by Katharyn » Sat Dec 20, 2003 11:47 am
Title: Christmas Future - A Gathering Group (Part 5)
Author: Forrister and Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Definitely please.
Timeline This story exists within the ideal future the show never wanted to give us but which myself and Kerry have been writing each Christmas story within. Everyone is happy and alive. Buffy did die at the end of S5, but she came back without recourse to dark magics. Pretty much everything is good. Happy. Together. Good.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens.
Summary: It’s not just the girls anymore.
Disclaimer: We don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. We am making zilch from this series of stories. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional and never explicitly.
Notes: This story is set a couple of years from now.
Thanks To: Katharyn – Thanks to Kerry for letting me write something a little less dark with her again. Forrister – Thanks to Katharyn for having the patience to wait for my slow writing to catch up with her. Thanks also to all the Kittens everywhere – Merry Christmas Kitties!!!
Christmas Future
A Gathering Group
By
Forrister & Katharyn Rosser
Everything which they’d been able to see since Sam had arrived hadn’t done anything to allay the impression that… well, there was something happening there. The absolute very least which could be said was that the two girls were very good friends. Beyond that Willow was sure she couldn’t have found one thing about their status which wasn't countered by something else and would have made her look either way at the two of them.
And where did instinct come into it?
Certainly she’d always felt Dawn was firmly straight, but then there had been some pretty… well, she had to say it was kind of gay, artwork and postcards in her room at the Summer’s house. Mind you, at least half of that had been presents from her or Tara, but Dawnie had liked it and started out with it. If she hadn’t then they wouldn’t have gotten it for her.
Art didn’t necessarily mean much though. It was hardly what you would call proof. Of anything.
Okay, so there had been boy friends too. Some of them were boys they’d actually met… but Willow was hardly one to believe that was conclusive either. She was the one who’d dated a boy too before she’d known herself properly. She hadn’t always known, not until she’d met Tara. It could creep up on you without warning, loving someone, without you knowing about it in advance.
How could she have known she loved Tara before she met Tara? Maybe… well, kind of obviously, there had always been something not quite right about her feelings for Oz, or Xander… but how could she have known that until she'd experienced something which was as perfect as being in love with Tara. It had been perfectly okay at the time, being with the guys, but… it was nothing compared to what she had now. A person had to find who they were and who they weren’t. In Willow’s case she hadn’t been straight, not deep down. She hadn’t been meant for anyone but Tara…
If there was something between Sam and Dawn, then how could Dawn have known that until she met Sam? The letters, all cryptically referring to the person known as ‘S’ had only started when Dawn had gone to college and had the chance to meet ‘S.’
College where she’d met her roommate Sam.
Not any college, Sam wasn’t at any college. She was at that college.
Watching them unpacking together, and it seemed they’d packed for more than a couple of days – even if it had been clothes for two – hadn’t dissuaded her there could be something there either. All of their clothes seemed to have been mixed up in one bag, like one of them had packed for both. That implied a degree of familiarity and even that they might be sharing drawers… Even though that wasn’t something she and Tara, or most people, did.
But it could just be through friends sharing the same room and the possibility of running late, having to chuck everything into bags in a hurry? Might that explain why there was so much too? Because they hadn’t had time to actually choose what to bring?
Then there was the fact that Sam was all over Dawn… The taller girl was naturally very tactile, that was obvious enough. The way she’d touch Dawn’s hand, or arm, probably for reassurance in a strange house, was… well, it seemed a little over the top. Dawn was also making contact with Sam quite a lot too though. And Willow had found Sam brushing Dawn’s long hair after they’d finished unpacking.
Brushing hair was very sensual…
At least Willow found it so. The point she had to remember was that what she found sensual might just be a normal part of being to someone else. Sam, for example. When she or Tara had brushed Dawn’s hair there hadn’t been anything sensual about that…
It depended who the brusher and brushee were. It depended on their relationship, which was the whole point of her musings.
Let’s face it, she said to herself, she had no more idea whether Dawn and Sam were together than she had when they’d arrived. And, as per Tara’s suggestions, she wasn’t about to ask either. She agreed with them wholeheartedly… She couldn’t imagine asking the question without babbling her way through most of it anyway.
It would be painful.
If anyone was going to ask it would have to be…
She’d been about to think Tara was the perfect choice for something like that. Tara was a person that everyone who met her felt they could confide in. Tara was confide-girl. Dawn could confide in her – if there was anything to confide. The trouble would be that then Tara would know, and she still wouldn’t. Part of confiding was not telling other people. She’d been about to think all of that, but then she’d heard another voice at the door downstairs. What was Anya doing here?
Anya was here? She was sure it was Anya’s voice.
Oh goddess, please don’t tell me Anya is here. Anyone but Anya. Leaving aside the whole fact they’d not got along very well, ever, even if they’d made it to fond civility and mutual… toleration, there was the Dawn and Sam situation to consider. Anya was blunt as a frying pan, but she wasn’t blind as a bat.
And she could leap to tall assumptions in a single bound.
Not that they were necessarily going to be wrong. They were assumptions Willow was already making for herself. They wouldn’t be unwarranted, or without foundations. But… Anya wasn’t the sort of person who would be put off from saying something by being uncertain or having no actual proof. One of Willow’s nightmares was Anya on jury duty. In fact Willow was sure Anya was going to be so blunt she could reduce the, clearly very shy, Sam to tears… if she said the wrong thing or felt she had a reason to.
Tara knew all that though. If Tara was getting the door, and it must have been her whose lovely voice Willow could make out, then Tara would take care of it. Besides, Anya was closer to Tara, they seemed to get on for some reason. Tara was able to deal with Anya a little better.
Mind you, Tara had a way of getting along with people.
She went to the top of the stairs and looked down to the doorway below…
Xander tried to wave from beneath everything he was carrying when he saw her there. But all that happened was he managed to drop most of it, juggling one with piece of gaudily coloured plastic for a few seconds before he eventually caught it between his knees. Bending to retrieve that just made him drop the last of the things which were in his arms.
Or had been in his arms anyway.
What were they all? Christmas decorations? Why…?
Yes, Willow thought she recognized the centerpiece from the Magic Box Christmas display. After all, she’d helped put those decorations up often enough over the years. This was the first year neither she nor Tara had been obliged to assist – which meant follow the orders of – Anya in putting up the decorations for as many festivals as could be described as falling into this two month holiday period.
But what were they doing here? They didn't need decorations, they didn't celebrate most of the holidays involved.
More to the point what were Anya and Xander doing here? Willow checked her watch. It was only just turned 3 pm. It was the afternoon rush, especially the day before the last trading day to Christmas. Xander was supposed to have been Anya’s unpaid slave… sorry, that should be assistant after he’d finished working at his own job as foreman which would have been sometime this morning.
“Hey Willow,” Anya called. “Aren’t you pleased to see us too?”
Tara had said she was pleased to see them?
Tara looked back up the stairs and smiled apologetically.
“We brought you decorations to cheer up this dreary place you like to call a home,” the ex-demon told her as she looked around at the hallway appraisingly.
“Thanks,” Willow managed. But why? Only one and a half more shopping days until Christmas and you’re here?”
”There was a water main burst in the street outside the shops,” Tara explained, obviously having heard it all from the pair who’d just arrived. Come to think of it their shoes did look a little muddy. “So Anya thought –“
“Because the street is closed until at least the day after Christmas,” Anya interjected.
“– She’d give us the benefit of all her decorations.”
“Rest assured that I will be suing the local council for lost earnings and obviously shoddy workmanship. This is not why I pay my taxes. And these things didn’t happen when Xander was digging for them,” Anya pointed out.
“What a sweet thought,” Willow declared with no hint of sarcasm. She was too shocked for sarcasm. She and Tara had deliberately decided not to decorate the house. They didn’t share in the beliefs associated with the holidays and besides… it looked tacky. This was a refuge from the commercialism of the holidays which existed out there.
Had been a refuge. Now it was rapidly going to turn into a bastion of commercialism, just without anything to sell.
She hoped…
No, not a bastion. Now it was quickly going to become a… celebration of commercialism. Willow had even hated putting ‘Happy Holidays’ on her website. “Do you and Xander not want anything extra up at your place?” she wondered, trying to mitigate the effects.
“Why?” Anya asked curiously.
“Well, it doesn’t seem fair that you miss out on all of these treats you brought for us,” Willow said, keeping her face carefully neutral. She was actually really proud of how well she was dealing with Anya.
Tara grimaced. Willow knew what her girlfriend meant. Her tone had been a little close to the wind on that occasion, no matter how well she was doing. The wrong interpretation by Anya… or rather the right one, and it wouldn’t be very nice. Willow sighed. But she sighed to herself. She didn't make it obvious.
“We won’t miss out,” Anya said simply.
Well, Willow mused, there was a lot of stuff. More than it would take to decorate a house, an apartment and the shop.
Xander nudged his wife, whispered something to her which Willow didn’t catch, before looking up to her and grinning that oh so innocent grin of his. It hadn’t changed over the years. She could still read him like a book. He thought there was something to apologise for, but now he had his ‘it’s not me!’ face on.
“There’s no need for it at home,” Anya said back to him. “Tara made the offer and we’re just taking her up on it.”
Willow looked to Tara. What did you say?
Anya looked to Tara. You know what you said.
Xander looked to Tara. You did say it didn't you?
Tara looked…
Well, Tara found she had to look back to Willow. There was a barely perceptible shrug there and then Willow knew Tara hadn’t just offered them anything when they arrived at the door. So what was Anya talking about. No one had mentioned these holidays since all the way back to…
No.
She wouldn’t.
She was Anya. Of course she would. Mind like a steel trap and the will to use it when it was most inconvenient to anyone else – not that she ever had to plan it that way.
“We can take this stuff and go,” Xander blustered as he picked up everything he’d dropped.
“Don’t be silly,” Anya told him. “Tara wants us here for Christmas. She said so. We can’t leave now.”
“Last year,” Willow said, intending to be obvious in her meaning. Xander, she knew, hadn’t missed it. But Anya could be more obtuse. When it suited her she could genuinely miss the broadest hints the world had ever seen. Hints which could have spanned oceans.
“And we remembered! Even though you never mentioned it again!” Anya announced, sounding proud of herself. “Happy holidays! May you always have money to spend!”
“Yes, you did remember.”
“Anya!” Dawn called from the top of the stairs.
“Hello Little Girl!” Anya called back, carelessly pushing past both Willow and Tara to get to Dawn as she came down the stairs. Xander shrugged apologetically and Tara reached out and touched Willow’s arm as they came back together. Meanwhile, Dawn and Anya hugged. “How’s school?” Anya asked. “Have they taught you how to make lots of money yet?”
“I think that’s next weeks lecture,” Dawn responded with a big smile. “Hi Xander,” she waved from over Anya’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?” she asked curiously. Neither Tara, nor Willow especially, had mentioned Anya and Xander being here.
“I’m afraid me and Xander are going to have to kick you out of the bedroom, little girl,” Anya told her. “You’ll be okay on the sofa bed now, won’t you?”
Talk about fait accompli, Willow thought to herself. Anya just went right for what she wanted.
“Sure I would, but its not just me,” Dawn announced. “So, sorry but no.” She looked to Tara for support, but her friend was too wrapped up in silently soothing Willow with a loving meeting of the eyes.
“No? Why? Who else is here?” Anya checked. For some reason she gave Willow an accusing backwards glance, as if she’d failed to tell her something – even though she hadn’t known they were coming at all and she'd barely even spoken to her.
None of them had known. About any of this. This was all one surprise after another, and not the kind of surprise Willow had been thinking of for Tara’s return from being away.
“Sam,” Willow told her. “Sam is here with Dawn.”
“Ah,” Anya said knowingly. Did she actually know more? Then she leaned in towards Dawn conspiratorially. “They,” obviously meaning the owners of the house, “hate it when you –“
Willow knew where she was going.
So did Tara.
And neither of them was about to go there and force Dawn to say anything – even if Anya’s bluntness might have made it easier to find out everything they wanted to know. This wasn't the way. “We hate it when people leave the bathroom door open more than a crack,” Tara added forcefully at exactly the same moment as Willow announced it was a question of “hanging the toilet roll up the wrong way round.” They were both bathroom related, they were almost on the same wavelength.
But not quite.
“Both,” they said together with a meaningful glance towards Anya.
“Sheesh,” Anya said, feeling their glare. “There are so many rules where they live. You know, regulation is the bane of the small business woman.” The actual point of their interruption seemed to have washed over Anya though as she turned back to Dawn. “They also hate it if you make a lot of noise when you – ”
“Come on An,” Xander said as he grabbed her arm, and guided Anya with her bag of decorations towards the living room. He hadn’t missed Tara and Willow’s point at all. And no one knew Anya better than he did. He loved her – but he knew her too. “We have to go decorate.”
“But I just took them all down,” his wife pointed out. “Couldn’t Dawn do it? Being as she’d here?”
“You know that you’re the only one with the right touch to get everything perfect,” Xander said – clearly to rescue Dawn from his love’s attention. Probably after witnessing Willow and Tara’s reactions. It was true though, they did hate it when anyone but them had noisy sex in their house. They’d told Anya and Xander off about it last time they’d stayed with them.
Anya had been about to provide a service in announcing that. They might even have found out exactly what was going on, but whatever it was Anya wouldn’t have made Sam feel very welcome even if she'd meant too. Anyone as shy as Sam seemed to be wouldn’t do too great against Anya, the great extrovert. And at the very least Dawn was a good friend of Sam’s so it wouldn’t be too nice for her either.
“It’s okay, Xander,” she heard Anya say as they went off to do their decoration thing and saw the sofa which would turn into their bed. “We can have sex on the floor, in front of the… gas fire. I hear it’s romantic that way.”
None of them looked at each other, not Willow, not Tara, not Dawn. But she knew they were all, as she was, making a firm mental note not to venture downstairs tonight.
---------------------------------
Anya was getting annoyed now.
First all the welcomes had seemed like they were surprised. She’d remembered their offer, did they have no faith in her memory? And then a bare fifteen minutes later, not only was no one paying attention to how much effort she had been putting into Xander’s placement of the decorations in their living room, but she strongly suspected she was being discriminated against. It had only taken her about an hour in the new girl’s presence to figure it out.
Surprise was one thing; discrimination was something else entirely. Anya hated discrimination. It was stupid and it stopped people spending money, which was the whole point of everyone being created equal in a capitalist society. In this case discrimination, against her and Xander, was going to have another effect. Nearly as bad as not being able to get her hands on everyone’s money – regardless of race, creed or sexuality.
Sam wasn’t Dawn’s boyfriend.
Oh no. Sam was a girl.
Sam was Dawn’s girlfriend. And she didn't seem interested in buying anything magical.
It was obvious Sam and Dawn were together, because they had a bed. Sam was a lesbian and she had a bed. Dawn was with Sam in the bed. Ergo, it seemed obvious. Everyone who was a lesbian had a bed.
Was it catching?
Was it this house?
No… it was a college thing because that had come before the house. Willow went to college and she became a lesbian.
Dawn went to college and became a lesbian.
It was simple cause and effect.
Sam and Tara seemed to have already been lesbians and they had gone to college. Buffy had escaped college quick enough to ensure that she hadn’t made that self-discovery about herself, but with her appalling track record with men, maybe she should have stayed in college a little longer.
Anya herself had never wanted to go to college and perhaps that was why. Instinctively she’d known she was happy with men and man bits so she hadn’t needed to go. She loved sex with the manly Xander. It was a good thing too, or she might have become a man-hater.
It was college.
Thank god Xander never went, he might have become one too. Like Riley had. Clearly, as a post-graduate, he must have been over-exposed to the extent he became a lesbian too. It was, no doubt, why Buffy couldn’t stay with him. At least unless she’d stayed in college a little longer – then it might have worked out.
Clearly ‘Don’t ask. Don’t tell,’ really was at work in the military. It was very enlightened of them. She approved, at least given the stupid discriminatory alternatives. She didn't care who gave her their money, why should they care who fought for them?
On the other hand… Buffy had been there as long as Willow had when she was turned to the sisterhood… and Buffy had been sleeping with Riley. Riley was practically a lesbian, though he still had the man bits. At least she assumed so. Was Buffy, in fact, a lesbian? Or perhaps just questioning herself? At least until she left college.
Anya knew she was going to ask her.
Or perhaps she could just wait to see whether anyone found a bed for the Slayer the next time she turned up. Clearly there was a linkage, maybe it was a subconscious one, but it was obviously more than a coincidence when you looked at the evidence. Four lesbians. Two double beds.
The holiday season meant money to be made, New Year meant post Christmas sales, Lesbians meant getting a real bed.
And that was just plain wrong. Some lesbians should take their turn. Anya and Xander had been together for much longer than Dawn and Sam had. Time served must count for something when it came to getting a proper bed.
Hmm. Anya wondered whether there was any chance of making Sam and Dawn believe there was more fun to be had in front of the fire. In the cabin, a couple of years ago, Tara and Willow had… apparently, found it very romantic. Romance had been what they were admitting to…
But romantic? Right, maybe. But as well as all the romance they’d obviously been at it like rabbits.
Rabbits?
No… Those damn rabbits. If they weren’t at it so much they wouldn’t be breeding. And breeding. And breeding. More and more and more evil little bunny rabbits.
And then more.
More.
Just like before…
“Xander, hold me,” she said suddenly terrified.
“What’s wrong with her?” Anya heard Sam ask from the doorway. All she could think of was rabbits and how lesbians were so, so, so much better than the rabbits. Besides they left Xander alone for her to have. Rabbits… might have stolen him away in the night and nibbled on his carrot.
“It’s a bunny attack,” Xander replied to her as he held his wife.
Too many people underestimated the bunnies, but Xander understood. They were evil. So totally unlike the lesbians… Anya liked lesbians… except when they were in her bed. Then they weren’t evil, but they were taking part in discrimination against straight couples have comfortable sex.
“She’ll be okay in a minute,” Xander assured them.
“Bunnies?”
Anya jumped at the word from a stranger.
“Shush honey… there are no bunnies here.”
“Promise?” Anya asked. She was shaking in his arms.
“Promise,” Xander said, gesturing to Sam to not only not say the word again, but to also reassure his wife.
“No,” the girl said. “None at all. Promise.” Sam looked as if she thought Anya was absolutely mad. Still, she was nice enough to reassure her about the… bad things. Anya decided she liked her, even if she didn't understand the truth. The truth was she wasn’t mad. She just knew the evil that was bunnydom. The menace to all creation. If these humans only knew what had happened in the past… and how often. They worried about asteroids hitting the earth every few million years… but the bunnies organized much more frequently than that and you didn't see the government spending millions on anti-bunny nukes. Where was Bruce Willis going to be when the bunnies came? Hiding on his asteroid probably. It might be the safest place.
“How do you get through Easter though?” Sam asked her.
Anya shrieked and ran to the bathroom. There was a lock on that door.
Easter!!
-----------------------------------------------
The game of life had never seemed so much fun as it did when Dawn was playing against Anya. It was the grudge match to end all grudge matches. It had been going on for years now ever since that first game they’d all played.
Of course they’d all been playing against each other tonight, but there was another dimension between those two. Tara could understand why that might be… Anya did like to bend the rules to match the world as it really was – or at least to become the totally free market society Anya rather wished it was. Dawn, on the other hand, was competitive enough to want to win and by the book enough to want to stop Anya – even if her suggestions were really funny sometimes.
Selling children into a sweat shop might well have been a step up from out and out slavery, but not by far. Of course, Anya would never actually employ children to work for her – even for such low wages – but perhaps only because she didn’t trust them not to turn loose the very real dangers in a magic shop and affect her profits.
Anya had respect for the rights of humanity, but she had a greater respect for her bottom line. In that she was no different to the multi-national companies, which did export their jobs to sweat shop economies rather than pay a decent wage and make a little less profit.
Tara knew why it happened, but it didn't mean she had to agree with it. In fact Anya wasn't really in favor of it either. It meant there were fewer people with money to buy stuff from her.
“Wow,” Willow exclaimed as they went to fetch drinks for everyone from the kitchen, “you were thinking about all that while we were playing?”
“That and how Miss Kitty’s going to react to Anya’s new pet,” Tara replied.
Anya and Xander had brought Spot the German Shepherd with them, left him in the car when they came in and only later mentioned that he’d be pining without them.
Before either she or Willow could say anything about the merits of Spot coming inside, Anya had managed to promise them he was housetrained, if barely, and Dawn had cracked a joke about how long it had taken to get Xander to that position.
No one had laughed.
Except Sam.
Sam was the reason they hadn’t laughed. Everyone had been watching as Sam fell about the place laughing. Willow had even wondered whether the girl had had a drink, but Dawn assured them it was just how she was…
Nice.
Sam was nice.
Funny too.
She even took the Anya/Dawn Game of Life rivalry in her stride without taking sides.
She even took the Anya ‘But lesbians don’t want children let me buy them off you’ suggestion without doing more than laughing and selling up. Being as Anya didn't want children in the game either, Tara had suspected there was actually a Game of Life sweat shop under the coffee table which was just waiting for Anya’s call to say she had spare children going cheap.
“You think Miss Kitty is going to… disapprove?” Willow asked with some, sudden, trepidation about letting Spot in.
What was she thinking? This was Miss Kitty they were talking about. She had two mommies and the rest of the world was for eating, scratching, chasing or pestering for attention. Dogs didn't rank high on Miss Kitty’s tolerance scale. Especially dogs in her own territory. Most especially dogs in her own house… At least they assumed so, they’d never dared to bring a dog into their house before.
And what of young, playful dogs with no idea what a cat was other than something else which was furry, smaller than it was and the hissing didn't really mean anything did it? Surely not. Miss Kitty wasn’t going to be impressed, but the plan was to keep Spot in the living room with Anya and Xander, and let Miss Kitty have the rest of the house. Of course, the one place Miss Kitty would want to be in that case was the living room.
Miss Kitty rarely hissed. She didn't need to, the rest of the neighborhood, dogs, other kitties and humans alike were all whipped into shape by now. The dogs stayed away. The people let her rub up against them when required or left her alone when she wanted to be solitary and the other cats…
Miss Kitty didn't fight.
Not anymore. She didn’t have to.
She was one tough kitty.
And though she might not be fighting, she was certainly doing other things out there. Their cat wasn’t a lesbian. Miss Kitty was firmly hetero. She wasn’t interested in anyone else’s pussy.
Tara nodded. Of course Miss Kitty was going to disapprove. The first they knew about it would be a lot more barking out of Spot, followed by a yelp of pain as Miss Kitty scratched him, Anya carrying on and only then, when they looked down to the cat flap, would they notice it was swinging and Miss Kitty had actually come in.
It was a shame, Tara kind of liked Spot but he was way overmatched despite already being more than twice Miss Kitty’s size.
Even if he didn't have a ‘spot’ on him, which made the choice of name interesting. There was a mutual agreement not to ask though, which even Sam had picked up on – unless Dawn had warned her about such follies, which was very possible.
“Do you think there’s any chance of peace?” Willow wondered.
“Between Miss Kitty and Spot or you and Anya?” Tara joked.
“Miss Kitty and Spot,” Willow replied. “If Anya keeps making hints about Sam I don’t think there will be any keeping us apart. I’ll never forgive her if she forces something which they weren’t ready for.” It had happened to her… she'd outed herself to Buffy but no one else had known. Until there had been an argument. Which, funnily enough, Anya had nothing to do with and had been the moment the ex-demon and Tara became friends.
“She’s just Anya, and pretty much full time too,” Tara told her love. She was an Anya fan. They’d always got on well, being Scooby girlfriends together, they’d bonded nicely. Besides, Anya had always been grateful to Tara for ‘converting’ Willow and thus keeping her away from Xander.
It hadn’t happened like that – but Tara couldn’t deny Anya was very happy with Xander and she was also in a perpetual life of bliss with Willow at her side.
On top of her.
Beneath her.
Before her.
Behind her.
Wherever Willow was, just so long as it was close by. Which brought her right back to being close by Willow... She crossed the kitchen to where her love was filling the glasses with their drinks, came up behind her and slipped her arms round the red-haired goddesses waist, crossing them around the front of her by gently pushing the shirt upwards to bear a little skin and placing her hands on the warm, soft skin underneath.
Willow, instantly responsive, leaned back into Tara’s embrace and twisted her head for a kiss, which Tara gladly provided. What Willow wanted, Willow got. “Taken your mind off things?” Tara asked gently after their lips parted, leaning her head to nuzzle the back of her girlfriend’s neck.
“Oh yes,” Willow confirmed. “My mind is officially elsewhere and off all other things.”
“Good.”
“But if you keep making those little movements with your hands… my body is going to be on something too,” she threatened. Tara motions were tiny, certainly nothing which should have been… sexy. But then this wasTara.
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Willow teased. “Right on top of you.”
“Promises, promises, lover of mine.”
“We owe each other a lot already,” Willow pointed out.
Tara sighed. She couldn’t help it. It was nice having their friends here… it really was but it wasn’t conducive to getting time together, alone and free to do what they so very much wanted to. “We do, we really do.” She even slipped her hands a little lower, coming to the swell of Willowbelly.
Getting sexier…
“You can keep going if you want,” Willow told her, “but you know someone is going to come looking for their drinks and I can bet you who it will be.”
“Or Miss Kitty will come in and start fighting with Sam,” Tara hadn’t withdrawn her hands at all though. They were right where they had been, or even pushing a little lower and finding the upper edge of some fabric.
“Or someone else will turn up unexpectedly,” Willow tried.
“Maybe the world will end,” Tara wondered, slowly insinuating one hand into the top of Willow’s skirt.
“But we wouldn’t fall asleep,” Willow replied as she turned around, plucking Tara’s hand from where it had slipped to and instead planted it on her butt. Tara smiled, pulled Willow to her and kissed her deeply.
Willow found her hands wandering over her love’s body and gravitating to Tara’s lovely breasts…
And the moment at which she applied a little pressure to the cupped globes was exactly when someone coughed to make their presence known. Their eyes closed and their foreheads rested against each other in a momentary expression of despair. Couldn’t they even kiss? Couldn’t they have a little moment to themselves?
“Do you want me to take them for you,” Sam asked quietly. She even sounded sorry.
“Them?” Willow asked, still held in Tara’s arms. They weren’t going to apologize and leap apart. But then no one would expect them too either.
“The drinks,” Sam said. “They’re ready right? I mean I’d leave them, but Anya wants hers and sent me to get it...”
Willow could tell from the way she said the words that Sam had just the right impression of Anya. The way she said her name… Willow suspected it was just how she sometimes sounded when talking about Xander’s wife.
Wife??
How had that happened? How had Xander let it come to that?
Tara smiled at her… Willow kissed her quickly, ready to part and pass the drinks to Sam.
“No!” Sam said quickly, but with a humorous tone to her voice. “You stay right there, I’ll get them for you.” She flashed them a wink as she made her way across the kichen.
Tara and Willow looked into each other’s eyes. Okay, so this wasn't a chance to snuggle, and it would only be for a few moments. But it would be for a few moments they wouldn’t have been able to snatch any other way… at least until bed time – whenever that ended up being now they had so much company.
The drinks were about to be delivered.
Miss Kitty hadn’t arrived home.
There were no imminent signs of the world ending – which tended to be pretty obvious.
And the airport was almost ready to shut down for the night. There would be no interruptions from people flying in at least.
“Thank you,” Willow mouthed to Sam, and completely unabashed turned back to her lover, still held tight up against her by that hand on her ass and slipped her tongue back into Tara’s mouth as their lips met.
Okay, Tara thought, she would have waited for Sam to actually go, but she got the point. Willow was making a point. Tonight. No matter what. Tonight they would be together and if they had to avoid getting in any way noisy so be it. Noise really wasn't their thing, except for the unavoidable.
But they would be together. She nipped at Willow’s probing tongue, causing it to pull back so that Tara could take the initiative and drive into Willow’s mouth. She was going to find other ways to do that. She was still mortified about falling asleep last night and she was in the mood to make that up to Willow this night.
More than in the mood.
She was ready for it. Eager, you might say.
Could they finish this round of the Game of Life quicker? Perhaps they could sell Anya all the children and let her create her in-game sweat shop to exploit their labour? As long as she won, Anya wouldn’t care. So what if they set a precedent, there were bigger things to think about than future rounds of the game.
She pulled her lover in tighter against her and they could feel each other breathing heavily through the contact at their chests. So Sam was getting the tray and turning to go? Who cared? Willow was here… and Willow was hers.
And she was Willow’s of course. It all kind of went together nicely.
“You know,” Sam said quietly as she was on her way past them with the tray, “Dawn was right. You two are so good together.”
They broke their kiss for a moment, turned to their guest and smiled a wicked smile.
“And you intend to get better?” Sam guessed.
Silent nods and more kissing. They were both glad felt comfortable enough to make such a joke with them. It seemed board games were the key to getting people out of their shells.
“I’ll make you some excuses,” Sam said and headed off.
Idly, Tara wondered what they might be. But then she really didn't care, she was busy with Willow and the precious moments they had to be a little closer than they would have been otherwise.
Suddenly she thought she sensed something, but locked against Willow there was nothing she could see. And it was just as she felt the draught from outside tickle her legs and meet the heat that was definitely forming in the space within her skirt that she heard the first bark.
The first crash followed just a moment later.
“We…” Kiss. “We…” Kiss. “Should” Kiss. “Go.” Kiss.
“We” Kiss “Really” Kiss “Should” Kiss.
Miss Kitty wasn’t going to give up easily, it would be easier to get Spot out of there than their very tough and agile Miss Kitty. “We should, but let’s not,” Kiss.
“Okay.”
Kiss.
It took five more minutes before Anya came through and had a reason to wonder about the priorities of lesbians. She said something about beds, as well as whatever Miss Kitty and Spot were doing in there. But Willow and Tara really weren’t paying enough attention to know what she meant.
-----------------------------------
*What on earth is that?* Miss Kitty’s ears were pricked and her eyes were wide as she watched the soft man bring in a brown squirming thing on a lead. Into her territory. Humans never ceased to surprise her. She was rather fond of the man, as humans who weren’t one of her two ‘mommies’ went. He had a nice soft lap and was, generally, respectful to her without thinking he had any rights or privileges for having know her when she’d been smaller. His mate could be a bit unpredictable, leaping up suddenly or making loud noises which disturbed her naps, but the man was always quiet and gentle. Neither of them had been around for a while, but she remembered everyone.
And how they’d treated her.
This man had never dropped her, or stood on her tail though inattention and being too big. He’d always saved interesting tidbits of food from the table for her as well. He hadn’t been around much lately but he was here now and Miss Kitty was glad to see him. She thought she might be peckish by the time they ate later on and he was always good for a taste of what the humans were eating before it was scraps. Scraps were beneath her dignity – which didn't stop her from taking them away to eat them. The prospect of a taste was why she was paying particular attention, from her sleeping spot on the windowsill, of everything he did now he was here.
She’d even turned her head to watch him out of the window which as grand a demonstration of her interest as she could think of. She’d moved.
*It’s a dog.* She thought of that word with a singular contempt, not having much time for the stupid creatures, or even a desire to think about them much. They certainly weren’t on a par with cats. Miss Kitty didn’t even like other cats very much – except for when she had an itch she couldn’t scratch.
She’d made sure that dogs knew this was her ground as soon as she’d moved here and she’d made sure they knew they shouldn’t leave little messages on her lawn or expect her to run for their amusement either. Some still bore the marks of her claws from when she had to teach their lessons somewhat forcefully. Their noses were just so large and shiny – how could she do anything other than scratch them until they did as she bid them do? And once they had learned their lesson she’d turned to those of her own kind… her kind, perhaps, but in no way her equals.
Her attention turned to the brown furry individual currently snuffling on her living room floor. It was brown, and small, but with big feet and ears. It didn’t seem to have any feline grace at all, falling over its own feet on the rug.
*It is a young dog.*
Not a very young dog, but still clumsy and stupid. Doglike, in fact. Young enough not to have been let out and to have learned about cats at least. And about its own inferiority to all things feline.
She didn’t move. She could see just fine from where she was. She just watched the creature scampering around. Her tail curling slowly back and forth was the only outward sign of her attention. Everyone seemed to be paying attention to the dog for some reason. That irritated her. If there was anything more important than her around then she wanted it gone post haste.
She had a position to maintain in her own territory.
Then it noticed her. It dashed up to the window and ‘woofed’ enthusiastically. Not trying to scare her off, which would have resulted in her displeasure, but instead just seeming happy to see her.
Happy?
Miss Kitty slowly stood, keeping her dignity as she looked down upon the over excited creature jumping up below her. At least it was trying to jump up. It got up ok, but the downward trip seemed to end up with it on its bum rather than on its hind feet. Not that it would let that little setback stop it. It just kept trying to get up to the fascinating thing on the windowsill.
She could see how she could be seen as fascinating. She was a cat after all… Her mommies were fascinated by her. They loved pussy.
*Hello, hello. I’ve been in the car for aggggeeees. Wanna play? I wanna play. Huh, huh, huh. I love to play. What are you? Huh, huh, huh.* Briefly she considered taking a swipe at its nose, but then it would have got all upset and the door was closed so she'd be stuck in here with it getting lots of sympathy. It huffed and woofed at Miss Kitty until the man stepped in and picked it up. “Spot. You have to leave Miss Kitty alone. She doesn’t want to play. She’s a big kitty.”
*Too right I don’t want to play. Not with a dog. That would be soooo undignified and beneath me.* Miss Kitty hissed at the little dog thing.
*Awwwww. But, but, but, I’m a good dog. Yes I am. Good doggie. Huh, huh, huh.* Spot panted back, disappointed at being deprived of his new playmate. He’d heard about cats in his meeting other dogs classes. They called it something else, but it was meeting other dogs. He liked meeting other dogs and cats were just smaller dogs. He was a small dog and small dogs got to play.
So the cat should play too. Spot knew he was a clever boy to have worked that out. A clever boy and a good boy. He was told that a lot – unless he whoopsied but he hadn’t done that for ages. He went outside now for that.
Miss Kitty studiously ignored him as she settled back on the windowsill and deliberately contemplated the view outside. *Juvenile delinquent.* She thought as her attention was captured by something darting among the bushes. *If I ignore this dog, perhaps it will go away.* She carefully curled herself up and after a brief scan of the outside world which was her domain, dozed off into another nap.
*************
When she woke up from her nap on the windowsill all seemed quiet. No sign of the boisterous intruder who’d come into her territory. Miss Kitty sat up and proceeded to groom herself, licking away the rough spots that had gotten messed up as she slept. A cat should always appear well groomed or act as if it is. It was one of the unwritten laws of felinity which she was naturally aware of. Once her toilette was complete she jumped down and headed for the kitchen to see if her mommies had left anything interesting in her dish for her. Because she was perfectly capable of feeding herself there was no formal dinner time when they put things in her bowl. She wasn’t expecting the furry ball that bowled her over though.
*Play now? Huh, Huh?* A snuffling nose pressed wetly against her face after she’d been capsized.
Miss Kitty righted herself in a seamless movement and crouched threateningly, hissing as she did so, ready to lash out if this stupid dog didn't realize what it was doing very quickly and stop it right away.
Spot stopped and looked. *Gee! That’s neat. How do you make that noise?* His tail wagged like a feral fan. Animal… *I can make neat noises too!! Rrrrufff!*
Miss Kitty was singularly unimpressed. She raised one paw, claws extended. Threatening.
Spot regarded her puppy enthusiasm. *I know that game!!! My master plays that with me!!!* He raised his paw up. *High five Spot!*
Master…? Dog’s were just so… owned.
She had her mommies who did things for her and gave her the attention she required, but she didn't belong to anyone. No one at all.
Idiotic canine species.
Miss Kitty shook her head and lowered the paw. This was a waste of time, as well as being somewhat undignified. The dog thing was too young to understand the subtleties. Yes, it had been locked up in the car for a while, but how was that her fault? So, she decided to be blunt. *NO! I DO NOT WANT TO PLAY.* She hissed again, then with feline grace she leapt onto Spot’s back like a stepping stone – raking him lightly with her claws, then off again onto the floor and out the cat door in the sure and certain knowledge that the annoying creature was put firmly in its place.
Spot just sat there, feeling like he’d been told he was a very bad dog. He whimpered a little, lay his little head on his paws and looked rather dejected . . . until he forgot all about it and fell asleep. It was dark outside, he was supposed to be asleep. And it had all been so exciting. New people. New places and a bad tempered cat.
****************
Three hours later and it was getting late as they’d just finished playing a game of monopoly. It had been Anya’s suggestion and she hadn’t liked it when she’d been forced to mortgage all her properties to pay off Willow. An honorable second place, Tara, Xander, Dawn and Sam already being bankrupt, hadn’t been good enough for Anya. It was gone one a.m. now and Tara had to admit she was tired. She definitely wasn’t up to a rematch, nor was she leaving Willow here to play with Anya alone. She was bone tired and still hadn’t really caught up from being away either. She needed Willow to get a good nights sleep.
She just didn't sleep when she didn't have Willow beside her. It was a question of comfort – she couldn’t get comfortable without Willow there to snuggle up to. Talking of sleep though, Willow had just shown Sam and Dawn to their room again – even though they knew exactly where it was – and pointed the bathroom and their towels out for them.
For a moment she wondered whether, subconsciously, she and Willow – who had been desperate to be together – had actually agreed to stay up because they didn't want to find out just what Dawn and Sam might mean to each other by hearing it through the walls.
Of course, that still might happen but realistically both the girls had looked much too tired for anything except falling asleep. They’d driven and ridden along way today. There was still the question of whether they would do the falling asleep thing together, as she and Willow would do, or just as two people who happened to be in the same bed. The truth was that Tara really didn't care – though she had to admit she was fascinated – so long as Dawn was happy.
More to the point she wanted Dawn to tell her. She certainly didn't want to find out through the interconnecting wall. It lacked… it lacked the best qualities of the kind of relationship they’d always felt they had with Dawnie.
And knew they still had.
Dawn would tell them if there was anything to tell and she was able to.
The way Sam had teased Dawn into heading to bed… It was much like she might have done with Willow, but… equally she might have done that to Dawn too, just in a friendly rather than playful way.
This whole speculation thing was silly, but she couldn’t help it for knowing that.
She needed to get to bed with Willow. They needed to take advantage of some alone…
Time.
Tara sighed as she looked back into the living room.
This really wasn't working out.
Now Willow was asleep on the couch.
Asleep as in zonked out. As in snoring.
“Can’t you shut her up?” Anya asked as she held Spot back from going to check out the soft snores which were obviously new sounds to him.
Spot had been chastened by Miss Kitty, but it appeared their cat had other things to do with her night than stay and keep him in line. After chastising him, she’d walked out of the cat flap with her tail high and full of pride in putting the dog who was already twice her size in its proper place.
“Me?” Tara hissed.
“She’s your girlfriend,” Anya insisted.
“You can’t shut Willow up once she starts to snore,” Xander said and then realized just what he’d said.
Anya looked at him.
Tara looked at him.
“So they say,” he added carefully and slowly. So there had been sleepovers and Oz had confirmed it much later. He’d never asked Tara for her opinion on the subject but venturing his own now, in front of Anya, might not have been the best idea.
“Well, don’t you say it anymore,” Anya instructed in a harsh whisper which Tara could hear all too clearly.
“No honey,” Xander lowered his eyes, much as Spot had when Miss Kitty Fantastico had scared the crap out of him. Almost literally, but you had to respect his control in waiting until he’d gotten outside.
“Willow’s gay now,” Anya finished off the topic with a finality that would not be broached.
Tara looked at her friend. What the heck did that have to do with anything? But then Anya had such strange impressions of what… well, not what being a lesbian was, but rather what it meant. And often what not being a lesbian meant for Anya herself. There had been that whole thing before with the beds… “Will, turn on your side honey,” Tara said, knowing it would solve the problem.
In one sense she was proud she could accomplish what no one else ever had, but then there was the imminent danger of Willow rolling right off the couch. Fortunately she rolled the other way – to face the back cushions.
Then there was a glint in the eye of the magic box owner. “You know, Tara, it would be a shame to move her now.”
“Hmm?” Tara said as she watched her lover breathe softly. Rising and falling chest… lovely.
“Well,” Anya continued, sensing the opportunity whilst her friend was caught up in appreciating Willow. “She could stay here, resting peacefully as she is.”
“And come up later, thank you Anya, that’s sweet.” Not perfect because Tara had wanted Willow with her, but it was generous of Anya to suggest Willow could stay here for now until she awake naturally. Uncharacteristically generous, after all the hoohah over the bedding arrangements earlier. Perhaps Anya was trying to make up for that now.
“No, no, no! That’s not the plan. I was thinking more that Xander and I could have you bed and you stay here on the sofa bed. When Willow wakes up she can pull it out and join her.” Anya beamed.
“Why?” Tara wondered, still caught up in Willow’s chest.
“We might want to have sex in the morning,” Anya told her. “It’s too late now, but sometimes when Xander wakes up I like to –”
“Okay…” Xander said in his often used, plainly embarrassed, voice. “Thank you Ahn for that wonderful offer to Tara. Now we’ll go have a wash whilst Tara takes Willow upstairs.”
He could be very firm when he wanted to be – at least as Anya told it when no one had really asked. Whenever she could. He led his wife away, snagging their wash bag as they left the room and left Tara with Willow. Tara knew she was going to have to wake this sleepyhead up and it pained her, but what choice was there?
“Why –”
“Ahn, I love you but just walk okay?”
Tara smiled as they left and went kneel next to the couch where Willow was resting and leaned over to blow in her ear. “Will, honey…”
A moan.
“Will, time to move baby.”
“Nnnnn….” Willow resisted without being aware of it.
“Yes, sweetie. Time to come to bed,” Tara told her.
“Nnnnn…” Still fighting the inevitable.
“I’ll tell you a story if you come to bed,” Tara whispered. She wasn’t at all convinced Willow was still as sound asleep as she pretended to be. She was just comfy…At least until Anya and Xander came back.
“Hmm?” came the reaction to the offer.
Oh yes, Willow was awake – at least partially. “Once upon a time there was a beautiful red haired princess who refused to come to bed when her blonde lover told her to.”
“Hmm?” Willow prompted.
“And she got no honey for her breakfast…” Tara said.
Immediately Willow rolled over, still sleepy but definitely awake girl, her eyes all distressed at the fate of the poor princess. “No honey?”
“None at all. Not a sniff,” Tara told her.
“And if she came to bed when she was told to?” Willow said over a yawn. “She got her honey…”
“All the honey she ever wanted,” Tara promised with all sincerity she could find in her heart. Not just her heart. Perhaps with the little sleep Willow had just had, it might even be tonight? Maybe it had taken the edge of the tiredness…
Maybe…
Willow sat up and looked at Tara kneeling before her… Tara knew the look. She knew the look very well. It was Willow wondering. And any other night they could have stayed right here. Many other nights they had done. “Anya and Xander are going to be right back,” she said with a smile.
Willow relented from her imagined opportunity. There was always the morning, because the truth be told, she was still very sleepy. She just reached forward to stroke Tara’s hair.
And of course that was when Anya came back in.
“Look, if you want to be all intimate and lesbian, please take it upstairs,” she said. It wasn’t fair. They had their own bed, just because they were lesbians, and they wanted to use the couch here too? Before they got a real bed?
Anya was sure Sam and Dawn must have been up to something by now as well. This should be a heterosexual floor if they couldn’t have a real bed upstairs. She and Xander, Spot and Miss Kitty. Heterosexuals needed their space. Room to be together without people looking at them and tittering at the funny hetero’s doing the silly hetero things.
Besides, she didn't want Xander gawping at these two.
He couldn’t go off and be a lesbian. She wasn’t going to let him. He was her man. She didn’t understand why men had this fascination with lesbians when they were just so inaccessible to their entire sex? That was the whole point of it. They all were all supposed to hate men!
Except for their friends obviously.
But Xander hated men too. Well, not hated men, he had male friends, but he didn’t love any of them. He loved women. Anya’s eyes narrowed. He loved one woman. Her – and it better stay that way. Did that make him a sort of lesbian too? The fractured sideways logic of the thought was beginning to give Anya a headache. Why did she even have to think about this?
And now there were two more recruits under this very roof. From a heterosexual woman’s point of view, lesbians were a very good thing – Anya had always thought so anyway. Specifically it left her Xander without Willow interference, but it also meant that should anything bad happen to him – and she knew bad things could happen having been a vengeance demon – there were more men for her out there. Replacements and a certain number of those men had to be cute… if not as cute as her husband.
Yay for lesbians!
“It’s okay Anya, we’re going,” Tara said with a smile as she helped Willow up. Her lover seemed a little inflexible with the stiffness even a brief sleep had brought. They might have to work on that.
“Don’t feel you have to rush,” Xander joked as he came up behind Anya and pinched her behind, delighted to see her jump in shock.
“Mr Harris!” she accused him in her most serious tone.
“Mrs Harris,” he said in a low voice. It might have been intended to be husky, but mainly it was just low.
Tara knew she’d somehow found herself in the early stages of one of their sex games… It was definitely time to go.
“Shoo, you two,” Anya said swatting at them. “Go upstairs with the rest of the lesbians and leave this man to me.”
“Good night,” Willow groaned as she was led away by Tara.
“Night,” Tara said and pulled the door closed. Then she realized what Anya had said.
“Wait a moment,” Xander said… “You said with the rest of the lesbians?”
“Yes, Mr Harris, Sam is lesbian,” Anya announced.
“Sam is a lesbian?” he repeated.
“You know you have to call me Mrs Harris,” Anya complained as Tara groaned. “It’s no fun if you don’t. Dawn is one too though, so there are an even number.”
“Dawn?”
“Yes, Mr Harris – now play along. Call me Mrs Harris. ”
“Dawn is a lesbian?”
“Yes Mister Harris,” Anya said slowly and deliberately emphasizing the title.
Tara knew she had to do something about this. She had to stop Xander from opening a mouth that could fit several feet into it when morning came. “But you can’t say anything,” she said poking her head back through the door. “We’re not sure.”
“We’re not sure Mister Harris” Anya insisted and pushed the door closed. “Now come here, Mister Harris.”
Tara beat a hasty retreat before she had chance to witness anything at all, even just aurally.
“Dawn? Our Dawn?” was the last thing she heard Xander say.
*****************************
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If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with. Chance in Chance.
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Edited by: Katharyn at: 12/20/03 10:47 am
) The "pinging" conversation, LOL that was great!
and Miss Kitty
Too funny.
And yes, you are a tease!!
.
. 
