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Summary: The doppelganger version of Willow and a very human Tara try to understand what they mean to each other after "Blood of Our Beloved".

Notes: I thought that "Blood of Our Beloved" was gonna be a one-shot deal, but, well, positive feedback apparently works wonders with me. Thank you.

I think this is more of a PG-13 than anything else-correct me if I'm wrong. Plus, I know absolutely no Italian, so please forgive any mistakes I've made- my only dictionary was allwords.com- and also I think I messed with the vampire characteristic 'ground rules' of the Buffyverse. Apologies to the purists, if there are any here.

Feedback, constructive criticism, et al, to ressick@yahoo.com

*****

Blood Sacrifice

by Ressick

Dawn, she believed, would come clear and bright, the sun poking its brilliant rays above the mountain ranges circling the horizon. The vampire once known as Willow Rosenberg felt the night ending, could sense the dreaded sun approaching. For the first time in nearly three years, she wanted to see the sun rise, to feel its warm rays on her face. Instead, she had to awaken the gorgeous naked form sprawled over her, and creep back to her lair, where only rats and shadows really thrived.

She nudged the girl draped over her, running her fingers through fine blond hair and down smooth pale skin. Tara mumbled in her sleep, and nuzzled the vampire's throat. Even in her undead state, Willow wasn't immune to the arousal threatening to take over. It flowed thickly through cold veins, and only a formidable will kept her from ravishing, again, the beautiful girl- mortal girl, even- who had seen fit to gift her with blood. She could still taste the warm crimson liquid on her tongue.

There was a certain urgency to her next attempt. Finally, Tara awoke, starting at first when she realized she was outside, naked, and, well, among other things, no longer a virgin. And that a certain patch of her throat was really quite sore, even as she could feel the skin healing. Most of all, she was tired, the blood drained from her not yet replaced. She propped her head up on a fine-boned hand and rubbed her eyes of the sleepiness still keeping her from focusing properly. Below her, was a beautiful young girl, face positively beaming, eyes full of a mix of love and lust, directed at her. How did I ever get this lucky? Then she realized dawn was coming- birds were stirring above her, and a few cars could be heard on the highway not too far away. She smiled apologetically, and rose, pulling on her chill garments, sodden with the morning dew.

Willow rose as well, fitting herself back into the form-fitting leather catsuit. They were silent while dressing, unwilling to speak and thereby break the apparent spell over the moment. Speaking would make the differences between them even more so apparent. Silently, the pair embraced, kissing gently, and then Willow was gone. Tara smiled at the retreating form, and headed back to her dorm.

****

The crypt was the same as it had been the sunset before, yet for some reason the building now repulsed Willow. Her "roommate", the vampire formerly known as Xander Harris, had returned and turned on the television. For some probably disturbing reason, her childhood friend and occasional fuckbuddy found a certain glee in watching soap operas and Jerry Springer. He barely noticed her return, just growling that she shut the door and wipe her feet.

"You're almost as bad as my mother!" she exclaimed under her breath, dutifully barring the door and wiping her feet on the 'Home Sweet Home' mat her friend had seen fit to steal.

Xander's head swiveled around, "What?! When was the last time you mentioned your mother, Wills?"

The vampire thought for a moment, "Right after I ran her out of town screaming, I think," she said soberly, all traces of sarcasm gone from her voice.

"Exactly," he replied. "So what brought her up?"

"I don't know," she said. "Drop it, Xander. And turn down the damn volume on that thing." Retreating over to her part of the crypt, she rummaged around in a dirty box of her belongings, things she had saved from her mortal existence, and knick-knacks picked up in the undead underbelly of Sunnydale. At the very bottom was a bound journal. Hesitantly, she picked up the volume and opened it, flipping the pages until she came across the last entry. She read it, then started at the first entry, and read through the entire journal. By the end, she was wracked with sobs, curled up in the corner of her cot. Xander was mesmerized by "My Abusive Grandfather's Bisexual Transvestite Lover is the Father of my Obese Siamese Twin Multi-Racial Wild Teens", so she tucked the little book away, and climbed under the reeking sheets, wishing for sleep to come and drive away the memories.

****

Tara found that her dorm seemed absolutely mundane after the night before. She viewed the tastefully-hung draperies on the walls, looked over the various spellbooks and witchcraft tools haphazardly piled on the flat surfaces of the room, and smelled the deep tang of incense that still drifted in the air. She pulled off her damp clothes and flopped onto the bed, crawled under the blankets, and waited for sleep to claim her.

When she awoke, it was nearly noon and she'd missed her first class of the day. She jolted out of bed, hurriedly showered, then dashed off to her afternoon classes. By the time dusk came, she was deep into her homework, barely noticing that the sun had set and night had claimed the earth for its own. A knock sounded at her door, and she pulled her head out of her literature textbook to answer it.

"Hey, Tar," said Kevin, her obnoxious across the hall neighbor. "Noticed that you didn't come home last night. Does that mean I have to work even harder on you?" He smirked, and tried to worm his way past the door.

"Go away, please," she asked softly, feeling uncomfortable.

"Now, Tara, all you have to do is go out with me. Just give me a chance, y'know. I know you want to."

"You haven't got a clue what she wants, meathead," a voice breathed into his ear. Except the breath was cold. There was something very wrong about that, his hormone-soaked brain made out. Pivoting, he found himself face to face with a very pissed-off looking redhead with a slightly crazy look in her eyes. "Now go, and leave her alone, or you'll not be so lucky next time we meet." The cold look she bestowed on him made the boy want to pee in his pants.

"Yeah, sure, of course," he said stuttering. "Bye."

Willow watched, amused, as he fled into his own room and slammed the door behind him. She turned, and looked at her new lover. "Hi," she said shyly.

"Hi," replied Tara, taking in the very cute vision before her. Willow had traded the dominatrix leather catsuit for an almost frumpy skirt and a bulky sweater. Tara realized she was staring at the girl- vampire, she reminded herself sadly- before her, and stutteringly offered, "Would you like to come in?" She stepped aside and let her lover brush gently past her before closing the door.

****

The next morning found them in much the same position as the former sunrise had, except that they were in Tara's dorm room laying comfortably on her bed, and the curtains were firmly shut against the sun's feeble dawn light. Willow again woke first, and spent a very pleasant hour just gazing at the mortal snuggled up against her. She'd never been much of a cuddler with her former lovers, but decided she had just evolved into one. Tara was a vision in perfection while slumbering, and Willow was forced to smile until her vision grazed the again-healing fang marks on her lover's throat. She knew the dozing girl was weakening, could feel it in how the blood wasn't as thick as it had been the night before.

She touched the tender skin, wiping away a drop of blood that had oozed to the surface. How can I do this to her? And when did I suddenly get a conscience about these kinds of things? Tara snuggled closer, and she decided to ignore the questions plaguing her. Instead, she drifted off to sleep, winding her arms firmly around the mortal girl who was pillowed against her shoulder.

Tara woke up slowly, aware this time of her surroundings and ravenously hungry. She felt weaker than she'd ever been, and could barely lift her head to gaze at her bedside clock. She'd missed her morning class again, and kicked herself for it. She glanced up at the body who seemed curled around her, noting the warm flush that covered her lover's features. My blood did that to her. I wish I could keep giving it to her, but I don't think I can. Sleep overcame her again, and despite her hunger, she repositioned herself on top of her lover and returned to the land of Morpheus.

****

When they awoke again, the sun had passed its zenith and was meandering towards the horizon once more. Shyly, they climbed out of the bed, and Tara disappeared for a few minutes to shower. Willow, her clothes back on, browsed through her lover's books and few personal momentos. She lounged on the bed, sniffing deeply the sheets, the lingering scent of sex filling her nostrils. For the first time in several years, she honestly smiled, somehow pleased by this vaguely domestic routine she could feel forming between the two. Tara returned, her hair damp and tousled. Standing in the doorway, she took in the sight of her lover comfortably sitting on her bed, a part of the room as much as the chair or table. For a few minutes, she forgot the soreness of her neck and the weakness of her body, wanting to believe that it was a mortal girl sitting on her bed, whom she'd made love to not more than a few hours before.

Moving towards her small fridge, Tara pulled out sandwich makings. Her stomach rumbled angrily, unused to the demands being forced upon it. She sat down, and started to eat. Willow moved until she was pressed up against the other girl, her arms lazily pulling Tara closer even as they allowed the mortal to replenish a body severely taxed. When the sandwich was gone and her stomach had decided to curtail its protests momentarily, Tara relaxed into the embrace, pushing the pair down until they lay curled up on the bed together, contentedly snuggling.

"Morning," Willow said, breaking their silence for the first time that day.

"Afternoon," Tara corrected, giggling a bit.

"My mistake." The vampire found a bit of warm skin amazingly interesting, and could feel her lover's heartbeat increase as she began her ministrations.

"I've got, uh, a class this afternoon. I already missed my morning class twice." Tara tried valiantly to resist, but soon ignored her logical mind's insistence on getting up and instead listened to the arousal flowing thick in her veins. She turned in Willow's embrace and kissed the vampire deeply, flicking her tongue gently over barely-extended fangs. The redhead moaned, and crushed the other girl to her, hands everywhere at once but not removing any clothing. She could feel that her lover wasn't strong enough, and tried to slow their actions until they lay panting in each other's arms.

"We have to stop," she said, cursing under her breath.

"Yeah, I, I'm too tired for this," Tara agreed reluctantly. "Stay with me?" she asked, getting up to pull down the covers on her bed.

Willow smiled. "Sure." She climbed under the pile of blankets on Tara's bed and waited as the wiccan shifted around until she was comfortable. The blond girl tucked her head on Willow's shoulder and drifted off to sleep. The vampire stayed awake for the rest of the afternoon, arms encircling her lover, and enjoyed the peaceful feelings the other girl invoked in her.

****

Night came and with it the flood of hunger that always accompanied the setting of the sun. Willow clamped down on her fangs, unwilling to let their presence spoil the moment, the facade of mortality she'd reclaimed in Tara's embrace. Instead she nudged the girl awake, smiling apologetically. Her hand curved around a gently rounded face, down to a throat pale, smooth, and perfect but for the marred fang-marks. She concealed a shudder as her fingers grazed the blemish, and let her chill digits caress a shoulder, until they made their way down an arm to entwine tenderly with their mates.

"Come on, let's get you fed," she said softly as Tara's stomach rumbled noisily, which thoroughly embarrassed the other girl. She pulled the wiccan out of bed via their linked hands. She smoothed their rumpled clothing and led Tara into the half-bathroom where she insisted they brush their teeth. Then she led the still silent young woman to a small Italian restaurant just off-campus enough to be considered a part of Sunnydale proper.

"Ah, signorina Willow," said a small, plump man bustling towards them. "It has been too long, my dear. Tell Antonio what you'd like tonight." He noticed the young woman clutching his friend's hand and bowed stiffly. "Antonio at your service, signorina." He took Tara's free hand and kissed it gallantly.

"This is amore mio, Tara," the vampire introduced the two. "Is your best table free, Antonio? I think we'd like to celebrate- a bottle of wine, and your house special," she said, lowering her voice at the last item.

"Si, si, signorina," the jolly man said, "Come this way." He led them to a secluded back table, right next to a picture window that displayed the southern California landscape as a lush valley of bright pinpoints in the darkness. He left them silently after lighting the table's candle.

Willow smiled at Tara's gaping expression. "I've known Antonio for years. One of my favorite humans, I guess. This is one of the few places in town that'll cater to, um, my specific needs yet also has a little class." Antonio silently returned with two bottles and two glasses. From one he poured a dry red wine and set it before Tara. From the other he poured a thick red liquid and set it before Willow. "Grazie," the vampire said. Bowing, Antonio excused himself.

Tara sipped reservedly at the wine, mulling over its dry fruity taste. "What's that?" she asked, gesturing to Willow's glass and instantly realizing she probably didn't want to know.

The vampire smiled sadly. "Sangue, as Antonio calls it. Blood, my dear." She watched as her companion paled. "It's not human, of course. He'd never serve that, not to anyone. No, it's pig's blood, from the slaughterhouse," she said quickly, trying to reassure the girl. Inwardly, she flinched as Tara struggled to regain her composure. "I won't drink it if it makes you uncomfortable," she offered earnestly.

The blond shook her head. "No, you must be hungry. I'll be fine." But she still brightened as Antonio interrupted them again to serve Tara a large plate of spaghetti and tomato sauce. He placed a small plate with bread on it in front of Willow, who merely nodded her gratitude.

The two companions- friends, lovers, predator/prey, what? they both wondered- gratefully turned to their meals to distract them from their obvious differences. Willow slowly broke the bread into handheld chunks, dipping it in the pig's blood before being able to eat it; ironically it was the only way her undead stomach could handle the food. Tara on the other hand ate hungrily, her nutrient-deprived body demanding attention.

"That was wonderful. Thank you for bringing me here," she said after finishing her plate. Willow shrugged, uncomfortable with the simple gratitude.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" replied the vampire. Her companion nodded. Standing up, she moved over to Tara's seat and gallantly helped the other girl up, linking their fingers, leading her friend out the front door.

Antonio nodded to them from where he stood by the kitchen door, and blushed as Tara waved and smiled at him. He turned to his wife, who was at his elbow. "I have known that girl from since before she was turned, my love, and this is the first time I think I've seen her so happy. God help the one she loves."

****

She led her friend back towards the UC Sunnydale campus. They were both silent, unsure as to what was good conversation fodder. Most of their dealings in the past hadn't required words.

Tara burned with curiosity about her companion. She was not generally a courageous person, but somehow found herself able to ask, "Who are you?"

Willow was startled by the question, and hadn't the faintest idea of how to answer it. She shrugged, "I'm a demon. I wreak havoc and destruction, chaos and disorder, just like my sire taught me to."

She stopped walking, and pulled the vampire around to face her. "No," she said softly. "I don't think you're like that at all."

"It's what I am, Tara," replied Willow softly. "It's what I was made to be."

"Who were you before, you know, your sire made you? Who were you then?"

Willow almost snarled. "I was weak, and I was scared, and I was a freak. I hated myself for bowing down before the Cordelia's of the world. I was the geek, the computer girl, the hacker that nobody paid attention to. That was me before my father made me strong."

"So you were like me, then," Tara said very quietly. "You were just like me."

"No!" Willow looked aghast at that idea. "No, you are so much better than I ever was!"

"Willow," Tara took her lover's face in her hands, ignoring the forehead ridges that appeared and the fangs she could see, "that girl you described could have been me- well, except for the computer stuff. I'm not weak. Have I ever felt weak to you? So neither were you. Goddess, if anything, your sire made you weak, took away your trust in yourself. I don't know what I am to you- if I'm just a random conquest or a foodsource, or anything at all, but I know enough to realize that you're anything but weak. You certainly aren't a nobody. You're special."

"No!" yelled the vampire angrily. "You're wrong! How could I ever have been as decent as you? I was nothing then, and I'm nothing now!" She pulled away from the blond wiccan. "Don't try and tell me I'm special!"

Tara shrank back, hurt. "I'm only telling you the truth. You want a nobody? Look at me. For god's sake, look at me!" she demanded. "What do you see?"

Willow calmed down, and did as she was instructed. "I see the most beautiful young woman I've ever laid eyes on," she said quietly, reverently. "I see the kindest soul I've ever met, that would give her blood to a soulless bastard like me for some reason I can't even begin to fathom." She stepped forward, caressing a pale cheek. "I see the girl I would have fallen in love with, had I a beating heart to lose to her." She stepped that last foot forward, and gently kissed the blond wiccan. "That's what I see, and don't deserve," she said simply, and walked away.

The End, for now...