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

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 Post subject: lurking
PostPosted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 3:51 pm 
argh, forgot to add a subject.



I'm just going to sit quietly and wait for updating to occur.



:kitty



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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Fri Jun 24, 2005 9:41 am 
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2. Floating Rose
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WOW! um this was a great read better than a lot of fan fics that i've read, can't wait for more so hurry up before my head explodes :)


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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Mon Jun 27, 2005 10:12 am 
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9. Gay Now

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Well it has been awhile since the last update for the Journal. Real life getting in the way and all that. I can only claim in my defense that the next part will be a long one, does that help? Probably not but that's about all I have for the moment. I think I should get something up near the end of the July. I hope.

Sahugani, thanks for reading this, we don't want your head to explode so I'll try and make more time for writing. Always nice to hear the stroy is working.

Garner


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 Post subject: Them's the Breaks
PostPosted: Mon Jul 25, 2005 10:09 am 
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9. Gay Now

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Well, unfortunately just before I was going on vacation and to my favorite place to write more of this and W/T stuff in general I went and broke both of my freakin' arms last Monday (7/18). I was riding my bike, too fast of course, took a tight turn while looking back for cars and missed the sand and went down very hard on both palms. I ended up with a fracture in the left arm from the wrist on up and along the right elbow. Fortunately after a week of splints, which limited range of motion quite a bit, a bone specialist said I didn't need casts for the next 6-8 weeks, but could get by with just a couple of braces for 4 weeks as the fractures were more hairline and the bones hadn't shifted or separated or anything. Yay. So since typing is a bit of a pain now, it will probably be a bit longer than I intended till this gets updated. Figures, nothing like a cursed part. This should be part 13. Well, when I can type again at least I won't be doing much else. There will be an update eventually. Hope everyone elses' summer is going better.

Garner


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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Mon Jul 25, 2005 11:03 am 
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2. Floating Rose
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sorry to here that here that Garner, hope your better soon, not that i'm impatient or anything you know just running i on whole time limit thing, ya know with the whole "AH! my head is gonna explode!" thing :)

hehe anyway enjoy what ever pain meds they give you be carefull on that bike ov yours next time.

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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Mon Jul 25, 2005 2:11 pm 
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6. Sassy Eggs

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Sorry to hear about your accident, Garner. Hope your recovery is quick. Take care, and don't worry about the update. We'll be here waiting when it does get written.

Russ

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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Mon Jul 25, 2005 6:24 pm 
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19. Yummy Face

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Feel better soon. I will definitely be waiting.

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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Tue Jul 26, 2005 4:51 am 
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4. Extra Flamey
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I'm not sure I've ever posted feedback here, which is strange cause this is I think my favourite fic of any I've read (mostly all on these boards). Many thanks for this wonderful fic :bow :bow :bow x1000

I didn't think it'd be updated, but I've always hoped so, so :bounce bouncy!! But firstly sending lots of get well-vibes, that accident sounded very nasty and I hope all will be well soon... :flower

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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Wed Jul 27, 2005 1:03 pm 
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14. Lesbo Street Cred
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Sorry to hear about your accident Garner, do take care to heal properly. We'll wait for an update, not to worry.. we're used to it... :lol

grimmy

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"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it."
-- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine


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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Fri Jul 29, 2005 10:28 am 
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9. Gay Now

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Thanks everyone for the kind and sympathetic thoughts. As I said, things could be a lot worse. I have a decent range of motion and can type a bit. Hopefully by next week I will even be able to type a bunch more and work on the story. I can't work right now so I might even have the time and the mood, which would be a nice change! The sad thing is, the update is about 80% done already. Oh well, time is always the hardest thing to find.

Hope you are all having a good summer and better health! :)

Garner


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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Fri Jul 29, 2005 4:22 pm 
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10. Troll Hammer
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Wow... all I gotta say is, freaking OW, man.

Feel better, we look forward to your healthy return.

cheers
DW

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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Mon Jan 16, 2006 12:45 pm 
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9. Gay Now

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Well it has been an age since I posted on this, over a year. That's definitely too long. At least my arms are all healed now and I have been able to write again and have been getting back into the Journal. Thanks for the support and if anyone is still interested I should have an update of sorts coming up soon. This next bit will be a bit more smutty than normal for me, Tommo is probably laughing as I said I don't like that style much, but it seemed appropriate as it came up, so I think I'll see how it goes. The second part which will be a bit later will wrap up this interlude style stuff and get us to Yoko Factor. I do intend to finish out the fourth season. I guess better late than never.

Garner


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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Mon Jan 16, 2006 3:46 pm 
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8. Vixen
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I dont think I ever commented on this fic but I was with it all the way.
Good to hear that you are alright again and willing to continue writing this story. I think I am not the only here loving this story. And now that you have given me hope and a reason to... *runs off to reread it all*

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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Mon Jan 16, 2006 8:22 pm 
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28. Com...plete
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I am so glad that you are feeling all healed and will be working on this fic again! It is one of the very first fics I read when I found the board and still one of my very favorites...definitely top 3...if it had kinky VampWillow type stuff it woulda been number 1, but you know me...big ole kinky smut bunny...anyway...YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!!!!!! More of this incredible fic!!!! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

Sandi :bounce :bounce :bounce :bounce :wtkiss :eyebrow


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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Sat Jan 21, 2006 1:02 pm 
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Oh yay. More! *makes room in schedule for far too much time spent reading fic*

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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Sat Jan 21, 2006 2:55 pm 
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14. Lesbo Street Cred
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Well that is indeed good news. I figured your arms would be looong healed by now and you were enjoying some holliday of sorts :P Hopefully you didn't have splints and such for six months.

Maybe it's better to call the next chapter 'part 14' just for luck ?? :bounce

Looking forward to any update and indeed it is a good excuse to read this story again ;-)

Grimmy

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"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it."
-- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine


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 Post subject: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - Part 16A
PostPosted: Sat Jan 21, 2006 5:43 pm 
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9. Gay Now

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Well, I actually have an update! Amazing! I actually have about 3/4 of the next part done, we'll see how long it takes to get that finished and up. Enjoy this part while I get that done. :)


I am not a huge fan of NC-17 fiction, and that might be partially why this has taken longer than is reasonable to be finished. However, I also don’t wish to gloss over that part of their relationship, Willow and Tara should not be chastely gay, there was quite a bit of passion beneath the surface of what we saw, and some of that must have influenced me. I don’t think it will happen again, but now things are still fresh for Tara and making an impression on her so I think she’d record it, obviously or I wouldn’t have included it. As with all the speculation, I could be wrong though.


Title: From the journal of Tara MaClay Pt. 16A
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The events after New Moon Rising, before Yoko Factor in Season 4.
Note: Written November 2004 through April 2005 and now January 2006 (uggh, now that’s way too long of a gap!). The entries are no longer consecutive days, some gaps may appear. This is the second part of the overall Interlude, part one of Stormy Nights, so there will be one more. This will be resolving some hanging threads that are left around with Mandy and her crew, and a resulting side W/T adventure that is not from the show, though soon we’ll be back to canon, more or less.


Interlude: Stormy Nights I


Thursday Morning:


She moves like a morning sun,
Drifting and flowing over me,
A warmth that sinks within.

The chill that had encased me,
Broken by her searing lips,
And the gentlest of looks.

My spirit rises like a flower,
Nurtured by loving hands,
Turns towards her shining face.

I’m drawn into her orbit,
The most heavenly of bodies,
And life renewing presence.

I reach out towards her,
And my hand is met,
two souls joining as one.

Finally, she lowers beside me,
A sun setting within my arms,
A warmth that sinks within.


Ah, that’s not very good, I still need to work on it, but really, what can compare to the glorious time I’ve been allowed to spend with her? How can any words truly express the feelings I get when she touches me, when her lips close on mine, or when her fingers move within me? It’s like I’m filled with a light that just continues to grow and build and she’s the only thing that can give me release without my bursting, though, that just starts the process all over again.

Goddess, I feel like I’m intoxicated beyond reason, addicted to the sex, the love, the simple presence of her and can’t get enough. I want her tongue on me, I want to taste her, feel her move and slide beneath and beside me. I can’t get enough, no matter what we do, or how often. My heart is racing just thinking of her, my palms sweaty and the flames of desire raging within me. Is it supposed to be like this? Is love so consuming that all other things, other aspects of life, are overwhelmed, become inconsequential?

Mother, was it ever like this for you? Did Father ignite you like she does me? It’s hard to imagine. Home seems so cold and remote in my memory. So different from the time I share with her. Perhaps even this is destined to burn out? To die down, leaving cooling embers of emotion that are but distant echoes of what burned before? Goddess, don’t let it be so. My need is so raw, so great, she’s so enormously and completely…her, Willow, mine, my love. Aagggh, I just want to shout, to sing and cry all at the same time. I need to meditate, achieve some balance and make sure that I don’t frighten her with the depth of my feelings, my overwhelming need for her. It’s just that I love her so much. Every little aspect of her, that amazingly soft and silky hair, her cute face and those emerald eyes that seem to drink in everything. Her hands, so soft, smooth and unblemished, yet hiding a surprising strength. The way her voice resonates within my head, her laugh the purest sound of joy that lifts my spirit and makes me smile no matter what’s happened or the mood I might be in. And the way the energy flows and tingles when we touch, I still get shivers just thinking about it. It’s as though my chest is ready to burst with joy, pride, need, and would swallow her whole if given half the chance. Oh, Mother, I am so entirely in love with her and so happy. Is there any possibility she feels the same overpowering crush of emotion?

I mean, she’s been through some of this before, right? She had Oz, thought she loved him and even had a brief thing with Xander at one point. Does that allow her to cope easier? Give her some perspective I lack?

Perhaps I’m making too much of everything, over-reacting like a silly romantic dork? People fall in love, have sex, get married even, every day. It’s not that big a deal, right? A perfectly natural and normal occurrence. Happens all the time.

So why does this seem like so much more? Or is that just what all silly girls like me feel the first time? But…it’s almost as if I can feel her now, sense her existence, gain strength from it, be reassured that she’s there, somewhere in the world and that she’s a part of me. Goddess she’s so kind and beautiful and sweet and I love the way she says my name and how she makes me feel.

She even allows me to forget, just for a while, my evil nature, the demon within me. Is it possible, do I even dare to hope, that her love might be able to make that portion of me disappear, or at least diminish, hibernate maybe, and never come out? When she’s present I don’t feel the slightest shred of evil, even my doubts seem to recede. I could love her just for that alone.

So much has happened, again, since last I updated my journal. I blew off my afternoon classes yesterday and lazed about my room indulging in indolence and the memories of her touches, the lingering sensations and scents. I was still a little afraid that somehow all that had happened would be taken from me. That some trick, illusion, spell or whatever was responsible and that it was all created to torture me by being revoked.

I watched the clouds slowly form and slide across the sky. I saw various parts of her within them, a half face and smile here, a perfectly shaped arm there, the swell of hip and trailing leg. The breeze continued to be warmer than normal and the smell of more rain hung heavy within it, but that only seemed more appropriate for lying about. I imagined it was her breath softly flowing around me, running over my skin and it was almost too much.

While I looked into the evening sky, an orangeish-golden light reflected off the scattered clouds, and the sudden storm from my dream came to mind. It had a similar aspect: large billowing clouds of dark gray that were almost like a wall with sudden upsurges for towers or the keep of some fantastical castle or fortress.

In the back of my mind I swore I recalled seeing something on weather magic in Golina’s spell book. In the past I’d flipped through it now and then, just sort of skimming the words without really understanding them. It takes a fair amount of concentration and attention to translate it, but this notion came unbidden, almost a flash of insight so I decided to see if I could find it again. Weather magics are difficult to perform as they’re very tricky, or at least that’s what Mother always said. One could destroy the balance of the area, or the countryside nearby with an ill-performed spell. Weather patterns are large and planet wide, not something that can easily be altered without repercussions. One needs great skill, tight concentration, and a gentle touch as they manipulate the magic.

After a little searching I did indeed find several spells, there was a protection spell that would ward one from lightning, and keep the affects of wind, hail and rain to a minimum. That seemed pretty cool and I had the idea of giving it a try just to see if I could do it, but decided against it since there was no storm currently raging and she wasn’t there. I didn’t want to do anything that we could try together later on.

The second spell was odd, it seemed to almost be in a different language, though it was still old French. The phrasing and wording seemed strange, even the handwriting appeared slightly off. Perhaps Golina had merely copied the spell from some other book? It allowed one to call rain to water the crops or to increase the severity of a storm, ostensibly to keep an area isolated from military expeditions or unwanted attention. However, there was something disturbing about the spell. I found the hair on the back of my neck rising and my arms covered in goosebumps despite the warm evening.

The third spell was more obviously similar to the rest of the ones in the book and was basically to quell a storm. It was designed to mitigate the ravages of a tornado or hurricane, decrease the wind and rain and disperse the tempest’s energies over several days and a very wide area. It seemed much more in tune with the ecosystem and the natural order and specifically tried to avoid any short or long term complications to the weather patterns. I liked the feel of this spell and again the idea of trying it out, stopping another storm from hitting us tonight, which I was suddenly certain would come, seemed like a good test and idea.

It was strange, the sun was setting, the shadows growing longer and the orange tinge much deeper as light reflected off the clouds, which appeared to be unusually dark and foreboding. I was sitting at my desk with the window behind me, my translation texts nearby, my rear starting to ache from having sat too long, and yet there was a soft silverish light by which I was reading. I had just consciously noted it when her knock came on the door and then it opened as she burst in.

The room seemed both to darken and brighten at the same time. She was all bubbly and ‘Hi, I missed you, give me a kiss!’ and I absently closed the book as her arms wrapped around my chest and her lips pressed against my cheek. I turned my head to return her next kiss and all thoughts of spells left my head at the sudden jolt of our lips. The energy that flowed between us seemed to pulse in sharp sudden surges. I almost thought I heard crackling and hissing like an electrical connection between two poles similar to what I’d once seen in science class.

We finally parted and she said ‘wow,’ and I had to second that. I looked into her deep green eyes in the still darkening room, at the smile that lit up her face and couldn’t help smiling like a loon back at her. She’s so beautiful in the evening. Her hair stands out like a deep red field and her skin seems so unblemished, a perfect sculpture of fine ivory.

She asked what I was doing sitting in the dark and flipped on my desk light. I told her I’d been translating a little bit of weather magic and she thought that might be useful, given how strange it’d been lately. I laughed and said if it kept us in, then it was fine by me, but she put on her mock pout and said that I wasn’t going to get off that easily and she hadn’t gotten dressed up for nothing.

It was then that I looked at what she was wearing rather than just her captivating face. She had on a stunning dark blue dress made of something like satin or felt that exposed her shoulders and a little cleavage while spreading out just a bit below her knees and stretched down to a wider area just above the ankles. She had on a necklace with a quartz crystal that caught the light and highlighted a slim silver necklace and earrings. A dark belt broke up the expanse of blue and it seemed so regal, formal and yet warm and inviting despite being blue that I almost forgot to breathe.

I told her she looked like the most gorgeous and sophisticated lady ever and where was the ball tonight? She just smiled, did a little curtsey and said she’d seen it in one of the stores when we’d been out window shopping the other Sunday and couldn’t resist picking it up and she hoped I would forgive her for being a little late?

I stood up and took her hands, sort of spun her about and then softly kissed her, feeling her breath mingle with mine and the excitement build within me. I stood back and looked down at my own jeans and the T-shirt I’d thrown on earlier and realized I had nothing to compare with her elegant look. Bless her, she smiled at the consternation on my face and told me not to fear, she had just the thing for me, and stepped over to the door, opened it, reached around the corner and produced a large white box with a little gold ribbon on it.

She held it out to me and I took it with trembling hands. I could tell just from the box that it was probably expensive, and likely some beautiful dress. There had been one in particular that was a sort of jade green that extended to mid calf and had a matching, but lighter tinted, blouse with a sort of diamond pattern in it that was kind of glossy and which caught the light at certain angles that really struck me. I had just the shoes and necklace to go with it and remembered it being on sale, but it was just a bit more than I’d wanted to spend at the time.

Tremulously I opened the box and just stared at the fine green cloth within it. Oh, it was beautiful, stunning even, and I did have the perfect gold necklace to go with it. My eyes watered a bit and her beaming face sent me over the edge. A few happy tears fell down my face, around curved cheeks from the wide smile I wore.

She said, ‘so you like it?’ and I just nodded and kissed her over the box. Her lips were so soft, moist and delicious. I wanted more, but she broke off and told me to take it out and try it on and I replied she just wanted to see me strip, and though she nodded her head and laughed in the affirmative, she added that it wouldn’t be fair for me to be the only partially clothed one, and that was for later, so she’d just turn her back and not peek even a little bit or we’d never get out of the room. She made a big deal of going over to my desk and sitting, carefully, on the chair, putting her little black purse by the lamp and looking at Golina’s spell book.

That made me smile even more and I took the dress out of the box and saw the paler green silk blouse inside as well. I might have squealed cuz I definitely heard her giggle and I swear her back looked awfully pleased. I snuck up behind her and planted a wet, sloppy kiss on her ear and whispered huskily that I’d get even with her and she shivered and told me not to make threats I couldn’t make good on.

I breathed in the scent of her hair, let it rub on my cheek, kissed the top of her head and told her I loved her, that she was the most precious thing in the world to me and that I never wanted to lose her. She sort of swiveled in the chair and said that she never wanted to lose me either and that she’d never loved someone like she did me. Our lips meshed and our tongues slid in a perfect ballet of pleasure, warmth and wetness.

Finally she said I better put on my dress before it was too late, though she never said too late for what and her eyes seemed darker than normal. I figured she was probably right though, and went over to my closet. I figured a deep maroon scarf might be a good compliment, and dug out my fancy black church shoes.

I took off my top, slid my pants down and stepped out of them when I suddenly felt her arms wrap around me. Her mouth was a hot, moist tingling that swept over my neck, around to my ear, kissing and licking me while her hands stroked and cupped my breasts. My breath rushed out and I shuddered in sheer delight as the soft felt of her dress pressed against my bare back. Her fingers were warm little brands that kneaded and pinched through a thin bra that suddenly didn’t seem thin enough.

I started to turn around so I could wrap my arms around her, but she stopped me with a soft, ‘unh-uh.’

Her tongue continued to trace the nape of my neck causing my jaw to quiver uncontrollably. I leaned harder back into her though she shifted more to my side and kissed the area in front and below my ear with tiny little kisses that sent jolts through me. One hand slid down my back and caressed both cheeks, pressed the sheer fabric of my panties against me, and then slowly, rubbed softly and then harder and faster between my legs. The wet material seemed to cause shivers and waves of pleasure with each stroke.

I moaned both in desire and disappointment when she slowed and stopped, only to cry out as her other hand worked one breast free and her mouth closed on the nipple, her tongue swirling around it, followed by slippery little nibbles and sucking that almost made me topple over and my knees shake.

She must have read my mind, because after a few glorious moments she leaned back up, kissed the side of my panting mouth, and pushed me face first onto the bed. Again I went to roll over and she pressed me down with one hand while I felt her hair softly brush against my lower back, and her lips trail kisses down towards my rear.

Her teeth nipped at me and then she finally slid my panties down to my ankles and nudged my thighs apart with her face and tongue.

Oh, Goddesss, I’ve never been so entirely and utterly turned on. The room was half dark, the warm breeze still blew in from outside and I was both completely relaxed yet totally thrumming with desire. I shut my eyes and just reveled in the feel of her cheeks on my inner leg, the brush of her silky hair as she moved. Her kisses reached the swell of my buttocks and her tongue probed at my folds sending wave after wave of pleasure through me. It was like I was helpless, trapped and powerless beneath her, and yet it was freeing and liberating. Nothing existed but the sensations she brought, encouraged and induced. Her hands were like a fire that awakened the most joyful sensations wherever they touched.

Everything built and built and I started moaning, ‘now, now!’ when something cool and hard slid into me. I recall thinking, ‘Oew, toys,’ before nothing but scintillating colors and explosions swept through my mind as the ecstasy overcame me. This time I’m sure I yelled out her name.

Finally, she let me roll over and kissed me full on the lips. Our tongues met several times while one hand softly caressed my neck, ear, hair, and the other found the exposed breast and made sure I didn’t entirely settle down. My heart was racing so fast, my breath coming in such short, rapid bursts I almost missed her soft, ‘I love you more than anything.’

I hugged her tightly and then pulled her down on top of me, though she resisted a bit at first. The feel of her dress and the cool leather belt on my stomach was almost enough to get me going again. We kissed several more times, my hands stroking and stroking her hair and head, before she squirmed, which was nice, and got free enough to say she was getting all disheveled, and we really should get going sometime soon.

I laughed and laughed at the mock innocence on her face as she stood up and straightened her dress and hair. She reached over for my brush and smoothed her hair while stating that it was all my fault and that I drug her down into a very dirty gutter. She tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t stop the giggles from bursting loose.

I lay there looking up at her and suddenly realized that she had to have had this all planned out. I jumped up and grabbed her, underwear dragging from one foot and exclaimed, ‘You vixen!’ in false outrage.

I went for the ticklish spots on her side and poked and prodded for all I was worth. She screamed, giggled and shook but didn’t move away. I picked her up and sort of tossed her to the bed on her back and continued to alternately tickle and kiss her, while she kept howling and wriggling. I finally told her I wouldn’t want to mess up her dress or hair more than it already was, but later tonight she was going to definitely get some payback.

She lay amidst my rumpled covers and the pillows, her chest rising and falling rapidly and her shining green eyes looking back at me with such a look of absolute happiness on her face that it shook me to my core. Goddess, she was so happy, ecstatic even, and completely at ease. I was standing with one boob hanging out of my bra, underwear tangled around one ankle, wearing nothing else, and didn’t even feel self-conscious at all. How had this happened?

It was like I was in another life, died and been reborn. No cares about family or home, no thoughts about demonic heritage or being evil. Just her…and me…together; blissful and exultant that the other existed, was there, shared the same feelings. I suddenly felt closer to her than ever before. I placed one small kiss on the center of her chest, just above the dress and pressed my head against her. She held me in place, her fingers gently flowing through my hair, and I swear we both sighed at the same time.

I thought then that it couldn’t get any better. This was the best single moment of my life. The memory of one of the final scenes from Robin and Marion came to my mind, Sean Connery and Audrey Hepburn slowly dieing together. I did sort of vaguely wonder if something like that wasn’t for the best? Die happy, after a great day that was likely never to be equaled. Preserve the moment forever.

It was a terrible thought, there was so much more I wanted to experience with her, so many more days to spend together, pleasure and wonderful times like this we could share. I guess that was just the little demon voice in the back of my head trying to ruin things, bring me back to earth after the heavenly heights she’d taken me to. Father, Donny…they couldn’t touch me now, no matter what happened I’d have the memory of this time together with her to treasure, future heights to aspire to. As long as I’m with her there’s reason to go on, things to hope for, something to be thankful for.

I’ve never been overly morose and even these dark thoughts didn’t dampen my spirits. I stood upright and looked down at the amazing woman lying on my bed. The one gazing up at me with that strange look I’d grown to enjoy and I knew the whole night would be magical. A storybook romance made real, and that sometimes the Goddess and God’s blessings weren’t just for others.

I pulled her up and told her she shouldn’t fool around so much, she’d look like a tramp and that brought more laughter. I unfastened my bra, kicked my panties into the closest, and she said I was such a hussy, she didn’t know what she was doing with the likes of me and that it certainly wasn’t right for a proper lady.

I reached down and held up her metal device saying her ladyship forgot something. She just smiled and said to leave that here, we might need it later and then I did blush, and we both laughed again.

I got dressed while she made herself presentable once more. After about twenty minutes we both looked fashionable and elegant, which got a smirk out of both of us, though she said I looked as gorgeous in my new dress as I did out of it.

We left the dorm holding hands and stayed that way, or arms linked, all the way to the restaurant. We got there around 8:20, about ten minutes early for our reservation and I had to ask how she’d timed it that well? She looked a little embarrassed and said she had actually set one for eight, eight-thirty, and nine telling them she wasn’t entirely positive when our function would end and we would arrive, and if they could have a table ready at each time. It took some persuading, but she can be pretty insistent when she wants to be. She said if it hadn’t worked she would have just made three different reservations under three different names.

I looked at her with mouth open and told myself to remember how calculating she is. Leave it to her to plan for something like what happened. Not that I mind, far from it, but still, she can obviously be a lot more schemey and plotting than I’d known. Once again, another side of my fantastic girl is discovered. I wonder if I seem plain and boring to her? Maybe not now, while things are so new, but will she still be so enchanted, willing to go to such lengths in six months? A year from now? Will we even still be together then?

No, there’s no reason to ruin things with such thoughts or pointless worries. That she wants me so much, loves me enough to plan a seduction or sexy encounter is almost more than I can get my mind around. Oh, Mother, it feels so good to be desired like this, to have someone who values me so much. No, we’re together now and I have to believe that the future will go as the Goddess intends and that despite my demonic heritage things can work out for us. They have to; I can’t see living any other way now.


Continued immediately below...


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 Post subject: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - Part 16B
PostPosted: Sat Jan 21, 2006 5:46 pm 
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Part 16B


The night was indeed as delightful and fantastic as I could have wished. We waited in the foyer surrounded by sparkling lights, and fine, rich wood that seemed so bright with polish and rich in texture. There was a muted hush of conversation and the carpeting seemed so soft and plush it was like standing on clouds or that I was soaring majestically through the stratosphere. Or, maybe that was all just because she smiled that smile at me.

We talked about our favorite meals or embarrassing dining incidents like the time Xander had dumped a plate of spaghetti on her. Little faux pas that had seemed horrifyingly embarrassing at the time, but now were merely amusing anecdotes. We laughed and touched hands every so often and it was like we were in a different world, far away from the vampires and demons. Just her and me amidst a whirl of splendor, fine food, bright lights, shining red hair and sparkling green eyes. Not to mention wide smiles.

Goddess, it was so good to see her relax and unwind throughout the evening. I could sense it in her aura, in the way her shoulders lost a bit of that tightness she gets. All this weight of Adam, the initiative, Oz coming back, her parents’ plots, even us, all of it had to have built up and pressed down on her. Maybe it will all come back, but at least for a while she seemed free of it.

The food was delicious, like nothing I’ve ever had before, so rich, the flavors at times subtle and others very strong. We were there for a timeless period, eating, giggling and carrying on. Talking about school, music, art, all sorts of things but Scooby stuff. Not that I mind that or anything. It just felt nice to leave it all behind and talk about other things. We decided that maybe this summer we’d take a trip to L.A. and visit the art museum, spend a day away from Sunnydale, maybe even get a hotel room and make a sinful weekend of it.

By the time we left we’d both had perhaps a bit too much wine, though I don’t recall drinking a lot. Maybe it was just being around her and feeling completely at ease. She is as intoxicating as she is beautiful. Anyway, we decided to go to the Bronze and dance a bit, even though we were all dressed up and would probably stand out. She didn’t even consider if Buffy and the others would be there or not, that they might see us together and that was pretty cool, too.

The place wasn’t very crowded, but there were still a fair number of people present. We got lucky in that a little table opened just as we arrived so we had a place to sit and get some water and sodas. None of the others were present, so we talked about high school a bit, I told her that I never went to dance then, that I’d never had the courage to go to any school events or anything like that. My hometown was so small, we were out of the way, and I’d had chores and such that it just wasn’t possible even if I’d wanted to, which I didn’t. And the fact that none of the local boys were of any interest to me didn’t help. They were all into cars, sports, things I had no interest in and were so crude. It was almost for the best that I was so homely that no one ever paid me any attention.

She was sympathetic, saying she’d never been that extroverted either. She’d go to the Bronze with Xander, but not on dates, just sort of to hang out though at the time she’d had a big crush on him, not that he ever noticed. She said that kinda hurt, always being around him and yet he never really looked at her. It was like he saw through or beyond her. Not great for the self-esteem, but Buffy helped her become bolder, told her to seize the day and if it weren’t for her she might never have taken the chances she did. She added that I was probably never as homely as I thought, and that whatever the case might have been, I was more radiant now than any of the other girls back home. She said it with such sincerity and admiration that I blushed and looked down at the table, before forcing myself to meet her gaze.

Oh, Mother, I can lose myself in her eyes so completely. She looks at me, not past or around me. I can see the regard, caring, and even desire there. It’s silly, maybe it’s just the way her whole face shines and her smile raises her cheeks and gives them a slight ruddy complexion. I don’t know. I just love her little nose and cute mouth. Goddess I want her again, now. How much of this can my heart take before it explodes?

She asked if I had had any crushes on any of the girls back home, and I’m certain that I blushed, embarrassed to even recall the whole situation with Mary Jo. I related how I’d adored her in a smitten young schoolgirl sort of way, but that I’d never really been brave enough to do anything about it and that she’d just pretended to be my friend to get in good with my brother. The realization had devastated me and probably made me shyer and turn more towards witchcraft than ever. After that I hadn’t dared do anything but look at other girls with a sort of forlorn hope that they liked girls and somehow they’d notice me, which of course they didn’t. Until her, of course.

It felt good to be telling her some of what I’d gone through, it made everything seem more tolerable, like I’d already been through the worst, persevered and come out intact. And it was kinda shocking to hear that even someone like her had had her own problems, fears and challenges to conquer. I get so wrapped up in my own difficulties that I sometimes forget how similar a background we have in many ways, how much she’s overcome. At least I never had a Cordelia who always picked on me at school, though obviously her home life wasn’t nearly as bad.

And we danced, too. It was so cool to be holding her, swaying with the music, feeling that soft dress, and her body shifting so sinuously beneath it. I look at her and watch her move, the way her hair bounces above her face, those smiling green eyes, the cute nose and smile that makes her cheeks rise a bit and deepen in color. It’s like no one else exists, there’s just us and the beat and the motion. The occasional contacts or slow dances sending the familiar sparks through me, making my heart beat faster and there in the edges of my mind, anticipation rose of what would come later, when we got back.

OK, so I’m repeating myself when I write of her, I can’t help it. It’s impossible to get her face, her smell, her feel out of my mind. Everything about this is just so huge, immense, so fantastic and magical that I can hardly comprehend that it’s real, not a dream. I’m almost at a loss for words and everything is so good that it scares me, makes me frightened that things are going too well. That I’m not allowed this much happiness and that something bad has to happen to balance things out.

Eventually we did leave, though it was well after midnight by then. We slowly walked back to campus, it was warm and the night was overcast with the heavy scent of rain on the air, but we didn’t care. Let it rain, we’d just duck into a nearby doorway and huddle close together. Nothing bothered us and it was a very romantic walk, just us holding hands and occasionally engaging in little bursts of conversation.

We got back to the dorm right before the first few drops fell and we both observed that our timing had been perfect. We watched the rainfall for a few moments and then went upstairs towards my room. Mandy and a couple of her friends were waiting for us in the floor lounge and intercepted us. They all looked fearful and bruised, several had bandages on and one had a small splint covering one of her fingers. In truth it looked like they’d been in a car crash. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for them and I saw that she was a little taken aback as well.

They all seemed sort of hesitant or reluctant to approach us, but finally Mandy moved forward and said that whatever it was that we’d done, they’d learned their lesson and she couldn’t take the constant accidents and freak occurrences and couldn’t we just undue whatever it was that we’d done already? Had they really been so mean that they deserved all this?

Mandy looked particularly awful, swollen nose, a black eye carefully hidden by makeup but which you never can completely conceal, I know from experience, even a scraped and raw cheek. I understood that they’d been thoughtless and cruel, but this really was too much and the poor girl had tears in her eyes that started to smudge her eye shadow and made it look like the skin on her face was starting to run.

Willow took all this in and without hesitation placed her hands over her heart and softly chanted, ‘Let the lesson be ended and the magic restrained, may the curse be broken and Hecate contained.’

When she finished, and she had started before Mandy was even done with her appeal, she said that she was sorry things had gone so far. But, that was what happened when prejudice and bigotry were involved and she hoped they’d forgive her for responding the same way they had. She seemed truly sorry and shocked at how effective the curse had been and I was both surprised and impressed.

Mandy didn’t say anything for a moment and then quietly said she was sorry for picking on us so much. She didn’t know why she’d been such a bitch, though it was still kinda gross, but hurriedly added that she should’ve just kept her opinions to herself and how did we do that to her anyway?

My girl gave her a sly smile and said it was one of those old world things, evil eye and all that. You never knew which families had the gift, but it seemed to run stronger in those here in Sunnydale. She’d do well to remember that you couldn’t just bully anyone who appeared smaller or helpless and there was a touch of that righteous indignation in the corners of her voice.

Mandy and her friends look relieved and all chimed in on how if they’d known in the first place they never would have bothered us and that they were sorry and it would never happen again, but I saw that their auras were more fearful than truly repentant, though there was a touch of understanding there, too, I think. Or maybe I just hoped so for their sake, and for hers too. I know that gypsy lore is full of curses of ill luck on those who cross them, but such things are never to be used lightly, and often don’t really solve the problem. Still, at least things seemed to have ended for the best and without anyone getting seriously hurt. It did surprise me how virulent the curse had turned out to be. That betokened a fair amount of malevolence on her part, perhaps a deep-seated resentment against that kind of treatment. From what she said about her school experience and how Cordelia treated her, I suppose it shouldn’t have been that big of a shock. But I was glad to see things finally resolved.

And I couldn’t help smiling as I recalled that I had bet the situation would be finished in three days, and lo, it had been three days. While the others left, heading back for their rooms or whatever activities they had, I turned to her and sort of bounced on my feet. Here was a chance for a little sweet revenge for her earlier plotting. I couldn’t decide when to spring the news on her, but she must have caught sight of my broad grin or my suddenly buoyant spirit as she remarked, a bit petulantly, that she hadn’t thought the curse was that bad an idea, and that it had worked out more or less all right in the end, though she did admit to being a bit thankful it was done and that maybe Mandy and her group really had learned something or would think twice before bullying someone else and why was I grinning like that already?

I laughed and laughed at her adorable consternation and nervous babble until she started to look cross at me, which of course really made it that much harder to stop. I shuffled her into my room and said as coyly as I could manage that I was just looking forward to my just rewards and wondered if I should conjure a pole for her or not.

She looked confused, which set me off a bit, again. Goddess everything about her is just so endearing, so cute. Is it any wonder I can hardly keep my hands off of her, think of anything else? I got myself under control and mentioned that someone owed someone a nice, long, evocative strip dance, while I turned my desk chair around to face the large, open part of the room we normally did spells in, looking forward to a little more magic in that area.

I watched realization dawn on her a moment later as her mind churned through all the data I’d given her and she exclaimed about the bet and that I’d said three days and that was Sunday night and sure enough, here it was Wednesday night, three days, while a blush started to grow on her face. I added to her discomfort, showing my own fiendish side no doubt, by just smiling, nodding and asking what music she’d like? I couldn’t believe how bold I was being, but the idea of her stripping for me didn’t seem so fantastical or impossible anymore. In fact I really did want to see her body clearly, get to know every part of it. I could feel myself getting increasingly excited the more I thought about it.

Her blush was very deep now, and she said I was enjoying this too much, to which I happily smiled even wider and asked if she had garters or G-strings to stuff dollar bills in? I wickedly enjoyed her discomfort and even tried a little leering at her. That failed miserably and got her laughing, though a moment later she had that look that said she had an idea or just solved something and the smile she turned on me made me shudder in both anticipation and with a little trepidation. What had I just awoken?

She went over to my new CD player and radio and twisted the dials till the sounds of the one lone jazz station drifted quietly from the speakers. She turned back and her face was bright red again, and I think her palms were slick as she wiped them on her hips a couple of times. She fidgeted a little bit and said this would work better if she’d had time to select a proper sequence of music, but…and she took a deep breath and slowly began to twirl away from the shelf and into the center of the room.

I think I gulped and got a little hot-faced myself. The only light was that from the one on the desk and combined with the music and humidity created a sweltering, sultry atmosphere like in some seedy bar. All that was missing was the mix of cigarette and gin aroma. I recall thinking, ‘Goddess, she’s really going to do this!’ And that both excited and made me nervous at the same time.

At first she was a little hesitant, kind of embarrassed and unsure of herself, self-conscious enough to hold back, but as she moved lithely back and forth, swayed her arms to the rhythm, she began to get more and more into it.

Somehow she got her arms gracefully behind her during one twirl and was able to find and lower the dress’s zipper and drag it down enough that her front started to sag showing the top of a strapless bra. A turn and a couple of sideways motions and the zipper was down to the top of her black silk panties. Her skin was a pale ‘V’ above, interrupted only by a black band. The top half of the one piece dress lolled in front of her, flapping as she moved.

She twirled a couple of times, giving me a flash of her small chest straining against the containing fabric, a glimpse of her taut, smooth, stomach, and suddenly I found it was my palms that were starting to sweat.

Finally, she faced me and danced forward, holding her hands out towards me and then sweeping them wide apart as she got closer. She backed off quickly and kicked each shoe off, one after the other, sending each sailing over my head, causing me to chuckle and half smile.

She eased back towards the far side of the room and as she did, perched briefly on the side of the bed, thrusting her chest forward, showing off the arch of her back and the outline of her bust while lowering the zipper with the hand furthest away from me. She stood quickly and sort of shimmied her whole body, shook her rear and languidly lowered the dress while smiling at me over her shoulder. Her lips pursed as she dropped the dress to the floor and stretched each leg in turn about waist high, the step taking her against the corner of the far bookshelf. She thrust her chest against it and then lowered herself down its length, sort of swaying her butt back and forth as she did.

I licked my lips and felt my heart rate increasing as I followed the movement of her calf and leg muscles, watched her underwear tighten and the crack in her rear suddenly become defined and then fade as she moved back and forth. She spun around facing me and danced slowly towards me, her fingers reaching out towards me once more and then flying up above her head.

She turned and thrust her rear at me, again smiling coyly over her shoulder and running her tongue over her lips, and then her fingers. She twirled away as I shifted in my seat and swallowed, the room suddenly very hot and small. My attention was completely focused on her now. A compelling contrast of flesh, black silk, and red hair. It was my dress that seemed too constricting and my breath started coming more quickly.

She ended up facing me in front of the door, and dipped her shoulders, swinging back and forth with the music and reached cross armed under the bottom of her bra, lifting it slowly to reveal her small, pert breasts, and then lowering it back in place and covering them with her arms. She did this once more in profile before turning her back to me and smoothly lifting the garment up and over her head. She shuffled backwards towards me swinging the fabric above her head before abruptly twisting back to face me, less than a foot away. My eyes were pasted to her chest, which bounced slightly as she moved. Something warm and soft caressed my face and I almost jumped as she dragged the bra across the other side of my face, leaving it twirled around my head as she retreated once more.

I swallowed the saliva pooling within my mouth and hastily uncovered my eyes. I could feel the deep stirring within me and the heat continued to build as I watched her hardened nipples raise and lower, the small mounds flatten and dip as she moved her arms. Desire for her made me increasingly moist and my hands virtually shook with the need to run them across her belly, up her sides on onto those incredible breasts.

She advanced towards me again, her chest thrust out a bit and moving first left then right in tune with the music. She got up close and I raised my hands to enfold her, to bring her onto my lap, but her own hands met mine and sort of moved them in circles, then aside as she shook her chest closer and closer to my face. I leaned towards her, mouth open, my breath coming is hot little gasps, to nuzzle at her, but she sort of twisted and though the tip trailed across my face, she avoided my action and let go of my hands, propelling herself backwards while one hand pushed my head backwards.

Goddess, I couldn’t stand it. I wanted her breasts in my mouth, I wanted to run my hands, my tongue, all over her. I needed her fingers within me, relieving the unbearable pressure and heat that had built up in me. I wanted to run my hands along her rear end, feel the cleft there while tasting her inner essence.

I think I might have moaned or mewled and started to rise, saying her name, but she approached me quickly, her arms lifting in front of her and then falling away repeatedly as she came nearer, her head shaking back and forth.

Huskily and short of breath she commanded me to sit and that she wasn’t done yet. That there was no touching allowed and naughty girls would be shown the door. As if to emphasize her words she trailed her hands over mine, a bare inch or less separating us. She ran one hand near my face, the heat from it palpable on my cheek, though again no contact occurred.

Then she gave lie to her words by placing both hands in my hair and gently straddling one of my legs, her own hot moist loin settling on my thigh briefly, before she leapt backwards once again, twirling to the music. My hands reached out for her longingly, but she was beyond my grasp. I almost came out of my seat, but as her hands worked their way into the top of her panties, rubbed at her pubic area and then rolled each side down exposing her delicious hips, I sank back into my chair trying hard not to drool all over myself.

Her hips circled slowly at first, but then picked up speed as she lowered her underwear to the floor. She stepped out of them with one foot while the other kicked the discarded cloth at me. It struck my chest and I must have looked poleaxed as she laughed softly, evilly, and came closer, my eyes drawn to the red mound below her waist and the gentle folds beneath. She came closer, twirling again as she did so, her hands above her head like a skater spinning on ice. She suddenly glided to one side and was beside me, my eyes staring into her navel while the scent of her cascaded over me.

This time her hands did run along the sides of my face and my fingers brushed softly over hers as they did. I swallowed again and remembered to breathe as she rubbed a naked hip along my cheek. She circled behind me and pressed my head back against her belly and I could feel her breasts on the top of my head. She shuddered and rubbed herself against me and I almost jumped as her hands brushed against my chest, caressed my neck and the area in front of my ears.

She spun about me as I swiveled to try and face her, and before I knew it she was before me again, one foot raised on the arm of the chair revealing all of her.

It was too much for me to resist. My dress felt like a suit of armor pressing in and constraining me, I wanted to feel her skin against my body. I burned with passion for her, felt like my heart or groin would burst at any moment if I didn’t embrace her, kiss her wildly, feel her touch me in return. My arms wrapped around her and I kissed her belly, ran my tongue up to her chest and tried to put as much of her in my mouth while my tongue lapped at her. She moaned, shuddered and I lifted her up and carried her over to the bed, depositing her with a flumpf before diving upon her.

We made a frenzied, frantic love that was somehow more intense and scream inducing than any time previously. I don’t even remember how my dress ended up on the floor, though I do have happy images of her naked form beneath me, of hearing her shout my name heedless of any who might be in the adjacent rooms.

Eventually we wound up snuggled together, bathed in sweat, completely happy and satisfied, our heads touching and our eyes still continuing the lovefest our bodies could no longer maintain. We were too tired to even giggle much, so satiated were we. Instead we exchanged little touches, caresses and just lay there enjoying the feel of each other, of the beat of our hearts. I told her I loved her, that she was the most beautiful, special, and wonderful girl in all the world. She said that she loved me, and that I was equally beautiful, special and wonderful. That I made her forget about all the darkness and evil in the world.

Oh, Mother, how can I be evil when such a perfect girl says such things, might actually believe them? It seems like sometimes the universe is just bound and determined to remind me of what I am. There has to be some way to overcome this, to fix it. Maybe it won’t happen to me. Maybe it will skip my generation. Genetic stuff like that happens all the time. For her sake, I have to try and find some way, some spell, that will keep my demon nature hidden or at the very least drive it off. I owe her that, the effort at least to be all that she sees in me. How can it not be true if she sees it?


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 Post subject: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - 16C
PostPosted: Sat Jan 21, 2006 5:50 pm 
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Part 16C




We drifted off to sleep clinging together, enfolded in each other’s arms once again, while outside, the rain began to fall.

I remember the dream starting out with me lying alone on my bed, in the dark while it stormed, thundered and water was rising outside. I had to get out, find shelter, yet I also knew this storm was for me, it was sent to cleanse the wicked from the land and I was amongst the wicked.

I struggled in the faint silver light that illuminated my room to work up the courage to leave, yet somehow I couldn’t. Each flicker of lightning revealed clouds beyond the windows that looked like Father, Donny, and some other older, dark haired woman who must have been the progenitor of our wicked line, for she was reaching out to me and seemed to want me to join with her. For some reason I felt she desired the evil that was inside me, that she’d make it grow and take control of me, cause me to harm those around me, and that there was no way I could allow that.

Despite being incredibly frightened, my heart pounding and that sense of being watched and hunted strong, I rose from my bed and put on my best skin, which showed a dumpy, but doughty, little girl to the world. I wore a robe of the finest concealing nature and went to the door and turned the handle and walked out of my hut and amidst my hometown’s deserted streets. I could hear Father’s voice calling for me, the anger and irritation prevalent making me shrink further into my robe. Donny’s voice called for me as well, cool and mocking, promising to show the sow what she was really worth when he caught her.

Water rose everywhere and was already just above the ankle and the storm poured out its disapproval of the wicked and sought to wash them away so the sun would not be affronted by our presence.

I had to find Willow, she was the only one that could save me, yet she dwelt with the sun or the cats, and I knew they would either melt or eat me; that I couldn’t show myself to such pure ones. I called for her but my robe cloaked my cries and though I saw her walk by with her own friends, she didn’t notice me, no matter how much I ran after her and shouted and waved.

The dark female form in the clouds suddenly noticed her shining red hair, the sparkling green eyes, and a voice that cut through the thunder with a clean note of life and joy, daily concerns and knowledge.

The witch stretched forth a cloudy hand black as my true heart, and the rain redoubled with a dark fury around my sweet girl. Winds assailed her and blew her hair about seeking to rip it from her; they tried to drown out her exultant note, absorb it and alter it into a discordant noise; darts of hail descended to put out those sparkling eyes so that they wouldn’t see the evil that would be done around her, to her.

Panic rose within me and I shouted and shouted to no avail. However, a silver band about her finger shone like a beacon and the rain hissed and slithered away from it, rebounding like so many rubber snakes thrown against a window. The wind parted before it, a flock of dark birds flitted around, tried to land but never finding purchase. The sharp hail struck it with little green sparks, and hopped off, floundering now toad-like amongst the water that had almost risen to her knees.

She couldn’t hold out, not for long. My Father was coming, Donny would join him and they would take everything from her, trample her into the water and the progenitor would have her for sure. And then it would be my turn. Tears streamed from my eyes at the thought of such a flower, strong and beautiful, being plucked, sullied, and placed in a private pot away from the sun, the world, and most especially me.

What could I do? Doubts and fears whispered in my ears, tiny bugs with words like inadequate, ugly, ignorant, dull, plain, and unworthy for wings, a seemingly endless gnat-like swarm, formed a cloud about my head. Their chittering was so loud and distracting; blood started to slowly seep from my nose. I had to do something.

It was her, my girlfriend, my Willow. I had to save her. Had to do anything I could to protect her, make her see the danger she was oblivious to. I reached down and tried throwing a dog at her, but it bounded away without being noticed. The direct approach would never work. I caught site of Donny moving down the street, towering over the rest of the people. He lowered his large, green, ogreish head close to the water and his cavernous mouth opened, sucking all in his path into that gaping maw. A group of four girls, one brightly colored, the others gray and drab, struggled down the street, intent on making it to the other side. A misty, almost skeletal hand surrounded them and seemed to be ushering them towards my brother. They struggled more as he closed, but were swept up into his all devouring orifice. It wouldn’t be long until he was upon her.

I screamed once more and pulled the robe off, throwing it over my brother as he came rampaging by. The gossamer thin garment swept over him and he disappeared from sight, leaving behind four stunned and disconcerted looking girls. The cloud scowled and bent its evil will upon the lightning; a huge bolt slid in slow motion from the sky, hurtling right towards Willow. Screaming, ‘Nooo,’ naked and exposed I ran to her. Her smile turned towards me and suddenly I felt warm, the sun was peaking through the clouds and the waters were nothing but the tall grass in a sylvan meadow. The silver band on my finger flared to life and the sphere around us doubled in size and pushed outwards.

The lightning struck the silver dome like a sledgehammer hitting a balloon, yet as the jagged, scintillating talons crashed into it a second time, were still unable to pierce its skin.

Another colored form appeared atop one of the campus dormitories. It looked like Mother, only different. Worn and haggard, yes, but not sick or ill, perhaps a little thin and partially translucent, though. She wore a simple peasant dress with a light blue milkmaid apron over it and a cheerful yellow bonnet over dark hair. She raised her arms screaming, ‘these ones are not for you,’ while sending a cone of light up into the dark clouds above that warred with the sun that was higher still.

The clouds thundered with laughter and decried the weakness of the maid below and hurtled another bolt of taloned lightning towards her. Again, as if in slow motion, the bolt skittered towards the earth.

The mother-like woman turned and noticed the brightly colored girl amidst the drab companions, still dazed since Donny disappeared. The near transparent figure on the roof stretched forth a broom whose bristles elongated, glowed a brilliant yellow like a lamp and wrapped around the tinted girl and then withdrew, taking the colors into it. When the broom reached the woman on the roof her shape solidified and grew clearer. The bolt of lightning crashed all around, but did not strike her.

The cloud witch cried out her frustration and rage sending another deluge of hail spikes downwards. The lady on the roof twirled her broom and screamed words into the storm that shattered the hail into gray hairs that floated down like snow, blanketing the area.

I turned to her and in our sphere of silver the tall grass bent under a soft breeze and our eyes met and though I was naked and exposed her lips curved upwards into a broad smile as she spoke my name. We embraced and kissed once, the silver barrier around us shimmering brightly with energy while my skin seemed to slough off, leaving a smaller and more nubile form behind.

A small black and white cat licked its paws by my feet and reminded me of something I’d forgotten. I told my girl I knew a spell that would disperse the storm and she said we better do it quickly and pointed back towards the sky. A huge funnel of cloud and winds descended from the dark witch and was trying to smother the other within its cone. Water, buildings and little gray people were sucked up into, and whipped around, the vortex.

We began chanting, her following my lead. Her voice rang like a thousand hammers on a thousand anvils, each a perfect note that seemed to shred the clouds above us. Energy flowed between us and I could feel the tingle of her essence merging with mine. The cyclone swept down and battered the silver light around us. Despite the dark purple sparks that flew about, hundreds of bats that drove themselves against the shield and dissipated into smoke, we were not affected though my hand did begin to hurt.

We finished the spell with a roaring, crackling crescendo that brought the sun fully into view, melting the clouds and dispersing the raging winds. A shrill cry shook the heavens and the land broke apart beneath us and we fell within our silver bubble.

Which is of course when we both sat up with a start, the covers of the bed tossed aside, a silver glow from both of our rings lighting the room clear enough that I could have read by it. I remember looking at her wide eyes and gaping mouth, likely with a similar expression and then shook my hand for the ring was very hot, almost painfully so.

Outside we heard a scream, then several more. We jumped up and went to the window as the silver light faded and the rings began to return to normal. It was no longer raining though the grass was wet and slick from a recent downpour. In the faint light of the campus lamps, through a thickening mist, we saw a group of three girls bent over or kneeling on the lawn around a fourth who was lying unmoving before them. We exchanged looks and quickly found our robes and slippers and rushed down to see what was going on. I had a bad feeling that this was another dead girl, outside our room, and that somehow we were responsible for what was going on.

We dashed out of the front, down the steps and over to the girls and both recognized Mandy and her friends. The one lying on the ground was Jill, or something like that I thought, but wasn’t certain. I think we both expected cries of outrage or hurled accusations but instead they all had relieved and maybe even a bit desperate looks. Mandy said she was so glad that we were there, and the others expressed their agreement.

Willow quirked an eyebrow at me and then asked what happened? All three started answering at once before Mandy shushed them. I nervously bent down over the supine girl and saw that she was still breathing, not dead after all, thank the Goddess and God.

Mandy related that they had gone to sleep and for once nothing strange had happened, no glass of water falling off the shelf and landing all over the bed, no bird flying into the window and shattering it, nothing weird at all. Until they found themselves out here in the rain without remembering how they got there. Something had a cold and wet grip on them, it seemed boney and spectral, sort of formed from the mist and none of them had been able to move. A little whirlwind had risen up around them and it felt like they were being cut or torn apart. They displayed various nicks and abrasions to show that they weren’t just making it up or trying to trick us.

Suddenly a silver light had shot out of our room, well, they didn’t actually know it was our room till they saw us looking down at them and Mandy also mentioned that we should at least put some clothes on when looking out as we were, like, pretty visibly naked, which made both of us blush and I quickly glanced down letting my hair cover my face. I did notice that she didn’t make any snide comment or barb about that, however. Willow noted the same thing and I think shot me a pretty satisfied little look.

The cloudy thing went away and they were just getting over the numbness when Jill went stiff and toppled over. They thought they saw a sort of translucent broom or at least what looked like bristles glowing a faint yellow sweep over her. She was still breathing, but nothing they could do would revive or rouse her. Willow asked what they tried and they replied simply everything: poking, pushing, slapping, even wiping wet grass on her face; one held up a green clump as evidence of this attempt.

I told Willow that Jill’s aura looked ruptured, like something had been taken from her, as if a part of her essence or soul had been stolen. I remembered the one woman who kinda resembled Mother in the dream drawing the color out of a girl and this seemed too conveniently similar to be coincidence. She asked if I could tell what had been taken and so I looked more closely at the girl, trying to determine what might be missing. It took me a little while, and I could vaguely hear Mandy and the others thanking Willow for rescuing them, especially after all the grief they’d given us. I’m not sure how she responded.

It was obvious once I made the connection. The girl’s life essence was fine, her body was uninjured, but a small part of her had been removed; the section that dealt with magical power and ability. Everyone has the capacity to use magic, to one extent or another, but some just have more talent for it than others. I think I’ve written before that the Craft is more like an art than a science. This is true and some, like my girl, have a great natural aptitude, an inherent ability with it that makes them potentially very powerful. Jill had more latent potential than any of the others, and that part had been ripped out of her. It wouldn’t kill her or even hinder her life much, but she’d be slightly less intuitive, maybe a bit less creative, have less insight into what others might be feeling or thinking. All these things seemed to be tied to occult ability, but weren’t needed to live a normal life, though to others she might seem more plain or drab.

I told everyone what I had found, or at least the basics, I’d explain to her later in more detail. I thought I could mend the ragged edges and see that their friend recovered all right, though she’d still be groggy and sort of dazed for a day or so.

One of them brought up that a girl was killed here a few nights ago and wondered if it were related. Willow and I shared another glance and she said that it probably was, but that we’d do everything we could to see that nothing like this happened again. For now, though, it might be better if they stayed with friends in another dorm, or even better off campus. It might take us a while to figure out what was going on and it could still be dangerous for them.

Mandy asked what was going on in a whiney tone. Was this some residual part of the curse, were we really that pissed at them? Willow let out her breath and stated that no, this wasn’t part of that, she really had removed it, and was sorry that she’d used it. She really didn’t mean for it to be so powerful. Unfortunately, what happened tonight wasn’t part of the curse, and it would take some work on our part to find out what was going on.

Our blonde, former antagonist, sighed and said she got why it’d been necessary. She shouldn’t have been such a bigoted idiot, or shot her mouth off. She guessed she’d just been repeating her parents’ attitudes without even really thinking about them. Why what we did in private should matter to her one way or the other she didn’t know. She’d just been stupid, apologized again, and hoped that we’d forgive her and could set things right soon.

Ah, my sweet Willow was gracious, said she was sorry too, that maybe they’d both learned a lesson, and that she just had a thing with bullies from high school. It was something she’d have to work on, but she also hated seeing someone picking on me. She took my hand while she said it, and I had to look down again. She let go, I think realizing how uncomfortable I felt, and speculated that maybe everything ended up for the best. Mandy and the others nodded their ascent and I sort of stuttered that I’d need some of the herbs from our room to help Jill.

While I went back to the room and got what I needed, she stayed behind to ask them a few more questions on what they’d seen and felt. When I got back they were all looking at another tree with a blackened limb, and I noted that was at least the second one struck by lightning in the area. The stars shone brightly in a clear night sky, though not too long before a thick clouds began to obscure them again. I shivered slightly though it wasn’t very cold, and set about casting the spell to bring the unconscious girl around.

It wasn’t a particularly long or flamboyant spell, just a short chant, a little burning incense, a soft golden glow around the motionless form, and then she started to stir. The others helped her up and thanked us once again before heading off. We smiled at each other and were both relieved that things seemed to have improved between them and us. It was good to have things resolved and no one harboring any grudges. Surprisingly, she said as much and I told her I was so proud to hear her apologize and make up. Like I should be one to judge, however. I’d approved of what she did initially. Who am I to act so superior?

Still she just smiled at me and said I was a good influence on her. She rested her head against my shoulder and put an arm around my waist. Walking back to the dorm in our robes with her pressed near reminded me how lucky I was, how much my life has changed in just three short months. Goddess, to have gone from someone living in a gauze, isolated and not feeling anything, to being hopelessly in love and hoping beyond hope that the person I’d fallen for might notice me, to this…it still takes my breath away almost as much as she does. At times like that, walking peacefully together, words unnecessary, we feel so close, so part of one another, it’s almost as if I can’t tell where I stop and she starts. It sounds silly, but the connection between us has just kept growing and deepening. I hope it never stops…though, in truth it is a little frightening. Will I always be what she wants, what she needs? Am I worthy of her? Damn my demonic side.

We walked back to my room in silence, and once there she went and closed the drapes on the window. I blushed again, remembering Mandy’s comments, and gave her a half smile of embarrassed encouragement. I lit a couple candles and we sat together on the bed, our backs against the propped up pillows. It was definitely time for some consideration and reflection over what was happening.

I started by asking her if she’d had a strange dream tonight, and when she nodded I got the sense that we’d had the same dream, again. When she began relating hers, and I was able to describe what happened as well as she did, it was pretty obvious we’d indeed had the same one. It was also strange that the one woman with the broom had looked to both of us sort of like our mothers. It was almost as if whoever that was, was trying to induce our sympathy or trust. True, she’d fought against the darker, cloudy image, but I thought that was her misty hand, or perhaps a spell of hers, that held what was probably Mandy and her friends. She said they’d been swept up into a giant frog-faced man and I didn’t mention that I’d seen Donny instead. I made a mental note to find out why frogs scared her so much and asked if she thought they were really dreams or something else? She responded with ‘like what?’ and I had to admit I couldn’t figure what else it could be.

She asked how I’d known that spell to drive off the storm, and I told her that I’d found it earlier in the spellbook she’d gotten me. It had to be more than coincidence that it’d been there. The more I thought of it, the further along in the book I’d gone, the more the weather and dreams had started to become increasingly odd, storm based with a sense of something out there trying to get at me, her, or us.

She agreed that it had to be related; the big question was how? I didn’t get an evil feel from the book, and it didn’t give off an aura like a living being. Maybe it had a curse on it? It definitely seemed to prey on my mind. I recalled the sensation of wanting, needing, to continue the translation, despite all that was going on in my life. Whether sad or happy, I had still felt a compulsion to go through it.

She added that she’d felt it too, been drawn by the age, the luster of the cover, intrigued by the secrets it held; desired to delve into all that it contained. And suddenly her face fell, her eyes filled and her hand sought out mine. She looked at me and I saw that Willow-panic fill her and sure enough she unleashed a torrent of babble, saying she’d just come across the book in the magical shop, while visiting Stanford at that, she’d wanted to bring me back something and instead of making happy memories she’d gotten some evil cursed book and that wasn’t at all what she’d intended and I deserved so much more because I’d been so sweet and understanding and here she’d gone and made things worse…

I cut her off with a soft kiss on her cheek, and then one on her precious, sweet lips. She sat upon the edge of the bed and I knelt before her, holding her hands in mine, trying desperately to quench her rising anguish. I hushed her and said that it wasn’t her fault, it was probably just the Hellmouth’s influence, drawing the book to it, bringing all things demonic and evil to Sunnydale and as I said it I froze.

Damn it. It seemed too obvious, too convenient, too right not to apply to me as well. I mean, what were the odds that I’d make it to a place like this without any outside help? Evil calls to Evil, that’s what Father always says and here I was, in Sunnydale, with the Hellmouth. Oh, Mother, is there any more likely evidence that I’m evil, that my demonic heritage is as strong and bad as Father always said? Just like that evil book, here I am, just one more disgusting demon amidst all the others. Goddess, how could I have been so blind? Even now my eyes still blur and my breath gets short just thinking about it. She deserves so much better, so much more. This is going to drive me crazy. I don’t know how I can ever accept this. Why is life so unfair?

No, I won’t accept it. I just need to concentrate on her, remember her hands, her lips, the feel of her body surrounding mine. The feel of her, within, without, a scent that smells so good it excites me beyond my wildest fantasies. She’s my anchor, she’s what will keep the demon in me at bay, I just know it. That’s all I can hope for. She’s so good and pure, everything that I’m not.

She saw my distress, the look of fear and trepidation that must have been oh so evident. She got concerned and worried, asking me what was it, did I think the book was somehow tied to the Hellmouth? She told me that we’d figure it out, that we’d check with Mr. Giles tomorrow, get his help, stop whatever was going on before someone else, or even one of us, got hurt.

She put her arms around me, drew us together and held me close, cradling my head on her warm chest. It never ceases to astound me how she can do that, know exactly what needs to be done, make me feel good, wanted. I told her I loved her, that I’d never let her go and she kissed the top of my head and said I better not, because she was holding on for good, too.

I got up and we slid back into bed, snuggling together and letting further discussion of the book and the strange dreams lapse till the morning. I felt nothing but the rise and fall of her chest, the soft caresses of her hands on mine. She snuffed the candles with telekinesis and we settled in and eventually fell into a dreamless sleep.


Continued immediately below...


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 Post subject: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - Part 16D
PostPosted: Sat Jan 21, 2006 5:53 pm 
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9. Gay Now

Joined: Mon Apr 25, 2005 9:54 pm
Posts: 947
The last portion of Part 16, 16D




I awoke the next morning with her spooned up behind me as I slept on my side. Her arm was pressed tightly against my belly, while the other seemed to be somewhere behind me. I kinda leanded further back into her, and she stirred slightly. I could feel her other hand stroke my hair, her lips ghost against the back of my neck where she’d moved the hair aside. I must have murmured my happiness at her touch as she gave me a little lick and sort of held me tighter for a moment. I pressed her arm harder into me, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted her on top of me, her weight pressing down, her hair forming a red halo around her beautiful face, just so I could feel how real she was, taste her lips and fully know that this girl was there for me.

I did sort of turn and faced her, said good morning and really meant it. Sure we had some strange book or spirit trying to do something to us, but what did that matter when she was here? I rolled her onto to me and embraced her, gave her a deep kiss, which she eagerly returned. She giggled a little and asked if I still wasn’t satisfied? I responded I could never get enough of her, there was no overdose possible, but I was just thanking the Goddess for her being in my life. I’m afraid I got a little too sappy and told her that she was the only real light in my life, what I drew breath for. I’d never, ever, expected to have someone so far out of my league, beyond any of my dreams, want me in return. It left me stunned and breathless and sometimes it was just enough to hold her, feel her, and know that she existed.

She looked back at me and I could see her eyes water up, a couple of happy tears spill over for she was smiling at me with such unabashed emotion, a joy and love that made me smile back at her through my own blurred eyes. I felt a couple of drops strike my face and she said that that was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to her, that if I wasn’t careful I’d make her heart get all explodey. She took a breath, swallowed and said I made her believe.

I asked her, ‘believe in what?’ and she replied, ‘everything.’

She kissed me once then, softly, her tongue the most delicious nectar, all of her electric, so much like a long drawn perfect note against me that I thought it was my heart that would explode. I opened my eyes to see hers just inches from mine and she said, ‘you make it all worthwhile. Everything we do, everything we fight for, against. All the evil we see, all the badness is more bearable. Having you with me makes me believe in life, in living.’

We kissed again and held one another for what seemed like forever, our hearts thudding wildly against each other, our eyes closed, just being there. Eventually of course, even her slight weight got to be uncomfortable, the heat to the sticky stage and she rolled off towards her side of the bed.

Ah, Mother, she’s got a side of the bed! Hers, and it’s part of mine! We’re a couple! Lovers. Goddess…



So do I cry more when I’m happy or sad? What a blubber-baby I’ve become. I know, or expect at least, that things will level out a bit sometime. She’ll become a stable, and perhaps staple, part of my life, no longer the fresh, new, and entirely unanticipated thing, hopefully never taken for granted or just part of the tableau. But still, for now the tumult of emotion is so strong, overwhelming in its intensity. I never imagined it would be like this, really it’s so much better and yet more bewildering, a rollercoaster hurtling at such speeds, around sharp, unseen curves and sudden heights. Does that mean I should expect equally precipitous drops or lows? Goddess let that not be true. Don’t let me sabotage this with my own fears and doubts. Give me the strength to guard against self-fulfilling prophecy.

I am strong, I am beautiful, I have worth, she’s said so and I know it. My demon side has to be controllable or maybe is even in remission, hibernation. She wouldn’t, couldn’t, love anything evil. Maybe if I repeat this enough times I’ll really believe it. I won’t let Father and Donny win.

We eventually got out of bed, after a little more kissing, a little taste of her to start the day, though not so much that we became lost in each other. The matter of the book pressed at the back of our minds and knowing that someone had already been killed made the whole situation that much more important.

So we broke apart, did the bathroom thing, and then went down to the cafeteria for some breakfast. As we ate we went over the dream from last night, the one before that, and all that Mandy and her friends had said. The big question was how metaphorical, how symbolic, were they? Were they literal, and if so where were we? I pointed out that our rings seemed to be working very well, and that without them we might not have survived, assuming we could be hurt wherever it was, though she expressed the opinion that with these sort of things here, near the Hellmouth, it always seemed like you could get hurt for real, no matter how fantastical the situation. Unfortunately, I had to agree.

The storm imagery appeared pretty constant, and was definitely dark and threatening. It didn’t look at all natural in our dreams or in the real world, and I suggested that the force behind it was probably evil. It certainly seemed to be the one that tried to do something horrible to Mandy and the others and sent all sorts of weather magics against us with harmful intent.

She agreed and thought that would be a good research track, powerful yet evil weather spirits, deities or demons, those who worshipped them or were reputed to have those powers combined with an influence over dreams.

Of course she’d brought her array of colored markers and started a new notebook with our observations and began color coding them in some manner that likely only she could follow. I smiled as she happily collected our thoughts and she gave me that, ‘What?’ look which made me start to laugh despite the seriousness of our endeavor.

I sipped my orange juice and picked at the dorm waffles wishing I had Mother’s waffle iron here so I could make her a real breakfast. Goddess did I want to cook for her? The notion came entirely unbidden, but nonetheless strong for it.

I filed that away for later and brought up the other figure, was she good or not? She said that it had looked sort of like her mother, while I thought it looked kinda like mine and that made us both suspicious. It was like this being was trying too hard to win us over, set us at ease. After all, she was the one who ripped Jill’s magical ability from her. That wasn’t a good thing, even if it hadn’t killed her, and we didn’t know which one was responsible for the death of that other girl.

She switched pens and started a new page labeled ‘First Dead Girl’ and under that she wrote in a column: name, dorm, major, time of death, location, morgue, cause of death, magical aptitude, friends, class schedule, burial location, outstanding factors. She stopped there and looked at me for any suggestions but that was more than I would have thought of. I’d just figured we’d need to find out who she was and how she died. I guess experience is important in these things.

I also pointed out that she might not actually be the first dead girl. We’d do well to find out if any others had collapsed like Jill, or been killed. I bet Riley with all his Initiative contacts could tell us if there had been others, but she reminded me that he sort of resigned or was at least a fugitive from them now, ever since he’d tried to help Oz escape that is.

As soon as she said it, she looked up and apologized, saying she wasn’t thinking and shouldn’t have brought him up, not so soon after he came back. I finished chewing my sausage, swallowed, and put a hand on her arm while shaking my head. I told her she didn’t have to be careful or sorry on my account. Oz had been an important part of her life. He would always be in her memories, in a part of her heart that was meant for him and not me. I was OK with that; it was good and natural. I didn’t really feel threatened by him or what they had, at least not now. She shouldn’t feel that there was anything she had to be careful speaking about while I was present. I loved her and accepted that she’d had a life before me. I couldn’t help giving her a half grin here and adding, ‘no matter how empty and meaningless it might have been.’

She gave me that look again, and asked if she’d told me how fantastic I was and how much she loved me lately? I smiled and said only a few times today and that she spoiled me rotten with such flattery.

We grinned like fools at each other, our eyes met, and it was like staring into the very face of heaven itself. Goddess, such understanding, compassion, love, all there and being directed at me. Even now it raises the hair on my arms, makes me want to swoon just thinking about it. Hah, what a love-sick schoolgirl I am! Still, it’s something I never want to lose, that feeling of wonder and cherishing every little thing about her.

Eventually I asked how we’d find out if anything else strange had happened near my dorm? She thought about it a moment, taking a few bites to eat, and then brightened saying the people at the front office in the morning would probably have noticed, either when they came in or if the campus police stopped by to ask them what they knew. Either way, that was a good place to start and she began writing down some questions to ask them.

I recalled that I’d heard voices, laughing, in the rain, or at least in the middle of the night, more than once and at the time thought it was just students partying or something. Maybe they’d been brought to the area like Mandy and her friends? I suggested that perhaps I should observe those that ate in the cafeteria here and see if any had damaged auras. That might tell us something, like if either of the figures had been active extensively, or for how long, though it can sometimes be hard to determine that unless you know the person well. A person’s energy flow changes so frequently in subtle ways.

She thought it was worth a try and that there was no time like the present; so I stood up and took a long, slow look around. I then went back to the serving area and got a banana and some more milk, and took my time surveying the room. It was actually pretty shocking, seeing how many people had ruptured auras. None had their potential ripped out of them like Jill, but over a dozen had that portion reduced or damaged. It seemed to me like something had been feeding on them, slowly leeching out whatever magical potential they might have had. When I got back my face must have been a little drained as she remarked that I didn’t look well, and I told her what I’d seen.

She grimaced slightly, made a notation and then sighed. She said one of the stops would have to be to Mr. Giles and Buffy and see what they thought about all this. She would have gone to them anyway, but maybe that should get moved up a bit as this could be pretty serious. I agreed, this definitely seemed like Scooby business, though I could tell she’d wanted to solve the problem without their aid. I’d hoped that her coming out to Buffy would have helped clear the air between them, but apparently that wasn’t fully the case.

I changed the subject by bringing up the second woman, or being, again. I’d remembered seeing the house where we lived with the cats before in other dreams, or at least aspects of it. Maybe that was her home, or a representation of it? Perhaps the woman in the storm was trying to destroy the first? And while I was tossing things around, I wondered what was up with all the cats anyway? That seemed to be more than just me wanting one.

She shrugged and said that was one more question, though perhaps not quite as pressing. Maybe they were like guides or something? I didn’t get that sense, exactly, but figured Mr. Giles would know.

So now came the big question – the book and what to do with it? We’d need to research Golina more, find out who she really was, if she’d even existed at all, what had happened to her, where and when. All that and determine if the book was hers or possibly someone else’s. I wondered if the spells I’d found in there were safe to cast or not, and that something about them seemed important though I couldn’t think what at the moment.

She said it would come to me and the spell I used last night definitely came in handy. She opined that it would be a good idea if I maybe copied them down so she and Mr. Giles could both look at them, see if there was anything strange or hidden within the directions. But, she cautioned me not to do it until she was present, just in case.

Unfortunately, we both had class this morning, so the plan was to question those at the front desk, go to class, check the cafeteria during lunch while grabbing a quick meal and then copy the spells before afternoon class. Since I have a free period while she’s in class I figured I’d work in the Journal while waiting for her. It’d at least take my mind off any desire to translate more of the book.

We finished eating, our plan set, and then went to the front office. She asked her questions while I observed everyone’s auras. None of them had been affected, but they had such low magical potential I wasn’t too surprised. Apparently one other girl, Sandra Ramonez, had been found Monday morning passed out in front of the dorm. Some students leaving for an early morning jog had come upon her and, being unable to wake her, had called the campus police. They’d taken her to the Lennert Health Center on campus. We learned that the girl who died was Kristen Matthews, but that name was also unfamiliar.

With a quick call to Lennert we found out that Sandra had been there for just a day and then recovered well enough to go back to her dorm. She said she’d do some hacking between two of her classes and find out all she could on each student. We parted with a goodbye touch, neither of us quite willing to kiss in public.

Class was dull, slow, seemed to drag on forever. It’s just so hard to stay interested while all this is going on. How does she do it? Juggle school and her Scooby life? I keep worrying that whatever these beings are they’re out to get her, or maybe the both of us, specifically. I’ve been studying and practicing magic since I was little, I’d hate to have that ripped out of me. And her, she’s got such potential, the talent is there, the ability is enormous, if something is feeding or living off that, she’s definitely in danger. It might be that the only reason we’re still unaffected is the rings we gave each other. I thank the Goddess I put so much effort into hers, I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to her. But how long will they continue to protect us? Mine felt like it was going to burn up by the end of the last dream. I couldn’t stand it if she got hurt, not now, not when I’ve just found her and things are so good.

Goddess, watch over my Willow.



TBC…


Note: The poem at the start is mine. The next part is already a tad longer. Sigh...


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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Sun Jan 22, 2006 5:36 am 
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14. Lesbo Street Cred
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Joined: Sun Apr 24, 2005 1:39 pm
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It's nice to see Tara starting to really believe she might be able to overcome whatever 'demon' is inside her. Just as long as she doesn't worry about it, I'm fine with it.

Willow is quite an acomplished pole-dancer ain't she? :P It probably helps that her audience was already fairly in the mood and paying attention :).

About that Mandy-curse which I never liked... glad we're rid of that. I doubt it will have all that much long-term effect anyway, you can't force people to like you. They'll pretend of course, based on fear as Tara already saw happening. Heck, Willow and Tara helping Jill after whatever attacked her did much more to improve their status I think :-).

Speaking of the evil thingie... it seems a bit like the Good Cop/Bad Cop set-up, where the evil person creates both a good and a bad person. Obviously it hadn't guessed Willow and Tara would have the same dream and discuss it with each other. That makes the trickery a bit obvious. I wonder why the trickery is needed though... what did Jill dream about for example??

Yeah those rings have proven to be usefull indeed. A good thing too, since Tara expended considerable energy on it. To keep 'her Willow' safe indeed... so cute :flower

I liked Willow making several reservations for the restaurant. Smart idea and indeed they were somewhat *cough* delayed *cough*

Now I'm off to re-read the previous chapters a bit, haven't had much time for that. Thanks for updating!

Grimmy

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"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it."
-- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine


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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Sun Jan 22, 2006 6:10 pm 
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8. Vixen
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Ohooo, thank you so much for updating! And at such length too... you made me very happy.
It's getting creepy, isnt it? Nice twist! i really wonder whats behind all this... I have my theories but i dont wanna embarass myself :)
I just love the endearing words and the smoochies between Willow and Tara. Also, thank you for not making Tara wear pale blue and Willow an esmerald green dress. Not that i dont like stories that do that but i think there are enough of them and i like that you changed that (intentionally?)
Again: great update! Dont make us wait another year, kay? I just love this fic too much.

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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Mon Jan 23, 2006 10:01 pm 
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I am loving this. I am away from the board for a week, and some of my favorite stories are updated.

I am glad you are able to continue this.

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Tara: Willow, I got so lost.
Willow: I found you. I will always find you.


Last edited by The Rose24 on Sat Feb 04, 2006 7:16 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Fri Jan 27, 2006 11:19 am 
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9. Gay Now

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Thanks everyone for the responses and for still being interested in this story. It has been a long time and I certainly hope the next update is not so long in coming. It is about 3/4 done, but so was the last one so that might not mean a lot. I do want to get back to the eps, do Yoko Factor which I always liked and finish up the season.

Grimlock, thanks for the extensive comments as always. The deal with the curse and Mandy is now done, but we will see a little more of her, I think. And yeah, the whole business helping them probably did more than the curse itself. And I felt the rings should end up being an important point, they also will come up again. Glad you liked the update.

Willowrulez, I don't recall a lot of fics with Willow in green and Tara blue, but I could see that. However, given the hair colors, I like the reverse. Of course being male, my fashion sense for women is probably pretty sad as those I know tend to wear jeans and t-shirts/sweat shirts and not dresses. Glad you liked the creepy aspects, there should be a bit more of that and then some resolution next time. And a bit of Giles too.

Rose24, another from when this was first posting. Glad you saw it and were able to enjoy the continuation. Hopefully you'll see more in February, or March at the worst. Crosses fingers! :)

Keep the comments coming and til next time,

Garner


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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Sat Jan 28, 2006 4:40 pm 
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4. Extra Flamey
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Hi Garner,
Just wanted say thank you for this amazing update. I've read this fic a few times and kept hoping it'd continue... and wow. Thanks! *is all warm and fuzzy*

:bow

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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Tue Jan 31, 2006 5:41 am 
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10. Troll Hammer
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i havent finished reading all of it, but i just wanted to say that i absolutely love this story! it really captured tara's essence in my opinion... and the way you write resonates deep inside my imagination... i still have a long way to go before i finish with everything written so far, but i really am enjoying what i've been reading... if not for the latest posts, i would never have found this story! i'm glad to hear you're okay and finally able to continue with this wonderful story!

okay, that's it for now... i'm off to continue with the reading!

later!

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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Sun Feb 12, 2006 10:14 am 
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9. Gay Now

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Sadie, glad I was able to please you and that you kept with the story. It's awfully long to read more than once, but I guess when the stupid writer doesn't update for a year...hopefully that won't happen again.

Tarebear, yeah, if one doesn't update an older story it sort of lies forgotten deep down on Pens. There are others there of note too, unfortunately some of them will probably never get finished. I was hoping UnionJill would finish Songs for a Mix Tape, but oh well. Still, glad you noticed this one and are going through it, hope the later parts are as good as the beginning.

I am still working on the next part so I am sort of still on schedule for a early March update, all things staying the same and going well, that is. :)

Garner


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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Sat Feb 18, 2006 5:10 pm 
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4. Extra Flamey
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Garner, I hope I didn't sound all complainy ;) I think it's great that you take the time to write this :) I hope all is going well!

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'Tara Tarantula. Hairy black legs. Now that's a thought.'
-Sleek, Three Words


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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Tue Mar 07, 2006 11:30 pm 
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10. Troll Hammer
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I started reading this story on Extraflamey and thought I would never get the chance to read another chapter :cry ...and lo and behold I find it here in Pens. :applause Yeah!!! :applause I'm soooo happy. :-D I am greatful for wonderful writers such as yourself who take the time to keep :willow & :tara alive in our minds & our hearts through your words and imagination.
Thank You!! :bounce

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 Post subject: Re: From the Journal of Tara MaClay - New Fic
PostPosted: Sun May 27, 2007 8:51 am 
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I read it completely again! Garner, you rock! :clap Maybe there's that update on the way? :pray


Ps. Sorry everyone to be bumping this! I just felt I needed to praise Mr Garner again and let everyone know how great this fic is ;)

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-Sleek, Three Words


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