Fic: Final Exam

[tommo]

Title: Final Exam
Rating: NC-17. It's really NC-17. No, it really is.
Copyright Disclaimer: Joss...blah blah...Mutant Enemy...blah blah...but I own the naughtiness and I always, always will.
Notes: This is set in an alternate universe during Season 3. Let's go on the premise that Faith never came to Sunnydale (negating her hotness, bleh). Instead, there's a new student at Sunnydale High and her name is Tara Maclay. And that's it.
Author's Note: I said I wasn't writing any more fic. But I was persuaded by the chat ho's to do this one. Bearing in mind my present attitude, heh, it's not so much story as plenty of smut and a touch of romance....

Enjoy.

Part 1

Willow tapped her pencil against the open book on her desk, watching as the thin metal strip at the top of the pencil caught the light streaming in through the window near to her. She leaned back in her chair a little more, stretching out her legs underneath the desk, and casting a look over at the figure of Buffy at the desk next to her. The Slayer turned, meeting Willow’s eyes and grinned, raising her gaze heavenward and pressing her forefinger against the solid shape of the watch on her wrist. Smiling back, Willow offered a little shrug as compensation and returned her gaze to the table at the front of the classroom, where Mrs. Greenbaum sat in precise angles. The substitute teacher had stepped neatly into their class and given out a stack of books. She had written several page numbers on the chalk board, and then sat down, thoroughly engrossed in her own studies.

The pencil tapped ever more quickly on the page in front of her. Willow sighed at the open book. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to learn; she had quite willingly given out the text books and had made a real effort with the whole opening to the correct page thing. But she had to admit it; the silence of the class was driving her crazy. And she knew it wasn’t just her. In front of her, she could see Xander’s foot jiggling agitatedly underneath his desk; well that wasn’t out of the ordinary. To her right, Buffy’s gaze was firmly fixed on the bright sunny day outside, a faraway look across her face.

Pressing her lips together, Willow blinked slowly. There was something wrong. High School was normally the highlight of her day; well, that and seeing Buffy and Xander. But today…it just felt like she didn’t have a handle on things like she normally did. She’d even fumbled giving the books out, dropping one foolishly by the feet of the new girl, sitting a few rows back. The new girl had grinned at her, showing what Willow thought were cute crinkles around her piercing blue eyes. Blushing, Willow had turned away from that gaze and rushed back to her own seat.

She’d wanted to welcome the new girl properly; she’d even made a little welcome card. But when push came to shove, she hadn’t had the guts to approach her in the dining hall that morning. Instead, she’d exchanged nervous smiles with the blonde, both of them clearly unwilling to make the first move and talk to one another. Xander, being typically Xander, had leered over the girl’s hotness and Buffy had wondered what on earth anyone was doing moving to Sunnydale and the Hellmouth. And that had been that, Willow sighed to herself. No new friend.

The pencil she was tapping hit the book at an odd angle and bounced out of her fingers, twirling in the air and bumping off the edge of the table to clatter onto the floor. Mrs. Greenbaum glanced up, her thin lips drawing together before her gaze returned to her book once more.

Frowning at herself, Willow leant over the side of the chair and reached around in back of her for the offending pencil. Scrabbling on the tiled floor, she grasped hold of the pencil and pulled it towards her. As her head lifted, she caught sight of the new girl looking at her. The blonde’s face curled into another of those wonderfully warm smiles and her eyes softened into a sky blue that Willow felt reach into her mind. She couldn’t help smiling back, a faint flush working its way over her cheeks as she enjoyed the little moment between them.

Hoisting herself back up into her chair, Willow’s smile spread more confidently over her lips and her fingers gripped the pencil more firmly. Hardly knowing it, she rested the tip of the lead against her open notebook and drew slowly, the pencil scratching round on the paper. Losing herself in the moment, she found her mind wandering back to a pair of perfectly blue eyes.

By the end of the lesson, Willow realized that not only had she not done the reading, but a whole page of her notebook was covered with a series of pencil drawn hearts.

Blushing furiously, she closed her notebook and shook her head. A faint scent of flowers passed her by as a blonde figure moved towards the door. Willow couldn’t help but watch her go, a tiny frown working its way over her face before the insistent tugging of Buffy on her shirt sleeve pushed that feeling from the pit of her stomach.

***

“So I said, Giles, I have SATs. You tell me, how much time does that leave for slaying?” Buffy glanced round at the faces of her two friends and shrugged disconsolately. Rubbing the heel of her hand against her forehead, she closed her eyes and leant forward, dropping her head onto the hard surface of the table in the student dining area. “Slaying sucks,” she mumbled, her voice muffled against the Formica table.

“Poor Buffy,” Xander reached forward and ruffled the back of Buffy’s head affectionately. “Not a happy Slayer.”

Buffy shook her head on the table, letting out a grunt that was decidedly less than enthusiastic. Lifting up her head she leaned back in her chair and pushed out her lip until it was bordering on pouty.

“Well we all know why I’m not your happy-go-Slaying gal,” Buffy sighed, her eyes glancing across the table to where Willow sat. “What’s up with you Will? You’ve hardly said a word since we sat down? Worrying about the tests?”

“Huh?” Willow’s thoughts wrested themselves away from a blonde figure who was currently buried in a book on the other side of the room and turned, rather resentfully, to the blonde sitting on the other side of the table.

“You,” Buffy pointed at the redhead, “you’re all dreamy and non-talky. What’s up?”

A flush covered the redhead’s cheeks as she looked down at her lap, where her fingers were twisting nervously against one another. Pressing palm against palm, she tried not to look back at the new girl, like she’d been doing for the last twenty minutes. Stupid, she told herself, going all gooey eyes over someone you don’t even know. But she is hot, she reminded herself with a flush. Very hot. And cute. And she smiles. And she’s got eyes that you could…

“Will? Earth to Will?” Buffy leant forward and tapped the table in front of the redhead, her knuckles rapping resoundingly against the wood. Jerking back in her seat, Willow blinked hastily, drawing in breath and focusing on her friends. Xander’s bemused silly grin flooded her face with red again, whilst Buffy shook her head and let out a slow breath.

“I’m uh…” she started nervously, wondering if it was really possible for her voice to go that high, “just wondering if…” Stopping, she realized that her sentence was faltering in the middle of nowhere, and she wasn’t even sure if she could conjure up an ending for it in the next half hour, never mind the next ten seconds.

“If…?” Xander raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

“Uh…” Willow tried again. Nothing. Clamping her lips tight shut she shook her head.

Buffy smiled and folded her arms across her chest. “I see your oral skills are really improving Will; the SATs should be a breeze for you.”

“I was thinking about something,” Willow answered defensively.

“Something naughty?” Xander leaned forward over the table. “Cuz you know, if it is, you can tell me. I’m your best friend.”

“Xander,” Buffy slapped him on the arm and frowned as he recoiled in obvious pain. “I’m Willow’s best friend. If she’s going to tell anyone anything naughty, it’s going to be me,” she said decisively. Leaning over the table, she whispered, “So is it naughty? Is it?”

Willow couldn’t help laughing at her two friends, shaking her head in embarrassment. “No!” she exclaimed, pushing at Buffy’s outstretched arm on the table. “I don’t think naughty things,” she added, her eyes flickering back to the blonde on the other side of the room. I don’t even know her name, she thought sadly, looking at the way the sunlight caught the gold flecks in the long mane of hair that was currently covering the face Willow longed to see again.

“Right, Saint Willow,” Xander tittered, pushing at Buffy’s arm in an attempt to pass on the joke. Throwing him a cursory glance, Buffy frowned then returned her attentions to the redhead.

“Come on Will, all work and no play…” she trailed off, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“Right,” Xander qualified. “And you’ve been interested in no man at school. Not even that basketball player who you claim to be tutoring,” he held up his fingers to represent inverted commas, a lecherous grin plastered across his face.

“Oh please,” Willow sighed, pushing out her bottom lip, her gaze following the sunlight dancing around the edges of the figure across the room. She raked her gaze up and down the girl, sitting literally motionless. Look at me, she willed with all her might. Look at me just once.

Buffy turned to Xander with a playful smile on her face. “She was interested in you,” she pointed out. “But then, I guess that does qualify for the ‘no man’ thing after all.”

Xander assumed a look of pained offence and put his hand over his chest. “Once again, Buffster,” he rolled his eyes back as though terribly hurt, “you manage to destroy my manliness in a single phrase.”

“That was a sentence,” Willow intoned, almost without thinking. Her eyes fixed on the figure across the room from her, her brows drew together painfully. She couldn’t quite fixate on what it was attracted her to the silent, solitary girl. But whatever it was, she wanted to explore it. Fully. Wholly. Look at me, please look at me, her mind begged. If you look at me once, I won’t ask again, I promise. Her fingers twisted against one another in her lap as her eyes set themselves, gimlet-like, on the other girl. Just once. Look at me just once. Just one time.

“Well this non-man has to go and meet his non-girlfriend otherwise we really will be having a non-relationship,” Xander said, rising from the table, and offering a smiling apology to the two girls seated.

Buffy got to her feet as well, “Yeah, I gotta go see Giles about a demon. Or vampire.” She paused, “Demony vampire. Or something.” Shrugging, she looked down at Willow “You coming with?” she asked.

“No,” Willow felt a faint glimmer of hope as her two friends gathered their bags from underneath the table. “I’m going to…” her gaze drifted down to her own schoolbag, resting on her feet. “Read!” she finished triumphantly. “I’m going to read,” she said again, more assuredly.

“Catch you after sixth period in the library?” Buffy asked, receiving a nod from the redhead. Flashing Willow a brilliant smile, she hooked her arm through Xander’s and the two walked away, leaving a distinctly not unhappy Willow alone at the table. For a moment, Willow allowed herself the luxury of a full-on stare across the room at the blonde, before sighing heavily and leaning down to fumble in her schoolbag for the book she was going to place strategically on the table in front of her.

Almost bumping her head on the table, she grasped the heavy tome and heaved it onto her lap, her hair falling across her face as she did so. Cursing under her breath, she plonked the book onto the table’s surface with a dull thud, and pushed at her hair with a few stray fingers. Finally moving the offending strands of red from out of her eyes, she blinked self-consciously and glanced across the room, just like before.

Her heart stopped.

It froze.

As did she.

A pair of blue eyes were firmly fixed on her face, their depth and intensity clear, even from the distance of the room’s length. The crinkles that Willow had savored before in the classroom played softly around the orbs of blue that were, even now, softening as the two girls merely looked at one another. Willow felt her pulse quicken and tick nervously at the back of her neck. A cold creeping fled over her skin, shivering its way into her consciousness and alerting her nerve endings as though she was being showered with cold water.

She’s looking at me! Willow thought, panicked. Okay, she’s looking at me. Now what do I do? Do I smile? Is smiling okay? Or will she think I’m easy if I smile? But if I don’t smile, will she think I’m all hard and unrelenting and unfriendly?

The girl’s lips curved upwards in the same moment that thoughts were flitting through Willow’s mind at a rate of knots. The last vestiges of sanity rushed from her brain as a warm feeling flooded her mind. The mouth that was smiling at her was luscious, full, ripe…oh god I sound like all the bad lesbian novels I’ve ever read, Willow thought grimly. But still, she was aware of the sensation trickling its way down her spine in a way that was deliciously naughty, pushing a varying plethora of thoughts into her head that she’d swore she never had to Xander only minutes before.

Naughty thoughts, she was distractedly aware of what they were. And the full lips of the other girl still continued to smile at her, as the blue eyes above them gazed into her own green, probing and at the same time ethereally far away. I hope she can’t tell what I’m thinking; Willow felt her own lips curve upwards in a returning smile, seeing it reflected in the grin of the other girl. The blonde glanced down at the table top, spreading her hands out onto the book she had been reading. When she raised her eyes again, the blue had deepened to cobalt and the curve of her lips was intoxicatingly seductive.

Oh god, Willow swallowed, she knows! She can tell! She knows what I’m thinking! More horrified at herself than at the openly flirtatious stare of the other girl, Willow fumbled for something, anything to distract herself with right now. Her hands knocked against the book in front of her, moving to open it but failing miserably, and instead pushing it off the edge of the table, where it fell onto the floor with a loud ‘thunk’.

Blushing furiously, Willow shook her head and tore her eyes away from the blonde for a second, bending down to grasp at the book on the floor. Her fingers swiped across the cover a couple of times before she got a grip on it, her temperature rising rapidly to flush up over her cheeks. Pulling the book back up to her lap, she blinked in horror at her own foolish attempts to even begin to impress this new girl. Impress her? Why do I want to -

Her thoughts stopped abruptly as she realized the blonde was no longer there. The chair by the window was empty, as though nobody had ever been sitting there; the sunlight streaming across the plastic seat. Tendrils of light shone across the floor and only served to accentuate the fact that the girl had gone. She was gone.

Sighing deeply, Willow slammed her hand down onto the book, her palm smacking painfully onto the flat cover. She was gone. And she had been there, hadn’t she? With all the smiling and the lips and the eyes and the sunshine?

“Dork,” Willow muttered to herself. “Stupid dork.”

The bell sounded shrilly in her eardrums, signaling the end of lunchtime. Almost wearily, Willow tucked the book underneath her arm and hoisted herself up out of the chair, shaking her head, her heart heavy. History next. And the new girl wasn’t in History.

“Damn you ancient Greeks,” the redhead said grimly, hooking her bag over her shoulder and making her way out of the dining area.

As Willow weaved in and out of the thronging crowd of students in the hallway, she failed to notice a figure pressed up against the side of the dining area. She didn’t see how the figure’s blue eyes ran up and down her slight body as she made her way to class. And she certainly didn’t notice the appreciative smile on the blonde’s face as the girl watched the redhead wander away.

Pushing herself off the wall, Tara hugged her books close to her chest, trying to ignore the pitter pat of her beating heart. She’d felt it the first time she’d looked at the redhead and god knows, sitting in the cafeteria she’d exercised some major strength of character just to stop herself from gazing at the girl. She’d wanted to look at her and never stop. Tara had learned a long time ago not to hide those emotions from herself, but, naturally, it had become second nature to hide them from others. Particularly the object of her affections. Who, it seemed, was now taking the form of a slight, nervy and very cute redhead.

Sighing gently, Tara made her way down the hallway, towards her afternoon class. The smile the redhead had thrown her way lifted her spirits somewhat. Even someone as guarded as she had become knew that people didn’t look like that unless they were interested. Besides, there had been something there. Something intense and instinctive. First week at a new school and already you’ve discovered another unrequited love, she thought grimly. She had guessed that the guy with the redhead was her boyfriend. Someone like that; bound to have guys all over her, she told herself, preparing for the worst. And that was her way. Prepare for the worst. That way, when the person you loved did trample all over your heart, at least you couldn’t have said you didn’t see it coming.

***

Giles frowned and approached the slight redhead who was currently sitting at the computer in the school library. He’d noticed a lack of attention in her efforts today; it was as though she had some weighty decision occupying her mind, although she had brushed his first inquiry aside with a wave of her pale hand and turned her gaze onto the computer. But she hadn’t actually done anything since sitting down. Instead, she had shifted in her seat, frowning deeply and giving the occasional sigh.

Approaching the table, Giles perched on the end and folded his arms over his chest. He let his gaze wander over the taut features of the redhead and pursed his lips thoughtfully before speaking.

“Is something wrong?” he asked tentatively.

Coming out of her reverie, Willow blinked up at him, a little dazed. Shaking her head slightly, as though to push her thoughts aside, she looked up at his concerned expression.

“No. Nothing wrong. I’m fine. See?” she placed her fingers onto the keyboard and began tapping quickly. “I’m researching. I’m working.”

“Willow,” Giles leaned down and put his hand on her arm briefly before removing it, almost embarrassed by his show of paternal familiarity. “You’ve been sitting staring into space for almost an hour. Now I might just be grasping at straws here, but it appears as though you have something on your mind. Is there anything I can help with?”

The redhead’s brow furrowed as she fought the temptation to blurt everything out to Giles, mainly because she had a mischievous desire to see the expression on his face. But the overwhelming need to keep it all inside won through in the end, and she shook her head, returning her gaze to the computer screen.

“I’m fine,” she lied, memories of a perfect blue gaze dancing salaciously through her mind. Swallowing against the feelings they inspired, she sucked in a huge breath. “I’m fine,” she repeated.

“Ah yes,” Giles pushed himself up off the table and walked slowly over to his desk. “Fine as in, shut up Giles, you’re frightening the students,” he intoned, not a little tersely.

Worried, Willow spun round in her seat and held up her hands, her mouth falling open. “No Giles,” she called, stopping the librarian in his tracks. “I didn’t mean…” she stopped herself, hanging her head down low on her chest. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m kind of distracto girl today. Sorry.” Pushing back the chair from the computer she stood up, reaching across the table for her schoolbag, shaking her head as she did so.

“Willow, I only meant – “

“No, it’s okay,” she shot a weary smile in Giles’ general direction and slung her back over her shoulder. “I’m all with the crazies today,” she twirled her finger round near her temple and rolled her eyes. “I’ll do this tomorrow. Tomorrow morning. I’ll come in early and do it. I promise.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Giles reached for his glasses, preparing himself for what he was sure could be an outburst of Willow babble. At its worst, it could be several minutes before he got the opportunity to get a word in edgeways. Pulling a handkerchief out of his trousers, he wiped at the lenses of his glasses, swiping madly at non-existent specks of dust.

“No,” Willow held up her hand, feeling like she’d burst if she didn’t talk. Pressing her lips tightly against one another, she stood motionless for a second, contemplating her options. Realizing that she didn’t really have any, she felt defeat flood her chest. She couldn’t tell Giles about the new girl. No, correction. She couldn’t tell anyone about the new girl. She just couldn’t. She couldn’t even bring herself to tell the new girl, for god’s sakes.

Sweeping her gaze back up the waiting librarian, she opened her mouth. Traitorous mouth, she thought critically. Then the image of another mouth drifted into her head, the mere memory of the full curving smile making her knees tremble. Squeezing her eyes tight shut, she took a second before opening them again.

“Morning. Me. In here.” she managed to force out, before she took to her heels and hightailed it out of the library, the door whooshing shut behind her almost before Giles had chance to push his glasses back onto his nose.

Rather taken aback, he frowned, his head jerking back in bemused reaction. Contemplation painted patterns of confusion through his gaze, before he finally shook his head and let out a long slow breath. Teenagers. He’d never understand them. And often, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

***

The next day dawned bright and early. Just the way Willow always used to like it. Usually she took great pride in setting out her schoolbooks in readiness for the day ahead, rising hours before she needed to, just to ensure that she was properly prepared for study. It had been her routine since as far back as she could remember; one that had defined and yet somehow freed her from the constraints of her parents. Not that they really cared anyway. As long as she kept bringing home near perfect report cards, they pretty much left her to her own devices.

But this morning was different. Perhaps it was different because from the moment she opened her eyes, Willow felt a certain flutter in her chest at the mere thought of going to school. Or perhaps it was different because from the moment she came out of a fitful sleep, Willow realized that her dreams had been filled with a pair of sparkling blue eyes and a soft curving smile. The dips and shapes of a feminine body had filled the redhead’s sleeping mind, and waking, she found to her chagrin that her eiderdown, normally kept so carefully arranged over her sleeping body, was crumpled up and bunched in between her legs.

I’m a dirty pervert, she thought to herself, hastily pulling the covers from her body and literally jumping out of the offending bed. I was dreaming about her in that way and it felt… She paused in the pulling off of her pajamas and sighed heavily, the flannel resting on her face. Oh god, it felt good. I liked it.

Shucking off the garment, she threw it behind her onto the bed and stood naked in the middle of her room. She reached for her bra, carefully laid over the back of her chair the night before, and pulled the straps on over her shoulders. I think about women when I’m asleep, she thought guiltily. I fantasize about women when I’m asleep. What does that make me?

A faint smile crossed her face as she heard Xander’s voice in her head. “Alive,” he would explain it, if he was talking about himself. But, she reasoned, Xander was supposed to think about girls in that way. He was a boy and that was the way it was. What in frilly heck was Willow Rosenberg, top of her class and quite possibly her generation, doing thinking about girls in that way?

Well, one girl, she qualified. For it was clear to her that before the new girl had arrived, she hadn’t even considered the possibility that she might be attracted to women. And she’d spent the last three years as best friend of the Slayer. And Buffy was hot.

Oh no, she shook her head firmly, her sleep mussed hair batting gently against her cheeks. I don’t think Buffy’s hot. I don’t think anyone’s hot. I’m not like that. Again, soft blue caressed her memory and she closed her eyes, recalling how it had felt when the new girl had stared at her and smiled at her and made her feel all those naughty delicious feelings that she’d only ever gotten before over Xander and yes she’d been ten at the time but what did it matter now that she was obviously gay and attracted to someone she’d never even met?

Panting from the mere exertion of thinking too fast, Willow clapped a hand to her head and let out a sound of frustration from between gritted teeth. Okay, so she thought the new girl was hot. In that way. So what was she supposed to do now?

***

Her question was answered for her in Computer Science. First period was always slow, as most of the students took their own sweet time to wake up. Possibly because of and definitely as a solution to that very thing, seniors had Computer Science for two hours on a Wednesday. Most of them sat back and occasionally fiddled with the keyboard, whilst others tried to look busy. Xander always complained that the school computers never had enough games on them, and Buffy generally agreed with him.

But Willow loved Computer Science. She’d even taught the class the previous year to great success and knew that sitting in the lab for two hours every Wednesday was a formality more than anything else. But still, she would eagerly slip into her seat behind the computer and await instructions. Learning was learning, as she always said to Xander, who usually answered with a resounding “Huh?” and a shake of his head.

She glanced across at her two friends, drooping visibly in their seats. At least Buffy’s got an excuse, she thought, her eyes drifting over the sleepy blonde some two rows away from her. Looking at the apathetic statures of the other students, Willow couldn’t help wondering if any of them had even the vaguest idea of how her best friend protected the town against demons and vampires night after night. We’re living on a Hellmouth and to us it’s just life. It seemed almost prosaic, as though it was some huge fantasy that they were merely acting out day after day. Although you’d think in a fantasy I’d have a bigger chest, Willow sighed, glancing downwards.

Mr. Bergen entered the room, his scruffy suit looking as though he’d worn it all night. His tie was already askew and he held a cup of coffee in his shaky hand. Willow couldn’t help sighing again; when she had taught Computer Science, she had always looked neat and tidy. It looked like Mr. Bergen hadn’t even brushed his hair this morning, the gray tufts sticking up at the back of his head. She pressed her lips into a hard line and shook her head slightly. At least she had bothered making an effort.

“Class,” Mr. Bergen dropped into his seat behind his cluttered desk and shuffled a few bits of paper around, searching for his lesson plan. Not finding it, he tutted and closed his eyes, rubbing a hand over his sickly face. “Uh, class,” he repeated, his eyes narrowing as he attempted to gain the attention of thirty students and instead finding one redhead listening carefully. Ploughing vainly on, he cleared his throat, “We’ll continue with our programming this morning. Open up your folders and find your work from last week and just…continue.”

Amid several barely conscious murmurs from the rear of the class, Mr. Bergen’s eyes swept the room, alighting on one rather less attentive student. “And Mr. Harris,” he said slowly, watching as Xander’s eyes flew open and one of his hands hastily wiped the corners of his mouth, “shall we have less time performing dubious searches on the internet and more time performing actual schoolwork? Hmmm?”

Xander attempted a feeble grin as a few laughs were thrown his way. Sinking back into his chair, he nodded rapidly and tried to control the blush that spread up his neck. Feeling the cold stare of the Slayer on his left, he turned to her and shrugged. “What?” he said, feigning surprise. “I was researching.”

“Sure,” she nodded disbelievingly. “These searches then, just what exactly were they for?”

“Uh…” he put a finger up to his mouth and pretended to think.

“Www dot I’m a big loser who likes naked girls dot com,” a clear voice rang out behind them.

Turning round in their seats, Buffy and Xander met the expressionless gaze of a rather pissed off cheerleader. Cordelia Chase folded her arms over her chest and tilted her head onto one side, her chestnut hair falling over her shoulder. Pursing her lips, she glanced at Buffy before her eyes roamed over the guilty features of her sometime boyfriend.

“You’re so lame,” she sniffed, closing her eyes in disgust.

“Yeah,” Xander leaned his chair backwards and flailed one arm out in her general direction. “That’s why ya love me, right?” His lopsided grin didn’t fail to make an impression, although the smile hardly reached Cordelia’s lips, never mind her eyes. She turned away, feigning sudden interest in her bag before he could see that he’d still got her affections.

Xander stuck out his chin and turned back to Buffy, nodding his head in what was an exaggerated pride in himself. “Oh yeah,” he bounced up and down in his chair, “the Xan Man’s still got it.”

“Right,” Buffy frowned, “and as long as you don’t pass it on, I think we’re all happy.”

Mr. Bergen edged his way across the classroom to where Willow was already tapping frantically on the computer keyboard, her face set in concentration as she gazed at the screen in front of her. The shadow of the shuffling teacher fell across the bright colors on her screen and her frown deepened somewhat. She’d already figured out that she knew more about computers than Mr. Bergen, and hoped against hope that he wasn’t about to pick her brains. Again.

“Miss Rosenberg,” he said, his coffee-filled breath making her wince visibly. Drawing back a step, the teacher smiled apologetically and rubbed his hand over his face wearily. “I have a small challenge for you,” he continued, tugging a little nervously at his suit jacket. “We have a new addition to the class and I was rather hoping you could go through the programming course we’ve done with her this lesson seeing as you’re…ah…rather advanced in the class as it is.” His bloodshot eyes searched her for a moment before she sat back in her chair, resigned to the task ahead.

“Sure,” she shrugged, her gaze dropping to her lap. “I’d be happy to do it.” Well, that was a lie, she knew that. But she’d been brought up to respect the teacher in the classroom and she knew without a doubt that she could teach Mr. Bergen’s six lesson programming course in a couple of hours, no problem. So, happy or not, Willow resigned herself to teaching the new kid old tricks.

Mr. Bergen smiled gratefully, pulling at his tie and shifting it more askew than it had been already. Turning to the door, he motioned to a figure standing in the hallway. Hardly noticing who it was, Willow shifted her chair to one side of the computer and pulled another one alongside. Lifting her gaze, she prepared her sweetest ‘meet and greet’ smile. Never let it be said that Willow Rosenberg didn’t welcome new students with all she had.

She swallowed.

“Willow, this is Tara Maclay. She’s new here. I’m sure you’ll take good care of her.” Mr. Bergen stepped aside and let the new girl slide into the seat beside Willow. Then he retreated thankfully to the relative safety of his desk.

A strained silence fell between the two girls as neither one of them made the eye contact both so desperately wanted. Willow looked down at her lap, blinking the shock into her head, trying to put the pieces of her frozen mind together again. The new girl. Tara. Well, at least she knew her name now. Which in itself wasn’t helping, seeing as all she could do was roll it around her head without actually making a connection to her vocal chords.

The blonde dropped her head, her hair falling forward to hide the face that was now a lovely shade of puce. Her shoulders drooped somewhat, the dark top she was wearing hanging loosely over her body, clearly two sizes too big for her. Long tapered fingers reached out and picked at a loose thread on her cargo pants.

“Uh…hi,” Willow said, wondering if her voice was meant to be three octaves higher than usual. She tried to smile but was sure that it was coming out as more of a grimace. Dork, she told herself, you’re a big dork. And she can see that.

Lifting her head, Tara returned Willow’s smile, those delicious lips imprinting themselves firmly into the redhead’s mind. That’s another sleepless night, Willow thought grimly, hardly able to focus on anything but the pink softness of the mouth that was intoxicatingly close to her.

“Hi,” Tara answered. Her voice, deep and lilting, struck a chord of something Willow only recognized as desire minutes later, when she finally drifted out of her daydream about Tara’s mouth.

“I’m Tara,” the blonde said, her blue eyes flitting nervously from the keyboard to the computer screen, then back again to the little loose thread on her trousers.

“Yeah, he uh…Mr. Bergen said,” Willow gestured in what she thought was the general direction of the teacher. “I’m Willow.”

“Yeah, Mr. Bergen said,” Tara answered sweetly, finally turning her eyes upwards to meet the most beautiful green gaze she thought she’d ever seen. For a seemingly endless moment, the two girls locked eyes and simply took the other in. Swimming in a dizzy haze of widening realization, the classroom seemed to fade into black, leaving the two of them alone.

Wow, she’s really hot, Willow thought guiltily, as though the blonde might be able to read her mind as well as her eyes. No, it’s more than that; she’s beautiful. She’s insanely beautiful. And I think I’m drooling…

Snapping herself out of her love struck gaze, Willow blinked, turning back to the computer in front of her. Allowing herself the luxury of breathing in the scent of flowers coming from the girl beside her, she kept her line of vision trained on the computer. It was safer that way. Safer and less obvious.

“Um, have you had much experience. With computers?” she asked, her fingers reaching automatically for the keyboard.

Tara shifted slightly in the chair, her knee brushing achingly against Willow’s underneath the table. The jolt of electricity hit them both at the same time, eliciting a whole new range of rose colors across their cheeks. Muttering an apology under her breath, Tara moved away, her lips parted slightly in surprise.

“I don’t, I mean I haven’t, um, used c-c-computers m-m-much before,” she forced out, pearly white teeth reaching out to grasp at her lower lip. Two lines furrowed themselves in between her eyes as she silently berated her stutter. In Junior High, she’d sometimes hardly been able to complete a sentence without stammering. She hated it. It always made her sound stupid. And the last thing she wanted to appear in front of Willow was stupid. In fact, if she was perfectly honest, the only thing she really wanted was to touch the silken strands of copper that hung down over the redhead’s shoulder. Her fingertips tingled with the expected texture of Willow’s hair, sending a shiver down her spine into her legs. Thank god I’m sitting down, she thought to herself.

Willow’s smile broadened as she heard Tara’s response. At last, something she could handle without blushing or losing control over simple motor functions. Letting out a relieved sigh and wanting to reassure the other girl’s stuttering nerves, she sat back in her chair.

“Well that’s no problem,” she said confidently. “How about I give you a quick refresh on the basic functions of the computer system here and then we can start on the programming course?” She added a bright smile that seemed to set the other girl more at ease and brushed non-existent bits of fluff off her orange jeans.

“Right then,” she began, trying not to notice how close Tara was sitting to her. “If you open up a new folder, that’s the one we’ll use for your work.”

“Um…” Tara frowned and looked at the keyboard, then up at the screen. Dork, she cursed herself.

“Oh,” Willow let out a trickle of a laugh. “Use the mouse, here,” she leaned forwards to the right of the keyboard and grasped the plastic in her hand. Tara reached for the mouse at the same time, her palm covering the back of Willow’s hand. The contact was immediate and powerful, both girls closing their eyes and swallowing hard against the shivering sensation that was currently wandering up and down their arms.

“Sorry,” Willow hissed, snatching her hand away, her arm brushing inadvertently against Tara’s breast as she did so. Oh god, she whispered silently, a kaleidoscope of blackness and colors beating against her closed eyelids. I touched her! I touched her and now she’s going to think I’m a perve!

“No, it’s uh…it w-w-was my fault,” Tara breathed out, “I know how to use a m-m-mouse. I used one before. At my old school.”

“Right,” Willow nodded, purposely looking away from the wide blue eyes that turned on her. “Okay. That’s good. Okay.” Psycho pep squad would be really helpful right now, she pleaded, looking across the room to where Buffy was typing with two fingers. The Slayer glanced up and caught Willow looking at her; green eyes wide open in a silent request for help. Pulling a face, Buffy waved and winked. Not really what I wanted, Willow sighed ruefully.

“I opened up a folder,” Tara’s voice brought Willow’s gaze back to the soft blue again, the blonde’s eyes questioning her with a sincerity that the redhead found more than simply alluring.

“Oh, okay,” Willow couldn’t help grinning, shifting almost unconsciously into teacher mode again. “What you need to do is open up the directory there,” she pointed to a file onscreen, “and choose a file name to download, then right click, choose save target as and put it into your folder.” She sat back, pleased with herself.

Tara’s eyes narrowed slightly and she turned to the redhead, a suspicious look on her face. The corner of her mouth quirked up at one side as she fixed a pointed gaze upon the other girl. “You’re like, a computer whiz aren’t you?” she murmured, the tone of her voice low, caressing Willow’s senses. “You’re really good at this stuff.”

Willow let out a laugh and rolled her eyes self-deprecatingly. “Oh I don’t know if I’m a whiz…” she began, then stopped under the dubious look that Tara was throwing at her. “Okay,” she held up her hand, “computers are my thing. I used to teach this class last year when our teacher Miss Calendar was ki…uh, I mean, she left. And substitute teachers were few and far between.” Warming to her subject, she draped one arm over the back of her chair and swiveled round on her seat, aware that her knees were pressing up against Tara’s thigh. Becoming slightly bolder when the other girl didn’t move away, she tilted her head onto one side. “I kinda liked the whole computer class teaching thing,” she confessed in a conspiratorial tone. “In fact, you know, I don’t hate school.” Delighted at the grin that spread across Tara’s face, she fought down the blush that rose to her cheeks. “I’m a nerd,” she added, sighing deeply.

“I don’t think you’re a nerd,” Tara said gently. As Willow’s eyes met hers, she felt her heartbeat increase giddily. Swallowing hard, she moved her thigh against Willow’s knee in a transparent attempt at contact. She’s so cute, Tara thought to herself, she’s adorable. Her eyes get all big when she likes something; it’s really cute.

“I actually think it’s really cool,” she added, pleased at the enthusiastic expression that flitted across Willow’s face.

For a moment, the two girls seemed to lean towards one another, inevitably drawn to the warmth seeping out of them, mingling their connection and defining their attraction. Willow moved her arm slightly on the back of the chair, her fingers brushing against the strands of blonde lying over the other girl’s shoulder. Tara didn’t move away. In fact, Willow could have sworn that she moved closer. Her heart leapt up in her chest, offering hope and expectation. Squashing it down, she felt like reminding herself that this wasn’t happening. It was some kind of infatuation; had to be. Girls like Tara weren’t interested in…well, girls like Willow. Life just didn’t work that way. Life threw you curve balls, like Xander getting together with Cordelia. Like Buffy getting together with Angel. Like Willow being on her own. As long as you could expect that, life didn’t throw you someone like Tara and let you keep her. The only problem with that was that Willow desperately wanted to keep her. To keep this moment. To stay like this for a long long time. And that was some fuzzy logic.

But, she reasoned with herself, fuzzy logic or not, it made perfect sense to her right now.

***

“So Will, you Bronzing it with us tonight?” Buffy slipped her arm through Willow’s as they walked from their final class of the day. They sidestepped neatly to avoid a group of football players who were clearly more concerned with getting to the playing field than bumping into other students. As the noise of the jibes and inevitably admiring looks that were thrown Buffy’s way passed them by, Willow pulled a face and shook her head.

“I don’t know, I promised to meet Tara in the library tonight. Giles promised he’d open up for us so we can do some reading together. She’s kinda behind on her studies since coming here, so I offered to help her out.”

Frowning, Buffy stopped walking, turning to face the redhead and cocked her head onto one side, her blonde hair falling over her bare shoulder above the strapless top she wore.

“You’re sure studying a lot with Tara lately,” she commented, failing to notice the self-conscious flush that spread itself over Willow’s cheeks. “This is like, the fourth time you’ve stayed late with her in two weeks. What’s up Will, you taking on the role of the welcome wagon here?” A tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she folded her arms over her chest.

She let me put my hand on her arm the other day, Willow thought wistfully. She didn’t need much more incentive to offer to tutor Tara than that. Touching the other girl had been addictive. From the first moment her fingers had brushed the soft cashmere sweater Tara had been wearing, Willow could feel the heat suffuse up from the other girl’s skin to her own. Warm tendrils of want had tickled at the back of her neck, a faint embarrassed sheen of perspiration breaking out at her hairline. She had only let her hand lie on Tara’s arm for a few seconds, but the smile she’d received from the other girl had been more than recompense.

“She needs help,” she shrugged at Buffy, returning to the present. Shuffling her feet, her eyebrows raised in explanation and she allowed her lower lip to drop slightly. “Besides, she’s the one who wanted the tutoring, not me.” That’s not entirely true, because I kind of asked her. Okay, I did ask her. But she said yes. And she meant it. I think.

“Woah Will, maybe you’ve found someone who likes school as much as you do,” Buffy grinned.

“I know, isn’t it great!” Willow bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, almost clapping her hands together in delight. Her laughter echoed down the now empty hallway, eliciting a strange puzzlement from Buffy.

“Uh, yeah, if you say so,” the Slayer inclined her head in a sort of agreement. “So you’re not coming out then?” She returned to the original question.

Nice choice of phrasing Buffy, Willow blinked. “No. Tutoring. Lots to teach and learn,” Willow responded, patting her schoolbag that was hanging by her side.

Somewhat downcast, Buffy couldn’t help wondering what the attraction was. Tara had sat with them during lunch yesterday and while she was nice and all, she was very quiet. She and Willow were giggling over some book or other, whatever it was, Buffy didn’t understand it. And she’d felt distinctly left out. Tara and Willow had seemed pretty darn chummy considering they’d only really known one another for a couple of weeks.

Buffy just supposed that there was something intellectual going on that she clearly wasn’t party to. No matter, she consoled herself; it wasn’t as though she was ever really going to understand what was going on in Willow’s head. Sometimes she wondered how the two of them had been thrown together like this, they were so different. And then all she had to do was think of Willow’s unyielding loyalty; her strength of character far outweighing anyone Buffy had met before. And that, she decided, was the real reason why she and Willow stuck together so much.

“So I guess I’ll see you later then,” Buffy said, hoping that her puppy dog eyes and down turned mouth might persuade Willow to forgo the tutoring in a last ditch attempt at subterfuge.

“Yeah. Great. Later. Bye!” Willow raised a hand in farewell and was turning the corner at the end of the corridor before Buffy had chance to open her mouth in reply.

***

By the time it reached seven o’clock, the school was literally deserted. The parking lot boasted only the shadowy shape of Giles’ old Citroen, and the corridors and classrooms sat empty, resting in trepidation for the following day of study and noise.

The library was filled with an unearthly quiet. It had been silent for the last half hour, as Willow and Tara searched through the stacks for the lesser known studies on Psychology. Giles had assured them that the school library was well stocked for their research and had even pulled up some records on texts that might be useful.

Pushing their way towards the back of the library, Willow and Tara had giggled nervously in the poorly lit part of the stacks, where the shadows of the tall bookshelves loomed over them like threatening monsters. Looking somewhat skeptically at the dust on some of the shelves, Willow had explained that not many of the students actually used the library for checking out books. When Tara had enquired just what they did use the library for, Willow had blushed, remembering the day when she’d found a pair of freshmen necking in the shadows at the back of the stacks. Then she thought about the many Scooby meetings they’d had around the huge reading tables down below. Another thing I can’t talk about, she restricted herself. All this stuff that I do; really cool stuff and I can’t tell her any of it. She’d think I was crazy anyway. Vampires, demons, magick…normal people don’t understand any of that.

“Is this the right place?” Tara wondered aloud, brushing past Willow as she reached up to the third shelf. Willow couldn’t help noticing the way her movement pulled up the flimsy top she was wearing, exposing a healthy amount of pink flesh around her midriff. Staring despite herself, Willow wondered what it would be like to touch that flesh, to run her fingers over it, or even, she swallowed, her mouth.

“Willow?” Tara turned, her brows drawn together questioningly.

“Huh?” Willow looked at the other girl, confused. Her gaze darted back fleetingly to the flesh that had caught her attention before trailing up over the soft swell of breasts to meet a pair of half-amused blue eyes directed her way.

“Is this the right shelf?” Tara asked, her voice dipping into the realms of her chest to come out rather more throaty than she would have liked. But the closeness of the redhead to her in this private space was making her kind of dizzy. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t been close to Willow before. But the silence around them was roaring in her ears like a hundred oceans, the waves pulsing through her veins to remind her that this redhead filled every dream she’d had for the last two weeks. Thoughts of Willow got her out of bed in the morning. The girl’s sweet good morning made her smile and kept her happy all day. And yet…she knew that nothing would happen. What was the point in even confessing her desires? She’d seen it all before. Closeness built your hopes up. Closeness and intense friendship made you believe things you had no right in making a reality. And yet it was that closeness she craved, day after day, night after night. And it was getting ever so much harder to hide it.

Leaning forward, Willow’s shoulder bumped against the blonde’s, the familiar jolt of electricity passing between them. An awkward and pained smile colored the redhead’s face as she deliberately turned away from Tara, instead directing her attention towards the monotonous rows of books on the shelf.

“Um…yeah, psychology,” she murmured, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as she felt Tara’s breath behind her; the sweet swell of the girl’s body pressing against her own. With a shaking finger, she tapped the spine of one of the books. “That’s the one. “Studies in Se…” she trailed off, hardly wanting to read the title. Clearing her throat, she attempted a more acceptable octave and tried to focus on the work. “Studies in Sexual Behavior.”

Neither girl spoke.

Turning her head to one side, Willow was aware of Tara’s eyes fixed firmly on her face. She knew if there was ever a moment to say anything it was now. And still she was mute, her head pounding with want, and need, and everything she’d ever worked so hard to keep inside. She’d never felt this kind of emotion tearing at her insides before; so rampantly raging through every nerve ending, setting her skin on fire. She was sure that the burning in her eyes was clear to the other girl. I want her, she thought suddenly, the shock of the desire filling her body and wrapping its fingers firmly around her heart. I need her, I want her. More than anything. More than she had even suspected in the darkness of the nights when she had awoken from a Tara-filled dreaming moment. It was almost painful; the beating of her heart would surely burst her chest and leap out to declare undying passion for this goddess standing in front of her.

I’m a girl. I’m a girl who likes another girl. I’m a girl who wants another girl. I want her. I want to kiss her; taste her; touch her; feel her on me. Naked. Skin. All of it.

Her mouth opened slightly as the realization came flooding into her mind, so fast that it almost bowled her over with its voracity. Clinging to her every sense, it awakened the part of her that she never knew existed. Deep within the depths of her very soul, a light shone that was so clear and piercing, she could hardly do anything but bask in its warmth. Is this how it’s meant to feel? she asked herself, is it meant to be so strong? So powerful?

Almost stumbling forward, she felt herself lean into the warmth of Tara, who put an arm up to steady the redhead. The fingers splayed out across her back, searing through the cotton t-shirt she wore and imprinting themselves forever on her skin.

Grabbing at the book, Willow pulled it from the shelf and handed it to Tara, who looked, rather bemused, at the cover. “Studies in Sexual Behavior,” she read. Her eyes flickered over the title in bold on the dark cover and then traveled up to meet an emerald gaze that was nervously questing her own. “You talk about this stuff in class?” she asked, somewhat confused.

“It’s um, it’s about animals,” Willow said, flushing furiously under the gaze of the other girl. “We talk about frogs and um, natural selection and how animals mate and stuff like that.” She allowed herself a tiny grin of embarrassment, “The teachers don’t like to talk about people.” She shrugged, “I guess it’s just too…you know…real for them or something.”

“Huh,” Tara shook her head. “So you talk about frogs?”

“Yeah,” Willow shuddered, “I hate the little green suckers. Hate ‘em.” Seeing Tara’s lips quirk upwards in a smile, she looked downwards and gave a shy laugh. “I have frog fear,” she confessed. “I’m a dork. I know this.”

A hand crept over her own, down by her side. Tara’s fingers gently traced over her palm before guiding a soft touch up to her fingertips. Sliding down between her digits, Tara interlaced her fingers with Willow’s and grasped firmly, just once, before their skin rested comfortably against one another.

Looking up, Willow met a clear gaze that sent shivers into her skull, sending any rational thought she had fleeing from her mind. Tara’s mouth curved into a half smile that was at once amused and at the same time comforting. Taking a tiny step closer, Tara squeezed Willow’s hand just once, her fingers settling firmly around the redhead’s fingers.

“I can think of a lot of words to describe you, Willow Rosenberg,” the blonde said in a mere whisper. “And dork is not one of them.”

The redhead’s mouth dropped open, the nearness of Tara being the only thing in her mind right now. Vocabulary span out of her control, rushing away to leave only the outpouring of intensity that left her wordless. Meeting Tara’s gaze, a flicker of hope lit in Willow’s stomach, rapidly catching light to become an ember of burning knowledge. She wants me too, the certainty buzzed behind her ears, she knows it and she knows me and she wants me and I want her and…

“I think…uh…I th-think you’re pretty great, actually,” Tara murmured, her voice dropping to a near growl as she let her eyes drift up and down the redhead’s face, memorizing the contours and planes as if she would never see her again after this second.

The pounding of her heart was surely audible; Willow was worried that she might black out from the palpitations her chest was enduring right now. It was electric; sensuous; and above all, real. No fantasy had ever been this good. No dream of marrying Xander had ever seemed as right as holding this girl’s hand did at this moment. Nothing had ever touched Willow as deeply as Tara’s words, however stilting and hesitant they were.

“You…ah…” Willow grasped the book that Tara held in one hand and pulled it towards herself, like some kind of shield.

“Yes?” Tara said breathlessly, inching closer now that the offending tome was out of her hands. The little half smile on her face grew to edge towards a full blown grin.

“Uh…” Teetering on the brink of what was surely the boldest move Willow Rosenberg would ever make; the redhead closed her eyes briefly before holding the book up in front of her face and tearing her hand from Tara’s grip. “This might not be what you want. I could look…for others…things…something…” Turning away, she bit her lip and cursed herself inwardly, her back facing Tara. She looked at the bookshelf in front of her and let out a short sigh of frustration. See? Dork. Major, total, utter dork.

The expression of utter disappointment flooding Tara’s face was enough to set a firm lump of failure in the blonde’s throat. Biting down on her embarrassment, she shook her head slightly, her eyes squeezing shut momentarily. Like you thought you had a shot with her, she told herself firmly. Tara Maclay; loser. She looked at the strands of red in front of her face, tumbling down to brush at the other girl’s shoulders. Tara resisted an aching urge to touch them. Just like she’d been doing for two weeks. It was killing her.

“I don’t know if that’s what you need,” Willow began, her voice all business-like and brisk. It was the only way she knew to take her mind off the shape of Tara’s mouth, so close to her own. The softness of fingers around hers; the smile that she longed so much to see again and again. Often, she said the most ridiculous things just to make Tara smile, the blonde’s quirky mouth recompense enough. “I mean, you know, sometimes people think they’ve got the right thing, and then they find that it’s not what they were uh…” she paused, sucking in a huge breath, “looking for. And if it’s not right then hey, you’re wrong and you get things wrong and it’s stupid and you look stupid. So you need to know if it’s what you really need. And that might not be what you really want, but this book just isn’t right. Uh, I don’t think. Right?”

Placing the offending book on the edge of the shelf, Willow made a show of looking for various other titles. She didn’t really know what she was looking for; she honestly didn’t care. All she knew was that she’d just spent the last two minutes explaining something in a really haphazard way and she wasn’t even sure if Tara knew what she meant. Or if she even understood the babbling itself. Her hands dropped to rest on the dusty bookshelf in front of her; fingertips tapping lightly against the spines of the books there.

A light breath tickled the back of her neck, pushing at her hair. Accompanied by a shifting presence behind her, Willow was aware of a pair of hands resting gently on her hips, the fingers splaying out like flames, licking at her senses. Tara’s thumb pressed insistently on her waist, touching the skin that peeked out between Willow’s t-shirt and her pants. Catching her breath, Willow closed her eyes, her body taut with inhibition.

“I think it’s the right one,” Tara’s voice whispered somewhere close to her ear. Closing her eyes, Willow allowed herself one tiny second of indecision before she knew she was unable to fight the burgeoning feelings welling up from her thighs, swelling into her loins and dancing wildly up to her chest.

Giving herself over to the moment, she allowed the barriers she had meticulously built to crumble somewhat, their foundations giving way under the heat at her back from the voluptuous body now being pressed against her own. She had traced the curve of Tara’s breasts with her eyes so many times; she could picture them clearly in her head right now. She could feel their softness, pillowing against her spine, bringing passion and desire exploding into white lights behind her eyes.

“Are you sure?” Willow asked in a small voice, her fingers curling into claws that raked against the wood of the bookshelf in front of her.

“I’m sure,” Tara’s mouth bumped once against her ear, her breath shifting the sheen of hair there before moving downwards, to the place where Willow’s pulse bumped maddeningly in her neck. “I’ve seen the others, and I don’t think that’s what I want.”

“But…but they might be…uh…useful,” Willow was slightly distracted by the fingers on her hips, that were now sliding up to the waistband of her pants, bypassing her t-shirt and deftly moving underneath. When the sensitive pads of flesh hit her stomach, Willow tensed, as did Tara. “Are you sure?” she whispered again, her voice full of trepidation.

Tara’s fingers danced lightly across the pale flesh underneath Willow’s t-shirt and she bent into the redhead’s neck. Her lips pressed once against the little hollow behind Willow’s ear, making the other girl squirm up against her, pressing herself more firmly into Tara’s body behind her. The fingers traced their way further up, to where the redhead’s breasts jutted out, skin meeting the purple lace of the bra Willow wore.

“Willow,” Tara breathed, inhaling the scent of her sweet Willow, the way it drifted over her senses like a caress. “Oh Willow, I’m so sure. I can’t think of anything else I’m more sure of right now.” She cradled the girl against her, nuzzling her mouth against the other girl’s neck, her hands now moving up to cup the breasts that seemed to fit so perfectly into her hands. Removing her lips from the redhead’s neck, she lifted her mouth to Willow’s ear. “I wasn’t sure if you…if you wanted…”

“I do,” Willow’s assent was a plea that rang music in Tara’s ears. “I know. I want to…I want you to.”

The barriers finally crumbled into dust and Tara leaned forward, capturing Willow’s neck between her lips, pulling and kissing in a trail that led downwards to where the curve of the redhead’s shoulder was hidden under the neck of her t-shirt. Increasing her grip, Tara pulled Willow back against her, the backs of the redhead’s thighs bumping against the blonde’s. Willow’s knees threatened to buckle and she threw her hands backwards, meeting the denim of Tara’s pants and gripping it with relish. Digging her fingers in, she grasped onto the other girl in a manner that was incongruously desperate and ultimately controlled.

“Willow? Tara?” Giles’ voice cut through the silence of the library and reached them where they stood pushed up against one another in the stacks.

They froze.

Willow’s eyes widened in horror as neither girl moved, almost afraid to give away their location. Tara’s lips stopped moving against her, and the blonde’s hold on her breasts increased in a panic. Willow felt her fingers dig deep into Tara’s thighs, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the other girl.

“We’re back here! We’re studying! Studying really hard!” Willow shouted, aware that her voice had a strained tone to belie her words of appeasement.

“I don’t want to interrupt you,” Giles replied, his voice drifting as though from a distance, echoing up to the dome of the library before falling on the static ears of the two girls. “I just have to go out on an errand for a short while. I’ll be back in about an hour. I trust that should give you enough time to get what you need.”

Tara smothered a giggle that was rooted not so much in humor but in the irony of the situation. Leaning forward against Willow, she drew in a breath and held it. The seconds passed endlessly before Willow, frowning desperately in the subterfuge of it all, sucked in a short breath and tried to form the appropriate response.

“We’ll be done by then!” she shouted, far too loudly for it to be convincing. But it seemed enough to appease the librarian, who called back a farewell and moved away, the library door groaning on its hinges as it swung shut behind his exit.

Silence filled the seconds between them.

It was only when both girls exhaled that they realized they had been holding their breath. Slumping against the body behind her, Willow loosened her grip on Tara’s thighs, the blonde thankfully shifting her legs as the feeling returned to them.

“Well that was…”

“…close,” Tara giggled, finishing Willow’s sentence.

“Yeah,” the redhead agreed, still conscious that Tara had neither moved away nor continued her ministrations.

“That was kind of a mood killer huh?” Tara said, resting her chin on Willow’s shoulder. The redhead could feel her smile, and somehow that seemed to make things a little better. She hung her head forward and felt Tara let go of her, her fingers tracing a return pattern down underneath her t-shirt and out. Willow felt the loss of the other girl’s touch instinctively, and her mouth took a downward turn.

Twisting around, she leant against the bookshelf as Tara took a tiny step back, regarding the redhead closely. Two tiny lines formed in between the blue eyes that narrowed slightly as Willow shifted nervously under their gaze.

“You’re not really uh…” Tara held up her hand in the air, twirling her fingers around as though it would help the flow of conversation. Closing her eyes and clamping her lips firmly together, she paused for a minute. Then, giving a curt nod as though she had made up her mind, she opened her eyes, dropping her hand against her hip with a slight smack. “You’re not comfortable. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Willow protested, lifting her eyes to let her gaze roam over the worried features in front of her. “No really, it’s not that, it’s just, you know,” she lifted her hand and gestured around them, “library. Study. Not synonymous with the touching and uh…” Trailing off, she swallowed at the delicious memory of Tara’s fingers under her clothes. “Touching,” she finished lamely.

“I know,” Tara replied. She opened her mouth to add something but decided against it. Least said, soonest mended, she thought wearily. She had been stupid to think that stolen time with Willow could ever result in anything. Ever. How could someone like Willow ever look at her in that way? Why would she? This had all been some stupid fantasy that she should never have allowed herself to have in the first place. And Willow thinks she’s a dork, she sighed impatiently at herself. You just beat her into first place in that category.

Willow stepped forward, pushing herself up off the bookshelf and moved towards Tara, but the blonde sidestepped at the same time, increasing the space and distance between them. Holding up her hand to halt the redhead’s open mouthed protestations, Tara shook her head.

“You know what? It’s okay,” she pressed her lips into a firm line to punctuate her disappointment. “I’m so stupid…it’s fine.” She reached past Willow to retrieve the book that had started this whole charade, a hardness entering her eyes as she did so. Best to end it now, quickly, before they both got embarrassed and it was impossible to salvage even a friendship from this. Looking down, she could hardly bear to see the expression on Willow’s face. Once again you’re a true winner in the dork parade, she told herself angrily. You keep trying, hoping you’ll get it right and all you do is make a big mess of things.

As her hand slid over the lip of the bookshelf, she heard the short inhalation of the redhead, a sound of horror or realization, she wasn’t sure. Closing her senses against it; pulling away from the emotion that was bubbling under the surface, she put her fingertips onto the cold plastic cover of the book, knowing that to walk away now would surely indicate doom for any chance of anything with Willow.

“No,” the whispered tone of the redhead reached Tara’s ears, straining the physical reaction of the blonde into a shivering response.

“Don’t,” Tara muttered, shaking her head, her hair swinging over her shoulders. “Don’t make it worse.”

“Tara…” Willow moved closer, blocking Tara’s path to the book, her hand resting on the blonde’s arm.

Tara shook it off, turning to face Willow, her bottom jaw jutting out defiantly. “It’s fine Willow, really,” she said, her voice low and tremulous.

“No, it’s not fine,” Willow frowned, her gaze searching the blonde’s. “How can you say that when we were just….when you were just…” she shook her head fiercely, her hair bobbing around her face. “Tara, please.” The blonde didn’t fail to hear the note of desperation entering Willow’s voice, but hardened her face against it, hoping against hope that she could make herself walk away from this. “Talk to me,” she pleaded, her lip quivering in the sight of the emotion flooding her throat.

Tara’s hair fell forward to hide her face from view, and she frowned behind the curtain of gold, anxiety working its way over her face. Honesty hadn’t ever been much a part of her life; not that she lied, she just omitted. She supposed that the sin of omission was the lesser of two evils in the end. Not telling wasn’t like pretending. At least, not to other people. To herself, it had always been the venial sin.

“I think about you Willow,” she said slowly, carefully picking her way over the words before they chose to dance and elude her mouth. “From that first day, I saw you and I think about you. All the time. Like, every day.” She let out a bitter laugh, “It’s stupid I know and I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t. You’ve been so good, helping me s-s-study and everything, I c-c-can’t…” She bit her lip, her stutter getting the better of her at last. Cursing its dumbing of her outpouring, she tried to slow her breathing down, tried to calm her ragged nerves. Don’t look at her; if you don’t look at her, it’s not like talking to her at all.

“Th-thank you for your t-time,” she blurted, closing her eyes against the final insult her mind had to throw at her. “You’ve been really – “

Two hands set themselves firmly on her shoulders, pushing her roughly back against the hard wood of the bookshelf. The exhalation of surprise was halfway out of her mouth when a pair of lips fastened themselves onto it. Willow’s kiss was inexperienced and rough with the untamed passion of pure desire, the lips parting to allow a questing tongue to reach towards Tara. Hardly able to believe what was happening, the blonde opened her mouth and accepted the contact; her arms instinctively reaching up and around the slight figure of the redhead to hold her close, both girls clutching at one another as though this was the last embrace, not the first.

Stretching out her body against Tara’s, Willow was aware of the softness of the girl’s lips against her own, and the firmness of the embrace into which she was being enticed. Tara’s hands slipped up and around her, fingers pulling at the flimsy t-shirt she wore, pushing it up so that hands could touch skin. And the contact was made.

Devouring Tara’s mouth, Willow was only half aware of her own movement. It was instinctive; the manner in which she slid her leg in between the other girl’s finding a warmth spreading over her thigh that was encouraging and stimulating. The heat emanating from Tara’s pelvis began a slow and steady rhythm inside Willow’s head, urging her on to touch, explore, and fascinate herself with Tara’s lips and tongue and taste. Pushing her tongue more deeply into the other girl’s mouth, she was aware of an almost detached interest in the kiss, the sensations blinding their way through her mind in an explosion of color and light and feeling.

Without consciously knowing what she was doing, Willow pawed at Tara’s shirt, her fingers picking their way around the material in an effort to get underneath; to the skin that she knew was her goal, her desire. Whispering the girl’s name, Willow tore her mouth away from the lips that were now swollen with kisses and reddened with want. She frowned; pulling at the shirt the blonde wore, tugging on the buttons that were stubborn underneath her shaking touch.

Half smiling, delirious with Willow’s kisses, Tara pushed the other girl’s fingers away and shucked the material up over her head, throwing the shirt to one side. She glanced at Willow’s eyes, momentarily flicking up to meet her own, a wondrous smile fleeting over the redhead’s lips. Gazing down at the twin globes of flesh in front of her, Willow was only aware of a need to touch, to caress, to let her senses explore the body of the other woman. She had filled the dreams of the redhead enough. Now was the time for reality. Leaning forward, she placed kisses along Tara’s collarbone, nipping with her lips and taking in the sweet flesh as much as she could. By the time she reached the white cotton bra, Tara’s breathing had intensified and increased enough to let Willow know this was what she wanted.

Fingers pulled on her own t-shirt. Barely thinking twice, Willow wrenched it up around her neck, tugging until it slipped over her hair with a crackle of static, flying through the air to land on the ground near Tara’s discarded clothing. Hardly able to be away from Tara’s skin for a second, the redhead resumed her attentions with voracity, pressing her lips against Tara’s neck, one hand reaching up to brush aside the blonde hair with trembling fingers.

She really wants me, Tara’s fevered brain threw at her almost mockingly. She wondered whether this was some figment of her imagination, another one of her daydreams where Willow was attracted to her in return and they consummated their want with caresses and kisses and desire-filled moments. It would be so easy to believe that this wasn’t real, she knew that. But the moment Willow’s tongue flickered up the side of her neck and nestled just under her ear lobe, Tara’s body screamed the reality into her senses. Her pulse banging in her eardrums, Tara couldn’t help but lean forward, her head hanging over Willow’s shoulder, their breasts bumping against one another, restricted as they were by the bras both girls were wearing.

Scrabbling up the length of Willow’s back, Tara’s fingers imprinted themselves into the faint dip of the redhead’s spine, feeling her way up to where the offending bra strap circumvented her body. Numbed fingertips worked feverishly to unclasp the material, then sped upwards to relieve the redhead of her shoulder straps.

“Take it off,” Tara murmured, her mouth close to Willow’s ear. Pushing the other girl backwards a little, she laid her palms over the shoulders in front of her that were even now drooping with shame and a self-conscious flush. “Willow, I want to see you, all of you,” she added, her eyes dipping downwards to meet the flash of green hidden under heavy eyelids.

Her right hand smoothed a pathway up Willow’s neck, up to lie against the hot cheek, fingers splaying out to assuage the shyness she saw coloring the girl’s response. Leaning forward, Tara pressed her forehead against Willow’s, smiling into the innocent expression rising towards her own. A blur of green worked its way into her consciousness and she sighed inwardly, taking comfort and giving love in return.

“You’re so beautiful,” Tara sighed, seeing the denial rise up strongly in the other girl’s eyes. Her fingers pressed into the soft cheek underneath her touch. “No, you are,” she affirmed, closing her eyes and feeling the want rise up inside her chest.

“No, you are,” Willow said, her voice husky and low, tickling its way into Tara’s ears. She lifted her head, Tara stepping back an inch, and let her green gaze ride up and down the other girl’s heaving chest, resting hungrily on the twin creamy mounds in front of her. “God, you really are,” she breathed, her fingers moving to pull on the straps of Tara’s bra.

There was no choreography to this dance; both girls knew that. There was no set of rules, no order of play, nothing to guide or tell them what to do. But they knew, all the same. Touching one another simply yet firmly, each girl ran her hands over the skin of the other, until both were naked from the waist up. Clothes seemed an impediment to the inevitable moment when they stood clasped against one another. Skin against skin; it was so important to Willow to feel this woman’s warmth against her. Closing her eyes, she began the slow luxurious trail from Tara’s collarbone, moving downwards to the place where her eyes had rested only seconds before.

Letting out a sigh from the base of her throat, Tara felt Willow’s tongue flick against her skin, the feather-softness of her breath encouraging goose bumps to rise up in the wake of her kiss. Sucking the skin into her mouth, Willow was aware of how sweet it tasted on her tongue, the tip of her tongue painting lazy circles down over the swell of Tara’s breast. Bending her head, strands of copper fell against Tara’s chest as Willow finally breathed her way to the rosy nipple that was hard and erect. Pushing her lips over it, Willow took it into her mouth, rubbing the flat of her tongue over the tip. The groan that Tara let achingly slide from her mouth sent a plucking chord of desire flying into Willow’s loins. She was aware of the heat emanating from her very center, and wriggled her way forwards, parting her legs to allow Tara’s thigh to push up between them. The firmness of the blonde’s leg sent yet another shivering sensation into her wetness, and Willow couldn’t help herself. Taking Tara’s nipple in between her teeth, she bit down softly, with just enough pressure to make the other girl squirm and moan again, her fingers grasping Willow’s shoulders firmly.

Rubbing herself with greater pressure onto Tara’s thigh, Willow let go of the nipple in her mouth, the red tip popping from her lips, puckered and shiny. Smiling, the redhead looked up into Tara’s eyes, gazing down at her. The cobalt depths seemed to sparkle with a new emotion as the blonde tried to gain some sense of what was happening, her mouth open and aware only of the light circling fingertips of the redhead on her stomach.

Shaking her head imperceptibly, a slow sensual smile grew over those parted lips, the tip of Tara’s tongue reaching out to moisten her dry mouth. Blinking slowly, she reached out and hooked a finger into the belt loops of Willow’s pants. Her other hand moved forwards and gained a similar hold on the other side of Willow’s waist. Tugging gently, Tara pulled the other girl towards her, a lazy smile curving the redhead’s mouth as she sensed the intent on the blonde’s face.

Closer, Willow moved, her breathing increasing, bright spots of color on her cheeks. Her nails scraped langorously over Tara’s stomach, heightening the slow drift of body towards body. Once the redhead was almost touching Tara, the blonde let go of Willow’s pants with her right hand, and trailed her fingers near the waistband, teasing the button out of its hole and slowly inching the zipper downwards.

Catching her breath, Willow closed her eyes and leaned her head backwards as Tara parted the lips of the material over her panties. The aching between her legs was so acute that she could barely register anything else apart from the incessant beating of her pulse and the heat that her pussy was producing. If she had given half a moment to even process the torrid thoughts her mind was throwing at her, she probably would have been mortified that Willow Rosenberg could ever act this way. But right now, at this second, she didn’t care. All she cared about was the fact that Tara’s fingers were smoothing themselves down over her panties, pushing further and further inside her jeans.

Her fingers reaching up, needing something to touch, something to hold, Willow found the bookshelf behind Tara’s head. The wood bit into her palm as she pressed her hand against it, pushing her pelvis forward so that it bumped against the tips of Tara’s fingers.

The blonde buried her head in Willow’s neck, her mouth nipping and tasting the flesh there. “God I want you,” she breathed. “I want you so much it’s killing me not to have you right now. A-a-and I know I sh-sh-should…” she broke off, squeezing her eyes shut, knowing that words weren’t going to be her strong point right now.

Thrusting forwards with her pelvis again, Willow felt Tara’s fingers inch closer to the wetness that was consuming her every sense, throbbing into her whole body, making it a pillar of lust and need.

“Do it,” she growled, her free hand scrabbling at Tara’s trousers, tearing the button free and wrenching at the zipper. “I can’t bear it any more,” she pushed her fingers at the soft swell of belly and moved on, downwards, slipping her fingertips underneath the panties that the other girl wore. “I need you, I need you right now Tara,” she gasped, questing ever downwards until she felt the wiry curls of hair against her touch.

The blonde leapt forward at the touch, a moan exhaling from deep within her throat, her eyes flickering shut. Wrapping her arm around Willow, she pulled her against her, their bodies tumbling together in a frenzied passion that moved them to touch one another almost at the same time.

The hot wetness enclosed Willow’s fingers and she probed forward, pushing her hand deeper. Her forefinger brushed over a nub of flesh held captive by the folds of the other girl’s lips and she felt Tara whimper against her neck. She began moving her finger back and forth over the hard, tight clitoris, a rush of triumph and want flooding her own pussy into molten wetness. Panting, Tara began moving her hips into a rhythm of hard fierceness, explosions going off in the back of her mind, throwing lightning shards of white against her eyes. She felt Willow slip two fingers deep inside her and pushed down on them, taking them into her with relish. Never, her mind rumbled at her, still thinking at the back of everything, still giving her thoughts and promises and emotions that she knew would tumble back to her later on; it’s never been like this. Not with anyone. Not ever.

“Yes,” she breathed once against Willow’s neck, the redhead’s breath coming in short hot bursts over her shoulder. Grunting, the blonde shoved her pussy hard onto Willow’s hand once more, this time matching each thrust with her own fingers, parting the sweet damp curls of Willow’s pussy to feel her skin enveloped in a hot tightness of fluidity that rolled over her hand like sweet molasses. Pleasure followed each path that Tara’s fingers took, sliding up towards the source of the wetness, then forging a trail of fire inwards that elicited a gasp from the redhead as she froze against Tara.

“Are you okay?” Tara frowned, stopping at once.

Willow shoved herself up against Tara and grunted once, the rumble of desire in her throat enough to spark off a chain reaction of echoes in Tara’s body. “Don’t…” she breathed heavily, “stop.” The redhead pushed her own fingers into Tara and drew them out again, almost to the fingertip. Her thumb reached for Tara’s clitoris, beginning a slow tremble that started somewhere in the blonde’s knees and wandered upwards to where Willow was again pushing her fingers back inside the wet pussy that claimed them gratefully. Dropping her head onto Tara’s shoulder, Willow breathed in the faint scent of perspiration that rose from the girl’s back, tasting the hot skin there with her lips.

An agonised sigh came from Tara’s mouth, and she too, plunged her fingers deep inside Willow, stretching out the skin that swallowed them. It hurts, Willow thought to herself, almost on a detached scientific level, it hurts in a good way. I didn’t know that pain like this could be so good. She pulled a ragged breath into her lungs and began to move her hips from side to side, circling the fingers inside her like a predator with its prey. Her mouth stretched wide in a grin, giving herself entirely to the sensation of Tara in her, and herself in Tara.

Tara’s fingers slid slowly, torturously out of Willow and stroked up and down the inner lips of her pussy, exciting the redhead to a whimpering, begging, mumble of pleading that came trailing from her mouth as she teased Tara’s clitoris with her thumb. Tara let out an exhalation that was part laugh and part moan, finding Willow’s clitoris, hard and throbbing, with her fingers. Squeezing it gently, she then pinched harder, loving the way that the redhead squealed a reply of pleasure and shoved her pussy against Tara’s hand.

“Please,” Willow moaned, “please Tara, oh god please…” She squirmed herself against the blonde and increased her own pressure in the blonde’s pussy, both of them sending the other into a spiral of trembling passion that resounded inside their chests; hearts beating so fast that each was sure they would burst.

“Willow…” Tara groaned, her mouth, eyes, head, body so full of the other girl that all she knew was Willow. All she felt was Willow. All she ever wanted to feel was this; this moment; this passion; this girl.

Tara’s pussy tightened around Willow’s fingers, grasping onto the girl’s hand as though it too, was trying to keep her there forever. The pressure of the blonde’s fingers on her clitoris increased and Willow felt herself on the brink of a huge chasm, into which she wanted to throw everything she had ever been, and ever would be. Waiting for her there was Tara; she knew now that this was what she had waited for; this girl; this savior. Tensing herself as the shudders of her orgasm took hold, she pushed her fingers far into the blonde, feeling the walls of flesh grip her fiercely. She brushed her thumb against Tara’s clitoris once more and then felt the other girl pull her tightly against her, so tightly that it felt as though all the breath was pushed from her body. Willow’s fingers bore down on the wooden shelf she gripped, so hard that the edge of the bookshelf cut into her flesh, the hard lines biting at her palm. But she didn’t care. All she knew was that she was going to come, and Tara was going to come, and this was where she wanted to be, trapped in this feeling, for a long long time.

“Look at me,” Tara whispered hoarsely, her hand clutching at Willow’s back, raking her nails down from the shoulder blade to the dip where her waist moved in. “Willow, look at me.”

Raising her head from where it pressed against Tara’s shoulder, Willow felt a sheen of sweat bead her forehead, matched by the shining skin of the other girl. They locked eyes, each one communicating more with one look than they had ever done with words. A faint smile played over Tara’s mouth as she searched Willow’s gaze, knowing that this wasn’t the end, it was only the beginning. The answering smile from the redhead gave credence to her touch, gave worth to the sensations ripping through her body and pushed her, fleetingly, over the edge into an orgasm that shuddered from her loins up to her chest and gripped at her heart.

Letting out a cry, Willow forced her hips forward, her knees threatening to buckle under the touch of the blonde. She felt the shaking sensation biting into the base of her throat, tightening it so that her breathing was short and fast. Falling forward, she felt Tara steady her, the blonde’s grasp comfortingly strong and firm. Leaning into the other girl, Willow felt a sudden spring of tears in her eyes, and buried her face into the other girl’s neck, riding out the last vestiges of the orgasm as it marched through her body and left her humming in its wake.

***

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You know I've been through hell...Joss can't you see, there'll be nothing left of me. You made me believe...

[Sela]

I think I love you, but what am I so afraid of...I'm afraid that I'm not sure of, the love there is no cure for...

You Friggin' Rock, Ruth!!!

--Sela

[tommo]

Ah Sela, I have also been known to roll...

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You know I've been through hell...Joss can't you see, there'll be nothing left of me. You made me believe...

[Sela]

Rockin' and rollin'--I love you any which way!!!

Actually, I think rollin' might just be a little more interesting...

Grrrr Arrggghhh! Meeeooowww!!!

--Sela

[dreiser]

i yuv you, ruth, i yuv you long time. but wtf was the chair strokin'? you know what i like.

nic

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clique me, baby. clique me hard.

[jomarch]

Thanks Tommo, now that was one heck of a read. You are the queen of NC-17. Now I just have to stop blushing before I go for my meeting .

I now owe you a verse in the Ode. You definitely deserve it

PS, what kind of accessories would you require your mittens to wear?

[tommo]

I don't want mittens. That's all so sordid and unnecessary. Money will do, thanks.

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You know I've been through hell...Joss can't you see, there'll be nothing left of me. You made me believe...

[Sela]

Ruth:

Money, huh? Um, how do pesos sound? I think that's all I've got. Hey, but I do have leather whips and such...would that do? I only bring them out on special occasions. And you're oh so very special...

--Sela

[This message has been edited by Sela (edited March 11, 2002).]

[tommo]

Um...

Sela, put the bottle down and go to bed love. You'll only regret this in the morning.

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You know I've been through hell...Joss can't you see, there'll be nothing left of me. You made me believe...

[Sela]

The bottle has already been put down. Besides, Jaegermeister--yikes!!! I am an insomniac. I'm also trying to hold on to ANYTHING at this point. I just wanted to show my appreciation...thanks. Muchas gracias. Can't a girl just show her appreciation anymore?

--Sela

[This message has been edited by Sela (edited March 11, 2002).]

[tommo]

Your appreciation is much appreciated. Thank you. I like writing "the smut".

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You know I've been through hell...Joss can't you see, there'll be nothing left of me. You made me believe...

[Pixie-Muso]

Bloody hell Ruth! How am I supposed to think about Thutmose III and right this frickin' history essay now? That was one hell of a read!

You rock, Ruth!

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"...the hardest thing in this world is to live in it..."
~Buffy, The Gift.

[This message has been edited by Pixie-Muso (edited March 11, 2002).]You rock, Ruth!

[neta]

Oh Wow! That was so good. I will never look at a library the same again.

[Kel]

thanks for putting a smile back on my face

it says part 1.... so there's a part 2, right??

[MadeinNZ]

A big WOO and HOO. Tommo smut is back (you are back right?). Please don't let this be a temporary daliance.

Amazing fic. I actually jumped when Giles called out in the library (and bonus points for the use of the word "plethora"). You nail Willowspeak ever time("traitorous mouth").

Don't go away again. Stay a little while longer.

[*Willow*]

wow! That was .... wow *stillnotabletotalk*
Great stuff!

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"Oh baby, want me to rub your tummy? She likes it when I ... stop explaining things"

[nika]

*whew!* Wow Ruth, yes you rock and roll much! Romance and smut I'm in looove *erm* in lust at the very least *whew*

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"The word 'GULP!'comes to mind." Tara

[xita]

Ruth truly spell worthy!

Brilliantly hmm.. sexy and cute too. W/t are so cute even in the middle of hmm you know.. fucking!

[This message has been edited by xita (edited March 31, 2002).]

[Brynn]

Ruth! I love you ... really I do -- great story -- thanks so much!

[Katharyn]

Wonderful Ruth... just what I needed.

Thanks!

Katharyn

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You hear that baby?

[Warduke]

Really great fic Ruth, sweet, cute, romantic and hot!

Trevor was mightily impressed

[tommo]

Cheers people.

I'm back for a limited period only until the bitterness kicks in once more and I take snarky comments from shitheads seriously and it puts me off doing anything. Really.

Ahem, anyway. Yes, I've decided to keep my spirits up right now by writing what I want to see. Namely, Willow and Tara mooning over one another; holding hands; grinning all over their faces and gettin' down and dirty as often as they can. I figured that if I hold back on the storyline and get with the smut I should be able to make this a three-parter.

At least.

OH! "I never do anything. I'm very seldom naughty." What a freakin' great quote.

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You know I've been through hell...Joss can't you see, there'll be nothing left of me. You made me believe...

[Enigmatic]

Thank you Ruth...

You always know what we need!

[AutumnT]

You know I think I enjoyed the words PART 1 almost as much as the smut. Keep feeding that muse babe, we need it.

------------------
Autumn

I have the sudden urge to dedicate my productive cooperation.

[MoMack]

Hooray for escapism! Hooray for naughty touching in the library amongst leather-bound...MmmHmm. The library is definately synonymous with touching of the girl on girl (specifically W/T) variety. Grrr. Thanks so much for writing something that lifted my heart

[Nat]

This story is SO good already!!
my god it is SO lucky that i cant get to this site at work or i'd never get anything done!!!
I love the way that you made willow & tara so cute before-during-after !!!
Can't wait for part 2!!!!!!!!!!1

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Willow ;I had too much nog.

Tara ;Oh, baby, want me to rub your tummy?She likes it when i......stop explaining things.

[Blue77]

WOW!!!! Awesome read ... really liked the smut by the way ... can't hide it

Xita - You're so right, they are so cute even when they're fucking!! I think it's the cuteness that always gets me about Wil & Tara, they are so adorable together!!!

That was definitely a fix of 'vicarious smoochies'!! Three parter ... tommo could you make that five, by any chance?

*Sam*

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"Infested roots? Trying to turn me on?" ~ Tara
"I have to try now!" ~ Wil

[jessan15]

Um, I don't know if I should be admitting this or not but....I'm very...ah...

Going to take a cold shower...NOW!

Awesome...if there's more...I'm willing to offer cash incentives.

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Love will find a way.

[Tiggrscorpio]

Wow, tommo. Willow and Tara in the stacks. Simply brilliant. Glad you're back, even if it's just for awhile.

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She's my everything!

[Sheila]

Love it! More, more, more, pleaaaase! :-)

I read this before going to work. Boy, it was a long day! But now, I can re-read it and just, uh, er, relax.

Love your writing style. Love smut. Always.