Title: Washed With Blood
Author: Robyn the Snowshoe Hare
Part: 1/1
Spoilers: "Hush"
Disclaimer: All characters are the sole property of Joss, Mutant Enemy, and those rat-bastards at Fox.

Author's Notes: I don't trust Tara, moreso because the vibe she gave me in just one episode was bad enough to inspire this fic.

Dedication: For Rob, who agreed with me not only about the bad vibe, but about the Willow/Tara undertones.

~*~*~*~*~*~

I can feel her power, and it's a heady thing.

It rolls through my head and dances across my skin. It scents the very air that I breath, and coats the back of my throat so that everything I eat is flavored with it. My hand burns to touch her, to run my fingers through her red hair, to trace the soft curve of her cheek, to stroke the soft skin around her expressive eyes.

I want to know all of the secrets that those eyes hint at. They croon to me of powerful magics, of dark knowledge, of love, of fear, of friendship, and of innocence.

She's like a feast waiting to be devoured, a flower begging to be plucked, a butterfly aching to be captured.

I have to remember to go slowly with her. She has high morals, but that will only make fall more complete. She's tasted power over others, and even though she might've shied away from it, I know that part of her was tempted. I need to give that dark seedling that is nothing but a whisper of a thought just a little water. . . the flower it blooms into will be glorious to behold.

*HE* warned her to be careful, to take it slowly. She told me that quite quickly, and it was so perfect that I could barely keep up the facade of sisterly solace. That might keep her ambitions in check for a time, even when I start showing her just how much she can do now . . . now that she has me to help her.

Corruption is an art, and I am a master.

She loved him, and he left her. And she might try and hide it, but I can see that resentment like a cancer inside her, eating away. So benign, so common, yet so easy to fan into malignancy. Not only is the wolf out of my way, but when I'm done she'll be delving into the darkness to *spite* him. Just a little bit, of course, at first. But once she tastes that power, she'll never turn back.

This one is well guarded, but the little princess has danced beyond the palace walls. I barely even need to bother with telling her that they are all holding her back, because that thought is already there, and growing beautifully.

The Slayer is dangerous, but her time is drawing to a close. The Watcher has influence, but with any luck, his own guilt and hesitation will be his undoing. Their warnings have all been given before, and it won't take much for her to tire of ever hearing them again. By the time the change becomes noticeable to all, it will be far too late. The others are so distracted it's laughable - the fool has sex, and the vampire has blood.

Anyanka is clever, and I underestimated her once before, but she has become placid in this little world of hers. A demon who wrecked vengeance on the male species for millennia, and the first thing she does is become involved with a man she was sent to punish. Her own powers are much diminished, but she alone knows me well enough to stop me. She'll think twice before tangling with me as a human, though, and Anyanka was always one to watch out for her own skin. She wouldn't risk her life for this one.

And this one is mine. Already she comes running to meet me whenever she catches sight of me, and already she depends on me in a spell. For now, all I'm giving her is a little boost, but soon I'll give her much more. Soon she won't even bother to open a spellbook without consulting me for help.

This one is beloved of the Higher Powers. Of the little group, her light shines most brilliantly. But that makes her only the more perfect. After all, was not Luciver the most beautiful of all His angels?

I have this one's mind, and soon I shall have her body. And only when her soul is twisted and gnarled will I take that too. And by that time she'll be so much my creature that she will thank me for every pain I deliver unto her, for every new perversion I show her. She'll destroy her friends without a thought, just for my praise. She'll wash her hands with blood and dance with the darkest of joys.

But for now, I'll wait.

Because my little Willow is most certainly worth it.