When Tara left Spike's crypt that night, she was livid with him, for so many reasons.

For opening his door to the Slayer again, throwing away the safety she had given him and allowing her the power to hurt him again. For lying to her about it, letting her believe that he was being strong and smart and refusing to be the victim anymore, when he was still enough afraid of Buffy that the moment she showed up, he insisted that Tara leave, for fear of what the Slayer might do if she found her there.

For choosing Buffy's abuse over the compassion she had offered him.

She shook her head, wincing slightly at that last one. This was not about her, or what she wanted. This was about the fact that her very good friend was allowing himself to be abused, and rejecting every effort she had made to help him.

By the time she reached her own apartment that night, "livid" had faded to just plain mad.

By the time she got out of classes the next day, "just plain mad" had given way to a grudging concern.

And by the morning after that, Tara's concern had become genuine fear for Spike's safety. Buffy might not have hit him since the last time she knew of, three weeks earlier -- but Spike was still clearly afraid of her. Tara knew from that sign, and from her own painful past experience, that it was only a matter of time before the Slayer struck out at Spike again.

The problem was, now that she knew that Buffy was back in Spike's life, she did not want to take a chance of visiting him at a time when the Slayer was with him. If Buffy really was still dangerous to the blond vampire, would it not be putting him at greater risk, if she happened to show up when Buffy was there, and could not talk him into leaving her then and there?

Tara sighed wearily as she pushed the door to the Magic Box open -- stopping short when she realized with embarrassed dismay that she had walked in right in the middle of one of their frequent Scoobie meetings -- meetings that, since her breakup with Willow, she was no longer invited to attend.

Everything in the naturally shy girl wanted to flee, to back out the door before anyone noticed her, and the awkwardness could overcome the atmosphere in the room. But it was too late; they were all already looking up at her, with varying degrees of discomfort.

"Tara," Willow whispered, a pitiful sort of hope to her voice that tore at Tara's heart in a vast number of ways.

She knew that she still loved Willow.

She also knew that she could never be with her again, after what she had done.

Tara's eyes quickly moved from those of the redhead, and in what was mostly an attempt just to break eye contact, she found them suddenly locked on Spike's wide, searching blue eyes.

And just like that -- her fear for his safety shifted right back to anger...though it was not fully directed at him.

The blond vampire's face was a mass of dark purple bruises which appeared to have just begun to fade, and everything about his carriage, his manner, as he sat there at the table -- a few feet from the seated Slayer, his shoulders slumped and his head bowed slightly -- spoke of submission...and fear.

It was obvious that he saw the knowledge in her eyes -- the blazing anger that began there -- because he immediately averted his gaze, glancing anxiously in Buffy's direction, no doubt checking to see if she had noticed anything amiss.

She hadn't had time to; the exchange had lasted only an instant.

"Hi, Tara, long time no see," Xander threw her a friendly smile, drawing Tara's eyes to his with a steady, unflinching gaze -- though the smile still seemed a little forced.

"Yeah, not since you broke up with Willow for raping your mind," Anya added with a blank sort of smile that clearly said she had no idea how very inappropriate her words had been.

The group at the table fell silent, all of them looking anywhere but at her, and Tara looked away as well -- but not before noticing the sideways look of alarm and indignation that Spike cast in the redheaded witch's direction. It didn't matter -- not in that moment.

She just had to get away.

"I need a b-book," she blurted out suddenly. "That's why I came. I'll just -- be up there," she mumbled as she quickly strode across the room and up the ladder, where she promptly sat down on the floor beside the low bookshelves, relieved to be out of their sight at last.

Even as she did, she wondered why she hadn't just told them she'd come back later, and gone back out the front door. It would have been easier than waiting up here for their meeting to disperse. But really, deep down, she knew why she hadn't just left; she needed to talk to Spike.

Or rather, Spike needed her to talk to him.

As she idly browsed through the books, most of which she never would have considered using, Tara kept a casual ear attuned to the conversation downstairs, which had resumed some semblance of normality after a few awkward moments. It seemed that after all, it was easier for all the Scoobies to simply forget that she was there, and go about their business.

Tara did notice with a bit of discomfort, however, that Willow barely said a word during the discussion.

And, more alarmingly, neither did Spike.

The only time that he spoke up at all was when Giles asked him what he knew about the particular new breed of demon that the Slayer had run into during the previous night's patrol. Spike responded calmly, explaining what he knew about the origins and attributes of that particular species, but his voice seemed quieter than usual -- subdued -- and Tara could hear the underlying note of fear in his tone, after the Slayer snapped at him to skip the history lesson and just tell her what she needed to know to kill it.

Tara felt her anger flare, but quickly pressed it down for the moment.

Now was not the time.

Eventually, the rather routine meeting broke up, and she breathed a sigh of relief, as she heard the sounds of the Scoobies preparing to leave. Not surprisingly, Willow made a swift exit the moment the discussion was over; Xander kissed his fiance near the door, as she hastily turned over the sign in the window to read "Open" again, and left her to finish her shift in the shop, while Giles left the shop to her to go about doing -- whatever it was that he did on his own time, Tara had never been quite sure.

Cautiously Tara glanced over the railing, unnoticed by the few remaining Scoobies, as a few customers began to enter the shop again. Spike moved toward the training room in the back of the shop, most likely headed for the alley exit, and the most sun-free route back to his crypt.

The Slayer had been standing just a few feet out from where Tara stood, and she watched with alarm as she grimly strode to some point under the upstairs platform, and Tara heard a slightly muffled sound of alarm, and a soft thud of impact which she could only assume was Spike's back hitting the wall behind him.

Desperately, Tara glanced around to see if anyone would notice the display, but Anya was the only one left in the shop, and she was very busy assisting -- or harassing, depending on one's perspective -- the newly arrived customers.

"Spatiosus," she murmured the Latin word under her breath that would bring their whispered conversation to a level where she could hear it, her heart pounding with fear for her friend.

She heard Spike's voice, hushed but shaking slightly, as he opened his mouth to say something; but Buffy's soft voice cut him off with a whispered, "Shhh. Relax. I'm not gonna hurt you." Tara could hear the smirk in her voice as she lowered it slightly, and leaned in closer to whisper, "Unless you deserve it."

"I don't," Spike whispered almost frantically. "Buffy, I haven't..."

"Shut up now," the Slayer ordered softly, her words inaudible to anyone but the vampire in front of her -- who instantly obeyed -- and the witch listening in upstairs. "Come here."

Tara heard their footsteps walking away, into the training room, and let out a gasp of alarm, waiting until she heard the door quietly close behind them to rush down the stairs. Glancing around to ensure that Anya was still distracted, not wanting to involve anyone else in this dangerous affair unless she had to, Tara found herself hesitating outside the training room door -- listening.

Fortunately, her little spell still held, even with the door between them.

"Finestra," Tara whispered the Latin word for "window" -- and the wall between her and the room became clear as glass, though only to her own eyes.

"I didn't tell her anything, I swear it, Buffy, please..." Spike's voice was trembling, fearful, as the Slayer slammed him hard back against the training room wall.

"Funny how she just showed up here today, isn't it?" the Slayer hissed in a threateningly mocking tone, frighteningly calm, as she moved in closer to the vampire. "Did you happen to get attacked by a demon again last night after I left, Sweetie? And she just *happened* to be looking for my sister *again*? I bet you two had a pretty interesting conversation while she was patching you up -- didn't you?"

"No," Spike objected, shaking his head pleadingly. "No, Buffy -- I haven't seen her since -- since that time. It's the *only* time -- Buffy, I swear...please..."

His words were cut off by a sharp slap across his face that knocked his head back against the wall, and he bit his lip to stifle the cry of pain that rose in his throat. He shrank back against the wall as the Slayer moved in yet nearer, her hand suddenly gripping his throat so that he could not draw breath, leaving him gasping uselessly -- silently -- as she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"If I find out you're lying to me, Spike...I'll kill you. And I'll kill her too. You know I mean it -- don't you?"

Her voice was chillingly soft, even, and left a chill in Tara's heart as well, knowing beyond all doubt that she meant every word. Tara gasped herself, as she watched Buffy's knee edge upward between the helpless vampire's legs in a terrifying gesture of menace, and watched Spike wince at the contact, nodding desperately in response, obviously just wanting to stop her from hurting him any more.

All at once Buffy released him, and Spike sank down against the wall, clutching his bruised throat and gasping in deep, panicked droughts of air.

Sometimes, Tara thought, not for the first time, it seemed that he almost forgot he was a vampire at all.

Without another word, the Slayer turned and strode toward the training room door.

Toward Tara.

Hurriedly whispering the words to end the spells she had cast, Tara turned on trembling legs, thankful that she had thought to bring a book -- any book -- with her from the upstairs level. Purposefully, she made her way to the cash register, painfully aware of the Slayer's presence behind her as Buffy casually closed the door to the training room and sauntered up to the front counter.

"Hey, Tara."

"Hey, Buffy." Tara forced a friendly smile to her lips, hoping for Spike's sake that it did not appear forced. "W-what's up?"

"I've been meaning to talk to you," Buffy shrugged, turning around and leaning against the counter as if she was just a little bored.

*Damn, she's good,* Tara thought darkly, carefully keeping her expression uncertain and as clueless as possible.

"M-me?" she stammered -- deliberately, for once.

"Yeah. I was just -- wanting to be sure you were okay," Buffy explained, as Anya rang up Tara's purchase, and the blonde took the money from her wallet and laid it on the counter. "I mean -- oh, I'll just say it. I was patrolling the other night, and I saw you in the cemetery."

"Oh." Tara's heart was pounding, and that was the only response she could think of at the moment. Her mind was too busy going back over all she had overheard, trying to figure out what Spike had told Buffy -- and therefore, what she should tell her now.

"I mean -- I know this has been a really hard time for you, Tara," Buffy went on, in a voice of near-sincere sympathy, as Anya took off to go accost another potential customer. "But -- I just want to be sure that you're safe. I mean -- it's not safe for you to be alone in the cemetery after dark. Not without me around, you know?"

"Oh," Tara nodded. "I know what you mean, Buffy, and I usually wouldn't. But -- I've been -- w-worried. About Dawnie, l-lately. And -- I had p-plans with her, but I w-went by the house, and sh-she wasn't there. So, I th-thought maybe she might have gone to S-spike's."

"I don't let her go to Spike's," Buffy immediately informed her, her tone matter-of-fact.

*No, you like him good and isolated, with no one to turn to, don't you?* Tara thought, fighting back her rising rage.

Aloud, she said, "Well, I kn-knew she'd been there before, so I just thought..."

Buffy nodded as her voice trailed off. "Well, I just wondered, 'cause it was like, midnight, you know? Or maybe even later..."

Tara hid a smirk that threatened to rise to her lips, noting the little slip that showed that Buffy really had not been anywhere near the cemetery when she had been there that first time, when she had tended to Spike's injuries. It had been nearly dawn when she had left that time.

"I know," she went along with it anyway with a nod. "See -- Spike was hurt. He w-was in pretty bad shape, s-so I stuck around to help him take care of it."

Buffy nodded slowly, and Tara was intensely aware of the casual scrutiny in her gaze. "Well," the Slayer finished with a sigh. "I know you've got a good heart, Tara. But you have to think of yourself. I mean, when it all comes down -- you're human, Tara. Spike's harmless, but he's a vampire. You're worth ten Spikes."

*And he's worth a hundred Slayers,* Tara bit back the retort that filled her mind, forcing another grateful smile as Buffy stood up straight as if to go.

"Thanks, Buffy," she nodded. "I'll be careful."

Tara pretended to browse a bit more, waiting for Buffy to make her way out the front door -- and then headed directly for the training room, hoping that Spike was still there.

He was.

He was crouched on the floor against the wall, still holding his battered throat, his breath shallow and rapid and shaking. He flinched as she opened the door -- clearly expecting someone else -- and then stared at her, wide-eyed in startled fear. He glanced past her toward the shop, shaking his head and whispering, "Tara -- if she sees you..."

"She's gone."

He just stared at her in silence as he registered that response. Tara hesitated only a moment, before starting toward him.

"*Don't*."

She froze, confused and startled -- and a little hurt -- by the reaction, as Spike shakily rose to his feet, not quite meeting her eyes as he went on.

"If she -- if she comes back -- Tara, I can't -- I can't -- see you -- for a while...she...she gets jealous...she doesn't want me to...so...you understand, right, love?"

The forced calm to his voice -- the same sound she had heard in so many other voices in the past hour -- was suddenly infuriating to Tara. She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes narrowing in anger as he continued to refuse to look at her, just stood there, his eyes stubbornly fastened on the floor, his jaw working as he fought to maintain a calm, blank expression.

"Yes," she finally replied, her voice coming out in a low, hoarse tone of anger that seemed to surprise them both. "Yes, I understand, Spike." Each word was distinct and separate, carrying a wealth of meaning -- very little of which seemed positive.

Spike flinched slightly at the sound, though she knew he knew she'd never hurt him.

"You'd rather let her hurt you than let me help you," Tara continued, her voice soft but trembling with a dozen different painful emotions. She paused for a moment, before going on, "Spike -- I'm your friend. Now, I don't like the fact that you lied to me -- and I'm mad as hell about it -- but I want to be here for you. I came in here because -- because I don't like seeing her do this to you, and don't want you to be alone. And -- and I know you don't *want* to be alone."

She hesitated just a moment, before pressing quietly, "Do you?"

Spike was silent, though his body had gone completely still, and it now seemed to take a supreme effort to keep himself from reacting in any way to her speech. His eyes were wide, staring down at the floor at her feet, his hands balled into fists at his sides, as he swallowed convulsively, forcing back the emotions that were visibly engulfing him.

Tara waited for his response -- which did not come -- and then added in a voice that was both soft and firm at once, "If you want me to help you -- if you want me to stay -- I will. But -- I'll go if you want, too. This is your choice, not mine."

Again, Spike was perfectly silent. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then shook his head, turning it slightly away from her.

Her heart sinking, breaking under the weight of a poor decision that was not her own to make, Tara turned toward the door, steps that seemed heavier than they should have been taking her only as far as the doorway.

"*Wait*."

The sound was a bare whisper, barely even audible -- unless one had been listening for it with every desperate fiber of her being, intent on hearing it if it was there to be heard.

And Tara had been.

She stopped without turning, waiting for him to go on, determined to remain strong, not to become just another enabler of the situation by accepting what he was allowing to be done to him. She would go back -- but only if he was willing to allow her to help him, to get out of the situation, to...

"Stay...please, stay..."

All of her resolutions fell apart, as the sound of the vampire's utter breaking behind her drew her around, and to his side in an instant. Spike was sobbing -- breathless, painful sobs that seemed to come from somewhere deep down inside him, as he fell back down to the floor, driven to his knees with sorrow and pleading and pain.

Tara fell to her knees beside him and wrapped her arms around him without hesitation, pulling him to her and rocking slightly as she murmured comforting shushing sounds in his ear.

"Don't leave me, Tara..." he sobbed, clinging to her, his head resting on her shoulder. "C-can't be alone...please, don't go..."

"Shhh," she whispered, a soothing hand running up and down his back as she cradled him close to her, reassuring him, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not gonna leave you alone, Spike..."

After a few moments, his sobs seemed to ebb for the moment, and he pulled away from her slightly, meeting her eyes with a wide, tearful, desperate gaze. He was shaking, clearly terrified to even speak the words -- yet something within him seemed to know that it was the only way.

If he did not escape -- the Slayer would kill him.

"Help me," he whispered, tears streaming from his eyes with the heartfelt plea. "Tara -- please help me."