Hello Kittens!
This story will be very short, no more than say, three installments or so.And yes, it is finished, so there will be no waiting for chapters that doesn't happen...
Title: Red's Diner
Author: Reallybigpineapple
Distribution: Yup, whatever.
Rating: PG-13 to R (I think?)
Disclaimers: I own nothing blah blah, owner is the evil Joss that be and so forth
Summary: Very AU. Set during the american depression. No monsters, bar human.
Notes: This subject might seem pointless, but I went to an exhibition of contemporary art and saw a video installment of the depression which just happen to feature a series of pictures of a diner in the south called Red's Diner with a woman standing behind the counter looking sort of like Alyson H. Next to her was this person looking a little like... oh, well the rest you can guess. My fan fic injured brain wanted to write a fic about it, so I let it...
What do I know of the depression in America? Not much, so feel free too bitch if you find a lot of fault, which you're bound to...
Also, this is a feeble attempt at writing AE, so feel free to bitch about that too, since there will be errors.
Notes 2: Upon re-reading it, I've noticed that it resembles Fried Green Tomatoes a little. My subconscious did that to me, I'm innocent.
Notes 3: Those of you reading Butterfly: Sorry, my muse have been a bitch lately, but as you can see, I've given her a good work out, so there will be a new chapter 'ere long. She said hopefully...
Red’s Diner
Sunnydale, Georgia 1932
Chapter one: A Handsome Stranger rides into town.
Willow Rosemount wiped her hands on her apron, sighing. It was only quarter past eight in the morning, and it was already sweltering.
Joyce Summers had been over at seven to put another batch of her cornbread in the oven, same as usual. Willow sighed again. Sometimes she was convinced that her life would never change…
The sound of a coughing, decrepit engine breaking down made Willow gaze out through the window. Three men got out of a pickup truck, arguing in hushed voices. One of them was just a boy, judging from his height. He bent his head down like he was trying to protect himself against the scolding he was receiving from the tallest of the three.
“I don’t wanna hear another word from you about this, is that clear? Just get it fixed or you can find your own food and shelter tonight!”
The two larger men swung knapsacks over their shoulders and walked down the dusty dirt road, leaving the boy alone, still hanging his head. He took off his hat and wiped the sweaty brow with a rag, before getting a socket wrench from the back of the car and lifting the hood of the car with effort.
A few minutes later, she glanced through the window again to see the boy bent over the hood, shaking his head. He took the rag out from his pocket again and ran it over his tanned neck, probably very hot from the mercilessly gazing sun. Willow felt sorry for him, having to stand out in the heat like that. He took a drink from a worn army issue canteen, probably WW1 by the looks of it. She watched with concern as he shook the last few drops out of the bottle and into his mouth. Clutching the canteen protectively to his chest, he approached the door with hesitant steps.
“Come on then. We’ll help, just as we help all other strays who come through this town because of this miserable depression” Willow thought to herself as she looked at the figure hesitating by the door.
The little bell chimed as he entered the diner. A ray of sun suddenly showed the stranger’s face and Willow drew a quick breath.
Despite the dungarees and the man’s shirt, the boy was a girl. And she was absolutely beautiful. She smoothed her plait of honey blond hair in place and glanced shyly up at Willow with sky blue eyes. The stranger’s beauty was in no way diminished by the sorry state of her boots or the smudge of engine grease on her right cheek.
“ Morning ma’am. Sorry to b-bother you.”
The girl touched the brim of her hat in a quaint greeting and Willow’s stomach filled with butterflies. The accent was a soft southern. Alabama, Willow guessed, but she wasn’t sure.
“No bother. What can I get you?” Willow smiled a tentative smile, not knowing why she suddenly felt out of her depth.
“I was wondering if you’d mind just filling up my water bottle, if it’s no trouble, ma’am.”
Willow smiled and nodded.
The diner was filled with the delicious scent of Joyce’s bread, the pancakes sizzling away in the kitchen and a fleeting remainder of Gunn’s excellent barbeque from yesterday. The blond girl’s stomach rumbled audibly as her eyes darted involuntarily to the cooking pancakes.
“Can I get you some breakfast or something?” Willow smiled at the girl as she handed the filled canteen back.
“No thank you. I j-just ate.” The blonde looked away and moved her feet restlessly in her place as the uncomfortable lie forced its way past her lips.
Willow took the hint. The girl was obviously poor. Otherwise she wouldn’t look like that, wearing cast off dungarees from a man much bigger than her and that once-white shirt that hadn’t seen the inside of a laundry for some time. She wasn’t the first to pass through town, to poor to buy food, looking for odd jobs to make a few nickels or for a barn to sleep in. Willow poured a cup of coffee and buttered some corn bread and put in front of her.
“No thank you, ma’am. I have no money to pay you with.” The girl wouldn’t look her in the eyes as she spoke.
“It’s on the house. Coffee’s been on for too long and the bread’s yesterday’s so we would chuck it out anyway, so…” Willow lied casually, knowing full well that the stranger would know she was lying; No-one threw good bread away in times like these.
She couldn’t explain why, but she really wanted the girl to stay.
With the common sense of the poor and starved, the girl pretended to believe the lie and sat down to eat the offered food. Willow sensed that it took her some effort to mind her manners and not just wolf it down.
“How’s your car?”
Willow rolled her eyes at the lameness of her question. The car was obviously a mess.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to fix it this time. My father will be c-cross about that.”
Willow believed her full well, remembering the brutish manner of the man.
“I could ask Harris to have a look-see? He’s fixed our truck a couple of times.”
“Really? I’d sure appreciate it…”
The hopefulness in the girl voice was almost painful.
“But…” she looked down again.
“Don’t worry about money. He’s a friend. He owes me a great big pile of favors. Really huge with the favor piles, me and Harris. Yes suree bob.” (Shut up already!) she told herself sternly on the inside.
“Hope you don’t mind me asking, but whose horse is that chestnut bay in the paddock?” she asked politely between carefully measured bites
“Riley Finn’s. His farm is just up the road. That horse is lame though. He’s thinking of having him put down”
“I could take a look... I kind of know about horses”
“Well, if you’sure? That would be great. Finn really needs him for the harvest. His tractor broke and he can’t afford a new one until next year. ”
“S-sure, no problem. Tonight?”
“I’m sure that would be fine. Finn isn’t exactly the boy about town. You can usually find him on his porch at night.”
Willow sighed with annoyance, but forced herself to smile, as another customer vied for attention. Serving up pancakes, she chatted amiably with the guest, as required, but she kept looking over her shoulder at the blond girl who was deeply immersed in the simple meal in front of her. She couldn’t help staring as the girl’s angelic features transformed to an expression of absolute bliss when she had a first sip of coffee. As if savoring a fine wine, the girl took a sip and swirled it around her tongue. She waited a few seconds before letting the dark, bitter liquid make its way down her throat. The she smiled a private smile of satisfaction. Willow’s diner was one of the few that still served coffee of a decent quality. It was one of the reasons people still came round even though they were short of cash.
“Ma’am?”
“Yes?” Willow wished intensely that the girl hadn’t noticed her staring.
“Could I ask you for a mighty big favor?”
“Yes.” Willow answered promptly.
“Would you mind terribly coming with me to Mr. Finn’s? My father would just kill me if he found out that I went to visit a man at night on my own. S-sorry to have to ask, but he’s convinced that men are up to no good…”
“No, problem, I’d be happy to.” For some reason, it made her really excited to think about spending an evening with her.
“Thanks a lot, ma’am.”
“I’m Willow.”
“Tara.” She extended her hand.
When Willow took the girl’s hand, it was more of a caress than a handshake. New sensations rushed through her body when they touched. The blonde’s hand stayed in hers, Tara making no effort to remove it.
Looking down, she was shocked at how cracked and sore the over worked hand looked.
“Your poor hands… They look awful.”
Quick as a snake, Tara whipped them away and tucked them under the counter.
“TARA!!” The rough sound of her father’s voice made her stand up abruptly to leave. And she was waking quickly towards the door, before Willow could regain her composure.
“Tara, I didn’t… mean for it to sound like that.” She finished feebly to herself, as the other girl had already made it out the front door.
She spent the rest of the day kicking herself for her clumsiness and trying to ignore the strange new thoughts going through her head when she thought about the blonde.
“Tara.” She rolled the name around her tongue, tasting it. She liked the taste of it. She liked the taste of Tara very much…
Chapter two: Of Women and Horses.
Slowly, like molasses, the hours went by and by eight she had almost managed to convince herself that Tara wasn’t going to show. Eight thirty, the bell chimed. The blonde walked in, rubbing her tired eyes.
“Hi…Sorry if I’m late, but there was a lot more work than I thought”
“No biggie!” Willow tried to sound breezy and casual, like she hadn’t been waiting anxiously for the last two and a half hours.
They left the diner to walk towards Finn’s place, leaving Joyce in charge.
Tara had some straw tangled in her hair and a big mud stain on the back of her trouser leg that she was probably unaware of. She was still the most beautiful woman Willow had seen.
She wasn’t sure why Tara made her feel slightly on edge all the time, but she just tried to not to talk too much. She knew that was a trademark of her nervousness. She tried light conversation.
“So, old Hank says that you are working for Mr Snyder up on Principal Farm. He seems like a bit of a grouch to me. Is he a good employer?”
“The grouch bit is true…”
Tara smiled. Willow felt like she lost her footing for a little while.
“Are you staying at the farm?”
“Sort of.”
Tara hesitated.
“We sleep in the barn. His prize bull is away at the fair, so there was a free spot for us.” Tara spoke levelly and shrugged her shoulders.
Willow stopped.
“Tara that’s horrible! He really makes you sleep in the barn?”
“It’s ok. At least we have a roof over our heads.”
Willow felt how her anger turned her stomach acidy. Tara was wonderful and shouldn’t have to live like this…
They walked in silence for a bit, Willow’s brain busy processing the truth about how Tara was forced to live. She stopped again.
“But does he at least pay you decently?”
Tara shrugged again.
“Daddy and Donnie get a few cents an hour. I don’t.”
“What, he doesn’t pay you at all?”
“I aint spending my hard earned money payin for a scrap of girl to do work that my coloured men could do with their little fingers; Heck, she doesn’t even look strong enough to lift the basket!”
The imitation of Snyder was surprisingly well found. Willow couldn’t help but smile. Tara smiled back and Willow decided to keep the mood light.
When they reached the paddock, the horse whinnied softly. Slowly, stiffly, it limped its way toward them. Willow waved at Riley Finn, who had spotted them from a distance.
“Good thing we managed to get some daylight.” Tara said, looked at the limping horse with a troubled frown.
Riley came strolling up, chewing on a piece of straw.
“I’d like to t-take a look at your horse, sir, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure would appreciate it.” Riley was not a man of many words.
Tara climbed in to the paddock and walked up to the horse. For a few minutes, she just stood there, murmuring softly to the horse, stroking its nose and gradually moving her hands further back, away from its head; with slow motions her hands worked their way down the horses neck and shoulder to its front legs. The horse rested its head on her shoulder.
“I bet that feels really good” Willow thought, stopping herself before crossing a mental line she was trying to avoid going beyond.
Tara began making her way down the horse’s side, all the time still talking and moving her hands over it in broad strokes.
“I’m not sure what she’s up to, but old Butler sure seems to be enjoying it.”
Willow just nodded, mesmerized by the confident movements of Tara’s hands and the obvious communication between woman and animal.
“Mr Riley?”
“Yup?”
“I think there’s something embedded in the muscle tissue in his shoulder here. Like a thorn or something. I’d like to try and get it out.”
“That’d be great ma’am.”
“Is there any chance of some hot water and alcohol to get it cleaned up? And maybe some strips of cotton fabric?”
“Well, I don’t really keep alcohol in the house…”
“Riley…” Willow rolled her eyes.
“I’ll just go and see if old Hank left some when he was here last week” the farmer mumbled and set off toward the farm house.
Tara climbed out of the paddock and walked over to a wide-eyed Willow.
“How did you do that?”
“D-do what?”
“That…thing? With the horse? How did you know what was wrong with him?”
“Well, my mama was this great horse woman. I guess she taught me what a horse was supposed to feel like, so I guess I can just tell when they seem… wrong somewhere. If you see what I mean?” Tara shrugged and looked down.
“Yes, I do. Magic. You can do some sort of horse magic.”
“Not really. There’s nothing much to it. Mama was amazing though. Never wrong. I’m not very good compared to her.”
“Sorry, but I still say magic. You’re really talented.”
“N-not really.” Tara repeated, dodging the subject by pointing to Riley coming back with supplies.
“You coming?” Tara turned to Willow.
“Me!? Oh, no, I don’t do horsies, me. Nope, they don’t like me one bit… Had my arm half half-eaten by this really vicious pony when I was five and horses are just to big and have to many teeth and feet, and oh, did I mention that one tried to eat me?”
“I’m sorry, but I kind of really need your help? I promise to make sure you’re safe?”
“You promise?”
Tara nodded.
“Ok. I trust you.”
Willow followed her very gingerly, her heart pounding like a jackhammer. But she couldn’t say no to Tara…
The blonde made Willow hold the horse’s head while she talked soothingly to it and pulled out her pen knife. Old Butler was very good about it on the whole, Willow thought. He flinched a little when Tara cut what turned out to be a small shard of glass out of his shoulder, but he seemed to share Willow’s trust in the other woman, since he still remained patiently standing still. When the wound was cleaned out and bandaged, Willow even patted him a little awkwardly. When Tara said goodbye to the horse, he affectionately rubbed his head against her side, making soft sounds in response to Tara’s mumbling conversation with him.
Her relief when it was over was immense. She gave herself a mental thumbs up for bravery.
Tara was very uneasy when Riley gave her money, but accepted it, since he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Would you like to come back and have some dinner with me?” Willow held her breath, waiting for the answer.
“I’d love to. Thank you”
The redhead walked back to the diner childishly elated, babbling about everything and nothing, aiming to make Tara smile as much as possible.
When they reached the diner, Willow held the diner door open and let Tara pass her. Closely. When she passed an inch from her nose, Willow’s senses were flooded with the scent of horse, hay, peaches and something much more disturbing. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes.
When she opened them, Tara smiled a crooked little smile that made Willow not quite sure what to do with her self.
“Hungry?”
“A little.” Tara tried to sound casual.
“Idiot”, Willow thought to herself.
“She’s been working all day, of course she’s hungry…”
Willow sent a grateful thought to Gunn for being such an excellent cook while she piled up his famous spare ribs with Joyce’s black-eyed bean stew and ear of corn from their kitchen garden. When she came out from behind the counter carrying their full plates, she noticed how Tara’s eyes darted involuntarily and hungrily to the plate. Willow put the sizeable portion in front of her with a pleased smile.
They didn’t talk so much during dinner. Tara was obviously famished and Willow found she enjoyed the companionable silence. It also gave her the opportunity to observe the blond girl more closely.
“Thank you” Tara said sincerely and pushed her clean plate away.
“You’re welcome.” Willow answered with equal sincerity. She got up to go and make them some coffee.
“Would you like a mocha?”
“P-pardon me?” Tara’s looked at her with a politely confused frown.
“Coffee and chocolate. Kind of my specialty”
“You have chocolate? I haven’t had that in a long time...” Tara looked at her with wonder.
Willow nodded proudly.
“Yup. This place sort of has a stash.”
“Thank, you, I’d love some.”
When Tara tasted the steaming goodness, covered with an off-white hillock of whipped cream from Riley Finn’s cows, she closed her eyes and let a throaty sigh of pleasure escape her lips.
Willow felt some sort of unfamiliar tightness form in her body looking at the enraptured face. She wasn’t sure what was happening to her. She had been feeling so… physical lately.
“That sure is good coffee…”
Willow didn’t think to answer. She felt almost mesmerized by a droplet of perspiration that was making its way down Tara’s long neck and along the valley between her breasts. The blonde had opened the top two buttons of her shirt to combat the heat, which made her soft, rounded bosom partially exposed to whoever was sitting in such close proximity as Willow. The sight made her feel… disturbed. She had seen Buffy, Anya and even that horrid Faith Lehane half naked and it hadn’t given her this distressing feeling of urgency, like she needed… Well, something. She wanted to act on an impulse she didn’t quite recognize.
“Willow? Is something wrong?”
Tara shot a glance down to where Willow’s eyes were resting with a puzzled expression on her face. Being caught staring made the red head snap her head up, embarrassment shooting through her like an arrow.
“We’re out of pie!”
“Come again?” Tara looked even more confused.
“We’re out of pie. Otherwise we could have had, you know, pie. For dessert. Pie’s nice, don’t you think. Joyce makes really nice pie. Yummy.”
Willow heard her own nonsensical babbling and willed herself to stop.
“I like the way you talk.” Tara smiled at her. Willow breathed out in relief that the blonde hadn’t mentioned her staring.
“I sound like a babbling idiot, you mean.” Willow returned Tara’s smile with a self-deprecating one.
“N-no. Just interesting...”
“Thanks, I think…” Willow smile widened and their eyes met. Tara was the first to look away, dipping her head and hiding her face behind her hair in what Willow began to realize was trademark fashion.
“Oh, I’ve got something for you!”
Willow walked away and came back with an expensive hand lotion out that she had taken from her mother’s dressing table. She held her breath, hoping that Tara wouldn’t misunderstand her like this morning.
“For your hands.”
She put it on the table and waited for a reaction.
“Thank you.”
Tara’s tone of voice didn’t reveal anything but politeness, so Willow let out a little sigh of relief.
“Hmmm… Sticky”
Tara smiled apologetically as she tried not to get the unusually rich lotion on everything.
“Want some help with that?” Willow said hopefully.
Tara nodded, giving Willow a look that the redhead didn’t know the meaning of.
Willow sat down next to her and cradled her lotion-covered hands in her own. Very slowly, she began to work the rich moisturizer into Tara’s thirsty hands. Her own hands felt really funny, like Tara’s touch was electric, energy flowing between the two them. She looked down on their joined hands. When she lifted her head, Tara looked deeply into her eyes. Her facial expression was inscrutable, but there was no mistaking the intensity behind the sapphire. Willow poured more lotion, wanting to prolong the moment. Needing to prolong it. When Tara’s hands wouldn’t assimilate any more, she slowly moved upward, under the pretense of having to use up the excess skin cream. The skin on Tara’s wrists was still impossibly soft despite her laboring. Willow’s hands roamed gently but firmly up Tara’s arms, turning touch to caress. She avoided looking at Tara’s face for a while. When she finally looked up, Tara had leant forward a little; their faces suddenly close. Willow’s eyes stumbled on the blonde’s full lips, slightly parted, letting a hint of sweet smelling breath flow over the red head’s face.
Willow though hazily that she ought to stop staring and say something, when the blonde jumped to her feet and swore under her breath, staring at the wall clock with a full panic face on.
“Pa’s gonna kill me! I should have been back hours ago. I’ve got to run!”
Willow was still trying to comprehend the sudden and unexpected loss of physical contact when Tara rushed out of the diner. The red head came to her senses a moment later and ran after her.
“TARA!”
The blonde slowed down and stopped.
“Can I see you again?”
The blonde nodded her head vigorously.
“Tomorrow? By Witches lake? At eight?”
Willow nodded and waved goodbye as the blonde took off again. As she was walking back to the diner, smiling, she turned in surprise as she heard the sound of Tara’s heavy work boots increase in volume again. The blonde put her hands on her shoulders and placed a feather light kiss on her cheek.
“Thank you.”
Then she was gone again.
TBC. Next chapter will have have Smut.
I really, really like the mix of attraction, hesitation, and just plain confusion going on there. I'm really looking forward to more - worrying about Tara's family, and looking forward to seeing her and Willow stay together, of course 
yes, i should.
You get the pink elephant because I love it! Looking forward to more from you!
Wow! Funny... if only the Bible did have parts like that 
I liked the bonds of family and friendship that were shown, the way not just Willow but everyone at the diner rallied around when Tara needed them, and saw off her odious 'family'.
