**mollyig: Thanks ... it's a common theme with my W/T stuff, because they have to learn to talk to each other over and over again. Which may seem like I think they're dense, but I consider it more of a life lesson that most people need to learn over and over. Each situation that requires deep conversation is, in and of itself, an entirely new experience. I'm just happy they reach the same conclusion every time - that's what makes them work. And I love your dancing penguin.
**Bookcat: Beatles? Never heard of 'em. *G* And thank you - I'm glad you like my analysis. I usually tend to think of it as overthinking (you can tell it's over thinking, because I think about whether or not it's overthinking *G*), but if overthinking is what makes all y'all like this stuff, then I shall continue to do so.
**Yuri: Big monkey. You should catch up. And yes, she does need to learn to slack, otherwise she's going to end up with ulcers.
**xita: Oops, I did it again! If you'll, umm ... well, pardon the random Britney Spears moment. But you're right - that's love. More importantly, that's W/T love. And it's a darn good thing they can make the end of the world better for each other, what with that happening every other Saturday on the Hellmouth. And yeah, Willow's adorable, Tara's adorable, and if they were any more adorable together I'd have to do something drastic, like move to LA, shave my head, and start an all-girl punk band called "Lesbian Slumber Party" that only did songs about Willow and Tara.
**Jennpurr: Well, I'm glad you're okay with waiting, because I still ain't done with Recycled. I think it's because I get distracted by bright and shiny objects. As for smut, I was feeling the guilt of not posting and wrote a pwp called 'Answering Wetness'. If you haven't read it, it's on page 2 or 3, I think, and fairly entertaining. And yes, Willow should definitely know better, but taking a hit in the one area of her life where she's always been confident sort of threw her for a loop. And while I'm not sure I can write you in for hugging Tara, just imagine that you're Willow - that's what I do
**Cicca: D'oh! Bad me! I haven't thanked you for thanking me for this latest vignette yet. Heh ... 'vignette yet' >does< sound funny *G* And thank you - I'm really glad you like this series ... as for smutty vignettes ... I'm not actually going to write one of those. Jennpurr and I were talking about 'Recycled', a story that I >started< writing, then stalled out on, which will definitely have smut in it. Though, I suppose 'Answering Wetness' is a smutty vignette ... I just couldn't post that in this thread, because I like to keep it PG-13 here. Maybe I should write more smut and post it in the 'Answering Wetness' thread? And call if the Smutty Vignettes? Nah.
**Insanity: Thank you - I'm always happy to hear new people are reading the series (of course, I'm happy when not-new people >continue< reading the series ... I'm kind of easy that way). I'm glad you liked 20 and 21 ... those were two of my favorites. I had a blast saying all of Tara's lines out loud so I could hear how they'd sound with a head cold for # 20, and I had >another< blast figuring out a set of circumstances in which I felt Tara would actually enter a wet t-shirt contest. So thank you.
And now, The New Vignette, Which I Think Is Number 38:
Series: Vignettes
Number: 38
Title: Every Little Thing She Does ...
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to
pink_overalls@yahoo.comSpoiler Warning: Set Season 4 sometime after 'A New Man'
Summary: Willow goes cd shopping and ponders the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. This vignette is Tara-light.
Disclaimer: I didn't create these characters. I do, however, love them, and as they reside in my heart, they belong to me. I'm not making any money off of them, though.
Rating: PG-13
Every Little Thing She Does ...
Part 38 of the Vignettes Series
by Sassette
Willow didn't actually remember the eighties. What with being ten years old when the eighties were over, and not having any older siblings, she had missed all the hair bands and glam rock and drug culture. She was very much a child of the nineties, and while she had heard of a band called The Police, she hadn't even known that Sting was the lead singer.
So it had to have been a sign when she had been browsing the record store looking for Jewel's latest album (a guilty pleasure she didn't like to talk about - but not as embarrassing as Buffy's Celine Dion album) when she spotted a cd entitle 'Synchronicity' in the used cd's section. Immediately, visions of Tara's face bathed in the soft glow of candles and fairie lights jumped into her mind's eye, and her hand had jumped out and grabbed the record before she had a chance to think about it.
She rushed home, feeling self-conscious and guilty, wondering if the feelings she couldn't make sense of were somehow stamped on her forehead, imagining people looking at the bag in her hands with knowing eyes. What was it, really, that she felt for Tara? She'd never actually felt like this about anyone before, and found that whatever she was feeling also caused nervousness, excitment and lots of confusion. She was at her wits' end, and had no idea what she was going to do about her new friend, or even if she had to do anything. Wasn't the way they interacted just fine the way it was? And if she wanted more, more of >what
Her hands trembled a little when she popped the cd into the player, thankful Buffy wasn't home, the case in her hand as she looked over the track titles. What was she expecting? Some kind of epiphany from a cd that was probably as old as she was? But the title reminded her of rose petals and Tara, and while part of her thought she should think that combination a little odd, she didn't. Rose petals and Tara just seemed to go together, as natural and wonderful as cake and ice cream, or pen and ink, or other things that went together in a really nice way.
She hit 'play', and the sort of familiar sound of the song 'Roxanne' issued forth from the speakers, and she frowned, looking at the cd case again. That song wasn't supposed to be playing. She skipped to the second track, and a song about putting a message in a bottle started up, which she guessed was definitely not 'Walking in Your Footsteps'. Putting a message in a bottle was more of a nautical theme, and walking in someone's footsteps sort of seemed kind of 'dry land'.
With a disgusted snort, she hit 'stop' and shook her head. There went any chance at some kind of eighties-music induced epiphany. Then again, had she really expected that? Had she really expected one of those songs to just magically tell her how she felt about Tara? With a frown and a sigh, she sat down at her computer, and moved the mouse, the Stargate SG-1 screensaver disappearing, and her familiar cheery desktop coming up.
She turned the cd case over in her hand a couple of times, looking at it closely. Somebody had obviously sold an old cd, and put the wrong cd in the case.
"Stupid cd," Willow grumbled, finding herself growing more and more irritated at the unknown seller. This whole thing was just ... wrong. How could someone put the wrong cd in a case and then sell it? She'd spent five whole dollars for some kind of insight into her life, and all she'd gotten was ... well, something else. Not what she paid for. "That's false advertising," she declared, opening up her web browser. "Or bait and switch," she mumbled distractedly, typing in the address for google and pressing enter more sharply than she needed to. "Or is bait and switch a subset of false advertising? Like, a bait and switch is false advertising but false advertising isn't necessarily a bait and switch?" she kept on muttering, typing in 'Roxanne message bottle' into the search engine in an attempt to figure out exactly what had been switched for the alluring bait of 'Synchronicity'. "Like a square is a rectangle, but a rectangle isn't necessarily a square," she went on, surveying the results of her search with a practiced eye. "Rectangular bait and switchy cd. A pox on both your houses," she said, aiming her words at the nameless faceless false advertiser who had tricked her into buying a cd that was >not< what she had expected.
She could deduce from her results set that the cd she had was, in fact, a Police cd, so that part was right at least. With a frown, she clicked a promising link, only to find the lyrics to 'Roxanne' and 'Message in a Bottle'. Apparently, The Police didn't really go in for creative song titles.
Clicking 'back', she scrolled through her results again, choosing another promising link, then smiled triumphantly. "Google - Ancient Geeky Secret," she said with a self-satisified smirk. "Net Girl wins again."
The cd she had, she learned, was entitled 'Every Breath You Take - The Singles', and right there on the song list was 'Roxanne' then 'Message in a Bottle' as tracks one and two. "Mystery solved - but take it back, or admit defeat?" she wondered aloud, propping her elbow on the desk and resting her chin on her hand, idly scrolling down the page. How silly was it to attempt to find enlightenment from an 80's band? Just how loopy was she going to get over this whole Tara thing?
Willow sat up abruptly, as if stung, as words jumped off the screen in front of her, through her eyes, and seared into her brain. She jumped from her seat and raced to the cd player, her shaky hands moving the cd forward to track seven and hitting 'play'.
This, Willow figured, >had< to be a sign. Attracted by the title 'Synchronicity', she just happened to buy the wrong cd, which just happened to have a song on it entitled 'Every Little Thing She Does is Magic', because she wanted to figure out how she felt about Tara. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she said out loud to the nameless faceless false advertiser as she stepped backwards on shaky legs and sat on her bed, and listened.
The song ended, and Willow sat, stunned, staring at the cd player. Was this how she felt? Did this song echo her feelings for Tara? It couldn't be - she'd never had, well, tendencies before ... was she reading way too much into a silly coincidence?
But was it a silly coincidence? She had bought the cd because she was confused, and if her feelings were simply friendly-type feelings, why would she be confused? Didn't the confusion itself mean that the answer was painfully clear?
"Lets look at this logically," Willow said aloud, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, feeling oddly vulnerable and exposed, though she was alone in her room. How would she feel if Buffy or Xander were suddenly gone from her life? That was a good place to start - she wasn't confused about her feelings for either of them, so it made a good benchmark.
She'd feel shattered, she decided, just the thought of her friends being gone so bleak it left her shaky and unsettled. Her friendships with Buffy and Xander were formative, she decided. They had been with her as she grew, and they had given her shape. The things they shared and had been through together had molded her into who she was, like the world was a spinning wheel, and she was a lump of clay, and her friends were the hands that made her what she was - a bowl, or a vase, or a big lump of nothing.
And what about Oz? What had he been? She frowned a little when she thought of him in the past tense. When had that started? It had been awhile now, she realized, though she couldn't pinpoint exactly when. He was her past, and she had come to terms with the idea that he was gone, and that even if he ever did come back, things wouldn't necessarily be the same. Probably wouldn't be the same.
So what was he in this bizarre pottery analogy she had worked up? He was another pair of hands, she decided. His view of her had helped her see herself differently, and therefore changed who she was. Sort of like Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, where the act of being observed changed her. But Oz leaving? That was the kiln. Not Oz himself, but the pain she had felt when he left. She was shaped, and thrust into the fires, where she would either break or truly become what she had been shaped to be.
"And I became," Willow whispered, her eyes distant as she stared at the cd player. Her brain skipped around the thought of Tara, focusing instead on the relationships that were clear to her, though the Oz thing hadn't >seemed< clear until just this moment. So if she was shaped and solidified, what was left?
How would she feel if Tara were gone from her life?
Willow's breath left her and tears stung her eyes. No Tara? Her heart thudded in her chest and she ached. Without Tara there'd be no ... no magic. And not the spells, but the magic of every little thing she did. The magic of her shy half-smile, the magic of her humor. The magic of her kindness and of her generosity. The magic of her spirit and hidden strength. These would all be gone and Willow would feel ...
Empty.
She'd feel empty and hollow without Tara. She'd be formed, but useless.
How had that happened? Without Tara, Willow was a clay bowl. With her, she was a clay bowl filled with Tara. At what point had Tara become so definitive?
But it had happened. She, Willow, had become a bowl, and Tara had filled her up.
"And now I'm cracking," Willow said, shaking her head at the analogy that made far more sense than it had any right to.
"Hey, Wills," Buffy said, breezing into the room and dropping her book bag with a huff. "What're you listening to?" she asked curiously, her head cocking to one side.
"Just a cd I picked up," Willow said, getting up from the bed and grabbing her own book bag. "Look, I'm going to go, umm ... to the library. Or the computer lab. Y'know, school work, academia, grades - yay school," she said hurriedly, Buffy's sudden appearance spurring her into action. She didn't want to see Buffy right now - not when she'd just figured out something so very mind-bogglingly earth-shatteringly important - not because she didn't want to share with Buffy, but because right now, more than anything, she needed to see Tara.
"Oh," Buffy said, a disappointed look on her face. "Okay - but how about you, me and Xander at the Bronze tomorrow night? We never get together anymore, and I miss you guys," Buffy said, a sad little smile on her face.
"That'd be great," Willow said, smiling and meaning it. She needed to see Tara, like, right now, but she missed her friends, and her pottery analogy didn't apply to Tara alone. It had given her some clarity about her relationships with the girl in front of her who had sat down next to a geeky high school girl and made a friend, and the boy who had always been there. They, more than anyone, had made her who she was, and she just hoped they had made her right for Tara. "But I gotta' go. About 8 o'clock?"
"Eight it is," Buffy said with a little smile as Willow raced out the door.
Her footsteps carried her swiftly across campus to Tara's dorm room, and she didn't even pause at the door or up the steps, just powered her way through until she was standing in front of Tara's door and knocking lightly, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she waited for an answer.
"W-willow," Tara said, opening the door and finding her friend on the other side. "W-were we, ummm ... supposed to, uhh ... do something?" she asked, her brow knitting in confusion.
"Oh, no," Willow said hurriedly. "We didn't have plans."
"Oh," Tara said, looking at Willow quizzically. "Do you, ummm ... do you w-want to, uhh ... come in?" she asked.
"I mean, if you're not busy," Willow said, an apologetic look on her face. "Oh, you're busy, aren't you? I should've called first, or sent a pigeon. Smoke signal? And now I'm being all imposition-girl just showing up on your doorstep tra-la-la," Willow said. "I'll just, umm ... I'll go, and I'll see you later?"
"No!" Tara said quickly, her hand reaching out to hesitantly touch Willow's arm, stopping her in her tracks.
"No?" Willow said, her heart leaping into her throat as panic set in. "You won't see me later?"
"No, I mean - umm ... you don't h-have to, umm ... go. I'm not busy. Please, umm ... come in," she said, her eyes lighting up and her lips quirking into a half-smile as she stepped back and held the door open.
"Neat," Willow said happily, stepping into the room and smiling as the door closed behind her.