Well, it has been and awfully long time and while you all might have thought this was dead, I really have been getting a little done. This part proved harder to write than the last one actually. Odd that, but stories surprise you sometimes. Anyway, this is shorter than normal, but rather than wait longer and since this is at a good break I thought I would finally update. I hope you all remember what was going on and are still interested in this.
Title: From the journal of Tara MaClay Pt. 15
Rating: NC – 17, kinda.
Summary: The events the morning after New Moon Rising, before Yoko Factor in Season 4.
Note: Written August-November (yeah, this took too long) 2004. The entries are no longer consecutive days, some gaps may appear. This isn’t an interlude, exactly, but what occurs the morning after NMR and the beginning of the conclusion of some hanging threads. Well, I suppose that makes it an interlude anyway, oh well. It will be finished next part and then on to Yoko Factor.
                                        AFTER
Wednesday afternoon continued… I fell asleep in my Willow’s arms, nestled against her completely satisfied and happy for maybe the first time in my life. I don’t know how I ever managed to drift off to sleep after having finally been able to show her how much I loved her. Oh, Goddess, to be so close and completely a part of someone like that is almost more than I can handle. Nothing previous comes close to how wonderful that was, and blessed be, still is.
My dreams that night were even more vivid than normal. She and I were walking in a sort of meadow area; tall grass, already a light brown from the summer heat, surrounded us. A small river or large stream gurgled nearby, and we could hear frogs, insects and occasionally a bird would leap into the sky in a burst of feathers and flapping. A number of trees were scattered around as well, only they were sort of short and squat.
        We walked hand in hand, sort of bumping shoulders and glancing shyly at each other now and then. We each had on a one-piece pullover dress of light blue or yellow, with small designs on them. She looked so beautiful and I knew that the path we were following lead to our cottage, and that once we got there…I could feel a surge of desire that had every promise of being fulfilled. It had been a long journey, and though we each seemed kinda tired, anticipation filled her eyes as much as mine.
        The little house came into view and it was perfect. It stood some thirty or forty feet tall, with massive doors that swung open from hinges along the top. Big windows with wide ledges were evident, yet no plants or flowers graced them. A large bank of dark gray, almost black, clouds had formed off in the distance, across the brook, and was moving swiftly with a wind that tugged at our dresses, pressing them more firmly against us, which I noticed showed off her chest and legs very nicely. The heat within me increased, and I licked my lips. She smiled at me and gave a bright look that was inviting and thrilling at the same time.
        Lightning flickered amongst the clouds of the oncoming storm, and I noticed that some of the nearby trees had great white gashes on them where limbs had fallen to the ground revealing the inner wood beneath. A few seemed all blackened and scorched.
        We looked at each other and suddenly the whole area darkened. Heavy drops of water began falling, infrequent at first, but then with an almost pounding regularity. The roll of thunder crashed around us and suddenly everything blazed a bluish-white as lightning struck a tree just ten feet away. There was a tremendous cracking and crash that threw us to the ground. We both looked the picture of ridiculous with our hair hanging wetly against our heads, our dresses soaked and hanging limply from our bodies while little rivulets of water streamed down from our shoulders and gathered force along the path around us.
        The lightning continued to flicker down all around, sending wave after wave of sound shuddering through the ground and making us cringe with each blow. I noticed that the immediate area was brighter, somehow, than the rest of our surroundings. A silver light seemed to illuminate us. I looked over at her and the ring on her left hand was glowing brilliantly. The little engravings upon it were shining a pure white, while the rest was a deeper silver color. I lifted my hand up and saw that the ring upon it was similarly alight.
        The door flapped upwards and open, and a large black and white cat bounded out of the house. It towered far above us so that all we saw was its white belly, spotted with darker fur, a black chin and enormous whiskers that seemed to stretch out forever. A second, more white than black, feline joined the first, and then seemed to look up at the sky in disdain, before regarding the immediate vicinity as if looking for something.
        Another, closer, bolt made us sort of jump and throw our arms around each other. We were suddenly terrified and as our hearts raced faster, threatening to burst from our chests, a tiny filament of silver and white ran from the rings towards each of the cats and sort of surrounded them.
        Their heads swept towards us, and in a flash they had leapt nearby, their paws sending a splash of water over us. Large toothed mouths descended and opened and carefully grabbed the fabric of our dresses and we were lifted quickly above the ground. In a giant, yet surprisingly gentle, bound we were before the house and then borne inside.
        Two kittens sat in the cottage licking milk from a saucer big enough we could have swum in it. A giant table dominated the immediate right, while a loft filled with straw stretched across the back with a massive mound of blankets beneath it. Other bowls, chairs, a fireplace and various farming implements seemed to be scattered about.
        I was jarred in a bone-rattling leap as the cat carrying me leapt up into the loft, and then dropped me on a quilt amongst the straw. A big, raspy tongue pressed me down into the crinkly straw a couple of times, before I heard a retreating thud as the cat jumped back down. A moment later she was deposited next to me and also given similar attention. The little silver-white cords of light continued to extend from our rings to the felines, who were now moving about down below us, apparently occupied in domestic pursuits.
        I shivered once, the chill of the drenching and the fear making goosebumps rise on my arms. She looked over at me wetly, her eyes sort of large and still scared, probably mirroring my own.
        I quickly slipped the wet dress over my head and put it at the edge of the loft. The air on my naked form made it seem even cooler than it had been before.
        She hadn’t moved, just sat there shivering and looking sort of stunned. I went over to her and touched her hand, felt the electrical tingle flood through my arm, into my chest, and saw her begin to relax. I murmured something about getting her out of the wet dress and she lifted her arms as I slipped it off of her. I took it to hang from the edge near mine and then returned to sit next to her.
        Her luscious body shook and she looked so forlorn sitting there all naked, her hair hanging in wet strands about her head. I drew her against me and felt the heat of her body beneath chilled, wet skin. The touch was magical, exhilarating, so soft and silky with a pliancy that made my heart run faster still.
        Suddenly she was atop me and her lips were questing for mine. We kissed and kissed and the world around us sort of blurred or faded out as our hands roamed, our mouths and tongues caressed each other. The previous coldness was forgotten as a new heat rose enveloping both of us and was eventually satiated. Our thrashing, moans and gasps seemed to have no affect on the other occupants of the cottage, who went about their inscrutable feline business while the storm continued to expend its violence outside.
        I remember waking up with a jolt just after screaming her name, impossible waves of pleasure and joy seeming to almost tear my body apart.
        The room was still dark, but the usual campus lights filtered in, and the blinking glow of the clock told me the power was back on. A gentle patter of rain struck the windows and for a moment I swore I heard laughter from outside our room.
        However, her warm body was plastered against mine, sweat slickened the areas where we were pressed together, and she sort of whimpered or moaned softly, kind of pleasurably, and it reminded me of similar sounds she’d made in the dream.
        Dream…I had to still be dreaming. There was no way the most spectacularly splendid woman in all of creation was lying naked next to me, that we’d made love, been completely intimate with each other. It had to be some trick, a fantasy suddenly turning into a nightmare that would end with her body opening to devour me with teeth that ran from her shoulders to her feet. Love wasn’t a part of my life, it couldn’t be. Evil creatures with a demonic heritage aren’t allowed such things.
        My senses had to be deceiving me. She couldn’t be lying beside me, the small soft hairs below her waist tickling my thigh, her arm pressed just below the rise of my bare chest. Goddess my memory had to be wrong. There was no chance she’d chosen me over Oz, said she loved me, given herself to me. It must be a dream, some sort of test or setup. Any moment Father would burst in and berate me for my wickedness and weakness. None of this could be real.
        My heart began racing, my breath shot in and out while my eyes fearfully searched the darkness about for some indication of what was truly happening, where the catch was. A wave of panic seized me, perhaps I was still in the closest and the beast was toying with me again? Or maybe, somehow, it had returned?
        My chest rose and fell in rapid and irregular swells. My head moved from side to side as I strained to see what waited out in the dark, hidden and watching, ready to pounce, laugh and ridicule me for my stupid, frivolous belief that I was worthy of love from someone so amazing and special, a divine creature the complete opposite of my base nature.
        Her soft voice speaking my name almost shattered my mind. Obviously my sudden movement had wakened her, and I could feel her shift her head and lean on an elbow to look up at me. One of her hands clasped my bare belly and I felt her silky hair brush my chest as she placed a soft kiss on my breast.
        My body shuddered, but not in pleasure. This couldn’t be real, she could never love me. She’d know what I was, would see the demon inside me and never allow herself to get so close, risk corruption.
        Tears spilled from my eyes and I must have drawn back from her, my head still shaking back and forth and little, ‘no’s,’ coming from my mouth. I didn’t deserve anything like this, it couldn’t be happening, not to me. I wanted to leap from the bed and run screaming out into the rain. This was too much, too cruel. To be teased by what I’d wanted most, Donny had never been so wicked. No, let the crackling lightning and storm take me.
        Oh, Goddess, I don’t know what happened next, not exactly. I shook and trembled so violently, my tears flowed freely and I felt like I wanted to shrink into a fetal ball and then collapse into nothing.
        I really don’t deserve her. She must have gotten a panic of her own at the sight of my reaction. Yet instead of being hurt or thinking I was somehow rejecting her, she took my hands, moved up beside me and shushed me. Her hands shifted to my head, her lips pressed repeatedly against my skin, but with a fervor and possessiveness I’d never imagined.
        Her voice was like satin or silk, so comforting, soft and soothing, telling me over and over that it was all right, that she was there, that it was OK. I might have mumbled that this couldn’t be happening, that I didn’t deserve her, I don’t know. What I do clearly recall is her breath in my ear saying that she loved me, that she was mine. She said it again and again with words and than with her body. I remember her lips on mine, the feel of her body fully on top of me, and her arms around me, grounding me, easing my fears. Her hands stroked away the terror.
        Ahhh, her voice, her sweet love-filled voice continued to say that she was there, that this was real…that she loved me, and I clung to it and her. Clung to the sensation of her warm, soft, wet tongue gliding across my skin; to the sensation of desire and need that she kindled deep within me and then quenched. I touched and tasted her body, verifying its solidity, the overwhelming rightness of it. Goddess it felt so good, so natural. Like she was a part of me, like we’d always belonged together and just hadn’t fully realized it.
        I held her to me, arms encasing her, my face pressed into her hair, her neck, holding her so tightly, as if I could pull her into me, until she squeaked and I had to relent a bit.
        Even now it still vaguely seems like the last day or so couldn’t have happened, like it was some story from one of Mother’s romances, only with me and Willow in it. My mind spins with emotions and sensations I’d never really hoped to ever experience. The world seems so much brighter, clearer than ever before. How could I have missed the way the sun sparkles through the rain covered tree branches? Each drop is like a miniature world with its own multicolored halo, so vivid and vibrant. The breeze that wafts in through the window is warm, and though maybe unusually humid, still makes my skin tingle.
        When will she be back? I want to see her again, want to feel her once more, just to make sure I’m not making all this up. I can’t stand being away from her now. While my fears that this isn’t real are dwindling, the part of me that feels connected to her is so raw and…vacant, empty without her nearby. Goddess I just want her in my arms again!
        It’s like my body is surging with power, like I’m pent up in a cage that only she can open and let me loose. Waiting for her to return is an interminable Hell while my soul aches for her presence.
        Waking this morning was the most deliciously enjoyable start of any day, ever. She was lying on her back and I was snuggled up against her. My head lie where her arm joined her shoulder and I could feel her skin on my cheek, see the soft mounds of her little breasts, the rosey area of her nipples and the expanse of her stomach beyond. Our legs were entwined and moist with mutual sweat from long contact.
        I rode the rise and fall of her breathing and my heart seemed awash with admiration and love. A singularly sweet, almost painful, longing vibrated throughout me. My Willow. Her Tara.
        I felt her stir, a hand start to gently trace my arm, my shoulder, stroke my hair. I wanted to melt into her, probably did. She asked if I was awake and I replied that from now on every day with her would be the dream that I never wanted to wake from.
        She gave a little laugh, and probably smiled, though I was facing the wrong way to know for sure. I couldn’t miss something so divine, and so I lifted my head off of her, though that too seemed difficult, and sort of scootched on up so that our heads rested together on the pillows. She turned to face me, pressing herself against me once again. I felt the wetness between my legs, the shortness of breath, sudden lurch in my heart rate and wondered in the back of my mind if we’d ever be able to leave the bed.
        Our fingers touched, I could see her green eyes shining and sparkling so brightly, the smile that lit her face was so broad, so deep. She gave a little sigh, her small, delicate fingers gently traced the curve of my cheek, stroked my hair and then she kissed me. It was soft, deep and long with a different sort of passion than the ones that had showered me the night before.
        Oh, Goddess, I never thought it could feel so good to belong to someone so fully and completely. To lose yourself in their smile, their eyes, their touch. Now I do shudder with remembered joy. We made love for a third time in less than twelve hours and each time was staggering; a miraculous barrage of feelings that I can barely begin to process.
        She’s so…Willowy. Goddess I get wet and feel a deep stirring just thinking about what we did, about how good she tastes and feels. It’s mindblowingly amazing and it’s like I can’t get enough, all I want is to feel her skin, her muscles moving above and beneath me.
        Oh Mother, she’s so sweet and understanding, too. I know she had class in the morning, but she didn’t make any move to leave, I think she was as enchanted as I was with being so wholly together. She finally said that she hoped that she’d made up for all that she put me through the last few days. I couldn’t help smiling and taking her fingers in mine before saying that I’d never experienced anything so wonderful. That she had nothing to make up for.
        I didn’t know what else to say except to repeat that I loved her, that no one had ever looked at me like she does, wanted to be close, touch me, hold me. I hoped that I would never disappoint her or make her feel like she’d made the wrong choice.
        She put one finger over my lips then, gave me that sort of stern look she sometimes gets, though a slight smile softened her features and lessened the affect. She told me that I should never doubt that I was worthy of love, that I was special and unique and as wonderful as anyone ever could be. There’d never really been any choice to make, just her coming to realize how much I meant to her, consciously understanding just how deep her love for me really was. Oz had never made her feel like I do. She’d loved him before, but they’d been two very different people, she never felt as close to him as she did with me. We shared something that was powerful, deep and maybe even beyond love.
She said it felt like I was part of her, that we were connected on a basic level that was primal, electric, ferocious and even a little scary, but she was so thankful that we’d found each other. No more talk of being unworthy, or thinking I wasn’t beautiful, radiant and stunning. I took her breath away every time I smiled or touched her.
        I told her it was just all so new, I mean I’d known I liked women from an early age, but just never had the courage or confidence to do anything about it, and she was so perfect. She laughed here and said she was far from perfect, just ask Xander or Buffy, but I interrupted and said I loved her flaws as much as everything else. She got her mock outraged look and demanded to know what flaws these would be? I giggled and said she obviously lacked judgment since she’d fallen in love with me!
        She gave me a reproachful slap on the shoulder and said that was what she meant, no more snide cuts or digs. Besides, she’d even told Buffy that she had feelings for me.
        I have to admit that that sort of brought me up short. We were lying facing each other again, and though our bodies were still, our hands continued to caress and stroke one another. My hand stopped moving and I stuttered, ‘R-r-really?’ That was such a big step and one I thought she’d never take, at least not this soon and not with Oz in town, for I realized she had to have done it recently, probably the day before.
        She just nodded and said it hadn’t been her intention of coming out, as it were, but Buffy had been asking her about Oz, them spending all night together and she’d been trying to comprehend just what it was she was feeling, why things were making her stomach so acidy, her mind a swirl of uncertainty. She just couldn’t lie, didn’t want to keep her feelings secret any longer, though it might have been better if she had.
        I must have frozen then, maybe looked down momentarily all panicky. But she took my chin and said not because she was embarrassed or ashamed or anything like that. It was just that Buffy had kinda wigged out, acted a little odd and kept saying her name over and over in a strange way.
        Here her voice sunk down a bit and she softly admitted that is was a little too disturbingly close to what she’d feared would happen if she said anything.
        I started to say something, tell her that she shouldn’t jeopardize her relationship with her friends, with her best friend, just for me, but she cut me off and stated that even if Buffy did start acting differently or couldn’t handle it she wasn’t sorry she’d done it. She didn’t want me to have to keep secrets or act differently around her friends. Buffy and Riley, Xander and Anya, they could hold hands, touch one another or be close in public so there should be no reason we couldn’t too.
        Her hand stroked my hair, continued along the line of my jaw and she said that she loved me too much to let anything stand in the way of that. I was her girlfriend and the world, her friends, everyone, better get used to it.
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