by Katharyn » Thu Sep 05, 2013 2:01 am
Title: Tara and Willow – Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda – Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Absolutely, yes please. That’s why I write for this place, to engage in the discussion about the story.
Spoiler warning: Not sure why I am bothering, really, but Season 4 and Season 5 of BTVS.
Distribution: This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens and the Kitten Board please. No conversion to eBook or other formats please. Enjoy it here.
Summary: The final chapter paralleling ‘Triangle.’
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc. I am making no money from this series of stories however all original characters and situations remain my property. As this is a missing scenes and alternate reality fiction lots of scenes are new versions of those seen in the show, as such dialogue and situations are taken from the show. I’m sure you can tell which. All credit for those aspects goes to the original writers.
Rating: Occasional, tasteful, adult situations and contextual bad language. However by and large equivalent to the show.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever, that’s all I’m bothered about.
Text convention: Use of italics denotes either special emphasis if used for a single or a few words in a sentence OR first person thoughts if used for a whole sentence.
Notes: So, as mentioned above, this will finalise ‘Triangle’. I started out thinking this ending would be pretty short, but it grew and grew into quite a long part all on it’s own which was how the ‘jarring’ in the last part happened. Now, in the final section of this chapter, I’m asking one of those questions that just demands an answer for the benefit of humankind, or at least the lady-loving-lady part of it. I actually had a conversation very much like certain elements of this this one, not only about the existence of the phenomemum but also placing me on the receiving end. But can we be? Is Willow? Answers in the thread please if you’re in a position to be able to answer…
Thanks to: All of you kittens. As I redraft this it is New Year’s Day and it’s been many, many such days that I’ve been writing Tara and Willow thanks to this place. (And when I prepped the part for posting it was June 30th and many many days more we’ve had!)
“I still can’t believe you said this was my fault,” Willow said, flicking too angrily through the latest spell-book. These things needed proper indices and clear, unambiguous organisation. Where were all the ‘get rid of an accidentally summoned troll’ spells located anyway?
Jenny had been on the right lines when she wanted to get everything scanned and the metadata added to make searching a snap.
Then she wouldn’t have had to be here with Anya. Anya who insisted this was her fault.
“You’re the one doing magic without realising the consequences, or checking for them,” Anya told her. “There’s nothing more dangerous.”
Again with the accusations.
“Hey! We’d have just had an anti-vampire, twenty minute burst of localised sunshine if you hadn’t interfered with the casting. I warned you about that. But no, you just can’t help yourself. Everything is better if you interfere, right?”
“If you really thought that you should’ve stopped and looked at safety first. Any good witch would.”
What kind of ‘bad’ was Anya insinuating she was?
An incautious one? Or one who was bad at what she did? After all, troll. Still better than ‘wicked witch.’
“Perhaps if the crystal hadn’t been contaminated by a suspended troll then I wouldn’t have had to worry about it,” she accused. “Who does that? Who just leaves him there?”
“He was put there by witches.”
“After you cursed him and made him into something that witches had to clean up after.” There was little question about it. Undoubtedly witches through the ages had been cleaning up after Anyanka. In that – at least - she was probably following a time-honoured rite in the best traditions of the craft.
So who was a bad witch now? Huh? That’s right.
“Well… he annoyed me.”
“There!” Willow said.
“What?”
“That’s it exactly. That’s what gets to me the absolute most about you.”
“What?”
“Casual threats of cursing and violence and… making guys into eunuchs.”
“I didn’t make him a eunuch, I made him a troll. Rampaging eunuchs aren’t really a problem anywhere.”
“This time. I can’t believe when you first got here, you were telling us how different everything was, that you’d fallen in love and that dating and sex were so new to you. That was just… a tissue.”
“Bless you.”
“No, a tissue. Like a tissue of lies.”
“Oh, yeah… I may have exaggerated a little. But I do like money. Even when I could have what I wanted without needing to earn or spend or be given it, I like being able to. And getting presents.”
“And Xander does that.”
“Yes,” Anya said happily. “He does. That was new. I’ll tell you, Olaf never bought me anything.”
“So you turned him into a troll?”
“No, not because of that.”
“What would it take for you to turn Xander into something then? Troll… Eunuch… What is it that would make you dish out some righteous vengeance?” Willow asked, getting it off her chest. Better than most she understood what Anyanka had been able to do, she’d nearly fallen victim to it, after all.
“I’d never hurt him,” Anya said, glaring in a way that suggested the qualifier was exclusive to her boyfriend. “Besides, I don’t have any powers anymore. Remember?”
“Huh.”
“You’re the magical one, you’re the one who could do something to him, to all of us. You’re the one that D’Hoffryn wanted to offer my job to. And he’s a demon with standards, I should know. Maybe Xander should be afraid of you. Maybe all of us should be?”
“What makes you think I’d hurt him? Or even you?” D’Hoffryn had wanted to offer her a job? Tara had mentioned the little administrative demon Diana had intercepted but… he’d wanted to make her a vengeance demon?
“You kissed him,” Anya said. “More than once.”
“Well, that’s one thing that’s never going to happen again.”
“So you say.”
“Surprisingly enough, Xander’s not high on my list of people to kiss.”
“No, because you already did that! It’s the rest of it I have to worry about.”
“There’s about three billion people in the world I’d rather kiss than Xander,” Willow said. “And only one that I’m going to. Because, hello, gay now? Actually, gay with a girlfriend? You may have noticed. Hot blonde? Body to die for? She’s your friend? We both call her Tara?”
Of course, I call her some other things too.
Anya pursed her lips, actually seeming to think about that, which was a big step.
And… she could see how, maybe, Anya was a bit insecure about her presence. She’d known Xander nearly all her life and at one point they’d been close enough to lock lips, close enough to risk breaking up with their own partners… Maybe her worries weren’t that illogical.
Just unfounded.
After all, there was the whole gay thing, which wasn’t something that should be lightly dismissed since, yeah, it did put those three billion women above him. And even if all the women disappeared from the world tomorrow – including Tara - it wasn’t like she was even then going back to boystown just as a matter of convenience.
My desires, now they’re awakened, lie elsewhere I’d be the last, lonely girl in the world before I went back to boys. Someone like Giles, who liked big words, would probably say I was ‘irrevocably’ gay.
Yup, that was it. She definitely wasn’t revocable.
“Just supposed,” Willow said, pausing at another page that wasn’t going to help. “Just suppose that I was willing to admit that, maybe, you feel something real for Xander and that – even if he hurt you somehow – you weren’t going to turn him into something or shatter all reality to get back at him. What if I wasn’t worried about the worst thing you could do?”
“I suppose,” Anya said, getting the idea, “that I could probably agree that you prefer vagina now and that – unless I did something vengeancy to him – that is one thing Xander can never give you.”
Okay, that had been put in terms she didn’t even want to think through because… no. But, was that a theoretical agreement between them? Détente?
“Not how I would’ve put it,” Willow said. “But that’s just me,” she added hurriedly.
“Also, you’re pussy whipped.”
“I am not pussy whipped.”
“You are so pussy whipped. When was the last time you said ‘no’ to Tara?”
Willow thought about that, thought she had it and held up a finger but… no. “I don’t need to say ‘no’ to Tara. She understand me, I understand her. We’re in synch with each other.”
“Yes, she says and you do everything she says.”
“It’s not like that.”
“You shouldn’t mind,” Anya said in what was probably supposed to be a comforting way. “Most of the strongest relationships I’ve ever come across – and there’ve been a lot – have been like that. There’s rarely ever a need for vengeance where he’s pussy whipped. Or she, in your case.”
I’m not pussy whipped.
And… what the hell is that name about anyway? I should be getting at her about that rather than arguing about something that should be obvious.
“I’m not,” she managed limply. But then she thought, this rapprochement with Anya was newly formed and something Tara would approve of…
Something Tara would approve of. All she needed was to meet the standards that Tara would approve of. As a woman, as a student, as a partner and a lover. As a girlfriend.
She wasn’t just being diplomatic when she changed her mind. “Or maybe I am…” She just wouldn’t have used those words.
“Maybe you are what?”
A loud, booming voice from the door as the troll pushed his way through it and only splintered the frame to get in.
“In the wrong place,” Willow squeaked. “Eeep.”
“Anyanka!”
“Olaf…” Anya said, backing away slowly.
“Get back, girls!” Xander came into the store next.
“We’re back – we’re as far back as we’re going to get,” Willow said. “There ain’t any further back we can go.”
Maybe, in hindsight, she shouldn’t have said anything as it seemed to break his stride. “Yeah… um, well stay there.” Xander squared up to the troll. And he appeared less like a square and more of a thin line…
“You can’t fight him,” Anya shouted.
“Shut your mouth, woman,” Olaf instructed. “If the tiny man wishes to fight me then he shall have his chance. I’ve drunk. I’ve wenched. Babies were absent – roasted or raw - but now it’s time for a good fight!”
“You’ve wenched?” Willow asked, shocked.
“Oh, Willow, you have no idea what some girls will put up with for a big - ” Anya stopped, looked at Xander. “For big muscles.”
Yeah, that was what she’d been about to say. Exactly that. No hesitation at all or awkward choice of words. Right.
Then Anya whispered. “That’s why I didn’t make him a eunuch.”
Oh.
“Come, little man, save your women!”
“I’m not his woman,” Willow pointed out. You just wait until my woman gets here…
“And I’m not little!” Xander insisted. “In any sense. Right?”
Anya shook her head and gave him two thumbs up, probably trying to be reassuring. But if you had to ask then…
“You’re not going to let him fight Olaf?!”
“I don’t know how I’m going to stop it,” Anya said. “Do you?”
“Run?”
Too late. Xander attacked the troll and she had to admit, it was impressive. Not impressive like Faith’s fury. Not impressive like Buffy’s grace or quips under fire. But impressive like, she hadn’t known he had it in him. Impressive that he strung a number of punches and even a couple of kicks together. Had he been… training?
What wasn’t so impressive was the impact he was having. The wall of muscle barely rippled as Xander gave it his best. Simply absorbing it all, letting him expend his efforts for a good two or three minutes, until sweat was running from him and his attacks slowed and got less forceful.
“Very good little man, I’m impressed by your willingness to defend your women.”
“I keep telling you. I’m not his woman,” Willow said again, though Olaf didn’t seem to hear. Even through her worry though, Anya gave her a smile. It was what she wanted to here. “Keep looking,” Willow encouraged. “We have to find something. Fast.”
“You have a big heart, when the rest of you is so little,” Olaf said, his words rumbling through the air.
“I’m not… I’m not little,” Xander said, punching him again but it turned out to be little more than a slap.
“Well, he’s not… big,” Anya explained, as if she needed to know.
Too much information. “Keep looking!”
“Ha! Fine spirit. Fine spirit! I choose to reward your courage and your spirit. Only one of the women will die. You may choose.”
Willow’s jaw dropped for a moment. She’d lived with being a Slayer’s sidekick for a long time now, facing death on a regular basis. But very rarely focused on her. Usually it would’ve been coincidental. They were after Buffy, or more recently Faith, and if they’d fallen then everyone else would’ve suffered the same fate.
Or the whole world would.
But it was a long time since someone had actually threatened her.
“I’m not choosing!” Xander said, hitting Olaf again or at least trying to. Instead of letting that happen, the troll caught his arm, twisted and – very deliberately – broke his wrist.
Obviously Xander screamed and both of them looked, ready to run to him but… The troll was there and the only way it was going away was if they found something to banish him. That was the way that they were going to help him – and themselves.
“Choose, little man.” It sounded like the emphasis was more on ‘man’ than ‘little’ now though.
“No – I can’t – I can’t choose. I love them – I love them both, my best friend and my girlfriend how am I supposed to choose between them?” He was angry, he was furious and if he hadn’t been in agony and having to support his broken wrist he’d have still been pounding the troll.
“Love and loyalty? Ha. She’s not worthy of that… Perhaps the other one is. Choose. Or all three of you die and you’ll watch them go first.”
“No, Olaf. No.”
Anya stepped away from the spell books, but tapped it, showing Willow that she ought to keep looking.
Somehow though… she had to watch while… wait, this was… Maybe this spell had possibilities.
“Anyanka… are you going to beg for his life now?”
“If you want – Kill me, if you have to kill someone. Not him. Not even her.”
Willow was following the spell through, translating the floral handwriting into something she could actually utter under her breath as she saw what Anya was doing.
Offering herself up with no tricks up her sleeve. Who’d have thought?
Willow had to focus on the reading though, gathering power into herself and then she’d be able to release it through the power of ritual and words. She felt the magic gathering, but it was drawn from herself. There were no powders, no crystals, and no potions. All of the power was coming from her and –
The cash register vanished.
The troll was still right there and then bellowing with laughter.
And maybe that delay was enough because Buffy came through the door a moment later and didn’t quip, didn’t ask questions or hesitate. The Slayer just launched herself at him which gave Anya time to get Xander away from the fight.
Then Tara was there too. “What are we doing?” Tara asked, slipping right into the task at hand, not even pausing to find out if she was okay.
“Oh, we’re trying to get rid of him,” Willow said, reaching out with the rest of the power that she’d been gathering and focusing more carefully. It was a spell that took inanimate objects… The hammer. The hammer was ripped from his grasp and flew across the room, leaving the troll barehanded against Buffy and though its reach still exceeded hers, it was about half of what it had been.
And Buffy was faster.
“Why do you defend her?” Olaf demanded. “She is difficult, their love will never last.”
“You have to give it a chance,” Buffy said, ducking under his swipe, coming and driving her hand into his… Ouch, that probably still hurt if you were a troll.
And yes, it staggered him.
“Here,” Tara said. “What about this?”
Willow had been about to go to Xander, but Anya had that in hand and Buffy had Olaf well and truly distracted.
“That’s it!” She quickly kissed her girl on the lips and hugged her, but couldn’t linger on it. They had to get this troll out of here and working together, when they didn’t have the ritualistic ingredients to make it happen, was going to lessen the pain and discomfort of drawing all that energy through themselves.
“Hold.”
It was Diana, in the doorway behind them.
The battle deeper in the store went on, another of Giles’ shelves was destroyed and – with his wrist busted – Xander wasn’t going to be making any more of them for a while.
That and the cash register had vanished.
Someone wasn’t going to be happy…
“I said HOLD.”
The whole place shook, the light coming through the window dispersed and darkened. It was like a storm was about to hit, blotting out the sun and everyone stopped. Just stopped.
“Slayer, leave him be. Trolls are valuable allies and we do not often see the like in these times.”
Allies? Was… Was Diana offering it… a job?
“Will you join us Master Troll?” the Huntress asked.
“What are you?”
“Time enough for that later.”
“What do you offer?” he asked.
“Ale. Wine. As much as you can drink. And a mighty battle against impossible odds.”
Olaf considered for a moment, then nodded, ceasing his struggle with Buffy. “Ale. Win. Battle. Wenches?”
“You see to that yourself. No infants.”
“Very well, huntress, but then you keep Anyanka away from me, or I will not be responsible for what happens.”
The troll departing in the wake of the Goddess, it was kind of tough to accept what had just happened. And so fast… One minute – and the next?
“What?” Buffy asked. “Just happened?”
“Yeah, that was what I was just wondering.”
“He’s on our side now…” Tara concluded. “I think. She does that sometimes.”
“Just like that?”
It was like they’d done a spell to make him vanish, except… they hadn’t. No argument, no discussion, no tests of strength or proof of ale. Olaf had just accepted Diana’s word and… gone with her.
“She’s right though,” Anya said. “Trolls are mighty allies. Women of Sunnydale look out!” A beat later she amended her statement in a sign of their newfound understanding. “Not the gay ones, obviously…”
“Thanks.”
“Though it may make the men a little insecure…”
The one man in the room groaned, but at the state of his wrist.
“And in nine to twelve months… you can expect a lot of big babies. Trolls are very fertile and compatible too.”
“Anya!”
But it was too late. Now they knew.
----------------------
The ‘Welcome back to Sunnydale’ message couldn’t be emphasised too much, which was what Willow had said and Tara had to agree. But three such messages were a bit much. Right?
She, Buffy and Joyce had all come together to meet with Mister Giles now that he was back and though she was pleased to see him – they all were - she was really here for moral support. Because Willow was worried.
Not about the damage to the store. That was only to be expected and though Mister Giles had bemoaned the impact on his bottom line – which sounded dirtier out loud than it had in her head – numerous people had pointed out that, if you weren’t a chalk outline on the floor then you were doing better than most of the previous owners.
No, she was here because Willow was worried about the car.
Yes, he’d been able to tell that someone had driven it and said as much, without asking who that had been.
“That would be Anya,” Buffy had supplied when she hadn’t actually gone there and named names.
“Anya… oh. Well, I’m sure there was a good reason for it. Chasing down the troll, were you?”
“She – she was pretty motivated once it had done some damage,” Tara had explained.
“And those things move fast!” Buffy had told him. “Even if it was mostly in a big circle.”
“Absolutely, they’re deceptive in their swiftness,” he’d agreed. “So… Anya? Doesn’t she not have a drivers licence since she’s trying to prove she’s a person before she can get in line at the department of motor vehicles?”
“Technically,” Tara had been forced to admit. It was true, Anya had no actual, legal identity. Yet. “But… Willow said she’s a very good driver. She didn’t hit anything.”
“That’s how we’re measuring the fact she’s a good driver? She didn’t hit anything?”
And that was where they were up to…
“It was an emergency,” Tara said weakly, feeling like she ought to stand up for her both her friend and her girlfriend. Willow had been in the car too. Just because she and Buffy had caught up on foot because the chase had gone in those giant – but shrinking – convoluted loops, that didn’t mean that they hadn’t been trying their best.
All of them.
Of course Sunnydale didn’t have a one way system, but Anya probably had a fear of turns across traffic… or something anyway.
“Well, the car looked okay… Has it been waxed?”
“We thought – they thought – Willow thought that it should be well treated.”
“Good instinct that girl,” Giles said. “Thank her for me. How about the petrol? Was that them too?”
“He means the gas,” Buffy said.
“I know,” Tara said.
“I was telling my Mom.”
“Oh…”
“So, did you find anything out?” Buffy asked. “Was it worth it? England?”
Oh yes, and there’s the other reason I’m here. The one I can’t tell Willow about.
“Going home’s always worthwhile,” Giles said, casting a wary look at Joyce.
“You know what I mean,” Buffy pressed. “The Council, what do they know about Glory and the Key?”
“Ah, are you certain we should be discussing this here?” Giles asked, giving Joyce a sidelong look.
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Buffy’s Mom said. “I know all about it.” She adjusted her scarf. The one she and Willow had gotten for her. And yes, it really did suit her better than the one Buffy had found.
Facts were facts, she didn’t have to feel like a bad friend for knowing it.
“Ah…”
“Mom guessed,” Buffy said, confirming that she hadn’t actually broken the agreement that they’d actually first broken in order to tell him, so he could hardly object now could he?
But it probably wasn’t that Joyce was a civilian and more that she was still recovering that bothered him. Tara was well aware that he had a soft spot for Buffy’s Mom – they all knew it. And she knew that it came from all sorts of places.
He was English, for one thing and he had a lot of respect for Mrs Summers and particularly how she’d dealt with her daughter and her illness. Then there was the simple fact that he knew how much he put her through, putting Buffy in danger time after time.
And yes, Willow had told her enough about things for her to know that there’d been something between them. Something that Ethan had caused and neither entirely seemed to regret.
To the extent that – before her illness – there’d been frequent speculation about the two of them getting together again. Which… she couldn’t help thinking it could’ve been a good thing.
“I didn’t guess. I figured it out,” Joyce corrected.
“Well, in that case, to answer your questions, yes, I suspect the Council knows something. They’re quite well connected,” Giles said. “Certainly if the Catholic Church had information then the Council has picked up on that. However I wasn’t able to gain access to any information we weren’t aware of – it isn’t the sort of thing they leave lying around, even for their own people.”
“But you don’t know?” Buffy asked. “What there is to know? Even if you don’t know it?”
“No,” he admitted.
“And what about Hope?” Joyce interrupted. “That’s more important at the moment. Well, I’m sorry but it is.”
“No, you’re quite right,” Giles admitted. “They don’t know about her. I didn’t say anything and they have no idea about where the Key is. Or what it is now. Let alone whom. Even so, they’re obviously quite keen to secure it.”
“And if they figure it out?” Joyce asked. “These are smart men and women if you’re any indication.”
Giles smiled, happy to take the compliment. “Thank you.”
“But if I can figure it out then surely they can, and what then for Hope?”
“What then about Hope what?” Hope asked, walking into the room. Tara could see from her face that she’d been stood there a while because she was already suspicious. Upset. Hurt that they were talking about her.
And confused.
She didn’t know though. Just like the Watchers.
“Hey,” Tara said, going over and hugging the younger Lehane sister. “How are you, honey?”
Pretend like nothing’s wrong, let her make the move if she’s heard enough to worry about it. Otherwise… let her keep being the sweet, kind girl she is. Innocent.
“Why are you talking about me?” Hope asked, shrugging the hug off.
They all looked at each other, hoping that someone else had the explanation that Hope was demanding. But everyone was coming up empty until… “It’s about Faith,” Tara lied, hating herself. “That’s all. If the Watcher’s find out about her they might try to take her into custody and one way they could find out would be because of you.”
“I wouldn’t - ”
“No!” Buffy said, taking up the story now that it’d been pointed out. “Of course we know you wouldn’t say anything. But they could just find out about you. That’s all. They know who you are, eventually they’d have to worry why you were still here when Faith isn’t. We’re trying to get them to believe that.”
“That’s all?” Hope asked.
“That’s all.”
“Promise?”
“Of course we do,” Joyce said, being the last of them to commit to telling a fifteen-year-old girl a big fat lie… And maybe Joyce’s agreement was the part that sold it the most.
It was shocking how easily the lie came to them all.
--------------------
“Baby, I just asked you a question,” Willow pointed out.
Tara was distracted, really very distracted. What was up with her anyway? “Huh?”
“Oh, I just asked if you’d fancied wild, gay, monkey sex swinging from the ceiling…”
“Oh.”
“Not really,” Willow said. Just in case Tara had said yes and she really didn’t have the equipment to make that happen. Not even knowing what they’d need… “What’s up, love?”
“Sorry,” Tara said, shaking her head as if to clear it. “I’m sorry, I’m just thinking. Once Giles got back… there were a couple of things he said. He figured out Anya was driving.”
“So it’s not my fault…”
“I think he’s bothered that you let her,” Tara said. They were sat in the dorm kitchen and one of them had finished her yoghurt while the other was just twirling a spoon in it absently. No prizes for spotting who had the distraction then.
“But that’s not what’s bothering you,” Willow said, playing with her spoon. “Was it bad news?”
“It wasn’t great news,” Tara said. “But wasn’t actually bad per se.”
“And do I get a hint?”
“You get all of it,” Tara said. “In the morning. There’ll be a meeting.”
Willow smiled, letting it go. Yes, she was curious. But if it was something she needed to know then Tara would’ve already told her. Right now, she needed to stop worrying about things she couldn’t help and she needed to eat her damn yoghurt already.
“Got something to ask you…” she said.
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know if I should, I don’t know if you’ll give me the real answer.”
“You can’t do that, you can’t tell me you’ve got something to ask me and then not ask me without even telling me what it was!”
But it’d accomplished her immediate objective hadn’t it? Getting Tara’s mind off the ‘whatever it was.’
“I don’t know…”
“You know I won’t lie to you,” Tara said.
“But you might… spare my feelings,” Willow concluded. That was very possible. If it’d hurt her more than knowing? Yes, Tara would do that.
“Oh, it’s a serious question then?”
“Kinda,” she confirmed.
“Go on, I can take it. I’ll tell you the truth, no matter what.”
“Okay… okay…” Willow took a deep breath. “You have to be really honest and – I know this is kind of awkward what with your role in it and everything, but who else am I going to ask?”
“Willow…”
“Okay, okay. Baby, do you think I’m pussy whipped?”
Tara sat there, looking at her. Surprised, to say the very least. Maybe she got points for being unexpected. “That’s a horrible thing to say! Who told you that?”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Do you think I’m pussy whipped?”
“When I’m the pu – the one with the whip? No, no I don’t,” Tara said. “Really.”
Willow scraped around her yoghurt pot a little more. Uncomfortable with the conclusion that she’d come to.
“You think you are! You really think you are!” Tara said
“I… Maybe a little. It’s not like it’s bad thing,” she said. “Until Anya – until someone put it that way, I’d not even thought about it. I was totally comfortable with us in every way. I still am. In fact, if this is what pussy whipped is, I’m all for it. I mean yay-pussy-whipping.”
Which, obviously, was the moment that Annie walked in and looked at them both. “Okay, girls. Spanking’s one thing,” their friend said. “I think we’ve all enjoyed a little light spanking. But… whips? And… there? Damn… You girls are kinky.”
“We’re not kinky,” Tara said.
“No, we’re not very kinky,” Willow clarified, just because she believed in being honest and Tara’s oldest college friend was the sort of person you could be honest with, she knew how to play along. “But that’s not what I mean. Annie, do you think I’m pussy whipped?”
“Do lesbians actually say that?” Annie asked.
“No!” Tara said. “We really don’t. At least this one doesn’t.”
Willow had to disagree though. “Yes – this one just did anyway. So… be honest, am I?”
“Well, my last boyfriend’s brother said that I was… I guess I was kind of in control of that whole relationship,” Annie said. “So I guess I know what it’s like to have the whip.”
“Am I?” Willow pressed.
“Oh yes.”
“Annie!”
“I’m sorry Tara, but… damn. This girl will do anything for you, not only that she does pretty much everything you say.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Okay, I don’t need to hear about that bedroom stuff, but out here, outside those doors. You’re so obviously calling the shots.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Tara objected. “I’m not in control. I’m really not.”
Annie nodded and Willow joined her.
“You’re not a bitch about it,” Annie said. “Or in any way dominant – that’s not what I’m saying and probably that’s what’s confusing you. It’s as much to do with Willow just going with your flow as it is about you – and I guess you probably have the right ideas.”
“That’s right, you have all the great ideas, baby,” Willow said. She hoped that it was comforting. Good judgement, better judgement. That was the key.
“I…” Tara almost looked like she was going to burst into tears which was the sort of look that just made Willow want to wrap her up in her arms and just hug it all away. “But I don’t want to pussy whip you. Or whip you at all!”
“You… you don’t. I mean, I’m pussy whipped. You’re not doing it. It’s all about me,” Willow said. “It’s not you.”
“But it must be.” Tara actually looked quite upset about this and she didn’t like that… at all.
“No… no. It’s just me,” she said.
“Listen to her, Tara,” Annie said, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder which Tara put hers on top of. “She knows what she’s talking about. If you hadn’t said it, I wouldn’t have called her that. And you know, she’s not the best with her words. Look, Willow… she just loves you so much and you just make so much sense, you know – common sense – that I don’t think she can help herself when she just does what you want because it’s the right thing to do.”
“That does sound better,” Tara said.
“Better than I thought of,” Willow agreed. “She’s right about my words, you know about my words. And you do – I don’t make any bad choices when I’m around you because you make sure to consider the options and we talk and - ”
“You do what I say?” Tara still didn’t sound happy.
“Mostly, but not because it’s what you say. Just because it’s – usually – the right thing to do. And it’s not like I sit around just waiting to be told, I have a mind of my own. One that loves you.”
Which helped, of course it did.
“I can’t tell you not to say this again, can I?” Tara asked.
“Of course you can - ”
“But if you agree, then it’s because… because you’re pussy whipped?”
“Oh, oh yeah.” That could be a problem... She almost thought she should say it again just to prove Tara right that she wasn’t except… that wouldn’t make her happy either. Kind of a quandary. Where was ‘what Tara wanted’ in this?
“You know though,” Annie said. “I think you girls are missing some of the point about all this.”
“Huh?”
“Well, usually when you say that – about a guy – it’s because he’s being stopped from doing what he wants, guy things, because there’s a woman in his life and he’s listening to her. I’m not sure… can a lesbian be pussy whipped?”
“I’m voting ‘no’,” Tara said right away.
“I will if you want me to.”
“Stop it!”
“I don’t pretend to know,” Annie said. “Not being one of the sisters.”
“We could fix that, hook you up with a nice girl…” Willow offered. “There are a few at the Wicca Group now that - ”
“Don’t tempt me,” Annie said. “After my last boyfriend I could almost try something else.”
Willow laughed because it was just so patently false.
“So?”
“So if there’s no pussy whipping,” Annie said. “Where’s the fun?”
Tara grinned and Willow wasn’t long after her.
“So… it doesn’t exist for lesbians?” Willow wondered.
“So the vote says,” Annie agreed. “Until you can find someone else to ask, I guess you must just be sub.”
“Sub?”
“Submissive…”
She looked at Tara, shaking her head. She wasn’t… was she? Maybe if Tara told her she was…
************************
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If I wanted a little pussy, I've got my own to play with.
Chance in *Chance*
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, good luck.
