Hi Kittens,

I'm Lonely Tara (aka 9kodama on FanFiction.net) and I'm posting chapters on a new W/T Fic here as well as on FF.Net I hope you'll read and enjoy (and review!) Please keep an eye out for my other W/T Fic, The Wish of Three Hearts

• Title - Wave
• Author name – LonelyTara
• Email Address - 9kodama@gmail.com
• Rating - PG-13, eventually R
• Disclaimer - This is a romantic and angsty AU piece with plenty of adventure (eventually)
• Feedback-Please, please!
• Summary- Wave is a season 2 AU. On Halloween, Willow meets a strange and beautiful blond girl, and becomes determined to find her. When they connect, Willow's life will be changed forever...
• Notes-Thanks to everyone who will read.

Chapter One: Treading Water

The first thing she noticed was the wooden porch. The planks were uneven, digging into her bottom, her back. Willow raised a hand and a length of white sheet moved across her line of sight. It’d been one of the strangest nights of her life—which was saying a lot for a girl from Sunnydale. Halloween. It was supposed to be a safe day, a safe night, when demons laid low to pay their respects to old gods. Instead, she and her best friends, Xander and Buffy, had found themselves transformed into the literal versions of the costumes they wore.

Willow gave a little snort of laughter, felt her own warm breath dampening her ghostly sheet. Xander the soldier was kind of scary, so serious and so, well, gunny, but Buffy…Willow giggled again, hands rising from beneath the sheet to press the cotton of her costume against her mouth. Buffy as a tentative, shrinking violet, fainting at the sight of danger, now that was hilarious and Willow wasn’t going to let her forget about it any time soon. She might as well have dressed as me for Halloween. The thought came fast, quick, stinging like a paper cut, in Cordelia’s valley drawl.

“Maybe I won’t tease her after all. It’s more fun in theory than application. I ought to know,” Willow sighed. She stood up on the porch, still a little wobbly from her hours spent in as a real, walk-through-walls ghost.

Willow took a step and tripped a bit on her costume. The cloth tugged down, pulling the headpiece over her eyes and leaving her in darkness. Willow pushed it back up so she could see, her eyes watering. She looked up at the sky, eyes still tearing and unfocused, and imagined she was under the ocean looking up at the sky.

“It’s a beautiful night,” she whispered. “But a little warm for layers.”

Willow took a deep breath and pulled her sheet off, revealing, well, her revealing clothing underneath. With her head held high, Willow walked down the steps, down the sidewalk, and crossed into the street to find her friends. There was a car or a truck coming down the road toward her, she could see the headlights. They’ll just have to wait, Willow thought to herself, feeling thrillingly rebellious as she strolled across the street. Cute girl walking.

As she stepped up onto the far sidewalk a horn blared. Willow spun around and saw a zebra-striped van swerve to avoid…to avoid an angel, surfing down the street. Willow’s mouth dropped open. It was a girl, slim but curvy, very renaissance, with honey blonde hair that hung half way down her back, billowing in the night air. She was dressed all in blues—dark jeans, a tee-shirt that looked like a water color painting in a thousand shades of blue, even blue combat boots. Not an angel, Willow thought, feeling strangely giddy. A mermaid, I’m still under water, and she’s riding the waves.

The young woman came closer, swaying from side to side so deeply that Willow was sure she would fall onto the road, but she didn’t. The girl passed under a streetlight that set her golden hair blazing like a halo, and Willow could see that she was riding a long, wide skateboard. She had a guitar case strapped to her back.

Willow couldn’t move. She was frozen there, on the edge of the sidewalk, watching this vision glide toward her. Willow’s palms started to sweat and her heart was pounding. She found herself wishing that the girl would look up. As if answering Willow’s wish, the girl slowed as she drew closer. When she rolled past Willow their gazes locked. Willow felt like she was being swallowed, devoured by eyes the color of the sky as it passed from twilight into night. A crooked grin spread across the girl’s face and Willow’s heart skipped a beat. Willow wanted to stop her, to call out to her and ask her name, but she couldn’t speak, couldn’t take her eyes off of the young woman.

The girl rolled past and Willow kept watching. She kicked off with one long leg and then, to Willow’s amazement, she spun on her board, rolling down the street backwards. Still grinning that beautiful, crooked smile, the girl held up a hand in a silent farewell as she drifted into the night. Finally unfrozen, Willow held her hand up and waved.

“Wow,” Willow said softly. “Who is that girl?”

* * *

Willow wandered towards Buffy’s house, sure to stay in well-lit areas filled with people. Better safe than sorry, since Halloween had already proven itself to be far more dangerous than Watcher records would admit. She felt like the people around her were moving in slow motion, arms and legs trailing after-images of shadow and light. Every child’s laughter sent her into a round of giggles that left her stomach aching and her cheeks tender. She was skipping by the time she turned onto Revello Drive, one thought running through her head over and over again. What a night, what a crazy, scary, beautiful night.

As she came around the corner a pair of boys dressed as cowboys, kids that couldn’t be more than seven or eight, pointed in her direction and laughed. Willow thought of the girl, smiling, letting her board carry her backward into the dark. She imagined trying to tell Xander and Buffy about the stir, the spark she’d felt when their eyes met. Would her friends shriek with laughter, like the boys on the corner? Willow stopped in her tracks.

“Okay,” she murmured to herself. “I could say to play it cool, but cool is not the natural state of affairs for me. I don’t know if it is the normal state of affairs for any Rosenberg. Can lack of cool be genetic?”

Willow began to pace back and forth. “I just can’t think about her, that’s all. I mean sure,” she continued, “she was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. And she smiled at me, and did that cool turny thing on her skateboard. She just looked so free.”

She stopped again and threw her hands up in the air. “That’s it. I’m stifled, I play it safe--I’m a player. Wait, no,” she laughed, “Not a player. I play it safe when I want to take risks. I want to be like her,” Willow said, looking up at the sky. “That’s all. I want to be free.” She realized the boys were still watching her, their mouths hanging open. “And, I’m babbling in front of strangers.”

Willow ran the rest of the way to Buffy’s house. As she came into sight of Buffy’s driveway, Willow slowed her pace, consciously suppressing the bounce that kept threatening to surface with each step. She tried to relax her arms, they seemed to want to swing wildly of their own accord so she held them down by her sides, wishing her mini-skirt had pockets.

As soon as she took one step onto the driveway Buffy shouted, “Willow!” And she and Xander came running out of the darkness toward her.

“Are you okay?” Xander asked as the two of them enveloped Willow in a hug.

“Well, right now I can’t breathe,” Willow said, her face pressed tight against Xander’s chest.

“Why?” Buffy asked, laughing as Willow squirmed. “That’s not going to fix it, you know.”

“Giant boy and slayer strength,” Willow squeaked. “Reduce hugging force by twenty-five and fifty percent respectively.”

“Oh,” Xander said, taking a step back.

“Ew, sorry Will.” Buffy relaxed her grip. “Anything bruised or broken?”

“I’m okay,” Willow laughed. “It’s nice to know I was missed.

“Of course we missed you,” Buffy said, looping her arm around one of Willow’s. Xander came around to loop her arm on the other side. “What happened?”

As they walked toward the house Willow fought the urge to giggle. She felt like Dorothy, and she was trying to decide if Buffy and Xander would make better Scarecrows, Tinmen, or Lions. She shook her head.

“When the spell broke it zapped me back into my body where we were trick-or-treating, so I had to walk all the way over here.”

“Okay,” Xander said slowly, “But what happened on the way here?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve got a serious case of Willow-grin.” Buffy replied. “Something must’ve happened.”

Willow felt a tiny flare of panic. She was grinning; she could feel a little burn in her cheeks. No skipping, no bouncing, arms down, check, but the grin, that girl—

“Oh, it’s okay Tinman and Scarecrow,” Willow babbled, disengaging her arms to turn and face Buffy and Xander. “I’m just excited to be on our way to see the Wizard.”

Xander and Buffy just stared.

“Oh come on guys,” she continued. “With the loopy arms and the walking down the walkway, which is gray and not gold, but still? Wizard of Oz joke?”

“Willow,” Buffy said seriously. “Did you take candy from a stranger? I mean, I know it’s Halloween, but I don’t mean a ‘hi I have a nice house with kids and a dog’ Sugar Baby candy I mean ‘creepy old man in a trench coat who mixes drugs into homemade candy and hands it out in an alley’ candy. Because druggy candy is bad, it does bad things to you.”

“I think what Buff’s trying to say is that you’re acting a little foggy, Will.” Xander said softly.

“Yeah, that,” Buffy echoed.

“I, uh,” Willow began. I think I’m kinda gay, she thought. “I think I’m just a bit woozy from my time as Casper’s slightly slutty big sister.” Her joke didn’t even register with her worried friends. “Well,” she said, taking a new tactic. “Do either of you feel strange? Any troubling thoughts or woozies from your dip into crazy costume-come-to-life land?”

Willow felt kind of guilty as Xander started to stammer and a blush crept up Buffy’s neck.

“I was strategy guy,” Xander murmured. “Everything looked like it was Apocalypse Now.” He laughed. “Kind of funny since we’re always worried about the apocalypse.”

“And gunny,” Buffy said. “Don’t forget the gun.”

“Well what do you remember?” Xander asked her.

“Things were scary,” Buffy began, and then she paused. “But it’s fuzzy. I must still be woozy.”

“Yeah, we’re woozy,” Xander said, nodding to Willow.

“Hot chocolate?” Buffy said quickly.

“Yes, hot chocolate to recuperate us from the crazy night.” Xander agreed breathlessly.

Willow giggled. “One cup, but then I better head home.”

“Well come on then, Dorothy,” Buffy quipped. The three of them locked arms again and skipped into the house.

* * *

Two hours of cocoa later Mrs. Summers dropped Willow off at home. The porch light was on, refracting on the cut glass front door that stuck out like a sore thumb in their neighborhood, but the house was dark.

“Thanks for waiting up,” Willow murmured.

She stumbled over the doorstep and caught herself on the wall; stopping nose to nose with the long, prickly stalks her mother had stuffed in a vase and called décor. She felt a strange, quivery guilt at the realization that she wished she broken the vase, scattered those silly things all over the floor. Then she imagined the look she would get from her mother, the lecture, her father’s—of course—unspoken disappointment.

“Look at me,” she whispered as she crept up the stairs to her room. “The little player talks about freedom and it goes right to her head. I’m dizzy with the free.”

Willow flipped on her bedroom light and groaned. So much for being free—her mother had cleaned her room, again, even though Willow cleaned it twice a week herself. She knew that Buffy and Xander thought it was funny that she was so tidy, but that was because they’d never had to deal with hurricane Sheila dropping a category-five cleaning storm on their rooms. In fact, the sight of Buffy and Xander’s rooms would’ve probably been enough to give her mother a cleaning nervous breakdown.

She walked around the room, putting things back the way she liked them—she took the book she was reading off the shelf and put it back on her dresser for handy reading-in-bed-under-the-covers-with-a-flashlight distance, and took the food for her tropical fish out of her desk drawer and put it back by the tank. Lastly she pulled her SHEEP sticker out of the trash and pinned it back on her corkboard.

“Longest and lamest battle of wills in history,” Willow sighed. “Well Mom, you’re nothing if not predictable.”

Willow turned away from her bed, the wicker headboard she’d dusted the day before was now so spotless and shiny that she wondered if it would glow in the dark. She was left standing in front of her bedroom mirror. Willow stared at herself for a moment and then shot a furtive glance around the room as if she was worried someone might be watching. But there was no one there, of course. Willow took a step closer to the mirror. She looked at herself, tilted her head to admire the curve of her neck framed by her upswept hair. Her skin, normally pale, was flushed, and her eyes sparkled.

She held her arms out and did a slow spin, admiring her trim figure. With the awkward bagginess of her mother’s handpicked wardrobe stripped away, there was a curviness to her, a womanliness, was that a word? That Willow had never noticed about herself before. Willow stopped her spin and placed her ands on her bare midriff, shivering a bit at the warmth of her own hands. If nothing else, her stomach was nice and flat; she could feel the tickle of ribs.

“I’m pretty,” Willow whispered, moving to stare at herself full-on in the mirror. She smiled broadly at the thought. Did she think I was pretty?

Willow imagined the skateboarding girl standing behind her. She could see those riveting dark blue eyes so clearly. The girl took a step closer, and then another, till she was standing right behind Willow, staring over her shoulder into the mirror. Suddenly Willow felt warm, soft hands brushing her back, sliding along her slides, to touch her ribs with feather-light strokes, finally wrapping around her waist.

The girl’s fingertips would be the tiniest bit rough, Willow imagined, from playing the guitar. A slight, delicious friction on the skin. The girl moved closer, wrapping her arms more tightly around Willow’s waist, until they were pressed together, with the girl laying her head on Willow’s shoulder. She smiled her brilliant smile and mouthed, “You’re beautiful—”

“Willow, what are you doing?”

Willow gave a little half scream-half squeak. Her mother was standing in the doorway, watching Willow stand in front of the mirror, arms wrapped around her own stomach.

“And what in the world are you wearing?”

“It’s Halloween, remember, Mom?”

“Well that’s no excuse for getting in so late,” Sheila replied.

“Sorry Mom,” Willow muttered, “Mrs. Summers gave us hot chocolate after we finished taking the elementary school kids trick-or-treating. I lost track of time.” Because I was distracted by my fascination with a girl I don’t even know. She finished silently.

“Well, I hope you’ll be more responsible while your father and I are gone at the conference. Do I need to get Mrs. Crowley to check in on you?”

“No Mom, I can take care of myself,” Willow insisted. “Besides, Mrs. Summers said she would check in, remember?”

“Of course.” Willow’s mother pulled her robe a bit more tightly around herself. “Is her daughter Bunny the one who gave you that…costume?”

Mom not amused, diversionary tactics required. “Uh…yeah, this was Buffy’s costume last year,” Willow lied. She’d seen Buffy wear the outfit to the Bronze a half dozen times. “She wanted to go as her favorite singer.” Willow wracked her brain, trying to think of one of her mother’s more distasteful music choices. “Paula Abdul!” Willow said in a burst. “It’s a Paul Abdul costume.”

“Oh, well, she’s a good performer,” she replied, nodding and relaxing her grip on her robe. “I think I even remember the video where she wore an outfit like that.”

“Cool?” Willow replied.

“Well, there’s money on the dining room table for you to buy food while we’re gone. I didn’t have time to go shopping.”

“Okay,” Willow nodded.

“You should get to bed, it’s late.” Sheila turned to walk out the door. “And don’t spend all your food money on chocolate and coffee.”

“I won’t, Mom.” Willow said, rolling her eyes. “Good night.”

As soon as she heard the door to her parents’ bedroom close, Willow shimmied out of her costume and threw on an oversized t-shirt. She fed her fish, watching the flakes tumble around, pushed and pulled by random currents.

Willow understood, because every moment since she’d seen the skateboarding girl she’d felt swept into the same type of motion. It was like a line connected from below her navel to some moving point out there in the world. The fish food bottle tumbled to the floor. Her hands were shaking. There was a part of her burning to sneak out, to go out into the night and find her. Instead Willow picked up the bottle, set it next to the fish tank, flipped off her bedroom light, and climbed into bed.

After a few minutes trying and failing to fall sleep, Willow curled on her side, staring out her window, pretending the glow of streetlights outside her windows were stars. She slowed her breathing, trying to quiet the trembling in her hands, her pounding heart. Just as she began to drift away, she heard the sound of the deep hum of skateboard wheels on pavement and flailed uncontrollably, waking with a gasp.

“Great,” she grumbled. “Hypnic jerking. That’s always a good sign.” She paused. “Ugh. I shouldn’t know that. I’m such a nerd.”

She rolled onto her right side, away from the window. After some time counting breaths Willow slipped into slumber again, and dreamed. She was walking across the street in the lights of the oncoming van. The skateboard rolled past, and there was the blonde girl, but she wasn’t alone. She was hugging a girl with short sandy hair, laying her head on the girl’s shoulder. Willow realized who the new girl was, Grace Henlon, her eighth grade Physical Science lab partner. Grace was the first girl she’d ever dreamed about kissing. The two of them waved to Willow as they rolled into the darkness.

When they moved past, Willow could see that Buffy and Xander were standing on the other side of the road, pointing at her. She called out to them, but they just kept pointing.

“Stop it,” Willow sighed, and realized she was lying on her back in bed, sprawled out with her sheets tangled around her legs. “Crap. This is going to be a long night.”

I just have to ignore it. She thought to herself, carefully untangling her sheets and pulling them up to her chin. I like Xander. Nice, sweet, utterly unavailable, safe Xander. Willow felt tears trickle from the corners of her eyes. Even as she thought the words to herself she felt that tug, wanted to go and find her blue girl. She’d liked Grace, she really had, her humor and her mind, the spray of freckles across her cheeks. But comparing Grace to her mystery girl was like comparing a candle’s glow to the light of a bonfire. Willow fell into a dreamless sleep with one thought echoing in her mind. How can anyone understand this when I don’t understand it myself?

* * *

The next few days were torture for Willow. Every time she caught a glimpse of golden-blonde hair her heart gave a painful little leap, but it was never her blue-eyed girl. Two days after her nighttime encounter she was actually late for school because she missed the bus, she was too busy following a blonde girl through her neighborhood. By the time she realized she was freaking out the poor homeschooled kid that lived down the block it was too late. She had to walk all the way to Sunnydale High. Principal Snyder was there waiting for her, of course, cementing her even more thoroughly into his troublemakers club.

After thirty minutes of lecture on antisocial behavior and lack of proper respect for authority, he’d finally let her go. She got to class just in time to miss a quiz that she could only pray she’d be allowed to make up.

“Will, what happened to you?” Buffy asked, stopping her in the hall the moment class let out. “You’re never late. And you’re all flushed, and flustery.”

“I missed the bus.”

“You had to walk?” Willow nodded and Buffy grimaced. “Ouch. It’s really hot out today.”

“Yeah,” Willow grumbled as they walked toward their second period room. “And Snyder was waiting for me.”

“Double ouch. Detention?”

“A lecture.”

“Ooh. Truly painful.”

Willow just nodded, but then her head snapped around and she strained on her tiptoes, looking intently down the hallway. Buffy turned to follow her friend’s gaze, but there was nothing there, just a bunch of other kids heading to class.

“Willow?” Buffy asked. Willow didn’t answer, she was still staring off down the hall, her lower lip clenched between her teeth. “Willow, what’s wrong with you?” She laid her hand on the redhead’s arm.

“Huh?” Willow settled back down to her feet, blushing a bit under Buffy’s stare. She’d caught another glimpse of blonde hair, but it wasn’t mystery girl.

“I asked what was wrong with you,” Buffy said solemnly. “You haven’t been the same since Halloween.”

“I—” Willow looked at her best friend. I could just tell her, she thought to herself. Buffy, I met someone, and I can’t stop thinking about her… “Buffy, I,” Willow began. Suddenly the world slowed, stopped, and Willow was the only thing left in motion. Buffy was staring at her, but every other student in the hallway was pointing at Willow. This isn’t real, she thought to herself, screwing her eyes shut against the sight.

“Yeah Will,” Buffy said. “What is it?

She opened her eyes again and everything was normal.

“You okay?” Buffy’s eyes were wide.

Willow swallowed. “I’m just not sleeping too well. My parents are still out of town at that conference. It’s kind of creepy being in the house all by myself.”

“Oh,” Buffy cried, slinging an arm around Willow’s shoulder and steering her down the hall. “Why didn’t you say so, Will? Come stay with me, we’ll totally slumber party it. My mom won’t mind.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“Trouble-schmuble. It’ll be fun. Besides,” Buffy laughed. “Mom says you’re a good influence on me and you should come over more often. Ooh, and we can hit the Bronze tonight. What do you say?”

“Sure,” Willow said, smiling. “Thanks Buffy.”

The thought of hanging out with her friends and having fun made the rest of the morning pass a little less painfully. In the afternoon she had the peace and quiet of the computer lab with Ms. Calendar, and then the library with Giles, Xander, and Buffy. She kept herself busy with programming, with books, kept herself distracted so she could ignore the feeling that she was just treading water, that her whole life up till now she’d just been treading water.

After school Buffy took the bus with Willow so they could go to her house and pick up some of her things.

“You better not put any books in that bag,” Buffy told Willow sternly, taking a break from tapping the glass on Willow’s aquarium, sending her tropical fish darting around wildly.

Willow was holding her gray backpack, fiddling with the rainbow straps. “I’ll already packed my books in my other bag, you were watching.”

“I know,” Buffy quipped, “I just don’t want you to bring any more than that. You’re gonna collapse a disc or something.”

“Well, and I do need some clothes to wear,” Willow laughed. “I’m pretty sure the Bronze has an all-nude no-service dress code.”

“Cheeky,” Buffy exclaimed, bursting into laughter. “Like, with the figural and the literal.”

“Hah hah,” Willow replied. She swatted Buffy on the arm and slung a bag over each shoulder. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Both girls were drenched in sweat by the time they reached the Summers’ house, but still giggly even though they were footsore on top of it all. There was a nice surprise waiting for them—Buffy’s mom had left a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the counter with a note that Buffy and Willow should help themselves, and enjoy the fresh lemonade in the fridge.

“How did your mom know I was coming?” Willow asked thickly around a mouthful of cookie.

“I called her over lunch break,” Buffy replied, stealing a chunk off of Willow’s cookie and popping it in her mouth. “Told you she really likes you. Baking doesn’t happen for just anybody, you know.”

“Your mom is so nice,” Willow sighed.

Buffy rolled her eyes and grinned. “Everybody thinks their friends moms’ are nice. Remind me to have you over the next time she’s grounding me.”

“Buffy you know what I mean,” she replied. “She runs that gallery all on her own and still finds time to bake cookies and make lemonade.”

“I think the cookies were from a tube,” Buffy began.

“Buffy my mom can’t even be bothered to go grocery shopping for me before she goes on a trip. She just left me a pile of cash and told me not to spend it all on coffee and junk food.”

“Poor Will,” Buffy sighed, handing Willow another cookie. “Although, quite honestly, if I could choose between cookies and lemonade or a pile of money, I’d err on the side of money.”

“Just so you could buy shoes,” Willow replied. “And then you’d end up going hungry.”

“Nah, you and Xander would feed me. Wouldn’t you?” Buffy trained her most pathetic pout on Willow and it was everything the girl had not to snort lemonade and chocolate chip cookie out her nose.

“Buffy,” Willow swallowed, laughing. “Not while I have a mouthful.”

Buffy just turned about the pout another notch and stalked toward Willow, who backed away, still laughing, till she felt the kitchen counter press against her back. Buffy widened her eyes and batted her lashes, curling her hands up under her chin.

“All right,” Willow cried, holding up her hands. “I give, I give. We’d feed you.”

“Yea, I win!” Buffy celebrated with another cookie.

Willow washed her hands and rinsed her cup, placing it carefully in the top rack of the dishwasher.

“And that’s why my mom likes you,” Buffy laughed. She grabbed Willow’s arm and led her toward the living room, her own cup of lemonade still sitting half-drunk on the counter.

“Your glass—” Willow protested.

“I’ll take care of it before we leave for the Bronze. Waste not-want not, right? Come on, let’s get ready.”

“So much for being a good influence,” Willow said, and let Buffy lead her upstairs.

“It’s a quality overrated by moms anyway.”

Buffy flipped on the light switch and revealed her room was strewn with clothes and shoes on every flat surface. Willow couldn’t make out the top of her friend’s bed, and only a few patches of carpet were visible.

“I had some trouble finding an outfit for today,” Buffy muttered.

“I’ll hang while you look for clothes.”

“What about you?” Buffy asked, as Willow hung three shirts in quick succession and moved them to the closet.

“What’s wrong with what I have on?” Willow looked down at herself. She was wearing a pair of loose denim overalls and gray long-sleeved shirt that made her look as curvy as a twelve-year-old boy. “Oh.” She sighed.

“It’s not that it’s bad, Will—” She stopped when Willow looked up at her with one eyebrow raised. “It’s not. It just doesn’t make the most of your assets.”

“I have assets?” Willow’s voice was a high-pitched whisper.

“Hello,” Buffy replied. “I think we proved that at Halloween.”

Willow fought to keep a glazed grin off her face. Halloween. Just the sound of the word set her heart pounding. She could hear the hum of the skateboard wheels on the asphalt.

“Whatever you say,” she squeaked.

They spent the next hour getting ready for their night out, Buffy going through outfit after outfit that Willow patiently hung back in the closet. When Buffy found the perfect look, they dug through Willow’s backpack, but the slayer wasn’t satisfied with what she found. Despite her protests, Willow found herself trying on skirt after skirt of Buffy’s. They were all a bit too loose or a bit too short for Willow’s comfort, and so in the end she ended up wearing some of her own clothes, despite the return of the Buffy pout. The girls stood side by side in front of Buffy’s mirror. Buffy was stunning in a dark, rose pink tank top, black miniskirt, and knee-high boots.

Willow sighed. “Maybe I should try on that last skirt again.”

“You look cute.”

Willow had her hair pulled up on the crown of her head in a ponytail. She was wearing her white rubber ducky tee tucked into a pair of snug-fitting blue jeans and a pair of white sneakers.

“I don’t know, Buffy.” Willow replied, turning sideways. “These jeans don’t leave much to the imagination.”

“And thus the cute,” she replied. As Willow opened her mouth to protest again the doorbell rang. “And saved by the bell.” She pulled Willow out of the room and down the stairs.

The bell rang again. “Go ahead and answer it, Will.” Buffy said, grinning. “I’m going to go finish my lemonade. See you are a good influence on me.”

“Right.” She opened the door and Xander was leaning against the doorframe.

“Ready to—” Xander’s eyes widened. “Gah-yow. Nice jeans.” He quipped.

“I blame Buffy,” Willow said firmly. Sweet, safe Xander.

“Do I smell cookies?”

“You do indeed, Harris,” Buffy replied, walking from the kitchen with a cookie in each hand. “It’s getting late, you’ll have to eat them on the way.”

Xander’s mouth dropped open. “Wow, Buff. Nice outfit.”

Buffy pressed the cookies into Xander’s hand and flashed an apologetic glance at Willow. “Thanks.”

They went out the door and Willow gave a little groan. The heat of the day hadn’t diminished much, if at all. It was going to be a long walk to the Bronze.

“Why don’t any of us have cars?” Buffy wailed. “I’m going to look like Betty Davis in What Happened to Baby Jane by the time we get there.”

“The parents say I’m too young,” Willow replied.

“The parents are too poor.” Xander said.

“And I’m a hazard.” Buffy said matter-of-factly.

Xander and Willow just stared.

“No really,” Buffy sighed. “My mother has documentation.”

“Walking it is, then.” Xander grumbled.

“Come on guys,” Willow said, locking arms with her friends. “It won’t be so bad. We’ll get there, have some cold drinks, and the Bronze is always freezing. You know how you like shivery girls, Xander,” she teased.

“That’s true,” he said, grinning widely.

“And maybe there will be some vampires you can kill on the way, Buff. That’ll take the edge off.”

“Our Willow,” Buffy said, pulling her best friend close. “She always knows just how to cheer us up.”

“Speaking of taking the edge off,” Xander said, as they moved east toward the Bronze.

“Huh?’ Willow asked.

He pointed. “What’s with the crowd? That can’t be good.”

There was a large group of people on a corner two blocks down. Fifteen, maybe twenty people gathered together, looking toward the same hidden spot. Willow shuddered, suddenly freezing even in the hot, damp air. If they were vamps, or demons, there wouldn’t be anything any of them could do, not even Buffy.

“Maybe we should go,” Willow whispered. She looked over at Buffy and was surprised to see the slayer grinning. “Buffy?”

“Some joke we missed, Buff?”

“You guys can’t hear that?” Buffy asked. Willow and Xander were dumbfounded. “Oh,” Buffy said after a moment. “Slayer hearing.”

“Well what is it?” Willow asked.

“It’s a musician, she’s good. Wanna go have a listen?”

“Sure,” Xander shrugged.

Willow nodded, “Okay.”

The trio moved forward, and within a few steps Willow could hear faint strains of guitar music on the air. It was beautiful, haunting. As they grew closer she could hear a voice, winding in and around the notes from the guitar, high and melodic. Willow sped her pace, walking past Xander and Buffy. As the music became clearer, somehow, impossibly, even lovelier, she started to jog toward the crowd. She heard Xander and Buffy call for her, but she didn’t stop.

Willow reached the crowd and murmured apologies as she pushed her way through the press of people. In a few seconds she made it to the edge of the crowd and took a gasping breath. She could feel her heart leap, but it wasn’t painful, it was sweet. The musician playing so wonderfully, singing so divinely, golden hair shining under the streetlights, was her mystery girl.

END CHAPTER 1
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This is my very first post, and I hope this is going to keep the formatting from the file I pasted. It looks like all my quotes and italics are here from my word doc file, but please forgive me if I needed to do the BBCode stuff and this gets messed up once I submit. If it does, I'll fix it!

That was absolutley awesome. Great writing, great job. Can't wait for the next installment

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lost in the blue

Hey, thanks for getting dibs on my first ever posted fan fic, I am really glad you like it. I'll confess, I'm actually already six chapters in to this story, I tried to get quite a bit written so I could post once or twice a week and not keep folks waiting too long. Keep an eye out for the next installment. And I promise I will finish! [/u]

AU Season 2?

That draws me in straight away.

Great start. Can't wait for Willow to meet Tara properly.

Looking forward to seeing how this progresses!

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Amber Benson killed me once.

Check out my finished fics

Love, The Series … Two For Joy/21+/Joy To The World … Inevitable/Infinitely …

Confidential Eternal … A Twisted Date … Dachsund Through The Snow

SURPRISE! I'm everywhere! But you already know I love it!

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Ripples - Pretty Much Perfect and The Sequel to the Sequel, Who's That Girl?
Every Step That I Retrace/Always Leads Me Back to You/But I've Loved You All Along
Road to Recovery, The Call/The Lightning Strike, The Sun Will Rise

Thanks for the feedback so far, ladies! I'm so excited to have so many reads already, and psyched to have finally made Floating Rose! It's a good day all around. I put a shout-out on TWOTH that I'm going to put here too. Once I've hit 200 reads on both fics, I'll post a 2nd chapter. Early bonus!

As promised, here's chapter two:

Title - Wave
• Author name – LonelyTara
• Email Address - 9kodama@gmail.com
• Rating - PG-13, eventually R
• Disclaimer - This is a romantic and angsty AU piece with plenty of adventure (eventually). All things Buffy belong to the Whedon man, Fox, Mutant Enemy, et al. Please don't sue.
• Feedback-Please, please!
• Summary- Wave is a season 2 AU. On Halloween, Willow meets a strange and beautiful blond girl, and becomes determined to find her. When they connect, Willow's life will be changed forever...
• Notes-Thanks to everyone who will read.

Chapter Two: First Date

Willow’s mystery girl was just finishing Angel by Sarah McLachlan, voice quivering and clear and passionate as she sang about finding peace. She was still dressed all in blue, the same combat boots from Halloween now paired with a sky blue t-shirt and denim cutoffs that revealed long, slim, peaches-and-cream legs. Even her guitar, Willow could now see, was blue, coated in a translucent finish that allowed the wood grain to show through. The guitar was a twelve-string, and the girl’s slender fingers danced over the neck with lightning speed. Willow willed the girl to look up from her guitar, to show her those beautiful blue eyes again, but she stared down at the guitar as she sang, letting her golden hair fall forward like curtains to hide her face.

The song she was playing came to an end and the crowd applauded. In the moment of silence that followed, people tossed money, coins and bills, into the girl’s guitar case. Willow felt Buffy and Xander step up on either side of her just as the musician launched right into a song about Portland, lighter, faster, more bluegrass than ballad. “Oh, I love The Replacements,” a woman murmured to the man standing next to her.

“What’s up, Will?” Buffy whispered.

“Isn’t she wonderful?” Willow sighed.

“Yeah,” Xander replied. “She plays really well. It’s hot out here though; let’s get to the Bronze. You promised me cold and shivery girls.”

Willow felt a little stab of panic at the thought of walking away from her mystery girl. She’d just found her; she couldn’t leave her again, not now. I don’t even know her name, Willow thought, I have to find out who she is.

“I want to hear a whole song,” Willow replied in a hush. “I just caught the end of the last one.”

“I’m getting all melty and my hair is starting to frizz,” Buffy complained. “Cordelia is going to have a field day.”

“You guys go ahead,” Willow said quickly. “I’ll catch up.”

“Well,” Xander began.

“The Bronze is right around the corner,” Willow interrupted.

“You’ll really be all right?” Buffy asked.

“I’ll be fine.” Better than fine, because I’ll be nervous enough talking to her without you guys watching.

“Okay, see you in a few,” Buffy replied.

Willow just nodded; she never took her eyes off the blue girl. When the song ended she began to do a quick tuning check on her guitar, plucking strings and tightening and loosening pegs faster than Willow could track. More members of the audience threw money into the guitar case. Willow made a quick decision. She slid her change purse out of her pocket and pulled out what was left of the money her parents had left her for food. It had to be over eighty dollars. With one long step she moved in front of the guitar case and dumped the whole wad of bills in.

As soon as the money hit the velveteen lining Willow could see the girl’s shoulders drop in surprise. Her head tilted up and Willow caught a glimpse of blue, could’ve sworn that she saw a smile tweak the corner of the girl’s mouth, but then she was looking down at her guitar again, strumming out a few notes. Willow stepped backward into the crowd, and the girl began to hum, playing another round of the opening notes. As she began to sing, she looked up for the first time, locking eyes with Willow and smiling. Willow felt a wave of heat sweep through her; she’d never felt so flustered just from having someone’s eyes on her.

“Don’t know much about your life. Don’t know much about your world, but
Don’t wanna be alone tonight, on this planet they call Earth.”

Willow was transfixed. The girl’s gaze remained locked on her; it was like the rest of her audience wasn’t even there. She was singing for Willow.

“You don’t know about my past, and I don’t have a future figured out,
And maybe this is goin’ too fast, but girl I think it’s meant to last…”

Willow felt her own smile broaden, her cheeks were warm. Was she just imagining a similar flush of pink in the girl’s neck?

So what do you say to takin’ chances? What do you say to jumpin’ off the edge?
Never knowin’ if there’s solid ground below, or a hand to hold, or hell to pay,
What do you say? What do you say?”

The mystery girl, the girl in blue, the guitarist, was sending Willow on an emotional rollercoaster. She could feel sweat beading along her brow line, cooling the palm of her hands. There was such joy and such sadness in the young musician, and Willow wanted to know everything that had happened in her life to touch her with such happiness and grief.

“I just wanna start again, and maybe you could show me how to try
Maybe you could take me in, somewhere underneath your skin
What do you say to takin’ chances? What do you say to jumpin’ off the edge?
Never knowin’ if there’s solid ground below, or a hand to hold, or hell to pay,
What do you say? What do you say?”

The tempo of the girl’s playing picked up and she tilted her head back, closing her eyes as she strummed at the guitar with fervor. Willow almost whimpered at being deprived of the girl’s gaze.

“Hey now, hey my heart is beaten down, but I’m always comin’ back for more
There’s nothing like love to pull you up, when you’re lying down on the floor, babe.
So talk to me, talk to me…”

The girl’s eyes opened again, still looking just at Willow. Her smile broadened as she sang:

“Like lovers do, walk with me, walk with me, like lovers do, like lovers do…”

Her smile broadened as she sang. Willow felt heat coursing through her body, leaving her trembling.

“What do you say to takin’ chances? What do you say to jumpin’ off the edge?
Never knowin’ if there’s solid ground below, or a hand to hold, or hell to pay What do you say? What do you say?

As the song came to a close the girl’s voice dropped to a whisper, she tilted her head as she watched Willow watching her.

“Don’t know much about your life
And I don’t know much about your world…

Willow burst into wild applause as the girl played her final notes of the song, just a few seconds ahead of the rest of the crowd. She didn’t know if it was the streetlight or the pale shirt the girl was wearing, but tonight there was a turquoise sheen to those dark blue eyes that made the girl look otherworldly, ethereal. She played four more songs, hidden again behind her long hair. Willow just smiled and swayed to the music, hoping that the girl would catch her eye—hoping that she could feel that thrill one more time—and in the same moment she feared the girl would catch her trembling.

At the end of the fourth song Willow’s mystery girl thanked her crowd for listening, and told them all to travel safely. There was another enthusiastic round of applause and then the crowd began to thin out. A few people moved toward the girl to express their appreciation, twice Willow heard them ask her for a CD to purchase, but the girl replied to them so softly that Willow couldn’t hear her response. Those fans walked away empty-handed, so she assumed to the girl didn’t have music to sell. Finally the stragglers all wandered away, down toward the Bronze or out into the night. They were alone.

Willow watched the mystery girl move the change and bills out of the body of her case and into a small silk pouch that had been sown into the top of the case. With slow reverence, with easy grace, the girl crouched down and slid the guitar into its case. She closed it, latched it, and stood, swinging it onto her back all in one smooth motion. With that done she lifted her skateboard from where it leaned on the wall behind her. Willow realized that if she didn’t speak up, her mystery girl was going to roll of into the dark, again.

“Hello,” Willow said softly.

She must’ve startled the girl because she spun around, wide-eyed, but then stilled as soon as she saw Willow. A small smile curved the corners of her full lips. Willow found herself thinking about how soft those lips must be, wondered what it would be like to touch them, kiss them, and her heart began to race.

“You played beautifully,” Willow said in a rush. “And in so many different styles. I don’t know if you remember me, we saw each other on Halloween. I-I looked different then, I guess,” she said, wishing she could stop, wishing she had borrowed some of Buffy’s clothes so her mystery girl would recognize her. “It was a cool trick that you did on your board, turning backward like that. I couldn’t get you out of my head—the trick, out of my head. And now I found you and I’d like to know if I can buy you a cup of coffee.” She took a deep, gasping breath.

“I’m sorry,” Willow finished. “I don’t usually use so many words to say stuff that little.”

The girl’s eyes opened even wider and that big crooked grin that had so occupied Willow’s thoughts for the past few nights spread across her face. I love that smile, Willow thought. Like, it. I like it. I really like that smile.

“I think y-you just gave me all your money.” The girl replied. Her voice was soft, and just as melodic as when she sang.

Willow’s face fell and she could feel a blush creep into her cheeks. “Oh, you’re right.”

Willow took a step backward and the girl put a hand out like she was going to touch her, but hesitated, drew her hand back toward her chest. “I’ll tell you w-what,” the girl said. “I made a good haul, I think you need to let me b-buy you a cup.”

Willow couldn’t stop herself, she felt a goofy grin spread across her face and she bounced on the balls of her feet. She was worried that she looked stupid, but the girl’s smile only deepened.

“Come on,” she told Willow, “There’s a nice shop a few blocks down from here.”

She turned away from Willow, walking westward away from the Bronze, when Willow remembered something important, something crucial, something absolutely key.

“Wait,” she said softly. She clasped her hands together in front of her, smiling. When the girl turned, when she saw those eyes, Willow had to resist the urge to laugh aloud. “What’s your name?”

The crooked smile was back in a flash and Willow felt a delicious quiver. That smile, she knew she could really get used to that smile…

“I’m Tara,” the girl said. “What’s yours?”

“Mine?” Willow squeaked. For a terrorizing moment she actually thought she wouldn’t be able to remember. “Willow,” she said, almost convulsively. “I’m Willow.”

Tara tipped her head. “Earth and tree, it’s meant to be,” she intoned.

“Huh?” Willow asked.

“Terra,” Tara said, pointing to herself. “And Willow,” she added, pointing to the nervous redhead.

“Oh, Latin joke!” Willow cried, bursting into loud laughter. Rein it in Rosenberg, she pleaded with herself. She’s going to think you’re slow! She dropped down off the balls of her feet and smiled, the tip of her tongue peeking between her teeth. “Sorry,” she murmured.

“Why sorry?” Tara giggled. “You’re the only person who’s ever gotten one of my jokes before.” She paused, and Willow definitely saw a blush in the girl’s cheeks. “And your laugh is really cute.”

It took everything in Willow to keep her mouth from dropping open. Cute, she thinks I’m cute?

“Come on, Willow,” Tara said, still giggling. “It’s coffee time.”

* * *

Tara took Willow to a coffee shop a few blocks down, a little hole-in-the-wall place that Willow had never been in because she’d always assumed it was a bar. It was surprisingly cute inside, the evergreen walls were lined with polished oak two-seat booths, and the main floor was filled with mismatched tables and chairs in every color and shape imaginable. There was a tiny stage at the far end of the shop, and all the lighting came from tea lights and small round Christmas lights strung across the ceiling like stars.

“Wow,” Willow breathed. “This place is so adorable. And it smells great.”

Tara grinned and ducked her head, hiding her face behind her long hair for a moment. Willow wanted to reach out and brush her hair back, reveal her beautiful smile.

“I’m g-glad you like it,” Tara murmured, looking up. “They have the b-best coffee I’ve ever tasted.”

“I can’t wait to try it,” Willow replied. “Should we get a table, or a booth?”

“Booth?” Tara asked.

“Sure!” Willow wanted to take Tara’s hand, but Tara was carrying her guitar case in one hand and her skateboard in the other. “Do you need some help with that?”

“N-no, but thanks,” Tara said, smiling shyly. “Is this okay?” She gestured to a booth halfway down the wall that had a tiny turquoise votive sitting on the middle of the table, casting a flickering blue glow.

“Perfect.”

Willow slid into a seat and Tara slid into the booth across from her, propping her guitar case against the wall and sliding her long board under her feet. The moment they settled in, a thin man with a huge mop of curly hair dyed apple green walked up with menus.

“Hi there,” he said with a wide grin. “I’m Jamie, welcome to Zanja Muro.”

“Zanja Muro?” Willow asked, snorting with laughter. “It’s really called hole in the wall?”

Their waiter’s eyes widened. “Ooh, she’s a smart one, Tara,” Jamie laughed, nudging the blonde’s shoulder with his elbow. “You better keep her.”

Willow looked at Tara and saw the girl blushing with a burn she felt matched in her own cheeks.

“You two are adorable,” he sighed. “Why don’t I start you off with two cups of Kona, it just came in from Mauna Loa. I swear to goodness it is a vacation in your mouth.”

“S-sounds delicious,” Tara stammered. “Is t-that okay, W-Willow?”

Willow didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just nodded.

“I’ll be right back, girls.”

And then there was just Tara. The soft piano music over the sound system faded away, and Willow just watched her no-longer-a-mystery girl. Her hair had a glow from the lights twinkling above their heads, and the votive cast a wavering light on her hands, reminding Willow of the first time they met, when she saw the girl as a mermaid, surfing down the street. Had it really only been two days? Tara dropped her eyes and smiled, a tiny grin that Willow imagined was her attempt to hold in a full smile. Willow sighed, smiled, and propped her cheek up on her fist. Tara tucked her hair behind her ears and gave a little giggle.

“You’re s-staring.” She murmured.

Willow straightened up. “Was I?” She asked. “I was just thinking about how nice it was of you to get me coffee.” I wasn’t thinking about how beautiful you are, or how I really think I’m kinda gay. “I appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I could do for my best t-tipper,” Tara replied, catching Willow’s eye for a moment and then dropped her gaze back to her hands where they rested on the table, fingers tapping as if she could play the wood beneath them.

Before Willow could reply, Jamie was back. He sat two large, steaming cups on the table. The one he placed in front of Willow was shiny with rich cornflower-blue enamel; Tara’s cup was grass green.

“Honey for sweet Tara,” Jamie said, pulling a small glass vial out of the crook of his arm and placing it on the table. “How about you, miss?” He asked Willow. “Do you take cream, sugar?”

“I’m Willow,” she said, smiling. “And honey will be just fine.”

“Excellent,” he murmured, and leaned over the table. “The first round’s on me.” Tara opened her mouth to protest and Jamie shook his head. “No arguments. You two enjoy and I’ll be back in a few minutes to see if you’d like anything to eat.” He looked down at their menus and laughed. “You haven’t even cracked those yet, have you?”

Tara shook her head, blushing furiously now.

“Well, take a break on the goo-goo eyes and pick some food. You both look like you could use a good meal.”

As soon as Jamie walked away both girls burst into laughter.

“He’s really funny,” Willow said, reveling in the sweet sound of Tara’s laughter.

“I come in here pretty r-regularly,” Tara replied. “Jamie’s always been n-nice to me. Are you hungry?” She asked, playing with the corner of the menu with one long, slim finger.

“A little.”

“W-we could get an appetizer, and share,” Tara said. “Do you like hummus? Their hummus is really good, they serve it with toasted pitas.”

“Yum!” Willow cried. “Sounds delicious.”

“Good.”

Tara opened the honey and rolled her spoon around in it, lifting a large golden globe of honey out of the jar and dropping it into her coffee. She stirred slowly, lifting her spoon every now and again to see if the honey was melted. As soon as the thin, bright lines of honey stopped trailing between her coffee and spoon Tara look a long sip from her cup. The arch of Tara’s throat, the shift of muscles as she swallowed, fascinated Willow.

“Your coffee will get cold,” a voice said softly.

Willow looked up to see Jamie grinning down at her. “Uh,” she began.

“Did you decide on something to eat?” He asked.

Willow could see Tara watching them from the corner of her eye. “Hummus, please.”

“Good choice. Drink up.”

She dropped a spoonful of honey in the coffee and took a big swallow, tipping the cup up to avoid the temptation to stare at Tara some more. The coffee was smooth and creamy.

“It tastes like dark chocolate,” Willow said happily. Setting the cup back down on the table, half empty.

“Um, y-yeah,” Tara murmured. “I t-told you, best coffee ever.”

“My tummy’s all warm now,” Willow replied, settling back in her chair. Tara took another sip of coffee, watching Willow over the top of her cup. Willow smiled and Tara gave a little cough.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine, I just need to remember not to inhale the coffee.”

Willow giggled and Tara flashed her crooked grin. “So Tara,” Willow said, given courage by the warmth of the girl’s smile. “How long have you been living in Sunnydale?” I want to know everything about you.

“N-not long,” Tara replied, ducking her head and peering up at Willow with those blue eyes. “Just a few weeks. You?”

“Born and raised,” Willow said, grinning sheepishly. “Lame I know.”

“It’s n-not lame, it’s just home.”

“Where’s home for you, do you miss it?” Willow asked.

“I’m f-from Oregon,” Tara replied. She paused for a moment, lost in thought. “I do m-miss the trees.”

“Oregon?” Willow leaned forward, running a finger over the lip of her cup. “How cool, did you get to see lots of redwoods?”

“Sometimes.” Tara smiled, but Willow could see the sorrow she was fighting. “My family h-has a little farm, with lots of birch and elm trees around it, b-but there’s a state park about thirty minutes away with huge redwoods.”

“I’m jealous,” Willow said, giving a mock pout that she hoped would cheer the blonde up. “I’ve never seen redwoods. There’s a park though, called Stow Grove, that isn’t too far from here, I heard they have some redwoods but my folks never want to go, they aren’t very outdoorsy. We could go there together some time, if you want, maybe it would help with the homesick?” Tara still looked so sad. Willow sighed. “I guess it wouldn’t be the same, huh? You must really miss your friends too.”

Tara took another sip of her coffee. “You can’t miss what you didn't have,” she replied, voice soft, staring down into her cup.

“Huh? Oh, come on Tara, you’re so sweet; you must’ve had a few friends. I mean I don’t have a big circle of friends or anything. I never did. Now I have two best friends, Xander and Buffy, oh and there’s Giles, he’s the librarian—a cool librarian though,” Willow said when Tara’s eyebrows shot up. “And maybe Cordelia. No,” she said thoughtfully. “Not Cordelia.”

“There were a c-couple of girls I talked to at school,” Tara said, once again avoiding Willow’s eye. “But we were never really close, we didn’t hang out outside of school or anything.”

She was quiet for a moment, and Willow was afraid she’d upset her, hurt her feelings, but then she looked up at Willow with a little smile on her face.

“And of course there were our horses,” Tara said. Her grin widened. “We have two. Cirrus is our old draft horse; he’s the same color as the sky just as it starts to rain. And we have a yearling filly, a chestnut my mother named Summer.”

“H-horses?” Willow asked. Tara nodded and Willow felt her stomach drop. She was afraid of horses. “Horses, like big, tall, teeth that can take your arm off horses?”

Tara tilted her head. “Oh sure, I learned to ride when I was a kid. It’s fun. And by the way,” she giggled, “Most horses don't like arm very much.”

“I had a bad birthday party pony thing when I was four.” Willow said, trying not to sound like a mad woman. “I look at horses and I see really big ponies.”

“You should ride with me some time, I guarantee safety and fun.”

“Well,” Willow murmured. “If you promise you’ll look after me…” Are we flirting? Willow marveled.

Tara nodded enthusiastically. “Promise.”

“So,” Willow said, fighting the urge to catch the tip of her tongue between her teeth. “What happened to them when your family moved?”

“W-what?” Tara asked. “Oh, well, they’re-the horses are still on the farm. That’s where they belong.”

“Hummus!” Jamie announced, making both girls jump. He slid their votive aside and sat a large triangular ceramic plate in the center of the table. “Enjoy!”

The plate had a huge mound of hummus in the center of it, sprinkled with paprika and garnished with a large leaf of fresh basil. An army of toasted pita triangles fanned out around it. Willow reached out for the basil, licking her lips, and found herself playing tug of war with Tara.

“You like fresh basil?” Tara asked.

“Like it? I love it.” Willow replied. “I could eat it from a spoon. Buffy and Xander think its weird.”

“They must’ve never tried it.”

“That’s what I always say!” Willow laughed, and then dropped her end of the leaf. “But you can have it though.”

“How about we share?” Tara asked. She tore the leaf in half along its center vein and held out a piece.

“Thanks,” Willow replied. Both girls blushed and popped the basil in their mouths.

Willow couldn’t remember ever having a better time. While they snacked on pitas and nursed their coffee, the pair talked about everything from philosophy to history to music. She’d never met anyone that could keep up with her quick, eclectic mind so easily. Willow found out that Tara had been studying Latin since elementary school, and could read and write it fluently. And she loved mythology and folklore, a favorite topic of Willow’s.

They spent an hour talking comparing goddesses from the Celtic, Welsh, and Japanese pantheons, barely noticing as Jamie cleared away their demolished plate of hummus and refilled their coffees. Tara laughed and sighed in all the right places as Willow told her about Ukemochi, the goddess doomed for hurling up rice and fish to feed the world. And Willow was entranced as Tara told Willow a tale of the lost seal brothers of Lugh of the Long Arms, literally dabbing tears from her cheeks as Tara wound the sorrowful tale to a close.

“What an amazing story,” Willow sighed. “Tara you know more about myths than anyone I’ve ever met, you might even know more than Giles.”

“Well, that one was from a book my grandmother owned, she got it from her mom. I think it might be the only copy anywhere. So that one doesn’t really count as one of mine.”

“Sure it does,” Willow replied, grinning as she took another sip of coffee. Her hands were shaking, a combination of copious amounts of caffeine and the wonderful company

She was about to ask Tara to tell her another story when the door to the shop opened, and Buffy and Xander came in, looking frantic. Xander had a smear of dirt on one cheek and his jeans were torn. Buffy blouse was rumpled and wrinkled and her hair looked like she’d been caught in a cyclone.

“Willow!” Buffy cried, relief clear on her face. She and Xander rushed over to their table and wrapped her in a group hug. “We thought something terrible had happened to you.”

“Guys,” Willow said, muffled by the press of her friends’ bodies. “I’m fine. I was just having coffee with my new friend, Tara.”

“Coffee?” Xander exclaimed, backing away and throwing his arms in the air. “You were supposed to come to the Bronze like three hours ago. Buffy and I thought you got maul-mugged,” Xander said swiftly after an elbow from the slayer. “We thought you got mugged and you’ve been here drinking coffee? Is that really coffee? It smells so good—”

“A bit off topic, Xander.” Buffy scolded. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“I’m great, guys, this is Tara.” Willow held a hand out toward the blonde, who’d squashed herself into the far end of the booth, ducking her head, but she still threw her hand up in a quick hello.

“You were playing outside earlier, right?” Buffy asked. When Tara nodded Buffy smiled. “You’re really talented.”

“T-thank you,” Tara murmured.

“She’s really smart too,” Willow gushed.

“N-not as smart as Willow.” Tara said softly.

Willow grinned at her and turned back to Xander and Buffy. “I’m sorry that I lost track of time, but Tara and I got to talking after her show was done and we decided to get a cup of coffee. You guys wouldn’t believe the stuff she knows. I think she might like books even more than Giles.”

I saw her on Halloween, Willow thought, imagining what it would be like to speak the words aloud to her friends. And I had to find her because she’s just, well, look at her. She’s amazing. Is that stalking? I think maybe on a technical level, but since there’s no malice…oh God, I even babble in my own head.

“Impossible,” Xander replied. He held up a hand in greeting. “Hey Tara, I’m Xander, also known as the spastic one. Sorry for all the me making with the loud. We were just worried about Willow.”

“That’s o-okay. Do you guys want to join us?”

Willow almost hoped they would say no.

“Oh yes,” Buffy sighed, pulling a chair up to the table and settling in it. “I could really use a break. My stylish yet affordable shoes have betrayed me.”

“I obviously don’t need any more caffeine,” Xander joked, still clearly embarrassed by his outburst. “But food would be good. Do they do food here?”

“You should try the hummus,” Willow said. “But Tara and I have dibs on the basil.”

“Ew,” Buffy said, wrinkling her nose. “Don’t tell me you share Willow’s odd fascination for herbage.”

“You can’t judge if you haven’t tried it, huh Tara?”

The musician nodded, smiling. She’d straightened up in her seat, clearly relaxing as she saw the affection the trio of friends had for each other. Jamie came and buzzed around the table for a few minutes, warmly greeting his new customers and grabbing cokes for them with lightning speed. Buffy, Xander, and Willow chatted happily about school, the gruesome Principal Snyder, and the terrible band that had been playing that night at the Bronze.

Tara interjected now and then, often grinning and giggling at the trio. Willow could’ve sworn she caught the beautiful girl staring at her once or twice. When their second round of sodas came up Tara joined in the conversation.

“So, do y-you guys like folklore and mythology and stuff too? Willow knows a lot of s-stuff.”

“Uh, is that something I’d learn in social studies class?” Buffy asked.

Tara nodded.

“Eh,” Buffy grimaced. “I was afraid so, no, not so much then.”

“Oh,” Tara said softly, and then brightened. “Are you guys computer whizzes then? Willow told me all about the lab you guys have at school.” She laughed. “I don’t know anything about computers.”

“Still a school thing, so not so much.” Xander ruffled Willow’s hair affectionately. “Will’s the resident genius around here.”

“Yeah,” Buffy said, nodding. “The brains of the operation.”

“Guys,” Willow murmured, blushed with a heady blend of embarrassment and pride.

“She’s also a champion blusher,” Xander teased.

“Don’t make it any worse,” Buffy scolded. “She might spontaneously combust.”

“Guys!” Willow cried, sure her face must look like a four-alarm fire. But Tara was rocking with laughter, face flushed, so Willow didn’t really mind the embarrassment.

“You d-didn’t tell me your friends were so funny,” Tara chuckled.

“I guess it all depends on your perspective,” Willow grumbled.

“Hey, humor’s the only thing I’ve got going for me at this point,” Xander said, tugging down his sleeve. “Don’t start knocking it now, Will.”

“Aw, poor Xander,” Buffy said, smiling. “But look,” she cried as Jamie walked up. “Food will heal your Willow-wounded soul.”

Xander and Buffy dug into their appetizer and Willow shook her head and rolled her eyes at them, which just made Tara laugh louder. Her joy sent Willow into a burst of giggles and soon both girls were laughing hard enough to make their eyes water.

“Stomach hurts,” Tara gasped between laughs.

Willow nodded. Buffy looked up from her plate and gave them both a solemn glance, the effect of which was totally ruined by the hummus on her chin.

“How much coffee have you guys had tonight?” She asked.

Willow and Tara went wide-eyed at the smear of hummus, really howling with laughter.

“Definitely too much coffee,” Buffy murmured.

“You savin’ that for later, Buff?” Xander asked, pointing at her face.

Buffy reached up and touched the glob of hummus. “Oh man,” she said, grabbing a napkin and rubbing her face. “Nice. You two could’ve told me.”

“Couldn’t,” Willow panted, “Too much with the laughing.”

All three girls broke into giggles again as Xander used to last two pitas so scoop up a huge pile of hummus and drop it in his mouth.

“Wha?” He asked, talking around the mouthful.

“Very smooth, Harris,” Buffy said.

“I said I wah hunry.”

“Chew, you’re going to choke,” Willow urged.

Xander swallowed and held up his arms. “And hungry boy lives!” He crowed.

“Oh, but I’m going to die,” Buffy groaned.

“What’s w-wrong?” Tara asked.

Buffy pointed to the far side of the bar, where a Felix the Cat clock painted lime green with purple swirls hung on the wall.

“It’s midnight, I’m an hour late for curfew.” The young slayer dropped her head in her hands.

“That’s mean’s we’re an hour late,” Willow said, horrorstruck. “And I’m supposed to be a good influence on you!”

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you that,” Buffy mumbled into her hands.

Tara watched this exchange with a tiny smile on her face. “I guess you guys better head out,” she said sadly.

“I, I’m really sorry, Tara,” Willow replied. “I wish I could stay.” She didn’t want the night to be over, she could only help Tara felt the same way. Willow looked around the shop, trying to write the lights and the candles and the charming mismatch tables into her memory.

“Hey,” Tara said softly. Willow’s head snapped up. “I lost you there for a minute.”

“Sorry, I want to remember this place. I had a really nice time tonight.”

“W-we could come here again, sometime.” The delicious crooked grin resurfaced, just for a moment.

“Okay.” Inside Willow was doing Xander’s snoopy dance.

“You better go,” Tara said, tilting her head toward Buffy. Xander was rubbing her on the back, totally failing to comfort her.

The four of them bid Jamie goodnight, and then Tara paid the bill, insisting that she pick up Xander and Buffy’s drinks and food. The duo didn’t fight too hard for the right to pay, but Willow didn’t have the heart to be annoyed with them, she was too distracted by the honeysuckle scent radiating from Tara as they walked to the door. Out under the streetlights Tara’s hair was haloed once again in a radiant golden glow.

“Well, it was n-nice to meet you,” Tara said, smiling. “All of you.” She laid her board on the ground. “Have a good night.”

“Will,” Xander said, “Don’t you think we should walk Tara home?”

“Huh?” Willow asked, still watching Tara’s smile.

“It’s kind of late,” he said slowly. “You don’t want her to run into any vam—”

“V-van violence,” Willow babbled. “That is so true. A guy…in a van tried to run her over on Halloween.”

“It’s okay,” Tara replied. “I can take care of myself.”

Willow’s brow furrowed. She’d been so distracted by her thoughts of Tara that she hadn’t even considered the danger the young musician was putting herself in being out so late on her own. Visions of vampires and demons paraded across Willow’s imagination.

“You’re right, Xander,” she replied. “He’s right, Tara, Sunnydale has a pretty high uh…crime rate.”

“No arguments,” Buffy said firmly. “You should let us walk you home.”

Tara bit her lip and looked between the three of them thoughtfully. “You guys know about the vampires, don’t you?”

Willow’s mouth dropped open and she dimly heard Buffy say, “Wah-huh?”

“Vampires?” Xander asked, forcing a laugh. He started waving his arms wildly. “That’s crazy talk. That’s crazy, right Buffy, Willow?”

Tara was grinning at them slyly one hand on her hip.

“She knows, Xander,” Willow sighed.

Tara nodded. “It’s sweet of you guys to worry, but I k-know how to keep safe.” She pulled a small metal flask out of her pocket and shook it; Willow could hear liquid sloshing around.

“Liquor is going to save you from vampires?” Xander asked.

“It’s not b-booze,” Tara laughed.

“Holy water?” Buffy asked.

“Right in one.”

“Yeah,” Willow said softly, taking a step closer to the blonde. “But what if there’s more than one? Sometimes they hunt in packs, you know?”

“That’s where my t-trusty steed comes in.” Tara tapped her board with her foot. “They can’t kill me if they can’t catch me.”

“You’re prepared,” Buffy said, giving Tara an appraising glance. Willow could tell the slayer was impressed. “But still, better safe than sorry. We can still walk with you.”

“I don’t want to make you any later than you already are,” Tara replied.

Buffy’s face paled. “Curfew, I’m getting deader by the second!”

“I should let you guys head out.” Tara stepped onto her board.

“Wait,” Willow said, holding out a hand so Tara wouldn’t leave. “Will I see you at school? Where do you have first period?”

“I’m uh, I’m not enrolled yet,” Tara said, looking down at her feet. “I-I’m being homeschooled for now. I might finish out high school that way.”

“How will I find you?” Willow asked. She hoped that Buffy and Xander couldn’t hear the plaintiveness she felt at the thought that she might not see Tara again. She wanted to take another step closer to Tara, but felt too exposed in front of her friends, under the starlight.

“Just listen for the music,” Tara whispered. “Good night, Willow.” Tara pushed off into the darkness before any of them could protest further. “Thanks for the c-coffee,” Tara called from the dark. “Nite Buffy, Xander!”

“Goodnight Tara!” Willow cried after her.

“I like your new friend, Will.” Buffy said, looking out into the night where Tara had ridden away. “Tara seems pretty cool.”

“Yeah, cute too,” Xander said. Willow turned and glared. “What?” He asked.

“Behave yourself, Harris,” Buffy sighed.

She gave Willow a sympathetic look and Willow almost laughed out loud. She thinks I’m jealous because of Xander, if she only knew!

Buffy pulled Willow out of her reverie. “Let’s head out, guys. My mom is going to go nuclear.”

They were half way back to Buffy’s when a thought hit Willow like a flash of lightning. She’d had her first date. Her first date, but she would make sure it wasn’t the last date she had with Tara. Buffy and Xander asked her again and again what she was so smiley about, but for once Willow wasn’t talking.

Aww, cute! I love their little date! And how worried Buffy and Xander were when Willow didn't show up... Can't wait to see how they meet again!

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Ripples - Pretty Much Perfect and The Sequel to the Sequel, Who's That Girl?
Every Step That I Retrace/Always Leads Me Back to You/But I've Loved You All Along
Road to Recovery, The Call/The Lightning Strike, The Sun Will Rise

Thanks for the quick feedback!


By the way, I forgot to mention this is the Kara DioGuardi and David A. Stewart from Eurythmics, version of Taking Chances, not the Celine Dion version that was produced by John Shanks. The lyrics aren't mine, but I did change a few lines (girl I think it's meant to last)

Hi,
Just finished reading both your stories and I love them. Love your writing style, love your characters, loving the plot, can't wait for more. As a felllow skateboarder, i'm loving Tara as a skater chick. Although who learns latin nowadays from primary school? I'm intrigued about Tara's past, can't wait to read more.
cheers

Hey, glad you're liking both stories whirlwindcharmer! Tara's mom started teaching her Latin when she was little--maybe I should edit to include that...I love longboarding, doesn't it just seem so Tara somehow?

Keep reading, I'll update both stories again this Friday.

Nice! I'm enjoying this - looking forward to more!

Keep up the good work!

- FIRESIGN
aka Cin

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"Visions" by C.L. Zastrow
Available Now at http://www.zastrowvisions.com and http://www.amazon.com

ooOOoo! i love the way Tara ia all mysterious! love the update!

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Life's a big canvas. Throw all the paint on it you can.

I adore this.

Willow is so cute. As is Tara.

I want to leave really awesome feedback but I'm getting all fangirl-ish by how much I'm loving this.

Can we expect any any time soon?

Love it!

_________________
Amber Benson killed me once.

Check out my finished fics

Love, The Series … Two For Joy/21+/Joy To The World … Inevitable/Infinitely …

Confidential Eternal … A Twisted Date … Dachsund Through The Snow

Lovin' the feedback!!


Laragh--I promise you It takes a little while, but it will happen, and how!

willowtarabuffyfaith--I'm glad you noticed the mysteriousness! I enjoy it too...oooh, what secret is she hiding?!

Firesign--glad you like it!

Ohh. What glorious sweetness from Willow. She seems extra non-wiggy about suddenly feeling so head-over-heels about a girl. Very sort of... wow. About it.. you know?

Now I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that Tara is a slayer. BTW: You called Buffy "the younger slayer" at one point making me think that either Tara is a slayer and when you originally wrote this you were thinking they'd know that already or that Faith is around somewhere and again, you edited and missed that line. Anyway, I'm looking forward to reading more.

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Menorah Tales | Working It Out | Random Bits

JustSkipIt--Thanks for reading so closely, you caught a typo! It should've read "young slayer", I've corrected it, thanks! As for your guess, it's a good one. I will neither confirm nor deny, you'll have to wait till next time!

You know, I have to admit that I’ve never actually seen the episode when the gang gets turned into their Halloween costumes, while there are some great episodes throughout season 1-3 which I have seen, I tend to concentrate on seasons 4-6 for the obvious reason. But now I feel like I don’t have to see that episode, everything summed up nicely at the start of this charming, sweet story.

For a canon-fic, it's important to get the characterisations spot on and they are indeed, exceptionally so. It’s really nice to be drawn into the world of Sunnydale once again. I spend so much time reading and writing AU that it somehow feels fresh and new to go back to canon, where it's Buffy, Xander and Willow and they’re teenagers…with parents.


Understate things much, Will? Hehe.


Cookies in a tube…weird.


Perfect.

Loved the interaction between Willow and Tara and it was even cute when Buffy and Xander joined too…even though they were getting in the way of things.
Great start, thanks for sharing your story with us here as I seldom visit the Pit (ff.net), you just have to wade through too much crap to get to the good stuff. Here on Pens, it’s pretty much all good, so saves the hassle.

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Willow Van Helsing...saving the world since 1777 │ Van Rosenberg II - Lord of Ice and Shadow

Humm —
but "younger"
is apt (in a way)
insomuch as Tara is
always the more mature
person within the core group.

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A
K
E E L A

Hey Alcy, thanks so much for the kind feedback! I'll readily admit I've only watched season 1, part of season 2, a bit of season three, and then seasons 4-6 multiple times. I have tried to avoid the episodes where Willow is with Oz, because they just disturb me. :(

The Halloween episode is a fun one, I'm glad I was able to share it with you!

Thanks for your characterization feedback, I've really focused a lot of attention on their interactions, on the pace and flow of their speech, so I'm glad it's paying off!

Are cookies from a tube weird? There was a time, back in the day, when I would buy a tube of pre-made dough and just sit and eat a spoonful or two. Delicious!

I agree with you, FF.net is a pain in the butt at times. I'm new to the fan fiction world and so I just started looking for places with Buffy. This one is definitely the best.

Much love to all the Kittens!!

True, Akeela. Even when Tara struggles, she's the voice of serenity.

This is AWESOME so far! I'm dead impressed.

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- I am a poster girl with no poster, I am 32 flavours and then some -

Thanks leftindust! Your post was a great way to start the day!

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Wave ... The Wish of Three Hearts
The Yuletide Present ... In From the Cold

"We're in love. We're lovers. We're lesbian, gay-type lovers."

•Title - Wave
• Author name – LonelyTara
• Email Address - 9kodama@gmail.com
• Rating - PG-13, eventually R
• Disclaimer - This is a romantic and angsty AU piece with plenty of adventure (eventually). All things Buffy belong to the Whedon man, Fox, Mutant Enemy, et al. Please don't sue.
• Feedback-Please, please!
• Summary- Wave is a season 2 AU. On Halloween, Willow meets a strange and beautiful blond girl, and becomes determined to find her. When they connect, Willow's life will be changed forever...
• Notes-Thanks to everyone who will read.



Chapter Three: Runaway

The next few weeks were a heady blend of tension and delight for Willow. She spent her days in a fog, struggling to stay focused in class, strolling around school with Buffy and Xander, and researching with them in the afternoons, sure she was wearing a big sign on her head that read, “I like a girl.” In the evenings, after hurried dinners and homework that got done with sighs of frustration, she would go out with Buffy and Xander, never knowing if she’d have a lucky night and get to see Tara, or if she’d end up feeling lonely and frustrated with her friends at the Bronze.

Something that bothered Willow almost as much as missing Tara on the nights she didn’t find her was that Xander seemed nearly as disappointed about it as she was. She wanted to tell him to back off, but how could she? She couldn’t risk losing her best friends if they couldn’t deal. And a darker thought she tried hard to block—what if Tara wouldn’t want him to back off. Sure, on the night they met Tara sang a romantic song, but what if she hadn’t been singing it for Willow? And she watched her, sure, but Willow had just given her a ton of cash. What if she didn’t like Willow that way? What if she wasn’t gay? Willow had more than one nightmare about standing alone at their table in the Bronze while Xander led Tara around the dance floor.

But the worry and the pain of it would vanish every time she saw the blonde-haired girl. She closed her eyes and thought back to the night before. It was warm for a November night, and so they’d sat alone together on the small patio off the back of Zanja Muro, sipping iced coffee and chatting the hours away. The longer they’d talked, the fewer instances of stuttering Tara’d had. Willow finally found the courage to ask her why she didn't stutter when she sang. And for a moment, when Tara didn’t answer, Willow had been afraid she’d hurt the girl’s feelings, but the Tara smiled, and told Willow about her mother.

Tara told Willow how they used to sing together in the car, and in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning, and her mother had noticed that those moments were the only times that her daughter didn’t struggle to speak because of her stutter. She’d researched, and found that music therapy and performance had been shown to help speech impediments like Tara’s, and so she’d taken it upon herself to teach her daughter to play piano, and guitar. Tara’s mother had even taken a second job in the summer to pay for singing lessons for her girl.

Tara had spoken with such gratitude, such love, of the gift of confidence her mother had given her. She admitted to Willow that the only time she really ever stuttered anymore was when she was stressed, or nervous.

“Do I make you nervous?” Willow had asked her then.

“Not in a bad way,” she’d replied, smiling that crooked smile.

Willow opened her eyes, wishing that there were someone she could share these feelings with. It was strange to be so happy and so terrified all at once. Willow Rosenberg wasn’t just gay girl. She was gay girl in love.

“Earth to Will?” Buffy said.

Willow snapped her head up. Buffy was staring at her, holding a French fry poised in front of her mouth. For a moment Willow was afraid she’d been speaking out loud, called herself gay girl in front of her best friend without any warning. The strange look on Buffy’s face went even stranger. Willow opened her mouth to explain, to tell Buffy something, anything, but then the slayer sneezed. The fry went flying.

“Ugh, sorry,” she said, blotting her nose with a napkin. “You okay, Will?”

Willow realized her mouth was still hanging open. “Yeah, I’m fine, Buffy.”

“You’re a little pale.”

“I didn’t sleep too well last night.” It wasn’t a lie. Her dreams were filled with horrible ‘Tara loves Xander’ moments.

“Yeah, but,” Buffy began. She paused and popped a fry in her mouth.

“But what?”

“It’s not just today, Will. You’ve been really distracted lately.”

Willow smoothed down her hair, wishing that her hands wouldn’t shake. “There’s just a lot going on right now. Classes have me really busy and my parents are out of town again at another conference, so I have housework and groceries on top of it all. There’s just a lot going on,” she repeated quietly.

“I get that, it’s just, we always used to talk about that kind of stuff, and it seems like, lately, Tara’s been your go-to girl.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Willow said, forcing a high note of happy confusion into her voice.

Buffy’s face fell. “Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? ‘Cause whatever I did, whatever it is, I’m sorry, Willow.”

“Buffy,” Willow replied, grabbing her friend’s hand. “You didn’t do anything. Why would you think that?”

“We’re supposed to be best friends, Will, but I think there are things you don't tell me about anymore.” Her voice was small when she spoke again. “Is Tara your new BFF?”

“Buffy,” Willow sighed, “You’ll always be my best friend.”

Buffy gave Willow a shaky grin and pulled Willow into a hug.

“Slayer strength,” Willow gasped.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Willow took a deep breath. She had to make Buffy understand. It was bad enough that keeping this secret has caused her such worry and pain, but Willow couldn’t let it hurt her friends, too. “Buffy,” she began, “About Tara—”

“Did I hear someone say Tara?” Xander asked, sprawling down on the bench between Buffy and Willow.

“Hi Xander,” Buffy said drolly. “Nice to see you too.”

“Of course it’s nice to see you guys,” Xander replied, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders. “What’s up?”

“I was being weird and needy girl, and Will was just telling me that she’ll still be my best friend anyway.”

Willow smiled and nodded, but she could feel unshed tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

“I told you that she wasn’t replacing you as a best friend, Buff,” he replied, nudging her.

“Xander!” Buffy cried, going red.

“You told Xander?” Willow asked.

“I needed to talk it through.”

“Hey,” Xander protested. “We’re a best friend trio here, remember? We’re all equal on the confidey-comfort list.” Xander paused. “Unless it’s girl-only stuff. And you know that I mean,” he said darkly.

Buffy giggled. “That’s exactly what I mean,” Willow said. “You talked to Xander?”

“Hah, hah, Willow,” Xander said. “Just keep it up and I’ll tell your mom you want frog-print footie pajamas when she asks me what you want for Hanukkah.”

“You wouldn’t!” Although footie pajamas do have bonus warmth points, Willow thought, then shook her head. No, I am a young woman—footie pajamas are not appropriate. Especially with frogs…


“Low blow, Xander,” Buffy agreed.

“Kidding, I was kidding,” he said, holding up his hands. “But seriously though, if you guys want me to help keep Tara entertained so you can have some bonding time, I am willing to make that ultimate sacrifice.

“Xander!” Willow punched him in the arm.

“Ow, boney. What was that for?”

“I’ve got to go by the computer lab and talk to Ms. Calendar,” Willow said, standing. “I’ll see you guys in the library this afternoon.”

As she walked away she heard Xander ask Buffy what he’d said wrong.

“If you don’t get it there’s no hope of me explaining it to you, Harris,” Buffy replied.

Willow wished that Buffy really understood. She walked away from her two best friends, feeling guilty, like she was pulling herself away from them, but she didn’t know how to stop. The day was bright and beautiful, not a cloud in the sky. There was a breeze, sweet with autumn’s chill, rusting the leaves on the trees. Birds were singing. And Willow just wanted night and moonlight and starlight.

And Tara.

“Maybe I should go after her,” Xander said. He tried to stand, but Buffy put a hand on his shoulder, holding him down.

“That’s probably not a good idea, Xander.”

“Buffy,” Xander whined, “Let go.” He managed to lift his butt off of the bench for a moment, but Buffy slammed him back down again. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re freakishly strong?”

“I’ve heard that once or twice,” Buffy laughed. “I just think you should let Willow have some time, Xander.”

“Are you saying that it’s girl stuff?” Xander asked hopefully. “Stuff where mortal boys should fear to tread?”

“You’re such a boy,” Buffy sighed. She took her hand off Xander’s shoulder and held out her lunch tray. “It’s girl stuff Xander. Now save me from myself and finish these fries.

* * *

Willow was blinded with tears by the time she made it back into the school. The students milling around her, talking and laughing, were just colorful blurs shifting around her. She bumped into a few of those blurs, murmuring soft apologies. She heard Cordelia call her name, followed by whispers and the sharp bray of Harmony’s laughter. Willow held back a sob and broke into a run, wiping at her eyes. She turned around a corner and realized a long, dark block she was heading toward were lockers. Willow gave a little squeal and threw herself to the left, colliding with someone with such force that she was thrown to the floor, air rushing out of her.

“Willow? Are you all right?”

Some girl was talking to her. Willow felt like her tailbone was broken. She lay back on the floor and shook with a sob, staring up at the dirty, paper-wad spattered ceiling. “Just leave me here, please.” Willow said to the air. “I’ll be fine. Maybe someone will trample me and put me out of my misery.” She heard a laugh and wondered which of her classmates was taking so much pleasure in her anguish.

“That bad, huh?”

The blurred person she’d hit leaned over her. Willow could make out a bright splash and dark hair.

“I’m afraid I can’t leave you out here in the hall Ms. Rosenberg, if Principal Snyder found out I’m sure that I’d get in trouble. Besides, how can I leave my favorite student in the hallway to get trampled? It would totally skew the bell curve for my course.”

“Ms. Calendar?” Willow asked, blinking away her tears.

As her vision cleared Willow saw her computer science teacher smiling down at her, black hair tucked behind her ears, curling around her jaw line to frame her face. She was swearing a vibrant red sweater that made her so pale, Willow thought immediately of Snow White. An image of seven dwarves all patterned after different aspects of Giles’ personality popped in Willow’s head. She laughed aloud, but choked as she started to cry again.

“Come on, Willow.” Ms. Calendar murmured.

Willow felt a warm hand grip her wrist, and she allowed Ms. Calendar to help her find her feet. Her teacher led her down the hall into the computer science classroom, which was thankfully empty.

“Now Willow,” Ms. Calendar said, dropping Willow’s wrist and pulling the classroom door closed. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I-I,” Willow couldn’t stop crying. As she watched, her teacher walked around to her desk and rummaged around in a drawer. She came back with a box of tissues.

“Just blow your nose and take a breath,” Ms. Calendar said kindly.

Willow, ever the obedient student, did as her teacher directed, only to repeat the process when she started crying again. After a few minutes she calmed down enough to throw her tissues away and catch her breath. Ms. Calendar just watched, leaning against the edge of her desk. Willow sat down in one of the student desks and then burst up out of it, pacing back and forth near the windows. Still, Ms. Calendar just watched.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Willow asked.

“I think you’re the one that needs to talk. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Yes,” Willow whispered. “No,” she said loudly. “I don’t know.” She rubbed her hands on her face and started to pace again. “I do know, I do.” Willow wrung her hands. “I know.”

“What do you know, Willow?” Ms. Calendar asked kindly.

“That I’m gay,” Willow replied. She felt like she shouted it, but her voice was low, quavering. “I’m gay, there’s a girl I really, really like.” She threw her hands up in the air and paced away from Ms. Calendar. “I love her. I’ve only known her for a little while, but I do, I love her. She’s so beautiful, and kind, and funny, and smart. Oh, and talented. She’s a musician. And my friends might not understand, they might hate me, not want me around anymore. My parents might disown me, or even throw me out of the house.”

She turned back to Ms. Calendar, tears streaking down her face. “My whole life is going to change, forever, and I don’t even know if she’s gay! I care about her so much, I’ve never felt this way before, about anybody, but she might not feel the same way, she might not ever feel the same way.” Willow pressed her hands against her face. “I'm so scared.”

“Willow,” Ms. Calendar said softly. “Look at me.”

Willow didn’t move her hands. She felt a gentle tug on one wrist and relaxed, allowed Ms. Calendar to pull her hands down. The teacher took Willow’s hands in her own.

“Willow, I’m really proud that you felt like you could confide in me. The first thing I want you to know is that it doesn’t change my opinion of you at all. You’re a wonderful girl, very bright and kind. You’re a good person, Willow.”

Willow sobbed and looked down at the floor, shaking. She felt a finger slip under her chin and force her head up. Ms. Calendar smiled when their eyes met again.

“You’re a good person, and anyone who doesn’t believe that is either ignorant, or stupid, do you understand?”

Willow nodded, but she thought of all the people in her life that she cared about, that she loved, who may not love her anymore. She could see the looks so clearly—the disappointment, the disgust. When Ms. Calendar spoke again it was like she was reading Willow’s mind. She pulled Willow into a hug.

“Willow, the people who really know and love you will always love you no matter what. Nothing you could say or do would ever stop those people from loving you. Buffy, Xander, and Giles will still love you.”

Willow dissolved into tears again, pressed her face against her teacher’s shoulder as she wept. Ms. Calendar patted Willow on the back and hummed a soft song. As soon as she’d gained some semblance of control, Willow stepped out of Ms. Calendar’s embrace, clutching her hands together in front of herself.

“So I should tell them?” She asked.

Ms. Calendar smiled. “That’s entirely up to you, Willow. You shouldn’t tell anyone until you feel ready. And I promise that I won’t say anything either.”

“But,” Willow began quietly. “Should, should I tell Tara?”

Ms. Calendar’s smile deepened and she tilted her head. “Is that her name, the girl you like? Tara?”

Willow nodded shyly.

“It’s a lovely name.” She paused. “Willow, let me ask you something.”

“Oh, okay,” Willow stammered.

“Would you want to be friends with Tara even if she didn’t love you?”

“Yes,” Willow could feel a tear slip down her cheek; the thought of Tara not loving her was painful. “Absolutely yes.”

“Then you should be Tara’s friend, Willow.” She turned and walked back to her desk, leaning against it again. “Take the time to get to know her. Get to know her family if you haven’t yet.” She smiled at the young girl kindly. “If there’s any potential for her to feel about you the way you do about her, it will grow through your friendship.”

“But how long will that take?” Willow asked plaintively.

Ms. Calendar gave a little laugh. “How long are you willing to wait?”

Willow thought about Tara, waving as she rolled away in the night on her skateboard. Tara singing to her, asking her if she was afraid to take a chance. Their first night in the coffee shop, swapping tales of goddesses, laughing and happy as they snacked on hummus and drank coffee rich as chocolate. The dozen times they’d been together since then had been increasingly wonderful, hours spent talking, sharing stories, sharing their hopes and dreams and fears, and hours spent in comfortable silences.

“It doesn’t matter if it takes a day, a week, or my whole life, I’ll wait.” Willow replied.

Ms. Calendar’s smile widened. “And there’s my favorite student,” she laughed.

“Ms. Calendar?”

“I admire a keen intellect, Willow, and yours is one of the sharpest I’ve ever encountered. I can always count on you to find your way to the answer eventually.”

“Thanks Ms. Calendar,” Willow chuckled. In a moment she was solemn again. “Really, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Willow. Now, the bell’s about to ring, you’d better head to class, you don’t want to be late. I’ll see you in fifth period, okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded. Willow walked toward the classroom door when Ms. Calendar called her name.

“Remember, any time you need to talk, I’m here.”

“Thank you,” Willow replied. She walked out into the hallway and took a few steps, then leaned against the wall, feeling lightheaded. Not just lightheaded. Light. She’d told the truth, and nothing bad happened. Ms. Calendar didn’t hate her, or think she was a freak. And, when she was ready, she would tell her family and her friends the truth. She would tell Tara. Willow bounced down the hallway toward her next class, feeling light enough to walk on water.

* * *

When the bell rang Xander scooped up the last of Buffy’s fries and crammed them in his mouth.

“E etter go,” he mumbled.

“You’re going to choke if you keep that up,” Buffy replied. “I don’t want to go to class,” she pouted. “Why can’t there be some kind of near-apocalypsey disaster to give me an excuse to skip?”

“Geez, Buff, way to jinx us. I would much prefer doodling my way through class to staving off demonic hordes.”

“Really?” Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow at the now-squirming boy.

“No, not really,” he confessed, “But we should be careful otnay otay empttay ethay atesfay.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Buffy sighed. “But no more pig latin Xander, it makes my brain hurt.”

The pair stood and began strolling toward the building, moving as slowly as possible to maximize their time outdoors.

“No more pig latin, and no more Tara comments,” Xander vowed.

“Really?” Buffy was smirking at him.

“Really. I’m going to back off, play it cool.” Xander laughed. “Besides, with my luck I’d complete my monster trio of giant mantis and Incan mummy with a vampire or something.

Buffy laughed. “Well, she does speak Greek.”

“Latin, Buff.”

“Whatever. Boringese. Plus she’s quiet.”

“And mature,” Xander agreed. “Always a bad sign.”

“Oh yeah,” Buffy said, bursting into giggles now. “Plus we’ve only ever seen her at night.

Suddenly both Xander and Buffy came to a stop, standing in the grass on the edge of the cafeteria patio. Neither of them was laughing anymore. Xander was looking kind of green around the gills.

“Buffy, you don’t think,” Xander began softly.

“No! No way. Tara is too sweet and nice to be a vamp.”

“What about Dead Boy?” Xander asked.

“Xander…Don’t call him that,” Buffy replied.

“I meant Angel,” Xander corrected. “Is he the only vampire with a soul?

“I don’t know,” Buffy said slowly, thinking of the sweet, smiling blonde. “But I guess I better find out. Crap.”

* * *

That afternoon Willow made it to the library before Buffy and Xander, still coasting on the high of coming out to Ms. Calendar. Giles was on the phone at his desk, so she wandered through the stacks, looking for books on myths and music that she could share with Tara.

“Not Orpheus,” Willow murmured, sliding a Greek text back onto the shelf. “Too depressing.” The tale of the musician traveling through the lands of the dead to rescue his doomed love, only to lose her again, it was beautiful, romantic, but far too sad. She wanted to find a happy story to share with her.

Willow searched for a few minutes more, but couldn’t find any tales that truly ended happily. Even Rama and Sita were pulled apart in the end.

“Stupid pessimistic ancient cultures,” Willow grumbled. “I’ll just have to ask Giles.”

The watcher was still on the phone when Willow walked back to his desk. She waited, trying not to fidget as he muttered and mumbled his way through a conversation with some parent who was concerned about uncensored versions of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn being available in the library. Giles kept his cool for a long time and Willow’s resolve started to weaken. She toyed with the end of her shirt, curling and uncurling the fabric over and over again. She jumped when Giles suddenly raised his voice.

“Madam, I don’t know another way I can explain this to you. The works of Mark Twain are American classics and the school board has thankfully ruled that students should have access to them. Instead of being concerned about the contents of my library I would suggest you focus that concern on your daughter, Harmony, who I assure you has never even stepped foot into the library this year, which I suppose rather makes our conversation moot. If there’s nothing else, I’ll say good day.”

Giles slammed his phone into the receiver and pulled off his glasses, cleaning them furiously as he grumbled darkly about needing a better license to drive than to parent.

“Rough day, Giles?” Willow asked.

“What?” Giles put his glasses back on and tucked his handkerchief back into his pocket. “Oh, hello Willow. Nothing too terrible, just a mildly troublesome parent.” He looked around the library. “Are Buffy and Xander late for the research session?”

“They had a test in their last class,” Willow replied.

“Well, that would explain the delay,” he said wryly. “Shall we get started?”

“Actually,” Willow interrupted, twisting her shirt between her fingers and bouncing a bit. “I was wondering if you could help me with something first.”

“Well, of course dear girl. What do you need?”

“I’m looking for a book,” she began.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place for that.”

“Yeah,” Willow said, feeling a blush spread up her neck into her cheeks.

“And the name of the book?”

“That’s just it,” she replied. “I don’t know.”

“Well, that does make finding a particular text considerably more challenging,” Giles said.

Willow laughed. “I’m not sure what book I’m looking for, Giles. I just hoped you’d know of some myth involving music that doesn’t have a sad ending.”

“Myths and music,” Giles said thoughtfully. “Are you, by chance, looking for a story for your new friend, Tara?”

Willow was grateful that she was already blushing. She nodded. “I know odds are I can’t find a story she hasn’t heard before, but she’ll still enjoy it.”

“She sounds like she’s a very knowledgeable girl. It’s a shame she won’t be attending school here. I’d like to meet her.”

“I know,” Willow pouted, joining Giles to stare at the stacks. “She said her parents really feel that homeschooling is the best option.”

“Well, with our school’s mortality rate,” Giles began. He trailed off as Willow lifted her eyebrows at him, smiling. “Yes, well, nevertheless, let’s see if we can’t find something to stump her.”

They hunted through the stacks for a while, finally separating so they could cover more ground. Willow was determined not to give up. Even if she had to be late for the bus and walk home, it would be worth it.

“Willow,” Giles called, bringing her back to the moment. “I think I found just the thing.”

Willow ran down to the end of her stack and found Giles waiting with a slim, peacock blue text in his hands.

“Watcha got?”

“It’s a translation of an old Vedic text,” Giles enthused. “An ancillary codicil to the ancient Indian epic The Mahabharata. It’s a scene where God-on-Earth Krishna describes his special affection for Radha, a young cow-herding woman. If I may?”

“Please,” Willow agreed.

Giles held the volume in one hand and raised the other in classic declamatory style.
“And Krishna spoke unto the gathered masses: Just as all on Earth find comfort and joy in my presence, so too do I find happiness in the presence of Radha. And so I play my flute for her, allow my music to call her to me, so that I may know true happiness. Bliss that I know not when she is absent.”

Willow’s heart sang. She heard Tara’s voice, the night they met, telling Willow she would find her if she followed her music. I hope she knows this myth, Willow thought.

“Wow, this is weird,” Buffy said.

Willow turned her head. Buffy and Xander were standing at the end of the stack, watching them.

“Weird?” Xander asked. “I was thinking really disturbing.”

“Both weird and disturbing,” Buffy agreed. “What’s going on here?”

Willow knew she was blushing crimson-bright. She could only imagine how this must look, Willow and Giles standing closely, alone together in the stacks, while Giles read her poetry.

“Well now, you two,” Giles said sternly, snapping the book shut and handing it to Willow so he could clean his glasses. “Really, I was just helping Willow find a music-related myth to share with her friend, Tara. Such tales are surprisingly difficult to find without some tragic ending. Although,” he said with a bit of a pause, “I suppose it’s probably more romantic than you were intending. Should we keep looking?”

Willow wanted to run from the combined glance of three of the people who were dearest to her in the world. She took a deep breath.

“I think it’s fine, Giles,” she replied slowly, trying to sound casual. “I’m sure Tara will like it.” She held the book to her chest and turned toward Buffy and Xander. Time for distraction tactics. “You two are kinda late. Problems with the test?”

Buffy’s mouth dropped open and Xander immediately dropped his gaze to his shuffling feet.

“No!” Buffy said loudly, throwing up her arms. “No problems with the test, perfectly prepared. Right, Xander?”

“Huh?” He asked.

“The test,” Buffy said, teeth clenched. “Not a problem.”

“No problem with the test,” Xander agreed, nodding quickly.

“Oh yes, much confidence inspired,” Giles drawled.

“So, should we get to researching?” Willow asked happily.

“Research already?” Buffy whined. “My brain still hurts from that test.”

“Be that as it may,” Giles replied. “There’s work to be done, and as Willow noted, we’re a bit behind.” Giles walked toward his desk without a backward glance.

“Traitor,” Buffy told Willow glumly.

Willow’s eyes widened and Buffy threw an arm around her shoulders. “Just kidding, Will. Come on; let’s get to work. If we get enough done, maybe there’ll be time for some fun tonight.”

“Fun?” Xander asked, brightening. “Hard day. Xander need fun.”

“Aw, poor Buffy and Xander. All test-scarred and fun deprived.” Willow barely held back a giggle.

“You know, I don’t think she feels sorry for us at all, Xander,” Buffy said.

“I think you’re right.”

“She must be punished,” Buffy said. Xander nodded.

“Guys?” Willow asked nervously.

“Tickle torture?” Buffy asked?

“It’s the only way,” Xander agreed.

Willow took off down the stack, laughing. “Giles, help!”

“There’ll be no torture in the library,” Giles called primly. “Come on, let’s get started.”

“This day is no fun at all,” Buffy sighed.

* * *

“This has been such a great day,” Willow said, skipping down the sidewalk from streetlight to streetlight, and bouncing in place under each little pool of glow cast as she waited for Xander and Buffy to catch up. “Come on guys!”

Buffy and Xander trudged along being Willow, leaning against one another, clearly wiped from a day that had included teary Willow, tests, and task-master Giles keeping them researching until almost six o’clock.

“What’s the hurry, Will?” Buffy called, pausing to pull the strap up on one of the heels she was wearing.

“Yeah,” Xander said, holding Buffy’s arm to keep her balanced. “You said Tara isn’t going to get to the Bronze until around eight, right?”

“How come you guys aren’t going to Banjo Mural?” Buffy asked. Finally happy with the fit of her shoe, she put her foot down and started walking again.

“It’s Zanja Muro, Buffy,” Willow laughed.

“That’s what I said.”

“Somebody’s having a private party there tonight,” Willow replied. “Besides, Tara’s never been to the Bronze.”

“Never been to the Bronze?” Xander asked.

They’d reached Willow in her little pool of streetlight, so she starting skipping again, laughing. “Xander, she’s only lived here for a few weeks. It’s not really so unlikely that she hasn’t made it there yet.”

“She should be playing there,” Buffy said. “The bands they’ve had lately have been seriously low on the entertainment factor.”

“I asked her about it,” Willow said. “But I think she’s nervous about playing in front of a big crowd.”

“She shouldn’t be,” Buffy replied. “She’s really talented.

“Yeah she’s,” Xander paused when Buffy gave him a look. “She’s good.”

“Yeah,” Willow said happily.

When they made it to the Bronze there was no sign of Tara. Buffy and Xander made a little show of protesting, but Willow was able to convince them to go inside and get some drinks without too much effort on her part. Willow sat under the glow the bar’s sign and people-watched, tensing every time she caught a glimpse of golden hair coming her way.

Eight o’clock came and went, with no appearance from Tara. Willow fought to keep her herself out of panic mode, trying to convince herself that nothing had happened to the blonde girl. She would wait another fifteen minutes. She would stay calm, and levelheaded, for now. But at eight thirty she would have the slayer on the case. Tara, Willow thought. You have to be okay. Five minutes later Tara was still nowhere to be found, and Willow had lost all her resolve to keep it together. She was standing in the street in front of the Bronze, peering down each end of the street in turn, wringing her hands.

She knew she should just go and get Buffy, but she didn’t want her friends to think she was freaking out. “Even though I am clearly freaking out,” she told herself aloud, looking down at the far end of the street, toward the back alley.

“What are you freaking out about?”

Willow let out a loud, piercing scream and spun around, clutching her chest. Tara was standing behind her with her skateboard tucked under one arm, looking horrorstruck.

“I’m s-sorry,” she began.

“Tara!” Willow wanted to hug the girl so badly, but settled for holding up a hand in greeting. “Hi.” Her voice was still breathless. She could feel her heart racing.

“H-hi, Willow. I’m s-sorry I scared you.”

“What?” Will said cheerfully. “You didn't scare me, that was a happy scream.” Willow groaned inwardly and Tara cocked an eyebrow at her, a smile curved her lips. “Okay you scared me,” Willow confessed, giggling. “But it’s okay, because it’s you, and I’m happy that you’re here.”

“Still,” Tara began.

“It’s okay, really. I’m just jumpy. I blame a lack of delicious caffeine.”

Tara laughed, sweet and pealing. “Yeah, once you get used to that Kona stuff it’s hard to go without. I’m s-sorry I was late.”

“You were late?” Willow asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Once again she got the smile and the stare. “Okay, I noticed, but just because I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.”

“Me too, “ Tara replied, and then blushed a little. “S-seeing you, I mean.”

Willow grinned, noticing for the first time that Tara was dressed up. She was wearing a navy long-sleeved tee over a skirt tie-dyed in shades of blue.

“You look really nice,” Willow said.

Tara ducked her head, smiling.

“Do you want to go inside, get a soda?” Willow asked her.

Tara looked up at Willow, then at the door of the Bronze, and back again, biting her lip. “I w-want to,” she began.

“But?” Willow asked.

“But I’m n-not m-much for crowds,” she stammered. Will hadn’t seen her that flustered in a long time.

“Buffy and Xander are inside,” Willow said. “We could just hang with them.”

Tara didn’t look convinced.

“You know what,” Willow continued, “It’s no big deal. Why don’t we stay out here for a while? It’s a nice night. We could stargaze for a bit.”

“Okay,” Tara smiled.

The girls sat on the curb a few feet down from the Bronze. Tara laid her board on the street in front of them, and they played with it, rolling it back and forth between one another. Willow watched Tara as Tara stared up at the sky. As she pushed the board back and forth with the beautiful blonde, she imagined the rough surface of the grip tape was smoothing her fingertips. Willow wished she could reach out and touch Tara—ask her if she was right. They were sitting so close that Willow could see the fine hair curling at Tara’s temples. She could smell the honeysuckle-sweet scent of her.

“So Tara,” Willow squeaked, trying to think friend thoughts. “I was thinking.” Tara turned toward her, smiling, blue eyes bright. Willow froze, amazed how the girl could take her breath away so easily.

“What were you thinking?” Tara asked softly.

I’d really like to kiss you. “I was thinking it would be great to meet your folks. Maybe we could all have dinner with my parents some time, and then they’d let you come over to my house to hang out. You could even spend the night.

Tara’s smile fell and her eyes dropped to the sidewalk. “I don’t think that’s going to work, Willow,” she whispered.

“You don’t want me to meet them?”

Tara shook her head.

Willow felt hollowed out. Tara didn’t want her to meet her family. She didn’t want to come over and hang out. She’d been so worried that Tara didn’t like her romantically, but what if—

“Tara,” Willow said, fighting tears. “Don’t you want to be friends?”

Tara looked up and her eyes were brimming, arms crossed tight across her chest. “Oh not, it’s not that at all, we are f-friends, Willow. Good friends, I hope.”

Willow’s heart started beating again. “Good friends,” Willow agreed. “So how come you don’t want me to meet your folks? Do you think they won’t like me? ‘Cause I’m the champion of parent win-overing, consistently ranked as a good influence.”

Tara tried and failed to smile. Her lip quivered and Willow was startled to see a tear slide down her cheek. “I d-don’t know h-h-how to explain.”

She was in pain, Willow realized. She was causing the girl she loved pain.

“You don't’ have to,” Willow said, clenching her hands in her lap because she wanted to touch Tara so badly. “We can forget I ever brought the stupid idea up. But,” she said, taking a breath, “There’s nothing you can’t tell me, Tara. If you want to talk, I’m here.”

Tara didn’t speak. She took several long, deep breaths. Willow could see she was working hard to try and calm herself.

“You can’t meet my family,” she said, voice barely above a whisper, “Be-c-cause they’re still in Oregon.”

“Still in Oregon?” Willow asked. “So you don’t live with them? Are you staying with an uncle? Your grandparents?”

Tara stared at the ground and slowly shook her head.

“Tara, I don’t understand.”

She looked up at Willow and smiled sadly. “Willow, I ran away.”

END CHAPTER 3

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Wave ... The Wish of Three Hearts
The Yuletide Present ... In From the Cold

"We're in love. We're lovers. We're lesbian, gay-type lovers."

And the fact hit the sack! Gyahahahaha! What next? 'Tara has a demon blood in her' too?

You wrote this wonderfully. Ditto to Ms. Calendar. Take it slow, Will. Get to know her, court her, be her friend. Communication is important aspect in relationship. Rushing is a big no no, drama makes a story unfold beautifully.

I figured it was something like that with Tara. bless the little thing. Giles should adopt her! haha

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- I am a poster girl with no poster, I am 32 flavours and then some -

Aww, poor Tara... (and now I'm concerned she might be a vampire!) but I hope she's not (though I imagine Buffy and Xander trying to figure it out in a 'nonchalant' way will be funny) Great update

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Ripples - Pretty Much Perfect and The Sequel to the Sequel, Who's That Girl?
Every Step That I Retrace/Always Leads Me Back to You/But I've Loved You All Along
Road to Recovery, The Call/The Lightning Strike, The Sun Will Rise

I really hope Tara isn't a vamp :(

I love that you're gonna take this slow, but it's killing me at the same time!

Great update though, loved it.

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Amber Benson killed me once.

Check out my finished fics

Love, The Series … Two For Joy/21+/Joy To The World … Inevitable/Infinitely …

Confidential Eternal … A Twisted Date … Dachsund Through The Snow

perchiper—Thanks so much for reading! I’m really glad you liked my portrayal of Ms. Calendar. I worked really hard on that scene; I wanted to get it just right. While “Wave” definitely isn’t as angst-ridden as my other fic, “The Wish of Three Hearts”, there is definitely some drama to come. Hope you enjoy!

leftindust—Thanks for commenting! ☺ Yeah, as a writer I tend to be pretty sympathetic toward my characters, and with Tara and Willow it’s hard for me to do anything bad to them—they’re so sweet! But, a good story needs conflict, and the moment I imagined Tara rolling down the street on a skateboard past Willow on Halloween I knew she was a runaway. It’s a hard, lonely life, but better than being with those horrible Maclay men.

Leonhart17—In a few chapters I promise you’ll get to see exactly what Xander and Buffy do about that issue. ☺ When do I get my next Road to Recovery? Huh?! Huh?!

Laragh—Thanks for the kind words, I’m really glad that you’re enjoying the fic. I hope you’ll stick with it for the whole ride!

Overall, kittens, I just want to say thanks to everyone who has been reading my fics. It gives me the warm and fuzzies, it really does! And it’s really flattering to have so many excellent writers reading and enjoying my tales!

KB all the way!

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Wave ... The Wish of Three Hearts
The Yuletide Present ... In From the Cold

"We're in love. We're lovers. We're lesbian, gay-type lovers."

That was a GREAT UPDATE!!! I love Willow trying 2 find a music/love/happy ending mytho story 2 share w Tara, and ur totally right its almost impossible to find a mytho that ends happy even slightly happy, the ancients were very depressing. Cant wait for the next update. Looking forward to Willow being honest w her friends and w Tara, and hear Taras story. REALLY LOOKING 4ward to some possible .

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lost in the blue