Title: Tara and Willow – The Blessed Unrest – Chapter Eleven Author: Katharyn Rosser Feedback: Absolutely, yes please. That’s why I write for this place, to engage in the discussion about the story. Spoiler warning: Not sure why I am bothering, really, but nothing much apart from the episode ‘Hush’ in S4. And let’s face it, if you’ve not seen that then… what are you doing here? Distribution: This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens and the Kitten Board please. No conversion to eBook or other formats please. Enjoy it here. Story notes: Tara’s background is different to that presented in Family and instead based on a throwaway remark made in interviews around the time Family first aired. (Though I now realise not the precisely terminology used there) Summary: No longer quite so alone as they were… Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc. I am making no money from this series of stories however all original characters and situations remain my property. As this is a missing scenes and alternate reality fiction lots of scenes are new versions of those seen in the show, as such dialogue and situations are taken from the show. I’m sure you can tell which. All credit for those aspects goes to the original writers. The title ‘The Blessed Unrest’ came from and belongs to Sara Bareilles from the album of the same name. Rating: Occasional, tasteful, adult situations and contextual bad language. However by and large equivalent to the show. Couples: Tara and Willow forever, that’s all I’m bothered about. Text convention: Use of italics denotes either special emphasis if used for a single or a few words in a sentence OR first person thoughts if used for a whole sentence. Notes: This is quite a long part by the standards of this story. Once again, it’s about finding the right moment to stop. No, not a cliff-hanger but a little bit of fruity promise (and I don’t mean papple) to leave you on. I’ve had this PERFECT line I picked up from someone’s vlog after I’d written all the first draft and I’ve been waiting, looking for somewhere to *COUGH* insert it. But I’ve not found that perfection yet. I’ll tell you when I do though because… well, it’s very Willow and actually happened to real people (who aren’t me!) Thanks to: Cattwoman for making my day last week... I've said why!
“Look. I’m all sticky,” Tara said, frowning at the papple juice all over her hands.
“I don’t mind,” Willow grinned back at her.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Hey, I think I should be offended just by the way you said that. Should I be offended? Why don’t you explain what you mean by that?”
Willow didn’t sound very offended, but she did want an answer.
“Just that you seem able to turn just about everything into something dirty.”
“What’s dirty about that?” Willow asked.
She gave Willow a look. C’mon.
“Oh. Ohhh. Right - I didn’t – actually – I mean, I wasn’t being deliberately ‘dirty’. Not exactly…” Willow said.
“Really?”
“Tara, I’m shocked you’d have to ask me twice. Have I ever lied to you?”
“No.”
“See. Ira and Sheila Rosenberg didn’t raise a liar. So you can believe me when – Look, Tara, the thing is I have no idea what I’m saying. It’s this whole other culture you’re introducing me to.”
“It’s just me,” she said. “I’m not sure it can be a culture when it’s just me.”
“No, I’m here, remember? So it’s us,” Willow said. “And if all you need for a culture is plural then, we can be a culture together. And I don’t mean – like, yeast or anything but – stopping. Stopping now.”
She considered. “Are you sure you want to consider that kind of conversation ‘cultured’?”
“Maybe not,” Willow said. “But… do I really do it a lot? Do I really make things dirty?”
“More than I think you know, I guess.”
“Well, you should call me on it. I want to learn. If I say – or maybe inadvertently suggest - something dirty I really want to know I’m doing it.” Willow’s grin was simply huge. “I’d have – I will have a better idea, when I know the all there is to be dirty about. So, there’s that.[/i]
She laughed. So they still weren’t doing much more than kissing – though hands had wandered this morning and that had been all kinds of new fun – but Willow was already living up to her ‘seeker of knowledge’ title.
She’d been seeking with her hands, for a start. And not just for knowledge.
And some of the things she said, some of the things she asked were clearly more about… Well, expectations.
Intimate expectations.
What Willow wanted to ask, but wouldn’t actually come out with, was probably something along the lines of ‘Can you make sure I know all the things that girls do together.’
It wasn’t possible that Willow was ignorant of some of those things, everyone knew what felt good. Right? And straights… well, they did stuff. Surely. But when it came to knowledge and understanding, this girl was nothing if not a completest.
I don’t have the heart to tell her that… I really don’t know much more than the basics and even if that’ll keep us going – and happy – a while, it’s certainly not ‘all.’
She’d probably not be able to hide the disappointment, and I don’t want to be the cause of that.
But it’s only because finding all these things out really needs… Well, someone else.
Or lots of practice starting from ignorance.
Not ‘or’. ‘And’ lots of practice.
The other thing that she’d not really admitted – out loud – was just how interested she was in them finding out together.
Because – who wouldn’t be? Willow was an amazing young woman. Obviously off-the-charts-smart. Computer and science expert but also a witch – which felt like it should be a contradiction but somehow wasn’t in her case.
Willow knew all sorts of things and she was kind. She was understanding and she was… beautiful.
Very. Very. Beautiful.
And she makes me laugh more than anyone ever has. Dirty comments and all.
“In that case,” she said. “I promise to give you a sign every time you say something dirty.”
“Good. What will the sign be?”
“I don’t know.”
“You could… lift a finger?”
“No.”
“Two?”
“No.” There she went again.
“Ohh. Right. Right. There I go again. Maybe you could just… give me a look? Just like that one.”
“You already keep saying I give you looks,” she reminded Willow.
“You did give me a look. Just then. But you gave me a different look in Wicca Group that basically said ‘One day soon, I’m going to kiss you. And you’re going to want me to.’”
“I really d-don’t think I did that.”
“Well, you’d be wrong if that’s what you think, because that’s exactly what it looked like. Of course, I didn’t realise all of that at the time. In the moment I just sort of went ‘Gosh – that’s a look.’”
“So with the benefit of hindsight you figured it out…?”
Willow nodded. “Yeah, if we – you know – more – maybe – then, with the benefit of hindsight, I’ll really think you meant something very different. At least I hope I will.”
“I can promise you I wasn’t thinking that,” she said, knowing exactly which moment Willow was referring to. It wasn’t the first time she’d laid eyes on her, but it was the first time Willow had noticed her. Who wasn’t going to remember that? She’d really meant it as more of a ‘kindred spirits’ kind of look though. None of… well, this that they were talking about.
Giving someone that kind of look? It really wasn’t her thing. Usually.
“Are you sure?”
“Really.”
Willow’s face dropped. “I was…”
“What?”
“I was hoping that maybe you just looked at me and knew, ‘there’s a girl I want to be with’.”
“Why, did you?”
“Well…”
“Seriously?” she asked. This was one thing they’d not really explored yet. Every day, every hour, with Willow there was always something new. How long could that go on?
Somehow, it seemed like it might be a long time. This girl would just keep surprising her, she was sure.
“Butterflies, I had butterflies. I didn’t know what it was that I wanted because I hadn’t ever really thought about it – or myself that way - but… Yes, I wanted to see you. Somewhere. Outside the group, you know? I knew that much.”
“Well, yes. I knew that much too – but I didn’t have butterflies,” she said.
“I’m a little disappointed, I have to tell you,” Willow told her. “Once I was pretty sure you were into girls, I was all into the idea that you knew about us even before we’d really spoken. That would’ve been so romantic. And kind of sexy too.”
“Don’t be. Disappointed, I mean. It didn’t take long before I was thinking about you,” she said and then noticed where Willow’s mind was going. “Not like that.” She didn’t ask if it had been like that for Willow because… Some things, even between close friends – even girlfriends – should remain private.
Shouldn’t they?
Of course, having a real honest to goodness, girlfriend – one who was independent and grown up – might change her mind about that assumption. Honestly though, she couldn’t see it. Some things, some of the things in your head should… stay there.
“And your hands are still sticky,” Willow said, taking them.
“Just my fingers,” she corrected as Willow pulled them up and kissed the tips. “That’s… that’s not really helping, I don’t think.”
“I could - ”
“No,” Tara said. “I’ll just go give them a wash.”
Willow smiled. “You’re right, as usual. That’s probably best.”
When she came back from the fountain, all clean, she saw Willow with her back to her. Looking at – talking to something she couldn’t see. One of the animals? It probably had a lot of scope to be adorable, because Willow had the funniest voice when she was addressing the creatures of the forest. Playful and sing song even - except…
She wasn’t talking like that.
In fact, it sounded like she was…
“Tara,” Willow said, realising she was there. “We – ah – have a guest.”
--------------------------
It was a child.
No, not quite a child.
A girl.
Maybe eleven or twelve years old, judging by her height and the beginnings of more adult features. But that was pretty much where her resemblance to any other twelve year old ended and you might go on to doubt the estimate.
Few, if any, twelve year olds had hair so pale as to be closer to silver than any other possible description. Not grey. Not white. Silver. It shone in the sunlight and hung all the way down around her waist. While her eyes were blue, they were a deep – unnatural – blue. Electric blue even, except – on her – it seemed more natural than alien.
And finally… the tips of her ears were lightly pointed.
Oh, and she had wings too. All in all, didn’t that mean - Yes, she looked exactly like a – but those didn’t exist.
Did they?
She’d specifically asked Giles once and the answer had been a firm ‘no’. That the only photographic evidence ever gathered had been cardboard cut-outs pinned to leaves in a Victorian garden.
A hoax.
And those representations looked nothing like what was here with them now.
So, maybe the answer was right there in front of her? Maybe she knew something Giles didn’t?
To all the questions she’d asked, the girl said nothing at all. Just looking at her and tipping her head, a little like a cat might. One that was tolerating stupid-human-noises and idly wondering what they might mean. In between naps, of course.
Which was – apart from the pain – nearly all of her experience with cats summed up.
“Where are your parents?” she tried again as she felt Tara come back. “Tara. We – ah – have a guest.”
“So I see,” Tara said, falling into place beside her. The lightest of touches and… Yeah, it was all going to be okay. That was what Tara did for her. “Hello.”
The girl still didn’t speak, but now all of her attention was on Tara. Just like everything else here. Why should she be any different? A whole forest that just adored Tara Maclay.
Of course, she got it.
But she also realised that unless she was careful then, at some point, feeling jealous of trees might become an issue.
“Do you understand us?” Tara – thankfully oblivious to those thoughts – asked the girl. “Can you tell us your name?”
The girl’s mouth moved, but she made no sound. Which was… strange. Fortunately it also proved that she wasn’t equipped with razor sharp teeth intended to strip teenage flesh from the bone.
Which had to be a concern when you met somewhat unusual beings. Especially the ones that lulled you into a false sense of security by not looking too dangerous.
But…
“Say something else,” she encouraged Tara. Because now she had a theory.
Despite obviously been confused, Tara did as she was asked. “My name’s Tara. This is Willow. She’s my friend. Do you have any friends? Is there anyone else here with you?”
Once again, the girl’s mouth moved – but more clearly now. And only a word or two behind Tara’s. Forming the same words.
“She’s imitating you,” she pointed out. But not me. Again. I’d look good in green… Green’s the colour of jealousy, right? And it goes with red hair? I think I could pull that off.
“No – I - I’m learning,” the girl said, surprising them both. “To talk like you.”
“But – no one said ‘learning’,” she said. “Or talk, actually…”
“I don’t think it matters,” Tara said quietly, probably so as not to interrupt this miraculous process.
After all, were they really saying this girl with wings had learned to speak English from hearing them ask a few questions? Without using the actual words? If so, that definitely fell in the miraculous category.
“It doesn’t m-matter,” the girl said. “My name is Miri. And of course I have friends.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Miri,” Tara said.
“Why?”
Caught out, Tara didn’t seem able to respond right away, so she stepped in. “Because we thought we were all alone here.”
In fact, I didn’t actually mind the idea we were all alone here. And now… we’re not. What does that mean?
“Why?”
“Because… there was no one here – nothing. Just trees. Then there were some animals but no people. Not until you.”
“Why?”
“I… We don’t know. We don’t know where we are,” Willow said, guessing that the repeated ‘why’s’ were actually for her to hear more in the way of words from them, to learn more. Maybe she was wrong, but that was what it felt like. “Do you?”
This time the girl frowned in real confusion. “Of course, but how can you not know where you are? You are here.”
“We – we don’t come from here,” Tara said. “We come from somewhere else – a little like this, but – very different.”
Miri pursed her lips, looked around and then seemed satisfied to accept that explanation. But of course, it came from Tara. In this world, Tara could probably convince her the moon was made of cheese.
Or maybe, in this world, the moon really was. If Tara thought it should be.
What kind of cheese would it be?
“Will you show me things?” Miri asked.
“Of course - ” Tara started to say.
“Excuse us, Miri,” Willow interrupted, pulling Tara to one side. “We just need a private word.”
“What?” Tara asked.
“Oh, we’re going to play with her?” she asked. “With the cute kid? Who just appeared from nowhere?”
“Why not? And she didn’t say ‘play’ she said ‘show her things.’”
“You never watched a single horror movie, did you?” she checked.
“Well - No.”
“Figures. Look, all I’m saying is – I kind of lived a horror movie for the past few years and experience tells me that maybe we should be… careful. I’m not saying she’s homicidal or evil, but you have to allow for the possibility she might be. That’s what I learned.”
Tara looked back to the girl who was just waiting for them. You know, how kids in said movies might because they’ve nothing better to do. Not even fidget. She could’ve been a statue. In fact… there were some statues that they’d seen that… Nah.
The girl was alive but she was different.
Different enough that while they didn’t want to make her feel different, they had to be careful… just in case.
Probably, like everything else here, what could be big, scary and dangerous would turn out to be benign and welcoming.
Probably.
And while ‘probably’ was on the right side of the curve, ‘probably’ could still be wrong.
“If we need to be careful, what’s the best way to tick her off?” Tara asked, all too reasonably.
How did I get a girlfriend who appeals to reason to get what she wants? It’s really not fair, on so many levels.
Not that I deserve her anyway.
“Are you always going to be like this?” she asked.
“Like what?”
“Are you always going to be right?”
“I hope so,” Tara said.
“I used to like being the smartest girl in the room,” she complained.
“Well, if it makes you feel better,” Tara said. “There’s no room. So… I’m just the smartest girl in the forest. Rooms are all yours.”
Actually, that did help.
Just a little.
----------------------
Well, one thing, Miri was certainly willing to talk.
They’d already found out some things about their situation that they’d not known and neither of them could say that there was even a hint of a dangerous bone in the girl’s body. Nor of anything that should make them wary.
Evidently the reason that Miri was here was curiosity and she continued to display plenty of that while not exactly doing much to answer Willow’s own questions beyond being ‘not dangerous’.
They’d been told that Miri had seen the flocking of the birds and the procession of the animals – turned out that none of them actually knew what the word for a large number of squirrels was – and determined that there was something worth discovering in whatever direction they were going.
And based on no more than that, Miri simply… followed them.
Actually, it said – explained – a lot without Miri needing to say so.
That the explanation was something so simple indicated that not only were there others who might come here, it was probably even likely that they would.
It also said something about the fact that people like Miri – whatever she was – matured quickly. No one had appeared to be looking after her, nor did she appear to need it. Certainly there’d been no ‘permission’ needed to follow the birds.
She’d just decided and… come.
So unless there was a ‘Stand By Me’ vibe of adolescent adventure here that their part of home had lost, it did say something about Miri.
Or that she was older than she looked.
But as for Miri herself? She was beyond harmless, she was pleasant, polite and boundlessly energetic.
Comparing notes they’d both decided that never before had either of them been made to feel old, but somehow Miri did that.
Of course, it might not be youth but the way she could zip around and hover like a dragon-fly. Seeing her with feet on the ground was, actually, the more unnatural state.
Her miraculously expanding language skills extended to understanding – and telling – all sorts of stories. But ask her what she was though and she didn’t grasp that concept beyond ‘I’m Miri.’ That and wondering why they’d – repeatedly – ask such dumb questions, with a different explanatory twist each time.
“Do you think that maybe ‘Miri’ is what her people call themselves?” Willow wondered.
“You mean like a tribe or group name or something?”
“Maybe, or maybe just like ‘human’. I mean she’s obviously not that because we don’t have the – you know.”
“Wings?”
“Ears. I was actually going to say ears. It’s always about the wings with you – you just can’t see past them, can you? I starting to suspect you’re a closet wingist.”
“They are pretty amazing,” she replied.
“I know – wait – now do you mean the ears or the wings?” Willow checked.
“Wings,” she said.
“Good, because I already found perfect ears.” Willow kissed the lobe of one of the ears in question and then chuckled as the dress, reacting to her mood, must’ve changed colour or how see-through it was.
Again.
Of course, when Willow did it, it wasn’t just a kiss. It had a real sense of eroticism that wasn’t matched by the physical gesture. It was more like the connection they felt when they touched was transmitting the desire that lay behind her.
And Willow had realised that too, of course. So, yes, Willow liked to play that game when she’d figured out what it meant for the dress. Fortunately, for now, there were boundaries to it. Boundaries like staying dressed…
“Do you think she’d let me look at her wings?” Willow asked a few minutes later, looking over at the girl. Miri wasn’t waiting patiently, because that implied she was having to use patience. No, she was just… waiting. Like time wasn’t relevant to her at all. And to her, perhaps it really wasn’t.
What would that sort of life be like?
And were they already living it when the passing of day into night was becoming little more than a much-appreciated excuse to be in bed together?
“I guess she might. Why?”
“Because – look, to fly like that, her whole back should be engineered just to move and support the wings, I mean look how fast their going. She’s like a hummingbird but with dragonfly wings – which are also pretty fast – but - I’ve not seen her eat? Have you seen her eat?”
“No – why - ?”
“So, anyway… Miri shouldn’t be able to keep up that level of energy use. She shouldn’t even be able to get herself off the ground. The wings are too small and her body just isn’t – Of course, there is always magic.”
“There you go then. Magic.”
“And I don’t need to worry about that,” Willow said. “Not here. So anything else we’re curious about?”
“Probably magic,” she confirmed. “Seems simpler to just go that way?”
“And I’m not going to learn anything by looking?” Willow asked. “Am I?”
“Probably not. Since you don’t have wings. You don’t have wings do you?” she asked.
“Maybe you should take a closer look and check?” Willow suggested.
“Maybe I will…” And it was just that easy to give in to the next stage of their mutual explorations. Something below the neck and Willow’s back – seen from not too great a distance when she’d been bathing – was already a source of fascination.
So pale. So contoured. So Willow.
She had absolutely no doubt – but she wasn’t going to say it – that the front side would prove just as great an attraction.
No. Not ‘as great’. Probably a whole lot more… great.
Of course, in their teasing they missed the near silent approach of Miri. Barefoot, the girl had just proven could sneak up without any trouble. At least when she was flying there was a gentle hum. Willow actually jumped, which was kind of cute to see.
“Are the pair of you mated?” Miri asked without any other preamble. It wasn’t something they’d even talked about beyond being ‘friends’ with Miri.
It might’ve caught Willow at an inconvenient moment since she had to cough her way through her initial reaction.
“Is Willow hurt?” Miri was plainly concerned.
“Just surprised,” she said, rubbing Willow’s back for her. “You move really quietly. But she’ll be fine.”
“So are you mated?” The girl was watching her hand, rubbing Willow’s back. It seemed to suggest something to her. But… really? That was a sign of being ‘mated’?
“We’re…” She looked at the coughing Willow. “We’re really very good friends.”
“So you’re not mated?”
“We – ah – I guess - we will be,” she said, forced to come to some sort of decision in the spirit of talking to the only other being here who could talk back to them. “We’re – planning to be. Sometime.”
“Sometime soon,” Willow coughed. It wasn’t very sexy, but all the same a little ripple of – let’s face it, it was desire and it went right through her.
Damned dress…
Miri grinned and the hum of her wings got louder as she rose a little in the air.
“Tara and Willow under the tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
Her face felt as hot as Willow’s looked, though it might’ve been the coughing that did that.
At least the dress flushed with her and became a little less see-through.
“You know that rhyme?” Willow, now recovered, asked Miri.
“Of course,” Miri, once again, dismissed the question as stupid and zipped off again. For all that she wanted to play with them – which mostly consisted of showing them things - she was perfectly happy off on her own too.
Which was also decidedly not monsterish.
“Why does she know that rhyme?” she wondered. It seemed such a strange and random thing to be shared between worlds.
“I have a better question,” Willow said.
“What is it?”
“When – when exactly - are we going to be mated?”
As if Willow needed encouragement…
--------------------------
“Are we mating tonight, Tara?” she asked. “Are we mating tonight, Tara? Are we mating tonight, Tara?”
Her girlfriend – and since they were talking about mating, she thought she had the perfect right to call Tara a girlfriend – groaned.
After all she’d only asked about fifty times in the last two days.
And Tara had gone from laughter to smiles to groans. Not the kind of groans she was more and more interested in, but as a preview… something to aim for.
But she didn’t think that the oft-repeated question was unreasonable. Not really. Mating had been discussed – she hadn’t even brought it up - and that was a whole load of steps forward from kissing and (light) petting. Did people still call it petting?
I guess if we’re calling it ‘mating’ then we can definitely call it ‘petting’.
In one of the most excruciating interludes in her whole life, her Dad had warned her of the negative consequences of indulging in ‘petting.’ What it led to.
At the time she’d really started out thinking he meant they were going to the store to maybe get a puppy.
And then that they weren’t.
So, it was perfectly possible that no one but them called what they were doing at the moment ‘petting’. Maybe lesbians were supposed to use another word? Something cool and rooted in ancient Greece or latin or something.
Since Tara didn’t know, ‘petting’ it was.
And ‘mating.’ Since Miri had raised it.
“This isn’t funny anymore,” Tara said, but she was still managing a – patient – smile.
“No. It’s just hysterical,” she pointed out.
“Miri might be by,” Tara said, as if that was a real excuse.
“Ah.”
“What does that mean?”
“Another excuse.”
She was teasing. Mostly. And she was also pretty sure that Tara knew it.
Mostly.
But it was just so much fun. Not as much – she was sure – as mating would be. But until they got to that a girl had to get her jollies where she could…
Or her ‘jillies’. Hmm. Might not be a cool, Greek originating word but, hey, it was a word.
Tara gave her a look that said she might not agree with her assessment of what Tara knew. “If you don’t stop with the ‘mating’ question, we might never do it.”
“Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head. “There’s no chance of that.”
“Because you’re irresistible?” Tara asked. And now she was certainly seeing the funny. Her beautiful eyes sparkling.
“That and – well, see, it’d make a liar of you. Miri wants us to mate. She thinks we’re made for each other.”
“She barely knows us,” Tara pointed out, still all smiles.
Some people – on the strength of a few days – might have claimed that she and Tara barely knew each other. But they’d been days – and nights – largely spent in each other’s company and without any word of exaggeration, she felt more comfortable with Tara than anyone else in the world.
Ever.
She felt like she knew her better than Buffy. Better than Oz – because who’d known the furry freak would start behaving like a dog on heat – and better than maybe anyone except Xander. And even that was iffy. Somehow… They both felt it. They both knew it. They knew it so deep-down, with such certainty, that they’d barely even had to talk about it.
It just was.
A fact.
Worthy of being printed in the Encyclopaedia sets and being sold door to door. It was that sort of fact.
“Doesn’t mean she’s wrong,” Willow said about Miri.
They were getting ready for bed (had been for a while, but kept breaking off) and she had to admit that – even if she was half-joking about the mating – she was definitely ready to find out what the next level was. The thing was, the night was their time. Come morning when they woke up the attendant crowd of birds and tree climbing mammals would be there and they were quite an intimidating crowd.
Neither of them was really into being watched. Certainly not by animals that did what they were told, which implied more intelligence than she was comfortable with in an audience.
And maybe they were telling people? People like Miri?
So, yeah, the night was their alone time. And this time Tara stopped her, with the shirt she’d arrived in and worn today up over her face. Holding her from behind. Hands on belly, crossed. Kissing – no that was a nuzzle more than a kiss – the back of her neck. Her shoulder.
“I… I just don’t want to spoil anything,” Tara said.
“I know what you mean,” she breathed from beneath the shirt. “But… I don’t think we could spoil this if we wanted to – and I know I don’t want to. Spoil it, I mean because the other thing – yeah, I pretty much want to get to that. You know, when it’s right for us both.”
Tara’s ‘hmm’ seemed to suggest she knew what she meant this time. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was something else. She didn’t ask, relaxing into her girl’s embrace, swaying a little so that they both did that. Tara going with it and her.
“I’m not serious, you know?” she said. “I just… I like to tease. Tease with words. Not tease – you know, not the other kind of tease.”
“Do you think I’m a tease then?” Tara asked.
“I think you’re perfect,” she said instead. “I just - ”
“I know. But if you wanted - ?”
“No!” She surprised herself with the fierceness of her own denial. “I don’t want anything that’s not right for us. I – Honestly, I still haven’t quite figured out what – you know, unless you’re going to give me a crash course?”
“I thought we said maybe that was another good reason to build up to it slowly.”
No, couldn’t actually remember that conversation. But then she realised what the implication of all that was. “Wait a minute – Tara, are you training me?”
“Not exactly ‘training’.”
“You are!”
“Okay, so… Girl loving 101,” Tara said.
It did have an appeal. One beyond the academic. It implied there might be a test. Spot quizzes. Assessed practical experiments. No, there was no need to be offended. After all, it was what she’d wanted. In fact, this was very good. “Mmm, I like that idea. How much is the tuition?”
“You’ve got a scholarship,” Tara said, one hand moving in little circles on her belly. Delicious little circles.
“Okay then. May I ask one more question?”
“Curiosity is encouraged in class,” Tara said.
“Oh. Good. So here’s my question, is there also an advanced course? Or is this it?”
“One step at a time…”
***********************
_________________ ------------------------- If I wanted a little pussy, I've got my own to play with.
Chance in *Chance* -------------------------
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