DISCLAIMER: Don’t hurt me, Joss, I’m just building perty sandcastles in the cracks in the sidewalk of the Buffyverse… and making with the W/T smoochies.
PAIRING: W/T
TIMELINE/SPOILERS: Takes place S4, mid- “The ‘I’ In Team.”
RATING: PG-13 for smoochies.
DISTRIBUTION: Not just yet. I might do a lil more revising. I'm the sentence nazi.
SUMMARY: A prequel to “Vixens.” Willow and Tara start to come to an understanding.
“Something,” by Dumbsaint
Surprised that someone would be knocking on her door at this hour, or at all really, Tara had startled at the noise and now rose to answer it.
“Willow,” she started, her face brightening as she recognized her late caller.
Offering Tara a contrite smile, the redhead began to speak haltingly, a little unsure of herself. “Funny thing happened with my prior social engagement. Pretty much ended when a friend of mine went off to do something with… another crowd she hangs out with.” Willow paused for a moment and rolled her eyes self-deprecatingly. “Irony is kind of ironic that way.”
A hopeful expression appeared on Tara’s face, her gaze tentative but holding to steadily to Willow’s.
“Anyway,” Willow continued, fidgeting slightly, “I know it’s late, but I thought… I mean, if you still wanted to… do something.”
Her mouth twisting upwards into a shy smile, Tara opened the door wider, invitingly so, and a grinning Willow entered. Brushing past the blonde as she closed the door behind them, Willow caught the scent of her, orangey, and a little bit of vanilla. She breathed it in deeply and stopped in the middle of the room, looking around. She’d been here before, but struck by a sudden, inexplicable wave of shyness, she searched the walls anew for something to draw her attention. Something to comment on maybe.
“So did you w-wanna…” Tara began, hesitating a moment as Willow’s eyes met her own again. The slight charge that passed between them was distracting and Tara found herself forgetting what she had been about to say. It ran through her like an electrical current searching her skin for an outlet. “Um,…” Tara made the attempt to finish her original thought, but was simply at a loss as she continued to gaze into the emerald depths of Willow’s eyes. Unconsciously, she took a step closer to the redhead.
Her bout of timidity momentarily forgotten, Willow smiled warmly back at Tara. She found herself moving close as well. The gap between them came quickly to a close, and the two stood toe to toe, grins ever widening.
“We could, um,…” Willow took one of Tara’s hands in her own, interlacing their fingers, “do a… um,…”
Tara drew a shaky breath as Willow’s fingers connected with hers, and then she gave a long, slow sigh. The energy that had been coursing restlessly all through her, it quieted, achieving a steady ebb and flow instead of surging, crackling up and down against the inside of her skin in hot rivulets. Its course had been frustrated. Incomplete. But now- …she felt like one of those little glass orbs with an electric current running through it. The power merely crackling around in the center, agitated, hunched in on itself and unable to act until someone touched it and drew out tiny, purple veins of lightning that made your skin prickle and the hair on your arms stand on end.
“Hey,” Willow said softly, calling Tara back into the present. “Where’d you go?”
Tara’s absentee expression gave way to one of her soft smiles. “Hmm?” She gave Willow’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Just… here.”
“Yeah,” Willow said, her voice quietly appreciative. Inwardly she marveled at the sensation of this simple touch. It seemed to get stronger each and every time now... “I-” feel it, too. She couldn’t quite say it, though she ached to. Apparently she didn’t have to.
“Me, too,” Tara ventured, her eyes intently focused on Willow’s face. There was something so open in Tara’s gaze. There was uncertainty, and fear, but also something so achingly tender in the way Tara looked at her. Such softness, and behind that hidden and untapped depths of strength. Like sugar melting on hot metal, in that unwavering azure regard.
Trying to read me like a book, Willow thought, smiling to herself. And I bet you could.
The intensity of the moment was broken as Willow gasped, only then noticing the variety of random articles about the room that were levitating around them. “Oh! Tara look!”
In the surprise of this discovery, their hands slipped apart. As the contact was broken the floating items started to waver and fall.
“Whoa!” Tara cried out just as Willow reached hastily to recapture her fingers, clasping them tightly. That seemed to do the trick, causing everything to stabilize once more. Tara stared at their joined hands now, conflicting emotions flickering across her face. “It- it’s okay, Willow,” she said hurriedly, seeming apologetic all of the sudden for the continued tactile contact between them. “There’s not anything breakable-“ she started to slip her hand out from Willow’s grasp, but the redhead only held more tightly to her, smiling almost coyly.
“No,” Willow put as much reassurance into her voice as she could. “Tara, it’s wonderful!” She laughed, delighted, craning her neck to get a better look around at the kinetic display before turning back to look into the pair of reticent blue eyes before her. “Look at what we did. And we didn’t even know we were doing it.”
Tara seemed unsure just a moment longer, sparing another nervous glance at their hands before relaxing visibly. “Yeah, it is kind of neat, isn’t it?”
Willow nodded, excitedly. “Nothing breakable, huh?” The redhead giggled and shot a mischievous expression Tara’s way.
Grinning back, Tara asked, “Yeah, why?”
Willow reached with her free hand for Tara’s remaining one, and moved so that they stood very close together, facing each other, both hands held upward, palm to palm. “Watch the stuff and see what happens,” Will suggested. “We’ll be all scientisty and do an experiment.”
“Aren’t you going to be watching, too?” Tara prompted, catching the redhead’s eye.
“Uh huh,” Willow replied absently. ‘Cept I’ll be watching you, she neglected to add. “Now watch!” she commanded.
Quickly sliding her fingers down over Tara’s hands she broke contact for just a moment, the levitating articles dutifully starting to drop, but they bounced up again as though held by an elastic string as Willow began to flutter her fingertips, ticklingly, along the skin of Tara’s palms. The blonde witch giggled and squirmed, but a mock-stern rebuking look from Willow kept her from protesting too much or pulling away. Tara was also too busy watching her t-shirts, stuffed animals, and a few little votive candles twitch and turn, and spin about in midair.
“Is it working?” Willow asked, changing the pressure of her touch on Tara’s hands. Now she caressed her palms in slow, downward sweeping motions, trailing her fingers down the blonde’s forearms for good measure.
“Yes, you’re causing my belongings to do their take on ‘The Nutcracker Suite.’” Tara smirked. “Hey, I thought you were supposed to be watching, too?” A slight flush had begun to creep up the back of Tara’s neck and she craned it briefly, trying to stretch it away. Willow’s touch was starting to affect her in ways that she wasn’t sure yet were what the redhead intended. She could feel the other girl’s gaze on her skin, fluttering over her like a second pair of hands.
“All in good time, my pretty!” Willow cackled, teasing her. “Enough ballet, let’s see if we can get them to swing dance- oooh! Or mosh even,” she enthused, sliding one hand down Tara’s waist and tickling her there, too. Turned out that that spot was particularly volatile as Tara responded with an instantaneous shriek, grabbing at Willow’s hands and giggling madly. Grinning like a madwoman, the blonde witch hauled Willow’s slighter body against her own, holding her arms so that she couldn’t do any more damage to her painfully ticklish torso. Willow let her head fall onto Tara’s shoulder, chuckling, not the slightest bit repentant. Tara let one of the girl’s arms fall, bringing her hand up to smooth Willow’s hair. Her other arm slid around Willow’s waist, and she found herself holding on to her- tenderly but firmly. She didn’t give herself time to be scared, or to anticipate being pushed away. It just felt right to have this woman in her arms at precisely this moment. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but swallow anxiously when she felt one of Willow’s arms wrap around her as well, pressing her close. The hacker’s other hand came up to rest on her collarbone, very near to where her face was buried against Tara’s throat.
They swayed together slowly, both silent for a moment before Willow asked, comforted and quieted by Tara’s touch, “What are they doing now?”
Tara looked down and saw that the girl’s eyes were closed. Her breath was coming unevenly.
“Slow dancing,” she answered her softly, her mouth right next to Willow’s. Recognizing how close their lips were, but not opening her eyes, Willow parted her lips slightly, a wistful sigh escaping them. Her hold on Tara’s waist tightened, fingers pressing her flesh more insistently and dipping under the bottom of the shirt she wore to graze her skin.
“Tara,” she whispered. It was a question, a gentle entreaty.
The blonde witch answered her with her lips, brushing them ever so gently against Willow’s. Searchingly, they moved against one another with an exquisite tenderness that left both breathless after mere moments.
Through the haze that had come over her, Willow opened her eyes and met Tara’s inquiring gaze. The blonde was looking at her with an expression of sweetly vulnerable longing, her lips still parted in surprise. She appeared to be trying to form the ‘w’ to say Willow’s name, but didn’t seem able to quite get there. Will brought one hand to Tara’s face, stroking her cheek tenderly.
An answering pressure on her free hand appeared as Tara recaptured it, copying Willow’s earlier caressing motions before letting their fingers entwine once more. The wistful look of hope on the girl’s face was almost more than Willow could bear, like she still desperately wanted to believe that this was really happening but couldn’t, or thought Willow would change her mind any second now and bolt from the room.
Willow slowly brought their clasped hands to her mouth, turning Tara’s in her own, and without breaking their eye contact, brushed her lips against the soft skin that covered Tara’s palm. Still tentative, but starting to draw courage from Willow’s touch, from the unwavering, silent message that she was wanted, Tara continued the downward sweep of her hand, running her fingers searchingly across Willow’s lips and letting them linger there, tracing their shape. The redhead kissed those, too, smiling even as she did so, her eyes radiating adoring reassurance.
And then it happened. Some inner switch seemed to flicker on behind Tara’s eyes, its reach extending down into the upturned corners of her mouth as her smile started to show itself in slow gradations. Her face lit up, incandescent with joy as the acceptance of what had just happened, what was still happening set in. She let her fingers trail downward along Willow’s jaw and then back up again, threading them through tendrils of copper red hair that she smoothed behind Willow’s ear. So many times before tonight she had longed to do this, just to make this simple gesture of affection, but she hadn’t dared.
And here was Willow, standing before her, as close as she had ever wished her to be, smiling, encouraging her, wanting her.
With a slight whimper, Tara leaned forward and kissed her again. Willow moved against her with a barely restrained hunger, neither of them quite trusting themselves yet to give free reign to the mounting passion they felt. But still, Willow moved her body in closer, pressing herself into Tara’s flesh. Her other arm came up over Tara’s shoulder, tangling gently in her hair. Tara’s hands cupped Willow’s face as they kissed and kissed until, breathless and panting slightly, they broke apart, arms and hands still clutching, caressing.
Willow pressed her cheek into Tara’s touch, into the hands that traced her skin in delicate patterns, almost reverently. “Can I stay tonight?” she asked, her tone wistful. “I want-“ she saw the tiniest bit of nervousness in Tara’s eyes, and couldn’t help but smile, thought she felt that, too. “I want to fall asleep in your arms,” she confessed, both hands dropping to encircle Tara’s waist. “And wake up there, too.”
“Yes,” Tara spoke, finally, her radiant smile fixed in place. “Yes, stay. I- I want you to stay.” She captured Willow’s lips again with her own, unable for the moment to stop kissing the girl she adored.
Fifteen minutes later they were snuggled close under the covers, Willow’s head pillowed on Tara’s shoulder. Hands still caressed skin, silkenly trailing fingertips shyly exploring the curves of collarbones, jawlines, all the intricately shaped places where shoulders joined necklines. They lay like that, rediscovering the simple joys of touch and exchanging lazy kisses for a small eternity, before finally drifting off into sleep, both resting assured that something powerful had been started in motion that evening. Something almost too precious to hold or hope for, but impossible to deny. It lay between them now, a gentle trickle that would grow into a stream, that would swell into a river, overrunning everything in its path. Something was begun, and both slept on, tucked into it and each other, dreaming of tomorrow.
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"That'll put marzipan in your pie plate, bingo!"
[This message has been edited by Dumbsaint (edited October 20, 2001).]