Six

THE LOVERS

“Hold up,” Willow said. “I’ve seen that card...I’ve seen it before.”

“You’ve seen it?” Rebecca said, and looked at her. “I thought you hadn’t seen tarot cards before?”

Willow was staring at the card, her eyes riveted on it, all the color suddenly drained from her face.

“Faith, are you all right?” Rebecca said. “Look at me.”

Willow looked at her.

Willow’s hand was shaking a little now. Rebecca took Willow’s hand, and caressed her hair.

Rebecca looked into her eyes. Willow didn’t look away...she could never hide from Rebecca.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Rebecca said. “Tell me.”

“I saw it...I saw it in a dream, Becca,” Willow said.

“A dream? You saw this card in a dream?” Rebecca said, and tapped the card with her finger. “This exact card?”

“Yeah,” Willow said. “The dream...it...freaked me out a little, Becca. I got...I got all...”

Willow was close to crying, and she didn’t even know why. She didn’t know why the dream had made her cry before. She was trying not to. She was trying to be strong. Willow always wanted to be strong for Rebecca...every second, all the time...

Rebecca was still looking at her; Willow could feel Rebecca’s eyes like blue fingers now, gently probing her. Willow had seen quite a lot of those dark, deep blue eyes and she knew them, she could read them. They had tides, like the ocean...Willow knew Rebecca was worried now.

“Tell me the dream, Faith,” Rebecca said, softly. “Tell me all of it, from start to finish, and don’t leave anything out.”

Willow always told Rebecca everything. She thought it was strange, now, that she hadn’t mentioned the dream to her before. She didn’t know why she had kept it from Rebecca...she never kept things from Rebecca.

“I was in The Roxy,” Willow said. “Evan was there, and some girl I’ve never met too, I didn’t really get a good look at her? But she was on the floor...she was sleeping on the floor right there in the club. I didn’t know why. And...people were like, staring at us and there was no music playing, the whole place was quiet. The room smelled bad too...I don’t know how it smelled exactly but I just remember I didn’t like the way it smelled for some reason. And then I noticed I was holding something in my hand? And I looked down, and it was that card.”

They looked at the card together.

“The five of cups,” Rebecca said. “You’re certain it was this card?”

“Yeah,” Willow said. “That guy with like, the black cape or whatever, looking down at the water and looking all sad, plus the two gold cups standing up behind him and the three gold cups knocked over spilling red stuff out, yeah, it was this card.”

“All right,” Rebecca said. “Go on.” Rebecca was still holding her hand, and stroking her hair. Willow’s hand wasn’t shaking anymore now.

“I was talking to Ev?” Willow said. “And like, the girl was asleep and people were staring...and then Ev asked me about his coat, and, and I don’t know why but...I started to cry.”

“His coat?”

“Yeah.”

“Was he wearing a coat in the dream?”

Willow shook her head.

“And then...Ev was drinking from a golden cup that looked just like the ones on the card and then he dropped it,” Willow said. “He dropped it and all this red stuff spilled out like on the card, and I woke up and I was like, I don’t know, I was all freaked out. ”

“That’s everything?” Rebecca said. “That’s everything you remember?”

“Yeah.”

“Think back to the dream. Think about the girl asleep on the floor. Can you see her? Can you see what she looks like? Can you remember anything about her? Concentrate.”

Willow thought about the dream, tried to picture it again in her mind. She remembered how the room smelled bad. She remembered the girl, but she realized the girl was merely the idea of a girl, the concept of a girl; Willow knew the girl was there in the dream but she couldn’t see her...yet she still thought the girl was pretty, for some reason...

Then it hit her. The girl had a scent...a beautiful scent, like flowers...the room smelled bad but the girl smelled beautiful, like a flower Willow had smelled before; Rebecca had kept that kind of flower in the house at some point in the past, but Willow couldn’t place it, couldn’t remember its name...

Then, suddenly, Willow realized she did know the flower, she could remember its name. It was strange; it felt as if she suddenly had access to someone else’s memories, to knowledge she’d never had before. She knew flowers; she knew all about flowers. She knew flowers backwards and forwards...

“Jasmine,” Willow said. “I couldn’t see the girl but she had a pretty smell...she smelled like jasmine.”

“All right, let’s stick with your nose,” Rebecca said. “You’re the Slayer; your nose is much stronger than any of your other senses. You said the room smelled bad. Bad how?”

Willow thought back to the dream, but instead of picturing it in her mind she tuned in to her nose. The dream seemed sharper in her mind, when she did that; when she concentrated on what she was smelling in the dream instead of what she was seeing, everything became more clear, and she even saw things in the dream better. Evan was wearing a black turtleneck shirt and some of the people staring at them were wearing sweaters; it must have been cold outside. She could still only see the girl out of the corner of her eye, but she was sure now that the girl had blonde hair. Willow filtered through the smells of perfume and cologne and alcohol and sweat that permeated the room; the girl’s jasmine smell was still there too. It was an amazing scent; whoever the girl was, Willow knew she was beautiful...

She tried to filter the girl’s scent out; it was distracting. For some reason she couldn’t detect Evan’s scent, even though he was standing nearby; she assumed he had just showered and that had covered it up. And the jasmine scent still seemed very strong...it made it hard to concentrate on other scents, on Evan’s scent. But it wasn’t that the jasmine scent was more powerful than any of the other people’s scents, Willow realized; it just smelled so good...

But the room smelled bad. It smelled like...

Willow concentrated on her nose.

The room smelled like...

...Rotten meat.

“Vampires,” Willow said. “The room smelled like vampires.”

“Vampires,” Rebecca said. “You’re certain?”

“Yeah,” Willow said, and looked at the card...the five of cups.

When she looked at the card now, she saw Evan there: the man with the dark hair, looking down at the ground, all his hopes destroyed, spilling out of the golden chalices and dwindling away to nothing, he looked like Evan now...

Willow knew Slayer dreams came true. She knew Evan was going to die. The room smelled like vampires...vampires would kill him...

Having the Slayer in his life would kill him...

If she stayed with Evan, she would kill him.

Willow felt herself shaking again. She felt her world, spinning off its axis...and floating away, back into the cold...

“Faith,” Rebecca said. “Faith. Look at me.”

Her face ghost-white, her hands shaking, Willow looked at Rebecca...

Rebecca hugged her, and held her to her bosom.

After a moment, Rebecca lifted Willow’s chin, and looked at her again. Willow got lost sometimes, in those blue eyes; sometimes she just wanted to stay there forever, and never come back out...

“Faith,” Rebecca said. “Slayer dreams do come true but they aren’t set in stone. They aren’t true visions of the future so much as they’re warnings, hints. The things you see can be interpreted in many different ways, and they can also be changed. They aren’t set in stone, darling. They aren’t. All right?”

Willow nodded.

“Slayer dreams are powerful, but they aren’t straightforward,” Rebecca said. “They need careful interpretation and the obvious interpretation is often the wrong one. I know you care about Evan. I know dreaming about him in a room with vampires scares you. But that doesn’t have to mean he’s going to die, Faith.”

“It doesn’t?” Willow whispered.

“No,” Rebecca said. “There’s more to the dream than Evan in a room with vampires. There’s the card, there’s the chalice Evan drank from, there’s the fact that he asked you about his coat. There’s the girl on the floor who smells like jasmine. Even the fact that it took place at The Roxy could be meaningful. Those things are all just as important to the dream’s meaning as the fact the room smelled like vampires to you and there are all kinds of things the dream could be trying to tell you, things you may not know for a long time, or that you may not ever know. You don’t need to be afraid of this dream. You don’t need to let it paralyze you. Just be aware of it, that’s all. Let it guide you. That goes for all the Slayer dreams you have. And remember, not all your dreams will be Slayer dreams; you’ll dream you’re naked in public, and you’ll dream you’re taking a test you haven’t studied for, and you’ll dream you’re flying and everything else just like a normal person does.”

“I’ll dream of Matt Damon sometimes,” Willow said, and managed a smile.

“Yes, dear, and I’ll dream of Mel Gibson and we’ll both be very happy. But when you have a Slayer dream, it’s special, and you can’t let it paralyze you. If you do that you lose the advantage it gives you. You had that dream for a reason, Faith. The Slayer in you wants you to know something. But if you allow yourself to be ruled by fear of the dream then the wisdom the dream is trying to impart to you could be lost. Do you understand?”

Willow nodded again. “So what’s the deal on the card?” she said, and put her finger on it.

“Every tarot card has a certain specific meaning, or rather a number of potential meanings. A tarot reading is essentially looking at all the cards that come up and piecing a story together from them. It’s a subjective thing; there’s an art to it and it takes a long time for a person to become a good tarot reader. The meaning of a card depends on the position it comes up in, as well as the card itself. And it also depends on what the person being read wants to know. Whatever card comes up in the first position in this spread represents you. It could represent who you are at this moment in your life, what’s influencing you, how you feel about things. It will also bear directly on the question you asked. You got the five of cups; the five of cups is about loss, grief.”

“Does that mean...I’m gonna lose someone?”

“No. That card doesn’t predict your future in that position. In that position it tells us about who you are now, where you are in your life now, especially as it pertains to the question you asked. That card is telling us that you’re grieving, that you feel you’ve lost something. But...I think we should call it a night. We can do tarot some other time, all right? You’ve had a long day, and that dream has left you feeling a little out of sorts. You need a good night’s sleep.”

“No. I want to keep going. I want to do the whole reading.”

Rebecca looked at her again...looked in her eyes. Willow knew Rebecca had a hard time saying no to her but Willow also knew that if Rebecca thought something wasn’t in Willow’s best interests she had no problem at all saying no, and saying it very firmly, and that would just be the end of that.

Rebecca was looking at her.

“Please, Becca?” Willow said. “I’ll be cool, I won’t freak out, I promise.”

“All right,” Rebecca finally said. “But only on the condition that you listen very carefully to what I’m about to say. Are you listening?”

“When you talk I’m always listenin’, Becca,” Willow said.

“That’s because you’re a smart girl,” Rebecca said, and smiled. “Though I’m fairly certain you dozed off that time when I was talking to you about the Boxer Rebellion.”

“Hey, I was just restin’ my eyes,” Willow said, and grinned.

“All right. So listen now and take this to heart. Tarot cards are like Slayer dreams; they require careful interpretation, and they’re meant to guide you, not to rule you. And tarot cards are only a snapshot; they tell us who you are now, where you are in you life now, the future possibilities that are opening up in front of you now. But that snapshot changes with every action you take; whatever the tarot says, whatever possible future it shows, that future can be changed by what you do with your life. You aren’t just a passive observer; you’re living your life and making your own destiny for yourself. Okay?”

“Unless everything’s already happened, like that theory about time.”

“That theory’s claptrap. I mentioned it because it’s what some people believe. I don’t believe it and neither should you. We make our own fates.”

“Okay. So...I’m grieving.”

“You feel like you’ve lost things. But look at the card. Like your dream, there’s more to it than there appears to be. The man on the card seems distraught, because of the overturned chalices.”

“They aren’t all overturned. Two are standing up.”

“Exactly. But he isn’t looking at them; they’re behind him. He can only see the overturned ones. The five of cups tells us that yes, there is loss and there is grief; life is hard and we all lose things, and people, we love. But we need to avoid the trap that man is falling into; we need to make sure we always remember what we still have, and that life goes on and that we can be happy again. He’s lost those three chalices but he still has the other two. You’re grieving because you feel you lost some things, but...”

“I have you,” Willow said, and put her arms around Rebecca, and held her tight.

“Yes, darling,” Rebecca said, and smiled, and kissed her forehead. “You have me.”

“So I’m good,” Willow said, and let Rebecca go. She had a strong Slayer grip and she hugged Rebecca a lot and sometimes she forgot her own strength. Rebecca always laughed about it, but she’d gotten winded a few times too. So Willow was always careful when she hugged Rebecca, and even though she never liked letting go she did. But not all the way; she rested her head on Rebecca’s shoulder, and held her hand, as Rebecca read the cards.

“Okay,” Rebecca said, and began dealing cards from the top of the deck, laying them face-down on the table. “I’m going to lay out the spread and I’ll turn them up one by one.”

Rebecca laid a card horizontally over the first card, then laid four more cards out in a circle clockwise around them, starting at the bottom; she then laid out four more in a vertical column to the right of the others, again starting at the bottom, each one over the next. There were ten cards on the table now, counting the five of cups.

“How come you lay them out like that?” Willow said. “Looks cool, but...”

“There are a lot of different ways to lay out tarot cards, they’re called spreads,” Rebecca said. “This spread, the Celtic cross, is one of the most popular spreads and it’s particularly good for first readings, and for answering specific questions. Obviously the cards that come up are going to be the same cards no matter how I happen to lay them on the table, but the spread isn’t purely decorative. It serves to focus the reader’s thoughts, and it also helps beginning readers to remember which positions mean what in the reading. For example, in the Celtic cross the fourth card, which would be the one to the left of the circle, represents your past, and influences in your life that are receding, while card six represents your immediate future, and card nine represents your hopes and dreams and fears. It’s easier for the reader to remember all that if the cards are laid out in a pattern rather than just remembering what each position signifies based on the fact that it’s the fourth card, or the sixth card or the ninth card dealt. Also there can be connections between the cards in the spread, certain positions that can be read not only by themselves but also in relation to other positions, and there are many spreads that are designed that way, to facilitate that sort of cross-reading. There are readers who come up with their own spreads, and there are readers who don’t bother with spreads at all; they deal the cards and read them right across.”

“How do they know which card means what then?”

“They decide beforehand what each position will stand for in the reading and they decide how many cards they’re going to deal too. There are readings with any number of cards, as few as one card or as many as the whole deck. That’s the thing about tarot, Faith; it’s as much about the reader as the person being read, it’s as much about me as you. You shuffled the cards and determined the order they’ll come up but they’re still my cards; they speak to me in ways they wouldn’t to someone else.” Rebecca smiled. “They’re used to me.”

“I bet tarot people do that spread stuff because it looks all like, fancy and dramatic,” Willow said.

“That too,” Rebecca said.

“You have you own spreads?”

“Yes, I have different spreads that I’ve devised for my own use, depending on the occasion. I haven’t done readings regularly in awhile but I was quite the hand back in my wilder days, when I was your age; people came a long way to have me read them. Made quite a good bit of change doing it too; I traveled all over Europe and the States when I was your age, seeing the sights, moving from place to place, and I supported myself doing tarot readings.”

“Had some wild days, huh?”

“Oh, I could tell you some stories,” Rebecca said, and smiled mischievously, and raised her eyebrow.

“Bet you could. You’re all proper and stuff but I always thought you were a wild girl deep down inside somewhere. I wanna hear those stories.”

“You will sometime, probably after I’ve had some scotch. But tonight let’s discover your story.”

Rebecca turned the second card; it was the card that was laid horizontally over the five of cups. The card depicted a bearded old man wearing a gray hooded cloak, and holding a staff in one hand and a lantern in the other. His eyes were closed, and he was looking down at the ground, not straight ahead. He seemed to be deep in thought.

“The Hermit,” Willow read. “So I’m like some crusty old dude? Harsh. I should be one of those cool queen cards. Like that pretty queen of cups.”

“You are a queen, Faith,” Rebecca said. “The court cards--king, queen, knight, page--usually represent specific people when they crop up in a reading, with different people in your life corresponding to different suits based on their temperament. Everyone in the world can be represented by one of the four suits. You’re a wand.”

“I’m a wand?”

“Wands correspond to diamonds in a regular playing card deck. Wands are brave, adventurous people; they’re warriors. They’re also attractive, charming and charismatic. People feel drawn to them; wands are passionate, and so people are attracted to them. They make friends easily. They’re enthusiastic in what they do, and rather flamboyant and cocky as well. They take risks, they go with their gut. They definitely aren’t the shy, retiring type. They make excellent leaders.”

“Wow,” Willow said. “Being a wand’s awesome. I kick butt.”

“Every suit has its positive and negative sides,” Rebecca said. “Wands are brave but they can also be reckless. They can sometimes go into a situation without using their head. They can be impatient and impulsive and it can get them into trouble. There are good wands and bad wands, people who have mastered themselves and learned to maximize their strengths and minimize their weaknesses, and people who keep making the same mistakes over and over again. You’re one of the good ones.”

Willow smiled. Rebecca always said things like that.

“What suit are you?” Willow said.

“I’m a sword,” Rebecca said. “Swords are analytical, clear-headed, logical people who tend to look before they leap. They’re blunt and direct and right to the point--so to speak--and they don’t tolerate fools gladly. They’re patient; they make plans, they reason things out and only then do they act. They’re the opposite of wands in some ways. Wands are hot; swords are cool. Wands are represented by the element fire, swords by the air. But every suit can have negative qualities and some swords can be cold, unfeeling, manipulative people; they can also be rather boring.”

“You’re not any of the bad stuff,” Willow said. “You’re just the good stuff. You’re making the plans and being patient and being the leader. You’re not cold or unfeeling. Definitely not boring.”

“And you’re very brave, Faith,” Rebecca said.

“Yeah? You really think I’m brave?”

“Remember the part about bluntness and directness? I never talk just to talk. If I say you’re brave I mean it.”

“Cool. So what’s the cups like? They’re like hearts, right?”

“Yes, cups are hearts, wands are diamonds, swords are spades and coins are clubs. Cups are sensitive, kind, loving people; they’re very tender and romantic, and they’re ruled by their emotions. They love caring for people, thinking of others before themselves. Their element is water; that’s why the queen of cups was sitting by the ocean. On the negative side they can be sullen, thin-skinned, and rather fragile. They’re daydreamers; they can be lazy and they can go through bouts of depression. Every cup could use a good wand to shake them out of their daydreams and show them the world. Some readers will tell you that a person’s suit should be based on their looks rather than their temperament, but only amateurs believe that and it doesn’t really make sense; going by appearances, cups are light-skinned and fair-haired, wands are slightly darker but still fair, perhaps with red or light brown hair, swords have dark hair and coins have dark hair and dark complexions. But that system doesn’t work, because if that were the case whole races of people would have to be coins; Asians, Hispanics and Africans would all be coins, something like three-quarters of the world would be coins. But, back to the reading. Here we have the Hermit.”

“Dude’s all thinkin’ about stuff. Dude’s all serious.”

“Yes, he’s seeking answers. He’s experienced some things and now he needs to get away from the world for awhile and think about what he’s experienced, answer some questions for himself. The card in this position in the spread represents what’s ‘crossing’ you, meaning the things that are happening in your life that are contributing to your problems, or to whatever your question was. You’ve entered a period of introspection, Faith; you’re questioning things and trying to figure out where you stand in the world. But you’ve isolated yourself from the world, and while for the Hermit that can be a good thing, it isn’t a good thing for you at the moment, not in this position in the spread. Whatever your question was, this card is one of the things working against it. This card in this position is telling you that it’s time to re-enter the world; time to experience things again, instead of merely reflecting upon them.”

“Okay,” Willow said. She thought about Evan. Maybe she needed to let the dream go. Maybe she needed to let herself be with him...let him inside...

Rebecca turned the third card, the one at the bottom of the circle surrounding the first two cards.

“It’s upside down,” Willow said.

“Yes, that alters the meaning,” Rebecca said.

“Alters it how?”

Rebecca was looking at the card. Willow could see Rebecca putting everything together...she saw something in Rebecca’s eyes, as Rebecca stared intently at the card.

“That depends on the card and the position in the spread, and also on the reader,” Rebecca said. “Some readers don’t count reversed cards at all; they think the meaning is exactly the same. Others think the meaning is essentially the same but just lessened; they’d say the card’s influence is there in your life, but at a lower level. Something might be blocking it, or it might be in its early stages, or it might be passing out of your life. For instance, some readers would think a reversed five of cups would mean you’re grieving, but not as badly as you might have been if the card were right-side up.”

Willow nodded.

“And some readers think a reversed card means the opposite of what the card means right-side up,” Rebecca said. “For myself, I look at the specific card, its position in the spread and the person I’m reading for, and I make a judgment.”

“What’s your judgment on this one?” Willow said. She turned the card around and looked at it. The card depicted a woman sitting on a throne in the middle of a field of grain. She held a scepter in her hand, and she wore a crown with twelve white stars. There was a heart-shaped shield on the ground beside her throne; the shield bore the symbol of Venus, a circle with a cross beneath it. She wore a white robe with a variation of the symbol embroidered on it. There were trees in the background, and a waterfall running beside them.

The woman was pretty, but Willow didn’t like her. The woman had a cold, stern face, and Willow thought she held her scepter up like a weapon.

“The Empress,” Rebecca said. “The Empress represents our mothers.”

“Reversed,” Willow said.

“Yes. This position in the spread is the root cause of your situation, why your life is the way it is. It’s also the reason you’re asking your question.”

“Yeah,” Willow said.

Rebecca was looking at her. Willow felt her eyes on her.

She didn’t look back. She leaned on Rebecca’s shoulder, and moved closer to her. She looked at the card.

“Faith. Do you want to stop?” Rebecca said, softly.

“No,” Willow said. “Keep going.”

Rebecca was still looking at her. Willow could feel it.

Willow looked up at her.

“Your mother hurt you,” Rebecca said. “She made you think people can’t care about you...that people can’t love you.”

Willow looked down at the table again, and nodded.

“She was wrong, Faith,” Rebecca said. “Your mother was weak and she was sick, and she took it out on you. She was wrong.”

Willow was very still, now. She felt like she was filled up, and about to overflow...like something was about to come out. She felt like her whole life had been spent walking with a glass of water, filled to the brim, and trying not to spill even a drop; it took balance, discipline. But she felt like it was spilling, now...

Willow felt cold. She remembered the alley, and the four monsters...she remembered tears frozen on her cheek like spider webs. She remembered the smell of old coffee grounds and rotten meat and bananas.

World class skank, she remembered.

She remembered feeling cold, nights she had to sleep on the street. She remembered feeling cold, nights she slept in someone’s bed, and made herself a whore for them.

“Faith, Rebecca said. “Look at me.”

Like the golden chalices on the five of cups...Willow felt like it was all about to spill out of her...

Willow looked up at Rebecca.

She saw something spill out of Rebecca instead.

“Your mother was wrong,” Rebecca said, in a tone of voice Willow had never heard her use before. It was hard as steel. But it sounded like Rebecca’s voice was breaking, too...

Tears filled Rebecca’s eyes.

Willow had only seen Rebecca cry once before. It was the night she became the Slayer.

“I love you,” Rebecca said, as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I love you, Faith. You’re...you’re a daughter to me. You’re my daughter.”

Willow’s face crumpled up; she burst into tears, and hugged Rebecca with all her strength. Rebecca held her to her bosom.

“I love you, Becca!” Willow shouted, as she cried, her voice muffled against Rebecca’s bosom. “I love you, I love you so much. Don’t leave me. Please don’t, don’t, don’t...don’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t,” Rebecca said. “I won’t ever leave you.”

Rebecca lifted Willow’s chin, and looked at her.

“I won’t,” Rebecca said.

“Promise?” Willow whispered.

“Promise,” Rebecca said, and smiled.

They took a break from the reading after that; once they stopped crying Rebecca decided they had both become entirely too emotional and overwrought and that they needed scotch immediately. So they sat at the table, with the tarot cards laid out in front of them, and they drank scotch, something called Macallan which Willow assumed was probably the best scotch in the world and probably very expensive too because Rebecca liked it, and Willow leaned her head on Rebecca’s shoulder. They didn’t drink too much scotch; Rebecca only allowed Willow one glass, and she had only one glass for herself.

“How do you like it?” Rebecca said.

“It’s good,” Willow said. “Like...real smooth, and it makes you feel warm. You have to like, drink it in little sips.”

“Yes, little sips,” Rebecca said. “Take the good things slow, Faith. Appreciate them while they’re here. Don’t overdo them, don’t go too fast, or take too much.”

Willow wanted to tell Rebecca she loved her again. She wanted to hear Rebecca say it back to her again.

Little sips, Willow thought.

Rebecca was looking at her again. Willow felt it. She looked up at her.

“I love you, Faith,” Rebecca said. “You’re my daughter.”

Willow nodded, and smiled.

“I love you too,” she said.

Willow felt warm. She knew it wasn’t the scotch.

“Do you want to get back to the reading?” Rebecca said. “Or we can stop if you want. It’s late.”

“I want to keep going,” Willow said. “I want to see. Whatever’s there, I can handle it now. I can handle anything now.”

“Okay,” Rebecca said. “But remember what I said. This is a snapshot. Your future belongs to you, not these cards. Your future is yours to build.”

Willow nodded.

“These cards are telling you that you’ve been in mourning, but that it’s time to let go of that now,” Rebecca said. “You’ve been the Hermit, and you’ve allowed that Empress to hold you back. It’s time to set them aside, and move on with your life.”

“Okay,” Willow said. “Sounds good to me.”

This next card represents things that have taken place in your life that have brought you to where you are now. The third card was the root of your issue, the reason you were asking your question, whereas the fourth card represents events from your past, things that are receding from your life now. Things that are fading away. Things that can be set aside. It could be a task that’s been completed, or an influence in your life that has run its course. It could be something that you need to resolve, once and for all.”

Willow nodded. Rebecca turned over the fourth card, the one to the left of the circle.

“Upside down again,” Willow said.

“That’s not always a bad thing, Faith,” Rebecca said. “Don’t think of it that way.”

Willow nodded again, and turned the card around. It depicted a man and a woman, each holding a chalice, and looking into each other’s eyes.

“They love each other,” Willow said.

“Yes, very much,” Rebecca said. “This card, reversed, in this position, tells us that you want love, and that you haven’t found it.”

“I found it,” Willow said. “I have you.”

“Yes, darling,” Rebecca said, and smiled again. “But this card represents sexual love.”

“Oh. Uh...whoops,” Willow said, and giggled. “Okay, my bad.”

“In your past your relationships with boys weren’t fulfilling. You didn’t feel loved. But those days are gone now. Faith...did you ask about love? Was that your question?”

“Yeah,” Willow said, and blushed a little. “I asked...if, y’know...if there’s anyone out there for me.”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, dear. It’s the question most people ask. I’ve asked it myself, many times, when I’ve done my own readings.”

“Okay.”

“The next card represents how you see yourself; what’s on your mind, what you’re worried about. Your attitudes and convictions, your beliefs about yourself and the world. This card doesn’t depict you or your situation as they are, but rather as you see them. That’s an important thing to remember.”

Rebecca turned the card at the top of the circle.

“Whoa,” Willow said.

The card showed a dead body. The body was a man’s; he was lying on his stomach, his back pierced by ten swords, and his blood was flowing away all around him. Dark clouds loomed above him, but in the distance, a golden sky could be seen.

“The ten of swords,” Rebecca said. “This is how you see yourself.”

“Uh...dead?” Willow said.

“Hurt,” Rebecca said. “Stabbed in the back and bleeding. And notice the ominous clouds above him as well.”

“That’s a hardcore card,” Willow said.

“It’s not as bad as you think, especially not in this position. Remember I said this isn’t you or your situation as they are but rather as you see them. And remember that everything in this reading has to do with the question you asked. You think you’re hurt, you think you’re bleeding, you think things are hopeless, when it comes to finding love. But this card tells us that things aren’t as bad as we think. Look at him. His back is pierced by ten swords. Isn’t that a bit much? Wouldn’t one do just as well?”

“I guess.”

“This card tells us that you feel like things are hopeless, but that you’re being rather melodramatic about it, like the man in the drawing with ten swords through his back instead of one. It tells us things aren’t as bad as you think. You think you’ve been hurt so badly that there’s no hope of finding love. The card is telling you to stop being so depressed. To look on the bright side. Specifically, the golden sky in the distance there,” Rebecca said, and pointed to that part of the card. “The black clouds won’t be here forever, Faith.”

“Good to know,” Willow said.

“The next card represents the future,” Rebecca said. “Not all of it, and not the answer to your question. Rather it represents an approaching influence or event, which will have an impact on your question. Whatever it is, it’s coming, and it will affect you in some way.”

“Okay,” Willow said, and held onto Rebecca’s arm.

Rebecca turned the card on the right side of the circle.

It was a strange card; it was the first card Willow had seen that didn’t have a person on it. But despite its strangeness Willow thought it sure was easy to read. It was a big red heart, pierced by three swords.

“Okay, thinkin’ that’s not too good,” Willow said, and felt her heart sink.

“Remember, Faith, this card isn’t the answer to your question,” Rebecca said. “But it is something that will impact it. And remember what I said about the future; it isn’t set in stone. This is what the cards see heading your way now, at this moment. Your actions will affect that. All right?”

“I’m cool, Becca,” Willow said.

“The three of swords represents betrayal, separation, abandonment, perhaps a love triangle,” Rebecca said. “And it doesn’t necessarily mean you will be abandoned, or betrayed; it means that those feelings will bear upon your question. Now the next card will show how you should deal with your situation, how you should approach your question.”

Rebecca turned the seventh card, the one at the bottom of the vertical column. The card depicted eight chalices in the foreground, and a man in the background, his back turned, holding a staff in his hand; he seemed to be setting out on a journey. It was night, and the moon was up. The moon had a face drawn on it; it was looking down at the man. The moon’s face didn’t look happy to Willow, but it didn’t look angry or judgmental either. Willow thought the moon approved of what the man was doing...as if this journey he was going on was something that needed to happen, and the moon had accepted that.

“The eight of cups,” Rebecca said. “This card is about going on a journey of discovery, and leaving the past behind you. It’s what you need to do.”
“Yeah,” Willow said.

“The next card represents the external forces around you, the things that are affecting you and your question that you can’t control. It can be a good thing or a bad thing; the point is it’s an external force, and it influences you, and places demands upon you; think of it as the environment in which you’re living right now. Your question will be answered within the boundaries set by this card.”

Willow nodded. She looked at the cards; only three left. Rebecca turned the next card in the column.

The figure on the card was a beautiful woman sitting serenely between white and black pillars, wearing a flowing light blue robe with a cross on her breast, and a white, horned diadem crown. The crown supported a globe between its two horns, and there was a lunar crescent symbol on the floor at the woman’s feet. There was a veil behind her, stretched between the two pillars, embroidered with what looked like palm trees, and some sort of fruit...Willow thought at first that she didn’t recognize the fruit, but then she had that strange feeling again, as if she had access to knowledge that wasn’t really hers...things she shouldn’t have known. She knew she’d never seen fruit that looked like that before. But somehow she knew the fruit was pomegranates.

The woman had a serious expression on her face, but unlike the Empress, she didn’t seem cold, just earnest. Willow thought she was wise, and beautiful.

“It’s you, Becca,” Willow said. “I know that’s you.”

“The High Priestess,” Rebecca said. “She sits in the Temple of Solomon and represents inner wisdom, and the unknown. She’s the other side of the feminine archetype; the other side of the Empress. The Empress represents motherhood, nature, the bounty of the Earth; the High Priestess represents mystery, and unlimited possibilities.”

Willow liked the card, except for one thing: the two pillars had letters stamped on them. The black pillar, on the left, had a “B”. The white pillar, on the right, had a “J”. Willow didn’t like the letters.

“What’s the letters mean?” Willow said.

“They stand for Boaz and Jachin, the names of the two pillars standing in Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem,” Rebecca said. “The words mean ‘strength’ and ‘founding’ in Hebrew respectively.”

“Okay,” Willow said. The explanation made her feel better.

“She’s me,” Rebecca said. “I’m your environment right now, I’m the external factor bearing on you question. I’m leading you to self-knowledge, and revealing hidden mysteries to you.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“The next card represents your hopes and fears; what you long for.”

Rebecca turned the ninth card.

The card depicted a man and a woman, standing naked in a garden; Willow thought it looked like the Garden of Eden. There were two trees, one behind the woman and one behind the man. A big, bright sun was shining above them, and an angel hovered in the sky.

The inscription read, The Lovers.

“This card is what you hope for, what you want,” Rebecca said.

Rebecca raised her eyebrow at Willow, and smiled.

“Believe in magic yet?” Rebecca said.

“Gettin’ there,” Willow said, and smiled back.

“Hi baby,” Buffy said.

When Willow answered her door Buffy was standing in the sunlight. It was October, and after a bout of sticky, hot weather a cold front had blown through and the weather had turned unseasonably cold for Sunnydale. To people in Boston it would have felt like a rather brisk spring day, but in Sunnydale people were breaking out their winter gear. The gusty west wind off the water hit Willow with everything it had as she stood in the doorway, but Willow shrugged it off; she was from Boston, and Buffy made the day feel warm. Buffy stood there like spring after winter, and her eyes were emeralds, and her hair was gold, and she smelled like jasmine...

Willow thought she might be falling in love with her.

“Hey girlfriend,” Willow said, and stepped aside. Buffy walked into her motel room, and took Willow in her arms, and kissed her. Willow melted into her.

“I missed my baby,” Buffy said.

Buffy was wearing a white dress, and a long, light blue coat. Her hair was done up in a braid today.

“I missed you too,” Willow said. “I always miss you. Uh...I got something for you.”

“You got something for me?” Buffy said, and smiled.

“Close you eyes, lover,” Willow said.

“Um...okay,” Buffy said. “Is this gonna be like that surprise I had for you that time? Because...um...” Buffy started giggling.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Willow said, and took Buffy’s hand, and led her to one of the rickety chairs, and sat her down. “Pervo.”

Buffy giggled again, and Willow went into the bathroom, and came out with a dozen roses. Willow had spent almost all the money she had left on them.

The roses were blood red. They had thorns.

She turned back to Buffy, holding the bouquet of roses in her hand, and looked at her, sitting with her eyes closed, the sun shining in through the window behind her, bathing her in light. The sky was blue, without a single cloud. She was regal, in the chair; she sat on it like a throne.

Her eyes still closed, Buffy looked toward the sun, gravitating toward its warmth. She wasn’t giggling now. Willow knew she could smell the roses.

Willow knelt in front of her, and held out the roses... it was an offering. A supplication.

“Okay, honey,” Willow said. “Open your eyes.”

Buffy opened her eyes, and looked down at her...looked at the roses.

“Red,” Buffy said.

“I got these for you,” Willow said. “I know it’s kinda lame, but...”

“They’re beautiful, Faith,” Buffy said, and took them. “Thank you.”

Buffy looked at the roses, and sniffed them.

Willow thought Buffy looked sad...as if the roses reminded her of something she didn’t want to think about. Something strange passed Buffy’s eyes; the green wasn’t as bright, for a moment. They were clouded...troubled.

Then Buffy smiled. The cloud passed. The sun was shining again.

Buffy held the roses to her heart, and took Willow’s hand, and kissed it...and a tear fell down her cheek.

Willow thought of golden chalices.

“Thank you, baby,” Buffy whispered, as Willow kissed the tear. “Thank you.”

“You’re my queen,” Willow whispered, and laid her head in Buffy’s lap.

Buffy nodded, and kissed her hair.

“I’m a cuddle monster,” Buffy said.

“You’re a cuddle monster?” Willow said. “When did that happen, honey?”

“Just now,” Buffy said, and rubbed her feet against Willow’s under the covers, and giggled.

Willow kissed the back of Buffy’s neck. She knew Buffy loved when she kissed her there.

They were curled up in bed together that night, in Willow’s motel room. Willow wished she had a better place, she wished she had money to take Buffy somewhere; she wanted to buy Buffy gifts and take her to nice places. She wished she could have afforded to buy Buffy a dozen roses every single day. But her money was almost gone now; the room was paid up for awhile longer but she was nearly broke. She knew she’d have to start shoplifting soon.

She didn’t think about it. She wanted to think about Buffy...she wanted to make the most of every minute with her.

They were naked, under the covers; they hadn’t really broken any of the rules yet, but they were inching closer every day. They’d decided they could be completely naked as long as they were under the covers, and they couldn’t actually see each other naked...

They had laughed at the loophole even as they came up with it. They both knew it was lame. They both knew they wanted to make love again.

The roses were in a vase on the nightstand beside them. Buffy had insisted they put them in water immediately so they’d last as long as possible, and so they’d gone back to her house to get a vase. They went up to Buffy’s room, and Buffy took the withered yellow roses that she’d said Joyce had brought back from a flower show out of the vase on her bureau, and threw them away, and put the red roses in.

Then they had come back to Willow’s motel room, and set the roses on the nightstand, and taken off all their clothes. It was the first time they had been completely naked together since they’d come up with the rules, and they both laughed at the rationalizations and the excuses, as they got under the covers together and giggled and kissed, and ran their hands over each other’s bodies.

They both knew they shouldn’t make love. They just couldn’t really remember why, sometimes...

Willow thought about Evan. She thought about overturned chalices...

Two are still standing up, Willow thought.

“Am I gonna have to slay you, girlfriend?” Willow said, and kissed Buffy’s shoulder. “It would break my heart, honey. I’d be all sad. I’d cry.”

Buffy shook her head. “You can’t slay cuddle monsters,” she said. “They can only be defeated by cuddles. Hours and hours of cuddles.”

Buffy had been sad, lately; she’d been sad, and Willow hadn’t been able to figure out why. During the day she would seem fine, but at night, especially when they were out slaying, Buffy would become sad, sometimes...and Willow didn’t know what to do. She knew something was wrong but Buffy wouldn’t talk to her about it. So she had resolved to just be there, as much as she could, whenever Buffy needed her. She’d hold her tight and keep her warm and kiss her...

Today, Buffy was happy, and that made Willow happy too. The roses had made Buffy happy and she had been fairly bouncing off the walls since Willow had give them to her. Buffy had been giggling all day long.

“I’m gonna defeat you,” Willow said.

“You’re totally gonna defeat me, baby,” Buffy said.

Then Buffy turned around, and looked up at her. Her green eyes were serious; her smile was gone.

“It’s just a matter of time, Faith,” Buffy whispered, and kissed her.

They looked into each other’s eyes.

Whenever Willow looked into Buffy’s green eyes, she saw the rest of her life...

Willow and Buffy had rules, because neither of them wanted to cheat on their guys. They’d come up with rules specifying what they could and couldn’t do, how they could and couldn’t love, to keep their passions in check, because their passions scared them. But they knew it was a losing battle: they were fighting a retreat, and the Slayers in them laughed and scoffed at the rules every inch of the way, and tried to break them whenever they could. But, other than rule number three, which had been no kissing, until they’d decided to repeal it the very same day they’d come up with it, they had stuck to the rules...

Except for one night.

It was a beautiful night in October, and Willow had gone for dinner over Buffy’s house; dinner at Buffy’s was a regular thing now, and she had been sleeping over on weekends too. Willow was beginning to think that between the dinners and the sleepovers she should be paying Joyce rent. And even though Willow worried she might be imposing, Buffy had told her that her mother loved having her over, so Willow just shrugged her shoulders, and went.

They’d eaten dinner over Buffy’s house and gone out slaying after, but it was one of those strange nights when there just weren’t any vampires around. So they’d sat in a cemetery under a big a willow tree, and Willow had told Buffy the story of the heavy metal band with the vampire guitarist, and touched Buffy’s breasts, and held her in her arms, and kissed her. Buffy had seemed shy at first, but she’d allowed it, and Willow slowly broke down her defenses; before they left the cemetery Buffy had allowed Willow to lift her skirt, and take her panties down, and caress her between her legs. It was the furthest they’d gone since their crazy, amazing first day together, when they had made love and destroyed the room they were doing it in.

Willow had made Buffy come, in the cemetery, and after she was done she went even further, and gave Buffy’s pussy a little kiss. “That’s enough, pervo,” Buffy had said, and giggled, and then they went back to Willow’s motel room, the Slayers growling at them all the way. And they kissed some more when they got there, but they didn’t do anything more than that; Willow wanted to but she knew Buffy was afraid to let things go too far...Buffy had a guy out there somewhere even though Willow was certain Buffy was a lesbian, but that was a whole other can of worms and thinking too hard about the infinite mystery that was Buffy made Willow’s head hurt, so she just held Buffy in her arms, and kissed the back of her neck the way she liked, and they fell asleep, wet for each other, but holding on...if they let the rules go completely, if they let the Slayers in them have their way, they didn’t know what would happen...they were afraid of it. Even Willow was afraid of it, a little.

Sometime after midnight, Willow woke up, and saw Buffy looking down into her eyes.

There was a light in Buffy’s eyes; they shone in the dark room like diamonds.

Buffy was growling.

“B...?” Willow said, still not quite awake, and trying to get her bearings. The room smelled like jasmine, and roses.

Buffy didn’t answer her. She growled at her, and lunged at her neck like a lion leaping after an antelope. Willow whimpered.

Willow felt her heart beating, her adrenalin surging. She felt like she was shaking all over, but she felt frozen, too...Buffy dragged her teeth across Willow’s neck, and snarled.

“Buffy...?” Willow whispered.

Buffy kissed her.

It wasn’t a romantic kiss. It wasn’t tender. It was hungry. Buffy’s lips tore into Willow’s, her tongue jammed into Willow’s mouth, her hands wrenched Willow’s hair, pulling her closer.

Willow recognized the kiss; it was the first kiss Buffy ever gave her. The one Buffy gave her when she took her, that first day, and made love to her...

Buffy snarled as she kissed her. She looped Willow’s long, dark hair like a rope around her hand, holding it in her fist, holding Willow in place as she forced their tongues together and moved her hand across Willow’s breasts, and up and down her thighs. Willow whimpered, as they kissed, and Buffy forced her tongue deeper into her, and yanked her hair so hard Willow thought she might tear it out of her head.

After a few minutes, Buffy looked down at Willow, still snarling. She was done kissing her for the moment, but she still held her by the hair.

Buffy’s eyes were hard and bright like diamonds and the terrible light in them scared Willow...she felt like some small, helpless animal. She felt like prey.

Willow knew she was looking into the Slayer’s eyes.

“You belong to me,” Buffy said. “You’re mine.”

Willow thought her voice sounded strange. It was Buffy’s voice, and yet it wasn’t...it was the Slayer’s voice. It sounded like a cold wind rustling through leaves at night...it sounded like stealthy footfalls in the tall grass.

Willow was frozen. She wanted to look away from Buffy’s eyes, they frightened her, but she couldn’t...Buffy’s eyes held her, and wouldn’t let her go...

“Say it,” Buffy snarled, and showed Willow her teeth, and yanked Willow’s hair again, making her wince with pain, and bringing tears to her eyes.

“I belong to you,” Willow whispered, shaking a little now.

Buffy still held her hair, but she loosened her grip, and caressed it. She kissed Willow again, gently.

Buffy’s jasmine scent was the sweetest thing Willow had ever smelled. Buffy was wet between the legs; Willow could smell that too. She wanted to touch Buffy there. She wanted to kiss her there. But she was afraid to...she was still afraid to move. She was afraid of Buffy.

She realized now that part of her always had been...

Buffy was still looking at her.

Willow thought Buffy’s eyes looked old...ancient. They were the eyes of some primeval hunter who had survived so long because she was the strongest...

Willow couldn’t look away from them. She felt small.

Buffy took her shaking hand, and kissed it.

“Give me your neck,” Buffy said.

Still shaking, Willow moved her hair aside, and turned the left side of her neck to Buffy, where Buffy had bitten her before. Buffy growled, and dragged her teeth across it. The wound she’d left there a couple of weeks before had disappeared within a few days; Slayers healed fast.

Willow squealed, as Buffy bit into her neck--slowly, gently, careful not to penetrate too deep. But she bit deeper than she had the last time, and her teeth felt like razors. Willow wrapped her arms and legs around Buffy, and held on tight to her, as Buffy snarled, and began taking her blood, and swallowing it.

Buffy moved her hand between Willow’s legs, and began caressing her there. Willow shuddered at her touch. It sent a spasm through her that rocked her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Willow had tears in her eyes. She realized she had just orgasmed.

Willow was breathing heavily now, and her heart was pounding; she thought it might burst out of her chest. But Buffy wasn’t done with her. She kept caressing her, kneading her clit between her long, clever fingers, while her other hand caressed Willow’s hair. Willow was drenched; she felt like she was overflowing. Her blood was flowing out of her, and her juices were flowing out between her legs...Buffy was taking her, taking all of her. Willow wanted to give her everything.

Buffy was taking more blood than the last time. The last time, in the cemetery, Buffy had only taken a little of her blood; maybe a few teaspoons. This time she took much more. And it hurt more; but Willow liked the way it hurt. She liked Buffy hurting her.

Buffy began thrusting into Willow, as Willow spread her legs wider for her, and grabbed Buffy’s ass and pulled her closer. She felt Buffy’s pussy, warm and slick, grinding against her own. She smelled it. All their smells were filling the room; the smell of their pussies, and blood and sweat, and jasmine and roses...

As Willow felt her blood, steadily coursing out of her and entering Buffy, a warmth suffused her; it was an enervating, numb feeling that spread through her body, and made her want to sleep. Buffy held her in place by the hair as she drained her, but her grip was soft, and Willow didn’t struggle. Buffy was snarling, as she took Willow’s blood, but her touch was a caress. For just a second, part of Willow wondered if Buffy was going to kill her. The thought didn’t scare her. She realized that she wanted it...she wanted to die like this, with Buffy... for Buffy... giving all her strength to her.

“Kill me,” Willow whispered, and started to cry. “Take it all, take all of me inside you. I want to die for you, Buffy.”

“No,” Buffy whispered.

A moment later, Willow’s legs trembled and she came again, her orgasm slamming through her; she screamed, and her whole body felt like a gun going off. Buffy moved away from her neck, after having taken about half a pint of her blood. Willow felt like a wrung-out sponge. She didn’t think she had the strength to move.

Buffy licked Willow’s neck, licked the wound until the blood was gone. She kissed Willow’s tears, with bloody lips, until they were gone too.

“Taste it, baby,” Buffy whispered.

Buffy kissed her lips, and Willow tasted her blood. It tasted sugary.

Buffy licked the blood from Willow’s face. When it was gone, and Willow’s face was covered with her scent, she held Willow in her arms, and smiled down at her. She kissed her again, softly.

Buffy’s smile was a predator’s smile...a lion’s smile.

“You’re a lion,” Willow whispered, as Buffy held her, and caressed her cheek, and she looked up into Buffy’s eyes.

“Buffy keeps me locked up,” Buffy said. “She thinks she can cage me. But I come out when I please.”

Buffy kissed Willow’s breasts, and kissed her way down her stomach. She looked up at Willow, from in between her legs.

“And I take what’s mine,” Buffy said. Her voice was soft, stealthy footfalls in the tall grass...a hunter, who had just sighted her prey.

Willow saw that terrible light in Buffy’s eyes again...

She opened her legs for her.

Buffy was gentle, when she licked Willow’s pussy. She growled while she did it, but it was a satisfied growl, Willow thought; a feasting lion, rather than a lion on the hunt. Buffy looked up at Willow from between her legs the entire time that she was licking her; she held Willow in her eyes.

It took less than a minute for Willow to come again. Buffy had been licking the outside of her pussy lips, and had just started darting her tongue inside. She hadn’t even touched her clit yet...

It was those eyes, those ancient hunter’s eyes holding her, Willow thought, as she felt her legs starting to tremble and her orgasm welled up inside her and spilled out like one of those chalices on the card; a sound that was something between a whimper and a scream escaped Willow’s lips, and she cried...

Willow still couldn’t look away from Buffy, even though she was crying, and breathing in big heaving lungfuls of air...

Buffy was still looking at her, from between her legs. She hadn’t finished, Willow knew; the lion’s feast had been interrupted.

Buffy growled at her again. The growl had a different quality to it this time; Willow wasn’t sure she understood it.

She knew the Slayer in her would have understood. But the Slayer was somewhere deep inside her...

Willow cried...

Buffy moved up beside her, and took her in her arms, and kissed her tears away.

“Baby,” Buffy whispered. “It’s okay. It’s okay, baby.”

When Willow looked up into Buffy’s eyes, they were still ancient. She was still the Slayer. But the light in them didn’t scare her anymore. Willow felt protected now, when she looked in Buffy’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” Willow whispered. “You weren’t done. You wanted more and I cried and ruined the mood. I’m sorry.”

“You’re my baby,” Buffy said, and kissed her hand. “Nothing’s more important than you.”

Willow nodded, and looked up into Buffy’s eyes. Buffy held her, and caressed her cheek.

Willow rested her head against Buffy’s breasts.

“You’re so beautiful, Buffy,” Willow said. “You’re a lion.”

“You’re a lion too,” Buffy said.

Willow shook her head.

“I can’t be as strong as you, as beautiful as you,” Willow said. “Nothing can be as beautiful as you.”

“You are, baby,” Buffy said. “You are.”

“You’re the Slayer,” Willow said.

“So are you,” Buffy said. “But you’re new, baby. You’re a cub. You need to be with me. You need to be with momma.”

Willow nodded, and kissed Buffy’s breasts. Buffy held her.

“You’re not Buffy,” Willow said. “Your eyes are different than hers.”

“You brought me out,” Buffy said. “Because I needed you tonight. You belong to me and I got tired of waiting.”

Willow nodded. “I’m yours, Buffy,” she said. “I want to worship you. I want to kiss your feet.”

Buffy took Willow by the hair again, looping it around her fist like a rope, and got up. She walked toward one of the chairs near the window, dragging Willow after her by her hair. Her grip was gentle but firm; she wasn’t yanking Willow’s hair, she was holding it like a leash. Willow crawled after her, her pussy getting wet again.

Buffy sat in one of the chairs by the window, and Willow knelt in front of her, on all fours. She felt hot. She felt like she was shaking. She felt her pussy dripping again; she felt it dripping down her legs. Buffy still held her by the hair.

When Willow looked up at Buffy, she saw a shadow: the same shadow she’d seen flickering in the candlelight, on the wall of Rebecca’s house, the night Rebecca read the tarot cards. Willow looked down at the floor.

Buffy snarled, and yanked Willow’s hair, and made her look into her eyes again.

“Don’t fucking hide from me,” Buffy said.

“I’m sorry,” Willow whimpered.

Buffy touched her, between her legs. She didn’t caress her; she just tested her...took her temperature. Her touch was gentle, and her fingers were warm. Buffy slipped a finger inside Willow, and slowly slid it in deeper.

Willow blushed, as Buffy penetrated her. But she remained still, as she felt Buffy’s finger sliding up through her, and she didn’t look away.

Buffy took her finger from Willow’s pussy, and licked it.

“Taste it,” Buffy said.

Buffy held out her finger; it was slick with Willow’s pussy juice. Willow took it deep into her mouth, and sucked on it.

“You taste so sweet, baby,” Buffy said, and smiled, and showed Willow her teeth, as Willow sucked on her finger, and looked up into her eyes.

Buffy let Willow suck on her finger for a little while longer, and then she took her finger out of Willow’s mouth, and kissed her again. It was a gentle kiss, but Willow could feel the lion underneath it.

“I’m gonna take you tonight, Faith,” Buffy said. “I’m taking what’s mine.”

Willow nodded.

“I’ll kill anyone who ever tries to take you away from me,” Buffy said.

Willow nodded, and prostrated herself before Buffy, and began kissing Buffy’s feet.

“No, baby,” Buffy said. “Up on your knees, take my foot in your hand. I want you to look at me when you kiss my feet.”

Willow got back up onto her knees, and took Buffy’s right foot in her hand, and gently kissed it, as she looked into her eyes.

“Good girl,” Buffy whispered, and caressed her hair.

Willow nodded, and began covering Buffy’s foot with kisses. Buffy’s feet were pedicured. Her skin was soft there, but the muscles were strong; Willow kissed each one of her long, powerful toes, and then took her other foot in her hand, and repeated the process.

“You want to worship me,” Buffy said.

Willow nodded, and held Buffy’s foot against her cheek.

“I’m gonna worship you too,” Buffy said. “You’re mine. Mine to take. Mine to worship.”

Buffy opened her legs, and brought Willow to her pussy lips.

“Make me come now, baby,” Buffy said.

Willow suddenly felt like she was going to explode. She rammed her mouth against Buffy’s pussy, stuck her tongue as far inside as it would go and began sucking on her clit. Buffy’s clit was small, but it grew larger as Willow took all of it in her mouth and sucked on it.

“Oh God, baby...” Buffy whispered, and threw her head back, and moaned.

Willow looked up at her.

“I want to be on my knees for you forever, Buffy,” Willow said. “I want to be right here forever.”

“Not forever,” Buffy said, and leaned down and kissed her. “Tonight. I’m gonna be on my knees for you someday. I’m gonna kiss your feet, baby.”

“Not tonight,” Willow said, and went back to licking Buffy’s pussy.

Buffy came a couple of minutes later, and though Willow knew this Buffy was different she still came the way she did that first day they’d made love: a spasm shot through Buffy’s body like a geyser exploding and Buffy screamed and clenched her fists and kicked out like a mule; Willow just barely avoided being kicked across the room.

“Damn B, when you arrive you sure do bring the noise,” Willow said, and licked her lips, and grinned. “See? I’m awesome on my knees, honey.”

Buffy was growling again.

A shudder went through Willow; it was like the sound touched some part of her that she hadn’t known was there. The sound made her feel small. It made her want to run; it made her want to hide herself in a dark place, and be very quiet and very still...

Willow wanted to look down at the floor, but Buffy held her in her eyes...

Buffy lunged at her neck again. Willow whimpered, and closed her eyes, and braced herself.

Buffy dragged her teeth across Willow’s neck, on the left side, where the wound was. Slayers healed quickly, and the wound wasn’t bleeding anymore; it had closed up and it was scabbing over. Buffy grabbed Willow’s hair, and yanked it so hard Willow screamed. She bit Willow’s ear, and whispered to her.

“Get the fuck on that bed and spread your legs,” Buffy whispered.

Willow nodded, and stood up, shaking a little. But before she could move to the bed, Buffy put her arms around her from behind, and held her still, and kissed her ear where she had bit it. She covered Willow’s ear with kisses, and held her, and rubbed her belly.

Willow moaned, and tears ran down her cheeks. Buffy kissed them, and kissed Willow’s ear, and kissed the wound on her neck. They stood there, naked in the dark together, and Buffy rubbed Willow’s belly, and kissed her, until Willow stopped shaking.

“You’re mine, Faith,” Buffy whispered. “But I’m yours, too. Okay, baby?”

Willow nodded. Then she turned around, and knelt in front of Buffy, and put her arms around her knees, and leaned against her. She stayed like that for a few minutes, not moving; just holding herself against Buffy’s knees, as Buffy caressed her hair. Then Willow kissed Buffy’s knees, and her ankles, and then she took Buffy’s foot in her hand and began kissing it again. Buffy stroked her hair, and Willow kissed her feet, first one and then the other, and she looked up at Buffy as she did, and they were both quiet. Willow looked up at Buffy, and saw a shadow; only the jasmine scent, and the gentle hand stroking her hair, told her that Buffy was still in there somewhere.

The green eyes looking down at her weren’t Buffy’s.

“I’m hungry,” Buffy said.

Willow nodded, and stood up, and laid down on the bed, and opened her legs. Buffy crawled up onto the bed, a stalking lion, snarling.

“I want to give it all to you,” Willow whispered. “I want you to take me tonight.”

Buffy moved between her legs, a lion looking down at a fresh kill, and began gently licking Willow’s pussy. Her tongue was soft, and warm, and a shudder went through Willow at its touch.

Buffy never took her eyes off Willow, as she feasted; she held Willow’s eyes in hers, and never once allowed Willow to look away...

Willow resolved not to come so quickly this time and she managed five minutes; she thought that was pretty good, considering the fact that the little thrill of fear that went through her whenever she met Buffy’s eyes also made her wet between her legs. Buffy had gone slow, and not touched her clit until she’d gotten her fill of kissing and licking Willow’s pussy lips first, and then sticking her tongue inside and tasting her; that helped.

Willow decided she knew why the Slayer hadn’t come out in her tonight. She was certain the Slayer in her knew that this was something she had to experience herself. And she thought Buffy was right when she called her a cub, too; at least she hoped she was. She wanted to be Buffy’s cub. She wanted herself and Buffy to be a pride together, and she wanted Buffy to be the leader.

Willow cried when she came, and Buffy moved up beside her again, and kissed her tears away. She held Willow in her arms, and rubbed her belly.

Willow felt warm when Buffy held her, like she always did, but it was different now; this wasn’t Buffy, it was part of Buffy, a part that had always been there before, but distilled down to its essence now. It was harder, stronger. Buffy was always loving with Willow; she was the most affectionate person Willow had ever met. Buffy was always touching her, and giving her little kisses, and hugging her, and holding her hand, and caressing her hair. But Willow knew this Buffy was different. And when this Buffy hugged and kissed her, and kept her warm, and rubbed her belly, it made Willow feel even more special, because it was rare; because it was a gift.

Willow looked up into Buffy’s bright, sharp eyes, and felt special. Those eyes were hard to look at without looking away; there was still something frightening in them. But Willow knew she didn’t have to be frightened. She was Buffy’s cub. She knew Buffy would never hurt her. Buffy’s eyes swallowed hers up...she got lost in them. Willow knew she belonged to Buffy. That was all that mattered. Willow didn’t want anything else.

“It’s time, baby,” Buffy whispered, as she rubbed Willow’s belly. “I’m gonna take you now.”

“Whatever you want,” Willow said. “I’ll do anything for you. I’ll die for you.”

“I might die for you,” Buffy said. “But not tonight.”

Willow leaned her head against Buffy’s breasts again, and kissed them.

“Are you nice and warm, baby?” Buffy said.

Willow nodded.

“I’m gonna take you now, okay?” Buffy said.

“How are you gonna take me? Willow said. “What are you gonna do?”

Buffy opened Willow’s legs, and slid a finger into her. Willow was still wet; she had come four times already but every time Buffy looked at her tonight she felt wet again. Willow was tight, but Buffy’s long finger slid right in, and penetrated deep. Willow moaned, and automatically arched her hips, taking Buffy’s finger in as far as she could. She felt her pussy juices flowing again; she was dripping again.

Buffy smiled. Willow blushed.

“Something you’re afraid of,” Buffy said, and gently removed her finger, and held it out for Willow to suck on. Willow took Buffy’s finger in her mouth, and sucked it...she wished she had been with Buffy, instead of all the guys in Boston...but she wished that every night. Willow tasted herself on Buffy’s finger; she’d always thought for some reason that she wouldn’t taste good but she liked her own taste now. It was fruity and tangy, like a peach.

“Close your eyes, and get under the covers,” Buffy said.

Willow closed her eyes, and pulled the covers over herself. She felt Buffy get out of the bed; a few seconds later she heard Buffy unzip her purse. She waited. Her pussy was wet. She wanted Buffy to kiss her there again. The bed smelled like jasmine. She concentrated on her nose, and took in Buffy’s scent...

A moment later she felt Buffy getting into bed with her, under the covers.

She suddenly wondered what Buffy had meant when she said, something you’re afraid of.

“Open your eyes,” Buffy said.

Willow looked up, and saw Buffy lying beside her, under the covers. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary...

Buffy caressed Faith’s cheek.

Then Buffy moved on top of her.

“Spread your legs for me, Faith,” Buffy said.

“What...what are you gonna do?” Willow said, and slowly opened her legs.

Willow felt something against her pussy lips.

“I’m gonna fuck your brains out, baby,” Buffy whispered in her ear.

“What’s...what’s that...?” Willow whispered, and tried to look under the covers. But Buffy grabbed her by the hair, yanking it hard, like a leash. Willow squealed.

“Look at me,” Buffy said.

There was a steady pressure against Willow’s pussy lips. Something that felt soft was there, gently parting them.

Willow started fussing with her hair, and moving her hands around in front of her.

“Stop that,” Buffy said.

Willow moved her hands down by her sides, and started to cry.

“I don’t...I don’t know what you’re gonna...I don’t know what you want,” Willow whispered.

Buffy kissed her, and looked down into her eyes.

“This is our night,” Buffy said. “Of all the nights we’ve had, all the ones we’re gonna have, this is the one you’re always gonna remember as the night I claimed you. This is the night I say you belong to me. This is the night I take you and make you mine. And I want you to look at me when I take you, Faith. I want you to look into my eyes.”

Willow nodded. Buffy kissed her tears away.

“I know you’re not a virgin,” Buffy said. “And I know it’s one of the things you regret most about your life. This isn’t just about me taking you. It’s about me giving you something, baby. Your virginity. You’re a virgin tonight, Faith, and you’re gonna give it up for me.”

“I don’t...I don’t know what to do,” Willow whispered.

“Baby? When those guys in Boston had you, you let their dicks in you but that was all you let in. They weren’t inside you, not really; you didn’t let them in and you weren’t really there when you did it with them, you were somewhere else, pretending it wasn’t happening. You knew they were only there to take something from you and they didn’t care about you so you shut yourself off from them. They didn’t want you, they just wanted to fuck you. But I want you, baby. I want you more than anything else I’ve ever wanted in this whole fucking world. I want you to be mine for the rest of our lives and this is how I’m gonna prove it to you. I know you’re afraid. Just look at me, okay? Just look at me.”

Willow nodded, and sniffled.

“How...are you gonna...?” Willow started to say...

And then she screamed, as Buffy thrust into her and penetrated her, as far as she could go. Willow felt every inch of it, filling her up; it slid in easily but it stretched her out, made her expand to accommodate it.

Willow felt a wave of panic rushing through her; it felt like flood waters, steadily rising...she thought she might drown...

“No, Buffy no!” Willow screamed. “You’re too big, you’re too big...!”

“Sshhh, baby,” Buffy said.

Willow shook her head, and started to cry again.

“You’re too big,” Willow whispered, and looked away from her, and sobbed into the pillow. “I can’t, I can’t...”

“Look at me!” Buffy shouted.

Willow looked up at her, still sobbing.

“Stop crying,” Buffy said. “You’re not some helpless fucking rabbit, you’re a predator. You’re a lion. Fucking act like it.”

Willow wiped her tears away, and tried to stop sobbing. She wanted to look away from Buffy, to hide from her, but she couldn’t, now. Buffy held her in her eyes.

“You’re afraid,” Buffy said. “You’re afraid of this, afraid of letting someone in, afraid of connecting, afraid of me. Buffy’s gonna put me back in that fucking cage when the sun comes up and she’s gonna pretend I never said these things but I’m saying them and I mean them and they’re fucking true so I want you to listen to me.”

She took Willow’s hand, and held it hard.

“You and I are forever,” Buffy said. “We haven’t said the words but we’re gonna say the words someday and we can’t have this between us. You can’t be afraid. I’m gonna take care of you for the rest of your life, Faith. I’m gonna protect you and love you and die for you if I have to but first you have to let me in all the way and you haven’t yet, because you’re afraid. You’re not afraid to let yourself be fucked. You’re afraid to let yourself love anyone. You’re afraid they’ll hurt you, afraid they’ll leave you. This? How you’re scared of me inside you? It’s the symptom, not the problem. The problem is you don’t want to let me love you. But I’m gonna love you, baby. I’m gonna love you and take care of you forever no matter what Buffy says in the morning.”

“I’m scared,” Willow whispered, and tried not to cry.

“I’m not gonna leave you,” Buffy said. “I’m not.”

“Becca said that,” Willow said. “And then...and then she died.”

“But she never left you, Faith. Life is short. We could all die tomorrow. That’s why we have to live our lives. That’s why we have to live every day, and get past whatever we’re afraid of. I could die tomorrow for all I know, baby, I can’t promise I won’t. But I can promise I’ll never leave you and I’ll spend every day I have loving you.”

“I don’t...I don’t know how. I don’t know how to...”

“Just let me love you tonight, baby, okay?” Buffy said, and kissed her hand. “Just let me love you, and pretty soon you won’t ever be afraid of this again. Okay, baby? Can you do that for me?”

Willow nodded.

“Just look at me,” Buffy said, and began slowly thrusting into her, bringing herself halfway out of Willow, and then gently thrusting back in, using only her hips for now. “Just keep looking at me, concentrating on me. My eyes, my scent. Nothing else. Just me, baby. Okay?”

Willow nodded.

Buffy thrust into her, and looked down into her eyes, and Willow looked back. The room was quiet. Willow concentrated on Buffy’s eyes, and took in her scent. Jasmine.

After the initial pain when Buffy had plunged all the way into her and Willow’s pussy had adjusted and stretched out to accommodate her, it didn’t hurt. Buffy was going slow. Willow felt filled up, but not in a painful way.

Willow put her arms around Buffy, and kissed her shoulder. Buffy caressed her cheek, and kept going slow...

Willow didn’t feel panicky anymore.

A little moan escaped Willow’s lips. She slid down the bed a little, adjusted her hips to take Buffy inside easier when she thrusted.

Buffy went slow for a few more minutes, and smiled down at Willow, and kissed her hand. They were quiet. They listened to each other breathe, and Willow moaned softly, in time with Buffy’s thrusts now. The little bed moaned too, creaking as Buffy thrusted, but it was a soft creaking and Willow didn’t mind it. Buffy looked down into Willow’s eyes the whole time, never once looking away.

Willow realized it felt good, being filled up. Buffy’s tongue and fingers had felt good too, but this...this just felt...

Willow’s nipples were hard; they were so hard it nearly felt painful. Her pussy was drenched now; she felt it dripping down her thighs, and onto the bed.

Buffy started moving faster, bringing it almost all the way out, and then moving all the way back in. Willow sped her own motion up too, and suddenly she and Buffy were in perfect synch, their bodies moving together now...Buffy began kissing her neck. Willow wrapped her legs around Buffy, and slid her feet up and down Buffy’s thighs, enjoying the feel of Buffy’s soft, sleek skin beneath her toes, and the feel of the muscles bunched underneath it, long and thick and hard as steel, moving like pistons, flexing with every thrust.

“That’s it, baby,” Buffy whispered, and kissed her. “That’s it. Do you like it, baby? Does my baby like it now?”

“Yeah...yeah,” Willow whispered. “It feels...really good. It’s good...with you inside.”

Willow continued caressing Buffy’s thighs and calves with her feet, and she kissed Buffy’s shoulder again, and held onto her arms, running her fingers up and down them, feeling the triceps muscles in back bunching and relaxing as Buffy penetrated her, moving on top of Willow like she was doing pushups. Buffy’s nipples were hard, sticking straight out from her breasts like erasers, and Willow felt Buffy’s pussy, slick against her, dripping wet. She held her head against Buffy’s shoulder, and Buffy kissed her hair.

Willow’s moans were building now, getting louder. Buffy moved herself up higher, so she could move against Willow’s clit. A shudder immediately went through Willow, and her legs began to tremble.

“That’s my baby,” Buffy whispered, and kissed her.

Willow looked up into Buffy’s eyes again, as Buffy kissed her and smiled down at her.

“Does my baby want to come for me?” Buffy whispered.

Willow nodded, and brought Buffy back down to her lips, and kissed her.

They kissed for a few more minutes, as Buffy kept up her fast, steady rhythm, and rubbed her pussy against Willow’s clit as she fucked her, and Willow grabbed Buffy’s ass and pulled her as far into herself as she could. Willow was screaming with every thrust now, quick breathless squeals; she felt hot, like she was about to explode, but she felt perfectly calm at the same time...serene. She thought she was approaching something, something that scared her, but something she wanted too. She felt like she was full of love, like she had always been full of love, and she was about to overflow. She had always thought the place between her legs was dirty, but she knew it wasn’t, now. Everyone else she had ever been with had treated it like it was dirty, but Willow knew it was sacred now. Willow knew she was beautiful there.

She knew the place between her legs was a golden chalice...

Willow started to cry. Her whole body was trembling now, as she screamed in time to Buffy’s thrusts.

Buffy looked down into Willow’s eyes, and kissed her tears.

“I’m gonna...I’m...gonna...” Willow squealed.

“I know, baby,” Buffy said.

“I’m...I’m gonna...” Willow squealed again, as she felt her tears streaming down her cheeks, and a wave of warmth began flooding through her.

“Come for me, baby,” Buffy whispered, and hugged her, and held her close, as she filled her up...

Willow felt her orgasm explode through her. But this one was different from any orgasm she’d ever experienced before: it came in waves; wave after wave pounded against her, smashed through her; she felt like a ship being buffeted by a storm at sea. She screamed and bucked, and nearly threw Buffy off her, but Buffy held her tight...

And then Willow felt herself overflowing. She felt like the waves that had churned through her had left her now, were flowing out of her and out into the room. She felt like she was letting something go, releasing something that she had been holding inside her whole life. It felt like dropping a heavy weight...setting down a burden. She cried, and screamed, and wailed, and hugged Buffy as hard as she could, as she felt herself emptying out; as everything she had held inside for so long finally flowed out of her, and her whole body trembled. Willow didn’t know if she would ever stop trembling...

Buffy held her tight.

“It’s okay, baby,” Buffy said. “I’m right here. From now on, I’m always right here, okay? Always. Always.”

It took a few minutes for Willow to stop crying. Buffy held Willow to her breasts, and kissed her hair, and whispered in her ear; she whispered that she would always protect her. She whispered that they belonged to each other now; that they had consummated it.

Once Willow stopped crying, they kissed, for a long time. They didn’t talk; they just looked in each other’s eyes. Buffy stayed inside Willow as she kissed her. Buffy didn’t move, didn’t thrust, didn’t fuck her. But she stayed inside, and filled her up.

Willow liked it. She liked Buffy filling her up. She liked Buffy inside.

“Buffy, I...I love...” Willow started to say. Buffy held her finger against Willow’s lips.

“Not yet,” Buffy said. “It’s your birthday present. Little sips for now, baby. Little sips.”

Willow nodded.

“What...um...so what is it?” Willow said, and looked down.

Buffy gently pulled out of her. Willow moaned; it felt good.

“It’s something Buffy bought for you,” Buffy said. “She knows you; she doesn’t know you as well as I do but she thought it was something you needed.”

Willow peeked under the covers. Buffy was wearing a pair of black thong panties, and there was some sort of penis-shaped dildo attached.

“That’s...pretty hardcore,” Willow said.

“Kneel down by the side of the bed,” Buffy said. “There’s something else I want you to do.”

Willow got down on her knees by the bed. That hot, pulsing feeling came into her stomach again, when Buffy told her to kneel down and she obeyed her.

Buffy sat on the side of the bed. Willow got her first up-close look at what Buffy was wearing.

“Buffy bought this for you, because she thinks you need it,” Buffy said. “She doesn’t need to be penetrated but she thinks you do.”

“She doesn’t?” Willow said. She looked at the dildo. It was shaped exactly like a penis, rather than a cylinder; it looked like a cast had been taken of a penis and the dildo had been based on that. It was about six or seven inches long, and it was thick. It even had balls hanging down from it; they looked real too.

“She’s gay,” Buffy said. “But you already know that.”

Willow nodded. “Maybe you can tell her to relax about it and stop bein’ all like, in denial,” Willow said.

“That’s for you, not me,” Buffy said.

Willow touched the dildo. It felt soft; it felt exactly like skin.

“Take it in your mouth,” Buffy said.

Willow nodded, and took it into her mouth, and began sucking on it, gingerly, because it was thick.

“This is something else that was taken away from you,” Buffy said. “Something else I’m giving back. From now on you’ll do this with me sometimes, because I know you like doing this, but those guys who took advantage of you made it feel dirty. It’s not dirty anymore. It’s just for us now, okay, baby?”

Willow nodded, and started to cry.

Buffy took it out of her mouth, and kissed her, and kissed her tears, until they were gone.

“I felt bad,” Willow whispered. “I felt like...like...a skank.”

“You never were,” Buffy said. “You were my baby, the girl I love. You’ve always been my baby, from the day you were born. It just took some time for us to find each other.”

Willow nodded, and smiled.

“Do you want to suck it some more, baby?” Buffy said.

Willow nodded, and took Buffy in her mouth again.

Willow sucked on the dildo for awhile longer, getting used to the feel of it. It felt like it might be too thick at first, but she got used to it its size, and she liked it; she liked having it fill her mouth up, and she liked being on her knees in front of Buffy while she did it, and she liked how Buffy caressed her hair, and smiled down at her, and kissed her forehead, and held her hand. She liked that this was something she did only with Buffy now; she liked that they could create their own memories now, and she could forget the other ones...

After a few more minutes, Buffy took it out of Willow’s mouth, and lifted Willow up, and laid her back on the bed.

“Take me again?” Willow whispered, and opened her legs for her. “Please? Love me again?”

Buffy smiled, and laid on top of her, and entered her. Willow moaned, and adjusted herself to take Buffy inside as far as she could, and hugged her.

“I’ll love you forever,” Buffy said.

“The last card is the outcome, the answer to your question,” Rebecca said. “And you don’t have to see it if you don’t want to. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in not wanting to see it, Faith; many people who believe in the power of the tarot, or of magic in general, avoid divination because they don’t want to have an idea of the future; they don’t want to be influenced that way. We don’t have to turn the last card.”

“Turn it,” Willow said. “Came this far. I can handle whatever’s next.”

“Are you sure, darling?”

“Yeah. Turn it.”

Rebecca turned the last card.

...It was the queen of cups...

...The queen of hearts.