Title: Neverland
Author: EasierSaid
Feedback: Yes, please.
Spoilers: None.
Setting: AU. There is no Hellmouth, there is no slayer and no magic of the wicca variety. Just our girls and the rest of the Buffy characters living and loving in that great city by the bay, San Francisco.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Please don't sue me Mutant Enemy.
Notes: This was originally the beginning of a much larger post, but then I got to writing and the update got longer and longer and.... well, kind of overwhelming. So, for my sanity, part a now, part b... eventually.
ETA: Lines from 'Listening to Fear' and 'Crush.'
Thoughts in italicsPART 65a
Three years earlierShe didn't hear her stomach rumble. At least, not right away. She was too busy listening to Tara.
And she never would have given a second look to the art on the walls if it hadn't been for the blonde. Yet once Tara began to describe the paintings in the lobby of the Beach Chalet, their creation, their creator and effect, Willow found herself enraptured. She had no idea that artists were hired during the Depression to beautify buildings, and that those artists infused their own political and cultural beliefs into the pieces, sometimes at the expense of the same government officials who employed them. It was genuinely interesting and she listened far more intently than she ever had when following a docent at a museum as Tara described the frescos.
How Tara spoke about the subject was almost as fascinating as the work. The blonde had this wonderful way of speaking with her right hand. When she would hit upon a subject that she was knowledgable about, or interested in... It was like her right arm was pinned to her side at her elbow, her forearm swinging up and down for emphasis. It was endearing and mesmerizing and Willow found herself eager for the blonde to speak with passion about something, anything, so she could see the movement again. She wasn't even sure the blonde was aware that she did it, the motion seemed so effortless.
After looking over the art they migrated to a long table in the middle of the large room. The table housed a diorama of the park and Willow eagerly scoured the model for the Academy of Sciences. Tara leaned in close as they looked at the diorama, her finger lightly moving along the top of the plexiglass housing, pointing to the sites they had seen in the park and the path they had walked to get to this point. She kept her voice soft—too loud and it would echo in the large space—and Willow hung on her every word with a smile.
It felt like when Buffy first came to Sunnydale times a thousand. The cool, new girl who was friendly with her even though she didn't have to be. Tara treated her with a care that she wasn't usually shown by people she admired. The blonde could have put in her time dutifully, taken her roommate's friend to the museum and then begged out, but instead here they were, miles from the museum standing side-by-side next to a diorama as the sun started to set beyond the large, lobby windows. It was random, unexpected and wonderful.
It was as if they had stumbled upon an affinity that Willow hadn't previously thought possible with a practical stranger. She spoke words and Tara smiled. Just like that. And not in the pitying way that she was sometimes accustomed to, but genuine, animated smiles that reached the blonde's beautiful blue eyes. It felt right, natural even, the usual awkward exchanges of acquaintances bypassed for the easy conversation of friends. And yet Willow still felt a little dazed. Awed. How was this happening? Before today she had imagined Tara to be almost inaccessible, a friend of a friend who she could admire but never connect with and yet, here they were, talking. Laughing. It was better than she could have hoped as they left the apartment hours ago.
Willow finally heard her rumbling tummy during a comfortable lull in their conversation, Tara just finished mapping the short walk from Queen Wilhelmina's Garden to where they stood now, their shoulders briefly brushing together. The redhead stole a quick look at the blonde. Willow was having such a good time, she didn't want the day to end. She quickly looked to the stairs behind them, the sounds of a bustling restaurant filtering down the stairwell, and then gently touched the blonde's arm. When Tara met her eye, Willow removed her hand with a smile and twisted her fingers together. "It seems that whole, never eating again on account of the really big, yummy breakfast thing sort of wore off, cause, now? I'm kinda starving. Do you, do you want to, maybe, have dinner, upstairs?" Willow asked, nodding hopefully to the restaurant above.
"Oh, uh." Tara was completely caught off guard. She had been waiting for the redhead to ask about calling a cab; her heart pounded in her chest. "W-What about Buffy?"
"What about her?" Willow asked innocently. The thought of including the petite blonde hadn't even crossed her mind.
"Well, it's late," Tara explained, reining in her emotions. Willow wanted to spend more time with her. "She's probably off work."
"And she's probably on Riley," the redhead muttered to herself snidely. A look of panicked contrition stole over her features as she glanced up and saw the blonde's amused face. "That sounded really harsh."
"Yet probably true," the blonde said, a half smile on her lips. "They um, they sometimes have tunnel vision for each other..." she confided.
Willow relaxed. "Well, she has my number and she hasn't called... I'm pretty sure we're on our own. Unless..." the redhead trailed off, her face turning doubtful. "You'd rather head home?"
"No." The blonde shook her head. She definitely did not want to burst whatever bubble they were in by heading home.
"Great," the redhead said, beaming. "So, dinner?"
"'Sure," Tara replied, smiling.
"And," Willow said with a mischievous smile as she started to head to the stairs, "if Buffy does call we can just make yummy noises and tell her about all of the delicious food she's missing."
The blonde grinned as she fell in beside the girl. "I'm down with that."
They climbed the stairs side-by-side, each happy their day was continuing as they discussed the carvings of sea creatures on the bannister. Tara smiled as Willow spoke, her heart still hammering in her chest. Willow just asked her to dinner. Granted, it was because they were at a restaurant after a long day spent wandering around a really huge park and the girl was starving, but still. Dinner. Alone. With Willow. She took a deep steadying breath as they approached the hostess.
The restaurant wasn't overly crowded, and the two girls were seated with minimal wait near the large windows that overlooked Ocean Beach. Clouds pushed into the shore, the waves flat against the gray backdrop. The sun's dull glow—now partially obscured by the fast-moving fog—was dropping quickly toward the ocean below.
"Goodbye, sun," Willow said, looking to the beach to her left.
"I still can't believe the weather we had today," Tara said, snuggling into her seat. "You have no idea how lucky you were." She smiled warmly at the redhead and delighted when the redhead returned the smile in kind.
The waiter promptly introduced himself and quickly recited the specials, the girls exchanging quick smiles at his practiced delivery. He left after taking their drink order, both opting for water to help defray the cost of what was sure to be their most expensive meal all semester. They looked over the menu in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. A bus boy arrived with their water and the blonde thanked him, earning her a quick smile from the redhead before she returned her attention to the menu.
Tara closed her menu first. She took a sip of water and then glanced down at the silverware. She was consciously keeping her eyes averted, unwilling to be caught staring at the captivating girl seated across from her. She looked to the ocean, then to the bar. She snuck a quick look at the redhead and her face softened, feelings swelling inside of her before she quickly looked away. She took another sip of water and her gaze again dipped to the table top.
She had tried to pull away downstairs as they made their way through the lobby, but ever since the fly fishing pools, Willow was nothing if not persistent with physical contact. A hand briefly placed on her back, fingers playing with her own as they laid on the grass in Queen Wilhelmina's Garden... When the blonde leaned over the diorama downstairs, the redhead seemingly nuzzled into her side and it was all Tara could do to keep from reaching up and caressing the girl's hip with her free hand. If it had been anyone else she would have felt compelled to remind them about personal space by politely stepping away, but it was Willow, and ever since the tulip garden... She tingled just thinking about the girl's touches. Tara briefly closed her eyes and silently sighed as she admitted to herself what she'd known all day to be true.
She had a crush on Willow.
She had a crush on Willow. Willow, who was Buffy's best friend and who also happened to be straight with a boyfriend. It was the opposite of ideal, but there was no way that she could have reasonably stopped it from happening. Willow was adorable, and sexy, brilliant and funny, and in retrospect the redhead had been in her head since their initial meeting two years prior. Tara could no sooner have stopped the sun from shining today than stop the feelings building inside of her.
What she could have done, however, was stop spending time with the redhead after the tulip gardens when those growing feelings started to threaten to overwhelm her with their intensity. She could have declined the girl's invitation to dinner, could have headed home and began to actively will away her growing attachment to the redhead.
But instead... Tara thought with another silent sigh. Instead she did this. She opted to sit across from Willow in a restaurant, spend time with the girl and enjoy the feeling of having feelings for another person again after so long and know—with sadness—that it would all be over in a couple of days when the redhead left town. Who knows if she'd ever even see Willow again after this trip. Possibly at Buffy's eventual wedding, or other major Buffy life event, but she and Buffy wouldn't live together forever and why else would their paths ever cross?
Tara took a long, unguarded look at the redhead, still deep in thought as she read her menu, and the blonde's heart skipped. She was enamored. Smitten. And totally unable to deny herself the pleasure of Willow's company as long the redhead offered it.
"So what are you gonna get?" Willow asked innocently as she looked up from her menu and folded it in front of her.
"Oh," the blonde said as she was roused from her thoughts. She hoped against hope that the redhead hadn't caught her staring. "The r-risotto, I think."
"Ooo, that looked yummy," the redhead said with a smile. The blonde sighed in relief. Willow hadn't noticed.
Tara relaxed, a slight smile pulling at her lips. "H-How about you?"
"Burger," the redhead said. "Very un-adventurous, but it looked good." She smiled. "I was going to try the chicken, but, well, let's just say they had me until the spinach."
"You don't like spinach?" Tara asked.
"You do?" Willow countered. Tara nodded. "I'm more of a, non, vegetable gal," the redhead explained sheepishly. "I mean, it's not like I'm all, death to vegetables, I just prefer to not eat them."
The blonde shook her head. "What do you eat then?"
"Pizza. Cereal." Willow took in Tara's disbelieving look. "Remember that thing I told you about studying all the time? So wasn't joking. Sometimes I sort of, forget to eat, so I end up with anything fast. But it's not all unhealthy. I eat oatmeal."
"Instant?"
Willow nodded. "And it has little desiccated apple chunks in it, so, healthy."
Tara opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the waiter. He took their orders promptly and then left with the menus. The girls chuckled as the lights in the restaurant suddenly dimmed and the bus boy reappeared. He reached between them and placed a small lit lamp on their table by the window before hurrying away.
The redhead leaned forward. "Ooo, romantic," she giggled.
Tara blushed, nodding to the lamp. "M-Maybe we should r-rub it and see if we get any wishes." She smiled brightly and the redhead laughed. Tara sighed; her laugh was so lovely.
"What would your three wishes be?" Willow asked playfully.
You, gay, in love with me, the blonde quickly thought before her mind ground to a halt.
Wait, 'in love...?!' She blushed as she stammered an answer. "T-The usual, I'm s-sure," she said gamely. "You know, money, eternal life, w-world peace." She smiled warmly as she willed her racing heart to slow. "How about you?"
"Same, though, one of those would have to go for 'good sourdough bread in Massachusetts.'"
"And the world was so close to everlasting peace," the blonde mock sighed. Willow laughed and another comfortable lull settled between them. Tara stole a look at the redhead and a devilish grin pulled at her lips. "So, you're um, you're afraid of frogs and horses, huh..." the blonde led with a teasing smile as she fiddled with her silverware. "Any other phobias I should know about...?"
Willow winced. "Oh, embarrassing..."
The blonde frowned. "I'm sorry–"
"No, it's just." The redhead sighed as she flapped her hand in front of her. "The frog fear, a-and the horse fear are just, super embarrassing. Which, obviously, means you now need to tell me something embarrassing to even things out." She flashed her own devilish grin at the blonde.
Tara blushed. "I think um, I think c-crying on a park bench is pretty embarrassing."
"Tara, no," Willow said softly as her brow furrowed. She leaned forward and dipped her head to catch the blonde's downturned eye; when the blonde looked up and Willow had it she spoke again. "Not at all." The blonde smiled back kindly. The redhead sat back up and flashed an impish smile. "So nice try but spill it, missy."
Tara chuckled. The redhead was tenacious. "Um..." She racked her brain. There was embarrassing, and there was embarrassing. She evaluated the redhead for a long moment before speaking. "Viagra."
Willow's brows shot up and if she had been drinking water she would have surely done a spit take.
"Actually, all of those... pills." Tara leaned forward and loudly whispered. "I mean, how do they w-work?" She blushed ferociously but plowed on, her voice returning to normal as she leaned back in her chair. "I mean, I know how t-they work, obviously, I took health in sixth grade and the concept is, b-blatantly obvious." She grew more flustered, her face burning bright red. "But it just s-seems so... weird. And the commercials; why two bathtubs?" The blonde asked, sincerely confused. "No, no don't answer, I don't want to know." She did a dramatic shoulder shiver and the redhead couldn't help but giggle. Tara dipped her head, her hair falling forward over her face. She didn't think the blush on her cheeks would ever stop burning.
"You know what I think is weird?" Willow asked, her lips turned up in a gratified grin. She had succeeded in egging the blonde into the reddest blush she had ever seen, and now she found herself in the impossible position of wanting to watch the blonde continue to squirm adorably or save her from her own, self-inflicted embarrassment.
"W-Weirder than two bathtubs?" Tara asked as she looked up, her face still bright red. "Um, Japanese commercials are weird." Willow flashed an unexpectedly large smile, and Tara's heart did a somersault.
"The word hole," the redhead said, deciding to let the blushing girl off the hook. "There's whole, w-h-o-l-e and hole, h-o-l-e. They mean totally different things. They couldn't think of two totally different-sounding words to use?"
Tara smiled, relieved at the subject change. "It is a little confusing."
"And you know another weird word?" Willow said as she proudly delighted in watching the blush recede from the blonde's face.
"Well, 'weird' is starting to sound a little weird," the blonde said, her brow knitting.
"Nude," Willow said. "Nude. It just sounds weird. Nude."
"You're um, you're thinking about nudes?" Tara said, a half smile emerging on her lips.
"Well, no," Willow said, her own cheeks coloring. "I was thinking about the art downstairs, and then the De Young, which made me think about the California Academy of Sciences and the evolution diorama and how our ancestors were so hairy, which is kinda icky now but totally practical back then when they spent all of their time–"
"Nude," Tara supplied with a head bob, seriously impressed with the trail Willow's brain had just taken.
"Nude is a weird word," Willow concluded.
"It doesn't sound that weird to me," Tara said with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "But then, I hear it all of the time."
"Right, because you're an artiste." Willow smiled gleefully.
Tara smiled at both the way Willow said 'artiste' and the pixie grin on her face. "It's um, the polite way to describe a seriously clothing-deprived subject," the blonde mock confided.
"An artistic euphemism."
"Pretty much," Tara said, her bright smile never receding from her lips.
"Naked is naughty and nude is–"
"Boring," Tara said with a giggle.
"Have you ever...?" The words died in Willow's mouth.
"...Painted nudes?" Tara finished, sensing that was the question.
The redhead slightly winced. "I realize now that that might be a really personal and borderline inappropriate question. I'm sorry."
"No, it's. Yes," the blonde said, opting to avoid a lengthy explanation. "I have. Painted nudes. For that anatomy class I'm failing, they were required."
"Oh," Willow replied, slightly thrown. "So, your project, the brutal one?"
A blush covered Tara's cheeks. "T-They're not explicit or anything."
"Well of course not, cause then they'd be naked pictures," Willow joked. She beamed when Tara smiled.
"T-They're mostly macros; extreme close-up drawings and stuff?" The blonde explained.
"Did you have to use a subject?" Willow asked. "You know, like how they always show in movies with the weird guy standing in the middle of the room, strategically placed canvases on easels covering, stuff." She took a sip of water from a straw.
Tara blushed and smiled. "N-Not for this one, though it was um, recommended. I um, I actually d-drew myself."
"Oh," Willow replied again, and she felt her face heat up as she placed her drink back on the table. "Well that's..."
"Embarrassing," Tara replied, dipping her head. "I sh-should have used the model."
Willow felt her heart melt at the clouded look on the blonde's face. "No," she said softly, catching the blonde's now up-turned eyes. "I think it's really cool that you drew yourself."
"N-No," Tara said, again dipping her head. "But thanks." She looked back up. "D-Did I mention that I thought I was going to fail?"
"I really doubt it," Willow said. "You're a great artist and you have a beautiful subject. I mean–"
"Thanks," the blonde interrupted softly as she blushed furiously.
"No problem," the redhead answered, her own cheeks flushing red. Their eyes met, and they quickly looked away.
"Burger with fries?" Both girls looked up wide-eyed as the server moved to their sides. They each thanked the man as he placed their dishes in front of them. He left after being assured that they didn't need anything else, and both girls looked expectantly at each other.
"Well, bon appetit," the redhead said happily, and the two girls tucked into their food. They spent dinner chatting about the restaurant and nearby landmarks, Tara briefly explaining how the beach used to be home to an amusement park called Playland. Their conversation eventually turned to the art in the room, then to Tara's art. The blonde found herself bombarded with questions on the subject, and she marveled at how exhaustively thorough Willow's mind was. Buffy hadn't exaggerated when she said Willow wouldn't be satisfied until she knew everything about everything.
"It's just so fascinating," the redhead said as she pushed her empty plate to the side. "I mean, I know creative people—my friend Bryan can do amazing things with programming language—but being an artist, like a real, artist, is taking the whole, creative process thing to a totally different level." She took in Tara's amused look. "I'm sorry, I'm being annoying."
"Not at all," Tara said with an adoring smile.
"I just know that if you asked me to take some paint and some paper and make something other people would want to hang up in their homes, you wouldn't get much more than some tear-stained paper."
The blonde chuckled.
"What?" Willow asked, amused. She leaned into the table, smiling at the way the blonde's blue eyes sparkled.
"Nothing, it's just funny," Tara said. Her smiled slightly faltered as she realized just how funny. Nerves flooded the blonde's body as she met the redhead's eye. "I mean, you're around the creative process all the time..."
Willow looked at the girl quizzically. "I am?"
Tara steeled herself. "A-Aren't you dating a musician?" She looked down and then back up. Oz. She had wanted to ask about him ever since the redhead's allusion in the park, but she hadn't had the nerve. Now she waited on pins and needles, watching the redhead closely. Her heart hammered in her chest.
"Oh, that," Willow said, a furrow appearing in her brow. "That's..." She sighed with an awkward smile. "We don't really talk about that kind of stuff."
"Oh," Tara said surprised, momentarily regretting bringing up the redhead's boyfriend. But she was so curious... "Is um, is Oz g-graduating this year?"
Another line creased the redhead's brow. "We don't really talk about that stuff, either," Willow said carefully.
"Oh," Tara repeated. She forced a smile. "That's." She forced her smile wider, embarrassed that her subtle prying had fallen so flat. Silent seconds began to add up, and Tara wondered how two innocent questions about the girl's boyfriend could so drastically alter the mood.
Willow looked at the awkward smile on the blonde's face and her heart ached. She'd made the girl uncomfortable. "Hey," she began, catching the blonde's interested eye. She didn't know what to say. "When we're done do you want to go peek in the gift shop downstairs?" The redhead internally winced at the clumsy subject change but plowed on. "Granted, it's closed and dark, but I think I saw a poster that might be worth going on a wild goose chase on the Internet for."
"Sure," the blonde nodded before looking down at her hands in her lap. Silence again fell between them, Tara feeling increasingly uneasy with each passing second. Her brow knit. "Willow," she said.
"Yeah?" Willow answered with a bright, easy smile.
Tara almost did a double take at the redhead's abrupt mood change. The blonde smiled, slightly flustered, and looked down to her hands. The redhead's reaction to her boyfriend being mentioned—and then her awkward avoidance of all things Oz—was not what Tara had expected, and raised more questions then she was willing to entertain at that moment.
Willow felt slightly lost as she watched the blonde retreat behind a curtain of hair. She didn't know why she responded like she did to Tara's gentle inquiries about Oz, only that it felt like he shouldn't be there. It wasn't the right time to think about him, to think about the Dingoes, to think about his increasingly long collegiate career. It was dinner, with Tara, and nobody else deserved to be there except the two of them. She sighed, confused.
The waiter saved them from a prolonged silent spell, offering a desert menu which the girls refused. He left the check and removed their plates. They agreed to split the bill down the middle, and once cash was exchanged, Tara left the table to ask the hostess to call them a cab.
They spent fifteen minutes in the lobby waiting for the cab, their easy banter fully returned as they peered into the dark gift shop. The ride back to the apartment was uneventful, Tara describing the parts of town as they zipped down Geary and then Stanyan. They split the fare when the cab pulled to a stop in front of their building, Tara noticing with a glance up that her apartment lights weren't on. The cab pulled away and the blonde smiled to herself as she listened to Willow finish a particularly amusing story. They made their way to the metal gate and Tara pulled her keys from her pocket, the small penguin keychain in her hand. She flashed a nervous, hopeful smile at the redhead and inserted the key into the lock.
) day and the way they observe their surroundings.
Hope all is well with you and thank you for updating!
Oh, thank you, Heather. My, how I've missed you. Please, don't feel bad about the length between updates. Just take care of you and yours, and I hope life gives you a break soon. I may be older and grayer by the time this gets finished, but you know I'll still be here. 
. I love that that the story continues... I know you will take it, and us to the conclusion you've always imagined. I don't know what brought the kb to mind, but seeing an update to Neverland and your name... well let's just say it was a barrage of warmth, and the feeling of well-being. 
to 
to 
? 
unless i can have this one maybe? 
