by EasierSaid » Sun Sep 08, 2013 8:22 pm
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: Apologies for the rustiness.
Thoughts in italics
PART 65b
Three years earlier
The lock to Buffy and Tara's apartment was ancient and heavy, and gave a solid, satisfying click as it turned. Tara opened the door, her key ring in her right hand, penguin dangling, and stepped into the darkness, feeling along the wall with her left hand for the light switch. She flipped it and the entryway lit up with a soft, yellow light. She stepped aside and Willow passed by her with a smile which the blonde returned in kind before turning to lock the door. She turned back to face the redhead just as the girl turned on the floor lamp by the couch.
"Thanks," Tara said as she nodded to the lamp, pulling her jacket off her shoulders and hanging it on a hat rack by the door in a series of well-practiced motions.
"No problem," Willow replied, gently resting her own removed jacket on the arm of the olive green couch.
Jackets removed, they stood awkwardly across from each other in the living room. Tara glanced around the silent apartment; Buffy was definitely not home. "Can I get you something to drink?" she offered, unsure of what would come next in the petite blonde's absence.
"No, I'm fine, thanks," the redhead replied sweetly, her hands clasped before her.
"Okay," the blonde said with a soft sigh and nod of her head. After a long pause, she spoke. "Buffy's not home," she said, the words ringing painfully obvious when said aloud.
"Probably at Riley's," Willow answered helpfully with a smile.
"Probably," Tara answered with an embarrassed smile. She was nervous, so nervous, so much more nervous than she thought she'd be given how easy the day up to then had been. "W-Would you like to watch TV, or something? We have movies, too, if you'd rather." The blonde nodded toward the couch and TV behind the redhead.
Willow briefly glanced over her shoulder. "Or, we could look at your project, the drawings you talked about at dinner," she said.
"Oh," Tara said, her brow knitting.
"Unless you don't want to and then TV is fine," the redhead quickly backtracked, a slightly worried look on her face.
"No, that's–" The blonde stopped. "I um." Her brow quirked and she smiled. "I just, I thought you were being polite, earlier, when you said you wanted to see them."
"I was," Willow said with a smile. "And I do, want to see them. If you want to show them to me."
"O-Okay," the blonde replied, slightly overwhelmed by the redhead's persistence. "They're in my room."
"Okay," Willow said.
"Okay," Tara repeated. She smiled, nervously, and then turned to her room. The redhead actually wanted to see them. And she was actually going to show them to her. The pictures she hated, of her, nude. She quickly shuffled down the hallway and entered her dark room. She flipped the switch and both a stained glass lamp and a string of haphazardly hung fairy lights illuminated the space. She crossed to her desk and moved a pile of paper out of the way to get to her drawings.
"I like the lights."
Tara just about jumped out of her skin as she looked up to see Willow standing in the doorway.
"I'm sorry, I startled you," the redhead said contritely, backing a step into the hallway.
"N-No, I just, I wasn't expecting–" The blonde took a quick, steadying breath. "I thought you were waiting in the living room."
"Oh," Willow said, her face flushing. "Because you said they were in your room, so I thought you wanted me to follow– I'll go."
"No," Tara said, stepping once toward the flustered redhead. "You don't have to. I mean, I wasn't, clear, about.... Do you, do you w-want to come in?"
"You're sure?" Willow asked. Tara only nodded. The redhead tentatively entered the room before relaxing, a growing smile on her face. "The lights are really pretty."
"Thanks," Tara said, relaxing at the sight of Willow's bright smile. "I know they're sort of silly..."
"Not silly," Willow said with a shake of her head. "Not at all." She opened her mouth to tell Tara that she, too, had lights in her room in Cambridge, that the blonde had inspired her to string her own set but the words dried up. It seemed too personal. She just smiled instead.
Tara nodded. She smiled bashfully and then turned back to her desk. Her body was on fire and it took every ounce of willpower to keep from turning and staring at the redhead. What was the girl looking at? What was she thinking? This was the first person other than Buffy to come into her room since she stopped sharing a room sophomore year. But no, that wasn't right, was it? Willow had been in her room before. Had slept in her room before, just last year, at Halloween. In her bed. The blonde's face flushed, hot and red.
The blonde lightly shook her head and then moved a set of papers aside, revealing her portfolio. She put a hand on either side and then stopped. She flexed her fingers and considered what she was about to do. What she was about to share, and suddenly the idea of showing the redhead drawings she was dissatisfied with seemed ridiculous. She began to remember exactly what the drawings showed. The one of her wrist that she thought was shaded poorly. The one of the slope of her neck that she thought was too elongated. And the one of the swell of her hip... She blushed. Okay, that one was just a little too, too, she thought with finality. She took a deep breath.
"Do you mind if we don't look at the drawings?" She asked as she looked over her shoulder.
"Oh," Willow said, surprised. "Okay."
Tara let go of the portfolio and turned to fully face the redhead. "I'm sorry, I offered–"
"No, I insisted," Willow corrected with a step forward. "Big difference."
The blonde smiled at the girl trying to make her feel better. "It's just, if I look at them again I'll want to try and fix them–"
"And you're done with them," Willow said understandingly.
"So done," the blonde confirmed with an eye roll and half smile.
"I totally get that," the redhead said, delighting at the emergence of Tara's half smile. She wasn't sure she knew anyone else who did that, or if she did, she surely hadn't noticed anyone other than Tara do it. There was a brief pause. "What would you like to do instead?"
Thoughts of pinning the redhead to the wall and kissing her senseless came to mind. "Um," the blonde blushed. "We could listen to some music, hang out?"
"That sounds nice," Willow smiled brightly.
There was a long pause, and Tara blinked owlishly as the redhead waited expectantly. She wants to hang out in here... the blonde realized, blinking owlishly again. O-Of course. "I-Is the radio okay?" she asked, moving to her stereo atop her dresser.
"Sure," Willow replied, moving to stand next to the bed.
Tara's face burned. They were going to hang out in her room, listening to music. Her heart was racing. Where were they going to sit? She only had her bed and the one chair. "I mean, I have CDs, but, you know..."
"Totally," Willow said. "I mean, you sort of have to be in the mood for a whole CD sometimes..."
"Right," Tara said. Her stomach was fluttering. She turned and watched as the redhead sat on the edge of her bed, tucking her leg underneath her. Willow was on her bed. She was on her bed and she was about to put music on.
"I barely listen to the radio anymore," Willow said. "Sometimes the campus radio, but usually I stick with MP3s."
"Those are on the computer, right?" Tara's brow furrowed. Should she sit in the chair? Or would that be weird...
Willow smiled. Buffy said Tara wasn't that computer savvy. "Or a digital audio player."
"R-Right," the blonde answered distractedly. She should sit on the bed. Anything else would be weird, especially after the tulip garden. They had laid shoulder-to-shoulder on the grass, held hands... "Buffy has one, for working out."
Willow smiled. She had given the music player to the petite blonde for her birthday last year.
"Would um, would incense bother you?" Tara asked. Now that she had decided on sitting on the bed, she was self-conscious about the way she must smell after their long walk. Incense would be nice. Pleasant.
"Nope," Willow answered relaxing into her seat on the edge of the bed. She watched as the blonde smiled and then went about lighting the stick and placing it on the tray near the window. The blonde then opened the window slightly, the not-yet-chilly air lightly blowing at the sheer curtains.
"I hope it's not too cold," the blonde said gesturing to the window. "Just, if I don't crack it the incense can get a little–"
"Intense," Willow replied with a smile. Tara's stomach flipped, the effect of the grinning girl on her bed making her momentarily dizzy.
"R-Right," Tara said. She moved back to the bed and sat down. She stole a glance at the redhead. They were about as far apart as they could get without falling off the sides. "Are you sure I can't get you anything, to drink, or–"
"Nope, all fine here," Willow reassured with an easy smile. "So what are we listening to?"
"The, aforementioned campus radio," Tara said, attempting to relax. "I used to listen to Live 105, but then they started playing Creed all the time and–"
"Say no more," Willow said and both girls smiled. The redhead looked around the room, and Tara tried not to stare. "So," Willow said, her face open and excited.
"So," Tara replied with a slight head bob. They both laughed nervously.
"Do you mind if I take off my shoes?" Willow asked.
"Of course not," Tara said, wondering why she hadn't thought of it first. "That actually sounds like a good idea." The girls shared a smile and then took off their shoes.
"Oh, that feels good," the redhead said as she removed her shoes and flexed her sock-covered toes.
"Sore?" Tara asked, putting her shoes off to the side and then righting herself.
"Maybe a little," Willow admitted.
"Are you okay?" The blonde asked, her brow quirked with concern.
"Oh, yeah," Willow said with a smile. "Nothing a little, loafing can't cure." Tara smiled. "Today was just more walking than my, sedentary, computer-using self is used to."
"So, even with the comfy shoes..." the blonde lightly teased.
"Their comfiness may have been overestimated," the redhead said with a bright smile that reassured the blonde that she was mostly tired. After a long moment, Willow spoke. "I like your crystals," she said, nodding to three different sized crystals on the blonde's dresser.
"Thanks, they're um, they're actually salt candle holders."
"Really?" Willow asked, intrigued. "Can we light one?"
"We can light all of them, if you want," Tara replied, mock conspiratorially.
"Yes please," the redhead said, shimmying slightly in her seat. Tara giggled and then got up off the bed; she made her way to the candles and lit them with a single match. "Ooo, glowy," Willow observed.
"I really need to trim the tall one's wick," Tara said, making her way back to the bed. "Long wicks make for smokey candles."
Silence settled between them. Willow had a million questions in her head. She wanted to ask whether Tara had painted the painting of birch trees over her dresser, where she had gotten the lace cover for her bed, who the people were in the pictures pinned to the chalkboard black walls, how she had decided on fairy lights and a stained glass lamp for lighting. She wanted to ask her her favorite color, her favorite flower, and even if she was interested in anyone at the moment. But as each question sparked in her mind she became more and more nervous about actually asking them. They had shared so much all day, and she worried about overstepping her bounds. How much was too much before she became that creepy friend of Buffy's who asked too many personal questions? She smiled at the blonde and decided to start with something safe. "So what was your favorite class this semester," Willow asked. "I mean, I know it wasn't Anatomy..."
Tara grinned. "I only took two; the seminar took up a big chunk of time."
"Tell me about it," the redhead said, planting her right palm flat on the bed and leaning some of her weight on her outstretched arm.
"The seminar?" The blonde asked, watching with wonder as the girl across from her got more comfortable. Willow nodded and Tara's lips slightly pursed as she considered how to explain it. "It was sort of a residency. I had a studio, was allowed to create whatever I wanted, my own schedules, my own pace. And then I had to put on a show."
"Like, at a gallery?" The redhead clarified.
Tara nodded. "Do the networking, the marketing, learn a little about the accounting."
"Wow," Willow said. "Sounds–"
"Boring," the blonde interrupted, briefly ducking her head to hide an apologetic smile.
The redhead shook her head. "Like a lot of hard work."
Tara nodded, her smile curling and turning appreciative. "It was practice for when I'm out of school. My advisor said too many people graduate without an idea of what their lives would actually be like, as full-time, working artists. The seminar was sort of a, dry run for after graduation."
"Do you feel like you know more?" Willow asked. "I mean, about what it'll be like."
The blonde nodded. "I do. I think," she amended good-naturedly.
"Was this show the one where the professor wanted a painting for that exchange?"
Tara blushed, again impressed with how much Willow knew of her life. She nodded. "M-My advisor, he's moving to Syracuse over the summer and he's taking one from the show for a small gallery in their art department. The painting it will displace is going to be shown here, in our art department."
"That's so cool," the redhead said, an admiring smile softening her features.
The blonde nodded modestly. "It was really generous of him to offer."
"So how does something like a residency get graded," Willow asked, cocking her head to the side slightly.
Tara smiled. It seemed like a very Willow concern. "There's not really a grade, per se. I mean, I suppose if you blew it off you'd fail, but it was more, for the experience."
"So like an internship," the redhead again clarified.
"I guess so," Tara said, nodding her head.
"So has that been your favorite class?"
"This semester?" Tara asked for clarity.
"In college," Willow specified, turning a little to face the blonde more fully and getting more comfortable on the bed.
"Um," Tara said, crinkling her brow as she reviewed the last four years. "I really liked my Advanced Composition class," she said, remembering how she had been inspired by the little jewelry shop in Sunnydale. "It was self-guided—I did a project using found glass from the beach. It was really fun, taking trash and making it beautiful. And I got to spend a lot of time walking along the beach." She paused, her brow knitting. "People litter, a lot."
"Sounds nice. Except, you know, the littering part." the redhead said.
"How about you?"
"This semester, or...?"
"In college," Tara amended.
"That's easy. It was my ma–" The words died in Willow's mouth. She was about to say her undergrad research opportunity; she had worked on mammography advances, an intensive course that had consumed the previous five months of her life. "Uh, my, um." The redhead took a quick breath. She couldn't, not with the story the blonde had told her today about her mother. The memory of Tara's tear-stained face, framed in the warm afternoon sun was seared into her mind. "My robotics seminar this past fall semester was really fun." Tara smiled sweetly, and Willow felt relieved. The blonde should always be happy.
"Robots, huh?" Tara said with a sweet, flirty smile. The thought of the redhead tinkering with robots brought an adorable image to her mind.
Willow nodded. The smile on the blonde's face was worth fibbing. "There's a lab on campus that's working on a social robot," she expanded. "One that interacts using facial expressions and stuff. We helped them with some experiments."
"What kind of experiments?" The blonde asked, scooting further onto the bed and sitting cross-legged.
"Well the robot didn't know us, so a lot of it was how it responded to new facial expressions it wasn't familiar with, and us giving feedback on how the robot made us feel," Willow explained. "It was a little weird. It had ears and eyes and lips... but on a kind of, erector-set metal framework face."
"Sounds like concept art," Tara said. She envied the robot, who was able to stare at Willow's expressive face and analyze it, enjoy it.
The redhead smiled. She loved how the blonde looked at the world. "Yeah."
"Did the robot have a name?"
"Kismet," Willow said. "Kind of a cheesy name."
Tara smiled. The redhead was adorable. "I like it."
They fell into a brief silence. "You know, I think this DJ just went through a bad breakup," Willow said with a giggle, nodding toward the stereo as she laid down on her side. Tara's brow quirked and the redhead expanded. "That's the third Smiths song in a row."
The blonde smiled. Observant.
"What was your favorite band when you were younger?" Willow asked.
The blonde blew out a short puff of air as she tried to remember. "I really liked Fleetwood Mac when I was little. It seems like it was always playing, when making dinner, going for drives. Their songs always made me feel safe, and happy."
"Who else?" Willow asked, enjoying watching the blonde. "Like, when you were old enough to pick what you wanted to hear."
"Hmm... The Go-Gos." Tara said with a head nod.
"The Go-Gos?" Willow repeated, her voice disbelieving.
"I know Belinda Carlisle sings like a goat, but I've always liked how, catchy, their songs are." She looked over to Willow, looking at her. "Is that bad?"
"No, that's, cool. They're, cool," the redhead said, amazed, before muttering, "A lot better than the Spice Girls..."
"You're favorite band was the Spice Girls?" Tara asked, amused. She tried to picture the young redhead listening to the sugary pop.
Willow blushed furiously as she returned to a sitting position. "That was more of a, hypo, thetical, example..." She sighed and after a slight pause, said, "I was the sixth Spice Girl." Tara laughed, and Willow smiled slightly at the happy sound.
"W-What was your name?"
"Willow," she replied smartly, and Tara rolled her eyes. "I was Brainy Spice." The blonde's eyebrows shot up, a lopsided smile on her face. "Well, Ginger Spice was already taken..." Willow somewhat whined.
Tara's laughs died down. "I think I'd have been S-Stutter Spice." She rolled her eyes as she stammered.
"No," Willow defended. After the briefest of moments she said, "You'd be Artsy Spice. Oh!" She shimmied happily. "You could design the album covers!"
"Could, as in, the future?" The blonde asked, dubiously.
"A reunion tour plus two, fantastic, new members is not entirely implausible."
Tara lightly laughed. "Implausible, until you factor in me and dancing. Then, definitely impossible."
"Two left feet?" Willow said, leaning back onto her elbow. She tried to imagine the girl across from her dancing and the image made her smile.
The blonde nodded. "That make me r-run into things when I try and dance."
"What kind of things?" The redhead asked, her fingertips lightly picking at the lace bedcover.
"Other people, chairs, poles..."
"Poles?" Willow said, eyebrows arching. "Cause that sounds..." Tara looked confused. "Kinda strippery."
"Oh," the blonde blushed. "Definitely n-not strippery." She looked over and saw the devilish smile on the redhead's lips. "I ran into one, once, at the Bronze last year."
"Oh, I know those poles," the redhead said. The blonde must have gone to the Bronze when visiting Sunnydale the previous summer. Willow had tried to find time in her schedule to fly home, hoping to overlap their visits but it hadn't worked out. "The ones by the platform."
Tara nodded.
"I think they're technically called pillars," Willow said.
"And, definitely less strippery when you say pillars," Tara admitted quietly.
"Did you like the Bronze?" The redhead asked.
"Yeah," the blonde said with a slight head nod. "I mean, I don't know if I would have gone without Buffy—dancing isn't really my thing—but it was fun."
"I practically lived there when I was in high school," Willow said. "And dancing is, so, not my thing either," the redhead assured the blonde. "I just liked all the people and the music."
Tara nodded. She knew, from Buffy, about their numerous exploits at the club. And that Oz's band, The Dingoes, had played there frequently. "Yeah, it's cool that they had live music," she said softly.
"Did you try any of their food?" Willow asked, oblivious to the change in Tara's tone.
"No," the blonde said. Thinking about Oz made her feel like she had a rock in her stomach.
"Good," the redhead continued breezily. "Cause they close the whole place down for fumigation at least once a year and Xander's pretty sure they don't even go through with it."
"I'll keep that in mind if I ever go back," Tara said, the feeling in her stomach fading as the conversation progressed.
"Did you like Sunnydale?"
"I did. I do," Tara said. "How about you?"
"Well, I grew up there," Willow said with a smile.
"And...?" The blonde led.
The redhead shrugged. "It has it's positives. I used to think it had so much but now it just feels really, really small."
"You're a city girl now," Tara said with a half smile and knowing head nod.
"I know it's going to sound snobby," Willow confided, "but the whole, regional airport thing..."
The blonde chuckled. "You know, I almost went to UC Sunnydale."
"You did?" Willow said, interested as she propped herself up on her hand.
Tara nodded. "It was between here, and there."
"I almost went to UC Sunnydale," Willow said, the excitement in her voice palpable as she sat up more fully. Tara looked at her skeptically. "I did."
"Over MIT," the blonde said, dubious.
"Buffy thought she was going to stay close to home and the idea sort of, rattled around in my brain for a bit. Living in the dorms with Buffy as my roomie, seeing Xander whenever..." The redhead smiled brightly. "If you went to UCS we could have all been at the same school."
Tara smiled. She would have died if they had gone to the same school. If she felt this strongly about the redhead in one day's time... She couldn't imagine how long it would have taken for her to explode in frustration being around the redhead more. Maybe a semester?
"Ooh, we could have taken classes together," Willow said, excitedly.
Definitely less than a semester. Tara smiled at the girl's delighted smile. "In what world would we have overlapping classes?"
"Oh, yeah," the redhead said. "Well, electives. We could have taken an elective together like, drama or something."
"Oh no, n-no drama for me," the blonde said.
"Oh, or," Willow said, her hands flapping in front of her. "My friend Amy took a wine-tasting course this year, we could have done something like that."
"Wine-tasting for credit," Tara said, inadvertently blushing at the thought of how much harder her crush would be to conceal if she was continually tipsy around the redhead.
"I'm sure there are tests on wine-making and stuff, but still, common ground for the artist and the engineer."
Tara smiled. It was the first time she'd heard Willow refer to herself by future profession. "So you're an engineer."
"Technically," Willow conceded, blushing and picking at the seam of her pants. "I mean, I will be, if I ever graduate and if I don't run away with the circus or something."
"I like it," the blonde said. "The engineer part, that is."
"I feel dorky when I say computer programmer," the redhead confided. "Well, I feel dorky when I say computer engineer too, but... less dorky." She smiled. "I mean, it's no building bridges, but–"
"I get it, you don't have to explain."
Willow smiled. Of course she didn't. That seemed to be the way with Tara. She was overwhelmed with happiness. "If you could have any super power, what would it be?" She asked.
Tara laughed. It wasn't the words, or even the question itself that made her laugh, though the question was supremely silly, but the way the redhead said it. Completely devoid of hesitation or tentativeness and with an obvious joy that Tara found remarkable. She was so enraptured she almost forgot to answer. "Umm..." She stalled as she thought. "I'd be two inches taller.
The redhead frowned. "Um, I hate to break it to you, but that's not a super power."
"Oh, but it is," the blonde said wisely. "It's the power to see in crowds."
Willow looked at the girl politely. "This is not a reflection on how short you may, or may not be, because we're pretty much the same height, but I've worn three inch heels and you can't really see all that much more."
"Ah, but two inches taller in three inch heels," the blonde nodded her head sagely, eyebrow arched and a smile on her lips.
"But if seeing in crowds is your goal, why not just be six feet tall?" Willow asked. "Then three inch heels would really make a difference."
"But then I'd be the one blocking other people's view," Tara said.
"Ah," Willow said.
"So when did you have to wear three inch heels?" The blonde asked, amused.
"You know, prom, award banquets," the redhead said nonchalantly.
"You've been to multiple award banquets?" The blonde asked, choosing to avoid another awkward mention of Oz. She knew they had gone to prom together; Buffy had their picture on her bedside table freshman year. "How many awards have you won?"
"Only a couple," Willow said modestly. "I'm usually in the, 'it's a pleasure to be nominated' category."
Tara smiled brightly. "I can't really picture you in heels."
"I clean up nice," Willow said with a flirty smile.
"I believe you," Tara whispered, leaning in for effect. Willow smiled brightly.
"How about you?" the redhead asked.
"Um, dressy on me looks a lot like this, only, more jewelry."
"No heels?"
"I don't think I've ever worn heels," Tara said, racking her brains.
"Not even to prom?" Willow asked.
Tara smiled bashfully. "I um, I didn't go to prom," the blonde said.
"Oh," the redhead replied. It didn't seem possible that the girl wasn't invited. Who in their right mind would invite anyone else?
"I grew up in a small town," Tara explained, conscious of the redhead's silence. "There weren't a lot of prom dates floating around, for me..." She blushed self-consciously.
Willow's brow quirked. Hadn't the blonde been dating that girl Jill her senior year of high school? "Oh, well, you didn't miss anything," she glossed over with a smile. "At our prom you would have missed a prank involving loose dogs and spiked punch, but other than that, bad music and a lot of drunken PDA."
"Good to know," Tara replied. There was a moment of silence. "What would yours be? Your superpower," the blonde asked, circling around to their original conversation.
Willow smiled brightly. "I'd want to be fluent in any language."
Tara lit up. Of course she would. "That would be a pretty handy superpower," she admitted through a half smile.
"I know!" Willow exclaimed happily. "Flying, schmying, what good is that gonna do ya when you get to where you flew and you can't even say hello."
The blonde smiled. "Or bonjour."
Willow beamed. The blonde got it.
"Or hola," Tara continued, a neutral look on her face. "Konnichiwa. Guten tag."
"Stop." Willow said, the blonde's face breaking into a teasing half smile. The redhead leaned forward and lightly swatted the blonde's knee; an action she quickly apologized for. "Sorry," she said, lightly caressing the spot where she had hit the blonde before bringing her hand back to her lap.
The action startled Tara. "It's okay," she said, blushing brightly as she dipped her head, her hair momentarily obscuring her face as her skin burned where Willow had caressed her. "I um, I deserved it," she said, forcing her voice to stay neutral as she looked up with a slight smile.
The redhead just smiled in reply, a twinkle in her eye.
The blonde nodded slightly, lightly clearing her throat. She looked to the redhead and then back down to her lap, her brow knitting and then releasing so quickly she was sure the other girl didn't notice. It felt like.... The blonde sighed. Was Willow flirting with her? But, no, she's straight, and there's Oz. Her brow knit and released again as she tried to process the thought.
"So who's your favorite artist?" Willow asked, eager to touch on a subject that would light the blonde up. There was something infectious about her when she talked about art. The redhead might not have a clue about what she's talking about, but it didn't really matter.
"I don't know if I have a favorite," Tara said, her scattered mind trying to focus on the redhead's question, her heart racing in her chest. She looked up at Willow's inquisitive face and pushed the confusing thoughts aside. "I really like Gerhard Richter." She paused, further collecting herself. "His abstracts are beautiful, but he has this one called 'Betty' that's photo-realistic; it looks just like a photograph, it's, stunning." She pushed her lips together and Willow smiled as the dimple appeared on Tara's cheek. "I like Joan Mitchell; she also did abstracts. Lucien Freud... Wols, Magritte, Dorothea Tanning..." She looked up at Willow. "I'm sorry, you have, no, idea what I'm talking about..."
"Magritte," the redhead said, a note of hopeful recognition in her voice. "He's the apple face guy."
Tara smiled brightly. "Yes." Willow was adorable.
"Oh no," the redhead groaned, nodding to the stereo again, a wry smile on her lips. "The Smiths are back."
The blonde chuckled. "I think your break up theory is starting to look pretty good."
The redhead nodded, and a long, comfortable moment of silence settled between them. "So, do you think you and Buffy are going to keep living together after school?" Willow asked, her finger unconsciously tracing the pattern of Tara's lace bedspread next to her leg.
"I don't know," Tara answered, her brown knitting. "We haven't talked about it. I don't even know if she's planning on staying in San Francisco."
"Oh," the redhead said. She wondered if Buffy and Tara didn't live together, if she'd still see the blonde on future trips west. She hoped so.
"I mean, I guess it depends on whether the whole, painting thing goes well; I might need a roommate," Tara offered with a self-deprecating smile.
Willow nodded. "I think you'll have your choice. Might be nice, though, to have your own place..." she led.
The blonde nodded. "Maybe," she conceded. "I haven't really thought about it." She smiled. "That all seems really far away."
They fell back into silence, listening to the radio and enjoying the cool air seeping into the room beneath the sheer curtains. The redhead suddenly smiled. "I haven't heard this song since high school."
Tara smiled softly at the bright look on Willow's face. The girl was lovely. "Who is it?"
"This ridiculous band that played at The Bronze once, I forget their name. I remember the song because it was during my wallflower phase and I was too afraid to move from where I was standing, only, it was right underneath the AC vent. I spent the whole night shivering. And not the good kind, like when someone writes a long letter on your back."
'Good shivers... The blonde felt her face heat up. "Writes on your back...?" She asked, clearing her throat, a quirk in her brow.
"You know, with your finger," Willow explained. She traced her pointer finger in the air and the blonde just shook her head, not following. "You've never had someone write on your back? Not even your mo–" Willow quickly closed her mouth. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Tara said with a kind smile. "I don't mind talking about my mom."
"Are you sure?" The redhead asked tentatively.
The blonde nodded. "I know I got w-weepy earlier, but, isolated incident."
"You're sure?" Willow asked again, the memory of Tara's tear-choked voice from the afternoon still fresh in her mind.
"Yes." The blonde's voice went soft. "It makes it feel like she's still around, you know?"
Willow nodded gently. "Okay, on your tummy," the redhead instructed as she shifted closer to the blonde.
"W-What?" Tara asked, surprised as the redhead moved closer to her.
"On your tummy," Willow repeated. "I'm going to write a letter."
"O-Okay," Tara replied, shaky. She moved more fully onto the bed and laid on her stomach, tugging at the hem of her shirt as she did, so as not to expose her skin.
Willow scooted to Tara's side. She reached out and started to draw between the prone girl's shoulder blades, her index finger lightly pressing into the material of the blonde's t-shirt. "Dear..." She stopped suddenly. "Who do you want me to write a letter to?"
"Um, J. Lo." W-What? Tara thought, wondering what random recess of her mind that had come from before remembering the faint pop song playing on the cabbie's radio as they sped down Geary on their way home from dinner.
"Interesting choice," Willow said, shifting her weight to get more comfortable. "Okay. Dear Ms. Lo." Tara chuckled as the redhead began her letter. "Recently it has come to my attention that you are real." Willow traced her finger in big looping letters along the girls back, more swirls than actual writing, and Tara shivered under the faint touch. The redhead smiled. "I hear you on the radio," she continued, her finger bumping into the clasp of Tara's bra. "I see you on the television saying you're real." The blonde shivered again. "Could you please provide some references? Anecdotes? Additionally, I wanted to say that I am in no way fooled by the rocks that you got. Sincerely, Willow." She signed off with a flourish. "Hey, J. Lo, Willow. We rhyme."
Tara rolled over to face the redhead and Willow's outstretched hand briefly ran across the girl's stomach. The look in the blonde's blue eyes was intense, and as they stared for a moment, the redhead felt a flutter in her tummy. "Well, that was fun," she said as she sat back, a polite smile forced nervously onto her lips, her brow quickly knitting and releasing. What in the frilly heck was that? Willow thought, slightly unsettled by the tingling sensation on her skin. Maybe I got shocked? She reasoned, rubbing her palms across the thighs of her pants as she scooched back got more comfortable.
Tara scooted to the side, her head bowed, her face flush. Willow was flirting with her. The looks she was giving her, the touches. She didn't know any straight girls like this. But to what end? The blonde hazarded a quick glance at the redhead, who was looking to the flickering light from the salt candles on the dresser. Even if Willow was, interested, she wouldn't cheat on Oz. Right? Tara thought weakly. But there had been a fluke in high school, with Xander. No, the blonde thought, Buffy had been clear when explaining the situation that Willow's cheating had changed her, hurt her and made her contrite in a way that would make any future cheating pretty much impossible.The blonde looked again to the redhead, who was now inspecting the lace of her bedcover. But she was flirting, right?
The two girls nervously smiled at each other, the moments of silence growing awkward. Willow took a quick breath. "If you could eat one kind of food for the rest of your life, what would it be?" She blurted out, twisting her fingers as she waited for a reply. She didn't know why things suddenly felt off, but she was eager to move beyond it, to return to the easy banter of earlier.
The blonde just shook her head. Willow was nothing if not unpredictable. "Um, Mexican?" Tara answered, thrown by the question and the overwhelming feelings battling inside her brain and heart.
The redhead sighed in relief. "Me too," she said with a bright smile, and Tara couldn't help but smile back.
Their conversation returned to safe topics, questions about favorite colors and favorite movies. They eventually laid side by side on the bed, rarely touching but never truly apart. Willow laughed, and Tara beamed, and both were slightly dazed by the perfection of it all.
After a couple of hours, the redhead yawned. "I really should go to bed but I don't want to leave," Willow said, her voice drowsy, her body melting into Tara's bed.
"I know what you mean," the blonde said, her voice and body equally sluggish. There was a long pause. "You could um, you c-could sleep in here," she hesitantly offered, her gaze carefully angled at the ceiling.
"Ooo, like a slumber party," Willow said as she propped herself up on an elbow facing the blonde. Tara smiled. "Do you have a sleeping bag?"
"Oh," the blonde said, her brow knitting as she turned her head to face the redhead. "I do. But you could, w-we could, share, the bed. U-Unless that would make you uncomfortable."
"Why would that make me uncomfortable?" Willow asked innocently.
"N-No r-reason," Tara said as she turned her gaze back to the ceiling, a blush on her face.
"I'd totally take you up on the offer, but it's been told to me—as recently as this morning, in fact—that I sort of, flail around at night and I would hate to break your nose or something while you slept." She reached out and gently poked Tara's nose.
The blonde blushed profusely and turned her head to look at the redhead. "I um, I'm sure it's n-not that bad."
"Buffy said she was going to swaddle me next time we share a bed," Willow said, delighting in the color on Tara's cheeks.
Tara nodded. "The sleeping bag is in the closet, hold on." She climbed off the bed and made her way to the closet, pulling the rolled up gray bag down from a high shelf with a tug, her shirt creeping up slightly as she did so.
Willow rolled over to her other side and watched the blonde's actions, not realizing that she was staring as Tara's shirt rode up and exposed a strip of creamy skin.
"I um, I don't have a pad," Tara said apologetically as she turned to face the redhead, sleeping bag in hand.
"That's okay," Willow said with a smile, snapping her eyes up to meet the blonde's. "I should, go get in my jammies."
"Okay," the blonde said, putting the sleeping bag down next to her bed.
"See you in a minute?" The redhead asked, her tongue poking out to her teeth in excitement.
"Sure," Tara said. The redhead stood, grabbed her shoes and left. The blonde immediately put her hand over her stomach. Willow was going to sleep a little less than three feet away from her. She unrolled the sleeping bag and then moved like a zombie to her dresser. She opened a drawer and looked down to her night clothes. What do you wear when the girl of your dreams is going to be sleeping next to you for the first time?
Willow changed quickly into a gray shirt with the number four on the front and baggy flannel pajama bottoms, and then slipped into the bathroom. She used the bathroom and then pulled her toothbrush from her travel bag and began to clean her teeth, absently leaning against the sink as she did so. She smiled, her lips foamy from her toothpaste. She was unbelievably happy about how the day had turned out. Buffy was almost assuredly sleeping over at Riley's at this point, and yet it didn't bother her at all. All because of Tara. She was amazing. The redhead turned and spit into the sink and then rinsed her mouth out with water. They would have been friends if they had met before Buffy and her met, she was sure of it. She wiped her mouth and then practically skipped back to the blonde's room.
She reentered Tara's bedroom with a slight wave, noticing the stereo had been turned off in her absence. Tara had changed into baggy boxer shorts and a thin heather blue v-neck shirt that had a small yellow bird situated over her right breast. "Birdy," Willow said, gesturing with clasped hands at the girl's chest.
"Oh, yeah," Tara said, quickly looking down at her chest. She was suddenly very self-conscious about removing her bra. And very aware of her bare legs. Were these boxers always this short?
"I like it," the redhead said, making eye-contact and smiling.
"Thanks," the blonde said with a slight smile and head nod.
"Mind if I...?" Willow asked as she again gestured with clasped hands, this time to the sleeping bag.
"N-No, please. I just, have to brush my teeth," the blonde said, pointing to the door and bathroom beyond.
"Take your time," Willow said happily as she pulled back the flap of the bag and sitting down, snuggled herself into the downy confines. She laid on her back, her head sinking into the pillow Tara had provided. It smelled like Tara. In retrospect Willow realized she should have brought one in from Buffy's room, but if Tara didn't mind her using hers it wasn't worth getting up again. She allowed her gaze to wander as she waited for the blonde's return, again appreciating the string of fairy lights and their soft glow. The black walls created shadows and halos, and the girl appreciated how different it was from her own string of lights in Cambridge. She smiled as Tara returned to the room. "Hey."
"Hey," the blonde said with a smile and slight wave. She disappeared from view.
After a brief moment, Willow heard a soft sound and smelled smoke. She blew out the salt candles. There was a noise—the window shutting—and then Tara reemerged, heading to the wall next to the door and the light switch.
"Is it okay if I turn out the lights?" She asked softly.
"Of course," Willow replied. The blonde smiled and then with a flip of the switch, disappeared into darkness. The redhead blinked as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and she heard rustling as Tara climbed onto her bed. Willow turned her head and watched as the blonde's silhouette situated herself close to where she would be sleeping on the floor. Once both girls were settled, the apartment fell silent.
"Tara?" Willow whispered into the darkness.
"Yeah," the blonde replied, quietly her head rustling on the pillow as she turned to face the redhead in the dark.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome," Tara replied with a light chuckle. "What are you thanking me for?"
"Today," the redhead said simply. "This. I had fun."
The blonde beamed in the dark. "I'm glad."
Willow thought of all of the other things that she knew wanted to say. She fought for a second wind, urged her body to find some reservoir of energy that would lead to hours of continued conversation, but her tired mind protested, coming up blank as she searched for words. After a long moment of silence, she spoke. "Well, goodnight."
"Goodnight," Tara answered softly.
They smiled at each other in the dark and then became quiet. Willow retreated into her own head, smiling to herself in the night as she remembered their shared day. She slipped off to sleep with a smile on her lips, perfectly content after only a few minutes of stillness.
Tara lay awake a while longer, unable to fully relax as the girl she now knew she loved slipped off to sleep mere feet away. The blonde's brow knit in the darkness, her mind spinning, her heart thumping. There were at least a dozen times today that she could have kissed the redhead, a dozen times when she wanted to, to press her lips against the redhead's, and one time, just after the redhead drew on her back, when she thought that if she did, the redhead might kiss her back.
The blonde closed her eyes and sighed. The look on the redhead's face as her hand ran across her stomach, the quirk in her brow... It was unlike anything she had experienced with anyone before. Certainly none of her other straight girl friends had ever touched her like that. It was... Confusing, the blonde internally groaned. And Oz... Her brow furrowed again. It seemed like Willow had been avoiding talking about him all day. And when she did talk about the man... Who doesn't talk to their boyfriend about when he'd be graduating? She lightly shook her head. Maybe things were bad between them. Maybe... She sighed. Maybe I'm trying to talk myself into something that can't happen.
She turned toward Willow. She could barely see the redhead's serene face in the faint blue glow from the digital clock next to her bed. She thought about how the girl's hand had felt in hers, how her arms had felt wrapped around her body and the girl's bright, kind eyes. Tara turned her gaze back to the ceiling, exhaling deeply. Willow was in town for two more days. Two more days to torture herself, hanging around with an unrequited love... Or. Or... the blonde thought, exhaling a shaky breath. Or. She closed her eyes and willed her mind to quiet, and after what felt like the longest twenty minutes of her life, slipped off into her own quiet slumber.
Last edited by
EasierSaid on Wed Oct 16, 2013 8:27 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Pretty Please? 
Hope life is treating you well 
worthy hee!). But seriously, your story is amazing and you have inspired me! Not enough to actually do anything, but hey, you're still my Yoda. 
. Hopefully dreams of 
hee!
I hear you about not wanting Willow to be the bad guy. Hopefully where it goes - and how it gets weird for them - will make sense. Thanks so much friend, and yes, half-chapter, haha. Hopefully the length of the next one will make up for the long hiatus. 
We'll see! Thanks so much, so hope you enjoy the next update. 
