Title of the story: Her Story
• Author name : The Cursed And The Gifted
• Feedback: if you want any that is.
• Distribution: No one else yet
• Spoilers: Totally AU so no Spooilers
• 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!!

What can I tell you about Willow Rosenberg? There's not a lot to tell, at least nothing you would want to hear. But there's this one thing that you may be interested in. That blond who walked into her life and gave her a purpose. I'm Willow, but this is a story about Tara Maclay, the person who gave me hope again. In order for you to get the full story though, I have to tell you all the boring details of my life.

I was that geek in school, you know the one. I was so lame, and no one would let me forget it. I was the whole deal, nerdy clothes, almost no friends, hell I even taught a computer class without pay for a whole semester when the teacher suddenly disappeared.

People spent almost every second they had tormenting me or using me. When they weren't calling me the vast amount of oh so pleasant names they had for me, they were dropping off their homework and begging me to do it. I always would too, no questions asked I would just take the work and sit at home doing it. I can't explain why I did it, maybe I hoped they would stop picking on me or maybe even like me. Though that never happened and deep down I knew it never would, but I had to hope, it was all I had.

My parents weren't much help either. They were never home, always traveling to an endless amount of places, mailing me money every once in awhile. My mom was and probably still is an "expert" in child behavior. While my dad focuses on the development of the brain and the situations in which it is impaired. I knew they loved me, or at least what they saw about me, but they were never around to really notice me. And, how much can you really love someone you can't even bring yourself to spend more than five minutes with? But you don't want to hear about my parents, I'm sorry.

All I had going for me was Xander Harris, he was my best and really only friend for the longest time. There had been Buffy, but she was nothing more than a passing leaf in my life. I was trouble for Xander, being my friend only made him the victim of ridicule. All I could give him was a place to go when his parents were too drunk for him to ignore them. That and I could help him with his homework, old reliable me and my brain. He left the first chance he got. A day after we graduated high school he was gone, off on a road trip to find himself. He called, but I never answered, he's better off now.

I could have gone too any school I wanted. I'm what people call a genius I guess. But I was on a destructive path. One that made me leave the only home I had ever known, not that I had anything keeping me there. I packed up my laptop and drove out of Sunny dale California for what I hoped to be forever. I had a
Loaded bank account with more than enough money to pay for a simple life for the next twenty years even if I didn't find a job. I barely dented it when I bought a decent apartment in the less gummy area of LA.

I changed myself completely, my clothes, my hair, attitude. I don't know what happened, but I wasn't the meek polite geek from California. No, I made people shrink under a simple glare, ran credit card frauds and worked as an anonymous code writer and software developer. I could even talk a girl to my apartment like it was my night job, one good thing I learned from watching Buffy.

But that's not how I met her. I met Tara Maclay the night I finally learned that everybody has demons.

There was the running, you hear it every once in a while here in an LA apartment building but this was different. It was more than that, or it felt like it was. "Shit" a voice called, followed by the hard banging of what I guessed to be fists on the hard wood of a door. I was tired, falling from a major caffeine high and sporting a headache that could impair a child. It's my guess that's why I stood up and walked to that door, just to stop the noise but sometimes I wonder.

I had seen people distressed before and simply couldn't bring myself to care, but the blue eyes belonging to the figure just three doors down bore a sadness that I had never witnessed. She was a tall gorgeous blond, and when I saw gorgeous I mean abosuolutly beautiful, even in the state she was in. There were tear tracks running down her pale face, mud all over her jeans, possibly from running through the streets I guessed from the way she was panting. She was trying to hide behind a hoodie, but it wasn't hard to see her features. When her voice left her it came in a stuttered mess of her soft but, distressed tone "I-I c-c-can't fi-find my k-key".

Maybe I loved her the moment I saw her, maybe that's what brought back my humanity, what made me want to help her. I don't even remember thinking about it, I just remember saying "You can hide in my apartment" without even knowing what or who exactly she was hiding from. I invited this woman into my home without the slightest of wrong intentions or personal gain. But I certainly don't regret it.

She looked like she may protest, but the hesitation disappeared as soon as she heard the sound of two sets of heavy steps from below. She ran straight to me and I closed the door immediately after her, locking it.

Soon they flew passed my door. Not caring to slow at all, they were on the hunt after all.

When I turned away from the door I found the woman staring at me, a flood of emotions covering her face, ones that I was yet to be able to place. "t-tha-thank y-you" she forced out, relief evident to me even with my reservations of basic people.

"No worries, what else are neighbors for other than inviting them into their incredibly messy homes at ungodly hours of the night when they are locked out." That was different, I had barley said that much to anyone since coming to LA a year ago.

The woman let out a cute half smile and stated to wipe away the tears from her face. What shocked me, was when she spoke, she didn't stutter at all "And here I thought we were supposed to ignore each other and sneak cats into the building". She joked.

"Well that weird guy upstairs does have a weasel, well I think that's what it is, I only saw it the once, when he was casing it and calling 'Edmund' after it, who would name a weasel Edmund anyway? It's so boring and so not weaselly at all." That's the first time I'd babbled in more than two years.

"Well it could be an ironic play off the character from the Narnia books, because Edmund was a weasel." She challenged me casually. As if we had talked to each other a hundred times before.

"I never thought of that, that's a good point." I stared at her for a few moments, and she just looked back at me, sizing me up. I stuck out my hand, "Willow Rosenberg, heroic neighbor".

She took my hand without hesitation and my skin burned at the slight touch. "Tara Maclay, distressed neighbor" the sideways smirk reappeared on her face and I could have sworn my heart flouted at the site.

"So if you want I could make up the couch or we could call the landlord, but he's kind of an-"

"Ass?" she finished my sentence for me before I got the chance. "If you don't mind that couch sounds great right about now?" Her eyebrows lifted in a questioning glance.

"Sure, if you don't mind the mess"

"I think I can survive, it's a lot better than the hall!" She said as I walked past her into the living room that almost every flat surface was covered in empty coffee cups and computer parts. I grabbed a runaway pillow and blanket setting them up on the couch.

"Well I really don't think the hall is much of an option for you" I said referring to the guys who I guessed were still searching the building for her. She was silent and I looked over my shoulder to make sure I hadn't offended her. She was leaning against the door frame studying me, almost waiting for something. I picked up my laptop and started towards my bedroom, "well night!"

Just as I walked past her she reached out and lightly touched my arm, capturing my whole attention as I tuned my eyes to hers. "You're not even going to ask?"

"I trust you" I simply stated as if it was the most natural feeling to trust a stranger.

"But you don't know me, I could be someone danger-"

"I trust you" it was odd, but I knew I did, trust her I mean. I think it was her eyes, maybe they are the reason I was blind to the basic understanding of 'stranger danger'.

"Thank you Willow" My name on her lips, was the greatest sound I had ever heard.

That night, I slept without nightmares for the first time in forever. It was a start, the start of my story of Tara Maclay and the amazing things she would do.

_________________
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.

Yay! A new fic!

Keep'em coming, you just made my day!

Thanks!

-s

_________________

Great start to a new story
You definitely have my interest.

Great start!! I look forward to reading more!!

_________________
~ Branny72
I found younger-me still exists in the archives as SlayerTazz...
Mending Fences | The One Where Everyone Has a Go |Actions and Consequences | Meant To Be

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.

Awww, I love this new fic!

Oh, and DIBS! Ha!

But really, I love this. A refreshing POV, interesting setting and storyline, so far, at least.

Keep writing, I'll keep reading, and waiting for updates!

Yf, -s

_________________

Title of the story: Her Story
• Author name : The Cursed And The Gifted
• Feedback: Please!
• Distribution: No one else yet. I'm looking for a beta.
• 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!!


“Hey Tara, Emily’s here if you want to head home.”I heard my coworker Beck say from behind me.
“Th-Thanks Beck" I called out to the woman. she mumbled a “no problem" and left me to finish up my paper work. It had been a long hard day. Holidays always were on the Paediatrics ward, mostly because of all the visiting families. Most people found it difficult to work holidays, but it gave me something to do, its not like I had any other plans. It was hard to watch people suffer through such tough times but still attempt to be excited about the date for the children. A fair amount of the nurses here were missing out on their own traditions to be here, it was sad really.
I gathered up my things and wished the other nurses luck on the night. Only to be stopped by Beck to hand me a plate of leftovers from our potluck, as she insisted that everyone else was way too sick of turkey. I just thanked her again and started walking towards my apartment.
The night was chilly and surprisingly dark since it being only 8pm. I felt my body tense into itself as if it was grasping hold of its natural heat to protect it from the cold air. I tipped my head back wishing I could see the stars, but the city’s false light prevented them from shining through. As a child I had always loved the night sky, but now, living here I found myself often wondering if it was just a childhood dream of something bigger and now I wouldn’t find the same pleasure. I missed that childhood wonder I had once had. after all it was all I had had.
My mind drifted, as minds often do. It was becoming a regular thing to find myself thinking about Willow Rosenberg. Her short blazing hair that looked as soft as silk and had a faint lingering sent of strawberry. Her bright, vibrant green eyes that always seemed to shine. She was beautiful. Everything about her made me want to reach into my mind an savor the image of her smile forever. I couldn’t stop thinking of her fair and flawless skin, the way it called and begged to be touched. But there was something more to her beauty than her looks, there was her babble that I don’t doubt I would listen to all day if I wasn’t worried about her breathing. There was her consideration, though she seemed to try and hide it best she could. Willow was amazing and she was driving me crazy.
I knew she was hiding a great deal of things from me, but to be fair she wasn’t alone in that subject and really she didn't need to tell me, we really were strangers at this point. Willow seemed to have almost perfected her act. The walls she had built around herself were apparent to anyone who took the time to look really, but it seemed like no one had. In the short period of time I had been with her I gathered that she closed herself off from serious relationships, exploiting her good looks to get cheap thrills. That struck me as odd, because she didn’t seem the type at all. she was obviously suppressing an outstanding intellect. Her eyes gave her away in that fact, the way they moved over everything at once. Then her job, I didn't know anything about computers but I knew what she did was not only complex, but also tedious.
Her job was another thing I didn’t understand, there was something more to it. There had been panic evident the moment I had asked what it was she did. Her face paled and body tensed as she hesitated answering. It had occurred to me she may be embarrassed, but that wasn't right. No, there was more to that story.
There was more to Willow in general. Like why I had never met her before now, or why she treated me the way she did. There was also the girls.
Maybe she's lonely.
I'm lonely.
All I have is work. patients and coworkers. People who I'm forced to be civil with. But I kept to myself around my coworkers, opening up slightly more with my patients. Willow already knew more than they ever will.
Probably more than it was safe to. Ive been so careful for so long, you’d figure it would be easy to block myself off from Willow, but this was different. Woman have came into my life before, but I had always been able to brush off the advances in getting to know them. This time, I was the one advancing. Willow was the one brushing me off, but she only did it for certain subjects. Her job, her “activities” and Xander.
I arrived at my apartment and stood in the hall a moment, staring at Willows door. I wasn’t even sure what it was I wanted from Willow. Friendship? Hot sex?A relationship? All of that? In that order? I really couldn’t tell you.
I sighed, finally setting my thoughts aside. I needed to shower and change out of these grimy scrubs into something more comfortable.

_________________
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.

"Willow, do you ever get lonely?" Buffy asked me. I looked up from our math books. She needed help again, she wouldn't tell anyone, but she tried so hard to understand her school work. But she could never quite grasp it. Today though, she seemed lost in thought.
"No, I'm not alone. I have you and Xander." Is what I said, however, it wasn't the truth. I was always lonely. They are all I have, but they don't feel like enough. Some how that sounded selfish, I was lucky to have them, and I loved them dearly, but I needed more.
"Yeah but what about in this house? Your parents haven't been home in two months. And even then they hadn't been here long before leaving you alone again. You don't deserve that." Maybe I do.
"They are busy I get tha-"
"To busy for their own daughter" she interrupted me, irritation slipping into her voice. Why was she so angry all of a sudden?
"Buffy they-"
"Don't make excuses for them Will." She jumped up from the couch and stood over in me. There were slight tears in her eyes. Buffy, wasn't the type of person you saw cry, she was stone cold when it came to this kind of thing. She refused to be seen as weak by anyone.
"Buffy what's wrong?"
"Your in pain, you won't admit it but I can tell. I want to help but you won't let me and now I'm out of time."
"Buffy I'm fine". I stood up and faced her, watching the tears she held finally start to flow "What do you mean your out of time?"
"Your not fine" she brought her hand to cover her mouth, holding down a sob.
"Buffy! What do you mean your out of time?"
***
"Another beer red?", the bartender asked. the bar was surprisingly empty for a night like tonight. Normally every corner would be filled with some lonely schmuck with nothing better to do.
"No, I think I'm gonna head out" I grabbed my leather jacket and left a generous tip
"Happy thanks giving" he called out as I walked out the door.
"Yeah" I mumbled. It was a short walk to my apartment, Not even a full two blocks away. I always wondered what the hype of thanksgiving was, I had never had the traditional dinner and family time. Xander would come over with bruises on his face, we would order a pizza and pretend nothing was wrong.
Now, I simply ordered a pizza and watched old re runs on TV, alone. That was thanksgiving to me. I could never find anything I was truly thankful for anymore. It was a day of reflection.
I stopped as I walked by her door. It had been just three nights ago that I had invited Tara Maclay into my home. I hadn't seen her since I left her standing in that hallway.

”Have you picked up any strays?"
”You tell me."
“Yeah, I think you have."

Ever since than. She had constantly managed to find her way into my thoughts. Already more than a few times I've caught myself lost in the thought of her blue eyes. There was something about Tara that made her a permanent ornament in my mind. I couldn't place it but she interested me on a level no one had.
I wonder what she's doing tonight. Having dinner with her family probably. Or maybe she's working, having her own little celebration with her coworkers. They must really love her.

I suppressed the urge to knock and find out if she was home and walked into my own apartment, leaving her door behind me. I shouldn't be involved with her. People are only temporary, she isn't any exception.
***
"I'm leaving, Will." It hit me like a wave. Buffy is leaving. One of the only two people I thought I could count on was leaving me. I would go to school everyday, listen to the taunts and cruel words, with only Xander standing in my corner. Buffys house had become an escape from this empty house, I couldn’t spend nights at Xander’s nor would he want me to, he didn’t even want to be there.
"What? Why?"
"We're moving and Mom won't tell me why. she just came home from work and told me and Dawn were leaving. " I had looked up to Ms. Summers in the short time I had known her, and in a way she felt like a mother to me.
"When?" I tried to be strong as the word left me, but her answer terrified me. I was never a lucky person.
"Tomorrow.” the air flew from my lungs, “She just keeps telling me its important, I don't understand. I was so worried about her, all the headaches, she's just been so stressed and now this."
"You've only been here for eight months!" I shook my head. She's leaving me, another person is leaving me.
"I don't want to go." Her voice cracked and a sob broke from her throat. I wrapped my arms around her as her body shock. "Oh god I don't want to go." There were to many people in this world who thought they knew Buffy Summers, that truly didn’t. This sixteen year old girl carried around so much pain from her parents divorce, from being judged by all her authority figures. People seemed to forget that she was just a sixteen year old girl fighting her way to the surface.
Holding this girl who I may never see after tomorrow. I thought of how people came and went every day. My parents were constantly walking out my front door, Buffys father had walked out hers and never returned to his wife and two children. Now Ms. Summers was leaving and taking Buffy from me. I realized in that moment, something I knew I would remind myself of for the rest of my life. People are only temporary.
****
A knock on my apartment door came and I grabbed the money I had laid out on the counter for the pizza. Grumbling as I walked to the door. They were always so late on holidays. I undid the dead bolt and opened the door, seeing a flash of blond before I became fully alert.
No
The blond standing in front of me was not the one I had hoped, in fact I dreaded this blond. She wasn’t delivering pizza either. No, this small woman with big brown eyes and long golden hair wasn’t even a past one night stand. She was a past though.
“Your a hard woman to find, Willow.” She smiled lightly. looking me up and down. I almost wanted to be self conscious in my plaid blue pajamas and black tank, but I couldn’t bring myself to stress about it. How did she find me? Why was she looking? “What Rosenberg? No hug for an old friend?”
“How?” the word came out as it would have when I was a teenager, weakly. It as all I could bring myself to say. no,no this can’t be happening, not now!
“Lets talk about this inside” She pushed passed me, the smile still on her lips. Well shes still as polite as she used to be. I shut the door and watched as she looked around. “I guess your not such a neat freak anymore” She was dressed in Worn dark jeans and a black wool coat that stop mid thigh. I stopped to take in the height and maturity her body had seemed to develop over the years, I couldn’t see her face, but from the rest of her I noted that age seemed to have been good to her. “Buffy, why are you here?” I could hear the change in my voice, it was back to the cold and confident tone I was so prone to using these days. Not like how I once was.
“Xander needed me to find you.” Oh god.
“Is he alright?” I kept my tone calm as to stiffen my fears that I was reluctant to face.
“He’s great, if you ignore how unbelievable worried he’s been about you! I can’t believe it took him so long to ask me to look for you.” She turned around and glared at me, obviously pissed.
“And why didn’t he look himself”
“Well he figured and FBI agent would find you better than a construction worker.” Oh shit! no, fuck no! that's the last thing I need in my apartment!
“Well you found me, so you can leave now!”
“Oh no Rosenberg, we have shit to discus!” Her anger was starting to be seep into her voice. “How could you do this to him? He loves you and you just drop off the face of the earth, he had no way of knowing if you dead or alive. If it wasn’t for that cheap note you left your parents he might have thought you were kidnapped!”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you, I don’t need to explain myself to anyone!”
“What happened to you?” Her voice dropped, mimicking disbelief
“I grew up.” My voice was flat and my eyes threatening.
There was another knock on my door. Well, there’s that pizza. I turned and opened the door, ready to give whoever was on the other side a piece of my mind about exactly how long it takes to deliver one measly pizza.
But it wasn’t the pizza delivery guy at my door. next time im ordering from some wheres else.
Standing outside my door was Tara, holding a plate of what I guessed to be leftovers. “Hey Willow, you said you couldn’t cook so I thought I would drop you off some thanksgiving leftovers” I calmed almost instantly at the sound of her voice. She wore a sweet smile on her face, along with a green baggy knit sweater combo-ed with jeans. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun but it suited her.
“Hey Tara, thank you, thats very sweet of you.” I heard it, the change in my tone was drastic, calm and collected. I felt the air around me change, I had forgotten for a split second about Buffy, who I now felt looming beside me. I took the plate from Tara hoping that the other blond would remain silent, but had no such luck.
“Hello there, Im Buffy” She stuck out her hand to Tara
“T-Ta-Tara” She stuttered out taking Buffy’s hand and giving it a small shake before dropping it. “S-Sorry Willow, I didn’t know you had company.” I could tell she was fighting to keep her speech under control.
“Don’t worry Tara, your the only welcome guest here!” Turning my head to look at Buffy.
“I gave up my Thanksgiving dinner, with my family, to come out here and talk to you for Xander!” She snapped at me. “If you came with me, you might have a family to!”
”Well you talked to me.” I let out a sigh and continued “Get out Buffy, leave and don’t come back.”
“Willow, you have to hear me out.” No, I really don’t. I can’t do this again.
“Just go.”
Buffy grumbled and then pushed passed Tara and started down the hallway. She stopped all of a sudden and just stood there for a moment, before turning around and walking back. she stood facing me, “I was wrong, what I said that night.”
“What?”
“The last time we spoke, I said ‘I'm out of time’, I was wrong. Im not giving up. I will be back” I stared at her in silence. “Nice meeting you Tara”
“Likewise”
“Look after her for me?” Her brown eyes never left mine, not once.
“Sure”
Buffy finally looked away and started walking back down the hall. muttering a “thanks” to Tara as she went.
We stood silent in the hall for a moment. I didn’t know what to say to her, how to explain what had just happened to her. I had a million worries going through my head, most of which surrounded Taras views on my exchange with Buffy, but some of them were with Buffy and Xander.
Buffy has a family. Does Xander have one? did I really expect him not to? I mean Xander was a caring guy of course someone would recognize that. he was an amazing catch, but it never occurred to me that he would be growing up.
Buffy and Xander talk. They talk about me. How long have they been talking? 'I can’t believe it took him so long to ask me to look for you’. So they have been talking for a while than. Since he left?
“So” Tara started. I turned to look at her, her face held a soft but amused smile, one that warmed my heart and made my mind calm its assault. “Is being yelled at on you doorstep a regular thing with you, or do I just walk in on all the entertaining stuff?” She teased, trying to lighten the mood and make me smile, succeeding.

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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.

Wow.
Every time I read an update, I'm loving this story a little more.
Please keep them coming. I can't wait to read the next.

Yeah! Keep'em coming, I love this!

The changing POV's are interesting. I love the effect the girls have on each other.

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Nice update. Enjoying the premise.

One suggestion would be about the formatting. Make sure the breaks are there, it's a bit hard to read all crammed together.

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Heather aka vampyregurl73 aka Riverwillows73

My stories:
"Dry Heat – In Progress (still)" "Penny Arcade - Completed"

My Fic Challenge entries:
"Fireworks" "Promise" "I Did What Last Night?"

Title of the story: Her Story
• Author name : The Cursed And The Gifted
• Feedback: Please!
• 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!



"You just seem to walk in on all the entertaining stuff." I laughed feeling the tension leave my joints finally. "I was gonna watch reruns on Netflix, wanna join me?"

"Sure" she slipped past me, brushing her arm lightly against mine. I followed her as she lead the way towards my living room. Setting the plate of leftovers on the counter as I moved past it. She settled down on my couch, her legs crossed under her.


I sat beside her on the other end of the couch. "Hope you like house!" I said as I picked up the remote and started Netflix.


"Well, if we are talking about the episodes with Olivia Wilde, then yes." She grinned.


"Of course we are! I'm not a complete monster" I shot back at her with my best smirk.


"Forgive me for being skeptical."


"I suppose it's smart not to trust a woman who's been yelled at each time your been with her." I observed lightly as I searched for house in my recently watched titles.


"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of never trusting redheads. I hear some crazy stuff about them." I didn't turn to look at her but I could tell from her voice she was making a smug expression.


"You heard right, we redheads are crazy in the sack."


"Touché my smart friend" she giggled "Yet your all alone on thanksgiving"


"I'm not alone, I have your riveting self to keep me company!"


"Oh yes I really am quite the joy to be around." Her tone became less playful and when she spoke again, she sounded caring in the lightest of ways. "But I'm not family."


"Neither am I" I challenged, ignoring the on going dialogue doctor house was spouting at his team.


"No, but I don't have a family to celebrate with." She said without shame. "Sounds to me, like your choosing not to have one."


I was silent. Most of the time I could possibly have come up with a lie. Say something vague that would stop all questions. Hell, most I the time I could be straight out rude, but not to Tara.


"I'm going to figure you out Willow. You don't have to tell me anything now, or even in the future. But your stuck with me." With that She grabbed the blanket on the back of my couch and snuggled up to me, draping it over us as we watched tv.

-----------

Weeks went by and me and Tara would spend time together almost Daily. With the exceptions if her working a long day at work.
I went out less, choosing Tara's company over sex with strangers.


We went to movies, she taught me how to Cook a few simple dishes in the kitchen. I brought her coffee to work and we went out to lunch on her lunch hours.


I hadn't learned much about Tara's past. She didn't have much to say on the topics of very general things like where she was from, if she had siblings or if she even had any pets. A few times she had let things slip without even thinking about it. Things like how her family had been highly religious, and how they had lived on a farm.


I knew a far amount about her life now though. I knew how she wanted to get a cat, how she loved her job and helping others. But how she loved to paint even more than anything and would give up her job in a heart beat to pursue the life of an artist. I knew how she missed her mother though I knew nothing about the woman other than how Tara had idolized the woman.
Tara was so brave and strong, yet caring and gentle. I could see how inquisitive she appeared sometimes and how she never seemed to be frustrated.


I knew she was studying my every move and word, memorizing my every impulse as waiting for me to slip up and give her the information she needed. One day however, she choose to go with a more blunt approach. "So was Buffy a friend?" She said one day out of the blue while we sat in our favorite cafe.


I stopped fiddling with the stirring stick in my mocha and looked at her. "Buffy hasn't been my friend since I was sixteen" I mumbled as I sipped the warm liquid.


"What happened?" She requested softly but with a pleasant tone.


"Nothing, she just moved away." My shoulders shrugged.


"It seemed like you were mad at her when she stopped by your apartment." I could tell she was testing the water, trying to see how far she could push me before I shut down.


"She wants me to be able to explain some stuff to her, that I can't even explain to myself."
"She seemed to really care about you." she added with a shrug hoping to tug more information and cooperation out of me.


"She cares about the kid I was but I've changed." I tried to hide the tremble in my voice by taking a long drink of my Mocha. Though I felt her eyes on me, almost screaming that she had heard it.


"Maybe, but don't you think she deserves the chance to decide that for herself?" Tara asked me before taking a big gulp of her coffee. "She just sounded kind of desperate, like there was something she was dying to tell you."


"I can't think of anything she might need to tell me."


"It might be an apology" she reached across the table and set her hand over top mine. My skin tingled at the slightest touch from her, drawing a connection between us that I couldn’t bare to sever, nor would I want too.


"She has nothing to apologize for." No matter how hard I tried to sell that, I knew Tara wouldn’t buy it. She had come to be able to read me better than anyone else, though honestly was still miss quite a few pieces.


"So her leaving didn't hurt you at all?" I looked up at Tara then. I could see plain on her face, worry but also understanding. This was something she felt she needed to say, and I welcomed her compassion.


I let out a long sigh in defeat, she was right. "I’ll give her a call tonight and see if she's still interested in talking.” I promised her, looking into her baby blues.

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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.

Wow. I love the idea of the fic and how you developed the plot from there. Just stumbled upon it because I don't browse here very often in the last months. Keep on writing. It is a wonderful fic :-)

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She's not drivin stick anymore?