Well, here it is. Insanity break! not nearly as wild as it could have been, but i am working within canon, so i hope i am forgiven.
the song at the end is 'In Your Eyes' by Peter Gabriel.
Enjoy!!!!
INSANITY BREAK:
A sultry rhythm began pouring from the stereo speakers, and Trouble began to stalk the room slowly.
“ You see, with other girls you’re like, ‘Meh, she’s ok.’”
The music began to build.
“But with Willow…”
Trouble began to sing.
“I love myself, I want you to love me….”
Trouble flopped down on the couch, and began to strike poses as she sang along to ‘I Touch Myself’ by The Divinyls.
One pose caused her to roll off the couch with a thud, and a giggling Tara helped her up off the floor.
Trouble bounced back quickly, turning her back towards Tara and wrapping her arms around herself in an approximation of making out.
“Oh Willow! Oh yes! More baby, more.”
Tara was speechless with laughter, but did manage to throw a pillow at Trouble, trying to cut her off.
“Yes Willow, YES! Oooohhhh yes. Goddess YES!!”
Tara managed to find the breath to respond to her friends teasing.
“I have to admit,” Tara gasped. “That is f-f-fucking f-f-funny!”
Trouble stopped and turned to stare at Tara in awe. “You swear?!”
Tara tried her best to look dignified. “Only occasionally. And …”
“ During sex?”
Tara responded without thinking. “Yeah,” she hiccupped, realizing what she had said.
“Um, maaaaaybe. M-m-maybe not.”
There was a long silence as the song continued, finally broken by Trouble chuckling to herself.
“Howz it?” Trouble asked, as seriously as possible.
“Huh? What?”
“Howz it?” Trouble said, rolling her hands impatiently.
“Howitz-er?” Tara quirked her eyebrow and frowned, uncertain what guns had to do with the conversation.
“Howz. It.” Trouble repeated, rolling her storm blue eyes and shaking her head. “As in ‘howz it going?’
“Fell a little short,” Tara said with an understanding nod, and an uncontained ‘snerk’.
Trouble slid Tara a mistrustful glare from the corner of her eye.
“I’m drunk. I speak in generalities.”
“Generals?” Tara’s face was a mask of confusion.
Trouble scrambled onto the back of the couch .“Military preoccupation much?”
Just then the song came to it’s bridge and Trouble draped herself along the back of the couch. Being small had it’s advantages when it came to furniture.
Trouble got into the most seductive pose her position on the couch would allow, and once again started to sing along in a husky voice.
“I want you. I don’t want anybody else. And when I think about you….. I touch myself. Oooooh, oooooh, oooohhh ah ah ah ahhhhhh.”
Her risqué display of running her hands wantonly over her body nearly brought Tara to tears with laughter.
Tara was laughing so hard she didn’t notice Trouble start to wobble, and eventually fall over the back of the couch, again. The loud thump from the other side of the couch did, however, go noticed.
Tara let out a startled cry, and rushed to the couch to look over and see Trouble laying on her back laughing so hard her face was turning red, and her breath was coming in gasps.
“Ya know, if your gonna keep doing that, I’m not gonna help you up anymore.” Tara informed her loftily.
Trouble tried to stop laughing but failed miserably. “Then quit while you’re ahead.” she said between chuckles. “Cuz I’m not stopping anytime soon.”
12 more songs later…..
Tara recognized a familiar song with a Latin undertone running through it.
“Madonna?” she asked Trouble, her eyebrow quirking.
“Can’t argue with the classics.”
Trouble hopped up from the floor and began to dance, and sing, along again.
“When you see her, say a prayer and kiss your heart goodbye. She’s trouble in a word, get closer to the fire. Run faster, her laughter burns you up inside.”
Trouble began spinning in circles.
“Your spinning round and round you can’t get up, you try but you can’t.”
Tara simply couldn’t resist, she had to chime in on the chorus, and their voices sounded in unison.
“Who’s that girl!”
“Last call,” Trouble announced, pouring out one more round.
As she handed Tara her glass her eyes went wide.
“Oh! Oh, oh, oh, oh!”
Tara tilted her head to the side. “Oh?”
If Trouble hadn’t been holding two shot glasses in her hands, she surely would have been jumping up and down.
“The skirt! Do the thing with the skirt!” she enthused, handing Tara her last shot.
Tara accepted the drink with her trademark quirked eyebrow. “The skirt?”
“Cheers!” Trouble practically shouted, raising her glass.
“Cheers!” Tara echoed back, tinkling their glasses together.
They gulped down the last of the sweet liquor, and banged there glasses down on the coffee table.
“The skirt! You know! With the swishing, and dancing, and the swishing.”
“That thing. With the skirt. That goes with songs like these.” Tara said, nodding rhythmically
Trouble grinned from ear to ear. “Exactly!”
Tara sighed dramatically, and pretended to find the suggestion offensive.
Trouble dropped to her knees, and gave her a pitiful look.
Tara gave an exasperated sigh, then gathered one side of her skirt in each hand and gave Trouble a look that said ‘Seriously?’
Trouble gave her the sweetest smile she could manufacture.
Tara gave another resigned sigh before beginning to swing her hands to the music, causing her skirt to swish and swirl around her ankles.
Trouble began dancing, and swaying around the room, singing along.
“I speaka no Spanish… Who’s that girl? I barely speak English! Who’s that girl?”
Troubles improvised lyrics left Tara breathless with laughter, but still she swished and swirled through the room with her.
“You try to avoid, your fate is in her hands. She’s smiling, an invitation to the dance.”
Tara beamed as she completed a particularly fast spin.
They continued twirling round the room, echoing the lyrics as they went, swaying unsteadily to the rhythm.
“Light up my life, so blind I can’t see. Light up my life, no one can help me now.”
They spun to a stop and looked at one another, their voices ringing out in perfect harmony.
“Who’s that girl?”
A spin.
“Now, who’s that girl?”
Another spin, but still in harmony.
“Now, who’s that girl?”
One last spin, Tara’s skirt swirling, Trouble’s hands above her head.
“Now, who’s that girl?”
As the song wound down, both women moved towards their seats.
“I hate dancing!” Trouble panted, collapsing onto the couch, as Tara unceremoniously fell into the chair.
Tara’s head raised up and leaned to the right. “But you just danced to like 14 songs!” Tara exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
“I know, right!” Trouble said, feigning a surfer accent. “I was like I couldn’t control my body! I just couldn’t stop. It was horrible!”
Tara slapped her palm against her forehead, shaking her head back and forth. “Why do I hang out with you?” she asked, innocently.
“Cuz I’m smart, I’m funny, I’m schmexy, I’m dangerous… I’m T-R-O-U-B-L-E!!!!!!”
“”That is an undeniable understatement.”
Trouble spun around, dangling her feet over the back of the couch, her head hanging off a cushion and a goofy grin plastered on her face.
“Tara?”
“Trouble?”
“Tara?”
“Trouble?”
“Tara?”
“Yeah, Trouble?”
“Do you trust me?”
Tara thought for all of point five seconds. “Sure.”
“Serious here.”
“I do trust you..”
“Trust me enough to take some advice?”
Again Tara stopped to think. “Depends on the advice.”
“It’s um, advice, on well, uh…”
Tara had a bewildered look on her face. “It’s not frogs is it? Cause Willow doesn’t like frogs. Or tadpoles. Or horses. Which is silly really when you think about it…. Hey I rhymed! Oh goddess! Willowbabble is a disease! I’m infected! Stop me, please!”
Trouble fell over sideways, and slid down off the couch laughing as Tara’s eyes widened in surprise at her second unintentional rhyme.
“Poetical much there, Mouse?”
“Not purposefully, I’ll let you know.”
Trouble chuckled silently, slapping her thigh.
“Uh, it’s not about frogs right, cause Willow…”
“No, no, no, no, no. Advice about make-up sex silly!”
Tara shook her head. “I don’t like to wear make-up during sex.”
“Can’t eat Jenny Craig with Mary Kay on your face?” Trouble asked innocently.
Tara spit soda out all over the coffee table in front of her coughing violently, causing Trouble to break into furious silent laughter.
“Huh,” Trouble remarked as Tara’s sputtering died down. “Four is one too many for you.”
She cocked her head to the right, and watched Tara carefully.
“You, young lady, are staying here. Tonight.” Trouble announced, her inebriation getting the better of her language skills.
“Am I?”
“Yessss,” Trouble slurred. “You have bed duty.”
“Bed duty? Oh doody.” Tara paused. “What that would be, exactly?”
“It is your duty, this o’…. something hundred hours, to hold down my bed.”
“Hold. Down. Your. Bed?”
“Yesh m’am. It is of the utmost importance, Tara,” Trouble intoned solemnly, giving her a conspiratorial look. “It likes to moooooove.”
Tara blinked at this. “Moooove?”
“Mooooove.”
Tara nodded, and kept nodding whileTrouble laughed silently.
“And you will be where? While I’m on this moving bed?”
“On the infinitely more unpredictable and waaaaay more dangerous couch.”
“O-o-okay.”
“And your cleaning that soda up off the coffee table.”
Trouble gave a low chuckle, and heaved herself off the coach, weaving her way into the kitchen.
“Water, water every where,” she murmured, disappearing through the door.
While Tara contemplated moving beds and nefarious couches, Trouble dug through her fridge and cabinets.
Just as Tara decided the furniture was safer then it seemed, Trouble reappeared with two bottles of water and a towel. Hidden in her tiny hand was two aspirin.
“Drink this,” she said handing Tara a bottle.
“Take these,” she dropped the aspirin in Tara’s hand.
“And use this,” the towel was relinquished. “To clean up that.” She pointed at the soda covered coffee table.
“Yes ma’am,” Tara giggled.
“Cause we are fixing to call it a night Mouse.”
“Sleep?” Tara queried.
“Yes, Mouse. Now it is time to sleep, and hope our festivities don’t bite us in the ass tomorrow.”
Tara stood, about to wipe down the coffee table, when she became preoccupied with trying to see her own ass.
Trouble watched, bemused, as she managed several circles before falling back into the chair.
She dropped her head to her chest as she tried to keep Tara from noticing her laughter.
“Sleep,” Tara murmured. “Sleep is good.”
“Yes, Mouse. Sleep is of the good. Now wipe down the table and I’ll find you some jammies.”
Tara focused as hard as she could on mopping up her mess as Trouble disappeared through the door behind her.
A few minutes later the table was clean and Trouble re-emerged with a large pile in her arms.
Tara was busy leaning back in the chair, wondering how Trouble had gotten the walls to start spinning.
“Um, I don’t think I need all that to cover me. I mean, I know I’m bigger then you. But not much that bigger. And besides, that’s more way fabric then I would need even if I’m bigger. And somehow that was ‘sposed to make sense, but there’s the part where I drunk am and now with the babble. And-”
Trouble’s eyes were wide, and her mouth hung open. With a perplexed look on her face she held up a T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, offering them to Tara.
“I’m pretty sure the shirt and boxers will cover you, Mouse. The sheets and blanket are for the couch. It gets cold at night, and then it gets sick. It’s a thing.”
Tara nodded slowly, her eyes darting back and forth with the spinning room.
“Damn, that babble is really contagious, and even funnier when your drunk.”
Tara carefully took the proffered clothing, a sheepish grin on her face.
Trouble tossed the pile of linens she was holding onto the couch and took Tara by the shoulders, pushing her towards the bedroom.
“You. Bed. Now. Ya jolly, babbling, drunk, Wiccan.”
Tara let herself be ushered into the bedroom which was, oddly enough, exactly the same as the last time she had been coerced into staying after a late, late night.
Same queen sized bed, same half dozen bookshelves filled to over flowing, same miss matched dressers, even the same shoes laying out on the floor. The only difference being that more of the walls had disappeared under new artwork Trouble had hung.
“You never change do you?” she asked, giving Trouble an appraising look.
“Not often, Mouse, not often.”
Trouble pulled back the blankets on her bed then turned Tara around, pushing her back gently till she sat on the bed.
“Change into your p.j.’s, and get comfy. I’ll put on a lullaby to carry you off to sleep.”
Trouble exited the room, leaving Tara to change by the soft glow of a tiny night light.
As Tara crawled under the blankets she heard a relaxing melody start flowing in through the door.
love I get so lost, sometimes
days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
when I want to run away
I drive off in my car
but whichever way I go
I come back to the place you are
all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
the heat I see in your eyes
love, I don't like to see so much pain
so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away
I get so tired of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive
and all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light,
the heat I see in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes
Tara drifted off into a peaceful sleep with images of bright green eyes, a quirky smile, and flashes of red hair dancing through her mind.