by EasierSaid » Fri Nov 04, 2011 3:50 pm
Title: Neverland
Author: EasierSaid
Feedback: Yes, please.
Spoilers: None.
Setting: AU. There is no Hellmouth, there is no slayer and no magic of the wicca variety. Just our girls and the rest of the Buffy characters living and loving in that great city by the bay, San Francisco.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Please don't sue me Mutant Enemy.
Notes: Couple of lines from "The Gentlemen" (and shooting script) and "Where the Wild Things Are," plus a handful of familiar references.
Thoughts in italics
PART 64
Three years earlier
"So what's next?"
There was no hesitation in her voice; it was just a simple question spoken with an easy innocence that caused a blushing smile to steal across the blonde's face, and Willow couldn't help but smile herself as she waited for Tara to reply.
"A-Are you hungry?" Tara looked up and slightly squinted, the sun in her eyes as she stood opposite Willow on the museum steps. She replaced her keys in her right front pocket, the little penguin key chain hanging out over the side.
A sheepish smile pulled at Willow's lips as she considered the blonde's question. "We ate at Pork Store this morning, so..."
"...You may never truly be hungry again." The blonde chuckled.
"Pretty much." Willow said as she smiled brightly. "Are you hungry?"
Tara shrugged. "I'm not starving."
The redhead glanced at her watch and then back up. "We should probably eat something though, what with all the walking and it being lunchtime and all."
Tara nodded to her right. "The tea house at the Japanese Tea Gardens has gummy bears."
"Gummy bears just happen to be my favorite bears," Willow replied with a smile. She rocked slightly on the balls of her feet and delighted as the girl across from her lightly laughed.
Tara pressed her lips together to try and diminish the wide grin pulling at her lips. "A-Another option is to walk over to Stow Lake. There's a concession stand that sells stuff like pretzels and pink popcorn."
"Pink popcorn sounds intriguing," Willow said, raising her eyebrows.
"It's molded together and shaped like a brick," Tara elaborated.
"And, slightly disgusting." The redhead pulled a face and then smiled. "Well, I do love pretzels. All, twisty like a Gordian knot." Willow's smile faded a bit. "Or, a pretzel."
Tara lightly chuckled and dipped her head, afraid that her overwhelming joy at the gift Willow had just given her and their easy conversation might start to seem overdone and manic. She looked back up and felt another wide smile pull at her lips. She couldn't help it. Willow made her happy. "So which would you prefer?" She finally asked as she indicated they should start down the steps; the redhead responded by following her as she began descending the stairs. "I think it's like seven dollars to get into the Tea Garden."
"Seven– Pretzels," Willow said quickly as she tried to recover from the price shock. "I mean, I'm sure the garden is really serene and neat and all, but a cover charge to eat gummy bears? No thank you."
The blonde half smiled. "I think the 'admission fee' is for the pagodas and bonsai exhibit."
"And still, no thank you," the redhead said matter-of-factly. "So how far away is the lake?"
"It's just around the corner, maybe a twenty minute walk?" Tara said, nodding to their right. "And when I say lake, it's really more of a largeish pond." They walked away from the stairs, their feet following the asphalt path in front of them.
"Is it naturally occurring or man made?" Willow asked.
"Man made," Tara said, her eyes turned skyward as she coaxed the factoid from the recesses of her mind.
"I knew you'd know," the redhead said with a smile, lightly bumping her shoulder against the blonde's. "Ms. Tour Guide."
Tara blushed. She stole a look at the beaming redhead and quickly turned away, her face flush. The blonde felt her heart racing, and she took a silent, deep breath. Slow down, she cautioned herself. She stole another look and was rewarded with a momentary gift; Willow's unguarded profile as the girl took in the park. The girl's red ringlets framed her face, and a thin necklace sat delicately on her collarbones and sparkled in the sunlight. The blonde turned her eyes forward again and sighed, her brow momentarily knitting. Slow down.
The short walk to the lake passed quickly, the two women chatting amiably about the museum's sights and patrons. They slowed as they came upon the concession stand, a short line of fellow park goers in front of them.
"Busy," Willow said. "I mean, for a work day."
"You should see it on weekends," Tara said. "It can be a total zoo."
The short line moved quickly. Tara caught Willow moving for her wallet as they waited for the man in front of them to order. The blonde briefly placed her hand on the redhead's forearm, stopping her. "Let me buy. For the key chain."
"Pfft," Willow replied with a happy hand flap. "Tiny Jewish Santa doesn't need any paybacks; it was a gift."
"Tiny Jewish Santa?" Tara asked, her eyebrows high on her forehead.
"That would be me," Willow said with a bounce in her step. The man in front of them moved to the side and the two girls stepped toward the cashier. "Cause, on account of the being tiny, and Jewish, and jolly."
Tara rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the vendor. "Two pretzels, please."
"Hungry?" Willow baited, teasing the girl to her right and enjoying the look of amused reproach her comment garnered.
"Anything else?" The man asked.
"Two waters," the blonde added. She paid for the pretzels and water and thanked the man as he handed them to her; she turned and offered a pretzel and water to the redhead, her raised eyebrow daring the girl to turn her down.
The redhead smiled wide. "Twist my arm, why don't you?" She took the offered knot and bottle and turned to the vendor. "Mustard?"
Tara chuckled as the vendor pointed to the end of the stand. Willow smiled, thanked the man and then made her way to the condiment cart. She placed the water on the stainless steel surface and then pumped a glop of mustard along the twisted bread. That done, she took a handful of napkins, tucked them in her pocket and picked the water up. She turned to the blonde and smiled. "Thanks."
"N-No problem," Tara said, dipping her head, her hair falling around her face.
The two women walked to the edge of the lake and briefly watched a paddle boat float by, a man lazily propelling the blue boat forward. They chewed their pretzels in silence, enjoying the sun and company. After a few minutes, Willow turned to the girl to her right. "So what other things go on in the park?"
"Picnics," Tara said, nodding an invitation to walk a little. Willow nodded in return and they slowly started to stroll along the lake's path. "Lots of sports. Concerts. There are fly fishing pools that I like to visit."
"You fish?" Willow asked surprised, bringing her hand up to cover her full mouth as she continued chewing.
"No," the blonde chuckled, amused by the redhead's exaggerated question. She picked at the pretzel in her hand, her bottle of water tucked in the pocket of her pants. "It's just a really beautiful, peaceful place, and the light is really nice sometimes, the sun shining off the casting pools? I like to sit on the benches and sort of, take it all in."
"Sounds nice," Willow said with a soft smile as she ripped off another piece of her pretzel. "Can we go? Or, is that too personal..."
"We can," Tara said with a bright smile. "It's just, sort of far away."
"How far is far?" The redhead asked as she popped the piece of pretzel in to her mouth.
"A mile or so?" Tara replied. "It's in the other half of the park." She looked to her feet as she continued. "We could um, we could walk, I mean, walk the length of the park. I think it's only a couple of miles all together, a-and if we get tired we can always call for a cab at the Beach Chalet instead of walking back." She looked back up and met the redhead's eye.
"What's the Beach Chalet?" Willow asked, her mouth half full, a dob of mustard on the corner of her lips.
The blonde's heart melted at the sight. "It's a restaurant at the end of the park; it's across the street from Ocean Beach."
The redhead swallowed. "Ocean Beach. Not the most original name." Tara smiled and Willow felt giddy. "Sounds like a good plan."
Tara smiled and nodded her head. "You have a little..." The blonde gestured to her own face and Willow immediately wiped at the edge of her mouth.
"Did I get it?" She asked, wiping again for good measure.
"Got it," the blonde confirmed.
They left the lake and started back to JFK Drive.
"So, what do you do for fun, other than school and painting?" Willow asked as she looked to the girl on her right. It felt like a corny question to ask. Partially because it sounded like filler, and partially because she already knew what the blonde liked to do. For the last four years Buffy had been telling the redhead all about the blonde's likes and dislikes, and Willow had passively catalogued the information away. She knew all about the blonde's trips to watch tanker ships sail under the Golden Gate Bridge and her used book shopping in Berkeley. The question felt like a formality, one of those things you ask when you spend time with someone new, yet Willow still found herself eagerly anticipating Tara's answer.
A half smile pulled at the blonde's lips. "I don't know if I'd call school fun, at least, not all of the time." Tara lightly shook her head as she thought about how to answer Willow's question. "I don't know; I read a lot. Listen to music. Hang out with friends." She looked over to the redhead. "How about you?"
"Same," Willow said with a head bob. "I like to watch movies, play video games."
"Same, minus the video games," Tara said with a self-deprecating grin. "I don't have very good h-hand-eye coordination," she explained as she held her hands in front of her and mimicked holding a game controller with her pretzel as a stand-in.
"I highly doubt that," Willow said as she smiled at the blonde's goofy display. It was exaggerated and awkward and adorable.
"No, trust me," Tara said dropping her hands. She pulled the last, small piece of pretzel apart. "I'm really awful at video games." She put the larger of the two pieces in her mouth.
"Maybe, but you definitely are coordinated," Willow countered.
Tara raised her eyebrows in response as she chewed and swallowed.
"You paint," the redhead elaborated. "You have to have some hand-eye coordination to be able to manipulate the brush so it matches the vision in your mind. I mean, unless you paint with your mouth or feet or something, and are mouth/foot-eye coordinated."
Tara lightly laughed. "No, I definitely definitely paint with my hands."
"See? Coordinated," the redhead said with another head bob. She took the last bite of her own pretzel and balled the piece of paper it came with up and stuffed it in her pocket. When she finished chewing, she continued. "And besides, there are lots of video games that don't take much in the way of hand-eye coordination."
Tara shook her head, amazed at the redhead's persistence. She ate her last piece of pretzel and similarly balled and stowed the left over piece of paper in her pocket. As she finished chewing she looked across the street to a meadow where a man tried valiantly to get a kite into the air, a toddler strapped into a stroller watching his actions raptly. The blonde smiled, and caught Willow looking at her profile.
"What?" Willow asked, entranced by the blonde's smile, curious about what had inspired such a serene smile.
"That man over there," Tara said, nodding toward the meadow. "He um, he doesn't seem to be having much luck with that kite."
"Not enough wind," Willow noted.
Tara nodded. "I think he knows that, too, but doesn't want to disappoint his son. It's sweet."
Willow smiled at Tara, warmed by the blonde's observant eye.
They walked a few steps in silence, each lost in their thoughts of the other. Tara stole a look at the redhead and then took a deep breath. "I really like to people watch," she admitted shyly.
"I know," Willow said with a soft smile, remembering a story Buffy told her about Tara and the Ferry Building. She caught Tara's raised eyebrows out of the corner of her eye. "I mean, Buffy told me," the redhead quickly explained. "That you like to go places and just watch people. I think it's neat." Willow blushed as the blonde's brow knit.
"Oh," the blonde said. It caught her off guard to hear that Buffy had talked about her with the redhead. She hadn't thought of that. Of course the petite blonde would. Didn't she talk about Willow with her?
Willow looked anxiously at the blonde's profile. "It's not that we talk about you, I mean, we do, but it's more like, she talks about you because you're such a cool friend and I listen."
Tara blushed furiously. "I don't think that I've ever, um, been described as, 'c-cool', before. Mostly just, 'aw-awkward.'"
"I think you're cool," Willow said, surprised by the blonde's statement. Tara looked up, herself surprised. "You're a great friend, a successful artist–"
"I wouldn't call myself successful," the blonde replied modestly, her face heating up at the compliments.
"Buffy said you had a show this year."
"A student show," Tara emphasized. "It was no big deal."
"It was a big deal," Willow countered. "Buffy said you got a special award and that your professor wanted a painting for a university art exchange."
The blonde's head swam at the attention. She was shocked by how much the redhead knew about her, and to hear her own accomplishments lauded by the girl was overwhelming. "Well what about you," she deflected.
"What about me?" Willow asked innocently.
"Buffy talks about you, too," Tara said. "I mean, MIT, that's pretty big."
"It's just a school," Willow shrugged.
"A school filled with really smart people," the blonde emphasized. "And Buffy said you're at the top of your class."
"She's just– It's not a big deal, I just study hard," Willow said. "And, all the time. Much to the detriment of my very limited social life. I'm definitely nothing special."
"No, you are," the blonde said. She looked Willow in the eye as she spoke and found that despite her considerable embarrassment, she couldn't look away. Some subconscious blast of bravery overtook her and in that moment nothing was more important than the redhead knowing that she was special. Willow's return look softened and Tara immediately looked away, flustered by her forwardness. "See, aw-awkward," the blonde stuttered, a bright blush on her cheeks.
Willow's brow furrowed. She reached out and touched the blonde's arm, stilling her in her tracks. "Tara, you're not awkward." Though her voice was calm, her heart was racing. The blonde thought she was special?
"Well yeah, I s-sort of am," the blonde countered, her head dipped low, her hair obscuring view of a bashful smile on her lips. She looked up and motioned that she thought they should keep walking.
"No, you're not." The redhead squeezed, keeping them stopped. "I mean, granted, I've only spent like five hours with you total in my entire life, but... You're totally cool. And if I think you're cool, you're cool."
"O-Okay," Tara said with an embarrassed nod.
Willow smiled and again squeezed the blonde's arm. She tugged slightly and they once again began walking. After a long moment she spoke. "So, cool girl, why did you come to San Francisco?"
"My mom," Tara said with a soft smile, her face still warm from the redhead's compliments. "I mean, the school, and the art program are fantastic, but, I don't know, my mom was always such a big fan of the city... It just seemed like a place I wanted to experience."
Willow nodded her head. "I'm really sorry, about your mom." She spoke softly, unsure of her words. "Buffy told me."
"Thanks," the blonde said, her smile sincere. "I think she um, I think she would have gotten a big kick out of me going to school here." She paused briefly, memories of her mom floating through her mind. "How about you?" She said as she looked to the redhead. "Why Boston? Or, was there even a choice once you were accepted to MIT?"
"No, there were choices, a lot of choices, actually, but it just seemed like a good fit."
"And was it?"
"For the most part," Willow said. "I like Cambridge a lot. I just don't know if it's a forever kind of place, you know?"
"Cambridge?"
"That's where I live," the redhead breezily replied. "Where MIT is, Cambridge. It's right across the Charles River from Boston."
"Oh." Tara felt silly for not knowing that, and she absently wondered if Buffy knew. She doubted it, as the girl always said Boston.
"How about you?" Willow asked. "Do you think about where you'll go after school?"
"I don't know," the blonde said, her brow momentarily creasing. "I guess I sort of thought I'd probably stay here. I mean, it sort of depends on how the whole, painting-as-a-career thing goes, you know? San Francisco's not the cheapest city to live in."
"As I hear from Buffy frequently," Willow said with a smile.
The blonde nodded. "You um, you said earlier that you're 'probably' starting school in the fall. Why only 'probably?'"
"I have a job offer," the redhead answered. "It's a good offer, a really, generous, offer, but... I don't know." The girl scrunched up her face. "I mean, I don't know if I'm done with school yet, you know? Like maybe I have more to learn still before I go out and join the proverbial rat race."
Tara nodded. "I get that."
"I'm taking a couple of weeks to try and figure it out. See what I want to do." The redhead absently kicked a pebble in her path.
"Is the job in Boston? Er, Cambridge?" Tara corrected, still embarrassed that she didn't know the difference earlier.
Willow shook her head. "Northern Virginia. It's weird; I kind of thought if I didn't stay in Massachusetts I might move back to California when I was done with school, but now there's this completely different option that I have to consider and it's kind of confusing." They walked a few steps. "I like to think of myself as a finisher, and not going to grad school after I had planned to sort of makes me feel–"
"Like a beauty school dropout?"
"Well, when you put it like that..." Willow smiled brightly. "But yeah." They walked in silence for a moment. "I'm actually kinda, freaked out about the whole, work thing." She made eye contact with Tara. "I took this Vocational Aptitude Test in high school. At first I was all curious about what kind of career I could have, but now that I actually have to decide on a career I find myself strangely incapable of meaningful decision making."
"That's understandable," Tara said reassuringly. "Change is hard."
"But not usually debilitating, right?" The redhead asked, her brow deeply creased.
"It can be," Tara admitted. "I mean, I feel that way sometimes."
"Really?"
"Yeah," the blonde admitted.
"But you know what you want to do," Willow replied.
"Sort of," the blonde said, quirking her brow. "I mean, I know I want to paint, but I don't know what that means in reality, and the knowing doesn't mean making the decision to actually do it isn't any less scary."
"I guess so," Willow agreed. "It's just, I don't do scary as a rule. I'm a, color-inside-the-lines kinda gal. And moving to a place I've never even been to do a job that I'm not sure I'm even going to like is über-scary."
"You moved to Cambridge to go to college," Tara led. "That had to be scary."
"But I knew someone there," Willow said, avoiding mentioning Oz by name. "And college was an adventure, so romantic with the big library and classes, full of new things to learn. Work, it feels so dun-dun-DUN and permanent."
Tara nodded. The someone Willow had just referred to was undoubtably Oz; he was a student at the Berklee College of Music, and he had moved with Willow after they graduated from high school. The blonde was surprised by how much the allusion to the redhead's boyfriend bothered her. She swallowed hard before speaking. "It doesn't have to be," she said softly.
"I know," Willow said with a nod. "Anyway," the redhead said with a smile and a sigh. "Thanks for letting me vent."
"Any time," the blonde said with a soft smile as she tried to push her unsettled thoughts away. She stole a quick look at the redhead and her brow further furrowed. She shouldn't be feeling like this.
The redhead looked around. "So where are we now?"
Tara looked up, pulling herself from her thoughts and orienting herself. "We just passed Lloyd Lake," she said as she nodded to her right. "And we're almost to Spreckels Lake. Both are man-made and both are really pond-sized."
"That seems to be an epidemic here."
The blonde smiled, her thoughts turning completely to how charming Willow was. She looked over to the redhead and felt her heart skip a beat. The girl was lovely. "That's Lindly Meadows." She pointed to their left. "Home of the many picnics and sporting events I mentioned earlier."
"Ah," the redhead said in reply, enjoying the tour. She made eye contact with the blonde and noticed not for the first time how blue her eyes were.
"The Polo Fields are on the other side of those trees." Tara again pointed to their left.
"Huh," Willow said. "I didn't know polo was big anywhere except for England and snobby parts of Southern California."
"I don't think it is," the blonde replied with a bright smile. "I think it's mostly used for concerts and soccer tournaments and stuff."
"Cool," Willow said. She saw a trash can and recycled her empty water bottle. Tara followed suit.
"Spreckels Lake is actually pretty cool. It's home to the San Francisco Model Yacht Club. They have boat races and regattas. It's pretty cute."
"Sounds cool," Willow said. They walked for a few minutes in silence before the redhead spoke. "So, are you all done with classes?"
"Sort of," Tara replied. "I still have to turn in a project tomorrow."
"That's exciting."
"Yeah..." The blonde trailed off and looked at her feet. "I don't know if it'll help." She caught Willow's quizzical look as she looked back up. "I think I'm failing my advanced anatomy class."
"You're taking anatomy?" Willow asked, surprised. "Like, with cadavers and stuff?"
"No, oh, no," Tara said, realizing how she had sounded. "Painting, anatomy. D-Drawing the human form, that sort of thing."
"Oh, cause, I was gonna say, 'What's your minor?'" Tara smiled. "So, not going well?" Willow asked.
"I just, can't get it right," the blonde sighed, frustrated. "I try, but the faces come out all weird, and the bodies are blobby."
"Worked for Picasso," Willow said.
"Yeah, but I think if he had to, he could've done it right, you know? And I definitely can't." They walked a few steps. "It makes me nervous that made a mistake, you know, with the whole, painting-as-a-career thing?"
"I'm sure that's not true. Buffy says you're really great."
"Buffy's biased," Tara replied modestly, again marveling at how much the petite blonde had imparted to the redhead.
"Buffy's loyal," Willow countered. "But she's not a liar. I mean, that's not to say she isn't know to tell the odd white lie, or omit things from time to time, but she's honest about the big stuff."
"I guess so," Tara said.
"Oh, okay, case in point," Willow said. "When I was 16 I decided I was going to take up roller blading. And, because helmets and pads were for dorks—and I was desperate to shed my already well-established dork image—I was going to do it with all of my body parts exposed to the hard concrete."
"Um, that doesn't sound safe."
"You have no idea," Willow said wryly. "Anyway, Buffy politely explained that I was, you know, highly uncoordinated and that maybe I should just stick to walking."
A half smile emerged on the blonde's lips. "So roller blading is, 'big stuff,' huh?"
"Roller blading, no," Willow replied with a knowing smile. "My brain spilling out all over the sidewalk in a tragic attempt to look cool, yes."
"You're probably right..." Tara said, looking down.
"How about me?" Willow said cheerfully. "You can show me some stuff later. I promise to be brutally honest."
"Brutally?" Tara said, her brows inching up.
"Okay, maybe not brutally," the redhead quickly backtracked. "I don't know if I'm capable of brutally. But I will be honest. I promise."
"Okay," the blonde said. The thought of showing Willow her art, especially the pieces that she didn't like, made her heart race with a mixture of terror and excitement.
The two girls smiled at each other and then looked away. Tara looked up and nodded to her right. "Spreckels Lake."
They walked to the water's edge, chatting about the group of elderly women practicing Tai Chi to their left and a lone man pushing a tall model ship around the edge of the lake with a pole to their right. They fawned over a group of baby ducklings swimming across the pond diagonally and they enjoyed the warm sun on their backs. After several long minutes of silence, Willow turned to her guide. "So how far to the fishing pools?"
"They're just over there," Tara nodded to their left. "I thought we could go the b-back way. There's a little trail through the trees. It's really pretty."
"Sounds nice," Willow answered with a smile. Tara nodded, a half smile on her lips and they started off, waiting for a car to pass and then crossing the street. After a short walk on the sidewalk, they entered the tree line on a narrow dirt trail, walking single file until the trail widened. "So are there fish in these pools?" The redhead asked, looking to the blonde just to her left.
"No," Tara said. "Just these round, target, things. It's just a place for the fishermen to practice."
"Gotcha."
"I don't know where'd they go to actually catch fish. Maybe Stow Lake..." Tara trailed off as she noticed that Willow had stopped walking. The blonde turned to find the redhead frozen in place a couple feet behind her. "Are... you okay?" Tara slowly asked, looking quizzically at Willow's comically large eyes.
"Horse," the redhead said quietly, doing her best not to panic at the sight of the large, brown beast over Tara's shoulder.
"Horse," Tara repeated, confused.
"Behind you," the redhead whispered through clenched teeth, her wide-eyes trained on the horse standing just beyond a nearby fence.
Tara turned quickly to look and Willow winced, sure that the sudden movement would incite the large animal to charge. "That is indeed a horse," the blonde said with a half smile as she turned back. When the redhead failed to smile, the blonde's face fell. She took in the rigid posture, twisting fingers and wide, green eyes... "Are you, are you afraid of horses...?"
"Who, me?" Willow said, her voice tight and high-pitched, her body struggling to be still despite the urge to flee. "Afraid of horses? Big, tall, teeth-that-could-take-your-arm-off horses?" Tara's eyebrows crept up and Willow sighed, aware of how foolish she must look. "I had a bad birthday party pony thing when I was four. I look at horses, I just see really big ponies and don'tmoveit'smoving!" The redhead froze like a statue.
Tara frowned and turned, looking over her shoulder as the horse nickered and moseyed away in search for some hay. She looked back to Willow, who was holding her breath. "He's gone," Tara said gently, a smile creeping onto her lips.
The redhead deflated, releasing her breath. She reached out and grabbed Tara's hand and lightly tugged as she started to walk past her, hoping the girl would take the hint and follow her away from danger. The blonde's brow quirked as the warm, slender fingers wrapped around her own and it took her a long moment to realize she was being asked to leave. She looked up and took a stuttering step forward as the redhead gently tugged again.
They walked a few steps away from the paddock and Willow exhaled, happy to be out of sight of the horses. She smiled widely at the blonde and squeezed her hand once before letting go. Tara's skin felt like it was on fire as her hand was released.
"I promise I'm not crazy," Willow said. "It's just, they're so big, and the teeth, did I mention the teeth? Cause they're big, too."
"You just need to spend some time with one," the blonde said, subconsciously flexing her fingers and turning to look at the now-relaxed girl next to her. "I learned to ride when I was a kid, a real sweetie named Gray. She was, gray. She used to look in my coat for carrots before rides."
"Sounds nice," Willow said, her heart softening at the thought of a younger Tara hiding carrots in her pockets. Her smile faded when she remembered the horse that went looking for said carrots. "And, completely terrifying."
Tara smiled at the concerned look on the redhead's face. "Not terrifying at all; it was endearing. And you know, most horses don't like arm very much."
"It's the ones that do that spoil it for the rest of 'em," Willow said with a resolute head nod. The blonde shook her head, amused.
"You should ride with me some time," Tara said, the words out of her mouth before she could evaluate them. "I um." She looked to her feet before looking back up and catching Willow's kind green eyes waiting for her to continue. "I g-guarantee safety and fun."
Willow did a gentle double take, her voice hesitant. "Gee, that sounds super fun..."
"But..." Tara lead, a smile emerging on her lips at the redhead's hesitancy.
Willow blushed and dropped her head. She looked up with a soft smile and lightly shook her head. "Are we going the right way?"
Tara smiled widely. "Coward."
"And darn proud of it," Willow said, reaching out and again grabbing Tara's hand. She swung their arms and giggled before reaching up and locking arms with the girl at the elbow. "So are we going the right way?"
"It's j-just through h-here," Tara said, her heart beating wildly as the redhead snuggled into her side. They followed the path through the trees and emerged alongside a simple brown cabin. The blonde smiled, reveling in the feeling of Willow on her arm. "The Anglers' lodge," she explained, pointing to the building with her free hand. "It was built in the '30s as a WPA project. Come on." She nodded to the side and took Willow's hand. They walked hand-in-hand for a step toward a sloping asphalt path before letting go to once again walk single file. They emerged in an open space, three large, shallow pools of water sunk below them. Tara smiled over her shoulder before leading Willow down a gradual flight of stairs.
The redhead grinned as she looked around. It was lovely. The pools were far from pristine, the shallow concrete trays were muddy and murky like ponds, but Willow instantly understood their appeal. She fascinated over how the pools were dissected into grids, the placement of colorful round targets set just above the water's surface appearing both random and planned at the same time.
They walked to the first pool's edge. Before either girl could speak, a voice called out to them from the distance. "Where's your sketchbook?"
Tara squinted in the light and smiled when she saw where the voice was coming from. An old man stood alongside the far pool with his pole, and he smiled as he started to reel in his line.
"I'm s-sightseeing today," Tara said in a friendly tone. She didn't know the man's name, but recognized him from countless other days' greetings.
"Want to try today?" The man asked in a way that was obviously not the first time as he extended his hand and pole.
"N-Not unless you want to lose an eye," the blonde replied good-naturedly and Willow smiled softly at the reply.
"How about your friend?" The man asked, turning to Willow.
"Not unless you want to lose two eyes," the redhead deftly replied and the man chuckled as Tara beamed.
"Peas in a pod, I see," he said as he started to dismantle his rod. "Well you girls have a good afternoon."
"You too," Tara said with a small nod. She turned to Willow and pointed toward a green bench on the far side of the middle pool sitting under a stand of trees. "Wanna sit down?"
"Sure," the redhead replied with a soft smile, marveling at how well the day was going. They made their way along the concrete path to sit down. Once to the bench they sat in silence as the man packed up, and both girls waved as he said goodbye and left. Soon, they were alone.
"I see why you like it here," the redhead finally said. "It's really pretty. Peaceful. You almost forget you're in the city."
Tara nodded. "It's really beautiful closer to sunset if the fog hasn't rolled in. The pools throw off this almost, decadent, warm light. It's um, it's sort of what I imagine being in a honey jar would look like."
"I like that," Willow said, relaxing into the bench. They sat still for a long time, enjoying the birds, the light and each other.
After a long spell, Tara spoke. "Do you um, do you have a place?"
Willow nodded, understanding the blonde's question. "Not as pretty as this, though."
The blonde turned her full attention to the other girl on the bench. "Tell me about it?" She asked, her voice quiet and interested.
The redhead hesitated and then smiled, nervous yet excited to share something with the blonde that she'd never shared with anyone else before. "There's this chair in a library on campus," she started. "It's back behind some stacks; nobody ever uses it. It's kind of lumpy." She smiled. "But whenever I sit in it, it's like, I'm in my own little world. All tucked away, surrounded by musty, old books. It's kind of romantic."
"Sounds like it," Tara said with a soft smile. The twinkle in the redhead's eye was infectious.
"I can't tell you how many hours I've spent curled up in that chair," Willow said, unwilling to look away from the blonde's steady gaze. "I've sort of been trying to figure out how I can steal it after I graduate." She smiled.
Tara lightly chuckled and looked away as they settled back into silence, each girl stealing looks at the other as they memorized the color of the leaves on the trees, and watched the sun shine off the water before them. After another long moment, Willow spoke, her eyes watching as her hand picked at the seam of her pants. "So what do you think about Riley?" She looked up and met the blonde's eye. "I mean, not that you have to share or anything if that's too personal a question or you're friends with him and it's weird."
"He's nice," Tara said with a smile. "Very–"
"All-American?" Willow finished.
"I was going to say genuine," the blonde said with a half smile. "But he's that, too. What do you think?" She asked, cocking her head to the side slightly.
"What you said, nice," the redhead said. "But I only got to spend a little time with him yesterday, so, apart from Buffy incessantly talking about him on the phone, in email and on IM the last few months, that's pretty much all I know." She paused as she figured out how to word her next thought. "I had this urge yesterday to pull him aside and tell him if he ever hurt Buffy I'd hunt him down and beat him to death." Tara chuckled and the redhead's eyebrow rose. "Not that I think he would hurt her, and not that I would, you know, with the beating, it's just, after everything that happened with Angel and Parker, she deserves to be happy."
Tara nodded. "I t-totally agree." She paused. "I think they're good together."
"Yeah," Willow said. "I'm actually surprised he isn't coming to Sunnydale with us. You know, since they're all, joined-at-the-hip-py."
"Yeah," Tara said. "I think um, I think his advisor has him on a pretty tight leash right now, and what with him wanting to finish his studies sooner rather than later..."
"Yeah..." Willow trailed off. She glanced over at the blonde and a thought hit her. "Why don't you come," she blurted out.
"Me?" Tara asked, surprised.
"Yeah," Willow said, turning to face the blonde. "Your classes are done after tomorrow, right? Oh, it'd be fun!"
"I, I can't," the blonde said apologetically. "I'm actually going home in a couple of days." She briefly hesitated. "M-My dad's sick, so..."
"Oh," Willow said, embarrassed as the conversation took a somber turn. "Tara, I'm sorry, I didn't–" She winced apologetically. "Buffy didn't tell me–"
"It's okay." Tara nodded, gently resting her hand over Willow's before removing it. "I um. I haven't really talked to her about it much, recently. We've both been so busy with finals..." She looked up and sighed. "My brother called yesterday and..." The blonde trailed off and looked down at her hands, loosely clasped on her lap.
Willow looked at the girl's profile, her face obscured by blonde hair. She frowned slightly, her heart aching for the girl to her left. She reached out her hand and gently brushed it along the blonde's arm. Tara looked up. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Tara's brow knit. "I don't know if there's much to talk about," she said honestly. "I sort of feel like I don't know what's going on because I'm here, and they're there..." She sighed, again looking at her hands. "We haven't exactly been close the last few years, since my mom died..." She trailed off. "My brother's taking my dad's illness really hard, and–" She paused slightly. "I just feel like I should be there. To help. If I can."
"Of course," Willow said softly.
There was a long pause. "You know, it's so different, than when my mom was sick?" Tara said. "I was there for everything. All of the doctor's visits and..." She sighed. "Everything." She paused. "And with my dad, it's like... It doesn't feel real." She looked up to find Willow's kind eyes on her. The blonde looked away. A long moment of silence sat heavy between them. "I feel guilty s-some times because I'm not more upset that he's sick." She looked back up and met the redhead's even gaze.
"It probably just hasn't sunk in," the redhead offered softly. "Like you said, with the distance..."
Tara nodded. Her brow deeply furrowed as she thought about Willow's words. "You know, when my mom got sick... It happened so fast. She had trouble sleeping, she was achy. For a whole year she thought she had arthritis, or was sore from overdoing things, but it was cancer."
Willow winced, unseen by the blonde. Bone cancer. Her mom likely had bone cancer, and it was likely secondary to another, more aggressive cancer in her body. The redhead knew from her senior year research work with the university's mammography program how fast cancers like breast cancer could metastasize to a patient's bones, and how devastating the results could be. Sleeplessness because of achy bones was a textbook sign. She waited for the blonde to continue.
Tara took a deep breath before speaking. "Five months. She only had five months after they told her." She looked over to Willow. "And it was the longest five months..." Tears started to well up in her eyes. "She went down hill so fast, and then just..." She brushed her hand across her face, catching tears as they started to fall. "I'm sorry."
She looked up in surprise when she felt Willow move closer to her and take her hand from her lap. The redhead rubbed her thumb in small circles over the back of the blonde's hand. "Don't be," Willow said softly.
Tara nodded and the tears started to build. "I haven't cried about my mom in a really long time." Willow just nodded. Tara's face screwed up. "And I haven't cried about my dad at all." She felt the redhead squeeze her hand and the blonde pushed her lips together in an attempt to keep some semblance of composure. "I think about her so much, every time I see the Golden Gate Bridge, or hear a Fleetwood Mac song, but before my brother called a couple of days ago I hadn't thought about my dad in weeks..." Tears fell freely from her eyes. "I had almost forgotten he was sick." She ducked her head, her hair obscuring her face. "I feel like a horrible daughter." She couldn't hold back the tears; she leaned forward and cried, her free hand covering her face.
Willow's heart ached. After a long moment, she reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind the blonde's ear and then brushed her hand along the back of her head and down her spine until her fingers made small circles on the middle of her back. It was far too intimate a gesture considering what they were; Willow knew it, but she couldn't stop herself. The blonde's sobs broke her heart, and she wished she knew the woman better so that she could scoop her up and hold her on that park bench. But they weren't friends, they were barely acquaintances, so she kept hold of the girl's hand and lightly rubbed her back as the blonde's crying began to ebb. The redhead brushed her hand over the blonde's soft hair again before returning to the small circles on her back. Tara's breath hitched, another sob surprising her and once again it killed Willow that she couldn't do more. The enormousness of the feeling swelled inside her and then collapsed, settling deep in the pit of her stomach. She again tucked a lock of Tara's hair behind her ear, and ran her hand down to her back.
Tara felt the redhead move closer before she saw it, and the feeling of Willow's hand gently running down her back had opened the floodgates. She thought about her mom, thought about how rapidly she had declined, how slowly she had wasted away and how fractured her family had become after the woman had finally passed. It broke her heart, for the thousandth time, it broke her heart and she struggled with what her father's eventual death would do to her, to her brother. Because he would die. Maybe not this year, or the next, but soon. His health had been failing for years now and the doctors were now convinced that his weakened heart would eventually give. Maybe months, maybe years... but sooner than a man his age should. Tara's face contorted and she took a deep breath. She shouldn't be thinking these things right now.
"I'm so s-sorry," she said, embarrassed as she wiped the tears from her face. As her tears began to subside she became acutely aware of the gentle pressure from the redhead's fingers on her back.
"Don't be," Willow said again, as she gingerly removed her hand from the blonde's back. "You're going through a lot."
Tara nodded and sniffled, instantly missing the redhead's comforting touch. It had been confusing and wonderful. Her brow furrowed, and she noticed that Willow still held her hand. She reached into her pocket with her free hand for a tissue and sighed in frustration when all that emerged was the piece of paper that had come with her pretzel. She looked up in surprise when Willow handed her a napkin. "Thanks," the blonde said. She self-consciously wiped at her cheeks and then blew her nose.
"I always take too many," the redhead said sheepishly. "Do you want another one?" She held it out and Tara took it with a small smile.
"Thanks." She sighed. She was beyond embarrassed. Who does this? She just fell apart on a park bench with a woman she barely knew yet was insanely interested in. She bit her lip and then looked down at the crumpled napkins in her hands.
Willow looked to the blonde and then away. She felt for the girl. The blonde was obviously embarrassed, though she needn't be. The redhead looked around, her eyes falling on some white writing on the ground nearby. She laughed quietly.
Tara looked up.
"You know, it's funny," Willow said with a soft smile on her lips. "The writing on the ground there?" She pointed. "'No Skating.' If it were Boston I'd have thought they meant on the pools once they froze over for winter."
The blonde smiled broadly, her eyes still rimmed red. "No chance of that here."
Willow nodded. "Perk of living in California."
Tara nodded in return.
A moment passed. "Are you okay?" The redhead asked gently. She squeezed the blonde's hand reassuringly, and her stomach fluttered when the blonde's blue eyes looked up and met her gaze.
"Yeah," Tara said. "Thank you."
"Of course," Willow replied. They sat still on the bench for a while, holding hands and looking at the pools. After a long moment, Tara stood and tugged at the redhead's hand.
"Come on, I have something else to show you."
*************************************************************
Willow stood still, a perplexed look on her face as she looked at the large, fenced-in meadow. "What?"
"I know," Tara replied gleefully.
"I mean, what?" The redhead repeated flabbergasted as she looked side-to-side, taking in the pens' residents.
"Bison," Tara explained. "I think there are five or six..."
"But, why?" Willow asked. She scanned the meadow for the woolly lumps, and marveled as one stood and started to slowly lumber toward the far fence.
Tara shrugged. Willow made eye contact and questioningly raised her brows. "It's admittedly a little random," the blonde allowed.
"A little?" Willow asked rhetorically, her brows raised. "And they just hang out?"
"Yup," Tara replied, smiling. "And occasionally have babies, I think."
"I feel like I should say something like, 'Well now I've seen everything,' but people who say things like that in movies tend to die right after, so–"
"Probably best not to say it, then."
Willow smiled at the blonde's advice. "Now where?"
"This way," Tara said, nodding to their left.
They walked along the tree-lined avenue at a leisurely pace, past a pond and golf course, enjoying the intermittent rays of sunshine and their easy conversation. Occasionally a jogger would pass, and Tara thrilled every time Willow guided her to the side with a touch. They talked about little things, like how Tara wished she was two inches taller, and silly things, like how Xander once drank an entire gallon of Gatorade without taking a breath to impress a girl in the seventh grade. The conversation was random and relaxed, and both girls enjoyed it immensely.
After a long while, Willow bounced slightly and pointed. "Hey, there's the ocean. And... Is that a windmill?" Tara smiled widely. She reveled in the look of confused wonder on the redhead's face. The blonde gently pulled at the sleeve of Willow's shirt.
"Come on."
Peaking through the branches of the Monterrey Cyprus lining the grand avenue was a wooden windmill, and as they walked closer it seemed to grow in stature. At a break in the trees, Tara slowed them to a stop. "Queen Wilhelmina's Garden."
"Wow," Willow said as she stepped slightly toward the garden, her face lighting up at the close-up view of the wooden windmill and the beds of flowers alongside it; white lobelia, red geranium and purple posies organized in a dizzying patchwork of color. There was a decorative center bed in the middle of a large green lawn, an a sculpted hedge as a border. The garden was carved out of the surrounding wind-swept cyprus trees, and it felt like an oasis. "It's like something out of a fairytale."
Tara nodded, smiling as Willow's green eyes soaked in the beautiful surroundings. "In early spring the beds are full of tulips; a lot of people call it the 'tulip garden.' It's really beautiful."
"That sounds really nice..." the redhead trailed off. Her face scrunched up regretfully. "I wish I could have seen it."
Tara brushed her hand on Willow's arm, inviting the girl to follow her. They moved to the far side of the garden along side the sculpted hedge. "Sit down."
"Okay," Willow said, parking it on a patch of grass. She held out her hand and helped the blonde to sit next to her.
"Thanks," Tara said, sitting next to the redhead and taking a deep breath. "Okay. Look over there, to that bed in the back. See?" Willow nodded. "Orange tulips, with pointy yellow tips." The redhead smiled. "And over there, perfect yellow cups with red stripes." The blonde made eye contact and smiled. "In the center bed, white tulips surrounded by pink. But not ordinary pink. The special ones that look like stars with the fringy edges." The girls shared a smile. "What do you see?"
"Hmm," Willow said as she scanned the garden. "Purple." She pointed the an area between a large pine tree and the windmill. "With a little red mixed in." Her brow crinkled. "That would probably look funny, huh?"
"Not at all," Tara said. "Purple and red are analogous colors." Willow's brow knit, as she was unfamiliar with the term. "T-They're next to each other on the color wheel," Tara explained. "It m-means they 'go.'" She smiled brightly. "It's actually a really pretty combination."
"Well go me," Willow said, smiling proudly in return. She turned from the girl and took in the tall windmill set against the blue sky. After a long moment appreciating the odd, enchanting sight, she turned back to Tara. "Thanks for bringing me here."
"No problem," the blonde replied shyly.
The two looked at each other and smiled before self-consciously looking away. They watched as tourists walked the grounds and as sea gulls occasionally flew over head. After ten minutes or so, Willow laid down and propped her head up on an arm. Tara followed suit and the two girl rested in the sun. "So, tell me everything you know about the windmill, Ms. Tour Guide," Willow said, and Tara chuckled next to her.
"Um, you remember that statue we saw over by the museum, the one of Don Quixote?"
Willow nodded. "Yeah."
"That doesn't have anything to do with the windmill," the blonde said with a giggle. She looked over to the redhead, expecting to find the girl rolling her eyes at her or starting at her dumbly, but the redhead was beaming at her. Tara's heart lurched.
"Ha ha," Willow said, delighting in the blonde's odd humor. She reached over and took the blonde's hand in her own. She gently shook their clasped hands together and then rested them on her stomach. "I'm serious though. Enlighten me."
Tara nodded silently, her heart beating out of her chest. She ventured another look at the redhead and was rewarded with a soft smile. She couldn't look away, and was surprised when Willow didn't look away. The blonde took a slow steady breath and then smiled, the redhead's smile growing as well. For a long moment, they were the only two people in the garden.
Tara cleared her throat and looked skyward, a bright blush overtaking her cheeks. She felt Willow reassuringly squeeze her hand and with a soft smile she began to tell the girl everything she knew about the old Dutch Windmill.
Last edited by
EasierSaid on Wed Jan 11, 2012 4:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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). I never thought then that I would be still doing this 7 years later. But you would have probably thought that it was finished by now. 
You portray the different personalities of Willow and Tara so well! I anxiously await another update!!! 
Soon? Yes? I just wanted you to know that I was reading this fic for a long time and fell in love with it and joined the Kitten Board just to tell you how amazing your writing is!!!
).
And yay for Elbow! And Sufjan Stevens! And Kings of Convenience! All great, I love them so much. Thanks Helena - hope you enjoy this next bit. p.s. The new Elbow is awesome, right? Love, love, love it. 
) because the length intimidated me. Well, it's time to get reading - I see that now! *resolve face on* 
