by AutumnT » Tue Feb 05, 2002 8:32 am
quote:
Originally posted by tommo:
seeing as that's all you're reading this bloody fic for anyway. Humph.
Nah, we're reading it for the cooking. Was the pepper steak integral to the plot? Are you going to deny us that next too? Those girls have to eat.
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Autumn
I'm just taking stuff and not paying for it. In what twisted dictionary is that stealing?
quote:by Quill » Tue Feb 05, 2002 8:51 am
I'm loving this fic!
by ShaggyKat » Tue Feb 05, 2002 8:55 am
by tommo » Tue Feb 05, 2002 9:17 am
Quill...um...taking the girls out of Sunnydale isn't as great an idea as you suggest. Er, most of the other stories I've written have taken Willow and Tara to...surprise surprise...the UK.
I was going on the basis that Tara likes Brits. How wrong can a girl be? Heh.
I was only kidding, by the way, about the smut. Mainly because it's already written. Neener neener neener.
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"Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one." she muttered... ~ Four Months After by Capt. Murdock
by Dumbsaint » Tue Feb 05, 2002 9:51 am
I, on the other hand, recognize your fic for what it truly is. Fine storytelling with just the right touches of romance, emotional honesty, character depth, compelling plotlines, yummy imagery, and yes, the occasional passage of righteously hot monkey love. Such passages, as we all know, have been known to prove that even the most prudish among us (coughcoughNICcough) are subject to the laws of the Trickle Down theory that was so popular back in the 80's. Oh, what? That theory pertains to economics? Nah uh! Really? Oh. I thought it had more to do with thighs and stickiness. But. Um. Nebbermind.
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Shiver me timberless.
by ShaggyKat » Tue Feb 05, 2002 2:33 pm
quote:
That theory pertains to economics? Nah uh! Really? Oh.
you are so bad. hahahaha I am so going to think bad thoughts everytime I hear the term now.
by tommo » Tue Feb 05, 2002 3:50 pm
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"Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one." she muttered... ~ Four Months After by Capt. Murdock
by Quill » Tue Feb 05, 2002 7:49 pm
by tommo » Wed Feb 06, 2002 3:28 am
Okay, next part. What can I say about this hmmm? It's short, I think. Just a little short interlude with Tara and Giles. I didn't want the girls to be monopolising his time but it's ended up that way somehow.
Anyway...enjoy.
Title: Touchstone
Rating: NC17, although not all chapters are, but this covers me for those bits that couldn’t possibly be anything else. Heh.
Copyright Disclaimer: Bowing and scraping does nothing for the knees. Joss…blah blah…Mutant Enemy…etc etc…sigh…
Feedback: Sure, if you feel that way inclined. My email is: tommo27@hotmail.com
Archive: Until I get my arse in gear and sort out my own W/T website, you can have this wherever you like it. I’m only too happy if someone else wants it. Just ask first, ok? Bad manners are nobody’s friend.
Summary: This takes place in my own Buffyverse, and if you’ve read any of my other stories, then you’ll know what I mean. Basically we follow the season events, but with a few changes. In fact, who am I kidding; I make direct references to my other fic, because I’m a whore like that. And I care…not one little bit. Ha. There are also Season 6 spoilers in this if that kind of thing bothers you. Don’t take it to heart if it does; they’re not like, big honkin’ spoilers or anything.
Part 5
The next morning the sun rose early, casting warm rays of sickly orange over the walls of the cottage and tempting the bruised blue of the sky to shade to purple and pink. As the first light peeked through the hastily drawn curtains in Willow and Tara’s room, the blonde opened her eyes and sat up in bed, reveling in the quiet stillness of dawn. Yawning, she brushed her hair out of her eyes and wondered at the capacity of her girlfriend to sleep all night even though they had only spent a few hours awake after their mid-afternoon nap. A fond smile crept over her lips as she looked down at the figure of Willow, curled like a kitten in the bed beside her. The redhead stirred slightly as Tara inched towards the edge of the bed, moving with caution so as not to disturb her lover. She herself had taken a long time to go to sleep, and hadn’t slept particularly well, despite the comforting pressure of Willow’s fingers on her midriff.
Pushing back the covers, Tara swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stifling a grin as Willow murmured something intelligible and turned over, throwing her arm carelessly over her eyes, red hair mussed up and unutterably cute. Tara sighed softly; she loved the way Willow muttered in her sleep and talked even more nonsense than when she was awake. She loved the way that Willow clung to her and caressed her in the dark hours of night, then smoothed her small body against her own in the early hours of morning. It was so good to have those sensations back again, she thought, padding across the heavy rug by the side of the bed to retrieve her sweater. She’d never told Willow, but she too had thought at one time that they might never find one another again. The idea had horrified her so much that she had probably been a much easier target than Buffy and Dawn had first suspected; when they had tried to being her and Willow back together Tara had found herself encouraging them secretly, wanting it more than ever before.
Slipping the red sweater over her head, she pulled it down over the t-shirt she had opted to sleep in, and pulled at the baggy pair of shorts she wore, changing them for a pair of sweatpants instead. A shiver worked its way down her spine, reminding her that the cottage was a lot colder than it had been last night. Pursing her lips, she glanced around the room, searching for anything that resembled a radiator or a heater at least.
Nothing.
Another sigh escaped her lips and she rummaged in one of her bags for socks, eventually finding a pair that she hoped would stop her feet from freezing up. By the time she made it over to the window, the sun had risen a little more and was warming the pane of glass that she leaned against to look outside.
The driveway that had led them to the cottage was overhung with trees of a varied nature; their branches intertwining with one another in close proximity so that it looked like two large hedges lined either side of the road. Pushing against the lines of trees, forests rose in deep verdant green, their depths stretching away from Tara’s gaze, beckoning her in. To the left of her gaze, the forest reached out to where rocky foothills rose like soldiers guarding some hallowed entry.
Almost hypnotized by the stretch of rock that rose up above the foothills, Tara felt that her eyes were magnetized by the rising hill. Her gaze reached up to where the mountain beyond loomed over the ground below, a colossus standing proudly over its kingdom.
She caught her breath. It was absolutely beautiful. The gray shadowed rock was almost glistening in parts where the sun’s rays hit it and bounced off again. Ruggedly dragging her eyes to its summit, it chose to hide coyly underneath a bodice of cloud, the tip of the mountain just peeking out above the fluffed shroud almost coquettishly.
Tara smiled. This was what they should have seen yesterday. The green blue sky of morning; the wind scudding bits of clouds towards the mountain; the sheer raw beauty of the rock. Her breath almost caught in her throat; Willow would love this.
She turned, looking once again at her lover, still fast asleep in bed. Well, she chided herself, maybe later. Giving the view one last, lingering look, she felt the nature reflected in her eyes and whispered a silent prayer of thanks to whatever Goddess was watching over the mountain. Then she turned on her heel and slipped quietly out of the bedroom.
***
As she entered the living room, Giles was already at the table, scribbling away on a notepad, surrounded by disturbed piles of papers that Tara was sure couldn’t possibly be in any kind of order. He looked up and flashed her a quick smile.
“Couldn’t sleep,” she said, almost apologetically, wandering over to him as he sat back in his chair, puffing out his cheeks and pulling at his glasses.
“I know the feeling,” he murmured, wiping at the lenses of his spectacles with a crumpled handkerchief pulled from his trousers. Replacing his glasses, he pushed them up to the bridge of his nose. “It’s usually the nicest time of the day here though, morning,” he added.
“I can’t believe that view,” Tara gestured emphatically back towards the bedroom. “It’s beautiful here isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Giles answered slowly, his tone not quite convincing her of his assent. Pursing his lips, he seemed lost in thought for a moment before breaking out of it to look up and meet her eyes. “Perhaps you and Willow might like to explore later…see something of the scenery up close?”
Tara grinned, resting back on her heels, laying one hand on the back of the chair nearest to Giles. “You mean you want us out of the way for a while?”
“No, of course not,” the British man spluttered, a little too anxiously. “I just meant that, whilst you’re here, you might like to…” he trailed off, a self-conscious grin fleeting across his lips. “I have a couple of calls to make later,” he nodded. “But that is in no means some nefarious plan to get you out of the house. They can wait.”
Letting out a short burst of laughter, Tara let her fingers grip the wooden chair more firmly and leant down on it. “Well my nefarious plan is to make sure Willow gets lots of fresh air and exercise here, so I guess it works out well for both of us,” she said.
“Excellent,” Giles agreed, his eyes crinkling around the edges as they flickered back towards the papers strewn around him on the table.
“So what are you doing up here then? Is it some kind of secret mission for the Council?” Tara leant forward, unable to read Giles’ tiny writing, instead letting her eyes wander over the diagrams and books that lay open to his right.
“Unfortunately nothing that exciting,” he sighed. “I rather think the Council just wanted me out of the way doing something safe for a while. I’m researching into the rites and rituals of the ancient Druids that occupied this area centuries ago. We…or rather, I came across an old text that had been buried for years. Apparently it seems that the ancient Druids are neither ancient nor extinct, as we first suspected. In fact…” he paused, looking up at Tara, then stopped, pressing his lips together in a hard line. She was looking down at him, eyebrows raised in interest, but he was sure that the last thing she wanted to hear about was some dull research he was doing.
The little thrill of excitement he had experienced at talking to someone, anyone, about his work faded away. He could have kicked himself. He’d forgotten that the children he’d come to see as his own just weren’t interested in the finer points of research, or books, or his dull non-monster fighting life that he had now grown into. Regret and some shame pulled at his consciousness, reminding him that the Giles of Sunnydale was no more. He wasn’t anybody’s Watcher now. He was just another pen pusher who worked for the Council.
“You’ve just woken up,” he stated calmly, dropping his gaze back to the table again. “This is really terribly dull and unimportant and I’m sure you’d much rather have some breakfast. There’s tea in the pot if you want it; it’s quite fresh.”
Tara drew back, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. One minute his face had been animated and full of enthusiasm, and then the next, it was like a switch had been flicked. She wasn’t sure whether to be offended or alarmed. And, being Tara, she opted for neither. Instead she took the passive route. Acceptance. After all, this was Giles, and Giles knew best.
“Uh…okay,” she said in a small voice, a furrow pulling her brows together. She opened her mouth to ask Giles what the matter was but thought better of it. Instead, she made her way past the table to the kitchen where the pot of tea now sat warmly underneath a woolen cozy. Turning in the doorway, she cast one look back at Giles, who was even now scribbling furiously on his notepad again, seemingly oblivious to her presence. A sigh worked its way up her body and she blinked slowly. Maybe Willow wasn’t the only one who needed to find her way back to herself.
***
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"Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one." she muttered... ~ Four Months After by Capt. Murdock
by Pixie » Wed Feb 06, 2002 9:08 am
by sparkles » Wed Feb 06, 2002 9:08 am
What a gorgeous set of fan-fic. I feel I should say thanks for writing it as I've enjoyed reading it so much. So, thanks.
I absolutely loved the line:
"And, being Tara, she opted for neither. Instead she took the passive route. Acceptance."
that's such a perfect insight into the lovely Ms McClay.
Keep it coming, it's a joy to read.
by mollyig » Wed Feb 06, 2002 9:47 am
quote:
Originally posted by tommo:
Quill...um...taking the girls out of Sunnydale isn't as great an idea as you suggest. Er, most of the other stories I've written have taken Willow and Tara to...surprise surprise...the UK.
and Ireland!! Laid to Rest is one of my favourite fics.
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Now that I know there's something to know, I can't *not* know, just because I'm afraid
somebody'll know I know, you know?
by Tiggrscorpio » Wed Feb 06, 2002 9:49 am
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She's my everything!
by CaptMurdock » Wed Feb 06, 2002 10:26 am
quote:
Originally posted by mollyig:
and Ireland!! Laid to Rest is one of my favourite fics.
Having never been to the Isles, I have to say that that is one of the reason I enjoy your fics, Ruth. It's like a little travelogue...
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"Good God, that's a lot of shake!"
by Charlie » Wed Feb 06, 2002 11:16 am
I love the fact that you set your fics in the UK - makes me feel at home, and anyway I think W/T would love it here! They would never be here long enough for all the novelty to wear off into 'oh, God, it's really like this the whole time?'!
Have fun with the 'naughty mischief'!
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"Je dois partir maintenant parce que ma grandmere est flambé..."
- Eddie 'covered in beeeees!' Izzard
by tommo » Wed Feb 06, 2002 12:19 pm
quote:
Originally posted by CaptMurdock:
Having never been to the Isles, I have to say that that is one of the reason I enjoy your fics, Ruth. It's like a little travelogue...
Yep, just call me Bill Bryson. Oh wait...no don't do that...
Pixie, what you're smelling is my really hamfisted attempt at weaving a plot into the general Willow/Tara-ness of this. I'm really pretty shit at that, heh.
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"Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one." she muttered... ~ Four Months After by Capt. Murdock
by The Rose » Wed Feb 06, 2002 8:48 pm
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Tara: My heart doesn't stutter.
Tara: Willow, I got so lost.
Willow: I found you. I will always find you.
Tara: Nobody messes with my girl!
by MoMack » Wed Feb 06, 2002 8:52 pm
(post script: the actual story parts are fantastic as well)
by tommo » Thu Feb 07, 2002 3:54 am
quote:
Originally posted by The Rose:
I am late in responding to this story, but I want to tell you I am enjoying your description of the landscape
Well, in my last story, someone wrote to me with a long list of criticisms. One of them was that I didn't describe the landscape fully enough. So you know, this time I tried to do that.
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"Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one." she muttered... ~ Four Months After by Capt. Murdock
by tommo » Thu Feb 07, 2002 11:09 am
Darn me and my obsession with landscapes. It's just...the leafy green trees...they're so seductive...with their whorish waving branches...
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"Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one." she muttered... ~ Four Months After by Capt. Murdock
by katydid » Thu Feb 07, 2002 11:16 am
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"She practically has 'genuine molded plastic' stamped on her ass.
by AutumnT » Thu Feb 07, 2002 11:23 am
------------------
Autumn
I'm just taking stuff and not paying for it. In what twisted dictionary is that stealing?
by tommo » Thu Feb 07, 2002 12:59 pm
quote:
Originally posted by katydid:
Ruth...are you trying to make me fall absolutely in love with you?
Yes. That's my nefarious plan. Read my fic; become devoted to me forever. I'm working on creating a kitty harem actually. Forget minions, I want whores! Mwahahahahaha...
Bloody hell. I'm so sorry. I don't know where that came from. You're very sweet. Keep reading. Smut soon.
Sigh.
Pssst...Autumn..."The leafy green of the rolling hills undulated under her gaze, whilst the touch of her lover behind her sent thrills up and down her spine."
Will that do?
Always happy to oblige.
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"Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one." she muttered... ~ Four Months After by Capt. Murdock
by katydid » Thu Feb 07, 2002 1:45 pm
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"She practically has 'genuine molded plastic' stamped on her ass.
by AutumnT » Thu Feb 07, 2002 2:01 pm
quote:
Originally posted by tommo:
Pssst...Autumn..."The leafy green of the rolling hills undulated under her gaze, whilst the touch of her lover behind her sent thrills up and down her spine."
rrrrrrrrooowwwrrrr
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Autumn
I'm just taking stuff and not paying for it. In what twisted dictionary is that stealing?
quote:by tommo » Thu Feb 07, 2002 3:04 pm
quote:
Originally posted by katydid:
Whore to Ruth? Hmmm...I can handle that. What are the requirements?
Um...well...you have to be a whore for starters...that should cover half the board then, in that case.
And katydid...believe me, you really don't want to.
Ooooookay then, I'll just get on with some more fic. Ahem.
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"Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one." she muttered... ~ Four Months After by Capt. Murdock
by Brynn » Thu Feb 07, 2002 3:25 pm
by AutumnT » Thu Feb 07, 2002 3:37 pm
Ruth? Tell us a story.
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Autumn
I'm just taking stuff and not paying for it. In what twisted dictionary is that stealing?
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