A/N: Yeahhh, about those regular updates… I didn't really lie, but I wasn't telling the truth. Sorrryy. Having financial issues, just got my new laptop, internet sucks cow ass.

Shout-out to the guest reviewer, Clou, I believe. Thankieesssss. Other reviews are greatly appreciated, especially my new followers.

First time using GoogleDocs. If something gets screwed up, shoot the computer, not me.


It was too good to be true. The little redhead, mewling pathetically at her touch. Tara knew this - if she would just fuck her, she could get over herself, purge the poisonous presence from her system, move on with her damned life.

She was possibly right, finally leaving Willow to sleep a few minutes after her breath became even. She felt no urge, other than to wash her hands and silently creep into the broom closet, where she would wait for the girl to inevitably wake up, realize she was gone, and leave her the hell alone again.

Tara maneuvered herself into the shallow closet, peering out into the daylight sneaking through the thick curtains through the slats in the door. She blinked once, twice, feeling a slow movement in her chest. She felt like holding her breath, and drew in a slight breath. It was strange, breathing to a rhythm like a living creature.

Willow shuffled around in her bed, whimpering. Tara moved to observe the sleeping figure closer, closing her eyes and inhaling sharply. The room smelled like sex. Tara inhaled again, her eyes dreamily shuttering closed.

Hinges in need of oiling deftly eased open beneath the grace of the vampire's movements. She moved closer, descending over the girl. She kissed the small girl's thin arm up to her shoulder. Her clothing was rumpled, bunche up to reveal three or four inches of pale ribs and stray freckles otherwise absent from her ginger form. Her pajama pants had been discarded on the floor, but her panties remained in a wrinkled mess around her thin thighs.

She tasted like sweat. Her neck, wet and hot, flexed beneath her cold tongue, the muscles twitching.

Green eyes met the predatory blue of the vampire.

Her fingers quickly divested the small girl of her cotton panties, throwing them to the floor. Tara closed her teeth around the inside of her thigh, nicking and licking at the seeping blood. Willow, never once saying a word, grabbed the back of Tara's head and pushed her into herself.

Both women whimpered at the contact, Willow arching upward. The sound she made was nothing short of desperation. Tara licked at the forming velvet interior, suckling at the wetness. Within moments, the blood had dried. Tara was biting again, harder.

"Gods, stop that hurts!" she heard the small girl scream.

Tara jerked away like she had been branded with a cross. She blinked, watching blood spill out onto the blankets, pooling everywhere. "Shit," Tara hissed, grabbing for the nearest fabric and firmly holding it against the palpitating stream of iron and hormones. "Shit," she repeated.

Willow kicked Tara in her chest, sending her hurtling from the bed. She grabbed at the cotton again, an old blanket, and held it against the wounds.

Tara, doing what she knew best, stole the nearest garment, covered her head, and ran into the daylight, simmering until she hid somewhere dark and dank.


Willow blinked again, gently pulling the darkened blue rags away, biting her lip as she stared at seven drooling puncture marks. Magic couldn't fix that, no way. Healing magic was painful and far beyond her level of expertise. Vampire saliva was a natural panacea, meant for chewing up all the bacteria and viruses that could lurk in human blood. It would clean the bites better than hydrogen peroxide and heal them faster than stitches.

In the meantime they would hurt like a bitch.

She didn't think she could walk. She was right. She stayed on the bed, the dying electric pulses of pain from her pathetic attempt at limping nibbling through her.

The bleeding stopped after several minutes. The ratty blanket, caked with jellying blood and lint, was balled up and tossed into the corner of the room. Willow sighed, finding where her panties had been thrown, reaching desperately from the edge of the bed. She sighed, realizing she wasn't going to get anything done until the shallow holes stopped throbbing.

Hours away from sundown, she fell asleep.