Strawberries & Ice Cream



Author: Chris Cook

Rating: PG

Summary: Tara Maclay has three days to find fresh strawberries on a five-mile-long space station in neutral territory. No problem at all.

Spoilers: Pretty much none.

Copyright: Based on characters from 'Buffy The Vampire Slayer', created by Joss Whedon and his talented minionators, and 'Babylon 5', created by J. Michael Straczynski. All original material is copyright 2003 Chris Cook.

Feedback: Please. Here, or to alia@netspace.net.au



Note: Seeing as this is finished, it's already available (with cutesy Photoshopped title graphic) on my Uber-Will/Tara archive 'Through the Looking-glass': www.netspace.net.au/~alia/glass.htm



--



Babylon 5. A five-mile-long space station in neutral territory, port-of-call for diplomats, hustlers, entrepreneurs, smugglers, refugees and wanderers. Two and a half million tonnes of spinning metal, home away from home for a quarter of a million humans and aliens. None of them exactly what they appear. All of them wanting something.



Tara Maclay wanted strawberries, and she wasn't having an easy time finding them. She had three days until Willow's birthday, and her strawberries-and-ice-cream plan was on decidedly shaky ground. Babylon 5 didn't grow any strawberries, of course - all its hydroponic areas were filled with 'essential' plants, those with a high dioxide-to-oxygen yield, and better than average harvest value. Apparently someone back at Earthdome had decided that strawberries weren't 'essential' enough when they had put together Babylon 5's self-sufficiency guidelines. After weeks of fruitless searching, Tara had half a mind to find that someone and space them.



That left imports, and imports were expensive. The station's most affluent citizens could afford to have their fruit and vegetables ferried in from Earth and the Proxima colonies, which was what kept prices and demand up at the most exclusive restaurants. Tara had checked well in advance, and found that - due to the delicate shipping requirements and low demand - the cost of getting fresh strawberries on Babylon 5 was only marginally cheaper than just flying to Earth for dessert.



If only the ice cream had been more difficult, Tara lamented to herself as she made her way through the crowded Zocalo, following up another lead that, she was sure, would end with a shopkeeper insisting that strawberries were impossible to acquire. If, months ago, ice cream had turned out to be impossible to get, she probably would have forgotten the whole strawberries-and-ice-cream idea, and thought up something else for Willow's birthday. But ice cream had, since Earth's first contact with aliens, spread through the galaxy like a luciously tasty plague, and with every alien race on the station importing supplies - even the Pak'ma'ra ate it, ignoring the fact that it had never been alive, and therefore hadn't been dead five days prior to eating - that there was always enough spare to go around. With Tara's ice cream happily on its way in from the Io transfer point, she had no option but to find the strawberries. Damn it.



"I'm sorry ma'am," the shopkeeper told her when she explained her problem, "but my resources - considerable though they are," he interrupted himself, gesturing around his shop, packed as it was with bizarre odds and ends from fifty sectors, "are limited. If you'll excuse me for a moment-" He looked past her as the shop's bell tinkled, signalling a new customer. Tara folded her arms and frowned - her list of potential suppliers was running short.



"You *what*?" A brisk, forceful voice brought Tara back to her immediate surroundings. She turned to see the shopkeeper making every effort to placate a visibly irritated Commander Susan Ivanova, who was directing at him the kind of death-stare she was rumoured to use during negotiations with hostile governments. Ivanova... an idea sprung to Tara's mind. Ivanova had a way - Goddess only knew how - of getting coffee, real coffee, on the station, which should have been impossible on an Earthforce military salary. One of the handful of times Tara - in her official capacity as legal attaché to the docker's guild - had had a meeting with Ivanova, she had smelled the unmistakeable aroma from the Commander's cup. Perhaps she knew someone who knew someone, and so on, who could help.



"Commander," she ran after Ivanova, who was storming out of the beleaguered merchant's shop.



"Miss... Maclay, isn't it?" said Ivanova. Tara nodded, and she went on: "I feel it only fair to warn you, if the guild wants to renegotiate again, this is *not* the day they should have chosen."



"No, no," said Tara hastily, "it's nothing official." She quickly explained her predicament, omitting only the destination of the present she was preparing. Willow, as one of only two telepaths assigned to Babylon 5, was frequently around the command staff, and Tara didn't want her surprise accidentally spoiled.



"Good luck," advised Ivanova with a wry smile.



"I was hoping you might know someone," suggested Tara, "maybe be able to have a few packed into a shipment off Mars or something like that?" She gave Ivanova her best imitation of Willow's irresistible pleading face. Susan held out for a whole three seconds, then sighed theatrically, raising her eyebrows, and pulled Tara into an alcove, out of the way of the Zocalo's crowds.



"Okay, listen," she whispered, "if anyone asks, I never told you this, and if you tell anyone else about it I will deny all knowledge, and *then* reassign your quarters to Grey Sector without an oxygen breather. This is between you and me." Tara nodded - she knew Ivanova, by reputation at least, well enough to know she was being facetious. Probably.



"The Drazi Ambassador," Ivanova explained, "has connections who can arrange for small quantities of fresh produce to be shipped in - sort of an unofficial kind of diplomacy, most of the other Ambassadors let him get away with creative interpretations of treaties so long as he gets their favourite snacks shipped in. He's a hard bargainer, but I can arrange for him to hand over some strawberries - but I need a favour in return." Tara nodded her assent. "You've probably been looking all over the station already, am I right?" Tara nodded again, and Ivanova went on: "Then you'll have a good idea of who has what. I've got an... occasion coming up, and I need a package brought on board. It's a box of chocolates, and the damned thing is late. At the moment it's sitting in a storage bay three sectors away, and my usual courier has gone and changed his schedule, again. If you can find someone who can have that package put on an incoming ship and offloaded here, I'll talk to the Drazi and call in a favour. Agreed?"



"Agreed," said Tara quickly. Ivanova produced a data crystal from her jacket.



"That's all the information you'll need. When you've found someone who can do it, refer them to me and I'll take care of everything. I just don't have the time to run around the whole commercial section myself, not with the Gaim and the Brakiri about to start a shooting war over trade tariffs."



"I'll take care of it," promised Tara. Ivanova thanked her and vanished back into the crowd. Tara headed in the opposite direction, feeling much better. Everything was working out after all.



-----



"They're what?" exclaimed Tara. Five different people had already told her the same thing - sector twenty by nine was experiencing prolonged delays - but this was the first time she'd heard why.



"Military operations," repeated the Narn trader she was talking to, "the Minbari are hunting down a group of raiders who seem to have made their base somewhere in the sector. All commercial traffic is subject to escort, and the Minbari only have enough escort cruisers for a handful of ships at a time. Now, if you could prevail upon the Minbari to provide an escort for one of my vessels, I'm sure we could pick up your cargo and be here in no time, but as it stands..."



Tara huffed in frustration and thought fast. The Narn was her best bet of getting Susan's package delivered on time. Sure, she would just go ask the Minbari Ambassador, whom she didn't even know, if she would mind having a word to her people's military caste about the disposition of their merchant escort fleet... then again, Captain Sinclair was close to the Minbari Ambassador, and he did owe Tara a favour after her assistance in straightening out the latest round of negotiations between him and the ever-fractious docker's guild, so perhaps...



"I'll see what I can do," she promised the bemused Narn. She set off, planning how best to arrange to bump into Captain Sinclair. She considered contacting Ivanova again, but dismissed the idea - she had promised to take care of the matter for her, so she would. Asking Willow to have a word with Sinclair would be out of the question - once she got her curiosity going, Tara would need a changeling net to keep her surprise a secret for three days.



The solution presented itself in the form of the slim blonde quietly observing the station's bustling markets from one of the balcony cafés. Talia Winters and Willow had worked together frequently during the first few weeks of Willow's posting to Babylon 5, before Willow had got up to speed on the station's many and varied inhabitants and factions, and could operate without a guide. Tara had gotten to know her, and they had remained friends since.



"I need to talk with Captain Sinclair," Tara explained after exchanging greetings and small talk.



"That might be difficult," the telepath purred - she *always* purred. "What's this about?"



"It's a... private matter," answered Tara, "I need a meeting with the Minbari Ambassador, and I thought he might be able to help."



"Probably," admitted Talia, "but he's due to go out on a patrol in an hour, and he won't be back until tomorrow." Tara's dismay must have showed.



"Tell you what," Talia suggested, "I could probably have a word with him before he leaves, if I hurry. But I need you to do something for me. I was about to head down to level 15. I had an order placed for a... well, it's our being-a-couple anniversary tonight, Susan and I, and I decided to get her a present. Only the shop closes in half an hour. If you could pick it up for me, I'll talk to the Captain before he goes out."



Which was how Tara found herself standing in a plain, spartan shop on the border between the normal commercial levels and 'down-below'. The area wasn't actually disreputable - a few levels lower down and Tara would have hesitated to go - but she was nonetheless surprised to find such a professional-looking establishment among the disorderly maze of stalls and vendors who made up most of the level's commercial population. By the look of the place, though, it existed purely to deliver goods ordered by remote, so Tara guessed that having an impressive shop-front wasn't high on their list of priorities. Tara showed the clerk the order crystal Talia had given her, and waited while she disappeared into the back room to search through his stock. At least, Tara thought she was a 'she' - she wasn't sure what species the insectoid clerk was, but the translator hanging around her neck, interpreting her whistles and clicks, had a feminine voice.



"Here we are," she said brightly, returning with a package wrapped in tissue paper, "if you'll just sign here?" Tara pressed her thumb to the offered data tablet, as the clerk produced a slim storage box and unwrapped the package from its paper. Tara put the tablet back on the desk and straightened to see the clerk holding up a very silky, very sexy red and black teddy.



"Body covering," said the clerk in a nonchalant fashion, "I don't know what you people see in them. I suppose it makes up for not having a nice carapace, eh?" she joked.



"Uh-huh," said Tara, hoping like hell no-one else came into the shop before the clerk closed the box. She fretted until the teddy was respectably concealed within its storage box - at least she would be able to go outside without combusting from excess blushing. 'Talia must be planning one hell of an anniversary,' she thought to herself. 'Come to think of it...'



"C-can I order another one of these?" she blurted out. The clerk nodded and gestured with one of her claws to the data tablet Tara had used.



"Several still in stock. I'll send a catalogue to your system," she promised. Tara nodded and dashed out of the shop before her blush made a counter-attack. Well, the strawberries were still a problem, but that was the post-birthday celebrations taken care of.



-----



Tara rested a few moments on a bench, between a Centauri fortune teller's stall and a Gaim fast food vendor, to take the load off her feet, and collect her thoughts. She was mentally rehearsing what she would say to the Minbari Ambassador when someone sat beside her.



"You're Tara Maclay, aren't you? Willow's partner?" Tara turned to see an intense-looking woman studying her.



"Commander Lochley," she answered, "yes, hello." Lochley's eyes flickered to the corner of the box Tara held in her lap. Tara looked as well, and realised she had read the shipping code. And now she had a sly grin tugging at the edges of her lips. 'Oh Goddess,' Tara thought, feeling her cheeks redden, 'she knows.'



"You picking that up for Talia?" she asked. Tara nodded, frowning.



"How did you know?" she asked.



"I'm head of security," said Lochley, "it's my job to know everything and everyone on the station. Omniscience is part of the job requirements. Do you want a burger?" Lochley motioned towards the burger stall she had been at before she sat down.



"Is that actual beef?" asked Tara, more out of curiosity than anything else. She had been vegetarian even before she moved to the station, where meat dishes were the exception rather than the rule. She wondered how a down-below vendor could get hamburger meat without driving his costs up.



"It's... actual meat," said Lochley. "Best not to enquire further." She shrugged and took another bite of her own burger.



"Uh-huh," said Tara, contemplating the possibilities. Of course, down-below did have a bit of a rat problem...



"It's probably not for everyone," said Lochley, after gulping down her bite, "but, you know, I just prefer good, honest, don't-ask-where-it-came-from junk food now and then. Doctor Franklin says it's not harmful. Though he did complain about my diet when I asked. Doctors, huh? Spend all day in the operating room, but get squeamish over one little unidentifiable food product."



"Do they do vegetarian?" asked Tara.



-----



Some time later, Tara was sitting in the guest room of Ambassador Delenn's quarters, gazing around at the mystical furnishings. Despite the Ambassador's widely-reported metamorphosis from a full Minbari to her current half-human form, her quarters were still decorated very much in the alien style, full of crystals and refractive prisms, light and shade arranged carefully to achieve the proper effect. Tara was acutely conscious of not knowing what any of it meant, and throughout her brief meeting had been mainly hoping she wouldn't inadvertently cause offence somehow. Delenn had seemed to sense this, and had done her best to put Tara at ease.



"What you ask is not impossible," said Delenn, in her melodic voice. "The assignment of escorts to trading vessels is essentially random, as none are on relief missions, or other assignments that would cause us to give them priority. And of course," she smiled, "your cause is worthy. I will communicate with our fleet captain, and see what arrangements can be made for the Narn transport, in return for a small service on your part."



Tara agreed, and Delenn disappeared for a moment into her private rooms, returning with a small box, packaged as a gift.



"A ceremonial song-crystal," she explained, lifting the lid. The teardrop-shaped crystal inside emitted a soft, soothing chord when she held it near the light. "The Drazi Ambassador's third cycle of honour begins tomorrow. Unfortunately these five days on Minbar are in honour of Valen, in whose memory we wear these robes," she touched a hand to the shoulder of her outermost robe, which was a soft purple. "Purple is not a good colour for Drazi at the moment," she said with a shrug. "I would have been forced to give the Ambassador his gift two days late - which would not be a mortal offence by any means," she hastened to add, "but I would like this done properly. If you could give him this, and convey my congratulations, I would be most grateful."



'Right,' thought Tara as she rode in the transport tube, 'deliver silky lingerie to Talia, have Narn transport get Ivanova's package, give crystal to Drazi, get strawberries. No problem.' She didn't really pay attention when the tube car halted to pick up another passenger.



"It's Miss Maclay, isn't it?" Tara jumped slightly, having been wrapped in her own thoughts. The man standing next to her, maintaining a polite distance, was tall, immaculately dressed and presented, and was smiling at her warmly. She nodded.



"Do I know you?" she asked. The man shook his head.



"My associates and I do business on the station now and then, I may have seen you around from time to time. I understand you've had meetings with several of the senior staff today, including Ambassador Delenn. And you're scheduled to meet the Drazi Ambassador tomorrow morning?"



"Yes," said Tara hesitantly. The man took a step back, smiling, and spread his open palms, as non-threatening as could be.



"Forgive me," he said, "it's my business to know these things, nothing more. May I ask you a question, though?"



"Alright," said Tara warily.



"What do you want?"



Tara thought for a moment.



"Strawberries," she said firmly.



"Strawberries..." the man repeated.



"Strawberries," confirmed Tara. The man looked puzzled. There was a quiet clicking noise - probably the tube car slowing down, concluded Tara, as the doors slid open.



"I'm not sure my associates have any strawberries," said the man.



"Their loss," said Tara, stepping outside. The man was still looking confused as the doors closed.



-----



Tara arrived outside the meeting room quietly confident. The message Ivanova had left on her system last night had been positive, Willow didn't even suspect anything was going on, the transport from Io, loaded with ice cream among other cargoes, was due in within the hour. And Tara had made a quick trip to down-below before taking the core shuttle to the Diplomatic Sector, and her bag now contained something silky and emerald-green, safely hidden away. But the main thing... well, that would probably be the main thing, but the thing that Tara was concentrating on most, was that Willow would get her strawberries and ice cream.



Thirty minutes later, it was clear that Willow would not get her strawberries and ice cream. The Drazi Ambassador had been very apologetic - Delenn's gift had put him in a good mood, and he'd seemed positively crestfallen to be unable to deliver on the request Ivanova had made on Tara's behalf. But, he had explained, there was nothing he could do. The last time a minor shooting match had started outside Babylon 5 - something to do with a pair of Centauri quarrelling over something their great-grandfathers had insulted each other over last century - a stray shot had clipped the station's zero-g cargo transfer bays, and the Drazi's entire supply of strawberries, Narn dewflowers, Minbari nectar berries, and five-day-old swamp-hawk carcasses (for the Pak'ma'ra) had been vaporised.



Tara's attention was focused entirely inwards as she boarded the transport tube out of the Diplomatic Sector, on a mixture of frustration and despair. She had been so *certain* that the strawberries would be the perfect birthday surprise - well, and the lingerie, but that was a different kind of surprise. A table for two in the Open Air Restaurant, looking out over the vast Garden Sector, romantic dinner, and the expression on Willow's face when the waiter brought out Tara's special surprise (the dessert, not the other one) - Tara had been imagining it for weeks, all through her efforts to find the Goddess-damned things, and now they'd been blown up by some pampered stuck-up Centauri who couldn't just meet someone from a rival house without trying to shoot the wings off his shuttle!



Through her uncharacteristic cloud of uncharitable thoughts - 'please let that Centauri have legal trouble with the docking guild,' she was thinking, 'I'll have him and his blasted shuttle impounded for *months*' - she slowly became aware that she wasn't alone. She turned slightly, and jumped when she saw, beside her in the tube car, the hulking, alien form of Ambassador Kosh. Or his encounter suit, at any rate - no-one knew what a Vorlon looked like, but the suit, with its layers of dense, metallic fabric, organic-looking collar and robotic scanner-head, was quite bizarre enough. Tara had never even seen Kosh before. And now here he was, right beside her, the head of his suit turned to stare at her with its single unblinking photoreceptor, cocked at an angle that - for all its blank expressionless visage - made it seem somehow quizzical.



"Frustration," Kosh observed, "disappointment." The deep, old voice - merely a translator built into his suit - overlaid the incomprehensible series of tones and chords that was Kosh's true voice.



"I-I just s-saw the Drazi Ambassador," stammered Tara, "he c-couldn't get a shipment I needed." Tara felt slightly odd telling the station's most enigmatic resident about her strawberry-hunt, but her shock at being face to face with a Vorlon was such that she was in no condition to argue.



"Explain," intoned Kosh, not unkindly, at least so far as the translator rendered his words. And Tara, for no good reason she could think of, began to tell the whole story, from first conceiving of the idea, through all the hoops she'd jumped through, right up to her meeting with the Drazi. The transport tube arrived at its next stop - still in the Diplomatic Sector, presumably where Kosh had been headed - but he made no move to leave, and Tara kept talking.



"I suppose it hasn't been a complete waste of time," she concluded ruefully, "at least Ivanova and Talia, and Delenn, and the Narn will all be a bit happier. And Commander Lochley did seem to like that vegetarian burger, and I suppose Doctor Franklin will be pleased she's given up the rat meat." She'd omitted nothing, except the small matter of the lingerie hidden in her bag - there were some things even a Vorlon couldn't get Tara Maclay to talk about in public. She shrugged helplessly. Kosh made a few musical sounds, which didn't translate. The eyepiece irised open wide, and the golden light inside seemed to intensify. Tara had the odd feeling that her mind was being turned over and examined, then it was over, and Kosh's tall, strange shape was swaying away, out of the tube car. He turned back before the doors closed.



"Be well," he said.



"Um, thanks," said Tara, flashing him a smile. The robotic head tilted sideways again, then he turned, and the doors closed behind him. Tara, surprisingly, felt better. It was true, it hadn't been a complete waste of time. She still had the ice cream, for one thing, and even if it wasn't particularly rare, it was still damned good ice cream, fresh all the way from Earth. So perhaps the Open Air Restaurant plan needn't go to waste. Tara decided to make the arrangements later, before Willow got home. The more she thought about it, the better it seemed - romantic dinner, ice cream, lingerie... and Willow, of course. Even strawberries weren't better than Willow, not by a long shot, and - incomprehensible wonder though it was - Willow felt the same way about Tara. She would make sure it was a memorable birthday.



-----



The night was wonderful. Open Air was just full enough to be a proper night out, and not so much as to be crowded. The station's Garden, in night-mode at present, glittered in the artificial starlight, arching up and over the heads of the diners. The proprietors of Open Air seemed to be in a romantic mood, as the restaurant was lit only by twin candles on each table, and a handful of soft Minbari glow-crystals lighting the way to the exit. The velvety half-darkness had given Willow and Tara the perfect cover for discreet footsies beneath the table, while staring at each other in the candlelight. When a waiter appeared to collect their empty plates, Willow had started to study the dessert menu, but Tara had told her she had a surprise in store. The waiter nodded and departed towards the kitchen, where Tara had dropped off her stash of ice cream earlier in the day.



"What is it?" asked Willow, eyes glinting in the soft light. "Come on, tell me tell me tell me." Tara mimed zipping her lips. "Don't make me use unconventional interrogation techniques," warned Willow, running her toes up the back of Tara's leg. Tara stifled her laugh - once Willow got the scent of a secret, she would not be denied.



"Ice cream!" Willow squeaked when Tara told her. She slid out of her seat and kissed Tara, then sat back down and almost managed not to bounce too excitedly as the waiter returned, his tray laden with two ice cream cups, covered with silver lids.



"You are the greatest girlfriend in the whole galaxy," murmured Willow as she lifted the lid from her dessert. Tara waited, just watching Willow's face as she lifted her spoon and looked down. She could spend hours watching Willow - it was like when she used to lie on the beach, back on Earth, and watch the waves. Always the same, always new, always fascinating, and beautiful, and-



"No," said Willow flatly. Tara snapped out of her reverie. "No way. There is no way I am seeing this."



"What?" asked Tara quickly. Willow's expression was unreadable - delight, shock? Tara looked down at Willow's dessert, and had to fight to contain a squeak of shock herself. Amid the delectable-looking swirls of vanilla and chocolate lay glistening, juicy-looking strawberries.



"I take it back," said Willow, slightly muffled by a mouthful of strawberries and ice cream, "make that 'greatest girlfriend in the *universe*'." And at that point, there really wasn't anything Tara could do but smile.



She even stopped feeling nervous about what she was wearing underneath her dress.

Edited by: Artemis at: 9/11/04 8:47 am

That is just so damn cute. After that whole bit she got some cool ass icecream! Cool loved the last line.



-Will

"I think finding her soulmate would have made Tara a more confident and secure person" -Amber Benson

Awesome!!! A Babylon 5 fic with Willow and Tara! That definitely gives me major happies! And it definitely had a feel about it that's very much like the show, despite the various changes and such. And even the changes were melded in very nicely. Oof, Willow being part of Psi Corps gives me tummy rumbles, though.



Oh, and Tara really is the 'greatest girlfriend in the *universe*'! The lengths she went to get strawberries for Willow... wow! That's so sweet!



Do we get more of this story?



-Mandy

Hi again Artemis,



Well I loved this story too. Babylon 5 is the only other show apart from BTVS that I've found myself in fan mode for and, however unlikely a combination it might seem, you pulled it off really well.



This was a really amusing fic. I loved Tara's encounters with all the B5 characters and the favours she ended up doing for everyone as she bartered her way toward the elusive strawberries. I especially liked her meetings with Ivanova and Lochley (I'm guessing Garibaldi isn't around, how about Sheridan?) and enjoyed how despite her embarrassment when collecting the teddy for Talia she took the opportunity to order one herself.



The scene that made me laugh out loud was when Tara is in the transport tube and is approached by Morden and the Shadows who, misinterpreting what lies behind all her meetings with senior staff, are willing to offer her the kind of Faustian deal that was Londo's undoing.



The man took a step back, smiling, and spread his open palms, as non-threatening as could be.



"Forgive me," he said, "it's my business to know these things, nothing more. May I ask you a question, though?"



"Alright," said Tara warily.



"What do you want?"



Tara thought for a moment.



"Strawberries," she said firmly.



"Strawberries..." the man repeated.



"Strawberries," confirmed Tara. The man looked puzzled. There was a quiet clicking noise - probably the tube car slowing down, concluded Tara, as the doors slid open.



"I'm not sure my associates have any strawberries," said the man.





That was really funny and also so sweet that the thing that Tara wants most of all is to make Willow happy by treating her to strawberries. (though she knows strawberries are nowhere near as important as Willow.) Loved Willow's delighted reaction to her strawberries and icecream and I agree that Tara is the best girlfriend in the universe!



So did Kosh get them for her to make up for her disappointment and for her information about Morden? Actually it's nice not knowing where they came from, I guess they could have come from any of the people she met that day.



Thanks for another enjoyable read and, in what is likely to become a refrain in feedback to all your fics, I hope that you'll continue to write Willow and Tara stories in this setting.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
' What we are today comes from our thoughts of yesterday,
and our present thoughts build our life of tomorrow :
our life is the creation of our mind. ' from The Dhammapada

Artemis--All sorts of good stuff here, including the very subtle message that it's better to give than to receive, but I have to confess that my very favorite line came early on, when I read that "Tara was searching fruitlessly."



OK, that's classic.



Great work, as usual!

Mary

Well Chris...You did it again!



Another delightful fic spot-on with the characterization. I'm not sure how you do it...only rejoicing that you do!



I about bounced myself out of my own seat when the unexpected (but hoped for) happened. There is truly nothing to compare with someone you love taking pleasure in a gift - it's arguably the best thing!



Thanks as always...I head over now to "Shadows" for possible angst and fretting. Probably should have read this second...huh?



~Suse.

Thanks all



willntlover: It took me a while to get the last line right. I'm glad it turned out well.



SuperMandy13: I hesitated at making Willow a telepath, for the obvious Psi-Corps = Evil reasons. But we've seen Psi-Corps telepaths who obviously haven't been reprogrammed, experimented on, emotionally abused, or sent psychotic - Harriman Gray, for example - so I figure Willow is one of those. She's just a P5 commercial telepath, and so far as the Corps is concerned she's just a name in their files. I don't have more B5 Willow/Tara stories planned (this one, a variation on DS9's 'In The Cards', was pretty much my only B5 plot), but there are characters on B5 I'd still like to bounce Willow and/or Tara off that, for one reason or another, I didn't fit into this one. Sinclair, for example, and Londo and G'Kar.



miss calendar: Unlikely combinations seems to be my niche Garibaldi isn't around, not for any specific reason, just that I wanted to use Lochley, and it seemed easier to slip her into the early station in Garibaldi's place, rather than try to rationalise Ivanova, Talia, Kosh and Morden still being around in 2262. Sheridan isn't around because, well, I just don't find Sheridan very interesting, whereas Sinclair is coolness personified (there are times, when I'm watching Sheridan deliver speeches, when I just think 'That would sound so good if Sinclair was saying it'). In the end I just ignored continuity, and used whichever characters I wanted. I suppose (given Talia's statement that it's her anniversary with Susan) it must be at least 2260, if it's their first anniversary, so the Shadow War is running late (actually, the entire Shadow war fleet is floating around Epsilon Indi, yelling "I *told* you to fill the gas tank before we left Z'Ha'Dum!" Strange but true).



Tara buying her own silky lingerie wasn't my idea - she just stopped as I was writing her walking out of the shop, and said "Back up, I'm getting one of those." When characters issue direct orders like that, I don't argue.



That scene with Morden was one of two that I started out with, rather than just making up as I went along (the other was Kosh, though I hadn't worked out what would happen there, just that they'd meet). On one level I did it just for the dialogue joke ("What do you want?" "Strawberries.") of upending Morden's sinister catchphrase. Then I thought about it some more, and decided that it was a serious answer after all - making Willow happy is ultimately what Tara wants, but in all the important ways she takes care of that herself, so the only thing she could possibly want that Morden might provide is strawberries. Later, after I'd finished the whole thing and was re-reading it, I realised that (if you were a pessimist) it's possible that Morden delivered - after all, Tara told him she wanted strawberries, and strawberries mysteriously. But no, speaking as the all-knowing creator of this little bit of Babylon 5, that's not what happened. Tara's answer to Morden was just like G'Kar's (less bloodthirsty, of course) - not something he could use.



Seeing as you enjoyed the ambiguity of the strawberries appearance, I won't go and spoil it too much, so all I'll say is that they had nothing to do with Morden, and *if* Kosh arranged them, it would have been just because Tara is, well, Tara, and nothing to do with her unknowingly telling Kosh what Morden was up to. As Delenn said, her cause is worthy.



AntigoneUnbound: That line was a complete accident - the thought process was something like: 'blah blah blah, Tara searching fruitlessly... oh, that's a dreadful pun... I'm using it.'

That was sooo sweet and well written. I agree best girlfriend in the universe...well after mine of course.

Sweet story. I loved B5 and this AU is just up my alley. It very much reminded me of the show and it's such a gesture for Tara to do all that for her Willow. Thanks!

-----------------------------------

Only 50 cents

This is such a sweet fic Very loving story in a very sci fi environment. Perfect gf Tara is

CheerZ

Shinnen





Who cares how tall your lover is ... height doesn't matter in bed...



For every love there is a heart somewhere to receive it.

that was great and funny.





good job.





brittney

Quote:

---

Kiss this axe, bitch!---Tara "Bargaining part 2"

---

Willow's Head



Author: Chris Cook

Rating: PG

Summary: A peek inside the hectic mind of Willow Rosenberg.

Spoilers: None.

Copyright: Based on characters from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer', created by Joss Whedon, and the TV show Herman's Head, created by Andy Guerdat and Steve Krienberg. All original material is copyright 2004 Chris Cook.

Feedback: Please. Here, or to alia@netspace.net.au



Note: Inspired by the 'Willow/Willow's Brain' dialogues in 'Growth' by Willohand (available from this very board, go check it out).



--

Chapter One (of two)

--



Willow Rosenberg sat as inconspicuously as possible in a faded old lounge chair, kept her newspaper at roughly eye-level in front of her, and tried not to stare too obviously at the blonde sitting across from her. Around them the staff common room of the school was abuzz with activity, as the other teachers did their best to fill up on coffee and conversation during the brief morning recess. Normally Willow would have been among them, busy as ever with her mind already on the next period's science class.



Just talk to her, she told herself. She's new here, go say 'hi', it's the friendly thing to do. Practically everyone else in the room has said hi. She took a deep, steadying breath. You already said hi earlier, when she walked past while you were opening up the lab. Remember? When she gave that little smile and a soft-voiced 'hello' and you went and fell head-over-heels? A wistful smile crossed her features. So if you keep saying hi, you're going to seem like some scary stalker lady obsessed with her! A worried frown creased her brow. You are obsessed with her, she reminded herself. Yes, but in a good way, in a 'you're beautiful and I'd love to get to know you' way, not a 'break out the telescopic lens camera' way.



Willow had heard, at one of those team-building seminars the teaching staff got sent to every now and then where they did 'trust exercises', that everyone's mind was divided between competing impulses. The speaker hadn't really thought the concept through, other than as a way to introduce the notion that they should all fall over backwards and hope their partner would catch them - which was not a good idea, as Willow's assigned partner that day had been the P.E. teacher, who she'd have been lucky to avoid being crushed by if he fell towards her - but the idea stuck in her mind. Often, like now, it seemed to have some merit, as her thoughts whirled back and forth, arguing and counter-arguing endlessly before reaching something approximating a decision.



-----



"Talking to the woman a second time in one day does not in itself constitute stalking," Giles insisted.



"But we might scare her off!" Buffy argued.



"You're paranoid," Anya interjected, "face it, we couldn't be scary if we wanted to."



"We will be if we let you have control of the vocal chords," Buffy snapped. "Xander, back me up here - we need to bide our time, right?"



"Observe the boobies," Xander said vaguely.



"We're not just attracted to her because of her 'boob-'," Giles pointed out, clearly uncomfortable even saying the word, "her physical qualities."



"I am," Xander insisted, not taking his eyes off the view, "you handle the respect for her mind and enjoying her conversation-"



"If we ever have a conversation with her," Anya grumbled.



"-I'll appreciate her devastating sexiness. That's what I'm here for."



"Do you ever think about anything else?" Buffy asked. "All you do, every waking moment of every day, is appreciate everyone's good looks! Which, for your information, is called being a perv."



"Not true," Xander rounded on her, "I've never once thought sexy thoughts about Maggie Walsh."



"EW!" the other three said in unison, as Willow's imagination furnished an image of the stern head of the mathematics department.



-----



Willow paused in the act of taking a sip of coffee, and wondered why on earth, in the middle of musing about whether or not to talk to Tara Maclay, the idea of Professor Walsh had popped into her head.



Ew, she thought.



-----



The inner workings of Willow's mind resembled something Jules Verne might have built, had he had the annual budget of the Pentagon. Valves and gauges lined the walls, hydraulic pipes and pressure conduits ran this way and that, and these was a general impression of intricate activity going on in the brass-plated gadgetry that constituted the automatic processes of her psyche. A complicated arrangement resembling a television screen mounted inside a periscope set among the dials and levers showed a close-up of the newspaper Willow had just turned her attention back to, while the imagination - a strange collection of light bulbs and brasswork that lowered from a hatch in the ceiling like a chandelier - retracted, having delivered its mental image for the moment. On the other side of the room was the bulging filing cabinet of long-term memory, next to the desk where the short-term memory was stored in an impressively large pile of notebooks.



Rupert Giles had been the librarian of Willow's school, from kindergarten right through to her final year. In terms of her academic life Giles had been her greatest influence, a source of guidance and wisdom when she was unsure of what course to pursue, kindness and support when she felt overwhelmed by the demands placed on her. His example had led her to a career in teaching. All things considered, it was no surprise that her Intellect had taken his form.



Buffy Summers, Xander Harris and Anya Jenkins had been fellow students - Buffy was now a triathlete, Xander a civil engineer, and Anya had finished a law degree, acquired a position at a respected firm, and looked set to one day realise her dream of being a judge. In Willow's mind, Buffy - who had always kept Willow firmly in the real world, when she seemed likely to get lost in some esoteric pursuit - was her Self-Analysis, the part of her that double-checked herself, that kept an eye peeled for trouble when her other impulses were in full flight, oblivious to anything but whatever they were focused on.



Anya was Ego, which, had Willow been aware of the forms her various impulses had taken, wouldn't have surprised her one bit. The real Anya was not a selfish person as such, but she had a directness about her that many mistook for the same thing, until they got to know her and realised that her utter lack of pretence was actually a mark of respect for those around her. In Willow's mind, Anya was the part that spoke exactly as she felt, and pursued exactly what she wanted.



When she finally mustered the courage to come out, Willow did so first to Xander, her oldest and dearest friend. He had taken it upon himself to ensure that Willow never felt uncomfortable about her sexual orientation, which, in his appraisal of the situation, meant spending time at the Bronze sharing their mutual admiration for the female of the species. Unsurprisingly, when Willow's Libido had something to add to any internal debate, Xander was the form it took.



-----



"Look," Buffy was saying, while Xander glared up at the imagination and turned his attention back to the view of Tara on the periscope screen, stolen over the top of the newspaper, "it's simple. We can't just go up to her and say 'Hi, I'd love to wake up next to you tomorrow'-"



"We would," Anya said.



"The lady does have a unique presence," Giles noted.



"She's hot," Xander confirmed.



"Okay, granted," Buffy acknowledged, "but if we act like some hormone-charged teenager, she's probably not going to be inclined to grace us with that unique presence, is she?"



"Being friendly is not a turn-off," Anya said flatly. "Show of hands, who wants to go over and say a friendly 'hello', and see where it goes from there?" She raised her hand.



"Count me in," Xander agreed, raising his.



"I think that's a reasonable suggestion," Giles said, "so long as we keep our wits about us, there doesn't seem to be a great likelihood of such an encounter ending disastrously-"



"We're agreed," Anya said, "Buff, do your caution thing by all means, but we're making our move." She strode imperiously over to one of the control panels and pulled a lever marked 'legs'.



-----



Her mind made up, Willow set aside her coffee mug and walked around the table to where Tara was sitting.



"Hi," she said, hoping she sounded casual - not too casual, she reminded herself, don't seem bored or disinterested - "how's things?"



Tara looked up at her, surprised for a split second, then smiled and gestured to the vacant space next to her on the couch.



-----



"Yes!" all four impulses shouted in unison, as Anya pulled the lever to the 'sit down' position.



-----



"Things are good," Tara said, her voice soft - and oh so melodious, Willow thought to herself - "my first classes went well." She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Okay, Willow concluded, cutest thing ever, plus one. "Y-you're the science teacher, aren't you? Physics?"



"Oh yeah," Willow nodded, "physics, chemistry, biology, the whole deal-"



Just then the ball rang the end of recess, and there was a general motion among the common room's inhabitants towards the door.



"Oh, I have a class," Tara said, standing up, "I have to go. Thanks for saying hi."



-----



"Dammit!"



-----



"Yeah, me too," Willow said, trying not to seem unduly disappointed. "Um, see you around." Tara joined the procession out the door, while Willow deposited her newspaper on the table and went to collect her coffee mug.



-----



"If someone hadn't wasted all that time worrying," Anya complained, "we'd have had a good five minutes more to talk with her. We might have a date by now!"



"I think that's a little presumptuous, actually," Giles said.



"We did it right," Buffy insisted, "we were calm, we were friendly, we didn't scare her. Okay, we didn't get much talk-time, but we've laid some groundwork, we can proceed from here."



"We'd have laid much more groundwork if we'd had time to say more than a couple of words," Anya grumbled. She paused as a thought struck her. "Who was it who thought 'melodious', anyway?"



"Ah, that was me," Giles admitted. "You must admit, the lady's voice is-"



"Guys!" Xander called. "Did you see that?"



"What?"



"She waved at us!" he insisted, staring at the screen where Tara was just vanishing through the doorway. "She turned in the doorway and smiled, and did this little wave!" He pointed excitedly to a gauge marked 'reciprocated affection', on which the needle was wavering in the high area.



"See?" Buffy and Anya said triumphantly to each other simultaneously.



"I think we may conclude," Giles intervened, "that both your opinions were valid components in what may be filed as a successful initial approach. Now we simply need to consider what our next step should be."



-----



"Chocolate," Anya said, crossing her arms.



"Flowers," Buffy shot back from the other side of Willow's psyche.



"Chocolate tastes good!" Anya protested. "Flowers just look pretty - and, before you say it, chocolate can also look pretty, if it's nicely-made. We'd be covering all our bases."



"It's too early for chocolate," Buffy argued, "unless it's her birthday or something like that, chocolate is an 'I want to date you' present."



"We do," Xander weighed in.



"I know we do," Buffy sighed, "but as a first step, flowers are our best bet. Flowers say..." she paused and raised a hand, like an actor delivering a soliloquy, "joy, and contentment, and... and polite affection. And there's a whole range, we can move from happy brighten-up-your-day flowers, which won't bother her at all coming from a vague acquaintance and co-worker, to something more deliberate like roses once we're sure we're making the right moves."



"Okay, let's say you're right-" Anya began.



"I'm always right," Buffy insisted, "that's my job, being the voice of reason."



"If you're right," Anya raised her voice to drown out Buffy, "I still think we should go with chocolates at an early stage. Okay, maybe not first thing, but soon - it'll show her we're not some bland, stereotypical creature with no originality. We're bold, we're daring-"



"We're hot for her," Xander suggested.



"-and we don't care who knows it!" Anya finished. "That kind of thing is romantic gold."



"In its proper place," Buffy stressed. "Giles, am I right?"



"I'm trying to concentrate," Giles pleaded, "we're in the middle of giving a chemistry lesson. Just this once, could you talk amongst yourselves and not distract me?"



"Exactly," Anya glared at Buffy, "this is a matter for the heart, not the head."



"Yeah?" Buffy shot back. "Well let's see what it's got to say, shall we?" She picked up an ornate speaking-tube from amid the confusion of Willow's autonomic systems and spoke into it. "Heart? Got anything to say?"



"Eight hundred and seventy-six million four hundred and fifty-one thousand three hundred and ninty-two," a fast-speaking monotone voice echoed out of the tube, "eight hundred and seventy-six million four hundred and fifty-one thousand three hundred and ninety-three, eight hundred and seventy-six million-"



"Our heart," Buffy said, replacing the speaking tube, "has no particular opinion on the matter."



"You know," Xander said thoughtfully, "we could... ask her out... for coffee?" Buffy and Anya looked up at him, surprised, and even Giles glanced up from the notebook he was reading out of, titled 'Chemistry for eighth-grade students'.



"That's... not a bad idea," Anya conceded.



"And not entirely related to nakedness," Buffy added. "How'd you come up with it?"



"Oh ye of little faith," Xander said reproachfully. Buffy and Anya simply stared at him, and he relented: "Okay, okay... coffee dates lead to real dates lead to hugs and cuddles lead to boobies... stop looking at me like that, it's what I'm here for!"



-----



Willow finished drawing a molecular diagram on the whiteboard, and paused in the act of turning back to her class.



Hmm... coffee... there's a thought.



Suppressing a smile, she turned and asked, "Okay, who can tell me what's wrong with this boo- molecule?"



Dammit.



-----



"Target sighted," Xander announced, steering the periscope screen like a submarine commander. The imagination dipped down out of the ceiling and projected a pair of cross-hair sights onto the view, making Xander jump in surprise.



"Who's doing that?"



"Sorry," Anya said, "it seemed appropriate."



"Okay guys, plan," Buffy insisted. "We can't just wing this, we'll get flustered and start babbling and end up talking about quantum physics, or frogs or something-"



"Please don't mention frogs," Giles said in a plaintive voice. One of the filing cabinets behind him emitted a noise something like a distant, echoing 'croak'.



"Right, no frogs," Anya agreed, shuddering. Her voice dropped to a whisper, "those creepy, floppy ears-"



"For the last time, that's bunnies," Giles insisted, "I'm our intellect, I know the difference between a bunny rabbit and... one of them."



"It's no use," Xander said, as Anya shook herself out of her unpleasant reverie, "she'll never get it."



"Just give me the vocal chords," Giles said, pulling a 1940s-style microphone from among the controls. "I'll handle this."



-----



Frogs, Willow was thinking, bunnies... bunnies, frogs... why do I always mix that up?



"Um, hey," she said out loud, reaching Tara just as she was closing up the English classroom, the students having headed home for another day.



"Willow," Tara smiled, "hi."



"I was wondering," Willow said, returning Tara's smile with a widening of her own, "seeing as we were talking before, admittedly not talking exactly - about to talk, when the bell rang, so, you know, in a state of talkiness which would've been realised as actual talking, but for random circumstances outside our control-"



-----



"Give me that!" Anya snapped, snatching the microphone away from Giles.



-----



"-would you maybe like to go out for coffee?" Willow regained control over her babble.



"Um," Tara said, pushing aside her slight bafflement at the tide of verbiage that had just flowed over her, "s-sure... do you know any good coffee places near here?"



"Oh yeah," Willow nodded enthusiastically, "I know 'em all - coffee's my thing. Well, not my only thing, I'm not one-dimensional or anything, it's not like-"



-----



"Thank you," Anya said, turning her attention back to the conversation as Buffy and Xander physically lifted up Giles and carried him back to his corner of the room, Buffy with a hand over his mouth.



-----



"-yeah, I do," Willow said. "There's a place just a down the block that does great mochas."



"Mochas, huh?" Tara replied, her lips quirking into a lop-sided grin, amusement making her eyes sparkle.



"...uh-huh..." Willow said distantly.



"I'd like that," Tara nodded, "I have to grab a couple of things from my desk... see you by the main doors in five minutes?"



"...uh-huh..." Willow repeated.



-----



"What're you doing over here?" Buffy asked, as Anya appeared beside her to help placate an irritated Giles, "who's running the conversation?"



"I handed it over to Xander," Anya said tersely, "we're just agreeing to coffee, he can handle it."



"Oh... so," Buffy tilted her head on one side, "how come we're just saying 'uh-huh' repeatedly?"



"We're what?" Anya said, looking over her shoulder. "Xander!"



Xander was staring into the periscope screen, murmuring 'pretty smile' over and over. Buffy's eyes widened, and she leapt the short-term memory desk and made a grab for the microphone as it fell from his hand.



-----



"I mean yeah!" Willow recovered. "Yep, okie-dokey. Five minutes. See you there."



Tara's smile widened a moment, then she turned and headed for the offices.



-----



"Okie-dokey?" Anya asked witheringly.



"Hey, I'm self-analysis," Buffy defended herself, "I'm not good at improvising."

Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass

A Willow and Tara for every world.

That was great



I liked the idea of the scoobies representing the different parts of Willow's psyche. It was very funny



looking forward to the next part

"VOOM"?!? Mate, this bird wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts through it! 'E's bleedin' demised! - The Parrot Sketch

Edited by: justin at: 9/11/04 12:39 pm

Chris nice story very funny... I agree with justin on u using the scoobs as will's psyche... this was funny:

Quote:

---

"Okay, okay... coffee dates lead to real dates lead to hugs and cuddles lead to boobies... stop looking at me like that, it's what I'm here for!"

---

Very X-man of u... But this line had me

Quote:

---

"Okay, who can tell me what's wrong with this boo- molecule?"

---

Great story.. can't wait for the next part



-reds



my banana dances for smut

Tara in a wet shirt, Tara in a wet shirt. Tara in. A. Wet. Shirt. “Of course.”-Willow From Remember to Breath By Yellow Crayon



Now that just sucks- me

Edited by: WickedReds at: 9/23/04 9:04 pm

Oh man, this is great... a little view of the inside of Willow's mind. Oh, and "Strawberries and Ice Cream" is way cute.

It's insulting to the whole gender[sic] of rap.



~Eminem

Oh man, this is just too gorgeous!



I love the different roles the Scoobies play in Willow's mind, especially that all the babble comes from the "Giles" bit. All Willow's conversational habits are so neatly and satisfyingly explained...it just really appeals to the surrealist in me.



And the heart! Hilarious!



cheers,

mo

No matter how short life may seem, it's still the longest thing you'll ever do.

Well this has to be the funniest introduction into psychology I've ever read



Giles as babler seemed odd initially but it DOES fit. Xander has his usual role I see... all scoobies playing their part was fun to see.



It's an odd setting for sure, but lotsa fun to read



Grimmy

--
"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

I'm a huge fan of yours Chris. This short story was amazing. I especially liked the different personalities and how they all came together and fit so well with Willow.



Southernworm

OMG - that was great!! I love the idea of all the different Scoobies controlling a different part of Willow's psyche. And since this was chapter 1 of 2, I hope that means we get to see the coffee date?



I am much with the and the

-shuyaku

Oh God, Willow—you’re giving me the gift of Karen Carpenter. Just when I think I grasp the full extent of your love." - Tara

"Why do birds suddenly appear? It’s because, you are queer…" - Willow (Gods Served and Abandoned by AntigoneUnbound)

Never in a million years did I ever imagine that there would be a WT uberfic based on Herman's Head. LOL! But now that there is, I'm so glad. And no one could have handled it better than you. The periscope tv, conversations with the heart...you make me wanna watch the show again

As others have said, it's remarkable how you've placed the Scoobies in Willow's head so smoothly, unforced. Poor Willow

Thanks for another great read. Please continue.



btw, I love frogphobic Giles!

It's always a pleasure to read your short stories. So now we know what's going on in that quirky little brain of Willow's. I loved how each part of her psyche reacted to seeing Tara and approaching her. I, too, am hoping that we get a glimpse into the coffee date. Thanks.



Yvonne

Chris,



You never dissapoint! I am loving your short stories. Giles, Buffy,Anya and Xander as Willow's inner voices is hilarious! Please keep these coming!!

-pipsberg



"We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep - it's as simple and ordinary as that."

Michael Cunningham, The Hours

Chris,



I'm lovin' it!



It's so hilarious, and I love how you casted the scoobies , the exchange between Giles-Anya-Xander-Buffy taking over to conduct a conversation with Tara was just...



more plz!!!



~Arwen

Hear That Baby? You're My Always... Willow

Chris, you are amazing! This is so damn clever--I can really see the four stooges arguing in poor Willow's brain. You've perfectly matched each core aspect of their personalities for the roles they play in her head. As much as I love canon fics, I think my favorite thing about Tara/Willow writers is how creatively they adapt the characters to other settings, and you do it so very well. Can't wait for the rest of this!



-Cameron

---

What should I be but just what I am? - Edna St.Vincent Millay

Title: Willow's Head
Author: Chris Cook
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None.
Copyright: Based on characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, created by Joss Whedon, and the TV show Herman's Head, created by Andy Guerdat and Steve Krienberg. All original material is copyright 2004 Chris Cook.
Feedback: Please. Here, or to alia@netspace.net.au

Note: It has been, by my calendar, one year minus ten days since I posted chapter one. I'm so sorry! I swear I thought I'd have this done in, like, a week. But then the question 'So what do Willow and Tara talk about when they go for coffee?' turned up, and I didn't have an answer, and then other fics turned up... and Smut Bunnies got going (which I'm still working on, there will be an update soon - yes, I know it's ironic to be saying that while I'm apologising for not updating in ages), and... a few days ago the answer just turned up in my head, all unheralded, and here we are. I hope you enjoy this, and again, my apologies for the delay-to-end-all-delays.

Note #2: To Justin, WickedReds, TempestDuer, Modjadji, Grimlock, Southernworm, Shuyaku, Sizzlesister, Yvonne, Pipsberg, Arwen, and Cameron: so sorry not to have replied to your feedback already. I generally feel uncomfortable posting if I don't have something new to offer... still, that's no excuse. Thank you all for your feedback, and if you're still sticking around, thanks for having patience with me on this little fic.

[hr]




Five minutes later Willow waited by the school's main doors, distracting herself by watching the last few students hanging around the building's front lawn. One hand was idly playing with the hem of her shirt, though she hadn't yet realised this, or even that she had untucked that side of her shirt at all.

'She said yes!' she grinned to herself, 'She said yes, she said yes... yay for yesses. Yesses make everything better. Well, not everything, strictly speaking, but those things that involve me asking Tara out for coffee. As opposed to, say, "Hey, is that nuclear reactor safety gauge above the red line?", that's be no good if the answer was 'yes'. 'Cause what do I know about fixing a reactor? Nothing, that's what. Well, I know dropping the cadmium rods is a good idea if the reaction is getting out of hand, but you've got to figure the reactor maintenance-type people already tried that and it didn't work, if they've exhausted their options so far as to be asking visiting high school teachers for advice-"

[hr]

"Why are we letting him just go on like that?" Xander asked Anya and Buffy, as Giles continued to talk breezily to himself.

"With luck he'll wear himself out before she shows up," Buffy replied.

[hr]

'-not like it'd be a class field trip, there's not even any reactors in this state, and even if we got the budget for interstate field trips they wouldn't let school field trips go into the bits of the facility where they deal with unexpected meltdowns, they probably have shiny chrome control centres for that sort of stuff, not the kind of place you want someone like Natalie Mercer in seventh grade, or - oh goddess, Tristan Burke, he'd probably trip over the power cord to the main console or something. They must have back-ups, though? Oh face it, he's a klutz, he'd trip over all the cables all at once-"

"Ready?" Tara asked from behind Willow.

[hr]

"We have to say something impressive right now!" Giles yelled, making a dive for his notebooks.

"Our shirt's untucked! How did that happen!?" Anya wailed.

"Did we check ourselves in a mirror?" Buffy countered. "Is our hair okay? Did we clean our nails after all that messing around with soil samples?"

"I'll handle it!" Xander declared, taking control of the voice, while swinging the screen around so he could see it. "Ooh, pretty smile..."

[hr]

"...smile..." Willow replied, trying to sort her thoughts out. "I mean, yes! Hello, and yes, I'm ready."

"Smile?" Tara asked.

"You're smiling," Willow pointed out, "smiling, ergo happy, which is a good thing... 'cause hey, I wouldn't want to think going for a coffee with me is a bad thing, that'd be a bit of a blow to the old self-esteem, you see what I mean... I don't know what I mean. You startled me," she finished, with a mock frown.

"I did," Tara admitted, "not on purpose..." She chuckled slightly. "I don't think I've ever seen someone as deep in thought as you were."

"Yep, my thoughts," Willow nodded, her tone unmistakeably sarcastic, "gotta love 'em."

[hr]

"Who said that?" Giles, Xander, Anya and Buffy all glared at each other, each concealing a guilty start behind a look of indignation.

[hr]

"Let's go get coffee," Tara said, "you can tell me some of them, maybe I will."

"Uh-huh..." Willow said, slightly baffled.

[hr]

"Will what?" Xander asked.

"What was she saying before?" Anya added.

"What were we saying before?" Buffy countered.

"'Gotta love 'em'," Giles replied, clearly unhappy with the abbreviations.

"Love... thoughts?" Buffy frowned. "Us? Did she just hint what I thought she just hinted?"

"She loves us!" Anya jumped for joy.

"She might," Buffy corrected, "conceivably, hypothetically, in a not very serious joking-around sense-"

"She loves us!" Anya barked sharply.

"Jeez Ahn," Xander said gently, "ego much?"

"That's what I'm here for," she replied calmly.

"Which pretty much explains what I'm here for," Buffy added quietly.

"Indeed," Giles said, "but if I may suggest a course of action, we've been grinning in a rather silly fashion for several seconds now, so saying something might be in order?"

[hr]

"Oh!" Willow said, realisation dawning. "Oh, well... thanks! Yep... well sure, lots of conversation over coffee, I promise - you want my thoughts, you got 'em."

"Conversation over coffee sounds good," Tara smiled, "lead the way."

"Soitanly," Willow joked in a fake Mobster accent, for no good reason, "I just have to..." she waved a folder stuffed full of papers vaguely, then a worried frown crossed her face.

[hr]

"Oh god, the car," Buffy moaned.

"What? It's a car, what's the big deal?" Xander asked.

"It's not just a car," Buffy protested, "it's a SmartCar, it looks-"

"Cute," Anya insisted.

"Eccentric," Buffy countered, "what if she-"

"She'll love it!" Anya insisted. "This is a woman who appreciates individuality, and says 'no' in no uncertain terms to the forces of soul-crushing conformism. She'll love the car."

[hr]

"...just have to put these in my car," Willow finished, glancing apologetically at Tara as she took a few steps towards the car park.

"Of course," Tara nodded, following. Willow resisted the temptation to look over her shoulder as she opened her car with the remote on the keys and quickly dumped the folders on the passenger seat. Steeling herself, she turned around.

[hr]

"I can't bear to look," Giles said, covering his eyes.

"We collectively don't want to hear whining from you right now!" Anya snapped. Buffy shook her head at the two, and remained silent.

"I'm looking," Xander reported from the periscope.

"Is she smiling?" Buffy asked. "Is it a happy smile, or a gee-what-a-dumb-car smile? Please don't tell me we blew our chances by having a dumb car-"

"It's not dumb-" Anya interrupted.

"Xander, is she smiling?!" Buffy demanded. Xander shrugged.

"Look at her face!" Buffy, Anya and Giles said in unison. Xander cringed and adjusted the periscope.

"Looks good," he said warily.

[hr]

"So..." Willow said, returning to Tara's side.

"Nice car," Tara said. Willow bit her lip and ventured a sidelong glance as they fell into step together.

"Is that 'nice' meaning 'nice', or 'nice' meaning 'eccentric but I'm being diplomatic, and really just mentioning it as a way of getting the conversation going'?" she asked, all in one breath.

"Nice as in nice," Tara laughed. "Besides, who said there's anything wrong with being eccentric? I like eccentric."

[hr]

"Ha!" Anya crowed.

[hr]

"I am!" Willow grinned. "I mean, me too - I like eccentric. I am eccentric, in fact, and I like it. Which is good, because otherwise, I'd have issues, you know?" Tara laughed again.

[hr]

Buffy studied two of an array of mercury-filled tubes, somewhat resembling thermometers, among the clutter of Willow's mind. The one marked 'embarrassment from babbling' wavered around half-way up, while on another panel one with a hastily-handwritten sign declaring it 'giddy feelings from Tara's laugh' had broken its top and was bubbling silver liquid down the wall.

"Survey says: keep babbling," Buffy said over her shoulder.

[hr]

Willow and Tara sat side by side on one of the Caffeine Drip's comfy, slightly-worn sofas and sipped their mochas. In unison they closed their eyes, leaned back a fraction, took a slow, quiet breath, swallowed, and sighed. Willow peeked at Tara, who peeked at Willow, and they giggled at each other.

"Was it good for you too?" Willow asked.

"You can accuse me of being insatiable," Tara smiled, blushing faintly, "but I'm in the mood for another sip."

"Beats rolling over and going to sleep," Willow agreed. They sipped, leaned, swallowed, and sighed again.

"You did it deliberately that time," Tara said.

"I admit nothing," Willow replied airily.

[hr]

"Did we do it deliberately?" Giles asked Xander, while Anya and Buffy took turns with the microphone.

"Only the second time," Xander said. "It seemed funny... trust me, we can't go wrong if we're making her laugh. I know whereof I speak."

"Unless she happens to be laughing at us, choking on our coffee," Giles warned darkly, glancing at the girls.

"Buff! Ahn!" Xander called. "Drink then talk! Not simultaneous!"

"More babble, do you think?" Giles wondered.

[hr]

"I'm fine," Willow chuckled, taking a deep breath. "My lungs heard from my stomach how good the coffee was, and wanted to try some for themselves - you know how they get, pesky lungs, all pushy just because they're a major organ. I mean," she went on, as Tara giggled, "if your big toe, for instance, wanted some coffee, I bet the stomach would just be 'eh, whatever, later', and forget all about it. Poor big toe, it must be tough being an appendage. All the work, none of the glory. Except opposable thumbs, they're like the appendage diva, getting all the credit for all of human civilisation. I bet the other fingers are jealous, it's not like a thumb on its own could do anything, it needs fingers to grip against..."

[hr]

"Sweet Jesus, enough is enough!" Xander protested.

[hr]

"...and it's been quite a while since I shut up, huh?" Willow finished.

"I didn't want to stop a good thing," Tara smiled. "Do your thoughts always rush around like that?"

[hr]

"Damn metaphorical imagery," Xander complained, looking down to find himself clad in a track athlete's shorts - very tight shorts - and singlet - likewise. He looked up to see Anya similarly attired.

"Mmm-mmm," he murmured, grinning. He glanced at Buffy.

"Oh yeah," he nodded approvingly. A disgruntled sigh caught his attention, and he turned to look at Giles.

"Ahh!"

[hr]

"Oh yeah," Willow nodded, putting the sudden twitch in her leg down to having been standing up in class all day. "You know how people say they'd lose their head if it wasn't nailed on? Mine needed extra nails to keep it down." She paused. "And thinking of Frankenstein's monster now, not such a great image."

"I'm surprised your hair is still its original colour," Tara quipped. "It seems like it should have left its original spectrum."

"I could dye my hair and claim it blue-shifted over night," Willow agreed with a laugh. "Though, it'd be relative - I mean, for example, blue shifts only occur in an object moving away from the observer, so you, for instance, would see a red shift, possibly into infra-red. Being that my thoughts are directed at you. Get it?" she asked hopefully. Tara laughed out loud and nodded.

"Do you make your classes this much fun?" she asked, catching her breath. Willow shrugged modestly.

"I'd like to think so, but I think what teachers think is fun will never correspond to what students think is fun - it's a fundamental law of the universe, or something. I could try dyeing my hair blue and see what they think?"

"I like your hair the way it is," Tara said, venturing a winsome smile, which as far as Willow was concerned, won hands down.

"Then red it stays," she agreed. "I don't think blue hair works anyway, except in cartoons."

[hr]

"Oh god, don't let him start up about the cartoons," Buffy moaned in dismay, as Xander pulled up an armchair by the microphone and got ready to prose at length.

[hr]

"True," Tara nodded sagely, "and you're not quite tall enough to be Zentraedi."

[hr]

"What did she say?" Anya asked, as Xander's eyes lit up.

[hr]

"You're kidding - you watched Robotech too?" Willow asked.

"Saturday morning cartoons were bonding time for my brother and I," Tara said. "Though to tell the truth, I preferred Transformers."

[hr]

"On the positive side," Giles noted, as he, Anya and Buffy sat around the desk, "we appear to have things in common with the lady in question, which is unarguably a good thing. On the negative," he shot at glare at Xander, who was talking a mile a minute, "we may be here for days."

"But Jetfire was imported from the Robotech line anyway," he went on, unperturbed. "Anyway it's bases of operations that we should be looking at, and the SDF-1 would turn Metroplex into scrap metal..."

"Why the heck is it that he always takes over when we discuss this sort of thing?" Buffy wondered. "I've checked our endorphin levels, I know for a fact Robotech does not turn us on... how come Libido goes nuts about it?"

"Boys with toys," Anya shrugged.

"Technically he's not a boy," Buffy pointed out. "We're all a girl, remember? Even you," she added to Giles, and then grimaced at the thought.

"So?" Anya repeated her shrug, with an extra touch of dismissive. "Technically we're not talking about toys - dad never bought us that robot plane, or whatever it was-"

"VF-1S Valkyrie," Xander said over his shoulder, before turning back to the conversation he was conducting for Willow and continuing: "Sure it couldn't take Unicron, but it's hardly fair to compare a capital ship to a god..."

"See?!" Buffy protested. "Two conversations at once! Normally he can't even think about two body parts at once - how the hell is he doing that?!?"

"Boys with toys," Anya said, giving one more shrug for the road.

[hr]

As the afternoon moved toward evening the conversation moved on, through work (Giles, with a side of Anya), hobbies (mainly Anya, with Buffy keeping Xander from saying anything risqué), and somehow on to most embarrassing high school moments (Buffy's fifteen minutes of fame). Giles heaved a sigh of relief and ticked off 'gay' on his list of 'necessary qualities for furthering our relationship' when Tara mentioned her coming out as one of hers, while Xander did a happy dance perilously close to the levers controlling Willow's legs, almost causing her to happy dance along.

"Sorry," she said, having nearly overbalanced the teacup balanced on her knees, "I was just having a spaz moment there. Promise not to tell my students?"

"If you promise not to tell mine the story I just told you," Tara grinned, with shyness and flirtation meeting on her face at a point marked 'adorable'.

"Your amateur theatre secrets are safe with me," Willow promised. "Though, I must say, I bet you made a great songbird."

"You're not just saying that because it involved a one-piece swimsuit and a pair of tights as my entire costume?" Tara teased.

"Um," Willow blushed.

[hr]

"Various sounds of hesitation," Giles, Anya, Buffy and Xander intoned.

[hr]

"Sorry," Tara dropped her gaze and let her hair fall across her face. "Just teasing... I think all this school reminiscing has mentally taken a few years off me, I couldn't help myself..."

"Well..." Willow said, stalling while she thought of what to say next.

[hr]

"Follow up!" Anya insisted. "That was flirting, follow it up! Flirt back!"

"We don't want to appear crude," Giles cautioned. "Just because she mentioned a certain costume-"

"Aaaaaaugh," Xander burbled happily.

"You're drooling on the blush regulator!" Buffy pointed out. "Our face is going critical."

"-it doesn't necessarily follow that her humorous reference was directed towards its, ah, visually appealing qualities - she may have simply been making a joke at her expense, indicating the embarrassment she felt while wearing it-"

"What if we were to reassure her that it's the sexiest thought we'd ever had?" Xander offered.

"No!" Buffy silenced him. "We're not doing anything that results in her running away and filing sexual harassment charges at work in the morning!"

"We have to flirt back somehow!" Anya insisted. "If we just sit here dumbly she'll get discouraged-"

[hr]

"Oh- I didn't realise how late it had gotten," Tara said, having glanced idly at her watch. "I should... not that I'm trying to get out of here, but I haven't got anything ready for dinner. Come to think of it, I haven't bought anything for dinner yet, I'm still unpacking and living off take-out." She flashed Willow a shy smile.

[hr]

"Now she's leaving!" Giles, Anya and Buffy shouted accusingly at each other. Unseen, Xander scooped up the microphone.

[hr]

"If you don't have plans," Willow suggested, "and if you're not tired of my company... I know a place? I wasn't really looking forward to a home-cooked meal anyway, which, if you knew my cooking, you'd understand. Can I interest you?"

Tara blinked in surprise, then hid behind her hair again for a moment.

"I-I'd have to go back to my apartment," she said. "I should change, and I've got some laundry to put in the machine... but," she looked up, and gave a hopeful smile, "if you'd like to pick me up around eight...?"

[hr]

"Xander," Buffy said, looking at Willow's libido with new respect.

"That was..." Anya chimed in.

"...inspired," Giles finished.

"I have my moments," Xander said modestly, leaning over and pushing the 'agree' button on Willow's preset responses.

[hr]

"No problem at all," Willow smiled. "Eight o'clock it is."

"Then you can definitely interest me," Tara agreed.

[hr]

"Woo-hoo!" Anya, Xander and Buffy chorused. Anya then glared at Giles and elbowed him in the stomach.

"Say 'woo-hoo'!" she ordered.

"It's not that I don't share the sentiment," he protested plaintively, "I simply choose not to express it in such an... undignified manner..." He looked around, and shrunk under the withering glare of the rest of Willow's psyche.

"Oh very well," he muttered with poor grace. "Woo-hoo."

[hr]

Forty minutes later Willow stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, rapidly whirling the items of clothing laid out on the bed over her body and checking herself. She studied a thin red sweater for a moment, then discarded in favour of a black spaghetti-strap top, which she seemed satisfied with for all of one and a half seconds, before dropping it and returning to the wardrobe to further empty it.

"Dammit why can I never decide what to wear?" she griped.

[hr]

"We've got good legs, why not tight pants?" Anya demanded.

"Why not a skirt?" Xander countered. "What's with the covering of the legs, if they're so good?"

"We're having dinner, not giving a lap-dance," Buffy frowned.

"Mmm... lap-dance..."

"Great work," Anya sniped at Buffy. "As if we weren't distracted enough already."

"Perhaps something more formal?" Giles ventured.

"What's wrong with the sweater?" Buffy whined. "It's cute!"

"Like you said, we're having dinner," Anya argued. "Not, in this case, trying to get ourselves adopted from the pound. Cute is-"

"Whoa, what?" Xander blinked, rejoining the debate. "What's wrong with being adopted? I'm all for us being adopted by Tara."

"I think they do checks for mental instability before they give you a pet," Buffy huffed.

"There's nothing wrong with Tara," Giles said, confused.

"I meant us!" Buffy shot back.

"People!" Anya shouted. "Focus! We're not a pet, and we're not trying to get Tara to take us home and put a collar on us! Now could we just-" She broke off as Xander lost consciousness and collapsed, with an enormous grin on his face.

"Great work," Buffy said, false-chirpily. "As if we weren't distracted enough already."

[hr]

Willow finally arrived at Tara's building, in grey jeans and a long-sleeved green shirt that had been the only survivors of a detailed process of elimination, and checked her watch.

"Two minutes early," she muttered.

[hr]

"You're insane with this time thing," Buffy pointed out.

"We said eight o'clock, so we'll arrive at eight o'clock," Giles insisted calmly, fending her away from the levers for Willow's hands.

[hr]

After two minutes of pacing and watch-checking, Willow finally gave herself the go-ahead to push the buzzer, and pushed it. It was an old brick building, two stories comprising four apartments in total, and there wasn't an intercom that Willow could spot. She waited patiently, forcing her face into a casual smile, as a light came on in the stairwell vaguely visible behind the door's frosted glass, and footsteps descended.

"Hi," she said as the door opened, hoping not to sound too cheerful, to the point of undue eagerness. "Are you rehuh muh guh?"

Tara, leaning casually against the doorframe, dressed in a long, flowing blue skirt that was tight in all the right places around her thighs and hips, and a loose sleeveless navy top, raised both eyebrows in confusion.

[hr]

Buffy whirled around in shock.

"Xander!" she shouted. "You're drooling on our vocal cords!"

"Muh huh?" he asked. "Oh... right. Sorry."

[hr]

"I mean, are you ready to go?" Willow corrected herself. "There's no hurry, I can wait..."

"No," Tara shook her head, resuming her smile. "No need, I'm ready." A noise from behind her startled her, and she glanced over her shoulder.

"Oh," she grinned, turning back to Willow, "They're redecorating the apartment opposite me upstairs... some couch dodging may be required." She and Willow moved into the corner out of the way as a man and a teenage boy came lumbering down the stairs, carrying a heavy sofa between them, and staggered through the narrow doorway.

"Sorry we're at it so late," the man said in passing.

"No problem," Tara said with a polite smile. Willow offered a smile as well, then turned back to Tara to say something, which she completely forgot.

[hr]

"Oh my god!" Anya exclaimed. "She... us... confined space! We're this close to her!"

"We can smell her perfume," Buffy said dreamily.

"Xander's drooling again," Giles warned.

"That's okay, just keep him away from anything vital," Anya waved a hand vaguely at him.

[hr]

"So..." Tara shrugged, taking a deep breath. She and Willow were standing very close in the wake of the couch's passage, and neither was moving away.

"Uh, yeah..." Willow nodded slowly. "The car's outside... I guess, we should... go?"

"Yeah," Tara agreed, her gaze flickering up and down between Willow's eyes and her lips.

"Um, you look... good, by the way," Willow ventured. "Very..." she trailed off.

"Uh-huh," Tara said, "you too... I... like that top... Suits you..."

[hr]

"Stand aside," Xander declared.

"Xander what are you doing?" Buffy asked, as he reached for a button marked 'peck on cheek'.

"We are getting signals," he said definitively. "They are strong signals, and we are responding. Stand back!" Nervous emergency lights flashed on as Xander picked up a mallet, broke the glass over the button, and pressed it.

[hr]

Tara blinked as Willow leaned forward the fraction that was required and brushed her lips against her cheek. It was over as quick as that - Willow was leaning away again, not quite able to meet her eyes, before she had even realised what had happened. Tara put a hand on her cheek, where she felt the memory of Willow's lips, and stared at her, mouth hanging open in surprise.

"I-I'm sorry," Willow stammered. "I thought... that was totally wrong, I'm so sorry I don't know what happened, I'll go, if you want, I didn't mean anything and I promise I'll-"

[hr]

The inside of Tara's mind had the appearance of a Renaissance artisan's workshop - stone walls, polished hardwood floor, Tuscan sunlight streaming in through shuttered windows, oil lamps here and there, and every surface piled high with manuscripts, old leather-bound books, sketches, spare canvasses, paintings, and models of wood, string and cloth.

From behind an easel bearing a portrait of Willow, Tara's libido crept out, hefted a heavy illuminated manuscript above her, and smacked her pessimistic self-analysis over the head with it.

"Want? Take. Have," she said, dropping the book on a table as her rival collapsed dazed to the floor.

[hr]

"-completely my fault, and you have every right to be upset-"

Tara leaned forward, cupped Willow's face in her hands, and kissed her babbling mouth firmly. Willow's eyes went wide as saucers, then slowly closed as the kiss lingered on, as Tara, while her mouth remained closed for now, made no secret of the pleasure it gave her to savour Willow's lips.

[hr]

The Jules-Verne-mission-control and the artist's studio merged together in a bewildering mix of styles, leaving the components of Willow and Tara's psyches staring at each other across the meld between their two worlds.

"Hi," Tara's libido said, stepping forward, pointing to herself. "Faith, Larry, Jenny Calendar," she gestured to the others around herself, "and the one taking a time-out is Donnie. We're Tara."

"We're Willow," Buffy replied, approaching the newcomers. "Nice to meet you."

[hr]

_________________
Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.

It really is for everyone's good. I'm claming dibs. Why? Cos this is so Chris doesn't have to worry about who is replying first (like he does?) and he can go work on that hing due the other day that certain people are waiting for. So, yeah? Dibs to watty.


ETA:
Having multiple characters in one's brain? Sure, I can relate. There's crazy watty, there's the very subservient gaynowwhipped, there's original shy H.W. and then there are the other 645 personalities all lining up for their turn.

Going back to Part 1 (which I did read but it was a year ago when I was still a lurker), I'm very amused at the usage of our favourite Scoobies as parts of Willow's brain. Their inter-conversations, the pep-talks. It's ingenious and hilarious.

And I did a little "yes!" and a little fist pump action too. Yay!

Onto Part 2.

It's ironic, that the coffee date is gonng be in 5 minutes, and that 5 minutes actually turned into ... 511,200 minutes (that's 355 days ). Heh, I'm gonna continue to rub this in, aren't I? I'm evil, yes I am.

OMG, Willow has a SMARTCAR????


The four of them vying for the microphone, which does explain Willow's ... um ... quirky ... speech patterns.

And then we get to experience the pilots steering Tara's head! Oh, the ooodles of fun that group of 8 will have! *evil grin*

That was fun!!!! Thank you Taskmaster.

_________________
quiet thoughts

I love this. Very cute and very original. I never thought that looking inside Willow's head would be so much fun! Thank you for this.

_________________
I am a writer, writer of ficitons, I am the heart that you call home. I've written pages upon pages trying to rid you from my bones. -The Decemberists "Engine Driver"

WOAAAH UPDATE!

This was an awesome chapter... from an awesome story! I liked the idea of that show, I've seen it one or two times. You did sucha great job with Willow's! Is there gonna be more? Yes?? Waahooo

_________________
'Tara Tarantula. Hairy black legs. Now that's a thought.'
-Sleek, Three Words

Well that was an interesting visit to the hospital.

After waiting for ages I finally got to see a dr who asks me how I managed to rupture all my organs. I answered it happened whilst I was reading this story, I showed it to him. One moment he's chuckling to himself the next his sides have split and all his organs have fallen out. not a pretty sight.

Then another dr comes in and asks what's going on. I said, "I was just showing him this story and..." He took a look at it and was soon laughing at it and then... his head fell off

Or, in other words. This story is too funny

I especially liked Xander drooling over Willow's vocal controls causing her to go all non-verbal.

The ending was great. I can totally see Faith as beeing Tara's Labido

ETA: at your sig.

My sentiments exactly, F&#%ng Seattle Airport!

_________________
02/28/2007

*snorts, inhales laughs even longer and harder* That *giggle* was was * one of the funniest things I have ever read in my *snort* life... This is why I HEART CHRIS!!!

_________________
"Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly." -Rose Franken
"I think when I cease to go to the bathroom, then I can call myself famous." -Amber Benson
"I'd rather be a fake lesbian than a sorority girl."- A Rugby Teammate
"The Hammer is my Penis," Captain Hammer, 'Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog.'