to the ground. Tara screamed and Willow cried out in pain at watching her daughter fall.

"You will not stop us so easily," said Ghaena.

"She rises," added Morrigan, pointing to how Emily slowly pushed herself to her feet and began to race for the mount's base again.

Seeing this, Le Fay again raised her hand to strike, but found herself suddenly thrown to the ground, the double impact knocking the wind out of her.

Buffy straddled the dark witch, punching her hard in the face as she punctuated each strike with a word. "Never! Hit! My! God! Daughter! Again! You! Bi—"

Le Fay blew the slayer off of her mid wallop, sending the petite blonde flying thirty feet through the air and landing with a thud in the wet grass. The sorceress staggered to her feet, dusting her robes off and delicately rubbing her chin.

"I think that little bitch dislocated my jaw!" she complained.

"Well now maybe you won't be flapping it so much," bit Ghaena.

"Enough of this!" Le Fay growled. "I'll be done with you all!" She began to work herself into a great frenzy, summoning all of the power available to her, the immensity of it causing a low thrum to reverb from the air around her. Ghaena and Morrigan were both knocked off their feet by the intensity of it, struggling to even sit up under Le Fay's evil weight. "Now I will show you death!" Le Fay wickedly promised as she prepared to unleash her fury. But she found herself suddenly distracted by a sharp rock striking her upside of the head. "What?" she said, looking up to see where it came from.

"Hurt my friends you will not!!" Fiobhadryeal shouted from where he hung clutched by the feet of a low-flying owl. In its beak it carried a small sack full of stones that the pixie drew his ammunition, slinging several more rocks Le Fay's way.

Morgan Le Fay could not help laugh. A wicked, cackling laugh that caused everyone's stomach to churn. "Do you really think I can be stopped by one stupid pixie?"

"No," Fiobhadryeal admitted. "But to a few thousand what would you say?"

And just as the sky had filled before with a cloud of ravens, now an entire storm of birds of all sizes carrying pixies and small sacks of stones began raining down rocks upon the evil woman. So enormous was the number of stones and so accurate was the pixies' aim that Le Fay quickly found herself being buried under a mountain of pebbles. "What is this?" she cried out in frustration.

"My family this is," announced Fiobhadryeal proudly. "Brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins and somewhere in here my mother. Though know her I do not. But alright that is, because friends I have!"

Willow and Tara looked on in disbelief, unable to stop the smiles forming on their faces as they watched everything unfold.

"Emily!," Ghaena called through the maelstrom, "the spell! You must do it now!"

Emily nodded and raised her hands to the hill before her. "Anál nathrach orth bháis's bethad, do chél dénmha!" she chanted, straining her voice over all of the noise around them, she repeated the phrase over and over.

Slowly a great mist began to appear from the earth, surrounding the hill and its base until soon the entire mass was completely engulfed and hidden from sight. Enormous eruptions of multicolored light sparked forth from the fog, filling the sky almost like fireworks.

Still trapped in her pile of rocks, Le Fay began to shake and writhe in agony as her life left her body, and her body seemingly dissolved into the ground.

"She's melting," gasped Tara.

"She's melting," echoed Willow.

"What in the world?" said Buffy as she pushed herself up onto her elbows from where she had fallen.

"Imeacht gan teacht ort," Ghaena sneered at the disappearing woman.

As the dark sorceress became no more, the attention turned back to Emily and the amazing transformation taking place by her hand.

The small girl completed her spell and fell down exhausted, barely able to keep her head up to watch what her magick had accomplished. Tara and Willow rose to their feet and quickly dashed to their daughter's side, Tara kneeling to cradle her in her arms.

Released from the wicked mass of the witch's power, Ghaena and Morrigan quickly joined them at the base of the hill, Buffy reaching them shortly as well.

Behind them, the ground began to weep tears of joy, ultimately creating an island of the small hill, separating it from land once again. They all watched transfixed as the mist began to evaporate and the great balls of light hung low in the air, illuminating the scene almost as bright as day.

Before them stood smiling several dozen women of all races and ages, dressed in all manner of colored robes. The oldest looking one and apparent leader stepped forward, arms raised in gracious welcome as she happily announced, "Céad mile fáilte romhait!"

The non-Gaelic speaking members of the group turned to Ghaena and Morrigan for translation.

"She said, 'A hundred thousand welcomes'," explained Morrigan.

"Oh," said Willow, "Uh…thanks."

"Yeah, thanks," Emily smiled sleepily, offering a little wave.

A tall, elegant looking woman stepped out of the crowd, unlike the others, her jet-black hair was cut pixie-like short, and she was dressed in attractive, form-fitting black pants and a modest, yet striking, silver colored swordswoman's shirt and black leather jerkin. And, like a few of the others, her ears came up to a noticeable point.

She examined the weary group, her eyes falling on lastly Ghaena, a smile curling her lips. "Maith thú," she said, clearly impressed.

"Tá fáilte romhait," the brunette smiled, tears forming at the edges of her eyes. "Dwynnie," she said after a moment, "I've missed you so." Ghaena squirmed her way free of the group and quickly engulfed her lover into her arms. "Síoraí gráim thú go," she whispered desperately.

Everyone could not help but smile at such a deeply felt reunion. But there was still business to be dealt with at hand. Once again the leader of the priestesses stepped forward.

"Morrigan," she said authoritatively, "long ago you defied me and the others here. You were banished from Avalon then, why do you return?"

"To seek the clemency of you and the Goddess that I may return home," Morrigan replied, clearly making it an effort to keep her voice from breaking and betraying her desperation. "To be absolved of the crimes that I am accused of, but did not commit." The elder stared at her silently until finally Morrigan could take no more. "Vivianne, please…. Please."

Vivianne let out a long sigh. "Your crimes are great, Morrigan," she began, noting the slump that suddenly formed on the woman's shoulders. "But I will consider it." Now Morrigan's head snapped up in hopeful surprise. "In the meantime," Vivianne went on, "you are welcome to the Isle. Today is for celebration. I trust you all will join in the festivities as you are the guests of honor?"

"We beat the bad guys," said Buffy, "I say we party."

"Excellent," Vivianne smiled.

"Can Fiobhadryeal and his family come too?" Emily asked sweetly. "After all, he did help."

"What friends do, that is!" he called out from where his owl hovered.

The priestess warily eyed the enormous crowd of pixies filling the air. "Quite a lot of them, aren't there?" she said, mostly to herself. After a moment's consideration she announced, "Of course! All are welcome on this great day of commemoration!"

"Be sure to have a lot of bread," Emily whispered knowingly.

Vivianne nodded, sending the young girl a wink, letting her know that she would.

Epilogue…

The flames of the great bonfire flicked and danced to the sounds of the

drums, pipes and wild fiddle playing of the celebrants. Emily skipped

about, clapping her hands to the joyous music as Fiobhadryeal sat on her

shoulder while playing on his own tiny flute. Buffy had found herself

caught up in teaching a small bunch of pixies (about 4 hundred or so,

but when they barely reach your knees in height, they don't seem so

many) fighting technique in fending off flying predators. The pixies'

many owls and other flying beasts did not seem amused. But knowing that

most if not all of the pixies endeavoring to learn from the slayer were

no doubt highly inebriated and therefore incapable of remembering

anything at all, the feathery flocks chose to sit idly by rather than

interfere.

Across the fire Ghaena and Gryffldwynn sat together on a small log,

hands clasped tightly, temples pressed up against one another. Ghaena

was speaking softly so that no one but Dwynn could hear, occasionally

she would turn her head and kiss her cheek, or ear and sometimes her

lips. After a while they retired, and no one need ask where they had

gone.

At a great wooden table loaded down with food of all varieties Willow

and Tara sat watching the party unfold. Michelle lay napping in a

blanket-lined basket the priestesses had provided, and winged

sprite-like faeries danced in a flying circle above the wee babe,

creating a mobile of tiny living lights.

"This place is so... magical," said Tara, at a loss for any other

words. Willow, similarly lost, merely nodded and wrapped her arm around

her wife, drawing her closer.

"I hope you are finding everything to your liking," said Vivianne as

she approached the couple and sat down, joining them at the table. "It's

been a very long while since we've had any guests."

"Everything's wonderful," smiled Willow, "thank you."

"It's amazing," added Tara.

Vivianne nodded thankfully before continuing, "your rooms have been

prepared for you. I trust you'll find them quite comfortable, even

though the furnishings are a bit... old. Twelfth century." She

shrugged.

Willow sat up a little. "Uh, rooms? For the night?" she asked, her tone

worried.

"Yes," confirmed Vivianne, her brow furrowing slightly, "is that

alright?"

"It's just that our friends are probably worried about us" Willow

explained, "plus Emily has school tomorrow and I've got a really big

program due into my office."

"I understand," Vivianne sighed, clearly saddened by the development.

"If you wish to return home, that can be arranged..."

"We'll stay," Tara announced, effectively cutting off any of Willow's

attempted protestations. She turned to look at her lover. "Emily can

stand to miss a day of school and Willow, your work can wait. It isn't

due until next week. At any rate," she continued, turning back to

Vivianne, "We have a lot of questions that need answering."

"Yes," the priestess agreed, "I'm certain you do."

*****

5 days later….

"Good morning, class. My name is Mr. Gregory and I will be your

instructor for the remainder of the year." The new teacher announced.

He was tall, brown-haired and bearded and dressed quite formally with a

tie and long-sleeved dress-shirt and dark trousers. His voice was deep

and undeniably firm in its delivery. Several of the students gave each

other wary glances. "As you know," Mr. Gregory continued, "Ms.

Henckle, your former teacher passed away last week in a car accident on

the I-15. I know that you all cared for her very much and her loss is

keenly felt. I am very sorry to be assuming her position here under

these grave circumstances."

Emily sat at her desk, allowing the teacher's words to wash over her

and filter into her skin, settling with a hard lump in her chest. It's

sort of my fault that she's dead, she guiltily surmised, rolling a

pencil between her fingers. I wonder if she wanted to work for Le Fay…

or if she was under her spell or something. She did try to warn us in

the end… I don't want it to be my fault… The small redhead slowly

tuned her thoughts back to Mr. Gregory, still giving his introductory

speech.

"As you all know," he went on, "This is an accelerated class. You

are all here because you have proven to be at the head of your class in

learning ability and applied knowledge. Because the class is geared

toward making you young adults, you are expected to conduct yourselves

as such. There will be no talking, note passing, scribbling, drawing,

giggling or other disruptions of any kind allowed in this classroom. You

are expected to be here everyday and on time. Tardiness is not

tolerated, neither is frequent absenteeism. I am not here, ladies and

gentlemen, to hold your hand and coddle you. I am here to teach you and

you are here to learn."

Emily and several other students let out sighs of disappointment with

this new instructor. He was certainly not going to be as much fun as Ms.

Henckle had been. Mr. Gregory noticed the exhalations and paused, eyeing

each one of the guilty parties momentarily, a single eyebrow raised.

Emily felt herself sink under his gaze.

"Because we are still so early in the school year," he continued

after a moment, "I am going to be implementing my own syllabus for

this class, rather than relying on the course work outlined by your late

teacher." He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a stack of

papers, dividing them equally between the five rows of desks, the

students mutely began taking a copy and passing the rest back. "Every

Tuesday there will be a history quiz. Every Wednesday a math quiz, every

Thursday a quiz on your English lesson and every Friday you will be

expected to turn in a report on a current event. These reports will be

presented orally in front of the entire class."

At this announcement, a handful of students couldn't help themselves

and let out audible groans. Mr. Gregory paused again. The room instantly

quieted, the tension palpable.

Finally he took a breath and went on, "35% of your over-all grade is

dependant upon your performance on these quizzes and weekly reports. 25%

is dependant on test scores, 25% on your homework and 15% on your

attendance and participation in this class."

Emily felt her mind drifting off again, back to memories only a few

days old. She could still feel the heat of the bonfire, the weight of

the little pixie Fiobhadryeal on her shoulder, she could hear the wild

and happy music filling the air around them and she could see her

parents in deep conversation with Vivianne, the High Priestess of

Avalon. She knew they were talking about her and her natural curiosity

was driving her to listen in.

She set Fiobhadryeal down with the rest of the party's musicians and

then quickly snuck around to a large bush near the table where Willow

and Tara sat, hiding amongst its foliage.

"We just want her to have a normal life," she heard her mommy say

and watched her mama nod in agreement.

"And so she shall," replied Vivianne, "as normal a life as a

child of her remarkable abilities can have."

"You mean…" began Willow, a trifle confused.

"I mean her greater destiny here is finished," the priestess

explained. "She will retain her powers and magickal abilities, so her

training should continue uninterrupted lest they unintentionally fall

out of her control. And she will be expected to become a Priestess of

the Goddess… but she does not have to stay here, and becoming a

priestess should not inhibit her from pursuing other careers should she

desire."

"So essentially," surmised Tara, letting out a sigh of relief,

"she's done."

"She's done," Vivanne nodded in affirmation.

"What about Michelle?" Willow asked hastily.

The High Priestess smiled, seeing the worry in the young mother's

eyes and seeking to calm it. "She will undoubtedly be a very powerful

witch. Particularly given her parents… and her lineage. She too will

need extensive training to harness and control her abilities… otherwise…

her greater purpose is to simply grow up."

Emily felt herself grow very light with this new revelation. She could

be a kid again. It was all she ever could have hoped for. And Michelle

was going to be able do magick too! She quickly thought of all the fun

she and her little sister were going to have, as they both got older.

"You shouldn't spy on your parents like that," whispered Morrigan

from behind her, almost causing Emily to jump out of her skin.

"You scared me," Emily whispered back, clearly perturbed.

"Only because I caught you doing something you knew you aught not to

be," the dark-haired woman softly replied, extending her hand, "come

on."

Emily hesitated, and then accepted the priestess's hand, the older

woman pulling her back toward the crowded revelry. She couldn't help

but skip a little, a trait she had picked up from her mommy. Morrigan

noticed the hop in her young companion's step and smiled.

"You haven't been sampling the leprechaun's ale have you?" she

asked teasingly.

"Noooo," Emily giggled in response. "I'm a kid."

"Of course you are," Morrigan agreed, "so no drinking until you

are of legal age."

"No, I mean… I'm a kid," Emily tried to explain, "I'm just a

kid. I've never been 'just' a kid before. It's neat."

"What do you mean?" asked the priestess.

"Well, I was a slayer… or I was going to be… at least that's what

everyone thought," she stated. "Then I was a….well… whatever I

needed to be to bring back Avalon. But now… even though someday I'm

going to have to be a priestess like you… for now I'm just a kid."

"Then you be sure to live your childhood to the fullest," Morrigan

grinned.

The memory began to fade to the recess of her mind, and Emily once

again found herself listening to the monotone droning of Mr. Gregory at

the front of the class.

"I should not find it necessary to repeat myself often," he said,

drawing to his conclusion, "I will treat all of you as adults,

provided that you endeavor to behave as such. Isn't that right, Miss

Rosenberg?" Clearly he had noticed Emily's attention had drifted off

during his oration.

"Maclay," she finished for him.

"What?" he asked, clearly not appreciating the contradiction.

"Rosenberg-Maclay," she clarified. "My last name is Rosenberg-Maclay."

"I'm sorry," he said congenially, but with no remorse, "the

attendance roster cuts it short. My mistake."

"Ms. Henckle never made that mistake," she mumbled to herself. a

"What was that?" he queried sharply.

"I said that Miss Henckle never made that mistake," she reiterated

in full voice. "And she never made the mistake of confusing a bunch of

nine year olds… and one eight year old… with a group of adults. We're

kids. We should be allowed to be kids. To 'enjoy our childhood to the

fullest'." Emily sat back, surprised at her own outburst. She had

never talked back to a teacher before… ever. She could feel all of her

classmates staring at her and exchanging glances amongst one another

behind her back.

Mr. Gregory's nostrils flared with anger and he clenched his jaw in

an effort to keep his temper. "I know that losing your teacher has

been difficult for many of you," he said lowly, "but this is my

class now and I expect to be afforded the same level of respect you gave

Ms. Henckle when she was here. Is that understood?"

The entire class mumbled their agreement. Mr. Gregory now turned his

attention back to Emily. "Is that understood Miss Rosenberg-Maclay?"

he asked. "I will respect you as long as you respect me."

"Yes, sir," she conceded, sinking even more into her desk.

*****

"Thanks for babysitting, mom," said Willow as Tara passed a

sleeping Michelle into Sheila's arms.

"Nonsense," said the elder Rosenberg, cradling her grandbaby

protectively. "I missed out on this with Emily you know. Watching over

her when she was this small, I mean."

"Well, we were kind of in Seattle at the time," Willow offered her

mother by way of explanation. "Sort of a long commute for a

sitter."

"That and I was still lecturing," Sheila sighed, "still painfully

oblivious to your life. I hope you'll forgive me someday…"

Willow took Tara's hand in hers and the pair shared a brief glance.

"I've already forgiven you, mom. It takes too much energy to stay

bitter…or angry… Especially when it's obvious that you're trying so

hard." The redhead paused briefly before adding, "I love you,

mom."

"I love you too, Willow," her mother replied, eyes watering.

Hating to disrupt the lovely bonding session occurring between her wife

and mother-in-law, Tara hesitantly cleared her voice and reluctantly

spoke up. "Uh… We should really get moving if we don't want to lose

anymore of the day."

"Oh, yeah," Willow answered, coming out of her short reverie and

squeezing Tara's hand a little in acknowledgement. "We'll be back

around seven for Michelle."

"Take your time," Sheila smiled, rocking the baby in her arms and

cooing a little, despite that the child was still very asleep.

Willow and Tara both nodded and turned down the walkway to the

sidewalk. They walked hand-in-hand and in silence for several blocks,

enjoying the feel of each other's nearness, the sounds of the morning

birds in the trees, the rustle of the leaves in the fall wind, the smell

of the dew on the grass.

"What are you thinking about?" Willow asked, breaking the

quietude.

"Nothing," Tara replied, adding a small swing to their linked

hands. "My mind is blissfully empty."

"Really?"

"Mostly," the blonde smiled. "Occasionally things will flit

through my head."

"Like what?" Willow was adorably curious.

Tara thought to herself, "Grocery list… the recipe for dinner tonight…does you mother still think that Thanksgiving shouldn't be celebrated, or can we

invite her to dinner this year…images of Avalon… the things you said

that night…"

Willow felt her knees weaken for a moment as she too recalled the

passionate night they had shared. "Yeah?"

Tara brought them to a full stop and gazed deeply into her lover's

eyes. "Did you mean what you said? Or where they just words spoken in

the heat of the moment?" Before Willow could reply, Tara put forth a

disclaimer; "Think really hard before you answer that, Will. Because…

what you said at Avalon… was big. It would mean a lot of changes in our

life… even more than we've already made."

"I know…"

*****

It was quite late by the time they had retired to the bedroom Vivianne

had been so gracious to prepare for them. Emily and Michelle were

already in bed in a room just down the ancient stone-worked hall. The

bonfire outside was slowly burning itself out and piles of snoring

pixies and other partygoers lay nearby its dying warmth.

The priestesses had laid out a pair of sleeping gowns for the two

women, but the married couple instinctively knew that they would not

need them this night. They disrobed and climbed onto the large

feather-down mattress, pulling the great comforter up to cover their

naked bodies as they entwined their limbs together. They lay on their

sides, facing each other, pushing their bodies as close together as

possible, simply enjoying the feel of skin on skin… hanging on.

Their lips fell together in a slow and languorous exchange. There was

no rushing here. There was no reason too. Hands began to caress and

explore backs, backsides and soft, soft skin. Familiar territory that

always felt new. Legs pressed more firmly together, muscles tensing

slightly, sending new sensations through old nerves.

Tara felt her pulse quicken, though her movements did not. She knew it

was the same for Willow, who now begin to deepen their kiss and she

welcomed the gentle invasion. The redhead's hips pressed forward of

their own volition seeking purchase with her lover's moist center, her

own becoming increasingly wet.

They slowly drew out of the kiss, foreheads pressing together, grasping

for air, sharing breath.

"I love you," Willow exhaled, looking deeply into Tara's eyes,

the depth of her sincerity so great it would have rivaled the deepest

part of the deepest ocean and the vastest expanse of sky on the longest

horizon.

"I love you too," Tara replied, equally as heartfelt.

Willow looked down for a moment, drawing courage, before looking up

again into her wife's eyes. "I…I want to make another baby with

you," she said.

"What?" Tara responded, she was clearly startled by this

revelation, but kept her voice low.

"I want to spend the rest of my life making babies with you,"

Willow repeated. "Or at least for as long as we can."

"Will…"

"I mean…not right away…because, 'hello?' Michelle…but maybe when

she's older…"

"Willow, we can't…"

"Not with magic," the redhead interrupted her, "I know. But,

there are other ways. More… conventional ways, I mean, conventional as

compared to magic… if you'd be open…"

"It's not a question of me being open to it, sweetie," Tara

answered, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her lover's ear.

"It's more a question of 'what brought this on'? You've

never mentioned anything about wanting a large family before. We've

never talked about it…"

"Yes we have," Willow countered.

"We have?"

"May 29th, 2000 at 3:13am," she replied as if it was the most

common knowledge in the world. Tara only looked at her, so Willow went

on. "We were staying at my parent's house while they were out of

town…"

"Oh!," said Tara, "I remember that… but Willow, how could you

expect me to take that conversation seriously? You said you thought it

would be neat to be like the 'Partridge Family' with a bunch of

singing kids and a multi-colored bus."

"Okay, well… I admit I had been watching a little too much 'Nick at

Nite' at the time," the redhead conceded, "But I still think about

it… I mean, not the bus or the singing part... but the bunch of kids

part. That was a very important night for me."

"Why?"

"Because it was the night I realized, beyond all of the certainty I

had ever felt in my life about anything, that I wanted to spend the rest

of my life with you."

Tara couldn't help it, that remark earned Willow a deep and earnest

kiss. A kiss that quickly escalated into something much more passionate.

Conversation ceased as they fell deeply into each other's body,

tasting, touching, breathing as one. Always as one.

*****

Willow felt her body temperature rise with the recollection of that

night. But the feeling of Tara gazing at her expectantly drew her out of

her memory and to the present.

"It was and is a beautiful thought, Willow," Tara stated softly,

"but I still don't understand where it came from… evening

counting the conversation we had almost twelve years ago. We were only

kids then, not even twenty."

They began walking again as Willow explained. "When Vivianne told us

that Emily had fulfilled her destiny, that she was done and all she

needs to do now is be a normal kid and that Michelle is just a normal

kid too… it made me think… now we can have normal lives. Or at least as

normal as you can have when you're living on a Hellmouth, your best

friend is the slayer and your children are going to grow up as badass

witches."

Tara looked puzzled. "And having a normal life means having more

children?"

"No," Willow replied, shaking her head a little. "That's just

one potential aspect… if we want it to be. Think of all the things

we've put on hold, whether consciously or unconsciously, because we

were so busy dealing with our child's destiny as a 'chosen one',

whatever we thought that meant at the time. Slayer or otherwise… Am I

making any sense?"

"Yeah," her lover smiled. "I get it. I do. But… I don't think

I'm ready to raise a softball team."

"It wouldn't have to be a softball team," Willow chuckled, "but

what about… doubles tennis?"

"A team for each side of the net, you mean?" Tara expounded,

lopsided grin firmly in place.

"Well, yeah," Willow smiled goofily. "Although... if it's

alright with you, I'd rather not name them Venus and Serena. I mean

they're good names as names go, but… Venus Rosenberg-Maclay?"

"It sort of does lose something the translation, doesn't it,"

agreed Tara.

The redhead added a small swing to their linked hands. brought "So,

you want to? When Michelle is older… you really want to?"

Tara was silent with contemplation for a moment, really thinking the

idea over in her head. "Let's see where we are in a couple of

years," she said after a moment. "But I think it's definitely

something to look forward to."

Willow skipped a little bit and Tara giggled at her wife's

excitement. Suddenly Willow looked at her watch and her eyes grew wide.

"Oh, we'd better hurry! Everyone will be there already!"

Tara nodded and they quickened their pace.

When they arrived at Sunnydale Elementary School, the rest of the gang

was already there in the front lobby. Anya and Xander with little Joseph

who was squirming with excitement. Buffy and Dawn discussing the younger

Summers' latest beaux, a strapping young man named Steve with perfect

hair and excellent fashion sense. Tara and Willow secretly worried if

poor Dawnie would ever break free of her streak of dating… special… men.

Giles was there too in deep conversation with both Morrigan and Ghaena,

Gryffldwynn staying close to Ghaena's side.

"Has she been called up yet?" asked Willow as they approached the others.

"Buffy spoke to the desk lady a minute ago," Dawn answered.

Just then, a guilty looking Emily rounded the corner of the hall and came to an abrupt halt when she saw her entire family standing there.

Her lip quivered as tears threatened her eyes and she bolted into her mommy's arms, gripping the blonde's waist tightly. "I'll never talk back to a teacher ever again! I promise! I'm sorry, mommy!"

Everyone's face grew dark with instant concern. Tara gently detached her daughter just enough so that she could kneel down to eye level. "Honey, what are you talking about?"

Emily took a few moments to try and calm her breathing. As she did, Willow similarly knelt to her child's side. "My n-new teacher…M-Mr. Gregory… he said our name wrong… b-but I could tell that he did it on purpose…so I talked back to him… I'm sorry! I didn't think that they w-would call all of my parents!"

"Baby-girl," said Willow, trying not to chuckle, "we aren't here because you talked back to Mr. Gregory."

This called Emily down considerably. She took a deep breath, "You aren't?" Her eyes fell to Ghaena and Morrigan. "Is there trouble again? Do you need my help?" Her tiny brow furrowed with the potential seriousness of the matter.

Tara was about to clarify the matter when Ghaena stepped forward. "Yes," she said, quite gravely. "We need your help, Emily."

"We do?" asked Buffy, clearly confused. The priestess raised a hand to silence the slayer.

"Emily, we need your help in finding another mystical land," Ghaena went on.

"What's there?" asked the small redhead, her eyes wide.

"Many amazing things," said the ancient. "There's a great castle, and pirates, and an enormous mountain where lives a treacherous and ghastly snow beast." Emily gasped at the imagery. "So we'd better hurry if we're going to get there in time."

"That's right," added Morrigan, "this time of year it closes before eight."

"Huh?" puzzled the little girl, but then a twinkle started to glow in her eyes and smile started to form on her lips. "You mean?"

"That's right," grinned Willow.

"Emily Rosenberg-Maclay, you just raised the mythic Isle of Avalon," Xander quipped.

'What are you gonna do now?' signed Joseph, merrily.

"I'm going to Disneyland!" Emily cheered, and was instantly swept up into the arms of her parents and all of her friends…

And she didn't even care that she was missing the rest of her day at school.

The End.

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