Chapter 4: How The Eskimos Kiss
Willow awoke in silvery moonlight. Her eyes opened to the pretty little body in front of her, staring back at her with the sky in the depths of her eyes.
“Restless Willow, you even wake up in your sleep,” Tara leaned against the wall opposite Willow’s bed, her cool eyes penetrating Willow’s fevered form.
“What’re you saying gypsy girl?” The redhead’s voice was low; she was just waking to the world.
Tara wore a layered skirt that fell in waves down to her thighs. It was the kind of garment meant to be bunched up in your hands, pushed up to reveal what the fabric only hinted at. Her blouse hung thin and loose on her body; it wouldn’t be too hard to rip…y’know, if anyone was into that particular sort of a thing.
“When it comes time to love me are you going to be too afraid?” She seemed vulnerable and small.
“I don’t want to think about that now,” there was a soft rustling as Willow departed hastily from the bed. The blonde was on the move, opening doors Willow didn’t remember her house having. “Slow down for me,” she yawned, running after the ethereal figure.
They were in Sunnydale Theatre’s arcade again when Willow caught her. She felt that they were just two spirits intertwined in the night, in some eternal night.
“Are you going to show me how to play Willow? Or are you done playing?” Her voice sounded so soft and seductive to Willow.
They were the only two that existed in this silvery old cinema. “You know I really liked showing you,” she held the blonde just like before, breathing deep into the space between her neck and shoulder, “It feels wonderful holding each other like this.”
“Shouldn’t you be wondering why?”
“I don’t want to think right now, although not thinking’s a hard thing to do.” Tara turned around in her arms and Willow felt every soft part of her body. She took the challenging grin as an offering and kissed the lips that formed such soft and provoking words, hard.
Their kisses dizzied her like the time her parents let her have a glass of wine as a young, gleeful kid. They hung like that, outside of time and space, as just two souls on the precipice of their consummate meeting.
She should’ve known it was too good.
SDROCK is back this lovely Monday morning. For those of you just waking, welcome to the land of the alive. Here’s your daily dose of rock in the morning.
She woke woozy, a buzzing in her head and an uncomfortable stickiness in her pajama bottoms. The blinding sunshine and the chorus to Black Hole Sun attacking her waking senses, she immediately sank back into the sheets like a young child contemplating faking sick today. What’s wrong with me? What’s happening to my heart?
She tried to stare into her chest but just ended up cracking her stiff neck. After a deep sigh, she still did not want to get up and meet the day. Last night had brought her a torrent of new emotions. In fact, every day that she knew Tara seemed to add weights to her heart, ‘til it was laden with emotion and when the girl was in her company it was the exact opposite. Her heart seemed to almost soar, exultant, as far away as Andromeda maybe. Certainly it went off into new worlds, light as a cloud.
She thought back to last night at the Bronze.
After dancing with Faith, the girl had danced with Xander, and finally, blushing, had asked Willow to dance. And how good she could move! Her curvy form whirling in Willow’s arms, pressed almost completely against her, only grazing her lap at strategic moments that made Willow blush and sweat and breath too hard against Tara’s cheek and, God please, don’t let her hear my heart beat.
And then it was over and they could only hold there for that holy moment when they were centimeters away from a kiss, their arms still around each other, and gravity pulling them almost close enough to—
Until the moment that Willow turned away, eyes wide and frightened. Tara ducking her head, embarrassed and guilty. The others noticing, saying nothing. And the evening ended with that, Buffy walking Xander home, Faith walking Tara home, Willow biting her lip to stop her own protest. It’s not like I could protect her myself.
Tara as always so attuned to Willow’s moods pulled the girl aside with a soft hand at her wrist, pulling her into a corner by the bar’s counter. For a second Willow entertained the fantasy that she was being led into a passionate make-out session. She mentally flogged herself immediately afterwards.
The blonde grabbed Willow’s hand in her own and turned it palm up. She grabbed a pen from the counter and wrote the number 143 on the pale skin. “T-That’s my locker number, in case you ever want to m-meet up, I um, I’m usually early…y’know…if, if you want to.”
“Yeah sure! We can meet up tomorrow in the morning. I’m usually early too; usually I just stay up in the library reading or making new, y’know computer programs to make my um, study sessions more efficient and…wow how lonely and pathetic do I sound right now?”
“On a scale of one to ten? A seven maybe?” Tara teased her, “I um, I’m usually in a dark corner writing in my little n-notebook and probably raising more than a few doubts as to my mental stability.”
She’s always making me feel good, Willow realized she was gazing a little too deeply into the blue, but it’s so easy to get lost, and quickly looked away, “So um, it’s a date tomorrow? I-I mean…well, you know what I mean.”
“Yes, Willow, we all know what you mean,” like a bullet, Faith shot into their space, slinging an arm around Tara’s shoulder, “Let’s go, T! Everyone with a paternal figure at home has got to go!”
And Tara was gone, taken in the gust of raw energy that is Faith Lehane, yelling, “S-see you tomorrow Will!” from behind her shoulder, her white-blonde locks waving behind her.
She brought her bad mood into the van and it filled the small space. Driving home, Oz had been even quieter than usual, or rather; his silence seemed like a loaded one. She felt too hopeless to care, and it made her feel worse as didn’t that just make her the worst girlfriend in the world? To be so selfish as to not care because of some inexplicable jealousy over a girl Willow hardly really knew at all, but know so well.
Their kiss goodbye had been a chaste one, and she had neither given nor really received it. It saddened her, but what almost made her cry was the fact that the only reason she was getting up today was her date with Tara. All I want is a little guidance, oh God.
~~
Leo Dubois sat nursing his coffee, two plates overwrought with breakfast foods in front of him, “Tara! I see icicles forming on your pancakes, baby!”
Still no answer. She never was the type of girl to spend an hour and a half in front of a mirror, but then there was that Willow girl she fancied now. “Jesus, it’s been two days. Save the mascara for when you’re at least near third base for Christ’s sake.”
“What’s that mumbling over there?” Finally the girl emerged from her room, wearing a long pink skirt and a white blouse, her hair done up to fall in wisps about her face; she looked like Venus Herself.
“Whoa, whoa, miss. I believe you missed two very important buttons on that there blouse, hmm?”
“Let me have a little excitement every now and then, Leo. This is the sluttiest thing I do,” she sat and started to pick at her food as she checked her watch.
The man laughed throatily and ate voraciously now that Tara had joined him, “And how did your date go?”
Tara frowned almost wistfully, “No, n-no date. She has an um boyfriend.”
The man rubbed his as of yet unshaven face, “An um boyfriend eh? Well, I wouldn’t worry about that. An um boyfriend is nothing at all like a real boyfriend.”
The girl only shrugged, knowing better than to hope for something so impossible, girls like that weren’t meant for me. “She’s so sweet. I mean, even if we end up as just f-f-friends…”
“Just friends?” Leo looked at her curiously, “That’s quitter talk missy, and I’ll have none of it!”
“She’s straight though,” the girl persisted, with big sad eyes.
“Tara, trust me. Being a cop in this town…I’ve seen stranger things than a supposedly straight person finding their inner twists and turns, all right?”
She nodded though her mind was already turning to something else, “I keep hearing this town this and this town that. Is there something going in Sunnydale, Leo?”
He nodded solemnly, “I reckon, yeah. You just be real careful all right? Even if you think you can trust someone--”
“I-I w-will.”
~~
She hoped she wouldn’t be too early to meet Tara. She felt nervous as she walked through the nearly empty halls of Sunnydale High; she thought she’d taken a longer time getting ready.
It certainly felt like a lifetime, picking through her clothes, trying on different hats or parting her hair this way or that, would Tara like a girl in bright red overalls?
“Damn, Red, why you here so early?”
Ah, there’s nothing quite like having your reverie broken by that Bostonian accent.
“Why are you here so early?” She shot back, nice comeback, Rosenberg.
The brunette shrugged leisurely, falling into step next to Willow, “General mischief. I haven’t even gone to bed yet, to tell ya the truth.”
“I wouldn’t have noticed seeing as you wear the same outfit every single day. Are a white tank and leather pants the bad girl uniform now?”
“Nah, I got lucky in this here institution of pretty low learning last night.” And she winked, teasingly.
Willow lunged at her without a thought, grabbing her by the collar, “You better not have hurt Tara after you left. You better have taken her straight home like you said!”
The dark slayer batted the girl’s hand off, careful to be gentle about it, “It wasn’t with your girl, Red, relax. Don’t stretch out my tank in your crazy jealous rages.”
Emerald eyes rolled playfully, relieved now, “Like I could. Your boobs already stretched it out as far as it could go. The center cannot hold anymore.”
“Been noticing eh?” She laughed throatily, “Psh! The center cannot hold? You’re such a fucking nerd, Red.”
“And you read at a seventh grade level,” she shot back quickly.
“Ah, those tests don’t mean shit.”
“Right,” she responded dryly, “By the way, is there an actual reason you’re stalking me, or do I just have a cute tushie?”
“You get funnier every day, Red,” she shook her head fondly, “I actually wanted to talk to you about T.”
“I hate how you’re calling her that now…” Her grumble was low enough to be easily missed.
But Faith hadn’t missed it, “So I was thinking, maybe we should fess up to T about the Hellmouth and all. Not that I consider myself one of you Scrappy-Doo’s or whatever, but if T’s living in Sunnydale and you want to call yourself her friend you should at least let her know everything that goes on. It’d be safer than not knowing, even if she freaks.”
“I don’t know. She might be safer if I kept her out of it, plus I don’t want her thinking I’m some freak and never wanting to see me again.”
“Yeah,” Faith drawled, “Because the words I save the world on a nearly daily basis never got anyone any pussy.”
“Look, I’ll think about it,” Willow said resolutely, “But I don’t want Tara in danger, understand? If that means lying about Scoobie stuff then--”
“She’s a big girl, okay?” Faith told her, starting to part ways with Willow at a crossroads in the hallway, “Just think about it.”
~~
Tara leaned meekly on her red locker, her books cradled tightly to her chest, as if it could contain the shuttling of her heart at the sight of Willow making her way over to her, enamored and shy.
For a split second, Willow didn’t know what she should do, but at the sight of the girl waiting there for her so sweetly she felt her heart contract then stretch and grow bigger, and through her nervousness leaned in to give her cheek a kiss.
Tara’s pink lips formed a surprised little “o.” Her eyes widened almost comically.
Blushing, Willow told her, “That’s how Spaniards say hello, see uh, Spanish is my first period class so I’m sorta trying to get into the whole spirit. You know, el espirito!”
Tara’s expression was that of a hopelessly smitten girl, the redhead’s excited, connective talk was the grandest sound she’d ever heard, it has a rhythm of its own. In the giddy aftermath—still feeling the warmth of Willow’s lips marking her cheek—she swayed forward in all her deliberate grace and rubbed noses with Willow.
The diminutive girl could only stand there frozen, Tara’s silly little caress tickling her nose like a warm drizzle.
“That’s how Eskimos s-say hello,” the blonde told her, “We’re learning about them in Human Geography.”
Willow could only nod dumbly at her, her nose tingling, “Yeah, they’re uh, some pretty cool people, those Eskimos…sorta like, cold Hawaiians.”
Tara laughed, her face radiating with her glee, “Oh, Willow, I’ve never met anyone who sees the world like you.”
“I’ve never met anyone with eyes like yours,” Oh great, now I have Honesty Tourrettes.
Before the blonde could even get over her shock to respond the bell had rung, interrupting them rudely or saving her, Tara didn’t quite know.
“I’ll walk you!” Willow offered, a little loudly, “I mean, if you want me to? Walk you to your first period?”
“Sure,” it felt so right to walk side by side with Willow, if only she would take my hand in hers, “M-my first class is in room 109, with Mr. Antolini.”
“Oh, isn’t that AP Human Geography? You’re taking an AP class?” She grabbed Tara’s books from her hand, glancing at their titles, “These are all AP books. That’s so cool! I uh, I take AP too! Nobody else I know does though…the other kids that do never really want to study together, it’s all a competition with these intellectuals today.”
Tara ducked her head, her hair falling like wisps of spun gold to frame her soft face, “You want to study together sometime?”
That’s so hot! “I’d love to study with you.”
Tara couldn’t help but smile around Willow, it seemed. The girl looked so cute walking her to class, Tara’s books in her hands, I wonder if she realizes she’s carrying my books?
She decided to enjoy the scene out of context, Willow might just be some sweet suitor, trying to do small gestures for my affection…like she’d have to if she were. God, I’m a sucker for a girl in red overalls.
during their study session...
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and thanks for still reading.