The Kitten, the Witches and the Bad Wardrobe - Willow & Tara Forever

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/16
PostPosted: Fri Sep 20, 2019 8:35 pm 
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6. Sassy Eggs
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leftindust wrote:
Just read all of this, wow! Loving the 40s setting and the different takes on our girls. Very cool, can't wait to read more.



Hey there :bigwave Glad you are enjoying the story and the unusual depiction of our leading ladies. Next chapter will be up tomorrow, thanks for reading/reviewing.

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Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/16
PostPosted: Fri Sep 20, 2019 8:42 pm 
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6. Sassy Eggs
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*WILLOW* wrote:
I just noticed you're putting /18 after every chapter. Does that mean we're almost halfway finished with this incredible story?!? :cry :((


You are correct, we are just shy of the halfway mark ... but no fret, there's still a lot more to read!

Quote:
I'm getting the sudden feeling that Buffy may have had something to do with/or been a part of Mr. Maclay's death.


I can't deny nor confirm this, just that everyone is suppose to be looked at as a suspect whether they were good or bad on the show.


Quote:
This reminds me so much of the movie/game CLUE .... 'was it Buffy, in the laboratory with a candlestick?!


That's awesome, I never even thought of it like that! :laugh But I guess in a way you're right. Thanks for reading/reviewing. The next chapter will be up early tomorrow.

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Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/16
PostPosted: Sat Sep 21, 2019 6:37 am 
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6. Sassy Eggs
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Chapter 8
WPV

I found myself standing outside the Maclay estate rather early the next morning. Thoughts of the blonde had plagued me throughout the night; her radiant smile haunting my dreams and driving me out of bed at an ungodly hour. In a handful of days, she somehow managed to purchase real estate in my state of unconsciousness. I should have denied the job as soon as she told me her name. Nothing good ever came from falling for your client.

I must have readjusted my tie several times, making sure it sat perfectly against my chest before I knocked on the luminous door. Just like every time prior, Buffy answered punctually, a radiating smile plastered on her face as she swung the door open in greeting. Without waiting for an invite, I stepped over the threshold, pulling my fedora off in the process, brushing off the snow that had accumulated.

“Buffy,” I said as I nodded my head at her, “how’s your morning going?”

“Quite well, Miss Rosenberg, thank you for asking,” she replied politely as she helped me out of my overcoat. “How about yourself?”

I debated about telling her the truth. Something about the petite blonde made me feel as if I could confide in her. I opened my mouth to tell her of my predicament but snapped it shut at the last moment. Instead, I copied her sentiment. “Quite well.”

This seemed to appease her as she shot me a quick smile before gesturing to the formal living room with a broad sweep of her hand. Wordlessly I followed behind her. As we reached the doublewide, arched doorframe, Buffy cleared her throat slightly as to not startle Tara-Rose who was slumbering by the fireplace. She was still in her sleep attire and her face was bare of all that make-up crap.

“Miss. Tara-Rose, Detective Rosenberg is here.”

She opened her eyes slowly, her eyelash rising like velvet theater curtains, making me weak in my knees. As our eyes lock, she relaxed the fastener on her lips and smiled in my direction. A new sense of dread suddenly bestowed upon me as I took in her features: pure and imperfect, just the way that God intended. I felt myself falling. This woman before me, the one who had the audacity to be beautiful even on days when everything around her was ugly had knocked me to the ground and I was sure my elbows had scars showing the tall-tale sign of me hitting hard.

I did my best to clear my throat and push away my desire. Smiling back at her, I stepped further into the room. “I’m sorry for my earliness; I hope I’m not disturbing you,” I said apologetically, “I can come back a little later if I am.”

“Nonsense,” she replied as she waved me off. “Come sit with me by the fire.”

Obediently, I sat down on the loveseat adjacent to her. We sat quietly for several moments until the sound of her shifting her position on the settee, her feet coming up to rest alongside her, penetrated the air. As she repositioned her legs, her night dress rose up her thigh and I got a full eyes view of silky smooth flesh.

Painstakingly, I tore my eyes away from her luscious gams, deciding that we sat in silence long enough. “Tara-Rose, I was planning on going to La Beau today to speak with your employees. Is there anyone in particular you can think of that I should speak with? Anyone who might be able to help with the investigation.”

Lazily, she tore her eyes away from the fire to look at me, her eyelids heavy, indicating that she had been on the verge of falling back to sleep. She smiled at me apologetically, as if she had forgotten I was there. “You should speak with our foreman, Ethan Rayne.” She said calmly as she traced her finger over the peach silk, toying with the fabric. “He’s been with us since my father first started the company and knows everything that goes on inside the factory.”

“Is he in charge of all the workers?” I ask as I make a mental note to speak with the foreman.

“Just the assembly line,” she replied as she shifted her position once more, swinging her feet to the floor gracefully as she stood up from the couch. “My father and I oversaw sales and the marketing team.”

I watch her in complete rapture as she slinked into her bedjacket, the light pink complementing her complexion. Tying the sash loosely around her waist, she walked toward an oak, barley twist buffet and pulled one of the drawers open, my eyes following her every movement. Before I had the chance to ask her what it was she was looking for, Tara closed the drawer and turned back toward the couches.

Sitting down on the unoccupied cushion next to me, she reached for my hand. Silently, she rotated my wrist and placed an object into my palm.

“So you can come and go from the factory as you please,” she indicated, her fingers curling my own over a cool piece of metal.

My gaze flickered from her twinkling blue eyes down to our entwined hands and then back up again. My skin tingled from where she clasped it, a burning prickle ebbing into my flesh, contrasting starkly against the metal key resting in my palm. She held on to my hand longer than what was considered socially acceptable but I wasn’t complaining; I wanted her touch on me. All over me.

“Willow,” my name comes out of her mouth like a stuttering soliloquy. Almost as if she’s been practicing how to master the syllables of my name in the dark. Perfecting it in the solitude of her room.

My heart clenched. I have never heard my name sound so appealing.

“I didn’t think I would ever learn your real name,” she finally said, whispering delicately as her thumb traced circles on the back of my hand.

“I didn’t think I’d ever tell you,” I replied honestly as I maintained eye contact, unwilling to look down at our hands and give her the satisfaction of knowing how much her touch was affecting me.

“Why did you then?” Her tone has become husky, her penetrating gaze probing a quick response.

“I guess I got tired.”

“Tired of what?” Tara-Rose asked as she anchored her attention on my lap where our hands lay clasped together.

I feel myself shifting, my body moving closer to hers as our knees lightly brush. “Hiding…” My tongue instantly freezes in my mouth as her lashes swept up; her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. It wasn’t until I felt a burning sensation in my chest did I realize that I had been holding my breath. Shakily, I exhaled only to gasp for air once more when she leaned closer.

“You don’t ever have to hide from me,” she said softly as her unpainted lips ever so slightly grazed my jaw; her hot breath tickling my ear as she spoke, “Willow. “

As a shiver ran down my spine, her words invoking a stampede in my chest, a loud rapping on the doorframe engulfed the living room. Our eyes diverted as we sprung apart, our hands unclasping instantly as dueling blushes crept up our necks. Sheepishly, I looked over my shoulder to see Buffy standing in the middle of the doorway, a cheeky smile on her lips.

“Miss. Tara-Rose, breakfast is ready,” she replied professionally. “Detective, will you be eating with Miss. Tara-Rose?”

I chanced a look out of the corner of my eye at Tara-Rose, noticing that she was staring off at the fireplace, refusing to make eye contact with Buffy. Her embarrassment was evident in her posture and the way she held her hand against her face.

“No, I don’t think I will be,” I replied respectfully as I stood up from the couch, straightening out my tie in the process. “But if Donald’s here, I’d like to speak with him.”

“I’m afraid to inform you that Mr. Donald left shortly before your arrival to go see his doctor.”

“Doctor?” Tara asked, her attention pulled from the fireplace to stare questioningly at the maid. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine Miss. Tara-Rose.” Buffy interjected quickly as she shot her boss a reassuring smile. “The poor boy broke a few fingers playing rugby. I phoned Dr. Giles last night. He wanted Mr. Donald to come to his office first thing in the morning to be splinted.”

I bit the inside of my lip at the mention of my God Father’s name. I’ve heard it now twice in as many days and each time a feeling of resentment bore deep into my heart. Not wanting to dwell on the subject I move away from the couch, from Tara-Rose and approached the doorway to the foyer.

“Is Alexander here?” I ask as I step in front of Buffy.

“In the kitchen,” she said as she sidestepped to allow me to pass.

Without looking back, I exit the formal living room. As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I caught sight of Liam sitting at the breakfast nook with his head bowed, Alexander hunched over him menacingly; one hand poised on the back of the chair while the other rested flat on the table. Clearing my throat, I entered the room, unsurprised when Alexander’s glowering eyes traveled to mine.

“Alexander, I would like to speak with you,” I state matter-of-factly as I stood my ground in front of him. “We can speak while driving to La Beau Cosmetics.”

I didn’t give him an opportunity to argue as I spun on my heels and exited the room, walking briskly to the hall closet where Buffy had stowed my overcoat.

To my dismay, the ride to La Beau ended up being uneventful. Alexander proved to be more cooperative then I had originally anticipated. He came clean almost instantly about his short lived tryst with his former boss’s daughter. Stating to me that they were nothing more than very close friends and he would do anything to protect her. His tone left nothing to be deciphered. The veiled threat came across loud and clear.

My visit to the factory was no different. Ethan Rayne, a tall wisp of a man with an inferiority complex begrudgingly showed me around the compound. To my surprise he left nothing out. We stopped at every office and spoke with every employee, sometimes twice. Gruff, his patience wearing thin from having been away from the assembly line for the better part of the day, he finally showed me to Mr. Maclay’s office, our last stop.

Once inside the office, I waved off the foreman, indicating I no longer needed his assistance. As soon as he departed, I closed myself inside of the room, deeply inhaling the scent of stale perfume and cedar. Wrinkling up my nose at the odor, I marched over to the desk positioned strategically in the center of the room.

Laid bare on the polish wood was a calendar with shaky handwritten appointments scheduled in. I briefly scanned the dates; nothing of importance popping out until I got to the day before Mr. Maclay’s death. There, in scribbled cursive penmanship, a six o’clock appointment at Wallabout Bay. Ripping the sheet free from the calendar, I shoved the paper into my pocket.

Rifling through the rest of his desk, I came across a dossier tucked under a pile of voicemail receipts. Pulling the folder free, I flipped it open to find an ill-conceived sketch of a building. The name Best Western International, Inc., printed in big letters over the drawing. Attached was a voided check for the sum of twenty three thousand dollars, Mr. Maclay’s signature scribbled out on the bottom right hand side and the name of the intended recipient left blank. Intrigued, I browsed through the booklet, quickly realizing that someone had offered a business investment opportunity to Mr. Maclay which he had apparently backed out of. By what I was able to decipher, if Mr. Maclay had gone through with this deal, he stood to make millions, or potentially lose everything.

Collecting the dossier as potential evidence, I took one last look around the room before exiting. Once outside, I shot Alexander a look informing him I wasn’t in the mood to hear his voice. Climbing into the backseat of the limo I barked out the next address and tell him to put a step on it. I needed to find my snitch. She was always good for reliable Intel, granted you had the cabbage to pay for it.

When I finally caught up with my informant, she was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog dubbed Fireball Reynolds in a ramshackle joint just outside Brooklyn, drinking the heart right out of a fine winter afternoon. I wasn’t surprised to see him here with her, crouched over a small wooden table littered with bottles, one meaty paw wrapped around a beer and the other around her wrist. The drunk was well known around these parts, often for hiring women of the night to keep him company … and for beating them too. I always worried for her safety, more so tonight after seeing her companion. Caleb Reynolds was a man with a mean streak; an uncontrollable rage that burned deep within him which he frequently took out on the women he kept company with, leaving them disfigured. This man was the epitome of evil, filled with so many demons that not even a priest could save him.

I caught her eye as soon as I walked through the door, a noticeable huff leaving her lips as I crossed the bar to her table. Positioning myself between her and the kerb-crawler, I inform her that we need to speak.

“Piss off flatfoot,” Caleb snarled, his hold on her wrist tightening significantly, bruising the tender flesh. “I paid for her through the evening.”

Holding in my own rage, I pulled my wallet from the inside of my coat, quickly pulling out a couple of bills. Slamming the two dollars down on the table, I looked at the misogynist menacingly, daring him to protest. “Beat it. I need to borrow the lady for a moment; your next few rounds are on me.”

Seething, his face reddened like an over-ripe tomato as he glared me down. I could tell he was having an internal war with himself: refuse out of indignation or concede and take the money. The latter finally won as he released his grip from bruised flesh to pocket the cash.

Atta boy Caleb.

"You know what he’ll do when he comes back?” the share crop hissed through her teeth as she hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “Beat my teeth out, then kick me in the stomach for mumbling."

“Am I being polite or can I say what I want?” I reply snidely as I arched an eyebrow.

“I’m afraid I don’t like your manner,” she said to me, using the edge of her voice, letting me know she wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.

“I’ve had complaints about it,” I said nonchalantly with a soft shrug of my shoulders, both my tone and mood indifferent, “but nothing seems to do any good.”

“What do you want, Red?” she finally asked, her voice hollow; sadness softening her nasal twang, “I’m busy.”

“I’m not staying long,” I replied, as I pulled the sheet of calendar paper out of my breast pocket. Pointing to the date in question, I search out her haunted hazel eyes, “This here says James Maclay had an appointment down by Wallabout Bay the evening before he died; you happen to see him that night?”

“I don’t know,” she replied flippantly as she tossed her long chocolate locks over one shoulder, giving me a clear view of the long, white, serrated scar that ran the length of her neck. “But, fifty dollars buys a lot of information in my circle.”

“Five dollars buys a lot in your circle,” I shot back mockingly, even as my hand reached for my wallet. I pull out several bills, laying one on the table in front of her. “Lay it on me, doll.”

“I saw your guy,” she proclaimed as she snatched up the Lincoln, holding it at eye level, scrutinizing it before burying the bill deep into her bustier, “early Thursday night down by the Navy yard, around seven.”

“Was he alone?”

“No, he was talking to a Ferry captain.”

Rolling my eyes skyward, I hand her another dollar, wordlessly telling her to continue.

“They were arguing about something; a shipment that never arrived. Maclay was accusing the man of stealing and threatened to call Johnny law.”

“You get a good look at this Ferry Captain?” I asked, intrigued by this new tidbit of information. I anxiously stood there, waiting for her to continue. When she wasn’t forthcoming with any more information, I begrudgingly slapped another dollar bill down onto the table’s sticky surface.

“Yeah, I got a good look at him,” she admitted as she tucked away the newly acquired loot. “He was a short, beefy man with hardly any neck ... or hair. A real chrome-dome.”

Anything else?”

“He came into Madams afterward, cursing Maclay’s name, saying he would get even.”

“You get a name?”

This game of twenty questions was starting to grate on my nerves.

“Russell,” she snatched the last bill out of my hand, shoving it between her breasts along with the others before I could protest. “Russell Snyder.”

The name wasn’t ringing any bells. Either Snyder was an altar boy or he wasn’t from around these parts. Either way, I made a mental note to track him down.

“Thanks for your help, doll,” I say as I grab her cheek, pinching it briskly. “Try to stay out of trouble, will ya?”

I catch her eyes flicker momentarily over to the bar where Caleb’s consuming rum like its water, her expression bleak. I wanted to help her, I did. But she chose this life for herself years ago. She knew the risks better than anyone. There was nothing I could do for her except occasionally throw her a few bucks to stay off the streets for a night. It was ironic, really. Cordelia Chase, my old high school tormentor; a former bathing beauty turned trick. This cocotte was the closest thing to a friend I had in this god forsaken city.

That’s life though. Whichever way you turn, fate sticks out a foot to trip you.

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Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/21
PostPosted: Sun Sep 22, 2019 1:09 pm 
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7. Teeny Tinkerbell Light

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Yay, Dibs. I love this story. I like it so much I read it on both submission sites. Thanks for writing. :applause

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/21
PostPosted: Mon Sep 23, 2019 1:23 pm 
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2. Floating Rose
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Quote:
“I don’t know,” she replied flippantly as she tossed her long chocolate locks over one shoulder, giving me a clear view of the long, white, serrated scar that ran the length of her neck. “But, fifty dollars buys a lot of information in my circle.”

“Five dollars buys a lot in your circle,” I shot back mockingly, even as my hand reached for my wallet. I pull out several bills, laying one on the table in front of her. “Lay it on me, doll.”



The banter between Willow and Cordelia is great. I was totally not expecting Cordy to be the informant. At first I was thinking Faith or maybe even Drusilla.

Keep up the good work. Looking forward to the next update.


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/21
PostPosted: Mon Sep 23, 2019 2:22 pm 
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Love it! Can't wait for more

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/21
PostPosted: Mon Sep 23, 2019 10:41 pm 
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4. Extra Flamey

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Quote:
In a handful of days, she somehow managed to purchase real estate in my state of unconsciousness.

Quote:
She opened her eyes slowly, her eyelash rising like velvet theater curtains, making me weak in my knees.

Quote:
This woman before me, the one who had the audacity to be beautiful even on days when everything around her was ugly had knocked me to the ground and I was sure my elbows had scars showing the tall-tale sign of me hitting hard.


I love the vivid imagery in those sentences! You really are quite the wordsmith! :bow

So there obviously is some discord among the staff of Maclay-estate… I guess it has nothing to do with the murder though. Probably all three men have set their sights on Buffy and she doesn't know which one to choose?

So now we have Snyder as another suspect… I also doubt that Donny broke his fingers playing rugby... Hopefully he won't be "accidentally" shot in the kneecaps or something like that next!

Quote:
“Thanks for your help, doll,” I say as I grab her cheek, pinching it briskly. “Try to stay out of trouble, will ya?”

I catch her eyes flicker momentarily over to the bar where Caleb’s consuming rum like its water, her expression bleak. I wanted to help her, I did. But she chose this life for herself years ago. She knew the risks better than anyone. There was nothing I could do for her except occasionally throw her a few bucks to stay off the streets for a night. It was ironic, really. Cordelia Chase, my old high school tormentor; a former bathing beauty turned trick. This cocotte was the closest thing to a friend I had in this god forsaken city.


That makes me sad for Cordy and Willow. Willow needs "proper" friends who would have her back in a crisis. Maybe Xander and Buffy could be willing to take this role before the story ends?
And perhaps the Maclay-household could employ Cordelia as another staff-member?


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/21
PostPosted: Fri Sep 27, 2019 7:31 pm 
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6. Sassy Eggs
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taranwillow4ever wrote:
Yay, Dibs. I love this story. I like it so much I read it on both submission sites. Thanks for writing. :applause



Aww thanks, that's so sweet. :blush I really appreciate it. Glad you're enjoying and hope you like the next update.



wickedaddiction wrote:
The banter between Willow and Cordelia is great. I was totally not expecting Cordy to be the informant. At first I was thinking Faith or maybe even Drusilla.

Keep up the good work. Looking forward to the next update.


Thank you! I was trying to keep the informants identity hidden to the very end of the chapter to give the character a bit of a mystery so I'm glad it translated well. Hope you enjoy the next chapter.



leftindust wrote:
Love it! Can't wait for more



Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the fic. Hope you enjoy the next chapter.



Will's redemption wrote:
I love the vivid imagery in those sentences! You really are quite the wordsmith! :bow


aww shucks, you're too kind :blush


Quote:
So there obviously is some discord among the staff of Maclay-estate… I guess it has nothing to do with the murder though. Probably all three men have set their sights on Buffy and she doesn't know which one to choose?


Image

Quote:
So now we have Snyder as another suspect… I also doubt that Donny broke his fingers playing rugby... Hopefully he won't be "accidentally" shot in the kneecaps or something like that next!


I'm trying to incorporate as many baddies from the show as possible to keep the Detective busy. There are still a few left to pop up in the remaining chapters. Although I like the idea, Donny's not going to be taken out at the knees. lol

Quote:
That makes me sad for Cordy and Willow. Willow needs "proper" friends who would have her back in a crisis. Maybe Xander and Buffy could be willing to take this role before the story ends? And perhaps the Maclay-household could employ Cordelia as another staff-member?


I agree with you, the situation is pretty sad but I felt it was necessary. By keeping Willow a loner, I feel like it connects with the era, and how her job has alienated her from a lot of people.

Thanks for reading and leaving feedback, I always look forward to see your thoughts on the chapter.

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Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/21
PostPosted: Fri Sep 27, 2019 8:08 pm 
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CHAPTER 9/18 (we're half way through!)
TPOV

The vanity in my room held the top-of-the-line Le Beau Cosmetics. Spritzing myself with a spray of perfume, I checked the mirror one last time. Grabbing my beaded purse from my dresser, I stopped by Donald’s room to get the tuxedo I had found toward the back of his closet; one he had worn to our cousin Beth’s wedding a few years back. Thankfully, when Donald had been around sixteen, he was still relatively lean and hadn’t yet hit his growth spirt. Holding onto the banister, I hurried down the grand staircase, nearly running into Buffy at the bottom of the steps.

“Miss Tara-Rose! You look beautiful, as always. Blue truly is your color!” she took me in, holding my hand as she twirled me around like a ballerina. Taking both of my hands in hers, she looked at me and said, “Your father would be proud sweetheart. Please enjoy yourself tonight.

I did my best to hold back my tears, I felt like all I had been doing the past week was crying. Thankfully for me, I cried most of my tears during Willow’s visit earlier this week; I’m sure she didn’t feel as fortunate to have seen them as I was to having a comforting shoulder while they were shed.

“Thank you so much for your kind words, Buffy. I hope you and Liam enjoy your night off. Stay out of trouble.” I gave her a knowing wink. I was quite certain that something had been going on between Buffy and Liam for some time now. They didn’t talk about it much but the looks they gave each other were loving and it made me yearn for something like that in my life.

Looking down at my hand, I smiled like a fool at the piece of notepad paper resting in my palm; the same foolish smile that graced my lips every day this week since the Detective told me her name. Willow. Her name was as beautiful as she is. Commotion from the doorway broke me from my thoughts. I watched as Alexander walked through the foyer and I handed him the slip of paper where Willow had written her address in surprisingly elegant handwriting. Pocketing the slip of paper, he then helped me put on my floor length white Ermine coat and we headed out the front door as I waved goodbye to Buffy over my shoulder.

My mind danced with thoughts on the ride to Willow’s place and Alexander seemed to understand that I’d prefer the radio to conversation. Willow had been at the house quite often in the past week, talking with all of the staff, although it didn’t seem as though she was any closer to finding any concreate leads. She did suggest that she’d found some things that she would research further but nothing had panned out thus far and would dig further. I was getting used to seeing her around the house and she seemed to be forming a connection with the staff, mainly Buffy. And me.

Thoughts drifted to the line of reporters we would face when walking into the Gala and how I would handle the questions about Willow. I knew that there would be whispers about me being out so soon after my father’s death and whether I had time to properly mourn. Willow’s presence only complicated matters, a mysterious ‘man’ accompanying me to a highly prestigious event: Who was he? How was I involved with him? Why hadn’t he been seen with me prior to Daddy’s death? I figured that I would put a positive spin on this, tell the reporters that I knew it was best as the new CEO of Le Beau to continue on as my father would have. I hoped that they hailed me as a woman with good business sense. As for the questions regarding Willow, that was a bit trickier. I figured I’d try to be as vague as possible, giving them only bits and pieces of information. Basically, I planned on lying. They didn’t need to know the real reason to our being at the Gala and they certainly didn’t need to know of Willow’s profession … or gender. That last part had me worried though; I wasn’t sure how Willow planned on passing herself off as a man when she had such delicate elfish features.

The buildings in Willow’s neighborhood looked a bit run down and I realized I didn’t really know what type of home a Detective would live in. Alexander stopped the car in front of a brown brick building and I saw him rechecking the scrap of paper where Willow had written the address.

“Tara-Rose, I think this is it. Can I walk you in?” he asked, hesitation in his voice. I could tell why. It wasn’t a nice area of the city and he was nervous about bringing me here. I thought about it for a moment while Alexander scanned the area, I assumed to make sure that everything was safe before he allowed me to exit the car.

“You can walk me into the front hallway, Alexander. Then perhaps circle the block a few times to keep the car warm until we are ready to head to the Gala?” I asked as he assisted me out of the car and carried the tuxedo over his arm. He gripped my arm tightly, as if he were my personal bodyguard.

We walked up the few steps to a stoop and into the vestibule at the top. He handed me the tuxedo and stood at the front of the stairs, watching me walk up the stairwell to the first landing. Passing doors one and two, I stopped and knocked on the door marked three. Hearing her footsteps coming towards the door, I looked over to where Alexander stood, looking apprehensive and a bit perturbed at the thought of leaving me there. I shooed him away with a wave of my hand, insisting I was fine.

Door three swung open and Willow was suddenly in front of me, leaning her arm over her head on the thin wood of the door. Her slacks rod low on her narrow hips and she wore nothing on her torso but a sleeveless undershirt, her pert breast peeking through the thin transparent material. My mouth went dry and my eyes took in her muscular bare arms, erect nipples and lazy grin. Her arm snaked out and pulled me into the room as she kicked the door closed behind us. Shaking my head, I looked around the barren studio apartment that doubled as her office. The first thing my mind registered was there was no bed. Blushing, I shook my head at the thought, trying to shake the dirty thoughts right out of my mind. I handed the tuxedo to Willow and she hung it on the screen that separated the room in two, looking at me questioningly. I went to remove my coat but she shook her head, explaining that the room was a bit cold.

“Can I interest you in the one cent tour?” she smirked at me as I looked around. She took one step to the desk. “This is the office.” She took a few steps toward the back of the apartment, jerking her chin to the left, “Kitchen.” Jerked her chin to the right toward the small door, “John.” She walked a few steps to the right and hit the wall. “Bed.” The Murphy bed fell to the ground with a thud. Her auburn eyebrows rose slightly and I saw the wicked gleam in her eye as she looked down at the bed and then back up at me. “Would you like to have a seat?”

There was an overstuffed chair near her desk and I quickly sat down in the seat, trying to look anywhere but at her and failing miserably. “I hope the tuxedo works well for you. If we had more time, I would have sent it over to our tailor but I think you’re basically the same size as Donald was a few years ago so it probably won’t be too much of a problem. But if it is, I can always try to-“

“Doll, relax. It will be fine. Why don’t you help yourself to a drink?” she motioned to the bottle sitting on the desk next to my arm, while she moved to the other side of the screen, presumably to put on the tuxedo. I inhaled deeply, my heart fluttering, as I noticed the outline of her body through the divider pulling off her shirt. Spinning around from the screen, I looked around for a glass, in desperate need of a drink, but didn’t see any sitting out.

“Willow, where can I find a glass?” I asked, calling over the screen. I don’t know why I bothered raising my voice; it’s not like the screen did anything to break up the noise from the room. She appeared next to me, shirt undone and working the cuff links through the left cuff. She sauntered over to the small kitchenette area, took two glasses out of the cabinet above the sink. She poured us each much more than two fingers worth of bourbon and I picked mine up from the desk.

“Cheers,” she said, as she clinked her glass to mine and threw her head back, downing the entire glass in one shot. I took a tentative sip of mine, the alcohol burning its way down my throat, and I tried not to cough. My eyes filled up with tears yet again, and for the first time in a week, it wasn’t because I was sad. Willow headed back to the other side of the screen and continued to get ready as I nursed the bourbon in my glass.

“So, here’s the deal for tonight. We go, we mingle. Keep an ear to the ground and our eyes on the prize. You make your way around the room and do your thing. Mingle. Talk to the people you think might know something. Hell, talk to the people you think wouldn’t know something. We’ll meet up after a bit and compare notes.” I heard her voice floating around the screen, like she was pacing while she was talking. I heard the door to the bathroom hit the wall and her rustling around in there.

“Damn it!” she cursed under her breath and I got up from where I was perched on the chair.

Rounding the screen, I saw her standing with the bathroom door open, struggling with the bow tie. “Can I help you with that?” I asked as I made my way over to where she was. I joined her in the tiny bathroom, placing myself between her and the mirror over the sink. Pushing her hands away from the tie, I started fussing with it, pulling one side down slightly lower than the other before crossing the longer side over the shorter one. “Donald’s never really been good with bow ties so I got to practice with him when he was learning from Daddy.” I finished and straightened the tie and gave her the once over. She had slicked her hair back with Brylcreem, dabbed her cheeks with Old Spice and tweezed her eyebrows to remove the slight arch reserved for women. I was amazed at how she changed her appearance enough to look like a sheik and a blush started to form once more. If I hadn’t known better, I would have assumed she was a man, her androgynous appearance making her look like she was barely twenty one. “The tuxedo fits you well. You look really striking.”

She started to protest and I put my finger to her lips. “You should accept a compliment as it is given to you.” I felt the porcelain sink against the small of my back through my coat and the walls of the small bathroom seemed to be pushing us even closer together.

She stared at me hard for a moment and I felt her lips move against my fingertips. “Tara-Rose,” her voice held a warning, her eyes clouding over a bit as she moved her face closer to mine.

“Why don’t we stop talking, Willow?” I removed my fingers from her lips and ran them up the side of her jaw. My heart thudded wildly in my chest as I let go of all pretense. Tilting my head slightly, I willed for her to move her face closer to mine, to close the small gap that remained between our bodies.

A knock at the door broke us apart. Willow moved to run her hands through her hair until she remembered it was full of Brylcreem. Shoving them in the pockets of the tuxedo instead, she exited the bathroom and threw open the door to find Alexander standing in the doorway.

“Alexander,” it came out half greeting, half growl as Willow strode over to the desk, picked up my glass of bourbon and finished it off.

“It’s nearly 7:30, Miss Tara-Rose. We really should get you and Miss Rosenberg to the Gala,” Alexander said as he looked down, knowing he had interrupted something.

“Thank you, Alexander. We’ll be out in a moment.”

He nodded once before giving Willow a hard look and turned to go wait in the car once more. Unsure of what to say, I collected my purse from the desk while Willow put on her overcoat in silence. She poured herself a bit more of Wild Turkey and threw it back before looking over at me.

“I suppose we better get a move on,” she said, a little too casually.

“I suppose so,” I replied.

We descended the steps from her apartment to the waiting car. The ride was brief and we were at the Knickerbocker Hotel before I had much time to think any further about what had nearly happened at Willow’s or what was going to happen when we arrived. As I expected, there was a horde of reporters waiting near the front door. I stopped and spoke with them for a few moments, Willow standing by my side, holding my arm. Their questioned ranged from the standard about Le Beau, how I was dealing with my father’s death, and who was escorting me this evening. Smiling at Willow, I held her gaze as I told them that I was with a family friend, one Will Rosenberg. That was all of the information that they were going to get from me and they seemed satisfied with what I provided them.

Once inside the venue, I shed my coat, revealing my navy blue gown. The rhinestone straps felt a bit heavy on my shoulders, a contradiction to the rest of the dress which was made of light satin material. It dipped low in the back and the material fell on my curves, hugging them and showing them off. My tailor had created a small bustle with the train of the dress, which I unhooked so that it fell to the floor in a cascade. Willow had been uncharacteristically quiet and I chalked it up to her lack of experience at a formal event or perhaps her observations of everything. Handing my coat to the man working at the coat check, I noticed that Willow was assessing me with her eyes in a way that was a bit unnerving as she removed her own overcoat. I asked worriedly, “Is everything all right? Do I look okay?” Looking down, I wondered if there was a pull in my dress or if I had gotten a stain that I failed to notice.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t take off your coat at my place,” she said huskily as she circled around me.

Oh. Oh. Well, then. I flushed with pleasure.

“Doll! Tara-baby! Come here and give Rob a hug!” Robert Thurman came strutting toward where Willow and I were standing. Under my breath I whispered his name and status in the New York business world to Willow.

Rob approached and drew me close to his body. “Good to see you here, Tara-baby. We weren’t sure you’d be here, what with your father’s passing and all. God rest his soul. You holding up okay, kid?”

I smiled a smile that felt anything but real to me. Willow could see through the fakeness of it but it had Robert eating out of the palm of my hand. “I’m doing well, Rob, all things considered. Have you met Willo- Will Rosenberg?” the two ‘men’ flanked me on either side and I introduced Willow as the three of us entered the ballroom. Willow and Robert continued to make small talk while I visited the bar, getting beverages for the three of us. It wasn’t customary for a lady to visit the bar, but I figured that since I’d be entering the man’s world of business, it was important that these men see me as equal. While at the bar, I caught sight of William Pratt across the room. After giving the drinks to Willow and Robert and excusing myself, I made my way over to William.

William Pratt was a well-known character of questionable reputation in New York. He had more money than Rockefeller although it was only well known to a few how exactly he’d made his fortune. He was standing near a few of his cronies, smoking a cigar. His eyes lit up when he saw me making my way over to them, hips swaying seductively and pursing my lips.

“Hello Love! Didn’t think I’d be seeing you out and about so soon. What are you doing keeping company with Red? Don’t you know spending your time with a private dick is nearly as bad as keeping company with a copper … no matter how hot they may be.” He said with a cheeky grin, obviously seeing right through Willow’s disguise. “You ain’t here to cause trouble, are you, sweet cheeks?” he grabbed me close to his body, his hands roaming all over mine. These men certainly were all handsy.

“William, you know I’m not a troublemaker. Rosenberg is nothing more than a family friend; she told me she would escort me after my father’s passing.

“Not a troublemaker?” he questioned, his tone condescending. “Don’t you think you’re asking to be behind the eight ball coming to this venue with a dyke? People talk, love. And you hanging around a woman trying to pass herself off as a man makes for good gossip.”

“Like I said, Rosenberg is nothing more than a family friend and simply here to escort me after my father’s passing.” He seemed to accept my statement; either that or he didn’t want to debate on the topic any further. Either way, I was grateful.

“Your father was a good man, pet. Heart attack, they said? May he rest in peace!” he picked up the glass of scotch he had resting on the table next to him and raised it in a toast to my father. I saw Willow across the room, watching my interaction with William as she conversed with Rob.

“Yes, I do miss him quite a bit. It’s been a very rough week,” I lingered, not sure how I could possibly bait him into telling me if he knew something more about my father’s passing. “It came as such a shock, being that he was in such good shape and good health.”

“Well, we’ll all miss him, that’s for sure. He was a good man, always on the up and up. Never looked down at nobody. He will be missed.” William wasn’t giving me anything except empty compliments about my father. While it was all very nice to hear, it was a waste of my time. I thought about getting another drink or another graceful way to exit the conversation when he turned to the man on his right and asked if we had met.

“Parker Abrams, have you met Tara-Rose Maclay? She’s taking over Le Beau Cosmetics.” It wasn’t necessary to tell him of my father, I could tell by Parker’s expression that he already knew all about his death. Bingo! Maybe this fool would give me something Willow could work with.

“Very nice to meet you, Mr. Abrams.” I put out my hand to shake his and he used the connection to pull me in close to his body.

“Very nice to meet you, Tara-Rose,” he said as he took hold of my arm and started walking with me.

William looked over as we started to drift away from where he was standing. “Oh, and sweets? If you ever find out that something went down with his death that wasn’t legit, you just let me know.” He cocked his eyebrow upward as he squared his jaw. “You understand me?”

Parker steered me away from William and the rest of the men we were standing with. He continued leading me away, past the other Gala attendees. I was a bit alarmed, but I figured it was all in the name of detective work. “I was wondering how you are doing since the untimely passing of your father.”

I felt a bit unnatural speaking about something like this with someone I didn’t know. I gave the standard answer, “it’s been a difficult week but I have close family and friends that are helping me through this tough time.” Perhaps from my tone he could understand that I didn’t consider him to be included in that group of people.

His arm was slung over my shoulder and he ran a fat finger along the strap of my dress. “Ah yes, you have a younger brother, right? Donald?” I nodded my head.

He leaned in and his breath reeked of a mixture of alcohol and cheap cigar. I tried hard not to flinch away but moved my head back so that my face wasn’t directly near his mouth. “Love the way you look in this dress,” he breathed out, the same finger running along the side of my breast. “I think I’d love it even more if I could see you out of this dress.”

My eyes widened as he tried to wrap his body around mine. My fists clenched at my sides and I knew if I could get away with it, I would punch this man in his jewels like Donald had taught me. “Mr. Abrams, I’m not sure that this is entirely appropriate.” I put my hand on his chest and playfully pushed him back, rather than using my full strength and knocking him over, which I probably could have done given how drunk he was. I tried to be cautious of his feelings and remove myself from the situation. This man had nothing to offer me about my father and everything to offer me in the way of trouble. Not the heart trouble that came along with Willow but real trouble. I finished my flute of champagne and decided to use it as an excuse to get another one and away from Parker.

“I think I’m going to go pick up another drink. Would you like anything from the bar? I could send a waiter over to assist you.” Not that he needed it, since he smelled like he’d already emptied a bar of his own this evening.

“No thank you, sweet cheeks. But make sure that we catch up later, huh? I have a room right upstairs.” He gave me a parting slap to the derriere as I walked toward the bar. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him wink at me and I shuddered. Turning back toward the bar; Willow came into my line of vision, her face contorted into an angry scowl. Afraid I had done something wrong in my Girl Friday duties, I looked up at her, a bit frightened.

“Are you insane? How could you just go off with that guy? He looked like he was planning on dragging you off and having his way with you in some back alley!” Her eyes were murderous and I could feel the heat rolling of her without even touching her.

My drink forgotten, I looked for a diversion. The band had just started playing “I’m a Fool To Want You,” the vocalist softly crooning into the microphone.

I grabbed her hand, imploring her with my eyes. “Don’t worry about that joker. He was disgusting but I could handle him. Dance with me? Please?” I didn’t even know if Willow enjoyed dancing but I was hoping this would be a good distraction and a chance to talk. Not that I had much information to share.

“Of course,” she murmured, “I should have been the one to ask you.” Picking up the train of my skirt, I found the small rhinestone bracelet my tailor had sewn to the inside of the material. Her hand rested on my waist as she led me to the center of the dance floor, before she took me into her arms.

Willow surprised me with her dancing, twirling me around the ballroom floor with ease, our movement seemingly choreographed. As we waltzed, I filled her in on Parker Abrams knowledge of my daddy’s passing while she spoke of Robert’s mentioning of Richard Wilkins falling out with my father; a business exchange gone awry.

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Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/27
PostPosted: Mon Sep 30, 2019 9:56 am 
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3. Flaming O
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How has this chapter been up for 4 days and I still get Dibs?! People seriously need to start reviewing. Especially on a great story like this one. Ugh. Anyways, I thoroughly enjoyed this chapter. I’ve been waiting to see when Spike would be added to the story, after all he’s like the ultimate baddie, and you didn’t disappoint. I was also really surprised to see Parker Abram added to the mix. He’s not normally represented in W/T fanfics or none that I’ve read anyways and his character in this is not that far off from that of the show as he’s still a major Skeezeball.

Great update. Can’t wait to read Willows POV.

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/27
PostPosted: Thu Oct 03, 2019 6:26 pm 
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Quote:
Door three swung open and Willow was suddenly in front of me, leaning her arm over her head on the thin wood of the door. Her slacks rod low on her narrow hips and she wore nothing on her torso but a sleeveless undershirt, her pert breast peeking through the thin transparent material.


Yowza. Hello heart palpitations. :drool

Quote:
Love the way you look in this dress,” he breathed out, the same finger running along the side of my breast. “I think I’d love it even more if I could see you out of this dress.”


I didn’t like parker iN the show (preying on naive freshmen) and I definitely don’t like him here (preying on a morning Tara) :angry keep your damn hands to yourself wandering hands are soley meant for Willow.

Quote:
Her hand rested on my waist as she led me to the center of the dance floor, before she took me into her arms


See! Willow hands only

Quote:
Richard Wilkins falling out with my father; a business exchange gone awry.
[/quote]

Yikes, I’m guessing that was the paperwork and void check Willow found in his office? Wilkins is pulling into the lead for my bet on who killed Mr. Maclay. Great update. Can’t wait for Daturday.


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/27
PostPosted: Thu Oct 03, 2019 10:04 pm 
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Still loving this, I don't have too much to say I just love the general feel of the story so much, can't wait for more!

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/27
PostPosted: Sat Oct 05, 2019 11:22 am 
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*WILLOW* wrote:
I thoroughly enjoyed this chapter. I’ve been waiting to see when Spike would be added to the story, after all he’s like the ultimate baddie, and you didn’t disappoint. I was also really surprised to see Parker Abram added to the mix. He’s not normally represented in W/T fanfics or none that I’ve read anyways and his character in this is not that far off from that of the show as he’s still a major Skeezeball.

Great update. Can’t wait to read Willows POV.


I'm beyond glad that you are enjoying the story. When I first started drafting the story, I new immediately that Spike was going to be in it, like you said, he is the 'ultimate baddie' and without a doubt deserved a role. It wasn't until I was writing this chapter did I realize I wanted another "baddie" from the show, but not one that is overly played out, or even bad in the sense of demonic but just a real life horrible person ... and that's were Parker fit in! Thanks for R&R the next chapter will be up shortly.


wickedaddiction wrote:
Yowza. Hello heart palpitations. :drool


my thoughts exactly.


Quote:
I didn’t like parker iN the show (preying on naive freshmen) and I definitely don’t like him here (preying on a morning Tara) :angry keep your damn hands to yourself wandering hands are soley meant for Willow.


I'm sorry you despise the character but the fact that you dislike Parker in my fic as much as you did in the show actually means a lot to me. I wanted him to come across as a womanizer and someone easy to loath.

Quote:
See! Willow hands only


I agree with you wholeheartedly.

Quote:
Yikes, I’m guessing that was the paperwork and void check Willow found in his office? Wilkins is pulling into the lead for my bet on who killed Mr. Maclay. Great update. Can’t wait for Daturday.


You've hit the nail on the head. Mr. Maclay and R.W. had a business plan installed that went belly-up.


Quote:
Wilkins is pulling into the lead for my bet on who killed Mr. Maclay. Great update. Can’t wait for Daturday.


Hmm, I'd be interested in seeing this list and who you have ranked in the number 2 and 3 spots. Thanks for R&R! next chapter up shortly.



leftindust wrote:
Still loving this, I don't have too much to say I just love the general feel of the story so much, can't wait for more!



I'm glad you are enjoying how the story is playing out. Thank you for R&R and hopefully the next chapter does not disappoint.

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Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 9/27
PostPosted: Sat Oct 05, 2019 11:49 am 
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CHAPTER 10 - This chapter is rated R

WPOV

“It’s a good thing you didn’t take off your coat at my place,” I whispered near her ear as I circled her.

Because if you had, we never would’ve made it out of my apartment.

“Doll! Tara-baby! Come here and give Rob a hug!” I heard someone call above the noise of the crowd. Tara-Rose introduced him as Robert Thurman, a highly sought after accountant, before walking off toward the bar. Don’t expect me to remember what Robert and I talked about after the first fifteen minutes, I only took notice of how Tara-Rose caught the eye of every fella in the room as they parted to make way for her. I nodded along and pretended to pay attention to what Rob was saying, and if I were half the Detective I claimed to be, I would have been giving him the third degree. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Tara-Rose walking toward me with our drinks, a sexy confident smirk on her ruby red lips, looking as stunning as everyone expected her to. Still, apart from that dress, I liked her better natural.

That dress. My jaw clenched and a slow burn emerged in my stomach.

“Here you are, Will, your bourbon. And Robert,” she said handing us our glasses. “Now if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I see someone I must say hello to,” she said and gave me a significant look. She turned to leave and I watched her weave her way gracefully through the crowded dance floor … and away from me.

Goddamn that dress. How does she expect me to do my job when I can’t take my eyes off of her and that goddamn dress? I ground my teeth together as I realized that all my working plans for crashing this ritzy gig fell apart the moment her fur coat fell away from her.

Rob kept the chatter up without much encouragement from me, and I was able to keep an eye on Tara-Rose. She glided over to William Pratt, a well-known mob crony with whom I’ve had a few run-ins with; a real slime-ball. I watched her talk to him with a casual friendliness and saw nothing to raise my suspicion, but plenty to pique jealousy. Another lackey, whom I didn’t recognize, staggered drunkenly over to her and pulled her away from William.

I felt as though my anger had turned my eyes black as I watched him drape his arm around her bare shoulder and trace the strap of her dress with a thick, greasy finger. Enraptured, I kept watching while my fury grew by the second. His finger continued going down her side and over to barely graze the side of her breast.

“Excuse me, Rob,” I blurted out abruptly and left him mid-sentence, ditching my drink on a nearby table. I dodged the couples dancing as best I could, all while keeping my eyes on Tara-Rose and that bastard who was about to wish he hadn’t shown up here tonight. Just as I was about to break it up, I saw him slap her ass and my chest rumbled with wrath.

“Are you insane?” I said, as I came up to her, “how could you just go off with that guy? He looked like he was planning on dragging you off and having his way with you in some back alley!” It took all my control to keep my voice at a reasonable volume.

“Don’t worry about that joker. He was disgusting but I could handle him. Dance with me? Please?” she pleaded.

“Of course, I should have been the one to ask you,” I said tensely and tried to let go of the anger that was making me ball my fists. I motioned for her to follow me to the middle of the dance floor and I turned to face her. With my left hand, I gently touched her elbow, and ran my finger down the length of her forearm, catching her wrist and pulling her toward me. I took a step closer to her and brought my other hand up behind her back and to her shoulder blades, gently trailing my hand down her back until it rested on her satin covered waist. She swallowed adorably and blinked at me.

We danced for a short while longer in silence, our feet gliding over the polished dance floor in rhythm with the music. It wasn’t until the band started to sing Benny Goodman’s “Taking a Chance on Love” did I speak.

“Did wearing that dress pay off?” I murmured near her ear as we began to sway slowly back and forth.

“How do you mean?” she asked, faying innocence.

Really?

“Did you learn anything?” I clarified.

“William offered his er… services should I need them in relation to Daddy’s death,” she glanced at me to see my reaction before continuing, her tone teasing. “He also had some pleasant things to say about you. How about yourself, did you learn anything?”

I gave her a halfhearted smile at the mention of William’s distaste for me. It came with my line of work, aggravating criminals. “According to your buddy, Robert, your father had some sort of falling out with Richard Wilkins, some business deal gone awry. You know anything about that?”

“No, daddy never mentioned any of the sort,” she said puzzled. “If he had planned on taking on a new business partner he would have informed me."

I took her words into consideration and mulled them over. Richard Wilkins was starting to look like a good suspect. Locating him would be on the top of my to-do list for the following day. “I’ll check into it tomorrow,” I told her. “Did William say anything else pertinent in regards to your father?”

“No,” she replied with a terse shake of her head. “But Parker asked about Donald.”

“Parker must be that prick who can’t take a hint,” I said through clenched teeth, still fired up over the man who had dragged her away. I felt her soft little finger on my lips.

“Hush, Willow. I could use a few laughs tonight. Help me have a good time? Please?” she pleaded and there wasn’t anything I would have denied her when her blue eyes shined like that.

See, Rosenberg? There’s no way in hell you are getting out of this with your heart intact.

I pulled her closer to me and nuzzled my nose in her hair, “How is it you always smell like roses?” I whispered and took a deep breath.

“It’s perfume, silly. Le Beau of course,” she said as I slowly twirled her around once and pulled her smoothly back to me, our feet falling easily into the dance steps.

“I underestimated you, Willow. I didn’t expect you to be a dancer, or to clean up so nicely,” she acknowledged with a delighted smile.

“I’m full of surprises, Tare,” I purred, and stared directly into the blue depths of her eyes.

I didn’t expect you to be so lovely and so real.

I brought my mouth to her ear, the tip of my nose grazing her cheek along the way. “Wanna get out of here?” I murmured, my detective duties entirely forgotten.

“The sooner the better,” she whispered breathlessly.

In the limo, my fingers burned to touch her. After the days of getting to know each other better, the near kiss in my bathroom this evening and the torture of watching every man at the Gala undress her with their eyes, I couldn’t ignore that I was in serious fucking trouble. If she showed the slightest interest in me, I’d have that dress off of her so fast it would make her gorgeous little head spin … and my golden rule about not sleeping with the clients would be sleeping with the fishes.

She seemed to hum beside me, emitting an electricity that drew me like a moth. It took a lot for me not to slide closer to her. Whenever the darkness of the car was illuminated by a passing vehicle or streetlight, our eyes would meet, the expectation clearly written in her pouty lips twisted into a knowing smirk.

I wanted to be good. I wanted to be professional. So I made a vow that I’d wait for her to make the first move, but I bargained with myself that at the first sign of a green light, I would act.

The car pulled up to the estate and Alexander opened the door for us. As we entered the mansion, Buffy took our coats and every last vestige of my will power crumbled when I got another eyeful of that dress.

Buffy disappeared and Tara-Rose turned to me with hooded eyes.

“I’m going to change,” she said with a playful shrug of her slender shoulders.

Can I help you with that?

What I actually said was, “Got any Wild Turkey?”

“I think so, in Daddy’s office,” she said, daintily clutching the banister and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at me. “You know, upstairs.”

Green light if I’ve ever seen one.

I smiled, wickedly triumphant, and bowed to her, “After you,” I said. She smiled and turned to lead the way.

I untied my bow tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of my shirt as I followed her up the stairs. I let my gaze fix upon her full, perfect ass accentuated by the sway of her hips as she moved. With each sway to the left, then languidly to the right, the burning in my lower stomach grew stronger. At the top of the landing she glanced at me over her shoulder.

“Be right back,” she smiled and went towards her bedroom. After a moment the radio came on and I heard the horns of Glenn Miller’s Orchestra trumpeting “Moonlight Serenade”.

Once inside the office, I strode to the drink cart and took the cap off the first bottle I grabbed, giving it a whiff to determine its contents. Whiskey. Whatever. I didn’t care that much, I just needed something wet. I grabbed two glasses, swiped the bottle off the cart and made my way to the doorway of her bedroom.

I leaned against the doorframe with my arm raised over my head. She didn’t know I was standing there watching her. The room was dark; she hadn’t bothered to turn on the light for some reason. The only light came from the soft glow of the radio dial. She stood in front of her vanity which was littered with make-up containers and perfume bottles. Her slender frame twisted as she tried to pull down the zipper of her gown, which appeared to be very conveniently stuck.

I can help with that.

I stealthily walked into the room and moved toward the nightstand on my right. The bed was adorned with a thick, white satin coverlet, the hint of a red satin sheet peeked out at me from under the stack of pillows that ran along the headboard. And the bed was massive.

Good, plenty of room.

I smiled in anticipation as I sat the glasses and whiskey bottle down on the dark wood of the nightstand, being careful not to clink them together. I didn’t want her to know I was there yet. She was still fiddling with the zipper and growing impatient as she huffed a wisp of hair out of her eyes. I pulled my wallet from my pocket and set it down on the nightstand next to the glasses before walking toward her.

I came up close behind her and swept the heavy curtain of her hair off of her back and over her shoulder. I slid my fingertips luxuriously down her shoulder blade and towards her ribs until I felt the cold metal tab of the zipper. On the first try, I got it to slide open. My fingers sizzled as they pulled the zipper and skimmed her ribcage all the way down to her hip bone, until the zipper refused to go any further. My hand had no such constraints, and I let it rest on her pelvic bone, my fingers digging into her. I heard a low, long moan float out of her softly parted lips and she let her head fall back to rest on my chest. I brought my other hand around the front of her and found her soft cheek. With the back of my hand, I gently caressed her from her temple to her jaw. I bent my head and nuzzled my nose just below her ear and I was suddenly aware of her perfectly sculptured ass right fucking there, pressed so close to me that there was no way she wasn’t aware of the heat rolling off of me.

“Tara,” I moaned intending for it to be a question, asking her permission to go further, but instead it escaped my lips in the form of a strangled plea for her to put me out of my misery.

She turned around and looked me dead in the eye. What I saw in her gaze was every green light in New York City.

I crushed her to me with a whimper. My mouth seized upon hers, she responded, eagerly engaging my tongue that wagged a war with hers. She reached up to run her hand through my hair and pulled my head back, breaking the kiss so she could pepper my jaw with hot little kisses. My eyes rolled back in my head and I knew I was a goner. Her hands slid the suspenders off of my shoulders then began eagerly unfastening the buttons of my shirt. I worked on my cufflinks, tossing them carelessly on the floor while I coaxed her backwards and into the wall. Once I had her cornered, I pulled away from her and brought my hands to the straps of her gown. I never broke my gaze from her eyes as I slowly guided the straps down and off the sweet sloping curve of her shoulder.

Her gown fell to the floor around her ankles in a pile of billowing satin and the sight it revealed took my fucking breath away.

She wore nothing but a pair of red satin panties trimmed in thick lace, and a matching garter belt that held her stockings up.

That’s it.

I grabbed her, a hand on each cheek of her glorious ass, and lifted her up. She read my mind and wrapped her perfect legs around my waist, kissing me deeply. I kissed her back just as firmly and carried her to the vanity. I sat her down on top of it, making her perfume bottles clink together in the darkness as I ground my hips eagerly into her. She whimpered and her fingers tangled tightly in my hair. I repeated the motion with more insistence and continued to kiss her; unable to pull myself away even if I’d wanted to. I slid my hand firmly from her knee up to the top of her stocking. With a snap of my fingers, I quickly unhooked the two little straps that held the silk stocking in place and began to slowly roll it down her thigh to her ankle and off her feet. I began the process again on her other leg before I broke the kiss and moved my head between her legs, leaving a torturous trail of wet kisses down her thigh and around her knee. When I pulled the other stocking off, she leaned back, splaying her hands on the vanity and I heard the crashing of god knows what falling to the floor. She arched her back ever so slightly, jutting her tits out into the cool air, bestowing me with the gift of … herself.

I stood before her and bent my head over her chest. I ran the tip of my nose along her breast bone, stopping only to plant a single kiss right above her heart. Tentatively, I poked my tongue out and slowly trailed it down her left breast. The tip of my warm tongue skittered over her silky flesh, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake as it circled around her areola.

I felt her trembling hands pull my shirt off my shoulders and down my arms, dropping it on the floor next to us. I kicked off my shoes and pulled my socks off with my feet while her hands deftly moved from my chest and down to the cummerbund around my waist. She wrapped her luscious gams around me again, and pulled me impatiently and impossibly closer to her before reaching around my back and unfastening the cummerbund and tossing it onto the floor.

“Tare,” I whispered into the darkness and my head tilted back in rapture. I felt her delicate little fingers slowly unfasten my pants. Both her hands came to rest on my hips for a moment before she guided the slacks off of me and onto the floor. She pushed against my chest and I reluctantly pulled away from her. She stood and kissed me fiercely, coaxing me backwards until I felt the bed hit the back of my legs. I sat down expecting her to stop, but she didn’t. So I laid back and waited with bated breath to see what my Tara wanted.

Because I was too ready to give her anything she wanted.

_________________
Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/5/19
PostPosted: Sat Oct 05, 2019 1:18 pm 
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Double Dibs. Loving this story and looking forward to reading more. Thanks for writing

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/5/19
PostPosted: Sun Oct 06, 2019 10:16 pm 
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Well dayum! Can't wait for the next update!

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/5/19
PostPosted: Mon Oct 07, 2019 10:44 am 
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Quote:
I felt as though my anger had turned my eyes black as I watched him drape his arm around her bare shoulder and trace the strap of her dress with a thick, greasy finger.


Nice use of Canon in linking Willow's dark eyes. Liking this reference.



Quote:
She wore nothing but a pair of red satin panties trimmed in thick lace, and a matching garter belt that held her stockings up.

That’s it.


:thud Damn, that's hot. And I have a feeling it's only going to get steamier from here.



Fabulous work. Can't wait for the next update.


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/5/19
PostPosted: Tue Oct 08, 2019 12:25 am 
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4. Extra Flamey

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Yay for them leaving the party early to finally get intimate with each other - the detective work can wait!

I'd love to see a picture of Tara's dress which was the cause of Willow's undoing…

Quote:
So I made a vow that I’d wait for her to make the first move, but I bargained with myself that at the first sign of a green light, I would act.

Quote:
“I think so, in Daddy’s office,” she said, daintily clutching the banister and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at me. “You know, upstairs.”

Green light if I’ve ever seen one.

Quote:
She turned around and looked me dead in the eye. What I saw in her gaze was every green light in New York City.

:laugh

Quote:
She didn’t know I was standing there watching her.

I highly doubt that. I suspect we will learn from Tara's point of view that she fumbled with the "stuck" zipper on purpose waiting for Willow to "assist her"... :wink

Quote:
Her gown fell to the floor around her ankles in a pile of billowing satin and the sight it revealed took my fucking breath away.

She wore nothing but a pair of red satin panties trimmed in thick lace, and a matching garter belt that held her stockings up.

That’s it.

Wow, Tara really prepared for seduction of the detective! :drool

Quote:
I grabbed her, a hand on each cheek of her glorious ass, and lifted her up. She read my mind and wrapped her perfect legs around my waist, kissing me deeply. I kissed her back just as firmly and carried her to the vanity. I sat her down on top of it, making her perfume bottles clink together in the darkness as I ground my hips eagerly into her. She whimpered and her fingers tangled tightly in my hair. I repeated the motion with more insistence and continued to kiss her; unable to pull myself away even if I’d wanted to. I slid my hand firmly from her knee up to the top of her stocking. With a snap of my fingers, I quickly unhooked the two little straps that held the silk stocking in place and began to slowly roll it down her thigh to her ankle and off her feet. I began the process again on her other leg before I broke the kiss and moved my head between her legs, leaving a torturous trail of wet kisses down her thigh and around her knee. When I pulled the other stocking off, she leaned back, splaying her hands on the vanity and I heard the crashing of god knows what falling to the floor. She arched her back ever so slightly, jutting her tits out into the cool air, bestowing me with the gift of … herself.

I stood before her and bent my head over her chest. I ran the tip of my nose along her breast bone, stopping only to plant a single kiss right above her heart. Tentatively, I poked my tongue out and slowly trailed it down her left breast. The tip of my warm tongue skittered over her silky flesh, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake as it circled around her areola.

Double :drool :drool !

Quote:
“Tare,” I whispered into the darkness and my head tilted back in rapture. I felt her delicate little fingers slowly unfasten my pants. Both her hands came to rest on my hips for a moment before she guided the slacks off of me and onto the floor. She pushed against my chest and I reluctantly pulled away from her. She stood and kissed me fiercely, coaxing me backwards until I felt the bed hit the back of my legs. I sat down expecting her to stop, but she didn’t. So I laid back and waited with bated breath to see what my Tara wanted.

Because I was too ready to give her anything she wanted.

I can hardly wait for the next chapter!

I'm a bit surprised that Tara acts so sexually confident considering that an unmarried lady of her age and upbringing "should" still be a virgin back in the 1940s, but I'm certainly not complaining!


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/5/19
PostPosted: Thu Oct 10, 2019 2:15 pm 
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taranwillow4ever wrote:
Double Dibs. Loving this story and looking forward to reading more. Thanks for writing


Thanks for the double dibs! The review on FF came up as 'guest' but I figured it was from you. :)
Next chapter will be up mid day Saturday, hope you enjoy!

leftindust wrote:
Well dayum! Can't wait for the next update!


Thank you :grin The next chapter will be up around mid day Saturday and I'm hoping you enjoy it just as much. Thanks for R&R


wickedaddiction wrote:
Nice use of Canon in linking Willow's dark eyes. Liking this reference.


I'm stoked that that line went over well. I was a little worried it might come across as cheesy and out played.


Quote:
:thud Damn, that's hot. And I have a feeling it's only going to get steamier from here.


Let's put it this way, the window's are definitely going to fog up during the next chapter.


Quote:
Fabulous work. Can't wait for the next update.


Thanks for R&R. The next chapter should be up around mid-day Saturday. Hope you enjoy!


Will's redemption wrote:
Yay for them leaving the party early to finally get intimate with each other - the detective work can wait!


I thought so too, the girls definitely needed a little 'alone time'

Quote:
I'd love to see a picture of Tara's dress which was the cause of Willow's undoing…


I am not a good drawer, but if I get the time, I will try and sketch you a picture of what I see in my head .... but I can't make any promises that it won't come out looking like a stick figure wearing a triangle. :ashamed

Quote:
I highly doubt that. I suspect we will learn from Tara's point of view that she fumbled with the "stuck" zipper on purpose waiting for Willow to "assist her"... :wink


Quote:
Wow, Tara really prepared for seduction of the detective! :drool


Hey, a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do :wink .... okay, she miiiiight be a bit of a tease and new exactly what she was doing.



Quote:
Double :drool :drool


clean up on isle 2! :laugh

Quote:
I can hardly wait for the next chapter!

I'm a bit surprised that Tara acts so sexually confident considering that an unmarried lady of her age and upbringing "should" still be a virgin back in the 1940s, but I'm certainly not complaining!



I don't recall if I've said what their ages were yet, but I have Tara around 26 years old, and although unwed, she is not a virgin. In the next chapter, it talks very very very briefly about a past courtship.

Thanks for R&R! I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

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Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


Last edited by mmmh-Hot-Sauce on Sat Oct 26, 2019 9:57 am, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/5/19
PostPosted: Fri Oct 11, 2019 8:34 am 
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3. Flaming O
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Ha-cha-cha! Things are getting steamy!

I love this chapter, but that doesn't really surprise me. I also love how you converted William/Spike and Parker into gangster-style guys because that of course, in my mind, is the epitome of 1940s NYC. I thought William was going to (*insert the God Father: Don Vito Corleone voice here*) make Tara an offer she couldn't refuse. :laugh


;) cannot wait for the next part...

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/5/19
PostPosted: Sat Oct 12, 2019 10:18 am 
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6. Sassy Eggs
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*WILLOW* wrote:
Ha-cha-cha! Things are getting steamy!


:whip

Quote:
I love this chapter, but that doesn't really surprise me. I also love how you converted William/Spike and Parker into gangster-style guys because that of course, in my mind, is the epitome of 1940s NYC


I thought they would both fill the mobster part perfectly. In my mind, I see Spike in a black with white pin stripe suit, a white shirt with black tie, and a black fedora.

Image


Quote:
cannot wait for the next part...



coming up shortly. Thanks for R&R!

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Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/5/19
PostPosted: Sat Oct 12, 2019 10:35 am 
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WARNING: this chapter is rated NC17. Viewer discretion is advised.


CHAPTER 11

TPOV

Before Willow, I had only been with one lover, if you could call it that. I wasn’t in love with him, nor did I think he was in love with me. Society seemed to have forced us together. Pressuring us to conform to stereotypical norms and fulfil our civic duties as man and woman. Wesley Windom Price had been sweet and kind and when we bedded, had been slow. Gentle. Considerate. Treating me as much as a lady in the bedroom as he had in the streets. It wasn’t what I had anticipated sex to be.

It had been quick.

It had been mediocre.

It had been boring.

Willow was not boring. Willow was anything but boring. I knew this from the moment I saw her at the diner. Confirmed it while she held me as I shed tears for my father. Unable to deny it when she told me here name. And now, couldn’t resist it when we danced at the Gala.

She was everywhere. Surrounding me and spurring me on with her hands, and body on every part of my body. In my life, I had never felt so wanted … or so overpowered before.

I liked it. I wanted it.

The slow burn that had been building between us the entire week had finally ignited. It was obvious we were both about to be consumed. Apparently the dress I had picked for the Gala called to her, making her abandon ship and jump toward the rocks. I felt powerful for being able to do that. In that moment, she was mine to control. Sure, most believed that they had the upper hand when it came to me. Not just in the bedroom or the workplace, but everywhere. I liked to make them feel like they did, like they were in control. But usually? I was the one manipulating things. The control was all mine and they did my bidding without even realizing. I had always had a keen understanding of my sexuality, my power over others. I used it to my advantage and made it work for me. My past paramour didn’t know how to tame me and he sure as hell didn’t make me feel like this. She brought out in me feelings that had lain dormant for so many years; my true feelings never allowed to be exposed for fear of rejection from my father and bringing shame to the family name. But she sparked something in me. Something I didn’t want to keep hidden any further.

To bed this woman was dangerous. Our personalities were both strong and overpowering, two fighters battling to see who would come out on top. From the moment we locked eyes in the diner until we locked limbs on the dance floor, it was apparent that we would ultimately battle in the bedroom. We fought for control and I was winning and losing, all at the same time. She was a delicious challenge, one that made me want to work my best to make her mine. She didn’t seem like she was one that would easily be owned, which made me want her that much more.

I pushed her back onto the bed and slid up and over her body. My eyes roamed over her and took in everything. Her dilated eyes, cocked smile, crimson cheeks and her ragged breathing. I shall be on top. I smirked down at her, leaning toward her face and tracing the line of her jaw with my tongue. She let out a low moan, grabbed my hips and started to twist her pelvis in an effort to flip me under her, but I had the upper hand. I encircled her wrists with my fingers and brought her hands up over her head, delighting in the shocked expression that danced across her face as I pinned her to the mattress. I trailed my hands lightly down her arms as my greedy fingers searched for the edge of her undershirt. Once found, I tugged at it, desperate to be rid of the thin layer of fabric separating us. I let her up just enough for me to work it up her torso and over her head, pressing myself against her the moment her skin was bare, relishing in the feeling of her naked chest pressing against mine. While I had my arms over her head, her mouth lowered and caught my left nipple. She nibbled lightly on it with her teeth before peppering it with kisses. Wanton moans escaped my mouth and, if I hadn’t been so caught up in the moment, I might have blushed. I’d never felt like this before. Strong and uncontrollable desire rose from deep within me. Sensing a moment of weakness, she was able to flip us. She was looming over me, eyes smoldering with want.

“So you liked the dress, hmmm?” I asked as her eyes watched my lips move.

Leaning forward, her lips caught mine. “I liked the dress,” she confirmed. “I like you, with or without the dress. Right now? Without.”

Her hand snaked down between our intertwined bodies and in one fluid motion, she pushed off her underwear. My panties were the only thing between us and we both reached toward them, hands fighting hands, fighting satin, battling to remove the last shred of clothing separating us. She was victorious as she pushed the panties down over my long legs and flung them carelessly over her shoulder. Then, slowly, cat-like, she crawled up my body. Her mouth licked and sucked the smooth flesh of my legs as she moved up my body. Her nose grazed my knee, her hot breath tingling my already sensitive skin. Clutching her hair in my hands, I wove my fingers through the mess on top of her head, the Brylcreem not able to contain it. It made my hands slick, but I was still able to grab fistfuls of auburn hair.

I expected her to continue her way up my body, worshiping me with her mouth.

However, one thing I had learned in the time I’d spent with Willow Rosenberg was that I should never expect anything.

Worshiping me with her mouth, she did. The heat of her breath hovered between my legs and I tried, in vain, to pull her up my body with her hair. The Brylcreem made that next to impossible. No one had ever done this to me before. I felt her slowly shake her head, preventing me from pulling her away. The tousled, short tuffs of hair framing her cheeks lightly grazed the apex of my legs and made my entire body tremble in anticipation.

I felt her breath, hotly whispering around me. In me. My body shook as I struggled to hold on.

“Tare, you gotta let go of that control. Let me rule you for once. Like you’ve ruled me the past week. Like you ruled me tonight in that ridiculously sexy dress,” she breathed out. Her tongue jutted out of her mouth and into the most intimate of places on my body. I gasped at the contact and, despite myself, felt my legs open wider to grant her access. Her hand ran under my left leg, thigh to ankle, and she moved it so it rested on her shoulder. Oh! She them moved the same hand down and started petting me with her fingers as her mouth continued to do things that in the past might have made me blush just thinking about.

My mind grew fuzzy and my body was growing hotter and hotter. I pulsed with the waves of pleasure brought on by Willow’s mouth. Her tongue moved like the waves on the shore, pushing forward and then receding, only to rush forward yet again a moment later. It was driving me wild. I grappled at her shoulders, finally able to pull her face up and off of me. I needed her. Not her mouth. Her. Tugging at her harder, she moved up the bed and laid her head on my pillows, next to me.

“Tare, I …”

I didn’t want to hear what she had to say. I certainly didn’t want her to think I was backing down from her offer. Reaching over, I placed my hand on her jaw, tracing small circles with my thumb. I watched her eyes dilate further, her forest green eyes shifting to a deep emerald green as another husky moan left her lips. With a devilish smirk, “Am I that much of a sure thing?”

Propping her head up on one hand and slowly running a finger down my side with the other, she smiled slowly. “Well, I do have you in your bed, don’t I?”

“Technically speaking, I believe I have you in my bed.” I smiled a soft smile while I looked down at her center, her lips slick with her own wetness.

“Can I …” I trailed off, not entirely sure how to ask. I hadn’t done this before. But, I reasoned, tonight had been a night for firsts. I felt the color flood not only my cheeks, but my entire body. I noticed her watching me and my blush and it only resulted in more of a blush.

She knew exactly what I wanted to do without me finishing the thought. She was gentleman enough not to make me say it, but wanton enough to show me how. Taking my hand into hers, she brought them down to her mound, showing me what to do and hissing at the touch of my tentative fingers
.
“What you do to me, Tare,” she growled as she got up on her hands and knees, hovering over me.

She pulled my legs apart and positioned herself over my right thigh, running her hands down the length of them before wrapping my left leg around her hip. Grabbing my ass she pulled me toward her, our pelvis’ touching, before positioning her hand between us and slowly pushed inside of me with a single finger. I gasped at the feeling; me consuming her, her consuming me. Joined together as one, we started to move. I could tell she was trying to go slowly, to allow my body some time to adjust to her.

I didn’t want slow. All I ever knew was going slow and that’s not what we were about. It was laughable for us to even consider slow.

I narrowed my eyes and looked up at her. “You need to move faster.”

“Always so fucking demanding,” she admonished as she added a second finger, all the while moving at a faster, more frenzied pace. Her left hand was placed on the sides of my head and the bicep in her arm was taut as she held her upper body up over me. Our lower bodies danced together, the feel of her hips upon mine and her fingers inside of me was sublime. She bought me. Owned me. Possessed me.

She moved her left arm below my back, cradling me to her and shifting her angle so that she was thrusting further into me, pleasurably harder. My senses were on overload. My body couldn’t get close enough to her and my head fell back. She attacked my neck, sucking along the exposed skin there. My breast pushed forward, demanding attention as well. She did not disappoint and bent her neck slightly, sucking and nipping at them. Her thrusting movements never slowed as our hips moved in time together.

“Fuck, Tara. You feel so good and you smell ... amazing. You always smell amazing. I can’t get enough of you.”

Faster still, we moved together. Our bodies, primal and wild, rushed toward our imminent release. I wrapped my leg tighter around her, her thrusting more forceful against my thigh as I pulled her closer to me, if it were possible. And it was, in the deepest darkest places of my being.

Then we both cried out, our lusty calls breaking the quiet of the house. My body clenched around her just before she let out a low, guttural groan, throwing her head back. She fell on top of me, exhausted. I felt as though I might float away yet the weight of her lying on top of me kept me anchored. She held me down and gave the night a feeling of reality it might not have had otherwise. I buried my nose in her hair, kissing the top of her forehead.

“I’ll be right back, sweetness. Don’t move a muscle.” She purred as she got up and made her way to the bathroom. No problem there. I don’t think I could move if I tried. After a few moments, she reappeared. Naked as the day she was born, she bent over her discarded jacket and plucked her cigarette pack and lighter from the breast pocket. After lighting up, she found an ashtray by the radio. She placed it on the nightstand, along with her lighter and cigarettes, next to her wallet and the empty glasses.

“Now, I’ll be right back,” I said, as I quickly headed to the bathroom, watching her settle onto the bed over my shoulder. Running the water in the sink basin, I pulled my hair back and quickly washed my face. Smiling, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I had never felt so alive.

I quickly finished in the bathroom and considered throwing on the silk robe that hung on the back of the bathroom door. Instead, I walked out of the bathroom, both body and face naked. I watched her watching me walk toward the bed; her smile widened as I drew near and she said, “There’s my Tare,” almost to herself. She made room for me on the bed once more, but only enough that I could lay down flush against her. My skin against her equally overheated flesh. I settled in next to her and she took a long drag of her cigarette. Reaching over, I took the cigarette from her hand. Gazing at me questioningly, I could tell she was perplexed, until I took a puff of the cigarette myself. Slowly I drew the smoke into my lungs before pushing it out of my mouth.

“You want one?” she offered, starting to move off the bed to get the pack.

I tugged her arm back, not wanting her to be anywhere but right there beside me. “No, I like yours.” Handing it back to her, I rested my head on her chest, listening as the rhythmic beat of her heart matched with “You Belong to My Heart” playing on the radio. “You’re staying, right?” I asked drowsily, as I snuggled into her arm.

“Nowhere I’d rather be, Tara-Rose.”

Satisfied, my eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep.

_________________
Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/12/19
PostPosted: Sat Oct 12, 2019 1:50 pm 
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Double :eatme :banana Dibs :bounce

Quote:
I pulsed with the waves of pleasure brought on by Willow’s mouth. Her tongue moved like the waves on the shore, pushing forward and then receding, only to rush forward yet again a moment later.


Quote:
Faster still, we moved together. Our bodies, primal and wild, rushed toward our imminent release. I wrapped my leg tighter around her, her thrusting more forceful against my thigh as I pulled her closer to me, if it were possible. And it was, in the deepest darkest places of my being.


I loved the whole bit, but these two quotes really got to me. They created a visual sense within the writing.
Loving this story.

TW4E

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/12/19
PostPosted: Sun Oct 13, 2019 1:27 pm 
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Freakin' awesome!

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/12/19
PostPosted: Mon Oct 14, 2019 1:10 am 
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:drool :drool :drool (Another job for the clean-up-crew, lol!).

As much as I loved the smut, those bits afterwards resonated with my heart:

Quote:
She fell on top of me, exhausted. I felt as though I might float away yet the weight of her lying on top of me kept me anchored. She held me down and gave the night a feeling of reality it might not have had otherwise. I buried my nose in her hair, kissing the top of her forehead.

Quote:
I tugged her arm back, not wanting her to be anywhere but right there beside me. “No, I like yours.” Handing it back to her, I rested my head on her chest, listening as the rhythmic beat of her heart matched with “You Belong to My Heart” playing on the radio. “You’re staying, right?” I asked drowsily, as I snuggled into her arm.

“Nowhere I’d rather be, Tara-Rose.”

:flower
I hope Willow will really stay until Tara wakes in the morning and not leave out of fear they might be "caught" by Buffy and that could lead to some awkwardness.

Now I'm looking forward to Giles' first personal appearance. Maybe he and Jenny read in the newspaper that one "Will Rosenberg" accompanied Tara to the Gala and will visit Tara to talk about that?


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/12/19
PostPosted: Wed Oct 16, 2019 4:53 am 
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2. Floating Rose
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Ok, gotta tell you, this made my day... i gotta go back to work and this just made me happy


Quote:
I walked out of the bathroom, both body and face naked. I watched her watching me walk toward the bed; her smile widened as I drew near and she said, “There’s my Tare,” almost to herself.


I absolutely loved this part. Keep up the great work. Can't wait for this Saturday!


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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/12/19
PostPosted: Fri Oct 18, 2019 4:00 pm 
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I was quite shocked to read that Wesley was Tara's first lover but it makes perfect sense, even if the thought of them together is unnerving. His stuffiness and bore-ish ways would obviously make a good candidate for a plausible paramore (or beard) for that time period.

Quote:
I pushed her back onto the bed and slid up and over her body. My eyes roamed over her and took in everything. Her dilated eyes, cocked smile, crimson cheeks and her ragged breathing. I shall be on top. I smirked down at her, leaning toward her face and tracing the line of her jaw with my tongue. She let out a low moan, grabbed my hips and started to twist her pelvis in an effort to flip me under her, but I had the upper hand. I encircled her wrists with my fingers and brought her hands up over her head, delighting in the shocked expression that danced across her face as I pinned her to the mattress. I trailed my hands lightly down her arms as my greedy fingers searched for the edge of her undershirt.


Damn , take charge Tara is suuuuper hot.


Quote:
“Can I …” I trailed off, not entirely sure how to ask. I hadn’t done this before. But, I reasoned, tonight had been a night for firsts. I felt the color flood not only my cheeks, but my entire body. I noticed her watching me and my blush and it only resulted in more of a blush.

She knew exactly what I wanted to do without me finishing the thought. She was gentleman enough not to make me say it, but wanton enough to show me how. Taking my hand into hers, she brought them down to her mound, showing me what to do and hissing at the touch of my tentative fingers


:drool :drool Looks like there's gonna be another cleanup on aisle 2!

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/12/19
PostPosted: Sat Oct 19, 2019 8:02 am 
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6. Sassy Eggs
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taranwillow4ever wrote:
Double :eatme :banana Dibs :bounce


You're enthusiasm for Dibs always makes me smile.

Quote:
I loved the whole bit, but these two quotes really got to me. They created a visual sense within the writing.
Loving this story.


Thank you TW4E Trying to keep up with the visual without being too lewd was challenging but I'm glad you liked the imagery that was created. Hopefully you enjoy the next chapter just as much!


leftindust wrote:
Freakin' awesome!


Thank you!!

Will's redemption wrote:
:drool :drool :drool (Another job for the clean-up-crew, lol!).


they are on standby with a mop and bucket. lol

Quote:
As much as I loved the smut, those bits afterwards resonated with my heart


You know it's real love when all you want to do is be mushy afterwards with the person lying next to you :kiss1


Quote:
I hope Willow will really stay until Tara wakes in the morning and not leave out of fear they might be "caught" by Buffy and that could lead to some awkwardness.


Willow's not a bed hopper in this situation. She made a promise to Tara and she plans on keeping it.

Quote:
Now I'm looking forward to Giles' first personal appearance. Maybe he and Jenny read in the newspaper that one "Will Rosenberg" accompanied Tara to the Gala and will visit Tara to talk about that?


I got to be honest, I'm not much of a Giles fan, so he really isn't in this story other than referenced by a third party every now and then. If I can think of a story-line suitable for a sequel, I'll try and make Giles and Jenny main characters... or at least have a bigger part. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!

wickedaddiction wrote:
Ok, gotta tell you, this made my day... i gotta go back to work and this just made me happy


Glad I could help out making your work day just a bit more tolerable.


Quote:
I absolutely loved this part. Keep up the great work. Can't wait for this Saturday!


Who wouldn't want to see Tara's beautiful bare face .... or body :wink


*WILLOW* wrote:
I was quite shocked to read that Wesley was Tara's first lover but it makes perfect sense, even if the thought of them together is unnerving. His stuffiness and bore-ish ways would obviously make a good candidate for a plausible paramore (or beard) for that time period


It is a little unorthodox but like you said he made a good candidate for a respectful partner during that era. He's all upper class and stuffy, someone Mr. Maclay would have definitely approved of for his only daughter.

Quote:
Damn , take charge Tara is suuuuper hot.


I will agree with you on that time and time again


Quote:
:drool :drool Looks like there's gonna be another cleanup on aisle 2!


You guys are really putting my cleanup crew to work. :laugh

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/12/19
PostPosted: Sat Oct 19, 2019 9:04 am 
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Somewhat of a short chapter this week ya'll, sorry.

CHAPTER 12

WPOV

That fistful of trouble that I knew was coming had just laid me flat out on her satin covered, king sized bed. The crazy thing was I was ready to get right back up and be here punching bag.

“Now I’ll be right back,” she murmured before sauntering to the bathroom. After a moment I heard the water running through the pipes.

I sat upright on the bed, my back resting on a mountain of creamy slick satin pillows, and lazily enjoyed my smoke, which always perfectly complimented the after effects of really fucking good sex. A few minutes later, I heard the water shut off and my eyes flew to the bathroom door, where she emerged, gloriously nude and completely free. She’d washed off the mask of make-up that, at first, had tricked me into thinking that she was average in all the ways that mattered.

“There’s my Tare,” I said as she crawled back into the bed and draped herself next to me. Once she was comfortable, she plucked the cigarette from my fingers and took a long pull. I’d never seen her smoke until that moment, and I was distracted by the way her full lips caressed the thin white paper as they puckered sinfully around the thin cigarette.

“You want one?” I offered and started towards the pack. Because I can watch that all night.

“No, I like yours,” she said and pulled me back down. I smiled at her confession despite myself. She handed the cigarette back to me and settled herself pleasantly against me, her head resting on my chest.

“You’re staying, right?” she asked, half sleepy, half hopeful.

“Nowhere I‘d rather be, Tara-Rose,” I promised and she snuggled closer. It wasn’t long before I heard her, very softly and very adorably, snoring.

As I reached over and tapped my cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, I wondered why I wasn’t looking for an excuse to escape her bedroom. I didn’t usually bunk with dames; it set … expectations. But Tara-Rose wasn’t the average girl either. When we had first met, I’d pegged her wrong. I’d assumed she was like so many other beautiful girls, all looks and no substance. No smarts. No spirit. They had been boring. Boring on a date and really fucking boring in the sack.

Tonight confirmed what I had begun to suspect all week, that Tara-Rose wasn’t just any dame.

Tara-Rose was a woman. With heart and brains and looks, a deadly, heartbreaking combination to be sure.

And fucking demanding, don’t forget that, Rosenberg. I chuckled, remembering her complaint that I wasn’t screwing her fast enough.

I smiled again, recalling when she climbed on top of me and pinned my hands to the bed. She wanted it, and she wasn’t afraid to show me exactly how much. No meek, shy glances followed by inexperienced hands and cold fish served up on a platter. Not from my Tare. She burned, from the inside out; she smoldered. Even when I did things that her furious blush told me she hadn’t done before, she let go enough to let me dominate her, which I imagined is a pretty big deal for Tara-Rose Maclay. I had to admit that she had dominated me too. I also had to admit that I liked it. Tonight, we had come together and been equals. I didn’t realize it until now, but we had been equals all along, too similar in nature to be anything else. Both strong-willed and used to getting our way.

She certainly had her way with me. I smiled and took a long pull on my smoke.

While I was being honest with myself, I might as well admit that I liked her; I was dizzy for this dame. I liked her perfume and her courage. I liked her honesty and her flirty little dresses that drove me absolutely and irrationally wild. But above all of that, I liked having her around. She calmed my temper and anchored me, and I knew I could use more of that in my life.

She played her part at the Gala perfectly and proved she could handle herself with calm grace which was more than I could say for my own behavior this evening, and I had to admit I was proud of her. She’d gotten some information that might be helpful, but I didn’t want to mull it over now and ruin the moment. Tomorrow, I bargained with myself as I snuffed out my cigarette. When I reached toward the ashtray, I disrupted her sleep and she moved to turn her back to me. I lifted the satin sheet off my hip and slid down beside her, her back to my front. With one finger I pulled a few stray curls of her hair off of her neck and around to her back. She sighed contentedly and I brought my lips to her bare shoulder as I wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Goodnight, Tara,” I breathed against her skin before kissing her shoulder softly and laying my head on the satin-covered pillow beside hers. Within minutes, the scent of roses and the radio playing “Stardust” lulled me to sleep.

I woke up the next morning, alone, and it was really bright as the morning sunlight lit up her white bedroom. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked around expecting to see Tara-Rose somewhere, but my gaze was met with nothing but a big, empty, cold bed.

I threw the satin sheet off of me and stood up with every intention of getting dressed, but then I remembered all I had to wear was that stupid fucking tuxedo. I groaned as I started plucking my carelessly disrobed garments off the floor and putting them on. I left the cummerbund on the bed for Tara. I didn’t need it at the moment and I might as well leave it here. I planned to come back later today to return the tux. Once I got home and was able to change into my own clothes after a nice long shower.

I went to the nightstand, picking up my pack of Lucky Strikes. I shook one out and lit it while I scratched my head and I looked around, wondering where in the hell I threw my cufflinks.

Only one way to find them, I sighed, as I dropped to my knees to begin the search.

I felt like an idiot, crawling around on all fours like a dog, pawing through the thick shag of the white carpet, hoping to find both my little silver Rosenberg crest cufflinks. I vaguely recalled tossing them somewhere close to the wall, somewhere between pinning her against it and helping her loose that damn dress. My mouth twisted into a smile at the memory of her hands tangling in my Brylcreem coated hair and her surrender to me, before forcing me to surrender to her.

Wouldn’t be opposed to an encore of that performance.

“Are you looking for something, Miss. Rosenberg?” I heard Buffy ask from behind me. I was too busy thinking about Tara to notice that she had entered the room.

I ran my hand through my hair and grinned at her. “My cufflinks,” I admitted.

“And you think they might be on the floor?” she asked innocently as she got down on the carpet beside me and smiled. Wise girl. A maid who knows when to turn the other cheek and not ask questions was worth her weight in gold.

“I think they might be,” I confessed and winked at her. She stifled a laugh and we resumed the search. Within a few minutes, she had found one by the vanity, and I had found the other near the wall in the corner of the room.

“Maybe the nightstand would be a safer place for these,” she hinted as she dropped the one she found in my hand.

“Thanks, I’ll try to remember that. Where’s Tara-Rose?”

“She’s at breakfast, with Mr. Donald,” she answered.

“Thanks, Buffy, you’re a doll,” I said and smiled genuinely at her before she went back downstairs.

A good egg, that one.

I went back to the nightstand to retrieve the rest of my personal effects. I knew I wasn’t going to see much of Tara-Rose today. My detective duties sorely needed my attention, but I knew that she, and last night’s events, would be on my mind all day. For some unfathomable reason, I wanted her to think of me, too. I drew out two smokes from my pack and laid them on the nightstand for her. Even if she didn’t think of me, my thoughts of her luscious lips wrapped around my Lucky Strike would be enough to keep me … motivated.

I left the bedroom to make my way to the breakfast table. As I approached the dining room, I could hear a male voice tinged with a tone of concerned suspicion. I stepped into the room, eyeing the young man with honey blonde curls, a youthful, barely there beard and dark blue eyes: I could only assume this was Donald. With her back to me, I purposely walked closer to Tara than was necessary, my hand discreetly rising to brush my fingers over her forearm which was concealed by the table. I felt her stiffen under my touch and I pulled away, searching her face for any sign of trouble as I side-shuffled a few inches away toward the nearest vacant chair. She looked … uncomfortable, perhaps even annoyed?

“Donald, I’d like to introduce you to Miss Rosenberg,” she said and nervously wrung her hands.

“Nice to finally meet you, Donald, thanks for loaning me the tux,” I said and stuck my hand out in friendship. He hesitated for a spit second, eyeing my hand contemptuously, before meeting his palm with mine and shaking vigorously.

“If you want, you can keep it,” he returned, his tone less than warmly. “I outgrew it years ago,” he continued, and took his seat again. “So, you’re a Detective, Tara-Rose tells me. Must be an interesting line of work; especially working a man’s job and all.”

I ignored the slight dig and started to pull out a chair as I answered him. “It can be interesting, if the clients are interesting,” I said and glanced at Tara, but before I could sit down and serve myself a big helping of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast steaming on the table in front of me, Tara-Rose spoke up.

“Shall I have Alexander drive you home, Miss. Rosenberg?” she said coolly, as she served herself another portion of fruit salad.

Miss Rosenberg? What the hell?

I got the hint that I was being dismissed and pushed the chair back into its spot under the table. “No thanks, Tare, I’ll grab a cab,” I said. I had no desire to duke it out in a silent cockfight with Alexander from the backseat of the limo.

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged carelessly. “Buffy, would you please get Miss. Rosenberg her coat and call her a cab,” she requested, as if it were an everyday occurrence. She cast her eyes down to the table, picking up her coffee and taking a big unladylike gulp.

Uh-huh … that’s what I thought, I smirked. I should have realized it would be awkward for her, my meeting Donald under these circumstances.

Once she pulled the cup away from her lips, I put my finger under her chin and tilted her face up, forcing her to look me in the eye.

“I’ll be seeing you, Tara. Sooner rather than later,” I promised with a murmur. I winked at her and I didn’t give her a chance to reply. I simply turned on my heel, stopped to take an apple from the fruit bowl and left, shouting over my shoulder, “I still need to talk with you Donald.”

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Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


Last edited by mmmh-Hot-Sauce on Thu Oct 24, 2019 7:53 am, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Honeysuckle Rose - Update 10/19/19
PostPosted: Sat Oct 19, 2019 6:30 pm 
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2. Floating Rose
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Dibbidy Dib Dibs!

Quote:
I felt her stiffen under my lips and I pulled away, searching her face for any sign of trouble. She looked … uncomfortable, perhaps even annoyed?



Noooooooooooo not the morning after brush off! Anything but that! GAH


Quote:
“I’ll be seeing you, Tara. Sooner rather than later,”


:applause Now there's an exit. I'm glad Willow's not letting Tara off the hook so easily. Looking forward to Tara's POV.


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