by Alcy » Fri Apr 09, 2010 3:31 am
Okay, I owe a whole lot of feedback but I thought all of you would rather I got the update up as quickly as possible. So without further ado...
[center]~ Chapter 17 ~
A wild dissolving bliss[/center]
Stranger things had happened to her over the past month, but Willow knew that finding a job that she enjoyed was one of the more unexpected outcomes of her attempted reinvention. While it wasn’t exactly a high powered job, Willow had done virtually nothing for so long that she felt useful just sitting at her desk playing with her multi-coloured Post-it notes.
Another email popped up in her inbox and she sighed with relief upon seeing it was the one she had been waiting on for the past hour - the latest advertisement for one of RB Dynamics’ new products. She spent a few minutes checking that the designer had created everything to specification before forwarding it on to the Dominion Post for inclusion in the weekend edition.
She swivelled in her chair to face Buffy Summers who was sitting on the other side of the room. Their brief meeting in the elevator had set the tone for their relationship so far. Willow was new; Buffy was the experienced professional who was showing her the ropes – with a hefty dose of teasing along the way. Still, Willow enjoyed the blonde’s company – even if she couldn’t quite figure her out. On a personal level, they hadn’t moved past swapping basic and trivial information. For her part, Willow wasn’t prepared to launch into a brief history of her misspent youth to someone she had to see every day. Admitting that she was a serial party girl who specialised in one-night stands and, wasn’t high on her list of introductions.
“Dom Post ad has gone,” Willow announced with an air of satisfaction
Buffy responded with a cat-like stretch and an accompanying yawn as she leant back in her chair. She then swivelled around to flash a big smile in Willow’s direction.
“I would tell you to go home early for a job well done, but it’s hardly early. It’s nearly five-thirty,” Buffy commented with a quick glance up at the large clock on the wall.
The blonde eased herself out of her chair and walked over to Willow’s desk, inviting herself to sit delicately on the corner. “Feel like getting a drink tonight? A few of us usually frequent St John’s on the waterfront to celebrate the end of another Monday, and it also helps to make Tuesday a little easier. Um, or worse, depending on how much you drink.”
“Waterfront…sounds nice…” Willow paused as the mention of ‘waterfront’ reminded her of something else she already had planned that evening – something far more important than drinks with work colleagues.” Shit, shit, shit. Sorry Buffy, but I’m late for...something.”
Willow leapt out of her chair and began stuffing various items back into her bag or in other appropriate places. Her Blackberry and a sweater went into the bag, a half eaten muesli bar was shoved in her mouth and her sandwich crusts went in the bin. She was also mentally calculating how long it would take her to get home, changed into her running gear and out onto the pavement in time for her 6.30pm ‘rendezvous.’
In the midst of this whirlwind a rather bemused Buffy was perched on Willow’s desk watching the flurry of activity around her. The blonde sat quietly, until Willow finally stopped moving and stood still in the middle of the room. For a few moments, she furrowed her brow as though trying to run through a mental checklist in her mind.
“You totally have a hot date.” Buffy announced with a broad grin.
“What?” Willow asked with her mouth half full. “Who has a hot date? You do?”
“Don’t play ignorant with me, Ms Rosenberg,” Buffy said as she narrowed her eyes in Willow’s direction. “You’re displaying all the classic signs of being late for a date.”
Shaking her head quickly, Willow refuted any suggestions of a ‘date.’ For once, she wasn’t lying. “No, no hot date. I’m just late for my run.”
“You’re running late for a run?” Buffy asked sceptically. “Can’t you run at anytime?”
“It’s a group thing; I have to meet other people,” Willow explained. She didn’t feel guilty, it wasn’t even stretching the truth.
“Okay, I suppose you’re off the hook…but we also drink Fridays. I don’t know whether you would be interested or not, but Grant from Finance was asking about you when I was at the water cooler this morning.”
With it closed and bulging slightly, Willow swung her bag over her shoulder and gave Buffy a level stare. “You had a cooler conversation about me? With Grant?”
Buffy laughed at the look on Willow’s face. “You’ve got something against accountants?”
No, not accountants…just men in general, Willow thought. She wasn’t about to come out to Buffy when she was in such a hurry. There would no doubt be the initial reaction of shock, then often came the flurry of questions about what it was like to sleep with a girl and so on. Willow didn’t have time for that conversation. It could be a Tuesday conversation.
“Um, we can talk about this tomorrow. I promise?” Willow suggested. “See you.”
“Yeah, although you’re not getting off that lightly. Enjoy your run.”
Oh god, Willow thought as she grinned and left her office. How am I supposed to enjoy my run when I’m only running for the purpose of bumping into Tara? Willow slipped into the silence of the lift. Her busy afternoon and sudden panic had kept her fears at bay. However, now as she had time to think alone, they all came flooding back. The sudden twisting of her gut made her feel less like running and more like throwing up.
~~~~~~
Tara breathed the sigh of relief that she always felt upon entering her apartment. Although it was on the small side, decidedly unfashionable and in need of a decent spring clean, it was home. She hadn’t exactly had a stressful day – just a string of errands around town and a few hours of research at the university library for her new book. In fact, to most people it would have been a relaxing day. Tara, however, had felt her energy levels flagging for some time. Even such a simple day out left her tired and longing to curl up and go to sleep.
She tossed her bag on the floor and gratefully sank into her worn, comfy couch with a dramatic sigh. Allowing her eyes to close, she felt as though she could quite easily drift off into a deep sleep. There were a dozen things she could have done instead, dirty dishes in the sink, several loads of washing, watered her plants, or cooked herself some dinner. Everything was entirely unappealing. Tara was in the process of dragging a rug down over her legs when her peace was not only disturbed but shattered by Faith’s arrival. Her best friend crashed through the door without knocking, causing Tara to jerk up with a sudden start. The next thing she saw was her smelly running shoes flying towards her face. She managed to put up a hand to deflect them just before they hit her square on the nose. They landed on her stomach instead.
“You’ve got one minute to get your gears on, we’re going for a run,” Faith announced without giving Tara any say in the matter.
It was then that Tara had a chance to look at Faith and realised that she was already fully kitted out for a run, complete with a rather naff looking sweatband around her head.
Tara groaned and tossed her shoes onto the ground. “I’m really not in the mood for pounding the pavement. Tomorrow okay?”
She listened to the sound of Faith’s feet moving across the floorboards, coming towards her. A moment later, she felt herself being rudely tugged from her safe, secure position on the couch. Her face was twisted into an expression of disgruntled annoyance as she sat and watched Faith collect her shoes.
“Come on,” Faith said as she dangled the shoes in front of her. “Grab these Nikes and go get ready.”
“Why are you being so persistent?” Tara asked suspiciously. “Hang on a minute - are you trying to tell me I’ve put on weight?”
“Don’t be fucking ridiculous. It’s got nothing to do with your weight and everything to do with the fact that you’re a moody, self-absorbed recluse. Come running with me, get the endorphins pumping a bit and get out of your slump!”
“I feel like I’m being scolded.”
“You are being scolded!” Faith growled. “Now hurry up.”
It took Tara slightly longer than the requested minute to get herself ready, but ten minutes later both she and Faith were out in the fresh air jogging around the gorgeous Wellington waterfront. The subsequent ten minutes were absolute hell for Tara. She had not even looked at her running shoes in months and it was plainly evident in her complete lack of fitness. The wheezing sounds she was emitting were positively terrifying. At any moment she thought she might collapse or even have a heart attack.
The near-death experience eventually passed and Tara found she was settling into a familiar rhythm. She less resembled a spastic monkey and more someone who was enjoying finding their stride. The wheezing became controlled breathing.
“You alright, T?”
“I am now,” Tara found herself able to talk easily. If she had tried to answer Faith’s question a few minutes earlier, her friend would have heard nothing but strangled gasps. “Hey, thanks for this...getting me out of the house. I really needed it.”
“No worries. It’s self-serving really. You were getting to be kind of a drag to be around. I’m just trying to make you more fun for my sake.”
“Gee, thanks,” Tara replied sarcastically.
Faith smiled. Of course, Tara had no idea of the extent of her plans to make her ‘more fun.’ A part of her knew that bringing Willow back into Tara’s life was one of the only things she could do that would actually work. Well, it would either work or be a complete disaster that made things even worse.
Thinking about her plan, Faith kept glancing back over her shoulder looking for Willow. She hoped Tara didn’t notice the little glances and wonder what the hell she was doing. Just when she was about to think that the redhead would be either too late or not show at all, she saw a figure in the distance that could very well be her. With the pace that she and Tara were keeping, it would be several minutes before Willow could catch them. Being the impatient individual that she was, Faith didn’t want to wait that long.
“Ouch! Damn!” Faith gasped and pulled to a swift halt. She hopped over to a nearby bench and sat down heavily. She pretended to probe gently at her right ankle.
“Are you okay?” Tara stopped running immediately and joined her.
“Nothing too bad, I just rolled my bad ankle...the one I hurt at indoor soccer last year,” Faith explained.
“I told you to stay off it for longer than you did,” Tara growled, starting to bend down so she could examine it.
Faith batted her hand away. “Just because I’m a moron doesn’t mean you have to abandon your run. Go on, I’ll just wait here until you come back. Quickly, before you lose your momentum altogether.”
Tara didn’t look so sure. “I can’t just leave you sitting here!”
“Hey,” Faith nodded towards a rather strapping young man running past them wearing no shirt. “I’ll be fine, plenty of eye candy.”
“Yeah, I’ll probably come back and you’ll have three phone numbers and one marriage proposal,” Tara commented grudgingly.
“Go!” Faith urged Tara on. She had just seen that Willow was about to catch up to them.
With a slight shrug, Tara continued her run, leaving Faith sitting on the bench with a rather broad smirk on her face. Less than half a minute later, Willow jogged up to the bench where she was sitting.
“That was smooth.”
“Well you better be just as smooth, Red,” Faith warned her. “This is your last chance. Don’t fuck it up. If she comes back to me with tears in her eyes, there will be unpleasant consequences for you.”
“No tears, gotcha.”
If Willow wasn’t nervous before, the threat of having to answer to Faith definitely made her nervous. With a last nod towards Tara’s best friend, she started out after her.
It took her a good five minutes to catch up to the blonde. On one hand, Tara was an excellent runner and on the other, Willow did get a little distracted staring at her arse to the point where she almost forgot to move her legs.
Willow dropped into step just behind Tara, maintaining her distance as she tried to figure out her next move. Should she breeze past Tara and hope that the blonde would see her and call out? That move was quickly tossed aside. It was more likely that Tara would think she was ignoring her. She opted for the most simple approach. Speeding up slightly, she moved up beside Tara – but not so close as to give the blonde a fright.
“Hey you,” Willow said breezily.” The words came out sounding normal enough, but Willow felt anything but on the inside. The rate her heart was beating had little to do with the exercise and everything to do with the effect Tara had on her.
“Holy fuck..” Tara stumbled on a slightly crack in the path and almost went flying. She recovered quickly before turning to confirm that it was indeed Willow Rosenberg who was running beside her. “Sorry, about that....um, hi.”
“Don’t worry,” Willow laughed lightly. “I’ve had worse greetings.” I’m running beside Tara...just out for a run. Me and Tara. Tara and I, out for a run. The little mantra kept repeating in her head. After a while it became slightly annoying and she tried to block it out, instead concentrating on the cute little beads of sweat that were sliding down Tara’s temples. After a while she realised she ought to say something else.
“So, good run? Well, so far of course. Since I’m sure you’ve got some fantastic distance in mind.”
“Yeah, although no great distance. I was thinking of just going to the yacht club before turning around again. I’m a bit out of shape,” Tara admitted. She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted Willow to do. A part of her wanted Willow to find her pace too slow and pull off into the distance. However, the other part of her wanted Willow to stay just where she was. She glanced quickly at Willow. One look wasn’t enough, she had to look again just to confirm that the redhead wasn’t wearing the matching outfit that she had always imagined her running in. The tank top she wore fit her very snugly however, clinging to her breasts, her flat stomach. There was a small patch of sweat between Willow’s breasts, indicating just how human she was.
Her own t-shirt however, felt as though she had been swimming in it. She was sure every inch of it was soaked in sweat and that she looked as foul as she felt. Everything about herself felt awkward and uncomfortable. In a matter of minutes, she had gone from being in the blissful headspace of a runner ‘in the zone’ to being a nervous wreck because the woman she was infatuated with was running beside her.
Tara put a hand to her head as though she was trying to keep a headache at bay when in actual fact she felt like running headfirst into a tree just so she really would have a headache. She needed something to keep her mind off the woman running next to her. Tara cast another glance over her shoulder and tried to watch Willow surreptitiously as she ran. The redhead had an expression of steely determination, betraying none of the inner turmoil she herself felt. Tara willed her to lose her mask just a little, just so she could see that she was having as much of an impact on Willow as Willow was having on her.
Willow sapped all her concentration to the point where she almost ran headfirst into a runner traveling in the opposite direction. He served and they ended up clashing shoulders. Tara stumbled, barely hearing the angry ‘watch where you’re going’ comment thrown back at her.
“Are you okay?” Willow slowed down as Tara regained her footing, even going as far as to put a steadying hand on her shoulder.
The touch was electrifying to her sweaty skin, but Tara angrily yanked her arm away and slowed to a brisk walk. “Yes!” she snapped before suddenly shaking her head. “And no…you just can’t do this to me, Willow!”
“I’m sorry,” Willow also stopped running. Oh my god, I’ve fucked it up already and Faith is going to kick the crap out of me. However, the thought of an arse kicking from Faith paled in comparison to the thought of Tara never wanting to see her again.
Now she no longer had to concentrate so strongly on her running, Tara finally saw the mask slip. The redhead’s green eyes were wide with concern for what she might have done to piss Tara off. She felt a pang of regret at her sudden outburst. Willow had been feeling the same all along; she had merely been more successful at hiding it.
“No, I’m sorry…” Tara began.
“No, this was stupid. I should have just let you continue on your run without interrupting and ruining it.” Willow wiped a few sweaty strands of hair out of her face.
Tara watched her as she did it. At once, she wished that she had thought to do that for Willow. Touching Willow’s face and hair would have been so simple and yet so intimate. She looked away. There was no way that she had the right to do anything of the sort. They weren’t girlfriends, or even ex-girlfriends.
“That’s not quite what I meant,” Tara began to explain as she continued walking. “I don’t care that you interrupted my run, I care that…that you’re here. Standing in front of me.”
“Um, that is kind of the same thing,” Willow replied.
Tara half-grunted in exasperation at herself. “I look like shit okay! I’m sweaty, probably all red in the face…and…you’re here.” The woman of my dreams is here…seeing me like this!
“I’m here…just as sweaty as you and no doubt even redder in the face because of an annoying tendency to turn into a beetroot when I exercise,” Willow said when it was clear that Tara was tongue tied. She drew in a breath and decided to cut to the heart of the matter. “So what’s the problem?”
Tara was slightly taken aback at the bluntness of Willow’s question. “The problem?”
“It’s quite simple, regardless of the fact that neither of us feels as though we’re looking our best - which is bloody ridiculous because hello, the hot sweaty you with the cute little red cheeks is just hot – it comes down to whether you want to see my back running off into the distance or if you want me to be here, beside you.”
Her cheeks flamed at Willow’s inserted comment, and she felt something else flaming as well. It was clear that Willow Rosenberg could turn her on like no one she had ever met before. Just with the simple compliment, Tara wanted to throw her up against the tree they were passing and kiss her senseless.
She drew in a breath and replied meekly. “I don’t know.” Pathetic, Tara. Absolutely pathetic.
“That is a lame response,” Willow said, unknowingly agreeing with Tara’s internal assessment of her reply. She tried another tact. “Come out with me tomorrow night?”
“Willow, I don’t know if that’s such a good…”
Willow shook her head quickly before Tara could finish. “No, you don’t even have to come out with me. Just come to an exhibition launch at the City Gallery tomorrow evening, bring Faith, or bring whoever you want…you don’t even have to feel obliged to talk to me when you get there, just come. That’ll give you time to come up with a better answer to my question than a lame ‘I don’t know.’”
“I’ll think about it,” was all Tara could say.
“Is that as good as answer as I’m going to get?” Willow asked cheekily.
“Yes, it’s as good as you’re going to get.” Tara couldn’t help but let a tiny grin creep onto her face. It was with a little regret that she saw they had reached the yacht club. While she wanted to keep running with Willow, her knees wouldn’t thank her in the morning. “This is me, you can keep going if you want?”
“I might as well turn around with you,” Willow replied as casually as she could. “I mean, it’s not like I’m super fit or anything...and I am kind of hungry.”
“Willow, you don’t have to explain yourself. I’ve forced myself to accept the fact that you’ve now seen me all sweaty and gross. There’s no going back.”
“Well, I have already seen you naked, so it’s not like you’d be taking a step backwards anyway,” Willow replied, speaking before thinking. “Sorry, that just slipped out.”
Tara tried to ignore the comment, but her cheeks were so hot she had to look in the opposite direction. Thankfully, Willow didn’t comment on her silence and the pair of them continued without any further discussion of the one night stand that had started everything. However, while neither girl would talk about it, it was on both their minds.
As far as Willow could recall, Tara had been quite sweaty that night too.
All too soon, they arrived back at the point where Tara had left Faith with her ‘injured’ ankle. As Tara pulled to a gentle halt, Willow continued jogging on the spot for a few moments.
“So, I guess I might see you tomorrow night?”
“I guess you might.”
Willow flashed Tara an adorable grin that almost had her saying she would definitely be there. Then the redhead continued on her way.
“Hi Faith!” Willow said rather brightly as she ran past, continuing on her way. “Take care of that ankle!”
There was something in Willow’s greeting that caused Tara to wonder at the change in the dynamic between her best friend and Willow. As far as she knew, they hardly knew each other. After the initial excitement of Tara’s fling with Willow, Faith had carried a rather healthy resentment towards the arrogant redhead. Something had changed, and it made her suspicious.
She fully expected Willow to glance back over her shoulder. In fact, she found herself waiting for Willow to glance back over her shoulder. With each passing step that she didn’t turn around, Tara felt her heart sink further. She was just about to give up altogether and turn her attention back to Faith when Willow did glance backwards over her shoulder. It was just a quick glance, made all the quicker by the fact she saw that Tara was watching her, but it was enough.
An elated Tara turned around and lifted her eyebrows at the sight of Faith standing effortlessly on both feet. She glanced down at the previously injured ankle and saw that her friend made no effort to hide the fact that she was putting her full weight on it. Her previous suspicions were confirmed.
“You sneaky little toad!” Tara gasped as she came to the realisation of what had just happened. “Willow didn’t just happen to bump into me! You set that up didn’t you?”
“I may have done,” Faith admitted freely. “But my subterfuge is totally beside the point. I’m guessing from Willow’s relatively jovial mood, the absence of tears and that slight spring in your step that it went brilliantly? Well, spill?”
“There’s hardly anything to spill. She asked me to an exhibition launch tomorrow night,” Tara answered casually. “I didn’t make any promises. I told her I might show up.”
“But you are going, right?” Faith asked the question almost as though she were giving an order.
Tara sighed as the tiny shape that was Willow Rosenberg became increasingly hard to see in the distance. “Of course I’m going.”
“You’re going?” Faith was slightly taken aback. She had expected to spend more time convincingly Tara to go. “Okay, you’re going.”
“And you’re coming with me to make up for this little stunt you just pulled,” Tara added.
Faith could only sheepishly agree as she began walking back towards the city. “I’m coming.”
“And thank you.”
“No worries…hang on a sec, why are you thanking me?”
“I don’t know how you did it, or even what made you do it, but I’m glad you did.”
“Well, you were either going to thank me or shoot me!” Faith laughed lightly.
“Now, if your sore foot is up to it, race you back to my place?” Tara suggested.
Faith groaned. “Can’t we just have a leisurely stroll? Maybe stop for a beer?”
“No fucking way, mate. “Tara launched forward into a brisk jog and Faith was forced to follow suit. “I know one run isn’t going to fix months of sitting on the couch but it will sure as hell make me feel better about myself when I’m squeezing into a dress for tomorrow night.”
“Oh god,” Tara gasped as they started running. Everything was finally beginning to sink in. Firstly, there was the fact that she had just had a relatively normal conversation with Willow. Secondly, that she had actually made the decision to go. Despite the dread she felt at the thought of being in a social setting with Willow, she also felt something that could almost be called excitement. “What the hell am I doing?”
“Yeah, T,” Faith added. “What the hell are you doing?”
Tara sighed and admitted something that took Faith completely by surprise, “I love her. I don’t think I’m supposed to know what the hell I’m doing.” She suddenly realised the gravity of her admission and didn’t really feel like running any longer. “Fuck it, let’s go for a beer.”