LonelyTara: Will I ever get
anything past you! You nailed my "Fried Green Tomatoes" reference before I even got to write it! As for further research, you can rest assured that further explorations in time and space will be made!
Wimpy: Bettina, Tara's champion, has just begun to fight! No drool research but science will make further
advances. Plus, your drool icon is unbelievable - I'm almost tempted to write more 'research' just to see it again!
KioNewgo: Glad to have you back! Definitely missed you and I'm glad that you're a supporter of both science
and blanket monsters! Thanks for writing!
Laragh: I just got that you're "Close Quarters" Laragh, author of one of my favorites. With a woo and a hoo on that one - thanks for writing! (Yes, I know the fic title is under your name, but I'm not the brightest bulb in the chandalier, okay!)
Lonelylanding: Elizabeth is only 4, her mother lied about her age to get rid of her for a month but I can't fault the kid's taste! Thanks for the props!
Cyteach: So you think Willow's a vixen, eh? Well, you and LonelyTara are basically killing any chance I have of building suspense, but that's okay lol! Seriously, glad you're reading and commenting - always appreciate it!
Vampyregurl: I haven't put your number on because to me you're the one and only! Love that line, "I may have been born at night, but I wasn't born last night." You remind me of the old style movie divas who had wit and panache to burn. Love your comments!
xlaurax1: Stay tuned, Bettina the Avenger uncorks a unique brand of violence, coming right up! In addition, the frontiers of science will be expanded as Willow goes 'undercover'.
Willowtaralover: You're right about Queen C (can't I get anything past anyone!) and cabin against cabin warfare has not been ruled out. Thanks for your unfailing support and kind words!
Shel/Finey McFine: Thanks again for more horse-happy goodness from your gold mine of camp info and for your fondness for 'research'!
Title: How I met your mother*
Author: Ariel
Email:
blaziak@yahoo.com
Feedback: All feedback welcomed, specific input appreciated.
Rating: PG-13 for more advanced cuddles & naughty words, ratings will change for later chapters
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but I love to take them for a ride!
Summary: A/U before season 1, the summer after Willow's freshman year with a large dose of Queen Cordelia at her bitchy best and teen-aged angst.
Special Thanks again to new kitten and new writer, Finey McFine for more horse camp info.
*no connection to the sit-com of the same name
Thoughts are in italics.
Part 8: The First Day
Tara flexed her fingers and gave her hands a shake to restore circulation as she and Willow walked their kids to breakfast. “I th-think I tied f-four hundred and sixteen br-braids and brushed a mile’s worth of hair.”
Willow looked around at the mostly braided heads of their girls and nodded. “We should’ve gone to Beauty College instead of orientation for this job!”
Tara grinned and slid her arm around Willow’s waist and got a returning squeeze as they walked together.
At the breakfast buffet line, Willow stood at the front of their line of campers and Tara was in the back. A curvy girl with black wavy hair and large dark eyes wore a kitchen apron over her tank top and was ladling out runny scrambled eggs. “Fresh yellow goo, straight from the chicken’s ass!”
Willow felt her appetite for eggs disappear. She glared at the girl who gave her a lopsided grin, “what’s the matter, Red? Cantcha take a joke?”
Willow decided not to answer and just moved along the line to collect toast, potatoes, and sausage as well as some fresh fruit and orange juice. She set her food down at the table and hurried back to help the girls ferry their food over. She and Tara sat across the table and a few kids apart from each other so that they could keep an eye on everyone while they talked.
Debbie stared curiously at Towanda, “so what kinda name is Towanda?”
Devola jumped in eagerly, “it’s in Tarzan, I think it’s one of the apes!”
“It does kinda sounds like jungle drums,” Lisa said musingly.
“Nope.” Towanda was smug. “My mom read a book when she was having me and she went crazy and divorced my dad and now she married the girl mail man and we fry tomatoes a lot.”
“Wow!” Devola was impressed, “that sounds like a great book!”
Towanda looked at Devola, “your name is kinda weird, too!”
Devola nodded, “Yeah and I don’t really know where it came from. I think my Mom’s crazy, too, because she named me ‘Devola’ and my brother ‘Crayola’.” She saw the other girls’ eyes widen, then she cracked up laughing, “Got ya! You believed me!”
Towanda folded her arms, “did not!”
“Did too!”
A moment later the microphone gave a familiar squeal and Mrs. Finch announced the counselors' meeting in a corner of the dining hall. Willow stood up with Tara and brought her orange juice to the circle of chairs. As counselors and junior counselors sat down, adult staff monitored the children’s tables.
Mrs. Finch smiled at the close circle of faces. “First day, this is it! The most demanding activities are the swimming and riding programs since they require skills testing and documentation. We’ve split all the girls into groups that will spend a little less than ninety minutes together. There will be a crafts group, a riding group, an outdoor games group, an indoor games group, and a swimming group with 16 to 18 girls in each group. We’ll rotate them through each group today and the riding and swimming program leaders will set up the skill levels for their programs.”
Willow raised her hand, “what about the computer lab, Mrs. Finch? I’m supposed to open it up for e-mails tonight after dinner.”
“I think we can let that go, Willow. You have your hands full with your riding program duties.”
Willow slumped in disappointment and Tara raised her hand. “I c-can take our k-kids after dinner so W-willow can do the lab.” Jules, the big girl with the butch haircut spoke up, “Bring your girls over to our cabin and we’ll do big girl/little girl games together. My girls will feel important and your kids will think that they’ve hit the big time.”
Mrs. Finch nodded, “all right, then, we open the computer lab tonight”
Willow gave a happy bounce in her seat, flashed a grateful smile to Tara and Jules then began gulping down her orange juice.
Mrs. Finch cleared her throat for attention and turned to Cordelia. “Craft time is important, especially for the younger children. It gives them a routine, a chance to make something tangible to keep at camp. You’ll be stringing macaroni and a variety of other interestingly shaped pasta into lovely necklaces.” She passed Cordelia a box of Kleenex. “There’s always some weepy ones for the first day or two, so be prepared.” Cordelia caught Willow’s eye and glared murderously while Willow’s start at a laugh turned into choking on her orange juice until it began coming out her nose. Willow hacked, coughed and sneezed but finally came up grinning. She had spewed orange juice over herself and Tara, nearly choked, and had tears in her eyes but she knew that today was going to be a very good day.
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Lawanna offered to take their kids to the crafts workshop while Tara and Willow dashed back to change their shirts before their first group of riders showed up.
As usual Tara shucked off her shirt matter-of-factly, but then she sat on her bed, bunching and unbunching the shirt in her hands.
Willow sat beside her and put an arm around Tara’s waist. “You’ll do great, Tara. I know you will I mean it could go bad but I don’t think it will. Hey, we lived through the presentation when we thought we’d die of embarrass-y badness—“ Tara suddenly hugged her tight and Willow returned the hug, loving the feeling of Tara’s soft skin as she ran her hands along Tara’s back. She blushed and looked up as Tara blushed and looked down at her.
Tara smiled and gave her another hug. “W-we’ll be okay if we st-stick together.”
Their gazes locked and there was suddenly something golden in the air between them. Tara stood slowly and reached a hand down to raise Willow to her feet then footsteps pounded across the wooden porch of their cabin and Lawanna’s JC, Hallie ran in. “Hey, move it or lose it! You’ve got your first group waiting for you!”
The magic was broken and Tara jerked a shirt over her head. Then they both ran out the door and down to the stables.
They greeted their first camper group with their arms around each other’s waists and then they got the girls up on the horses to test their skill level. Willow was still extremely frightened of the horses so she took charge of handing out and fastening helmets, doing all the writing, and telling the girls where to stand while Tara led the horses and assisted with mounting and dismounting.
While they were waiting for their next camper group, Tara hugged her from behind and Willow took a half step back, snuggling closer. She felt Tara’s arms tighten the embrace and she felt Tara’s breasts, soft and warm against her back. She sighed, smiling happily.
All day long it was like that. Small touches, lingering glances, smiles that spoke a language just for them while on the surface they tested, instructed, documented and sorted the girls into skills groups.
Finally the lunch bell rang and they walked hand in hand to the dining hall.
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Meanwhile, their kids were first with Cordelia and Mrs. Gidden at the craft shop as they strung their pasta necklaces and experimented with paint, glue and glitter. Bettina sat next to Cordelia so she could see her face and was bent over her project, trying to decide if she should keep the same pattern or just put on what she felt like. Finally a hand slammed down nearby and she jumped, looking up into Cordelia’s angry eyes. “Pass the scissors! This is the third time I’ve asked you for them!” Bettina blushed then handed the scissors to Cordelia who greeted the gesture with a glare and mumbled, “Just like that stupid bitch, Tara!” under her breath. Suddenly Bettina jumped up on her chair, crawled up on the table, covered the few feet between them and flung herself on top of Cordelia, knocking the teenager to the floor, chair and all. “No! You’re a bitch, not Tara! You are! You are!”
Cordelia gave a strangled scream of genuine fear. Bettina was doing her best to stuff her necklace up Cordelia’s nose one pasta piece at a time. Fortunately Mrs. Gidden was able to pull Bettina off and hold her while an older camper ran to get Mrs. Finch.
As Willow and Tara walked into the dining hall, they were instructed to meet Mrs. Finch in her office. They groaned, they were tired and hungry but knew better than to argue as they walked out of the dining hall and into Mrs. Finch’s office.
“Well, here she is!” Mrs. Finch pointed at Bettina who sat hunched on a chair facing the corner. “She called Cordelia an unmentionable name and physically attacked her too! Then she lied about it, claiming Cordelia said something first that no one else in the room heard.” She glared down at the little girl who ignored her, “and she doesn’t even have the decency to care!” She looked pointedly at Bettina. “Well, what have you got to say for yourself?” Bettina continued to ignore her.
Tara and Willow knelt down on either side of her, Bettina turned and stared into Tara’s face then started to cry. “She called you a stupid bitch, I had to fight her! Please don’t hate me!” She looked intently into Tara’s face.
“I d-don’t h-hate you. You’re one of our k-kids. T-tell me what’s wrong.”
Then Bettina looked directly into Tara’s face, her voice oddly flat. “I’m almost deaf. I can hear stuff but not all of it.” She looked down swinging her feet. “I need you to uh, I need uh.” Tara put her hand on the girl’s shoulder and Bettina looked back up at Tara.
“T-tell me.”
Bettina looked confused for a minute as if unsure of Tara’s meaning, but tried again. “I need you to talk slow and make sure I can see you. I can lip read pretty good, but I have to see faces to do it. That’s how I knew what Cordelia said, I saw her.”
Tara nodded, then blushed. “B-bettina. S-sometimes I stutter and it m-might be hard to r-read my lips. S-sometimes I don’t talk very well.”
Bettina gave her a fierce hug, then looked up again. “That’s okay, Tara,” she said softly, “Sometimes I don’t listen very well.”
Tara kissed her on the top of her head and smiled as the girl met her eyes. “Then we’ll both h-help each other.”
Bettina nodded happily and gave her another strangling hug. “I didn’t want to wear my hearing aid because it’s big and clunky and sometimes kids laugh.”
Tara nodded, “but we like you and w-want you to h-have fun and you’ll have more f-fun if you h-hear better. Will you wear it for me?”
Bettina nodded shyly.
Then Mrs. Finch cleared her throat.
Tara said quietly, “I don’t want you to get in trouble. You’ll need to tell
Mrs. Finch and Cordelia that you’re sorry.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
Tara nodded and Bettina leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “I’m sorry that I didn’t punch that Cordelia a good one! THAT’s all I’m sorry about!”
Tara smothered a grin. “Well, I just want you to say that y-you’re sorry. That you’re very sorry.”
Bettina nodded eagerly. “I can say that part.”
“Good.”
Mrs. Finch spoke again, “Willow!”
“Uh, yes Mrs. Finch.”
“I recall a similar situation with you and Cordelia. You are not setting the proper example here. I expect you to solve this bad language problem with you and your campers and to make a real effort to get along with Cordelia. Is that clear?”
“Yes Mrs. Finch.”
“Excellent. I’ll be watching you and your group very carefully. You’re excused.”
Then Willow and Tara hugged Bettina and stood by while she apologized first to Mrs. Finch and second to Cordelia.
Lunch was over by the time they got back to the dining hall, but the black-haired girl was cleaning up. She jerked her thumb over to the kitchen door. “Sandwich stuff still there if ya wanna grab a bite.”
They thanked her and quickly fixed a couple of big sandwiches to eat at the stable.
The day wore on. The second to the last group consisted of their own kids with some others and they were pleased to see that Devola, Towanda, and Kate were good riders and would be in the younger advanced group.
There were a lot of moments: a shaft of sunlight turning Willow’s hair to copper fire, Tara’s musical laughter, warm hugs, and eyes that met again and again. They lingered after their final group left, craving a moment together. Then they breathed in deeply at exactly the same moment and laughed together. An instant later they were leaning in, forehead to forehead when they heard a crunching, splatting sound.
It was the black-haired girl walking up and taking enormous bites out of an apple. “Hey, don’t mind me,” she said, “I’m just here to take Arrow out for a ride.” She smirked, “unless that would fuck up the mood.”
Willow glared and Tara rolled her eyes. “C-come on, Willow. We sh-should round up our kids anyway.”
Dinner was a strange affair. Tara and Willow unrolled their anti-bad language strategy. “We’re going to st-start a sw-swearing club.” Towanda started grinning, Kate and Connie looked shocked, Lisa seemed somewhat bemused and Devola jumped right in. “That’s great, I know all of them damnfuckshitasshole—“ Willow threw her body across the table and clapped a hand over Devola’s mouth, looking anxiously for signs of Mrs. Finch. She and Tara breathed a sigh of relief at not having been overheard.
Willow took over. “This is a brand-new, never been done before, top secret swearing club!” The girls were wide-eyed. “We are going to invent swear words that have never been heard before. Every morning we’ll pick the swear words for the day and that’s what you say if you’re mad or you hurt yourself. Got it?”
Devola started waving her hand frantically. “I wanna pick! I wanna pick!”
Willow and Tara exchanged doubtful glances. “Okay, but whisper it first.”
“It’s from a song, ‘great big gobs of greasy grimy gopher guts’.”
Debbie was enthused, “ew, that’s great!”
Connie wasn’t, “That’s just gross. I won’t say it!”
Towanda disagreed, “It’s good but it’s too long.”
Lisa chimed in, “how about Great Golden Gorillas?”
Devola objected, “It’s still too long.”
But most of the other girls liked it so ‘Great Golden Gorillas’ became the swear words for tomorrow.
After dinner Tara walked the girls over to the 12 year old cabin with Jules and Mary, Jules' JC. They played red light/green light, drop the handkerchief, stone-stone, blind man’s bluff and had fun telling stories in the dark using a flashlight. Finally the lights out bell rang and Tara gathered up her girls to head back. Jules gave permission for Mary to help get them settled in. As they walked near the computer lab, Tara signaled everyone to stay still and she crept up to the window. She saw Willow bending over to help kid after kid, explaining and demonstrating how to compose and send e-mail; then Tara rejoined the group and they walked back to the cabin, did the goodnight hygiene routine, and put the girls to bed.
“Th-thanks, Mary, for helping so m-much.”
Mary smiled, “it’s okay. I like age seven the best anyway.” She waved from the doorway and stepped off the porch into the night.
A few minutes later Willow tiptoed in, eyes starry with excitement. “I did it, Tara! I taught that class. At first I was scared I mean you weren’t there but then I imagined you were. I called you my Imaginara-Tara and it worked great. You stayed in the back of the room and you waved at me when I went to too fast or forgot something.”
Tara blushed, flattered that Willow had thought of her, as Willow told all about the class.
“Y-you should be proud, Willow. I looked in at the end and you w-were doing great. I w-was proud of you, too.”
Willow’s smile widened and without thinking she walked quickly up to Tara who was sitting on her bed and gave her a big hug. Then she felt Tara’s warm breath against the softness of her breasts and she noticed that she was poinky and tingly. Even though she wasn’t at all tired, she really wanted to get into bed. Of course she had to check the cot first . . .
Willow walked out onto the porch, gave a half-hearted sniff in the general direction of the cot and walked back in. “It still smells terrible.”
Willow looked hopefully over at Tara, who caught her glance and smiled, lifting the covers invitingly.
Willow blushed, tripped as she pulled her last pajama leg off her foot, but managed to catch herself before she fell. Of course Tara had seen her stumble around like an idiot. She grabbed a pair of underwear and jammed her legs in, sliding the panties on as quickly as she could.
Tara trembled with cold, still holding the blankets open, “C-come to bed, Willow.”
Willow smiled, then swallowed and climbed in. She wasn’t sure exactly what has happening, but she knew that she had been thinking about this all day. Climbing into bed and
getting shiver-y with Tara.
She put her head on Tara’s shoulder, snuggled in happily and felt Tara’s arms slide around her in their now familiar embrace. She tried to prop herself on an elbow, so she could look at Tara’s face but she almost fell off the bed. She threw an arm quickly across Tara’s tummy to catch herself and felt Tara’s arms tighten the embrace and steady her.
O, god! My arm is still on Tara’s tummy and my hand is on her waist, her skin waist not her tank top waist! So now what do I do? I mean, I can’t just leave it there but I can’t just snatch it back either.
She looked up and saw Tara smiling at her quizzically.
She’s wondering what I’m doing. I’M wondering what I’m doing!
She considered her options and decided against lifting the arm and removing it due to the risk to her balance, finally she decided that she would simply slide her arm lightly back across Tara’s tummy far enough so that her arm would lay straight and her hand dangle safely without touching anything. She sighed with relief, problem solved.
Operation hand retrieval will now commence!
Everything began smoothly. With studied casualness, she began straightening her arm and her hand now dangled neutrally without touching Tara’s waist. She gave a short sigh of relief, but then something went terribly wrong. Her arm kept moving absolutely of its own volition and suddenly her hand was on Tara’s tummy sliding under Tara’s tank top. She gasped and she heard Tara gasp.
Now what do I do?
As if answering her question, her hand began moving in small circles on Tara’s tummy.
She jerked her head up and met Tara’s eyes. Tara’s lips were parted and she was breathing deeply. Her lips looked so full and soft. . .
Suddenly Willow jerked back, falling out of bed for the second time in two days.
I wet the bed! I wet the bed like a baby! What if I peed on Tara? Gotta go, run, clean up, shower, change, hide!
Her eyes were wide and her chest was heaving with suppressed tears.
Tara leaned over the bed, concerned with Willow’s sudden change of mood, “Sweetie? W-willow? What’s wrong?”
Willow didn’t hear Tara’s voice. Her ears were ringing and she felt faint and sick with shame as she yanked her pajama bottoms up, jammed her feet into shoes, and ran for the bathroom.
Tara lay still, her body tense with worry.
She was going to kiss me, I was sure she was going to kiss me and then she ran away. Tara struggled to make sense of what had just happened. She couldn’t believe that Willow didn’t love her. Finally she remembered back to their first night together and how Willow mentioned not yet having a regular period.
Tara smiled tenderly.
She must have gotten her period. She was embarrassed about staining the sheets or me finding out.
About twenty minutes later, Tara heard Willow’s footsteps on the porch. She lifted the covers again, then noticed Willow dragging the cot inside and making it up with extra sheets and blankets.
“W-willow. Aren’t you g-going to sl-sleep with m-me?”
“No.”
Tara dropped her head, trying to conceal the hurt she felt over Willow’s rejection. She took a breath, working up her courage to try again. “It’s okay if you g-got your p-period. J-just put on a p-pad or s-something. Are y-you having cramps?” She leaned over closer and whispered, “I c-could rub your t-tummy before we g-go to sl-sleep.”
“I’m fine, Tara. It’s not my period. Goodnight.” Willow turned away from Tara, effectively ending the conversation.
Tara laid tensely, her heart burning. She used her fingertips to check her eyes, at least she wasn’t crying, but she might as well have been; she felt that dead and lonely inside.
Willow meanwhile was still wondering what was wrong with her and how someone as grown-up as Tara would ever want to waste time with a baby like her.
It was a long, miserable night and they both fell asleep, exhausted, just a few hours before the wake-up bell.
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(yes, I'm shamelessly begging 
)
The ceremony was great, they handled it brilliantly. I loved Willow comforting Tara, I hope that she'll get to the roots of her grief and help her to heal. And don't think I missed that one of their beds has been taken. They better not get any stupid old cot. Time for cuddles!
) Your comments made perfect sense and I love the phrasing, "a very sweet push to an unrealized realization."
Thank you!
