Alright, gang. You can blame Washi for this little revisit to one of my unfinished fics. Thank you for the praise. You see what happens when I am praised? I become industrious... let this be a lesson to all.



The Heart Rules the Mind



By



DarkWiccan



Disclaimers: Willow and Tara and other characters borrowed from the television show “Buffy: The Vampire Slayer” are the property of their creator, Joss Whedon, and his affiliates, Mutant Enemy, Fox, and UPN.



Spoilers: None



Rating: PG-13



Coupling: C’mon, guys, this is me writing, who do you think?



Summary: In a very different Sunnydale, a very different Willow and Tara struggle with their own inner demons to find themselves and each other.



READ ME! Notes: This is my first AU fic. Where you can very easily argue that all fics that diverge from the existing plotline of the show are AU, this is the first fic I have written that departs from show canon almost entirely. This Sunnydale is in “the real world”. The mask-wearing monsters of the week do not exist here.



However, this world is influenced heavily by my own belief system on demons and supernatural entities. The Scooby Gang does live in this world, but there is no such thing as a slayer or a chosen one and end-of-the-world prophecies do not lie in wait around every plot device. Rather, the Scooby Gang, made up of its familiar members, is a group of friends with varying belief systems, but similar experiences with the supernatural that have brought them together. But the relationships established on the show have been, for the most part, completely abandoned.



This story is really more of a character study than anything else. The plot (what there is of it) centers largely on W/T (of course, this is me after all) and as of right now there is no real end. I don’t know where this is going or if it will ever be done. I consider this fic to be a sort of writing exercise for me, and the closest thing to “stream-of-consciousness” that I will ever come to.



Because this fic has no true outline, I apologize in advance for the plot being at best vague. I also warn all of you lovely readers that updates will be few and far between as I plan only on returning to this story as inspiration strikes me, or when I become “blocked” on another fic and use this one to jog my creative muscles.



Right, all that nonsense being said, let’s get on with it.

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Willow Rosenberg sat at her computer typing away, trying to focus on the work in front of her, but finding it increasingly difficult to focus as her thoughts continually strayed to that of her new friend. Well not so much new friend as old-friend/new-crush. She had known Tara Maclay for going on five years now, but only recently had found herself growing more and more fond of the woman, and increasingly attracted. There was just one problem. Willow was gay and Tara was not.



Or at least, Willow didn’t think Tara was gay. It wasn’t as if she had ever seen the golden blonde with another woman. But she had never seen her with a man either. In fact, for as long as Willow had known her, Tara had never even spoken of being interested in anyone, male or female. It was all very confusing for Willow, who now quickly ran her fingers through her red hair in frustration. She had tried everything she could think of to get Tara to divulge the nature of her sexuality, short of bluntly asking her, which is something she could never bring herself to do, and as a result, the redhead continued to live in a state of total bewilderment.



Worse, she felt herself slowly falling in love with the other woman. Which only leant itself to even more catastrophic possibilities of rejection should it turn out that Tara was not gay or, the even more painful alternative, that Tara was gay and simply not interested in Willow.



Willow let out another sigh of frustration and achingly returned her tired brain to the task at hand. She’d figure it out eventually, or at least she could hope.



***



Tara Maclay was scared. Her mother was sick and dying of cancer. Her father was gone, having divorced her mom not a year before. Her younger sister was off in her own teenage world, using the natural teenage mentality of self-importance to protect her from the realities of her mother’s suffering and their broken home. Tara, in her mind, was alone, surviving only on the sense of duty to her family that had been ingrained in her by her mother her entire life.



She diligently carried a small wastebasket with a fresh bag to her mother’s room, removing the soiled one, filled with chemotherapy-induced vomit. Offering her mother a cool drink of water, kissing her forehead, holding her hand. Talking for a little bit of her day, telling her mother lies and embellishments so that she wouldn’t worry that her daughter wasn’t getting out enough and then excusing herself downstairs to clean up, or make dinner, or help her younger sibling with homework.



Tara blinked and found herself sitting halfway downstairs, unaware of how she had stopped there. Merely knowing that she had. The full little trashcan sat next to her, the odorous stench of its contents kept slightly at bay by the bag’s handles being tied tightly in a knot. She was unaware of it for a moment, rubbing her fingers in her tired eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to summon up the energy and the courage to get on with the rest of the day.



She was almost content to just stay there on the steps and she probably would have if it had not been for the sudden jarring sound of the phone ringing. Tara leapt a mile into the air, so startled was she by the noise, her mom was trying to sleep and the phone would wake her. Tara grabbed the small waste receptacle and bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen, grasping frantically for the phone as she answered it with a rushed, “Hello?”



“Uh, Tara?” asked the soft voice on the line, the tone unsure.



“Oh, yeah it’s me”, said Tara, catching her breath, “Hi, Will.”



“Is it a bad time?” the redhead asked quickly, more than sensitive to Tara’s current home situation.



“No, no it’s fine”, the blonde assured her, setting down the small can and moving to sit on one of the bar stools at the island in the kitchen. “Mom just laid down to sleep and I was worried about the phone bothering her.”



“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry”, apologized Willow, “I always call at the worst times.”



“Will, it’s fine”, Tara reiterated, “I’m glad you called. I was just thinking I needed to hear your voice.”



“You needed to hear my voice?” Willow inquired, working overly hard to disguise the glee the other woman’s statement brought her.



“Yeah”, Tara replied, the smile evident in her voice, “Whenever you talk to me I always feel so much better. Like everything is going to be all right. You know?”



In the quietude of her room, Willow did a silent happy dance. “Hey, anything I can do”, she said, meaning every word, “you know that.”



“I know”, Tara answered, then decided to switch gears. She knew that Willow had a crush on her, and truth to tell she honestly didn’t know how she felt about that fact. A few months prior, Willow had come right out and told her of her feelings. Or at least, Willow did Willow’s version of coming right out and telling her, which meant the redhead had babbled incoherently for a good fifteen minutes before finally running out of oxygen and collapsing in a nervous heap without really having said anything at all.



But Tara had gotten the message, however she didn’t let Willow know whether she had or not. It was something that Tara still felt guilty about, but not knowing her own position on the matter, she had decided to let the subject stay enigmatical. She was confused enough with her current life as it was and she wasn’t prepared to bring any sort of… thing… into the chaos.



“So, um”, she began, “what’s up?”



“Oh I’d just thought I’d call and see if we were still on for the movie thing”, Willow explained, “you know, me coming over and all.”



Shit, Tara scolded herself. She had forgotten. She ran the possibility over in her head and quickly determined that, given her mother’s present state, having visitors over to the house was probably not a good idea. But she wanted company so badly, and the idea of Willow as company felt so calming and… yet still there was mom.



“Tara?” asked Willow’s voice after a long pause.



“Oh”, said Tara, snapping out of her thoughts, “Sorry. I was just thinking.”



“About?”



“About how nice you coming over would be”, the blonde answered honestly. Unknown to Tara, Willow’s heart skipped a beat at the revelation. “But…” Willow’s heart now fell into her stomach. “Mom’s not doing very well today, and I don’t think… I’m sorry…”



“Tara”, the redhead replied, quickly setting her own feelings aside out of concern for her friend, “Please don’t apologize. I totally understand. It’s not like we’re running on a schedule and this is an appointment we have to keep.”



“I know”, Tara sighed, leaning her head in her hand, “I just… I keep asking you to come over and then telling you that you can’t. I’m a terrible friend.”



“NO!” Willow barked. Quickly realizing the overkill of her vehemence, she re-stated more calmly, “No. Not at all. Tara, you are going through something… Well, I can’t even begin to imagine… It’s perfectly understandable… I mean, a lot of people go through this… Not to say that your own experience isn’t unique and important, because it is… I don’t want you to think that I think that what you’re going through is common, because it’s not. Even though a lot of people have had to and are dealing with what you are, it doesn’t make you or the situation typical… I…”



“Will”, Tara interrupted her mid-babble, trying to stifle her laugh. Willow-babble always made her feel better because she knew that whenever Willow babbled she was simply trying to put into words how much she cared, and by the number of words she used, it was obvious she cared a lot. “I get it”, Tara finished.



“You do?”



“Yeah.”



“Good”, said Willow, “because for a moment there I wasn’t even sure I got it.”



Tara couldn’t help but laugh at the cuteness of her friend’s statement. “I just… I feel so cut off from the world sometimes. Like everything is going on without me, which it is… But you always make me feel so much better and a movie with Willow just sounded so good.”



“It’s okay”, Willow soothed, “and we’ll get to it when we get to it.”



“How do you do that?” Tara asked suddenly.



“Uh, do what?”



“Here I was all ‘doom and gloom’ and five minutes on the phone with you and I feel like I can face life again. It’s so hard to stay optimistic these days. I mean, I want to be, I try to be”, Tara explained. Then asked again, “How do you do it?”



“It’s hard work”, Willow admitted, “There’s a lot of negativity out there. But I think I’ve got enough positivism in me that I can be optimistic for the both of us.”



“Really?”



“Yeah.”



Somehow her friend’s simple declaration seemed to lift a thousand pound weight from off of Tara’s shoulders. “Thank you”, she said after moment.



“Like I said”, said Willow, “Anything I can do.”



“Yeah”, Tara smiled softly. “Listen, Will, I’m tired of blowing you off and I really want to do this movie thing. Only not tonight and not here. Maybe sometime this week we could go out? I really need to get away from this house and I want to spend some time with you, so I was thinking, have you heard about the new film of ‘Tuck Everlasting’?”



It was all Willow could do to not squeal with glee. “Tuck Everlasting” was one of her favorite books growing up. “Oh my God!” she said, not even attempting to hide the excitement in her voice, “I so want to see that! It was one of my favorite stories as a kid!”



“Really? I’ve never read it”, said Tara, “I mean, I sort of know the story behind it, but I’ve never read the book. The movie previews just looked really nice.”



“Yeah”, Willow agreed, “They really do. I was hoping I could find someone who would want to go see it. Disney made a movie of it in the mid-eighties and it was pretty good, but now with all the new effects and stuff that they can do, it should be really neat.”



“There’s another movie?” questioned the blonde. “I didn’t know that.”



“Yeah, I’ve got it on tape somewhere”, Willow commented dismissively. “Hey, Tara, I’ll tell you what. I’m going to clear my evening schedule for the rest of the week, so that you can call any time you’re available and we can go.”



“You’d do that for me?”



“Of course! Why wouldn’t I?”



“Well, it’s just, I know that you’ve been really busy with work and running your own business and everything”, stated Tara, “are you sure you can spare the time?”



“Absolutely”, Willow replied, impressing as much into the word as she could. “Don’t even worry about it. Just call me when you want to go, okay?”



“Okay”, Tara agreed, “Thanks, Willow.” Then, for some inexplicable reason, the blonde felt compelled to add, albeit in a silly almost childish voice, “I love you!”



On the other end of the line, Willow swallowed a near-audible gulp. “I…” she began, trying to sound nonchalant, “I love you too.”



Tara paused, as she suddenly realized the depth of the redhead’s response to her sentiment, and it scared her a little. “Yeah, well”, she said, attempting to recover, “I’ll call you.”



“Sure”, Willow answered, “I’ll talk to you later.”



“Yeah. Bye.”



“Bye”, said Willow, letting the word drift off as she heard the phone click off on the other end of the line. She held the silent phone in her hand, staring at it, not sure what to think about what had just happened. Had she said the wrong thing? Or was it that she had said the right thing, but the wrong way. She knew that when Tara had said, “I love you”, she didn’t mean it as, well… “I love you”. Did she? And now Willow was even more confused.



Oh well, she would go to the movie with her and see. Though a lot of people didn’t give her credit for it, Willow was preternaturally patient. Or at least she was when it came to matters of the heart. So she would wait, and bide her time and see if anything came of anything.



And if it didn’t, well, that was fine too.



That was the point that Willow had the hardest time convincing herself was true.



*****



It was Tuesday and Willow was grumpy. She sat at her desk reading through the Sunnydale Times and let out a vocalized sigh of disgruntlement as she refolded the mass of print and slammed it down onto her desk.



“Dawn!” she called out from her seated position.



“Yes?” the young brunette squeaked, poking her head in the office door.



“Why isn’t our press release in today’s paper?” Willow asked, staring the younger girl down.



“Um, maybe they didn’t get it in time to publish it”, she offered weakly.



“And how could that be? I gave you the releases to mail last week” stated the redhead. “You did mail them. Right?”



“Um…”



“Right?!” Willow stood up from her desk, her temper flaring slightly.



“Yes!” Dawn replied anxiously. “Yes, I did, only…I couldn’t mail them last week when you wanted because there wasn’t enough money in the petty cash for all the stamps. So I mailed all that I could last week and the rest yesterday.”



Willow sighed and slumped back into her chair, “Dawnie, why didn’t you tell me we were out of petty cash?” The redhead reached over to a locked drawer and opened it, to discover the empty till inside.



“Because I know how tight things have been lately and I didn’t want you to worry. You’ve been kind of stressing lately.” To Dawn the statement had made perfect sense… in her head. But out loud it sounded ridiculous. She prepared herself for the lecture that was surely coming.



“So how did you pay to mail the rest of the letters?” Willow calmly inquired.



“I sort of… used some of the money from my paycheck. But only a little bit.” Dawn quickly answered.



“Did you keep the receipt?”



This time the younger woman hesitated before responding, “Uh… yeah.. but you don’t have to—“



“Give it to me”, Willow interrupted.



“No, really it’s—“



“Give it to me”, she repeated, a little more firmly.



Exhaling, Dawn reached into her back pocket and pulled out the small, frayed piece of paper, handing it to her boss.



“Dawn”, she began, her voice stern, but undeniably kind, “I appreciate you’re trying to help. But by not telling me last week that we had run out of petty cash… it’s delayed us another week of advertising, and we are too close to opening to be able to afford the public not knowing about us. In the future, let me know what’s going on. Okay? You’ll see the money you spent reimbursed on your next check.”



“I’m sorry, Willow.” Said Dawn, her shoulders sagging.



“It’s okay, just… don’t let it happen again.”



“I won’t.” The brunette’s voice was tiny and dripping with defeat as she exited the small office.



Willow felt horrible knowing she had hurting Dawn’s feelings. She and Dawn had been friends for a little over five years and the younger woman had originally planned on partnering with Willow in her business venture. Unfortunately, Dawn wasn’t able to come up with enough money to invest in a partnership and had instead chosen to offer her services as an administrative assistant. Willow was just about to call after her to give her a pep talk when the phone unceremoniously rang.



“Graphics by Design”, she spoke into the receiver.



“Willow?”



“Oh!” said the redhead, a smile instantly gracing her face, “Hey, Tara. What’s up?”



“Um, nothing… I mean… not nothing because why would I call if it was nothing”, Tara prattled on suddenly, “But now that I think about it, it’s really stupid and I shouldn’t be wasting your time, so I’m just going to let you go…”



“Whoa, Tara, whoa wait a second”, Willow said quickly before the blonde could hang up the phone. “Okay. You still there?”



“Yeah.” Tara’s voice sounded stressed and rushed.



“Two things”, Willow began, “First, you’re babbling, which is my job. Second, nothing is ever stupid and you are never wasting my time. Okay, actually that was second and third, which would mean three things not two, and do you see what I mean when I say that babbling is my job?” Willow let out a great sigh of relief when she heard her friend’s light chuckles on the other end of the line. “So”, she continued, “what’s up?”



“Oh, I just… I just really feel like bitching and moaning to someone and the first person I thought of was you”, said Tara, grimacing as she heard how the words sounded coming out of her mouth.



“Um, well… I’m honored”, replied the redhead, a little confused.



“You’re the only one who seems to care”, Tara went on, “everyone else doesn’t want to listen because I guess they’re tired of hearing about how stressed out my life is. But you never seem to mind and… I sit here all day long taking care of my mom and my sister and I keep everything to myself and sometimes I just really have to let it all out, you know?”



“Of course! Everyone has to vent sometimes”, Willow assured her, “and I am always available for primal scream therapy.”



“Argh!” Tara let out a mock cry of vexation, giggling a little at the end. “Thanks. I mean, I know you have more important things—“



“Nothing is more important than the happiness of my friends”, the redhead cut her off.



“Thanks”, she answered softly. “It’s so weird, I mean, I really need to vent and complain and everything, but, I listen to my own complaints in my head all day long that even now, letting them all out, I am sick of hearing myself complain. I just wish I could stop complaining. Look at you! You never complain. C’mon, Will, complain about something, it’s your turn to complain to me.”



“Uh, you want me to complain?”



“Yes! Please, anything so that I don’t have to listen to myself whine!” Tara urged her.



Willow really racked her brain for something that she could complain about. Sure there was the Dawn thing that had happened a few moments before, but she was already over that the minute she had answered the phone and found Tara’s voice on the other end of the line. As a rule the redhead never held on to grudges more than a few days, if that. “Life’s too short”, was her motto and she lived strictly by it. Something to complain about? It was a tough question for her.



“Ummm…” she still wasn’t sure.



“It’s okay, if you don’t have anything—“ Tara began before Willow interrupted her.



“Oh! I know.” Willow announced proudly. “Traffic was a bitch today.”



“I know!” Tara quickly agreed, glad that her friend had found something to go on about. “Isn’t it awful?”



“Yeah!” She continued, “I was driving home from a meeting in Laguna and traffic was backed up all the way from the 405 to the 101! It was nuts! And I still don’t know what the hold-up was. Too many cars, not enough space, I guess.”



“Tell me about it”, Tara responded, “It takes two hours to travel fifteen miles these days.”



Willow relaxed a little in her office chair and even went so far as to put her feet up on her desk, reclining. “And drivers these days are so rude.”



“Yeah”, the blonde agreed. “So, not to change subjects but how’s work going? I know you had said that you were concerned about the advertising going out in time.”



“Oh, yeah, there was another little delay, but nothing major. The ads should start hitting the press early next week if not sooner”, stated Willow.



“That’s cool”, said Tara, her voice drifting off a little.



“But enough about work”, spoke up Willow, quickly catching her friend’s shift in mood, “I’m always talking about work. For our new topic of conversation we shall discuss… impressionist art.”



“Impressionist Art?” Tara asked, unable to hold back the initial guffaw of laughter at Willow’s ridiculously out-of-nowhere idea. “You mean like, Matisse?”



“Yeah, Matisse”, agreed the redhead. “Or maybe Picasso.”



“Van Gogh had a really cool self-portrait”, commented the blonde.



“Yeah…”



“For a second there I thought you were going to start telling jokes or something.”



“I could tell jokes”, offered Willow, “If you want me to.”



“Um, okay. But none of those really long jokes.”



“Okay, so we’ll stick to one-liners and question and answer humor”, Willow smiled.



“Sounds good”, said Tara.



“Okay, so this Irishman walks out of a bar…” Willow paused, waiting for the right moment to add, “It could happen.”



Tara thought about it a moment before breaking down into a fit of giggles. The redhead couldn’t help but pat herself on the back for that one. She loved knowing that she was making her friend feel better and she loved even more that her friend had thought of her first as a source of comfort.



“Okay, wait, I’ve got another one”, she said, “What do you do when an elephant comes through your window?”



“Um, what?” Tara asked, playing along.



“Swim for the door.”



“Oh! Ew! Gross!! That is so gross, Will!” Tara scolded her, despite the fact that she was laughing so hard she almost couldn’t get the words out. “Where did you hear that?”



“I think Xander told it to me in fifth grade” Willow admitted. “I didn’t get it at first. I was all like, ‘what kind of elephant was it?’ and Xander said, ‘a boy elephant’. I still didn’t get it so I asked, ‘How big was this elephant?’ Because I couldn’t imagine an elephant being able to fit through a normal sized window.”



“So what did he say?” asked Tara, “How big was the elephant?”



“Oh, about three and a half feet”, answered Willow, her voice a perfectly controlled deadpan.



Another pause of consideration was quickly followed by Tara busting up again on the other end of the line. Willow could practically see all of the facial expressions the blonde had no doubt just gone through. “You set me up, Willow Rosenberg”, she stated, trying to sound serious.



“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Willow replied proudly. Then she decided to use the levity of the moment to ask a question that had been weighing on her mind since the week before, “So um, can I ask you something?”



“Sure”, Tara responded cheerily.



“I, uh, kind of noticed that you and William were all snuggly-wuggly on the couch last week at Buffy’s party”, she hedged carefully.



“Oh, that”, said Tara, audibly rolling her eyes, “I wish he wouldn’t do that. I mean, I know he’s supposed to be sensitive poet-guy, but it’s more like he’s lonely desperate for any kind of female attention guy. He’s always hanging all over me and, I mean, he’s been really nice about my mom and everything, so I feel bad about shrugging him off, so I don’t. But I so want to.”



Willow let go of a breath she didn’t even know she had been holding. “Yeah”, she said, urging her friend to go on.



“And it’s like, at Buffy’s party, I was the only woman there who was single.”



“And… not gay”, Willow posed, dreading the potential answer.



“Um, yeah”, said Tara, her hesitation so minute it would have taken several re-watchings of a slow-motion instant replay to catch. “I mean… e-exactly. So William just kind of… clings.”



“Yeah…” Willow said again, trying to disguise the pain in her voice. Her mind was racing a thousand miles a minute trying to process a million hopes, dreams, fears, disappointments, and most importantly, Tara’s words.



“Ugh, baby formula”, the blonde stated with disgust.



“What?” asked Willow, unsure what baby formula had to do with Tara just declaring she was straight.



“My hands smell like baby formula.” Tara clarified.



“Uh… you’ve lost me…”



“Mom has to have a feeding tube hooked up to her so that she can eat. They fill the bags with this baby-formula stuff”, the blonde explained, “Sometimes I have to unhook her from it so that she can change clothes or take a bath. It spills onto my hands a little bit. It smells and it sticks to you. I hate the smell.”



“Oh… I’m sorry…” Willow was completely lost in the feeling of her heart crushing in her chest.



“It’s not your fault”, Tara said, her turn to sooth and comfort. She knew that she had just hurt Willow badly. But what else could she have said? Now wasn’t the time to admit she wasn’t sure. Wasn’t she sure? Why wasn’t she sure? “I’m going to let you go so that I can wash my hands.”



“Sure…”



“I’ll call you later and we can figure out the movie thing, okay?” Tara’s question had nothing to do with the movie they still hadn’t gone to see. It was her begging for her friend’s forgiveness. Forgiveness for breaking her heart.



But Willow was, for the first time, oblivious to the true meaning behind the blonde’s words. “Sure…” was all she could say.



They both hung up the phone without even saying goodbye. Tara curled herself up onto her bed, clutching the wireless receiver to her chest and biting her lip. Here it was that she had selfishly called Willow for no other reason then to unload her baggage on her in the hopes that the redhead would make her feel better. Which she had, of course, hadn’t she always? And how had she returned the favor? By breaking her. Way to go, Tara, she berated herself.



“Why, Willow?” she asked the silent air of her room, “Why did you have to ask me that?” She played back the moment over in her mind:



“And it’s like, at Buffy’s party, I was the only woman there who was single.”



“And… not gay.”



“Um, yeah… I mean…e-exactly.”



Exactly. Was it really so simple as, “exactly”? And not even “exactly”, no, it was “e-exactly.” Exactly with a stutter. And she only stuttered when she was unsure.



So I guess it’s not “exactly” after all, she thought.



*****



“I don’t know, Will”, said Xander as they sat discussing the previous day’s phone call over dinner at the local Denny’s. “I mean, I’ve never been a pro at figuring out ‘the women’. You are talking to a guy who went through his entire sexual prime not having sex.”



“Yes, and while that is not only true but also incredibly sad”, Willow conceded, taking a sip from her ice tea, “this has nothing to do with sex.”



“But in a very real way it does”, the dark-haired man countered. “Or sexuality at any rate, which does lead to sex.”



“Xand, I’m not in the mood for word games or your unhealthy obsession with sex”, she sighed thoroughly perturbed.



“Will, I say again—Entire. Sexual. Prime.” Xander punched each word as only he could, with a strange combination of despair and pride. “A guy is going to be a little obsessed.”



“Yeah, but you’d be even more obsessed if you were actually getting some.”



The young man cocked his head to the side in brief reflection before quickly returning to the conversation, “Yeah, okay, I’m not going to argue you that.”



“It’s just all so confusing”, Willow sighed, dropping her head into her hands.



Xander rolled a piece of straw-paper between is thumb and forefinger, looking sympathetically at his childhood friend. His eyes softened as he took into consideration how ironic this whole situation truly was. Xander loved Willow. And not loved in the “Gee, you’re my best friend and I love you so much” sense. He had loved her since her family had moved in next door to his house, back when they were both still in grade school.



He remembered in perfect clarity the day he first realized he loved the redheaded woman sitting across from him now. She had only been a girl then, and he a boy. They had been playing two-hand-touch football in the backyard when he had tagged her with unnecessary force and sent her falling to the grass, hard enough to knock the wind out of her. She had started to cry and Xander had never felt so terrified in his life that he had hurt his precious friend. He had picked her up and rushed her inside and tended to the scrapes on her knees and the bruise on her forehead, and when he looked at her, even with her fiery hair in a tousled mess of a ponytail and dirt on her face, she had suddenly seemed a radiant vision and he knew right then what it felt to fall hopelessly and carelessly in love. He had been eight years old.



But if there was one thing that Willow had always been certain in. One thing that she had always been honest with him about, it was that she was gay. Always had been, and always would be. “I can’t help it, Xand”, she had said one day, “On some weird level I wish it was a choice, because then maybe I wouldn’t keep falling in love with people I can never be with.” Xander had only looked at her and replied with sad eyes, “I know what you mean.”



“What?” Willow asked, looking up from her hands.



Xander realized he must have spoken his memory aloud. “I just said, that I know what you mean. Uh, about being confused and stuff.”



“Oh”, the redhead acknowledged, taking a perfunctory sip of her tea as the table returned to silence.



“Hey, Will?” Xander spoke up carefully, “what if she isn’t?”



“What?”



“What if she really…what if Tara isn’t… you know… gay?” It was a question that had oddly never been asked before, or at least not out loud. “I mean”, he went on, “didn’t you say that she said she wasn’t? Doesn’t that pretty much clinch it?”



Willow shook her head, more out of trying to clear her thoughts then attempting to dismiss Xander’s words. Her eyebrows wrinkled together a little as she thought. “There”, she started but trailed off, before finding her voice again. “There was something about the way she said it. Like she… I…I could have sworn she stuttered. And you know she only stutters when she’s not sure about something…”



“You could have imagined the stutter”, Xander broached logically, “Willow, you’re so in love with her that… you could have wished that there was a stutter. The way you replay things over and over in your head you could even have created a stutter and now you believe it was there all along. I know about reading into things. Reading too far. I’ve been there.”



“There was a stutter”, Willow put down firmly.



“Okay”, he conceded, raising his hands up from the table in a gesture of surrender. “She stuttered.”



Willow desperately needed to change the subject before she started suffocating in her own doubts. “How’s school?” she asked, her tone lightening a little.



“Oh, you know, the same”, Xander answered, glad to move on. “Just started a new course on chaos theory.”



“Have I mentioned before just how frightening you as a psychologist is going to be?” she asked wryly, yet completely serious at the same time.



“I agree”, said Xander, sitting back into his chair. “Which is why I don’t plan on practicing clinical psychology, but rather forensic.”



“You see dead people”, Willow whispered playfully.



Xander nodded, “Yes, on slabs and with toe-tags.”



The redhead stretched her arms and extended the motion to check her watch, her eyes bulging slightly as she caught the time. “Ugh”, she groaned, “I have to go, I promised Carol I’d baby-sit tonight. She and Nate are going out.” Carol and Nate were both long-standing friends of Xander and Willow’s and had even asked them to become their children’s godparents. Both Willow and Xander had eagerly agreed.



“You want me to swing by later?” asked Xander. “I haven’t seen the kids in a while. Or Nate and Carol for that matter.”



“Yeah sure”, said the redhead, “it’s not like they would mind. In fact I’m sure they would be thrilled to come home and find us both there. Gabriel is getting big,” She commented as an afterthought.



“Cool deal, I’ll be seeing you later, then”, he smiled.



Willow stood and gave Xander a brief but warm hug before heading out of the restaurant. He watched her go. It seemed like he was always watching her go. And she kept getting farther and farther away.



*****



CONTINUED BELOW

"Promise me you'll never be linear." "On my trout."

Edited by: DarkWiccan at: 4/9/04 9:47 pm

BLAME ME! ALL OF YOU! BLAME ME! I mean hey! I'm so freakin' glad you got back to this one! Go me!

It rocks!

It's so sad that Mrs. Maclay died. Really. In a way, it's obvious as to why Tara kissed Willow, and Willow knows it, but I do hope that Willow won't just be there for her when Tara needs her, it's unfair to Willow. But hey, aren't we all love fools?

Gotta go to class, but I so want more!



EDITED: Class was postponed. But I still do want more.

-------------------



"See? I've mastered this tact crap." Anya in Tears Of The Goddess by Lisa



The course of love doesn’t always run smooth, especially for the neurotic and accident-prone. ~ LadyB



.:Dark-bliss.net :. .:Blink.Flash.Sparkle.:. .:My blog:. .:Blood and Ink:. .:Washi's 70s Site:.

Edited by: Washi  at: 3/17/04 1:27 am

“Explain to me again why we are doing this” Willow asked wryly as she fussed with the tangled mess of ties that hung from the 16th century swordsman’s shirt that she was wearing.



“Because Sunnydale High’s Key Club, of which I am the sponsoring teacher, came up with the ‘oh-so-brilliant’ idea of holding a little ren faire on the park”, replied Buffy, equally distressed at the daunting task of lacing up the front of her bodice.



“And for whom are they doing this?” Willow grunted, pulling on her soft-leather, knee-high boots and starting to tighten the laces.



“Like I’ve said a hundred times”, the petite blonde answered through gritted teeth, “the elementary school kids.”



“Okay”, said Willow, apparently satisfied, “I just need to keep reminding myself that this is for a good cause.”



“At least you don’t have to wear a dress”, chided Buffy.



“It’s the only saving grace to this effort so far”, answered the redhead as she pulled on her leather jerkin and buttoned it to the top. “How do I look?” she asked, seeking her friend’s approval.



“Wow, Will”, said the blonde, thoroughly impressed, “You look… dashing. Very knight in shining armor... Uh… without the armor… or the horse. I never imagined you in leather before, but you wear it really well.”



“Really?” she queried, glancing down at herself. “You don’t think the linen pants are too… poofy?”



“Well, they are a little big on you, but you look fine. Awesome even.”



“Good enough to sweep a girl off her feet?”



“On what girl do you plan on doing the sweeping?” asked the blonde, curiosity getting the better of her.



“Oh, wow, Buffy uh… you look really sexy”, complimented Willow, “very sixteenth century wench. Your male students will certainly be thanking heaven for their codpieces.”



“Willow!!” responded the smaller woman, thoroughly shocked. “You can’t be serious! Are you serious? Oh God… Are you serious? I can’t go out there looking like a wanton harlot! What am I gonna… and I just realized this was all a diversion to keep me from forcing you to tell me who you are so concerned about looking dashing for… so spill.”



“Dang”, grumbled the redhead, “thought I had you for a second there.” Willow moved over to the bed in Buffy’s room and sat down. “Can I ask you something?”



“Sure”, said Buffy, noticing her friend’s sudden downshift in mood.



“Well, it’s just… you’ve known this girl longer than I have, so maybe you can tell me if I’m just wasting my time…”



“Oookay.” Clearly her interested was piqued.



Willow decided to skip with beating around the bush and went right for the kill. “Is Tara gay?”



Buffy was about to answer, when she paused, and a strange and distant look came over her eyes before she stated in a far-away voice, “Nobody knows.”



“Nobody knows?” Willow asked, seeking clarification.



“Yeah”, said Buffy, “Nobody. And I mean nobody. Well, maybe Anya. You might ask her, she and Tara have been friends since middle school. And of course, you could always ask Tara.”



“No”, Willow countered firmly, “No, I couldn’t. You just don’t go up and ask someone if they’re gay. A lot of people out there would take such a thing as major insult. And it’s worse if the person isn’t sure themselves, because then they get all paranoid and avoid-y…”



“Okay, I get it”, interrupted the blonde, “so, no asking Tara. But there is Anya. If anyone would know, she would.”



“I don’t know Anya that well.”



“Well, you’re on your own then”, Buffy sighed, and finished up tying her peasant shoes. “We should probably start over to the park.”



“Can I ride with you?” Willow asked, standing.



“Sorry, Will, I already promised rides to William, Anya and Dawn”, Buffy apologized, until a brilliant idea struck her brain. “You could ask Tara for a ride. I mean, as far as I know she isn’t driving anyone other than herself.”



Willow smiled a little at the thought, “Yeah, okay. Where is she?”



“Downstairs, she should be done changing by now.”



Willow stepped past Buffy and out into the upstairs hallway of the Summers’ home. She practically bounced down the stairs into the living room where she found Tara crouching down, her back turned, apparently sorting through her purse for something.



“Hey, Tara?” she asked, a little hesitantly, not wanting to disturb her concentration.



“Yeah?” she replied, standing and facing the redhead. She looked absolutely stunning in her period garb. She wore a light-red dye woven peasant’s skirt with an underskirt that gave the outer garment a pleasant soft “bell” shape. For a top she wore an even darker red peasant’s blouse and rich navy colored bodice that laced up the front and further pronounced her already attractive bosom. Her hair cascaded freely around her face and neck, and the soft glow of the afternoon sun found itself captured in the strands of her hair, giving it the appearance of a natural halo.



Willow inhaled sharply and found herself choking on her own breath, hacking and wheezing in front of the girl as Buffy came down the stairs behind her.



Tara quickly rushed to Willow’s side and began gently patting her on the back in an effort to help correct the redhead’s breathing.



Oh God, she thought at Tara, though the girl did not hear her, Stop touching me. You’re only making it worse with these touches that feel like an electrical current running through me. But then again, this is really nice. So don’t stop. I’ll just die coughing as a result of your gorgeousness and with you touching me and the electricity and everything will be perfect. Oh, wait… I think I’m coming out of it now. Crap.



“Willow, are you okay?” Tara asked as her companion’s breathing slowly returned to normal. She changed her gentle patting to a gentle rubbing, massaging the redhead’s back through the heavy leather that she wore.



“Oh…fine… I just… breathed in some… air… the wrong way”, she finally managed.



“Oh, okay”, she replied, sharing an odd glance with Buffy, who was stuck half-way down the stairs due to Willow still occupying the bottom few.



“Um, can I get a ride with you to the park?” Willow asked weakly after a few more moments of gathering her breath.



“Sure”, said Tara, moving back over to her bag and picking it up, fishing out her car keys in the process. “I was just on my way over. Nice outfit, by the way.”



“Oh, uh... thanks. You too”, Willow smiled, following Tara out the front door, turning quickly to wave at Buffy.



The first few moments of the drive were silent. Tara was concentrating on the road and Willow was concentrating on trying to lower her anxiety level to the point where she could talk without squeaking. The blonde hit “play” on her car stereo and the soft sounds of world music filled the cabin.



“Nice music”, Willow said, trying to make with the small talk.



“Yeah”, Tara agreed, “Most people don’t like it. There’s this one guy at work who I drive home occasionally and he hates it. He’s always complaining and asking me to turn it to the Rap station.”



“That’s so dumb”, huffed the redhead, “First of all, way to be nice and thank you for giving him a ride. Second of all, it really shows how narrow-minded some people are. This music is awesome, how could you not like it?”



“See, that’s what I think too”, she replied. “It is my car after all. I think I should be able to listen to what I want to without it being this big thing.”



“I agree”, stated Willow. “So... this is… Italian?”



“Actually it’s French”, Tara corrected.



“Oh”. And the winner for dumbest psuedo-intellectual remark of the week… Willow Rosenberg!, she mentally kicked herself for the faux pas. “Well, it’s really cool.”



“Thanks.”



And again there was silence. Willow shifted a little in her seat, tugging at the seatbelt which had suddenly become unbearably irritating in its confinement.



“It’s from a movie called ‘Amelie’”, Tara continued after a moment. “You should come over some time. We could watch it.”



Suddenly the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ started playing with wild abandon through Willow’s brain. Oh my God. A French film!! She just invited me over to her house to watch a French film!! She likes me!



“Uh, yeah, sure”, she said in her best, I’m-cool-and-nothing-can-phase-me voice. “That would be nice. I’d love to see it.”



“I’d like to share it with you”, Tara smiled.



“So, is your sister coming… to the park, I mean?”



“Lisa? Yeah, she wanted to come and take some pictures of everyone in costume”. Tara explained as she pulled the car into a parking spot near the picnic grounds of Weatherly Park. They looked up and saw a couple of multi-colored square-frame tents set up near the water’s edge.



“That must be us”, noted Willow.



Tara nodded in agreement. They clamored out of the car and started toward the humble encampment.



“So what are you supposed to be?” the blonde asked as they neared the two tents.



“Oh, I’m a rogue mercenary, an expert in all weaponry of the age, from sword to bow. Available for hire at a reasonable price to vanquish your foes and make meat of your enemies”, Willow proudly recited her character outline



“Impressive”, Tara smiled.



“And you?”



“I am the daughter of a wealthy land-owner. Raised in privilege, but suffering from a deplorable case of ennui, which I successfully overcame by leaving my father’s home in search of adventure with a band of traveling gypsies”, the blonde expounded.



Willow was suitably impressed. “And what, pray tell, is your name, fair maiden?”



“Olivia. And yours kind lady?”



“Jana”, Willow said, dipping her head in a slight bow. She looked up again into Tara’s eyes, “My lady, these woods I fear are treacherous with thieves and highwaymen. Allow me to escort you to the safety of our camp, not a stone’s throw from here. Indeed, looking yonder ways you may see our colors waving proudly in the breeze.”



“Indeed I do, m’lady”, answered Tara, “I accept your most kind invitation and allow you to lead me thither.”



Willow bowed again and raised her elbow out for Tara to take. The blonde obliged and curled her hand into the crook of it. The pair shared a silent smile for a moment before Willow gently pulled Tara onward to the small faire.



---------------------



The day went by somewhat quickly. The elementary school students were suitably impressed by Buffy’s Key Club’s efforts and the assistance of her friends. Everyone had a wonderful time pretending to not know what televisions and cars were, taking great pleasure in exasperating the young children as the futilely tried to explain the concepts of video games and pizza. Finally the sun had fallen well below the horizon and the group of friends retired back to Buffy’s home to change back into their everyday clothes, back into their everyday lives.



Willow and Tara found themselves standing alone in the darkened upstairs hallway of the Summers’ home, waiting for Xander to finish changing inside the bathroom so that they each could have a turn. They waited silently, too tired from the day to even attempt to start a new conversation. Willow found herself desperately wanting to draw Tara close to her in a long and comforting hug, for no other reason than to just do it. But she couldn’t. She felt afraid, for some unfathomable…. No, not unfathomable… she feared rejection. That her attentions would not be welcomed and rather pushed away. So she stayed immobile, and they both stayed silent. The electricity in the air between them was so tangible you could taste it. Yet still they only stood, and waited.



Finally, Xander emerged from the bathroom in his street clothes, carrying his peasant shirt and pants in a bundle in his hand, he squeezed passed the girls muttering a low, “excuse me”, before disappearing down the stairs.



“I’ll be right out”, said Willow, ducking into the bathroom first. Once inside, she stripped an redressed faster than she ever had in her life. She hated the idea of Tara waiting alone in the darkened hall, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that, on top of wanting to change out of the hot costume, she really, really had to pee, she would have let Tara use the bathroom ahead of her. She finished with her business and stepped back out into the hall.



“All yours”, she smiled sheepishly and allowed the blonde to step past her and into the little room.



The door shut behind Tara and Willow stood momentarily unsure what to do next. Should she wait, or would that be too weird? Would it appear like she was hovering? She didn’t want Tara to think that she was a hoverer. So she’d go downstairs. But should she go downstairs? Wouldn’t it be impolite to leave Tara alone up here with a dark hallway to greet her once she had finished changing? Willow fidgeted a little with the conundrum. Go, or stay? Seemed a simple question. But it so was not. Her body jerked forward to the stairs, but her feet stayed where they were. But how weird would that look if Tara walked out into the hall to find Willow spastically jerking her body toward the stairs? Using all of her strength of will, the redhead finally decided to go downstairs, and after a couple of moments of trying, did just that.



“Hey Willow”, said Dawn as she greeted the older girl at the base of the stairs. “We were all going to go to the Bronze for some grub and drinks. You wanna come?”



“Uh, is Tara going?” she asked.



“I’m not sure”, Dawn answered, “Probably not, you know, her mom and all. I think she was just going to head home.”



“Is her sister Lisa still around?” Willow asked, scanning the living room.



“Oh, no, she left from the park”, explained the tall brunette. “I think she said something about going over to a friend’s house or something.”



Willow shook her head angrily and in disgust, “Okay, that just pisses me off. What, she can’t go home and help out a little?”



“She’s just going to a friend’s house.”



“Yeah, while Tara has to rush home and slave away”, Willow hissed, keeping her voice low. “Do you know how lucky it is that she even got to get away for today?”



“Willow, chill out”, said Dawn, “Tara can take care of herself.”



“I’m not saying that she can’t”, the redhead countered, “She takes care of everyone. She deserves to have someone take care of her for once.”



Dawn was about to respond when she noticed Tara turn the corner at the top of the stairs, heading down. Willow heard the steps creak behind her, and she looked back up over her shoulder to see the blonde descending, her costume concealed in a plastic grocery bag. She now wore a light yellow summer dress with a soft floral print, her hair still down, was tucked behind her ears and fell down the back of her shoulders.



“Hey everybody”, she said quietly, “I think I’m going to head home.”



The room looked up and everybody in turn gave a small wave and uttered familiar parting words, “Night”, “See you later”, “Drive Safe”, etc.



“Are you sure?” asked Willow as Tara reached the bottom step and stood in front of her.



“Yeah”, she replied softly, “I promised mom. She needs my help.”



“I know”, said Willow, smiling sadly.



“You need to come over sometime so we can watch ‘Amelie’.”



“That would be really cool.”



They both stood awkwardly for a moment, knowing they if they continued talking, they might never stop. Willow bobbed her head a little to an imaginary beat somewhere, waiting for whatever happened next.



“Well, I should really go”, Tara stated.



“Yeah”, Willow agreed, nodding her head vigorously in support of her… support.



Tara opened her arms signaling that it was “hug time”. Willow smiled and opened her arms as well, and they began to lean in to one another.



This is nice, thought Willow as she leaned in, A goodnight hug at the end of a long day. My, her face sure does seem to be getting close to mine. Why is her face getting close to mine? Oh my god, is she leaning in to kiss me? She is! She’s leaning in to kiss me! And I’m leaning in to kiss her! We’re going to kiss! Our first kiss. Wow. Wait, our first kiss… in a room full of people. In a room full of people that could be watching us! This isn’t good! No kiss-y! Quick, abort! Abort!



The entire one-sided conversation in Willow’s head had taken approximately three seconds, enough time for both women to suddenly deflect from “kiss-mode” back into “hug-mode”. They held each other fiercely for a long moment, feeling each other’s hearts pound into each other’s chests. Then, they pulled apart from each other far to quickly and with very wide eyes, scanning the room to see if anyone was looking their way. No one.



“Yeah so, call me”, said Tara nervously as she headed to the door.



“Sure”, said Willow, giving a small wave as she watched Tara disappear to the outside.



The redhead stood, unsure again what to do, until something like a fuse being lit at the base of a bottle rocket, spurred her to action. She grabbed her coat and the sack with her costume and blurted out a quick, “I’m going home now guys, G’night, have fun!” and blew out the door in chase of Tara. Just in time to see the blonde’s car turn the corner at the end of the street.



“Dammit”, she hissed, and threw her coat down in defeat.



*****



Willow lay reclining on the couch in her living room watching re-runs of “M*A*S*H” on TV. The apartment was relatively dark, with only the ambient light from the television and the small light over the kitchen stove providing any illumination. The redhead’s ears perked up as she heard the front door opening, and the sound of someone struggling through it with full bags, grocery bags. A familiar and comforting scent wafted toward Willow’s nostrils, and she knew without even having to look up that it was unmistakably…



“Hey, Baby”, she called from the couch, “You need any help?”



“No, I’m okay, thanks, Hon”, Tara answered, unloading her burden on the kitchen counter. “The store was a madhouse”, she commented as she began to load the groceries into the fridge and pantry. “What time did you get home?”



“About half an hour ago”, Willow replied, straining her neck to peer over the back of the couch and at her lover, bustling about. “You sure you don’t need any help?”



“Positive”, came the reply, “anybody call?”



“Xander”, said Willow, “he left a message. Wanted to know if I wanted to hang out tonight.”



“Do you?”



“Nah, I just wanted to spend the evening at home tonight.”



Tara finally made her appearance into the living room, crossing to where Willow sat and straddling her legs.



“Good”, she said simply.



“Good?” Willow inquired, more than enjoying the feeling of her girlfriend’s weight across her thighs.



“Mm-hmm”, Tara sighed, leaning in and capturing the redhead’s lips briefly. “I mean, I just hate eating beef stroganoff all by myself…”



Willow’s eyes instantly lit up. “You got stuff…”



“Uh-huh…” Tara smiled.



“To make beef stroganoff?” Willow was positively giddy. “You’re making my favorite?”



“Uh-huh.”



“What’s the occasion?” Willow grinned, shifting her legs happily beneath her lover.



“Well, I just wanted to make this evening special”, Tara explained, “particularly since today’s weather is cloudy with a high of 73 and scattered showers expected throughout the day.”



“Huh?”



Willow inhaled sharply as she awoke from her dream. Sitting up slightly, she turned her head to focus blearily on the clock radio going off beside her bed. She groaned, sniffled a little and rubbed her face tiredly before reaching over and shutting the abominable contraption off, not quite ready to start her day.



***



Tara was up to her elbows in soapsuds. She had felt the need to do something rather than feeling useless, as she generally did when it came to caring for her mother. Well, not so much useless as helpless. Her mother was going to die, and there was nothing she could do about that and she hated that feeling. So she had to do something. Something to busy her hands. That something had ended up being baking a cake… from scratch. The kitchen was now, in her opinion, an absolute disaster area, and so the something she had subsequently settled herself into doing was cleaning it up. Tara diligently scrubbed and washed each dirty pan, plate, and utensil to a sparkling clean, refusing to use the dishwasher because that meant cutting corners, and she desperately needed to do something time consuming.



Lisa, completely caught up in the music playing through her Walkman, be-bopped into the kitchen from the front hall, settling down at the island in the center of the room and unloaded a stack of mail onto its surface.



“Mail’s here”, she said, sidling up onto one the bar stools.



“Could you sort through it, Lees?” Tara asked, “I’m kind of busy here.”



“Sure”, Lisa sighed, dismissively glancing at each envelope and announcing the contents. “Bill…bill…bill…Get Well letter for mom… Get Well letter for mom…bill… Get Well letter for mom…Ooh, Publisher’s Clearing House. Hey, Tare, we may have won 10 million dollars.”



“Wouldn’t that be great”, Tara stated, rolling her eyes, “Anything else?”



“Yeah, there’s one for you”, Lisa announced.



“One for me?” asked the blonde, perplexed. “Who from?”



“Uh… return address says ‘Rosenberg’”, read Lisa, “Isn’t that Willow’s last name?”



“Yeah”, said Tara, “Why would Willow be sending me a letter? We just talked on the phone a couple of days ago and she only lives across town.”



“Maybe it’s an invitation to her Hallowe’en party”, offered her younger sister.



“That’s probably it”, Tara agreed, “could you open it and read it to me? My hands are all sudsy.”



“Sure.” Said Lisa, taking off her headphones and letting them rest on her neck while she tore open the long, slender envelope.



“Dear Tara,



“So it’s 8:35 on Friday night and I’m sitting in my living room listening to a mix CD that a friend made up for me, and my thoughts keep drifting to you. I just realized that you probably get a lot of ‘Get Well’ letters for your mom, but never any for you. Not that you are sick or anything, just that you don’t get the attention that is due you.



“You’re going through a really tough time, and you haven’t had anyone to help take up the burden with you. When my godchildren are feeling low about themselves, or are just stressed out, I like to take them into my arms and hug them and tell them to give me their worries, give me their pains, because they are far too young and precious to have to carry such a load.



“If only there was something I could do you for you. You have known too heavy a burden for too long in your life. If I could somehow offer you my support as a friend to help lift some of the weight from off your shoulders, I’m sure any sort of respite would be the only you have had in a long time.



“When I was young, my dad and I used to play this game we called, ‘I Wish For You’. We normally played it on road trips to help pass the time. The way you play is simple. Using the phrase, ‘I wish for you…” you say something that you want for the other person. Pretty self-explanatory. When I was very young the wishes were almost always material in nature. ‘I wish for you… a new bike’, etc. But as I grew older they became more emotional or spiritually centered. With that in mind:

“Tara—



“I wish for you friendship.

I wish for you peace.

I wish for you hope.

I wish for you joy.

But most importantly—

I wish for you freedom.



I wish for you...

Love,

Willow”



Tara stood completely still by the sink, her hands stay resting underneath the soapy water, and she could feel the tips of her fingers beginning to prune. A strange sensation filled her chest, and not a pleasant one. Fear, panic, a sudden rush of embarrassment all pounded against the inside of her ribcage.



“Wow”, said Lisa after a moment’s pause. “Um, well… that was really… sweet.”



“Yeah…” She couldn’t believe that she had made her little sister read the letter aloud.



“Uh… is there something… going on with you two?” the younger woman asked hesitantly.



“No!” Tara answered, far too loudly to be convincing. “I mean, no…” she said again, this time keeping her voice calm. “What makes you say that?”



“Nothing”, Lisa tried to assure her, “It’s just… this letter… it’s…kinda like a love letter almost. Doesn’t she know that you’re straight?”



“Of course she does”, Tara defended, finally thinking to pull her hands from the sink, drying them hastily with a towel and taking the letter from her sister’s hands. “It’s just a friendly note. See, she even says, ‘as a friend’.”



“Why are you freaking out about this so much?”



“I’m not freaking.”



“Yes, you are”, said Lisa. “I know you too well, and this is you freaking. Tara, if you guys have something…”



“We don’t…nothing. I’m telling you there’s nothing.” She folded the letter up and stuffed it in her back pocket.



“Your reaction would tend to make me think otherwise”, Lisa countered.



“Just drop it, okay?” Tara was starting to lose her temper now, and that truly gave Lisa pause. Tara was a very temperate soul, but most likely as a result of all the current stress she was under, whenever she lost her temper, she would really lose it.



Lisa tempered her voice, trying to make it more soothing and not so accusatory. “Tare, if you have feelings for her, that’s oka—“



The blonde cut her off before she could get any further, “Well, I don’t, and I just wish you would let it go. It’s just a letter.”



“Okay, it’s dropped. It’s gone”, Lisa acquiesced, “This is me over it.”



Tara let out a long, defeated sigh. “Good, now, would you mind helping me put this stuff away?”



“Uh, okay, sure”, she agreed, step up over to the dish rack and beginning to unload it.



“I just have to run to the bathroom”, said Tara, excusing herself from the room.



Once inside the bathroom she removed the letter from her pocket and crumpled it in her hand, prepared to flush it down the toilet. But after several minutes of standing over the open commode, rumpled note in hand, she felt herself returning the tattered paper to the safety of her denim pocket, and leaving the small room.



************

NEW CHAPTER POSTED BELOW

"Promise me you'll never be linear." "On my trout."

Two weeks passed agonizingly slow. Tara didn’t call Willow, and for the redhead the silence was deafening and painful.



After not hearing from the blonde several days after she had mailed her the letter, Willow fell into a deep depression. Feeling that she had been ultimately rejected by the one person whom she cared most about in the world she lost the desire to connect with anyone, even with her established circle of friends.



Willow dove into her work, establishing new contracts for her fledgling graphic design business. The only contact she had with anyone besides clients was with Dawn, her friend and assistant.



When she wasn’t working, she was at home either surfing the Internet or watching a rented movie. Occasionally she would forget to eat, and as a result she had started to lose some weight off of her already lithe figure.



Dawn was worried for her friend. There was no denying that the redhead was deeply troubled, Willow had never been very good at disguising her moods. Unfortunately, Dawn had no idea why Willow was so upset; the redhead had never been very effusive about her private life, even when they were just hanging out as friends.



Dawn knew something was wrong, but didn’t feel that the door was open enough for her to inquire, so she remained silent on the matter.



Willow was in a private turmoil, wanting so badly to call Tara, but afraid of doing so. She had no clue how her friend was doing, or what she was thinking, and the not-knowing was turning her into a ball of tension and unease. She felt so helpless and worthless. All she wanted more than anything was for Tara to give her the opportunity to help her, take care of her and yes even love her too. But now it felt as though that chance had been ripped away from her forever, and the cause was her own stupidity.



Willow wanted to talk to someone, but didn’t know who. She’d thought of Xander, but she didn’t think he could understand what it felt like to be hopelessly in love with someone he would never have. She didn’t feel she could talk to Dawn, because even though the young brunette was a sweet girl and a good friend, Willow had never shared her feelings about Tara with her, and now she didn’t know where to begin. She hadn’t told Dawn about her loving feelings because she feared that Dawn would tell Tara. Dawn had always had a reputation for being a well-meaning, but often unfortunately timed blabber mouth.



In a limited period of fourteen days, Willow had fallen so deeply into despair that she had even fleetingly entertained the idea of ending her life. If Tara didn’t love her, then what was her life even worth? Was she worthy of love at all? Willow would never have acted on such a self-destructive impulse, but that fact that she had even thought it gave her pause. She had not realized how much of herself she had devoted to the hope of being in a relationship with Tara until suddenly that hope was gone and she was left empty and directionless. If she wasn’t going to be with Tara, then what else was left for her? She was going to be alone for the rest of her life because she couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.



And all of this without ever having even been with Tara in the first place.



Willow recognized she need some sort of help through this, she just wasn’t sure where to start.



*****



Tara was stressed out. Her mother was back in the hospital after coming down with pneumonia while in an immune-weakened state from a chemo session. Her sister Lisa was spending even more time at her friends’ houses and even less time at home, and her father was no where to be found.



She just did not have a moment for herself.



Tara had not forgotten about Willow’s letter, but she had temporarily tried to put it out of her mind. She just couldn’t give any real thought to it right now.



However, there were times when her mind would drift; sitting with her mother while she slept, at home washing dishes, driving across town from the hospital, or even just getting ready for bed when her thoughts would turn to Willow’s letter.



On the absolute surface it was just a friendly note wishing her a better life and ease from stress. An offering of a shoulder to lean on, a friend to give her support through difficult times.



But a person would have to be completely oblivious to believe that’s all it was.



Tara had to admit that Lisa was right: it was a kind of love letter. She wasn’t sure what to do. It would help if she knew how she felt about the letter, about the situation and about Willow. She just didn’t know and she didn’t have the time to think about it.



So she set it aside and hoped that with enough time maybe the situation would just cease to exist.



Until…



Willow struggled to get her keys from the deadbolt of her front door. They were stuck again. She wrestled with the contraption while juggling the sack of groceries being cradled in her left arm. She was tired, exhausted even, it had been a long day at the office and all she wanted now was to make it inside the haven of her apartment, make a light dinner, maybe watch a movie and go to bed.



This was entirely dependent on her being able to get into her apartment, which seemed to be becoming less and less of a possibility.



“C’mon, goddammit”, she grumbled under her breath as she jiggled the key in the lock. “C’mon…” Finally, the bolt came loose with a satisfying “click-slide” and the redhead stumbled inside the door into the front hall of her modest one-bedroom just in time to hear the phone start to ring.



“Of course…” she sighed, walking quickly into the kitchen, setting down her groceries and grabbing the receiver from it’s cradle. “Hello?” No answer, but the sound of soft, slightly arrested breathing drifted through the phone to Willow’s ear. “Hello?” she asked again, with a definite sound of displeasure. Still nothing but soft, hesitant breathes and maybe a sniffle, though she wasn’t sure. Stupid prank, she thought to herself. “Fine”, she muttered, more to the air than the phone, and went to press the disconnect button on the handset.



“W-Willow?”



Willow froze in her action, her thumb poised just above “end call”. She drew the phone back-up to her ear, her heart pounding on the drum there.



“Tara?”



“Yes…” The blonde’s voice sounded distant and weary, as though she had either used it too much or not enough. “It’s me…” the words sounded nasal and congested like she had been…



Crying, Willow thought instantly, she’s crying. “Are you okay?”



“No…”



“What’s--”



“Mom’s dead.”



“Oh God”, Willow didn’t know what else to say except, “when?”



“Twenty minutes ago…”



The redhead gripped the phone tightly to keep it from slipping out of her now sweaty hand, the plastic creaking a little with the effort. “Where are you?”



“Home.”



“Is she…?”



“She’s upstairs”, Tara replied, trying with all her might not to lose control of her emotions as they roiled inside of her. “The c-c-c…”



“Coroner?”



“Is on their way”, she finished, letting out a long breath, before taking in another, “Willow…”



“I’m already there”, she said, hanging up the phone and rushing out the door back to her car.



***



Willow pulled into the driveway of Tara’s home at breakneck speed, coming to a screeching halt. She leapt out of her car and ran to the front door; instead of knocking she tried the knob and found it to be unlocked. Inside the house was dark and quiet. All of the shudders were drawn and not a single lamp was on. The sun was starting to set outside and whatever ambient light drifted through the house was grey and muted. Willow paused inside the foyer. “Tara?” she called out softly, afraid to disturb the silence.



“In here…” came the hollow reply. Willow traced the sound to the kitchen and found the blonde there, sitting on the floor, huddled up against the cabinets, her knees drawn up to her chest. The redhead let her keys fall out of her hand onto the countertop before dropping to her knees on the floor next to Tara.



“Has the coroner gotten here--”



“They left five minutes ago.”



“I’m sorry”, said Willow, “I tried to get here…”



“I know”, breathed Tara, “but you’re here now.”



“Where’s Lisa?”



“Friend’s house”, Tara explained, “she doesn’t know yet. I need to call her.”



“Do you want me to get you the phone?”



“Yes.”



Willow stood and looked around the dimly lit room. She spied the cordless phone resting on the coffee table over in the family room area by the kitchen. She quickly walked over and picked it up, bringing to Tara. The blonde took it, her hands shaking, and stared at the number pad, unmoving. After a moment she handed the phone back to Willow.



“Can you dial? I can’t see the numbers.”



“Are you okay?”



“I just can’t focus my eyes on anything right now.”



Willow nodded and dialed Lisa’s cell phone number. “It’s ringing”, she said as she gave the phone to Tara.



Tara brought the receiver to her ear. “Lisa…it’s Tara… I need you to come home… I need you to come home right now…Yes…What?....Why so long?...What are you doing there?...You need to come home… … M-Mom’s gone… she’s g-gone…” Tara finally started break down into tears that quickly escalated into sobs. “She’s gone…she’s gone, Lees…come h-home…you n-need to be h-home…I love you t-too…d-don’t drive if you’re c-crying…b-be safe…I love you…bye…”



She dropped the phone to the floor and clutched at her stomach through her gut-wrenching sobs. Willow hastily wrapped her arms around Tara, drawing her up against her body, holding her tightly. Tara grabbed at Willow’s shirt, stretching the material and balling it into her fists.



“I’ve got you”, Willow repeated over and over, rocking them both from side to side and running her fingers soothingly through Tara’s long blonde hair. “I’m right here, just let it out. I’ve got you.”



After a while the sobbing slowly came to a stop and was replaced with shallow, shuddering breaths.



“Tara, you need to breathe, Honey”, Willow gently encouraged her. “Slow deep breaths. You’re gonna pass out. Here, breathe with me.” She took in a long deep breath, and after a moment Tara followed and they exhaled together. They repeated this several times until Tara’s breathing finally settled into a slow and rhythmic pattern. Willow felt the blonde’s grip loosen on her shirt and her entire body relax against her. She looked down and saw that the girl had fallen asleep in her arms.



Sleep, baby, she thought, I’ll stay here.



***



Tara awoke two hours later, still in Willow’s arms. The redhead’s back was killing her, her legs and backside were numb from sitting on the hard tile floor, and her arms ached from holding Tara for so long, but the thought of letting go, even for just a moment to stretch, had never even crossed her mind. Willow hadn’t slept at all, but instead had continued to gently stroke Tara’s hair, or soothingly rub her back and shoulders as she slept.



Tara opened her eyes slowly, blinking in the darkness. Willow felt her begin to stir.



“Tara?”



The blonde pushed up a little, sitting up more fully so that she and Willow would have been eye to eye. She could faintly make out the outline of the redhead’s profile against the white cabinets where she leaned.



“For a second”, Tara whispered, “I thought it was a dream…But then I remembered…and it’s not a dream, is it?”



“I’m sorry”, Willow replied softly. Silence fell on the pair for a while before Willow spoke again. “Do you want to turn on a light?”



“No… not yet.”



“I’m starting to worry about Lisa”, Willow admitted. “Shouldn’t she be home by now?”



Tara shook her head. “She’s driving from San Diego.”



“What’s she doing down there?”



“I don’t know. She said she and her friends drove down there yesterday.” Tara sighed. “She didn’t even bother to let me know she was going.” Willow remained silent, unsure what to say. “Thank you for being here,” Tara stated sadly.



“I’m just glad I was home when you called,” said Willow, reaching up and brushing some of Tara’s hair away from her face, her eyes adjusted enough to the dark to see things in moderate detail.



“After the coroner, I tried to think of who to call.” Tara explained, “yours was the first name that came to my mind…”



Willow could feel Tara starting to lean closer to her. She wasn’t sure what Tara was trying to do. Move in for a hug, maybe? Or trying to see her more clearly in the dark? Whatever the reason for it, Willow stayed still and let the blonde approach.



“Your number was the only one I could remember to dial.” Tara leant forward and placed her head on Willow’s shoulder. She felt Willow relax underneath her and Willow’s arm come around to cradle her back.



“You didn’t think to call Lisa first?”



“I couldn’t handle the idea of being alone with Mom when I called her.”



Willow tightened her hold and bent her face down and delicately kissed Tara on the forehead, a show of affection and support.



Tara stayed still for a moment after the light peck, then lifted her chin to look up at Willow’s face looking back at her. Willow examined Tara’s face carefully, hoping she hadn’t overstepped any bounds by kissing her on the forehead. Unfortunately it was too dark to really see the expression on the blonde’s face, so she settled for just holding her gaze as best she could. Slowly, hesitantly, Tara found herself leaning her lips up to Willow’s. Willow didn’t move, didn’t breath; she closed her eyes and waited.



Lips touched, softly at first, and then gradually began to move against each other, with increasing force and urgency. Willow finally exhaled, and brought her free hand up to cup Tara’s face. Tara reached up her hands and gripped Willow’s head through her hair, her fingers tangling in auburn locks, holding their faces together. Lips parted and tongues sought out their openings to explore new territory. Tara’s kiss became frantic and frenzied so much that Willow almost couldn’t keep up. Realizing what was happening, and why, Willow brought her hands up over Tara’s and drew them down between their bodies, holding them their firmly. She pulled her face away from the blonde’s, and when Tara began to follow, pulled even further back.



“Tara, stop”, Willow commanded, firmly but gently. “This isn’t right.”



“I thought you loved me.” Her voice was soft and pleading.



“I do. God, you know I do”, Willow had to practically stifle a sob. “But this isn’t what you want.”



“How do you know what I want?” she asked plaintively.



“Because there is no way that you can know”, the redhead explained. “Not now. Not at this moment. Whether you understand it or not, your heart is just trying to fill the sudden hole that’s there now. Fill it with something tangible and powerful…I love you too much to let you make such a mistake in a moment of grief.”



Tara nodded slowly, and gradually pulled away from Willow to sit back on her haunches.



“Plus I’m selfish”, Willow added, “Because if and when you are ever with me, I want it to be because you just want to be with me… and for no other reason.”



“I’m sorry”, she said, tears beginning to spill again from her eyes.



Willow quickly moved to the other girl and enveloped her in a warm hug. “Sh, it’s okay”, she soothed, “sweetie, it’s okay. I’m not mad. I’m not upset at all. I’m only here for you. We’ll get through this, okay?”



Tara pressed her eyes against Willow shoulder, soaking the fabric of her shirt with her tears and held on with all her might.



**********

TBC...

"Promise me you'll never be linear." "On my trout."

YES, YES, YES, YEEES!!!



Washi, it seems it's all your fault! You're da kitten, man!!!



But more important than that, DarkWiccan, thank you for continuing this wonderful story. It was so sad, wonderful, haunting that it stayed with me since you originally started it (and especially after you said that you wouldn't continue) and I immediately recognized the title when I saw the repost.

I'm so very happy that you will continue it.

_________________

Independence is my happiness, and I view things as they are, without regard to place or person; my country is the world, and my religion is to do good.

I've kissed her best friend. I've reached into her best friend's pocket and fished around for keys. And I gave her best friend my number. I must be doing something totally, totally wrong... - TBSOL by Dreams

Oh wow, I don't know who to pounce on and cyber-hug first...Washi or DarkWiccan but all I can say right now is Yay!!



few minutes later

This is absolutely wonderful and I'm so glad you're reposting. Like Diebrock said, this is one of those fics that stayed with you for a very long time after you read it and you couldn't help going back to it and read it again and again.

--------------------------

Tinna Karen

-tölvunörd í fyrsta ættlið

I loved reading this again..It's so amazing, and heart wrenching . Love sammi xx

"Sometimes things happen between people that you don't really expect. And sometimes the things that are important are the ones that seem the weirdest or the most wrong. And those are the ones that change your life." - Jessie Sammler (Evan Rachel Wood)

Amazing story.

Really Glad that you started to finish it. And Im super happy that i found it again.

Great writing. Can't wait to read mre.

GO Washi it's your fault GO Washi it's your fault....Washi you rock man...D.W. finally got back to this fic...YaY!!!!!...*gives Washi a hug tackling her*...thank you thank you thank you....D.W. I like fics where Tara's straight and Willow's gay it gives us a chance to see what Tara went through when Willow was straight..keep up the good work man..update soon too...Lisa is a bitch. I can't believe she isn't there to help her own Mom. There's no excuse for that even if it's hard to watch your mom die you should at least try to be there for her anyway you can. Tara is a strong girl to do that...I just hope Willow is there to help her..she'll need it..





Tisha

Well thank you DarkWiccan and Washi for prompting the continuation of this story. I really enjoyed what has been written so far.



It was very sad that Mrs Maclay died and I wonder how this will change things for Tara and will Mr Maclay make an appearance now? It's a very interesting story and some of your dialogue, especially Willow's internal babble had me laughing out loud. I'm looking forward to seeing what happens next, thank you again for continuing with this

---

So, the day started and I knew my name and had my pants on. So far, so good. Yay.
Amber Benson

Hi,

This story is wicked! I think you've done their emotions really well, and effectively. Hope for an update soonish?



Hannah

You know, Washi, that's anothing reason for me to send you chocolate. DW, you know what I think so I don't even need to post it. Talent, my dear, pure talent.

Time flies by when the Devil drives.
It's not the pace of life that concerns me, it's the sudden stop at the end.

Go Washi, it's yo birfday, we'z gonna partay like its yo birfday, we gon' sip bacardi like its yo birfday..



Washi, I love you.



Oh! And you too DarkWiccan! <33333



It's awesome thus forth, and it seems like Tara'd really appreciate the fact that Will was being so growed ( sorry .. watching the rugrats, ) up!



Keep it up, but don't forget about Broadway Baby!



-Willowhanded/Kristi

this fic is sooo good most of the time fics are of tara lovin' willow but she doesnt love her back. i like this change. cant wait for the next update.

Oh my god! It finally happened!!!! An update!!!

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY!!!!!

Wooooohooooo!!! Wheeeeeeeeeeee!!!!



thank you. thank you. thank you.



more please.



Mai

this is good.





keep going





brittney

I think that maybe DW got my telepatic message, since I've been reading and rereading this and bawling my eyes out and just trying to imagine how it would go.

DW, this fic is THE fic that makes me bawl every freakin' time, and that's a big achievement, since I'm not a softy.

I cannot applaud you enough, or well, I could, but my hands would be very very sore.

So, please, accept this: YOU RAWK!

-------------------



"See? I've mastered this tact crap." Anya in Tears Of The Goddess by Lisa



The course of love doesn’t always run smooth, especially for the neurotic and accident-prone. ~ LadyB



.:Dark-bliss.net :. .:Blink.Flash.Sparkle.:. .:My blog:. .:Blood and Ink:. .:Washi's 70s Site:.

Wow. I remember this story, and I was wondering what happened to it. The emotions from both women are just so powerful.



I hope you are able to finish now.

Tara: My heart doesn't stutter.


Tara: Willow, I got so lost.

Willow: I found you. I will always find you.

Dude,

I just wanted to say, that I have been a fan of yours for a while. I recently joined the Kitten Board, and I'm trying to give props to all of my fave authors, and you are one of them. Please keep up all of the good work.

peace and chicken grease

katie-o

Edited by: Warduke at: 3/17/04 9:40 pm

Wow! What an amazing response! I can't get over it. I didn't realize so many of you had been fans of this fic 'o' mine.



I'll post replies to all of your lovely comments tomorrow.



In the meantime, here's a short update (PS, get your hankies).

__________________________________________________





Willow sat behind the desk in her office fiddling with a half-empty bottle of water and staring blankly at her screen. It had been a week since Tara’s mother had passed away, and two days since they had laid her in the earth.



It was Willow’s first day back at work, and she just could not seem to focus on anything. She didn’t even notice Dawn enter the room and stand expectantly by her desk until the young girl deliberately cleared her throat.



Willow looked up and saw the brunette standing there. “Yeah”, she stated distantly.



“Um, Krystal Press is on the line”, Dawn explained hesitantly, “are you available?”



Willow thought about it for a moment. “No”, she said finally, “tell them I’m in a meeting.”



Dawn shifted a little on her feet. “They’ve been calling all week…”



“I’m in a meeting,” she repeated.



“Okay”, she acquiesced, turning on her heel to go.



“Dawn”, Willow called after, “tell them I’ll fax the preliminaries tomorrow morning.”



Dawn gave a small smile and nodded, quickly leaving the room.



Willow took a swig of her water and then set the bottle back on her desk. Her brain felt numb… the rest of her did too.



She had never really known Tara’s mother. When she had first met Tara five years before, Mrs. Maclay was already sick, and tended to stay out of site. Mrs. Maclay, or Grace as Willow now knew her first name, had sort of become this phantom figure, always looming in the background, present only in the impact her condition had on her daughters’ lives.



The funeral had been… hard. Willow had wanted nothing more than to stand by Tara’s side and offer her support, but it had proved impossible. Both Tara and her sister had been sequestered behind a mass of relatives who had never even shown their faces, let alone their concern, for the girls when Grace was still alive. Tara’s expression throughout had been one of suppressed anxiety, her eyes were wide and darted to and fro, and Willow could tell even from a distance that she was breathing short shallow wisps of air. It’s a wonder the blonde hadn’t fainted. Willow knew well enough why so many of Tara’s relatives were suddenly there, and it had nothing to do with consoling the girls. It was the Will.



The Maclays had always been an affluent family. After the divorce, Grace had received a healthy settlement, more than enough for her and her two daughters to live comfortably for quite a while. Even with the medical bills and funeral expenses, there was more than enough left behind that Tara and Lisa would never really want for anything, provided they lived within reason and not to excess.



Everyone knew that Grace had left a Last Will and Testament, and the redhead could tell by the differing expressions of anticipation on all of Tara’s relatives faces that they each hoped to get a piece of the leftover pie.



It turned out that Grace had chosen to split everything fifty-fifty between Tara and Lisa, with Tara acting as the custodian of Lisa’s share until her younger sister turned twenty-one. A fact that Lisa was upset about, but that Tara seemed satisfied with, especially given Lisa’s penchant for spending money recklessly.



How Tara had made it through that day without having a complete nervous breakdown, or pulling a knife on one of her relatives, Willow could only marvel.



The redhead took another drink of water and wiped her upper lip with the pad of her thumb.



She thought about how after the Will had been read, most of the relatives made polite, yet hasty exits. After all, with nothing coming to them why should they stay, except of course for the bothersome reasons of morals and ethics.



After everyone had left, and Lisa retired to her room, Willow and Tara had found themselves alone, surrounded by a sea of casseroles and comfort food in Tupperware. The redhead had set about to collecting the dishes and placing them in the fridge and had already gotten four tuna noodle casseroles and 2 meat pies neatly organized on the cold racks when she felt Tara gently touch her arm.



“Don’t”, the blonde had said simply. But when Willow regarded her with a look of confusion she went on, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll… … I’ll clean all this up.”



“No”, Willow gently countered. “You’ve been cleaning up after other people long enough. Let me help.”



Tara took a step back from her and looked down so that her gaze fell just below the redhead’s eyes. “Willow”, she stated softly, but firmly, “I don’t know what to do with myself. Please let me feel useful in my own home.”



Willow had nodded and stepped aside, letting Tara pass. The blonde placed a single casserole dish in the fridge next to the others. She gripped the door and frame tightly, suddenly feeling the world spin out from beneath her feet. Willow was instantly there, catching her as she began to sway backwards in a near faint.



“I’ve got you”, Willow assured her as she held her firmly around the waist from behind. “Just breathe.”



Tara caught her breath and somehow managed to right herself in Willow’s arms. She placed her hands on top of the redhead’s and maneuvered herself out of them, stepping away and turning to look back at the girl standing there. “I think I’m going to lie down for a while,” she announced.



“Of course”, Willow agreed, “I’ll stay he—“



“No”, Tara cut her off, “No that’s okay. You can go.”



“I’d rather—“



“No… No, I’d feel better if you…” Tara somehow found it in her to look up into Willow’s eyes, “I want you to go.”



Willow stood perfectly still, unsure what to do. Her chest suddenly felt very tight and constricted and a hard lump formed in her throat. She tried to swallow it away. “All…Alright. If that’s what you want”, she nodded painfully, “I’ll go.”



“Just for now”, the blonde appealed. “I just need a little time.”



“I understand…”



“I’ll call you.”



“Yes”, Willow smiled half-heartedly. “When you feel up to it.”



“Alright.”



“Or if you need anything…”



“I know.”



The girls stood staring awkwardly at each other. Tara held her arms forward to her friend, inviting her in for a good-bye hug. Willow stepped forward hesitantly, taking the girl in her arms. The hug was terrible and uncomfortable and wreaked with the complexity of everything. Willow pulled out of it quickly and gestured lamely in the direction of the front door.



“I’ll just go then”, she said, bobbing her head a little before making a wobbly turn on her heel and heading for the door.



Willow blinked her eyes and shook her head at the memory of that horrible afternoon. Tara still hadn’t called in the two days since. She stared once again at the computer screen in front of her. Nothing was going to come from her being at work this day.



“Dawn!” she called out from her seat.



The brunette instantly appeared in the doorway, her long hair swaying a bit from her sudden rush down the hall. She stared at Willow expectantly, waiting for some instruction.



“I’m going out”, the redhead announced, “I won’t be back today.” Dawn continued to gaze at her, her expression turning to worry. “If anyone calls”, she went on, “tell them… tell them I’m still out on bereavement.”



“Will you be in tomorrow?” the young woman inquired.



Willow didn’t answer at first, merely standing from her seat and grabbing her coat, staring at the tag inside the collar. She stepped over to Dawn still standing in the doorway and moved a few paces past her before turning her head over her shoulder and saying, “I’ll call”, then disappearing down the hall and through the front door.



************

TBC...

"Promise me you'll never be linear." "On my trout."

HEY... just want to say i'm loving it so far!... i feel so bad for willow ... and then all the things happenin to tara... ... update soon??? pretty please... with cherry on top...

Edited by: Warduke at: 3/18/04 8:01 am

Awww..wonderful update . So lovely. Love sammi xx

"Sometimes things happen between people that you don't really expect. And sometimes the things that are important are the ones that seem the weirdest or the most wrong. And those are the ones that change your life." - Jessie Sammler (Evan Rachel Wood)

Ouch! That would hurt! Tara's in a tough place right then, and I know that some people cook or clean to stay busy, but still, ouch.

Maybe it's because I look at this from Willow's POV. And from Willow's POV, Tara's just pushing her away again. It's that moment when you have to be noble and just nod and go, walk away even if your heart is breaking inside. Ok, I'll stop the drama.

As always, looking forward to more.

-------------------



"See? I've mastered this tact crap." Anya in Tears Of The Goddess by Lisa



The course of love doesn’t always run smooth, especially for the neurotic and accident-prone. ~ LadyB



.:Dark-bliss.net :. .:Blink.Flash.Sparkle.:. .:My blog:. .:Blood and Ink:. .:Washi's 70s Site:.

"I want you to go."



Owiiee. (quoting Rachel Green) That's just kick-you-in-the-crotch, spit-on-your-neck-fantastic.



But I can understand and see where Tara is coming from, this must be killing her just as much as it's killing Willow.



There's so much emotion in each update DarkWiccan. How do you do it?

--------------------------

Tinna Karen

-tölvunörd í fyrsta ættlið

I...love..this...fic





updates soon? Pwease?



Seriously, though, brilliant fic. Tinnakaren is right-sp much emotion. Ive been pulled right it!

congrats!

*hugz*

~Gabs

"I'm known as the fat lesbian chick on Buffy. Of course, I mean you stand me next to an actress like Sarah and I look like I'll eat her. *beat* Wait, that didn't sound right. But, you know what I mean."-Amber

Whoa You weren't kidding me last night, were you dear? Hope I didn't depress you into writing this update LOL God knows my life stories are enough to make anyone want to slit their wrists in anguish. But you've captured the ladies' pain here very well...family illness and subsequent death are always really hard on relationships, especially the ones that run deepest.

Time flies by when the Devil drives.
It's not the pace of life that concerns me, it's the sudden stop at the end.

Since at this point many of you have responded more than once, you will find answers to all of your questions at once...



Replies:



Washi-- Yes, dude, it is all your fault. Take your praise and run with it.

Quote:

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I do hope that Willow won't just be there for her when Tara needs her, it's unfair to Willow

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I agree, and this is going to be a major issue that our girls will be dealing with as the story progresses.

Quote:

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DW, this fic is THE fic that makes me bawl every freakin' time, and that's a big achievement, since I'm not a softy.

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*G* Okay, I guess I should feel bad about making you cry... but..hehe... I don't

Quote:

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Maybe it's because I look at this from Willow's POV. And from Willow's POV, Tara's just pushing her away again

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Bingo! On the nosey! You are correct! This is exactly why I wrote from our fave redhead's eyes. Going back to the previous update, the fact that Willow had fallen into such deep despair in such little time is very telling and very unhealthy. Wills here is a bit obsessed, and as a result her judgement is a little clouded and skewed... this is definitely another issue that has be dealt with before our two girls can have anything resembling a happy ending.

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Ok, I'll stop the drama.

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You had better not!! I am still waiting for an update to Dark Core!! and hullo? what about Here Without You? Back to work!!



Diebrock --

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. It was so sad, wonderful, haunting that it stayed with me since you originally started it

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I've been hearing that from a lot of peeps. I hadn't realized how deeply this story had affected so many people. This is a tough story to write, so the fact that I was able to pull myself back to the task of working on it... well... I'm surprised by me.



tinnakaren --

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That's just kick-you-in-the-crotch, spit-on-your-neck-fantastic

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Um... thanks?

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There's so much emotion in each update DarkWiccan. How do you do it?

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Well...believe it or not... that's an easy question to answer. I take myself to a really deep, dark, depressing place and simply channel that pain into my writing. This is why I originally stopped writing this story, because I fell so far into that I was starting to fear I couldn't snap out of it... well, there was another reason in addition to that, but we won't go into that... EVER. So... when I go to this depressing place I call "The Land of No Ponies" (long story) I am generally consumed by a pathos so dense that if I had a therapist, she'd be very concerned... but because I am an artist (pronounced AR-TEEST) I somehow get away with it. But having said all that, I hope that all of you kitties will understand if I need to take a few lengthy breaks while continuing to write this story.



sam darls -- You're welcome and thank you.



cutie pie -- I love your name. It's great. I get this wonderful image of you looking like Strawberry Shortcake. (That's a compliment, BTW..I've always had a thing for redheads who live in pastries).



Seldomly Naughty --

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Lisa is a bitch. I can't believe she isn't there to help her own Mom.

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Lisa is a teenager and dealing with the tragedy of her mother's illness in a very teenage way. Does this excuse her behavior?...No. But it does make it a little bit more understandable.



Puff -- I haven't decided yet if Tara's father is going to show up. But at this point I think it's pretty doubtful.



musicmad --Thank you!



kieli --

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You weren't kidding me last night, were you dear? Hope I didn't depress you into writing this update LOL

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No...but you did make me contemplate having a drink in recognition of our "nights so heinous that they have their own NAME". IE, Tequila Night...Vodka Night...etc... But I had to work today so instead of drinking... I started writing.



willowhanded -- Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Broadway Baby at all. It's just set aside for a couple of days so I can work on this fic...



Quirky Canadian -- Thanks!!



cinderlust -- You're welcome.



amazonaa -- Thank you



The Rose24 --

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I hope you are able to finish now.

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Me too.



kop4parker -- Wow, thanks. Glad to have you here at DCP. I'm flattered that you've been a long time reader. Makes me feel loved.



lil wiccan -- It will take a while... but they will eventually work through everything.



gabbles -- Thanks! And can I just say... I LOVE your quote... made me rotflmao!



PHEW!! I'm done. I hope I didn't skip anyone accidentally... if I did, I'm sorry... let me know.



Cheers

DW

so I've been on leave of absence from the Pens (involuntarily) and I take two minutes to swing by, see this familiar title in the works and make the time to reread (Real Life be damned!!). really great stuff. I love the twist of Willow being gay and in love with an unsure Tara with the added obstacle of Tara's mother dying slowly from cancer. fics that deal with either are rare and seeing them together really resonates: Willow wanting desperately to help/be with Tara while Tara is numb from fatigue, depression and loss, so overwhelmed she can't even begin to deal with her feelings for her 'friend'. I'm sorry you have to go to such a dark place to write it, but I am (guiltily) glad you did/do.



thanks for this,

xomel

Ah that was great. Painful to read, especially when Tara sent Willow away, but still great. I am very glad that you are continuing on with this fic.

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So, the day started and I knew my name and had my pants on. So far, so good. Yay.
Amber Benson

Well this brings back memories... indicating that it was a good story since I actually do remember most of the setup, not-helping-much sister included . Don't really remember what I commented on back then but I still find it amazing Tara managed to cope as long as she did without much outside help.



Tara not knowing if she's gay is indeed something you don't see very often in stories, as is the fact that Willow is a bit much obsessed with Tara (seems that way). Usually we have to worry about Tara idolizing Willow, neat to see it the other way around :-)



Tara sending Willow away was painfull but understandable (from Tara's pov), too bad Willow doesn't attempt to view it that way. Given that Tara fainted about five minutes before however... does inspire much faith in a good outcome of that decision. Willow could at least have insisted on Tara lying down before she left. It's worriesome Willow hasn't heard from Tara for several days now, for all we know she fainted when walking up to her room and got knocked unconcious. (yeah I know, I worry too much :-)



You certainly have a rather drastic way of getting inspiration to write this fic. Makes me feel guilty about reading it. I don't want you (or any writer for that matter) to feel bad just to write this story. No wonder you stopped with this story the first time. I do remember reading about this story not being continued, that was due to 'personal reasons' at the time so I figured I better not ask. I suppose Washi managed to work around that and get you to write this story again



Hmm... just in case I didn't comment on it the first time around; I did like the 'I wish' part of Willow's letter. Pretty much echos my thoughts for Tara in this story, especially the 'freedom' part.



I do wonder about the coroner leaving Tara in the state Willow found her in. Maybe it's just me but I wouldn't have left anyone like that, doesn't seem healthy or 'proper' (for lack of a better word).



And yeah, no doubt a LOT of people remember this story when it first came around. It has a rather different AU with interesting changes even compared to other AU's. Different stories are easier to remember . Guess that goes to show a lot more people read the stories than you would guess on feedback alone .



I wish you lots of happiness and joy in life, even while that may delay further updates to this story .



Grimmy

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"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine