Re: New Fic - Above, Between, Below

[4evaWill]

That was freaking fantastic, to say the least. I loved it!! I am very smiley now, thanks to you... Damn Wendy for turning up at exactly the wrong time, though... grr. But boy am I glad that Willow decided to go back... Tara's the only one for her. I loved. A lot.

*offers chocolate Cadbury*

Cath

Tara: No, I-I understand. You have to be with the person you l-love.

Willow: I am.

[Insanity]

Jellyfish.. *ggg*

I would like to do such a piece of arts, too..

But first I would like to read more of this great fic..



Please..



Insanity

"Nobody messes with my girl!" Tara, Bargaining

[SilverWingedNemesis]

HEHEHE





Well, that was...nice..LOL



Great update!!! Can't wait for more!!





~NICKOLE~

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

"Nobody messed with my girl"

[Geek]

Jeepers this is brilliant!



...Now why isn't my art department like this?? If it was I'd never leave work.



Jo

"Pretty darn lickable"

[ange04]

ohmygawd...this is way too funny!!! when work sucks, i just read this over and over. i'm sure people wonder why i have this stupid grin plastered on my face when i'm at my computer.



thanks for the update

ange

[The Rose24]

WOW. That is really embarrassing.



Willow is going back. It won't hurt her to miss one class. Hint. Hint.

Tara: My heart doesn't stutter.


Tara: Willow, I got so lost.

Willow: I found you. I will always find you.

[Kalita]

Now THERE's a piece of performance art.



Love the change of mind... who needs class when Tara is waiting?

"...you can make those two characters as dewey-eyed in love and it would never be too much."

-Chris Golden, on W/T

[RaiStarr]

This is just phenomenal. Painting with words. Gorgeous.



More please...



Rai

[tkheaven]

I've been reading this fic, and ya know what? I LOVE IT! This is great. The Willow babble it what amazes me the most!

Tk's new and improved "GrrArgg"...Tk's Heaven

---

"I've become really protective of her. I want to make sure if Tara comes back, it's for good reason." -Amber Benson
Tara ate her, devoured her from beneath. -The Edge of Silence giving new meaning to this season's catch phrase.
"Got it: that's a 'yes' to petals; a 'no' to pricks. I should remember that more often." -On Second Thought

[tiger17]

I just got caught up in the fic and I just have to say wow This is amazing, can't wait to read the next update

[Sister Bertrille]

Quote:

---

She had been changed. No, more than that. She was transformed. This was not Willow Rosenberg, erstwhile hacker, budding mathematician and best friend to the local Vampire Slayer -- but something else entirely. Years of social abandonment, anxiety and sexual confusion began to collapse down around her, like a house of cards, tumbling away, off the table, scattering to the winds.

---

Thank you so much for this. It is Tara's transformative effect on Willow as seen through the right side of the magnifying glass, as opposed to the confession Willow made in "Two to Blow." The brilliant metamorphosis you describe is as it should be, from chysalis to lepidopteran, and not from caviar to crap with a bad dye job!



Oh, and I don't like Wendy either ("skin-tight biker shorts?" Um, Wendy, isn't that a little excessive for first-period art class?!)



SB

[barnabasvamp]

Oh My, Tara on top...Gotta love it

Yeah Willow, get back there and get your girl



Your descriptions are so good. I could just see the 2 of them on the floor, covered in paint!! More Please...

BV

"In front of total strangers won't you kiss me, Flowers for no reason but you miss me - OOH, I wanna be in love"

Melissa Etheridge-Skin

[Twisted Minstrel]

*Shakes head, amazed*



Thank you all...just amazing comments for this fic and I'm sorry I don't have an update just yet...still working out the..ahem. Kinks. Right...to the feedback:



Mollyig - Wendy = evil. And nosy, too, really. Don't you love people like her?



Cath - Is there anything I wouldn't do for you? *Thinking* No, probably not...*Blambustered with chocolate* Thank you muchly sweetie!



Insanity - More to come!! Promise!!! Thank you!!



Nickole - The Cliffhanger Queen! Glad you enjoy!



Geek - Thank you! In my experience, art classes were fairly boring, too...but such potential!



Ange - Gollysnoodle! I mean, wow! Hope you don't get caught! Thank you for reading!



The Rose24 - Embarrassing, huh? I guess it's sad, we should be proud to be caught with someone we love...oh well.

Yes, Will's working on her priorities.



Kalita - I agree! I think Will does, too. She's such a smart girl.



Rai - Gosh, thank you...glad you enjoy! Thanks for reading!



TKHeaven - You vixen! Thank you so much...this fic loves you, too!



Tiger17 - Update is on it's way...thank you! Grrrowl.



Sister Bertrille - I really love your observations on things...and I'm so pleased you're enjoying this. And you're right, Wendy is pretty tasteless. Btw...Sister Bertrille = the Flying Nun, yes? I'm so honored!) Thank you again!



Barnabasvamp - Liking the visuals, I see. Hee hee. I find it helps sometimes, too. And Tara on top - duh! Thank you!



Right...update is slowly but surely making it's way to the board, might be a long one, so bear with me! Thanks again to you all, much love and a few well-placed kisses...



Piper

"Human kind cannot bear much reality." - T.S. Eliot

[RalSt31]

I just started this fic and I'm left a little confused about the feedback. I mean should I marvel at the comedy, that has me grinning away at my screen like an idiot and wishing to whomever that I could write Willowbabble so well OR do I bow down and heap praise on the utter sexiness of the whole thing? Then there's the internal dialogue, that is just so spot on and revealing that it gives the characters yet another layer.



All these decisions and I haven't even mentioned my newfound appreciation of performance art - I may become a regular at my local museum/theatre from now on.



Damn Wendy! Hurrah for Riley! (don't get to say that too often) and a big thanks to you.



I Love this fic



RalSt

[Twisted Minstrel]

RalSt - Thank you so much! I'm happy if you are happy. Here's an smallish update:



The Proof





For Cath…another silly song.





For I have lived to wait for you;

My heart was your approaching feet.



-        Paul Valery from The Footsteps





Time is not truly measurable. What we call “time” is merely the linear breakdown of a natural pattern: the sun rises, the sun sets. Points on a dial tell us when the sun is near or on the wane. Without this system, it is possible even our ability to age might be suspended. To be completely unaware of the passage of time – to be suspended from the forward motion of the universe – to be truly “timeless” – maybe the essence of immortality, of a sort, anyway.



Without such awareness, would we merely stay still, at one point, and never go any farther?



Tara’s predicament, for her, was no less troubling.



Time had ceased, the entire universe may well have imploded, the moment Willow ran, without so much as a backward glance to the destruction she had been an unwitting accomplice to.



There was no hurt left in the world, only a nagging ache that filled the air around her, like a noxious poison. Endless hours of near-ravishment, shivering delirium, induced by Willow’s lips, her hands, everywhere, clutching, shaping her to a new will, her Will? Wasn’t she? She’d wanted nothing else for so long, the moment, they met, every particle, every element of water and atom, the fractured building blocks of her very self, cried out for completion.



Let me have this. My one friend, just mine; just for me. Let me have this.



She’d never asked for anything. She’d never wanted anything before. She didn’t know what would happen to her if she didn’t get it. Everything, the very nature of the universe itself, hinged on a single splash of color, of light. The composition would fall apart, all the colors wasted, the symmetry truncated, disconnected, all her work for nothing. A little stroke of light, to carry the picture; was it too much to ask for?



Why is red the color of danger? The color of endings, stop, yield, desist, verboten? Her hair, like a warning, I should have seen it. I should have paid attention.



During the night her heart had slipped from her chest, abandoned her to take up residence with the heart of Willow Rosenberg. She had let it go, freely, easily, without complaint.



She had been so certain, just moments ago. Had she been wrong? How could Willow abandon her so quickly? For a psych class she was already late for?



Wendy was clearly enjoying the anti-spectacle of the multi-colored Tara, unnerved, caught red-handed (red again!), ashamed.



No. I am not ashamed.



She glanced at her work. Her mother, swollen with pride, with her in a moment of perfection, was smiling at her. Would she forgive Willow? Willow, who was constantly running away, off somewhere else, with her other friends, her other life; a life she had no place in.



How painful had it been those days, before anyone knew she existed? When Willow would only nod as they passed in the halls, her gaze, quick to avert, quick to smile at Xander or Buffy, anyone but her?



She told her she wanted something just for herself; that was the excuse. She had been bottling Tara in miniscule increments, opening her now and then to have a sniff or take a sip, then putting her away again, high on the hidden shelf in the back of her anxiety closet. Closed.



Endless hours of staring, maddening touches that grew too tired to explore further. She held onto Willow for dear life, trapping her like something that might get loose if she let up for even a moment.



She had her; she’d held her close, pinning her to the floor, victorious. For a moment. Willow’s escape had been inevitable. Such a force of nature would not be contained. What made her think she could? Was she in love? Was that it?



Am I in love?



I barely know her.



Am I in love with Willow?



What does it mean?



Why can’t I move?



What am I going to do?



Wendy had gone, off to her own space, taking her self-righteous triumph with her. Students were entering the labs; she was surrounded now, by her total failure – what else was there to do but pick up the mess?



She knelt, drawing up the mangled tubes of paint, painfully aware of the number of eyes watching her, curious. Eyes of those who never spoke to her, but observed, from a distance; mocking even, or simply indifferent.



Tears were forming, threatening her, as she tried to assemble her kit as quickly as possible. No one would help her, ask her anything. Wendy, not doubt, was well on her way to starting a salty rumor and Tara wished she hadn’t been so distracted, just told the truth.



Willow wasn’t a project for her.



“Can I help?”



The voice, at once small and breathless nearly sent her off balance. She didn’t look up.



“It’s alright. You’re late for class, W-Willow.”



“I know.”



“Then you’d better get going.”



The room had become a tunnel now, a black hole, all eyes were being drawn to it’s center: two young women covered in paint…and something like pain.



“I don’t want to go.”



Willow knelt beside her, placing a greenish hand over Tara’s bluish ones.



“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking just now.”



Tara’s eyes closed involuntarily, sending a single tear, running pinkish down her cheek. A Willow thumb moved to intercept, drawing away some of the color, revealing the girl beneath.



She could not look away forever; time held nothing in its hands but the sun. She belonged to someone else now and the whole world, her family, Wendy and anyone else who didn’t like it could just get stuffed for all she cared anymore.



Kneeling together, their eyes the only universe to be considered; the only theory to be tested.



Their lips, warm strokes of red, were the only proof.



And before a dozen astonished eyes (in case they didn’t understand before), they explained it again and again and again.





TBC….

"Human kind cannot bear much reality." - T.S. Eliot

Edited by: Twisted Minstrel at: 12/6/02 12:19:03 pm

[DarkWiccan]

I. Am. Loving. This. Fic!



Nuff said.



Cheers

DW

[RalSt31]

This is an amazing story!



RalSt

[mollyig]

Loved Tara's thoughts on the colour red, how they changed to the positive of Their lips, warm strokes of red, were the only proof. Just lovely.

---

I happen to think mine is the level head,
and yours is the one things would roll off of.

[4evaWill]

Well. You've left me speechless a dozen times before... maybe I'm just not very good with words, but really, this is - amazing.

Quote:

---

During the night her heart had slipped from her chest, abandoned her to take up residence with the heart of Willow Rosenberg. She had let it go, freely, easily, without complaint.

---

This especially touched me... I marvel at how you do it, manage to capture them and their emotions and feelings just right.



And I'm glad that Tara was not ashamed.



I know I haven't said much on these updates, and I'd just like to say now that this is an amazing fic and I am really, incredibly blambustered. Looking forwards to more!

Cath

Tara: No, I-I understand. You have to be with the person you l-love.

Willow: I am.

[Sister Bertrille]

I love what you do with the color red in this chapter – it would appear, given the “damn the torpedoes” kiss at the end, that red is not so much the color of danger as it is of action, perhaps even of change. Like the Death card in Tarot, “stop[ping], yield[ing], desist[ing]” are often disguises for what is really a realization, a change of direction, a first step.



Great Paul Valéry epigraph. One of my favorite Valéry quotes, “L’amour consiste à être bête ensemble” (Love consists in being stupid together), touches upon the agonizing and delicious confusion that you so lyrically paint here.



SB

[The Rose24]

TM,



You have such a way with words. I am really happy Willow decided to go back. I can't wait to see the rest of your development of the W/T relationship.

Tara: My heart doesn't stutter.


Tara: Willow, I got so lost.

Willow: I found you. I will always find you.

[Grimlock72]

Tara thinking no-one wants her was so sad



Willow came back though, that was the good part Especially this line: "And before a dozen astonished eyes (in case they didn’t understand before), they explained it again and again and again."... let them gawk all they want, just be happy together



Also liked how Willow brushed away some color from Tara to 'get to the girl underneath'. Nice use of imagery.



Grimmy

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

[samiamiguess]

Oh I so love the way you write.



I've had a couple of updates to catch up on but they've been just marvellous. Your descriptions of time, colour and Tara's pain were just so eloquent and expressive that I find myself thinking deeper as I ponder your words. Lovely.



Sonya

[II OddKitten II]

This fic is great! Please update soon.

[Sleek]

i couldn't help but comment how well crafted your writing is.



i feel like i just stepped into an art museum and each chapter is a masterpiece worthy to ponder on...and enjoyed...again and again and again.



even your language, just like the way you paint Willow and Tara...combines the phenomena of the scientific and the riveting experience of art.



breath taking, I'm in awe.



keep up the goodwork.



Sleek

[Twisted Minstrel]

Well..thank you again to all for reading and writing, I feel bad not having an update for you. I am working on it, however and shall post forthwith as soon as I can...



DarkWiccan - Thank you for the Love....we love you back!



RalSt31 - Glad you like, and thank you, too!



Mollyig - Symbols abound in my stories and I don't apologize for them, glad you like and thank you!



Cath - *Big bear hugs, chocolate and silly kisses* I'm speechless, now.



Sister Bertrille - I agree with you on all the above; red is perhaps the most deeply symbolic color of all, the color of emotions, change, transformation - which is significant here, of course. And Valery's a favorite of mine as well. The 'need' of those words is so aching, yet simple. Perfect for Tara's emotional status at this point.



TheRose24 - Thank you muchly - more to come, promise...



Grimlock - Glad you like and much thanks for reading!



Sonya - Thank you! You're too kind...



OddKitten - Update soon! Thanks for reading!



Sleek - Wow....I'm going to have to go back and read this story...doesn't sound like my silly, neurotic scribbles...I'm blambustered, though. Thank you so very much!



Okay...I'm having something of a crisis over the next bit (read: lots of agonizing over silly details like the configuration of dorm shower stalls), but I promise to post before the weekend is over...it's not over yet, is it? Thank you all again, I never know what to say, just utterly, gigigglynomously, blambusteringly, confuzzled and...and...something else, I'm sure.



Piper

*Still running, madly, in ever-widening circles*

[SilverWingedNemesis]

*SIGHS*



I am SOO loving this fic!!



Great update!! Hope you keep up the great work!!



*waiting patiently for more*



Great job!!!



~NICKOLE~

[Twisted Minstrel]

Nickole - thank you again, glad you enjoy! Here's an update..





Symmetry





For Cath….your faithful Spoon





Love consists in this,

That two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other.



-Rainer Maria Rilke





Once upon a time, a somewhat unusual (albeit unremarkable) event took place within the (unknowingly) doomed chambers of the University of California campus at Sunnydale. Though there were witnesses (several of whom went on to high-paying careers in the media industry and at least four who died of ‘jugular rupture,’ a common cause of death among Sunnydale residents at the time), no one bothered to record the event. Not a single one wrote of it in their journal or in letters home; and though the details were whispered among the school’s populace, in time, the specifics were lost.



Such is history; wars and famines, plagues and pettiness forever blot the ledgers of time. With industrious calculation and precision, the finer points are lost, only the most eye-catching, easily-understandable adventures remain for posterity. And while such blatant disregard for the little things, the small details, would have been something Willow Rosenberg would never have approved of, it is arguable, that, just this once, she didn’t really mind.



She was one-half of that singular event after all; and, at the time, was not terribly interested in sharing the specifics with a crowd.



Besides, she and Tara were covered in drying paint that was threatening to turn permanent if they didn’t remove it, and soon.







The women’s shower in Stevenson Hall was empty. The students were already in class or missing class entirely; two in particular.



Poking silently through each maze-like corner of the room, Willow led Tara to the stall farthest from the entrance, with the most privacy. They had paused in their kisses only moments before, and, not wanting to be rude as class was starting, immediately dashed into the hall, up two flights of stairs and down one empty corridor before they realized there was no need to run.



For once, no one was following them; no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to them. They could have continued with their feverish caresses and lip sucking, right there, in the corridor, in broad daylight, and no one would possibly care. But they had somehow stopped near the entrance to the showers, and a silent agreement passed between them.



We look funny and we’re both a little ripe.



Standing several inches from the other, they stood, unmoving. They held one another’s gaze as their heads nodded in time with the other, arms folded over their chests, unable to calm the hammering inside. Modesty and shock-driven jitters kept them at bay. Such a new experience: who would go first?



Decisions needed to be made and rather quickly; who knew when a chattering, prattling post-adolescent estrogen brigade would come storming in and ruin the moment?



Simultaneously they reached for the other; their eyes had not descended, not one lash had moved. Tara’s fingers, trembling, unbuttoned the front of Willow’s shirt; Willow’s hands, returning to the site of a familiar encounter, undid the single button on Tara’s cargos, slowly lowering the zipper. Her shirt hanging open, exposing a narrow plane of pale flesh, Willow knelt, her chin still pointing upward, her eyes fastened to Tara’s, and gently eased the other girl’s trousers down, exposing just bare flesh. Willow’s gaze fluttered momentarily over the soft, sun-painted down, and the moist, pinkish protrusion within; her tongue fluttered against her lips, her breath catching, returning, then finishing the job, over each ankle, removing Tara’s bulky sandals in the process. She folded the trousers neatly and placed them on the bench beside her, along with the sandals. Rising, her hands slid cautiously under Tara’s paint-splashed t-shirt, raising it over her head and off her shoulders, placing it on top of the growing stack.



Tara’s shaking hands pushed Willow’s shirt off her shoulders, pulling each arm through, discarding the stained material near her own pile of goods.



The Stare held them fast; even in their trembling, careful manner, they remained still, mesmerized and silent. Reaching behind, Tara unclasped her bra, drawing the lacy material forward, mimicked by Willow who did the same for her own. Together, they tossed the confining harnesses aside; Willow’s gaze being the first to break, again, her eyes dropping like ballast over the side of a balloon, to land, slowly, delicately on Tara’s full, exposed breasts.



Betrayed, Tara reached out and cupped the red-head’s chin, drawing her face upward, and forward.



“We’re not done yet.”



Tara’s empty hand reached for the waistband of Willow’s trousers, deftly releasing the button clasp. She reached for the red-head’s hips, lowering her garments, outer and under, to join her own in the delicate heap. With only a momentary sense of surprise, Tara smiled to herself as she took notice of Willow’s coppery curls; she was a real red head.



The Stare returned, and with it a newfound sense of vulnerability; neither had felt so exposed, so open before. Fear was not far away, lurking in a nerve or two, but courage was never wanting. Willow found the water knobs and turned them, the dense electric spray drawing shivers at first as the shower sputtered to life.



Tara arched into the stream, her eyes closing as the heat bathed her, her hair turning dark and damp against her face, against her pale shoulders. Colorful rivers pooled at their feet; they stood in the last vestiges of a rainbow. In the wet, their eyes twinkled brightly, blue and green: emerging as sapphire and emerald. Their hands were studying cartography; fingers traced gently over the other’s faces, memorizing maps for future exploration. Over lips and cheeks, in the furrow of a brow, the hollow of an ear. The water drew them in, together, their breasts making soft acquaintance, their legs winding in greeting like vines along a tree, maybe a Willow tree at that.



Newborn as the past washed away beneath them, they joined beneath the christening font, arms winding round the other; their heads nestled within the comforting cradle of the others’ shoulder. There was no rush, no raging compulsion to disentangle and burn a few extra calories in the exquisite pursuit of release; they were abandoned to enchantment.



Their pulses had slowed, into a steady, synchronous rhythm; glistening, heated flesh grew soft, delicious sweet as an old secret, uncovered and savored again in a new light, with new eyes. Willow’s fingers waded lazily through Tara’s rising tide, dancing along the edges, the sting of the spray against her face, against Tara’s warm cheek.



They were, as they had never been, and would always be. The moment held no glory, no momentous, world-spinning consequence; only a kiss, at once a memory and a wish, the only witness to a most tender (and unexpected) metamorphosis.



TBC…

"Human kind cannot bear much reality." - T.S. Eliot

[WiccansIllusion]

Wha...you can't stop there!!!

Tara nodded in agreement "She has magic fingers." TheWisdom of War, Chris Golden



You dont really think this is like, Psycho Buffy Cheer Squad central, do you?-Xita ala Julia "Lessons Parody"

[Little M]

Wow you described that so beautifully, thank you

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


'I go online sometimes, but everyone's spelling is really bad..it's depressing' - Tara