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: Bester is on the move - and not just in Sunnydale anymore. Willow and Tara need some time to reconnect while Buffy's out on patrol.

Buffy couldn't wipe the huge grin off her face. It had been plastered there ever since her talk with Willow and Tara. She had her Willow back. She had Tara, and the three of them had sorted through all the blame, the guilt and anger that they'd carried around in the time that the young red headed witch was gone. Now they could move on, become one, and finally be happy again.

Buffy couldn't believe this was all really happening. How long, she had she had feelings for Willow, yet never let herself examine those feelings, never let herself even ponder any "what ifs." In the years that she knew Willow, Buffy continued to try to lose herself, and her feelings, in the men that had passed through her life. Each one offering her something that she knew could never measure up to what she held in her heart for Willow. And now she had Tara as well, and the feelings that the blonde witch instilled in her did measure up and made the Slayer wobble on shaky legs at the thought that she could be so lucky to find two such wonderful women that loved her.

Walking across the dark campus, watchful of any movement around her, the Slayer tried to dampen her exhilaration in order to stay focused, yet her mind continued to wander to thoughts of the time she shared with Tara… and then to images and hopes of what being with both Tara and Willow could be like. Buffy had to shake her head more than once to clear the steamy thoughts from her mind.

She took a left, following the cement pathway that zigzagged across the plush greenery of the campus lawns, and continued in her watch, both as security for UC Sunnydale, and protector of the human race.

They worked quickly. Three of Damien Bester's, sent to retrieve one of the ten "Gifts" that would unleash hell on earth.

Tucked safely away, and undetected until now in the UC Sunnydale Anthropology Department's small museum, the palm-sized, lapis disk sat quietly in its case. A square, white note card next to it read: Lapis Lazuli. Early Artwork. Use Unknown. Date Unknown.

In the time since its discovery in the late 1980's, no one had been able to read an accurate date on it, or find anywhere, in any text, as to what it could be. Many professors in the department had doubted highly that it was a mere form of artwork. Lapis had been used in Ancient Egypt for sacred statues and ceremonies, and though it was not impossible to find in North America, Lapis was not native. Some had suggested sending it to experts in other areas of the country, but this being Sunnydale, no one wanted to attract attention. No one wanted to invite trouble, especially if the disk did indeed turn out to be more than just early art.

The disk in question was approximately an inch and a half thick, solid as far as anyone could tell, and measured four inches across. There was a hole in the middle of the disk, not even big enough to slide a pencil through, and from there began a line etched deeply into the dark stone, curving to the left and circling the disk 10 times until it met with the edge. Twelve rectangular squares protruded from around the side of the disk, centered between top and bottom, not more than a half an inch thick, and an inch wide.

Without mouths to speak, the minions shadowed the walls, keeping close, until they reached their destination. The lead pointed with one long scraggly finger to the case, seeing more with his mind, than white eyes allowed him. The two behind him moved without noise save for the shift of their black gowns across the white tiled floor. The case rested against the far wall, housing many other stone artifacts found in and around the Sunnydale area.

The "gift" sat black and silent in the dark room, waiting for its time of use once again. Though there was no illumination to light its features, it glowed a soft iridescent as the hooded figures approached it, sending soft blue shadows across the wall and reflecting back off the glass of the large classroom window to the left of the case.

The case was opened and the stone disk removed, disappearing beneath the gown of the lead. Without a gesture, the dark minions followed their leader back down the corridor, successful in their simple, yet terribly important task.

Willow sat on the couch, nervous still though things had gone smoothly, and much better than she had ever imagined among the three women, and waited for Tara to return with hot, herbal tea. She was tired, feeling drained from the anxiety and excitement at meeting with Tara and then Buffy, but knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. She wouldn't be able to close her eyes and welcome sweet slumber until she saw Buffy arrive home safely, until she could feel the thin blonde in her arms one more time to concrete their kiss from earlier.

She worried about seeing Dawn and Xander again too. She left without a word to any of them, yet they had all wanted her back. Tara and Buffy forgave her, but would the Slayer's sister be willing to do the same? Willow knew she hurt Dawn, had dragged her to Rack's without a thought of her safety, despite the questions and concern Dawn had shot her way. She was sorry for her actions, so sorry it hurt her to the bone, but she ran instead of making amends. Ran in order to stop causing her friends pain. Ran from her guilt.

Now she was back and in the house she'd called home with Tara, Buffy, and Dawn so long ago before her magic abuse hurt the ones she loved. Dawn was at a friend's house and not expected back until much later. That was fine with Willow, because as much as she loved Dawn and wanted to see her again, wanted to tell the youngest Summers just how sorry she was, and ask for forgiveness, Willow was terrified of meeting with her.

"And Xander must be so angry with me for just leaving…" Willow thought, guiltily.

"What are you thinking?" Tara asked, placing the steaming mug on the table in front of the red head.

"Oh." Willow smiled, thankful for the other witch's return. "Nothing really. "A little o-overwhelming, isn't it?" Just tired."

Tara sipped the hot liquid, savoring the spice of cinnamon, never taking her eyes from Willow.

Willow trailed off, remembering her early days in the Scooby gang, when everything seemed so simple. She knew who the bag guys were. She worked alongside the Slayer to defeat them. Somehow she got it all mixed up and started blurring the line between being a good guy and being the bad.

"Hey." Tara placed her hand on Willow's arm, pulling her attention back again. "Everything's going to work out."

Willow turned and looked Tara directly in the eyes. Her green orbs were brimming with tears, ready to spill. The worry and doubt in those eyes made the blonde's heart ache with compassion and love.

"Yes. I do." She leaned forward and kissed each of Willow's eyes, feeling the warm tears on her lips as the red head swallowed back her urge to cry and fell against the warmth of the blonde. "About everything." She added, cupping the other girl's face along her jaw line.

Tara knew Willow wasn't just worried about the prophecy and the very large and in charge evil they were going to have to face. She still hadn't seen Dawn or Xander and even though Tara knew that all would be forgiven, that both would just be happy to have their Willow back, she couldn't deny that it would be very hard on all parties involved.

Tara kissed Willow's temple, first once then two more before moving across her forehead and down the bridge of her nose. Tiny, soft kisses of comfort. Her full lips pressing into the pale features of her love only briefly before moving on. She inhaled deeply, the solely Willow scent she knew so well and smiled against the warm skin as the red head wrapped her arms around the blond and pulled her closer.

The blonde said nothing, opting instead to tip the smaller girl's head back so that they could look into each other's eyes.

And with that, Tara seized Willow's lips with her own and kissed her with all the passion she'd been holding in since their kiss in the back of the Magic Box.

"If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." He scribbled a few short notes on the yellow legal pad in front of him.

He picked up the stained coffee mug to the left of the pad and with a grimace, gulped down the rest of the lukewarm liquid. On the side of the mug was a picture of a cross and the words, "God is Great!" across it. Below that was printed, "First Lutheran Church of Midway, Md."

"And the truth shall set you free." He whispered, pushing himself away from the small pine desk.

Gathering his books and notes, Pastor Conway switched off the lights in his office and headed out through the vestibule. He stopped to rummage in his pocket for the church keys when he heard a large crash from within the sanctuary.

Fifty-two rows of pews on either side of a red runner were between him and the area just in front of the alter. The Twelve Stations of the Cross were colored into the glass lining the walls, mocking Conway as he stood, unable to move.

The top of the alter, a large marble piece brought from a burned out church in some forgotten German city, lay in three pieces. The dust, visible, even in dim lighting, still lingered in the air. Conway looked on as three hooded figures moved about the alter, digging through the apparently hollowed bottom piece.

Finally gaining his voice and his ability to move, the Pastor dropped his books and notes and began a swift run up the center aisle.

"Hey!" was all he cried, though his mind whirled around obscenities, pleas, and threats.

The sanctuary was washed with a soft blue light as one hooded figure removed a round, blue, glowing disk from within the alter base. There was no noise aside from the muted meeting of Conway's patent leather shoes and the red carpeting as he ran toward the three dark figures, hardly washed in blue themselves.

The disk disappeared underneath garment quickly before all three of Bester's minions surrounded the pastor. He swallowed, the sweat breaking out on his forehead, as he realized for the first time, that he was not dealing with neighborhood vandals and thieves. These men were not normal, perhaps not human. He could barely make out their features under the dark hoods in the dim light of the church, but their eyes were completely white, seeming to stare through him, rather than at him.

As they circled him, Pastor Conway recited Psalm 7 quietly to himself, his fear and knowledge that he would die, giving way to his faith in God.

"Oh Lord my God, I take refuge in you; save and deliver me from all who pursue me…" He followed their stalk with his eyes, excepting his fate. "Lest like a lion they tear me in pieces and snatch me away with none to deliver me…"

First one, then the two remaining withdrew daggers slowly and silently. The blades gleamed in the dusk that had settled so still around the praying man. Centuries of blood and murder echoed through the cool steel as the daggers were raised and the hooded figures moved closer.

"God is my shield and defense; he is the savior of the true in heart." Pastor Conway continued.

They took their time, enjoying the smell of fear that wafted off the praying man of God. They enjoyed their tasks when it lead to this, the thrill of bloodshed. And as Pastor Gregory Conway screamed his last plea to his God, Damien Bester's minions basked in their reward.

They barely made it up the stairs. Hands and mouths sought access, aggressive and needy in their pursuit. Soft moans and whispers, begging for more, for now, drifted around them as they made it to the bedroom they once shared. Clothes came off hastily, both women eager to be free of the confining articles, needing to feel flushed flesh against flesh.

Thigh to thigh, stomach to stomach, and breast to breast they stilled and lay silent on the bed. Willow looked down into Tara's large, soulful eyes and blinked back tears, overwhelmed at the intensity of her need for the blonde. She knew this was happening, that she was going to be making love with this beautiful woman she loved and had missed terribly. Part of her brain though, kept knocking around the awful idea that none of this was really happening, that she would wake up in L.A. without a hope of reuniting with any of her friends.

"I'm sorry, I-its… its just that…" Tara, knowing her Willow all too well, knew she had to quiet Willow's fears and make love to her the best she could in order to make her feel safe, feel wanted, and loved. She needed to make sure Willow knew how much she wanted her. Wanted to make love, and wanted to be with her forever.

"Shh…" Tara reached up and placed her long index finger on Willow's lips. "I know you're s-scared and worried. Maybe you think th-this isn't really happening?"

"It is, baby. You're here… with me." Tara let her hands slide down the red head's neck and shoulders. "And I love you, Will."

Her fingertips traced lazy lines down Willow's back, making the witch shiver. Willow's body trembled for the hot figure beneath her. Her sex yearned to feel Tara's touch, to know the blonde witch again after all this time spent apart.

Willow met Tara's mouth, opening quickly to allow for curious tongues. They kissed at length, slow and deep, swallowing each other's moans as they let their hands roam freely over each other's bodies. Their passion flared, conquering any doubts or fears either of them held about their union.

"Uh-uh…" Willow grinned and pushed Tara back on the bed, restraining her wrists. "Let me…" she whispered and Tara relaxed under the pressure.

Willow moved between Tara's legs, pressing into her sex as she kissed down the blonde's neck, licking and sucking the soft flesh into her mouth. She let go of Tara's wrists and found Tara's bountiful breasts instead. She trailed her fingers over the stiff peeks, causing ragged groans. The blond wound her fingers through Willow's red mane, pulling the hair slightly as she enjoyed the tiny bites and kisses her lover was leaving across her chest.

Tara arched her back, pushing her breasts up to meet Willow's mouth as the red head's tongue circled her nipple.

Willow smiled around the stiff flesh before sucking it harshly into her mouth and grazing it with her teeth.

"Oh!" Tara arched up again, and found her own stiff flesh to manipulate when her free hand found Willow's small, pert breast.

The red headed witch moved back and forth, licking and sucking first one nipple, then the other. Tara writhed beneath her, her breathing becoming labored as her wet sex throbbed in need. She pushed her hips up, trying to create more friction, to gain more pressure even though what she really wanted was Willow's hand, wanted her fingers inside her.

Willow slid her hand down Tara's side, traced her fingers along the curves of soft flesh until her hand found the blonde's inner thigh and stroked there gently. She teased with feather light whispers, noting the moisture her fingers caught as they snaked over Tara's trimmed sex.

Cupping the blonde's sex roughly, and eliciting a loud moan from parted full lips, Willow raised herself up, away from Tara's body and looked down at the beautiful body below her.

"You want this?" She asked, pressing into Tara with the palm of her hand. "Oh Goddess! Yes!" Tara writhed, pushing against the hand that held power over her. "Tell me…" Willow ducked her head and pulled at Tara's nipple with her teeth. "Oh! Ohh… please…" Tara bit her bottom lip, moved her hips, and gripped the sheets on either side of her as the pleasure and pain of Willow's rough touches passed through her.

Willow pressed harder, her fingers sinking into the swollen wet folds she knew so well.

"Please, what?" she asked, kissing lightly along the valley between the blonde's breasts.

Without another word, without further teasing, Willow slid her fingers into Tara easily, pushing in as far as she could.

Tara pushed her hips down to meet her lover's touch, sighing in pleasure. She'd dreamt about this union since leaving Willow, the red head always causing her skin to flush, her heart to pound, and her sex to swell and weep in hungry need.

They moved together in rhythm, Willow's fingers sliding in and out of Tara's velvety chamber slow and steady as the blonde's hips rose to meet the thrusts. They became lost in each other; their pleasure, both giving of and receiving, manifesting in a chorus of moans and sighs that rose up between them.

Adding a third finger, the red headed witch quickened her pace and thrust deeper, stretching the blonde around her fingers.

"Oh yes!" Tara cried out, grabbing Willow's shoulder and sinking her nails into the pale, freckled skin.

Willow swiped her thumb back and forth over Tara's engorged button, causing the blonde to buck her hips, meeting the hard thrusts that were causing nothing but pleasure to travel and spread throughout her body. When she felt her orgasm swell in her belly, she threw her head back, moaning loudly.

Willow felt the tension, knew Tara was on the edge. She slammed her fingers into the blonde, her thumb sliding up and over her hard nub at the same time. Two, three, four quick, thrusts and Tara was arching up off the bed, screaming out her release.

Buffy hadn't gotten far when she saw three figures emerge from the Anthropology building. Something about the black, hooded gowns told her all was not right.

"I don't think you're supposed to be in there." Buffy offered with a raised eyebrow, gesturing toward the building. "And those robes do nothing for you." She added, realizing she wasn't dealing with anyone belonging to the student population.

Buffy wasn't in the mood to play around. If these were just another bunch of demons out to perform a ritual to end the world, she wanted to kill them quick and move on.

When the blades were drawn she acted quickly, jumping up in the air and doing a side-kick to the one closest to her, swiftly knocking him back. The dagger fell from his grasp. The Slayer turned quickly, squatted to miss an attack by the second and swept her leg along the ground, effectively laying the third on his back.

The first one reached his dagger, but not before Buffy flipped the second on to his back as well, gaining a blade for herself. She slit his throat quickly, jumped up, did a roundhouse, boot hitting squishy flesh, and dropped the first back down. The second's attack caught her along the shoulder as she was turning, cutting her uniform shirt in one straight line. She grimaced, but anger won out over pain and as the blade came down for another swipe at her, she caught the dark figure's arm, twisting it. When she heard the snap of bone she brought her leg up, kicking the minion in his head, then twisted his arm back around, burying the dagger he held in his chest.

She attacked swiftly, catching him off guard again with her speed. She pummeled his head with her fists, pushing him against the building wall. He tried to reach her with his dagger, but she blocked his attack and knocked it from his grasp. He wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed with a mighty force. She strained against him, wanting to keep him alive to ask questions, but needing more, to survive.

She brought her knee up, connecting with his stomach, but that only made his grip tighten. For lack of anything better to do, the Slayer pressed her thumbs into his demon eyes, using as much force as she could muster until she felt them give way, melting around her fingers.

The minion stumbled back, releasing his grasp on her. He turned as if to run. Buffy leapt and shoulder charged him onto the ground. They landed with a loud thud. She couldn't keep him restrained however, as he continued to struggle and make his way from her grasp.

"Damn!" She thought, hoping to get a few questions answered. She realized though, that there was going to be no end to this fight unless one of them was dead.

The Slayer gained ground and seized his head, twisting harshly until she heard the familiar snap of vertebrae. She let his dead body crumple to the ground, rolled off him, onto her back and finally let herself breath again. Her throat hurt like hell, and she knew she'd have bruises there, even if they'd be gone by the morning.

She moved her flashlight over the still forms on the ground as he massaged the bruised flesh of her neck. None of them had mouths to answer her questions anyway, she noted. Then she saw it. Not more than three feet from where she had dropped the last creature, there lay a stone disk, glowing iridescent in the beam of the flashlight.

She picked up the disk and felt a cold shiver run down her spine. Somehow she knew that this disk held power, was a tool of some kind. She could practically hear the scream of peoples from centuries past and it almost made her drop the object in fright.

Tara, a slick grin on her face, moved up the red head's body, leaving soft kisses along her flat stomach, her firm breasts, the valley in between, and ending finally with Willow's mouth.

"I love you." Tara countered, snuggling in beside her lover, one arm wrapped around the slimmer figure's waist.

"I missed you, Will." Tara kissed Willow's cheek and nuzzled her neck. "I know." Willow swallowed back the fresh lump in her throat. "I-I missed you. You and Buffy. All of you."

Tara didn't say anything, only wrapped her arms around her fellow witch and held her tight. They lay silent for a few minutes, comfortable in the post-coital bliss of their love-making.

"Yeah?" Tara turned her face to look at the questioning girl. "What about us? I-I mean… about Buffy… a-and us?"

Tara didn't know what to say, how to answer the questions that only the three of them could figure out, together. The Slayer and the two witches loved each other, that was clear to see. Tara and Buffy had already been intimate, and Tara definitely wanted to do that again.

She knew Willow and Buffy would want to make love. The thought of the two women she loved in each other's arms made her body ache. But would they be able to work out the three of them, having sex, together?

Willow's mind kept drifting to the kiss she shared with Buffy earlier. The way their lips had met, broken away and met again, massaging and teasing. Their tongues met tentatively at first, as if to ask permission before delving deeper. Willow's body began to hum in a gentle arousal, causing her nipples to stiffen and her heat to grow damp. She had loved Buffy for so long and lusted after her in embarrassed secrecy. There was no end to the stockpile of fantasies she had about the Slayer.

"You want to be with her, don't you?" Asked Tara, trailing her finger up between Willow's breasts.

Willow smiled, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensations Tara's fingers caused her.

"Oh, yes." Tara met Willow's lips one more, kissing her softly. "I want you both."

"Then I guess we'll have to get Buffy in this bed then, won't we?" Willow said playfully, running her hands up Tara's stomach and tracing her fingers along the soft curve of her breast.

Tara shivered. Her arousal spiked again at the thought of Willow and Buffy sharing her bed.

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Rising from the Wreckage

Chapter 19

By RedWillow

Reddwillow@hotmail.com