Tara Bad

It's been really quiet around here lately. No, not at m'crypt, but yeah, it's been quiet here, I meant in town. At least as far as Slayer and friends are concerned. I think something's going on. 'Course, no one's gonna fill me in… I'm evil. I'm not allowed to know things. Sod 'em.

Time for a smoke and a spot o' blood. Maybe watch a little telly. Too bad there's nothing on but bad sit-coms. You'd figure sooner or later those network people would figure out what the good stuff is and get rid of the crap. They don't. Reality TV? Reality my ass.

Bloody hell, I just got settled. Now I gotta get up to answer the sodding door. Who the bleeding hell could be comin' to talk to me now?

I pull the sodding door open and it's… "Tara. Something wrong, love?" I ask, knowing there must be something wrong for her to look like that. She looks terrible.

She nods and takes a step forward, waiting for me to move so she can come in; I step out of her way, staying back enough to keep Mr. Sunshine from singeing my toes - there's still a little bit of daylight left - then push the door closed once she's inside. She turns to me and almost bursts into full-flowing tears before she can start telling me anything. Tears - they do it every time. I can't take it. I put my arms around her and hold her to me and just hold her, not saying anything. She'll talk when she's ready. And this is the usual Tara - not the one who comes to see me and walks over here mostly naked, no, this is the 'Real' Tara; Red's Tara; the shy girl with a stutter. She smells so clean, so fresh, like Slayer's front yard after a spring rain - all the roses and trees.

"I… I don't know h-how to t-tell you this." She looks down at her feet as she pulls away from me a little.

"You know you can tell me anything, love. Something happen to Red? Nibblet?"

She shakes her head. "No. Nothing happened to Willow or Dawn. It's…" She pauses to wipe tears from her eyes and cheeks. "Buffy's mom." She chokes back a sob and swallows hard, trying to look into my eyes without crashing into tears again.

I frown. "What about Joyce?" I ask.

Tara looks away. "She died this morning," she says, slowly lifting her eyes to meet mine again.

Complete shock. I can't move, can't speak. I have no idea what to think, much less what to say. Nothing. I feel my head moving, shaking back and forth and almost don't even realize what I'm saying as I say it… "No. She can't. No. I don't believe you."

She nods again. "It's true, Spike. Buffy found her this morning. We've been at the hospital most of the day." I hear her sniffle as she turns away from me, hiding her tears I'd expect. She doesn't need to.

"How's the Nibblet takin' it?" I ask. Need to focus on something else. Not me or Tara or Joyce. Anything else.

She shrugs. "As well as she can, I guess. I don't think Buffy's doing as well though."

I frown. "Why d'you say that? Strong. Stalwart. That's the slayer. Handles situations when they come up."

"Sure. Handles situations. But 'mom's dead' doesn't come up all that often." Tara bursts into full flowing tears again. I can't just watch her cry. Damn sappy poet in me.

"C'mere, love." I draw her close and put m'arms around her. She seems so much more fragile than before; so different.

Sniffles and small gasps and she presses her face against my chest. Poor girl. I wish I knew what to do. But, Scoobies don't want any help from me, so, guess I'm stuck doin' what I can when they want me 'round. Bloody stupid gits they are.

"Anything I can do?"

"No. No, I don't think so." She sniffles again and looks up at me. I kinda just want her to talk. She might feel better if she does. "Why are you being so nice about this?"

"'Bout Joyce dyin'?" I shrug. "I liked her. She was nice to me."

"Yeah. She was like that."

"Even when I was really evil."

Tara lets out a laugh and looks surprised that she could laugh at a time like this. "You're not supposed to make jokes."

"Wasn't. I really was more evil then. Wanted to eat all of Sunnydale, kill the slayer. The usual stuff. Joyce was nice to me. Didn't have to be. She coulda just called Buffy and had me staked. But, she gave me cocoa…"

"…with the marshmallows? Dawn's told me that story a hundred times. You tell her that?"

"Yeah. Once or twice. She thinks it's funny that I drank cocoa."

Tara shakes her head and crosses her arms across her stomach. "No. She thinks it's funny that you like marshmallows." She smiles and it's radiant. Even with the news, she's beautiful. I hate m'self for this. She just needs to go.

I quirk m'eyebrows. "Well, yeah, guess that's a bit odd." I look at the floor, then back at her. Dammit, shy moves like the poet me from long ago. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah. I mean, I guess so. I don't know what to do." She sidles close to me, arms still folded, and puts her head against my chest. What is she doing? I don't move, just wait. Slowly, she unfolds her arms and slides them over my chest, my shoulders, down my arms and back up, then over my neck and into my hair.

"Tara, love," I start, but she covers my mouth with hers and everything else is lost. I don't think this is such a good idea. I pull away as much as she'll let me - not much - and close my eyes, my hands on her arms, holding her at bay. "I don't think we should do this."

"Probably not, but I need something. And you're here and…" She snakes her hands into my hair, well, tries to, I'm still holding her arms, but she reaches my hair - guess I'm not holding too tight - and sticks her tongue out, trying to taste my lips.

How the hell am I supposed to resist that? I sigh. "Tara, love, we really…" control is slipping as she finds a way to rub one leg against mine, "…really…" she's leaning forward, her breasts barely brushing against me, "…should stop…" Oh, bloody hell, there's no way I'm gonna stand a chance against this. She's kissing at my chin and jaw and pushing hard against my hands, trying to get close to me and I'm trying so hard to resist and tell her to go, but I'm having a rough go of it here.

"Just let go, Spike," she says softly. "It doesn't mean anything. Just us. Here. Comforting." Her voice is breathy and soft and sexy and her words sound so right and… Shit. This is not going well… actually, it's going quite nicely, but just… shit.

I want to just let go. Just let her do whatever she wants. Just be here with her and do this, but it just doesn't feel right. (And I think I need to use the word 'just' more.) "I can't."

"Can't what?" She's still trying to kiss me.

"I can't do this. Go back to Red." I try to push her away, but she holds on to me.

She shakes her head. "No. I don't want to. You need me. This." Shit, she's gonna cry again.

"No. I don't. I'm fine. Go on now. Before they start worrying." I push her toward the door and back away, trying to create distance. She takes the hint and climbs the few stairs to the door. Taking one quick look back at me, she nods and leaves.

Shit.

Part IX