abarda: I'm glad you liked it! I figured that Willow's distraction with the wheelchair would aid her in bottling everything up, so it was time for a blow out... Hope you like Hush - this is the one I'm most anxious about posting... so I hope it turns out good...
love_2003: Well, I'm glad you liked it... Thanks so much for sticking with me! I really hope you enjoy the next one - it's my personal favorite, but it's the one I'm the most nervous about...
Laragh: I'm glad you're enjoying it! I thought Tara blurting out that she's gay would be funny... and it gives Willow a little something to think about
Hope you like the new one!
JustSkipIt: Yay! I'm glad you're liking it! Thanks so much for reading!
This one is early because I've got friends coming today to spend the weekend so I won't be around the computer...
Chapter 5 of 15
Tara was walking quickly past the library on her way back to her dorm, in a hurry to get inside, out of the brisk mid-December air. The whole campus was tense, the students in the middle of finals. She had just finished her last test for the week, only one left and she’d be done for the semester. Not that she was going home for vacation, knowing that her father would never allow her to leave if he got her back in his grasp.
Willow was staying at Buffy’s house for the break, but both of them had finals for all of the next week. They’d offered her a place to stay with them, but Tara was hesitant to impose in the Slayer’s house for an entire two weeks, and over Christmas (and Hanukah, as Willow kept reminding them.)
She pulled up in surprise as she realized that the girl she’d just been thinking about, the girl she thought about a lot if she was honest with herself, was parked at the bottom of the stairs leading into the library.
It had been three weeks since Thanksgiving, and Buffy was reluctantly allowing Willow to push her chair around campus by herself for brief stints as long as she kept the walkie-talkie with her at all times, and promised to call if she needed anything.
“Who paints a wheelchair ramp?” Willow complained to herself, looking up in surprise as Tara laughed. “Hey!” Willow said, holding her arms open for a hug.
“Hi, Willow. Trying to get to the library?” Tara asked, giving her a smile as she pulled back from their hug.
Willow nodded, glaring at the impassable ramp. “Trying,” she agreed. “Stupid school painted the ramp. I’m thinking about just trying to hop it,” she said, laughing before Tara could shake her head.
“I don’t think so,” the blonde objected. “I know your leg isn’t that strong.”
“I think I could make it,” Willow said teasingly, eyeing the three short steps.
“Don’t make me call Buffy,” Tara threatened with a smile. “What do you need from the library?”
Willow shrugged. “I was just going to study. It’s a little cold to be studying outside, but I can’t stay in the room any more today or I might go nuts.”
“You’re welcome to come over to my room whenever you want, you know that,” Tara said. “It’s warm, and it’s not your room.”
Willow grinned, nodding. “That would be great. I would have just gone straight over, but I thought you would still be in your exam.”
Tara resumed walking back to her dorm, letting Willow push her chair along. She knew the redhead would ask if she needed any help.
“How was your final? You had American Lit this morning, right?” Willow asked.
Tara shrugged. “I think I did alright. There was only one essay, so that wasn’t too bad. You had Prob and Stats this morning, didn’t you? How was that?”
“Yeah, it was easy,” Willow said, winking playfully. “I’m good with numbers.”
Tara laughed, nodding. “Yeah, you are,” she agreed. “That is not one of my gifts.”
They reached Tara’s dorm and the blonde held the door open for Willow to steer her chair inside. Tara’s room was on the second floor, but the elevator in her building worked better than the one in Stevenson, so they walked in that direction. Willow’s long cast barely fit inside the doors, but they made it to the second story with no trouble.
Tara’s fairy lights were plugged in as soon as they came through the door, and Willow wheeled herself to Tara’s desk. She’d been over to the other witch’s room several times since Thanksgiving, the short distance between her dorm and Tara’s making the other room an ideal destination when she was practicing with her chair, trying to strengthen her arm.
“What are you studying for?” Tara asked as she took a seat on her bed, finding the book she’d been reading for fun on her bedside table.
“Professor Walsh’s Psych exam is Monday,” Willow answered, finding her notebook in the backpack that was hanging from the back of her chair. She put the book in her lap, her chair parked out of the way as much as was possible with her stiff leg.
“That one’s going to be tough?” Tara guessed, having heard horror stories about Professor Walsh from both Willow and Buffy.
Willow let out a deep breath, nodding. “It’s cumulative and all short answer, so it’s going to be fairly awful, yeah,” she agreed. “Buffy’s ‘studying’ with Riley,” Willow said cheerfully, putting up air quotes around the word.
Tara laughed, knowing how hard the redhead was rooting for Buffy and Riley to get past their flirting and shy glances. “If Professor Walsh is as tough as you both say, they probably are just studying,” Tara reminded her.
“Yeah, I know,” Willow complained. “It’s just stupid though. They so obviously like each other!”
Tara smiled across the room at her. “Well, sometimes people don’t want to risk losing someone they like. Settling for f-friendship is easier than potentially l-losing the person.” She blushed, realizing that she’d come dangerously close to the truth, though she hadn’t been talking about Buffy and Riley.
The intuitive redhead caught that, raising her eyebrows. “Ooh, it sounds like someone has a crush,” she said, lowering her book as Tara raised her own. “Do I know her?”
“N-no,” Tara denied. “T-that was hypothetical, a h-hypothetical someone,” she said, stuttering around Willow for the first time in at least a week, having grown gradually more comfortable around the witch and her friends.
Willow blinked, surprised to hear Tara’s voice shake. “Okay,” she agreed immediately. “Yeah, I must have just been making things up.”
Tara sighed, knowing that her face was still burning. “Willow…”
“Hey, it’s no big deal. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but sometimes I run my mouth,” she said quickly. “Don’t be shaky-girl around me again, okay?” Willow requested, fingers playing with the pages of her notebook.
Tara nodded, swallowing. “S-sorry.”
Willow shook her head. “No, Tara, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you nervous or anything.” She smiled supportively. “I mean, I want you to feel comfortable talking to me, if you want to talk.”
Tara returned her smile, feeling her blush fade slowly. “Thank you Willow, but I’m o-okay. N-nothing to talk about.” Her eyes locked on Willow’s for a long moment before she blinked and went back to her book.
Willow let her eyes linger a bit longer, surprised to feel relief wash over her. She studied Tara, letting herself think about that feeling. She’d been spending a lot of time with the other witch, and they had quickly become good friends, but the way she felt, the sudden sharp relief that Tara wasn’t interested in someone, seemed like an overreaction.
At the same time though, it felt perfectly normal. She was enjoying having Tara around, loving getting to know her, and spending time with her. She knew she should want Tara to have someone, want her to be happy, but the blonde did seem to be happy, coming out of her shell, sharing more, stuttering less. They practiced spells together, but that wasn’t the only reason they spent time together, the blonde witch coming over to watch movies, or study, or walk with Willow while the redhead practiced with her wheelchair and crutches.
Willow fought the urge to sigh, confused now, and she flipped her notes open to the correct section, forcing herself to concentrate on her studying. Buffy came by at sundown to walk Willow back to the dorm as she walked back from studying with Riley.
It wasn’t until she was back in her bed, the lights off and Buffy sleeping deeply in her own bed on the other side of the room, that she let herself think about her confused feelings about Tara. It wasn’t like her to be so possessive, but something inside her wanted Tara all to herself. Tara had been a good friend to her since the day they’d met, and their friendship meant a lot to her, but it didn’t give her the right to want it to mean as much or more to Tara.
Tara had every right to have as many friends as she wanted, have a girlfriend if she wanted. She didn’t owe Willow herself anything, could spend time with whoever she wanted, and definitely didn’t have to spend as much time as she did with her, but the thought of Tara finding someone else made her feel sort of sick to her stomach.
Willow groaned in the darkness, wanting to scream into her pillow, but was frustrated by her frozen leg making it tricky to roll onto her stomach. She couldn’t be feeling this way about a girl, couldn’t be wondering these things about a girl. She’d liked boys her whole life, Xander first, and then Oz.
Oz.
He’d been gone for almost two months now, and every day, unbelievably, it got a little easier, a little less painful, and Tara was a big part of that. How long had she wanted it to mean more than just friendship though?
Was that what she wanted? Had it been jealousy she’d felt when she’d thought that Tara had wanted someone?
She tried to think rationally, tried to organize her thoughts and her feelings, but the effort was beyond her, her mind just running around in circles, confused and scared, until she unwillingly surrendered to oblivion and let herself be dragged into the soothing comfort of sleep.
Her exams kept her busy enough to justify not giving herself time to deal with her confused thoughts and feelings. Spending time with Tara over the school break felt the way it always had before, the blonde’s uncanny ability to make Willow feel better about any situation just as applicable to her frenzied mental state.
She spent the break trying to convince herself that her strange bout of possessive feeling had been a reaction to knowing that Tara liked girls, the thought that Tara might find another girl to spend her time with. She knew that Tara was important to her, but she spent their time together over the break convincing herself that she was just dealing with Oz leaving by developing an overly strong attachment to Tara.
The winter holidays passed without incident and they returned to the campus two days into the new year. Not having any classes that day herself, Tara spent the whole of the first day back helping Willow practice with her crutches, walking endlessly in circles around the lounge with her, but never complaining once about the boring chore. The sweetness didn’t help Willow’s confused mind, and she was more than merely physically tired when she pulled herself into bed that night.
The next morning any lingering confusion and reluctance to deal with what was slowly becoming clear to her, that she was interested in Tara, was pushed to the back of her mind at the realization that neither she nor Buffy could speak. They figured out they hadn’t been struck deaf when they both heard the phone ring, but whoever was on the other end of the line appeared to be as mute as they were, and Buffy hung up the phone with a huff of frustration.
She helped Willow into her chair before ducking into the hall, not sure if it made it better or worse that they weren’t the only ones affected by the strange phenomenon.
Buffy mouthed her Watcher’s name at Willow, knowing that he was the only one who could possibly help them. She’d told him at their meeting the night before about her dream from falling asleep in class, the strange girl with the box, the creepy rhyme, and it seemed probable that it had something to do with what was happening now. His apartment was likely the only place they could get some answers.
Willow nodded her agreement, wheeling herself toward the closet and quickly throwing on a fresh shirt. Buffy took over pushing once they made it outside, walking them more quickly than Willow could have pushed herself. The streets were eerily quiet, people milling around in confused silence, no one paying attention to the two young women.
Giles answered as soon as they knocked on his door, hugging each of them in relief at seeing them safe. Xander and Anya were already there, as well as Spike, and Giles’ sometimes girlfriend, Olivia.
Buffy could see where Giles had been working at his desk, trying to solve the riddle she’d given him, but the traced and retraced question mark on his notepad told her that he hadn’t reached an answer.
They spent the day researching, the forced silence making them all jumpy and uncomfortable. Buffy and Willow walked back to the dorm with only about an hour of daylight left. Buffy geared up for patrol while Willow started reading through some of her own spell books, searching for anything that might help them regain their voices.
They both looked up from their respective tasks as there was a knock on the door. Buffy moved to the door, a long knife in her hand, but she turned her wrist so that it wouldn’t be visible to whoever was on the other side of the door. Buffy waved her free hand, signaling Willow to move back.
She yanked the door open quickly after the redhead pushed her chair back obligingly. Willow relaxed as she saw Buffy’s shoulders slump with relief and the Slayer moved out of the doorway to let their visitor in. She was relieved herself when Tara moved into the room, her arms full of books.
Their eyes met and Willow could see Tara’s own relief in her face. They were both mouthing the same question immediately, checking on each other. They nodded, smiling weakly to the other. Tara turned to look at Buffy as the Slayer tucked her knife into its sheath. Willow felt sudden gratitude to see Tara, her relief making her lightheaded, and she took a deep breath.
Buffy used her fingers to mime that she was going out, walking her fingers across the palm of her opposite hand. She pointed with one hand between the two of them, silently trying to ask the witches to stay together while she was gone, but she was rapidly growing frustrated with their forced muteness.
Tara seemed to understand what she was trying to get across, and the witch nodded reassuringly, glancing behind her for confirmation from Willow. The redhead nodded, smiling with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.
Buffy let out a breath of relief, nodding and sliding a stake up her sleeve. She pointedly locked the door behind her, leaving the witches secure inside the dorm room. Willow felt uncomfortable in a way she’d never been with Tara when they were alone, and she sighed.
Tara could tell that Willow was anxious and she stepped closer to the chair, crouching down in front of Willow’s good leg, and putting her books on the corner of Willow’s bed so that her hands were free to rest lightly on her friend’s knee.
Willow closed her eyes as she felt the rush of sensation that traveled between them every time they touched. She took a deep, steadying breath, feeling her equilibrium reestablish itself at the contact. Whatever was going on outside, she couldn’t deny that having Tara safe in the room with her made her feel better. Her eyes opened to find Tara’s worried gaze, and she smiled reassuringly. She mouthed her thanks, putting one hand over Tara’s on her knees, her fingers squeezing gently.
Tara smiled softly in return, using Willow’s knee to push herself to her feet, taking a seat on Willow’s bed and lifting the book from the top of her stack. She had spent her silent day researching spells to try and bring back their voices, as clueless as the Scoobies about what had caused the silence.
She showed one of the spells to Willow, leaning close to the redhead’s shoulder and putting the book in Willow’s lap. It required speaking, but Tara was hoping the creative redhead would be able to figure out a way around that, or at least that the spell would give Willow a place to start. Willow forced herself firmly to concentrate on reading the spell, doing her best to ignore her sudden
awareness of Tara’s presence, her body so close behind her.
She hadn’t been gay for nineteen years, but now that she was entertaining thoughts that she might have some interest in a woman, she couldn’t seem to help herself from
feeling every little thing. She sighed in frustration, hoping that Tara would accept it as an expression of anger at their situation and not look for an alternate explanation.
Her situation was helped slightly as Tara sat back on the bed, putting space between them. A glance assured her that Tara seemed oblivious to her distraction, the blonde already reading to herself. Willow let herself look at Tara for a moment, tracing her profile with her eyes before she forced herself back to work, shaking her confusion off temporarily.
They worked independently, occasionally handing books back and forth. After a while, Tara found something that seemed more likely than anything else she’d managed to find, and she put the book over the one Willow had in her lap. She leaned over Willow’s shoulder, pointing to the section of interest.
Willow scanned it quickly, seeing Tara’s idea immediately. It was a sort of healing spell that temporarily rejuvenated sick or injured body parts. Willow wasn’t sure it would work since they weren’t strictly sick, but it didn’t involve speaking to cast the spell, just concentration and burning a few specific herbs, so it was worth a try. They hadn’t found anything else that seem likely to work.
They exchanged looks and Willow shrugged, nodding. She frowned at her chair, swallowing as she put both hands on the armrests of her chair in preparation for lifting herself out. Tara put both hands over Willow’s quickly, shaking her head in concern. The spell called for them to be facing each other at an equal level, and Willow pointed at that portion of the spell, shrugging. Tara shook her head again, turning the chair so that Willow was facing her own bed, leaning over to adjust the support under Willow’s cast, lifting her bad leg just high enough to clear the edge of the mattress.
Willow was grateful for the unnatural silence making the squeak she let out noiseless, her eyes closing tightly as she caught the scent Tara’s soft perfume as she moved. Tara seemed oblivious as she found the components they would need familiarly in Willow’s supplies, lighting them as she went around to the other side of the bed and sat herself down, reaching forward for Willow’s hands.
Willow smiled sheepishly, almost embarrassed that she hadn’t thought of that herself, and Tara ran soothing fingers over the back of her hand, smiling softly. Willow fought back a sudden urge to kiss her, marveling at how quickly she seemed to be adapting to the idea of being interested in a woman. She met Tara’s eyes, suddenly blushing, grateful that she couldn’t start babbling and give herself away.
Tara could see Willow’s mind working through her eyes and she wondered what the redhead was thinking about so hard. Willow’s focus abruptly snapped back to the present, and she cocked her head questioningly, silently asking if Tara was ready. The blonde took a deep breath to gather her concentration, nodding.
They both let their eyes slide closed, their palms lightly touching. Each concentrated on the spell Tara had found, slowly combining their magic, feeling the same thrill that shot through them when they touched growing with every second of connection.
In the clock tower a small wooden box started vibrating, smoke curling from the crack between the lid and the box. A gray fleshed skeletal hand pushed the lid down before any of the wisps of smoke could dissipate, the Gentlemen giving each other grotesque looks of confusion as they continued gathering their tools.
The book they’d read said that the spell should come into effect relatively quickly so they let their magic withdraw after a few minutes, opening their eyes. They were both hesitant to try speaking though, feeling very close after the combined spell. Neither one moved to withdraw their hands from each other, instead Tara moved closer to Willow, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Willow was feeling another urge to kiss Tara, and she wondered if it was an effect of the spell, some lingering compulsion to be closer to each other since they’d been combining their magic only moments earlier. Whether it was the spell, or simply the fact that Tara looked breathtaking, the shape of her lips infinitely enticing and distracting, Willow felt her ability to restrain herself slipping away with every second. She’d been trying to rationalize her feelings away, but here, confronted with yet another potential life or death situation, she wondered why she was resisting.
Tara knew her desire to kiss Willow had nothing to do with the magic, knew that if she was being honest with herself, she’d wanted to kiss Willow for months. She’d been doing her best to fight those urges however, knowing that she couldn’t risk losing the redhead’s friendship by allowing herself to give into her desire to kiss the straight girl.
All of that restraint went out the window when Willow’s lips met hers. Tara’s eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away, kissing her back almost thoughtlessly as her eyes slid closed. One of Willow’s hands disengaged from Tara’s but only to touch her face, fingertips brushing lightly over what had to be, in Willow’s opinion, the softest skin she’d ever felt.
And who would have thought that kissing a girl would be so much different from kissing a guy? Oz had always been a good kisser, had always been able to make her swoon with his kisses, but kissing Tara was beyond incomparable.
Tara’s soft, full lips against hers, the soft skin under her hand, the blonde’s hand that was sliding into the back of her hair and pulling her ever so slightly closer, it was all perfect. Kissing a girl had never been something that she had known she’d wanted, but now that she’d felt Tara’s lips on hers, there was nothing she wanted more, nothing that could compare.
Willow pulled in a much needed breath through her nose, unwilling to put enough space between them to breathe, but let her bottom lip be sucked into Tara’s mouth, a soundless strangled groan tearing itself from her throat.
The doorknob twitched, clicking as Buffy’s key slid into the lock, and the pair jumped apart as if they’d been shocked. Tara wiped at her mouth as she spun to turn her back on the door, blushing brightly. Willow hurriedly picked up one of their abandoned books, depositing it quickly in her lap to make it appear that she’d been researching.
Buffy appeared none the worse for the wear from her patrol, but was still soundless and it occurred to the witches that they’d gotten so caught up in their kiss that they’d neglected to check if their spell had been a success. Willow felt the failure sharply, overwhelmed with a need to talk to Tara, to explain why she’d kissed her, to talk about what it meant, both for her and for them.
She glanced over her shoulder at the far side of the bed, but Tara hadn’t turned to face her, and Buffy gave her a confused look, looking pointedly between the pair. Willow shrugged guiltily and heaved a heavy sigh. Buffy retrieved a piece of paper from Willow’s printer at a gesture, returning with a pen.
Willow wrote quickly. - ‘We tried a spell to get our voices back, but it didn’t work.’
While Willow was scribbling out a message the Slayer locked the door to their room. Tara looked up as she heard the door lock again, but Buffy was reading Willow’s note, and Willow wasn’t looking at her.
Buffy took the pen and scribbled a response. - ‘You guys okay? You both look kind of out of breath.’
Willow blushed, glancing back at Tara before she wrote again. - ‘We’re okay. How was patrol? Find the baddie?’
Buffy didn’t write back, just shook her head. She mimed putting her head down, closing her eyes, and mouthed Giles’ name after she lifted her head again. Willow nodded her agreement, sighing.
Tara stood up from the bed, having been able to capture the gist of Willow and Buffy’s mimed conversation. She pointed to herself and then mimed walking, walking the fingers of one hand over the palm of the other.
Buffy shook her head firmly, pointing to each of them before pointing firmly at the floor, making it clear that none of them were leaving that room. Tara started to shake her head, but Buffy was scowling and the Slayer pointed from Willow to the redhead’s own bed, and then from Tara to her bed before indicating that she would be sleeping on the floor herself, in between the beds and the door.
Tara’s mouth was open to protest before she remembered that they couldn’t speak, but Buffy’s arms crossed over her chest, and she shook her head again seriously, expression making it clear that she wouldn’t listen to any arguments, silent or not.
Willow glanced shyly at Tara as the blonde witch relented, nodding finally. Their eyes met, breaking apart after a short second and Willow yawned uncontrollably, triggering silent giggles from her friends. She pushed her chair to her bed as Buffy rooted through the top of Willow’s closet, searching for the sleeping bag she was sure she’d seen up there.
She rolled it out, pushing Tara back gently as the witch indicated that she would take it, pointing the other girl firmly to her own bed. A quick trip to the dresser provided some pajama pants and t-shirt for Tara, and Buffy turned to help Willow into bed, a process that was increasingly performed solely by Willow herself, with Buffy merely overseeing the transfer from chair to bed. The distraction gave Tara time and privacy to change, and she sat on the edge of the bed to watch as Willow made herself as comfortable as possible, the redhead keeping her eyes firmly pointed down.
Tara sighed, letting herself drop back onto Buffy’s bed. The Slayer turned off the lights, the moonlight giving just enough light for Tara to see Willow across the room. She could see Willow’s head turn to look toward her, and she stiffened under the blankets but didn’t look away, letting their eyes meet. Willow started to mouth something, but let out a deep sigh of frustration, shaking her head against her pillow and closing her eyes, yanking her blankets over her head in annoyance at her inability to speak.
Willow wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, wanted to kiss Tara again, but couldn’t do any of those things, so she settled for swatting at the sheets, knowing that the thrashing would be obvious, but her frustration was making lying still impossible. When her head surfaced above the sheets again, she could see Tara’s sympathetic smile and Buffy’s concern, the Slayer sitting up and giving her friend a confused frown.
Willow waved, smiling weakly. She shook off Buffy’s concerned look, gesturing for the Slayer to lay back down. Buffy relented after a moment of hesitation, lying back slowly. Willow found Tara again in the dark, giving the blonde witch a shy smile, relieved to see it returned.
The next morning was spent attempting to find any piece of information that could help, the newspaper informing them of the heart stealing murders that had occurred while they’d slept. Buffy was frustrated by her supposed failure to save people she had had no way of knowing were in danger. She left Willow and Tara in the dorm while she went into town, determined not to let it happen again.
The witches spent a tense afternoon researching, the atmosphere between them different than it ever had been, charged and taut. Neither one knew what to do, how to deal with their kiss, so they spent the day avoiding each other inside the same room, backs straight and eyes locked on their books. Buffy came back to the dorm in the afternoon, having searched for clues at each crime scene from the night before, but unable to find anything helpful.
It was a only two hours before dusk when there was a knock at the door. The girls exchanged confused looks and Buffy found one of her knives on her desk where she’d discarded it the night before. She motioned both witches back, unlocking the door slowly with her knife ready but hidden.
She relaxed as she jerked open the door to find Giles, Xander, and Anya on the other side. She moved out of the way to let them into the room, relieved to see the papers and books under her Watcher’s arm. She gave him a questioning look, a relieved sigh huffing out when he nodded.
He mimed walking with his fingers, and Buffy nodded, turning to see that Willow and Tara were already moving to follow him. The witches were the last out the door, and Willow paused to lock up behind them, Tara lingering with her.
They stayed behind the others as Giles led them toward a classroom. Tara couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Willow, seeing the redhead doing the same. Only Buffy’s repeated glances back at them kept her from reaching over to brush her fingers through Willow’s hair.
Of course, she had no way of knowing if such a bold move would be accepted. She didn’t know why Willow had kissed her, had no way of asking her, and she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to know. It had been wonderful to kiss Willow, easily the best kiss of her life, but if asking about it would ruin her friendship with Willow, she’d never speak a word about it once they managed to get their voices back.
Giles poked his head into several deserted classrooms before finding one that suited him, his reasoning apparent as he plugged in the overhead projector. He waved for the others to take seats, the Scoobies situating themselves in the chairs with Willow parking her wheelchair at the end of the lowest row. Tara took the seat next to her without thinking about it.
Giles turned down the lights and started his macabre slide show. They all watched in silence, each letting out a sigh of frustration and fear as he reached the end of his animated explanation, taking a long look around the room at each other.
Buffy got up from her seat, crossing the room to the dry erase board, borrowing Giles’ marker. She wrote quickly, giving everyone their assignments. - ‘I’ll patrol. Giles, Xander, Anya, get back to the apartment and lock yourselves in. Willow, Tara, get back to the dorm and stay together.’
They nodded, exchanging looks. They trooped out of the abandoned classroom building, Giles and his group splitting off to head toward his apartment, while Buffy stayed with Willow and Tara until they got to Stevenson. She didn’t follow them inside, instead, watching them protectively until they got inside the building before she started her patrol for the Gentlemen.
Willow unlocked the door for them and Tara locked it back behind them. The unnatural silence stretched out between them and Tara lingered at the doorway, not facing Willow. Her eyes fell when Willow’s fingers touched hers, the contact almost hesitant.
She turned to face Willow slowly, the redhead still holding her hand. Their eyes met and Tara noticed that Willow’s free hand, her weaker right hand, was trembling in her lap. Tara frowned, concerned, and she crouched in front of Willow’s chair, giving her a questioning glance and lifting her free hand hesitantly toward Willow’s weak shoulder.
Willow realized what Tara was doing, willing to help her again, keep her from pain, even in the midst of everything else that was going on. She shook her head, catching Tara’s hand in her own shaky one.
Her hand wasn’t trembling from pain, but nervous anxiety, but there was no way to tell Tara that. So she settled for doing the thing that made her hand tremble to think about. The fact that Tara had come down to be on the same level as her chair made it all the easier to lean forward and press their lips together.
Tara was surprised, but not so surprised that she didn’t respond to the kiss, her fingers pulling Willow’s hand tighter into her own, their palms pressing flat against each other. Willow’s other hand slipped around the back of Tara’s neck, moving slowly through soft blonde hair, pulling her face closer.
Willow didn’t know what had gotten into her, her shy side apparently leaving the building. All she knew for sure was that kissing Tara felt like heaven, felt like nothing she’d ever felt before. She knew that she was still feeling Oz’s departure, still loved him, but Tara meant something to her, something she wasn’t sure she could think about, could deal with presently, but Tara was there, kissing her, and she let her brain shut down.
Tara had been hesitant, letting Willow set the pace, not sure what the redhead was thinking, but knowing that she would take what she could get and never say a word about it if Willow didn’t. She felt it the second Willow just gave in to the kiss, and she reciprocated, letting herself draw Willow’s bottom lip in between her own, hearing the redhead’s sharp intake of breath, but Willow didn’t shy away, just tightened her fingers in Tara’s hair, pulling her even closer.
They grew more comfortable, the kiss quickly feeling natural and familiar almost immediately. Tara felt Willow pressing closer, gently seeking entrance into her mouth. Tara hesitated for only a heartbeat, letting Willow in and deepening the kiss. This new territory was explored slowly and carefully, both moving closer, driven by a desire to be nearer to each other.
They didn’t notice as shadowy mist slipped between their lips. Neither one of them could be sure how long they had been kissing, how long they’d been wrapped up in each other, but after a while they slowly realized that the groans and whimpers that had previously been soundless weren’t any longer, and they jumped apart as the sounds penetrated their kiss-addled brains.
“Oh God,” Willow moaned, one hand covering her mouth.
Tara scrambled back, losing her balance on her heels and sitting hard on the floor. “Willow,” she gasped. “We c-can talk.”
“We probably should,” Willow agreed breathlessly, her voice muffled by her hand. “It looks like Buffy had some success with the Gentlemen.” She lowered her hand slowly, her eyes glancing nervously at the door. “She’ll be back soon, I guess.”
Tara followed her gaze toward the door, standing up shakily, using Buffy’s bed to stabilize herself. “I s-should g-go,” she stammered, not meeting Willow’s eyes as she saw the redhead look sharply at her.
“Tara, no, please don’t go,” Willow said immediately.
“Y-you should talk t-to Buffy, m-make sure she’s o-okay,” Tara said, glancing at the floor, the walls, the ceiling, anywhere but at Willow. “I’ll s-see you s-soon.”
She was moving toward the door before she let herself give into her desire to look at Willow, to kiss Willow again and stop the words she knew were coming. She pulled on the doorknob before remembering that the door was locked. She got it open before Willow’s brain could snap her into motion, the blonde gone before Willow could speak.
She realized the absence a second after the door shut behind Tara, and Willow quickly forced herself into action. She wasn’t so frantic that she was going to rush out unprepared, and she snatched up a stake from a drawer in Buffy’s desk, her walkie-talkie tucked, as always, in the pocket of her sweatshirt.
She scribbled a note for Buffy, knowing the Slayer would panic if she returned to the room to find her and Tara gone. That last task finished, she wheeled herself out the door, making sure it closed behind her. She covered the short distance between her dorm and Tara’s faster than she’d ever done it before, her arms burning from the strain by the time she reached the elevators. She waited impatiently for the car, pushing herself in and out again as soon as the doors opened on the second floor.
She only realized as she knocked on Tara’s door that she’d started sweating from her exertions, and that the tremble in her hands that had previously been Tara-related was now pain related, and she slumped in her chair as she tried to catch her breath.
“Tara, it’s me. Talk to me?” Willow asked through the door. “You don’t have to open the door, or see me if you don’t want to, but I need to explain, or apologize if you want, but either one will involve talking, hopefully by both of us, or just me if you don’t want to ever speak to me again.”
She hesitated for a second before speaking again. “And even if you don’t see me or speak to me, could I possibly trouble you for a glass of water? I’m not as strong as I used to be, and I might have outdone myself trying to get over here so fast,” she said, knowing that she was using Tara’s gentle heart to get her to open the door, but she was feeling pretty desperate, and she really
was thirsty.
Sure enough, the door opened a moment later, and Willow sighed in relief, trying a cautious smile. “I know it kind of, sort of looks like I tricked you into opening the door, but I really am thirsty, and I wanted to see you, explain about the kissing, because it’s not like I just kiss all kinds of random people, just you…”
Tara smiled crookedly even as her heart pounded in her chest, interrupting what she knew would be a long, rambling explanation. “C-come inside, Willow. W-we can t-talk.” She moved out of the doorway, suddenly worried about Willow. “A-are you hurt?” she asked softly.
Willow grimaced, but wheeled herself inside. “I’ll be okay. I could use that water though, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course n-not,” Tara answered, crossing the room to her fridge, kneeling to retrieve a bottle of water. Willow had stopped her chair inside the room, and Tara handed the bottle to her before closing the door behind the chair-bound witch. She returned to sit on the corner of her bed, a few feet of distance between herself and Willow in her chair.
Willow took several long swallows from the bottle, fiddling with the lid in her hand as she tried to think of what to say, something that would keep Tara from cutting her out of her life. Not that she had any right to expect anything else from her, she reminded herself sternly.
“So, um, talking,” she started, glancing up from where her fingers were messing with the bottle. “And I normally never shut up, you know,” she said, relieved to see Tara smile at her.
“Y-you know I l-like it when you b-babble,” Tara said, blushing in sudden shyness.
Willow smiled, feeling her heart beat suddenly faster. “Tara, what happened, when I kissed you, I…”
“It-it’s okay, Willow. You d-don’t have to e-explain. It d-doesn’t have to c-change anything,” Tara interjected, meeting her eyes. “I-I’m always g-going to be your f-friend.”
Willow’s eyes widened, her head shaking quickly. “Of course you are! Tara, of course you’re my friend! I know that friends don’t normally kiss each other like that though, and I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, or if you want some space, or even if you don’t want to see me again, I understand that, but I feel…when I’m around you…there’s something here! We’re connected, somehow. I mean, you know me, you know me so well, and I
really like you, but it turns out not in the same way that I really like Buffy, because I don’t lay awake at night wondering what it would be like to kiss her, and it was amazing by the way, and…” She blushed, feeling her cheeks burning.
“Y-you thought about k-kissing me?” Tara interrupted, ducking her head to send her hair over her face, matching Willow’s blush with her own.
Willow nodded, swallowing thickly. “Definitely,” she breathed.
“Oh,” Tara said softly, leaning forward but hesitating from moving closer.
“I know that you kissed me back, but I know that that doesn’t mean that you like me, or anything. I mean, you’re sweet, and funny, and
so pretty, and you could have any girl you want, so why would you want a crippled little geek like me?” Willow said, her eyes focusing on her own broken leg.
“Hey!” Tara said sharply, her voice firm. “You are [i[not[/i] a crippled little geek, Willow. You’re smart, and pretty, and funny, and so, so strong,” She reached forward with one hand, bringing Willow’s chin up to meet her eyes. “You k-know I don’t l-like it when you d-do that.” She sighed as her stutter returned, but she didn’t look away from Willow.
Willow gave her a soft, small smile. “I know, sorry,” she apologized. “I just don’t know if I’m saying the right thing, and I don’t even really know what the right thing is, but I know that I don’t want to lose you. You’re, you’ve become very important to me, very quickly, and you make it better, every single day you make it better, and I really don’t know what I would do if you weren’t around, and maybe I should have thought about this for two seconds before I just kissed you out of the blue and probably ruined everything…”
“You didn’t,” Tara interjected, barely loud enough for Willow to hear her.
“What?” Willow asked, the quiet words breaking through her frantic train of thought. “I didn’t? Really?”
Tara shook her head without speaking, just looking at Willow, her nervousness increasing with every second.
“I’m glad,” Willow said softly, extending a hand slowly to Tara.
Tara took it, squeezing gently. “Does your arm hurt?” she asked.
“No,” Willow said, looking confused before she realized why Tara was asking. “Oh, well, I mean, yeah, it does, but that’s not why I wanted to hold your hand,” she admitted.
Tara blushed, but left her hand in Willow’s. “Oh,” she said, smiling in a way that Willow found perfectly adorable.
“I know I don’t have any right to ask, but could I kiss you again?” Willow asked before she realized what she was doing.
“Willow…” Tara breathed her name, nodding before she said anything else, leaning in slowly with a smile on her lips.
The redhead returned the soft smile before their lips met. She was surprised when Tara initiated deepening the kiss, but she didn’t let the surprise stop her from letting Tara in, the blonde scooting to sit closer, her hand curling into short red hair.
They separated slowly, Tara pulling back just far enough so that she wasn’t teetering on the edge of her bed. “You okay?” Willow asked softly. “I mean, was that okay? Because I don’t want to…”
Tara giggled, interrupting her. “It was fine, Willow.”
“Fine?” Willow squeaked, her kissing abilities offended.
“Well, no, they were
so much better than fine, they were the best kisses I’ve ever had in my life,” Tara corrected herself quickly, blushing brightly.
Willow grinned, relieved. “Okay, good. I mean, it’s bad enough that I kissed you without asking you, without being able to talk to you even, but if you didn’t even like it, I’d feel compelled to park my wheelchair outside in a storm and wait to be struck by lightning.”
“Willow, I loved it!” Tara assured her immediately. “You, I’ve never even met anyone like you, and I’ve wanted to k-kiss you for weeks now.” Her smile softened, her eyes dropping. “But Willow, you-you’re straight,” she said, feeling almost like she was reminding Willow of that fact as well as herself.
Willow blinked in surprise, a sudden memory of Oz rising behind her eyes, and she swallowed back tears. “Tara…”
“It-it’s okay, Willow,” Tara interjected. “I k-know you l-love him.”
“I did, I mean, I do, but he’s not here, and you - Tara, I feel something for you too, and I don’t…you mean something to me, and I don’t know where it’s going, but I don’t want to give it up before we can find out. I mean, if you want to find out. Of course, we haven’t really even figured out if you might like me too, but you keep letting me kiss you, which is kind of giving me some hope, so if you’re going to say no, maybe you could do it now before I keep talking and ruin any slight chance I might have of keeping your friendship…”
“I like you, Willow,” Tara said softly, stopping Willow’s ramble. “I l-liked you the first t-time I ever saw y-you.” She smiled, glancing around the room. “You were the only one in the Wicca group who wasn’t…”
“A complete idiot?” Willow guessed hopefully.
Tara smiled, still looking anywhere but at Willow. “I w-wasn’t going to say idiot, but y-yeah. And I saw you at the meeting, and you’re gorgeous, and smart, and funny, and talented, and so strong, but I knew you had a b-boyfriend, and I k-knew nothing could ever happen.”
“Except now it’s happening,” Willow said softly. “I mean, if you want it to happen.”
Tara let out a deep breath. “I w-want it to…but Willow, you, you don’t…you’re still hurting, and you don’t…I don’t know if you even know what you want,” Tara said kindly, her hands gently stroking over her knees.
Willow let her eyes close, taking a deep breath of her own. She knew Tara was right, knew that she still had things she needed to sort out, things she had to deal with, but the only thing that seemed to matter at the moment was making sure that Tara wasn’t going anywhere. She wasn’t sure what she wanted, but she knew that she needed Tara in her life.
“You’re right,” she said softly. “I do have things to think about, but Tara, it’s not some kind of grief that is making me feeling like this about you.”
Tara sighed, nodding as she met Willow’s eyes. “I k-know you t-think that…”
“No, Tara. I don’t know what it is, or what it means, and it’s definitely not something I ever expected, well, there was one time after I met a version of myself from another dimension and she couldn’t stop hitting on me, and I was kind of curious, but I never really thought seriously about it, but now I know you and it just feels
right and I don’t want to lose that.”
“Willow…”
The redhead put a hand on Tara’s knee, stopping her words. “Tara, please, if you really like me, please just give me some time to figure this out. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” Tara said. “I’m always going to be your friend, Willow.” Willow opened her mouth to speak, but Tara’s hand dropped over hers on the blonde’s knee. “Just listen, okay? I
do like you, and whatever you decide, I’ll be here for you, I just…” She’d been keeping her voice steady through sheer force of will, but it was too much to maintain. “I-I don’t w-want you to r-regret anything.”
Willow wanted to argue with her, wanted to object, but ultimately she knew that Tara had a point, something she needed to consider. “You won’t leave town, or something, will you?” Tara laughed, shaking her head, and Willow let out a breath of relief. “Good,” she sighed. “I kind of like having you around,” she teased, trying to bring them out of the serious mood that have surrounded them since she’d entered.
“C-can I ask…why d-did you k-kiss me?” Tara asked, her eyes dropping to Willow’s hand on her leg.
Willow swallowed thickly, wondering how to explain how confused she’d been, how much clearer and simultaneously more confusing everything seemed now. “If I say because I thought we might die, is that going to get me slapped or something?” she joked instead, skirting the issue to keep them from driving back into their previous conversation.
Tara laughed again, her hand reaching of its own volition to cover Willow’s on her knee. “N-no,” she said softly, glancing up at her shyly and smiling cautiously.
Willow grinned back at her just as a ringing phone disturbed the mood further, and Willow let her hand slide off of Tara’s knee so that the blonde could go answer it. She turned her head to keep Tara in sight, smiling unconsciously.
“Buffy, h-hey,” Tara answered the phone.
“The Gentlemen are gone, if you couldn’t tell,” Buffy informed her. “Willow’s with you, isn’t she?”
Tara gave a glance over her shoulder, trying not to break into giddy laughter as she caught Willow looking at her. “Yes, she’s r-right here. Do you need her to c-come back?”
Buffy let out a deep breath. “Actually, I kind of was going to ask if you’d be alright if she stayed there tonight. There’s…I’ve got something I need to take care of over here, and I…”
“It’s o-okay, Buffy. We’ll be f-fine,” Tara said, hearing the stress in the Slayer’s voice.
“Thanks, Tara. I’ll call in the morning, if that’s alright.”
“N-no problem. Good luck with w-whatever it is,” Tara told her as they hung up.
“That was Buffy?” Willow stated more than asked. “She’s okay, right?”
“She’s okay, but she said there’s s-something going on in your dorm,” Tara told her.
“Oh, well, I should get back,” Willow said immediately, concerned for her friend.
Tara shook her head, crossing her arms across her stomach. “Actually, she’s going to call back in the m-morning.”
Willow got the implications of that immediately. “Oh… Are you okay with that? I think I’ll sleep alright in the chair…”
“Willow, no. It’s o-okay,” Tara objected. She blushed as she met Willow’s eyes. “It’s not like we can’t c-control ourselves.”
Willow blushed, nodding. “I wouldn’t, I would never…If you don’t like me, I’ll never say a word about it, it’ll never come up again, I swear.”
Tara smiled shyly, still blushing. “I think t-that’s our problem,” she confessed. “I d-do like you. A l-lot.”
Willow swallowed thickly, her throat suddenly dry. “Oh.” She bit her lip. “I wish I didn’t make you stutter like that,” she lamented softly.
Tara sighed, glancing away from Willow briefly. “It’s just been a l-long day. I have g-gotten better about it.”
“You have,” Willow agreed. “I have to say though, I think it’s cute,” she confessed, biting her lip. “I just don’t like when it happens because you’re anxious because of me.”
Tara squeezed her arms tighter around herself, knowing that they were edging back toward their previous serious conversation. “I…you don’t make me a-anxious, Willow. I just…”
Willow sighed heavily. “Yeah, I get it Tara, it’s fine.”
“Willow, no, it’s not…you, when I’m around you, you make me…I, you…” She laughed, glancing up at Willow through her eyelashes. “This is worse than the s-stuttering, sorry.”
Willow looked at her sadly. “It’s me, isn’t it? I make you so uncomfortable you can’t even speak.”
“No, Willow. It’s just, when you’re around, I just want to, I don’t know, I just want to take it all in,” she said, struggling to explain how Willow made her feel, what it was like to be around her.
Willow blushed, ducking her head. “When you do speak though, it’s a doozy,” she observed.
Tara smiled, laughing quietly. “Okay, I think it’s d-definitely time to talk about something that’s not going to e-embarrass me to death.” Willow smiled up at her, nodding and yawning uncontrollably. “Or maybe we should get you into b-bed,” Tara corrected herself. She moved from her desk to crouch in front of Willow’s chair, brushing hair back from her face. “How’s your arm feeling, sweetie?” she asked softly, the term of endearment slipping out before she could stop it, but the look on Willow’s face made it clear what she thought of the word.
“It’s been sort of throbbing since I got here, but I’ll live,” Willow answered. She bit her bottom lip as Tara’s hand brushed over her cheek. “Suddenly painless though,” she added, smiling.
Tara knew she shouldn’t, knew Willow was still uncertain about how she felt, but Tara leaned up helplessly, kissing Willow softly on the cheek. “Can I do a-anything?” she asked, sitting back on her heels to remove herself from temptation.
Willow thought about the question. “I’m sort of stinky from the workout I gave myself earlier getting over here, and I’m sure you won’t want to sleep anywhere near me, so if I could borrow a towel, I could use some time in the bathroom to clean myself up,” she said, blushing.
Tara nodded. “Okay, um…do you, could I…um…”
“I can handle it,” Willow said, knowing what Tara was trying to ask her. She blushed. “I’ve gotten a lot of practice. I just need the towel and a t-shirt, if you don’t mind me borrowing one.”
“Yeah, okay,” Tara said, embarrassed now. She stood up, moving towards her closet quickly, finding a clean towel and shirt easily.
She turned to Willow, holding them out and collecting her own shower kit, dropping it on top of the towel in Willow’s lap.
“Thanks, Tara,” Willow said, blushing shyly. “I’ll just go do that then,” she said, wheeling herself slowly toward the door.
“I’ll leave this open for you. Just come on in whenever you’re done,” Tara told her, lingering near the bed.
Willow nodded, leaving the room with a smile over her shoulder. As soon as the door closed behind her chair Tara dropped to sit on her bed, her mind reeling with everything that had happened since Willow had shown up at her door.
Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she pushed herself back to her feet, using her privacy to change into her pajamas, suddenly grateful that she had a single room and a full-sized bed. It was going to be difficult enough sleeping beside Willow after everything that had been said and done that day, but having a roommate at the same time would have been more than she could have dealt with.
Pillows were fluffed, and she changed the sheets quickly, idly straightening up her desk while she waited for Willow to come back. She rose to her feet as soon as Willow opened the door, the redhead giving her a smile.
“Expecting someone else?” Willow teased, laughing as Tara blushed. She wheeled herself close to the bed, hesitating. “Listen, Tara, it’s really not a problem for me to…”
“You’re not sleeping anywhere but in the bed,” Tara stated firmly. “I can sleep on the f-floor if it will make you feel better, but you’re sleeping r-right there.”
“No, I mean, it’s your bed. I just don’t want to…I don’t want to make you uncomfortable again.,” Willow sighed.
“You don’t,” Tara said, moving around to help Willow out of the chair, letting Willow pull herself into the bed, the blonde witch carefully shifting Willow’s injured leg from the chair to the sheets. “Are you okay?” she checked as Willow moved slowly to make herself comfortable.
Willow smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine, Tara. Thanks for everything.” She glanced beside her. “You going to join me?” she asked, hesitating.
Tara met her eyes, nodding shyly. “Yeah,” she agreed, lingering for a moment before she turned her back, rounding the bed to the other side and sliding under the covers.
They lay in silence, Tara clicking off the lights to plunge them into darkness. “Sleep good, Tara,” Willow offered, yawning.
“You too, Willow. Wake me up if you need anything, okay?” Tara requested softly.
“I will,” the redhead agreed, already falling asleep.
It took Tara longer than usual to fall asleep, but she slept better than she could ever remember sleeping.
*****
Next Time: It’s the end of the world as we know it…
I feel this one might need a note so -
Okay, I know some people are going to say I'm moving them too fast, but it's Hush! I had to do something with it... and life and death situation reactions are moving the story along... Willow reacted and now something new is going on... and also, notice that there are two time jumps in this one, so it's not immediately after Thanksgiving (the Hush portion itself takes place in very early January)...and she is putting some thought, worry into this... it's not entirely knee-jerk reaction...