ok so this is probably illegal or something (cant remember the rules here anymore since it's been forever!) but i feel so horrible about my crazy life and lack of updates that i thought i'd be sweet and give you a fixin' of my next fic as a lil present for your patience. I hope to get around it someday, soon. sigh...
but honestly it's been a crazy couple of months and finally things are starting to get better. job, gf, moving situation figured out. it's all good. not to get into a huge explanation but half of my stuff is in another state (moving situation part of my crazyness) and so half of my comupter is in the east coast and the other half still here in the west (I've got my mums laptop which just happened to have this old story on it). Actually half of my apt is in the east coast. a week before moving, having packed most my apt up, i got a call about a job here and i went to interview. by the time i got hired i'd already sent stuff to the east. but i got the job and so i'm learning and trainning and just happy to get a paycheck again. but, as the gods love playing with us mortals, not only was i trying to pack and look for a job in both coasts, my family decided to come visit for like a month. to top that crazyness off i started seeing someone too.
so that is the last few months of my life: short version.
again, thanks for all your comments and for reading! hugs!
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Title: ?
Summary- AU. Sunnydale, 1850. What else is there to say?
Disclaimers- I don’t own the girls cause if I did they’d be hanging out with miss kitty gazing up at the stars having a midnight picnic on the roof.
Feedback: welcome
Distribution- Not yet. Want to finish it first. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA… sorry I got carried away there for a second.
Notes- I’m not a historian but I did research for two months while writing two other fics and working like a mule. Tried to be as authentic as possible, as authentic as I could be in an AU fic anyway.
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Valle del Sol- Tuesday, October 22nd, 1850
Willow ran as fast as her slim legs would carry her. Inwardly she wished she wasn’t wearing so many layers of clothing. Layers that included her cotton camisole, white ankle bloomers, a long red and gold dress with closely fitted sleeves and, of course, her ever present apron. Her skirt was currently raised up in a bunch near her thighs as she ran over towards Kingman’s Bluff, mud and dirt affixing to her leather boots.
The more she perspired the louder she groaned. She didn’t need all this fancy get up city women used, all those multiple layers and all. She was a pioneer. She worked the land, hunted wild game, rounded up cattle and sheep… Well, she personally didn’t do any of those tasks and her California town of Valle del Sol wasn’t quite like the uncivilized and infamous Wild, Wild West. No, Sunnydale, as her hometown was so commonly referred to by the English speaking settlers, was a rural, seaside community surrounded by hills and valleys and the ever present Pacific Ocean.
She chuckled quietly knowing that if her father were to catch her running like this she’d get another lecture about the need to be a proper lady at all times. Nevertheless she didn’t care about that right now. Her father was still north in San Francisco and new wagons were heading their way. It had been two weeks since the last caravan passed through Sunnydale on their way south to Los Angeles and Willow had since spent most of her days awaiting news on the next batch of travelers.
“Buffy!” She yelled announcing her presence as soon as the long, golden hair of her best friend came into view.
It was a pristine day, cloudless and dry. And, per usual for late October, the temperature was cool and breezy; especially the higher Willow ran up the large hill located in the outskirts of town. The sun’s bright glare made Willow realize that somewhere in all the hustle her sunbonnet had fallen off. She didn’t believe her hasty outward bound would produce any more of those unfashionable freckles but it wasn’t like the bonnet would help much anyhow. She was a natural redhead after all and freckles unfortunately came with the package. ‘Oh well’, she thought about her missing hat, she’d just have to search for it later.
Buffy Summers shouted back an exasperated, “Willow!,” as she turned around towards her friend. Rifle in hand and frowning at the intrusion she couldn’t help but express dejectedly, “Just missed me a rabbit because of you.”
Buffy was a different kind of girl, a rugged individualist not usual for these parts in more ways than one. Not only was she the best gunslinger in town and could drink any of the men under the table, but she also wore trousers much to the outcry of both the male and female town citizens. Interestingly enough the only woman in the region to support her odd choice of style was Willow’s own mother, Sheila Rosenberg. Mrs. Rosenberg was a burgeoning womans rights activist currently in Massachusetts for the first ever convention on the topic. She’d always say skirts were of no use when in the wild and Buffy was certainly wild.
“A… cara… van’s… a… coming.” the redhead yelled in between gulps of air, the rush and altitude having taken a toll on her. She was all smiles by the time she finally reached Buffy though. Some of the pins that fixed her long, red hair in a bun had fallen off during the run and a few tendrils escaped, bordering her pale, freckled face.
The blonde’s annoyed stance slumped once she registered her mirth. “And how do you know this?” she asked, a small smile escaping. If there were a town crier Willow would be it. She knew all the gossip for miles and never hesitated to share it with her.
“They sent… a scout… ahead.” She replied, still a bit breathless as she pulled back some of the lose locks of hair behind her ears. “He’s with Sheriff… Wilkins right now… said the caravan’s but two miles… back. I came running all the way to tell you.”
“Was he on a white horse?” Buffy teased as she twirled the gun over her shoulder ready to follow her friend back into town.
“No. It was brown.” She dryly replied, her inhalation beginning to come in regularly now.
Willow disliked it when Buffy teased her about the fairy tales she loved to read by candlelight. Buffy couldn’t help it though. It seemed to her Willow lived in a fantasy world full of princesses, true love and happy endings. She certainly understood why any world was better than the primitive environment they presently lived in. She knew there was enough evil around them to wish she still had that sense of illusion. For now Willow carried that childlike fantasy for the both of them.
“Come on!” Willow pulled Buffy towards her, her smile broadening as she thought of the newcomers. “Ooh, I hope they’ve brought books!”
Buffy laughed loudly as she followed. It still tickled her that of all the supplies and provision caravans sold and traded books were Willow’s first concern. Always.
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Trailing the two nineteen year olds down the curves and slopes that layered out before Sunnydale were various deserted sheds and water wells that belonged to forgotten cattle farms from years back. To their left, a few miles further west, the sandy beach and town wharf welcomed ships and merchants from all over the California coast. Sunnydale had the advantage of being the midway point between San Francisco and Los Angeles, two large bustling cities that brought around a lot of travelers throughout the year. Or at least it used to.
As they neared the arched entrance to the decaying adobe wall that encircled Sunnydale for protection, their sprint turned into brisk steps allowing them time to press their clothes and jostle dirt off. The town’s official business center consisted of one long, wide road, Main Street, and three narrower cross streets. At the end of each of these compressed lanes were several recently constructed brick and cement buildings that surrounded a traditionally Spanish style town square. The six plazas were quickly becoming the main residential areas of the township and rapidly overshadowing the smaller wooden and mud-caked structures of old Main Street.
Hoping they hadn’t missed the scout’s departure, Willow and Buffy hastily headed over to Willie’s Saloon which just happened to face the town’s two roomed City Hall. For many years that same building had housed a bar in the south room while the north room had a busy restaurant and poolroom. The saloon and restaurant were moved next door once Sunnydale became a jurisdiction and needed a place for judicial procedures. But every once in a while a drunk would confuse the two and end up in the slammer for disorderly conduct after realizing their mistake.
Near the City Hall, still tied up on the railing by a large water bin, was the brown horse Willow recognized as the newcomer’s steed. “He’s still here.”
Being high noon the street was pretty deserted. Everyone was either working in the surrounding ranches or inside a bar nursing a drink. And gambling. No one could forget the gambling. The only other present competition the two young women had was the pack of seven gray burro’s that always gathered near the wooden sidewalk of Willie’s Saloon hoping some good patron would give them a cup of booze. How they got hooked on liquor was anyone’s guess.
“You think we’re being obvious, standing here and all?” Buffy asked.
Willow looked over at her best friend with not only a rifle over her shoulder and wearing trousers, but a large cowboy hat with an Indian feather and an orange and brown shirt. “No, not at all.” She deadpanned.
Buffy was about to retort when she saw Sheriff Wilkins head out of the Hall with the scout in tow. The young man was tall, probably the tallest man Buffy had ever seen. And then, came the bright, white smile that made his cheeks dimple and his blue eyes sparkle. His sandy blond hair was half hidden underneath his hat and the cowboy apparel he wore displayed his muscular attributes. Buffy was smitten with him from the get go. “That’s the scout?” she asked a bit thunderstruck.
Willow smirked, happy a bit of the old Buffy seemed to be alive again. It had been almost two years since the mysterious disappearance of her fiancé after an overnight hunting party and Buffy had been crushed by it. It still haunted the young woman until this very day and it was very rare the times Buffy would utter her former beau’s name.
Before the redhead could reply, Sheriff Wilkins firmly shook the young man’s hand and spoke in his usual friendly manner, “Well, I do hope you and yours enjoy your stay in Sunnydale, Mr. Finn. Sure wish we could accommodate you more but as you can see we’re virtually a ghost town right now and don’t have enough supplies for even 2 wagons. We should be getting more supplies with the next scheduled caravan a week from Saturday. The good Lord permitting.”
Mr. Finn nodded his head. “No need to worry about that, Sheriff. We’ll set up camp just over the hill. We’re pretty pleased the grass is still green in the valley and there’s plenty of springs to go around for our cattle.”
“Yes, well, just be sure to stay west of the old water towers at the foot of the mountains. There are miles and miles of tunnels and caves in that area leading who knows where. If you know what I mean.”
Riley understood what he was talking about. “Yes, sir. We’ve already lost quite a few livestock on the way over.”
“Ah, truth be told the journey from the City of Los Angeles can be quite laborious. But what is heaven if you mustn’t fight to reach it? This here Sunnydale is heaven on earth for me. No other place would I rather be.” The sheriff chuckled, “Well, look at that. I rhymed.”
“You sure did, sir.” The newcomer smiled once more. He seemed itching to head back to the wagons and turned towards his horse only to look back at the Sheriff once the older man continued talking.
“I did mention the banquet tomorrow night did I not, Mr. Finn? You all must come and join in the festivities. It’s rare to get good news lately. There will be plenty of food and ways for you all to be entertained.”
‘Entertainment such as gambling and drinking?’ thought the scout though he did not voice his contempt. He figured he was just being foolish, this wasn’t a mining community like the ones they’d passed though before. These folk here were civilized. Sunnydale looked like a proper place all right. So far he’d only seen just that one Willie’s Saloon over there and that-
His thoughts shifted as he noticed two young women standing on the shaded boardwalk of said alehouse. They disastrously tried to be hide behind the thin beam that supported the scanty roof and were making a spectacle of themselves. It’d been better if they had simply stood still.
“Thank you very much, sir. I will let the travelers know about your hospitality.” He smiled again. The small redhead looked all right to him but… Was that blonde one wearing trousers? Thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him he quickly turned back to the Sheriff, “By the way, we do have some minor injuries, have you a doctor in town?”
Wilkins’ toned shifted, “We don’t currently have a people doctor.” He said, disappointed. “He too headed up north. However, we do have a veterinarian who may be of service. A cut is a cut isn’t it? He’s Mr. Brooks, housed in the stables over by James’ Tailor Shop one block down that way.” He pointed with his finger past a church.
It was safe to say that Riley Finn had not paid attention to anything Wilkins was saying. He was trying to get a better look at the blonde with the pants who also, it seemed, was trying to get a better look at him even though she was trying to conceal herself behind her confused, redheaded friend. “Thank you.” He said a bit loudly trying to get back into the conversation he’d dazed out of.
Willow tried shuffling herself out of Buffy’s unusually strong grip. “Buff, he saw you looking at him, seeing him, seeing... you.” She rolled her eyes knowing she made no sense.
Sheriff Wilkins spoke again, “Now that I think about it, we do have an English gentleman may be able to help you out. Mr. Giles is his name and runs the town’s bank down yonder.” He gestured with his chin down the row of wooden buildings. “I hear he’s got battle training and some medical skills. If you need any medical texts he would be able to help with that since he runs the town book and print shop as well. As for supplies you can find whatever you want at Rosenberg’s Emporium right next door to his. Your one stop shop for all your purchasing needs.”
Willow’s ears perked up once she heard the Sheriff speak of her father’s store. The same store she had closed on a whim to go get Buffy and was supposed to be minding at this very moment. She was certainly not supposed to be trying to eavesdrop on a private conversation. Well, it wasn’t really private, was it? “They’re talking out in the middle of the great wide open. How private it that?” she wondered aloud.
“What, Will?” Buffy questioned as she attempted another sneak peek at the handsome scout.
Without consciously realizing it, Willow’s eyes wandered towards a distant figure heading it’s way into town. “I-” Her musings, fixed on the new rider, left no thought process to answer her friend. Willow squinted her eyes to get a better look. The suns glare shimmered the figure making it look as if there were a golden halo surrounding them. The stranger was gaining ground quickly and Willow and Buffy were stunned to see that it was a woman rider once she crossed the mud wall gates.
“Is that a squaw?” Willow asked.
“No.” Buffy answered, having noticed with her overly developed sense of sight that this woman was white. Her long, blonde braid curled over her shoulder gave her race away. Plus, there was no way an Indian woman would ride alone. Then again it was dangerous and unheard of even for white women.
She wore a tight brown bodice and full skirt with loose fringes that miraculously did not move as she rode. The closer she got to the Sheriff and scout, the curioser the girls got. Both gasped once they saw the woman had been riding the horse without a saddle, bareback, just like only Indians rode.
Once her white horse came to a stop near the two conversing men, the mysterious stranger smiled shyly at the scout. “Riley, seven cattle are counted missing and Tater’s wagon gone an’ overturned again.”
Riley sighed despondently at the news, “Aw, Tara, not again.” He reached over to free his horse, “We need to get that wheel fixed. Pronto.”
“I know.” The young woman said as she effortlessly jumped off her horse and let him drink from the water bin Riley’s own horse had been utilizing. Her voice was sweet with a bit of an accent that was hard to place. “I’ll meet you once my big boy here is rested.” She lovingly patted her horse.
Riley nodded his head at the sheriff in goodbye, “Please excuse me, Sheriff Wilkins. Seems I’m needed back on the trail. Thank you again. See you tomorrow.”
“Yes. Certainly. Be well.” His eyes quickly turned from the retreating scout to the newcomer. “Well, hello there. I’m Sheriff Wilkins.” He said. “Miss-“
The young woman tilted her head hello as she tied her horses’ reigns to the wooden post. She nervously smiled at the lawman and proclaimed, “Clay. Mrs. Clay, sir.” She even did a little curtsey for him all the while wishing his attention would turn elsewhere.
A bit taken by the fact she was riding alone around these parts, especially dressed like that, he wondered her husband’s whereabouts. “Welcome to Sunnydale, Mrs. Clay.” He said, his eyes scanning her peculiar attire carefully. Her hair braid was perfect and the skirt was embroidered with various beaded floral designs much like the natives sowed. Even the beaded leather moccasins were curious for a white woman.
“Thank you so much.” Her speech was at a near whisper as she looked to the ground and then back up to the sheriff.
“She’s white.” Buffy murmured to the redhead. “Her eyes are blue.” She would have thought her for an Indian as well if it hadn’t been for her striking eyes and golden brown hair. Just because she personally couldn’t see the color of the strangers eyes form so far away, Willow knew better than to question Buffy’s comment. She knew Buffy’s senses were bizarrely advanced.
“I must say you look quite interesting for a woman like yourself.” Sheriff Wilkins gazed at her outfit once more. “You better be careful around these parts though, some drunk with a gun may mistake you for a red beastie.” He joked, not noticing that he was the only one laughing. “We have a good dressmaker. Mrs. Piper. She carries the finest fabrics from San Francisco. Silk from China even.”
“Thanks for the tip, Sheriff.” She smiled softly at the obvious insult. Tara loathed strange, new towns. She was always afraid of the foreign and unfamiliar but, in truth, she should have been used to it by now. It felt like they had been on the trail forever and this wasn’t the first time she’d come across such prejudice.
“My pleasure.” He smiled and continued to talk to the visitor.
Buffy wrinkled her brows. “Why is she dressed like that? It’s so unusual.”
“Like you’re dressed so traditionally.” Willow responded.
Gazing down Main Street as the Sheriff continued speaking, the newcomer inwardly sighed as she pulled a handkerchief from her skirts’ belt. She lightly tapped her damp forehead with it. The hot noon sun was blazing down on her and she wasn’t wearing a hat. She realized she’d accidentally left it in Sally’s wagon.
Tara found it queer there was hardly any human presence in the street and very few stagecoaches and horses littered the area. Los Angeles felt fifty times the size of this two horsed town. She noticed the couple of burros across the way and inwardly chuckled, ‘Seven donkey town’. As she patted her skirt straight she felt herself being watched and looked up to discover the viewer.
As soon as their eyes connected, blue upon green, Willow let out a small “Eep!” and blushed furiously.
The second thing Tara noticed about this girl was that she was a redhead and couldn’t believe it. Redheads were rare, like those thunderstorms in the desert that came along once in a blue moon. She then registered the blonde in trousers standing besides her whose inquiring gaze controlled a bit of a frown. Even from so far away Tara sensed her suspicion.
Sheriff Wilkins followed Tara’s line of sight and with a displeased sigh simply voiced, “Ah, Miss Summers,” as soon as he saw the two Sunnydale residents by Willie’s Saloon.
“Excuse me?”
“The trouser wearing troublemaker. Packs quite a punch I tell you. Lightning with a gun too. I’d suggest you stay away from her. She aint nothing but trouble that girl. Don’t know why such a sweetheart like Miss Rosenberg hangs out with her sort. Nothing but trouble.”
Before Tara could reply he checked his pocket watch for the time. “Oh, must excuse myself. I’ve some business inside to take care of. We’ve got plenty of vacant hotels and good restaurants here. Bars too of course. You don’t seem the drinking or gambling type though.” He said with a laugh. He then courteously tipped his hat to her. “If you or the caravan needs anything do not hesitate to ask. We’re a friendly lot here.”
“Thank you.” She replied, her mind still running over the last name he had just mentioned. Rosenberg? Was that the redhead?
After Sheriff Wilkins headed back to the City Hall, Tara sighed and looked over at her horse. Blanco was currently holding a stare fest with the burros and snorting every few seconds, probably itching to get out for another run. It had taken Tara almost a whole year to tame the wild horse but he still had his restless moments in him. Just like his owner.
She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her as they scanned the pale face and loose red locks bordering the beauty across from her. Although nervous, she thought of a friendly way to approach the two girls. She was never one to shy away from speaking to women strangers but something just tingled her belly when she felt the redheaded girl’s shy eyes upon her once more. And if this really was a Rosenberg, then the first part of her quest was over. She began to gingerly walk over to them while hatching up an excuse to talk.
Willow’s heart had begun to race as the attractive woman neared them. She noticed the structure of the newcomer’s her face was similar to one of those beautiful maidens Willow had seen in her father’s art books. ‘Like a Greek goddess’ she thought. A little darker in skin color, obviously tanned from the sun, but gorgeous nonetheless. She recognized the detailed strings of beads that had been added to the fringes of her skirt as native and how they jingled together as she neared. It was such a sweet sound. Registering the quirky half smile and shy glances the blue eyed woman was giving her, Willow’s heart began to race. She could tell the woman was apprehensive as well, nervous and blushing from the attention she was attracting to herself with this walk across the road. Or maybe it was the heat. It could very well possibly be the heat.
The burro’s had since wandered off down the street to another watering hole and Tara could hear the sound of clinking glass and muffled conversations originating form the saloon in front of her. Her eyes connected once more with Willow’s and she timidly lowered her gaze. Some of her bangs fell in front of her bright blue eyes and shadowed the redhead’s view of her profile. “H-hello.” She voiced.
The unusual woman’s eyes were as bluish as the azure sky above, deep and endless they seemed. Willow’s cheeks reddened even more at hearing the strangers slight stutter.
“Hi.” Buffy said, eyeing the newcomer. “Nice horse.” It was an unwritten rule in the West whites never rode white horses. But here was this white girl, girl- not woman, she could not have been much older than Willow or herself she believed, riding into a strange, new town dressed with hints of Indian fashions and a white horse. Perhaps she was a half breed afterall.
Tara smiled warmly at a thought even though she understood what this woman the Sheriff called Miss Summers was insinuating, “H-he was a gift.”
Buffy noticed Willow was oddly speechless and trickles of sweat were beading down her temple. “You ok there, Will?” she asked affectionately wiping the liquid off freckled forehead with her fingers.
Willow was a bit startled by both the soft touch and the reasons behind her sweat fest. She was even feeling a bit woozy. “Oh. Yes. Sorry. It’s hot. That run knocked the wind out of me.”
“I’m going to get you some drinking water. Excuse me, “ she nodded to the visitor and headed into Willie’s to fetch a glass water.
“Hey, Willie!”, Tara heard the blonde yell once inside the bustling bar. She heard a couple of moans and groans originated from the saloon and couldn’t help but smile faintly at the though of a girl going into such a place. But, then again, it’s not like she’d never been inside rough, public houses before.
Turning her gaze back to the redhead she quickly held out her embroidered handkerchief, “Here.” She offered.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” Willow shyly declined.
“I have others.” Tara tried willing her with her eyes.
Willow consented and smiled as she took the linen. “Thank you very much.” Embroidered with a medley of pastel colored flowers and the letters TM monogrammed on one of the scalloped edges, Willow held the hankie to her brows and then pressed just above her lips. She resisted the urge to close her eyes as she inhaled the pleasant earthly scents of lilacs and pine the fabric held. “Thank you kindly, Miss- um-”
Tara smiled. “Tara. Tara Maclay.” Her eyes instantly widened as she realized her mistake. In the three years she’d been traveling this was the first time she’d dangerously slipped up and told someone her real name. She was scrambling a way to remedy her mistake when she heard the redhead whisper her name in a somewhat reverent fashion.
“Tara…” Willow smiled as she stared at the hankie once again, not noticing the fleeting look of panic cross Tara’s features just a second earlier.
The newcomer’s nerves calmed as soon as she saw the way the girl was softly fingering the letters of the handkerchief. And, the way the girl whispered her name, the way the girl was softly sighing as if…
Willow looked up at the stranger, blushing a bit, “Well, thanks again. It is a beautiful handkerchief.”
“You’re very welcome…” Her eyebrows rose in question. “Miss…”
Willow was shocked by her own lack of manners. “Willow. I’m so sorry. I’m Willow.”
What an interesting name for a girl. Was she really a Rosenberg? Could it be this simple? “Miss Willow...”
“Oh, just Willow. No need for Miss or anything else.” When it came to outsiders, no matter how harmless and foreign they themselves looked, Willow was wary of letting people know she was Jewish. With a name like Rosenberg indicating the largest store in town and a big honking menorah perched on the windowsill every Hannukah it was a bit hard to keep a low profile in Sunnydale. They were lucky enough that with their population’s mixture of Mexican, Chinese, American and even British Sunnydale was quite friendly to all. Even to most of the Native tribes that lived in the outskirts of town.
Buffy returned and handed a glass of water to the redhead, “Here ya go, Will.”
Willow didn’t want to break the contact with those stunning sapphire eyes but had to out of courteousness, “Thanks, Buff.” She said, quickly downing the liquid in record time.
Tara took this opportunity to ask, “I’d hate to be a bother but could you please point out the best hotel in town?”
“If by best you mean safest then I’d suggest you stick with the caravan. This town is not an enjoyable place for a single woman like yourself. Especially at night.” Buffy warned. “Better to be safe than sorry.”
“Thank you for your concern but I’m not traveling alone.” Tara half smiled, wondering why this stranger was acting a bit too overprotective.
“Oh, well, then Sun Hotel halfway down the block is the best Sunnydale has to offer. It’s in between the two churches over there. It only has a restaurant in the lobby so no drunken bar brawls and such. It’s even got indoor flushing toilets.”
“How convenient.” Tara replied looking over to where Buffy had pointed. She quickly registered the large amount of churches littered on Main Street. Practically every other building was a church. ‘How odd’, she thought. It wasn’t unusual to see houses of worship in small towns like this but so far she’d counted five in the half block as her gaze turned back to the two women.
“Yeah, I reckon it is. You sure don’t want to be wandering out at night to the privy all by yourself in this town.” Buffy voiced.
“Have you bandits in the area?” Tara was a bit concerned with her continuous warnings but knew that was just the way settlers acted. Most of them were wary of Indian raids and such but Tara knew the native Chumash people of this region were quite peaceful. They had yet to have any trouble with the tribes during their trail north.
“In a matter of speaking, yes.”
Willow was getting tired of Buffy’s tone and watched her best friend cross her arms over her chest in a challenge. “What Buffy here is trying to say is…” she tried to explain, “We’ve got folk that like to drink. A lot. Especially at night. It can get quite rowdy and… unpleasant.”
Tara knew already she loved the sound of this stranger’s voice. “Thank you for the warning. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” She took a deep breath and nodded her head, “Well, then, Willow, Miss Summers, I do hope to see you again soon.” A small smile spread as her gaze turned back to the redhead. The sooner the better. With a last nod she turned around and headed over to the hotel Buffy had suggested.
Buffy looked over at her best friend, “How’d she know my name?”, she wondered suspiciously.
But Willow was lost in thought, simply inhaling the scent of the hankie as she processed that woman’s name over and over again.
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Camp FLutie TBC....... someday..... when i get the rest of my computer back.....
"Take care of my heart, won't you please? Take care of it because it's all that I have. And if you let me, I'll take care of your heart too." Pure sweetness in the look between Willow and Tara. <;br>;
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Rane,
I have missed this fic. I'm so happy that you are writing again. 
Thanks for this great update, I've always been a big fan of your writing. Glad to see you back. 
, I know how those things go. Still great to see the update. Poor Willow walking on egg shells there trying not to say what is on her mind. I loved the way she thinks being with Tara has been like a dream.. 
More soon to come. When? I haven’t a clue. And as for you when are we getting another adorable installment of miss kitty and her mommies?! 
I cant remember my own time line. My outline is all kaplooey and I don’t know how long they have left of camp. I need to count the days in the *novel* so far to not mess up the flow. Oh well. When I get a chance. 
I cant wait to see you and garfield this week! 
'd part one!!! Please update whenever you can, or any post is a good post!! thanks a bunch!! 
Glad to see you back Rane,and I am glad things are going so well with you. I see we have another interesting story here.
at: 10/10/03 8:10 pm
Awesome.
and see if it ties in to anything coming up plot wise in the fic. lol 
YOU THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 
) so my 1850's fic is also being updated at the same time. 
hope you all can follow along. even so, i'll be updating this fic until it's finished! woo HOO!!!! 
Beth.