Chemistry of Love

Title: Chemistry of Love

Author: Aeryn Sun

Feedback: Sure, be nice though. Flames are for bbq-ing, not criticism. If you can't say something nice, choke and die. :)<j/k>

Archiving: You want this piece of crap? Well, ask first, I'll say yes, I just want to know where it goes. I might like to visit and bring candy. Chocolate.

Rating: PG, I guess. Nothing bad, just mild angst.

Pairing: B/W, who else is there? <bg>

Status: Complete and un-beta'd

Spoilers: Everything up to and including The Gift. I have no idea how they're going to resolve that episode, but I look forward to it. If any of this story contains spoilers for Season 6, which I doubt it does, I apologize.

Summary: Buffy's POV about why we love the people we do and how she arrived where she is now.

Author's notes: Two really important facts for you to know: while I have written fanfic for other shows, I've never written for BtVs before and I have never written anything even remotely slash so please, bear with me. I have recently read so much great BtVs fiction both slash and gen that I felt the need to give it a try. I hope you can forgive my paltry attempt to stand in such wonderful company. (Am I pouring it on too thick? <eg>)

Warning/Disclaimer: If the idea of a relationship between two women that goes deeper than friendship is offensive or bothers you, man, are you lost! The Prude Power mailing list is over there:::points to the far right:::: Leave now or forever be sucked into the Alt universe. I wasn't fast enough and look at me now (not that I'm complaining ;)) Characters do not belong to me, they belong to Joss and Mutant Enemy. Goddess bless them.

Author's Note #2: I wrote this intending it to be one thing and it somehow took on a life of its own. Not that that's a bad thing, tho. It might be a little too mushy, I can't tell. And if either one of these two say or do something slightly out of character, sorry, I just figure dying might change Buffy a little. Oh, well.

What is it exactly that makes us fall in love with a certain person? I mean, it has to be a lot of things, right? It's not just how a person looks because if it were, then there'd be a lot of lonely people out there. Let's face it, and I'm not saying this to be mean, but there are some ugly people out there. And it would be very unfair to people who didn't meet the demands of society to measure up to some stupid idea of what `attractive' is if love was based on physical appearance alone. Then those people would be doomed to a life of never ending singles mixers and microwave dinners for one.

Stuffy men in equally stuffy white lab coats who refer to themselves as scientists would like you to believe that love is a chemical reaction between the pheromones of two individuals. Maybe that has something to do with it, I don't know, I was never good at science, especially chemistry. But that can't be the only thing either. Hey, it works for animals, I suppose. I guess that's why dogs' smell each other's butts so much, it's a way of introducing themselves and saying `Hi'. I can't see it working in the human world though. Walking into a fancy dinner party and sniffing the host's ass would be frowned upon. Not to mention a scary visual place to visit. If all we relied on were how our brains registered the smell of another person, a smell that most of the time we don't notice, than why would we bother to date someone or get to know them? We should just be able to walk into a room and see that person, smell their pheromones and BAM, instant husband/wife. But it doesn't work that way.

Most of the time, and I say `most of the time' because there is that one in a million, `our-eyes-met-across-the-room-and-it-was-love-at-first-sight' type of thing that happens from time to time, ask Tommy and Pamela Lee. But most of the time we meet someone and yes, something must intrigue us enough so that we want to get to know someone better. Based one that something, and this is probably where someone's looks and pheromones factor in, we either date or become friends with this person and get to know them. But what is it from there that takes us from friendship to love?

I've eliminated physical appearance and chemical theories, so what does that leave me? Let's start at the most basic: gender? I don't know about you but I'm really starting to think gender doesn't matter. I mean if it did, we wouldn't have cool shows like `Queer as Folk' or celebrity couples like Ellen and Anne or Melissa and Julie. Hmmm…bad choices, I suppose, both relationships are over. Anyway, my point is that maybe love is oblivious to gender. Maybe whatever it is that makes you fall in love with someone (and I'm talking about the all-encompassing, mind-blowing, I-would-do-anything-for-you, die-for-you/without-you love that so few of us experience) isn't concerned with gender or society's moral issues. Maybe it just cares about your soul. According to some things I've read (which isn't much but, studying isn't my thing either) we're supposedly going through life searching for the other half of our souls, our soulmates. And we're reborn over and over again until we find that person and get things right. Stands to reason that every once in a while, you'd end up as the same gender, law of averages being what it is and all. It'd be kind of stupid to lose your chance of getting your journey right simply because of something as trivial as gender. I mean, we're talking about your soul here, and there are way too may people out there that don't have even half a one to begin with. Trust me, I know this much for sure.

Look at me, being all thoughtful and deep. Who'd of thought I had it in me? I guess that after everything that has happened to me recently I have questions that beg to be answered. But the one I really want to know is why we fall in love with the people we do? Granted I haven't made the best choices so far. Most of the men I choose seem to dark sides that make Darth Vader look like a Teletubbie. Oh, scary visual place again. Got to stop that. Truthfully, I think I was looking for something I didn't need. It started with the dark brooding type, the one that was strictly forbidden. That's what made him so appealing. And I really did love him, at the time. But I saw his dark side and it was too much. Too dangerous, even for me. While I understand that he had no control over what happened to him, I still never can look at him the same way. Not without seeing what he had become and remembering the hurt he caused me and those closest to me. After that, I had a couple other boyfriends but nothing ever really energizing or interesting and then I had a few flings. Then I chose the direct opposite from bachelor number one. I picked the bland, white bread, country-boy. I think that time I was looking for something `safe' in my ever changing, increasingly dangerous, and hectic life. Then it turns out he's just as bad as bachelor number one and what makes it worse is he did have some control over his choices and he chose to lie and deceive me. True, I did my share of lying and deceiving too, but, but I did it out of concern for him and my friends and family. He did it for `the greater good'. I honestly think the `greater good' thing is overrated. Yeah, sure, I work for the same thing but I'd like to think my motives were more pure. I don't know anymore.

I'm drifting away from my original question, though. It's not looks, it's not chemistry, and it's not gender. I think it has something to do with personality, at least a little. Who a person is as an individual is infinitely more important than what they look like. Trust me, I used to live in L.A. You can look like a supermodel but if there's nothing beneath the surface it's pointless, not to mention impossible to get to know someone. They're like a walking piece of driftwood but usually with better hair and an expensive wardrobe. Just look at Gwynth Paltrow. Yeah, I think who a person is is definitely an important factor. Just look at who I'm with now. Someone who was in front of me the whole time; the one person who stood by my side through everything, no matter how crazy or dangerous; someone who didn't let something as trivial as death stop them from caring for me; someone I never realized I cared for so deeply until it was nearly too late. I'm torn from my silent musings when I hear the keys in the front door. I know Dawn is still at school so I know it's not her. Only one other person has keys to the house. A person who has had keys since high school, in case of an emergency, but now they use them because this is their home too. The person I trust most with my soul, my everything.

"Hey," she says as she flops down in the armchair in front of me. And yes, I did say `she'. That's why I think gender is a non-issue.

"Hey," I answer back, suddenly unable to form any other coherant words around the rising lump of emotion in my throat. Looking at her now, all I feel is that all-encompassing, mind-blowing, I-would-do-anything-for-you, die-for-you/without-you love I mentioned earlier. Only with her, it's more. I know she's my other half. I can't explain it but I feel it. I hate to sound all Jerry Maguire on you and stuff but she really does complete me. She's strong where I'm weak; she's calm when I want to lash out and kill something; she makes me feel like I'm the only other person on the planet and like I'm her universe. It takes my breath away everytime she looks at me with those eyes that say so much without a sound. She smiles at my inability to verbalize and I can't help but smile back.

"How was your day?" she asks quietly, knowing that I'm still adjusting to everything. Being back hasn't been easy. But she is so patient and loving with me that I know I will get through this with her help, like she's helped me through so much else. She holds me when the nightmares haunt me and cause me to wake screaming like a banshee at all hours. She holds me close and tells me that everything will be all right again and I believe her because she says she loves me. I can't help but wonder what I ever did to deserve her love.

"Same old, same old. Just sitting around being a homebody for a change. It's kind of nice." I tell her honestly, although it's not as nice as when she is here with me. She smiles at me again and I swear I can feel the love radiating from her like the sun on the shore. And I bask in the warmth that she gives me. God, I'm getting all mushy. Eww. "How about yours?" I ask, genuinely interested. She sighs and my heart breaks at the plaintive sound. I would give anything right down to my soul to keep her from ever being sad again. I hope she knows that, although after all the trouble she went through to get me back, she'd probably be upset if I did so.

"I helped Tara pack the last of her stuff up. I'm glad that we parted as friends, but I can't help but feel guilty about hurting her." Willow tells me quietly. That's my best friend for you, always worried about other people even when she herself is hurting. I won't lie to you; a part of me is glad Tara's leaving Sunnydale and moving east where she can live with relatives who don't frown on her Wicca activities. While I thank her for helping Will and I to finally find each other, I can't help but be jealous of her on some level. Jealous of the time she had with Willow when I was too blind and, if I'm honest with myself, scared, to face how I really felt. But I'm grateful that she opened my eyes. After she and Willow, along with everyone else rescued me from where ever it was I went to after I died to save Dawn, Tara was strangely quiet and distant from Willow. It was only later that I learned that Willow took my death extremely hard and realized that she loved me as more than a best friend. I guess she told Tara that she loved me and that their relationship was important to her but could never replace or compare to what she wanted with me. I heard this from Dawn, talk about awkward conversations to be having with your baby sister. Dawn told me Will was inconsolable for a while after I died and that they worried about her health. Tara got over her hurt and together with Willow, found a way to get me back. I guess in a way, I owe Tara my life. She wanted to make Willow happy again and if that meant rescuing me so that I could be with Willow then, that's what she'd do.

I suppose I should explain how I came to the conclusion that I loved Willow. Well, I always loved Willow but I knew for a while that I was in love with Willow. But putting it into words was difficult. I never thought of myself as gay or even bi so I spent a long time confused over it. It was sometime after Oz left and she was so hurt that the feelings got too strong to remain unnamed. I hated him for doing that to her, hurting someone so innocent and gentle that she'd never intentionally hurt anyone. Hell, she feels bad to some extent when she kills a vamp or demon. But we were in the dorm one night and I thought she was asleep. I was watching her when I felt, rather than saw (it was dark, you know) her eyes open and look at me.

>>>>>
"Go to sleep, Buffy. I'll still be here when you wake up. I promise." She said tiredly. I realized then that she'd known I was awake and watching her for some time.

"Sorry, Will. I'm just worried about you." I heard her sigh. That sound again that I love and hate at the same time. I love it because it's unique to Will, but I hate it for the pain behind it.

"Don't bother. You know me. Dependable Willow. I'll be fine a few days and back to my perky Wicca research girl self." My heart lurched to my feet. Don't bother? How far had my Willow fallen? Then I replayed that sentence in my mind. My Willow? When did I get so possessive? Somewhere between Trig and Psych class, I imagine.

"Will, please don't say you're a bother, because you're not. You're my best friend and I care about you. I hate to see you in pain." Another sigh. I heard her shift position in her bed. She was on her back now, not facing me anymore.

"Buffy, I'll be fine. Oz left me but I'm not dead. I may wish Iwere…" Argh, I couldn't even fathom the thought.

"Stop it, Will. Please, don't even…" I couldn't even finish the sentence. The thought of not having Willow in my life cut off my air supply and it felt like someone was sitting on my chest. I heard her move again and realized she was now crouched by my bed.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I didn't mean to upset you. I just…" I reached out a hand to stroke her cheek, in a purely friendly, comforting way, I assure you. Or at least told myself at the time. I didn't notice then how she seemed to lean into my hand.

"I know, Willow. I understand. I just don't want to think of my life without you." I felt a tear brush my hand and I realized she was crying. "Oh, Will, please don't cry." I nearly begged. She layed her head on my bed and I stroked her soft hair for a few minutes. When she finally looked at me again, she managed to smile at me. I smiled back, glad to see a hint of my Willow again. There's the `my Willow' thing again. By now that little voice in the back of my head was yelling at me about how I really felt, but like always, I ignored it at the time.

"Promise me one thing and I'll promise to feel better." She told me quietly. I nodded.

"Anything Will. The sun, the moon, the stars. Name it and it's yours. Anything you want. Except Mr. Gordo. I'll share with him you though." That had the desired effect and she laughed.

"OK. Buffy, promise me that you won't ever abandon me like Oz did."

"Oh, Willow, you know I can't promise not to die. I would but I'm the Slayer. My shelf life is like, expired. I'm rancid milk, Will. Any day now I'm going to start making the fridge smell funny and…" she put her hand over my mouth.

"No, Buffy. I understand that. And you don't smell funny. I mean, don't hurt me and then run away. Please." She was begging and my heart was breaking.

"I would never hurt you, Willow. Ever. And I will never run away from you again. I did that once, didn't go over well, remember?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Buffy." She stood up and headed to her own bed. "Good night, Buff. Get some sleep." I didn't understand why I said what I did next at the time. I do now though.

"Only if you sleep over here," I saw her jump and pause, questioning the strange request. "I'll sleep better knowing you're not over there crying to yourself. Besides, Willow, you held me when I cried for Angel, please let me do this for you." She nodded walked back over. I pulled down my covers and she crawled in next to me.

"Definitely warmer over here, anyway. Night, Buffy." She settled in next to me. I smiled into her hair.

"Good night, Willow," and I realized as I felt her fall asleep that she meant more to me than I ever believed.
>>>>>>

And I lived with that from then on. I was afraid to tell her about my feelings because her friendship meant so much to me. Through all the craziness that is my life, Will had always been my rock, my stability. I knew that no matter what, she'd be there for me. I wasn't willing to destroy that simply because I couldn't control my emotions. Besides, I was sure she didn't feel the same way. She never gave any indication otherwise and I didn't want her to hate me or be disgusted by me. I was scared to lose her, scared to be that open and honest. Yeah, that's me, Buffy Anne Summers, Vampire Hunter and Chosen One who can face a nest of vamps or any other kind of horror the Hellmouth could throw at me with a smile and a witty remark. But when it comes to my feelings, I'm mentally deficient. Emotionally unavailable and utterly pathetic, yeah, that was me.Then I watched her begin her relationship with Tara as I dated bachelor number two, Riley and was initially surprised that Will had fallen for a girl. Then I figured I lost my chance. I mentally kicked myself, repeatedly, but I dealt with that too. It pained me to know that Will was in love with someone who wasn't me while I couldn't get past my feelings for her. Riley was just a distraction from Willow. But some small part of me hoped maybe one day if it didn't work out with Tara, I would get the courage to tell Willow how I felt and everything would be all right. I held on to that slim hope. Then I died. Seems I can never do things halfway. All the way Buffy, yup that's me. Although probably not the best way to put it. Coming back from my mental space odyssey, I put my hand on her knee in comfort.

"I know, Will. She's a good friend and we both owe her a lot," I tell her. Willow looks at me with those luminous green eyes and rewards me with one of her brilliant smiles. I feel all the doubt; fear and general bad feelings that usually surround me lift away in the glow of her smile. She places her hand over mine.

"I thanked her again. For letting go. She says she's happy that we finally figured things out. Apparently, Tara knew you had feelings for me and suspected that I might feel the same way. She's just sorry that it took such a horrible thing to bring us together."

"Yeah, nothing like dying an excruciatingly painful death to make you see things in your life with a crystal clarity," I try to joke. I don't know why I feel the need to hide my pain and discomfort behind sarcasm and somewhat questionable wit. I just do it. And as I watch a wave of horror and pain flash across Willow's beautiful and expressive face, I instantly hate myself for it. I see her eyes brim with unshead tears and I'm immediately on my knees in front of her, trying to chase that pain away. Pain that I've caused, however inadvertently.

"Oh God, Will, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that. I shouldn't have said that. I'm so stupid," I tell her, wrapping my arms around her waist. "Please, baby, don't cry. Please." My own voice is cracking. I promised I wouldn't hurt her and I just did with my own careless words. I feel her wrap her arms around my shoulders and hug me.

"You're not stupid, Buffy," she tells me patiently as she places a gentle kiss on the top of my head. She pulls away a little and uses her hand to tilt my face to look up into hers. The tears are gone and she's smiling again. "OK, maybe you sometimes speak before you engage your brain, but you're not stupid." I smile back, taking the kidding in stride. I stare into those eyes of hers and I'm lost. Hopelessly, utterly lost. I could drown in those emerald pools and not care. As long as I'm with Willow, I feel safe. She is my home, my north, my center and my core. I realize as I'm thinking this that she's blushing.

"What's the matter, Will? You're turning an alarming shade of red, almost matching your hair."

"You're staring," she tells me sweetly and now it's my turn to blush.

"Oops," I start, "sorry." Looking at her now, I want to tell her every little thought in my head. How much I love her, how I can't imagine my life without her and I never want to. How everything I do, everything I've ever done is for her. I open and close my mouth a few times in what I imagine is a pretty good imitation of a fish before I can form any words.

"Will, I," oh good, two whole words. Let me try again. "I want to say so much…I need for you to know, to understand how…" again I faulter, the words that should come so easily failing me. I gesture with my hands, exasperated at my inability to communicate. I seem to be periodically struck with a selective form of aphasia that only occurs when my emotions are involved. She smiles that Willow smile, the one that tells me that she understands. She's seen me like this a lot lately. So much to say, so few functioning braincells. It's sad, really, big bad Buffy reduced to hand signals and grunts to communicate. Oh, flashback to Cave Slayer. I laugh a little at that thought and try again.

"I love you, Willow." I manage to say before, once again, I can't find the words.

"I know you do, Buffy. I love you too." My heart soars to uncharted heights at those simple words coming from her. But saying those words to her aren't enough for me. Having lost my mother and left so much unsaid between us, it's extraordinarily important to me for Willow to understand the depth of my feelings. It goes beyond love. I need her to know that. I look back up at her and will her to understand.

"No, Will, you don't understand. I love you but it's so much more. I need to tell you, you have to know…" she pulls me closer, into her lap and I happily oblige her. Willow leans closer to me so that our foreheads are touching.

"No, Buffy, you don't need to say anything." I open my mouth to protest but she places her fingers over my mouth. "Shush, Buffy. You don't need to say anything because I know." She tells me, her breath warm against my face. She looks deep within my eyes and repeats herself. "I know, Buffy." And looking into her eyes, so filled with love, love for me, I believe she does. My heart feels like it will burst out of my chest at the realization that she feels the same way that I do.

"God, Wills," I breathe. The feeling is overwhelming. She chuckles a little and then kisses me. The kiss is gentle but filled with so much emotion, so much passion and acceptence that I start to cry. Willow reached up and brushed my tears away with her thumbs, her own tears staining her cheeks.

"You need to understand, Buffy. You are my heart, my soul and without you I am only half of what I could be." She whispers to me. "I love you more than I ever believed it possible to love anyone. You don't need to explain anything to me because I all ready know." I sink against her in relief. I know I'm home, I'm safe and loved and that's all I need. Not even the baddies that we deal with everyday can destroy or take away what I have with Willow. Not even death will, I know that now, and while I'm glad to be alive, I thank God as I lie here in her arms that I died. I never would have realized the truth otherwise.

Did I find the answer to my original question? Yes and no. I know what it's not; I know what it could be. What I do know for certain is that I love Willow because she's Willow. It's not her looks (although she is simply breathtaking, no doubts there), I have no clue about pheromones, and the fact that she's female shoots the whole gender thing to Hell. I love Willow for Willow, her everything, her soul. I think on some level, I have loved her this way since the day I met her and asked for her help with my schoolwork. I chose her friendship over Cordielia and her in-crowd for more than one reason. I think it was because my soul saw its other half in her. But I bet you're probably wondering how or when it was that we told each other how we felt. I'd love to tell you, really, but that, as they say, my friends, is a story for another day. Right now, I'm just going to stay here with my Willow and the world be damned. For this moment in time at least. I'll go back to `work' later. It's not like the undead are going anywhere. And neither am I. Not for a long time, I promise you that Willow. With everything I am.

From Aeryn: I apologize if you have a sudden need for insulin. Like I said, I started this intending it to go differently and well, they started talking and this whole thing took on a life of it's own. Let me know what you think, though. If anyone's interested, I'm thinking of maybe writing the same story from Willow's POV and/or a separate story about them admitting how they feel about each other after Buffy returns

the Other Element

Summary: Willow's POV during Chemistry of Love. Ding ding, round two.

Author's notes: OK, since you guys were SO nice to me regarding Chemistry of Love and I did say I might write another one, here it is. It's not quite the same as my first story and probably not as good but I hope you like it. All of the dialogue is the same and some of the thoughts are too. No, I wasn't being lazy I was trying to illustrate how they really do feel the same way about each other. Oh, Hell, just go read it. <g> My muse is apparently hopped up on cherry Mountain Dew, in case anyone was wondering. And please excuse my spelling, I don't have spell check.

~~~~~

Sometimes I wonder what it was that I did to deserve the wonderous life that I have now. It certainly isn't anything like what I imagined when I was younger. I had resigned myself at an early age to forever be an outcast. It's not that I wanted it that way, it was just how things were. From the day I started kindergarten I was always on the outside looking in. The unpopular, uninteresting, invisible girl, yeah, that was me. Even my best friend who was an outcast alongside me never saw me. I mean really saw me. But you know, that was OK because I had my books and then computers and they would never call me names like loser and bookworm. In the books I read I could imagine myself as the fair maiden and know that the Prince would fall for me by the end, even if the prince in my real life was remarkably oblivious.

Contrary to what you might think, being the school pariah isn't all that bad. True I was harrassed endlessly about everything from my clothes to my hair to my religion and choice of friends but, I was also left alone to do my own thing most of the time.

Because I knew that I would never meet the standards of people like Cordelia I never felt the need to conform. I didn't have to have the best shoes, best clothes or that sort of thing. I didn't have to look a certain way or behave the way they wanted me to. In an odd way, I was free. On some level I may have been envious of what they did have, but they weren't free. They had to conform, so I felt sorry for them. Maybe it's not the best way to look at it, the whole experience was hurtful at times but that's the way I feel about it. Being bitter or angry about it won't change anything and I understood that very early too. So I just continued on my merry way, content to live in high school hell knowing that it couldn't last forever. At least I hoped it wouldn't.

Of course, things have a way of changing when you're paying the least amount of attention. I was at school minding my own business, which I did a lot of since it helped me disappear from the popular kids' radar, when she walked in. The new girl that Cordelia was showing around. I had all ready figured that she'd be another one of Cordy's clique, ready to make fun of me for the way I looked, acted, or breathed. But then she surprised me and asked me, me, invisible wallflower girl, for help with her schoolwork. I looked at her and I didn't see the same cruel light I saw in the eyes of the popular kids; I saw warmth, compassion, and most surprising, kindness. I wasn't used to seeing that in the people around me. No, not everyone around me was an unbearable ogre (at least not yet). I got along really well with my teachers and Xander but no one else my own age was really nice to me. Here was the new girl who was obviously pretty and nice who didn't know me but had just given up any possibility of ever being popular simply by speaking to me. She didn't have to do that, but she did. Why? I don't know. I guess because she's Buffy.

Then I discovered who Buffy really was, and I don't mean that she's the Slayer, the Chosen One destined to repeatedly save the world. That's inconsequential, a given, like the sky looks blue because of the refraction of the light or pi is infinite. No, I mean I got to know who Buffy is as a real flesh and blood person, not as a personage written about in a dusty book of Giles' or as a reluctant superhero. I have been privy to the many different aspects that make up my best friend. The shattered mirror that is so uniquely her. She is so incredibly loving but she can be cruel if you hurt those she cares for. She's strong and yet has this weakness within her that makes me want to hold her and protect her from all the horror in our lives. She is amazingly brave but I know the fear that lurks beneath the sarcasm and wit. She is very wary of letting anyone see the person beneath the persona, but I have seen it. She makes it all come together in a way that makes her the most beautiful and wonderous being on this planet. But it is true, what they say. You never really understand or realize exactly what you have until it's taken away. I didn't, not really, until it was almost too late.

I have always been drawn to Buffy. I'd like to say it's like a moth to a flame but since that usually ends in pain for the moth and Buffy would never cause me pain, intentionally, I'd rather say that she is like this magnetic force that constantly draws me closer and I'm powerless to resist. When Xander and I discovered her destiny and all that stuff, we stayed with her when she expected us to run away. I did it for a couple of reasons; some I didn't understand then and still don't now. What I do know is that I couldn't walk away from her then and I know I never will. I wanted to stand beside her against all the evil and nasty things that would eventually come our way because it was the right thing to do, and because I felt I could make a difference. It really is a good fight. She always made me feel important even if the only thing I had to offer was my Research Girl routine, and then eventually my Wicca skills. I may not have been the big bad Slayer but Buffy included me in the things that were important. And I loved her for the way she made me feel: safe, included, and loved in return.

My feelings for Buffy didn't change overnight. I didn't wake up one day and go `Yeah, I'm bi and gee, I think I'm in love with my best friend' (and I don't mean the `I-love-you-like-a-sister' type of thing). The love that I'm talking about comes from so far within you aren't aware that it exists until it grows and expands then takes your breath away in a single soul-searing instant. I knew I loved Buffy and I knew I was in love with her for a long time. It grew over time until eventually I just couldn't ignore it anymore. Granted I was never going to tell her about it. I was too afraid that after facing all the terrible things she'd seen that the thing that would repulse her the most, would be me. That would have killed me, no doubt about it. I can deal with almost everything: vampires, werewolves, demons, warlocks, robots, psychos, you name it. But the thought of Buffy's rejection and having her hate me would be too much. I need her in my life and if that meant having her only as my best friend and never anything more, I was happy with that.

You know, it bothered me a little when I realized that my feelings towards Buffy were somewhat outside what society deems normal. Not that I cared what society thought, I already told you that I was never `normal'. But this meant I was more than just a `popularity challenged' individual. Falling in love with another woman meant I was gay, or at least bi. Let's not forget about Oz, I really did love him and I have been attracted to or crushed on other guys as well. And then we all met that wonderful (and I say that with a sense of sarcasm that Buffy would be proud of) alternate version of myself, Vampire Willow. I was telling the truth when I said to Buffy that Vamp Me was skanky. And the whole `And I think she's kinda gay,' comment I made, well, dur! I mean, she couldn't have been more obvious if she was wearing a huge neon sign that said "Vampire Pride" across it complete with a rainbow. The fact that she obviously liked to play in the `other' sandbox scared me. I was very happy in my own sandbox, thank you very much. But she did make me wonder. And I heard what Angel was going to say about a vampire's personality having some basis in their original one even before Buffy cut him off. (Don't think I didn't notice that, either. Naive? Yes. Oblivious? Not always.) So as my feelings for Buffy grew I remembered Vampy me and came to the conclusion that it had nothing to do with society. I could care less, really. Vamp me was still me, just taken to another extreme. Denying what was obviously true about myself would only serve to give me stomach pains and tension headaches, both of which I really don't need.

And now, as I park my car in the driveway, I say thank you to my other self and hope, well, honestly I hope someone staked her before she killed too many people in her own universe. I really don't need the phantom blood on my hands. Or to have her pop up again in this universe to wish me a Happy Birthday. But I shake the babbling thoughts from my mind, wondering, of course how I can possibly babble in my own brain but apparently I can. I get out of the car and as I sort through my keys, it hits me again: these are the keys to the house that I live in. Not my parents house, but hers. Buffy's house where I now live with her and her sister. I've always had a set just in case anything happened, that sort of thing. I only had to use them a few times, usually when Buffy lost hers. Now I use them everyday when I return to the most important person in my life. She is my soulmate, my center and my heart.

"Hey," I say as I flop down in the armchair in front of Buffy. She's sitting on the couch and the sun is streaming through the window behind her lighting her hair like some sort of halo. I wonder if she's aware of how innocent and angelic she looks sitting there like that. I know she was thinking about something important when I came in, it's written on her beautiful face. She's spent a lot of time thinking lately, which is a little unusual for her. Not that she doesn't think, because she does, quite frequently actually. OK, Will, you're babbling again. It's just; lately she seems bothered by something. But then, I can't blame her. She did die again. That's bound to disturb even the most resilient of persons.

"Hey," she answers back simply. From the way she's looking at me I can tell she wants to say more but Buffy's never been good at expressing herself with words. Besides, her eyes tell me everything I'll ever need to know. Her eyes have this look to them that words could never do justice to. When she looks at me like the way she is right now, those grey pools look almost ethereal, glowing with a love so deep it hurts to look at them. I can see everything she feels, everything she wants to say. I see straight down to her soul and it's beautiful. I smile at her, hoping to let her know all of that.

"How was your day?" I ask quietly, not really trusting my voice and knowing that she's having more than her far share of bad days readjusting. Being brought back from the dead tends to make you feel a bit awkward, I imagine. If I could make all the pain and uncertainty disappear, I would. I'd give anything, down to my soul if it would give Buffy a moments peace. Frightening thing is, I almost did do just that to get her back. But it was worth it to be able to see her, touch her and be with her again. I try to help her through it, holding her when she has nightmares so horrific that her screams chill me to the center of my being. I try to reassure her the best that I can and I can only pray to the Goddess that it's enough. And again, I can't help but wonder what I ever did to deserve her love.

"Same old, same old. Just sitting around being a homebody for a change. It's kind of nice." She tells me. Inactivity and Buffy are not a pretty mixture. But she's dealing pretty well. Won't be too much longer until she's back to her old Slayer self. While I'm glad she's recovering, a part of me is scared about her returning to her `duties'. I don't know if I could survive anything happening to her again. I smile again, can't help it, she does that to me. I get all giddy and light headed knowing that she's mine and that she loves
me.

"How about yours?" she asks, genuinely interested. I sigh because my day was tough. I don't want to bother her with it but looking into those expressive eyes again I know that Buffy won't rest until I tell her. Besides, she knows where I went today and what I did; she's just letting me tell her in my own way. And if I truly didn't want to talk about it, she wouldn't make me. That's one of the things I love about her, her willingness to let me be me, with all my faults and all my fears and never makes me feel silly or stupid about them.

"I helped Tara pack the last of her stuff up. I'm glad that we parted as friends, but I can't help but feel guilty about hurting her." I tell Buffy quietly. I feel so bad about hurting Tara. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be sitting here now with the person who I love more than my own life. Yes, I had dealt with my bisexuality on my own terms, theoretically but Tara helped me see that my feelings, while not in sync with society's norms, were right and true and that I had nothing to be ashamed about. And she helped me get Buffy back. She told me that she knew getting Buffy back would make me happy and that was all she ever wanted. I took Buffy's dying really bad and probably would have followed her to the grave if it hadn't been for Tara. No, I wouldn't have killed myself but I believe now, more than ever, that you can die from a broken heart. I almost did. I hated that I'd never had the chance to tell Buffy the truth about my feelings and I cursed myself for being a coward. Tara, Goddess bless her, understood and wasn't angry when I told her the truth that I was in love with Buffy and not her. My love for Buffy is like nothing I have ever felt, heard about or read about. And while I care deeply for Tara, she admitted to me that she knew I would never love her completely because my heart and soul belonged to Buffy. And she was absolutely right.

Remember that a single soul-searing instant I mentioned earlier? Well, it didn't happen in the heat of battle against whatever abomination the HellMouth decided to throw at us. No, it happened during one of those quiet little moments that we seem to experience far too infrequently. We were in the middle of a lull, and we were all loving it. No demon activity, no vamps and school was relatively slow. Buffy and I were sitting in the dorm room watching videos, talking about nothing and everything, and eating ice cream. I was also spending the quiet time indulging in my favorite hobby, Buffy-watching. I think it's a past time that will one day rival baseball and stamp collecting in popularity. And I'll be president of the Buffy Summers Admiration Society. I wonder what the job perks will be?

Anyway, we were halfway through the second pint of double chocolate-chocolate chip ice cream when she turned to me and gave me one of those looks where she's looking at you but she's also looking straight into your soul. It's the look where you know that a bomb could go off in the next room but she won't notice because she's focused on you. I squirmed a little under the scrutiny because I thought I'd been caught staring. And then she surprised me, as she's often prone to doing.

>>>>>

"Will, can I ask you something? It's kind of of a personal matter type thingie." Well, that's a stupid question. Why would she need my permission to ask me a personal question? She knew almost everything about me, except maybe the whole `I-love-you-so-much-it-hurts' thing I had going on. Of course, if I hadn't been surprised so much by the request, I would have noticed she was nervous, which is unusual in of itself.

"Sure, Buffy. You know you can ask me anything. We're best friends. You can ask anything and I'm obligated to answer you honestly. Kind of goes with the job." She smirks at me.

"It does, does it?"

"Yup, says so on my union membership card, wanna see?" She shakes her head and then gets serious again. Uh-oh, Serious Buffy. Now I know I'm in for something. `Serious Buffy' rivals only my `Resolve Face' in getting things their own way.

"Do you believe in fate?" Huh? This from someone who spends half her time chasing destiny's and prophecy's? She waves her hand in the air as if in response to my thoughts. Spooky. "And I don't mean `the Slayer must die if the Umpa-Lumpa get loose' or some crap. I mean," and she paused like she was trying to collect her thoughts from inside that brilliant mind of hers. Oh, yeah, sure she tries to say she's not smart and all that but you go to high school with someone and then room with them in college. When you see someone write a ten-page report on Mayan civilization the morning said paper is due after patroling for demons and nasties and still get a B- on it, you tell me that person isn't smart. No? I didn't think so. "Will, I mean…" Another pause. By now I was wishing she had a `Play' button I could press because the pauses were starting to bother me and I really wanted to know what it was she wanted to say that was so hard for her. It's not like Buffy to be so unsure. She took a deep breath and tried again.

"Will, you're into all that Wicca stuff and how there's a balance to life, right?" I nodded.

"Yup, that's me. Willow the Wicca. Sure, there's balance to everything, Buff. Some people call it ying and yang or good and evil, but everyone has a name for it. Why?" This was going to be good, I could feel it. I was going to see something new in Buffy. Whatever it was that got her this flustered had to be pretty big and I hoped that I'd be able to help her with it. That was my ultimate goal in life, you know, to always be there to help her. And I really don't care if that sounds cheesy, either.

"Right. What I want to know…I've been thinking a lot lately about…well not a lot lately but you know, generally a little more than usual that…" I put my hand on her shoulder and tried not to giggle.

"Hey, Buffy, you're babbling. I'm the chronic babbler here, don't try to take my job," I say with a wide smile, trying to soothe her. "Take a deep breath and just ask me or say whatever it is you want to. You know I'll listen." She sighed in relief and returned my smile.

"Thanks, Wills. OK, if there's a balance to everything then, according to some beliefs, we're not balanced as individuals, right?" I raised my eyebrow in slight confusion. I had a hunch what she was asking but she was being a little too vague for even me to follow closely.

"If you mean mentally unbalanced then speak for yourself, Slayer," I kid. She shakes her head but still I can see her smiling.

"That's the truth. Anyway, I mean, some people believe that we're only half a soul, right? And that we travel through many lives being reincarnated until we find that other half?" Again I nod.

"Is that your question?" I prompt, knowing that it's not. Now I REALLY want to hear this. Buffy's not usually into this sort of thing.

"What happens when you think you've found the other half? What do you do then?" she asks, her voice small and childlike. I felt my stomach plummet to my feet with the realization that she'd found someone she felt was her other half and wanted my advice on what to do. I was almost sure I was about to hurl half a pint of ice cream onto the carpet with the shock and pain of it. I could feel the tears burning behind my eyes knowing that it wasn't me. Beautiful, sweet, (and did I mention straight?) Buffy had found someone who she felt was her soulmate. I knew she was mine but I also knew it was foolish to think she'd feel the same way. So I swallowed my hurt, disappointment, and pain and looked at her in what I hoped was a bright and cheery expression.

"Wow, you think you've found yours, Buffy? That's really special. If that theory's true, and it's one I tend to believe in, then what you've got is what everyone searches for throughout eternity." I was so jealous that I think that if my eyes weren't already green they would have changed. And I didn't even know whom it was I was jealous of. She hadn't been seeing anyone that I knew of. Oh, well, maybe she was just keeping it from me for now. And that hurt too.

"But what do I do about it?" She looked at me with eyes that were so open, so vulnerable that it shook me to the core. She was scared for whatever reason and all I cared about was making that fear disappear. That's when the feeling I was talking about hit me. All the air flew from my lungs and left me nearly gasping. I realized that I loved Buffy more than anything, even my own happiness, my own life and I vowed to do anything and everything to make sure she was happy, no matter the personal price. I hugged her and she relaxed into me.

"Well, if you're sure," oh please don't be, "then you tell them that you think they're really special to you. Don't worry, Buffy, if it really is your soulmate," no, no, no, no, no, "then they'll know and understand." Goddess, will someone shut me up, please?

"But what if that person isn't what you'd expect?" What the heck did she mean by that?

"What do you mean by that?" Repetative much, Willow? She pulled away and sighed.

"What if that person is not who everyone expects them to be, isn't what they'd expect? What if you weren't expecting it either?" She looked so small, so lost. I honestly didn't understand what could be so bad. Unless, of course, he turned out to be a big, slimey demon. With chronic bad breath and a lazy eye, (or three).

"If you're worried about how your friends," and I stressed the word to let her know I meant me, "will react; if they truly care about you, like I do, then they'll accept it and move on." And I really and truly would, even if it killed me. "If they don't, then you don't need them. Same goes for your family, except maybe the `not needing them' part. But I think after handling the whole `Hi, Mom, I'm the Slayer' shock a few years ago, and Angel, I think your Mom is game for anything."

"What if…what if they don't feel the same way?" If possible, she got even smaller, folding up into herself. Goddess, she was really upset by this whole thing. I hated to see her that way so I had to bring her out of it.

"Buffy, look at me." She turned and I stared deep into those eyes that I realize I obsess about and saw Buffy as she truly was. I saw right past the persona, the image and the tears filling her eyes, right down to her very soul. "Whoever they are, Buffy, they will. I promise you." I said evenly, meaning every word of it. How could someone not love her? She's Buffy. She sniffed and wiped her eyes.

"Really?"

"I'll be honest with you. If I was this guy," and even though I'm obviously not, "and you came to me and told me you felt this way, I wouldn't be able to help but feel the same. There is only one soulmate for you, Buffy. If whomever you're talking about is really yours, you'll be the only one for him." Every word was slowly cutting out a piece of my own soul but I didn't care as I watched the light and happiness return to her eyes. She flew across the bed suddenly and enveloped me in a hug so tight I thought she'd break something.

"Thank you, Willow, thank you so much. You have no idea what it means to hear you say that to me." she gushed. I didn't then but I do now. We both settled back down to finish the movie and ice cream. I've replayed the conversation over and over since then and knowing that that was her way of letting me know at the time still makes me cry. I never asked her who it was she was talking about because I didn't want to know. If I had known, I would have done exactly like I said I would and we both would have had this happiness we have now a lot sooner. Oh, well.

>>>>>>>

"I know, Will. She's a good friend and we both owe her a lot," she tells me while placing her hand on my knee and shaking me from my wandering thoughts. Athough from the look on her face I can tell she's just getting back from her own mental vacation. She always knows exactly what to say to make me feel better. Again, all I can do is smile in the face of this wonderful woman who loves me. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to explode from the feelings she invokes within me. Not a pretty visual, but still. I place my hand over hers and am amazed at the warmth in it. A telltale reminder that she's alive. I get such a sense of relief out of the little reminders that she's real and here with me. I love her completely, it's that simple.

"Yeah, nothing like dying an excruciatingly painful death to make you see things in your life with a crystal clarity," she tries to joke. As usual, Buffy feels the need to hide her pain and discomfort behind sarcasm and wit. Sometimes I hate it. I can't help the wave of horror and pain that flashes across my face. I relive that horrible moment again when I saw her leap into the portal and sacrifice herself to close it. And the way her body just lay there afterwards, unmoving. She looked so peaceful there, perfectly untouched. My eyes brim with unshead tears and she's immediately on her knees in front of me, trying to chase that pain away.

"Oh God, Will, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that. I shouldn't have said that. I'm so stupid," She wraps her arms around my waist to comfort me. "Please, baby, don't cry. Please." She begs almost in tears herself. She knows that her dying is still a subject I don't deal with well. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and hug as tightly as I can, partily to return the comfort she's offering me and to reassure myself once again that she's really and truly alive. I can feel her heart beating and it is the most comforting sound in my universe. I fall asleep listening to it every night.

"You're not stupid, Buffy," I kiss the top of her head then tilt her face up so that I can look into her grey eyes. I see the concern and worry behind them, she's afraid that she's hurt me but she never could. It's not her words as much as the memories they invoked. "OK, maybe you sometimes speak before you engage your brain, but you're not stupid." I joke with her to lighten the mood and ease her disquiet. And I watch as light and joy return to her eyes. I wonder sometimes if she knows how readable her eyes have become to me. I know everything she thinks before she says it; I know how she feels when she tries to hide it. It's not that I can read her mnd, because that would be an 11 on the scary meter, but because I know her. I know her better than I think I know myself. And it's all in her eyes. I wouldn't care what happened around me, whatever catastrophe was occuring wouldn't matter as long as I could drown in those eyes. Time seems to stop when she looks at me and we are the only people on Earth at that moment. You know what? I am lost.

Hopelessly, utterly lost in the wonderfulness and love that is Buffy. I realize as I'm looking at her that she's staring at me rather intently. Not that that is a bad thing, though. She's apparently focused all her single minded Slayer focus on me and it's a bit daunting. She usually reserves that attention for whatever case of world annihilation we're dealing with at the time. It's strange to know that she now directs it at me, and it makes me blush deeply. But I love it and her all the same. We face an awful lot of bad thingies and ugly truths and I don't think it's awfully fair the pressure everyone, myself included, puts on Buffy. The weight of the world rests on those slender shoulders and yet she carries it with misleading ease. I know she will always do her best to keep me and the world safe. And I know that one-day, unfortunately it won't be enough but as long as I'm with her I feel safe. Whatever happens from this moment forth, happens. I'll be able to deal with it because I have her love. She is my home, my north, my center and my core

"What's the matter, Will? You're turning an alarming shade of red, almost matching your hair." Yeah, I can just imagine I am. Nasty habit that, turning red at something as simple as her staring at me. But I feel so incredibly lucky that out of all the people she could have had, Buffy has chosen to love me. Buffy `The-Vampire-Slayer, strong, rule breaking, doesn't-play-well-with-others, normality-be-damned-because-I-say-so' Summers loves me, little Willow `invisible-girl, stays-in-line, knows-her-place, colors-within-the-lines (because outside just looks bad), no-one-will-ever-notice-or-care-for-me' Rosenberg. OK, bad self-esteem much Will? (Am I channelling Cordy?)

"You're staring," I point out sweetly, just to let her know. I watch the blush creep up from her neck as she realizes I've caught her. Her newest hobby seems to be `Willow watching' and I have to tell you, in a strictly objective way of course, that being watched feels pretty damn good.

"Oops, sorry," she whispers softly. She fixes me with that look again. Have I mentioned that it makes my heart beat faster and turns my knees to Jell-o? It's probably a good thing that I'm sitting down since I would have landed ungracefully on my butt by now. She's looking at me like she wants to say more. She opens and closes her mouth a few times in a pretty darn cute imitation of a fish.

"Will, I," oh good she's doing the stuttering thing again. She's so cute when she's flustered. She tries again. "I want to say so much…I need for you to know, to understand how…" she gives up and waves her hands about in frustration. I wonder why it is that even now emotions and the words to go with them are so hard for her. But I understand and smile to calm her. I don't want her to get upset because she thinks I don't know how she feels. I understand more than she could ever imagine. She giggles a little at a private thought and takes another breath to give it another go.

"I love you, Willow." Well I would hope so. That kind of goes without saying by now, doesn't it? Still, my heart is doing all these flippity floppity things in my chest when she says it. She says it pretty often but it never fails to make me feel like someone has suddenly plugged my entire body into a huge power source and turned it to maximum. Hmm, interesting and disturbing imagery.

"I know you do, Buffy. I love you too." Please don't ever doubt that. I would give my life for yours, gladly and without hesitation, without regret. Her entire face lights up at my words and it's again with the mushiness feelings for me. She can reduce me to a quivering jell-o-ey mass of Willow with just a look. I've either got it for her really bad or I'm getting a cold. Darn, I'm babbling to myself again. She looks at me with a different expression, almost pleading with me. I hate that look because it means that something is important to her but she doesn't know what to do. It's very similar to the look from that night in the dorm.

"No, Will, you don't understand. I love you but it's so much more. I need to tell you, you have to know…" Oh, I get it. Geez, how thick am I? I pull her closer, into my lap, trying to find the words to tell her I understand. I lean in closer so that our foreheads are touching and I can feel her breath on my cheek. She wants me to understand what I already know: how she loves me. I know the depth of how she feels because it's mirrored in my own heart, my own soul. Without her I have nothing, I'm not whole. With her I'm complete and there isn't anything I can't accomplish.

"No, Buffy, you don't need to say anything." She opens her mouth to protest but I place my fingers over her mouth to stop her. "Shush, Buffy. You don't need to say anything because I know." I take a deep breath and pour everything I feel, everything in my heart and soul, my everything into these next few important words. If I'm never able to speak another word to her, I want her to know this without any doubt, no matter how small. Her breath is warm as it fans against my face. I look deep into her eyes and repeat myself. "I know, Buffy." And looking into her eyes, so filled with love, love for me, I know that she believes me.

"God, Wills," she gasps, the emotions overwhelming her, us. I can't help but laugh at her obvious relief at not having to try to explain herself. And I laugh at the universe that was so against me as a child because I now have something that it can never take from me, Buffy's love. It will always be in my heart and nothing, no one, no demon or force or anything can change that. I kiss her, hoping to pour all of what I feel into the gesture. I watch the tears start to flow from her eyes and while I know they're happy tears, I can't bear to see them. So I wipe them away with my thumbs, heedless of the tears on my own cheeks. I need to tell her what's in my heart and since I'm better with words it'll have to be good enough for both of us.

"You need to understand, Buffy. You are my heart, my soul and without you I am only half of what I could be." I whisper, opening every part of my heart and soul for her to see and enter. "I love you more than I ever believed it possible to love anyone. You don't need to explain anything to me because I all ready know." She sinks against me in relief. And in her arms, I know I'm home, I'm safe and loved and that's all I need. I will never leave her, if I can help it. Even if I were to die tomorrow, I wouldn't go to the next life without her. I would stay by her side and do what I could to protect her, help her. I hold her in my arms and silently promise her that, and everything else she will ever want. With everything I am and everything I ever will be.

>>>>>>There it is folks. Willow's POV. While I'm not sure it was as good as Chemistry of Love, I hope it was still a good story to read. Let me know. :::::goes to sit in the corner with her jungle juice and sippy cup:::::

the Missing Element

Summary: Tara's POV during Chemistry of Love. Ding ding ding, round three.

Author's notes: You guys are the greatest and have made me feel very welcome. Thank you. Someone asked for Tara's POV and even though I don't know much about Tara, I thought I'd give it a try. It's shorter than the other two and definitely not as good but fear not, I have other stories in the works. Keep watching! And please excuse my spelling, I don't have spell check.

P.S.: Has anyone seen my muse? She was last seen wearing purple flip-flops, a grass hula skirt, coconut bra, Burger King crown with a lime Pixie Stick in one hand and a CD-Walkman with the Spice Girls `Forever' blaring in it in the other and she had a plane ticket to the Caribbean. I'm frightened she won't come back because she was with another cute muse wearing a Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, white sneakers and a straw hat and had a marguarita in one hand and a fistfull of money in the other. Help!

~~~~~

I hate traffic. I hate it because you know, you're in your car so obviously you have SOMEWHERE to be but you're stuck. Stuck in a little metal box with no control over your situation. You want to be somewhere else but you can't get there. That's where I am now. I'm not back where I started and I'm not where I want to be. So I have two options: Think or listen to the radio. Since I think that thinking probably isn't a good thing to think, I'll try the radio.

"Just another sad love song…" ack, no. Next station.

"My heart will go on and on…" oh, cripes, not that one again. Get a new record for Goddess sake.

"From the bottom of my broken heart…" argh! Not Britney Spears! And certainly not that song. Grrr…this is not going well.

"I will remember you. Will you remember me…" is someone out to get me? Because it sure feels that way.

"And I'd give my life for yours…" it's a vast universal conspiracy, I swear.

"My love is all I have to give…" I start to bang my head on the steering wheel until the horn blares. Several drivers stuck in the traffic jam with me flash their middle fingers in my direction. How rude! OK, one last station…

"You and me, we used to be together. Everyday together, always…" I slam my hand on the `off' switch and decide that maybe thinking isn't so bad after all. It's not like I'm going anywhere, right?

So why am I leaving, why am I running away? Well, I'm not really running away, per se. I'm just leaving an awkward situation. Yeah, making a strategic withdrawl, that's it. Oh, who do I think I'm kidding? I am running away even if that's not the name I'd give it. I just can't stay here and be close to everything I lost. OK, I didn't lose it, she's still there, healthy and alive but she's not with me. She's with the person I think I always knew held her heart and soul even if neither of them knew it until recently.

I fell for Willow the moment I met her. She has this presence about her, a quiet but powerful strength, like the eye of a storm. She has this ability to light up a room simply with her presence and isn't even aware that she's doing it. The most beautiful people in the word are the ones who are breathtaking in their beauty, whether it's external or internal, and aren't aware of it. That's Willow. She has no idea how beautiful she is, inside and outside. Her beauty, her quiet strength and her warmth are what drew me to her, me being timid and all. She was everything I wasn't. There is so much love and kindness in Willow's eyes, not just for those people lucky enough to be in her life but for the whole world. Despite everything she's seen and done, the horrible and ghastly things that occur with alarming frequency on the HellMouth, she is still at heart an innocent. She is this warm, positive, funny and beautiful entity and I fell in love with her.

I knew that even though she said she loved me, there was this piece of her that I would never be able to touch. A part of her so hidden that even she didn't know that it was there. A piece reserved only for her soulmate, for Buffy, to fulfill. She may have known how she felt to some extent but I don't think she knew that there was a part of her holding back from me. I didn't mind, not really. After all, I was just glad to have a part of Willow to myself even if I knew I was eventually going to lose her to Buffy. You know the expression `It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all'? Well I lived by that rule where Willow was concerned. I relished everyday that she was with me; every moment private or public that I spent with her was Heaven to me.

That's why I can't stay. Don't get me wrong, I'm not mad. I could never be mad at sweet, gentle Willow. She didn't mean to hurt my feelings. She just never thought that Buffy would feel the same way for her as she does for Buffy. I don't know why, exactly, since it was always obvious to me. But then, I saw the same look in Willow's eyes whenever she looked at Buffy and Buffy never noticed that either. It'd be funny if it wasn't so sad. Sad that they almost lost their chance at having something amazing because they were both blind and afraid.

When Buffy died I thought I was going to lose Willow right along with her. She just closed up which was so unusual for her. You can usually tell exactly how Willow feels and what she's thinking simply by looking at her. By reading her face and her eyes you know everything about her. But suddenly there was a stranger looking back at me from behind Willow's face. There was no more love or life in that beautiful face. Her eyes were distant and cold, like a vampire's with no warmth or humanity in them anymore. I hated to see her that way. So I knew I had to do whatever it took to get back the Willow I knew and loved. And if that meant getting Buffy back and losing Willow to her forever, so be it.

I sound so self-sacrificing and noble. What a load of crap! I miss Willow all ready and I love her so dearly that I feel like my insides are melting from the pain of letting her go. As I watch my tears splash down onto the steering wheel, I realize that thinking really was the wrong choice to make. I'm only making myself drown in my sorrow and pain. Yeah, like that's healthy. But I can't bear to listen to the radio if all they're going to do is play sappy love/heartbreak songs. Or rap. Ew.

I'm not paranoid by nature, really, but have you ever noticed that whenever you try not to think about something, you're constantly reminded of that thing? Whether it's something someone says or a song that plays, everything reminds you of the thought you're trying to avoid. Like someone telling you not to think of the word `elephant' and then that's all you think about. That's how I feel about Willow right now. The harder I try to tune out thoughts of her; her smile, her warmth, her love and laughter, the louder the memories become. It's not fair and the side of me that is paranoid thinks that the universe is plotting against me.

So I try and focus on something other than this overwhelming pain I feel. Naturally I think about Willow but instead of thinking about losing her, I think of all the fun and great times we had together. Memories flash in my mind like a video montage of highlights. I have so many wonderful, loving memories of my time with Willow and I know that although they hurt somewhat right now, eventually they will be sweet memories. Sweet and loving memories like Willow herself is.

I have one memory in particular that I will always cherish. It's not a big blaring life changing moment; it's one of those quiet memories that just seem to float around in your mind to remind you of what was good in your life. It was right after the whole mess with my family happened and things were still kind of tense between the Scooby's and me. I had, after all, put a spell on them that had almost gotten them killed. But things were slowly returning to normal and as much as I wanted their forgiveness, knowing that I had Willow's understanding as well as forgiveness was far more important to me. So I cornered her one night while we were in my room and didn't let her get away. She'd been avoiding the subject and it was bothering me. Willow doesn't actively seek out conflict, she really doesn't like it all that much, but she doesn't usually run from it either.

>>>>>

"Willow, sit down. We're going to talk," I said as seriously and firmly as I could manage. Willow looked at me in surprise since I don't usually talk that way. I know I stutter when I'm around other people but I don't when it's just Willow and me. She makes me feel strong and confident despite my insecurities. But I still usually take my cues from her except this time I had to make her talk to me about this.

"About what, Tara?" she asked innocently. It was a nice try but she knew what I wanted to talk about.

"About my family and my deception," I started to say, only to have her cut me off.

"I told you not to worry about that. Everyone is getting over that," she told me gently, her green eyes full of love and understanding. I couldn't find a trace of anger or hurt at my betrayal in her eyes. I still wonder how she does that, find the strength to forgive almost anything from anybody. She is just so loving that sometimes it boggles my mind.

"I don't care about Buffy and the others," I say until I realize what that sounded like. Quickly I try to explain. "I mean, I don't mean that the way it sounded. I meant that I care that they forgive me but that's not what I wanted to talk about." She nods.

"OK," she drawls, obviously confused. I sigh. I think she's purposely being slow. She does that sometimes when she doesn't want to talk about something. She pretends not to get that something until the other person gives up trying to explain it. I've seen it work really well a few times but I know her too well by now. She's not getting away that easily.

"You're mad at me, aren't you? On some level, you're upset because I didn't come to you with the fact that I thought I was going to turn into an evil demon thingie. You've been completely open with me and I held back a vital piece of information. You have to be upset by that." Willow shook her head, causing her red hair to flow around her like a halo. Did I mention how much I love her?

"I wasn't upset, Tara," she said patiently, and I believed her despite myself.

"Then what were you?" she sighs and I hate that sound. It means Willow's bothered by something and I hate when that happens.

"Hurt mostly. That you felt that you couldn't trust me with something so important," tears filled her eyes and I hated myself for my selfishness. It hadn't been that I didn't trust her, I hadn't wanted to hurt her and that was exactly what I ended up doing. Yay me. Sometimes I wonder if I can do anything right.

"I'm so sorry," I cried quietly adding my tears to hers. She got up from her seat and walked over to me, grabbing and holding me in a huge hug. I'd never felt so safe before.

"Don't cry. You didn't let me finish," I looked up at her hopefully. She smiled back at me. "I was hurt but I understood, really. You were afraid of what could happen. You had no idea what was going to happen so you did the only thing you could think of and tried to protect me from it. You tried to protect all of us. And it all worked out in the end, didn't it?" I nod, feeling better about the whole situation. I realized then that Willow was truly something special and an extremely rare type of person. And I knew I was lucky to have her in my life. Cheesy I know, but it was enough.

>>>>>>

Have you ever been loved unconditionally? Without reservation and have you ever been made complete by that love even knowing that there might be a part of the person loving you that you can never reach? Because, despite that piece that is kept out of your reach, everything else is enough? That's what it's like to be loved by Willow. She loves you completely, despite all your faults or maybe because of them. She's nearly incapable of hate so you know that no matter what you do, she won't throw it back in your face during an argument. If you ever have a deep argument, that is.

Willow is so amazing that it takes my breath away. I find that I spend a lot of my time not just thinking about her (although, if I stop to think about it, I do seem a bit obsessed, I guess) but about everything. I mean, I just count myself lucky to be able to think at all. It wasn't too long ago that Glory scrambled my brains like eggs at an IHOP. I may have been incoherent and, what's the word? Flighty? No, ok, insane? OK, a little extreme but better, closer to the truth at least. I think I'll settle for emotionally and mentally unavailable. Anyway, I may have been on a forced mental sabbatical at times but at others I was achingly aware of what was going on around me. When I didn't feel Glory's energies pulling at me, I could see the fear on the faces around me, on Willow's beautiful face. I know I slapped her. The pain of that knowledge will haunt me for the rest of my life. I didn't mean to do it, I just snapped.

HAH! Good one, Tara. `Snapped'. I was so far beyond `snapped'; I was bent, broken, shattered, splattered, and scattered. I don't know what made me do it, but I had to. The look of utter shock on Willow's face was nearly enough to bring me back though. I saw it, I heard her and I felt horrible. No, horrible pales in comparison to how I actually felt. But she forgave me. Not only that but her main concern, other than saving Dawn was to restore me to my right mind. (Which according to some people in my life was questionable to begin with, `Hi Dad.') She took on Glory to save me when she knew she could have been killed. How do you repay someone for something like that?

I know she thinks that she owes me for helping to get Buffy back but she doesn't. I already owe her more than I can ever repay her. Not just for restoring my mind but for everything. I may not be out of my shell but it definitely has some deep cracks in it. I'm stronger because of her, more confident. It may not seem like much but let me tell you, that little box I was in was getting a little confining. Willow helped me find the cracks in it and open the lid. She made me feel like I wasn't worthless or invisible; she made me feel precious and wanted. There is nothing I can do in this lifetime or the next that can repay a debt like that. Helping to find a way to get Buffy back and letting Willow go so that they could find each other was the least I could do to try and balance those scales. I love her that much.

That is the wonder of Willow and that is what I see mocking me in my rearview mirror. Not Willow but the reminder that her true love is Buffy and not me. That's why my car is pointed east, and I'm starting my journey now. Eventually I have to end up in Boston; I owe a HUGE favor to Mark. I pray to the Goddess that Willow and her friends never find out exactly what it was I traded for the first crystal that helped get Buffy back.

It's not much, really, just my help with a power augmentation spell. Not the sort of thing I usually go for but being around Willow showed me that while I wasn't as powerful as she was, I did augment her abilities so now Mark wants to `hire me out' to a client as a Wiccan power booster. Might even become a regular thing, being `loaned out' by Mark and his company for odd jobs. I'll probably regret it, but what the Hell, I haven't got anything else left to lose. I could have flown, I know, but I wanted the time to think and maybe find out who I am without Willow. I have her friendship and her love but I haven't got a clue as to what to do now. I hope I find it somewhere on this path I've laid out ahead of me. If not, I can always come home. Willow will still be my friend and I will still have that love. Maybe thinking isn't so bad after all. Anything is better than Britney Spears.

The songs that taunted Tara on the highway were, in order:

1. Another Sad Love Song- Toni Braxton
2. My Heart Will Go On And On- Celine Dion (the song should be banned)
3. From the Bottom of My Broken Heart- Britney Spears (gasp, horror)
4. I Will Remember You- Sarah MacLachlan
5. Lucky- Bif Naked
6. My Love Is All I Have To Give- BackStreet Boys (shutter)
7. Don't Speak- No Doubt

Like I said, I don't know much about Tara, I stopped watching Buffy somewhere around the time they started college (gasp, shutter) and am now desperately trying to play catch-up. I caught the last half of season five though. Anyway, that power augmentation thing was the only thing I could come up with, sorry. I told you, my muse took an unexpected and unannounced vacation. Anyway, providing she returns, I was toying with the idea of a Tara series. Maybe. Bye