TITLE: Donegal Street
AUTHOR: Wayland
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Willow, Tara and any other characters from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer franchise belong to Joss Whedon, FOX and ME.
SPOILERS: Up to and including Season Six.
SUMMARY: Tara left Willow after Tabula Rasa. It is now about a year later.
FEEDBACK: I would be grateful for your comments.
NOTES: Thanks to my beta, Vivienne, for the encouragement I needed to get this far and to Julia for reading and offering suggestions. Thanks to BeMyDeputy for invaluable input.
Chapter 11
Tara waited in the guest room until she judged that enough time had passed for Willow to have used the bathroom and gotten dressed, then she walked into the kitchen. Willow was making breakfast again. Oatmeal, this time. Because the day was cold and wet again and a warm and filling carbohydrate-based breakfast was excellent fuel. And because it tasted yummy. Tara smiled in agreement, but noted with concern that Willow’s smile was slightly fixed, the babble a little forced. She was probably embarrassed over the work thing.
She shouldn’t be, Tara thought wryly, remembering the way she had kept her own schedule packed over the last year.
They fell into small talk easily enough, and Tara was glad that Willow seemed to be relaxing. The phone rang, startling them both. Willow jerked her hand at the sudden noise and spilled a little coffee on the table. With an apologetic glance at Tara, she wiped her hand on the side of her jeans and went out to the hallway. Tara sat for a moment, before leaning over towards the coffee pot. Then she got up and fetched a cloth from the sink. She was mopping the table when Willow returned, a few minutes later.
‘That was Julie, from work? She’s really nice. And Kevin, her husband, he’s really nice too, although I haven’t exactly met him.’ Willow sounded a little flustered beneath the nonchalant tone. She waved at the clean table. ‘You didn’t need to . . . ’
‘Tell me about her,’ Tara interrupted, pulling out her chair and gesturing to Willow to do the same. She was suddenly determined that Willow’s friend should not become yet another no-go area of conversation between them.
‘Julie?’
‘Yes.’ Tara nodded. Willow placed her hands on the back of the chair.
‘Well, Julie’s-’
She was interrupted by the jarring sound of the phone. Willow winced and gestured with a thumb towards the hall.
‘Hey, who’s that? I’m popular today. Or maybe it’s just a telemarketer cos, you know, that’s what they do, call people. On the telephone.’ Tara smiled reflexively at the babble, while not really hearing it. Her eyes never left Willow as she rambled, talking on the move and wiping her hands down the sides of her jeans as she walked backwards out of the room.
A few moments later, Willow appeared in the doorway, wringing her hands. Tara raised her eyebrows in a question.
‘That was the office. See . . . I kind of said I’d go to work today - though I absolutely don’t have to - and cos of that there’s this data on my computer they need and they can’t get. I mean, I could just give them my password, but that would be bad. Very bad, apparently, and linking to the company network from here would also be very bad, so I need to go in. Quickly. Super quick. If that’s alright?’
Tara blinked. Thinking was like trying to see through fog.
‘So, you’re going to work?’
‘No! I mean, no. I just need to stop by the office, then come back.’
‘Cool.’
‘Really? You don’t mind?’ Willow was now tugging at the hem of her shirt, pulling the fabric out of shape.
‘Really.’ With a rush of relief, Tara felt her head starting to clear. She smiled. ‘I could take a bath. My neck’s a little stiff from the couch, you know?’ She regretted the comment the instant she saw a flush rising in Willow’s cheeks. ‘Or, or I could take a walk, go to a park. Get some fresh air. Either would be good.’
‘Or both.’
Tara’s heartbeat began to slow down again when she saw that Willow was smiling.
‘I’ll just find you some keys. I’m sure I have a set somewhere.’
Tara bit her lip as she watched Willow walk directly to the drawer next to the sink and pull out a bunch labelled ‘spare keys’ in her neat capitals. A teasing comment came to mind, something about her quirky devotion to order, but Tara did not voice it.
************
Willow wearily climbed up the steps of the subway station. In the stale, recycled air of the subway car she had breathed easily for the first time that morning. As she reached ground level, her office building came into view across the street. It looked different somehow, as if she had been away from the place for far longer than a few days. She entered the lobby and walked past Reception with a nod to Cheryl, who was on the phone, and used her swipe badge to open the door to the work area her team occupied. The other desks were empty. Mondays always began with a team meeting in the conference room on the floor below and Willow knew that if she was quick, she could be gone before they broke for lunch. It took just a few seconds at her computer to send the necessary files via internal email, then she left, passing Cheryl again, who was still on the phone, and waved in her direction. Julie would probably wonder why she hadn’t waited a few minutes to say hello. When the Irishwoman had rung earlier that morning to see where she was, Willow had given a very vague explanation. As was her custom, the older woman had not pushed, seemingly satisfied to know that Willow was well, and had simply changed her plans. Not for the first time, Willow was grateful for the woman’s kindness. The idea of explaining the past few days to someone else was daunting. She couldn’t even explain it to herself.
Willow realised that she had been wandering aimlessly when she found herself in a small tree-lined square that she did not recognise. She slumped onto the nearest of the benches that framed the square, unconsciously tilting her face towards the hazy autumn sunshine. When she became aware that the other seats were rapidly filling with office workers taking an early lunch, she shifted across to the edge of the bench and put her bag on the ground.
She missed Tara already. It was barely an hour since she’d left the apartment and she missed Tara. A physical shudder ran through her at the thought that Tara could be gone by the time she got back, but it dissipated quickly. It was a reflex, nothing more. Tara would not leave without a word. It just wasn’t in her nature to be cruel. Still, the weight on Willow’s chest remained. She focused on the peaceful scene around her and concentrated on breathing evenly. Two people came towards her, cutting across the square. The man had grey, close-cropped hair. He was tall, but stooped a little at the shoulders. Willow felt sure that when he was younger, his bearing had been ramrod straight. The woman was at least a foot shorter than him and a little heavier. Her hair was also grey, but retained hints of auburn. They were walking in silence, apparently just taking in the day. As the couple passed her, Willow noticed that they were holding hands. She averted her eyes, blinking rapidly.
A young man sat down beside her, his weight rocking the bench slightly. He unwrapped a sandwich and then tossed a piece of it to a pigeon that was loitering nearby. Seconds later a crowd of birds swooped in, fighting over the morsel of bread in an explosion of movement and noise. Willow recoiled and made an involuntary sound. The young man smiled at her in apology. Willow smiled back, to indicate that it was fine. She forced herself to stay seated for a couple more minutes, then she picked up her bag and headed back to the subway.
************
She knew that the apartment was empty as soon as she pushed the door open. Without waiting to shed her coat, Willow walked down the hallway. Tara had left the guest room door open and her overnight bag was in clear view on the bed. Willow retraced her steps and hung up her coat on the stand by the front door. She dropped her keys into a dish on the small table beneath, then walked towards the bathroom. It was still a little steamy and retained a faint scent of citrus. The bottle of oil that Tara bought at the market had been opened and now rested on the edge of the bath next to her own toiletries. Willow stood in front of the misted mirror. She used her bare hand to wipe it clear and then stared at the blurred reflection of her face.
************
The rattling of a key in the door prompted Willow to sit up straight on the couch and reach for a magazine from the coffee table. She had a smile already in place when Tara came into the living room.
‘Hey, back already?’ Tara spoke before Willow got the chance. She looked energised, her complexion reddened from the outdoors, tendrils of her hair, loose from her ponytail, danced around her face.
‘Well, obviously, I mean, with you sitting there, so work was ok?’
Willow saw something that looked like embarrassment flash across Tara’s face.
She sounds like me. Willow felt herself grinning as Tara walked to the couch and sat down sedately.
Me, when I’m excited . . . or nervous. Willow managed to hold onto the smile until Tara returned it.
‘Work was fine, thank you. Complete waste of time, actually. I could’ve done it in ten seconds if they let me have a link to the office system. Stupid security.’
‘Ah, but would you ever leave the apartment?’
Willow scowled in comic indignation at the comment, and was rewarded by Tara relaxing her shoulders against the back of her seat.
‘So, did you have lunch while you were out?’
Willow skilfully avoided the question by pretending she hadn’t heard it.
‘Did you manage to find a park?’
‘I did. And did you eat lunch?’
Willow took on a child-like expression of outraged innocence. Her hands gestured rapidly as she blustered, ‘No, but I didn’t need to. Remember all that oatmeal? I bet it’s not even digested yet. It’s like a super-slow-release type fuel. You do know, there are scientific papers showing its rate of calorific burn up relative to time? The graph is practically a flat line.’
Tara did not dignify this nonsense beyond a disdainful, ‘Pfft,’ adding a flick of her hand for good measure.
‘Wait, did you just ‘pfft’ me?’
Tara looked as if she were holding on to her stern expression with the greatest of difficulty.
‘If I did, it was entirely justified.’
‘Huh.’ Willow pulled a face.
‘So, it’s an early dinner then. What’s your favourite restaurant here?’ For a second, Willow was lost for words. Tara quickly continued, ‘No, wait, let’s just walk around until we see a nice one.’ She grinned and added teasingly, ‘Work off some of that oatmeal for you?’
Willow agreed readily, but with a raise of the eyebrows to signal that she had not quite conceded the point.
‘Oh, do you mind if I use the phone first?’
‘Of course, go ahead. It’s in the hall, but I guess you probably already saw that . . . . ’
‘I did.’ Tara forestalled further explanation with a sweet smile.
As the door closed, Willow sank back into the couch very slowly, as if her body was made of egg shell.
************
Tara, by nature, was a diligent student, but one consequence of her separation from Willow was being well ahead with her schoolwork. There was always another book to read or another draft of a paper to write. She told herself it was necessary for her grades, in order to keep her scholarship, and not just a way to fill the empty hours.
Sometimes, she had even believed it.
Tara picked up the phone and pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket, rehearsing her words as she dialled. She had no work due, but she did need to ask a couple of classmates to take notes for her. She had a vague explanation for her absence prepared, and hoped they would not enquire too closely.
A couple of minutes later, she was done. It was a relief when neither of the people she called were home, and she had managed to leave messages for both of them without stuttering. She rarely had difficulties with her speech any more, but answering machines still unnerved her.
Willow had stayed in the living room, perhaps to give her privacy for her calls. Tara lingered in the hall, uncertain whether or not to disturb her. Finally she knocked and poked her head round the door. Willow was on the couch, engrossed in a magazine, but seemed happy at the interruption.
‘Ready?’
Tossing the magazine aside, Willow stood.
Tara hesitated. She wasn’t all that hungry herself yet.
‘Or we could have coffee first?’
Willow smiled. ‘I can always drink more coffee.’
************
Tara sat at the kitchen table, clutching the mug that Willow had filled.
‘So, did you see Julie. At the office?’ She hoped she didn’t sound pushy, but it seemed important, somehow, to learn more about the one friend in the city that Willow had mentioned. A guilty look flashed across Willow’s face, unnerving Tara for a moment. She relaxed again when Willow began to speak.
‘No, I really should have done . . . but the Monday meeting drags on sometimes and I didn’t want to wait.’
Tara risked another question, ‘What’s she like?’
Hesitantly at first, and then with growing confidence, Willow described the lively Irishwoman she had encountered on her first day at work.
It was clear that the older woman had taken the shy newcomer under her wing from the start. Tara was glad of that.
‘She’s been married forever and she talks about her husband all the time, you know the way some people do, without even realising?’ The wistful note in Willow’s voice made Tara blink quickly and look away for a second.
‘I had this picture of him in my mind, you know? This mild little guy who teaches middle school and never gets a word in with Julie around, but doesn’t mind really. Then one day she showed me a photo and he’s a 6’5” African American giant who looks like an ex-football player. Actually, he is an ex-football player.’
‘Still doesn’t mean he gets a word in edgeways,’ Tara smiled.
‘True,’ Willow smiled back. ‘In fact, I’m sure you’re right about that.’
Tara wondered why Willow had never met the man. Julie sounded like the kind of person who would have invited a lonely new colleague to her home. Perhaps she had. Perhaps Willow couldn’t face the prospect of an afternoon in the middle of a happy, noisy family. Tara pushed the idea away and settled back in her chair, allowing herself the luxury of just observing the Willow. She was wearing a deep purple top that clashed brilliantly with her hair. It wasn’t as close-fitting as Tara remembered, but still, she loved the way the bright colour seemed to fit Willow’s vivid energy. Tara recalled the mild shock she had felt when she realised, the first time they embraced, that Willow was a little shorter than she was. She had always seemed to fill any room she entered. She did so now. Her hands were a blur of movement as she sketched out the story she was telling and every light in the room seemed drawn to her, as if its destiny were to sparkle in her wide eyes.
A flash of red jolted Tara from the trance she had slipped into. Willow was rudely poking her tongue out at her.
‘You haven’t heard a word I just said, have you?’ Willow pouted as Tara laughed in denial and then surprised herself by managing a fairly accurate summary of the story. Willow’s eyes narrowed in mock suspicion as she listened to Tara’s account, then she nodded reluctantly, as if granting a large concession. Tara pretended to lick a finger and mimed the scoring of a point while Willow sat back, her arms folded in exaggerated disgruntlement.
Tara laughed again. Then it hit her. It spread through her body like a scalding liquid.
The thought was a terrifying one, and yet she felt completely calm.
I’m not leaving here without Willow.The quizzical look on Willow’s face made Tara realise that she must have spaced out for a second.
‘So, ready for dinner?’
Tara stumbled a little as she stood up. Catching the look of concern on Willow’s face, she remarked nonchalantly,
‘Oops - two left feet.’
Willow still looked a little uneasy, but her tone was cheerful, ‘Yep. Dinner it is.’
**************