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Reunion
by Tarawhipped
Rated R
Feedback: Please!
Distribution: Different Colored Pens & Mystic Muse. All others please ask first.
Disclaimer: All things Buffy are the sole property of Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy
Summary: See part one.[br]
Author's note: Big thanks to Car and Watty, who by accident or design nudged me out of my slump. Y'all are the best![br][br][br]
Willow[br][br]
It had been a long time since I had done anything spontaneously. My life was ruled by science: minute details, precise calculations, measured observations. I did not make intuitive leaps without clear evidence to support it, and I did not rush results. I never let my personal biases cloud my judgment, and while I was perfectly willing to listen to reasonable council, there were few people who held any sway over my decision-making.[br]
And yet there I was, sprinting through Sunnydale airport at five minutes to 10:00, clutching my boarding pass like I was Charlie Bucket with the golden ticket. I even had a security escort…one of the half dozen employees who’d borne witness to my hysterical near-meltdown at the ticket counter. I’m sure the cheerfully caffeinated young man there had thought me a terrorist, the way I’d rushed up and demanded a one way ticket to Boston, and no I didn’t have any luggage, thank you. Security had shown up surprisingly fast, but once I started spilling my guts about the love of my life being on that plane, and how fifteen years was long enough, but an extra week was unimaginable now that we had finally found each other…well, thank god for hopeless romantics.[br]
Speaking of…who’d have thought my mom of all people was one of them? You know that moment when you suddenly realize your parents are real people with the same shortcomings as everyone else, and not the Superparents you always judged them negatively against? Well, I’d had that. Years ago. I’d long forgiven their style of parenting in my own patronizingly gracious way…but I still never saw them as individuals distinct from their relationship to me, and each other.[br]
When I’d arrived for dinner, we’d started down the usual road of pleasantries, which of course included the “and how is Benjamin?” question. I threw mom for a lil’ loop when I replaced the anticipated “fine” for the truth. Well…it was actually “fine” and the truth. The look on Tara’s face when I’d called her made me feel brave enough to withstand the lecture I expected.[br]
Turns out I was the one who got shocked. Not only was she not disappointed, mom didn’t even seem all that surprised. And after literally years of hearing “so when am I getting a grandchild?” she followed up her non-shock by saying “oh, I’m so glad you never had kids.” Of course, after years of insisting I didn’t want any, I was suddenly very defensive about the untapped potential of my child-rearing abilities.[br][br]
[blockquote]“I have no doubt, honey, I just meant that it would make a divorce more difficult.”[br]
“Oh, well…I guess. Though I still wouldn’t change my mind..”[br]
“I’m just glad you don’t have to make that decision.”[/blockquote][br][br]
There was something in the way she’d said it—some hesitation that I never associated with Sheila Rosenberg—that made me stop and really look at her. Even when she was physically absent, she’d always been a presence in my childhood. She’d always seemed so big and solid and confident, and now she looked smaller…and not old, really, but tired. Exhausted, even…like she’d driven non-stop across the country, alone. And then it hit me.[br][br]
[blockquote]“Did…did you do that? Stay with dad because of me?”[br]
“Oh honey.”[br]
“Really, it’s okay either way. I just want to know.”[br]
“We thought it was for the best.”[/blockquote][br][br]
It was hard to swallow my anger, but I did. I could have gone all petulant and sarcastic about the fact that while they were ‘staying together for the kid,’ I was growing up on my own since they were never there. I’d always thought that on the rare occasions they were both at home the house seemed decidedly chilly, but considering that Xander’s parents were my only other example, I never though much of it.[br]
I excused myself to go to the bathroom, and when I came back the anger was gone, replaced by a sadness for what they’d done…the life they’d lived and the potentially happier ones they’d sacrificed.[br][br]
[blockquote]“If you had it to do over again, would you have gotten divorced?”[br]
“I don’t know.”[br]
“Was there ever anyone else?”[/blockquote][br][br]
That had earned me the stern look I was used to…and the question thrown back at me.[br][br]
[blockquote]“Do you have someone else?”[br]
“You remember Tara?”[br]
“I didn’t think you’d stayed in touch with her.”[br]
“I didn’t. We ran into each other at the reunion and…oh mom, I made such a mistake. I was so stupid, and then getting married…”[br]
“Why did you marry? I must admit your father and I were both surprised.”[br]
“I don’t know. I thought it would be easier, and that you’d be happy.”[br]
“Willow Danielle Rosenberg, are you telling me that you married Benjamin to please me?”[br]
“Not exactly. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”[br]
“Oh, my darling girl. Don’t you know that you make your father and I happy? That we couldn’t be more proud?”[br]
“Really?”[br]
“Really. All I ever wanted was for you to do what made you happy. Yes, I was pleased when you got over that silly crush on the Harris boy, but—”[br]
“Wait, what did you say?”[br]
“Honestly, Willow, I know you liked him—”[br]
“No, before that.”[br]
“Do what makes you happy?”[/blockquote][br][br]
The next thing I knew I was pouring out my heart, and then we were in the car, mom driving faster than I’d ever seen her, and laughing! Me and mom, laughing like lunatics as we raced to the airport. We didn’t even stop by the hotel. I called to let them know there was an emergency and my mom would be by tomorrow to pick up my things and check out. She promised to overnight express me my laptop and briefcase, and ship my suitcase when she got back from Seattle. The hug we shared in the airport departures lane was the closest I’d felt to her in years, and we promised to visit soon and talk sooner.[br]
Finding the correct airline was easy. There was only one redeye flight to Boston left for the night, and I actually whooped when I found out I could still get a seat. Not knowing where Tara was sitting, I bought a first class ticket. I was the last one on the plane, and though I craned my neck all through the pre-flight instructions, I couldn’t see her. The second the seatbelt sign went off with a ding, I was out of my chair like a shot.[br]
I found her in aisle 17, and while her eyes were closed, I could tell from her breathing that she wasn’t yet asleep. I had a moment of fear, wondering if I would look like a crazy stalker, but remembering that she’d entered her number in my phone under ‘yours,’ I figured ‘the hell with it.’[br]
“Is this seat taken?”[br]
Her eyes flew open, and she sat there staring at me so long I started to rethink the whole stalker possibility.[br]
“Um…am I asleep?”[br]
I shook my head and held out my hand for her inspection. She looked at it blankly for a minute, then reached out to poke at it gingerly, a grin spoiling her otherwise convincing display of doubt. I was smiling dopily, stuck on the idea that she thought she was sleeping…since that could only mean that I was dream-worthy.[br]
“So, uh…the seat?” I asked again, pointing with the hand she wasn’t currently holding to the space next to her, which was occupied by a gardening magazine. She frowned down at it, swept it onto the floor with her free hand, and pulled me out of the aisle. I flopped down gracelessly into the middle seat with an “oof!”[br]
“How did you…what about your mom…dinner?”[br]
“Dinner was great, and Sheila says hi.”[br]
I launched into the story of my surprising evening. When I told her how I’d had half the Sunnydale airport rushing to get me on the plane, she giggled along with me. By the time I got to looking for her on the plane, she had shifted sideways, her left leg curled under her right knee, her head resting against the back of the seat. She was looking at me so intently I nearly felt the need to ask if I had something on my face.[br]
“Tara…is it okay? That I did this, I mean.”[br]
“It’s more than okay. God, the thought of waiting another week to see you…” she shook her head.[br]
“Sucked! I know!” I agreed heartily, grinning ear-to-ear. I realized that at some point in my story, she had lifted the armrest that separated us and pushed it back between the seats. Her left knee was pressed lightly against my right thigh, and our joined hands were resting at the junction. Suddenly all my senses seemed narrowed down to the points where we touched. “I just don’t want to seem all stalkery…or crowd you. I know you weren’t expecting this.”[br]
She ducked her head then, and bit her bottom lip as she looked up at me through her lashes.[br]
“I have a confession to make. Ever since the cookout I um, I was thinking about rescheduling my Friday appointments and flying back out to spend the weekend with you in Sunnydale.”[br]
Oh my heart did a quadruple somersault at that.[br]
“Well now you don’t have to. Technically I’m still on vacation, so you’ve got me all week. If you want,” I added, not wanting to be so presumptuous of her time.[br]
“I want,” she stated firmly. “My last patient tomorrow is at 1:00. We could go for a walk in the Fens and have dinner?”[br]
“I’d love that,” I said. I had in mind a dozen restaurant ideas to discuss when she yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and shooting me an apologetic glance. “You should get some sleep; we can make plans later. I’m actually kinda tired myself.”[br]
She yawned again and nodded, uncurling her legs. I glanced to my left, where I could see people taking advantage of the half-empty plane to lie across entire rows of seats. I looked back to see her following my gaze, but she made no move to extricate her hand from mine, and I was not-so-secretly pleased to know that she didn’t want me to move. Still, I figured I could make her more comfortable, and I raised the armrest to my left and scooted over to the aisle seat.[br]
“So you can stretch out,” I explained to her unspoken question. I expected her to let go of my hand and use my lap as a footrest. Instead, she followed me, and as I sat there watching her, she brought her right hand up to cheek. My eyes closed of their own volition at the first touch of her fingers caressing my skin, but she waited until I opened them again to move closer. She did so slowly, her eyes locked with mine, and I knew she was looking for a sign that I didn’t want it.[br]
As if that was even a possibility! I’d never wanted anything so badly in my life. My throat felt constricted with need, and while it was neither oxygen nor water I craved, I still sucked in a hiss of air as I parted my lips, wetting them with the tip of my tongue as I exhaled. The next breath I took was Tara’s as her lips met mine.[br]
Okay, I know that it’s silly to say I felt like I was flying when we were in fact flying, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if we’d floated out of our seats and bonked our heads on the overhead compartment. As much as I felt an almost overwhelming physical need to push her down and ravish her right there, I instead focused all that pent-up desire into pouring out my heart through our merged lips and mingling tongues. I was woozy when we finally separated minutes later, both giggling covertly as the flight attendant passed by with the drink cart.[br]
“I feel like a teenager making out in a movie theater,” I whispered.[br]
“Mmm…remember when we saw The Perfect Storm?” she asked.[br]
“No,” I said after a moment of wracking my brain.[br]
“Exactly,” she purred, a decidedly naughty smirk on her face. She kissed me again, and the memory of countless hours spent not seeing films with her came flooding back to me.[br]
“Ocean’s Seventeen is opening on Friday, and there’s a theater near my house,” I suggested.[br]
“It’s a date,” she replied, groaning as she tried unsuccessfully to stifle another yawn.[br]
“Okay, you should really sleep,” I insisted, kissing away the resulting pout. She acquiesced and lay down with her head on my lap, her legs curled up on the seats next to us. I knew I could spend the entire flight stroking her hair and watching her sleep, but in the quiet of the airplane my eyes grew heavy. The flight attendant reached our row and softly asked if I wanted a beverage. I shook my head and smiled. “I have everything I need.”[br][br]
TBC[br][br][br]
_________________ "I hate fairies! They're like little slutty bug monsters!" -- Angela
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Hi Cam!
I love the fact that the story is in character POV, so that we know every emotion both Willow and Tara are feeling. I also like that the POV's are swicthed. It's a beautful story. So please update. Cant wait!
Akyire
for an update soooonn Pllllleeeeaaaasssseee
The emotional roller coaster ride is over, and it’s all happy fluffy love from here on out. Thanks.[br]
:
), and this one has a very original start. Maybe "had", since we're not in the beginning anymore, but still, this idea of reunion is new to me. At first I thought it would be difficult for them to reconnect after all those years, but you did it very well. It just happened...naturally.