Rising from the Wreckage

Disclaimer: The characters and show all belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui, et al. No copyright infringement was intended. The storyline, however, is the sole property of the author. This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.

Summary: The Scoobies reach out for Willow while Buffy and Tara comes to terms about certain things.

Tara pressed the mouse button and the laptop made a barely audible chime as the Outgoing Email folder again said 0. She looked around at the faces around her and saw nervous smiles that returned her own. She could feel Buffy on her shoulders, strong hands squeezing softly. She turned back to the computer and logged it off the net and shut it down.

"Now, I g ... guess we wait." she said quietly, and stretched languorously. Hers had been the last email to be sent. Paper and pen hadn't worked, she'd worn out a large notepad trying to say a few simple words. Hoping against hope, she'd clicked the 'send' button, and pushed her heartfelt little electronic package through the net to arrive in a few moments on Willow's laptop in Los Angeles.

"Yeah, I suppose we'll have to wait and see what she does." Xander murmured softly, running his hands tiredly through his unruly hair. Anya stood leaning up against the table next to him, inspecting a dress enthusiastically in a magazine, apparently unconcerned.

"I just hope she doesn't take too long." Giles muttered quietly. "God only knows how little time we have." Buffy began talking.

"Well we knew that. And prophecy or no prophecy, it's still her decision Giles, we can't force ..."

"Decisions be damned!" Giles snapped, pulling the glasses away from his face suddenly, his brows drawn down in a look that belied his inner turmoil. "Do you think we have a choice in this? We are talking about the ap..." Buffy raised her hands in defiance.

"ENOUGH!" Giles blinked like a startled owl caught in torchlight, Buffy's loud and violent outburst catching him off balance, silencing his own tirade. "Enough Giles. I know this means the end of the world if we can't make this happen, it always does!" She ran her hands through the hair at her temples. "It's all we EVER do! But I'm so sick and tired of all the demons and monsters, and all the ... all this ... why can't they just leave us alone ..." Tara suddenly stood up and took Buffy in her arms, holding her close, stroking the back of Buffy's head, not caring that the Scoobies were giving them more and more looks of concern. The sobbed words suddenly disappeared for Buffy, the anger bled away, Tara's arms around her seemed to still the ragged and frayed nerves, forever on the point of shredding to pieces. Looking around the group, Tara shooed them away silently so she could comfort the slayer who was resting her head against Tara's shoulder. She led Buffy to the edge of the bed and sat her down, folding her own dress behind her knees as she sat down beside her, incongruous black leather boots underneath the ruffled dress. She pulled the slayer against her again, and she seemed to melt into her arms. The feeling both disconcerted the Wiccan, and excited her in a way she hadn't felt in quite a while. Buffy wailed quietly.

"Oh Tara. We're meant to be fighting this ... this thing, this ... apocalypse beast guy and I don't know what the hell to do." Buffy sniffed into the ruffles of Tara's shirt. "We're supposed to drag Willow back from LA, and what ... against her will? I can't do that to her. I don't have that right, none of us do, no matter what Giles says, even if it's the end of the world. Willow must decide for herself if she wants us back, it's not about just us, it's her too. She has to want it." Tara cooed in her ear quietly and without thinking about it, kissed the top of Buffy's head.

"No Tar, it's not ok, I want her back, but ... god I don't know ... I ... I'm scared ..." Tara clucked quietly to the slayer.

"W ... we're all scared Buffy, I mean ... a ... apocalypse, that's kinda final ... means a ... a lot of dying..." Buffy shook her head.

"No I don't mean that Tara, dying is easy ..." Buffy pulled away slightly and looked up into the witches' soft blue eyes with her own pale blue torment laden pools. Her voice sank to a barely audible whisper. "I ... I'm scared of ... of what I'm feeling."

"... please please please please ... come back to us, we love you so much, please we need ... "

Willow gulped and leaned back in her chair, absently reaching for the cup of tea without looking. The cup moved by itself across the table into her open hand and she grabbed the handle.

"Thanks Dennis." she mumbled absently, and raised the cup to her mouth to sip a mouthful, grimacing at the bitterness. She'd left it too long. She put the cup down, and stared at the screen again.

This was Dawnie's email. She could feel the girl's heart drenching the text, and it floored her. After the well deserved slap in the face and the dressdown from Buffy, this was not what Willow had expected, Dawn to be begging her to return to Sunnydale. The same with Buffy's email although it had not been as filled with hugs and love, it had been like Buffy normally spoke, meaningful and almost funny, almost tactless at times but full of emotion. Giles' had been heartfelt but terse, something about a catastrophe and he hoped she was doing well. Xander's had been disjointed and she got the feeling he was sore at her, and again she understood why, she had walked away from them all. But Xander had been her closest friend since ... well since forever, he deserved more than her walking out on him, and she deserved to have him be sore at her. Anya's email had been funny in its complete lack of anything resembling tactfulness, but Willow got the impression the heart was in the right place when she wrote it. And then there was Tara's.

Willow closed Dawnie's email and reopened Tara's again for at least the tenth time. It had made her heart constrict and her breath catch in her throat when she had first read it, it did the same now. It was short, the words simple, the meaning so powerful.

'I need you - We can work things out' Willow breathed a huge sigh and blinked rapidly a few times, her eyes were misty and felt hot. She'd spent many tears over the emails already, and wasn't sure she wouldn't spend a few more. Cordy had left her alone while she'd read them, and again afterwards when she had left the red-head a cup of tea.

Willow pulled her bare feet up on the wooden chair and hugged her knees, leaning her head forward, her teeth digging uneven marks into the pale skin as she eyed the computer screen. Could Tara forgive her? Could she forgive Tara? They had both done some dumb things, this was a test to them both, to see whether they could weather this storm. but Tara had waved the first olive branch. 'We can work things out.'

Sighing to herself, Willow put her head down on her knees and sat quietly, she needed some more time, at least to think things through. Could she go back now, was she at peace enough with herself to return? Would they accept her if she DID return? Everyone's well wishing and pleas were enough to convince her of their sincerity but was she ready for it? She wanted to believe that she was, maybe it was time for her to return, there was always so much going on here even compared to Sunnydale. Not to mention the little fact of Wolfram and Hart trying to off her in a quiet parking lot. Maybe it really was time for her to move on.

"What are they doing in there?" Xander's hands were on his hips, he'd been pacing the floor. Giles sat in a chair and steepled his fingers in front of his face, his glasses in his lap. He spoke quietly, in a tired voice.

"Mending, dear boy. There's a lot of pain in that room, and they're trying to come to terms with it." Xander looked down on the watcher and thrust out a pointing finger.

"Yeah well I think that was more like moaning I heard than mending. I mean god, she's ... ewww ... with ... Spike, and now ... this? Why?" Giles smiled and sighed at Xander's outburst.

"Aww nuts with the rhetoric, how come this godamned place drives every good looking chick to become ..." He drew himself up short and suddenly looked to Anya, eyes squinting in suspicion. Anya looked up from her magazine and blinked.

"What? What did I do now?" She frowned in exasperation. Before Xander could say anything, Dawn piped in with annoyance.

"Leave them alone Xander, they've done nothing wrong, they're allowed to be together, they're sad. It's understandable, they've both lost a lot, you ... do strange things when you're not happy, you do weird stuff if you're sad. I know, I did ..." she trailed off. Xander looked sheepishly at the teenager, then sighed and pulled her towards himself in a friendly hug.

"I know Dawnie, and we left you alone too, god how did this all get so twisted? We're the worst friends on earth to each other." Giles pulled out his handkerchief and began polishing his well worn spectacles.

"On the contrary Xander, if you weren't such good friends, we'd all likely be dead by now." He put the glasses on and pocketed the handkerchief again.

Anya shrugged, muttering something almost inaudible and biting, and went back to reading the article she'd been trying to read for the last hour.

"What ... what you're feeling?" The Wiccan didn't pull away but she sure felt like it, she felt herself slowly sagging, wanting to distance herself, detach from the slayer's grip, and yet she wanted so much to hear what Buffy had to say, to see if it confirmed her suspicions. She maintained her hold on the slayer with soft hands on her strong shoulders. Buffy nodded and gulped.

"Yeah, I guess ... I guess I always have ... felt it I mean. But now its different, and I know why." Tara looked at the blonde and nodded slowly, licking her lips.

"I g ... guess we do." She said softly, her heart was sinking, now it looked like even if Willow did came back to her, she'd have another person to fight for her. Buffy looked at her quizzically, eyebrows drawn up in an arch.

"Know Buffy, I should have known it, seen it before. I should have felt it even before this happened. You were always her friend before me ... before I came on the scene." Buffy's eyes opened as dawning and half comprehension fought for supremacy on her face. Slowly her smile spread and her misty tear filled eyes glittered. She sniffed softly.

"Oh Tara, you're only half as clever sometimes as we all think you are." She drew the Wiccan to her and squeezed her tightly, then kissed her cheek softly, and on the sudden spur of the moment, turned herself to face Tara, and letting go of her body and cupping Tara's soft warm beautiful face in her slayer's hands, placed a soft but firm kiss on her lips.

Tara's heart almost leapt clear out of her chest with shock, her throat constricting with apprehension. But she didn't draw away, in fact she found the contact sensual, warm, loving, not crass or craven in any way, it was a kiss such as first time lovers might do, complete with the panic of something almost sinful. Tara's lips softened and she felt herself drawn into the kiss. Everything told her this was wrong, Buffy is the Slayer, she's not ... like this, she's ... that is to say she's not .... she is ... she's a girl, a lonely girl who bore the weight of the world on her slim but powerful shoulders every day. Tara brought her hands up and gripped Buffy's arms softly, warming to the kiss, deepening it and extending it. It was close mouthed, almost chaste, but it had started something, floodgates which were as yet untapped, emotions as yet unplumbed, something had happened here which couldn't be undone, and both girls thought almost exactly the same thoughts, they did not want this to be undone. They now shared something and it felt so very good. Buffy pulled away and turned a bright pink, Tara had turned a bright scarlet, and had let her hair hide her features so only one eye peeped out in embarrassment, but Buffy pulled her face up to look into her eyes, hands pushing her hair away. She spoke volumes in soft tones to the Wiccan.

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Rising from the Wreckage

Chapter 13

By Stefan

Nagarek@optusnet.com.au