Title of the story: Her Story • Author name : The Cursed And The Gifted • Feedback: Please! • Distribution: No one else yet • Spoilers: Totally AU so no Spoilers • Rating: PG 13 for now but that will probably change • Pairing: W/T obviously • Disclaimer: I do not own BTVS • Summary: Willow Rosenberg has had a long and hard life, but something changed when Tara Maclay came into that life. AU No Hellmouth or supernatural stuff!!
First came the banging, "Willow", a voice screamed, a voice that I could live the rest of my life without. "Willow, you open this fucking door now." She shrieked. I climbed out of bed, and started walking out of my bedroom groaning as she continued her assault on my front door. "Willow now!" "Shut up Sarah, I'm coming!" I called just before reaching the door. "It's too early for you to be flipping shit on my doorstep !" I said as her face came into view. She was pissed! "Where the hell have you been? You said you would call!" Well that's typical. Sarah was a slim brunet I had picked up at a local gay bar a few weeks back. Sarah was just one of the many weekend flings I've had, an annoying one, but one that was definitely good in the sack. She did this thing with her tongue- but that's not really important. "Well I didn't ask for your number, so that was your first clue that I wasn't going to call you!" God I can't put up with this shit before I have a coffee, no more bringing them here. "What the hell is wrong with you? I thought we had fun!" "I have fun with lots of people, I thought you got that message. I enjoyed our weekend, but it was nothing more than a weekend of fun." She was practically fuming. "Fuck you Willow!" She spat pointing a finger at me and started off down the hall. "You already did!" I said smugly to her retreating figure. "Bitch" she yelled back at me. I chuckled darkly to myself at the thought. She was gonna play me out to be the big bad, but I didn't lead her on by pretending to be nice, no she knew what she had gotten herself into before we left that bar. She just thought she could change me, they always did. I may be a bitch to these woman but I didn't play myself out to be anyone else. I closed my apartment door and turned around to find two very shocked blue eyes staring at me a few feet away. Tara, I had forgotten about her. There was a light blush gracing her cheeks, her hair slightly mussed in a way that was definitely adorable! I felt almost sick at the thought of what she had just heard, what she had just seen. I could feel my face turning to what I guessed was close to the shade of my hair. "Um-coffee?" My voice almost squeaked. Smooth Rosenberg! "S-s-sure" she struggled out after a slight moment of hesitation. I walking over to the coffee maker and started up a pot, feeling her eyes on me the whole time. "Black please" There was a long drug out moment of silence as I got the cheap Coffee maker ready. I could feel her eyes on me with every a movement. "Look, I'm really sorry about that. She probably woke you, she did didn't she? I invite you to stay on my couch and you get rudely awakened . I'm so sorry, I should have done something sooner, maybe been quieter in the hall. Well if that would have helped i don't know, because really these apartments have such thin walls, though not as bad as my last one, that was an awful place this one time I-" my babble trailed off as I turned around to see Tara looking at me with this cute little half smile. "Do you do that a lot?" She asked lightly "Only when I'm nervous." I admitted "And is that often?" "Not at all" I laughed and poured two mugs of coffee. "I really am sorry though." "It's fine Willow, you were nice enough to let me stay here last night. An unplanned morning visitor won't bother me any." "Are you always this understanding?" I asked walking over and handing her the mug. "Not on Tuesdays" I laughed. "Not unreasonable, they are practically a second Monday" looking into her eyes I found a comfort in the soft blue. "So I was thinking we could call the landlord around lunch time? Give him a chance to sleep in and hope to catch him in a good mood?" "Have you ever seen him in a good mood?" She sighed taking a sip of her drink. "I've seen a guy who looked like him and was in a good mood." "So no?" "No" She was laughing. When was the last time I made someone laugh without trying? When was the last time it felt this good? "So I would offer to make you breakfast, but the only time I step foot in the kitchen is for caffeinated beverages and to grab the takeout leftovers out of the fridge." "How about we starve till lunch and when the landlord opens my apartment I make something, as a thank you." "You don't have to do that, I can't intrude" "I don't mind, and something tells me you do a lot of intruding!" Is she teasing? She's talking about what she heard earlier right? About the whole 'I have fun with lots of people' thing? "Um, about that, it's not really what it sounds like. Well maybe it is, alright it is, but-" "Willow, you don't need to explain yourself to me. It's your life, I was just picking fun." "I'm not a good person Tara, I won't lie about that" it was about time I addressed the elephant in the room. The one Sarah had left to follow me into my apartment. "I don't buy it." "What?" More than a little shocked by her reaction "I said, 'I don't buy it', I've met a few woman like how your trying to pass yourself off as, your different" she turned around and waltzed herself into my living room crossing her legs under herself as she sat on the couch. I followed her and sat on the leather lazy boy beside the couch. "Evidence?" "One of those women, would have hit on me the moment they got me into their apartment. Probably tell me they don't mind sharing the bed with me. You however offered to let me stay on your couch, even made it up for me." Well if you want in my bed, your more than welcome. "Maybe your not my type" I suggested. "Am I your type?" "You mean gorgeous, quirky sense of humor, obvious smarts and a tad sassy, yes your my type!" "Conclusion, you my red headed hero, are not at all what you are making yourself out to be." "Alright no more me talk, tell me about you. What do you do?" "I'm a nurse, but I also sell art on the side. Mostly paintings." "Yeah, I can see it." I nodded my head at the idea. Then had to shake it lightly to get the image if her in a skimpy nurse outfit out of my head. Storing that away for later. "What about you?" "Huh?" oh shit, you ask her about her job and she's gonna ask you about yours! "What is it that you do?" Such an innocent question, with such deadly answers. What can I say 'I sell credit card scams and stolen secrets to random people,' yeah that would go well! " I um, sell computer software that I write and develop." Half truth, that's the legal part of it. "Mm, I figured, anyone with half a brain and a ten second look at this room would pin you as a cute computer geek!" She teased, hiding her grin as she brought the mug up to her lips. Mm lips- nope bad road! "That and the slight coffee addiction." I mumbled. "Slight? This room is covered in empty mugs and paper coffee cups!" She looked at me like I was crazy. "Alright you got me, I have an out of control addiction to the creamy goodness that is coffee, mostly chocolaty mocha’s!" She giggled at me. It was odd to talk to someone for so long when I wasn't trying to get into their pants. I couldn't remember the last time I had done so, and really I'm not even shore if those conversations lasted this long. There's something different about her. I don’t know what to call it, but she gave me this feeling, this burden that doesn’t feel like a burden at all. What am I doing? Whats happening to me?
“Come on I make a mean pancake!” We had sat and talked for another hour or so before calling the landlord and getting him to unlock her apartment. I followed her inside somewhat hesitantly, afraid of what I might be walking into. Her apartment was a brighter, cleaner version of my own. The kitchen looked well used, the living room comfortable from the view inside the kitchen. She had lots of books, old ones, neatly packed onto bookshelves through out the rooms from what I could see. There was paintings on the walls, colorful pieces of art that greatly contrasted the white walls around them. “Did you paint these?” I asked stepping to a painting that hung over her small table in the corner of her kitchen. It was the night sky, in a series of what appeared to be very delict paint strokes. The sky itself was something of an abstract image, colorful yet dark clouds bathed in the light of the moon in a gentle fashion. I may not be an art fanatic, but this painting was breath taking. “Yes” I could hear the slight nervous threat in her voice, but she didn’t stutter, and for a reason I couldn’t place that meant something to me. “This is amazing” I said refusing to take my eyes off the mounted image. “I painted it for my mother.” She sighed almost content, or maybe that sigh meant something else, I really couldn’t tell. “You didn't give it to her?” I asked unsure of why it mattered, but it did. It was important, I could just grasp that concept. “I never got the chance” Her voice came out strong and I had to look back at her to realize that she was hiding sadness. A loss that was so easily shown in her soft vulnerable eyes, the one place where she couldn’t hide her pain. It was obviously a touchy subject and I felt my curiosity burst out with questions that I had to suppress for my own sense of understanding of the pain I could bring her by asking the wrong question. I simply nodded my head. Keeping my eyes level with hers, not letting them go. I was hoping I could convey the respect I was trying to show her with one look. I must have been able to do so, because she smiled and sighed again, seemingly in relief. “Alright, funny shape or round pancakes?” she asked walking into her kitchen. “Funny shapes?” I followed her into the kitchen and parked myself on one of the stools she had sitting in front of her island. “I find they taste better, I know that they really don’t taste any different, but they seem too.” She started mixing ingredients into a bowl. "Alright, I will take your work for it. Funny shapes sounds good to me. Can I help somehow, I could do dishes or something?" "You wanna cut some fruit? Strawberries?" She moved toward the fridge and gathered some things from it. "Sure. I love strawberries." I said with a grin as she looked at me over her shoulder. There was mischief in her eyes. "Me too, they're my favorite color" I could feel myself blush at her implied comment. "Have a thing for red?" "More like a thing for red heads." She teased. "Why Miss. Maclay, that felt like a line. Are you hitting on me?" "Your a sexy red head sitting in my kitchen, expect to be hit on" "So your gay than? How long have you known?" She set the freshly washed strawberries in front of me along with a knife and two bowls. "Since I was 14, but I've only been out these last two years." "Six years of silence, long time." "It felt like it! What about you, how long have you known?" "Um, well, I think I always have. I tried to push myself to crush on my best friend Xander, and then in my graduating year I finally admitted it to myself. Came out a little over a year ago." "What's Xander like?" I started to slice the berries, hoping to distract myself a little from being to invested in the question. "He was a goof ball, he really knew how to make you feel better, mostly with stupid humor but it didn't matter. He wasn't very smart, but he tried and he did what he could." "Past tense?" "Huh?" "You talk about him in the past tense." "We haven't um, talked since we graduated. You know, you lose track of people after school, everyone moves on." I shrugged a bit as I sliced the top off another berry and placed it in the bowl I was using for the waste. I knew full well that I could get ahold of him if I wanted, but I couldn't bring myself to try. "I don't really know, I didn't have any friends in school, or well now." She let out a bitter chuckle. I had to stop cutting a strawberry to look up at her. She had her back to me. "You? But your so" hot, smart, artistic, witty, do I really need to explain? "I was shy in school " the sizzle of cooking batter filled the room. "What about now?" "I just haven't met the right kind of person yet." "I don't have friends either, I know lots of people sure, but I don't have any friends." "What your excuse?" Flipping the first few pancakes. "Maybe people just don't like me?" I offered. She turned around and gave me a look that told me to give her the real reason. "I just haven't made any." A little vague, but it will do. I finished slicing up the last of the straw berries and walked over to her sink to wash my hands and wash the knife. "You? A woman who takes strangers into her home hasn't picked up a few strays?" Tara giggled I turned around and leaned against the sink, drying my hands on a discarded hand towel. "Not officially, but ask me again later." There was a comfortable silence that greeted my words. "What do you want on your pancakes?" She asked as she loaded a plate full of the oddly shaped cakes. "Maple syrup?" "As you wish" she grabbed some plates, utensils and the maple syrup. "Something to drink?" "Water please" she nodded her head with a soft smile and poured two glasses, setting one in front of me. We ate and joked, acting goofy as we cleaned up. As I left, I felt full, real. You could say I was happy. Then she asked me, her tone so sweet, but holding deep meaning, "Have you picked up any strays?" I was standing at my apartment door and turned my head to the side to see her standing at her own, leaning there waiting. Who is this woman? "You tell me." "Yeah, I think you have."
_________________ Because of Buffy I can be reduced to a sobbing mess with only two words. But those words could also send me on a crazy rampage where I skin Joss Whedon alive and then flay his Body.
Last edited by thecursed&thegifted on Wed Jan 08, 2014 8:32 am, edited 1 time in total.
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