Title: Answering Darkness Part 43 - Faith
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to
pink_overalls@yahoo.comSummary: Despite the title, our favorite Dark Slayer does NOT make an appearance. The long-awaited "why is everyone blushing" spell. However, that's just the last four pages. The rest of it is … cute
Spoiler Warning: Up to and including "Tabula Rasa" in Season 6.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm just borrowing them.
Rating: NC-17
Notes: For the purpose of this story, all events of Tabula Rasa took place exactly as shown in the series; however, no subsequent episodes will affect this piece. We're splitting from canon here, because I impatiently began writing this before 'Smashed' and 'Wrecked' aired.
Answering Darkness Part 43
Faith
By Sassette
"So, big date tonight, huh?" Dawn asked with a sly smile, glancing over at Willow.
Willow shifted in her chair at the research table in The Magic Box, feeling both a thrill of excitement and the chill of nervousness teasing her spine.
"Well, we're sort of, ummm..." Willow hedged, looking over at the near-giddy teenager.
"Oh, come on," Dawn said exasperatedly. "Giles has us all staying at Xander and Anya's," she went on. "I'm young, not stupid."
"Just because they're going to be alone doesn't mean they're going to do anything naughty," Buffy objected, supporting her friend and automatically moving to derail Dawn from any discussion of sex. Being the adult one was difficult, sometimes. "But what intrigues me is that Tara kicked us all out of the house," Buffy went on with a frown, pinning Willow with her eyes as she speculated inwardly. "She's definitely got something planned, but she wouldn't tell us what."
"Yeah, I know," Willow complained. "I mean, I like surprises - surprises are great - but I like knowing about them first," she said absurdly.
"That kind of defeats the whole 'surprise' aspect of the surprise," Dawn pointed out reasonably.
"Still," Willow protested indignantly, then trailed off, realizing she couldn't really argue with that particular piece of logic. "It's just dinner, though," Willow went on. "I mean, she invited me to dinner, then kicked me out ... I'm guessing she's making dinner."
"Very logical," Buffy said with a nod. "But you'll have to tell us all about it tomorrow. Unless it really is something naughty. You can skip those details."
"Or you can share them," Xander piped in with an easy smile. "I'm your friend, and I'm here for you. I'm perfectly willing to lend my ear to a verbal replay of any naughtiness that goes on tonight. In detail, if need be."
"As if," Willow rejoined with a snort.
"Well, someone has to make these kinds of sacrifices," Xander pointed out reasonably. "And I >am< the only one here who understands the whole 'girl attraction' thing."
"No, you're the one with an eerie fascination for the 'girl/girl attraction' thing," Dawn said with a smirk.
"Oooh, ouch!" Xander said, clutching his chest dramatically. "Score one for the Dawnster. Congratulations on joining the ranks of full-womanhood, and enjoy your newfound power to wound the hearts of men with just a few simple words."
"Stop complaining," Anya insisted, walking over to the group and standing behind Xander's chair now that she had successfully gained a customer's money and relieved herself of some unwanted inventory. "You're lucky Willow didn't smack you."
"That's why I'm sitting on the other side of the table," he said, looking up at Anya and grinning at her.
"Would you like me to smack him, since I'm within easy reach?" Anya asked Willow earnestly. Anya had learned a lot about female solidarity on her trip with Tara.
"That's okay, Anya," Willow said with a little smile. "No smacking necessary. But I'll take you up on that if he ever gets out of line."
"So, umm, Wills?" Buffy asked, looking up at a clock on the wall. "It's about time for you to be heading off to your date, isn't it?"
"What?" Willow asked, looking around. "Already?"
"You don't sound happy about this," Xander said with a frown. "Pretty girl, love of your life, alone-time and dinner ... why don't you sound happy?"
"I am happy," Willow insisted. "Ecstatic. Over the moon. And what do people mean by that, anyway? I mean, over the moon? What does that have to do with anything? Does that mean that you're really depressed when you're under the moon? Or, maybe - maybe that's where the term down in the dumps came from, because dumps would be under the moon, and y'know, down. Under. Same concept."
"Okay, breathe, Willow," Buffy said simply, laying a hand on her shoulder and giving her a little shake. "Nervous?" she asked kindly, a sympathetic smile on her face.
"Umm ... terrified," Willow confessed.
"Why? It's just Tara," Dawn wondered aloud, honestly curious as to what was wigging Willow so badly.
"Just Tara?" Willow said. "No, no ... there is no 'Just Tara' ... there's 'Wonderful Tara' and 'Beautiful Tara' and 'Oh My God, She Thinks I'm A Babbling Idiot, Why Won't The Earth Open Up And Swallow Me Whole Right Now? Tara' ... but there's no 'Just Tara'."
"Got it," Buffy said. "But don't forget 'Loves You With All She's Got Tara'."
"Right," Anya said with a nod. "And remember, if you get nervous, just picture her in her underwear."
Willow immediately began blushing, visions of a scantily clad Tara dancing through her brain as everyone just looked at Anya.
"What?" Anya asked defensively, looking back at the rest of the Scoobies. "Isn't that what you're supposed to do? I think I saw a special on public speaking, and how picturing people in their underwear is supposed to make you less nervous."
"Umm, thanks," Willow squeaked, coughing lightly. "I think I'll just, umm ... I'll, uh, go. Now."
"Giles!" Anya yelled, calling for the Englishman who was in the back checking on the inventory. What with him being here and all, Anya had insisted he do some work.
"Yes?" he asked, coming out of the back room.
"Willow's ready to go now," Anya said, pointing at the redhead as if she weren't present.
"I can walk. It's not far," Willow protested.
"Absolutely not," Giles said with a frown. "Not with Constructs and the like around. We're going to take a car, since the thing can't run very fast."
"Fine," Willow sighed, standing up and exiting the shop.
"Right then," Giles said with a nod. "Don't forget to call Tara and warn her that Willow is on the way," he whispered when Willow was out the door. Quickly, he followed, reaching for his keys.
"Okay, is anyone else ready to vote Tara 'Sweetest Girlfriend on the Earth?'" Anya asked, putting her hand up in the air.
After a moment, three more hands raised as the rest of the Scoobies showed their agreement.
"Hey," Anya said, smacking Xander in the shoulder. "You don't get to agree with me," she said with a frown.
"No, you're the sweetest fiancée," Xander said slowly. "Totally different category." Anya expression softened, and a surprised and pleased smile crossed her face, her eyes twinkling.
"Well, okay then," she agreed.
"Do you think Willow has any idea?" Dawn asked.
"Oh, none," Buffy said with a shake of her head. "That particular brand of Willow Panic was the 'I have no idea what's going on' Willow Panic."
"Oh, Tara!" Anya let out suddenly, dashing to the phone. She picked it up and hurriedly dialed the number at the Summers Residence.
"Hello?" Tara asked breathlessly into the phone on the fourth ring.
"Tara! Willow's on her way. Should be any minute now," Anya explained.
"Already?" Tara squeaked, shifting nervously. She had spent the entire day setting up, and it was already far nearer sunset than she had anticipated. Between casting the sacred circle for the spell and the special dinner she had planned, she had been extremely busy.
"Yes, already. This doesn't work if she isn't home before sunset," Anya said with a frown. "You know that."
"Oh, I know ... I just ... I'm not completely dressed yet," Tara explained.
"Oh, well, that's fine. Then Willow won't have to imagine you in your underwear. She'll be able to see it."
"Umm ..." Tara began, about to question Anya, then deciding she didn't really want to know what Anya meant. "I have to go ... get ready," Tara said hurriedly. "I'm leaving the phone off the hook, so if there's an emergency … oh, umm … just … try not to have an emergency, okay?"
"Right. Good bye," Anya said cheerily, then disconnected the phone.
Tara listened to the dial tone for a moment as she went over a checklist in her head. Had she remembered everything? She certainly wanted to get this right.
She put the receiver down, making good on her promise to leave the phone off the hook, and went to the closet, pulling out a simple dress that Willow had always liked. It was probably her nicest outfit, but casual, and as far as she knew, that was correct. But was it? The stuff she read said "nice clothes" or "best clothes" but … they didn't mean, like, formal wear or anything, right?
Tara gazed at her closet uncertainly, wondering if she should change. Of course, she'd really feel silly running around in an evening gown, and it wasn't like she had one handy anyway, so she decided to leave it. Quickly, she dashed to the bathroom, running a brush through her hair and returning it to some semblance of order. She had already dried and brushed it after her bath, but then she had finished up a few things, and it had ended up in a state of disarray once again.
"Oh, candles," she said out loud, checking the mirror once more. She had never really thought of herself as pretty, and she hadn't really cared. Taking the time and effort to worry about her appearance seemed silly when she really just wished she would be invisible anyway. It was easier not to be noticed - not to be talked to. Then she wouldn't have to worry about stuttering and making a fool of herself.
When had all that changed? Willow, of course, had been the impetus. But when exactly was that? Was there some defining moment where she decided she wanted to be attractive to the other girl, or was it a slow progression as Willow had skillfully and subtly drawn her out of her shell?
Not that she needed to dress up for Willow. She knew she could wear a burlap sack, and Willow would look at her with love and desire in her eyes - but she found that she got an extra thrill when she could halt Willow's brain functions altogether.
She was just lucky that Willow appreciated - and in some cases, even shared - her unique fashion sense. Her clothes weren't 'in' or 'fashionable', but they were a reflection of herself - slightly quirky, a little off-beat. Besides, she mentally added with a wicked twinkle in her eye as she moved to hall closet where she had a stash of candles, the skirts she had substituted for her baggy jeans made romantic encounters in unconventional locations a little easier. Less wrist strain.
She grabbed two candles and headed downstairs to the dining room where she had already set the table with the best china. She placed the candles on the table running along the wall, then turned to double-check the place settings. Everything seemed to be in order.
All the food was staying warm in the oven, she'd unscrewed the lightbulb in the refrigerator, and similarly, all the lights in the house were off. Only a series of slow-burning candles in each room already lit would light their way once the sun set, and Tara let herself relax for a moment.
It had been a busy day indeed.
She took a few deep breaths, trying to settle her nerves. Would Willow like this surprise? She really wasn't sure. The lack of computer use the following day would likely drive her a little insane, but Tara was sure they're manage.
"The computer!" she said, standing bolt upright and moving into the living room. Willow's computer was sitting there, humming happily, and Tara eyed it uncertainly. Touching Willow's computer without her permission seemed something akin to reading her diary. Still - it needed to be turned off.
Tara approached the computer, narrowing her eyes.
"All right, you tyrant," she muttered, thinking about how much time Willow actually spent on the thing. "Your reign has ended."
Willow walked into the house to see her girlfriend wearing her favorite dress and eyeing her computer like a gunslinger who was about to draw.
"Ummm, hi," Willow said with a nervous little wave, looking back and forth between Tara and her computer. "Umm … problem?"
"Oh, Willow," Tara said, looking over and smiling, her posture relaxing. "That," she said imperiously, pointing a finger at the computer, "needs to be turned off."
"Umm … sure," Willow said, sitting down and checking the programs she had running. "There are a few things running right now, but I can turn it off later after -"
"No," Tara said, shaking her head. "You shut it down properly, or I'm pulling the plug."
"W-what?" Willow squeaked, hovering over her innocent laptop protectively. "Pull the plug?"
"I'm serious," Tara said, then her expression softened. "No beeping computers, no research, no Hellmouth, no Hell Gods, no vampires, no slayers, no classes, no homework. Just us."
"Umm, okay," Willow said, an uncertain frown appearing on her face. Tara was acting kind of … odd. Still, she had asked Willow to dinner, and had gone to the trouble of cooking, and there were candles all over - candles? Willow grinned delightedly and quickly shut down her computer, snapping it closed with a resounding click. Candles were … romantic. And Tara was …
Willow let herself really look at Tara, her eyes roaming over the simple dress that flatteringly outlined her figure, in a shade of soft blue that made her eyes seem more intense. She took in those features she knew as well as her own, her grin toning down and becoming a soft, sweet smile.
"You're beautiful," she breathed.
"Thank you," Tara said, a pleased flush crawling up her neck as she dipped her head self-consciously. She had learned long ago not to argue with Willow about this. Even though she still thought 'beautiful' was a bit much, and perhaps 'pretty' would be more accurate, she had learned to just be thankful that Willow found her beautiful and to let it go at that.
"No, really," Willow said earnestly, rising to her feet, about to continue when Tara's posture stiffened visibly.
"Oh! The time!" Tara blurted out, then rushed from the room. Willow followed at a more sedate pace, frowning and wondering what had caused Tara such alarm. Her first thought was that something was cooking, but Tara had headed for the dining room.
Willow walked into the room and froze in the doorway in time to see a flaring match in Tara's hand as she lit the second of two candles. With a flick of her wrist, Tara extinguished the match, placing it in a little tray, then raised her hands to place her palms over her eyes.
Willow recognized the motion immediately, even though it had never occurred to her that she would ever see Tara performing the act. She slapped her hands over her own eyes quickly, surprised when she heard Tara's voice in sync with her own.
"Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha'olam, asher kidshanu b'mitzvotav, v'tzivanu l'hadlik neir shel Shabbat."
The words rolled easily off of Tara's tongue - she had practiced them long enough - and a sense of peace drifted over her and for some reason she thought of her mother. It occurred to Tara that her mom would have liked this - it had a sense of history and tradition to it, and the symbolism would have appealed to her as Tara found it appealing to herself. She let her hands drop, and a self-conscious smile played upon her lips.
Willow's hands lowered slowly, her face a perfect picture of wonder.
"Tara?" Willow said uncertainly, entranced by the play of shadow and light from the Shabbat candles flickering across Tara's face. "I … you …" Words completely eluded her, and she found herself unable to catch hold of any as she trailed off into silence.
"Is this okay?" Tara asked, turning towards Willow, her face showing her trepidation. "I mean, I … I've kinda' wanted to do this for awhile, and I probably should have asked first, but -"
"Oh, no," Willow stopped her talk. "This is … I mean … it's really nice."
"Because I … I know you don't - I mean, you uhhh … haven't observed the Shabbat since we've been together, so I didn't know if it was, umm, important to you, or what, but I wanted to, umm… share this … with you," Tara explained haltingly, taking a small step towards Willow.
"How did you know?" Willow asked, gesturing to the candles and rocking her weight forward onto the balls of her feet and back.
"I, uhh … I kinda' umm … I looked it all up. When I, uhh, found out you were Jewish," Tara said, her eyes lowering as she chewed on her lower lip.
"Tara," Willow said slowly, her jaw sagging as she gaped at the girl. "That was before we got together."
"I know," Tara said simply, a shy self-conscious smile crossing her face. "I said I, uhh … I've been wanting to do this for a, umm … while."
"Why?" Willow asked simply, unsure of what she meant by that question. A million "why's" flittered through her brain. Why would Tara go to all this trouble? Why would she want to observe a tradition from a faith she didn't share? And why didn't this incredible woman just walk away from her and never look back, after she had hurt her so badly?
"It's kind of, umm … complicated. Do you really want …?" Tara hedged.
"Yes," Willow nodded, prompting Tara to continue. Willow's brain kicked in to high gear as she tried to understand exactly what had motivated Tara to go to all this work to set up a Shabbat dinner for her. She certainly didn't need Tara to do anything like this, and she couldn't fathom what had made her go to all that trouble - not that she didn't appreciate it. No, she felt … it was hard to really decide how she felt. Crazy in love, definitely. Warmed, assuredly. But … puzzled.
Tara sighed, trying to order her thoughts. It really was complicated. "At first I just, umm … I wanted to know more about you. I wanted to know everything about you, so I, uhh… I spent a lot of time in the library reading."
"That's … so sweet," Willow said with a sigh, her heart fluttering in her chest as she pictured Tara nervously requesting assistance finding books on Judaism. "But, Baby? If you've been planning this for years, why, umm… why now?" Willow took a step closer.
"That's the, umm, complicated part. Kinda' hard to explain," Tara said, letting out a puff of air and trying to compose herself. Why was she so nervous? She couldn't remember the last time she had been so ill at ease doing something for Willow. It was probably because she felt a little … well, silly. Here she was, putting together a Shabbat dinner for a faith Willow didn't necessarily subscribe to. But it was important to Tara that they share this. So how could she explain that to Willow?
"Try," Willow urged gently, taking that final step and reaching out, her hand finding Tara's and their fingers twining together. A warmth seemed to build and spread from where their palms pressed together, and Tara smiled shyly, looking up into Willow's eyes and seeing a familiar curiosity there, wrapped up in a soft and loving gaze.
"Well, there's the whole 'dinner with your parents' thing," Tara said wryly, squeezing Willow's hand gently. "I wanted to, y'know, kind of, umm… practice."
"Okay," Willow said, her face creasing into a grin. "And?"
Tara's expression turned serious as she looked at Willow, her free hand reaching up to brush against Willow's cheek. "We, uhh, we can't really, umm … cast spells together, anymore," she said softly. "And that was … it, uhh … it was always such a spiritual thing, that we shared," she said, shaking her head, frustrated with her inability to express everything she was thinking.
"And you wanted to keep sharing something spiritual?" Willow guessed, looking into Tara's eyes and letting her love for this woman bubble up from her depths and suffuse her being.
Tara nodded, a relieved look crossing her face. "And, umm … wicca … it's my religion, my faith. You've, uhh… you've shared in mine, and I kind of, wanted to, umm … I wanted to share in yours."
Right then, at that moment, Willow couldn't not kiss this woman. Willow wrapped her arm around Tara's waist, pulling her close, and gently claiming those lips with her own. Tara let out a little gasp of surprise, then relaxed, giving Willow's hand another squeeze.
The kiss was soft and sweet, and they lingered there, tasting each other leisurely. Heartbeats quickened and breaths grew ragged, their bodies pushing together. After a long moment, Willow slowly pulled back, resting her forehead against Tara's and taking deep breaths.
"I could spend days just kissing you," Tara murmured.
"If you spent days just kissing me, I'd be ready for the mental ward by the time you were done," Willow rejoined, a smile crossing her face. They rocked gently where they stood, and Tara smiled back.
"I didn't say >where< I'd be kissing you," Tara responded, her smile taking on a sultry quality.
"Oh, wow," Willow uttered as she felt her heartbeat pick up again at Tara's words. "Umm … we'll have to schedule a few free days as soon as possible, then."
"Definitely," Tara said with a nod before finding Willow's lips again for a quick kiss. With a determined look, she stepped back out of Willow's embrace, but kept their hands entwined. "So now we're supposed to sing and pray to welcome Shabbat?" she asked.
"Huh?" Willow uttered ingeniously.
"Shabbat? Friday sundown to Saturday sundown? Jewish tradition?" Tara offered helpfully, a warm flush suffusing her body as she realized just how powerfully she affected Willow.
"Oh, right! With the candles and singing and wine, and dinner … definitely a dinner in there somewhere," Willow said.
"I, umm … I don't know any of the songs, though," Tara confessed. "I couldn't find any music or recordings."
"Oh, well, no problem," Willow said, pulling her brain out of its Tara-haze and back to the Shabbat at hand. "I could, umm, teach you, though … I mean, my voice - it's like rocks in a blender, only without the pleasant tones, or we could, umm … skip it."
"Will you teach me?" Tara asked shyly, an enthusiastic look on her face.
Willow sighed happily, drinking in the warmth pouring from Tara's eyes. There was nothing she would refuse this woman, when she looked at her like that. With a nod, she agreed, and they sat at the table, their hands still clasped together. Carefully, Willow taught a song she had grown up with, and Tara learned quickly, repeating each line after Willow until she had mastered it.
"No, it's 'likrat kallah', not 'likrut kelleh'," Willow corrected gently, helping Tara with her pronunciation. With a determined look that made Willow's heart melt, Tara repeated the phrase, then sang the line, and Willow bounced giddily in her chair when Tara got it right. "Now the whole thing?" she asked, finding that sharing this tradition with Tara made it far more meaningful to her than it had ever been growing up.
Tara nodded and they began, singing the ages-old traditional song to welcome Shabbat, and Willow couldn't help but grin at Tara, her beautiful voice doing wonders for the piece. Willow certainly didn't sing half as well, and Willow's mother was even more hopeless.
The moment, Willow realized, was bittersweet. Though she was enjoying this time with Tara, she couldn't help but compare it to the Shabbat dinners of her youth. Shabbat used to be her favorite time of the week, when she and her parents would just sit and talk for hours. As she grew older, she came to resent their attempt at 'togetherness', becoming keenly aware through their attention on Shabbat just how much she didn't have their attention every other time.
Ruthlessly, she quashed the thoughts as she and Tara wound up the song, smiling with delight. Tara had gone to a lot of trouble to share this with her, and she refused to let dreary memories get in the way. This wasn't about her parents - it was about Shabbat; a day of peace and rest and togetherness. And she would do everything she could to make this first Shabbat for Tara a special one indeed.
Willow grinned broadly at Tara, and Tara couldn't help but grin back, the expression so joyous and infectious she was helpless against it.
"Now is usually the blessing of the children, but … I mean, we don't have any lying around, unless you picked some up somewhere, and … you didn't kidnap some kids so we could bless them, did you?" Willow rambled, her brain getting away from her again.
Tara laughed gently, then shook her head. "No, I'm trying to cut back on my kidnappings," she said earnestly, a discernible twinkle in her eye. At least, it was discernible to Willow, who knew when and where to look for it. Most people were fooled by Tara's perfectly innocent demeanor, but Willow knew just what an incredible sense of humor Tara had.
"Oh, good," Willow said with mock relief. "Because you're not supposed to have any monetary transactions on Shabbat, which means we couldn't post bail, and then, y'know, we'd be in the slammer until tomorrow."
"The slammer?" Tara said with a giggle, raising an eyebrow. "Is that what you hardened criminals call it?"
"The slammer, the clink, up-river," Willow listed off. "We hardened criminals have lots of names for jail, y'know, 'cuz we spend so much time there."
"You should consider being a crime boss," Tara said, nodding sagely. "They hardly ever go to jail. I mean, except for tax evasion. And you'd be careful on your taxes, right?"
"Oh, yeah," Willow said with a nod. "I may be a hardened criminal, but I'd never skimp on the taxes."
"So, umm, no kids … so we skip to the 'Shalom Alecheim'? That's another song, right?" Tara asked.
"Yeah," Willow said with a smile. "Though, technically, we could be kids, but it's a parent or authority figure kind of person who does the blessing, so we could skip. And, umm… do you want to learn this song, too?"
"Oh, absolutely," Tara said with an eager nod.
"Okay," Willow agreed, smiling again despite herself. She honestly couldn't remember when she had last had such a good time on Shabbat, and found herself wondering how she didn't just keel over at how incredibly adorable Tara was. "The Shalom Alecheim is a song to welcome the Angels for Shabbat, and to offer them our hospitality," Willow explained, unsure of how much Tara's reading had taught her. "Ready?" she asked, and Tara nodded again.
"Shalom aleichem, malachei hasharet, malachei elyon. Mimelech malachei ha'm'lachim, hakadosh baruch hu," Willow sang, and Tara dutifully repeated the line. They continued, Willow teaching Tara the last three verses.
"It's pretty," Tara said with a soft smile, once they had finished.
"Thanks," Willow said automatically, then rolled her eyes self-deprecatingly. "'Thanks'," she mocked herself, sighing. "Like I wrote it or something."
"Like how sports fans high-five each other when their team makes a good play? As if they had anything to do with it?" Tara asked, her eyes dancing with mirth.
"Exactly like," Willow said with a smile. "I'm just a spectator in the Jewish Songwriting stands, and I just high-fived myself. Clearly, I must be stopped. Before you know it, I'll be waving around one of those foam fingers and doing a little dance."
"Actually, I think I high-fived you," Tara responded with a giggle. "Though, I think I'd pay to see the Jewish-Songwriting-Fan Dance."
Immediately, Willow got up from her chair and began hopping from foot to foot and waggling her head from side to side, her arms straight down in a dance move she remembered from her childhood.
Tara burst out laughing. "Honey, that's the Snoopy Dance."
"Oh, but it was the Jewish-Songwriting-Fan Dance first," Willow said seriously, pausing for a moment, then returning to her dancing. "Those darn animators shamelessly stole it."
Tara stood up and enfolded Willow into a tender embrace, stopping the dance. "You're such a doofus," she said tenderly. "You make my heart smile."
Feeling downright giddy, Willow returned the hug, squeezing Tara close to her and rocking back and forth. "I'm your doofus," Willow said, laughing for no other reason than the sheer joy of the moment.
"So," Tara said, pulling her head back to look at Willow. "Since I lit the candles, you gonna' recite Psalms 31:10 to me?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.
"We could skip it," Willow said after a moment, kissing Tara lightly. "I mean, I'm not a guy, and my Dad always …"
"But it's a traditional part of Shabbat," Tara pouted.
"It's a misogynistic part of Shabbat," Willow argued. "I mean, I still have a hard time believing my forward-thinking feminist sociologist mother actually sat through that every week, just smiling and beaming at dad."
"It's not misogynistic," Tara said with a shake of her head. "Those were the times. It's realistic. I mean, it's not all applicable now, but considering when it was written, it's actually kind of sweet," she said thoughtfully.
"You want me to do the Eishet Chayil?" Willow asked skeptically, then sighed. "Darn it all, Anya was right - I >am< the butch one."
Tara laughed lightly, and gave Willow a little squeeze. "I figured we could do this again sometime and, y'know, umm … switch roles?" she said, her eyes wide and innocent even as her voice dripped with innuendo. "Take turns?"
by Sassette » Sat Apr 06, 2002 5:42 am 
at: 4/7/02 5:38:18 am
God, I think that was one of the hottest things I've ever read.... 
but you LOVE me that way. 