CHAPTER RATING: R
Chapter 10
February
Just A Touch Of Your Love Is Enough To Take Control Of My Whole Body
Willow awoke to a stream of light as her curtains were thrown open and allowed in the morning sun.
She sat up, groggy and confused, and finally made out the figure of her mother when she brought a hand up to shield her eyes from the bright intruder. The only thing she wanted shining that brightly at her this early was Tara’s smile.
“What are you wearing?” Sheila’s stiff voice asked as she moved over to Willow’s closet and began looking through it.
Willow looked down at her Insect Reflection t-shirt, although technically it was Tara’s. Her one, with the cool rip, was folded away to be worn to Tara’s shows. The one Willow was wearing was one she had talked Tara into giving her as a ‘replacement’, that just happened to smell like Tara and was fitted to Tara’s body and so was the clothing equivalent of a Tara-hug.
“It’s a t-shirt, mom,” she answered gruffly, though a quick glance by her mother made her drop the tone quick.
“You have proper nightwear to wear to bed,” Sheila scolded and Willow just rolled her eyes.
Well, she thought about it.
“Can I ask what you’re doing?” she enquired politely, dropping her chin discreetly to inhale from her shirt.
“Picking out what you’ll wear to the club today,” Sheila replied airily.
Willow sat further up, sharply.
“What?”
“Pardon,” Sheila corrected with a click of her tongue, “I told you, Willow. We’re meeting up with the Babcocks at the Valentine’s Day brunch.”
Willow’s eyes widened.
It’s Valentine’s Day??She then registered the rest of the sentence and withheld a groan.
Shit.“Do I have to go?”
“Yes,” Sheila replied in a way that it was obvious no more complaints would be entertained.
Willow’s brow furrowed.
“Wait, I thought you and Dad were leaving for Canada today?”
“This evening, yes,” Sheila nodded, “We’ll continue on to the airport after.”
“And abandon me there?” Willow asked, unsure whether to be annoyed or hopeful.
“Don’t be ridiculous, we’ll call you a car,” Sheila said, shaking her head.
Willow sighed.
At least I’ll still have time to change before Tara’s show.“Can I pick my own clothes?”
Sheila responded by laying out a denim dungaree dress and long-sleeved white top.
“Wear this. Be ready for noon.”
She left without another word and Willow silently seethed.
Eighteen years old…I am nearly eighteen damn years old.She kicked the clothes off the end of her bed and brought her knees up to her chest, pouting for a minute. She knew how that outfit looked on her and she looked like a child.
She felt like a child.
Remembering how Tara had transformed her at New Year’s, she decided it was time to transform herself.
She could show her mother she could be trusted to look presentable enough for the cronies at the club. Just because her wardrobe contained lots of bright yellows and fuzzy pinks didn’t mean she couldn’t try for something a little more elegant. She’d never even been given the chance. So she decided to take it instead.
Her mom would just have to deal with it.
A plan started to form in her mind.
She checked her watch.
She should have just enough time, as long as she was quick and wasn’t too fussy.
She jumped out of bed, dressed in some old clothes, grabbed her wallet and snuck out the back of the house.
As long as she wasn’t delayed, her parents would never even know she left.
She hurried to the mall where there were no less than three generic chain hairdressers. Willow chose the one that was the least full and got seated almost immediately after refusing a wash. This was an in and out job.
“Cut it all off!” she announced heartily as the young man who was to cut her hair stood behind her.
He arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
“All of it?”
Willow’s eyes widened.
“Oh, well…” she replied sheepishly, “Not…all of it.”
She brought her hand to just above her shoulder.
“Maybe like, to here.”
After a few checks that she was happy with the length, the hairdresser got to cutting. Willow’s heart pounded a little as the snips of red fell past her arms to the floor. This was the first time she’d even come to a hairdresser without it being at her mother’s instruction. She marveled at how utterly ridiculous that was as the thought floating through her mind.
Finally, the hairdresser removed her gown and held a mirror up to the back for her to look. Willow’s smile broke out across her face.
“Perfect.”
She quickly paid and left, the bounce in her step matching the bounce in her new ‘do. She walked right past Sears, past the ‘trendy’ stores where she’d probably run into Cordelia and to a store at the other side of the mall that Tara talked about but she’d never actually been to.
That was going to change today.
She approached the older lady at the register.
“Hi. I need a dress.”
The woman, wearing a dark brown, earthy dress that reached her ankles and a braid that went on forever, closed the stock book she’d been looking in and offered her attention.
“I’m sure we can help you. What is it for?”
Willow just smiled.
“For me.”
Forty minutes and no less than five dresses jostling inside store bags later, Willow dashed back across town and sneaked back into her house. It was as quiet as it ever was and she wasn’t caught even when she slammed the door a little too loudly.
She tiptoed back up to her room and laid her new dresses out on her bed. She was still smiling from ear-to-ear; she loved each and every one of them.
Some were bright, some were darker; some were plain and some had designs; some were evening wear; some were daytime; some toed the line and could be used as both but she had picked each one herself and was looking forward to wearing them.
She picked out the one she was going to wear; it was soft, long-sleeved and burgundy with paler red circles blended into the print. It was so comfortable, Willow felt like she was wrapped in a blanket.
She checked the time and had just enough to give it a quick iron before pulling it on. She resisted her brightly colored leggings and went for the black ones with the flecks of silver and a pair of grey boots that matched nicely.
She brushed through her hair again, finding it odd when the bristles touched her skin on the back of her neck. Finally, she looked at herself in the mirror and smiled.
Today was her day.
She skipped downstairs, where her parents were getting their coats on at the door.
Sheila looked at her, surprised.
“Willow, you cut off your hair!”
Willow brushed her palm over the back of her hair and over her now-exposed neck.
“It’s just a sudden whim I had.”
Sheila peered at her and Willow realized she was trying to figure out had it been like that when she woke her up.
“I like it,” she said in a reasoned tone, though still threw a discerning eye over the outfit, “That’s not what I picked out.”
“Do you not think I look nice, mom?” Willow asked, with a purposefully sweet smile.
“I think you look lovely, sweetheart,” Ira interjected and Willow beamed.
“Thanks, dad.”
“You do look nice,” Sheila added on, her tone unsure but ultimately accepting, “Well…lets go then.”
Willow grinned.
Victory.
She followed her parents out to the car and was smug the whole ride to the country club. In fact, it lasted right up until they entered the restaurant and she was reminded of where they were. For an expensive club, the place was decorated with cheap heart cut-outs and lackluster red balloons.
Worse: their dining companions.
Dickie Babcock looked about as uncomfortable in his shirt and tie as Willow would have been in her dungaree dress. She momentarily felt pity for him.
They were made to sit together at the table, exchanging sour looks and bumped elbows for the entirety of the brunch.
After their plates were cleared, Dickie’s mother Judy looked toward them with hopeful eyes, completely oblivious to the animosity between them.
“Why don’t you two go have a walk around the grounds? It’s a lovely, crisp day. Beautiful time for a stroll.”
“Oh, I’m sure Willow would love to,” Ira interjected before Willow could protest.
They both eyed each other and grudgingly stood; Dickie throwing his soiled napkin straight onto the tablecloth.
Willow crossed her arms over her chest as they walked out from the restaurant into the courtyard.
“Don’t try anything,” she said guardedly, and Dickie just scoffed.
“As if.”
“You tried to kiss me on New Year’s,” Willow retorted with a scowl.
Dickie’s top lip curled with disgust.
“My parents told me I had to ‘cause no one else would.”
Willow looked down and swallowed audibly.
Ouch.
Except someone did. A very beautiful someone.“Yeah well I’d rather be anywhere but here,” Willow shot back, “I’d rather hang out with a tarantula than with you.”
Dickie rolled his eyes, a slow and concentrated effort to make sure Willow knew just how annoyed he was.
“I don’t want to be hanging out with you either!” he said, then added on in a mutter as he kicked some dirt in front of him, “I’m missing a comic writing seminar for this. Got the ticket weeks ago.”
Willow stopped by a stone wall separating the golf course. She sat on it and looked at Dickie, surprised.
“You write comics?”
“What’s it to you?” Dickie asked with narrowed eyes.
“Jeez, nothing,” Willow said with an annoyed click of her tongue, “I was just asking.”
Dickie considered her for a few moments, then said a word that barely left his lips.
“Sorry,” he said, some internal wall dropping, “My parents think it’s stupid and I should only be drawing for architecture or cartography or something.”
Willow resisted the urge to comment on him knowing a long word. But wow, could she relate to that.
And he said sorry.
Maybe she could try to make conversation.
“What do you like to draw?” she asked, still a little cagily but with some empathy showing, “I doodle sometimes.”
Dickie leaned up against the wall, hesitated a moment, then produced his phone and pulled up some pictures.
Willow’s eyebrows lifted right into her brow. They were impressive.
“These are really good,” she said, finally, sincerely.
She brought her hand up behind her neck, feeling the ends of her hair tickle her skin.
“If you want, you can go and I’ll cover for you.”
Dickie eyed Willow suspiciously.
“Why?”
Willow looked down at the grass and the dead patches at the base of the stones.
“Because I know what it’s like to have parents you can’t be yourself around.”
Dickie seemed to perk up at the idea but didn’t move, yet.
“How do I know you’re not gonna rat me out the second I leave?”
Willow shrugged.
“You don’t. But you’d rather be somewhere else, I’d rather be alone…seems like it works for both of us.”
Dickie played it over in his mind and then made a running start, calling back over his shoulder.
“I owe you one, Rosenberg.”
“We’re leaving at six!” Willow called after him, “I’ll meet you back here!”
“Got it!” Dickie called back, already several feet away.
Willow swung her legs off the wall and contemplated what to do.
The restaurant was out of bounds; she’d be questioned why Dickie wasn’t with her.
She didn’t particularly want to stay out here, with couples lounging on the grass having picnics or relaxing after brunch.
It just reminded her that she couldn’t be like that with Tara.
And never could?She jumped down from the wall sharply, almost tripping over her boots but managing to steady herself without messing up her new dress. She smiled and shook her hair out. She was going to walk around and show her new look off to every damn person in this place.
Hours later, her shoes were making the patch of dead grass she’d jumped down onto earlier even larger as she paced back and forth.
Finally, Dickie jogged into view, securing his tie back around his neck.
Willow marched up to him, furious, and poked his chest.
“I told you six!”
“Chill, there was a creator there I got talking to,” Dickie replied with complete disregard for her anger, “My parents didn’t figure it out did they?”
“No, but my parents had to go to the airport!” Willow protested, “I had to pretend I wanted to stay here with you just so I could cover for you!”
Dickie paled.
“Oh god, they don’t think we’re,” he had to stop himself from gagging, “
kissing do they?”
Willow’s face contorted in disgust.
“Ugh, you are such an ass. Why did I cover for you? I’m supposed to be watching my—” she stopped and shook her head, “I’m going. Bye.”
She stomped off at speed.
“Hey Rosenberg,” Dickie called after her and for some reason, Willow turned around, “Thanks.”
Willow just rolled her eyes and hurried out to call a car.
Now she was late. Late, late, late. She’d had plans to go home and change and eat and leisurely get to the Bronze to get a good spot for Tara’s show, but now she’d have to ask the driver to drop her right there and step on it!
The evening Sunnydale traffic decided to toy with her and she had to jump out near the Pump and speed-walk the rest of the way, cursing under her breath. She’d spent the day bored and alone and now she might miss Tara’s performance because of Dickie Dickhead Babcock.
When she finally got into the Bronze, she didn’t even try to scope out if Cordelia or anyone else was there. She didn’t have time, not today. Especially because she could hear Tara’s sweet voice already playing out over the speakers.
She could hear her, but not see her. There was a crowd and she had to fight her way through it until finally she pushed through a group of girls ogling Nate and she could see the stage.
Most importantly, she could see Tara, hugging the microphone stand like it was a lover and singing as sweetly into the microphone as if it was too.
Tara’s face lit up in surprise and delight but didn’t break stride when she spotted Willow. She lifted her hand to discreetly wiggle her fingers in a wave. Willow’s heart leaped into her throat and she waved back, awestruck. She’d listened to Tara sing for years but it never failed to make her burst with pride.
Willow bopped along to a few songs with not a care in the world.
Her dress swayed against her legs, her hair swung against her neck and she felt free.
Her heart sped up when she spotted Tara getting her saxophone secured around her neck. Willow really did love to watch her on the sax. Nate set up a backing keyboard track and fixed a guitar over his chest.
“We’d like to end the night with a new song we’re debuting for you here right now,” he said into his microphone, shooting a look over to Tara to confirm she was ready, “This is Secret Boo.”
Willow didn’t think too much about the name, she was too busy watching Tara’s mouth close around her mouthpiece and bellow out that beautiful, sultry sound.
Tara played the opening notes, gradually slowing until Nate’s guitar beat took over fully and Tara replaced her mouthpiece with her microphone pressed up close to her mouth.
Hush, shush, quiet down
Tilt those lips, no need to frown
Covert, furtive, underground
It don’t matter, I’ll still drown
In you
Oh, in youIf Willow thought Tara was getting up close and personal with the microphone stand before, it was practically molded to her body now. The song was erotic, making the hair on the back of Willow’s neck stand up.
You…
You’re my
Secret boo
You just can’t argue
That this thing ain’t true
You might think it grew
But it ain’t nothing newWillow was entranced by Tara’s breathy voice but slowly her expression changed to confusion as the lyrics caught up in her brain.
Rooted like a willow tree
As deep in you as I can be
You call my name
You have me there
Clinging to the dirt of our affairWillow’s face suddenly fell.
Everything started to feel hot and restricting; the distinct feel of panic rising.
You…
You’re my
Secret boo
You just can’t argue
That this thing ain’t true
You might think it grew
But it ain’t nothing newTara’s head tilted back and took in a long breath, while Nate sang an elongated note.
Now…His breath hitched like he was about to launch into a fresh verse, but instead, he closed it with a grin and Tara took over the unexpected rap.
—boo I hope one day you hear me
I hope one day you feel me
I hope one day you know just how much I hold you dearly
You know you got me addicted
You know you got me afflicted
But I hold on tight to you because I know this ain’t constructed
We don’t have to broadcast it
But our thing ain’t the culprit
I’m spinning on your axis
Boo now please don’t bounce usThe crowd loved it and roared for Tara, who dropped her head for just a moment, before returning to her position at the microphone to taper off the song.
Secret boo
You make my vision skew…Tara found Willow’s gaze in the crowd and lingered.
I’m just as scared as you
But I’ll see this through
Because I—Tara winked and pursed her lips as if she was blowing a kiss.
—‘m your secret boo tooNate played them out on the guitar, while Tara caught her breath and enjoyed the praise they were getting from the crowd.
“Goodnight Sunnydale!” Nate called out and the group of girls to the side of Willow squealed.
Willow thought she was going to be sick.
Her heart was pounding between her ears and every person bumping into her felt like a steamroller about to flatten everything in her life.
She did the only thing she could think of.
She ran.
She always did.
The crowd was just as dense as it had been when she came in, if not more so, making Willow struggle to get through. She worked herself into a frenzy by the time she pushed herself through the back doors onto the alleyway behind. She put her back up against the wall and cast her eyes furtively around for anyone that might be staring at her funnily.
No one else was there, so she focused on catching her breath.
She had almost recovered, externally at least, when Tara appeared through the doors, momentarily letting out the noise pollution of the follow-up band before they banged shut again.
“There you are,” Tara said, her face bright as she practically floated over, “You look
so pretty.”
She put her hands on Willow’s neck and ran her fingers through the ends of Willow’s hair.
“This dress and your hair! I love it. You look beautiful.”
Willow stepped out of Tara’s grasp, her facial muscles tense. Tara frowned.
“Are you okay?”
Willow wouldn’t meet her gaze.
“How could you?” she asked, her voice echoing.
Tara immediately felt tiny, but she had no idea why.
“I-I don’t understand.”
“That song!” Willow wailed, although in a whisper.
“Was it the rap?” Tara asked, looking down with embarrassment and her voice grew quiet, “I knew I should never have let Nate convince me to do that.”
Willow had actually been impressed, and more than a little turned on, by the rap. That made everything so much worse.
“No!” she protested, and could see the stunned look in Tara’s eye, “You sang a song about me, publicaly! You used my name!”
Tara shook her head quickly, resolute.
“I would never out you like that. It was coded, no one knew, not even Nate knows who it’s about, honey—”
“Don’t call me that!” Willow hissed again, throwing her arms up, “You made it all, all…sexual!”
“It was a metaphor, I w-was talking about emotions,” Tara replied, a tight knot forming in her belly, “I wasn’t trying—“
“Stop! Just stop!” Willow spat and she watched Tara’s eyes crease, but not from that lovely smile that usually graced her face.
“I’m sorry,” Tara replied, her voice strained as she struggled to swallow a lump, “I would never have…I would never hurt you on purpose.”
She tried to reach out but Willow slapped her hand away and immediately regretted it. Unable to take the hurt look on Tara’s face, she turned and pounded the pavement as fast as her boots would allow, hearing Tara’s pained voice slowly get lost in the wind.
“Willow, I’m sorry!”
Willow just kept walking, her own demons screaming loud enough to drown anything else out.
Turning on the opposite end of the street Willow walked onto, another young woman was running away from her demons. Both lost in their own worlds, they didn’t realize they were on the same path as each other until they collided.
“Sorry, sorry,” Willow spoke in a winded tone, her vision hazy for a moment until it settled and she realized she recognized her bumping buddy, “Buffy.”
Buffy seemed startled to hear her name, then relaxed when she saw who it was.
“Willow,” she said, filling an awkward lull pretty quick when she noticed Willow’s ‘do, “Hey, you cut your hair. It looks great.”
Willow blushed, curling the ends of her hair between her fingers.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks. It’s new,” she said, finding herself oddly nervous to be around the person she’d known as a sister for years, “Must be on your way somewhere important.”
Buffy let out a sigh.
“Just home to mope.”
“Mope?” Willow asked voice etched with both concern and curiosity.
Buffy rolled her eyes.
“Dumped. On Valentine’s Day.”
“Oh,” Willow replied, face falling into sympathy, “I’m really sorry. That sucks.”
Buffy just nodded and despite everything, Willow hated to see her friend in pain.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she offered sincerely.
Buffy looked at Willow for a long moment, then finally cracked smiled; a mix of relief and the comfort borne from friendship.
“My place?”
Willow smiled back the same way and nodded. They walked to Revello Drive, cracking easy jokes that told of their comfortable bond but also their lack of communication in a while.
When they arrived, Buffy was pounding the staircase before the front door had even closed and Willow was following close behind.
Joyce looked up from her position on the couch, channel-surfing and brightened as the two sped past her.
“Oh, Willow, how lovely to see you!”
“Thanks, Mrs. Summers, you too!” Willow called back as she quickly ascended the stairs with Buffy, as she had so many times before and then flew by the first bedroom, “Oh hey Dawnie.”
“Hi W—” Dawn started to reply, clearly excited to see her, but Buffy pulled them into her room before she could even finish.
Buffy opened the door to her bedroom and the first thing to strike Willow was how different it looked. Buffy had changed the position of the bed, taken down all of the posters that had been there before and added in more lamps in what seemed like an attempt at ‘mood lighting’.
“You changed your room,” Willow commented a bit unnecessarily, her hand reaching across her body to grab her opposite arm, “I guess it’s been a while.”
Buffy perched on the end of her bed and nodded solemnly.
“Yeah, it has.”
Willow looked at her friend, the one who’d changed her life and high school experience so much, and just saw sadness. She couldn’t hold a grudge when Buffy’s eyes were so forlorn. She came and sat right beside her on the bed. She put her hand on top of hers and offered a kind smile.
“He must have been pretty special.”
Buffy’s shoulders slumped and she leaned her head on Willow’s shoulder.
“I thought so. I just totally fell for him.”
“What happened?” Willow asked, giving Buffy a sidelong hug.
Buffy was silent for a long moment.
“He just changed after we…”
Willow nodded along, then her eyes widened.
“Oh, OH! Wow!” she said, unable to hide the surprise, “You guys…?”
Buffy blushed and nodded.
“Yeah. I called you to talk about it but it rang out.”
Willow paused. She had seen a missed call or two from Buffy, but she’d ignored them.
On purpose.
To make Buffy see how it felt.
She felt guilty now.
“I’m really sorry.”
“No big,” Buffy replied, but her tone indicated otherwise.
“Yes, big,” Willow protested, putting her arm around Buffy’s shoulders, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. He sounds like a jerk.”
Buffy sighed and sat back up, rubbing her eyes.
“I guess I got caught up in the secrecy of it all,” she said wistfully, then further explained off Willow’s look, “He was older. It was…thrilling. I’d sneak out at night and meet in places no one would see us, like the graveyard.”
Willow’s eyes widened as much as physically possible and Buffy grimaced as she heard her own words back.
She flopped back onto her bed.
“I think I lost my damn mind,” she reasoned, shaking her head, “And somehow I think I still love him. But it just couldn’t…work. He decided to move to LA to make it hurt less, but it doesn’t.”
She made her hands blew up and looked to the ceiling sadly.
Willow lay down beside her, both on their backs, looking upward.
“Was it, um…well, I saw you hanging out with this other girl sometimes…”
Buffy covered her face with her hands.
“Oh her. Yeah, she just showed up one day. She’s the one who kept convincing me to sneak out and stuff. She was intriguing. But then she fell in with an even worse crowd. I ended up knocking her out when she tried to fight me one night.”
“You knocked someone out?!” Willow asked in disbelief, “Jeez, Buffy, no wonder you haven’t been available.”
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest.
“I guess I got caught up in the bad girl vibe for a while. The excitement, the naughtiness…the leather.”
Willow frowned.
“I don’t think the cleavage-y slut-bomb look is you, Buff.”
Buffy actually chuckled.
“I don’t think so either,” she said, turning her face toward Willow with a smile and taking a moment to appraise her outfit, “I like this look on you, though. It’s…surprisingly subdued.”
She glanced down at Willow’s feet kicking at the end of the bed.
“Are those the boots I gave you for your last birthday?”
Willow brightened and nodded.
“Uh huh.”
“I didn’t think you liked them,” Buffy admitted. She’d never seen Willow wear them.
“I did, I do!” Willow replied resolutely, “I was just…waiting for the right moment I guess.”
Buffy’s grin grew curious.
“And tonight was the night?” she prompted, raising an eyebrow, “Trying to impress someone?”
Willow’s face changed, noticeably and Buffy shot up, mouth hanging open.
“Has Xander finally seen the light?”
“No! God no,” Willow protested, feeling a wave of what could only be described as ‘ickiness’ and she wondered how she ever believed she had a crush on him.
“Someone else taken your fancy?” Buffy teased, poking Willow in the belly, “Come on, you have to tell me!”
Willow sat up against the headboard and clutched one of Buffy’s pillows to her chest.
She would have to leave, right now, if she wanted to keep getting away with this.
She couldn’t look into Buffy’s eyes and lie.
“It's complicated,” she answered finally, very aware of the passing seconds and the intent look on her friend’s face.
Buffy’s brow creased in confusion.
“Why complicated?”
Willow sighed and steeled herself.
What was happening? Was she actually about to say—
“It's complicated… because of Tara.”
Her heart was racing and she felt on the verge of puking, but she managed to keep it in so that was a plus. More tentative seconds passed as she moved between her eyes boring into Buffy’s face for a reaction, and looking away to avoid one.
“Tara?” Buffy asked, bewildered, “Your friend from across the street? You mean Tara has a crush on Xander?”
Willow’s eyes shut tight and she shook her head.
“No. Never mind.”
Buffy put a hand on Willow’s leg.
“I know I’m missing something here. Help me— Oh!”
All the air rushed from Willow’s lungs.
Why had she done this?
This was everything she was terrified of. Her mouth opened before her brain caught up as she rushed to explain.
“There's something between us. It-it wasn't something I was looking for. It's just powerful.”
Buffy stood up and awkwardly massaged the back of her own neck. She paced up and down the length of the bed and forced a cheerful tone as she processed what Willow was telling her.
“Well, there you go, I mean, you know, you have to — you have to follow your heart, Will. And that's what's important, Will.”
Willow’s gaze faltered.
“Why do you keep saying my name like that?”
“Like what Will?” Buffy asked in that same painfully chirpy tone.
Willow’s eyes stayed painfully open because if they closed for a second she’d burst into tears.
“Are you freaked?”
“What? No, Will, d—” Buffy started, then stopped herself and sighed, “No.”
She sat back on the bed and looked Willow in the eye.
“No, absolutely no to that question.”
Willow felt the sincerity and while half of her was screaming ‘panic, panic, panic’, some part of her stayed grounded and recognized she had an opportunity to release all the dark, painful thoughts she’d been wrapping herself up in all these months.
“I am,” she said, barely audible.
“What?” Buffy asked softly.
Willow very slowly, hesitantly and while shaking met Buffy’s eye.
“F-Freaked,” she replied with a tremor in her voice, “I want her but I don’t want to be…”
Her head dropped into the pillow and she started to sob. Buffy didn’t hesitate for a second, she wrapped her in a hug, as best she could in this position.
“We can’t control who we fall for,” she comforted, then added on wryly, “Or I wouldn’t have fallen for such a monster.”
A laugh broke through Willow’s tears, shocking her enough to stop them. She lifted her head and swiped at her eyes until Buffy got up and offered her a tissue.
“Thanks,” Willow said, and looked at Buffy in such a way that they both knew she meant for more than the tissue.
Buffy took both of Willow’s cheeks in her hands and smiled.
“You’re my best friend, and nothing could change that. Especially something that makes you happy. Or someone.”
Willow thought she could actually feel pressure evaporate from above her shoulders. Her negative feelings hadn’t just disappeared, but they’d lifted for that moment, and even when they pressed down again, the weight wouldn’t seem so heavy.
Buffy pressed a quick kiss on the highest center point of Willow’s forehead and released her again.
“Hey, you wanna order a pizza? All this reuniting makes for quite the hunger pang.”
“Yeah, I’d love some pizza,” Willow replied through a tearful laugh. She hadn’t eaten since brunch and the reminder of food made her stomach ache in a much better way than it had been just minutes before.
Buffy went about ordering the pizza, while Willow cleaned herself up and gathered her thoughts.
It still scared her when she thought too much about it, but there was a definite relief that the person she cared the most about in the world, apart from Tara, had embraced her after she revealed what she had considered her biggest shame.
“Pizza’s coming!”
Willow trashed her tissues and hurried back from the bathroom, the thought of the pizza making her stomach rumble.
When the pizza arrived, they sat on the floor together and dug in, catching up on some of the more minor aspects of the last few months of their lives.
After they’d gorged themselves, they lay on their backs on the floor, both quietly contemplative.
“Can I ask you something?” Buffy asked after a long time of companionable silence, which Willow enjoyed greatly.
She was so used to the lonely kind.
“Yeah,” she answered softly.
Apparently, she was an open book tonight.
“You’ve known Tara forever right?”
Willow nodded evenly. Buffy propped herself up on her elbow.
“And you’ve never dated anyone else?”
“No…” Willow replied, starting to become unsure of Buffy’s tone, “Not really.”
Buffy finally just asked what she was thinking.
“So how do you know you’re not confusing your friendship feelings?”
Willow paused. It was easier to speak like this, staring upward with nothing staring back but a white ceiling with no agenda.
“Because I wish I could tell you I was and not have to deal with…everything. I wish I could walk away. But then she looks at me and…I just…I can’t describe it.”
Buffy lay back down.
“I get that,” she sighed wistfully, “The undescribable.”
“In,” Willow corrected.
“In what?” Buffy asked with her mouth pursing, trying to figure it out.
Willow just chuckled.
“Insane, as in I must be,” she said, picturing Tara’s smile and trying to forget how they’d left things. Tara was probably furious at her for blowing up like that, she thought, “Insane for her and not in a friendship way. Because, no offense Buffy, but I never looked at you and thought your lips looked too dry and I should fix that with my own mouth.”
Willow blushed as she realized what she said, but Buffy seemed to be thoughtfully musing it over.
“And you think that about her?”
“Only once,” Willow reasoned, a wrinkle slowly growing taut in her furrowing brow, “Or twice. A day. Since we were 11.”
“What about Xander?” Buffy pressed, not to persuade, just to understand, “You’ve been crazy about him the whole time I’ve known you.”
“Xander was like a surrogate,” Willow explained, immediately feeling a sense of sadness and loss, “Girls had to like guys, so I picked a guy. I even made myself believe it for a long time. It’s so weird because if I hadn’t fixed this idea of having a crush on him as part of my life, we might not have even stayed friends and he is a really good friend.”
A melancholy breath pushed past her lips.
“Or, was. We’re not friends now after my failed seduction attempt, of course.”
Buffy nodded along, then her head turned sharply.
“Wait…what?!”
Willow sighed, turned on her side and filled Buffy in on that whole debacle. Buffy’s eyebrows grew further and further upward until they almost disappeared into her hairline.
“Damn…I really have missed a lot.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it didn’t happen,” Willow added on quickly after the story, “But…I got used to having him around, the big lug. But I daren’t face the wrath of Cordelia.”
Buffy shrugged.
“They broke up, you know.”
“They did?” Willow asked, and now that she thought about it, he hadn’t seen him hanging out of her at school, but she had been running the opposite direction any time she saw either of them.
“Like, during the summer,” Buffy confirmed, then continued in realization, “Actually, it must have been right around that time…”
Willow covered her face with her hands.
“Great. I’m sure he absolutely hates me, even though he’s way better off without Queen C. I feel like I’ll be leaving a trail of destruction when I leave for Claremont.”
“Claremont?” Buffy asked, wondering what else she missed, but was able to figure this one out in time, “Wait, you got into college?! Where you wanted, Harvey Milk??”
“Harvey Mudd,” Willow amended, smiling bashfully and a little uncertainly.
“That’s the one!” Buffy exclaimed and rolled over to throw her arms around Willow. “That’s great, Will. That’s really great.”
Willow’s shortened name didn’t sound so weird anymore.
“I’ve been slacking off so much I’ll be lucky to get a place at UCSD. My mom would be happy if I stayed local though.”
“I’ll come visit,” Willow offered, then tacked on, “If you want me too. I won’t be that far away.”
“Of course I do,” Buffy replied as if Willow was nuts to think she’d say any different. She paused and sat up, cross-legged, “I know things have been distant between us, but I don’t want that anymore.”
Willow sat up in the same way.
“It’s not your fault.”
Buffy put her hands on Willow’s pointed knees.
“Will, I miss you. And it is my fault. I've been wrapped up in my own stuff. I've been a bad friend.”
“Well, I haven't been Miss Available either,” Willow replied in an apologetic tone, “I-I kept secrets. I hid things from everyone.”
She looked down for a moment.
“I wanted to tell you, but I was so scared.”
“You can tell me anything,” Buffy replied emphatically, “I love you. You're my best friend.”
Willow looked back up, smiling in delight.
“Me, too. I love you too.”
They leaned in and embraced tightly until Willow pulled back a tad.
“Platonically.”
They both started laughing and Buffy picked up the pillow she’d been leaning on and smacked Willow with it, who giggled, feeling almost high at being able to make such a joke so freely. When they settled again, Buffy started and stopped talking a few times.
“So why aren’t you with her tonight…?” Buffy questioned cautiously, “Valentine’s…?”
Her voice dipped and Willow knew she was reminded of the very recent break-up.
“We…I…” she didn’t want to admit to how she’d acted, “It’s complicated?”
Buffy nodded in understanding.
“You know what isn’t complicated?” she said suddenly, jumping up, “Ice-cream!”
Buffy hurried off to get them a tub and two spoons but turned back at the door at looked at Willow, unusually shy.
“Will… you wanna stay over? Have a slumber party?”
Willow smiled softly. She could see the look in her friend’s eye. Buffy needed her, probably to have a good cry, and Willow had already had hers. There was only one answer, the truth.
“I’d love to.”
Tara crept slowly along the street from The Bronze, her feet dragging behind her.
She was worn out from a restless night of sleep and her guitar case was heavy on her back.
She’d run home, a mess, after Willow had blown up at her and Nate had been kind enough to drop her saxophone home, but the guitar had been left behind by accident since Nate had had to pack up by himself.
Thankfully, Tara had her name and phone number on the case and the owner of The Bronze had called her when he found it that morning. The last thing Tara had wanted was to face the world or even get out of bed, but she grudgingly dressed and headed downtown to collect it.
As she passed by the Espresso Pump, she spotted a familiar bobbing head of red hair sitting alone at a table.
She hesitated, unsure whether to go in or not, but her heart hurt too much to just walk away. It was fairly busy and Tara stood out with her guitar case on her back, but Willow still didn’t spot her until she got to the table.
“Willow,” she said softly, eyes creased with pain instead of their usual brightness. She sat at a slight angle on the opposite chair to accommodate her case and reached across the table, taking both of Willow’s hands, “Can we please talk?”
Willow took in a sharp breath as she took in Tara’s appearance. Tara always put herself together nicely but her clothes were disheveled, her hair brushed but with no care in her parting. Her eyes were red raw and she’d clearly been crying all night.
Willow frowned but didn’t move her hands away and began to return a tender look. She opened her mouth to speak but before she could, a large circular mug was placed in front of her, a little chocolate heart sitting in the foam.
“Mocha, right?” a male voice asked, his eyes slowly moving between the two women.
Willow looked up at him and felt Tara’s hands snatch away from hers.
She didn’t like it.
She really didn’t like when she realized she was usually the one to do the snatching. Was that how Tara felt when she did it to her?
She realized two sets of eyes were on her and looked between the two of them, scrambling her brain for a response.
“Right,” she said eventually to the boy, swallowing quickly as she glanced back to Tara, “Um…”
Tara felt her stomach turn. The boy was holding another mug of plain black coffee, which he took a casual sip from.
He wasn’t wearing a uniform.
Willow was not receiving table service.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—” she stammered, almost falling as she turned around herself to get up out of what seemed to be ‘his’ seat, “I’m sorry.”
The boy just nodded at her cordially.
“Hey. I’ve heard your music. I like your sound.”
“T-Thanks,” Tara replied, averting her gaze as she tried desperately to get out of there, “I j-just came in for a coffee, so I-I’ll leave you to your…”
She gestured at the table and hurried off to join the coffee line, the only dignified escape route possible. Unfortunately, there was already a few people waiting and she ended up only a foot away from them, arms crossed over her chest to hold herself in place.
At the table, Willow desperately sought Tara’s gaze out of the corner of her eye but to no avail.
“So, this is nice,” the boy said evenly, now sitting opposite her, “You. Me. Coffee.”
He’d asked to buy her a coffee when they were in line together and Willow had said yes after floundering for a moment, from years of having politeness broken into her.
“Yeah. I like coffee,” Willow reasoned and unable to take the thrum of awkwardness between them or the waves of pain she could feel in spades from Tara.
She couldn’t take it. She stood up and brought her mug with her.
“Um, I was actually going to get this to-go, so…”
The boy, sweet and affable, stood with her like this was a normal way to have an exchange.
“Maybe we could do it again…officially some time?”
Time slowed down for Willow for a moment.
Was this happening?
This was happening.
There was little to misinterpret; this boy was asking her out.
Here it was, the thing she thought she wanted most of all for so many years — and it felt empty. A boy — a nice boy, a cool boy — was asking her out and she felt…nothing. And ‘nothing’ was the opposite of what she felt for Tara.
For Tara, she felt everything.
Being with Tara terrified her, but not being with Tara terrified her more. She couldn’t do this, she wouldn’t — to either of them. It was time to take a step, even if it was just a baby one.
“I’m sorry, I’m with somebody,” she said, and actually heard the sharp intake of breath from the line, “I’m going to get them to put this in a to-go cup. I’ll… see you.”
The boy just nodded once, dejection hidden in the purse of his lips.
“Yeah, sure. Bye.”
Willow took out her wallet and the boy held up a hand, looking at her for a sincere moment.
“Please.”
“Well, um, thanks,” Willow said quickly, and moved off quickly for both of their sakes, “For the mocha. Really kind of you.”
She turned away from his desolate smile and stepped into line with Tara; their shoulders brushing together.
Tara’s heart was hammering and she was too scared to look at Willow. Her eyes stayed fixed ahead unnaturally.
Until she felt the barest hint of a pinky brush against her own. Her eyes flickered over to Willow who smiled back, a little sad but also full of sincerity.
Willow saw the lump protrude in Tara’s throat as she swallowed. She stepped in for her when they moved up in the line and the barista looked at them expectantly.
“Can I get a medium hazelnut macchiato and an extra to-go cup please?”
She paid and they took their respective cups when they were ready and headed toward the exit. The chatter and music got fainter with each step taken away from the busy street.
They wordlessly moved toward the direction of their own houses, from the main town to the quieter residential streets.
Willow couldn’t help but notice Tara sneaking glances and smiling like she couldn’t believe they were walking together each time their eyes connected.
Why had Willow never
seen that before? She’d looked and watched and witnessed those looks for… for years when she actually thought about it, but she’d never appreciated the entirety of what it meant.
If I can make someone else that happy, why can’t I make me that happy?When they were on an abandoned, sleepy street with no one else around, Tara brought up a hand to shyly tuck some hair behind her own ear.
“Um, about—”
“That was nothing,” Willow cut in quickly, splaying a hand out in front of her and shaking it from side to side indicatively, “He just arrived at the same time as me and asked to buy me a coffee and my brain spazzed for a moment. It really was nothing, really.”
She did the sneaky glance this time and made sure their eyes locked.
“I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Tara swallowed and Willow watched relief flood her face. It brought back her guilt and she began to wring her hands around her coffee cup.
“I was actually on my way home from Buffy's. I was gonna bring you a coffee as a peace offering.”
Tara stopped, her eyebrows rising closer to her hairline.
“Wait. You guys hung out? That's great, I'm so happy for you!” she said, flinging her arms around Willow, then pulling back sheepishly and falling back into step with her, “I, um, I know you’ve missed her.”
“Yeah,” Willow said, smiling softly as her breath caught a little from Tara’s embrace, “Yeah, it was good. It was…good.”
Tara nodded agreeably but her fingers kept tapping her cup.
“Before, I, um…I actually meant about last night.”
“Tara,” Willow started, taking in a deep breath, “Tara, I’m so sorry. For how I acted. You didn’t deserve it.”
Tara quickly shook her head.
“I should never have sung a song about you without checking with you first.”
“No, I overreacted. I got scared but I should have just talked to you,” Willow pressed, then smiled to herself, “It’s really flattering actually. The first song I’ve ever had written about me.”
Tara looked down bashfully.
“Not the first.”
Willow smiled slowly with a hint of intrigue. They fell back into silence for a while, both in their own thoughts.
“Tara?” Willow said eventually, her voice echoing softly.
Tara looked in her direction and Willow spoke again, only loud enough to be a whisper on the wind, between them and nothing or no one else.
“Wait for me?”
Tara felt Willow’s pinky fully curl around hers and her heart soared as high as it had ever been.
“Forever,” she answered without a beat, holding Willow’s pinky in place.
Willow’s heart fluttered and she looked at Tara, who just smiled and held their fingers tighter together.
Willow squeezed back in the same way and just gazed at her from the side.
This was the most Willow had ever allowed herself to feel everything
Tara outside of their bedroom walls. And it was nice. It was really, really nice. She couldn’t stop smiling.
They walked on the road instead of the sidewalk and stopped between their houses, neither wanting to part.
“My parents are out of town,” Willow said, trying not to fidget with the lid on her cup, “Do you want to come inside?”
“I’d love to,” Tara answered simply, but full of joy.
Willow brought them over to her house and inside and felt oddly awkward as if she’d never had Tara in her home before.
“Um, do you want a different drink or anything?”
“Oh, no, I’m good,” Tara replied, waving her half-full cup of coffee, “Actually can I use the bathroom?”
Willow finally snapped out of it; it was Tara, for god’s sake.
“Yeah, of course, you know where it is. Here, I’ll take your cup.”
She took Tara’s cup and watched her go up the stairs. Very definitively watched a certain part of her sway with each step.
Her cheeks reddened, but she didn’t look away until Tara’s body curved out of sight. Willow looked around and wondered whether to go into the living room, but that was still a little bit too public to the street outside, at least for the smooch or two she planned on stealing. Curtains closed during the day was suspicious.
She skipped upstairs to her bedroom.
“Will?” Tara’s voice called a minute or two later from outside the bathroom.
“In my room,” Willow called back.
Tara walked in, where Willow was sitting on her bed, the coffee cups still in her hands, grinning.
“I just took a sip of my mocha and then your hazelnut latte and it was basically liquid-y coffee-light Nutella.”
Tara set her case down under Willow’s window and walked over to her.
“Let me try,” she replied, sitting beside Willow and taking each cup to try, “You’re right, that’s really good.”
“How have we never tried this before?” Willow giggled, “We’ll make our own blend and be millionaires!”
Tara returned the laugh and Willow couldn’t help scooting over and planting a kiss on her lips. Tara recovered from the surprise and quickly returned it. Willow pressed her palm against Tara’s cheek and caressed her jaw while pulling away slowly.
“Sorry. I’ve been turned into a crook,” she said, adding on sheepishly, “To steal a kiss.”
“You can’t steal what’s freely given,” Tara replied sweetly.
Willow had a flashback to when they were kids; Tara giving her the Barbie she wanted to play with even though Tara had been playing with it first. Willow hadn’t had to say anything; Tara just knew.
“Tell me about Buffy,” Tara broke Willow out of her thoughts, “If you want. Last time we talked about it, she wasn’t being very communicative.”
Willow drank the last bit of her mocha, left her empty cup on the nightstand and lay down on her stomach. She started recounting the story to Tara, who slowly moved closer as she finished her coffee, then lay on her back alongside Willow when she was done.
“So, yeah, she ended up pretty weepy for the night what with being dumped on Valentine’s Day, but we had great friend-time and it just felt so good to connect again.”
“That’s really wonderful,” Tara empathized, then corrected herself, “Not about the break-up. That must have been very difficult. I-I’m guessing. I don’t know her.”
Willow’s brow fell sadly.
“Tara…”
Tara just smiled it off.
“I got you something,” she said, changing the subject as she threw her legs off the bed and walked over to her guitar case, “For Valentine’s Day.”
She opened the little pouch on the front, while Willow looked on, curious. Tara turned toward her again, something closed in her palm.
“I was going to give it to you last night but…um. Anyway. I knew you wouldn’t want something, uh…obvious. But I thought this was pretty.”
She laid back down and opened her hand, revealing a pink-purple crystal. She offered it to Willow shyly, who took it and turned it over in her hand.
“It’s gorgeous,” as she turned it and watched the reflection of the rock in the sun shining in the window, “So cool.”
“It's called a Doll’s Eye crystal,” Tara explained, “I had to write a jingle for a class and I recognized this in a store window. My grandma, my mom’s mom, was big into crystals and my mom keeps a small collection of them.”
“It's like a family heirloom?” Willow asked cautiously.
Tara shook her head.
“No, I bought a new one for you.”
“Oh good,” Willow replied with a relieved sigh, “I just wouldn’t have been comfortable.”
Tara nodded understandingly.
“I went in and asked the owner about it. He said it was for spellbinding and… you’re spellbinding to me.”
Willow suddenly became very aware of her heartbeat.
“He also said it electrifies reactions,” Tara added on, “Whatever that’s supposed to mean.”
She grew more nervous as Willow remained silent.
“I-if you don’t like it—”
“I love it,” Willow interrupted, clutching Tara’s hand, “I-I feel bad. I didn’t even remember what day it was, meanwhile, you got me this cool gift and wrote me that cool song.”
She looked up at Tara through her eyelashes.
“It
was really cool, by the way. It was… sexy. I didn’t know you could sing like that. You know all…seductive and stuff.”
Tara felt a pressure in her stomach at the way Willow was looking at her.
“Y-you think I’m seductive?”
Willow reached up and brushed her fingers against Tara’s jawline, then tilted her chin down and leaned up to kiss her. Tara immediately melted, her body falling over toward Willow. Willow shifted herself onto her side and crossed her arms behind Tara’s neck, making it known certainly that she wanted Tara close.
Tara’s hand settled on Willow’s waist as she welcomed Willow’s tongue against her lips. She’d thought she’d blown it all last night and this was heaven.
The kissing got deeper and both of their hands migrated. Tara’s curved just slightly, so that her fingertips were brushing over the fabric on Willow’s ass and Willow’s palm was molded to Tara’s breast. Tara had just thrown a tank top under her shirt that morning, so this was as close to bare skin as Willow had ever felt. Without the thick material of a bra, the tightening of Tara’s nipple was playing out across her palm and driving her crazy.
Her other hand moved away from massaging Tara’s neck and brushed down Tara’s chest to where the hem of her shirt was riding up from the belabored breathing of its host. Her fingers connected with skin and she experienced the most erotic sensation of her young life: Tara moaning into her mouth.
Her hand bunched the material of Tara’s shirt for a moment, but she released it quickly in favor of her hand slipping beneath to find Tara’s skin again. Tara was a normal and healthy 98.6 degrees, but Willow’s fingertips still tingled and burned as they caressed what was underneath.
Tara felt like she couldn’t quite catch her breath, but it was suffocating in the best possible way. Willow’s hands and body were pressing into her in all sorts of ways and it was more than anything she’d ever felt before — Willow was near and far and always and everywhere and everything.
This was what they’d always had; secret moments shared in the heat of the afternoon, but today it felt
more.
Tara was so caught up in it all, she didn’t realize Willow’s hand had crept lower until she suddenly felt the brush against the top of her panties that sent a wave of arousal flooding through her.
Willow paused and looked at her breathlessly.
“Should I stop?”
Tara was almost afraid to move.
“You d-don’t owe me anything.”
Willow dipped her hand a
skosh lower and continued to fix Tara with an unbroken stare.
“Should I stop?”
Tara gulped.
“I-I want what you want,” she said, returning the intent look to make sure there was no confusion, “And only what you want.”
Willow kept Tara’s gaze for a few long seconds, then kissed each corner of Tara’s mouth. She left another kiss fully against Tara’s mouth, soft and sweet on her lips.
Tara felt Willow’s hand slide out from her underwear and breathed out once, just to calm and gather herself. That was okay. She would hate if Willow did anything she wasn’t comfortable with.
She was thrown off course again immediately though, when Willow just popped the button on her jeans, pulled down the fly and slid her hand back in, going right under her panties this time until there were fingers gliding and—
“Oh my god,” Tara rasped, fireworks going off behind her eyes.
Willow mouthed ‘whoa’ as she tentatively explored this new place. It felt similar to when she touched herself, but also very different too. Tara felt hotter and wetter and just so much more inviting.
Her fingers explored Tara’s lips and pretty quickly she felt a little bump.
Tara’s breath hitched and her thighs twitched and Willow was immediately bewitched.
She proceeded gently and brought her gaze up from her disappearing wrist to Tara’s face.
Tara’s cheeks were pink and her nostrils were flaring and she was biting on her bottom lip hard enough to nearly draw blood. Willow thought she’d never looked so beautiful.
She felt molten, deep in her core and light in her heart and dizzy in her mind.
It was intoxicating. Tara was intoxicating.
She had a little idea of what she was doing; she’d done it to herself plenty, but her fingers still explored, finding where Tara dipped and curved and feeling that wonderful wetness flow for her. It was the most exciting and satisfying sensory experience of her entire life.
She learned pretty quick that she loved the short moans Tara made when she brushed against her clit and brought the pads of two fingers up and over them repeatedly. She listened as Tara’s breath grew more and shallow.
Then there was a quick jerk and a caught breath and Tara was panting above and felt white-hot below.
Willow realized what had happened, what she’d made happen, and slowly grinned. She watched Tara’s face until her eyelids flicked open.
“You okay?” she whispered softly.
“Yeah,” Tara replied in the same way, unable to stop herself from smiling.
Willow kissed Tara’s forehead then her lips, soft and sweet like the one that had started it all. She reluctantly pulled her hand out, watching Tara exhale slowly at the same pace.
She glanced down at her hand and was kind of startled by the evidence making her fingers shimmer in the daylight. How did she clean off? She couldn’t remember what she did when she was alone. Nothing really, it was dark and she just rolled over and went to sleep. And it was never this much.
She had no idea of the etiquette here – was it rude to just wipe it off? Did she wait for it to dry, try to rub it off against her skin, excuse herself to go to the bathroom?
“Sweetie?” Tara asked, not for the first time.
Willow snapped to attention with several rapid blinks.
“Sorry?”
“Do you need this?”
Tara was shyly offering her a tissue, plucked from the box on her nightstand.
…or I could just do that.Willow blushed and accepted it gratefully.
“Thanks.”
She twisted the tissue around her fingers and crumpled it on the nightstand. She then fixed up Tara’s open jeans, complete with an awkward little pat on the button when she tied it.
Tara watched Willow smile at her clumsily and reached up to brush some hair from Willow’s face. With the beginnings of strength returning to her, she pushed herself up and pressed their lips together. She used the leverage to softly push Willow onto her back while she lay alongside her, essentially reversing their positions. Willow bent her arm at a right angle above her head and Tara covered it, linking their hands together.
They kept kissing and Tara’s hand slowly crept down Willow’s arm, over the swell of her breasts and paused, palm flat on her stomach.
“Do you want…?” she asked lightly, no pressure.
Willow looked down at herself, wondering if she was about to have an experience that would change her forever.
Heck…that already just happened.“I’m kinda nervous,” she admitted.
Tara followed her gaze down, and then back up again.
“Have you?”
Willow squirmed.
“Not with anyone else in the room.”
She paused, first with embarrassment, then shock as she realized something.
“I don’t cry anymore,” she whispered to herself.
She hadn’t even realized she’d been slowly absolving herself of her internal shame that she’d stopped crying immediately after pleasuring herself — if she could even call it that. It had always been more like hate fucking herself but lately, no…
“C-cry?” Tara asked, confused.
Willow’s eyes widened as she slowly navigated them toward Tara.
“Chai,” she covered, not very smoothly, “I don’t…chai anymore. Went through a phase. Back on the mochas.”
“Oh,” Tara replied, nodding along, used to Willow’s topic jumps, “D-Did you want me to get you another drink?”
Willow looked up at Tara, eyes glassy with vulnerability. She clutched Tara’s shirt and pulled her in.
“No, I want you to stay right here.”
She tucked her head into Tara’s neck and kissed below her ear.
“You can if you want.”
Tara ran her fingers down Willow’s hair.
“Do you want?”
Their eyes met and Willow nodded.
Tara smiled and played with the short ends.
“I really do love this cut.”
Willow blushed and reached to cover Tara’s hand, giving it a squeeze. Tara slid her hand onto Willow’s cheek and tilted her up for a kiss.
Willow relaxed, her fingers massaging Tara’s fingers until she was pulling her hand away.
Tara’s hand brushed over Willow’s knee and Willow suddenly froze.
“Um…”
Tara stopped and looked up, waiting for Willow to make the next move.
“We, can’t, um…” Willow gulped, “We can’t take our clothes off…a-anyone could walk in.”
She laughed nervously and Tara just looked at her kindly.
Both the front door and Willow’s bedroom door was locked; Willow’s parents weren’t even in the country and no one ever visited anyway, but she wasn’t about to argue. She remembered Willow freaking out at New Years and she would never want to make her uncomfortable.
“Show me what’s okay,” she said softly.
Willow melted under that soft, trusting and trustful gaze. She linked their hands again and shyly guided it under the skirt of her dress, then brought her grip up to the wrist, making Tara’s hand skate over her thighs.
Willow’s quite loose-fitting leggings suddenly felt very restrictive. She felt pressure over her pubic bone and goosebumps broke out across her flesh. Finally, Tara’s fingertips skated below her bellybutton and Willow thought it was so stupid that her body was reacting like this when Tara had probably grabbed the same spot in hugs or posing for photos a hundred times since her memory began.
Except then the elastic waistband on her leggings was giving way to Tara’s hand, and her underwear was accommodating the same bulge and then Tara was touching her somewhere she definitely never had before.
“Oh,” Willow breathed out.
Never had her mind offered so little thought, her mouth offered so little words and her body given her so, so much sensation.
Her neck arched into the pillows, straining her throat and causing the subsequent gasp to whimper into the air.
Tara was a very tactile person, in fact, it was the reason she got into music; being able to touch things in different ways and produce beautiful sounds spoke to her soul.
She was thinking about this because that little sound that got caught in Willow’s throat was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. It made her body react in ways she would never even be able to express or even the sweetest of chord progressions could ever replicate.
Two fingers glided Willow’s length, learning how she felt intimately. She laid her head on the pillow alongside Willow, enjoying watching her face as the expressions changed with each little movement.
She pressed her lips under Willow’s ear and almost immediately felt Willow’s face turning to hers and capturing her in a kiss. Tara’s hand stalled for just a minute in surprise, but a soft push as Willow’s hips lifted and returned to the bed made her fingers twitch again. They rolled over Willow’s clit and Tara felt a pulsation between them; she didn’t know if it was hers or Willow’s heartbeat.
The kiss got more heated and the pace of Tara’s rolling fingers only increased in kind.
Willow’s hand clutched the back of Tara’s shirt, then fell down to cup her butt. She squeezed and gasped simultaneously as the heat began to throb in her belly and spread out. It was entirely different to feeling an orgasm building by herself; the journey was as important as the end goal. The lack of control was surprisingly alluring. The intensity was…
She whimpered again as clenchings of pleasure rocked throughout her, followed by a rhythmic thumping inside that passed in seconds but held her in that moment for an age.
She had to blink several times for her vision to return from the firework/fuzzy screen hybrid it had momentarily turned into. She glanced over at Tara with scarlet cheeks and an awkward smile, who just pressed a warm kiss against her cheek. Tara slowly popped her hands from underneath Willow’s leggings, letting it rest on her fabric-clad thigh.
They lay together for a little while, silent; just being with each other.
“You okay?” Tara whispered against Willow’s neck.
Willow just smiled and nodded.
“Yeah.”
She was the best she’d ever felt, in fact.
Tara kissed Willow’s pulse point once, then twice; soft, barely there kisses that made Willow shiver right to the base of her spine.
Tara thought Willow might be cold and rolled over to reach for the blanket hanging off the end of the bed. On the way, something sharp dug into her lower back.
“Ow!”
Willow lifted her head to see what the problem was but was surprised to hear Tara giggling as she reached under herself and brought out the Doll’s Eye crystal.
“Why are you laughing?” Willow asked, lips quirked up in amusement.
Tara held the crystal up between them, twisting it around.
“In my jingle, I said the crystal would 'blow your mind'. I had no idea. I was just looking for a rhyme.”
Willow blushed, but couldn’t stop the amused twitch of her lips breaking out into a full-blown grin.
“I don’t think I ever thought that phrase could be literal,” she said, pressing her palms against her forehead where a thin layer of sweat was drying, “Seriously, I don’t even think I can remember the quadratic equation right now!”
They laughed together and naturally fell toward each other, pressed together at the hips and faces with barely any space between them at all. Tara brushed the hair from Willow’s face and Willow leaned right into it. She loved when Tara touched her like that; those little caresses that warmed her skin and lit the flame inside her.
They’d always been like this, she thought. Close. Drawn to each other. Physical, affectionate. And she’d always felt like it was something to hide.
Why…why?Tara brought the crystal up and closed it into Willow’s palm.
“But seriously…I thought you could keep it and hold onto it when…when we're apart.”
Willow was drawn from one source of agony to another. She really hated thinking that in mere months…
“It’s beautiful,” she said as she closed her fist and held it against her heart, “So, um, have you gotten your ticket? Planned it all out? I can’t believe…I mean, I’m so glad you’re getting to do it. The Big Trip.”
“My mom is getting me the ticket as a late birthday gift when I graduate,” Tara replied, her eyes lighting up as she spoke, “But I have a pretty good idea. I’m going to start with skiing in New Zealand and I think I’m going to try a bungee jump there. Did you know that’s where bungee jumping originated?”
Willow shook her head, watching how animated and joyful Tara became as she spoke about the trip.
“I’ll keep going west from there. Australia, up through Asia…and maybe train across Europe or see some of Africa then come home through South America. It sounds like it’s nothing more than a quick hop when I say it like that, but I want to take in everything, see everything. I want to go on safari in South Africa like you did and see the Sydney Opera House at night. See the temples in Thailand, tour the cobbled streets of Rome, boat through the falls in the Amazon,” she gushed as she closed her eyes for a moment and basked in the anticipation. She opened her eyes again and looked at Willow, shyly, “All of your stories are what made me want to do this, you know. I was so jealous of all your adventures.”
Willow’s eyelids closed, feeling a stab of guilt. She never knew she’d been the source of Tara’s fascination with travel. She’d figured it was karma that her deception was what was taking Tara away from her.
“I-I lied,” she admitted, wincing as the words came out of her mouth.
Tara’s brow creased but she didn’t move away.
“What do you mean?”
Willow’s jaw tensed for a moment. She felt angry at her younger self for forcing her current self to deal with the fallout of this.
“I lied about doing all those things,” she said a bit more forcefully.
“…you didn’t go overseas?” Tara tried to deduce, even more, confused since she definitely remembered Willow being away, and missing her.
“I-I did, but…” Willow stopped and sighed, “It wasn’t like how I said it was. I was stuck inside hotel rooms. I never saw anything. I watched pay-per-view movies and ordered room service and if I was lucky the restaurant we went to in the evenings was a bit of a drive away and I got to see the area that way. I made it all up. I’m sorry.”
Tara’s hand paused in the middle of stroking Willow’s hair.
“Why did you say…?”
Willow looked down.
“Because I wanted to sound cool.”
“But I’ve always thought you were cool,” Tara replied, genuinely confused.
Willow’s head shot back up and even more embarrassingly, she felt tears starting to fall on her cheeks.
“Hey,” Tara replied softly, wrapping her up in a hug.
Willow lifted her sleeve to her eye and wiped it.
“Are you mad?”
“We were kids. It doesn’t matter,” Tara comforted, kissing the top of Willow’s head, “And you put the idea in my head, so I’m grateful. Don’t worry about it.”
Willow exhaled a shaken breath.
“Sorry,” she said, sniffling to herself, “I just wish…”
“What?” Tara replied gently.
Willow kept her glassy gaze on Tara’s.
“I just wish your trip is everything you dream it to be.”
Tara put her palm under Willow’s chin and lifted her up into a soft kiss.
“As close as a dream can be without you.”
That was the moment Willow realized that gazing into each other’s eyes was more than just a cliché.
And even if it is…I’ll happily be one.Several hours later, when the sun had already set, Tara walked across the street in darkness and let herself into her house. She brought her guitar straight upstairs to put into her closet safely.
“Tara? Is that you?” Kimberly’s voice called up the stairs.
“Yes!” Tara called back and turned around to come back down.
She smiled at her mother as she landed back downstairs, who looked at her strangely, not that Tara noticed.
“I’m going to get a drink, do you want anything?”
Kimberly shook her head as Tara moved past her.
“No. Thank you.”
Tara poured a glass of sweet tea from the jug in the fridge and downed it all in one go.
“Thirsty?” Kimberly asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Apparently,” Tara replied with an easy smile, refilling her glass.
“Sit with me for a bit?” Kimberly requested and Tara nodded amiably.
They went into the living room and sat on the sofa together. Tara hugged a cushion to her chest and just smiled.
“You seem brighter,” Kimberly commented, with a bittersweet look on her face.
“Just hung out with Willow,” Tara replied, shrugging one shoulder, “She…made me feel better.”
Kimberly nodded along, lips pursed together.
“Mmhhm. I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said eventually, and lapsed into silence again for several long moments, “Were you really with Willow?”
Tara was startled by the question.
“Where else would I be?”
“Nate’s?” Kimberly asked, her tone probing, “Or…another boy?”
Tara’s brow only knitted tighter. Kimberly sighed.
“That crying last night was not ‘bad show’ crying. It was ‘bad boy’ crying. I’m quite familiar. And you’re very chipper all of a sudden.”
Tara’s jaw clenched and she sat forward.
“You honestly couldn’t be more wrong.”
Kimberly’s arms folded lightly over her chest.
“Did you trip and fall today?”
Tara held back looking at her mother like she was crazy.
“What? No.”
“Get into a fight with the suction end of a vacuum cleaner?” Kimberly wondered aloud, though her tone was a lot heavier on the sarcasm than she normally was and it unnerved Tara.
“What are you talking about?”
Kimberly reached out and pressed her fingers right under Tara’s pulse point. It was surprisingly tender.
“Well something bruised your neck pretty good and you’re telling me it wasn’t a boy.”
It took a moment, but then Tara’s eyes suddenly widened and her hand shot up to cover the apparent hickey on her neck. She turned her body so it was angled completely away from her mother to hide the blush she knew was rising on her cheeks.
Kimberly reached out and put a hand on Tara’s shoulder.
“Okay, you don’t want to tell me, fine. You’re an adult, you can do your own thing,” she said in a reasoned tone, “But are you being safe?”
Tara’s shoulders just tensed more.
“Mom, seriously—“
“it’s very important—” Kimberly pressed.
“It’s not an issue,” Tara interrupted, clutching the pillow tighter.
Kimberly sighed again.
“I’m sorry, Tara but it is an issue. If it’s about money—”
“Neither of us has slept with anyone else, okay?” Tara spoke in a rush, “There’s no issue here.”
Kimberly’s voice started to verge on annoyance; she knew Tara knew better, she’d raised her to be sensible about these things.
“And you’re not the least bit concerned about pregnancy?”
Tara’s mouth was trembling as she swallowed; her jaw tensing in the process.
“No, not really.”
Kimberly’s heart began to beat a little faster. She had to take in a breath before she was able to speak again.
“Why is that?” she prompted, suddenly terrified Tara was about to tell her history was repeating itself, “Well?
The last bit came out a bit stronger than she’d intended.
With her back still to her mother, Tara’s voice broke out through a sob caught in her throat.
“B-Because she’s a girl.”
Kimberly blinked.
That wasn’t what she expected.
Tara tried to stand and bolt, but Kimberly snapped to attention and caught her shoulder.
“Tara, wait. Please, sweetheart. I love you. Nothing could ever change that.”
Tara slowly sat back down, but with her gaze downward. Kimberly wrapped her arms around her and tucked Tara’s head under her chin.
“Oh, honey-bun. Did you think you had to hide that from me?”
Tara swiped at her eyes.
“I-I know you go to church. And read the bible.”
Kimberly kissed the middle of Tara’s messy parting.
“Sweetheart some of that book…well, some of it is just really dumb,” she said, matter-of-fact, “But now and again in spouts up some wisdom.”
She pulled back and held her daughter’s sad face in her hands.
“Like ‘Love is patient, love is kind’,” she said softly, “And I don’t believe restricted by something as superfluous as gender.”
Tara’s eyes filled with fresh tears and Kimberly allowed her to cry the relief into her chest. No matter how big or old or far away she got, Tara would always be her little girl.
She got her a tissue and refreshed her drink and after a little bit, Tara was composed, if not still silent. Kimberly had a hand on her back and was rubbing in circles like she would when Tara wouldn’t settle as a baby.
“I’ll tell you a secret. I always felt more of an affinity with Wicca. The spirituality and nature…that spoke to me. My mom had dabbled growing up, you see, so I knew a little. We were San Franciscan hippies. It’s even why I called you Tara, after the earth goddess,” she said in a fond tone, which faltered, “Your father…well, he didn’t approve. He wanted to call you Sally.”
“Sally?” Tara asked, brow furrowing. She didn’t feel like a Sally.
“After Mustang Sally, a horse that he won a lot on over the years,” Kimberly replied with a disapproving clipped tone, “But he wanted Donny to be named after himself so I won that one. In the end, he didn’t associate himself with the paperwork too much and you were Tara. But I wonder if I did you a disservice because he never liked the origins of your name and so I suppressed that part of me. And then after him, coming to a small town already a single mother…I never felt able to express myself in that way.”
She tugged Tara into another sideways hug.
“All I want for you is to always feel able to be yourself.”
Tara cautiously turned her gaze toward her mother, focusing on the first part.
“I kind of knew that. About you being interested in Wicca. You’ve mentioned your mom before. I’ve actually read up on it myself. There’s a Wiccan shop downtown. Well, a magic shop. But it has Wiccan stuff. You should check it out,” she suggested softly, “It’s called Uncle Bob's Magic Cabinet. The name could use some improvement, something snappy like…The Magic Box. Or something. But it seemed, um, authentic. It’s on Maple Court. Near the Espresso Pump.”
Kimberly nodded agreeably.
“Maybe I will. Thanks.”
They were both quiet for a few moments, pensive.
“Who is she?” Kimberly asked eventually, softly.
“You don’t know her,” Tara answered immediately, stilted.
“I’d like to,” Kimberly replied with a hopeful lilt.
Tara shook her head.
“She’s not…”
“Okay. That’s okay,” Kimberly reassured quickly. She lifted her hand and brushed some of Tara’s hair away, “Do you love her?”
Tara slowly turned her face until her eyes met her mother’s. She nodded repeatedly in quick succession and Kimberly started to stroke her head again.
“I’m happy for you. I hope she makes you very happy.”
A quiet sob left Tara again as she shook with the relief of sharing that secret. Kimberly just held her for as long as she needed.
Eventually, the tears dried and Tara felt like she could barely keep her eyes open. She stood up, looking down to hide how red she knew her eyes must have been.
“I’m going to head to bed. I didn’t sleep great last night.”
“Okay, honey,” Kimberly replied, standing too, “Just remember, I love you, always.”
Tara gave her mother a hug, mumbled a ‘thank you’ and left the living room to head upstairs.
Kimberly exhaled slowly as she sank back down onto the couch, taking everything in.
She took a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder to the Rosenberg residence, with a face full of concern.