Title: Neverland Author: EasierSaid Feedback: Yes, please. Spoilers: None. Setting: AU. There is no Hellmouth, there is no slayer and no magic of the wicca variety. Just our girls and the rest of the Buffy characters living and loving in that great city by the bay, San Francisco. Rating: R Disclaimer: Please don't sue me Mutant Enemy. Notes: Send up the Kitten bat signal, it’s time. (Lines/references to New Moon Rising and Entropy.)
Thoughts in italics
PART 72
The chair had been her grandmother’s. Tara had convinced Jill’s father to tie it down in the back of his beat up F-250 when she moved down to start her freshman year of college, the man grumbling that she was better off spending $25 and buying a new chair. Her mother had reupholstered it right before getting sick, the last big project the woman was able to complete before cancer started to sap her of her strength. The blonde loved it, even if it was lumpy and threadbare in places.
After her shower, and a half-hearted attempt to read, Tara half-carried and half-dragged the old chair to the opposite side of her bed, setting it up near the bank of windows in her bedroom. She grabbed a throw blanket from a knit storage bin by the foot of her bed and sat down, pulling her knees to her chest, her still slightly-damp hair sitting on her shoulders. She covered her legs with the blanket and watched out the window as dark clouds blended into each other and passed her by, the occasional patch of blue peeking through. She ached to paint, to clean, to do anything requiring frenetic energy so she could work off some of her nerves, but she willed herself to sit still, to be still, her best attempt at a meditation being the mindless task of watching headlights drive past her apartment in the quickly darkening day. If she just sat still, kept her mind clear, she wouldn’t go crazy waiting. She wouldn’t imagine and reimagine every possible scenario that Willow’s return home would bring. She’d keep calm, and when she saw Willow, she’d be ready for whatever would happen.
Her head snapped up when the light in her room changed, bright headlights shining in an arc along the walls. She stood up straight, the back of her legs bumping against the chair as the throw blanket fell forgotten around her feet. Willow was home. Tara raced to her bedroom door and then abruptly stopped, placing her hand on her stomach, again willing herself to be still. She took a deep breath, and then another, then made her way calmly to the stairs.
She took them as slowly as she could manage, her trembling hand touching the wall for support as she anxiously concentrated on just breathing. She made the turn in the stairway and felt her stomach flip. She had never been so nervous in her life. She took three steps down and then sat, slowly sinking onto her bottom, the wood beneath her cold. She placed her palms lightly on her knees and straightened her back, hearing the ancient garage door close below with a thud. She would be patient. She didn’t want to ambush the redhead as soon as she walked in the door; Willow should have time to take her coat off, maybe even get a drink of water if she needed. Tara took a deep, shaky breath and slowly exhaled, idly wondering if it was possible to pass out from nervous anticipation.
She held her breath as she heard the key in the lock, held her breath as she heard Willow enter and lock the door behind her. She guessed from the sounds below that the girl next removed her coat then kicked off her shoes. It was a habit that in retrospect Willow probably picked up from her, as she didn’t remember the redhead removing her shoes upon entering when she first moved in. Tara waited for the redhead to call for her, or even move to the kitchen but it was silent downstairs. The blonde finally stood and took a deep breath, unable to wait another moment. She walked down the final few steps and turned into the great room, and she felt her chin tremble as she saw the redhead’s back, the girl silently facing the secretary table, her head slightly bowed. Tara was shocked by the wave of emotion that hit her. She had never been more relieved to see anyone in her life. She took a moment to soak it all in; the last moment before everything changed. Willow was wearing the jeans she loved—well-worn and flattering—and the red long-sleeve that made her heart flutter. The blonde silently sighed as she realized once again how much she loved the girl standing across the room, how much she needed her in her life. It was powerful and overwhelming, and Tara momentarily felt faint as the emotion overtook her. She took a deep breath to center herself, swallowed hard and took a couple of silent steps forward, stopping near the kitchen counter.
"Hey,” Tara said softly, her heart skipping a beat as Willow turned to face her.
"Hey,” Willow replied nervously, her heart hammering in her chest as she made eye contact with the blonde. She had been steeling herself by the secretary desk and had been caught off guard by the blonde’s gentle voice. The redhead twisted her fingers before her as she took the girl in; the blonde was devastatingly beautiful, even with the worry lines etched between her eyebrows.
“A-Are you okay?" Tara asked, taking two small steps forward.
"Me?" Willow asked, truly surprised by the question.
“I know you were n-nervous about seeing your mom,” Tara said gently. “How'd it go?" She felt like her entire world was lodged in her throat, and she put every ounce of her energy into appearing calm.
"It–“ Willow shook her head sharply. She couldn’t get distracted; this was too important. She took four large steps toward the blonde. "Tara, about what I did on Friday night–"
"It's okay,” the blonde said, bowing her head and nodding a few times, the action stopping Willow in her tracks.
"No, it's not,” the redhead said gently, standing several feet from the blonde. She had stopped to be respectful, but it was taking every thing she had to not just grab Tara’s hands, to launch into a fervent plea for forgiveness.
“I p-put you in an awkward position,” the blonde said to the floor, her voice sounding practiced.
“No,” Willow said, shaking her head. She just wanted Tara to look at her.
“And I’m s-sorry that I ran away,” the blonde continued, her head still bowed. “I sh-should have stayed and listened. Leaving w-wasn’t fair.”
“No,” Willow repeated, slightly shaking her head. This conversation; it felt just like the conversation with her mom. With Buffy. It was going all wrong, and this, this couldn't go wrong. Willow stared at the blonde, willing her to look up, and when the girl finally met her eye, she spoke.
"I love you."
The words shattered the silence around them and Tara's heart constricted so fast that it stole her breath. She felt the blood drain from her face, felt her extremities go cold. She couldn’t have heard that right. Because it sounded like Willow had just said that–
"I am, in love with you." Willow said, pausing slightly before continuing, her voice feeble and halting. "Gay, and in love with you..." She took a small step forward before stopping, her hands twisting in front of her. "I came out to my mom yesterday. She didn’t, take it, well…” the redhead said, her brow quirking and smoothing. “She told me some pretty awful things, a-and I haven't heard from her since,” she finished softly. “And I told Buffy today. Also, didn't go well." Tara looked perplexed, so Willow continued talking. "Not, so much with the me-being-gay thing, but the, lying to her for three years, thing."
Three years, Tara thought stunned, feeling like a bolt of lightening had struck her where she stood. She held her breath, afraid to breathe, afraid to do anything that would change what was happening.
"She didn't know, Xander did… Wasn't too happy about that,” Willow continued, casting periodic nervous glances at the girl across from her.
"Th-Three y-years?" Tara asked softly. It was all she could do to force the words out. Xander?!
"That's how long I've been in love with you,” Willow said sincerely as she met the blonde's eye before looking away. "Five, probably, if I was really honest with myself. Maybe always, I don't know..." She shook her head. She looked up, her clasped hands moving in front of her. “I wanted to kiss you Friday, so much, but I just had this, plan, this big stupid plan and it wasn't in the plan so I sort of freaked because I thought I had to tell my mom first and tell Buffy first, like they deserved to know before I could get involved with anyone, that I had to tell them before I could get involved with you because you deserved to be with someone who was out, not someone all closeted and afraid and…” The words petered out and Willow looked at the blonde vulnerably, her eyes wide and honest.
Tara opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, everything crashing around her and building up at the same time. She felt simultaneously numb and electric. This couldn’t really be happening.
"I made these, doodled these, last week when we went to see Anya..." Willow said as she took the little squares of paper from her back pocket and dumped them on the kitchen counter to her left. Tara looked at them, rooted in her spot. She could see hearts. Her name. Her head swam. "I forgot to take them out of my pocket when we got home. And I didn't have a meeting at the Four Seasons two weeks ago. I went to the gallery to see your paintings, and I was worried you would think it was weird, like I was some sort of stalker person so I lied. I don’t like Morgan, at all. And I think I moved to San Francisco to be near you," Willow said, Tara looking at her disbelievingly. “Because I love you. So much. And Frida–“
Willow never had a chance to finish, Tara closing the distance in a frantic burst of movement. She took the redhead’s face in her hands; she kissed her forehead, then her cheek and then her lips with every ounce of love she’d suppressed for three, long years. Tara pulled back and rested her forehead against Willow’s, but before she could speak, the redhead leaned in and captured her lips in a slow, sure kiss. Tara's kiss had been one of comfort, reassurance that she felt the same way, but Willow's was far different. It was confident and absolute. There was no flinch, no tentativeness, and it turned Tara's knees to jelly because there was no questioning the intent—Willow was kissing her quite purposefully.
They pulled apart and Tara quickly spoke. “I love you.” She immediately said it again, unsure whether she’d said it the first time or merely dreamed it. “I love you.”
Willow broke out in a beaming smile and Tara smiled back. Tears started to fall from the blonde’s eyes and Willow frowned, reaching up her hand to brush the tears away. “Hey… You’re crying…”
Tara exhaled, a half smile emerging on her face, her brow quirking. “You are, too.”
“Oh,” Willow said self-consciously as she reached up and felt the tears on her cheeks. She closed her eyes and sighed when she felt Tara reach up with her thumbs and wipe the tears away. She opened her eyes and looked into Tara’s, her green eyes questioning. “Are you okay?”
The blonde nodded. “Happy tears,” Tara said reassuringly as she laughed lightly and took a deep breath; she wiped her eyes before returning her hands to the redhead’s body.
“Tara,” Willow said, leaning her forehead against the blonde’s and nuzzling against her face, her arms wrapping comfortingly around the blonde’s waist.
Tara felt like she couldn't speak; she was in awe. Willow was holding her, lightly kissing her face. How could this be real?
"I'm so sorry," the redhead said in a soft voice, barely loud enough to reach Tara's ears as she held the women in her arms. "I've been in love with you forever, I just, I didn't know how to get to a place where I could say it."
And Tara understood. It wasn't about her, not really; it was about Willow coming out. How hard this must have been for her. To want something that she couldn't have because fear was preventing her from doing so. Tara took a shaky breath. All that Willow had been through since Friday night. The last three years. The blonde pulled back and took in the green eyes before her. "The tulips,” she said, the emotion in her voice thick. The redhead's brow crinkled in confusion, and Tara took in another unsteady breath. "I've known that I loved you with everything I had since the tulips." Willow was floored. The tulip garden at Golden Gate Park. Three years ago. She frowned as her chin quivered, tears flooding her eyes and making the sight of the girl she loved blurry. She simply nodded, overcome with emotion. Tara knew. She knew exactly how hard the last three years had been because she had gone though it, too. How stupid she had been, trying to get the blonde to fall in love with her these last two weeks. “Tara,” she said, the words barely escaping through the sadness choking her voice. Tara nodded back, her own voice lost and they kissed, tears streaming down their faces, wetting their cheeks, dropping to their clothes.
They finally broke the kiss and curled into their shared embrace, hands stroking hair, their bodies slowly starting to sway together. Willow rested her head on the blonde’s shoulder and sighed. Tara kissed her temple and she sighed again, reveling in the feeling of just being held. Moments passed before Willow pulled herself upright and met the blonde’s eye.
“I really love you in that shirt,” the redhead finally said, her fingers tracing the side seam of the blonde’s white peasant top and Tara laughed, some of the tension and sadness lifted.
The blonde ran her fingers along one of Willow’s belt loops and met her eye. “Those are my favorite jeans.”
Willow’s eyebrows rose and Tara arched her own brow in response. The redhead blushed, a bright, embarrassed smile pulling at her lips, her tongue pushed forward and pressed against her teeth and the blonde almost melted; the girl before her was so endearing. Tara leaned forward again, kissing the redhead. It was slow, and perfect, each woman concentrating on the feel of the other’s lips, the smell of them together. After a long moment Tara laughed into their kiss, first a chuckle that grew and Willow couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s delight.
“What?” She asked, pulling back to get a better look at the happy blonde. The sight made her heart race.
Tara just shook her head, a beaming smile on her face, and pushed the redhead’s hair behind her ears. “I thought you were in love with Xander.” She started to lean in for another kiss but Willow lurched back violently; the blonde’s brows shot to her hairline at the movement.
“You what?!” The redhead sputtered. “Why, why, why would you think that?”
And Tara couldn’t help but laugh, deep and throaty at the look of abject horror on the redhead’s face. “Buffy–“
“Buffy thought I was in love with Xander?!” Willow repeated, her face twisted.
Tara bit her lip to try and suppress the smile on her face and she started to soothe her hands over Willow’s face to try and get rid of the girl’s worry lines. She sighed happily when Willow reached up and gently gripped her wrists. “A long time ago, after you broke up with Oz; Buffy thought that you were in love with Xander–“
“But I wasn’t!” Willow exclaimed. “I was totally gay.”
Tara again laughed, the joy she felt threatening to blow her into a million pieces. She nodded, allowing the confused girl that. “B-But you guys are so close–“
“Because he was helping me, with the being gay.” Both girls brows furrowed. “That doesn’t sound right when I say it out loud…”
“Buffy thought that maybe the closeness were feelings,” Tara explained, her smile dying down. “And over the years, it just, it took on a life of it’s own.”
“All this time, you thought…?” Willow asked, vulnerably.
Tara nodded. “B-But I figured it out, sort of, this week.”
“This week?” Willow asked rhetorically, her voice small and appalled. A million affectionate mentions of Xander flew through her mind. “Morgan’s party,” the redhead said, her head snapping up, and Tara looked away. Willow caught the blonde’s eye. “I was on the phone with him the whole night. You thought–“ She didn’t know what to say. Her face contorted with sadness. “Tara…”
“T-Thhat was confusing,” the blonde admitted with a slight head bob. And heart-wrenching, devastating… “It felt like you were there with me, but then you were on the phone with him and–“
“I was, there to be with you,” Willow hastily explained. “But then Morgan showed up,” she said, her brow quirking. “A-And it was her house, and she was perfect…”
Tara bowed her head. “The roof,” she said quietly. “You must have thought…” The redhead’s sobs from that night came back to her.
“But, trellis!” Willow said, attempting to pull the blonde from thinking badly about herself. The redhead sighed. “That night was hard,” she said. “A-And I was a jerk. But you didn’t owe me anything, you didn’t even know. Just, in the moment…”
“I heard you on the phone,” Tara quietly admitted, and Willow’s brow quirked. “Outside. When you were talking to Xander.”
“You did?” Willow asked. “But you said…”
Tara exhaled quickly. “I lied, because I thought– I didn’t want you to f-feel embarrassed. You were so upset…”
“What did you hear?” The redhead asked, her voice stunned.
Tara took a deep breath, her eyes trained on Willow’s. “That you were in love, and that you were upset with Xander for dismissing your feelings.”
The words she spoke that night came back to Willow. ’This isn't some high school crush Xander... This is, love, real, true love and and I can't just pretend that I don't feel it.’ “And you thought I was talking about him…” Willow said, her shoulders sagging, crushed. “Oh god…“
“I-It’s okay,” Tara said, her head bowed and bobbing.
“No, it’s not…” Willow said emphatically as she guided the blonde’s chin up and searched the blonde’s face. “Tara… I am so sorry.”
“Willow,” Tara said, an embarrassed smile gracing her lips.
“No. I–“ The redhead swallowed hard, searching her mind for the right words. “I felt like I was going crazy when I thought you liked Morgan, and that was just for two weeks.” She felt dazed as she met Tara’s eye. “I can’t even imagine what that would feel like for years…”
“It’s okay,” the blonde repeated, her voice a little stronger. “It um, sort of, goes with the territory of being in love with you.” She saw Willow’s brow quirk; Tara’s face turned gentle. “You were with Oz, three years ago…”
Willow hung her head and exhaled, the weight of what her straight identification must of done to Tara.
“Willow…” Tara guided the redhead’s head up. She met her eye and then leaned forward, kissing her softly. “It doesn’t matter now.” She leaned forward and kissed her again. “It doesn’t matter.”
Willow sighed and rested her forehead against the blonde’s. “I have so much to make up for.” She felt the blonde’s arms wrap around her.
“No, you don’t,” Tara said, her hands running up and down Willow’s shoulder blades.
“I do,” the redhead said, nodding her head. “And I’m going to. Starting now.”
“Now?” Tara asked amused, her half smile emerging. “Right now?”
“This very second,” Willow said softly, leaning forward for a kiss. They kissed, and something sparked between them. They both felt it, passion starting to grow. The blonde gently pulled away before things got too heated, and again rested her forehead against the redhead’s.
"Say it again," Tara said softly.
"I'm gay," Willow replied.
A full-blown smile lit up the blonde's face as she pulled back and met the girl’s eye. "The other one,” she said shyly.
"Oh," Willow said, slightly embarrassed. A soft smile pulled at her lips. "I love you."
Tara nodded then rested her forehead against Willow’s again with a happy sigh, a huge smile on her face. She felt Willow’s hands run the length of her back comfortingly and she shivered, which made the redhead wrap her arms around the blonde tightly. They tucked back into each other and stood for a long while, just being, the euphoria of their shared confessions starting to recede. Tara was the first to speak, her voice serious as she pulled back and looked Willow in the eye, her hands comfortingly smoothing the soft skin on her face. “Do you want to talk about it?” She asked, searching the girl’s green eyes. “What happened with your mom? And Buffy?” She tried to keep her voice neutral though she was dying to know more about each interaction.
Willow’s brow furrowed and she shook her head. “No,” she said, dipping her head momentarily. She looked up and smiled, her eyes showing sadness. “Cause right now I’m really happy, and that, that isn’t happy.”
“Okay,” Tara said, brushing the redhead’s hair behind her ears. “But when you do…” she said, looking the redhead in the eye.
“Okay,” Willow said nodding. She rested her forehead against the blonde’s again.
Tara rubbed tiny circles on the redhead’s lower back. She trusted Willow. When the girl was up for talking about her experience, she would, and she would do her best to be there for her however the girl needed.
Willow pulled back and looked at the blonde. They stared for a long time, neither one believing their good fortune. Tara’s smile grew, enjoying the adoring look the redhead gave her. It was honest and unfettered, and it made the blonde feel giddy. “So what now,” she asked, her voice playful and low.
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” Willow asked and Tara giggled.
She nodded happily. “Yes.”
“Okay, good,” the redhead said, brightly smiling. “I thought we could go out to dinner. Maybe back to the Beach Chalet?”
“Oh,” Tara’s brow furrowed.
“Or someplace else,” Willow quickly said.
“N-No, that would be nice,” the blonde said. “I just.” She sighed. “You m-mean tonight,” she said, her voice surprised.
“Yeah…” Willow said, her brow knitting in confusion. She felt the mood shift. “I mean. We should, right? Cause, this is new and we should probably go on a date now… Right?”
“R-Right,” Tara said, nodding her head. She dipped her head and took a small step back, dropping her hands from around the redhead’s shoulders. They stood next to each other awkwardly. “T-That makes sense.”
Willow nodded, though she didn’t know why she was nodding; this felt wrong. Them standing apart, her doing anything other than holding the blonde in her arms felt spectacularly wrong.
“You know, if you think about it," Tara said, her voice surprising them both. "W-We've kind of been dating for a while." A shocked smile exploded on Willow's face as Tara voiced the thought she thought had been a secret. "D-Dinners, a concert–"
"Oh, coffee!" The redhead blurted happily, cluing in on where Tara was going with her line of logic. Her heart started to beat harder, faster.
"Yeah yeah, coffee," the blonde said nodding fiercely, her eyes never leaving Willow’s. "Coffee's good."
"Very good."
"The best."
"So..."
"So..." The two stood opposite each other in awkward silence. "This is ridiculous..." Tara finally said, stepping forward urgently.
"Oh thank god," Willow replied, surging forward. The two grabbed ahold of each other and embraced, their lips clashing, moving quickly over each other’s. "How many dates?" Willow breathlessly managed as Tara moved her lips to the redhead’s jawline.
"What?" Tara asked distractedly, as she moved her lips to the redhead’s neck.
"How many dates have we been on?" Willow said, her eyes closing and breath quickening at the feel of Tara’s lips her neck.
"I don't kno–" Willow's hand reached up and fondled Tara's left breast, and the blonde moaned in appreciation. "Enough for that to be okay?" The redhead asked, her hand squeezing again.
"Yes," the blonde groaned as she brought her lips back to Willow’s face.
"Good,” Willow said before her lips were once again claimed. She snaked her other hand around the blonde and placed it on her lower back, pulling her in tight, and the blonde responded by kissing the redhead hard before starting to push the girl backward. They stumbled and bumbled together until they made their way to the couch. Tara broke their kiss and Willow promptly sat down, the blonde quickly following her, immediately kissing her again.
They furiously exchanged kisses, hands in hair, caressing curves, devouring each other. The intensity of it all left Willow dizzy; she reached behind her and quickly laid down on the couch, Tara following and climbing on top of her. The blonde immediately pushed her thigh between Willow’s legs and the girl groaned. “Oh god,” she gasped, the blonde’s lips returning to her neck. Willow pushed her own thigh up and moaned when she felt Tara push down on her, her own hips rolling up for another brush against Tara’s leg. The explosion of sensation was intoxicating, and Willow knew that in that moment she had never been wetter in her life.
Tara kissed over the soft skin of Willow’s neck, stopping when she felt the girl’s racing pulse point thrumming against her lips. She felt the redhead’s hips push up against her again and she hummed happily, her own hips following, the two settling into a rhythm that quickly eclipsed every other pleasurable experience she’d ever had. Tara dragged her lips back up to Willow’s ear, flicking the girl’s earlobe with her tongue. She felt Willow’s hands wrap around her, her thin fingers pushing the blonde’s shirt up, the redhead’s hands quickly finding skin. “Willow,” Tara groaned, pushing harder with her thigh, swallowing hard when she felt the redhead return the movement. She had never wanted anything more, to feel Willow pressing up against her, pressing into her.
The girls rocked together, soft sounds escaping their lips as they ground together, Willow’s hands pushing Tara’s shirt higher and higher. Willow was losing control, she knew it, and knew also that if things didn’t slow down she’d regret it. "Tara, wait, stop," the redhead gasped, wriggling as she stilled the blonde's hips; she pulled back as best she could, putting space between them.
Tara blushed fiercely as Willow’s words and actions registered. "I'm s-sorry," she said as she started to sit up, realizing with embarrassment just how insistent her thigh had been. "I'm going t-too f-fast."
"What? No," Willow said, her brow deeply furrowed, her hands frantically grabbing the fast retreating girl's forearms so she couldn't stand up. Tara stopped, sitting on her haunches over the redhead, her head bowed behind a curtain of hair, and Willow pulled herself into an awkward half prone position. "You're not doing anything wrong," Willow quickly assured, one hand gripping the blonde’s arm, another gently smoothing over the blonde’s side. When she was sure that the blonde wouldn't bolt, she dropped her hands and awkwardly pushed herself into a more comfortable seated position. "Tara," she said, urging the girl to look at her. Once she did, the redhead blushed. "I was just." She sighed, her blush deepening and she rolled her eyes. "It was just feeling a little, too, good." Her brow quirked and she willed the blonde to understand.
"Oh," Tara said, understanding clearly. Her own blush deepened. She had been close, too.
"I just." Willow stopped, collecting her thoughts. "I don't want our first time to be a quickie. I want it to be, a longie." The redhead looked at the blonde and smiled sweetly. "I want all of you."
Tara nodded, a lump in her throat, a shiver running through her body. With those simple words, Willow staked her claim: She was the anti-Jill. She was gay. She loved her. And she wanted every inch of her without clothes.
"Ok?" The redhead asked, bringing her hands up and gently caressing the blonde’s waistline, her fingertips sneaking up under the girl’s shirt and setting the blonde on fire.
"Oh yes," Tara replied, relieved. She leaned forward and they kissed, slowly, patiently. After a few minutes of languid kisses, Tara nervously murmured, "Do you, do you want to go upstairs?"
Willow nodded into the kiss. “Yes."
Tara relaxed at Willow’s confident reply, deepening the kiss and the redhead responded in kind. They kissed with minimal contact, passionate but not desperate, each enjoying the pace and pleasure.
"Okay," the blonde finally said, slightly pulling back. "We're going to have to stop kissing to walk up the stairs."
"I can’t,” the redhead said, reaching up and pulling the blonde back to her embrace.
Tara smiled into the kiss before pulling back. “Walk up the stairs?"
"Stop kissing you,” Willow murmured. "I don't want to ever stop kissing you." She reached up and kissed the blonde again.
Tara nodded into the kiss, and after a moment pulled away. "Come on," she whispered as she pulled back, and Willow followed.
Last edited by EasierSaid on Mon Jan 20, 2014 2:55 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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