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Disclaimers: I don't own 'em, Joss does, and he is god. I shall return them in due time. Contains consenting same-gender, cross-species intercourse of a canon and non-canonical nature. I’m only playing in the man’s sandbox, I lay no claim to the sand, the shovel, or the bucket.

This is a continuation of the "Blood of Our Beloved" series, as I've decided to call it. The alternate universe is as follows: Willow=vampire, Tara=human, Willow+Tara=couple. I'm warping the Buffyverse vampire rules like a frickin' bendy straw, deal with it. Part of it, you’ll understand when you get there, is post-"Family", but only exceedingly minor (i.e. one Tara’s last name). Oh, and in this ‘verse, there is no Kendra.

Archiving: the regulars are welcome, anyone else has to ask nicely. Please email me for an HTML or Word version though, I’d like it if you kept the intended formatting that’s lost in email.

Feedback sent to ressick@yahoo.com is welcome, send it to anyone else and I won't get it.

SPECIAL NOTE: This fic had been a long time coming. Sorry, folks. Hope you like it. Oh, and it’s dedicated to Dreiser. See, here, my revenge for her awesome songfic "Pretty In Pink." I think you’ll like the very end, m’dear. It has potential.

****

"The Neverending Hunger"

by Ressick

...

"I want someone to know me
Maybe tell who I am
Cause I’ve faced down my demons
And cried out to a god
A god I’ve never seen" - Third Eye Blind

In the alleyways and dark shadows of Sunnydale, California, a vampire wandered aimlessly. It prowled like a cat, but scurried away as soon as any possible prey made an appearance. Dressed in a frumpy skirt and baggy sweater, the vampire made its way across town, angry, frustrated, disappointed, and absolutely furious with a recent turn of events.

"Heya Wills," crooned another vamp from the shadows.

"Go away Xander," growled the vampire once known as Willow Rosenberg.

"Whoa, okay, okay," said her formerly human friend. "But first, you should probably know that that stupid blond chick you've been fucking, well, I heard that Larry has decided to save her for breakfast tomorrow."

She swiveled around, mouth gaping open, "What?"

Xander grinned cruelly, "Didn't think I knew about her? C'mon Wills, I could smell the reek of sex on you a mile away. She's cute, but I didn't think you went for girls. Maybe, we could play together sometime," he leered before slipping away.

Willow growled and morphed into her vampiric self. "Where does Larry hole up these days?" she muttered to herself before running off.

****

Tara decided she really didn't like graveyards. Especially ones where the residents decided to get up and walk regularly. So far, from her vantage point in the crypt, she'd watch three vampires rise from their graves. She would have looked away before seeing the entire emergence, but it wasn't like there was anything better to do but contemplate her fate.

How could I have been so stupid? she berated herself. Running after Willow had seemed like a good idea at first, but as she became lost in the backstreets of Sunnydale proper, she'd decided that running about at night over a hellmouth probably wasn't a good idea. She had almost finished retracing her steps when a big hulking form had decided she was easy to catch. She had struggled, valiantly, but in her weakened state she couldn't cast even the most basic spell. The hulk of a vampire had tied her up and carted her back to the stinking crypt she now decided she really didn't like.

The vampire sitting over in the corner nursing his wounds could have been considered handsome once. But he'd discovered that vampires were seemingly just as homophobic as their human forebears. His face was a criss cross of scars and his body a montage of lash marks and sword swipes. So the creature formerly known in high school as Larry the Gay Jock was now Larry the Queer Vamp who drank from girls just to try and prove his machoness. Larry wrapped his hands and glanced over at his latest capture.

She looked at him with fear plain in her eyes. Part of him reveled in that fear, but another part simply said, 'why?' He wanted to go and recruit from the newest members of the football team, but knew that it would warrant another attack from Xander if he did. He recalled the last time he'd done so and the jeers the other vampire had thrown at him as he’d been beaten up. He's just as queer as I am, yet he insists on playing this stupid game, thought the jock absentmindedly.

"You've got till morning, lady," he said softly to his captive. "so you might as well try to sleep before breakfast." His fangs showed for a second and Tara visibly backed away.

The door to the crypt exploded inward from the force of Willow's kick. "I don't think so, Larry," she growled, launching herself at the jock. Her small, compact form was all over the larger hulk, slashing at his body with claws and fangs and well-placed kicks. "This one is mine," she snarled angrily.

"Okay, okay, I didn't see the Property of sign!" he yelled, raising his hands weakly in self-defense. "You can have her for all I care!"

Willow backed off a bit, and wiped her face of Larry's blood. "As long as you understand the situation, buddy-boy," she retorted. "Keys," she demanded, accepting them as Larry frantically tried to re-bind his wounds. She slunk over towards the cage and unlocked it, freeing Tara. "For being so... understanding... I'll try and keep Xander from pounding your face in this week," she offered. The terrified vampire nodded hysterically. Willow smiled, and waited until the wiccan had fled before walking nonchalantly out of the crypt and shutting the door quietly behind her.

Tara winced as she saw the blood splattered liberally over her lover. And she shuddered as she saw Willow's vampire form for the first time in any sort of light. The moon cast an eerie glow over the thickened brow and shiny fangs Willow possessed. Her eyes were bright and clear and utterly filled with rage at her fellow creature.

Willow saw the fear in her lover's eyes and tried to calm herself enough for the forehead ridges to recede. When she could feel them disappearing and melding with the normal look of her face, she hesitantly stepped closer to Tara. "Are you all right?" she asked softly. Tara nodded and raised her hand slowly before decided to drop it back towards her side. Willow cursed herself internally. I may have kept Larry from using her for breakfast, but now she's terrified of me!

"Th-thank you," she stuttered, reaching up with a little extra courage and wiping the blood gently off of Willow's face. The green eyes of her lover were stormy and run through with the red veins like all other vampires.

The vampire smiled shyly, surprised, "You're welcome," she replied simply, taking Tara's hand in her own and kissing the palm gently. A presence made itself known at her back, and she whirred around suddenly, startling the mortal girl next to her. "Who's there?" she demanded, fangs showing.

"A friend," said a tired, almost defeated voice. From the shadows of the graveyard came a tall man in a long black duster jacket.

"Angel," hissed Willow, somewhat acquainted with the local demonic outcast.

"Yes," answered the souled vampire calmly. "I've been watching you two."

"What's that supposed to mean?" growled Willow, pulled Tara up next to her and standing just in front of the wiccan protectively.

Angel sighed, wishing his reputation was a little better among his kinsfolk. "It means, that I'm here to help. I got my soul back from a curse, everyone knows that. And you're getting yours back, slowly but surely. Otherwise you wouldn't be protecting that mortal there." He gestured to Tara, meeting the girl's frightened eyes and smiling reassuringly.

"I don't want your help," snarled Willow.

Tara tugged on Willow's sleeve, "But I think you should take it," she said, softly but surely, staring at the ground as she spoke.

The vampire's eyes melted slowly, the rage and distrust bleeding away. Angel smiled slightly, and turned to leave. "Coming?" he asked softly, and waited for the unlikely pair to follow him.

****

He led them to a mansion on the outskirts of town. Willow slinked along, ashamed because every self-respecting vampire in Sunnydale, hell, in the whole world, avoided the souled vampire like the plague. Even though vampires essentially owned Sunnydale, they left him alone with his curse.

The curse was legendary. He'd played with a Gypsy girl, and been cursed with his soul back a hundred or so years ago. Nobody really cared about the details, except that he fought against his kind. A good number of the Sunnydale vampire population wanted him dead.

And Willow had been among that number for a long time. In a sick and twisted way, she blamed him for being a vampire in the first place. He'd been protecting her, and her small group of friends, for years, having sensed something extraordinary about them, but one night he had failed, not been there quick enough to keep her from rising and killing her sire. He'd also been unable to stake her, still able to see a faint shadow of the bright-eyed innocent in the monster. He also was unable to stop her when she turned Xander and Jesse.

The mansion was huge, gothic, and in shabby repair. He led them inside, through endless corridors until he reached the kitchen, where a simple wooden table and chairs were the only furnishings, and an ancient refrigerator hummed quietly in the background. Angel went to the cupboards, and pulled out three glasses. From the fridge he pulled out two bottles, one plastic and filled with soda that he poured for Tara, and one glass bottle filled with blood that he poured for himself and Willow. He doled out the drinks, and motioned for his guests to sit.

"So why are we here, soul-boy?" growled Willow, eyes narrow and angry.

"Shh…" hushed Tara, entwining her free hand with her lover’s. Willow relaxed at the touch, and leaned back till she was only slightly threatening. Angel hid behind his mug to keep from visibly smiling.

"What’s this about souls?" asked the redhead, edging towards polite behavior.

Angel openly smiled, "You’re not like your kin, Willow." He motioned to Tara, "Her blood, freely given, flows through your veins. To have a mortal give such a gift, knowing the price it entails- and believe me, she knows the price- is so rare, and special, that whatever higher beings there may be have decreed that mortal blood, freely given, will also return to the receiver their soul. You are evolving, very simply."

"What does this mean?" asked Tara softly.

"It means I’ll become like him," replied Willow with a mixture of awe and disgust. Angel nodded. "How long?" she inquired softly.

"A few days, maybe less. Then you’ll have your soul back. Willow, this is a great gift, especially as it must be coming from your soulmate to be acting so quickly."

"Soulmate," Tara breathed the word reverently, as if she’d spoken it before, the term slipping easily from her tongue.

Willow, her eyes a mix of human green and vampire blood-red, looked over at her companion, lover, soulmate, and gaped.

"I’d like to help you both," said Angel softly, after a few minutes of biding his time as the pair were lost in each other.

"How?" asked Tara, forcibly turning her attention to the brooding vampire.

"I can give Willow several of my contacts so she can be supplied with food. And the transition from soulless to souled is very difficult. The demon within her will fight being expelled. She’ll be a bit different afterward. I can help during the next week to accustom you both to Willow having her soul back." He sipped his blood as he spoke, gazing from one to the other, watching the pair with an avid interest.

Willow grimaced, but said, "That would be... nice, Angel." At a light reproaching glare from Tara she added, "Thank you."

"You’re welcome," he responded with a smile. "There are a few of us, here and there, with souls. If you’d like to meet more of our kind of kin, I’d be glad to introduce you."

"Perhaps," said the redheaded vampire reluctantly.

He nodded, accepting her answer. "It’s late. Perhaps you both should head home. You’ll need your rest in the days to come."

Tara smiled brightly at him, "Thank you," she said simply, and rising, led a sullen Willow from the mansion.

****

They walked hand in hand back towards the Sunnydale campus. Willow brooded almost as much as the vampire whose company and existence she hated.

"Do you not want your soul back?" asked Tara softly, hesitantly, of her companion. "Or are you upset about... the other stuff?"

The vampire whipped her head up with a startled look. She started to say something reassuring, but shook her head, "I don’t really know. Part of me is doing a little mental happy dance at just the idea of getting my soul back." She shrugged, "But part of me is so angry, it wants to lash out and kill some people."

The blonde nodded, and lapsed into silence.

Realizing what she’d said, Willow started, "But I’m not gonna, I promise, because killing is bad and I know you wouldn’t want me to do anything like that and I guess the souled part of me is fighting down the demon cuz those kinds of urges have really started to disappear since I’ve met you and that’s so great and..."

Tara cut her off, laughing softly, "Willow, it’s okay, I believe you." She stopped walking, and gently pulled the other girl to her. "I know you," she whispered, caressing Willow’s cold cheek as the vampire slowly leaned into the affectionate touch. "I love you," she mouthed to Willow’s closed eyes.

The redhead leant closer to Tara’s warm form and tried to draw the heat into her cool body. Slowly their frames melded together, softness blending, arms wrapped tight. They stood for a short eternity, simply existing, together.

****

A week later, Willow awoke from a good day’s sleep to a wracking pain in her gut. She’d ended up staying the night before with Tara, and the blinds in the dorm room were carefully shut tight. She had to resist an urge to open them and let the blinding, murderous rays of the sun stream towards her body. She had an urge to run outside and allow the light to transform her into dust. She had an urge to find the nearest stake and throw herself on it. She had an urge to find a cross or star of David or pentagram and hold it to her body like a hot brand. She had an urge to go swimming in the nearest church’s baptismal font of holy water. She had an urge to find a good guillotine.

She was feeling just a wee bit suicidal. Instead of giving in to the urges, she curled up in a ball and whimpered. Three hours later, her last afternoon class over, that was how Tara found her, immobile on the bed and whimpering like a kicked puppy.

"Willow?" she asked softly, sitting on the bed next to her lover, and pulling the vampire towards her. Though the redhead’s forehead was flat and human, her eyes gleamed with a sickening reddish tinge, and her fangs were fully extended. The wiccan could feel the aura of the vampire dividing- human and demon- and started to panic. Taking a deep breath, she did the only thing she could. She picked up the phone and called Angel.

He arrived a smoking mess, his trench coat pulled up and a blanket thrown over his head. As soon as he was in the room, he knelt by Willow, taking her hand in his and murmuring soothingly to her. The other vampire’s presence only seemed to make the young vampire more anxious, and she began to thrash around again, until Tara laid her hand on Willow’s stomach. Instantly, the redhead calmed, and opened her eyes weakly.

Angel met Tara’s eyes sadly, "This is going to be difficult, Tara. I need to call a friend of mine, may I use your phone?" The blond nodded, and he picked up the receiver, dialing a number from memory. "Giles? This is Angel. I need you to bring a few things by this address..."

Rupert Giles was a Watcher, he explained in his soft British accent, upon arriving with an armload of mystical equipment. He was to watch paranormal activity and report on it. He’d become friends with Angel soon after arriving in Sunnydale and assisted the souled vampire whenever it was required.

Angel set up a few small things that no one, neither occult expert even, recognized, and quietly began to chant after asking Giles and Tara to leave the room. He placed his hand gently over Willow’s heart and let a bit of his life force go into the young vampire.

She screamed as Angel fully returned her soul. And outside her room in the corridor, Tara screamed as well in panic, and began to pound on the door. Giles held her back, soothing the frantic wiccan gently as she collapsed in his arms sobbing. The kindly Brit glanced at the door to the room and thought, I hope you know what you’re doing Angel.

****

An hour later, Angel emerged from Tara’s dorm room, paler than usual and with an air of utter exhaustion about him. He nodded to Tara’s unspoken plea, and moved out of the way as she rushed past him.

"Did you succeed?" asked Giles quietly.

"Yes," replied Angel sadly as he left. Giles stood in the hallway for a few minutes, confused and just a bit tired, then slowly he walked towards the still-open door and gently knocked.

"Come on in," said Tara softly. She sat on a chair next to her bed, where Willow slept fitfully. "She hasn’t woken up yet," she replied to Giles’ silent question.

"Do you need anything? Can I help?" he asked.

Tara wasn’t used to accepting help from near-strangers, but she nodded wearily. "If you could pick up some food at the market, please. I’m out at the moment. And if you know of a good butcher who will supply you with blood..."

"Right away. I’ll be back in a jiffy," replied Giles, closing the door behind him.

The small organic market was practically empty, and so the Watcher was easily able to obtain a few items he thought Tara might need. High protein and high carbohydrate foods were necessary to replenish blood loss, and he’d seen the fang marks on the young blonde’s neck. Paying at the checkout, he ran over in his head the various butchers in town he knew, and after putting the groceries in his ancient rustbucket of a vehicle, he set out on foot for the nearest one.

Returning a little over an hour later, he was not surprised to find Willow still mostly unconscious. What he didn’t expect was to feel the dimensional shift in the small dorm room. Tara was tuned in as well, and met the Watcher with a wide-eyed gaze.

Willow cried out in her delirious state, "Buffy, no!"

"She’s been ranting like that, calling for some girl named Buffy, and some other people - Xander, Oz, Miss Calendar, Cordelia - for almost twenty minutes," said Tara softly. "She’s been calling out for you too."

Giles seemed mystified, "I’ve never met her before today. And she wouldn’t remember me, she’s been unconscious."

"It’s the dimensional shift. I - I’ve always been able to feel them. Sometimes I get visions from alternate realities, or at least that’s what I think they are. Angel, whatever he did, gave her that ability too." Tara was soft, and stuttering in her explanation.

"He created a rent in the dimensional gates," murmured Giles. Tara only nodded.

****

Tara Maclay spooned her lover gently. "Willow?" murmured the young wiccan, pushing a lock of light blondish-brown hair behind her ear. "Willow, hon?" She had had a late study session with a classmate for finals, and had just returned to their dorm room to find her girlfriend asleep, with textbooks scattered next to their bed.

"No! NO!" screamed the redhead in her sleep. Tara’s jaw fell open in shock. She shook Willow gently, then harder as the hacker refused to wake up and only began to whimper, curling up into a fetal ball. Slowly, Tara became aware of the strange aura around her love. The dimensional gates, that she’d been able to sense since childhood, were fuzzy around Willow’s body. Shuddering, she pulled away from the redhead and reached for the telephone.

"Buffy? Call Giles, I need both of you over here quickly. It’s Willow. Something’s wrong."

Part 2