Willow Rosenberg snuggled down into bed, yawning and looking ready to sleep. Tara Maclay looked over from where she stood in the doorway, turning the lock, and couldn't help smiling. Willow always looked so adorable when she was sleepy. Tara padded over to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning down to kiss Willow's forehead. "Tell me a story?" Willow requested, her eyes already half-closed.

Tara gave a lopsided grin. "What kinda story do you want hear, baby?" she asked, sliding under the covers next to Willow.

Willow snuggled against Tara, resting her head on the blonde girl's shoulder. "Something with magic in it," she answered.

"Magic, hmm? That should be an easy one," Tara answered, wrapping her arms around the redhead, who sighed happily. "Let's see....

"Once upon a time, there was a little mouse. He wanted to be a sorcerer when he grew up, so it was arranged for him to study with a master magician. As hard as the mouse tried, though, he could only control little spells, and his master refused to let the mouse try anything bigger than floating apples and scrolls and pencils."

"Poor little mouse," Willow remarked.

"Yes, but over time the little mouse began to think that his master's powers came from a magical object, a hat actually," Tara continued. "One night, the mouse had to stay up to finish his tasks for the master magician, and he watched as the master set this hat up before he retired for the night. He told the mouse to finish up his task and go to bed, and they would work more on the floating spells in the morning.

"No sooner than the master was out of sight, the mouse climbed up to where the hat was kept. He knew he shouldn't, but he had to give it a little try, so he put the hat on. Ow! Something poked him on the top of the head, and he took the hat off. Peering inside it, he found his master's wand! How had that gotten in there, the little mouse wondered. No matter, he wanted to be like his master, and so he took the wand in hand (or, paw) and replaced the hat onto his head.

"Now, what spell could he do? Something that would help him and prove that he could control bigger magics." Willow nodded sleepily. That sounded like a good enough idea. "Here, he found a spell that could animate objects, and then he could command the objects to do his chores for him! That was perfect, the little mouse thought happily. Now what could he cast this spell on? There, in the corner! A broom! It was about right, the mouse mused, and so he pointed the wand at the broom and spoke the command word. The broom jumped as the magic took effect, and to the mouse's surprised pleasure, it grew arms! Now it could not just do the floor, but it could carry water from the well for him, too!"

Tara paused to take a drink of water from the table next to the bed before continuing. "He watched over the broom as it cleaned the floor, and then gave the broom instructions to bring in water from the well. The first few times the broom went out, the mouse went with it to make sure it was doing everything right. After this, he was satisfied that nothing would go wrong, and so he busied himself with creating illusions for his amusement.

"After a while, the mouse started to get tired. He was using a lot of energy to keep the broom going, and hadn't realized he was working as hard on the illusions as he was. He dozed off, the master's wand in his hand and the master's hat on his head. While the mouse dreamed, the broom continued to work, but without supervision the broom didn't know when it was supposed to stop working and go back to being a broom again."

Willow yawned and snuggled even closer to Tara. "What a bad mouse ... no wonder his master didn't let him do anything," she commented.

"That's right, the master wizard knew what he was doing all along," Tara agreed, gently stroking Willow's hair. "After a while, the mouse got woken up because his feet were wet and cold. Oh no! The floor was covered in water! The broom must have kept working, the poor mouse realized. It was only then that he realized that he didn't know how to dispel the magics he had worked. In a panic, he tried to dispel the magic, but he couldn't concentrate and so it didn't work. Well, he would just have to do things the old fashioned way! The mouse took an ax and chopped the broom up into tiny bits. He started to mop the water up, hoping that in the morning his master wouldn't notice anything was amiss. But because the magic had not been dispelled, all the bits of the broom began to come back to life and continue with the task that it had been commanded to do. Before the mouse realized it, he had a whole army of brooms, but he couldn't get a clear enough head to get them to stop."

"Uh oh," Willow squeaked.

"The poor mouse was pretty frantic now, trying to clean up the mess and the water, and make the brooms stop what they were doing. The master must have heard all the noise, because he came down from his tower and saw what his apprentice had done. With one word and a gesture, the army of brooms fell still, now nothing more than brooms again. The mouse tried to hide the wand and the hat, but it was too late. The master sorcerer called the mouse to him, and the apprentice sheepishly handed over the wand and hat. The master put them up where they had been kept, now sure that the silly little mouse would not try to use them again." Tara looked down to see Willow's sleepy face. "You see, the sorcerer's power came from within. The hat and the wand were only used to focus the power. And the mouse had power of his own, but it would take time for him to master it. Now he would follow whatever the master sorcerer told him, because he had learned an important lesson that night."

Willow nodded, solemn but tired. "Good story," she said.

"I've always liked it," Tara agreed, blowing a kiss to Willow as she leaned away to turn the light out. Willow smiled and giggled a little. Tara settled back into the bed, pulling Willow close and kissing her forehead again. Willow kissed Tara on the cheek and sighed peacefully, closing her eyes.

"I love you, Tare-Bear."

"I love you too, my Willow. Sweet dreams."

*****

"You mean she told you a story about Mickey Mouse!?" the little boy squeaked with disbelief.

"Yes, she told me a story about Mickey Mouse," Willow confirmed. "And it was good enough for me, so I don't see why you're complaining," she said in a loving tease.

The child huffed. "Mommmyyy. I want a story I don't already know!"

Tara peeked into the room's doorway, a joyful smile on her face as she watched Willow trying to put their son to bed. Try being the operative word. She stayed silent though, because neither of them had seen her yet.

Willow smoothed back the boy's hair. "Sometimes the stories you already know are the ones that have the most to tell you." She leaned down and kissed the boy gently on his chubby four-year-old cheek. "I love you, Brian. Sweet dreams."

"I love you too, Mommy. And Mamma!" The boy pointed to the doorway with a triumphant grin, having spotted Tara.

"I love you too, Brian," Tara smiled, blowing the boy a kiss.

"No, I want a real one," he demanded.

Tara rushed over to Brian's bed, kneeling to cover the giggling boy with kisses. "Now, are you gonna be a good boy and go to sleep?" she asked him. The child nodded solemnly in reply, looking so much like Willow.

"You go to sleep, too!" the boy said. "I love you!!"

Willow and Tara left the room, shutting off the light and making sure the night-light came on. Willow peeked back into the room, leaving the door partially open. "We love you, sweet dreams, Brian," she whispered.