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Chapter 3: Home is where you rest your head.[/center]
Rating (by chapter): PG.
Disclaimer: Willow, Tara, and any other Mutant Enemy characters that might creep in are not mine. Nobody's getting paid for this, and that's really just fine.
Feedback: Yes, please!
Distribution: Oh, anywhere is fine, just ask first? I like knowing where it goes.
Spoilers: None.
Notes: The song sung by all the people preparing food is really rather fun. I'd link to it, but of course I can't link yet.
But I
highly suggest going to youtube and searching for 'old dun cow'. And singing along, because why not? Seriously, choose one where there are lots of people singing (I suggest the Kentucky Highland ren faire folks) and sing along--it'll enhance the experience, I promise you!
Summary: A week after their initial meeting, Willow spends an evening with unshielded Tara for the first time.
"Willow, are the leeks ready yet?"
Willow was shaken from her reverie by the sound of her teacher's voice calling to her from across the big community kitchen.
The leeks... yeah... OK, they're done when you can put a knife through to the middle of the thickest part without resistance...
The vegetables passed the test. "Yep!" she replied, raising her voice to make it heard across the busy pavillion. "Hey, Virgil, give a girl a little help?" She held out one of her oversized woolen mittens to the tall, bearded man who was at the table nearby shelling almonds and pecans. He flashed her a friendly smile, and the two of them carried the steaming pot off of the fire and onto the central prep table.
"Watch out, folks," she announced with exaggerated warning as they set it down onto the cool marble surface. "These babies are really
steamed!"
Ignoring the groans and raspberries this earned her from the families who were at the table chopping and peeling, she scampered over next to Kate, who was putting blueberries into a pie crust. "Mmm, pie!"
The older woman laughed at her enthusiasm and gave her a couple of berries, which Willow eagerly ate. "The wheat and amaranth were plentiful this year. There's been enough flour for little treats like pies and cookies."
"Mmmmm", the redhead enthused, rubbing her belly to emphasise her point. "That sounds like a good year in my book!"
The laughter this earned was almost as great a reward as the extra berries Willow snuck out of the pie. She tossed two in her mouth as she turned to go help Jackie and Mason with the salmon.
"She'll catch you doing that eventually," Mason warned her good-naturedly as she sat down and took up a filleting knife, shoving the remaining blueberries in her belt-pouch.
Jackie snorted with amusement. "There's my man's eagle eye at work. She knows already, you great lug, it's a game they play." Her fond smile gave the lie to the insulting banter. "Now, what was that song you were singing the other day? Let's hear it again."
Mason grinned and started to sing. Soon the whole kitchen was picking it up, and even Willow, who usually let others do the singing, joined in on the chorus.
Some friends and I in a public house
Were playing dominoes one night
When into the room a fireman came,
His face all chalky white
"What's up?" says Brown, "Have you seen a ghost?"
"Have you seen your Aunt Moriah?"
"Me Aunt Moriah be buggered," says he,
"The bleeding pubs on fire!"
And there was Brown, upside down
Mopping up the whiskey on the floor
"Booze, booze" the firemen cried
As they come a knockin' at the door
"Well don't let em in till it's all mopped up,"
Somebody shouted, "MacIntyre"
And we all got blue blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire!
"Oh," says Brown, "What a bit of luck
Everybody follow me!
It's down to the cellar if the fire's not there
Then we'll have a grand old spree."
So we all went down with good old Brown
And the booze we could not miss
And we hadn't been there ten minutes or more
Till we were quite like this...
And there was Brown, upside down
Mopping up the whiskey on the floor
"Booze, booze" the firemen cried
As they come a knockin' at the door
"Well don't let em in till it's all mopped up,"
Somebody shouted, "MacIntyre"
And we all got blue blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire!
Then Smith ran over to the port wine tub
And gave it just a few hard knocks
He started taking off his pantaloons
Likewise his shoes and socks
"Oh no," says Brown, "That t'ain't allowed
You can't do that there
Don't be washing your trotters in the port wine tub
When we got some Coors Lite beer!"
And there was Brown, upside down
Mopping up the whiskey on the floor
"Booze, booze" the firemen cried
As they come a knockin' at the door
"Well don't let em in till it's all mopped up,"
Somebody shouted, "MacIntyre"
And we all got blue blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire!
The rest of the time passed in much the same way, with more songs and cameraderie and cooperation. Willow only cut herself once, and didn't burn herself at all, and if she had ruined any food, no one had noticed yet. All in all, she felt she was getting better at this cooking stuff.
Then it was over, and people were drifting back and forth with the food, some eating in the kitchen, some at their home. The spell of the cameraderie slowly faded and Willow was left with her excitement and nervousness.
Carefully, and with much attention to detail, she boxed up two meals worth of food into two of the bento-ish lunchbox things that everyone used here. Catching her teacher's eye, she grinned and set off with the boxes.
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It was a pleasant walk up the path that led to the section of homes she was looking for. The sun was rapidly approaching the horizon, lending the sky a reddish hue, the birds and insects were starting to make their evening noises, and the smells drifting up from the boxes she carried were making her very hungry indeed.
Arriving at the third house on the row, Willow found Jody sitting on the porch. The librarian stood as she approached. She had dressed for the occasion, in a very flattering loose-knit red sweater, and she had her hair pinned up with two slender wooden sticks. But her expression was serious.
"Last chance, Willow. Are you certain you're up for this?"
Willow gave the woman her most confident smile. She knew she was an open book to her, unable to hide her nervousness.
But I'll just bet intention counts, too. And determination, and trust, and all those other things. So, since I know Tara won't hurt me, and I'm determined to be careful and remember my meditation if I have to, and since I know the nervousness is really just because it's something out of my control that I haven't experienced before, and since... oh, goddess, I'm just standing here looking like an idiot, aren't I?
"One hundred percent!" she quickly answered.
An amused, knowing look was her response.
She's not a telepath, Willow reminded herself,
she's like Tara, can't read thoughts, only emotions. She definitely does not
hear the babble in my head!
Jody stepped down off the porch and winked at her as she passed. "Yeah. You'll be fine. Anything I should know?"
"Nope! She's waiting at the kitchen. Enjoy your moonlight picnic!"
Willow swallowed her nerves, and went inside the house.
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Willow followed the sound of a stringed instrument being fumblingly played. It led her to a room at the back of the house where she found Tara on a stool, hunched over a battered old guitar and repeating scales over and over. Willow found herself concentrating heavily, even single-mindedly, on the music, until Tara happened to glance up and the spell was broken.
"Willow!" shouted the blonde, who carefully leaned the guitar against a wall and rushed over for a hug.
"Hold on, let me put these down..." Moments later, the hug was returned. Tara was beaming as they seperated, and Willow found she couldn't stop smiling either. She was just so unbelievably happy to see her friend! Why had she even bothered to be nervous before?
Oh, yeah, she reminded herself.
This is why.
Aloud, she said, "We're looping, Tara." She giggled, trying to keep her composure enough to give the message. "Positive feedback. I'm happy to see you, which makes you happier to see me, which makes me happier to see you..." She drifted off. It really wasn't important, all that was important was being here with Tara and how
amazing it felt...
But the message had been recieved. Tara's eyes widened and then closed as she began breathing deeply. The extreme euphoria started to wash away, and Willow was able to calm down and order her thoughts. Pretty sure that the guilt and shame she was starting to feel weren't hers, she reached out and put a hand on the blonde's shoulder. After a moment Tara opened her eyes, though she wouldn't meet her friend's.
"S-sorry I-" she started, but Willow interrupted.
"You kidding? That was kinda fun. Did that used to happen a lot?"
Tara shook her head. "No..." Ducking her head a bit, she let her hair obscure her face. "I g-guess it's still getting s-stronger."
"Well," said Willow with an air of cheerful smugness, "Either that, or you've just never had a friend you were so happy to see before." She picked up the boxes of food. "Shall we dine?"
Tara's expression was enthusiastic. "Yes! I'm
really hungry!"
"Me, too," Willow laughed. "Of course. Lead the way!"
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The dining room was very pretty, by Willow's standards. She'd eaten here a few times before, as a guest, but it felt different when it was just her and Tara. Sort of empowering. She set the boxes down on the table and started opening them, while Tara got them some water.
"I hope you're not hungry for shrimp," Willow called out, "because I didn't bring any."
The sound of her friend's laughter echoed from the next room. "That was so weird. I wonder why she picked shrimp, of all things!"
Concentrating, Willow carefully unpacked Tara's meal and set it up in a pretty arrangement in front of one of the chairs. She scrutinized it for a moment, then reached into the pouch tied at her waist and pulled out her remaining blueberries and the chocolate chip cookie she had saved from yesterday. She quickly unwrapped the cookie from its cloth and set it down in a carefully chosen spot for maximum presentation. The blueberries just got dropped next to the salmon, because she heard Tara coming back into the room. Quickly, Willow dashed around the table and started calmly unpacking her own food.
"I brought some wine, in case you wanted it," Tara was saying as she came in with a tray loaded with cups, water pitcher, and wine bottle. "Jody said as long as we only have one glass each, we-" She stopped short, staring at her place setting, and Willow took the sudden rush of wonder and gratitude as a sign of a job well done.
"Willow, I... You..." Tara put the tray down on the table and went to stand in front of her food.
"I wanted you to have a special meal. I know not being able to go anywhere without Jody must suck sometimes. Not that she's bad company, just that you get stuck here a lot when she goes off to do something. So... I thought this might help, a little."
The blonde slowly sat down, staring at all the food arranged before her, clearly preplanned and set up with care. "Willow..." she started, then stopped. "Willow, wh-what you said before... What y-you said about never having a friend I was s-so happy to see before...", she looked up at Willow, meeting her eyes through her draping locks of hair, "I-its true."
The air was thick with embarrasment and earnest feeling, but Willow breathed through it, using the meditative exercises Kate had drilled into her months ago. "Me, too," she said simply, smiling a shy smile, and picked up her fork.
They ate in silence for a while, the room being thick with emotions rushing by too fast to be labeled or identified. Eventually things calmed a bit, and conversation started.
Willow was the first to break the silence. "You look nice in your new outfit," she said, referencing the black belted tunic her friend was wearing, with a deep blue skirt and blue knit jacket. "I mean, your travelling clothes were great--who doesn't like leather?--totally great, but this is a nice change, too. Less like you're gonna up and go, and more... comfy, you know? And it totally brings out your eyes!"
Tara didn't seem to know how to respond, just staring at her food and smiling, mumbling something that could have been 'thanks', so Willow changed the subject. "So, I think I'm doing better. At cooking, I mean. I'm not screwing things up nearly as much, or hurting myself, um, very often. And I think I'm even starting to enjoy the experience."
Tara made a sound that Willow realized a moment later was her trying to hold back a laugh. "I figured," the girl said, her voice thick with repressed laughter. "I could hear you shouting 'MacIntyre' all the way from here!"
Willow blushed. "Well... it's a fun song!"
They sat for a moment in silence, looking at each other, identical looks of mischief on their faces. Suddenly they both lifted their heads and belted out, 'MacIntyyyyre!!!', before collapsing into fits of giggles.
This time it was Tara that regained her senses first. Pushing the laughter down, she asked, "Why does she insist on you learning to cook, anyhow? I know it's a great skill to have, but the way she insists on it makes it seem particularly im-p-portant, somehow."
"Oh, it is! It's a parallel skill, in a lot of ways. Preparing a meal and preparing a spell have a lot in common--for instance, you can either put a lot of preparation and thought into something, and spend time and attention on it, and you'll get something wonderful, or you can just sort of throw things together at the spur of the moment, and it'll probably be OK, but it won't get you the same quality of results. Also, learning how to anticipate the results of the mixing of different elements--of power, or of flavour--to create something new... it's all related. What?"
Tara had a strange look on her face. The feelings wafting around weren't anything Willow could get a handle on, so she didn't have any clue what her friend was thinking.
Tara shrugged. "I just enjoy it when you explain things," she said simply.
Willow determinedly held back another blush. "So what about you, then? Playing guitar doesn't sound much like a way of taking control of your psychic powers."
Tara nodded. "Yeah, I know. Turns out it is, though. It's... music is a way of, of channeling your feelings. It's powerful, and direct, but it's just
indirect enough that you can seperate yourself from it, sort of. It stays honest, but it's coming
through something, so there's sort of a distance..." She frowned with a look of disappointment. "I'm not explaining this well."
Willow shook her head. "No, keep trying. You can do it."
The blonde's disappointed frown stretched up into a little smile. After a few moments, she started again. "The empathy is like... there are these feelings, and whether they're coming in or they're going out, you're
connected to all of them, like they're part of you. You know?"
The redhead nodded thoughtfully. It certainly matched her own experiences of being inside the field of emotion, so far.
"Well," Tara went on, "making music--really reaching out with it--is sort of like, there are these feelings, and whether they're coming in or going out, they're not about
you, exactly, they're about the music. You're there, you're participating, but it's not all you. You're not so directly connected. And that's how it works with the gift, too--the more you learn to set up that space, that lack of total identification with the feelings... once there is a boundary that deliniates you from not-you, then the gift starts becoming a
part of you, instead of something that encompasses you. You see?"
"See?" Willow grinned. "I more than see, I totally get it. You explained perfectly."
"It's h-harder than it sounds," Tara said with an embarrased look.
"Oh, yeah, I get that. Oh! Oh, I
really get it a lot, all of a sudden. It's like, emotions, feelings... they hit us below the level of reasoning. They grab us by the gut, by the heart, and that's just way,
way deeper than thought. It's deeper than the place where we say 'this is me, and that isn't', because that's how feelings
work, how they motivate us, by pushing and pulling on the deepest, most basic parts of us. Of
course it's gonna be hard to exert any sort of control over that, even once you know what you're doing! You're having to sort of change the flow of your whole subconscious, like changing all the pipes around in a dark, flooded basement. Wow, Tara, that's amazing. You're like, the bravest plumber ever!" She was quiet for a moment, not moving. Then, too embarrased to change expression, "I just said something amazingly lame, didn't I?"
Tara smiled, a crooked little smile that Willow was really starting to look forward to. "No, Willow. It was perfect."
The two sat there for a while, letting the happiness and connection flow around them. Then as one they got up to clear off the table and take care of the dishes.
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The dishes finished and the food boxes put away, Willow stood outside at the water pump with her friend. The night air had developed a bit of a chill to it, and Willow was regretting not bringing a shawl.
Maybe Tara will let me borrow a blanket for the walk ho-
"Want to stay over tonight?"
"Sure!"
Well, I guess I don't have to worry about that!
Tara's room had only one bed, but between the two of them they were able to bring together enough pillows, cushions, and blankets to make a very comfortable nest-y sort of thing next to the bed. Tara put out all the candles in the house and the two lay near each other, quietly talking about nothing in particular, for a while. Sooner than they realized, though, sleep claimed them both.
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"Looks like things went well."
"Did you ever doubt they would?"
"Nah, I guess not."
"Do you think they know yet, that they're made for each other?"
Hushed laughter. "Oh, hell yeah. It's written all over them. But they don't
know that they know, yet. Stubbornly dense, these two."
"You should talk. How many years did it take before
you finally--"
"OK, OK, I surrender. I'm dense, too." A pause. "They're dreaming the same dream."
"You stay out of their dream! They deserve their privacy."
"I will, I will..." A low chuckle. "I suppose I'll just have to be in
your dreams tonight, instead."
"You always are. Let's go to bed."
"Sounds good to me."
TBC
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) around here so you won't have anything to worry about.
I'm all caught up now. I'm really enjoying reading your story. O'm really interested to see were this story is going.
