[center]
[/center]
[center]See Chapter One for disclaimers.[/center]
Chapter Four - Nauseous
She had let too many terrible words slip from her mouth. Words, stupid words. So callous, so hard. Words she couldn’t take back; they had been out there floating around for over a month. It felt like longer. She felt sick just thinking about it.
…Those things I said to her… when she so vulnerable, all hurt and I made it worse….
Willow was anxious to have a real sit down talk with Tara. Not just a talk, but also an unburdening. Heaps of apologies, to hopefully try to level the forest between them. A forest she created and one she didn’t quite know how to get through. Had she ruined everything? She had felt so close to Tara, it was indescribable really. They had spent so much time together before everything went so wrong. Now there was a distance between them, lengthening with each passing day. And she hated it. She felt it, like a phantom limb. She would lean up against a chair or wall and feel the emptiness where Tara would have been leaning back against her. There was no one to entertain Hellmouth stories with; no one to amaze with strange factoids; no magicks to share. She felt awful. The worst part was that there was no one to comfort her… like Tara could. And it was all her fault. She made small strides, clearing away splinters. Tiny steps. Too tiny.
Stupid Willow, stupid mouth.
At first she left bags at Tara’s door. Snacks, treats, and dinners. Groveling to the nth degree. It was really an excuse to stop by and still have some kind of contact, even if it was limited. Each day she specifically picked out something special. Something she knew Tara liked. What started as a way to make amends quickly became an obsession. She developed a note-fetish.
The first few days, she’d simply leave her deliveries. After a couple more days, Tara opened the door a crack and they were speaking. Nothing big.
‘Hello.’
‘You don’t have to.’
‘I want to.’
‘Thank you.’
‘No problem.’
‘Goodbye.’
‘Call me.’
Easy words. Noncommittal statements. By the end of the week, Tara opened the door without hesitation. A doorway that was a marker to where she was no longer allowed. They spoke a little more, just at the threshold.
‘Hey.’
‘Hey.’
‘How are classes?’
‘Good, busy.’
‘You?’
‘Same, busy.’
‘How’s everything... else?’
‘Good, fine.’
‘Really, you shouldn’t….’
‘I really want to.’
‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘Are you ok?
‘Yes.’
‘Ok. Call me?’
‘Soon.’
But then Tara put a stop to it with a polite request to stop the everyday delivery runs. Not entirely, there was a one-day concession. After all that had happened, it was the least Willow could do.
So, now she just waited and the chasm between them seemed greater. Except for that one-day a week, where she’d look forward to a short exchange of impartial words, all the while, hoping for more.
The passing days and weeks made her more than a bit eager - she was hitting impatient. The waiting was driving her crazy; her brain would over-process everything until her temples pounded. As it stood she was completely in the dark. There had been no discussion after she stormed out of Tara’s room, no talk after she pleaded at Tara’s door. It left her wondering, questioning. Was Tara really pregnant? She believed her, she really did. But maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t. There was a chance, false-positives happened all the time in science. But the spell, and Giles…. OK, it was a slim chance, but she held on to it. Everyday she waited the impulse to somehow make things better grew stronger. But how could she make things better if she had no idea what was going on?
She waited and reminded herself.
Space, Tara wants space.
No, they weren’t hiding or avoiding each other. Now there just seemed to be space, lots of space. Occasionally she’d make a sweeping walk around campus just hoping to catch a passing glimpse of Tara. She would make sure to stay just far enough away to avoid being a space invader, mixing into the crowd and background where Tara wouldn’t look for her.
Why would she look for me after everything?
Progress. Slow progress, to test her patience… but patience be damned! It was close to the end of the third week of her reluctant agreement with Tara, and time for more evasive maneuvers.
Ok, we haven’t talk talked but things are good, just trying to keep things friendly. Right? Right. Time for more contact, ‘cause were not avoiding or hiding from each other… so it’s ok if I accidentally on purpose happen to be near the art building, even if that’s nowhere near any of my classes. If she asks I can say, what? I looped down past the student union to the art building on my way to my computer class that’s at the front of campus?! Oh, books! I can say books! I was getting one at the bookstore inside the student union and…? Or, I can tell her I just wanted to see her. How about I just wave and if she maybe, hopefully, comes up I can say ‘hi, how are you’. And try not to say or do something stupid.
Willow checked her watch and looked up, tapping her foot anxiously and clutching an open notebook to her chest. She watched the doors carefully as students exited in streams.
Target - blonde, blue-eyes, 5’ 4”… pretty…. Um? Where is she? Oh!
When she caught sight of Tara, she pretended to be walking towards the student union, casually glancing at her.
Look this way, please look this way.
Tara froze.
Willow?
OK, she’s looking at you and she looks shocked… but not unhappy. Ok now stop, smile, and wave. Now idiot! Right. Willow smiled and waved as her stomach knotted, waiting for a response. She was nervous and would remain so until she got some kind of response. What if she doesn’t wave back? Of course she will.
She’s saying hi? Tara smiled, returning the gesture in smaller measure.
See, like now. Willow brightened and suddenly her hand became a flag. She flapped it about a little wildly, oblivious to the bystanders staring at her.
See.
OK, she’s saying ‘hi’ and now looks a little insane waving like that. My, she is trying awfully hard. Tara chuckled.
Willow slowed down when she saw Tara giggling. There was something musical about Tara’s laugh. The modulation and tone merrily bounced around inside her too. Or, at least the memory of it. She saddened furrowing her brow just a little.
I miss her…. oh, and looking every bit the spaz. Willow dropped her arm sheepishly, but held on to her faltering smile.
I should go, I mean, I know we still haven’t spoken, not really…. Tara turned her head slightly and motioned at the humanities building.
Oh, she’s going, right, Women’s Studies class. Willow nodded to indicate she understood.
Tara hesitated briefly.
I really should talk to her… soon. Then she gave Willow one final small wave.
OK, so we don’t have to worry about talking face to face yet. Willow waved one more time and watched Tara leave. She let out a big huff. That went well enough, she waved back and all. Willow’s smile faded completely and she kicked the grass, peeking up again as Tara disappeared into the mass of bodies.
Tara when? When are you going to call me? How much time and space is ‘time and space’? What’s happening Tara? Willow checked the time again as she scribbled in her notebook. Then she took off for Giles’ with too many things on her mind.
In theory space was vast, it was a concept that she comprehended. Now she understood it on a physical level, the tangible vast space. The distance between two points was emptiness. Empty space she herself couldn’t fill, though she tried to.
Classes were attended with little enthusiasm. Schoolwork was finished ahead of time without zeal. Projects listlessly completed. ‘A+’s’, ‘100%’, ‘amazing work’ did little to pep her up. She was more interested in scratching out little things on scraps of paper.
It was no different with her Scooby duties. Her demeanor ranged from gloomy to droopy whether researching or fighting demons. When they needed magicks she became particularly sullen.
Another Scooby meeting… la-dee-dah. Willow walked into the living room stopping at the pink pastry box to grab a chocolate donut. She looked at Buffy with Riley and Xander with Anya, all four seated around on Giles’ sofa. Her gaze shifted to Giles standing off to the side.
Me and trusty old Giles. She took a hasty bite of the fried sugar treat. Then she grabbed a second one, stopped, and took two more donuts with a firm nod of her head before wandering over to a lone seat.
Giles observed Willow keenly as she made quick work of her first donut. He approached carefully. “Willow?”
Willow brushed the crumbs off the table. “Hey Giles.” Willow spoke glumly, as she flipped open a demon compendium sitting on his desk.
He cast a quick glance at the rest of the group huddled around the living room table. He addressed her in hushed tones, while nonchalantly adjusting his glasses. “How are you… and Tara?”
Willow looked up at him and shrugged her shoulders. “She still hasn’t called or anything.” She whispered back and turned to peek over her shoulder, making sure no one was listening.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure she will.”
“Yeah?” She sighed, looking at him in disbelief. As every week passed it seemed less likely.
He nodded.
By the time Willow left Giles’ she had a sour stomach and an equally sour mood. The paired up Scoobies invited her to hang out with them for dinner and a movie. They were concerned, but she declined even as Buffy and Xander begged her. Giles invited her to stay and talk. She knew he was being extra patient, but it was wearing. What was there to talk about that she hadn’t already talked about? No, she was waiting; it was her penance to bear alone.
Ugh, four donuts. I don’t feel so good, I really overdid it. She absentmindedly rubbed her upset tummy in small circles.
-------------
Tara collapsed in her room after another tiring day of classes. It’s not that they had changed and become more difficult. No, she had changed, and was changing still. Lately she was feeling weighed down like she had bricks strapped to her feet. She was tired. The constant hunger, coupled with the constant nausea, had increased two-fold. Strong odors had her running for the closest bathroom. Her waistline had grown slightly, but it was her increasing breast size that had her alarmed. They were sore. She was having terrible headaches and just started having the mildest of sensations in her stomach. To top it off, for many reasons, she still felt emotionally unstable, all of them revolving around her current physical state.
Well, at least there is Willow. She smiled slightly, remembering how eagerly she was greeted just a few days ago. Even if she was still upset at Willow, it would be difficult to stay that way; especially when she was putting forth so much effort. Willow was as subtle as a Mack truck.
For a while, like clockwork, the bags showed up and Willow would scamper away. Tara was the first one to initiate speaking, even if it was just small banter through the barely open door. Truthfully, she kind of enjoyed it. Willow’s gestures were sweet – and overdone. Even the simple little notes were a reminder of Willow. She supposed that was part of the intention. But she had to tell Willow to stop. Not completely, just not everyday, or even every other day. She was surprised, and even a little disappointed when Willow readily gave in. No, she didn’t want to punish Willow or be completely cut off from her either. So once a week, if Willow wanted to stop by she could, just to say ‘hi’.
Like today. Willow, of course, always brought her something.
The break from Willow gave Tara time to think about what she was doing, what she was feeling. Time to make plans. Tara sighed.
She’s apologized. I know she acted badly. And I know she’s trying hard. Have I forgiven her? Long ago. So why don’t I talk to her? Because?
Admittedly, Willow’s acts of penance were effective. Effective enough that those feelings Tara had began to creep back into her heart. Not that they were ever gone; just more easily suppressed. It was part of the reason she had to tell Willow to stop, and part of the reason she put off their talk. Her feelings and current situation were complex, to say the least. What was merely a crush now had way too many complications.
Magickally impregnated by your straight friend that you like... more than like?
Complicated.
Reality is, I’m pregnant and alone. I don’t know what Willow will think… or do, when I tell her I plan to keep the baby. She reacted so badly to the pregnancy news, what will she say when she knows? Hopefully she’ll be supportive. Right now …Willow… is kind of a big question mark. But that makes it easier, doesn’t it? ...Not having to deal with the possibility of another rejection? What happens when she knows, then what? Whatever Willow does does affects me, and whatever affects me will affect the baby.
Very complicated.
I definitely need to talk to her though. It’s not fair keeping this from her. After all, she is the baby’s other parent. It’s not like I’ll be able to hide you for much longer. She placed a hand over her belly and smiled.
What Tara did know was that there was absolutely no way she could go home; not in her condition. She tilted her head at the thought.
Dad would be so angry. But, on the other hand, I’d be having a child, so he would assume I had ‘relations’ with a boy. Some boy, ha! She laughed to herself, but quickly stopped.
Magickally pregnant by another woman… no, not funny at all. That would be much worse. Dad would lock me away forever. I’d be a slave, treated like a piece of property. I’d never be allowed to go out on my own again. Just like Mama. Images of becoming a complacent homemaker made her shudder. There were reasons she didn’t like discussing her family.
Tara glanced at the clock.
It’s almost time, five minutes… designated visiting time. She restlessly got up and unlocked the door, leaving it open just a bit.
----
1, 2, 3… 10, 11, 12, turn, 13, 14, 15… 21, 22, 23, 24 turn, walk… 25, 26, 27… 34, 35, 36 turn, 37, 38, 39…. Willow counted them every time. Some students said ‘hi’ and she mouthed a ‘hi’ back; some whispered to each other and she ignored them. All that mattered were the 48 steps that landed her on Tara’s floor.
… 46, 47, 48. She automatically turned right and walked down the hall towards Tara’s room.
Dorms hallways always look the same, they never change?
But there was something different. A sliver of warm light through the crack of a generally plain door drew her attention.
Her door’s open? Why is her door open?
Willow approached cautiously. Hellmouth demon thoughts abruptly jumped in her mind as she cautiously tiptoed closer.
Oh no, vampire… demon? No, Tara knows better than to let just anyone in her room. Maybe she just stepped out? Maybe she has a visitor? She knitted her brow.
“Willow?”
Willow jumped, not expecting her name to be called. “Holy Hellmouth! Tara? You scared me.” She stood just outside the door, clutching the bag, suddenly not knowing what to do. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll just leave this here. Okay, bye.”
“Willow, wait!”
If it was possible, Willow’s already startled heart started beating faster. Wait? She stopped, then set the bag down, and took a step away from the door. Neutral ground, the middle of the hallway. “Yes?” She tried to peek through the crack in the door from a distance. Recognizable colors and shapes reminding her of her expulsion. A wink of a Christmas light; a scrap of colored abstraction from the wall hanging; a slice of the red desk lamp; a bit of the green undercoat showing through the black peeling paint of a set of drawers.
Tara hesitated on the other side of the door and bit her lip. “I… I was h-hoping you might want to j-join me. For dinner?”
Willow paused and stood on her toes, hopeful at the prospect. “Um, are you sure?”
“I am.” The door opened fully.
I get to come inside. An elfin smile slowly spread across Willow’s face. She had an overwhelming desire to hug Tara, who stood there with her head tilted. But she held back. Willow didn’t know what to do except nervously clench her hands. They once had such a natural physical friendship. Now she felt ill at ease. There was some invisible boundary she just couldn’t surmount, imaginary yellow warning tape now marked off appropriate personal space. And Tara seemed inclined to neither breech the barrier or invite her closer. They were in separate countries. She wanted to reach out but didn’t. Instead she picked up the bag and step through the threshold grinning.
Ok, but don’t push, hold back, just let Tara take the lead. Hello fairy lights, how long has it been? Over a month now?
“Do you m-mind if we just have d-dinner? I know there’s still a lot to….” She searched Willow’s eyes, shyly hoping she’d interpret her meaning. Yes, she knew they needed to talk, but right now she just wanted a trial run of sorts.
Ok, no talking about the, er, huge elephant in the room. Hey, but at least I’m in the room. “No,
just dinner is
just fine!” Willow replied cheerfully, emphasizing the words to show she understood. “Oh, oh, but is this enough? I mean I can run out and get more.” She held up the paper bag.
More? Tara smiled warmly. “It’s enough, um, actually you always overdo it a little.”
Or a lot.
“Oh?” Willow smiled innocently. In actuality, Willow’s deliveries had grown larger and larger with each passing week. What she couldn’t say to Tara she tried to convey in overstuffed packages of repentance. It never seemed like enough, cramming all her remorsefulness and guilt into one bag.
Ok, no pushing. Right. Just a nice friendly dinner.
“Why don’t you sit down?”
“OK. Well. Here.” Willow held out the bag, and then pulled back suddenly. “Actually, why don’t you have a seat? And, I’ll unpack this, um, stuff and plates and….”
“You don’t have to walk on pins and needles around me you know?” Tara crooked an eyebrow at her. “I’ll get some plates. What do you want to drink?”
Pins and needles? Hello! Alright just calm down. “Right. Ah, soda, please.” Willow stood shifting in her place.
Like always, she’s trying too hard. Tara placed the plates and utensils in the middle of the futon. Then she took a seat, holding a soda for Willow and water for herself.
Willow sat down slowly when Tara did, pulled off her jacket, and put the bag on the floor between them. She made sure to stay a polite distance away, somewhere between ‘I’m not freaked out’ at the end of the futon, and ‘I’m not pushy’ too close. It landed her two feet away from Tara, who was holding out a soda to her. “Thanks.”
Tara placed the dishes between them and started unpacking the bag. She froze momentarily; there was a note on top.
Willow saw the note too.
Oh boy, elephant in room alert!
Relax, don’t let it phase you, that will only set Willow off. Tara simply took the note and put it in her pocket. Then she resumed unpacking dinner. “Thai food. Thanks.”
One of my favorites, as usual. 5 containers of food, more than enough for the two… well, three.
Start slow. “So, how’s school?” Willow studied Tara keenly. She doesn’t really look pregnant.
Maybe she’s put on a tiny bit of weight. Of course she is, she said she was.
“Good, a bit tiring.” Tara bit her lip. She hadn’t really talked about her pregnancy symptoms to anyone and she didn’t really want to. It was a slip. Despite their separation and awkwardness it was still easy to fall into familiar idle patter with Willow. She quickly changed the subject. “What about you, Scooby duties?”
Tired? Willow eyed up Tara curiously as she spooned generous portions of food on her plate. “Well it’s been kind of quiet so far. Except….”
“Except Jonathon?” Tara pushed the spoon into the rice then handed the container to Willow.
Willow carefully took the container, making sure not to touch hands. “Right. There was this weird kind of alternative universe thing, where everyone thought that this kind of nerdy guy, Jonathon, was a superhero-god supreme, only he was a monster too. Oh, and Buffy was still the slayer, but more like junior-slayer sidekick.”
“Really?”
Here cometh the babble... and I’ve missed it, missed her, but…. Tara didn’t look up as she scooped up some curry and put it next to the rice on her plate. She settled back as Willow told her story with animated hand motions and theatrical facial expressions.
“…Then at the last minute Buffy saved him. The next day we all woke up and kind of knew. Whew, what a relief. I mean, I can’t believe I thought he was cute… ah, in the alternate weird world. Really, ‘cause, no.” Willow shook her head.
Because there was that strange wedding dream, and we were both wearing white?
She thought he was cute. “Wow.” Tara stooped over, picking up the empty used plates and abruptly stopped.
“Oh, and I’m pretty sure everyone had a thing for him!” Willow laughed out loud, still sitting on the futon.
This is nice, just like before. Friendly-friends.
Tara didn’t hear a word Willow had said. Suddenly she caught a whiff of something terrible. Something strong invaded her nostrils, a stench causing everything inside her to revolt. She instantly felt her mouth go dry, her throat constricted, and her stomach became a volcano of acid.
Oh no, someone on the floor is making coffee! God, not now. Tara dropped the plates and hastily rushed out of the room.
OK it wasn’t that bad a story. “Tara?” Willow immediately hopped up, staring at the open door. She looked down at the abandoned pile of dishes, then back at the hallway.
It wasn’t the story, idiot. The food? No. “Tara!” She ran after her, down the hallway, stopping at the bathroom door.
Tara sat on her knees in a bathroom stall with a hand braced against the wall for support. She leaned over the toilet and closed her eyes tight. The burning slosh in the pit of her stomach began to travel upward.
Willow nervously entered the bathroom, hearing the unmistakable sounds of Tara ejecting her dinner. She grimaced, looking at the partially closed stall door. “Tara? Can I help? What can I do?" When she got no answer she started pacing.
Tara gagged slightly, still up on her knees. She held it in, then sat back down on her haunches, wiping her mouth with her hand. “No. I. I-I’m OK.” She closed her eyes again as another wave of nausea came over her. The strain caused her eyes to water.
“Are… are you sure you’re OK?” Willow peeked under the stall door and saw Tara’s feet and legs.
Tara swallowed back the feeling once more. “I’m s-sorry about d-dinner. I didn’t mean to spoil… m-morning s-sickness.” Her stomach clenched and she felt that terrible acidy feeling in her throat again. This time she couldn’t hold it back as she bent over the porcelain bowl.
Morning sickness? Oh god, Tara’s really is pregnant. Willow retreated back until she hit a sink, her feet kept moving backwards until she clumsily sat in the bowl, her legs pumping uselessly in the air. The back of her head hit the mirror with force and it all finally registered. She quickly clasped a hand over her mouth choking back the feeling. Suddenly she felt very sick too.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Does anyone else think that 'submit' button is kind of dominatrixy? "SUBMIT!" Starcomed just laughs while putting up with me. 
Login
FAQ
Search
That is too freakin' cute!
[/center]
that's adorable 
?
[/center]
[/center]
