Author-fluffylamb A.K.A Kerry
Rating-PG13 at its absolute friskiness
Disclaimer-I am borrowing little boy Joss Whedon's creations for a while. As long as nobody sends me any money for this, things should be good from a legal standpoint.
Feedback-Sure, but please be nice; it's my first fic. If you're mean to me, I'll key your car.
Summary-Nighty-night time for two exhausted college students.
Notes-Many thanks to Rocci, my faboo beta reader, and to Maudmac for technical advice.
Prologue
Tara sat in bed, propped up by a pile of pillows, textbooks open around her and class notes in her lap. Miss Kitty was curled against the warmth of Tara’s hips, keeping the blonde company while she studied. Tara finished writing her papers for Comparative Religion and 18th Century Literature a few hours ago and now only an exam in Art History stood between her and a weekend full of nothing but sleep and naked Willow.
Resting her hand on the furry bundle against her side, the blond glanced at the desk across the room. It was empty. Tara sighed wistfully. Her beloved redhead was across campus in the computer lab finishing a program. She and Willow had hardly seen each other at all this week. Through some diabolical conspiracy, they both had major assignments or tests in three of their classes due the next day.
Tara had the luxury of being able to do most of her work in their room, while Willow spent her day running across campus. Her morning was spent in class. Her entire afternoon was occupied by chemistry lab. After that, she had what was probably the most onerous part of her day: a visit to her parents’ house to have some forms signed. Unfortunately, the fax machine at the Rosenberg house was down, requiring Willow to make a personal appearance at her childhood home. Following that was a study group for the follow day’s calculus exam, then off to the computer lab.
It was a bit past 10:30 when Willow finally returned to their room. She shed her book bag, jacket and shoes before wordlessly flopping face down on the bed at Tara’s feet. Tara bit her lip to keep from laughing at Willow’s dramatic display of exhaustion. Miss Kitty was less amused at the disturbance. She leapt lightly from the bed in search of something of the redhead’s to destroy. Tara closed her books and put them on her nightstand before reaching over and rubbing Willow’s back. “Tired, sweetie?”
“Oh God. Dip me in blood and throw me to the vampires. I can’t take this course load anymore.”
“Ewww, Willow, that’s disgusting!” Tara’s nosed wrinkled in distaste and she swatted her lover’s bottom. “You’ve been on the Hellmouth way too long.”
“Hey! I know. I know. I’m sorry. Is it Friday afternoon yet?” she moaned piteously into the covers.
“Almost, Will. Almost. About twelve more h-hours and then it’s you, me, this bed and the can of whipped cream in the fridge. How’s that sound?”
“Mmmmmm,” Willow purred. She turned onto her side and caught Tara’s hand in hers. She delicately kissed each fingertip before pressing her lips firmly against the palm. Tara slid her hand over Willow’s cheek as the redhead answered, “That sounds absolutely wonderful, baby. After a good, long afternoon nap.”
“How were your, um, your parents?” Tara asked. An angry look flashed across Willow’s face as she sat up. She stood and immediately began to pace. Tara winced, regretting the question before Willow even began to speak.
“My mom was on the way out the door when I got there. It’s lucky that I was there earlier than I told them I’d be. Mom was all like, ‘Oh Willow, what a surprise, dear.’ Hello! How many messages did I leave them this week? Four? Five? Dad wasn’t even home. I needed five minutes of their time. Five frickin’ minutes!” She sat down heavily on the edge of the bed with slumped shoulders. She turned sad, lost green eyes toward Tara, “Why is it so hard for them to be there? Just a little bit? Why can’t they ever. . .” Her voice trailed off as she looked down at her hands.
“Hey. Come here,” Tara said softly, reaching out and gathering her girlfriend in her arms. She rocked the exhausted woman, letting the gentle motion soothe them both.
Tara harbored more hostility toward Sheila and Ira Rosenberg than she cared to admit to Willow. She resented how indifferent they were toward the sensitive child they brought into the world, the child who was forced to raise herself since parenting obviously conflicted with the Rosenbergs’ schedules. Then there was that little almost burning Willow at the stake incident. Although she encouraged Willow to maintain a relationship with her parents, Tara’s own feelings toward them were cool at best.
Willow closed her eyes and let the embrace comfort her. She preferred venting to Buffy about her frustration with her parents. She always felt guilty for ranting about her mom and dad to Tara. She felt ungrateful for not appreciating her family more when she considered what Tara’s home life had been like. At least Willow’s parents were still alive and never made her believe she was an evil demon. Invisible maybe, but not a demon.
“Mom asked about you,” she said quietly, toying with the thin, silky strap of Tara’s nightgown.
“Hmmm?”
“While she was signing the papers on the porch, she said, ‘Are you still seeing that Tara girl?’ Um, yeah, mom. That love of my life, most amazing woman in the whole world, can’t get enough of her ‘Tara girl?’ Yeah, still seein’ her. At least she got your name right. That’s encouraging, I guess.” Her bitterness was evident in her voice.
Tara looked down at Willow. There were dark circles under her eyes and blotches of color on her cheeks from her slowly ebbing anger at her parents. “Baby? You’re tired. Why don’t you get into your pajamas and come to bed? I left your favorites over on the chair.”
Willow nodded and got up to change. Willow took off her clothes and dropped them in the laundry basket. Tara briefly regretted the suggestion of the pajamas. Her eyes lingered appreciatively over Willow’s bare body before the redhead slipped on her obnoxious pink cow print jammies. The redhead washed her face and brushed her teeth at the room’s sink. Tara tossed the extra pillows to the floor and turned off the reading lamp as Willow climbed under the covers of their warm bed.
The lovers lay on their sides, facing each other in the dark. Willow traced the shape of Tara’s lush mouth with her fingertips, while Tara ran her hand through Willow’s silky hair.
“You are the most amazing woman in the whole world, Tara. You know that, right?” Willow whispered.
“The whole w-world, huh? I don’t know about that, but I’m content to be the most amazing woman in your world.”
Her hand slid to the back of Willow’s neck and pulled her close for a kiss. Their lips touched lightly, brushed together before the tip of Tara’s tongue traced along Willow’s lips, gently seeking its playmate. Willow gladly allowed the kiss to deepen and the two witches spent several minutes exploring each other’s mouths while their hands explored each other’s bodies. Willow finally pulled back from the kiss and pressed her forehead against Tara’s.
“I still say whole world,” insisted Willow, yawning. "Goodnight, baby.”
“Sleep well, my Willow. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Tara kissed Willow once more before snuggling into her shoulder. She slipped her hand under the pajama top and rubbed Willow’s stomach a few times before settling her arm over her waist.
“Tomorrow night, love.”
“Mmmmm. Whipped cream.”
"In fluent aphasia the subject talks at great length, but are unaware that what they are saying makes no sense."
Art said, "I know a lot of people with that problem." -Kim Stanley Robinson's Blue Mars
at: 10/17/03 9:04 pm
& 
covered in whipped cream 
~~**Monkey Luv**~~
Keep up the great work. 
Love sammi xx 
. Poor Willow deserves so much more attention than those deficient parents of hers seem capable of giving....grrr..... Feeling very sorry for Willow here, yep.