Hey all, long, long time coming, but I hope it will be worth the wait! Thanks for reading and enjoy!
Title: Insight
Author: KrisBo5
Email address: KrisBo5@aol.com
[b]Feedback: You can if you want.
Distribution: This is the narrative form of a spec script I had written for BVS, which is registered with the WGAw, so please don’t publish it or reproduce it in any way, shape, or form.
Spoilers: Season 6. Past “Hell’s Bells” but not up to “Entropy.” Around the middle of those, but I’m taking liberties.
Rating: This covers the story: PG-13 to NC–17. This includes sex, some mild violence, language. For this part, specifically, I would say R-Hard R.
Pairing: Willow and Tara, of course. Buffy and the others are here as well.
Disclaimer: I didn’t create these characters, Joss and crew did. I’m just borrowing them for the story I did write.
Summary: The Scoobies have gotten back together, just not “back together.” Tara’s got some kind of “power.” Buffy’s “gone missing.” And, then there are those pesky demons. . . .
Note: This is a little lighter, a little more comedic, a little less verbose. Really, a straight translation from script-to-narrative format. Without further ado, here it is. . .
Insight, Part Two: Act One(2D)“Hey, no, don’t worry about it,” Buffy said into the receiver, a huge smile covering her face. “It’s so
not a big deal. I mean, it
is a big deal, but you not coming— er, well, I mean that if you don’t come— ah, what I mean is, you
should stay there and don’t worry about anything. . . .”
Buffy glanced around the kitchen corner into the living room: Open, empty pizza boxes, crushed soda cans, and spilled chips cluttered the coffee table and floor.
Xander lay on his back with his legs side-by-side in the air. Dawn sat on the bottoms of his shoes, trying in vain to remain balanced, arms flailing out from her sides. “Okay. . . okay. . . I’m set. Fire when ready, Jeeves!” Xander brought an M & M in front of his face and prepared to cast it skyward towards the teen’s awaiting mouth.
Buffy leaned back against the wall, shaking her head. “We’re all good here.” She paused briefly. “You stay there, have a great time. And, Will, I’m so happy for you. For both of you.”
***
Willow felt tears filling her eyes as she smiled into the telephone. “Thanks, Buffy,” she whispered, “for everything.” She listened a second longer, and smiled again. “And I will. We will. Bye.” As quietly as she could, Willow replaced the receiver in its cradle and let her hand rest there; her eyes strayed to the still-lit candle, watching the flame dance and sway before her eyes.
Inhaling deeply, Tara stretched the sleep from her body, reaching a hand out to touch Willow’s back softly. “We will what?” she asked, her voice slightly hoarse.
Willow pulled her eyes away from the candle and glanced over her shoulder. Seeing Tara’s tousled hair and sleep-worn face, she smiled.
Beautiful. . . . Slowly, the redhead turned and rolled over until she was on her side facing the blonde, her head resting on the pillow inches from Tara’s. “Hi,” Willow whispered, staring into the deepest blue she had ever seen.
Tara felt her stomach freefall the instant Willow spoke, a feeling that accelerated times ten as the redhead continued to look into her eyes.
Oh, my. . . . “Hi yourself, Willow,” she sighed, touching the tip of her index finger to the redhead’s nose before dropping her hand to take one of Willow’s and tuck it close to her chest.
“Sorry,” Willow said, whispering.
“I’m not,” Tara replied, tugging a bit on the hand in hers. Willow smiled and followed the silent request, scooching her body closer. “Willow?” Tara hooked one ankle over the redhead’s, pulling at it softly until it was cushioned between both of her own. Tipping her head forward in a secretive manner, she echoed Willow’s breathy tone. “Why are you whispering?”
Willow’s eyebrows lifted and she felt a slight heat run up her throat.
Uh. . . . “I-I. . . .” She shook her head softly. “I don’t know,” she said finally, “it just— I thought maybe. . . maybe I should?”
Tara squeezed Willow’s hand and smiled. “Why?”
Willow tucked her free arm under her head, her eyes moving from Tara’s momentarily as she tried to bring her thoughts together. Looking at the blonde, she sighed. “You
were sleeping. . . .”
Tara quirked an eyebrow. “And?”
“And,” Willow continued, “. . . I guess it just seemed kinda. . . nice, and. . . and. . . .” Willow’s voice trailed off before finishing, so she just shrugged softly.
Yes, folks, don’t let the idiot facade fool you— you’re lookin’ at a future Mensa here.Tara felt her heart skip uncontrollably, struggling against itself to regain a proper beat.
Oh, Willow. She raised Willow’s hand from her chest, bringing the open palm to her lips to press a gentle, warm kiss in its center.
Holy. . . whoa. . . .Tara tucked the hand back in its rightful place over her heart and smiled into Willow’s eyes. “It is.” She mirrored the redhead’s pose by tucking her free arm under her head. “But being awake has its. . . niceness, too.”
Yeah it does!“Is Buffy okay?”
Willow paused, her mind changing tracks abruptly.
Uh, segue much? “What?”
Tara rubbed her ankle against Willow’s as she spoke. “Buffy Summers? You know, your best friend?” Tara’s eyes flicked over Willow’s head towards the phone, then back to the redhead’s again. “Is she okay?”
Willow stared into Tara’s eyes a moment more.
You are so beautiful. She nodded slowly.
“That’s good,” Tara said, a soft smile crossing her lips, as she continued her soft stroking of Willow’s ankle.
Really, really good.“Are you okay?”
Willow gazed into Tara’s eyes, momentarily stilled by the look of concern and adoration reflecting in their blue depths. A wave of emotion coursed through her then, emotion unlike anything she had felt earlier that day.
No nervousness.
Or inadequacy
Or undeservedness.
Tara made all of that— all of those feelings— just. . . disappear.
And now, now there was only Tara and her.
And with that knowledge, the knowledge that they were together again, there came a feeling that Willow had dreamed of but never again thought she would experience: completion. She was complete again, made whole by Tara, by Tara’s love and forgiveness. All of the rest of it, it all just faded away, leaving behind a calm, easy sureness. And that sureness filled her with a peace and happiness she hadn’t felt in months. Willow nodded slowly in answer.
Tara smiled again. “That’s good.”
That’s. . . really. . . good. . . . Willow flexed the hand within Tara’s grasp, opening it easily, even though it remained blanketed inside Tara’s; softly she pressed her palm against Tara’s chest, feeling the heart beneath pick up its pace.
Tara’s smile wavered as Willow’s hand shifted, and then settled flat against her chest.
Willow. . . . The heat from Willow’s touch burned her skin, even through the fabric of her shirt; she swallowed hard, knowing only that she wanted the redhead’s touch to scorch every single inch of her body.
Willow stared at their hands, struck once again at how seamless they looked together. Two forms, unique and individual, but meant to be with one another. Meant to be one. Her eyes traveled up then, moving over the delicate planes of Tara’s neck until she found herself staring into deep dark blue once more.
Oh, Goddess. Tara felt her heart skip when Willow’s eyes fell upon hers, and she took a deep, shuddering breath under their intensity. As much as Willow’s touch stirred her passion, there was something in the way the redhead was looking at her now that made her blood feel like it was on fire.
Willow moistened her lips. She felt Tara’s heartbeat beneath her hand, the quick change in its beat telling her how much Tara was feeling. For her. Willow pushed herself up from the pillow onto her elbow, letting her other hand remain perfectly still on Tara’s body. Slowly she inched closer, edging her leg further between Tara’s, bending it just enough so her knee came to rest between both of the blonde’s.
Tara’s lips parted as she took a deep breath.
Willow. . . . As the redhead’s leg slid between hers, feeling like smooth heat against her skin, Tara closed her eyes. She felt a slight pressure on her chest, a small push from Willow’s hand; she felt her body melting away as she slowly allowed Willow to roll her onto her back.
Willow moved ever closer, letting her body press against Tara’s, softly draping her. When Tara opened her eyes, she saw Willow gazing at her, staring deeply into her eyes. As her eyes held Tara’s, Willow slid her hand from beneath the blonde’s; slowly, softly, she moved it from over her heart to the base of Tara’s throat, at last touching the heated skin.
“Oh. . . .” Tara swallowed, keeping her eyes locked with Willow’s.
Willow’s hand was on the move again, gliding feather light over the smooth, delicate mold of Tara’s neck up to her face; once there, she gently cupped Tara’s cheek. The slightest of smiles graced her lips as the blonde leaned into her touch.
. . . Goddess. . . .“Willow,” Tara said, her voice no more than a whisper. She watched as Willow’s eyes left hers, traveling over the contours of her face, caressing her, loving her. “Willow,” she said again, drawing the redhead’s eyes back to hers. “We don’t have to.” Willow’s hand began to retrace its path as Tara spoke, moving down her throat, and even further. “If you’re still—” Willow’s hand came to a stop on Tara’s breast, silencing the blonde instantly.
Willow kept her hand completely still, allowing only her thumb to pass over the covered nipple as she watched Tara. Tara’s back arched into Willow’s touch. Willow softly shook her head, sighing audibly as Tara’s body pushed against hers.
Tara covered Willow’s hand with her own. “—nervous,” Tara finished, more as an afterthought, and completely unconvincing.
Again Willow shook her head.
The air around them was charged in the silence. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, nothing but the beating of their hearts sounding between them.
Willow moved slowly then, shifting the weight of her body further on her elbow, sliding effortlessly on top of Tara. She could hear— and feel— the blonde’s sharp intake of breath as her knee pressed further between Tara’s legs, pushing the blonde’s skirt up her thighs in the process. Willow felt her own breath coming faster, just with that image alone. She stopped her advance only when she was directly above the blonde, only when her face was inches from Tara’s, only when she could look deeply into the sparkling pools of blue.
Tara. . . . Willow stared, unwavering, into those depths for second-upon-second before allowing a whisper-soft smile touch her lips.
“Willow,” Tara whispered, her breath fanning over the redhead’s face so close to her own.
Willow’s eyes fell briefly to Tara’s full lips, watching mesmerized as the blonde moistened them with the very tip of her tongue.
No more. . . . No. More. Waiting. Willow lifted her eyes to Tara’s once more, seeing the desire and need behind the half-closed lids. She opened her mouth slightly as she lowered her face the final few inches, pushing the tip of her tongue past her lips; as she did, Willow closed her eyes and, at last, felt— and tasted— Tara.
Tara found herself holding her breath as Willow’s mouth descended ever-so-slowly to hers; when the redhead’s lips finally met hers, it was soft and warm and moist and. . . over way too soon. Tara opened her eyes as Willow’s mouth left hers. She softly released the breath she had been holding, her brow creasing slightly. “Willow?”
Willow lay motionless, completely and utterly still, her face mere inches from Tara’s. She gazed deeply into Tara’s eyes, feeling like everything inside of her was coming undone. Her blood felt like liquid fire, burning and fierce as it coursed through her and heated every nerve.
Oh, Goddess. . . . Willow’s eyes drifted away, roaming in slow adoration over the soft contours of Tara’s face.
Willow’s mind was at war with her body. She so much wanted to be soft and gentle and tender during this, their first time together after so long apart. Isn’t that how it should be? A relearning? A reintroduction? Her mind told her to go slow. To savor and experience every single touch and taste.
But her body. . . .
Willow’s body was alive. Vibrating with an intensity of desire the redhead could scarcely deny. One she didn’t
want to deny. After so long, after so many wishes and regrets and fantasies, she was finally here.
She was here.
With Tara.
Tara was in her arms, under her, holding her, wanting her. . . .
Surely giving in to the desire— that pure desire that raged so forcefully within her— was not wrong? How could it be?
This was them.
Tara and her.
The blonde’s other hand moved from its resting place on her pillow up into Willow’s hair, running through the soft copper tresses before resting at her lover’s nape. “Are you okay?”
Willow swung her eyes to Tara’s, staring unblinking into their depths. Unconsciously, she squeezed her hand around Tara’s breast.
. . . Tara.Tara’s mouth opened slightly at the simultaneous pressure on her breast and the deep intensity in Willow’s gaze. She recognized it for what it was: pure, unfiltered desire. How could she forget that look? How could she
ever forget? She lived to see that fire rage in her lover time and time again, and this time was no different. Tara vaguely thought that it should be, what with Willow’s nervousness before, and the mere fact that this would be like their first time.
But the truth of who they were together remained.
Tara wanted Willow more than anything. She wanted Willow to take her. To have her. The way she, herself, wanted Willow.
All fire.
All desire.
No holding back.
Just letting go.
There would be time enough for gentle and tender and sweet. For right now though. . . .
Tara swallowed.
Willow. . . . “It’s okay,” she said, keeping her eyes on Willow’s, watching her closely. She saw the slightest movement, Willow’s head tilting ever-just-so. Tara licked her lips.
. . . please. . . . “I-I mean. . .” she said, pausing as she swallowed. Then, the hand, which had been resting against the back of Willow’s neck, slid softly forward, tracing over skin until her fingertips brushed over the redhead’s lips. Tara made sure she held Willow’s gaze as she spoke. “I’m okay. . . .”
At Tara’s soft caress, Willow’s lips opened slightly, allowing for the tip of her tongue to edge out and make contact with the pad of the blonde’s fingertip.
“. . . if you don’t wa—”
But Tara got no further.
Willow heard Tara’s words. Well, no, not really. She heard the beginnings of the words, but as soon as Tara touched her, everything suddenly fell away.
Everything faded.
Only Tara remained.
She and Tara.
Them.
Together.
Willow opened her lips a fraction more, allowing Tara’s finger to slide easily into her mouth; as she softly closed her teeth over the skin, she watched with heightening passion as Tara’s own lips parted silently in her unfinished sentence, and her eyes were drawn to the redhead’s lips. As Willow closed her lips gently over the skin, Tara again mirrored the action, closing her mouth slowly.
Holy shi— Tara released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her heart’s increasing thunderous beat pounding in her chest. The sensation of Willow’s teeth biting almost painfully into her skin, followed suddenly by the warm, moist softness of her lips, was
—shkabob. The slightest hint of a smile edged its way to the corners of Willow’s lips. She drew back slowly, allowing Tara’s finger to slip from her mouth; without much ado, the blonde’s hand fell to lay limply over her own chest. With her eyes still holding Tara’s, Willow dipped her head and softly kissed the back of her hand.
Tara’s heart stuttered a beat, and then somersaulted uncontrollably as Willow’s lips touched her skin so gently. Without conscious thought, she became aware of tears filling her eyes, her heart and soul so full of love she felt she would burst.
Oh, Willow. . . .Tara’s unshed tears did not escape Willow’s notice, as she slowly lifted her lips away from the warm skin. Without words, she knew they were not tears of sadness or pain; they were tears of joy and happiness. This knowledge was as certain as it was unspoken, and it echoed deep within Willow.
She. Knew.
Seconds passed silently between them. Silent except for their heartbeats, which seemed to thunder around them; and their breathing, which was heavy and labored, and quickening with each passing moment.
Finally, it was Tara who spoke, unable to deny herself from being with Willow for one second longer. “Willow,” Tara whispered, lifting her hand from her chest and sliding it over the redhead’s cheek, over the pale, smooth skin till her fingers were buried in the auburn hair at the nape of Willow’s neck.
With the whispered plea of her name on Tara’s lips, Willow reached her precipice, the edge of her waiting, of her wishing, of her wanting.
Most of all, her wanting.
Willow shifted forward again, lowering her mouth to Tara’s. Her lips met the blonde’s with a softness belying her want and desire, the pressure only increasing as she felt Tara’s hand at the back of her neck squeeze gently. Willow opened her mouth to Tara, the action silently urging the blonde to do the same.
Oh. . . . Tara wasn’t exactly unprepared for the request but she found herself taken aback by how much she truly wanted to answer. Her mouth opened slightly, and it was answer enough.
Willow’s tongue pushed forward past her teeth, not forcing its way inside, just simply asking for Tara to allow their kiss to deepen.
Again, Tara answered. Her tongue sought out its partner, slick and warm and soft, sliding over Willow’s in a slow dance of reintroduction. Her hand, still resting on the nape of Willow’s neck, slid upwards, tangling in the deep red, cushioning the softness while gently pulling her lover’s lips more tightly to hers.
. . . my.Willow felt the pressure on the back of her head, and though she allowed herself to be held more tightly, she kept herself under taut, inflexible reigns. She didn’t want to give everything to Tara. . . at least, not yet. She tantalized and teased, letting her lips and tongue explore the deep recesses of her lover’s mouth, teasing with a deliberate thoroughness that promised much more to come.