Leather, ice
and backrubs?!
You know, I never could refuse the Kittens. I'm a pushover, really. It's disgraceful. Oh well. Have some smut!
Alternatives
Chapter 8
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: All eps are now fair game.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but that which I create. All else belongs to people who can sue/excommunicate/execute me if I don’t write this.
Disclaimer #2: I am going to mess about with the ideas of religion in this fic, this is not intended to offend anyone, or contradict anyone’s beliefs, but it’s necessary for the story. I apologise in advance for any offence taken.
Summary: Tara back home
Feedback: Send all constructive comments to
rmmik@hotmail.com (please put something like “Re: your fic” in the subject, otherwise I’ll bin it). Send all abuse to someone else.
Authors note: I don’t like Season Six’s ending (obviously), so here’s my way of making things better. Eventually. After much angst. But hopefully you’ll like the W/T bits. The happy ones I mean. Hold on tight!
The first attack came from the side. Either the Slayer was losing her touch or her reflexes had improved a hell of a lot in, well, hell. Calmly watching the left hook headed for her face, she timed her response to the last possible instant. She easily dodged the blow. As the tightly closed fist missed her left temple by millimetres, she reflected it was probably the latter, as this fight was going at a snail’s pace compared to what she was used to. Keeping in close, she wove in and out of Buffy’s flailing fists, watching calmly and ignoring the obvious openings she was showing. There, a two millimetre gap between elbow and rib where a breakable bone could be manipulated with ease, there a slight tip to the head which would make it all too easy to end the fight with a simple snap of her neck. Finally she caught Buffy’s slow-moving hand, mid-punch, fluidly transferred her grip to her wrist, and gently pushed on a pressure point. The Slayer cried out and went down instantly.
Willow, Dawn and Xander watched in astonishment as the fight started. Buffy swung a fast left at Tara, and it seemed to pass right through her. Buffy faltered for a second, then unleashed a furious attack. Tara stood in place, whilst Buffy’s fists swung left and right, trying in vain to make contact. Suddenly her hand stopped in mid-air, movement flashed around it, too swift to be seen clearly, and suddenly Buffy was on the floor, panting, her wrist firmly locked in Tara’s grip. It had taken only seconds. Her eyes fixed on the Slayer, Tara changed the hold with a subtle wrist movement, forcing Buffy to rise and stand on shaky feet. Her absolute control and volatility was very intimidating, and Buffy found herself unwilling to look up, in case Tara’s striking features had changed to those of the creature that would kill her, however her gaze was drawn, almost magnetically, to the twin pools of clear azure that held no hatred, or hunger, simply control. Even her voice was measured, quiet and authoritative, with a tone that somehow combined warning, admonishment and understanding, and Buffy found herself listening intently, as though the simple words held deeper meaning than the finest ramblings of any and every philosopher ever known. Her words were to the point.
“I am not a demon, Buffy. Here.”
Her grip on Buffy’s wrist changed yet again, and Buffy felt her hand being lifted. Some perverse part of her wondered if Tara was going to bite her hand, but instead, her fingers touched a slender throat, where the strong pulsating of Tara’s blood confirmed that she was, indeed, alive.
“Don’t try to hurt me again. I am not a demon. I won’t hurt you. Nonetheless, you will need to invite me in.”
Instantly, Buffy’s hackles raised.
“Why?”
Tara thought about this for a second then began to speak.
“The fact that the barrier stopped me isn’t really a surprise. In fact, I’m surprised I didn’t think of it sooner. Think of it like this: imagine if you were a dog, and I were a chicken farmer. After a while I would smell like chickens all the time. Not many people would notice but a dog would. It’s like that with the barrier. It senses demon on me, all over me in fact, and takes it as a threat. Because of that, I need you to invite me in so I can have a shower to get the demon smell off me. And I don’t mean metaphorical chicken-demons”
“Or real ones.” Anya piped in.
“Right. Big no on chicken demons.” Tara grinned. Then she looked back at Buffy, releasing her wrist.
“I really hate it when people I trust try to tell me I’m a demon. I’m sorry. I almost lost my temper. If I hadn’t been just slow-dodging, I could have hurt you.”
Buffy gaped. If that was slow, what would she be like angry? Willow, apparently could read thoughts, because she spoke up.
“But Tara would never hurt us, right Tara? We’re family.”
Tara nodded, grinning again.
“So, can I come in, then?”
Buffy smiled cautiously, not sure if Tara was upset with her, which was the main reason she had refrained from commenting on the dog reference.
“Of course. Come in.”
They walked up to the threshold again, and this time no resistance was met as Tara walked forward, finally coming home.
***
Half an hour later they were sat around the table, several empty pizza boxes piled in the middle. They had talked about stupid things the whole time, carefully avoiding any topics that might be considered painful, like Tara’s absence, the contents of Kel’s video, or the whereabouts of Kel herself. Tara laughed at a story Xander was telling about one of the guys at work, and her eyes met Willow’s across the table. They had shared more than a few of these shy glances over dinner, and the separation was getting to her. Clearing her throat, she announced she was going for that shower, communicating her message to Willow through her eyes, which were intense with passion. Tara hadn’t seen her lover in decades, and she was desperate for some time alone, but not while she stank like hell. Literally.
Upstairs, she stripped off her clothes, leaving them where they lay in a heap on the floor, and climbed gracefully into the shower. Turning the water up full blast, as hot as she could stand it, she sighed blissfully as the layers of filth and sweat were sluiced away by the wonderful pressure. Grabbing the soap - oh how she had missed soap - she worked up a healthy lather and rubbed her face vigorously. Once it was clean and rinsed, she moved on to her neck and chest, scrubbing heartily. Within a few minutes she was clean all over, but lingered for a few moments, enjoying the feel of clean, hot water pounding on her back. It was as though all the memories and feelings of that
place were being drained away with the dirty water, leaving her only with a feeling of immense happiness
Thank the Goddess for power-showers, she thought, sending a quick prayer of thanks to any gods in the area. Finally she stepped out, relishing the way the cool air caressed her steaming skin, drawing goosebumps. The sensation reminded her that Willow was probably in the next room, waiting, so she brushed her teeth quickly, wrapped a towel round herself, grabbed her clothes and another towel and walked out, scrubbing her hair. She bumped into Xander, on the way out, who grinned apologetically, saying
“Sorry, needed the bathroom.”
Tara, remembering all those times doing the same whilst waiting for Buffy or Dawn in the shower, a lifetime ago, it seemed, shrugged in understanding
“Go ahead, I’m done.”
Xander smiled, brushing past Tara as she made her way down the hall to Willow’s room. She knocked gently on the door, and heard a soft, slightly slurred reply. Quickly slipping into the room, she caught sight of Willow and her breath caught in her throat. The redhead was curled up on the bed, watching her droopily. Her silky hair was in the first stages of becoming adorably tousled, and her leg had a mark left by the seam of her skirt, which had ridden up to her thigh, revealing a delicious amount of pale, freckled flesh. Tara was enraptured.
“Hey baby,” she whispered.
“Hey,” Willow responded, her voice thick with sleep. Tara studied her. There were very faint circles around her eyes, her face was ashen and slightly drawn, as though she hadn’t eaten or slept in the two days she had been gone.
She probably hasn’t, Tara mused. Willow was still watching her, but her eyelids were drooping for longer periods.
She needs sleep, Tara thought,
and she’s going to get some.Her decision made, although certain parts of her body were protesting, insisting that
Tara was going to ‘get some’, which she steadfastly ignored, she walked over to where Willow was sprawled on their bed and sat down.
Running her hand through Willow’s hair, Tara pressed a kiss to her forehead, relishing the contact and ignoring the part of her which was singing out for more.
“Go back to sleep, sweetie. I’ll stay with you.”
“Promise?” Willow’s voice was small, and scared.
“I promise.”
It broke Tara’s heart to see Willow like that, and silently swore that rampaging Bulshaki demons would not tear her away from her love when she was this vulnerable. Willow gave a small smile and snuggled into Tara’s hip, tugging on her towel. Tara took the hint and lay down, snuggling under the covers, dislodging the towel. She dropped it on the floor, gathered Willow into her arms and tucked her chin into Willow’s shoulder and held her as she drifted back to sleep.
Half an hour later, as Tara watched Willow sleep, she noticed a small frown cross her lover’s brow, followed by a whimper. She passed a hand over Willow’s forehead, her fingertips brushing Willow’s eyebrows, trying to comfort her troubled love. Willow sighed slightly, nestled into Tara’s bare chest and slept peacefully again, occasionally nuzzling her skin and sighing contentedly. A smile spread over Tara’s face as she watched Willow sleep. It amazed her that a face that was practically angelic when she was awake could be even more adorable when she slept. Perhaps it was the openness of her features, the way the cares that came from living on the hellmouth vanished, or perhaps it was the way the innocent smile gracing her features made her seem so young, like a child, content in the knowledge she was safe and loved. If Willow had started sucking her thumb, Tara wouldn’t have been in the least bit surprised.
They passed the night like this, Willow sleeping, Tara watching, occasionally smoothing her brow when unwanted thoughts or dreams caused her to frown or whimper. Twice Tara had shifted, eliciting a small mew of protest as Willow snuggled even further into her chest. The first time was an accident, but it was so adorable Tara did it once more, just to hear that noise again. At roughly three, Willow rolled over and snuggled down again, so that Tara was spooning her from behind. Tara was grateful as her arm had gone to sleep around two o’clock.
****
The following morning Buffy stuck her head round the door and saw Tara watching Willow. She smiled at the obvious love that filled the room and cleared her throat.
“Hey Buffy.” Tara said, without looking up.
“Breakfast is ready when Sleeping Beauty down there wakes up.” Buffy said, staring at her best friend fondly. She had never seen Will so relaxed or content. It warmed her tired soul to see these two together. Turning, she left, not wanting to disturb the moment.
Once Buffy had gone, Tara gently disentangled herself from her lover, producing a groan and a bleary-eyed glare from the small redhead, who was twisted in the sheets.
“Come on love, time to get up. Buffy made breakfast.”
“Mmm…whatimesit?” Came the jumbled reply. Tara looked at the clock.
“Around ten.”
Willow sat bolt upright.
“I’m gonna miss class!”
Tara grinned. Willow’s hair was adorably mussed as she rubbed her eyes furiously, scrambling out of bed and practically lunging past her to get the bathroom. She gently rested her hand on Willow’s stomach, stopping her at the doorway.
“Willow, sweetie, it’s Sunday. You don’t have class.”
“Oh.” Willow blushed furiously, which only made Tara grin even more.
“Come on then, my blushing beauty, let’s eat.”
“Um, Tara?”
“Yes?” She enquired sweetly.
“You might want to put something on,” Willow said, motioning to indicate her current state of undress.
“Oh,” now it was Tara’s turn to blush as she quickly put on a baggy shirt and some boxer shorts, then took Willow’s hand as they went downstairs.
In the kitchen the gang sat, assembled around the breakfast bar. On it sat toast, cereal, fruit, milk, juice and coffee and Tara smelled pancakes in the frying pan.
It’s good to be home, she thought for the umpteenth time, along with a prayer of thanks to whatever had brought her home.
Breakfast was eaten a lot slower than usual due to the banter between Giles and Xander about something silly like whether you could put American actors in Lord of the Flies, a discussion that was ended by Buffy saying that they would rent out both versions and decide then. Of course, Xander jumped at the chance for a ‘vid-fest’, which was only agreed to if he paid. After finishing the pancakes and polishing them off with her juice, Tara went up to get washed. Once back in her bedroom she considered putting on some more substantial clothing, then remembered the looks Willow had been giving her over breakfast, and decided against it. She heard her name being called from downstairs and stepped onto the half-landing.
“Hey Tara, wanna come to the vid shop?”
“Um, Xander, I’m wearing a shirt and a pair of boxers. The only place I’m going is the couch. Get something good, OK?” Tara replied.
“You know me,” Xander said with a wink.
“Exactly,” came the dry reply.
Once they had gone, Tara walked into the living room and calmly flopped down onto the couch. After a minute or so Willow came from the kitchen with two glasses of milk and curled up against her side, handing her a glass. They sat contentedly for a minute or so, until Willow shifted to get more comfortable. Tara reached down to kiss the top of her head just as Willow looked up to say something. Their lips met, and both girls froze, wide-eyed, like some fumbling teenage couple on their first date. Suddenly they both broke into uncontrollable fits of giggles at the absurdity of the situation, and just as suddenly they were kissing, tongues duelling in a battle neither girl wanted to end, legs tangling, hands sliding into silky hair, under clothes, over warm skin.
Somehow they had moved the glasses to safety, fallen off the sofa, climbed back on again and intensified their kissing without losing contact with each other’s lips.
God, I missed this so much, Tara thought, as the part of her body she had been fighting to control the previous night cheered in merry abandon.
Just as Willow’s hand slid down the flat, muscular plain of her stomach towards her boxers, someone cleared their throat loudly behind them. Willow squealed and fell off the couch again, dragging Tara down with her, Tara’s lightning reflexes catching her so they ended up with Willow on her back and Tara braced over her.. Tara looked over her shoulder at glared daggers at a very embarrassed Dawn , a mortified Slayer and Watcher and a bored Anya. Xander, however, was practically drooling.
“If you wanted us gone, you could have just said so,” Anya said practically.
“This is your house, you can have sex in it whenever you want. Although the bed would be more comfortable. You’d also have a lot more room”
Tara decided not to respond to that. Rolling over and standing up, she realised that Willow had somehow managed to start undoing the buttons on her shirt from the bottom up. Luckily she hadn’t gotten too far so Tara wasn’t exposing anything but her midriff, but that was enough to make her glare even more at Xander, who immediately took the hint and dropped his gaze to his toes.
“Err…yes, well…that is…we should, um…” Giles stammered, looking very embarrassed that he had caught his surrogate daughters in the throes of passion. He fumbled for something to say, until Tara came to his rescue.
“So, did you get any good videos? Or did Xander choose?”
Xander’s head snapped up, and she smiled sweetly, then grinned to let him know she was kidding.
“Although,” Tara continued, “from what she told me, this should be nothing compared to what Kel used to get up to.”
The mention of the former angel sent a frown across Giles’ face, but it was quickly replaced by a smile.
“You’re right. In any case, lets get to those videos.”
Tara nodded her assent, and the gang settled down. During the credits she thought about the flash of chrome that seemed to appear behind Giles when she mentioned Kel, but dismissed it, becoming engrossed in the film.
Several hours later as dusk fell like a warm blanket over the town of Sunnydale, two of the world’s destined Light warriors came to an agreement, witnessed by the most powerful supernatural forces in the service of Good.
“Okay, Giles, you win. It was better when they weren’t boy scouts.” Xander acquitted.
“Thank you. I always said the book was better. Much more subtle use of the macrocosm of society at war represented by the microcosm of the boys’ struggle.”
“Um..yeah. I just meant the British version was better.”
Tara was getting
very bored of Lord of The Flies, a book she had studied extensively in school and now seen three versions of on screen. So she hatched a plan.
“Oh damn!” She exclaimed. The Scoobs turned towards her.
“What is it, sweetie?” Willow asked, concerned.
“I meant to bring my stuff over today. Tell you what, why don’t Will and I go over now, sort it all out and then bring it over in the morning?”
If this didn’t work she was going to use Kel’s strategy; let her libido talk for her. Giles looked reluctant so she jumped in.
“Giles, I should warn you, I don’t actually plan to do anything other than make love to Willow tonight no matter what, so if you try and stop us going, I don’t know how long I can control myself before I end up jumping Willow like a bitch in heat anyway, so unless you all want to be up all night listening to her screaming, I suggest someone gets our coats.”
Oh yeah! She shoots, she scores! Kel would be proud!Anya grinned and nodded her approval. Everyone else gaped. Willow looked as if she couldn’t decide whether to be mortified, aroused or offended, and was struggling to keep a straight face either way. Eventually Tara started tapping her foot and looked pointedly from Giles to Willow and back again, baring her teeth in an expression far too primal to be called a smile. Giles gulped.
Finally Dawn jumped up and grabbed their coats. Tara rose fluidly, taking an astonished Willow with her, and swept towards the door. Just before they left, the gang caught sight of Willow’s expression. It had changed, becoming almost as feral as Tara’s. She licked her lips as she stared at her lover, and then they both rushed out of the door, leaving a very dumbfounded group in their wake.
“So,” Anya said, “Who’s for pizza?”
****
They arrived at Tara’s dorm 15 minutes later, and Tara quickly unlocked the door, guided Willow inside and locked it once more, sighing.
“I really should actually get some packing-oomph!” Tara started to say, only to find herself slammed against the door by a very impatient Willow.
“Tara Maclay, if you think you can say things like that to our friends, then stroke my leg like that on the bus, and get away with talking about
packing, you will be in some serious trouble later.” She husked.
Tara chuckled low in her throat.
“If you say so, my love.”
Willow growled softly, which only made Tara smile more.
“Sooo… how much trouble am I in? I mean, you aren’t gonna make me sleep on the floor or anything, are ya?”
This, apparently, was more Willow could stand. Any further comments were cut off by the searing kiss she delivered to the grinning lips in front of her. Before she knew what was happening, Tara was responding, spinning and slamming Willow against the door as gently as possible considering the rioting hormones in her gut. Forcing a hand between their amalgamated bodies, Tara pulled off Willow’s shirt with such force that she heard buttons pop.
Oh well,she thought cheerfully. Then all coherent thought disappeared as Willow’s hands reached her waistband. She expected to lose her jeans, and sure enough, there went the zipper, but instead of ridding her of these tiresome clothes, Willow instead just went straight to the heart of the matter. Whilst Tara’s hands were busy on their own task of getting under Willow’s bra, the rest of her body was entirely focussed on the way Willow was oh-so-gently teasing her heated flesh through her panties.
You get what you give, I guess. Karma’s a bitch. Her hands, however, demanded attention, having achieved their objectives; conquered the Evil Bra and reached the treasures within. Tara silently told them to play quietly for a while, as she was busy and would have to get back to them. Her senses were overloading with contrasting information. The assault on her mouth was quite astonishing in it’s raw passion, although Tara’s response was equal in intensity. Her hand, however, was so gentle and teasing she was being driven mad.
I WANT MORE! She thought, and could almost hear her body replying ‘Yes Ma’am!’ as she got as close to her lover as was physically possible without getting inside her skin. Willow, however, refused to take the hint, keeping her touches light and teasing. One of her hands decided to take the matter into, well, itself, and slid down from it’s position fondling Willow’s left breast to her trousers. Tara decided right then she hated fastened clothes. And opaque ones. Just clothes altogether had to go. This sounded like a wonderful idea and soon Willow was standing next to a ripped pool of fabric that was once two pairs of jeans, a shirt and both their underwear. This achievement seemed to provoke Willow into action, and her hand slipped under the fabric covering her most intimate - and impatient – part.
“Oh God,” Tara hissed as she felt Willow’s cool hands on her superheated flesh, slipping inside, seeking out the sensitive points inside her body in a rhythmic to-and-fro motion that Tara found herself responding to instinctively. The pressure was wonderful, she could feel her energies building, adrenaline pumping, heart racing. Without realising it she had started mimicking Willow’s actions, the feel of slick heat on her skin adding to her passions as she made love to Willow and Willow made love to her. Tara’s breathing was ragged, her heart was pounding against her ribs, as if it wanted to burst out of her chest and envelope Willow in love forever. The age-old rhythm of point-counterpoint sent a dull roar of passion pounding through her head. The heady sensations rushing through her body finally localised, sending bolts of hot energy to ravage her synapses and fry her nervous system. She felt Willow reach the crest of her own passion and kissed her tenderly, drinking in the cries of ecstasy her lover gave, savouring each one as a precious gift. Finally Willow slumped, resting her head on Tara’s sweaty shoulder, and sighed deeply.
“Mmmm..love you.” The minute the words were out of Willow’s mouth, Tara felt the beast within her stir again, roaring it’s devotion to it’s chosen mate, and it’s determination to demonstrate it. Within seconds the girls were kissing again.
“Bed…now.” Tara managed to mumble, pulling Willow away from the doorframe and falling into bed. Tara managed one last tease;
“So flustered, my dear. What will you be like when I really get going, I wonder?”
Several hours later, as the first fingers of dawn reached across the sky, the two girls finally slept, the smiles on their faces leaving no room for question that they were in love, and planned to stay that way.
Ruth.
----------
TARA:
I know exactly what they see in me.
A happy and sweet lesbian who’s never hurt anyone and has enabled you to find some truth and peace in your life at last, never mind the great sex we’re obviously having…realization dawns on her…aaah, right. Yeah. I have to die. Clearly. - Once More With Bitterness
by barnabasvamp » Mon Sep 30, 2002 6:26 pm 
Update AND Smut coming 
and we haven't heard a word 
for that one! 
So we are gettin some lovely W/T smut, right Ruth? 
You cannot possibly turn down Ashley's offer!!
mwa ha ha ha haaaaa....