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yes, finally an update. and I have a lot of catching up to do on the feedback front so here goes:
mollyig yeah, I think S4 Tara's self-worth is so low she can't imagine someone like Willow being interested. and I had to stop wearing a watch because of my OC time-checking.
amberbensontotallyrules there will be smoochies...promise.
snuggle but I love Willowbabble so... overidentify much?
hotfoot and I thank you again
jd thank you and yes I remember paper airplanes. actually, I delurked (or is that I was deflowered) for paper airplanes. so it holds a special place in my...um...heart. yeah.
centauri thank you for the cool feedback! and yes, I'm gonna try to do the everyone has a go fic (though I still think it sounds like an orgy fic) if RL would just stop kicking my ass for a second!!
misscalendar thanks. yeah, I think there was a bit of false advertising involved in that angst-free statement. there's angst, it's just not of the love of your life-shot-through-the-heart variety.
ack! and you posted again before I could respond. I love the parallels you're finding between the fics and I miss S4 Willow too!!!
grimlock yes, poor little straight girl Willow was locked in her hetero rut. it didn't help that her world at the time was dominated by ex-Oz and buffy/riley. and believe it or not, I'm kind of drawing on person experience for a lot of this angsty tension. of course, it's all exaggerated to fit the buffyverse.
katydid thanks for reading!
antigone hey mary, I feel like we're sisters in this weird way since we both posted our first fics at the same time. glad the tension is working. and faith in leather isn't my idea of hell either but...
aiscool yeah, I try to keep that image of Tara trying to give Willow the doll's eye crystal in my mind. that kind of sums it all up for me. clueless willow and crushed Tara.
pikescoob sorry for the lack of angst warning. there will be more, but our girls will work it out
kukalaka thanks and they won't suffer for too long. but Tara's suffered a lot longer than Willow. Willow's just gotta figure things out and all will be good.
missquirky thanks! and yes, it will all be good...eventually.
barnabasvamp thanks. I take pride in my love of willowbabble.
xita WOW! so glad you liked it. I was hoping you'd stop by and yes, you're right, it's definitely going to hinder for a while. then again, maybe Willow just needs time...
okay, on with the fic...
Part IV
"—some kind of time loop!"
The bright sunlight of a late California afternoon lit the world around her, which couldn’t be right because it was night and…the time machine. Her eyes, she discovered, were scanning a group of dangerously perfect sorority girls and she was walking. Walking in the quad and talking. Or at least she had been until she had interrupted herself.
So I must be walking with someone. Walking and talking…only I’m doing most of the talking. Willow slowly became aware of a warm arm and shoulder gently bumping against her own as they walked. She knew without looking that it was Tara. Each moment of contact made her shiver, made the air around them hum. What is going on? If it’s a time machine shouldn’t I be going back in time as myself or something. I mean, I should be standing here in my robe with wet hair and…this seems really familiar.
She slowed to a halt.
"Willow?"
Wow. Does she know what my name sounds like on her lips? What her mouth does to those two syllables? Rolling them on her tongue like…
"Willow?" …that.
Willow closed her eyes and swallowed as she turned to face Tara, opening her eyes to an amused smile on the blonde’s face. Tara’s eyes were bright blue and there were no tears.
"Um…what was I saying?" Willow finally managed.
Tara smiled and dipped her head, looking up through her hair with a glint in her eyes that could only be described as mischievous.
"Well, it started out as a d-diatribe against SUVs and g-greenhouse emissions and then I think it veered into something about f-frogs and the fragility of the food chain…" she bumped Willow’s arm with her own playfully, "and then s-suddenly we were on to time loops."
"So, your basic, generic Willow babble."
SUVs and frogs, we’re in the quad… and is she flirting with me?
Tara ducked her head and laughed and Willow felt as if the world was made of helium. As if every molecule in her body had suddenly decided to spontaneously change states from a solid to a gas. Everything in Willow wanted to float away with that laugh.
"Oh, uh, I don’t think anything about you is generic," the shy blonde said finally without a stutter, holding green eyes for several moments.
Okay, shake it off…this is Tara. She doesn’t flirt. And especially not with you. We have firmly established that you would never be the flirt-ee where Tara is concerned.
She studied Tara’s clothes for some clue as to where or when they were. Grey cargo pants and a baseball shirt with those cute orange Pumas. Okay, that’s no help. Oh, oh! Watch! She checked the date and went back through her mental rolodex for some kind of reference, but came up blank. The fourteenth. The fourteenth. That’s almost a month ago, which means…
Someone in a dorm to her left chose that moment to blast a Dingo’s song at top volume and it all fell into place. The quad, the fourteenth. She could now picture the page in her filofax, which was currently adding about fifty pounds of weight to her thousand pound backpack: ‘twenty pages of Tess’ written in green because England was all with the green bucolic scenes; ‘ChemLab’ in gold because of the traditional ties to alchemy of course; and ‘spells with Tara’ written in big purple letters outlined in pink.
So that means…oh, that’s right! I hear the Dingo’s song and go all weepy and we go back to Tara’s dorm room and she makes me tea…oh God, and I go on and on and on about Oz for, like, a week. No wonder she’s not interested in me.
She returned her attention to her surroundings and listened intently to the broken strains of the familiar song…and nothing. She felt nothing.
It’s not even a very good song…
"Are you o-okay?"
But I’m back in time so if I change anything it could lead to an apocalypse, or someone could die or the Republicans could take the White House. So I have to do everything exactly the same. But how am I gonna do that? I’ve already done things differently.
She sucked in an enormous breath and steeled herself for an Oscar-worthy performance.
Okay, time to get with the crying. I am all about the crying and weeping…starting now…
She waited for the tears, but there was nothing. Finally, she brought a picture of Oz to her mind: that night he had rejected her followed closely by and image of Oz and Veruca naked together. It was painful and she felt her face flush with humiliation, but there were still no tears. The overwhelming grief she had harbored for so long seemed to have evaporated. Her eyes were completely dry and seemed to have a mind of their own as they drifted to Tara’s soft features, her lovely smile that was rapidly fading. Those perfect lips curved in a soft line….
Was it always like this…with the heat…down there… and the… oh my! Willow winced at her own lascivious thoughts and disturbing involuntary physical response. Tara’s smile faded a bit more.
"It’s a Dingo’s song," she offered quickly and then tried to frown with sadness.
The blonde reached out automatically, placing her hand on the bare skin of Willow’s arm.
"I’m sorry. Are you okay?"
"Mmm-hmmm," came Willow’s distracted reply. Cry already! The future of the planet rests on your shoulders. Okay, maybe you’re overestimating your importance in the grand scheme of things here…
"D-do you want to g-g-go to m-my r-r-r…" Tara stopped abruptly and closed her eyes, frustrated by her inability to speak clearly.
"I’d love to go to your room Tara," Willow said gently and placed her hand over Tara’s. The blonde’s face turned bright red and she looked around nervously before removing her hand from Willow’s.
They walked through Tara’s dorm in silence. The hallways were identical to those in her own dorm. Not the warmth of wood or stone just non-descript plaster and concrete. Modern design – the curse of a California upbringing.
Willow noticed that Tara glanced her way often, smiling brightly when Willow’s eyes met hers.
Even under the horrible fluorescent lighting she was luminous. Yes, that’s it…Tara glows.
They stopped in front Tara’s door and she began nervously fishing for her keys.
Deja-vu. Well, of course déjà vu. You really have been here before. And you need to get with the program. Everything has to be the same. So far, you’re not crying, you’re busy checking her out and getting all hot and bothered…oh god, the world is so doomed.
As the blonde fumbled through her bag, Willow noticed the note on the door. She didn’t dare look directly at it, but she could see a large heart and the name Aly written in red felt tip.
Jeez how may girls are after her? Not that they shouldn’t be, but…no they shouldn’t be!
Tara gave her a weak smile as she carefully took the note down and placed it in her bag without even glancing at it.
Okay, enough with the sidetracking, you need to figure out how to get out of here…or get out of now and back to the real now…where Tara can barely look at you.
Willow sighed audibly and the blonde turned to her again, her face full of concern as she opened the door to the room.
"Are you okay?"
"Yep. Peachy," the redhead said without conviction and then walked past Tara into her room. The smell of it was overwhelming. It was everything about Tara, and more. Tea, incense, and flowers. Every smell that signaled comfort and beauty. Just like the blonde.
"Hey," she felt Tara nudge her arm gently. "You’re awfully s-smiley."
Tara sure is touching me a lot. Not, like, big touches, just little things. Did she always do that?
"Yeah?" Willow asked absently and then realized that she was smiling. Far too much. "Oh, I just…I love… you know, your room. It makes me forget…everything."
Okay, the crying…think sad thoughts. Like the way Tara looked at you in the hallway before…
She felt the muscles in her forehead tighten at the thought of the terrible confrontation in the hall. And in Tara’s room.
"Do you want some t-tea?"
"Yes. Please." Willow managed finally and watched as the blonde took off her backpack and began her careful preparations. Well, at least that was right. Tea. Maybe she could get this whole timeline back on track before too much damage was done.
What am I doing? Oh yeah, Oz talk. Lots and lots of Oz talk.
As she lowered herself to sit cross-legged on the floor, her eyes wandered to the blonde’s slender hands as they carefully arranged cups and tea bags. There was something so graceful about the way Tara did the most normal things. Touching each item reverently as if she was grounding them or making a ritual blessing out of everyday tasks and events. Tasks that Willow had always considered distractions from the important things.
What are the important things?
Hello, back in time here! The important thing is getting back and getting this time back on track which means Oz talk. With crying. Alrighty then, get with the talking and the crying…but what do I say?
"D-do you want to talk about it?" Tara asked as she sat on the floor facing willow, placing the cups of tea between them.
It took the redhead a moment to understand Tara’s question.
"Oh, um, yeah…" she trailed off and accepted a steaming cup of tea from Tara’s hands. "Thanks."
There were several moments of strained silence as they both sipped at their too-hot cups. Willow knew she was expected to say something, a lot of something about Oz. A lot of something about Oz. How much do I talk about him anyway?
"Um, Tara, do I talk about Oz a lot…I mean, when I’m with you?"
The question obviously surprised the blonde, but she recovered quickly and looked thoughtful, her head tilting slightly to the left.
She is sooooo cute.
F-word! Remember the f-word you pervert! She’s a cute friend…and Oz thoughts! Oz!
"Um, define a l-lot."
Willow sank into herself in embarrassment, staring down into the cup of pale green. I am so annoying…no wonder she doesn’t like me. Who would like a geeky girl who won’t shut up about her ex-boyfriend?
"I do, don’t I?" she shook her red head angrily. "God, I am such a jerk…I’m sorry, I promise I’ll stop…"
Her angry rant was interrupted by the warm pressure of Tara’s hand on her arm. Raising her head to meet blue eyes she felt the room begin to spin around them.
"It’s okay Willow. Really." Tara smiled and squeezed her arm gently before withdrawing. "Your friends are b-busy and I know you need to…you know…talk a-about it so…"
"No it’s not okay! ‘Cause that’s their job I mean, if you knew how many times I’ve had to listen to ‘it’s so horrible my boyfriend’s a vampire with a soul’ and…" she finally noticed the look of astonished amusement on the blonde’s face. "But, um, that’s another story and that’s not what I want to talk about anyway…friends or the lack thereof or whatever. Because I want it to be different with you. I don’t want to be your friend…" Willow’s breath caught in her throat at her slip. "In that way!" she covered hastily with far too much volume. "That annoying, whiny way of being a friend."
Willow felt utterly defeated as she took another sip of the scalding hot tea. Her overactive mouth was normally a terror for her, but when she got around the blonde she seemed to lose all control over the part of her brain that managed speech. And more importantly the switch that told her when to stop speaking. She sighed heavily and stole a glance at the blonde expecting that look of confused disappointment or derision that she had faced so many times in her life, but the look on Tara’s face was something brand new. Her lips were turned up slightly in a look of soft amusement and there were lines between her eyebrows, as if she was studying the redhead carefully, thoughtfully. As if she were looking for something.
"Okay, s-so what do you want to talk about?" Tara asked, her smile widening and Willow knew without a doubt what she wanted to talk about, what she had been avoiding with the defensive chatter for so many weeks.
Oz! You’re supposed to be talking about Oz.
"You." Willow said simply and watched in growing panic as the blonde closed in on herself, lowering her head to hide behind her hair.
"Oh, um, like w-what?"
"Well, anything 'cause you know thanks to all my Oz whining, I’m realizing I don’t know that much about you."
The blonde bit her lip and clutched at her tea cup with white knuckles. "Um, well, what d-do you w-want to know?"
"Well, okay, I’ve spent hours and hours talking about my ex-boyfriend," Oh my god! Don’t do it!, that little voice screamed at her. "And I don’t know anything about your, you know, love life or whatever." You are so going to hell. Tara’s face turned bright red and Willow’s stomach flipped in response, but she couldn’t seem to stop. "So did you have a boyfriend or a, um, significant other or whatever…in high school?"
The redhead took another sip of tea in a vain attempt to calm herself and waited. Her foot, she noticed was fidgeting wildly so she adjusted her position to sit on the unruly appendage.
"N-no…I didn’t have a b-boyfriend," Tara offered quietly without looking up. Willow waited patiently hoping for more, but there was just silence. The redhead could feel the renegade foot begin to fidget underneath her and cursed at it silently.
Finally, Tara raised her face slowly finally meeting Willow’s eyes in an intense stare.
"I, um, had a g-girlfriend…s-sort of," she said holding green eyes for several heartbeats before looking down.
The redhead took a long deep breath and wiped her palms on her jeans. She felt dizzy, drained. And worse, she felt like she was lying to Tara even though she wasn’t. Technically.
"Oh, what was her name?" she somehow managed to ask without screaming.
"Aly." The blonde offered with a shrug and then took a sip of tea and Willow’s entire body began to shake. The note. The heart in red felt tip. "She’s in your Chem Lab I th-think."
"She’s here?" the redhead squeaked and then struggled to regain her composure. "Is that weird for you?"
The blonde shook her head and rose to refill their tea cups. Willow began furiously cataloging the faces in her Chem Lab, searching for this Aly girl who probably still had designs on shy, perfect, beautiful, defenseless Tara.
"No, w-we’re friends."
"Oh. That’s cool," she replied absently and then checked her watch. She had a sudden urge to run back to their dorm room to check the Freshman Register for this Aly girl before the Scooby meeting.
"You’re not f-freaked…about the gay thing?" the blonde asked carefully as she returned to her seat on the floor facing Willow.
"No." So not freaked about the gay thing. Wish I could tell you how much I’m not freaked about the gay thing ‘cause then you’d know that we both like girls or at least I like one girl and, hey, we’re both girls and…it wouldn’t matter because you don’t like this particular girl anyway. But you liked some girl name Aly who writes in big loopy letters and I can’t even remember her face!
There was another long, awkward silence as the two studied the contents of their cups again. Willow was still struggling with the image of this ex-girlfriend. She could remember every desk and cabinet in the room. But this girl was somehow eluding her.
This is so not important! You need to get to the Scooby meeting and talk to Buffy and Giles. They’ll help you figure this out before you do any more damage.
"Um, it’s almost six thirty. We could order a p-pizza and s-study if you want?" the blonde asked hopefully.
And she wanted to more than anything, but there was the meeting. Not to mention the fact that this was all wrong. She had already done enough damage to this timeline. It was time for research.
"I, um…" but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. To say no. Because she absolutely, positively wanted to stay here with Tara forever.
If she’d let me…
And then she remembered the terrible events that lead her to this place, this wrong time and blushed.
"I-It’s okay Willow…" Tara said shaking her head, her face turning down.
"No. It’s just that I have this Scooby meeting at seven and…I can’t, you know, duty calls," she finished, her face hardening into a frown.
Tara just nodded and Willow realized suddenly that Tara hadn’t touched her since the gay thing came up. And now the blonde was sitting farther away, all of the smile disappearing from her eyes.
I did it again, didn’t I?
Maybe she thinks I’m going to hit on her? Or that I think she’s going to hit on me?
I wish…
But we’re just friends.
The alarm on her watch went off suddenly startling them both. Twenty minutes to get to Giles. But Tara.
Later. You can’t change anything. The important thing is getting back.
"O-Okay. Maybe t-tomorrow?" the blonde managed, but Willow could see the pain written there in hard lines.
Later...
"Definitely…"
Before you do any more damage…
And the world stretched out again, expanding the space between them exponentially with each heartbeat.
Just friends….
"Tomorrow."
But the word was lost as time pooled around her and the world receded.
Again.
to be continued...
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, finish writing one season at a time sounds like the safest option. but then again i'm not the writer. hehe... hugs! 
. I really like this last update Willows internal dialouge was very much like I would have imagined it, I could visualize AH and AB playing out this scene very well, great job.
I can't wait for more 
) still, I am on board for both stories now, gotta see our willster through!