"I don't know...I don't want to make things any harder on him...give him any more to w-worry about..."

Tara winced at her own stutter, which seemed to have returned to the forefront simply through the conversation that she and the empathic green demon had just had, about her family, her past...and her need to share it with her suffering friend.

"It won't, trust me," Lorne assured her. "Look, Sweetie Pie, what Spike needs right now more than anything else is to know that he's not alone...that someone understands what he's going through, and that he's not worthless and dirty and bad and all the other things that Buffy's made him think he is, because of the things she *did* to him."

"That's how *I* felt," Tara admitted softly, not meeting his eyes.

"Exactly."

She reluctantly looked up at him, drawing in a deep, shaky breath. Once he was sure that he had her attention, Lorne smiled gently. "And we both know he doesn't think that about *you*. If what happened to you wasn't *your* fault - and it wasn't -- then what happened to him isn't his fault, either. Hearing about it from someone else...knowing that he's not the only one who's ever felt like he feels right now...can only help, Sugar Lump. Why do you think they have so many support groups out there for every ailment under the sun? Because it's healing to know that someone else has been there."

Tara nodded slowly, feeling a nervous fluttering in her stomach at the outward agreement to do what she had always thought of as the impossible...to tell her own dark secret, the story of her painful past. She had vowed never to reveal it, but she thought that maybe she could, if she had to - for Spike's sake.

Sensing that there was no need for any further words, Lorne stepped silently out of her way, giving her a knowing smile after glancing at the closed door to the room where Spike was...alone, for the moment.

Not for long.

Steeling herself for what she knew that she had to do, Tara slowly opened the door...and then hesitated, drawing back her hand. She considered for a moment, before turning decidedly away from the door and making her way down the stairs.

********************************

Spike whirled around at the sound of the door sliding open, turning from where he stood by the window, gazing out into the gathering night, to face the imagined threat. Before his fears even had time to fully form, he heard a familiar voice that filled him with a sense of warm relief.

"It's j-just me, Spike. Don't worry. And -- and I've got blood for you."

Spike felt a wave of tender affection for the young woman, as he realized that she had anticipated his fear without seeing it, and made a point of announcing her presence so as not to alarm him. There was a bit of embarrassment at the thought that she had found it necessary, but a greater sense of safety and reassurance, that she knew so completely what he needed and when.

Well...almost completely.

There were some things that she could never know...no matter what the Jolly Green Empath thought he should do.

"It might not be enough, after...after going so long without...but Angel said to start slow. He said this much was good for now, and you could have some more later," Tara explained as she crossed the room and moved around the bed to sit down on the edge of it, facing him as she held out a large, steaming thermal mug. After she was seated and gazing at him intently, she asked in a quiet voice of concern, "How are you doing?"

Spike shrugged noncommittally, not quite looking at her as he took it. In the wake of his far-too-revealing conversation with Lorne, combined with the revelation that Tara and Lorne shared some abilities, Spike had the uncomfortable feeling that his true emotions might be as obvious to Tara as they were to the green demon.

On some level, he knew that was not true. Her behavior toward him alone led him to believe that it was not true.

Still...he could not quite bring himself to meet her eyes.

"Been better," he replied flatly before raising the mug to his lips and draining it quickly.

At the moment, he felt physically sick at the prospect of the difficult conversation Lorne had recommended, whether he actually intended to *have* that conversation or not. At any rate, his appetite was weakened, despite the fact that this was the first blood he had had since escaping Buffy's basement. As he set the mug down on the nightstand, however, he had to admit that he felt quite a bit better already.

After a moment he added quietly, "Been worse, too, I s'pose. Recently. So in that light...can't really soddin' complain, can I?"

He winced inwardly at the bitter note in his own voice, before reminding himself that if anyone deserved to be bitter...

"Of course you can," Tara argued, sounding indignant and defensive for him, in spite of the fact that he was the one who had said the words to which she was taking offense. "Spike, you have every right to feel the way you do. It's been, what? Two days? Two days, since you were chained up in that basement, and...and...Spike, you have every right to feel the way you do about it!"

"Not doin' anyone any bloody good, though, is it?" he pointed out softly, turning slightly away from her, his expression unreadable. "Need to just bloody well get over it. Put it behind me, yeah? Just - just forget it."

"You'll never forget it, Spike."

Tara 's voice was infinitely gentle, compassionate...and all the more painful for it. Spike felt his eyes well with tears, as his mind acknowledged the fact that she was right...and he simply couldn't bear knowing it.

"I have to," he whispered, and the ache in his heart was clearly audible in his voice.

As he spoke, he was surprised to feel the gentle warmth of Tara 's arms sliding around him from behind. He had not heard or sensed her movement, but she was there, supporting him as he leaned gratefully back into her embrace, silent sobs rising and spilling out from his aching throat.

"Please...please, I have to," he repeated, desperation in his voice, a familiar desperation that tore at Tara 's heart. "Don't tell me I can't, because I *have* to, Tara ...I can't...I can't stand this...it has to get easier..."

"It *will* get easier."

As much as he had longed to hear the words, they felt like a lie to his shattered, devastated spirit.

"You can say that," he whispered, shaking his head as tears coursed down his face. "But how the bloody hell do you know, Tara ? How do you *know*?"

"I just do."

They were both silent for a long moment, before the words registered fully with the vampire, and he tried to pull free of her embrace, to turn and face her, a worried expression of alarm forming on his face. Tara held him firm, refusing to allow him to face her just yet, and he froze, his expression intent, though he was not able to look at her.

"Don't," Tara whispered, a pleading sound in her voice. "Spike, please don't..."

"Tara...what do you mean?" Spike persisted, his strong but gentle hands closing on hers in front of him, his head turned in her direction, though his back was to her. "Tara ...you have to tell me...did someone...they didn't...?"

"Yes."

Spike turned to face her, and this time, Tara made no attempt to stop him. It was her turn to avert her gaze, as his piercing blue eyes sought hers anxiously, stunned dismay in his eyes.

"Who hurt you?" he demanded, and his voice was surprisingly low and dangerous. "Who did it, Tara? Tell me."

Tara's feelings were in utter turmoil, her stomach sick and queasy at the thought of making the revelation she was about to, but her heart feeling strangely warmed by the fiercely protective tone of Spike's voice.

*Maybe this is what he needs, to make him feel more like himself...the chance to be protective of *you* for a change...*

"*Tara*," Spike pressed her urgently, reaching out to take her hands in his, his head lowered in an attempt to catch her eyes. "Tara, please...talk to me, love."

Tara finally raised her eyes to his, a sad smile on her lips, her eyes wet with tears. "I...I want to...I really do...but it isn't easy, Spike." She backed toward the bed, sitting down again, pulling Spike with her as she moved. "I just...I just need for you to know that when I say I understand...I *do* understand."

Spike was slowly shaking his head in an instinctive gesture of denial, one he was not even aware of making. His expression was stricken, horrified at the thought that Tara -- sweet, gentle Tara -- had experienced things that in any way resembled what he had been through.

"Tara...tell me what happened...please." Spike hesitated, searching her eyes for the answer she was so reluctant to provide. "Who...who hurt you?"

Tara was silent for a long moment, her eyes focused on the comforter at which she was nervously picking. She opened her mouth to respond...and her nerve failed her. She tried again. The third time, she was successful.

"Do you r-remember...my brother Donnie?"

"Yes."

The angry growl that underscored the word surprised Tara, and she looked up sharply to meet Spike's eyes...aware a moment too late of just how much was revealed in her open, vulnerable gaze. Spike's expression softened with compassion at the pain in her eyes, and he sat down beside her, instinctively wrapping an arm around her shoulders, still clasping one of her hands in her lap.

Tara stared down at their joined hands, absently stroking the back of his with her thumb as she struggled to find the strength to go on.

"It s-started when I was...seven. He...he came into my room one night." Tara was quiet for a moment, a soft, ironic smile rising to her lips as she went on. "I used to...to go climb in bed with him, when I was...really little. I was always a...a cuddler. So...so the first time, I...I thought, ‘Donnie must want to cuddle me'. I felt...special. Until...until he..."

Tara's voice trailed off, and she shook her head, a silent indication that she could not go on.

"Oh, Tara...Tara, love, it's all right," Spike murmured, his voice thick with tears. "You can tell me, love."

"He...he told me not to tell. He said...if I did...he'd...he'd kill me. And...and that then, he'd just have to...to find what he needed somewhere else. We lived next door to my aunt and uncle, and my cousins. They spent the night...all the time. I knew what he meant. He was saying that if I...if I wouldn't let him...he'd...he'd turn to my cousin, Beth. And I couldn't...couldn't let that happen, you know? He said they'd never believe me...and I was sure that they wouldn't..."

"You couldn't have known any better, love," Spike assured her. "You must 'ave been so confused...so...intimidated. Pet...it wasn't your fault."

"It still...bothers me. I can't...can't seem to forget it," Tara confessed quietly. "I mean...it's not as bad as it was...I've...healed, some...but...it's not really over. Not yet." She paused before admitting, "I'm not really sure it ever will be."

"Tara..." Spike's voice was trembling with emotion, his eyes welling with tears of affectionate admiration, as he raised a shaking hand to gently caress her cheek, lifting her face to meet his eyes. "...Tara, love...you're so bloody strong...takes a bit to get past that sort of thing...and you've come so far, you'd never...you'd never know..."

"So are you."

Spike's eyes momentarily widened, and he abruptly removed his hand, his gaze falling to his lap. "I...I don't know..."

"It wasn't your fault, either, Sweetie," Tara persisted, reaching out to touch his arm, trying to draw his attention back to her. "She had you every bit as intimidated as Donnie had me. And it's okay if it takes a while...a good, *long* while...to get past that, Spike."

"I should have...I should have said something...should have left," Spike whispered, shaking his head, despair in his voice.

"So...it wasn't my fault...but it *was* yours?" Tara concluded in a pointed voice, smiling when Spike grudgingly raised his eyes to hers again.

His expression was doubtful, as he opened his mouth to respond, and then frowned when he found himself at a loss. Finally he let out a short, bitter laugh, as he ruefully admitted, "Seems so. Know it doesn't make any bloody sense...but it's so...so soddin' hard to...to believe...it's so hard to get past it, love..."

"I know it is," Tara agreed, reaching out to tilt his head up to face her. "I know...and now you *know* that I know. But we *will* get through it, Spike. I know it feels like...like no one understands. But now you know that...someone does. *I* do. And we will get through this. Together."

Spike lost the struggle to avoid meeting her eyes, gradually losing himself in her intent, passionate gaze, as her hand drifted from his face upward toward his hair, stroking through it to the ends, pulling gently as her eyes began to drift from his eyes to his trembling lips, and then back again.

The slight slip was not missed by the vampire, who was acutely aware of the subtle shift in the atmosphere between them, and felt a vague sense of alarm when he realized that he was leaning closer to her, his head turning into her touch.

"Tara," he whispered, closing his eyes as his lips touched her wrist, and without stopping to think of what he was doing, caressing the sensitive skin with his mouth. "Tara, love..."

The soft gasp that left Tara's lips at the rather innocent contact was more encouraging than shocked, and Spike raised his own hand to hold her wrist, pressing a series of light, tender kisses from her wrist, up her arm.

"Spike...oh, Spike..." Tara whispered, and when he looked up at her without lifting his lips from her arm, Spike saw that her eyes were closed, her breath shortening, as her hand that was still locked in his twisted slightly, clutching his hand tighter before releasing it and sliding her hand down to rest at his side.

"Tara," Spike spoke in a low, husky voice, raising his lips from her arm, his head bowed with his fear to see what her reaction would be. "Tara, love, I know I'm not...not what you want...I know I'm not hardly good enough...but Tara...Tara, I..."

His words suddenly dropped off as her hand in his hair became firm, and her knowing eyes locked with his as she shook her head slowly. Then, she gently pulled his head in closer to hers, leaning toward him to press her lips firmly to his, her fingers kneading his scalp as her other hand clutched awkwardly at his belt, pulling slightly, a sign of her conflicting desires both to give him as much space as he needed, not to push him...and to have him as close as was physically possible.

Spike was vaguely aware in some part of his mind that was not utterly consumed with the kiss that if anyone else had been so forceful with him -- anyone but Tara -- it would have been rather alarming. But he trusted Tara completely, and with the realization that that was really so, Spike began to allow himself to surrender to the kiss, to barely begin to believe that perhaps she wanted him like he wanted her...

"Knock, knock."

Instantly, the vampire and the witch flew apart, and Lorne opened the door to find Tara anxiously smoothing her skirt, her gaze focused on her lap, and Spike standing a few yards from her, his arms crossed over his chest as he cleared his throat loudly.

"Hey, guys...didn't mean to interrupt, but Angel-cakes wanted me to come up and let you guys know that the Muses are almost done with the sanctuary spell."

Tara nodded, trying to steady her breathing as she gave him a smile that was a little too bright.

"Good...good," Spike replied hurriedly, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out shakily. "That's...good."

"Another twenty minutes, and we'll be home free." Lorne grinned as he glanced knowingly between them and added slyly, "Though something tells me you two wouldn't need quite that long to get...er...home." Without waiting for a response, he stepped back out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

Tara and Spike exchanged a glance that started off awkward...and faded into a pair of knowing smiles, which gradually shifted into the beginnings of hysterical laughter.

But only the beginnings.

Moments after he had closed it, Lorne opened the door again...and the teasing humor in his expression had been replaced with fear. Spike felt his stomach drop at the look on the green-skinned demon's face, and knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"Um...maybe you guys should stay up here for a little while..."

"Why?" Spike demanded, his voice trembling dangerously with an edge of barely restrained terror.

Tara rose from the bed and went swiftly to his side, clutching his hand in hers firmly, supportively, as she faced Lorne and waited for his response.

"It's just...give the Muses time to finish the spell before you...you make yourselves vulnerable, you know?" Lorne hedged. "Just stay in here where it's..."

"Vulnerable to what?" Spike insisted in the same tone.

"Um...SugarPie..."

"She's here...isn't she?"

Lorne studied the vampire's expression for a long moment, before deciding that there was no way he could hide the truth from him.

"Yes," he admitted. "She's here."