Finally finished! But first, some thanks are in order . . .
A-Rob:
Quote:
*finds the parody club* I'm never ever listening to this song again without laughing, I can just see people staring at me like I'm crazy. Bad Foo and Irene!
Anytime you want to pitch in your musical two cents feel free!
edgyqueen: I'm so glad you're enjoying it! You know, the story came about when I was making a "Willow and Tara" playlist on my computer. I'm glad you like the music I've chosen!
the hero factor: Well, see below for updatey goodness! Thanks for reading!
Author: Foomatic
Title: She's Got A Way
Summary: Ever wonder what really happened in "The 'I' in Team"? This one's a two parter! Play the song if you've got it!
Disclaimer:Don't own anything but the shirt off my back
Feedback: I have to admit, this was the hardest part to write, hence the big gap in updates. Please, let me know what you think, good or bad. I wrote and re-wrote so many times that major self-consciousness is setting in, so any criticisms you can give me would be greatly appreciated. And sorry for any typos or mistakes.
SHE’S GOT A WAY
Part V: Witchcraft
Willow fumbled for something to say. She couldn’t bear the look of disappointment on Tara’s face when she had refused the doll’s eye crystal. “But if you wanted to try out some spells with it sometime, I wouldn’t say no,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.
“Maybe tonight!” Tara replied eagerly. “I mean, if you’re not doing something, you could . . . come over . . . and we could . . . do something.” She smiled enthusiastically.
“Tonight? That sounds really nice . . . but tonight I, uh, already have plans with people. Other.”
“Oh,” Tara dropped her head, wanting to disappear into the crystal she held in her hand. “Um, that’s okay,” she said as she laughed nervously, trying hard not to show her disappointment. She knew she was over exaggerating the situation, but . . .
She’s never said no before. “Another t-t-time-“
“Absolutely!” Willow interjected, feeling an overwhelming need to rectify the moment. “It’s just . . . tonight it’s kind of a specific crowd. You might feel out of place.”
Tara brushed the comment aside. She was being selfish, she knew that. Willow had every right to hang out with anyone she wanted to. Would it kill her to spend one night away from the red head?
Probably, she thought to herself. “I’d better get to class.” She got up and grabbed her books from the table.
“Well, um, I’ll see you later, okay?”
Tara nodded her head, and quickly walked out of the common room, not wanting Willow to see tears that were about to tumble onto her face.
“Tara! Tara, wait!”
The blonde quickly dabbed at her cheeks and took a deep breathe before turning to see who was calling her. “Hey Alanna, w-what’s up?”
“Alexis told me you weren’t coming to the Bacchanal tonight! Is that true?”
“Well, yeah . . . I was going to-“
“Aw c’mon, we need you there! If it weren’t for you the whole damn thing would have fallen apart!” She reached into her backpack, and handed Tara an envelope. “Here. Just in case you decide to come. And there’s an extra ticket if you want to bring a friend too.”
“I don’t know Alanna . . .”
“Tara, trust me. It’ll be lots of fun, and the whole group will be there. We’d like you to be there.” Then, her voice lowering, she said shyly, “I’d like you to be there.” Her tone of voice confused Tara, and she looked at her strangely. The woman just smiled.
The blonde considered the idea for a moment. She could either stay home and mope all night because Willow had other friends, or she could go out, have some fun, and make new friends of her own. “You know what? I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”
Alanna burst with excitement. “Wonderful!” She leaned in and gave Tara a big hug, which Tara was not prepared for. “You’re going to have such a great time, I promise!” With that she bounded down the hall.
It’ll be good for you, the blonde thought to herself. She sighed.
At this point I’ll do anything to get my mind off Willow, even go to – dare I say it – a social event.
Goddess help me.
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Willow watched as Tara took off down the hall. She knew she had hurt her feelings, not once, but twice. Mentally berating herself, she picked up her bag to leave, when she noticed that a woman with curly red hair had stopped Tara and was talking to her. Willow recognized her from the Wicca group.
She has red hair . . . That’s . . . that’s her? Willow’s heart plunged as she watched the two women exchange words.
That must be the girl she wants to ask out. Wait, it looks like . . . the other girl’s doing the asking? She watched as the girl handed Tara an envelope.
Did she say yes? A big smile graced Tara’s face as she nodded her head.
That would be affirmative. The woman gave Tara a lingering hug, and Willow had finally had enough. She turned her head, not wanting to see any more. An emptiness filled her, and she felt a pain in her chest, much like the one she felt when Oz left.
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Willow walked down the hall towards Tara’s room, trying to decide if this was a good idea. The Bronze had been a bust, unfortunately. Willow had hoped to get Tara off her mind, but with Buffy’s sudden departure and Xander and Anya’s indifference, it was not meant to be.
Willow began to nervously fidget with her hands as she neared Tara’s door. Seeing the blonde with her mystery woman this afternoon had Willow reevaluating her already muddled feelings. Deep in her heart, she knew that what she felt for Tara was beginning to exceed platonic boundaries. The constant thoughts about her, the need to see her and be with her . . . it all weighed heavily on her mind. And that was just the mental part. Her body, it seemed, had a mind of its own. Willow had relished in the tingling sensation that came with touching the blonde, but now it seemed that touching was no longer necessary; she could feel it the minute the blonde walked into the room. It was usually accompanied by a few heart palpitations and the occasional sweaty palms, but most notably, a momentary loss of speech, which, for someone who babbled as incessantly as she did, was highly unusual.
But all that didn’t matter now. Tara had eyes for someone else.
Stupid red headed bimbo, Willow thought as she stood in front of Tara’s dorm. She hesitated before knocking.
Tara opened the door, and was shocked to see Willow standing in the hallway. “Willow?”
The red head smiled sheepishly. “A funny thing happened with my prior social engagement. Pretty much ended when a friend of mine went off to do something with another crowd she hangs out with. Irony is kind of ironic that way.” Willow looked down at her feet, feeling a bout of shyness coming on. “Anyway, I know it’s late, but I-I thought maybe– I mean, if you still wanted to . . . do something?” Tara gave her a lop-sided grin, opening the door wider to let her in.
“So,” Willow began, stepping inside, feeling a little more hopeful, “is there anything in particular you want to do tonight? We could try some spells with the doll’s eye crystal if you want.”
“A-actually, I was getting ready to go the Bacchanal.”
Willow froze. “The Bacchanal? Wait, that’s tonight?!” she blurted, feeling the panic rise to her chest.
“Yeah,” Tara replied, surprised by Willow’s reaction. “I wasn’t planning on going, but at the last minute one of the girls from the Wicca group asked me and since I didn’t have anything to do tonight . . .” the blonde trailed off.
Willow, feeling suddenly embarrassed, looked down at the floor. “I-I shouldn’t have come over. I can go.” She made a beeline to the door.
“Willow wait!” Tara’s voice stopped her from leaping out into the hallway. “You just got here! Don’t go now,”
the blonde pleaded. “It doesn’t start until midnight.” Her thoughts drifted to the conversation they had the previous evening.
I think you should really ask that girl out, the red head had told her.
You know, the one you were talking about? “Do you . . . do you want to go? I-I-I have an extra ticket.”
“But I thought you were going with one of the girls from the Wicca group?” Willow asked, wondering why in the world Tara wanted her there, considering it was a date.
Maybe she’s nervous and needs moral support?
“I’m supposed to meet her there.” She noticed that the red head looked uncomfortable. “Willow?”
With considerable uncertainty, “Are you sure you want me to come tonight? I mean, I don’t exactly have the best reputation when it comes those girls. And I know you’re on a-”
“Willow!” Tara pleaded, not waiting for her to finish her statement. “C’mon, they’re not like that.” She paused. “Well, at least some of them.” She eyed Willow, who looked like she needed more convincing. “They’re my friends Will, and I’d really l-l-l-like them to meet you.”
Willow suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. “Oh Tara, now I feel like a big putz!” she cried. “A couple of hours ago I was blowing you off to hang out with other friends . . . who, in turn, blew me off . . . and didn’t think to invite you cause I was worried it would be weird, you know . . .you with them and . . . them . . . with you . . . but here you are, all with the introducing me to your friends and now I feel like a really big insensitive spaz since I didn’t want to invite you with me but . . . “ She sputtered, trying to find the right words. “But only cause I kinda like it just the two of us . . . you and me.” She took a breath, then whispered, ”It’s kinda . . . special . . . like that.”
Tara was speechless. “I l-like spending time too, you know, just the two of us,” she replied quietly.
“But I can make it up to you by going to the Bacchanal!” Willow said hopefully. “I mean, that is, if I’m allowed to make up for it?”
Twenty minutes later, the pair was making their way to the student center.
“You know, the bacchanal didn’t start off as drunken orgies, as you so eloquently put it,” Tara explained as they walked across the quad. “That didn’t happen until they started letting the men in.”
“Typical. So what was it like in the beginning?”
“No one really knows. The Bacchanal was solely a women centered celebration when it first began. The theory goes that since women were slaves in ancient Rome, the Bacchanal was a way for them to sort of express themselves, what with the being constantly repressed and all. It gave them the freedom to do what they wanted. What they do know is that it involved a type of initiation ceremony that lasted ten days. It began with a sort of cleansing ritual, you know fasting, abstaining from s-sex, that sort of thing. On the last day they were lead to the sanctuary, otherwise known as the Bacchanal, and from there, people have their own ideas about what happened.”
“So it was a celebration of women huh? Kinda like the first Lilith Fair.” Tara chuckled. “So then how did it become this massive sexcapade?”
“Well, one of the ideas is that once in the sanctuary, the women expressed themselves in a sort of . . . erotic . . . kind of way. And you know men, always wanting to be in on some g-g-girl on girl action. So they got someone to make the ceremony co-ed, and it was pretty much down hill from there.”
Willow was impressed by the blonde’s knowledge of the subject. “Someone was paying attention in her Women’s Studies class,” she teased.
“Well, not really. I did the research for the decorations. That’s how I found out about it. Pretty interesting stuff.” They neared the student center, and the loud music booming from inside suggested that the party was in full swing. The entrance was crowded with people waiting to get in, some dressed in togas. Willow gave Tara a questioning look.
“Don’t worry, they’re optional.”
“Good, cause mine is at the dry cleaners.” She smiled and was about to say something when a woman came rushing out of the building towards them.
“Tara! You came!” Willow remembered the curly red hair and recognized her as the woman from this afternoon. She felt her body begin to tense as they greeted each other with a hug.
“Alanna, you remember Willow, right?”
“Of course!” She looked a little put off at the sight of Willow, but managed a smile before extending her hand. “How’s it going?”
“Great. Wonderful. Time of my life, really,” Willow replied curtly.
Okay, drop the jealous non-lover act. You’re here for Tara. She softened her tone. “This is quite the shindig you have going here.”
“Wait until you see the inside. Tara worked magic in there!”
“Well, not in the literal sense,” Tara replied, blushing from the flattery, glancing at Willow. She noticed that something seemed off about the red head.
“So shall we?” Alanna asked, grabbing Tara’s hand and practically dragging her inside. Willow felt her insides clench. Taking a deep breath, she followed them.
The room was crowded with people. Large garlands hung from the walls, accentuating the purple and silver cloths that were draped from the ceiling. The stage was decorated with huge foam pillars and a sign that read “Bacchanal 2000.” A band was playing a loud rock song, much to the delight of the people writhing on the dance floor. Willow had fallen behind, and lost track of Tara and Alanna. She weaved through the crowd, until she finally caught sight of them sitting down at a table across from the dance floor.
“Sorry,” she said, rather breathlessly, joining them at the table. “I kinda got swallowed out there.”
“This is such a great turn out, Alanna!” Tara yelled above the music. “I honestly didn’t think that there would be this many people here.”
“I know, isn’t it cool? You guys want a drink?”
“Sure!”
Alanna gestured at Willow. “How about you? What’ll it be?”
“Oh, that’s okay.”
“You sure?” Willow nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”
“So what do you think?” inquired Tara, leaning into Willow’s ear.
Once again, Willow was cut off before she could say anything.
“Tara, you’re here!” Willow suddenly found herself surrounded by six girls, all of whom she recognized from the Wicca group.
“Hi!” The blonde smiled and greeted each girl warmly. “Guys, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.” The blonde put her hand on the back of Willow’s chair. “This is Willow,” Tara announced proudly. There was such a flurry of ‘hi’s’ and ‘how are you’s’ that Willow didn’t catch any of their names, so she did what any normal person would do in this situation. She smiled and nodded. For the better part of five minutes, she smiled and nodded as they chatted about the Bacchanal. Her mood had lightened considerably, until Alanna finally came back with their drinks.
“Here you go, Tara,” she said, handing the blonde a red plastic cup. She sat down in an empty seat next to Tara, Willow eyeing her every move.
“What’s in this drink?” Tara asked after taking a sip, slightly grimacing as she put the cup down. “Is there alcohol in it? It tastes kinda funny.”
“Oh, sorry, did you not want alcohol in it? I wasn’t quite sure what you wanted.”
“That’s okay, I just . . . I don’t usually . . . drink this stuff.” Tara smiled timidly, stealing a peak at Willow. “You want some?” she asked the red head, offering her the cup.
“Oh no no, alcohol and me equals bad bad things.” She chuckled half-heartedly and shook her head.
“I can get you something else-” Alanna offered, getting ready to stand up,
“Th-that’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Alanna leaned in and whispered something in the blonde’s ear, to which Tara responded by laughing and squeezing the girl’s arm affectionately. The other girls had gotten up and were making their way to the dance floor.
Willow quickly averted her eyes, looking around the room, trying to find anything she could focus her attention on.
I should have just gone home, she thought sadly. Behind her, she heard Tara laugh again. Willow wanted nothing more than to shut it out, hating the way it made her feel knowing that someone else had the full attention of the blonde.
“Hey, you guys wanna dance? This is a good song.” Alanna stood up and motioned for the two wiccas to do the same. Tara gamely stood up, but was disappointed when Willow hadn’t budged.
“Willow, you coming?”
“Ah, no, sorry. My dancing skills are pretty much limited to the running man and the macarena, of which I only perform for people who are blind, so . . . Go. I’ll just watch.”
“O-okay.” Trying to hide her dismay, Tara turned to join Alanna, who was already cutting the rug with the rest of the Wicca group on the dance floor. She looked over her shoulder at Willow, who smiled and gave an encouraging wave from the table. Alanna appeared at her side, doing what Tara could only describe as the funky chicken having a seizure. Stifling a giggle, she let her body sway to the music, occasionally glancing at the red head.
Okay, so now their dancing, er . . . Tara’s dancing, not quite sure what Alanna’s doing, Willow thought watching from her spot by the table.
Hey, Tara’s got some moves . . . Wait wait wait, oh no she isn’t! Willow leaned forward, watching Alanna slink closer to the blonde, trying to engage her in the bump. Willow watched on, feeling her body tense again. Her breathing was becoming irregular with every bump of their hips. Feeling her mouth suddenly go dry, she grabbed Tara’s drink and took a swig.
Oh Goddess! What is this, gasoline? She looked up, only to be greeted with the sight of Alanna with her hands on Tara’s hips. Willow quickly pounded the rest of the drink.
Whoa, hands! Tara jumped at the contact. She was thrown by the woman’s sudden boldness, and tried to discreetly dance out of her grasp, hoping that Willow wasn’t looking. She looked at the red head just in time to see her finish off the drink at the table and slam the cup down, making a disgusted face as the alcohol worked its magic on her taste buds.
Again with the hands! And-and boobs on my back! Boobs on my back! Tara quickly turned, removing the hands from her hip as she came face to face with Alanna. “I-I-I’m going to check on Willow,” she yelled over the music, desperate to get away from discomfort of this red head in favor of the company of the other red head. She made a mad dash to the table, leaving Alanna on the dance floor, a dejected look on her face.
“Hey!” she said over the music as she nudged the redhead with her elbow. Willow turned, and gave the blonde a lackluster smile. Tara immediately knew something was up; she had never seen such a distant look in Willow’s eyes before. Her whole demeanor - the slouched shoulders, head hanging down, and the fact that she had barely said anything the entire evening - worried the blonde. She sat down next to her. “I’m really glad you’re here, Will,” she said into her ear as she reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. Looking at the empty red cup, she added, “Thought you didn’t want any.”
“Oh, sorry,” she replied, blushing. “I got kinda thirsty and seeing as you didn’t want it I went ahead and-“ she reached for the cup, looking inside “- sucked it bone dry.” She gave the blonde a sheepish look.
“Hey, everything okay here?” Alanna came bounding back to the table, placing a hand on Tara’s shoulder. The blonde instantly shrank from the touch, feeling increasingly more uncomfortable with Alanna’s presence. Alanna frowned slightly, before reaching for the empty cup. “I thought you said you didn’t drink?” she questioned the blonde with a sly smile.
“Oh, no, um, actually Willow finished it off.” A look of alarm crossed Alanna’s face.
“She . . . drank it . . . all of it?” she sputtered, eyebrows raised. The two women stared at her, confused at the panic in her voice. Alanna began to squirm in front of them, smiling nervously. “I just . . . I would have gotten you your own, um, Willow, if I k-knew you were thirsty.” She swallowed. “I’m . . . I’m going to check on Alexis, see if she needs help.” She turned and hastily walked away.
Willow looked at Tara, and hesitated before speaking. “So . . . she was getting kinda cozy with you out there on the dance floor.”
Tara felt her cheeks reddened. “Y-y-yeah. I’m . . . I’m not used to that k-kind of attention, it was . . . actually, it was quite awkward.”
“She seems to really like you though.” Willow replied, trying to be encouraging. “I can see why, cause hello . . . you? All with the hotness. An amazingly gorgeous blonde with stunning blue eyes.” She leaned in closer, as if to tell a secret, and placed her hand on Tara’s thigh. “You know, sometimes when you look at me, I get fluffies in my stomach!” She flashed the blonde a goofy grin. “This is true. And what do ya know? It’s happening right now, and oh my God did I just say that out loud?!” Her eyes widened in horror.
Tara thought she was going to fall out of her chair. “I give you fluffies?”
“No! Yes! I mean . . .” Her brain was doing back flips, trying to figure out a way to cover her slip. “I meant to say that you look good tonight. Not to imply that you don’t look good all the time, in fact . . . I find you very attractive most days, especially when you do that thing with your mouth, the kinda sexy half smile? And now I’ve completely embarrassed myself so please excuse me as I die a slow death while you stare at me like I have three heads.”
Tara just stared, slack jawed, at the red head. Willow’s blubbering, the hand on her thigh . . . both had pretty much rendered the blonde speechless. As Tara tried to sort it out in her mind, Willow’s hand jerked suddenly from Tara’s thigh. The blonde quickly looked up at the red head.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean . . . to be all . . . touchy with your leg!” Her cheeks rivaled the color of her hair, and she quickly clasped her hands together and plunked them on her lap.
“It’s okay,” replied Tara, unsure of what was going on.
This is new . . .
They sat in silence, each trying to get over the awkwardness of the situation. Tara looked at Willow nervously. The red head was staring off into the dance floor, a frustrated look on her face, hands squirming under the table.
“Willow?”
She practically jumped out of her skin at the sound of her name. “What?”
“Are you feeling okay? D-did you want to go?”
“Oh, no, that’s alright! We can stay. I’m just . . . I shouldn’t have had that drink,” She picked up her empty red cup and shook it for emphasis, letting out a skittish chuckle. There was a slight pause. “Your friends seem really nice,” she offered, trying to the subject.
“Yeah,” Tara eyed the red head warily. “I’ve only gotten to know them better recently, cause of the planning and stuff.” Willow nodded, forcing a smile. Tara felt the tension between them ease up a little, and continued. “Rachael’s a bio major, she’s really cool, and Janine is a singer in a jazz band . . .” She began describing each of the girls in detail, pointing them out on the dance floor.
Willow put on her best active listening face, trying to put that last mouth fart of a babble behind her. Tara rattled on, and Willow found herself doing less listening and more looking, mesmerized by Tara’s eyes sparkling under the lights of the dance floor . . . the way she coyly brushed her hair behind her ears . . .
She’s doing that half-smile thing again . . . Her eyes slowly traveled from the blonde’s lips down to her neck, before resting on her chest. Willow licked her lips, unconsciously leaning forward and placing her arm on the back of Tara’s chair.
“- and Esther’s on the university field hockey team – “ Tara stopped abruptly when she turned and found Willow sitting much closer to her, her face inches away from hers. The blonde quickly dropped her eyes. She felt a hand cup her chin, slowly lifting her face. Her eyes met Willow’s.
“Why do you do that?” the red head murmured. “I can’t admire your face if you stare at you lap. Unless your lap is that much more interesting?” Willow cocked her head, peeking below the table. “I think I’m more alluring than the print on your pants, Tara,” she whispered playfully.
Tara swallowed. This wasn’t right; this wasn’t the Willow she knew.
What is she doing?! She felt hot fingertips creeping up the back of her neck as green eyes bored into hers, and Tara could not look away. She could feel Willow inching closer, head tilted to one side and mouth slightly open, eyes pleading with her to close the gap between their lips. Tara froze, her body and mind in full combat, unsure of what she should do. “Willow, what-“
The table lurched suddenly, and was immediately followed by the clatter of a chair falling to the floor. Tara snapped her eyes open to see Willow standing with a bewildered look on her face. The red head was in full panic mode, moving about erratically, not knowing what to do with herself. She picked up the chair, paced behind it a few times before sitting down. Tara watched, utterly confused.
“Willow?”
“Bathroom!” she squealed, jumping back to her feet. “I got . . . I have to go to the bathroom!” She turned and quickly walked away. Halfway away across the room, she turned around and sidled back to the table, cheeks blazing. “Um, where’s the bathroom?”
Tara sat at the table, watching Willow as she practically sprinted away. To say she was confused was an understatement. Her brain was in over drive, trying to figure out what exactly was going on; the babbling, the intense staring . . . nothing made sense. And then the sudden exit . . . Tara felt like her head was going to explode.
“Tara?” The blonde quickly looked up to find Alanna standing at next to the table.
“Oh, hey, there you are,” Tara replied, trying to sound normal. Alanna hesitated before she sat down.
“Everything okay with Willow?” she asked nervously. “I saw what happened when I was walking over here.”
“Oh.” Tara began to blush profusely. “She’s okay . . . I think.” She glanced in the direction of the bathroom.
“You two aren’t . . . together? Cause it looked like . . . from where I was standing -”
“No!” Tara shook her head. “No, no we’re not together . . . j-just friends. But I have to admit, she is acting a little weird -” the empty plastic cup caught her eye “- ever since she drank this. I don’t think she’s drunk though, cause -”
“Tara.” Alanna’s demeanor changed suddenly, and the expression on her face worried the blonde.
“Yeah?” Alanna was obviously distressed by something judging by the way she was wringing the life out of the napkin in her hand. “What?” Tara pressed, feeling the anxiety build in her chest. Alanna shifted nervously in her seat, and took a deep breath before speaking.
“Tara I . . . I have to tell you something . . .”
Willow splashed her face with cold water, hoping calm the panic that was rocking her body.
I . . . I almost kissed her! What the hell is going on? Her almost encounter with the blonde had her mind running circles around her brain. One minute she was just sitting there, listening, and then the next minute she was practically sitting in Tara’s lap, wanting to suck face. How and when that happened was a complete blur, and all Willow could remember was feeling a ravenous desire to . . .
Whoa, whoa, whoa, you wanted to do that? When did I become such a perv?! Willow gripped the sides of the sink. Okay this is all wrong, she thought, taking deep breaths. Lifting her head, she looked at her reflection in the mirror.
Her face had gone completely red, spilling down her neck and up to her ears. But that was not what alarmed her. Her normally green eyes were completely dilated, pupils glowing a faint pink.
What in the world? She leaned in for a closer look, widening her eyes.
I don’t think this is what they meant when they say you have pink eye . . .
“You did what?!” Tara shouted in disbelief, her normally calm features darkening.
“I’m sorry!” Alanna sputtered. “I didn’t . . . I mean . . . I honestly didn’t think it would work!”
Tara was overwhelmed. She stared at the woman in front of her, who seemed to shrink from the blonde’s gaze as she tried to explain herself. “You weren’t responding to me on the dance floor, so I figured I must have done something wrong –“
“Let me get this straight,” Tara said, trying hard control the anger that was building inside of her, “It wasn’t alcohol in the drink, it was a love potion!?” Alanna nodded meekly. “Which Willow ended up guzzling, and that’s why she’s acting all weird?”
“Yes!” Alanna squeaked. “I figured you’d just take a sip cause it tasted so bad, which is all you need really, for the potion to work. It’s supposed to have an immediate effect so when you didn’t, you know, react to me I just figured I mixed the ingredients wrong.”
“Willow drank it all,” Tara gasped, realizing the repercussions of the red head downing the drink. “But you gave it to me, not to Willow, so why is she the one reacting to it?” Tara demanded.
“I don’t know . . . the fine print, it was in Latin.” She sank helplessly in her chair.
Tara shot her a withering look. “Which one was it?” she asked.
“What?”
“The potion! Where did you get it from?”
“I-I found it in the
Cupido Ferveo . . .”
“
Cupido Ferveo? There’s hundreds of spells and potions in that book!” Tara let out a frustrated sigh.
“It’s number nine,” Alanna said quietly.
“What?”
“I said it’s number nine!”
Tara stared at the woman in front of her, then let out an exasperated laugh. “Love potion number nine? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Willow was frantically pacing back and forth in the bathroom. She couldn’t stay here, not like this.
I could just go . . . and call Tara to tell her I was sick so I left. She stopped and looked in the mirror.
Okay, still with the pink! Oh goddess, what am I going to do? I can’t go to Tara, I might . . . try to make with the monkey love again . . . which sounds really appealing now- okay stop! What’s with the X-rated thoughts tonight? Besides, she’s probably with Alanna, being all snuggly and oogly eyed. Argh, I’m so not liking that chick. The thought of the two of them stirred a fierce feeling of jealousy.
Okay, we need to go. Like now. She walked to the door, only to have it swing open and smack her in the head.
“Goddess, Willow are you alright?” Tara asked fearfully, as Willow rubbed the side of her head.
“I’m okay! I’m okay! And . . . ow,” She quickly got up, avoiding the blonde’s eyes, but the blonde gently reached for her shoulders to give her the once over. Tara immediately noticed the flaming red color of her face and took a ragged breath.
“Willow, your face!” Her hand reached out and touched Willow’s cheeks, shocked at the heat coming off them. “You’re burning up! We need to get you out of here, I know what’s causing this - “ She grabbed the red head’s hand and quickly ushered them out of the bathroom.
“Tara, what-“
“Wait here,” the blonde said sternly, stopping in front of the exit. “I have to find Alanna first, so don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back!” Willow watched as Tara moved away.
She has to find Alanna? A shot of jealousy coursed through her veins at the mention of the name.
What in the frilly heck does she see in her anyway? She spied the two women near the bar.
I’m way better than she is! And . . . and I sure as hell can dance better than her too, running man or not! Her jealousy consumed her as she threw daggers at the other red head with her eyes.
I’ll show her . . . a sly smile formed on her lips.
Try and top this! she thought, ignoring Tara’s command to stay put, and made her way through the crowd.
“Tell me everything you know about the potion, right now,” Tara demanded.
“All I know is that it’s supposed to make the person desire you.” she responded, withering under the blonde’s intense stare.
“You don’t know how long it will last? How to stop it?” Alanna shook head, face full of shame.
“Tara I’m really sorry . . .”
“Look,” the blonde said, giving Alanna a hard stare. “I’m flattered that you like me, okay? But this is not the way to go about things. You don’t go messing with potions and spells if you don’t have a clue what you’re doing! Magic is not something to play around with; things can happen and trust me, you don’t want to be around when things go wrong!”
“It was stupid of me, okay? Tara please . . . I can help if you want,” Alanna wailed apologetically.
“No, I think you’ve done enough, and-“
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to dedicate this song to a very special someone.” Tara stopped mid rant and whipped her head around, looking for the person who was speaking.
I know that voice . . . Her eyes searched the crowd, and she gasped when she found what she was looking for.
[Cue music: Witchcraft, by Frank Sinatra]
Willow was standing on the stage, microphone in hand. “And you know who you are,” she added, looking straight at the blonde.
“What the-?! Oh Goddess, Willow!” Tara cried.
WILLOW: (Gliding across the stage)
Those fingers in my hair
That sly come hither stare
That strips my conscience bare
It's Witchcraft
(Leans an arm on the bass player, who smiles at her)
And I've got no defense for it
The heat is too intense for it
What good would common sense for it do?
(The crowd starts to cheer, egging her on as she struts to the piano)
'Cause it's witchcraft
Wicked witchcraft
And although I know
It's strictly taboo
(She hops on the piano, and crosses her legs as she points to Tara)
When you arouse the need in me
My heart says "yes indeed" in me
(She does the “come here” motion with her index finger at Tara)
Proceed with what you're leading me to
(She lays her back on the piano and strikes a sexy pose amid the howls from the males in the audience)
It's such an ancient pitch
But one I wouldn't switch
'Cause there's no nicer witch than you
(She gets off the piano and starts to twirl around, perhaps a little to fast, and loses her balance, falling into the bass player. Willow is undeterred, and starts dancing a . . . well, a very Willow-like dance)
Tara and Alanna stared in disbelief, mouths gaping open.
“It’s like watching a train wreck,” the red head mumbled, unable to turn away. “But she’s actually not half bad.”
“Yeah,” Tara replied, feeling shocked, embarrassed, and oddly aroused by Willow’s very public declaration of admiration.
WILLOW:
'Cause it's witchcraft
That crazy witchcraft
(She once again slinks across the stage)
And although I know
It's strictly taboo
(Her movements have become more seductive, and her eyes have locked on to Tara)
When you arouse the need in me
My heart says "yes indeed" in me
Proceed with what you're leading me to
(She winks at Tara and slowly brushes her fingers through her hair, where they get caught. She quickly tries to untangle her hand before continuing)
It's such an ancient pitch
But one I wouldn't switch
'Cause there's no nicer witch than you
(The crowd goes wild, and garlands are being thrown on the stage. Tara appears from backstage, and tries to pull Willow behind the curtains as she waves and blows kisses to the audience. She finally gets her backstage, only to have her run out for again for another curtain call. She bows and curtseys, to the approval of the audience, before Tara manages to wrestle her behind the curtain again.)
“Willow! I thought I told you to stay put!” Tara had managed to drag her down to the main floor.
“Sorry I just got the sudden urge to . . . you know,” Willow tried to explain as people were rushing to praise her for her performance.
“What? The sudden urge to channel the Rat Pack?” In spite of herself, Tara smiled in amusement. The red head stopped suddenly.
“Oh my God. Did I just . . . do what I . . .” she turned to look at the people around her, who had not stopped applauding since she left the stage. The realization of what she had just done horrified her, constricting her vocal chords to the point where she could only emit high pitched squeaking sounds.
“Willow, breath! We’re getting out of here, okay?” A look of pure terror was on the red head’s face.
“Tara-“ she managed to squeak.
“I’ll explain everything on the way to my dorm. Trust me!” The front doors of the student center burst open, as both women hurriedly made their way across campus.
To Be Continued . . .