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Once, in a long dark night after Tara had died, she sat alone in their dorm apartment, knees under her chin and hunkered down in Tara's old chair, the same chair the blond woman had been sitting in when the hacker had returned from rescuing Oz all that time ago. She stared out the window at a near-full moon, the orb shimmering in the cold night air. Tears streaked down her face, and desolation edged its way into her consciousness. Why did you have to leave me?! she raged silently towards the night sky. Why did you have to die?! And she stopped her raging to listen to the tape playing behind her. The Ashokan Farewell gently accompanied the reading of a letter, the reader's voice low and melodic.

"... perhaps... I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not... never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name. Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often times been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness... But... if the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the gladdest days and in the darkest nights... always, always, and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, as the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by... do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again..." [from the soundtrack to Ken Burns' "The Civil War"]

She cried as the reader concluded, "Sullivan Ballou was killed at the first battle of Bull Run." The tears made fresh tracks down her pale cheeks, and she pounded against the chair's soft arm.

As the tape cycled to repeat itself, she felt the faintest whisper of a breeze against her cheek, and the tears stopped. The air tickled her skin, and she sighed against it, almost able to feel the ghostly touch of her wife against her face.{{{

Willow shook herself from the memories. Even the happy ones. Even the consoling ones. She pulled herself fully into the present, turning off the burner under the rice, scooping out the curried chicken into servings for herself and her best friend. She cocked her head, listening for the familiar pattern of Buffy's tread in the hallway. After fifteen more minutes, when she knew the slayer should have returned, she started worry. Throwing the food in the oven to keep it warm, she left the house, looking up and down the street. Twilight had started throwing shadows on the quiet suburban neighborhood, and not within a single shadow was the wispy form of a slayer.

Oh, goddess, no, she thought instantly, well-acquainted with the dread as a long-time friend of the slayer. As she saw her friend slowly turn the corner, plastic bag in hand, Willow breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Hey, Buffy," she called out. Her friend lifted sad hazel eyes in her direction. The eyes slowly, almost imperceptively, brightened a little, and within a minute the slayer was ensconced in a fierce hug. Buffy stopped caring that they were on her front lawn, visible to all the neighbors, and she slipped down her guard enough to let a few tears leak out.

"C'mon, Buff, let's go inside," whispered the hacker, softly. She released Buffy from her embrace, but kept an arm wrapped around the slayer's shoulders. Leading her friend inside, she sat Buff down on the living room couch, and pulled the other woman into her arms again. "You can let it all out. You don't need to be strong around me," she murmured, giving permission to her friend for her grief.

"Oh, god, Will!" cried Buffy softly, letting the tears flow quickly and sadly. She nestled into Willow's embrace, letting the fleet wish that it were Faith's arms around her pass by. "I never thought it would end this way..." She sniffled, letting the pain and grief and hollowness finally take over.

"Neither did I," was the ever-so-quiet reply. "Buffy, what are we going to do?" she asked, a fear for the future deeply embedded in her mind. I thought I had our entire lives ahead of us, to prove to her every day how much I love her, and now she's gone... and Buffy's in the same situation...

"I don't know, I really don't know." The slayer shifted a little, sinking even farther into her best friend's arms. "I thought I had all the time in the world," she murmured, echoing Willow's thoughts.

"I know." The hacker tightened her hold on Buffy and gently kissed the top of her friend's head. "Everything is so complicated now. And we graduate this month," she said softly. "The college asked me if I'd be willing to accept Tara's diploma for her, and I don't know if I can do it."

Buffy lifted her head. "I think you should, Wills. She worked hard for that degree, and needs to be recognized for it. She'd want you to do it, I think."

"I know," repeated Willow. "I will, I know that at least, I just don't know if I can do it without breaking down."

The slayer rested her head on her best friend's shoulder. "She'll be there, you know, in spirit. She'll make sure you don't cry. Remember her in life, Wills, not in death." The slayer roughly pushed the blood-filled image out of her mind. NO! she mentally yelled, I won't remember her like that!

"I'm trying, so hard. But it's like a part of me is just... gone," Willow let the tears leak out slowly, ignoring them as they slid down her face.

"Me, too," Buffy whispered. "Look, I know you have a job to start in a few weeks. But maybe this summer, would you like to maybe take a vacation, somewhere? I think we need to get away from here; there are just too many memories, good and bad."

Willow cocked her head at her best friend. "Just the two of us? Yeah, I'd like that," she said softly. "Where were you thinking?"

Buffy laughed gently, "You remember that geography class I took a few semesters ago? I was thinking maybe Nova Scotia. It'll be a little expensive, but maybe really worth it."

"Yeah, yeah, I like that idea."

*****

Three months later... late July... on Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia...

They flew into the Syndey airport and picked up their things quickly. Passing through customs was actually not too bad; the uniform politeness of the Canadian officials surprising to two Americans used to uniform rudeness. Exhausted from the cross-continent flight, they gladly settled down into their Days Inn room.

"Well, we're here, Wills."

"It's definitely Canada," replied the hacker, head bent and reading a bi-lingual sugar packet she'd picked up at the airport.

"Part of the charm is hearing everything in two languages, I think. I always wanted to be really and truly bilingual."

"Yes, but do we really need the ingrediants in sugar listed in French?"

"Dunno," replied the slayer with a grin, "but someone I guess does."

Buffy laid down on her double bed, testing the springs and mattress. "Have you noticed how clean everything is? Even that public bathroom..." she shook her head in amazement. "Well, tomorrow we go out to that fortress, Louisbourg. It's supposed to be absolutely amazing."

"Fighting stuff, huh?" Willow grinned. "Well, you did the itinerary, let's here it for slayer interests."

"Hey, I planned plenty of outdoorsy stuff too!"

"You are anything but nature girl, Buffy," smirked the hacker.

"Yeah, I know, but it's supposed to be worth it out here. We're gonna see the fort, then go around the island to the National Park up on the Highlands, swing down to the music festival at this Highland Village I read about, then head down to New Brunswick and catch our flight home. A good week and a half of Canadian hospitality and beauty before we have to go back to the hellmouth."

Willow let out a low whistle, "You really spent some time on this, didn't you?"

"What you think I was gonna let us just plop down in the middle of nowhere and hope to hell we could find stuff to do? I've got reservations made, and guidebooks, and everything. Only thing I can't do is drive, that's your department, wiccagirl. I'll be navigator." Buffy got up from her bed and rustled through her things, pulling out a small cloth portfolio. "Here's all the maps and stuff- see, this is me, when I plan."

"I see, I see. Look, I'm tired, okay? Let's just go to dinner and then crash."

"Sure, Will, I can do that."

*****

Willow looked far out to sea. The sounds of martial music wafted over the air, but she ignored the shrill fifes and deeply booming drums. Buffy was back in the fortress proper, no doubt still wandering around the arms exhibits or following the "soldiers" about their duties. The hacker was far beyond the reconstructed fortress, at the end of the sea, walking by the sea. She had walked past the low ruins of a hospital that had been run by the Church, past the old, old graveyard, to the tip of the penninsula. She breathed in the deep sea air and watched the lighthouses in the distance.

A gull flew by screeching. The wind blew her hair back and she sat down on the beach, avoiding several pricker bushes in her quest for a seat. "You would have loved this, Tar," she whispered to the sea. Her wife had always been in touch with the natural world, always dragging the hacker on some nature walk or to a little-known park. Over the few short years they'd been together, Willow had learned more about the outdoors than she had in the rest of her life. She could honestly call herself an outdoorsy type. The redhead wiped her few tears away and shifted until she was sitting Indian style. Taking a deep breath, she started to center herself. Surrounded by the salty-smelling air, the pounding surf, the smooth rocks she was sitting on, even the faint sound of music from far behind her, Willow let herself slip into a deep trance, one much deeper than she'd ever been able to do alone before.

Within the trance, she opened her eyes. The same scene was before her, but overlaid faintly were hundreds of years of people going about their daily business. She could see the vague outlines of ships hauling their cargo, the rough shapes of the buildings that were ankle-high presently. A more definite shape appeared from her right. Walking slowly, a female figure Willow knew well came closer and closer to the seated hacker. Stilled by shock, she remained seated as Tara sat down beside her, face serious but eyes smiling like always.

The blond wiccan was sitting just as her wife, legs crossed before her and hands entwined on her lap. "Hello, love," she said softly, her smooth voice sending shivers down Willow's back.

"How?" stammered the hacker, overjoyed yet not comprehending.

Her wife turned, and smiled, looking down, "Here, it's easier for me to visit you. In the middle of such an old place, such a natural place near the sea, I can come across the boundary between life and death with much less effort. Meditating called me, Willow. So I came to you."

"I miss you, so much," said Willow, her shadow self crying.

"I know," whispered Tara, "I know. I can hear your grief, love. I wish I could be there for you, but I can't."

"Why? Why not be there for me? Why did you have to die, love?" Willow reached out to touch her wife, but pulled back, not sure she could.

"My time on earth was over, I think. I don't really know. It's not like death comes with an instruction manual," her low laugh forced Willow into smiling; it had been far too long since she'd last heard that joyous sound. She turned, fixing her wife with an intense gaze, boring into the hacker's very soul. "You have to live, Willow. You can't spend your life grieving. There's so much you can accomplish, so much good that won't happen if you cry your life away. I'll always be here, in the back of your mind, in your heart. I'll never really leave you. I love you too much. But it hurts to stand back as you just wallow in sadness. I can't live, anymore. You have to live enough for both of us. And Buffy needs you, too. She's feeling just as empty as you are, and she didn't even have the time we had. Together, you can do so much. If you let each other just weep, then all that good will go undone."

"It's just so hard," whispered the hacker. "I'm just so empty. Sometimes, I can almost feel you there, with me. But I'm alone, Tara. You are my heart, and now it's gone." She felt a ghostly touch on her cheek, and leaned into the caress.

"I'm not gone, love, I'm really not. I'm with you, all the time. It's just hard to make myself known. And you're surrounded by people who love you- Buffy and Xander and Giles and Joyce and Oz, even Anya, Cordelia, Angel, and Wesley care about you. You have to accept their love, feel like you're worth it, give them that love back."

"I let you die!" screamed Willow, letting the guilt wash over her like the sea pounded against the rocks a few feet away. "I held you as the life slipped from your body, and you want me to love again! Goddess, I can't do that!" She held her head in her hands, and slumped forward.

"There was nothing you could have done, Willow," said Tara, almost harshly. "No one could have predicted I would die that night, no one could have stopped it from happening. If it wasn't that damn car, it would have been a vampire that was just quick enough, or accidentally dropping the hairdryer in the bathtub. It happened, let it go. I know how much it hurts, gods, I know that, but please, for me, just let it go." She moved, with a ghost's ease, in front of the hacker. Willow lost herself in the bluest, gentlest eyes she had ever seen, dead or alive, and slowly, ever so slowly, let go all the guilt and pain. After what seemed like eternity passed, Tara softened her tone and whispered, "See, my love? You don't have to grieve your whole life to prove how much you love me. I know how much you love me, with every touch and word and thought you proved that to me a long time ago. You are the other half of my soul, and one day we'll be together again. But until then, please, be happy any way you can. Live, and love, and learn. I'll be waiting, I promise you that. I have good company, and so do you."

The shade of her wife slowly rose until she stood gazing out to sea, her back to the hacker. Willow dried her shadow-tears, and climbed up. Hesitantly, unsure if she even could, she slipped her arms around Tara's shade. She pulled her wife close, burying her head in soft blond hair. The body in her embrace was warm, living, at least in their trance state. She could almost feel a heart pumping blood to each cell. "You're real," she whispered, eyes tearing again.

"As real as you need me to be, at least here," murmured Tara, gladly leaning back into the embrace. "I've missed this," she said ever so softly.

"So have I," Willow replied. She kissed her wife's neck gently, then Tara's lips as the wiccan tilted her head backward. "I love you, so much," she said.

"I love you too," Tara murmured. "Forever." The trance state slowly faded back into reality, and Willow found herself back alone on the beach, the tide a good deal closer than it had been. She sat there, for a long second, then rose, brushed off her jeans, and turned to start back towards the fortress. At the last second, she bent down and picked up a small, smooth stone from the beach. Slipping it into her pocket, she smiled.

Part 4