Thank you. It occurs to me I write about hair frequently.(It was going to be the family business for about half a minute, though. But that was before my time.) It's funny...from the beginning there's been quite a strong bond between Munch and Dru, even though sometimes he finds her frightening.

erika, I think her craziness echoes a place where he lives in his head, but is afraid to venture too deep into.

I can definitely see that. He digs the vision thing. And we lefties (well some of us)wanna believe inside every crazy person is a genius that "gets it" better than we do. You know, what if she's on to something? What if she knows the meaning of life? John isn't going to want to miss that.

John isn't going to want to miss that.

Right. And now I'm envisioning them circling round each other like doubtful dogs, sniffing for The Truth, whatever in hell that is - or at least John would. Dru? Who knows?

Of course, we all know intellectually that the crazy genius? Mostly bull. But it is our myth and we love it. Cause, you know, society is crazy. The other one we like is that there is an island somewhere where the people Get It Right and never fight or anything. Hmm, Buffista Island is making a different kind of sense now...

Let's see what Willow's up to, OK, boys and girls?

Willow lay in bed next to Tara, tracing her eyebrows and nose and lips. "You are so beautiful," she whispered. "So beautiful."

Tara's lips smiled under Willow's fingers. "So are you."

"You're more beautiful."

"No, I'm not."

Willow kissed her. "Yes, you are. So there."

Tara lowered her eyes, but she was smiling.

With a contented sigh, Willow snuggled in close. "I love you so very much."

"I love you more." Tara kissed her to stop the protest. "So there." Willow laughed and let it go.

They lay together in happy silence, watching the candles flicker lower. Miss Kitty hopped onto the bed and found her favorite spot in the curve behind Tara's knees. Tara's blinks finally became nearly indistinguishable from someone fighting sleep.

"Go to sleep, sweetie," Willow whispered. "I love watching you sleep."

"Voyeur," Tara murmured.

"Darn tootin'." Willow lightly ran her finger tips along Tara's forehead and cheekbones. "Go to sleep." Tara's eyelids slid closed and her breathing deepened. Willow continued to run her fingers along Tara's face. "Sweet dreams, my sweet. Deep sleep and sweet dreams." She kissed her lover's forehead and slipped carefully out of bed.

She stood a moment, watching Tara sleep. She still wasn't completely over the terror Glory's theft of Tara's mind, the feeling of helplessness when she didn't think she'd ever have her beloved back. She wished she'd watched more of the fight that had taken Glory down, just for the satisfaction.

There were still so many bad things out there, still so many ways your loved ones could get hurt. She had to learn every way she could to protect them. Nothing was ever going to hurt her family again.

She dressed quickly, gathered some things, and left as quietly as she could. The wards of protection on the door go an extra bit of energy. As tough as those wards were now, the whole building could catch fire and Tara would sleep peacefully on in a room completely untouched.

Not many people were still around in the break between summer school and fall semester. No one noticed Willow leaving the building--not that there was anything to notice, just a girl heading out with a knapsack over one shoulder. She strolled off casually, heading for the east side of town.

She took a shortcut through the smallest and oldest of Sunnydale's myriad cemeteries, filled with really neat crypts and Spike's former home. She wasn't far from the Du Lac crypt when she heard the sound of metal on stone.

"Oh, bother," she sighed, and changed directions.

Soft, gently sexy...perfect W/T.

Beautiful stuff, Connie.

Does anyone else have a tendency towards startitis? You get a wonderful plot bunny, hammer out a couple of killer scenes, and then stop cold?

Anne, my hard drive is littered with the evidence, much like leftover tissue when I have a cold.

Startits. I like that word. I also do that all of the time.