Need a little help with that

[viximon]

ha ha ha, Buffy hasn't lost her touch about timing

Ok, great update, Tara and Willow go "little steps" but that's something. Keep the story up

[leipreachan11]

Wow, you people like angst.

And for future reference, WillowRulez, while I've read this for continuity slips about a thousand times, anything that doesn't make sense is intentional.

Oky doky, here goes...

Actually, before I forget, Misters Network, Enemy and Whedon, you want 352 business cards and 3 shiny new pens? Just try and find me! Ireland's a big country. Well, if you consider 'big' to be smaller than Washington with a population about the same size of L.A., then yes indeedy, Ireland is big.

Chapter 8

Xander and Buffy sat by Willow’s bed, each lost in their own thoughts. Willow lay still, a slight smile on her face.

“Did you know Willow talks in her sleep?” Buffy asked suddenly, jerking Xander out of his daydream.

“Yeah. She’s always done it. She’d prattle on whenever she slept over when we were kids. Most people who talk in their sleep say the occasional word, but she tells stories. It’s annoying ‘cause it’s never anything interesting. It’s usually about frogs. I don’t know why she thinks Anya’s bunny thing is weird, ‘cause I’ve heard more than one frog-massacre fantasy. Also, she’s a nerd even in her sleep, if it’s not frogs, it’s school. Once, while she was doing an exam on the anatomy of amphibians, a frog came alive and attacked her. Liquid nitrogen was involved in its killing.”

“Huh. Well, her topics of conversation have changed a lot since you last shared a room.” Buffy tried to hold back a smile.

“What’s that mean? No more frogs? No more 3.9 GPA nightmares? Spill.”

“Well... okay, but you can’t tell anyone. I feel really guilty telling you, but you beat it out of me.” Buffy hesitated.

“Cross my heart. Spill, spill, spill.”

“Okay. Well, I don’t know if this is a result of missing Tara or if she does it even when they’re together, but every single night she talks to Tara. I mean really talks, they have conversations.”

“I’m guessing they don’t just talk about their day.”

“Not quite. Back at the very beginning, when Willow was off the magic and Tara was gone, remember how Willow couldn’t sleep? She was like a zombie every day ‘cause she spent all night tossing and turning.”

“Yeah. Diet Coke was all that was keeping her sane. Ish.”

“Right. Well one night, about a week after she hopped on the magic wagon, I checked in on her. She was really still, completely covered in sweat. The sheets were soaking and she was totally spacing out, just staring at the ceiling. I called her, but I had to shake her to snap her back to the land of the living. It took her about a minute to recognise me when I was asking her was she okay. Then she was like ‘Oh yeah, I’m good, just about to fall asleep. It’s really hot tonight, isn’t it?’ And I just looked at her, I didn’t say anything because God knows she’s asked is she alright enough during the day, and that’s her stock answer - ‘Oh yeah, I’m good.’ And she just stared back. We were like that for like 5 minutes until eventually she whispers ‘I just miss her. I mean, no magic is tough enough, but I miss her so much.’ So what could I do but lie there with her, just hugging her, not even doing the ‘It’s fine, everything’s gonna be alright’ thing. Sure, I’ve been through the whole dumped dramatically thing, but I never had to do the simultaneous addiction-withdrawal bit. Finally, like an hour later, she’d stopped sweating and crying. I’d had all this dirt and ash on me from the whole demon-killing thing, and when I sat up, all the sweat and tears had actually turned it all to mud. She sat up too, and whispered so quietly if I’d stay. She said it’s not like she’d be snuggling me, it was just that she couldn’t sleep with no-one on the other side of the bed. So I looked down at her, and she was staring up at me with these puppy-dog eyes, her face all covered in mud. It would’ve been hilarious if I wasn’t about to cry just from looking at her. So what am I gonna say, no? So I climbed in with her, and she was asleep by the time I took off my boots.”

“Wow. Is that when she started to eat again?”

“Yeah. She finally had the energy to pick up a spoon. So I stayed with her for every night for like two weeks until she could sleep alone again. And you know how I said she told me it wasn’t snuggles she wanted?”

“I think I see where this is going, because I also know how much Willow moves when she’s asleep. She hit me a few times while killing frogs. In fact, she’s very annoying to share a bed with. Kudos to Tara and Oz for putting up with it. You’re looking at me like I’m making this stuff up – believe me, I’m not.”

“After those two weeks, believe me, I believe you. Did you ever see Willow and Tara asleep together?”

“Wow, postponing the tale much? Yes, I’ve seen them together. It’s like they always have to be touching. I’ve seen them asleep in a small chair, or even in a room, on the floor in the corner, and they’re always touching. Arms, legs, whatever.”

“Exactly. Once I saw both of them fast asleep on the couch with Willow literally completely on top of Tara. Not in a sex way, it was just like ‘Well, there’s not enough room for both of us, so let’s double-decker it.’ God knows how either of them could breathe. Anyway, apparently Willow is totally used to taking up as little room as possible in the bed when sharing it, and had got so used to it being shared with Tara that her sleepy brain didn't register the possibility that the other person might not be up for snuggling. So every morning without fail for a fortnight I’d wake up to some part of her draped over me. A leg or two over mine, her arms on my belly, her head on my shoulders or stomach using me as a human pillow, sometimes all of the above. Then she’d half wake up, hammer the alarm clock and mumble something. Then she’d move from whatever position she’d been in until her head was by my side and start kissing me, all the way up to my neck. Whenever I tried to crawl away she’d pull me back, and she never totally woke up until she’d kissed me, then rolled onto her back and stretched. After a couple of days, I learnt that as soon as she rolled away I had to get out of that bed, fast. I found that out the awkward way - it seems that it takes more than an alarm clock to wake Willow up; I’m pretty sure there’s something more needed every morning to get her out of bed.”

“Every morning? Geez, I knew those girls had stamina, but...”

“I know. She’d only properly wake up when she rolled over for some touch and found an empty bed. That part’d break your heart to look at – she’d feel up and down the bed and eventually open her eyes to see where Tara was. She’d look all confused, then she’d remember, then she’d just look utterly miserable and head for the bathroom.”

“She’s been looking better for the last couple of weeks. Or at least putting on a better front than before. So did her dreams finally stop when you were there?”

“Hell no. If anything, they’re getting steamier. It’s normal though, you know how the longer you’re away from someone, the hotter your dreams get, right?” Buffy realised what she’d said and squirmed a little. “Eh, that’s what I’ve heard anyway.” And God, do I know about horny dreams. Buffy thought of all the times she’d awoken from steamy ones of herself and Angel. Once she was groaning and writhing in bed so much that her mum had woken her, thinking Buffy was having a terrible nightmare of being killed. Buffy agreed with Joyce when she asked if she had been pointing out a weapon to someone as she said “Yes, there!” a lot.

“Right. That’s what they say.” And God, do I know about horny dreams. Having been a virgin for several more years than he would have liked, Xander had had more than his fair share of hot dreams. Once he was groaning so much that his mum had woken him, telling him if he wanted to have loud nightmares about being tied up and whipped, he could sleep in the basement.

“So, hot Tara dreams, huh?”

“Yep. No more froggy sleep-talking. Sometimes she’d just whisper her name, sometimes she’d say it and laugh, but this one time, she got seriously loud. She was practically on top of me. At that stage I’d started sleeping in four layers of pjs in case she tried to strip me. Again. That wasn’t stopping her that night, though. There I was, more or less shouting at her, then shaking her, both of which seemed to form a nice part of her dream. It seems Tara’s quite the vixen in bed, because Willow was answering some pretty surprising questions. So I finally pushed her over to her side of the bed and then she... God I can’t believe I’m telling you this - she said ‘Do that nipple thing. No, number 4.’ Then squirmed for a while, then came. Loudly.” Buffy burst out laughing, with Xander joining in.

“They have 4 ‘nipple things’?”

“Apparently. When it was over she just went straight back to sleep, not a sound out of her until morning. She woke up whistling. That was most definitely my last night in there. Thank Jesus Dawn was at yours that night. Anyway, since then it looks like she’s slept fine. No loud orgasms either, though she’s been whimpering a few times when I passed her door.”

“She does sleep with a smile these days. Even now.”

It was true; Willow had a slight smile on her face most of the time she’d been asleep in hospital.

“Anyway, tell her any of that and I’ll give you a taste of how I’ve been politely asking the demons about the shop.”

“Duly noted and stored in the ‘Terrifying’ part of the brain. You wanna stay ‘til they kick us out?”

“Yeah, pre-dinner visiting hours are done in like 10 minutes. Pity Will never woke up.”

[Kaia]

Wow! I am away from the board for a day and I miss 3 updates? Or was it 2? I'm sorry, I'm a little tired.
Anyway, I'm really thankful for the updates...I guess it would be rude of me to ask for more? Ack, screw it (sorry)...more please?
Gaelic...I'm trying to learn. It's really hard, though I've been told I have the pronounciation part nailed . *shrugs*...struggling with grammar now.
Hope to 'read' from you soon.

Karinna

[leipreachan11]

Well Kaia, Mr Work Laptop, where about 3 job-related files and nothing else are stored, is currently being used for non-work purposes, but unfortunately Mr Word Laptop, which features about 300 files of this here story, lies at home complete with more updates.

I have a feeling this'll run a bit longer than originally intended so I'd say there'll be a few pages yet to come. And I'm quite impatient so I'll probably start sticking up the chapters I've done without giving you time to absorb and comment on their brilliance.

Also, I always think that it's funny that everyone calls our language Gaelic, except for the Irish themselves, who call it... Irish. And fair dues to you if you do learn it, there's a lot of annoying rules involved. And your signature is a nice phrase to start off with.
But not to be a Negative Nigel (there's a term I've never used before), the pronunciation part's a bit complicated because there's 3 quite distinct dialects. Have fun learning though!
And you should come over if you really want to learn and stay in one of the Gaeltachs (small areas down in the country and the islands where Irish is still the first language); they're pretty.

Well, on a vaguely less off-topic topic, there's nothing on TV tonight so I'll probably stick up the next chapter later.

[Kaia]

Ok, so I'll start calling it Irish from now on.

Three dialects?? Heck...and here I thought it was pretty hard as it already is, damn! Do you know how hard it is, by the way, to find someone that can teach it here in Chile?? I'm sure most of the people here don't even know it exists as a language.
I've always wanted to go to Ireland. In fact I'm seriously planning on doing it soon. Maybe next year...who knows. I've already planned my upcoming vacation for this year. What's the best time of year to visit Ireland?
Regarding your story...not that I want to put more pressure on you, but I have an hour to kill before work, so who knows maybe, by chance, you'd like to post soon so I can read it before I leave? Hmm...just wondering.

Karinna

[leipreachan11]

Wow, you're more impatient than my very impatient brother. So here's all I have with me, thanks to the wonders of emailing stuff to myself. The follow-up to it will probably come tonight. And at this rate, the entire 60-odd (in Word) pages will be done by Sunday. And mine won't be one of those stories with twenty thousand visitors.

Is there any particular reason you're trying to learn Irish? I would have thought that to be an unusual pastime for someone in Chile. And if you want to come to Ireland, the seasons are:

Winter: Cold (though not hyper-freezing, it rarely snows), windy and wet. Expect people to hope that their cough hasn't gone to their chest.

Spring: Warmer (that doesn't mean warm), windy and wet. The leaves and flowers come out quite early. Lovely snowdrops and daffodils in the countryside. Also you'll hear a lot of people saying that "there's a great stretch in the evenings".

Summer: Often wet but occasionally 'hot'. 2 weeks of 20 degrees weather is considered to be a heatwave and a lot of people are burnt after one day's worth of sunbathing in said heatwave.

Autumn (Fall): Getting colder but quite pretty, plenty of nice-coloured leaves on the ground. Wet. Expect comments on how wet leaves on the ground are a death-trap for the elderly.

So basically, rain is quite important to the Irish climate. If you were going to learn Irish, a load of students descend upon the Gaeltachts for Irish college during the summer. Spring is nice, lambs in the countryside, flowers appearing... Bring an umbrella no matter what.


Anyway... Chapter 9

Unfortunately for her, Willow had indeed woken up.

Shit! They know about my dreams? I have like the horniest Tara dreams ever, whether she’s in bed with me or not!

Willow had been awake for a couple of minutes now. She had been about to open her eyes when she heard Buffy say ‘with Tara literally on top of Willow’, followed by the word sex. Somewhat optimistically thinking they might be building up to discussing how Tara planned on taking her back, Willow kept her eyes shut. Unfortunately, the conversation rapidly went downhill from there, and she didn’t know when to announce that she was awake. She wasn’t sure if she should pretend she’d just woken up now, in case they thought she’d been listening, which of course she had.

Willow knew well that she always woke up wrapped around Tara, almost always with her hand up her shirt, but she’d had no idea that she’d done it with Buffy, let alone that she’d tried to start their usual morning shenanigans.

How could she not tell me I was coming onto her in bed?! The fact that your friend is waking up while feeling you up is usually something you’d inform her of!

As for that dream in particular, Willow remembered it clearly, and Buffy wasn’t doing it justice at all. I came out loud? Willow felt like curling up with embarrassment and her face felt on fire. Thank God her friends weren’t looking at her. I really came out loud? She wondered how Xander might react if he knew they actually had 6 ‘nipple things’.

Buffy was certainly right about one thing, though – her dreams were getting hotter the longer Tara was away.
And God, do I know about horny dreams. Willow never used to remember her dreams. Xander had told her in the past that she talked in her sleep, usually about frogs or school, but she knew he was making it up. She had certainly never had any hot dreams until college. Or, more accurately, until Tara.

A long time ago, long before Willow had fully admitted to herself her feelings for Tara, she’d started with the hot dreams. Nothing near what they were now sometimes, but full of gentle kisses and some light touch. Back then, though, this counted as a horny dream.

One night, Buffy and Willow had got drunk together, Buffy more so than Willow.

“Buffy, do you ever have dreams? Not normal dreams I mean, ‘cause everyone has those. Well, not everyone, because some people don’t, but most people do but normally they’re normal dreams, like about school and normal stuff like that. I mean... well, dreams about you and someone else. I don’t mean you and someone else, I mean I’m not dreaming about you ‘cause, eww. Not that you’re eww-worthy or anything, just that’d be weird. I mean dreams about me. And someone else. Doing stuff. Besides homework.”

It’s hard enough concentrating on what someone else is saying when you’re drunk, thought Buffy, without them babbling on for an hour about something that could fit in a sentence: Willow’s dreaming about Oz.

“Will, first of all, in answer to your question, yes. In my time I’ve had extremely hot dreams. Practically every morning of last year I woke up from an Angel dream. I mean, I’d had them before everything happened, but they were kind of gentle, us making out in the sunshine kind of stuff. Last year though, I suppose because it was really months and months of non-stop sexual frustration, they got a lot less tepid. We had a few simultaneous dreams too, they were... enjoyable.” A dreamy look came over Buffy’s face.

Wow. In vino veritas indeed, thought Willow.

“So it’s totally normal for you to be having hot Oz dreams.”

Oz? Right, Oz. Why would I be dreaming of anyone else – I love Oz. Right? Right.

“Cool, thanks. Me ’n Oz. Normal.” She psyched herself up for the next part.

“And when you were having these dreams, and you were all frustrated ‘cause you couldn’t do anything about them ‘cause you were like scared of the consequences and what people would think of you” - okay, that’s kinda my stuff - “what did you do? I mean did you use the memory to help with other stuff or just take it out on the fridge or what?”

“Hell no. I totally took it out on the demon population of Sunnydale. You wouldn’t believe how much my kill count went up last year. And I wasn’t just killing them either, I’d beat the crap out of every demon I found. Willy the snitch told me that they were all super-terrified ‘cause I wasn’t just killing the demons I found, I was going out for hours every night, chasing every movement I sensed in the graveyard, then I’d seriously kick their ass, eventually kill them, and chase the next movement. Willy did mumble something about permanent PMT, but then I knocked him out.”

Okay, I don’t think going out and getting killed is the best solution to this situation.

“If you want, you can come and help me at night ‘til the lonesome dreams die down. Or we could spar? I’d be gentle!”

“Actually, a bit of punching mightn’t be such a bad idea. Or aiming a punch, at you, anyway, ‘cause I’m pretty sure I’d miss.”

“Then it’s a date.”

It’s not you I want to be dating, thought Willow, before promptly burying away any Tara date-thoughts. It’s Oz. I love Oz.


Thinking of those times now, Willow couldn’t believe just how long she’d managed to lie to herself about her relationship with Tara. She’d spent endless hours trying to convince herself. We’re just friends. New friends, good friends. Really good friends. She’s not a Buffy-type good friend, she’s a different type of really great friend. Who I want to kiss. Platonically. A lot of kisses, and not just on the lips, all over, but in a platonic kind of way. And how I feel all tingly and hot all over when I touch her, that’s just the magic...

[Candleshoe]

You seem to be providing a whole new definition for the word "impatient" with your speedy updating!

You will be pleased to know that you are still making me laugh out loud - with the story and with your Year in The Irish Life - it is so true! I have Irish colleagues, and even here in England all they talk about is the rain...

Edited because I can't spell - D'oh!

[AlysonGoddess]

Wow thats the longest conversation i have ever heard about dreams but yay three new updates thats awesome .. im so looking forward to more willow tara time so update soon plz!
Erin

[leipreachan11]

Well, I'm in a good mood now because my boss just, quite bizarrely, complemented me on me week's work. I'm questioning his sanity. Maybe periodic chin-tapping does actually pass for work these days. Spread the word.

Anyway, to stretch this out, I'm going to break out the Simpsons DVDs this evening to distract myself and I'll only throw up the next chapter when I get 2078 viewings of this tale so far. So, 156 more of you need to check it out. Though that plan will probably backfire and about 3 people will read this in the next week or something. Hmm...

By the way, AlysonGoddess, that's the edited dream conversation. The original one was about Willow having had a recurring dream in which she's falling, with the colour red appearing, but there was a lot of psycho-babble involved and I remembered that some people prefer sex-references to that sorta stuff. Once again, the giver in me comes through.

[spells42]

Hi Leipreachan
I just found your fic and enjoyed it thoroughly. Willow certainly was badly injured by whatever-it-was, and I'm glad she's getting better, and that Tara has come back into her life. When is Tara going to realise that life is short (esp.on the Hellmouth) and she needs to grab it (in the person of Willow) with both hands?!

LOL at the dream conversation... How stoic of Buffy to keep sleeping with Willow under those circumstances.. a true friend. Willow just had to wake up and hear that conversation, the story wouldn't have been right without that.

Your comments on your work and the Irish climate are also keeping me amused. Perhaps your boss believes that praise might spur you on to better things, like actually doing some work?

Looking forward to more.
Anne

[leipreachan11]

This isn’t a particularly complicated tale: there aren’t any complex riddles to be solved for live-savage or supernatural castles to be navigated to rescue a fair maiden. It’s set in series 6, post A/X and W/T break-ups. Willow was the worst hit in a mysterious attack on the Magic Box and is therefore lying sore and sorry in a hospital bed. Will the culprit be brought to justice? Are there evil plans afoot in Sunnydale? Is there angst ahead? I’d say don’t hold your breath and you’ll find out eventually but at the moment I’m more or less finished the story so I’m just updating when the mood takes me. Being impatient, bored and pissed-off at my cousin for scraping my Simpsons DVDs, the mood has taken me.


This should have come immediately after the last chapter so I’ll stick in the final paragraph of C 9 as a ‘Previously on…’ A bit more dreamy conversation here; I’m beginning to realise that I’ve missed my calling; I should get me some fancy business cards introducing myself as ‘Leipreachan11: Dream Doctor.’ Then maybe something like ‘You dream it, I interpret it and judge you (in)sane.’


And spells42, your suggestion of praise being used to encourage work is intriguing and perhaps even possible.


Chapter 10

Previously on Need a little help with that:

…Thinking of those times now, Willow couldn’t believe just how long she’d managed to lie to herself about her relationship with Tara. She’d spent endless hours trying to convince herself. We’re just friends. New friends, good friends. Really good friends. She’s not a Buffy-type good friend, she’s a different type of really great friend. Who I want to kiss. Platonically. A lot of kisses, and not just on the lips, all over, but in a platonic kind of way. And how I feel all tingly and hot all over when I touch her, that’s just the magic...


“Moron.”

“Me?” Willow opened her eyes to see a confused Tara standing by her bed. She must have been back in the past for ages; her dinner sat before her on the table.

“Oh, no, swee- Tara, just thinking. You smell.”

“Really? Sorry. Of what? ‘Cause I showered this morning, used soap and all. Are you sure it’s not Buffy’s unique scent of burgers and ash lingering?”

“No, not bad smell, nice smell. Like coffee and vanilla. Makes me hungry.”

“Ah. That could probably be explained by vanilla-scented shower gel and coffee-scented coffee. You’ve been banned from caffeine, right?”

“Don’t remind me. God, if I could walk further than the door, I’d be at that coffee machine so fast even Emy wouldn’t have time to open her mouth.”

“If you could move that fast, you’d have won Olympic gold many, many times.”

“That’s the first thing I’m doing when I get out of here, draining the Espresso Pump.” Willow paused. “Tara, do I talk in my sleep?”

“Well, a little. Sometimes.”

“Like how often? And what do I say – is it the odd word or what?”

“Not quite. A lot of the time you have conversations with someone, or sometimes you sound like you’re telling a story.”

“Oh my God! That’s so embarrassing! Xander told me it before, and that I hit him sometimes when I was chattering away and moving around, but I never believed him. How could you not tell me that?”

“Well, it’s cute. Most of the time you just talk about frogs and school and coffee, sometimes all together.”

This worried Willow. Please God don’t let it be true. Tell me I don’t come out loud.

“Most of the time? What about the rest of the time?”

Tara looked like she had a gun to her face. She shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, sometimes it’s… other stuff.” Knowing she couldn’t hide anything from Willow, she decided to at least try to tell her as little as possible. She would be so mortified if she knew what she says!

“Like?” Willow looked terrified of the answer.

“Well, a lot of the time you tell – told – me how much you loved me.”

“Oh God. I tried to show you how much I love you, didn’t I?” Willow wondered if Tara noticed the slight emphasis she put on ‘love’.

She had. ‘Love?’ She loves me, present tense? Of course she does, dumbass. As you do her. Tara realised Willow was waiting for an answer.

“Emm… sometimes. Nothing major though, but I think you dreamt of us doing a lot more.” She saw Willow shrinking back into her pillow. What the hell… “It was kinda funny, though, hearing one side of a dirty conversation. When I was involved in them personally I was never really in a state to be listening to exactly what you say. You’re quite the poet, in a naughty kind of way. Also, it was fun sometimes, it was like join the dots trying to figure out what you dreamt I was saying to you. Like listening to someone on the bus having a kinky conversation on their mobile and trying to work out what the other person was saying. How was I gonna tell you that? Besides, it wasn’t every night, the hotter dreams were usually if we hadn’t fooled around at all that day, and especially when it had been more than one day. I think the weirdest one – and this honestly isn’t a joke – was where we were busy at it on the floor while having a great chat, then suddenly we were in our graduation outfits, drinking lemon juice in a hot air balloon driven by a penguin over a Texas oil field which crashed onto a pile of unfinished essays. You totally panicked that you were gonna fail college for incomplete assignments and woke up all sweaty. But you’d forgotten about the frightening part of the dream so you were all horny, and when you saw me looking at you... We didn’t get to class that day until 11 because you were so lively. You actually looked like you were on coke or something.”

“Oh God, stop. I am soooo sorry.”

“Don’t be! If anything, it’s flattering. And we’ve all had horny dreams, Will, it’s just that not everyone’s as… vocal about it.”

“Okay! Super! Let’s talk about something else now! Anything! Emm… how’s the weather?”

“Pretty hot for May. Totally humid. Not much in college to report. They’ve cancelled Drama, everyone’s Christmas grades are the year’s, which suits me just fine. They’re still looking for a teacher, I’d say any potentials are a bit nervous of UC Sunnydale’s dodgy wiring and probably the unusually low life-expectancy, so I’d say any decent ones will give it a miss. Our demon hunt is pretty much at a standstill, Buffy hurt her fist last night punching something who was being less than helpful. Anya finally saw the shop again – she snuck off when Xander was at work. Thank God Giles was there, because she actually fainted at the sight. And this is after more than two weeks of cleaning! She’s still a bit worried about demon bunnies; Xander’s paying for that little fun story. Any interesting goings-on in Days of Our Lives: Sunnydale?”

“A bit of hot gossip. Mary was visiting her brother in L.A. and they went to a gay bar – I told you her brother just came out. Well, who did she see enjoying crotch-less trousers but Dr. Foxy? And apparently ‘his lips weren’t alone’.”

“Uh-oh. I’m guessing it wasn’t his wife sharing them?”

“Nope. Nurse Emy said that Mary totally has something to bribe him with now. You know how she’s going for a promotion? Well, he might be able to pull a few strings because his brother’s on the board. Buffy saw the bro and tells me that we’d just call him Dr. Fox ‘cause he’s not nearly as hot as Foxy. We’ll have to break it to her that even if Foxy did leave the wife, he’d still be totally outta her league. And also apparently there’s this dickhead Dr. O’Connor guy here who’s totally homophobic but he’s Foxy’s superior and if he found out he was dealing with a gay he could just kick him to a crap department or whatever he wanted and Foxy’s looking for a promotion too. So that’s what Emy was saying, Mary has something really good on him now so she shouldn’t tell anyone at all that she saw him. Well, except for Jenny, who she told, but it’s not as if Jenny’s gonna tell anyone except Emy, and us, indirectly. By the way, I heard Emy telling Mary that when her brother’s in town he should come here and meet us. I mean you and me. He doesn’t know any gay people so Emy was saying he should start with the best.”

“So we should fly the flag for our people?”

“Something like that. You should wear that pretty rainbow top. I’ll warn you when he’s coming down – I don’t think it’s an idle threat.”

“It never is with Nurse Emy. Speaking of…” The girls prepared themselves for a whirlwind of conversation as Emy came in.

“Tara! It’s lovely to see you again. As you can see your girl- your friend – is flying along now. How’s college? It’s very hot out, isn’t it? I was just saying to Jenny that it hasn’t been this hot in May for years and years. Terribly humid for the month, too.”

“Yeah, it’s very sticky. I-” Tara was cut off by more warp-speed chatter.

“I was telling you about my son, Jamie, wasn’t I? Well he just got this snake called Jamie Junior – believe me, I didn’t name him – and for some reason Jamie decided to bring it outside so it could ‘play’ in the sun for a while, like dogs do. Anyway, surprise, surprise, the snake escaped into the bushes and Jamie couldn’t find it until he heard this screaming from next door. So he ran in there to find Maureen – remember, she’s the 20-year-old who acts like an old biddy – had murdered the snake with a hockey stick! So as of this morning we have a plaque on the back wall saying ‘Jamie Junior – May 2002 – May 2002. We loved you dearly.’ It’s his father letting him do these mad things. And now the little eejit wants to get a replacement and call it Jamie Junior Junior like off the TV, whatever that means. Well, sweetheart, everything looks fine here, Dr. Dempsey wanted to see you later but you’re fine for now. See you tomorrow, Tara.” She power-walked out of the door.

“Wow. My ears are ringing. It’s no wonder you hear so much gossip in the short time they’re in here, she talks so fast, she should rap for a living.”

“It’s exhausting, isn’t it? It’s so nice sometimes to have someone here to just sit with.” Hint hint – please stay for good.

[AlysonGoddess]

wow that was a really fast update!! keep em commin plz sry i dont have much to say cant really think right now listening to shakiras new song (hips dont lie) its so good! but anyway haha this isnt about shakira uhm next update ill say more promise and i hope willow and tara get on with the soon cuz they just need to
erin

[WillowRulez]

Willow's dreams! Rofl! Kinda weird that Buffy didnt tell her or try to tell her between the lines... guess she enjoyed it after all
Keep em coming!

[Kaia]

Hi, leipreachan11!

I actually got to read chapter seven before leaving for work, I just didn'tn have time to say thanks. And my mom takes pride in the good education she gave me so I wouldn't dare to make her look bad by forgetting to thank you. Hehe...
About Irish, I used to listen to Enya a lot and it ate me alive not to be able to understand what she was singing in some of her best songs, so I vowed to learn Irish as soon as I could. Of course I didn't have time after high school with Med school and all, and the fact that I didn't have any money to pay the teacher. And then after graduating from med school i didn't have the time since I went straight to get my masters degree and residency program. So, to make a long story short, last year i got my masters degree and finally had the time to do it, and here I am.
It looks like I'm gonna have to go to Ireland during your summer (my winter) if I don't want to end up with a wet/frozen butt. Here the weather is really nice so I'm not really used to much rain or cold. Thanks for the tips though, I promise not to forget an umbrella.

K.

[leipreachan11]

Ah, Enya, our most famous and successful recluse. Nearly 70 million albums sold but no full concert. And a Christmas radio favourite, up there with The Pogues.


Kaia– if I had anything remotely close to your work ethic, I'd probably be my boss's boss by now. But I don't so I amn't. Ah well, it'd just mean extra/ actual work.
Anyway, if you still want to come next year and are still into learning Irish, you should come around St Patrick’s Day (17th March). The week before it is Seachtain na Gaelige (Irish – as in the language - Week). Paddy’s Day is always great fun too, it’s a national holiday so people are free to dye their hair green and drink copious amounts of Guinness and call their new-born children Patrick or Patricia. Snake sales go up around then too in honour of St Patrick – the miracle he performed to become a saint was to drive the snakes from Ireland. Honestly. Also, the idea is that if you’re not at the parade, you’re in the pub, but if you go to the pub before the parade as well (not instead) as afterwards , then you won’t mind if it rains. Remember the golden rule: Bring a brolly.

Well, here we are again...

Summary: Again, if you like complicated stories which engage the brain in solving puzzles and that sorta thing, you’re in the wrong place, baby. In this world, Willow’s in hospital, being visited by the Scoobies. That’s pretty much it.

Disclaimer: These days, I reckon it’s about a 50/ 50 split as to who owns my mind – me or the TV. So taking into account that I own very little to do with Buffy, you can decide what percentage of this story is actually mine.

Note: Thoughts are in italics, the first couple of words of the flashback are in bold.

Chapter 11

When visiting hours had ended and Willow was alone, Emy came in, intending to drop a few hints that Mary’s brother might like to have a chat when he visited town. Subtlety had never been her strong point, though, so what was meant to be a gentle hint came out as a straightforward question as to whether her favourite patient and her girl- her friend- could help him out. Refusing people never having been Willow’s strong point, she agreed. She was actually curious as to how Morgan realised he was gay – he didn’t come out until he was 26. She remembered perfectly the moment that she had snapped herself out of Deep Denial Land for the first time.

“Come on, come on. I know you’re in here somewhere and you know as well as I do that I’m gonna eventually find you so you may as well make it easier for both of us and come out with your hands up. Or arms, since you don’t really have hands. Well, you don’t really have arms either so much as sleeves, what with you being a top and all…”

Willow sat down inside her wardrobe as she realised that she was talking to a missing shirt. Why am I asking my clothes where they are? Why the hell am I so nervous? We’re going to the cinema for God’s sake, it’s not like it’s a candlelit dinner for two at Mario’s. A cinema trip with my friend, just like if I was going with Buffy. Plus, it’s not even tonight we’re going out – I’m panicking over something that’s two days away.

She resumed her hunt, moving onto her bed, as it occurred to her where the shirt might be. She reached as far as she could underneath the bed and eventually pulled out a box. My Oz box. She realised something. The box used to always be close enough to the edge of her bed for her to lean under and touch at night. Now it had gathered dust, buried under various crap, mostly Buffy’s stuff. Stakes, socks, pyjamas – a packet of toothbrushes? For a long time after Oz had left, she opened this box at least twice a day. She would take out his photo and stare at it, sometimes for hours. She’d hold the Pez witch he’d given her, and sniff the T-shirt he’d forgotten in her room just days before he left. Now, the only reason she was looking for the box wasn’t to mope over one Daniel Osbourne, it was to find a top. A top that she’d worn on their last date, but which no longer deserved to be relegated to the miniature misery-land under the bed. It was a nice top; it deserved to be worn on a nice da- a nice cinema-trip. Not a date, because Tara was quite clearly a girl, as was Willow and girls – at least, these girls – didn’t date.

Was I ever this nervous with Oz? This excited to just be going to a film? Or when Buffy and I became friends right at the start, did I get butterflies – no, eagles – in my stomach when she asked me if I wanted to get a coffee?

No, no and no. Something snapped inside Willow, and she collapsed onto the bed. This wasn’t a budding friendship, and it wasn’t a potential nice, safe relationship. This was Willow falling hard. For a girl. What with Willow being a girl herself, she didn’t think her previous dating experience – i.e. that one relationship – would help her out. It was a little harder to judge whether Tara wanted Willow in a non let’s-go-to-the-cinema-and-just-be-friends way, because she too was a girl. Okay, we’ve established that everyone involved in this little conundrum is indeed a girl.

So now for the hard part. Now that Willow recognised that she didn’t just want to be Tara’s friend, what the hell was she going to do about it? How do you find out if someone’s gay if they don’t do stuff like act really camp or butch or join the Lesbian Alliance or wave a rainbow flag? Willow tried to think back to every conversation she’d had with Tara. No flags, no L.A. membership cards, no Harleys…

Those were pretty much all the signals Willow could think of, besides “Here’s your coffee with milk, are you gay and do you want sugar?”

Well that’s not gonna work – I know well she doesn’t like sugar. How’s about I make with the subtle test questions and double entendres…we could go to something with Jude Law and I could ask her if she thought he was hot…or we could go to a comedy and I could call it a ‘gay romp’… The phone rang, disturbing Willow’s potential plan of action.

She answered with a sigh. “Hello?”

“Willow? Hey. Hi, it’s, um, it’s Tara. Hi.” Willow beamed at the hesitant voice. “Sorry to disturb you so late.”

“Tara, it’s 7.30. I know I said earlier that I felt I was getting older, but I meant more in a getting more mature way, if I’m not like tooting my own horn by saying that, I didn’t mean to brag. I mean I’m not all ‘la la la, I’m all mature and you’re not, everyone else is a baby compared to me with the maturedness.’ I don’t think ‘maturedness’ is a word, but, you know. Anyway, I meant that I feel I’m getting older, but more mature, not in a ‘go to bed at 7pm and don’t forget to take your pills’ way. Not that it’s bad to remember your pills and go to bed early, I mean if you do, that’s cool, it’s good to be rested, that’s probably why unlike me in the mornings you’re so calm and composed and all, even pre-coffee, ‘cause of the early nights, but me not so much. More of a night person, myself, I suppose that’s a result of all the late nights helping Buffy do stuff. You know, Scooby stuff, with the research and the grave-digging, normal stuff like that. Well, normal for us, very not-normal for normal people, though that was totally out of the normal for me and Xander ‘til we were like 16, when Buffy came. I mean I knew Sunnydale wasn’t like other towns, the obituaries were always the biggest section in the paper, but I never guessed why. Who could? I couldn’t believe it when I found out, it was like ‘Shut up, vampires?’ So I guess since then I’ve been more of a night person, but don’t tell my parents! Thank God too for my bedroom’s balcony door, I went in and out through that so many times in the middle of the night. Sometimes I even had other people come in. Angel was in there once, though later it wasn’t a very good idea to have invited him. You know how you have to say ‘Come in’ to vamps before they can enter, otherwise there’s this kind of invisible barrier. That’s why I don’t have fish anymore, even though I like them and have a tank, because I’m worried about what future psycho might string them together and put them in an envelope for me. Even still, the balcony thing was helpful when I wasn’t allowed do a round robin. That’s when everybody calls everybody else’s mom and tells them they’re staying at everyone’s house so we can do the Scooby thang and go to keggars, though we never actually did that. But the possibility was there if I needed it. Poor Buffy had to climb through her bedroom window ‘til her mum found out about the Slayer thing, she found it even weirder and harder to accept than me and Xander. You’d expect that though, ‘cause…” Shut the fuck up! Willow eventually managed to literally bite her tongue to stop talking. It’d been a long time since she’d babbled for so long all at once. In fact, had she ever gone on that long? Maybe I’m nervous from talking to the girl I’ve just decided I might be falling in love with.

There was a long pause. “Tara? You there?”

“Yeah, just I wasn’t sure if you were done.”

Willow laughed nervously. “Yup, all done. In fact I think that was my week’s quota of words used up right there. Is there something the matter? Do you need me to come over?” Please say yes…

“No, it’s just I was ringing to say I kinda can’t make it on Thursday.”

“Oh.” If the lack of oxygen to her brain caused by her endless chatter hadn’t forced her to sit down, Willow’s legs would have given way with disappointment.

“It’s just, I just have this big project due on Friday and I totally forgot about it until today so that’s pretty much what I’ll be doing non-stop over the next two days.”

A project due. Go with the classic excuse. Don’t bother to think that I think that I might be in love with you. What next – ‘I’m moving colleges, don’t contact me’?

“But how ‘bout Friday? It’s a more traditional da- um, day for a cinema trip.”

“I’m there.” Was she about to say date?

“And Willow? I don’t usually go to bed at 7pm. When I’m sleeping on my own, anyway.” Willow heard Tara gasp and could imagine the immediate blush as she realised what she’d said. “So, I, well, um, I’ll… okay, I’ll see you – um, I’ll ring you before I – on, um, Friday,” Tara stammered, before hanging up the phone so quickly that Willow didn’t have the chance to say goodnight.

Okay, ways to tell if someone’s gay…

[Kaia]

Oh, my...that has got to be the longest piece of babble ever written, in this board at least. Thank God I didn't forget to breathe while I was reading it...
You're an update machine, you know that? Thank you so much. I have to work again tomorrow (24-hours, yikes!) and I doubt I'm gonna have time to check for an update, but I most definitely will on Monday. I know you won't disappoint me.... (manipulative, much???)
Um, yeah. Enya. But there are a lot of talented Irish musicians, aren't there? I mean U2, Sinead O'Connor, Elvis Costello, The Corrs, The Cranberries, Ronan Hardiman, Sinead Lohan (I love her), Brian McNamara and many, many others that I'm obviously forgetting 'cause my memory sucks...
So, Ireland in March...the 17th, St. Patrick's day. Checked. Kinda cool, since it's 10 days before my birthday. I used to have a gf whose birthday was on St. Patricks day. And no, she's neither Irish nor named Patricia, hehe.

Thanks for the update. And please keep them coming. I wanna know more about the "I don’t usually go to bed at 7pm. When I’m sleeping on my own, anyway". Please?

Karinna

[WillowRulez]

Naughty naughty Tara
Wow, I dont think I've ever read a longer babble than that one. Congrats!
Soon more?

[leipreachan11]

Yeah, babble that long is easier read than written. I was cross-eyed after having read it repeatedly checking for typos etc, which I’m very particular about. Or does that make it easier written than read? I'm not sure, I'm rather tired.

And if you lived over here, Kaia, you’d know of the unfortunately hyper-successful (on this side of the pond) Westlife. And it’s a pity you’re not visiting this year (I don’t think I’ve ever done so much advertising for my country; I’m better than the new TV ‘Visit Ireland’ ad campaign): it’s been the driest so far for 6-9 years. In parts of the country, less than half the normal rainfall fell in January, the average temperature was 1 degree higher than usual, and in the west, a monthly total of 50 hours of sunshine was 13% above usual. Thank you, global warming.


And as for my updates, I guess it helps to begin having already pretty much finished. And boredom, boredom helps.


Here’s a short update of chapters 12 and 13.


Chapter 12

“You cannot tell anyone about this.”

Willow opened her eyes to find Tara looking shifty, carefully taking a small McDonald’s Coke cup from her bag.

“What? That you’re buying in McDonald’s instead of supporting our small local retailers? Why do you look so guilty?”

Tara closed the door and opened the cup’s lid. “It’s small and decaf, I didn’t want to keep you up or cancel out your medication or whatever the reason is that you can’t have caffeine. Still, I thought you’d still want some anyway ‘cause of how you miss it.”

Willow looked at Tara in disbelief.

“You waited until Dr. Danny and Nurse Emy were off to smuggle me in coffee in a Coke cup?” Christ, I love her.

“You can’t even tell Buffy. My good-girl reputation would be torn to shreds.”

If they only saw you in bed, you’d never get your reputation back. Willow immediately blushed and nearly drew blood biting down on her lips to keep her mouth shut. Judging by Tara’s flushed cheeks, she wasn’t the only one having trouble.

If anyone truly knew what we get up to, I’m pretty sure mine wouldn’t be the only reputation ruined. Tara corrected herself. What we got up to. Past tense.


“So Will, sorry we couldn’t celebrate your birthday last night. Annual Roaching Week’s important though, means less roaches.”

Willow giggled. Several consecutive jelly shots were rapidly working their way into her system. “Don’t you worry that pretty brain of yours, Mr X, I celebrated in style.” She giggled again, and moved closer to Xander, who was sprawled out on the couch, himself dealing with the effects of even more jelly-flavoured vodka – or was it vodka-flavoured jelly? – than Willow.

“Don’t tell her I told you ‘cause she’ll kill me, but Tara made me pass out last night.”

“The fact that you’re here laughing about it suggests that it was in a pretty enjoyable way.”

“You have absolutely no idea. She’s broke so couldn’t get a birthday present so apparently over the last couple of weeks, she’s been practising her gift. Don’t tell her I told you ‘cause she’ll kill me, but-” Willow leaned in to whisper in Xander’s ear “-last night I came simultaneously in five different places. Like five orgasms at once. It was so incredible and it lasted so long – so long – I just passed out with pleasure.” She leaned back, looking like the cat that got the cream. “Luckily Buffy was patrolling, but Dawn couldn’t look us in the eyes this morning, poor thing. We’re gonna havta buy her something really good to make up for the noise.”

“Five? At once? In totally separate places? How? Bull. How?”

“I have absolutely no idea how. All I know is when I woke up I’ve never been as tired and happy in my life. It took both of us like twenty minutes to stop panting. Okay, she’s back from the loo, don’t tell her I told you ‘cause she’ll kill me.”

“Sure.” Tara sat down beside Willow. “Tara, how on earth did you make Willow come in five different places at once? Tips please.”

Willow looked terrified, but to her great surprise, Tara looked smugger than she’d ever seen. Right, she matched Xander with the jelly shots.

“That’s my secret, Harris, but I’ll let you in on this much: the human body has four limbs and a mouth. Rosenberg, we’re dancing.” She pulled Willow away, leaving Xander in total confusion.

“Five?”


Chapter 13

Dr. Danny stood at Willow’s door, the girls oblivious to his presence. He was not usually a romantic man, but watching the two girls together still affected him. At first, when Willow was asleep, Tara sat by her bed as long as possible, holding her hand and occasionally whispering to her. Any time he saw this, his heart would melt. Now that Willow was recovering, the look of pure love on Tara’s face hadn’t gone away, though she no longer looked terrified every time he came into the room. It was obvious that poor Willow felt the same about Tara, and he often wondered why they were clearly no longer a couple. Nurse Emy once saw Danny staring at the pair, and since then had taken it upon herself to update him on anything she could find out. Apparently they had been a couple for around two years but had broken up about six weeks ago, allegedly because they ‘grew apart’, but she didn’t believe that, she was trying to find out the real reason. He didn’t ask her where all this information was coming from because Emy very rarely gave a straight answer, she usually filled him in on all the background to the question before eventually telling him anything. He also suspected that she was trying to set the poor girls up again. He really should give her more work to do.

Dr. Danny believed that the two girls had actually saved his marriage. The day after Willow woke up, he walked in on the two staring lovingly at eachother, though never at the same time. Tara would look up, they’d have a second of eye contact, then Willow would look away. Willow would then catch Tara staring, there’d be a second of eye contact… lather, rinse, repeat for two hours. When he saw them, he remembered how he’d felt just after he’d hooked up with his wife, before they got so busy. Just two orgasmic friends. Is ‘orgasmic’ a word? It should be. He realised that it had been far too long since he and his wife had been properly orgasmic. He went home that night a determined man, and since then he felt a lot better about their marriage. Of course, it had only been a fortnight, but still. Danny wasn’t sure why, but he’d felt it important to spell that out to Johnny Fox yesterday at lunch – he’d been acting very strange lately.

“Ladies. I have good news.” They jumped, both looking very guilty.

“Dr. Danny… I thought you were off today.”

“I swapped shifts. Okay, the news is- now, Tara, I told you Willow can’t have any caffeine. That includes soft drinks, so if you want a Coke, don’t be mean, have it outside. You’ll be trying to tempt her with the smell of coffee next, she’s been dying for that for some reason. What?”

Both girls were looking at him strangely.

“You don’t like the smell of coffee?”

“Oh no, I was in a car accident when I was younger, I have no sense of smell. Wonderful taste and touch though, a fair trade in my opinion. Now, the good news…”

[AlysonGoddess]

YAY update!!! hmm danny seems very fishy to me what is he up to .. does he like one of them or both of them or something? idk ill just wait and see but its bothering me.... poor willow she cant have her coffee but it was nice of tara to bring it to her. well im looking forward to another update sorry i cant say more but its sunday lots of things to do .. update soon plz!
erin

[WillowRulez]

If they only saw you in bed, you’d never get your reputation back.

Hihi...those two are so bad!
Does anyone pity Dawn here? No? Me neither
The hospital staff is too funny. Do they ever work? Good that Dr Danny cant smell! WT would have been in so much trouble... kinda cute that seeing a couple so in love helping someone realize that he got too much into routine and all.
Btw, you update so fast I sometimes to come back to three updates in a row! I love that. Please keep it up?

[spells42]

Lucky for W&T Dr D has no sense of smell...

Loved the flashback to the jelly shots memory.. 4 limbs and a mouth eh? The mind boggles... lucky Willow. And surely Dawn has an iPod she can turn up real loud?

So, when are these two gonna realise it's time to get back together? Maybe Willow will get discharged (is that the good news?) but will still need looking after so Tara has to move back into the Summers'? ??

Enjoying the story, keep it up, please. Long may your boss remain oblivious.

Anne

[leipreachan11]

Ah, another day, another update. Let's bow our heads for a moment in appreciation of the fact that my boss does a lot of work in Paris and so is out of the equation for the next 4 days.


I must warn you though, Ash Wednesday and as a result the start of Lent is this week. The first problem with this is that I can't eat meat on Wednesday, but if that's what it takes to create Pancake Tuesday, I can put up with it. The second problem which Lent creates is the supposed fasting and abstinance for the next 40 days. Now, let's face it, the fast isn't going to happen, but I usually make a vague effort to abstain from something, entirely in a 'just to see if I can' (which I usually can't) way, rather than an actual religious thing. So, is chocolate or impatience out the window?


And Kaia, and anyone else who would like to come to Ireland, you missed a great opportunity yesterday. You missed helping to make Ireland proud, when there was a nice big riot in the capital against the morons from the north who came a-marchin'... Fun to be had by all, especially if you enjoy burning out cars and throwing stuff at the guards - bricks, benches and petrol bombs, for example. I'll make sure to warn you before the next march/ wheelbarrow-throwing opportunity - yes, somebody brought a wheelbarrow into town to throw at the riot police - as it's apparently already being planned.



Chapter 13

“Okay, sweetheart, we’re done. Tara, that stuff works pretty fast, she won’t last long. She’ll probably be out until tomorrow so best say your goodbyes. I’ll see you in the morning Willow.” Nurse Emy left, leaving Willow as determined as usual to ignore the fact that her pain meds were designed to knock her out.

“So what’s up with school?”

“I’m a bit worried about Art Appreciation. Big exam tomorrow.”

“Don’t be stupid, you know you’ll ace it, as you always do. Appreciate art as much as you do and you’re doomed to pass. You have been spending a lot of time here though,” – yay! – “I’m not totally distracting you, am I? I know you’ve got the whole arty thing down, but I don’t want to be cutting your grades. We don’t want any frowns on that pretty little face now, do we? So don’t feel obliged to stay. Especially when I’m always falling asleep on you. These drugs are strong...” Willow’s eyes drooped as she yawned heavily. Realising that she was on a sliding slope towards sleep, she tried to keep herself awake by opening her eyes as widely as she could. Tara charitably didn’t inform her of how creepy this looked.

“I’m not obliged. I want you to feel better. I can appreciate art here.”

“Well, that’s true. I mean, there’s those soothing sunset and seaside photos in the halls. Though if they’re designed to cheer up patients, they’d probably be more effective if they were in the rooms rather than being a depressing reminder that we can't get out of bed to see them. Plus I’m told paediatrics have kids’ murals and stuff. You should donate some of your pictures, they’re so calming. And you say you’re no good. So talen...” Willow’s eyes had closed as she drifted off. Tara sighed softly.

She says I always make her feel good, that I make her feel special. Miss Rosenberg couldn’t imagine how she can make me feel every time she looks at me.


Tara bent down to tie her shoelaces. Standing back up, she saw Willow sitting on the bed with what could only be described as a leer on her face.

“What? Am I totally mismatched again?”

“No, sweetie, red and blue go together.”

“What about the designs? A starry jumper and stripy trousers?” Tara thought for a moment. “Do I look like a flag? God, I have the worst taste in clothes. You really should dress me in future. Why’re you staring at me?”

“First of all, it’s not the getting dressed part of your clothes-wearing that I want to be involved in. Second, you’re not a bad dresser. Sure that’s my jumper, so if you were a bad dresser, then we’d both have to be. And we’re not. Third, I’m staring because what’s not to stare at? I mean, look at you. Only a moron wouldn’t stare at this.”

“Wow. I guess there’s 6 billion morons in the world so, ‘cause no-one’s ever leered at me like you.”

“Are you serious? How could you have grown up without every guy in school hitting on you?”

“Well, did you?”

Willow raised a very sarcastic eyebrow. “Sure. I carried a stick around with me so I could beat them off.”

“Well, look at you. Believe me, you’re the hottie in this room. And if you didn’t get in trouble for regular stick-beatings, then it was the guys in Sunnydale High that’re the morons.”

Willow stood up, a serious look on her face.

“Tara, I’m kinda smart, right? I mean, I know stuff, and I examine stuff and analyse it to see if it’s true or not.”

“Of course with the smart part, and yes, you never stop with the examining stuff.”

“And do you think I lie to you? Like, all the time.”

“No. Not as far as I know.”

“Okay. So when I tell you that you’re beautiful, and sexy, and generally hot, I’m not lying. So you have to believe me because it’s true which is why I say it, because bizarrely you don’t seem to know it. Because I know hot when I see it, and you’re hot. And it doesn’t matter if you’re wearing a big brown cord trouser suit with purple runners, a black belt and a shirt with pictures on it of Spongebob Squarepants holding Jerry Springer’s hand, you’re hot.”

“Sweetie, if I ever wear anything involving Spongebob holding Jerry Springer’s hand, smother me in my sleep because I’ve obviously just had a lobotomy.”

“If it takes my promise to smother you like the Big Chief when you’re brain-dead to make you agree you’re hot, then fine.”

“Super.” Tara yawned dramatically. “You know, I’m kinda too tired for the Bronze, reckon we could skip it?”

“Well, Buffy said she was going to a thing at Riley’s, and Xander and Anya will probably stay for like 10 minutes. I don’t think they’d mind if we didn’t turn up. There’d be no point anyway, with you all… tired. Want me to go?” Willow smiled innocently.

“Well, I really am too tired to even take my clothes off myself.”

“Now, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t help you into bed?”

[Candleshoe]

I go away for one weekend and I miss so much! You are making me laugh out loud, and I cannot express how good that makes me feel.

I laughed so much at this:

That’s my secret, Harris, but I’ll let you in on this much: the human body has four limbs and a mouth.

that I then had to explain to my colleagues why I was making so much noise. They wished they hadn't asked, I think...although I noticed one of the guys sneak the diagram into his pocket.

If you have to give up anything, give up chocolate rather than impatience, as that will have less of an impact on the frequency of updates....I will be doing what I do every year - giving up dessert for approximately 37 minutes and then deciding that God created sugar, and therefore not eating it would just be rude.

[leipreachan11]

Candleshoe, would you not even extend the giving up of dessert for 40 minutes? At least the number would be involved... And I'd say your diagrams would go down well (no pun intended) over here - everyone I work with's been married for at least 10 years so they might want some reminder of how orgasmic, to borrow a phrase, they once were.

Also, you're right, if anything, giving up chocolate will probably have a better effect on updates as I'll no doubt be even more impatient and perhaps even bitter, bitterness which I'll no doubt inexplicably turn on my long-suffering and too nice for his own good boss. Then retribution for some non-existant sleight of his will probably take place in the form of me abandoning altogether any pretence of work, not even bothering with chin-tapping and fake thoughtfulness, and simply spend my time trawling the internet and boards, posting considerably more frequently than I would if I were trying the patience thing, where I might even make this thing last a whole 40 days and 40 nights... Yes, patience: not for me.

So I'll have to make the most of today and tomorrow before the whole attempt at abstinance thing kicks off. I've already begun today's orgy of chocolate, and I bought the lemons at lunch to go with tomorrow's dinner of my mother's pancakes, pancakes, pancakes. And, if I know my mother, some nice mashed potatoes and cabbage. No Irish dinner is complete without spuds and greens.

[Candleshoe]

I am running a Pancake Party again with a bunch of the local kids tomorrow evening - so wish me luck! I am so mean I make them eat one savoury one before they can start on the apple, chocolate and lemon concoctions!

I am beginning to see how you write Willow-babble so well....

PS: Need a Little Help With That is starting to grow on me as a title. Perhaps with the addition of a question mark, it could stay?

[leipreachan11]

Yes, I have been known for my stream of consciousness writing, though I'm not so famous for talking. In fact my brother called me Oz for a while when I persuaded him to tune in around seasons 3 & 4.

And I'm a simple one, I generally stick to copious amounts of caster sugar and lemon on my pancakes. Past attempts on my mother's part to make more elaborate - 'more elegant' - versions have not been successful: just as spinach doesn't belong on pizza, I'm of the firm opinion that chicken, peppers and, once again, spinach should stay out of the batter. Though I read about Beer Crepes: that does sound interesting. You could enjoy a few of them, then realise that it's actually supposed to be 'absolve your sins' Tuesday, so you could go to confession drunk... yes, a surefire way to book a place in Heaven.


Anyway, because Dawn reminds me of pancakes...


Chapter 14

“Ow.” Dawn was knocked to the floor.

“Oh, sorry Dawnie, didn’t see you there.”

“You know, Tara, you’re really not supposed to be running in the halls.”

“Sweetie, if I don’t run to the toilet right now, I’ll explode here. Going in to Willow?”

“Yeah, but I can come back later if I’m disturbing you?”

“No, I made the mistake of telling Willow I’m nervous about my finals. I’ve one down but a few to go. I’ve just been banished until they’re all done. I had to put it in writing. That’s gonna be like 6 days, so take care of her for me.”

“Okay. You’re coming to dinner tonight, right?”

“Sweetie, I think I’m cooking it.”

“Oh. Well, we’ll have to give you the week off as well. I’ll draw up the contracts.”

“I’ll bring a pen. Now, the bathroom awaits me. I’ll see you later sweetie.” Tara took off down the corridor to the toilets.

Dawn watched her leave, shaking her head. Racking her brain for anything resembling Tara’s latest outfit having featured in any fashion magazine anywhere ever, she drew a blank. A beacon-orange ankle-length skirt with grey patchwork, combined with brown sandals and a brown and yellow oversized shirt was just… inexcusable. She remembered reading something about gay artwork a few weeks ago which used the term ‘ironic political comment.’ Maybe this is something I’m too straight to get. An ironic lesbian political comment through the medium of stunningly awful fashion. Dawn remembered a mission she had undertaken as soon as Willow and Tara had moved in after Buffy had died. She could no longer bear the hideous attire of the pair, and decided she just had to do something.


“Janice, I need your help.”

“If it’s money, I’ve told you a thousand times, make Willow give maths grinds and charge twice as much as she thinks she’s getting. Skim a little off the top, you’re sorted, everyone’s happy. Well, everyone being you.”

“It’s not that, though I do plan on doing that. Do you still hate your cousin? The one who stabbed you in the back in some way you won’t explain.”

“The rich white trash one? Yup.” Unbeknownst to the cousin in question, Janice had had a serious grudge against her for a year now.

“Okay, how would you like to take revenge on her for that mysterious insult without her knowing it? And maybe earn a little cash at the same time?”

“I’m listening.”

“Okay, you know how Willow and Tara don’t understand the concept of matching clothes’ styles and colours and everything else? Well, I’ve decided to try to put an end to it. I’ve volunteered to switch my chores to laundry duty. I plan to slowly but surely remove the worst offenders. Like, every time I do the washing, I’ll take out one of their tops or whatever.”

“Sounds like a solid plan, but won’t they start noticing their clothes are going missing? Though they probably do get dressed by sticking their hand in the wardrobe and taking out the first thing they find – they probably wouldn’t notice a couple of missing shirts.”

“Well, if they call me on it, I plan on saying that I’ve accidentally shrunk loads of stuff and had to throw it out. And I plan on staging one huge massacre where I gather up all the completely repulsive stuff and pretend I washed it all on a far too hot mixed whites and coloured wash, then tell them that colours have run and everything’s shrunk and ruined and I felt too guilty to show them so I dumped them all.”

“And Bitchy Betty fits into this how exactly?”

“Well, she’s easily convinced by you, isn’t she? Whenever I’ve met her, she totally looks up to you, even though she’s older and you're a bitch to her. And she’s rich. Well, I was thinking that I could give you the clothes, then you could tell her that you know how much she hates shopping, and you saw these and thought they screamed her. Basically, get back at her for whatever, probably tiny, thing she did, through fashion, or lack thereof. Obviously, you’re gonna make her pay for them, and I’ll let you have… 20%. And you have to bring me out to a film and buy dinner or whatever so I don’t feel guilty.”

“I dunno how that’d make you feel less guilty, but whatever. And it wasn’t tiny what she did. So, make it 40% and it’s a deal. But there’s so many bad outfits, how do I explain an endless supply of clothes?”

“Okay, 33%, a third. And I’ve thought it all through. Just tell her there was this huge clearance and you had to buy everything, obviously stuff for you too, right then. Totally win-win for us: we’re both rich, those clothes are outta my sight and chances are I’m off the dreaded laundry duty. I have plans to screw up the hoovering too by mildly electrocuting myself. Then I might be judged unfit for any chores beyond folding towels. And if they go shopping to buy more, I’ll pretend I feel guilty so I’ll go along to help choose mildly less clown-like clothes.”


This little masterplan was well worth the inevitable pissed-offedness of the fashion-unconscious pair. Many awful ensembles had been sold off which, even after Janice’s cut, more than made up for the resulting grounding and cash cut-off. When she was rich and famous, Dawn would no doubt remember this as her first business venture.

[Kaia]

Umm...I didn't forget Westlife. And ok, I will admit it...I even like a few of their songs and I'm pretty sure I have a CD in my car, so sue me! Ha! Anyway...I could have gone farther, I could have mentioned Boyzone (yuck!), but I won't.
And this post will probably have no coherence at all but I have been awake since 7 am on Sunday and I still can't go to bed. Guess I'm too tired to sleep. I tried writing another chapter to my own story but then the coherence issue came up and I realized I wouldn't get any work done in this state of mind anyway, so I decided to leave Feedback.
So...where are the smoochies? I need my vicarious W/T smoochies.
Umm...spinach crèpes! Yum! Artichoke crèpes are yummy too, but I'm gonna have sushi for dinner 'cause Paola wanted sushi. And I'm sure Toby (my 1 yo yorkshire terrier) won't mind at all since he always gets a piece of raw salmon when we do and he loves it. The only problem is I don't know if she wants shrimp or kanikama in the california roll and whether to get masago or sesame seeds.
Anyway...your Willow is too cute for words. I wish they would talk about their now non-existent relationship so the non existent status changes soon.
I'm outta here. Take care and update soon! I have the day off tomorrow, plenty of time to read!

K.

[WillowRulez]

Another cute update!
Haha, Dawn is a lifesaver (no....! don't hit me!)

[spells42]

< me after reading Dawn's little plot.

Hopefully she'll get the opportunity - soon - to .... filter ..... Tara's wardrobe again, when she moves in to take care of Willow???

[leipreachan11]

Well, I’m now in my third sweets and chocolate-less day today (I actually forgot to bring money into work on Tuesday and couldn’t pop down the shops for a few bars). So, due to this lack of sugar and something to take my mind off what I’m missing, my water and fruit consumption has sky-rocketed (not including dinner veg, I ate 9 pieces of fruit yesterday and drank 4 litres of water) while my patience and pleasantness have plummeted (my poor co-workers). Add to that a dodgy work internet connection meaning I couldn’t alleviate this impatience by updating and you don’t get a very happy citizen.


Anyway. Now I have to tack on all the stuff that goes before a chapter.

Summary: I do recommend that you read the other chapters before this because, let’s face it, that’s just common sense. If, however, you’ve done this and still need a summary because it’s been too long since the last chapter, I have three suggestions:
1) Get your memory checked. It’s been three days and the last update is three posts above this. You’re obviously as hyper-forgetful as me, dumping info as soon as you’re done writing/ reading it.
2) The summary is: Willow was in a mysterious incident in the Magic Box which landed her in hospital. Her friends visit her, resulting in some recollection.
3) Get your memory checked. It’s been three days and the last update is three posts above this. You’re obviously as hyper-forgetful as me, dumping info as soon as you’re done writing/ reading it.

Disclaimer: I own all the characters’ names and personalities, settings, plot-lines, memories and anything else involved with Buffy. These were borrowed by others to make the show. Hang on... do I? Were they? I’ll go check in my Personal Copyrighted Items Safe and get back to you.

Rating: Not sure about American ratings, but going by various websites, it’d probably be PG. Sorry, I’m not great at the smut.

Dedication: I’d like to say thank you to all the nice people who’ve read this. I’m up to 3,000 viewings, only half of which are me re-reading and complimenting myself on my work.



Chapter 15


“So we’ll see you when we get back, sweetheart. Feel better!” As her parents hurried from the room, Willow reflected on her relationship with them. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; they might be my relatives, but the Scoobies are my family. She knew her parents of course loved and cared about her, but they were always so busy that they had often come across as simply being indifferent towards her. This showed even in their reaction to Willow’s spell in hospital. Buffy had rung her parents as both were at conferences in Washington. After she was told that her daughter was in a coma, Willow’s mother had actually asked if she was expected to stay that way for another couple of days, because she was the keynote speaker in two days’ time, a real and rare honour. Upon hearing this, Buffy stood in shock for a long moment.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Rosenberg, you obviously didn’t hear me correctly. Your daughter is in a coma. Hopefully she’ll wake up in the next two days, but whether she does or not, I think it’s pretty typical for parents – for human beings – to visit her.”

“Oh you’re right, of course they’ll need her medical insurance information to get her into a private room. Fine, Ira and I will be there as soon as possible.”

Since then, Willow’s parents visited her every day, though they sometimes unknowingly made it look like a chore. Willow needed to do some sort of maths to keep her mind from going crazy, so out of pure boredom she began to calculate her visitors’ average stays. Her parents, despite the fact that they were indeed her parents, usually stayed with her for half an hour. Her friends, however, each stayed an average around an hour and a quarter, while Tara, before Willow had banned her, visited for roughly 2 hours and 40 minutes, though she had been known to stay an impressive 5 hours, even if Willow kept dozing off. She felt so safe when she had company, which she usually did, as the gang had worked out a rough visiting timetable built around their various duties.

Anya had begun to come alone, as she was being encouraged to stay away from the Magic Box for the time being. She had eagerly drawn up plans for the new and improved shop, but still got upset any time she saw the damage, even after Xander’s thorough clean-up. He had dubbed her visits ‘lamentograms’, so persuaded her to wait until everything was ready before they started on her plans. There was only so much amateur planning she could do, though, so out of complete lack of purpose, she came up with the idea to read to the still one-eyed Willow, who missed her books dearly. Plus, now that Tara was banned from visiting, there was a big gap in the patient’s schedule. Anya saw this as a win-win situation: Willow needed her mind to be taken off a missing Tara, and also desperately needed some sorts of academics, while Anya was giving herself something to do besides watch talk shows dealing with wronged women. These just plain annoyed her - crying about it on national TV wasn’t going to fix anything: vengeance was the only way. In fact, the only reason she watched the shows was to wait for an interesting job if someone wished horrible torment on her ex, something which, bizarrely, never happened. So, books it was, just about enough to stave off both Willow and Anya’s boredom. She had bought quite a diverse range of reading material, from Blueprints for Beginners (that was partly for her own good) to Agatha Christie to Computers for Dummies to lesbian ‘erotic fiction’. Anya insisted on reading the latter, being absolutely comfortable with reading gay porn to someone in a hospital bed, though, to Willow’s great surprise, she did pause when anyone came into the room. Xander had finally managed to teach her the basics of tact. She was quite proud of the fact that she had pointed out only to Xander that she was doing Willow a favour; lying in bed and constantly seeing Tara, the poor girl could do nothing about what must be incredible sexual frustration. Xander wasn’t sure how exactly reading what probably only served to remind Willow of what they used to do was helping her to release her frustration, but Anya seemed so proud of herself that he didn’t argue the point.


Willow thought about this. Shouldn’t the two people who you miss most when they aren’t there to take care of you, the two who looked after you the best, shouldn’t they be your parents? Not your surrogate mother, not your ex-girlfriend: shouldn’t it be your mom and dad who’d be fussing over you non-stop?

Life can suck. Avoidable dumpings, unavoidable death; life can suck. Especially when it’s your own doing, and all you’re left with are memories.


“You know, it should be compulsory for everybody to see your boobs once before they die. I always thought it was really unfair and sleazy that guys go for the better-endowed chicks, as that obviously put me totally out of the running. But I guess it’s not until you get to the stage where you’re so close that you can lie here staring that you realise just how important to the anatomy they are. So on some level, guys checking you out are probably very sub-consciously appreciating just how anatomically correct you are, as opposed to just being hot.” Willow lay with her head on Tara’s neck, allowing her a prime view of her two of her top three favourite sights in the world (number 1 being Tara’s lips, of course). She continued her ramblings.

“There’d just be no war at all if people could see these because everyone would be so happy and calm. Though I suppose the girls wouldn’t get much Willow-time if 6 billion people were walking by them as you sat like a circus attraction. But maybe they could just watch us as we went at it… I know even Xander would vote if that idea went to the polls. I’m not sure I’d enjoy that many people watching us in bed though, it might get weird once we hit a billion. But imagine we charged them all one cent to die happy! We could buy UC Sunnydale and take the hours 7-11 completely off the timetable so that no class started before midday. And we could arrange the schedule around us so that there’s also nothing on on our Occasion Days.”

“Will, you’ve declared so many Occasion Days that we’d end up having class about three times a year.”

“I have not! Extra Loving - I mean Occasion Days - are few and far between.”

“Really? So while we celebrate Australia Day, St Patrick’s Day, anti-Thanksgiving, real-but-it’s-a-yam-sham Thanksgiving, Chanukah, Christmas, Passover, New Year, Chinese New Year, Memorial Day, Mothers/ Fathers and Grandparents Days, Cinco de Mayo and Groundhog Day, to name but a few, Occasion Days remain a rarity?”

“Exactly! Plus, a lot of them don’t count because they’re holidays anyway. Also, I was thinking we should add Veteran’s and President’s Days.”

“I suppose a day in bed is an excellent way to honour our dead soldiers and presidents.”

“Agreed. So about those boob viewings.”

“Sweetie, you know these are all yours...”

And they were. She was. How many times had she told me that? That no-one else would ever get to kiss her, to know the real Tara, the person I knew better than anyone else. How could I risk that? How could I just throw that away? She was right, I violated her - and God knows I’m paying for it.


“Willow? Anyone in there?” Nurse Emy clicked her fingers at her favourite patient, as she so often had to do. Willow blinked, slowly coming out of her daydream.

“What?”

“It’s dinner time sweetheart. I’ll leave it here on the table. It’s jelly day!”

“Oooh, my favourite seven days of the week. Thanks a mil.” Emy left to join Nurse Jenny in the hall.

“God, she might be one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, certainly smarter than some doctors here – paging Dr Holland – but she sure does daydream.”

“No doubt about that wonderful Tara,” added Jenny. “She’s in every day, but only touches poor Willow when she’s asleep. They seem lovely together, I wonder why they broke up.”

“Well, they obviously don’t want to be broken up because the pair of them look ready to pounce on eachother. I know sexual tension when I see it - or feel it, I suppose - and that place is on fire with it whenever I go in when they’re alone.

“Mary’s right, you’re trying to set them up again.”

“What?! That Mary, she’s always going on.”

“Sure it’s true. When you’re talking to them you always say fake faux pas, or whatever they’re called. Like you never say to them ‘your friend here’, you always say ‘your girl –your friend here’. And you go in on purpose to see what they’re talking about.”

“Well, it’s not like they say anything interesting when I’m around. More’s the pity, there hasn’t been much to talk about around here.”

“Did I not tell you about Dr. Rogers? Mary saw...”