~*~Part Seven~*~


"Tara!" Xander called, glancing up the stairs and listening. There was no sound, no whisper of cloth to say that anyone was there. He turned, giving Dawn a confused look. "Thought she said she should be home by now."

Dawn nodded, biting her lower lip in worry. It wasn't just that Tara wasn't where she had said she would be - it was that it was after *dark* and Tara wasn't where she had said she would be. A bad combination. Something that usually meant trouble. Or death. She blinked, tears starting to churn in her eyes. She knew it was probably just a result of her sister's death that she was so paranoid about her remaining friends and family, but knowing the cause didn't make it any easier to bear.

"Tara left to go to the library."

The two turned as one to look at the Buffybot, with Dawn turning away first. It was so hard for her to be near this machine that resembled her sister in so many ways. So very, very hard. The robot looked exactly like her, right to its little, imperfect nose. And the mannerisms were completely Buffy, as though its maker had spent hours and hours just studying the way that the real Slayer had moved.

In a way, though, he had.

"Thanks." Xander nodded at the robot, making a shooing motion with his hands. He breathed a sigh of relief when it scurried off without another word; maybe even to do some housework. It was creepy, far too creepy for his preferences. In fact, if they didn't need the lifelike creation just to maintain appearances that Buffy was still alive for Dawn's school's benefit, he would have the thing shoved in a box and disabled completely, never to be seen or heard from again. It was a disgrace to Buffy's memory to have the Buffybot running around the house, filling it with a false sense of Buffiness.

"Wonder why she ran off to the library." Dawn mused, flopping onto the couch and staring up at Xander. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, his own world. Probably wondering when Anya would be home so that they could do what they did best. Shag. It was times like this, when Tara was gone, that she missed Willow horribly. Xander was fun to play around with, but he wasn't a great talker. And sometimes a girl just needed someone she could talk to.

"Don't know, Dawnie." The young man admitted, shrugging. "Maybe she had some schoolwork to get done?"

Dawn nodded, though the knowledge that Tara had told her, only that morning, that she didn't have any assignments due until next week, ate at her insides.

What was Tara doing?

~*~

"You don't like this place, do you, Miss Caroline?"

"For the last time, Dru, shhh!"

The dark haired vampire blinked in surprise at her companion, favoring the woman with a pout.

"Miss Caroline doesn't like you."

"I care, really." The other vampires snorted, leaning back against one of the many headstones in the cemetery. She had been hoping to see some dinner wander through, but that hope was fading fast. Nearly ten minutes had gone by without so much as a single mourner coming in to weep and sob over their loved one's grave. Maybe the residents of Sunnydale had gotten smarter in the time she'd been away.

"Guess we're gonna have to go get some takeout." She muttered, pushing off of the stone and storming off, not waiting to see if Drusilla was following. Maybe the loony bitch would get lost permanently and then she wouldn't have to deal with her insane ramblings anymore. She had begun to think, even, that meeting up with Drusilla was nothing short of a curse. The older vampire hadn't left her alone since, insisting that they travel together.

"Are you trying to leave me?" Drusilla called out, walking slowly in the direction her companion had gone.

The annoyed vampire turned, noting with a trace of fear that Drusilla's eyes, normally cloudy with insanity, were quite lucid at that moment. She seemed to be having one of her brief bouts with sanity.

"Why would I do that?"

Drusilla shrugged, taking the other woman's hesitation to catch up to her. She smiled, sickly sweet, and looked straight into her companion's eyes, trailing one black fingernail down her cheek.

"Miss Caroline tells me that I annoy you. Do I annoy you, pet?"

Cornered, the younger vampire shook her head, denying that which she had been thinking only a few, short moments before.

"No, Dru. You don't annoy me. Of course not."

"Good." Drusilla purred, her fingernail biting lightly into the woman's cheek, drawing blood. "I like you, Harmony-pet. Don't upset me?"

Harmony watched Drusilla continue on the path that led to the cemetery gates, her voice caught in her throat. Times like these reminded her with no uncertainty that Drusilla was much, much older and much, much more powerful than she was.

But that didn't stop her from hating the loon.

~*~

Tara watched from the shadows, holding her breath and praying that the two vampires didn't see her. Their victim was already dead; there was nothing she could do to save the poor woman, and jumping out into their line of sight to try to run away didn't seem like the smartest idea, either.

So, she watched, in sickened fascination, as they took turns drinking from the body. It was disgusting, horrifying. Tara could only hope that the woman, who looked like someone that probably went to the college, had died quickly and without too much pain.

"Come on, Dru. She's dry. Let's go find another one."

'Dru? Drusilla?' Tara thought in shock. She peered out from her hiding spot, watching the two of them walk off. The blonde looked familiar. Harmony. Goddess. Both Drusilla and Harmony were back. She picked up her bag as soon as the two disappeared from her sight, tearing off in the other direction as fast as her feet could carry her. She clutched her bag tightly in her hand, the research she had been doing that night far too precious to be lost in her haste. It was research that would help her, help Willow, help Dawn and the rest of the remaining Scoobies.

And, after seeing Drusilla and Harmony, she had to believe that she was doing the right thing.

Sunnydale needed its protector again.

~*~Part Eight~*~

Willow laughed, the sound echoing through the evening air. She felt a blush creep across her skin as Matt's arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him in a purely companionable way. Goddess, she liked this man. Everything about him. From the eyes to the smell of his aftershave. He was the complete package, everything she could ever imagine having wanted.

And he had his arm around her.

She could die happy.

Or, at least, have some -very- happy dreams tonight.

"Whatcha thinking 'bout?"

Matt's sweet southern drawl drew her out of her decidedly un-Willowy naughty thoughts and back to the present. They were walking down the street, after a tasty snack of ice cream, just enjoying each other's company. It was nice, she decided, to just walk and talk. Laugh and enjoy another person's company. Too much time had passed since she had last been able to just enjoy being around another person.

"Stuff. Life. You know. Boring things."

The dark haired wrestler chuckled, pulling her discreetly closer to him. He breathed in, enjoying the sweet scent of whatever kind of body wash she had used with her last shower.

"Tell me about it?"

"About what?"

"Your life."

The red head frowned, biting her lower lip. "My life, huh? That's a tall order there, Mr. Hardy. It reads more like a horror novel than an idyllic poem."

"How's that?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." She muttered, turning her head from him. How she longed to tell him all about Sunnydale, about Buffy's death, about the time she was almost burned at the stake. She would have loved to tell him a thousand little things that had happened to her in the last few years. But she didn't dare. Not if she still wanted him to think she was sane and worth his time. Who would want to date a witch?

Matt stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing her to stop as well with a tug of his hand on hers. He turned her to face him, putting a finger under her chin and gently pulling up until her eyes were meeting his.

"Try me."

Willow sighed, shaking her head. And that's when she heard it. A sound from the alley right next to where they had stopped. It was dark down there, too dark for her to see. But she could hear something moving. And a muffled scream.

"What was that?" Matt had heard it, too, and was looking into the darkness, trying to see something.

"A scream." The red head whispered, pulling away from him. She took one step into the darkness and realized that proceeding without any source of light would be useless. Her internal senses, the ones she had developed after years of being on the Hellmouth, were going crazy, and she knew that there was something very bad and very supernatural in the alley.  "Stay there."

Matt had a split second to puzzle over his companion's sudden assertiveness before she gave him something else entirely to ponder. He heard her whisper - something - and then a light flashed brightly over her head, shooting off into the alley to illuminate what appeared to be a struggle going on. The red head took off at a run, closing the distance between herself and the pair struggling on the ground within mere moments. He started after her, just in time to see the man leap off of the woman.

And then he saw that it wasn't a man at all.

"C'mon, tall, dark and deadly." Willow taunted, bringing the creature's attention from the woman, lying far too still on the ground, to herself. She smiled coldly, a stake emerging from the pocket of her jacket. She gripped it tightly.

"Witch." The vampire hissed.

"Ouch. Name calling already. You wound me, Fang-boy."

The vampire snarled, leaping for the red head before Matt could say or do anything. He watched in amazement as Willow spun out of reach of the vampire, whirling to shove the stake into his back. The creature exploded with a poof of dust and ash. When the smoke cleared he could see Willow again, kneeling next to the fallen woman. She shook her head, sighing.

"Dead."

"That sucks." Matt frowned.

As if the sound of his voice was a wakeup call, Willow jumped up. She walked around the body, coming towards Matt with an innocent, yet cautious, look on her face.

"Now.I can explain."

"No need." Matt shook his head. "That was a vampire. You're a witch. My uncle on my mother's side was a Watcher, if you know who they are."

Willow stopped, mid-step, her expression going from innocent caution to stunned disbelief. She shook her head, and then nodded, a small smile playing over her lips.

"So I don't need to wow you with excuses of a gang member on PCP?" She queried lightly, closing the distance between them.

"Well." Matt drawled, pulling her into his arms. He was still recovering from the shock that the red head was a witch, but he was dealing. "I guess you could if you like. Might be interesting."

Willow opened her mouth to make a smart remark, something appropriately witty and cute, only to find herself silenced by Matt's lips on her own. She sighed into his mouth, for one moment letting the world slide by. There were no vampires, no bills at home to pay, and there certainly wasn't a dead body right behind her. For this moment there was only her and Matt, kissing.

And it felt good.

~*~

Willow knew her perfect night couldn't last, though.

Her cell phone rang as she was locking the door of her hotel room, the taste of Matt's lips still in her mouth. She sighed, looking at the little digital display. It was Angel. Just great.

"Hello?"

"Willow?"

"Yeah, Angel."

There was a long silence and then.

"Was there something you needed at eleven o'clock at night?"

She heard Angel sigh and rolled her eyes. Here it was. The big 'I'm disappointed in you' lecture. But - wait, what was that in the background.

"Angel - is that a baby?"

"Um."

And then she could hear a woman speaking. It sounded like Cordelia. 'Angel. Come get your son. I have to go home.'

"SON?!?" Willow exclaimed. She heard the phone drop. It would have been funny if she wasn't so, well, confused. "Since when do you have a son? And how?"

"Long story involving Darla, Wolfram and Hart and a prophecy." Angel muttered. "And, in light of this coming out in the open and me not wanting to answer any uncomfortable questions, I will be foregoing my lecture. Good night, Willow."

Willow stared at the phone long after she heard the click signaling Angel's disconnection. And then it hit her and all she could do was laugh. Angel had a kid. Angel had called to lecture her and had had his own dirty laundry aired instead. She snickered, throwing the phone on the hotel nightstand. A yawn hit her suddenly, reminding her how long the day had been.

"Sleep." She muttered, stripping down to her underwear and crawling into bed, thoughts of Matt Hardy and smoochies following her down into the depths of her dreams.

~*~Part Nine~*~

"You can do this, Willow. You can do it."

"Cheering yourself on, Rosenberg?"

Willow threw a grin over her shoulder at Percy, the expression not quite as bright and cheerful as it normally would be. This smile had an underlying base of nerves and anxiety. She could feel the butterflies in her stomach doing what she was pretty sure was a clog dance.

"Someone needs to." She sighed in mock consternation. "I mean, here I am, about to walk out for my very first ever bra and panties match and there's no one here to keep me from running out the back door and never showing my face at the company again."

Percy chuckled and reached out to brush a strand of hair from her cheek.

"So you're saying you need a babysitter?"

The red head grinned.

"Not a babysitter, per se. No, definitely wouldn't go that far. Maybe just a helpful hand to watch over me and make sure I don't go screaming into the night?"

Percy smirked and pulled her down onto the bench next to him, ceasing her pacing for at least that moment. He grabbed her head in his hands, forcing her frantic green eyes to look into his.

"You. Will. Do. Fine." He said slowly, ending the 'pep talk' with a kiss to her forehead.

"Hey, now. No kissin' my girl."

"She was my girl long before she was your girl, Hardy." Percy chuckled, without turning around.

"Wow. Two hotties fighting over Willow kissage." The red head grinned, shaking her head in amazement. "Never thought I'd see the day that happened."

"Not much of a fight," Matt drawled, glaring playfully at Percy. "I could kick his butt any time."

"No chance, Hardy. I'd take my size fourteens and shove them right up your ass."

Matt laughed outright at that, enjoying the playful banter between himself and the other wrestler.

"No chance, Percy. You're too big, I'm too small. It'll never fit in there."

"And I'm just going to forget I -ever- heard that." Jeff Hardy called from the doorway. He held his hands up as Matt and Percy opened their mouths to explain, his entire demeanor making it clear that he didn't want to hear any more than he already had.

Willow, for her part, was busy laughing, her little body shaking so hard that she toppled straight to the floor, squirming on the carpet in hysterical amusement. Strong arms grabbed her under her arms, hauling her off of the floor and brushing her off, even as she was wiping the tears from her eyes.

"It's time for you to go out there, you know." Matt reminded her gently. He saw the humor vanish from her eyes, replaced instantly by panic.

"No. No. No." She shook her head. "I can't. Oh, Goddess. I can't do this. I mean - she's going to be trying to strip my clothes off of me! How's that for unwholesome entertainment? I'll never be able to show my face back home again. Giles will have a heart attack, or worse - he'll call and yell at me. And Xander? You don't even want to get me started on what he'll do."

"Harris will just have to deal." Percy smirked. "Not like you're his girlfriend - or ever were for that matter."

"That's right." Matt nodded, agreeing with Percy even though he had no clue whether the other man was just making things up on the fly or not. For all -he- knew, Willow and Xander could have dated. But that was beside the point. "You're my girl and I'm okay with you going out there - so he's got no room to bitch."

Willow snorted, rolling her eyes. "You'll see soon enough that Xander doesn't need an actual 'reason' to bitch. He likes to pretend he's very high and mighty about these type of things."

"Bra and panty matches?" Jeff asked.

"No - things involving me and nakedness or near-nakedness in general." Willow giggled.

"Willow! Willow! You're up. Get your ass down to the curtain."

The red head sighed, hearing the stagehand calling to her, his hurried footsteps nearing her room.

"You're walking me out, still, right?" She asked Matt. The dark haired wrestler nodded, taking her hand and leading her from the room at a brisk jog. They passed the harried stagehand, leaving him with his mouth hanging open as they made it to the curtain in record time. Percy's music started up the second the other stagehands spotted them and gave the audio-visual guys the cue. It was the only music that had been available to her on such short notice and she fully planned on finding some of her own before any more matches were scheduled for her.

"Don't worry." Matt whispered, taking a step back He gave her a gently push on the back, forcing her through the curtain. He followed, smirking for the crowd. "You'll do fine."

~*~

Halfway through her match Willow realized that Matt had been right - she really was doing quite fine. Very well, in fact. Okay. The fact remained that Stacy Kiebler was nothing like a real wrestler. She was nothing more than a long-legged bitch from what Willow had heard, in fact. But that didn't stop the red head from taking a small amount of pride in the way she stripped the blonde down without losing so much as a single piece of her own clothing. She felt the referee raise her arm in victory, the blinding flashes of cameras in the audience going off as she turned slowly for all to see. Her breaths were coming in gasps, but she felt good.

Very good.

And Matt was waiting at ringside for her.

She slid between the ropes, grabbing onto the hand he offered her and using it to stay steady as she hopped from the apron to the floor. The crowd was still going nuts. She felt a blush creep across her face. She was really doing it, standing in front of a crowd of thousands were super tight pants and an itty bitty shirt.

"You were great." Matt whooped the moment they cleared the curtain. He picked her up, spinning her in a circle. She looked so beautiful at that moment, her hair flying out around her head, face lit up with happiness. It was an expression he wanted to see on her face for the rest of his life.

"Good job!" Lita echoed, hugging the younger woman. "You did all of us proud."

"Yeah." Jeff grinned. "And the part where you swatted Stacy on her ass with her own shirt? Priceless."

Willow blushed under the compliments, leading the way back to the locker room. She heard her cell phone going off before she ever made it to the doorway and sighed.

"This will be Xander." She told Matt before even picking up the phone.

"Hello? - Xan - Hey! - C'mon, it's not like I lost my top or anything! - Oh stop being such a prude, Xan!" She yelled into the phone. "You think I'm out here having fun? I'm doing this to keep the house running, to make sure Dawn gets everything she needs. Try to be a little more supportive. - What? Fine, Xan, fine. Whatever. Don't call me back 'til you get your head out of your ass."

She hung up the phone, throwing it into her bag with a muffled shriek of frustration. She glared at the small piece of plastic, now firmly ensconced amidst her clothes, and wished that things had turned out different. She really -was- doing the best she could for them, didn't they know that? She was sending home money for them to pay the bills and even buy a few extras. Dawn was happy, she left voicemails for Willow each day if she wasn't able to get in touch any other way. But did anyone else voice their appreciation for what she was doing?

No.

They were ungrateful. She hadn't even heard from Tara since she had left. That didn't hurt too much, they had broken up long before she had left and Willow liked to think that dating Matt was her way of saying she had 'moved on'. No, she hadn't moved on from girls and gone back strictly to guys, she had decided that she was quite happy being bi, though at this time she wanted the kind of love Matt could give. And he certainly was giving.

So that's why Tara's lack of communication hurt. They were supposed to still be friends but the blonde witch hadn't even called or written to make sure she was okay. Xander, on the other hand, seemed to feel the need to call her on a regular basis and bitch at her. He hadn't said the words 'thank you' a single time, despite the fact that Willow knew he had taken some of the money she had sent to buy himself some little odds and ends - including a new portable CD player. He certainly liked the money, even if he didn't approve of where it was coming from.

Angel hadn't called back since that night she had caught him in his own moral predicament, though when he did finally return the calls -she- had been leaving for -him-, he was in for an earful all of his own. He had been far too high-handed for someone who was keeping such large secrets himself, in her opinion. And, of course, she wanted to know how in the Hell he had ended up having a kid with Darla.

"You okay?"

Willow realized she was crying when Matt's fingers came up to wipe away a tear, the small globule of salty water glistening on his fingertips like it was pure crystal. She sighed.

"Just frustrated. My friends - "

She shook her head, stopping and biting her lip. The silence in the room let her know that it was just her and Matt right now without her even having to look up.

"They're ungrateful, I guess." She whispered. "Here I am, busting my ass for them, and all Xander can do is bitch. Angel just wants to act like my moral savior, and Giles is the typical father type. Not to mention the fact that Tara hasn't even called or written. I think her lack of checking up hurts more than everyone else's yelling and condemnation."

Matt nodded. He closed the short distance between them, pulling her into his arms. He could feel her body shake as she let loose with tears that she wanted, no - *needed*, to shed. He didn't speak. There was nothing he could say. Her friends were being insensitive asses, but saying such wouldn't earn him any points with her. So he did what any good listener would do.

He just let her cry

~*~Part Ten~*~

Tara took a deep breath and then exhaled, slowly, trying to calm her frazzled nerves and tired mind. This was it. She had finally found it.

The way to bring Buffy back from the dead.

It would only work, she found, because Buffy had died by supernatural means. In other words, it hadn't been Buffy's time to go and the Powers would, supposedly, let her go freely once this spell was performed.

The only problem was that she needed help to do it.

Which meant that she had to tell Xander, Dawn and Anya about the work she had been doing for weeks now. The hours of researching and fact finding. And, hopefully, they would be understanding and wouldn't think her too terribly twisted for wanting to resurrect the fallen Slayer.

She hoped, anyway.

A door slammed somewhere in the house, down below her. The front door, she suspected. Which meant that Dawn was home. And Xander was probably back, too. That just meant they needed to get Anya over here, if she wasn't already, and then they could get this done.

They could bring their protector back from the dead.

~*~

The living room of the Summers' house was quiet. It was so quiet, in fact, that the still dripping kitchen sink could be heard all the way at the front of the house, sitting in that tastefully furnished living room.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Xander blinked and snapped out of the near-trance the dripping water had induced upon him. He shook his head, closing his eyes, trying to make sense of everything Tara had just said to him.

She had found a way to bring Buffy back from the dead.

As in, completely alive and ready to kick a little Hellmouth ass.

It seemed too good to be true and he wondered when the dream would end, when reality would come crashing back in to disturb this all too real fantasy that his brain had somehow concocted.

But this wasn't a dream and he wasn't waking up, no matter how hard he pinched his arm or bit his lip. Tara really was here. And she was really telling him that she had found a way to bring Buffy back from the dead.

He was, in a word, speechless.

"You -" Dawn paused and closed her eyes, fighting valiantly against the tears that were threatening to spill. "You think we can really do this? Bring her back?"

Tara nodded slowly.

"Nothing's guaranteed, of course." The blonde witched hastened to add. "But I don't see why this wouldn't work. She died an unnatural death, due to supernatural means. The ingredients aren't even that hard to find. And there's enough of us to supply the energy needed for the spell."

"In other words," Xander said slowly. "There's no reason not to try."

Tara nodded, giving him a weak smile.

"This isn't right." Anya grumbled, glaring outright at the witch. "She died. What if she's happy where she is? The afterlife isn't all flames and infernos, you know. She could be in paradise. What right do we have to take her from there?"

Dawn shot Anya a look that could kill.

"And if she's -not- in paradise? What if she's burning for all of eternity?" The teenager let her tears fall now. "My sister wasn't a saint, Anya, despite what she would've liked us all to believe. How can I just leave her dead when there's a way to bring her back?"

Anya sighed, holding up her hands in defeat. You would've though that they would take her seriously with so many years of knowledge on her side but, *No*, they wanted to believe they were doing the right thing and who was she really to interfere in that?

"So." Xander smiled, rubbing his hands together anxiously. "When're we gonna do this?"

Tara allowed a smile of her own to come to the fore.

"No time like the present."

~*~

They gathered in the graveyard, making a ring around Buffy's headstone. The grass was damp with dew that had fallen early, but they didn't seem to mind. They were focused. The Buffybot hovered off to one side, keeping lookout. It was one of the few things it was really good at doing.

But soon they wouldn't need the Buffyboy anymore.

Very, very soon.

The moon broke out from behind a cloud as Tara began the imploring chant to the Powers, casting its dull silvery rays down upon the supplicants sitting on the dewy grass. Her voice grew in volume as the chant progressed, the ringing tones pealing through the empty cemetery. She was screaming now, and a light breeze had picked up, scattering fallen leaves about them without a care.

Xander felt as if his very life force was being drawn from his body and indeed, if Tara was correct, that was what was happening. He was giving of himself to help bring Buffy back. From the looks on Anya's and Dawn's faces, they were feeling this just as much as he was. Hopefully they wouldn't need too much energy. Already he felt like he was going to pass out. Standing at that moment would have been near impossible for him and God help him if a vampire showed up.

Tara's voice rang out one last time through the cemetery and then -

Silence.

The group, with the exception of Tara, felt the draining pull on their life force fade away. They looked around, blinking as if waking up from a dream.

"Did it work?" Dawn murmured tiredly.

"I - " Tara stammered. "I don't know. The book wasn't really specific on what's supposed to happen now."

"Great." Anya muttered.

"Shhh!" Xander hissed. He held a finger up to his lips, gesturing for the remainder of the group to be quiet. He tilted his head to the side, listening.

And then Anya heard it too.

And Tara.

A dull scratching, as if from under the ground.

Someone trying to claw their way to the surface.

"Shovels!" Tara cried to the Buffybot. The robot came running, tools in hand, and helped set to work on digging up the Slayer's grave. Within moments of frantic digging they had unearthed the wooden coffin and now they could hear Buffy moaning softly, crying out as best she could for help.

"We did it." Dawn cried, hands to her mouth as she watched Xander lift the coffin lid, exposing Buffy - bright and healthy as ever.

~*~

Willow heard her cell phone ringing as she walked back into her hotel room, laughing companionably with Lita. They were sharing a room for this portion of the tour. Not that Willow minded sharing a room, especially not with someone she got along with like Lita.

Now, if it had been Torrie or Stacy, Willow didn't think she could guarantee the personal safety of anyone involved.

The red head darted to the bag she had left on her bed, pulling out the cell phone. She flipped it on, listening to the frantic cries that came over the phone.

And what they said was unbelievable.

Buffy was alive.

She was *alive*!

As in, not dead.

"Oh, Goddess." Willow murmuted, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed. She nodded as a question was asked and then, remembering that people on a phone can't see her nod, replied. "Yes, of course. I'll be back as soon as I can. Tomorrow even."

Lita arched an eyebrow. Willow was leaving? She waited for her fellow red head to hang up with the call before pouncing on her for answers.

"You're leaving?"

"Gotta go home." Willow said, frantically. "They need me."

She couldn't elaborate further without telling the other woman about things that would probably earn her some crazy looks. And she didn't have time to really explain, anyway.

"Are you going to tell Matt?"

Willow stopped in mid-motion, her mouth opening even as her eyes closed. She was leaving the WWE, of course. She needed to go back to Sunnydale and help out while Buffy got back to full strength. And that meant leaving Matt.

"Yes." Willow sighed after a long moment of sad introspection. "I'll tell him."

~*~Part Eleven~*~

The flight back to Sunnydale was painful in more ways that one for Willow. She had left behind a very sad, unusually quiet Matt, someone that she had come to care greatly about over the course of her brief stint in the WWE. And then there was the whole thing about Buffy being back, at the house. She was alive. How in the Hell had Tara managed to do that without trading her own immortal soul in the process?

Or had she?

Aside from welcoming her friend back from the dead, ascertaining whether or not Tara was still playing for the right team fell heavily among the tasks the red head felt as though she had to look after as soon as she stepped foot back on the Hellmouth. It just wouldn't do if one of their strongest allies had sold out to dark magic in an attempt to bring back someone who had, for all purposes, died and sought her rewards.

The voice of the stewardess echoed over the intercom, reminding all passengers that they would be beginning the descent soon and to please fasten their seatbelts. This only served to remind Willow that she had never unfastened hers to begin with. She had been so caught up in her thoughts that the flight back to Sunnydale had flown by without her being any the more aware of it.

She sighed and closed her eyes, her fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose, as if she could ward off the nagging headache that she had been dealing with ever since leaving the hotel that morning. Conflicting emotions coursed through her, wave upon wave of things as complex as love and excitement to extreme sadness and desperation. She was looking forward to seeing Buffy again; of that there was no doubt.

But -

What about Matt? And Jeff and Lita. Percy and all the others that she had made friends with during those few weeks? They were as much her family now as the people she had been sending a good portion of her paychecks home to. And Matt was so much more than just her friend, after all. He was someone that she had actually let into her heart, into her life. He knew about Slayers and vampires. He hadn't blinked an eye when she had told him that Tara had brought Buffy back from the dead.

The only time he had looked confused was when she said she was leaving.

For good.

And then he had looked more hurt than anything else.

She sniffled, biting back the tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks at any moment. The small whisper of sound brought her a curious look from the passenger next to her but, thankfully, the older woman didn't say a thing, just turned back to the magazine she held open in her lap. Willow sent a silent prayer up for small blessings. Her grief was hers to hold and hers to deal with. Her time in the WWE had never been guaranteed to be anything more than temporary, a way to get her Sunnydale family back on their feet and provide for Dawn until such a time as something better came along. She had known all along that what her and Matt had could not possibly last, even if that knowledge had only been in the furtherest depths of her mind and heart. In time what she felt for Matt would pass.

She hoped.

~*~

The reunion with Buffy was bittersweet. The Slayer looked and sounded tired, worn down. It was only to be assumed that this was from being brought back from the dead.

But Willow knew better.

She knew what Tara had done was unforgiveable. It was the worst thing the blonde could have ever concocted. Buffy had been dead and in paradise. They had had no right to snatch her out of the arms of the angels and bring her back to Earth, a place so wrought with misery and pain for someone as special as the Slayer was.

It had to be Hell for her.

They had talked for hours that first day, the others leaving them alone so that Willow and Buffy could recapture that bond that they had had before the Slayer's death. And they did recapture it -

But it wasn't the same.

And maybe, Willow conceded, that was more because of her own changes than anything Buffy had been through. She was no longer content to wander the streets of Sunnydale and play the hero.

She had moved on.

And then there were the others. Dawn and Tara were thankful and Willow had been happy to learn that the blonde witch was still reasonably grounded and not seeking out any more complex spells or highs. That was good. One less thing for her to worry about, in the end. Dawn gushed her thankfulness each and every time she saw Willow. It was too much.

Xander and Anya didn't seem to care as much. Oh, sure, they muttered their thanks, as if the words hurt to come out of their mouth. But there wasn't an air of overall gratitude.

So, by the beginning of the second week of her return to Sunnydale, Willow had decided with grudging acceptance that this was her lot in life.

But she was miserable.

~*~Part Twelve~*~

"She's miserable."

"What?" Matt questioned, looking up at the wrestler that had entered his locker room. It was Percy, of course, and he was holding a letter that the dark haired high flyer could only assume was from Willow.

Willow.

She hadn't even written to him since that day she had sought him out in the hotel and told him in no uncertain terms that she had to go back to her 'home'. She had cried and it had seemed like she would miss him; she had promised to write but no letters had arrived yet - though Percy had received two or three that he knew of.

"Willow." Percy elaborated unnecessarily. "Got another letter from her. She hates it back there. Misses us all."

"Sure." Matt muttered. "She misses us. Right."

Percy frowned at his friend, wondering what had crawled up the older man's ass to get him in such an awful mood. And then he realized.

"You think she doesn't miss you?"

"You don't see me with any letters from her, do you?"

That elicited another frown from Percy.

"Something you have to understand about Red." Percy sighed. "She's terribly insecure." He paused, unsure if he should say more. Was it worth betraying some small part of Willow's trust to set Matt at ease, if only a little.

Yest, it was.

"In her last letter," He began slowly. "She told me she misses you. A lot. But she feels like she has a duty to them. To Sunnydale. She misses you, man. Don't doubt that. Just gotta understand her reasoning."

"Do they need her?" Matt whispered, imbedding the kind words Percy had spared with him in his heart. "Do they honestly need her? Like I do?"

"No." There wasn't a moments of hesitation in Percy's voice. No doubt. No guessing. He knew that Buffy and Xander didn't need Willow. She was helpful, yes, but not necessary. They didn't need her the way Matt did. They loved her but not the way that Matt seemed to.

Which really left only one option for them.

Good thing there wasn't another show for a few days.

"So -" Percy began to smile. "What do you want to do about it?"

~*~

The doorbell was ringing but Willow didn't feel like getting up. She put her nose more firmly in her book and tried to ignore the persistent tones, hoping that Dawn or Xander would chose to get off their asses and answer it. Another ring and then there were footsteps on the stairs. Good. Someone else would deal with the annoyance. She could continue to wallow quietly in her misery.

Xander cast a confused glare at her, she caught it out of the corner of her eye, as he opened the door. Why hadn't she gotten up, she questioned silently, internally verbalizing the question that she knew he was thinking.

"Well that would be because I'm not your frickin' maid, Xander Harris." She muttered darkly. "I pay the bills with my savings. I clean the kitchen, do the laundry. But I'll be damned if I answer the door, too."

She heard a startled exclamation from the front hall and turned her head, ever so slightly, to see if Xander was okay. Generally when someone opened the door and said something like that it was a bad thing. Especially in Sunnydale.

And then she heard *His* voice, the one that had haunted her dreams and caused her to wake breathless and panting, her body filled with longing and want, coupled with misery. How could she be hearing his voice when she had left him more than a week ago? Left him standing in his hotel room looking like he had been kicked?

"Must be dreaming." She sighed, turning her attention back to the book and hoping that the dream would end soon. She didn't know if she could stand to actually *see* Matt again.

"Willow? You have visitors." The tone of Xander's voice indicated his disapproval more than any expression on his face could have ever said. But Willow was getting both. She looked up, rolled her eyes at the look of annoyance on her childhood friend's face.

Then she looked behind him.

And there He was.

Matt.

And Percy, of course. He would have needed Percy to show him where the house was. She felt the tugging at her heart, the emotion painful and wrenching.

"Matt." It was a whisper. No more than a breath. She had avoided even watching wrestling because she didn't want to see him, because it would be too painful. She wanted to move on, to forget the happiness that she had entertained a chance of having.

But now he was here.

He was looking at her, with that same longing; that same sense of desire and want. The one that made her heart go into her throat and lodge there with unerring painfulness. He knew what it was like to desire, to want.

And he still wanted her by the look on his face.

"Willow." He stepped into the room, kneeling next to her chair and looking up into her eyes. "How you doin', darlin'?"

Willow snorted. "Percy not sharing my letters?"

"Oh, he is." Matt nodded. "Just wanted to hear it from your lips."

The red head swallowed. "I'm miserable, Matt. I miss you guys. But -"

"They don't need you, Red." Percy spoke up.

"The hell we don't." Xander growled. There were steps on the stairs behind him and he turned, seeing Tara glancing curiously around the room. "She's our Willow. You can't have her back."

"Stop being such a child, Xander." Willow snapped, standing up; her book falling to the floor, forgotten. "I do not belong to *you* or Tara or Buffy or even Dawn. I am an adult. If I want to go back with them, I will."

"Do you?" Matt asked.

"Do I what?" His question had taken the witch by surprise and she blinked at him in confusion.

"Want to come back with us? Lita and Jeff miss you, too. We all do."

Willow looked between Xander and Tara, and then Matt and Percy, knowing that whatever her answer was she was going to make someone unhappy. But that was the crux of things, wasn't it. She couldn't make everyone happy no matter what she did.

So maybe it was time to make *herself* happy.

"Yes. I want to go back." She whispered, ignoring the angry outburst from Xander and the glare Tara threw her way. They'd get over it, she was sure. This was her life and she was determined to make the most of it. And that certainly wasn't going to happen here, in the Hellmouth.

"That's settled then." Percy grinned. "Be ready by tomorrow?"

"Tonight." Willow corrected him. "I can be ready to go by tonight."

"All the better." Matt smiled. He too had already mastered the concept of ignoring the glares her 'friends' were throwing her way. And so it was easy to just pull her into his arms and -

When the kiss broke off Xander and Tara had left and Percy was trying to find something interesting in the book she had dropped. She stifled a laugh, feeling good for the first time in days.

It was time to live her life for herself.

~*~End Fic~*~