Willow gazed at the main galleria of the Sunnydale mall with undisguised glee, and tugged at Spike's hand. Geez, for a guy with supernatural speed and reflexes, he could be so slooooow. "Come *on*! They have a sale at Gymboree. Tara would look so cute in those little overalls with the elephants on the pocket. Hurry up!"

"Would somebody like to explain to me, slowly, again, how we got roped into this?" Xander was asking.

"You said you'd take care of us if we got little, duh," Willow told him.

"No, I meant, how did Spike and I get roped into taking you two to the mall, by ourselves. You'd think Anya would have learned, after the supermarket incident. And the bookstore. And the Toys R' Us."

"Yeah-- we got sent for *one* book on day trading, and came back with the entire Louisa May bloody Alcott section," Spike grumbled.

"Well, Tara hadn't read them. It's classic literature, from your generation. I don't see what your problem is."

"It's sniffly girly books from my generation, is what it is."

"Anyway, we didn't do anything to you in Toys R' Us-- you bought more toys for *you* than you did us," Tara pointed out innocently.

"Which is another reason why Anya should have known better than to let us loose with you two," Xander riposted. "Anyway, I think two hundred bucks' worth of software comes out about even with Spike's and my Lego sets."

Willow had to admit, they had a point. Anya had told them, each time they'd gone off somewhere, not to spend too much. She'd given them lists. The first time she had given the list to Spike, then she'd given it to Xander, then finally to Willow -- a list of approved purchases from whatever store they were being sent to. They invariably had failed to get less than $100 over the cost of the approved list.

Did Anya think her boys would eventually learn how to shop properly? Through rote repetition? If so, surely she would have realized that it hadn't worked thus far. Maybe she simply didn't like to shop, and felt that letting Spike and Xander go nuts was a small price to pay to avoid the mall and shopping centers. Anya definitely liked pretty things, but that didn't mean she was a shopaholic like Buffy or Cordelia; her shiny things were usually showered upon her by one or more guilty-acting men.

Then again, who cared *why* she'd let them loose with money to burn? Anya had given Xander her credit card this morning. Which meant -- "Oo! Spike, look, they've having a sale!" Willow tugged on his hand, wishing she could risk a small levitation spell because a certain vampire was acting like his feet were made of lead.

"That's not the Gymboree," Xander pointed out. Willow rolled her eyes -- like she'd forgotten how to read?

"But we need shoes," she pointed out, stopping in front of the store, and looking up at her oldest best friend with her very best pleading eyes.

"Should I just give you the credit card, and Spike and I can wait out here on the old man benches?"

"Don't be silly-- we need you to hold things for us!"

Spike groaned. Xander shot him a commiserating look, as if Willow was actually asking them to do something difficult, or horrible, or embarrassing. "It could be worse, I guess," Xander said as they walked into the store. "We could be shopping with Willow as an adult. 'Here, just hold my purse for me while I look at this rack of absolutely identical skirts, to find the one that goes just right with the hat that looks like a squished pumpkin'..."

"Summer squash. But thanks for reminding me-- here-- hold this." Willow shoved her little pink vinyl Powerpuff change purse into Spike's open hand, then wiggled out of his grasp, heading for the kids' tennis shoes. When she peeked back around the corner, Spike was still holding the purse up, staring at it as if she'd put a live aardvark in his hand. She giggled, and pointed him out to Tara. "Suuuure, he was willing to wear Mojo Jojo, when he was four, but look at him now. Poor manly baby."

"I *heard* that," Spike shouted. Which just made her giggle harder, since, of course, he'd been meant to.

Then she heard a quiet "Oops." She turned around to where Tara had been standing, to find her girlfriend standing by a pile of what had been a lovely display of children's footwear. Now in a pile on the floor.

Tara looked up at her, eyes wide -- as if that sort of expression worked on fellow-four year olds, Willow thought. For a second, then she was beside Tara, holding her hand. "It's all right, honey, you didn't mean to."

"I wanted to see the Winnie the Pooh shoes," Tara explained. "They were on top."

"Maybe you should ask Xander to get them next time," Willow began. But Tara was already moving away, towards the display of shoes on the walls.

"Oh, look! They have Batgirl shoes. Can I have Batgirl shoes?"

"Don't ask *me*, Tara. Ask the fatherly-types with the credit card."

Tara ran over to Xander, who was trying to pretend he was interested in cheap work boots, and didn't really know the kid who'd made a mess of the display.

Willow watched as Tara tugged on Xander's arm, trying to get him to come look. She knocked them both into the stand-up 'sale sale sale' cardboard sign, which fell over with a soft *whomp*. Tara looked up at Xander, and there was that "Oops..." again. While Xander was busy picking up the sign, though, Tara was already tugging at Spike. "Come see, please. I want *these* shoes." Spike was still doing his molasses-walk, so Tara was practically hanging off his arm, dancing.

He transferred the aardvark-in-my-hand expression from Willow's purse, to Tara, but allowed her to drag him down the aisle. Which thought made Willow giggle again, as she tried to picture *anybody* managing to drag Spike down the aisle.

"Er, which ones?" Spike was saying, and Tara rolled her eyes.

"These-- right here!" She pointed at the ones that were several shelves above her and Willow's heads, and when Spike didn't immediately get the box down, Tara began to scramble up the shelf, climbing first onto the fitting stool, then the shelf proper.

"Um, Tara, maybe you shouldn't--" Willow started to say, before Tara looked questioningly back at her, slipped, and started to fall from the fourth shelf up.

She squealed loudly. Willow ran toward her, though what she thought she was going to be able to do, aside from have another four-year-old land on her head, was anybody's guess. Spike beat her to it by a mile, anyway, proving that his vampiric speed was still working when he *wanted* it to. He turned around with an armload of Tara, and they all three looked up to face Xander, who had raced down the aisle with a worried look on his face at the sound of Tara's shriek.

"That was a real scream, right? Not a found-my-bracelet-aren't-these-shoes-cute-isn't-it-a-pretty-day-outside-just-remembered-I-like-ice-cream scream. Wasn't it?"

"Yes," Willow replied, absently -- still staring in relieved amazement that Tara had almost fallen, almost really busted her head open, and was only not bleeding because they'd brought a vampire along with them. She was trying to get up on her tip-toes to see if Tara was really *really* all right, though from the sound of the babble, she guessed Tara was.

"Thanks, Spike, can you hold me up to reach those shoes? Aren't they cute? They have Batgirl on them -- real Batgirl, not new-replacement-fake-Batgirl. Aren't they cool?"

Spike seemed a bit disconcerted, as he shifted Tara so he was holding her - right-side-up - in front of him, from which she reached over for the shoes. "Er, Tara, you-- Yes, they're nice. But you--"

"Willow! Do you want a pair? We can match!" Tara leaned over Spike's arm, looking as though she'd over-balance and fall *again* to her head-splatting, if it weren't for the supernaturally strong grip on the back of her shirt. And around her middle -- apparently Spike was taking no chances.

Willow was about to scold her for scaring them all like that over *shoes*. Then she realized what Tara was talking about. "Batgirl! Those are *real* Batgirl shoes! Those haven't been out since the movie came out!!" She leapt forward and took the shoe from Tara. "Do they come in our size? What am I saying, of *course* they come in our sizes!" She held it up to Xander. "Two of these, please."

"That is so not fair," Xander muttered. "Do they make Batman shoes in my size? I don't *think* so."

Spike snorted at him. "Well, if you didn't have feet the size of the Batmobile, they might." Tara was squirming in his arms, and he set her down, after giving her another peculiar look.

"Excuse me, but why should the size of my feet have anything to do with my options in buying superhero footwear and Tara, where are you going?" Xander reached out and almost snagged Tara by the back of the shirt as she raced past all three of them, heading for the brightly colored display of purses and bags on the far wall. Willow blinked and followed, a bit more slowly, the boys right behind her.

Tara was pointing at the row of Powerpuff purses. "Look, they have the whole set. I can get the Bubbles one, since they didn't have it at Carsons. Then we'll really match." She giggled. "And I'll have a purse to make Xander carry."

Xander was looking fearfully at the bright electric blue purses. "Are you sure you don't want a nice, manly, leather briefcase, Tara?"

Tara put her hands on her hips, non-existent as they were -- and shook her head. "No, Xander. I want *that* one." She pointed.

Xander started to reach for the purse, and stopped. He looked at Spike. "Did we torture them this much?"

"Oh, yeah."

Xander sighed as Spike nodded. Then he brightened. "But only for two weeks! We're gonna owe *them* two weeks of torture, once this is over."

"You're assuming we'll survive?" Spike asked, then scowled at Willow. She blinked at him, shocked and hurt that he would dare suggest such a thing as that she would *ever* be misbehaved. Spike snorted. "Right. I think I'm becoming immune to that look, Red."

"Then why are you still holding my purse?" Willow asked.

"Er--" Spike stared at it, then shoved it at her. "Take it, then. I'm gonna go look at the...um... Actually, there's nothing here I would wear, dead or alive."

"These! You can wear these!" Tara came running up, holding a pair of bright yellow running shoes. Willow was impressed -- she hadn't even seen Tara leave to get them.

Spike stared at them in actual horror. He backed up slightly, still holding Willow's purse, and moved behind Xander. "Help me, Xan -- those things are *evil* !"

Xander snorted at him. "Spike, *you're* evil."

"Yeah, but there's evil and there's evil. Those're like... *Darla's* level of evil. Fact, I think she had a pair that color."

"Of running shoes?"

Spike just gave him a 'you're a twit' look -- though Willow noticed the vampire didn't move out from behind Xander.

Tara jumped up and down as she held out the shoes. "Come on, try 'em on, Spike. I bet you haven't bought shoes in a hundred years."

"These boots are from nineteen sixty-nine, I'll have you know," Spike protested.

"Yeah, but you didn't buy 'em, you stole 'em," Willow said. It was a guess, but the look on Spike's face proved her right.

"Wasn't like the fellow I took 'em from would be needing 'em anymore," Spike retorted. "Anyhow, they're perfectly fine, and I'm *not* trying on those lace-up bananas. They might be radioactive!"

Tara's eyes got, if possible, bigger than Spike's had been when *he* was four. Her lower lip stuck out, and even trembled a little. The whole picture might have been a bit more convincing if she hadn't still been bouncing, but Willow had to give her points for effort. Spike looked impressed, anyway. "If you *loved* me, you'd try them on," Tara said.

Spike laughed. "Who said I loved you?"

"But you *need* new shoes," Tara pointed out, skipping the chance to really go for the pitiful me routine. Maybe she was trying to get Spike and Xander off-balance, Willow thought.

Tara bent down and started unlacing Spike's boots. Spike stepped back, away from her. "I do *not* need new shoes. I don't need any, Xander doesn't need any, you don't need any, nobody needs *anything*--"

He stopped, because Tara was looking up at him, her face the very picture of shattered hurt. Willow could tell the second before she did it, that she was going to scream. Loudly.

Spike had his hand over her mouth a split-second later, but it didn't really help. Willow held her hands over her ears, and went over to give Spike a stern look. "You're going to buy us Batgirl shoes," she said clearly, knowing Spike's sensitive hearing was probably just ringing, right now. Spike nodded. "And Tara's Bubbles purse." Spike nodded again. "And the running shoes," she said.

"Fat chance," Spike mouthed at her.

"I want Batman shoes," Xander added.

"You can't even wear them!" Spike said, his hand still over Tara's mouth, though she'd begun to quiet down.

"Maybe the statue won't be completely out of power," Xander said with a shrug. "I'll have them just in case. Besides, they're on sale."

"Well, there is that. Sales are good. Anya likes it when we buy things on sale." Spike walked over to the boys' shoes racks, and grabbed a pair of the Batman shoes, while Willow laughed, not even bothering to suppress it. He still had his hand over Tara's mouth, and was dragging her along with him.

He finally had to remove his hand, in order to pull the Batman shoes out of the box and show them to Xander-- which was when Tara made her move. She held up the running shoes. "These are on sale too..." she said cheerfully, all trace of upset wiped from her face.

Willow could see the options being ticked off in Spike's head. Argue, and risk permanent eardrum damage if Tara decided to scream again. Say yes, buy them without trying them on, get yelled at by Anya when they got home, and stick them in a closet somewhere, forever. Or -- and she could see the light go on in his head -- possibly mail them to Angel.

He grabbed the shoes from Tara. "Fine. I'll buy 'em. Not *wearing* 'em, but I'll buy 'em." Willow thought it was a good choice. It wasn't as if he wouldn't end up getting yelled at by Anya for *something* anyway.

"You should try them on," Tara said.

Willow giggled as Spike sighed. She could see he was considering it all over again. Screaming Tara, or the mortification of wearing yellow shoes, even for a second. Xander didn't seem to be helping much, by laughing behind his hand. Spike gave him a death-to-infidels scowl, which made Xander stick his tongue out at him. Willow rolled her eyes; she'd seen this before. It usually lead to 'Why don't you two girls go watch TV, loudly, for a couple hours?'

"Try them on, Spike, come on," Tara repeated, oblivious to the fact that she was losing Spike's full attention.

"Tara, why don't we just get our shoes and your purse, and we can go try on every pair of overalls that Gymboree has?" Willow suggested.

"Oh! What about this one?" Tara dropped the shoes, and jumped over to grab something else. Willow watched her, slightly worried. Tara hadn't ever been this *flighty* as an adult, and hadn't said anything to make them think she had been as a child.

"Spike, remind me never ever to give Tara sugar, again," came a weary sigh from behind her.

"You think the ice cream was too much?"

"Well, no. But possibly the cotton candy."

"Nah-- that can't have much sugar in it-- it's mostly air, right?"

Xander looked doubtful. "Well... Yeah, but the part that's not air is all sugar. Or maybe it was the fudge?"

"Or the gummi bears," Willow offered, watching Tara bounce with another pair of shoes in her hand.

Spike turned to her. "We didn't buy you Gummi Bears!"

Xander looked sternly at her. "Where did you get the Gummi Bears, young lady?"

"A nice strange man gave them to us," she said brightly. At Xander's horrified look, she burst into laughter. "Dork-head. I bought them for her, from the gumball machine."

"They were good," Tara said. "Here, Spike, try these!"

Spike absently accepted the shoes from Tara, looking at her rather as if she were a suspicious package left on a seat in the airport-- might have somebody's tasty treats from Grandma in it, might be an unexploded bomb. Then he brightened. "Yeah, okay, I'll try these on."

Willow blinked, and looked to see what kind of shoes he was actually willing to consider. When she saw why he was trying them on, she laughed. They were black runners, with a small Tony the Tiger tastefully embroidered on the tongues, and a long striped tiger tail running all the way around to the back of the shoe.

By the time they'd purchased everybody's shoes and accessories and impulse-buy-at-the-counter-oh-please-can-we-get-those-glow-in-the-dark-laces, Xander and Spike were looking suitably broken in. Which meant it was time for the *real* shopping to start.

"JC Penney!" Tara sang as she pulled Spike along. He seemed to be too shell-shocked to actually answer. Or maybe it was the fact that he was still carrying Willow's purse, and he didn't want to draw any attention to himself. At least Xander now had a matching one, in electric-powder-blue, which Tara had insisted he take out of the bag and give to her -- only so she could rip the tags off and hand the thing back to him to hold.

He'd been holding it for almost two minutes before he'd pointed out there was no reason to carry it, since it was empty. That had got him pouted at until he'd pulled some change out of his pocket and put it in the purse. Willow wasn't sure Spike and Xander would *ever* learn. But it was fun driving them nuts, in the meantime.

They got to the department store, and Willow had to try to remember exactly where the kids' sections were. Second floor? First? She craned her head looking for a sign, and heard Tara saying, "Come on! It's this way."

She was tugging on Spike's hand, again, managing to pull him along through sheer willpower and enthusiasm. Spike looked a bit frightened, but Willow supposed it might have been the florescent lighting.

"I thought we were going to Gymboree?" Xander asked.

"JC Penney's is first," Willow told him. Silly men didn't get it -- they were on their way to Gymboree, which meant they had to stop every place along the way.

"Willow, you *do* know that...ah, hell with it. Fine." Xander sighed.

Willow gave his hand a tug. "Hurry up. And don't say 'hell' in front of me. I'm young and impressionable."

"Be nice, or I won't forge Anya's signature on the credit slip."

"I'll pout," Willow countered. They were slowly catching up to Tara and Spike -- but just barely. Willow reminded *herself* never to give Tara this much sugar...without Spike and Xander around to foist her off onto.

"I'll hold you upside down 'til you puke," came Xander's counter.

"Not in public, you won't. Cause I'll scream. And it'll hurt Spike's ears. And he'll glare at you." Which, come to think of it, wasn't much of an argument, since Spike glaring at him almost always ended happily for Xander, as far as she could tell. He seemed about to point this out, when Tara squealed.

"Willow! Look!" She was jumping up and down and pointing with her not-Spike-holding hand at a rack full of fuzzy footy pajamas. "They have glow in the dark witchy stuff on them!"

Willow came up close and looked at the pj's -- which came in blue, green, and yellow. Sure enough, they had little suns, moons, and stars on them in greenish glow-in-the-dark paint. She looked up at Xander. "We don't have any pj's, you know. Except for t-shirts."

"You said you didn't want any," he argued.

"Duh-- that was before we saw these!"

Tara was still bouncing up and down. "Let's go try them on!" She ran for the dressing rooms -- two steps, before she was being held by Spike, again.

"What part of 'slow down' don't you understand?" he asked, sounding a bit exasperated.

Tara wrinkled her forehead at him, as though thinking real hard. Then she smiled. "Spike, do you want to help us try them on?"

He let go of her as though she'd been doused in Holy Water. "Ugh! No, don't want to, thanks." He grabbed another set of pj's off the rack and held them out to Willow. "*You* keep an eye on her for a while."

Willow stuck her tongue out, knowing she was perfectly safe from making Spike think *those* kinds of thoughts. She took the pajamas and ran after Tara, who was already halfway to the dressing rooms. They'd give the boys a few minutes' respite, while they tried on the pj's, then they could go back out for round two. Or three. Willow caught up to Tara outside the dressing rooms, where Tara was trying to convince the salesclerk that they could try on clothes without parental supervision, thank you.

"Our dads are right outside the door, there," Willow said, pointing in the general direction of Xander and Spike, who were standing about in the women's underwear section, trying not to look suspicious. They'd better not think of picking out anything for Anya at JC Penney's, not a with a perfectly good Victoria's Secret just a few shops away. She'd kill them.

Willow shrugged and followed Tara into one of the little curtained changing rooms, ignoring the dubious look the salesclerk had given them. Willow was about to help Tara off with her shirt -- or rather, Willow's shirt -- when she felt a hand on her arm. She looked up to see the salesclerk, who had her other hand on Tara's arm. "Shh, honey. Come with me, quick."

Before Willow could think enough to say 'What the hell are you doing?' or try to come up with a four-year-old version of the phrase, the woman was hauling them out of the dressing room and out a side door, marked 'Staff Only'. "Hey, let go of me..." she said as they were pulled through a dark storage area. The woman, who, now that Willow looked at her, wasn't wearing any kind of uniform or nametag at all, bent close to her.

"Just be quiet, little girl, or you'll be sorry-- and so will your friend," she hissed in Willow's ear. Then they were being pulled out into the store proper, quite a ways away from the women's clothing section. Willow and Tara both struggled; Willow tried to think of a spell that would turn this woman into a mushroom or something.

"Let us go!" Tara shouted. "Help, we're being kidnapped!"

The woman stopped, and bent down to threaten them again -- Willow glared at her, knowing that in about two more seconds Spike and Xander would be there to rip her entrails out.

"What's going on?" came a voice from behind them -- male, but not Spike nor Xander. Willow twisted around in the woman's grasp, to try to explain, but the woman spoke first.

"Oh, sir, you have to help me! My ex-husband kidnapped my two babies and I've only just found them. You have to help me get away!"

Willow turned her glare on the woman. "You are *not* our mother! Help! Help, daddy!" she screamed.

"What the *bloody* hell is going on, here?" she heard a familiarly accented voice barking.

Willow was grabbed suddenly, and she found Xander behind her, on his knees with his arms wrapped around her. Spike had done the same with Tara, only he'd been able to get her out of the woman's grip.

"Who the fuck are you and what are you doing?" Xander demanded.

"Please, help me!" the woman said to the JC Penney's employee who'd stopped her, retaining her hold on Willow's arm. Until Willow bit her. She let go of Willow with a small shriek, and Willow found herself folded in Xander's arms. After a moment of rubbing her hand, the woman knelt down. "I know you don't remember me, sweetie. It's been a long time. But I really am your mom."

"You're crazy!" Willow said loudly. "You're not our mother."

The Penney's clerk was looking more and more worried and confused, and reached over to the red courtesy phone near them, calling for a manager. Xander was sputtering at the woman. "Who *are* you? I've never seen you before in my life, and you're certainly not their mother."

"And if you ever lay a finger on either one of 'em again, I'll happily rip it off at the shoulder," Spike growled.

After a few minutes of the two men fussing over Willow and Tara, and the woman still insisting insanely that they belonged to her, the manager showed up. He brought along a security guard, just to make the party complete. Willow was torn between wanting Xander and Spike to get them out of there as fast as possible -- because being almost-kidnapped was still way too scary, even now that she was safe in her best friend's arms -- and finding out what on earth was going on.

That was what the manager wanted to know, too. "Somebody start explaining now, please. *Before* I decide whether we need to call the police."

"Fine, call the police!" the woman said, sounding desperate. "They can arrest Alex for kidnapping!"

Willow looked up at Xander, to find him exchanging a confused look with Spike. Had this woman mistaken them for someone else? Surely if Xander *had* two kids, he'd have mentioned it? Even if they weren't her and Tara.... Willow shook her head, and kept quiet while the store manager tried to calm their would-be-kidnapper down.

"Look, no one is going anywhere with these two children until we know who they belong to," he was saying.

"They belong to us!" Xander snapped. "They're ours -- they do *not* belong to her. We don't even *know* her." Willow, Tara, and Spike all glared at the woman, with nearly identical expressions of 'so there'.

"Can I have your names, please? And some identification?" the manager asked.

"Xander and William Harris," Xander said promptly, indicating himself and Spike. He hauled his wallet out of his jeans, without loosening his hold on Willow. "These are Willow and Tara Harris."

The managed took the license Xander handed him, and studied it carefully. Then he stammered, "And who...that is, which of you is the... um... natural father?"

What happened next was a bit breathtaking for Willow-- because she'd thought only she and Tara could do the 'read each other's minds without actually wasting the magical energy to do *real* telepathy' thing. She'd never expected that in a real emergency, Xander and Spike were capable of it as well.

Xander gave Spike one quick look, and Spike lifted Tara all the way up and settled her on his hip. Proudly. As if he really *would* have tried on the yellow running shoes, if Tara had just pouted for a few more seconds. "Willow's mine, and Tara is William's," Xander explained.

"They're the same age. They look like twins to you?" Spike raised one eyebrow at the man, as if encouraging him to see the obvious-- which wasn't true, of course, but looked pretty good. Tara and Spike had the same colouring, down to Spike's not-yet-re-bleached waves.

"Of course they're twins," the woman said. "And Alex is their father. *He* is just the man who helped my ex-husband kidnap our children."

"Your ex-what?" Xander said, at the same time as Spike was saying, "Excuse me? If I'm gonna be accused of a crime, I'd like to have had the pleasure of committing it!"

"Can either of you prove any of this?" was the manager's next question.

The woman promptly pulled out some papers from her purse. Willow couldn't imagine what they were -- nor how Xander and Spike could prove she and Tara belonged to them. Since they didn't, really. The woman handed the papers over. "I've been searching for so long...I carry these with me, in case...I've been hoping to find them...." She broke down, then, sobbing brokenly for a moment. The salesclerk awkwardly reached over to pat her shoulder, while the manager read the papers.

"A marriage license for one Debbie and Alex Harris. Birth certificate for twin girls, Willow and Tara Harris." He glanced over at Xander and Spike.

"Those are fake," Xander insisted. "Willow and Tara's mothers... They were together, and wanted kids. William and I agreed to be the fathers. When Elisabeth and Dawn were killed a couple years ago, William and I got custody." Willow stifled a laugh at their 'mothers' names, and looked suitably woe-be-gone at being reminded of her moms' deaths. Xander never *used* to think this fast when they were trying to get out of trouble. Maybe Spike was actually a good influence on him -- by getting him into trouble more often, so he could practice.

"I miss my mommies," Tara said quietly. She had her arms around Spike's neck, looking as though she might have been choking him, if Spike had had to breathe.

Willow could tell the store manager didn't know who to believe. Despite the faked certificates, it was obvious she and Tara didn't know and didn't like this woman claiming to be their mother. And who *was* she? Where had she gotten that paperwork, and why? Those were questions to be answered not in the middle of a store, where crowds might gather, and police might come, and they all might have to deal with the fact that Spike didn't actually possess any ID of his own, as far as Willow knew.

"Look, my husband-- ex-husband, has had the girls for two years. He's obviously told them all sorts of lies, just in case I ever managed to find them. They were *two* when they last saw me, and they don't remember me. It doesn't make any more sense that they'd remember these imaginary women who died that long ago, either."

Willow saw Spike frown slightly, as if thinking, then he gave another of those brief telepathic looks to Xander. Or, more specifically, at Xander's wallet. Xander opened it again, also frowning, then smiled, as he thumbed through its contents. He pulled a picture from one of the little plastic sleeves, and handed it over to the manager.

"*These* are the girls' mothers," he said, with a fond little smile that Willow was going to have to give him a kiss for, sometime later. Because the picture he had handed over was one of her and Tara. Adult her and Tara, sitting in the magic shop, no more than a week ago, leaning against each other and smiling.

He didn't try to explain who the two boys were in the background, holding something which looked like a big water balloon. It reminded her *why* she maybe wouldn't give him a kiss, later. The manager dutifully took the picture and compared the images to her and Tara.

"They do look very much like these women," he allowed. Well, duh, Willow wanted to say.

"That's a photo of my sisters," the woman explained. "He must have stolen it."

Willow stared at her. She was *way* too prepared for this. Willow tightened her grip on Xander's arm, which in turn made him tighten *his* grip. It made her feel safer, knowing that nothing would wrestle her away from him, nor Tara from Spike. "She knows who we are," she whispered to Xander. He gave her a blank look, then his eyes cleared and he nodded.

"The statue?" he whispered back.

She mouthed the word 'later' to him, then turned back to the store manager. They had to get out of this, first, so they could go back to the Magic Box and figure out what was going on. Preferably after they'd also bought the glow-in-the-dark pj's.

"Could I see some ID, Mr. Harris?" the manager asked, of Spike. Willow didn't have to be telepathic to hear the collective 'Oh, shit' that was ringing in the minds of the 'Harris' party.

"Don't carry it," Spike said fairly smoothly. "Don't drive. House husband, so I don't need it for work."

Well, the part about not driving was true, if it was supposed to be a rating of how good he was at it. Willow had to stifle more than one giggle at the image of Spike in an apron, being a house husband, though. "Daddy stays home with us, and Papa goes out and builds big houses. All by himself," she said helpfully.

"Well, with a little help from a crane, a wrecking ball, and an entire construction crew," Xander said, playing along.

The woman shook her head. "*He*" -- pointing at Spike -- "doesn't even have a green card, which I'm sure the INS would be happy to hear."

The manager put up his hands. "I think *I've* heard enough. I have no idea which one of you is telling the truth, and this is way too complicated for store security to sort out. I'm calling the police, and social services, and *they* can deal with this." As if suddenly realizing what he did for a living, he added, "I hope this doesn't ruin your shopping experience. Er, whichever set of you doesn't end up being arrested."

"Oh, thank you," the woman said, with loud, apparent gratitude. Spike and Xander only glared.

"You're a bad lady! I don't like you!" Tara yelled at the woman, who responded with such a perfect expression of heartbreak that Willow wondered if she were a professional actress, or actually insane.

It didn't look as though they were going to learn anything more from her, and the longer they stayed the more chance there was of the police arriving in time to make things harder. Willow wriggled her fingers and chanted a spell, and the woman, store manager, security guard and clerk, all froze. After a moment's concentration and a muttered acknowledgement of the fact that yes, she owed a minor goddess of theft a major favor, a security camera tape appeared in her hand.

There was silence for a moment. Then, "Er, Red, why didn't you do that earlier?"

"I wanted to know who she was, so we can find out who's behind all this," she explained. "But it will only hold for a few minutes, so we should--"

"Already escaping," Xander said, standing up and hurrying away. Spike was on his heels, with Tara in his arms, who was again leaning sideways to catch up the two pair of pajamas.

Spike wrestled them out of her hands. "Calm down," he said when she started to pout. "I'm not leaving them behind. Just have to--" and he crushed the theft-detection devices.

"So *that's* how you do it!" Willow exclaimed.

"Yeah, and if you ever tell anyone," he looked around. "Er, um, I'll probably be spanked. Tell anyone you like. Tell Buffy!"

Xander whapped him on the head, and they continued out of the store, moving quickly but as inconspicuously as possible. As they exited the store into the mall proper, he said, "We'd better get out of here before the cops shut down all the exits, again." He looked over his shoulder. "You realize this is *another* store we can never come back to?"

Willow looked at him closely. "What do you mean 'again'?"

He turned bright red. "Um, there might have been some nakedswimminginthefountain. Last year. But I was under the influence, dammit."

"Influence of what-- naked Spike?" Willow retorted as he carried her swiftly towards the exit to the parking garage.

Xander glared at Spike. "Pixie dust."

"Uh-huh. Sure." Then Willow blinked. "Wait, Spike knows where to get pixie dust?" Neither of them would answer, but Spike was still snickering by the time they found the car.

"Spike, get in the trunk," Xander said, and he made it sound like a punishment rather than a 'so you don't turn into ashes.'

"Nope. Sitting in the backseat with a blanket over my head."

"Can you stay that way always?" Xander asked.

"In the back seat?"

"With a blanket over your head."

Spike whapped him, and Xander glared, and Willow gave Tara a smile. "Isn't love grand?"

*****
Part 13:

They were all seated around the table at the Magic Box, with the phone in the center. Books were scattered about, and Willow was sitting at the laptop, still typing away. Tara listened as Giles explained the last of what they knew to Angel and the rest of the LA group over the speaker phone. She yawned.

"Yes, that's right. Willow's looking through the police mugshot databases now, and she's set up a program to search the internet for any sort of picture of this woman, as well. We've no idea if we'll find anything that way, since she may never have been in trouble with the law, but every bit helps."

Tara could hear Cordelia's voice saying something in the background, then Angel came over the speaker, much more clearly. "Do you think we should come back down there, all of us?"

"Eggzinabasket," Tara murmured. Anya looked at her.

"What did you say?"

Tara blinked, and sat up straight in her chair. "Sorry. Um. Eggs. Basket. If they're there and we're here, we've got lots of people in different places." Anya was still looking bewildered. Well, it made perfect sense to *Tara*. Then again, so did a lot of things that got that look from everyone except Willow.

"Tara means, if whoever was behind this tries to do something to us again, it's better that we're not all in one place, where they can strike at us all at once," Willow called from the computer.

Yeah. That's what she'd meant. Tara yawned again.

"Finally coming down from your sugar rush, sweetie?" Willow asked. Tara nodded, and opened her eyes again. She hadn't realized she'd closed them.

"Yes, the sugar rush you two inflicted on her," came Anya's accusation. Tara didn't have to look over to know she was scolding Spike and Xander.

"Hey! *Willow* gave her the Gummi Bears!" Xander protested.

"I did not!" came Willow's protest, and Tara looked at her, confused. Willow winked, and went back to her typing.

"You did so!" Xander began.

"Children! Please!"

Everyone stopped, and stared. Tara giggled. "That's so funny, when you say that. I mean now. Since you're a kid, too," she told Giles.

"Yes, and I'm a child who would like to prevent the world from ending, or whatever plot it is that's the point of all this."

"I don't think it's another apocalypse," Buffy said. "Usually we get a memo when it's an apocalypse, and we didn't get one this time. Must be something else."

Tara gave Buffy a confused look, but Buffy didn't see it, and no one else was asking her to explain. Tara yawned again, and wondered if there was a good spot she could lie down. She saw one, and crawled down from the chair and walked over. It took a moment of tugging, but Spike finally sat down on the floor, cross-legged, so Tara could curl up on his lap.

Angel had said something, but Tara missed what it was. She heard Spike's answer, though, which was, "Looked pretty real. Somebody's got some connections, to pull off that many fake docs. Think it's your friends, the evil ambulance chasers?"

"They've been pretty quiet lately, but it's a possibility," Angel said.

Xander was shaking his head, Tara noticed between slow blinks. "Yeah, maybe. But that stuff wouldn't have mattered much, after a couple of weeks when the girls get big again. We could always have just kidnapped them back and stashed them somewhere until we could do the restoration spell. It was more like this woman was trying to get us in as much trouble as possible, right there and then. She knew Spike wouldn't have any ID, which could *really* have screwed up our lives royally. Speaking of which, *Dad* -- think you can do something about that? I know you've got kennel club papers. Can you get some for Spike?"

There was no immediate response. Then Tara heard Angel stammering, "Xander, I'd rather you called me 'Deadboy'." Then he sighed. "But yes, I can get Spike some ID. Probably take a couple days, so until then try to stay out of trouble."

"Oi! I always try to stay out of trouble." Tara opened her eyes, again wondering when she'd closed them, and found everyone staring at Spike. "Well, I didn't say I was very good at it."

She giggled, and shifted a little, trying to get comfortable. This time she *meant* to close her eyes, and she listened to the conversation. It felt weird, being held by a room-temperature body with no heartbeat. Nothing at all like snuggling with Willow, or like her memories of being held by her mother, when she'd really been four. But it was nice, in its own way, if primarily because she knew everyone else in the room was snickering at how easily Spike was accommodating her. That would teach him to use her favorite sweater as a superhero cape.

"It's odd, though," she heard Angel's voice again. "Wolfram and Hart have never bothered Sunnydale before. Why would they start now?"

"That we know of," Buffy corrected. "Who knows what else they've been doing?"

"Still, we should look into the other possibilities," Giles said. "It could be anything."

"Biker Mice," Tara said.

"What's that?" Spike asked her, his voice quiet.

"From Mars," she explained. "Biker Mice from Mars."

"What's she saying?" Xander asked.

"Don't think it's helpful, Xan." Spike replied.

"Couldn't be much less helpful than 'it could be anything' " Dawn pointed out. "No offense, Giles."

"Well, if you have any suggestions, I'm sure we'd all be happy to hear them," Giles said in his funny, stuffy, preschooler voice. Tara giggled.

Dawn shrugged. "No, not really. Um... we could make a list of everyone who's ever tried to mess with us, and isn't dead."

"Oi!" Spike said, startlingly loud in Tara's ear. She jerked a little, and tried to tell him to shut up and let her sleep, without actually expending the energy to open her mouth. Didn't work. "Dead people can mess with you just fine, you know. I've done it, on numerous occasions."

"Okay, fine, deceased weirdo. Everybody who's ever messed with us and is still out there roaming around somewhere. I mean, they seemed to know a lot about us, or at least some of us-- so it wasn't just random Hellmouth badness."

"Not unless the random Hellmouth badness is getting much better organized," Giles observed. Tara giggled again. She felt something brush her nose, and she pried one eye open. She found Spike diverting his gaze away from her face.

"Do you really wanna make that list? We'll be here all night," Buffy said.

"Should we narrow it down to people who have been in Brussels recently? Since that was where it was last seen, albeit in the 17th century. We don't know where it was shipped from -- it wasn't on the packing manifest."

"Like who?"

Tara closed her eyes again, and a moment later felt the same sensation of something brushing her nose. She opened her eyes and found Spike watching the planning meeting with great interest.

"Like...well, no one I know of," Willow admitted. "This stupid website won't give me any information!" She thumped the keyboard, then muttered something Tara didn't know she knew how to pronounce.

"If you turn the laptop into a salamander, it won't give you *any* information," Giles pointed out.

"What are we looking for? I can help," came Cordelia's voice over the phone.

"The usual - hotel reservations, airplane reservations. Anything. Look for a name you recognize," Willow replied, and Tara thought that maybe she wasn't the only one who needed a nap.

"That could take days!" Cordelia protested.

"Well, if anyone can come up with something better...." Willow repeated Giles' words.

"I have one," Xander spoke up. Tara prised one eye open again. Everyone was looking at Xander expectantly, and with varying degrees of surprise.

"Anya can do some of the web-surfing, as can Cordy. You," he had gone over to Willow, and was picking her up, "need a nap."

"I do n--" Willow started to say, then she looked over at Tara, who smiled sleepily. "Sure. Why not."

Xander moved to sit beside Spike, and settled Willow in his lap. Tara squirmed around in Spike's arms until she could lean against both Spike's chest, and Willow's shoulder, then shut her eyes again, perfectly content. She heard several people chuckling, but she couldn't imagine what could possibly be funny.

Then there was Giles' voice saying "Oh, someone *must* get a picture of *that*."

Tara didn't particularly care what they got pictures of, as long as no one tried to make her move from where she was, to do it. She wondered if they could get Anya to make more brownies, after the meeting was over. Then she fell fast asleep.

*****