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: Let's shift this thing out of neutral. Fire, but no s'mores. Few lines from 'Family' and 'New Moon.'
Thoughts in italics
PART 52
Tara couldn't remember the last time she had had a fire. She lay prone on the couch, her head resting lightly on a pillow she had made the year before, her legs covered by a soft blanket knit by a friend. She hardly ever used her fireplace for anything other than the odd arrangement of candles or dried flowers; the roaring fire that currently lit the room, though beautiful, seemed slightly out of place. The fireplace was mostly neglected because her favorite work was installed on the wall above. She knew the painting wasn't in any real danger from particulates—she had specifically selected a gas fireplace to help minimize exposure—yet, she still tended to err on the side of caution and avoid its use. However, this afternoon, filled with gusty winds and copious amounts of rain, called for it. Besides, what's a little smoke, she thought, thinking of all of the religious works in churches for hundreds of years. One afternoon won't do irreparable harm.
She stretched and then relaxed, wishing she had a cup of tea to nurse as her eyes lazily watched the flames across the room dance. Fire reminded her of her childhood. The wood burning stove in the lodge's office was heavily used during winter, and she couldn't remember a chilly weekend when her father wasn't out back chopping wood for their stone fireplace at home. She snuggled down further into the couch, and hoped that wherever Willow was she wasn't freezing to death.
Thoughts of what Morgan said earlier in the afternoon floated through her mind. All those hours worrying about nothing. She felt a mixture of relief and agitation. Relief that she was no longer charged with figuring out how to avoid dating Morgan, relief that Morgan had let her off the hook in the most gracious way possible. Agitation, because in doing so Morgan had taken a highlighter to her diary, footnoting her secrets with other people's perceptions of her love for Willow. She let loose another shaky breath. She felt like things were coming to a head, and the thought scared her to her bones.
She looked across the room and saw the shadow of her jacket hanging near the secretary table. Her cell phone was in her pocket, and she could so easily walk across the room, pluck it free and call Buffy. But then what? As much as she wanted to talk to Buffy about Willow, about what all of this meant, she dreaded the petite blonde's reaction. Almost as much as she dreaded Buffy's reaction when she found out about Morgan.
"Again?!" She could hear the petite blonde's dismayed voice echo in her mind. Yes, again. Yes, again, she fortuitously ended up evading another first date. Buffy always insisted that she fully supported Tara waiting for the right person, but the blonde also knew that her former roomie wondered how she'd ever know if someone was "The One" if she didn't at least go on one date. "First impressions aren't always the best," Buffy once said. "I mean, imagine if I had just gone by my first impression of Riley, what with the wholesome grinning at you and partial concussion." She knew Buffy was right, but, also knew that that rightness was based on the assumption that Tara was not already desperately in love with "The One." The blonde didn't need a string of first dates to find her; she found her three years ago. All she needed was for the universe to do her a solid and make Willow gay and interested in her. Tara sighed.
She arched her neck to study the black behind the window, listening to the sound of rain pelting the thick glass. Gale force winds created creepy echoing howls, and she subconsciously snuggled deeper into her couch. She turned her eyes back to the fire and did her best to enjoy the flame-lit solitude.
She heard Willow before she saw her, keys turning first in the deadbolt and then the lower lock. Tara squinted her eyes to see her roommate's shapeless form as she shuffled into the apartment, the redhead lit intermittently by flickers of flame before succumbing to the shadows. She seemed like a ghost in the dark, two-dimensional as the fire across the large space barely illuminated her, and the blonde had to strain her eyes to pick the movement out of the dark. Tara's stomach fluttered in anticipation.
Willow struggled to enter the apartment, balancing her bag and umbrella as she locked the door behind her, drops of rain falling from the hood of her coat around her face. She turned and was struck by the sight of fire in the fireplace, her roommate curled up like a cat on the couch. Okay, so the fates decided to send me back to literal fire, she thought, her eyes wide. She furiously scanned the space for Morgan. It was all too romantic. The fire, Tara, adorable in low-light. The redhead's step faltered, and her mind momentarily broke into a thousand pieces as she tried to simultaneously process all of the various intimate scenarios that suddenly played in her mind.
"Hey," Tara said gently, turning on to her back and sitting up a bit on her elbows to better take in her roommate. The soothing sound of her voice snapped the redhead out of her thoughts, centering her attention on the girl on the couch.
"Hey," Willow replied as casually as her nerves would allow. The fabric of Tara's shirt had pulled tight across her breasts and the redhead momentarily lost her train of thought as she took in the enticing sight. She shook her head slightly to bring herself back. "Where's Morgan?" Her eyes moved to the stairs, imagining the answer to be, 'bathroom.'
"She's not here," the blonde answered, her voice soft in the darkness.
"No?" The redhead replied, surprised, as she pushed the hood from her face and placed her dripping umbrella in the pail next to the secretary table. "Just left?"
"D-Didn't come over." The blonde kept her eyes trained on her roommate. First thing she asks about is about Morgan...?
"Oh." Willow put down her soggy bag and moved to unzip her coat. "Why? Rain?"
The blonde shook her head, sitting up more fully. "Marissa helped instead."
"Oh." The redhead felt stupid for her simple response, but it was all she could manage. Marissa helped—but I thought it was a date?
"Power out at the cafe?"
Willow nodded, removing her jacket and hanging it next to the secretary table. "It's out everywhere. Well, not everywhere, I'm sure there are somewheres with power, just, our vicinity everywhere, no power." She shook her legs lightly to dislodge stray drops of rain as she spoke. "Khalil said it's out in the Panhandle and Andy said it's out in Bernal Heights."
"Bad storm," Tara said.
"Naughty storm," Willow modified as she walked toward her roommate, the blonde smiling at the redhead's words. "I'm going to have a lot of work tonight. You know, provided the lights come back on." The redhead stopped a few feet from the couch, her hands clasped before her.
Tara watched as a slight shudder shook her roommate's form. "You look cold."
Willow nodded. "Could have used that Paddington Bear outfit," she said, hoping Tara would pick up the reference from the other night. "The outfit, being a blue slicker and red galoshes." She paused slightly, a soft smile on her lips. "I looked it up. You were right."
The blonde smiled brightly, remembering. "Sit down, warm up," she offered, bringing her knees toward her to sit cross-legged as she pointed to the couch. "Unless, you'd rather go change–"
"I'd like that," Willow interrupted. "Warming up, I mean." She moved forward. Tara shifted a little on the couch but the redhead bypassed her and went straight to the fire, standing in front of the flames to let the very wet cuffs of her pants dry. "First time I've seen a fire in the fireplace," she said without looking away from the blaze before her, her hands placed palm out to warm. "Usually it's just candles in there. The fire's definitely extra flamey."
Tara smiled then turned serious, her eyes growing dark as she took in the beauty before her. The redhead's curves stood in silhouette against the flickering light, orange, yellow and red caressing the outline of the girl's shirt and pants. The flames illuminated the redhead's fiery hair, creating a color of red that Tara wasn't sure she had ever seen before, sparks of gold spun in shimmering copper around the girl's crown. All of it, the way Willow stood still before the flames, a mystery against the bright backdrop, was breathtaking, and, Tara realized with her own shudder, achingly erotic.
"So how long has the power been out?" Willow asked, turning her head innocently to face the blonde. Tara looked to the floor, but not fast enough, the redhead catching a glimpse of the blonde's half-lidded gaze. Another brief shudder ran through Willow's bones, and this time she knew it wasn't from the cold.
"About an hour," Tara said as she stretched back out to lay on her side, her head nestling into the pillow, her now neutral eyes returning contact with the redhead.
"Same," Willow said, swallowing hard as she turned back to the fire. "At the cafe, same. They stayed open for a little bit, maybe 25, 30 minutes, but then PG&E came by and said it might take a while so, they kicked us out. The cafe workers, not PG&E."
"So, power out means no computer..." the blonde led.
"Nope. I mean, yep," the redhead replied, confused. "No computer." She rubbed her hands together and then turned to face the blonde, letting the fire warm her from behind. "The battery on my laptop has a little juice left, but no router so can't connect to the server." She smiled then made her way to sit on the floor, one side facing the fire, the other facing Tara. Settled, she gingerly turned her head to face the blonde. "Power out means no painting, or..."
"Hmm, the power's out both literally and figuratively," the blonde smiled softly, her fingers pulling at the blanket covering her hips. "I actually, painted last night, k-knocked out a new piece, so, sort of recharging."
"Tara, that's great," Willow said, with genuine happiness.
The blonde smiled proudly. "Thanks."
"What's it of?" The redhead asked, shifting a little to diffuse the building heat on her side. "If that's okay to ask; totally okay if you don't want to tell me."
"The Fillmore," Tara supplied. And you.
Willow nodded, a proud smile tugging at her lips. "Inspirational place."
"Yup," the blonde said. Inspirational you.
"I'm sure it's beautiful."
"Thanks." Tara looked down to her hands momentarily. "You um. You can come see it, later, if you'd like. You know, when there's light."
The redhead smiled sweetly. "I'd like that."
"Cool," the blonde said, bobbing her head. After a long moment of silence, she said, "I'm calling it 'Neon Choir.'"
The redhead's face screwed up in misplaced recognition. Neon choir, neon choir- "Hey, that's from my song!" Willow exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. "Well not mine, I didn't write it, but... right?" Tara nodded. "That's so cool. That you named it that." After a slight pause, she asked, "Why? I mean, why did you name it that? If that's okay, cause, you so totally don't have to–"
"It's okay." Tara said with a smile, before shrugging. "I just, I had that song stuck in my head," massive understatement, "and the energy," you, "last night, just, glowed."
Willow beamed. That song was one of her favorites. It reminded her so much of that day in the park. The perfect day with Tara. The day she had ended hundreds of nights thinking about as she drifted off to sleep. She felt proud that the song had obviously inspired Tara, along with The Fillmore, and she wondered what it was about the song that spoke to the blonde. Was it the turn of phrase, the swell in the music? Something, else? She almost asked, before reining the question in. If Tara asked her what the song meant to her, what any of the songs meant to her, what would she say? She turned her attention back to the fire.
After several long moments of rain-soundtracked silence between them, Willow took a deep, calming breath and spoke, her earlier confusion over Tara and Morgan's phone call bubbling to the surface. "So..." The redhead's voice drew Tara's eyes up to meet her own. "No Morgan."
"No Morgan," Tara repeated, wondering at this new line of conversation.
"I thought it was a date." Tara's brow knit, and Willow quickly continued. "I mean, work yada yada, but, it was always just an excuse to see you, right?" The redhead was a little surprised by her boldness, and she held her breath waiting for a reply.
"Probably, b-but, the timing..." The blonde sighed, taking in the confused look on her roommate's face as a light blush covered her own. "We're not going to, see, each other... The timing isn't right."
"Too busy today?" Willow said as innocently as possible, hoping the blonde would further clarify.
"No..." Tara further blushed. Way to be vague... "I just, it's not going to w-work out, with us. Dating, wise."
"Oh," Willow said. And she should have felt relieved, because the big bad threat had miraculously disappeared, however, she didn't feel relieved. Didn't feel relieved at all. She felt, a lot of really, really confusing things. She tentatively pressed, her voice as light and friendly as possible. "Was it a you decision, or a her decision?"
Tara was caught off guard. "Her," she said slowly.
"Oh," the redhead said, her frame subtly deflating.
"But, I. I'm glad," the blonde amended, the words surging out of her in an attempt to, to what? Reassure her? She watched as Willow's wide eyes looked up and searched her own. "If she hadn't I w-would have." She rolled her eyes at the admission. "If I could have figured out the right words..."
Willow nodded. "So, you're... okay?"
Tara was surprised at the redhead's persistence. "Yes." She looked away. "M-Morgan's great, but she's not..." you. She sighed. "It wasn't a good fit."
Willow nodded. Well if she wasn't so special, why lie about it? Her heart churned.
"How was the cafe?" The blonde asked, eager to change the subject.
The redhead shrugged, her mind still unsettled and focused on why Tara hadn't mentioned Morgan's call, why she had said it was a text from Dawn. "It was sufficiently non-Starbucksy. Nothing wrong with Starbucks, just, this place was very not corporate coffee house. No Ray Charles CDs to buy at the register or anything."
"Let me guess," Tara said with a teasing smile. "Mocha?"
The redhead broke into a wide, guilty grin, her mood momentarily lightened. "Mochas, actually," she dipped her head as she emphasized the plural. The blonde chuckled lightly, and Willow defended herself. "It's actually good, though, because of all the work I'm going to have to do tonight. Might be a late one, and now I'm sufficiently hopped up."
Tara shifted slightly, turning her shoulders to more comfortably face the redhead. "So, what happened with work? Yesterday you were so confident that it would be an easy day."
"Khalil and Andy—my co-workers—figured out something that I thought would take them longer, so, we're ready to move on to the next stage." Willow sighed, a weary smile turning her lips. "And of course, the next stage is a big stage. At least, initially. Lots of things to iron out."
"Ah," Tara said with a slight nod. "Sorry."
"It's no big," the redhead said. She looked down to her pant leg and ran her fingertips along the cuff, testing to see how fast it was drying. Morgan's phone message looped in the back of her mind, and she frowned slightly as the mix of emotions began to swirl inside of her. Anger. Impatience. Hurt. And most of all, weariness. She sighed, so soft that even she couldn't hear her breath escape her lips. She was so tired of avoiding saying what she truly felt. What she wanted. What she needed.
The two girls fell into silence. Tara shifted her head to angle her gaze at the ceiling, realizing that by facing the fire she was staring at Willow. Staring at Willow: Nice for me, p-probably creepy for her. She watched as the fire sent shadows across the high ceiling, the rain slapping against the glass behind her offering a discordant accompaniment to the monochromatic dance.
As the moments turned into minutes, and the minutes added up, Willow grew more and more unsettled. Why didn't Tara just tell me Morgan called last night? Especially if she wasn't even interested in her? Why say it was a text from Dawn? The lying, the phone call, Dawn; it didn't make any sense, and the lack of sense was starting to make her stomach hurt and her head spin. After a long while, and various sounds of internal hesitation, she decided to speak.
"Tara," Willow said softly, her voice bare. The blonde shifted to face the redhead, the pillow rustling beneath her head. "How come you didn't tell me Morgan called last night?" Tara was struck mute. Caught. "I heard the message this morning," the redhead disclosed, dipping her head. She looked back up and they made eye contact. "I'm just wondering why you told me Dawn texted instead."
What? Tara's mind reeled. "Dawn did text." Willow frowned slightly. "M-Morgan called later, when I was in the bathroom, at the restaurant?"
"Oh," Willow replied, her face unchanged. Again, I should feel relieved, right?
"It w-went to voicemail," the blonde further explained. "I didn't– It wasn't the right time, to talk? I was with you and–"
"Okay," the redhead interrupted, her eyes dropping to the floor. So it had been a misunderstanding and omission... Why don't I feel better?
A moment passed, Tara watching Willow's profile across the room. She struggled with the redhead's tone, struggled with what she thought the girl had just– "You thought I lied?"
"No," the redhead immediately defended, snapping her eyes back to meet the blonde's confused gaze. "I." She shook her head, then rolled her eyes. Caught. "Lying's such a, negative, word." She winced as she backpedaled. "I was just, confused. Seemed like a weird thing to lie about, but it seemed to match up, time wise. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything, much less assumed..."
"I wouldn't lie to you, Will," Tara said, her voice soft, her gaze sincere. She looked down, afraid her eyes might give her away. I wouldn't lie, she thought, except about this secret, all-consuming unrequited love I have for you. That, I lie about every single second of the day... She looked back up and met the redhead's eye.
"Ok," Willow nodded, smiling at the blonde's use of her nickname. "I'm just." She paused as she tried to figure out the best way to word her concern, shifting her body to warm her other side, her face again turning serious. Vulnerable. "I'm sort of, worried, that you don't think you can talk to me, about, stuff."
Tara blushed. "There honestly wasn't anything to talk about. I didn't even take the call."
"But why not mention it?" Willow asked, her voice insecure, the hurt plainly visible. "I mean, we talked about Morgan at the show."
"I know, I just..." She tried to think of how to explain why she hadn't mentioned it. She knew why, of course. Because the night had been about her and Willow; she didn't want Morgan there, didn't want the specter of what could be to interfere with what was. She frowned. How do I explain to Willow that I didn't want Morgan on our... whatever last night was. "It's, hard for me to talk about that stuff..." with you... she trailed off.
"What, phone calls?" The redhead asked, trying to lightly press without upsetting the blonde.
Tara cringed at her roommate's tenacity. "No... Morgan."
"Oh." Willow said, her head dipping a little. "But. Why?"
Again, Tara's brow crinkled. Why did this matter so much to Willow?
The redhead shifted to more fully face the blonde. "I mean, this last Saturday at cake you seemed fine talking about maybe dating her and now it's hard?" The confusion was plainly visible. "Did I, did I do something, or say something to make you think that you couldn't talk to me about–"
"No, no." Tara shook her head, sitting up a little. "You've been..." How has she been? Other than overly interested in your love life? The blonde sighed. Cake. When Willow had insisted Morgan was Tara's perfect girl. Her ideal. The blonde swallowed hard, an unpleasant memory from three years prior momentarily seizing her. "I just." She sighed again. The whole truth was too raw. Too close to her ultimate truth. She shook her head. What she was about to say, though; it would come close enough, and for now, that would have to be enough. "The whole, thing w-with Morgan. It's another, chance, to date, that didn't work out before it even went anywhere. I guess I'm, self-conscious." Tara looked down at her hands.
There was a pause. "You're self-conscious... with me?"
Tara looked up. The open, stung look on Willow's face broke her heart. The blonde swallowed hard and looked down at the couch. "B-Buffy gives me a hard time about not dating more, even if I don't think it's going to go anywhere."
"I'm not Buffy, " the redhead said. Tara looked up, surprised, and a soft, reassuring smile appeared on Willow's lips.
No, no you are not... the blonde thought with a shuddering sigh. "Is um, is that why you left this afternoon?" She watched Willow shift, uncomfortably. "To go to the cafe? Because of the phone call?"
"What? No." The redhead flapped her hand unconvincingly. She looked up and met Tara's confused stare before looking down and absentmindedly picking at imaginary fluff on her pants. "I mean, maybe a little. I just." She looked up. "I didn't want to be in the way."
Lot of that going around, Tara thought. She looked from her roommate to the couch and back. The ball was in her court; she could change the subject, ask more questions about the cafe, muse about the raging storm outside, or, or she could be honest. Maybe not all the way honest... She glanced at her roommate. Definitely not all the way honest... she thought as the love she felt for the girl swelled inside her chest. But honest enough. She could tell Willow why she was self-conscious at least, why she was dreading having to tell Buffy that she had let yet another prospect slip through her fingers. After a long pause, she spoke slowly, her voice confessional. "I'm self conscious, because I'm inexperienced."
Inexperienced...? Willow shook her head, confused. "But, Jill..."
Tara's eyes went wide as she understood the implication of her word choice, and how Willow had chosen to take it. She had meant dating; Willow seemed to have taken it as– "Oh."
The redhead immediately recognized her mistake as the blonde blushed deep red, a dark enough hue as to be easily discernible in the low light. Willow sputtered, "I'm sorry. You meant dating and I, you said 'inexperienced' and I thought, not that I think, I mean, I'm not some perv who, I mean-"
"Willow–"
"Because that was so–"
"Willow," Tara repeated, loud enough to snap the redhead to attention. "It's okay," she said, her face burning as she realized her knee-jerk reassurance had essentially just invited Willow to further inquire after her sex life? Her whole body flushed, the flames seemingly reaching across the room to tickle her skin and boil her blood. She snuck a look at her roommate and puzzled at the girl's line of thought. Morgan, now Jill?!
"I have foot-in-mouthitis," a remorseful Willow blurted. "It's, it's an awful affliction. Lots of embarrassment and, embarrassment. Doctors recommend just ignoring me."
As if I could ever ignore you, the blonde thought with a ragged sigh. "At least it's not debilitating," she quietly chided.
"Says you..." Willow shook her head, her own face scarlet. "I'm so sorry, I'll be quiet."
Tara watched as the once open girl closed up, and the sight made her heart hurt. "I don't want you to be quiet," she said softly. Their eyes briefly met before Tara dipped her head.
You've embarrassed her. Thoroughly embarrassed her. Willow shook her head. "I'm dumb. A big, dumb, dummy."
"No, you're not," Tara said with an unexpected, light laugh. The look on Willow's face; she couldn't help it. "It w-was an easy mistake to make." And... A memory tickled her mind of a recent conversation with Buffy. "And honestly, out of everyone on this Earth... well maybe that's going overboard... just. Willow... Willow has her own stuff, stuff that's equally–" "Humiliating?" "...She knows, what it's like to be hurt by a first. A couple of firsts, actually... You don't have to worry about what she thinks about you, or you and Jill... if anything, I'm sure she'd be a sympathetic ear if you wanted to talk about it." Tara swallowed hard. Wasn't this the level of intimacy she had always craved from the redhead? Even, even... She looked again to her roommate, who had curled up on herself and was now rubbing an invisible spot on the floor with her right thumb. The woman she adored. The woman who, in a perfect world, she would eventually make love with. Sure, her past with Jill was embarrassing, but, but... Was it really that big of a deal? Wouldn't she have to tell Willow this eventually, if, if... Tara swallowed hard and looked up, deciding to trust Buffy. To trust her own instincts. To trust Willow. "It's not far from the truth, actually..."
"What is?" The redhead said, looking up innocently.
"Me," the blonde said shyly. "Being inexperienced..."
Willow took in the new admission with a low, silent breath. She could tell from the way Tara looked around the room, any place except her, how difficult a confession that was to make. It was a long, awkward moment before the redhead spoke, her voice slow and curious. "But, you guys dated for a long time..." How can you have been in such a long, intense relationship and still be 'inexperienced?'
Tara nodded, a blush still on her cheeks. "More than a year."
"So..." Willow led, confused.
"So, we.... but it w-was..." The blonde sighed. "Our relationship..." She tried to think of a way she could possibly describe her time with Jill in the least embarrassing way possible. "Our r-relationship was, um, it was, weird."
"How so?"
"We w-were together all the time, but it was so secretive..." She shook her head at the memory. "I mean, we didn't even hold hands in public until we were in college, and even then it was rare." She smile ruefully. "It, um, it made her uncomfortable."
The redhead's heart ached for the blonde; who wouldn't be proud to shout from the rooftops if they were with her? But still, it didn't add up. They had been together for a long time, surely... "The lack of public stuff doesn't make you inexperienced, though." Willow just about slapped herself when Tara's face again turned dark red. "I'm sorry! Again, with the mouth and the foot–"
"Willow, stop apologizing, it's, it's okay." She sighed. This was harder than she thought it would be. "Just." She stopped, realizing she didn't even know what the redhead knew of her relationship with Jill. Just what Buffy had said a few weeks prior. That Willow knew they were involved, that Jill was her girlfriend. That Jill went 'straight' and that she left. The redhead obviously assumed that she and Jill had been lovers, a fair assumption given the amount of time they had dated. But beyond that... She shook her head. "I don't even know w-where to start..."
Willow saw Tara floundering. The redhead wanted to change the subject, steer their conversation to safer waters and save the girl the obvious embarrassment, but the curiosity was killing her. Tara as inexperienced pretty much shattered her preconceptions about the blonde's sexual prowess, and she was insatiably intrigued to learn more about Jill and the one relationship she knew Tara had had. Plus the feeling that the blonde trusted her enough to talk about something so obviously personal... the redhead felt like she could float away, basking in this newfound rapport. She again looked to her struggling roommate, and in a soft, kind voice, asked, "How did you meet?"
Tara looked up and met the redhead's eye, a grateful smile on the blonde's lips. "The diner. Well, high school, but, we never talked there until the diner. Her father worked the first shift at the mill, and he'd drop her off on his way to work. I worked mornings as a short order cook, and after a couple of weeks we ended up walking to school together."
Willow's questions were cautious. Slow. "Did you know that she was..."
"She didn't know," Tara said, emphasizing the pronoun with a rueful smile.
"Did you know, you, were...?"
The blonde nodded. "I hadn't t-told anyone. Especially not her, but, I think, I think she figured it out after a month or so of me following her around like a l-lost puppy."
There was a long pause. "How, did you guys...?"
"She kissed me," Tara said simply. "Behind the diner. I had just washed up and was walking back to meet her so we could start off to school and she just sort of, jumped me." She ducked her head in embarrassment. "It w-wasn't very romantic. Kind of rough. Then we walked to school and didn't talk about it for a week."
Willow's stomach churned at the thought. She really did not like this girl Jill.
"After that week she kissed me again before school, only, longer. Still s-sort of rough." The girl focused on her hands, playing with the blanket that covered her legs. "It became a pattern, kissing before school. Then it was, kissing after school. Then, she started to sleep over, and it was a little more than kissing... though, not, all the way..." She blushed at her how school girlish she sounded. She looked up and met Willow's steady gaze. "Her dad was remarried and he and his new wife had two kids under two; Jill used to spend the night a few times a week to get away from the dirty diapers and bottles."
The redhead nodded. "That was okay with your dad?"
"He didn't know, about us, obviously, so, he didn't really care as long as we w-were quiet and didn't bother him. My brother used to make jokes, but I don't think he knew either. Was just being Donnie." She sighed and looked back to her hands. "Jill... she, she had a hard time, with... us." Willow just listened. "She wasn't very, affectionate, when we weren't f-fooling around. It felt like, that's all she wanted me for, you know? To, um, to scratch an itch." She sighed. "She went on dates, with boys...." She smiled and looked up. "Always ended up back at my window, though. It was. It was really confusing."
"I'll bet," Willow said softly.
"I finally, f-freaked out on her one day, after a few months, told her I couldn't keep doing what we were doing. Told her that I loved her, and asked if she love me back. She just stared at me and then left." There was a long pause. "I didn't hear from her for two weeks, though I'd see her at school, obviously. Then she just, showed up at my window one night and said that she couldn't be away from me."
"But not–"
"'I love you,'" Tara nodded her head. She briefly smiled at Willow before continuing. "It was late winter, we were deciding on colleges—if, we were even going. I got a scholarship to come here, she got in, too... She kept saying, if we got away from everyone things would be different. And I believed her." She paused. "We thought about requesting a room share but she said she thought it would be better if we didn't, that it would attract too much attention. Thank god..." Tara said. "I don't know if I would have met Buffy otherwise." Willow smiled. "We moved down, and things... they didn't change. I mean, they changed a l-little, became more, physical, intense... But, she never wanted to hold hands, she'd, cringe if I tried to touch her in public." The blonde took another long moment to collect her thoughts. "She always looked around like, like we were being watched. Even alone she was, jumpy..." She sighed.
"Had you...?" Willow led.
Tara nodded. "That summer, we started to, but–" She swallowed hard. "Jill." She stopped again. "Jill never wanted to, be, with me, all the way." She looked over at her roommate and saw the confused look on her face. "We were, intimate, but." She sighed hard, frustrated, and looked down at her hands. She couldn't find the right words. She finally decided to be blunt. Honest. "We, we had sex, but never fully undressed. It was like, she was ashamed, of herself. Of me. W-What we were doing..." She ducked her head. "It always happened so fast. Like, we had to rush through it or it w-wouldn't happen. I kept thinking that she would relax, realize that we didn't have to go so fast, like someone would w-walk in on us, that we had time to be more– But she... she'd pull away every time I'd try." She sighed, a dark blush on her cheeks. "So. Inexperienced."
Jealousy, anger; Willow tried not to outwardly seethe. She really, really hated this girl Jill.
"She went home for Thanksgiving, and didn't come back. At least, not right away." The blonde shook her head at the memory. It seemed like forever ago. "I f-freaked out; I didn't know what was going on, she wouldn't return my phone calls. About a week before finals she showed up and started to move out. Said she was dropping out, going home. I just sat on her bed and cried, and she was like, a machine. Wouldn't even look at me. I was so confused, and..." She sighed. "I went home a couple of weeks later for Christmas and she had a boyfriend. She said she wasn't 'that way.' That I probably wasn't either, if I really looked into my soul, and that if I was..." Tara looked down. "I didn't think I'd ever stop crying."
Willow gritted her teeth. Hate was too mild a word for what she felt for this girl Jill. She held her breath, lest she accidentally let loose a string of invectives that would quite clearly and colorfully let Tara know exactly how much she hated her ex.
"I came out to my dad that weekend. He listened, said it sounded like my private business. Not his concern. Only time we ever talked about it, about me..." She looked to the redhead, who just looked back, her green eyes kind and understanding, and the blonde had never been more grateful for silence in her whole life. This, Willow's ability to listen without comment or judgement was one of the reasons why she had fallen in love with her in the first place. A vision of tulips floated into her mind, and the blonde had to fight back the tears that were starting to form at the memory of that perfect day in the park. "You um, you know those postcards you get from the dentist?" She quickly said. "The ones that you get every six months that remind you that you have an appointment coming up?" Willow nodded her head. "About six months after Christmas, Jill called me at school. Right during finals, to remind me that she still wasn't, 'that way,' and that she still had a boyfriend and that she still wasn't interested in me romantically."
"Why?" Willow asked, appalled.
"I don't know," Tara shrugged. "That was the last time I heard from her." The blonde took a deep breath. "One of the last times I talked to my brother, at my dad's funeral, he said that she had gotten married to that guy she had been dating, that they had a kid. That the guy was cheating on her with some woman who worked at some bar."
The redhead sat still, stunned silent. She had known it was bad, Buffy had said as much, just, not that bad. To be so used, so taken for granted by the first person you loved, the first person you... She was overwhelmed by the awfulness. And it was all so crystal clear. Why Tara didn't mess around with straight girls. Why any future partner needed to be 100 percent out. The redhead felt pain for the girl, what she had been through. She fought the urge to cross the room and curl up next to the blonde on the couch, hold her, kiss her and reassure her that she deserved so much more, tell her that she wanted to give her so, so much more, but, who was she to do that? Her closet never felt smaller than at that moment. She pressed her palms flat into the floor to center herself. After a long moment, she asked, "Do you think she's really straight?"
Tara smiled ruefully and shook her head. "I have no idea. I just, I h-hope she's happy." She made eye contact with the redhead. "I doubt she is, though..."
A long silence settled between them, Willow digesting what Tara had shared, Tara trying not to freak out over sharing something that until now was known only to Buffy. The rain pelted the window, the fire continued to flicker. The space between them was still.
"I'm really sorry that she did that to you," Willow finally said, her soft voice loud in the void.
The blonde looked up, and instead of the pity she expected to see, saw genuine warmth. The look on the redhead's face was tender, protective; Tara's breath caught at the sight. It was beautiful and unaffected. It was... She ducked her head, unwilling to give voice to that thought. "Thanks," she said softly. "It was such a long time ago... sort of, feels like another lifetime." But then, everything pre-Willow feels that way... She ran her finger along the piping of the couch cushion. "Embarrassing though. Just try and top that..." She had meant it to be a joke, and was surprised when the redhead began to speak.
"I think I could..." Willow softly chuckled, hoping her light tone would help Tara feel less uncomfortable. The redhead traced her own finger on the hearth stone. She didn't think she actually could "top" Tara's experience—what Jill did was beyond horrible—but after what the blonde had just shared with her, how could she not be similarly open? "How about my online-only, sophomore-year-of-high-school boyfriend Malcolm that everyone, including my bestest buddy Buffy thought I invented so I didn't seem like such a love life loser?" The blonde shifted on the couch to face her roommate. "This before she realized I wasn't lying and became instantly creeped out by the fact that he was online-only and thus very likely 45 and a sex freak living in his mother's basement."
"Was he?" The blonde asked with a teasing smile.
"And then, there was initial dating of Oz," Willow smoothly transitioned, glossing over Tara's question with a tight, embarrassed smile. The blonde's brows arched to her hairline. "Which, included him refusing to kiss me. Or hold my hand. Or, anything even remotely boyfriend-like despite many dates, anvil sized-hints that I wanted to get with the smoochies and at least one instance of me actually asking if he wanted to make out." She paused. "He said no." She smiled. "He thought I had feelings for Xander and that I was using him to not be bothered by the fact that Xander was hooking up with my worst enemy, Cordelia."
Cordelia. Tara knew the name; Xander had been dating her during their early college years. "W-Were you?" She asked, her voice a little more serious than before.
Willow smiled again, embarrassed. "I didn't think I was. I really liked Oz. He was funny, and cute, and in a band which was, way cool for a nerd like me. And Xander never gave me the time of day, romantically-speaking." She paused, and picked at the seam of her pants. "So, imagine my surprise when I cheated on Oz senior year with Xander."
Tara swallowed hard. She knew about their high school indiscretion. 'The Fluke,' is what Buffy had called it.
The redhead made eye contact briefly before continuing. "It was stupid, just a few makeout sessions, not even all the way to second base..." She paused. "Still. Pretty awful of me." She paused again, blushing fiercely under Tara's unwavering gaze. "Took a long time to get Oz to forgive me after that." She traced the stone she sat on. "I'd had a crush on Xander forever. Ever since seventh grade. Cordelia, she called me a clown; red hair, clown..." Tara looked sympathetic. "Xander made me feel better. He said that I didn't look like a clown because he was afraid of clowns, and he wasn't afraid of me. Cue the violins," she joked, rolling her eyes. "No matter what I did to try and get him to notice me, that way, though..." Her voice turned confessional. "He just looked right through me. And then Buffy moved to town and he was like, so, in love with her. I don't think he even noticed that I was a girl and eligible for his attention until I started dating Oz. Then it was like, he woke up to me, you know? Like suddenly I had potential?" She paused. "After such a long time pining after him... it was really hard not to be flattered when he noticed me." She sighed. "Not that that's an excuse, there was no excuse. But, the kissing... Guess I had to get him out of my system."
"Did you?" Tara held her breath.
"I thought so." Willow shrugged her shoulders and shifted slightly. "I mean, I thought I was over him, until I heard about him and Faith later that year, after our... thing. That… that really hurt her ‘Willow points’.” She paused. "Did I mention that I tried to seduce Oz into being my first by dressing real fancy and playing him Barry White?" She again paused. "He said no."
Tara's brow furrowed. The pain of finding out about Xander and Faith still registered in the redhead's voice. Exactly how long had it taken Willow to get over the dark haired man, if, she's even over him? And Oz. Who in their right mind would turn Willow down!? The blonde bobbed her head, trying to let everything soak in. "Wow."
"And those aren't even close to being the best one," the redhead said with a pained smile.
Tara braced herself. "There's s-something worse?" It had to be Xander. Even if they're just friends now, there were still years of hurt there.
Willow nodded. “Sophomore year of college, Oz cheated on me." Her voice was small, a sad smile gracing her lips. "As in, home plate with another girl, cheated on me.” The resulting silence was deafening.
Tara was floored. “What?” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. Everything before had been awkward, sure, but... She could clearly see the lingering humiliation on the redhead's face. The residual heartache. It broke her heart, and made her ha– She stopped herself. It made her intensely, intensely dislike Oz.
“I guess it was payback, or karma," Willow said as cheerfully as the painful memories would allow. "He always insisted it was just a one-time thing, though… I sort of saw it coming." She paused. "She—the other girl, she—was a little too interesting, you know? Heard a few too many, ‘Veruca saids,’…” The redhead looked up and saw Tara silently watching her. “He left town a couple of days after it happened. Sent for his things a few weeks later, it was… surreal. I thought I was never going to see him again, but then one day about a year later he just, showed up, and we got back together." She shook her head, remembering how confusing that time in her life was. "It was another couple of years before we broke up, for real, and those last two years; we weren't really together much... He toured, a lot. I was busy... uh, with school, a lot. It was sort of like, we were together. But not.” She paused. “We don’t, talk. He was sort of adamant that we make it a clean break. Best for him…” She paused again. “Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if I turned some corner when I was 80 in Istanbul and ran into him." She shrugged her shoulders and picked at the grout between hearth stones with her fingertips. "He’s Oz.”
Tara was stunned. She knew they had broken up for a time, but not why; Buffy had been vague, and the blonde never pushed despite her raging curiosity. She marveled at the obvious affection Willow still held for the man who had betrayed her, marveled that Buffy had managed to keep this secret, marveled that the redhead had managed to not let her feelings towards Oz bleed through when they were all out at the Halloween party their junior year. She quickly did the math in her head; they must have only been back together a week or so, tops. Maybe that's why Willow had been so close with Xander that night...?Not because she wanted him, but because she was wary of Oz? She had always wondered why Willow had stayed at her and Buffy's apartment, while Oz and Xander bunked at an old bandmates. She felt like history was suddenly rewriting itself, if only subtly.
“Remember when I came to visit, sophomore year?” The redhead's question brought Tara's eyes back to her roommate.
“Of course,” she replied, softly. How could I forget the day my life changed, the day we met?
“I walked in on Oz and Veruca about two hours before I got on the plane to fly out."
The blonde's face fell, her heart constricting. “Willow….”
"I had forgotten my chemistry book over at his place, and so I thought I’d just, pop by and get it. Didn’t expect to pop in on them all naked on the floor." The redhead paused. "Not one of my best mornings.” She smiled awkwardly. “I was sort of out of it that whole weekend.”
Tara nodded. She had had no idea, Buffy had never said anything, never hinted at anything so severe. At that moment, the blonde could not have been more impressed with the petite blonde's loyalty. She knew Buffy disliked Oz after he and Willow broke up the first time, was wary when they got back together—the petite blonde had said as much. But, cheating? Tara knew Buffy well enough that she had put on a good face for her, that Buffy likely simmered with rage at what Oz had done to her best friend and that if left alone in a room with the short man she might have just beaten him to death with a shovel. She again remembered Buffy's recent words. "And Oz... just. She knows, what it's like to be hurt by a first. A couple of firsts, actually..." Hurt didn't seem a big enough word for what Oz had done to the redhead. After a short pause, Tara said, “I thought you didn’t like me.”
“What?” Willow asked, startled.
The blonde shook her head. Way to just blurt out whatever random tangent you’re thinking, Tara. “I, I t-thought you didn’t like me, that weekend?" She explained. "When we met, you sort of just, stared.”
Willow remembered that moment with perfect clarity. The moment they met. The first moment she laid eyes on the girl she would come to love fervently. How Tara had looked at her, her kind eyes the clearest blue she had ever seen. How the redhead had momentarily felt powerless to look away, forgetting for a split second how much she hurt because of Oz. "I did," Willow said, panicked. "I did like you. I liked you a lot." Okay, rein it in a little. "I mean, as much as you can in a two minute introduction where one person is a jet-lagged, non-flesh eating zombie with a broken heart and the other person is...." the most beautiful girl in the world. The redhead frowned. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way." The thought that Tara had been under such a false impression of their first meeting, that the blonde thought she had been—what? Dismissive?—for five years, killed her. No wonder Tara had run away from her at the Halloween party. She thought you were... Harmonyesque. Willow shuddered. "I'm so sorry."
Tara sought to reassure the obviously distressed girl. "Really, it's no big deal."
"But it is," the redhead insisted, distraught. "Rude much?"
"Willow, I understand," the blonde said. "You were going through a lot, and, it was a long time ago."
"I was, going through a lot, but not so much that it would be okay to make a perfectly nice person feel bad." She shook her head. "I'm really sorry."
"It's okay," Tara said with soft laugh. The redhead's pouty face was adorable, and the way she endeavored to correct an ancient misperception was... The blonde caught Willow's eye and gifted her with a lopsided grin. "Really. Obviously I didn't hold it against you," she teased.
"Thank god," Willow gratefully blurted. She saw Tara cock her head slightly. "Cause, who knows where I'd be living right now if you had," she quickly covered, twisting her hands before her, her eyes wide.
Tara nodded. There was something in the redhead's voice. Something... She shook her head. "Um, s-speaking of housing, I saw you had some envelopes when you left..." She smiled cautiously at her roommate. "Condo applications?"
"Oh, yeah," Willow said, shifting her position again. No matter how she angled her body, she was starting to feel uncomfortably warm in front of the fire. "I thought, what the heck. I don't even know if I'll be selected to place a bid, and if I do, whether I like them enough to buy. But. I should try. I guess."
The girls retreated into the silence. Tara's mind drifted to three months prior, when Willow moved in, a practical hermit. It was three weeks ago that they had gone to the Kitten club with Buffy, Willow still not much more than a live-in acquaintance. A week later, the redhead gave her the glass bead bracelet, just because. Five days ago they went to Morgan's party; a painful, confusing night for both of them. The previous night, the concert. The last hour or so spent in the dark. They had grown close, yet Willow was still an enigma. The blonde felt she knew her roommate, and didn't at the same time. There had been so many surprises, so many new pieces revealed about and by the once reticent woman, and every revelation led back to that girl she fell in love with in the park. There was still so much left to learn, and Tara was suddenly seized with the fear that once the lights came back on, Buffy came back, Willow moved out... that she'd lose it all. Lose Willow. That all of this, the warmth she felt just sitting across the room from the redhead in silence would disappear like a mirage in the desert. The thought scared her to death. "If you ever, get your own place. I mean, we'd still hang out, right?"
"What?" Willow asked surprised, her head snapping up to take in the blonde.
Tara blushed. She hadn't meant to sound so desperate. "I just mean, w-would we s-still hang out, if you lived someplace else?" Though she tried, she couldn't hide the insecurity in her voice.
"Of course," Willow answered forcefully, her voice alarmed. "It's not even a question. I mean, is it?"
"N-No, no, I... I guess..." The blonde trailed off. "I've just, really e-enjoyed, the time we've..." She paused, then smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "You know how it is, it's different when you live with someone, share your space with them. I, I guess I had similar concerns when Buffy and I got our own places..."
"Tara..." The redhead paused, searching her mind for the right words. "You're important to me. Spending time with you, getting to know you. We're friends." She paused. "No matter where I live."
"Okay," the blonde replied with a shy, relieved smile. Her heart just about burst as she instantly replayed the words in her mind, 'You're important to me.' She met Willow's eye and the redhead smiled back, her lips pressed together warmly.
They drifted off into silence again, the rain reemerging in their consciousness. Willow shifted again in front of the fire. She was burning up, but she was afraid to move, irrationally fearful that it would change this quiet, confessional dynamic they had crafted. For five minutes she fidgeted, left than right until finally she couldn't take it anymore. She saw the question on Tara's face as she stood. "I'm going to spontaneously combust if I stay in front of the fire much longer," she said, sheepishly. "Do you mind if I..."
"No," Tara said shaking her head, moving to sit up, thinking her roommate intended to sit next to her on the couch. Instead, Willow crossed the room quickly and sat down in front of the couch; Tara stared at the back of the redhead's head, surprised by where the girl ended up.
"Is this okay?" Willow asked, her eyes locked on the flames across the room. She didn't want the blonde to think she was crowding her but it was the furthest point from the fire without leaving the room or taking to the couch; neither an acceptable option in her mind.
"Of course," Tara replied. She could smell the redhead's shampoo, she was so near; could feel the heat pouring off of the slim girl in waves. "You're hot."
"Hmm?" Willow said, not daring turn around. Tara's eyes went wide and she quickly elaborated.
"F-From the fire? You're all warm."
"Oh," the redhead replied. "Do you want me to move?"
"No, it, it feels good," the blonde said. "Like my own personal space heater." Willow smied. "A-Are you sure you're comfortable, do you w-want to sit on the cou-"
"No, I'm good," the redhead replied quickly. There was no way she could sit next to Tara on the couch. Willow knew that if she ended up on the couch she'd be unable to stop herself should toes touch, hands innocently brush over each other as they reached for the blanket... She bit her lip, suddenly hot in new places.
"At least take a pillow," Tara said, reaching around and providing a small pillow. Willow took it with a shy smile.
"Thanks." She put it in the small of her back and relaxed her shoulders a bit, sinking into the sturdy surface behind her.
After a long while spent sharing the silence, Tara's fingertips started to absentmindedly stroke the ends of Willow's hair. It wasn't planned, or fraught over, just silk running over fingerprints. Neither girl really noticed at first, the touches were so faint, until a particularly definitive stroke caused the redhead to shudder. "I'm sorry," Tara quickly said, as she pulled her hand back to her chest, embarrassed by her forwardness.
"Don't be, it felt good." After a brief pause, Willow bumped her head softly against the couch twice, a not-so-subtle invitation for the blonde to continue. So there'd be no doubt, the redhead asked, "More please?"
Tara lightly chuckled. "Sure..." She brought her hand forward and resumed the delicate touches. Both girls silently sighed at their connection, and again they slipped into silence. About twenty minutes went by before Willow spoke.
"Amuse me."
"Amuse you?" Tara asked, amused.
"Yeah," Willow smiled, leaning her head back. "Tell me a story. Please?"
"Hmm, what kind of story?" The blonde asked, her voice teasing, her fingertips still stroking the ends of Willow's hair.
"Something fun," the redhead said, her voice childlike. "Ooo, and with animals."
Tara broke into a wide grin. "Like, with dolphins and half camels?"
"Half camels?" The redhead asked, confused, a smile on her lips.
"Just the front part of a camel," Tara said with a head bob. "Very important to the French Resistance."
"Historically themed," Willow nodded, impressed by the blonde's creativity. "My favorite sort of fun, animal story."
Tara chuckled. "Okay, but, let me go to the bathroom first. Then I'll dazzle."
Willow happily shimmied in her seat. Tara giggled as she struggled to free herself from the couch's embrace. She stood, and took five steps toward the stairs when suddenly the house roared to life. Lights came on, the microwave beeped and the refrigerator started to hum. Both girls froze, blinking in the flood of lights, then turned to face each other. It was like a spell had been broken, and the intimacy created in the darkness quickly retreated. The roommates looked to each other, bashful, each breaking eye contact quickly. "Power's back," the redhead said lamely, as she gingerly stood.
Tara bobbed her head. "Yeah..." She turned and looked down the hall to her studio, suddenly well-lit like a lighthouse's beacon.
Neither spoke for a long moment. "I should, probably get back to work," Willow finally said regretfully.
"Yeah," Tara said softly. "Me too."
After a long awkward moment, Willow took a hesitant step forward. "Raincheck on the story?" Her voice was hopeful. She didn't want this afternoon, their newfound intimacy, to disappear.
The blonde nodded her head with a soft, half smile. "Absolutely."
Willow smiled in reply. They held the gaze for a moment before the redhead dropped her head and purposefully walked back to the secretary table, and her laptop bag resting against it. Tara watched for a moment before ascending the stairs for the bathroom. Minutes later, the blonde exited to the hallway near the redhead's bedroom and heard Willow on the phone with Khalil.
The blonde sighed and headed downstairs to work.
Super Updatey goodness and I thought about hitting a dibs because I would have been the first to reply but I didn't have time, aww maybe next time. Anyway loved the update very intimate even without actual kissage 
but it is really setting up the weekend coming out nicely. Willow can see that Tara feels something for her and hopefully vice versa. I can't wait for the love to spill forward.
Seriously... wow 
hee-hee.
)
