When Erynn found herself – Post 10 (Update)
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Author name – CopperAndGold
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Rating – NC-17 (Strong)
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Disclaimer - This is an adult fic. There will be some angst, smut, bad language, difficult subject matters (They will be noted prior to posting) The characters' developments were taken from season 5 - A bit after the episode: Family. Anything that is canon and prior to this episode is fair game. Oh, there's also a small reference to a funny exchange in season 6 between Anya and Tara that I just couldn't stop from using. Even with all this, there's comedy too! Everything after Family becomes A/U.
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Feedback – Please, I love your words.
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Summary – Willow and Tara make a new friend. She's... interesting.
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Notes – Things to look out for: A flashback involving violence, a loved one gets hurt. On the plus side, there’s Willow and Tara lovin’.
The breaks squeaked loudly as Xander brought the car to a stop at a red light. “I’m just sayin’, she was kinda jumpy.” The carpenter turned his head towards his friend when he heard the sound of yet another camera shutter. “She didn’t show you how to use the camera on that thing for you to take pictures of…” Xander glanced at the road again, noticing the light turning, he pressed the accelerator and kept his eyes on the road, “… what
are you taking pictures of, anyway?”
Buffy turned the phone this way and that, pointing the lens at the scenery outside her window, “I’m just testing the zoom.” They were making their way to the cemetery, having picked up a short sword and some trusty stakes from The Slayer’s dorm room after dropping Erynn off. “Of course she’s jumpy, Xand. Think about it… She just learned a few days ago that vamps and demons exist. Found out by getting attacked by a vamp. Then, she gets followed by some creep.” Pointing the lens at a bus stop bench when the car slowed at a stop sign, she took another picture, “She’s not like us. This isn’t every-day type stuff for her... It’s more like: ‘Why did I take the red pill?’ You know?”
“I guess you’re right. We do bring the crazy into people’s lives, huh?” He did a double-take, “Wait, did you just reference ‘The Matrix’?” Xander grinned like a giddy school boy, “You’re
so coming with me to Comic-Con next year!”
“Whoa there, Super-Nerd.” Buffy chuckled as she went through her pictures, “That was a good movie but it doesn’t mean…” Her voice trailed off for a second before she exclaimed, “Stop the car!”
Xander winced, “Buff, I wasn’t gonna nag you about it…” He said, having misinterpreted his friend’s outburst, “I just thought…”
He was cut short when Buffy shouted, “Xander, STOP the damn car!!” She was frantically looking between the phone and outside the back window, “Where was this?”
“Ok, ok,” Xander pulled over as quickly and safely as he could, “What’s going on?”
She punched the roof light to life and leaned into her friend so he could see the screen on the phone, “Look, behind the bench and the bushes.” Buffy pressed a button a few times making the picture zoom in, “See that? It’s huge!”
“Yipes,” He flinched, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have ourselves a yogurt demon.” Swiveling his head around, he looked out the back window trying to discern where the picture was taken, “So, turn around?” Xander asked, not sure whether they would follow the demon or continue on with the initial plan.
Buffy thought for only a second, “Yeah, turn around. Try to find this bench while I call the Witch Fu's.” Her fingers already busy punching in the numbers to Xander’s apartment.
The carpenter turned off the roof light before turning the car around, “What do we do if we see it?”
The Slayer huffed, “Still working on that. Hey, Tara it’s me.” She switched the phone to speaker so Xander could listen as well, “What’s our stalker up to?”
“He’s still in the cemetery,” The sound became muffled as Tara apparently covered the mouthpiece, “Thanks, sweetie.” She took a sip of what Buffy could only guess was tea and spoke up again, “He hasn’t moved much since you left.”
Buffy nodded as she kept an eye out for the elusive demon, “We have a change of plans. We had to turn around,”
“H-hold on,” Tara said before shuffling around, “Ok, you’re on speaker. Willow’s with me.”
“We spotted the Gurtrall,” The Slayer said, “I accidentally took a picture of it, we’re trying to find it again now.”
Xander pointed ahead and to the left, “Trees don’t bend like that,” The trees in the distance swayed drastically before gradually coming to a stop again. “Bet you there’s something big pushing on them. Something annoying with all the fruits on the bottom…”
“Xander, I’m going to hurt you.” Buffy growled. “Guys, I think we’re closing in on it. I’ll be on foot once we’re close enough.” She noticed a dark shape cross between some shrubbery ahead and pointed at it to guide Xander, “I’ll have the phone with me.”
“Buffy,” Willow’s tone was worried, “What are you going to do? This thing… Anya made it sound pretty scary.”
“Big and scary is what I do, Will.” She tied her hair back, “Not going to confront it anyway, we need to know who it works for.”
“So,” Tara said tentatively, “You’re going to follow it?” They heard a thump and Anya’s anxious voice get louder as she rushed in from the front room, “The Gurtrall? Xander isn’t going!”
“Don’t worry, Anya. Once I’m on foot he’s going back home.” She kept her eyes on the large shape she could barely make out in the dark.
“What?” Xander sputtered, “No way, I should wait for you!”
“Three blocks, then let me out.” Buffy reached for the short sword in the back seat, “You’re going home because you’d just be sitting there. We wouldn’t be able to contact you or you, us.” She rested her hand on the door handle, ready to jump out, “No time for a debate, you’re going home.”
“I for one,” Anya said, “Agree with Buffy. She is being a very sensible leader.”
“Be careful, Buff.” Willow said, “We’ll be by the phone.”
***
The cemetery was relatively quiet, although Spike could tell there was activity around.
Where is she?He’d been prowling the grounds, waiting for the Slayer to make an appearance, having resigned himself to share with her what he knew about Damien Brice and his right hand. But, it was well into her patrolling time and still, no sign of Buffy.
When the only activity he’d noticed was that of vampires and low-level demons, Spike started to wonder what better things The Slayer had to do than to clean up.
He decided to make his way to the entrance gate and wait for her there.
On the way, though, he saw a figure walking away from a prone body on the ground. His curiosity piqued, Spike got closer to the supposed victim. “Had a rough go of it eh, mate?” He pushed aside a limp arm with the toe of his boot. The scent he picked up in the air around the body was easily recognizable, its source having left his crypt not that long ago.
The human male at his feet had been savaged. His coat torn and bloodied, his chest naked and littered with vamp bites. These wounds hadn’t been this poor fella’s undoing, though. Spike was pretty sure the man had lost his head even before having been bit once.
Jurrot…Bending over the body, the vampire rustled through the man’s coat thinking there might be money in the pockets. He knew his kind, especially the young ones, were more likely to be in it for the blood than anything of monetary value. He pulled out some gum, keys and a plastic card.
No money.
Was worth a look... He nudged the body with his boot again, “Wanker.” Spike groused. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out his trusty cigarettes and lighter. In a cloud of smoke, he inspected the items more closely. When He flipped the Espresso Pump gift card, his cigarette paused mid-way to his mouth.
Bloody hell… Spike thought as he read Willow’s name on the card.
The vampire agitatedly looked around him, not sure what to make of his discovery.
Where IS she!?***
She languidly ran the lavender soap over her skin, breathing in the warm and humid air of the shower. Her heartbeat steady and strong, Erynn kept her focus on the moment and what she wanted it to bring. A heavy and warm pulsing radiated outward from her lower belly with each pass of the fragrant soap.
Her perspective on sexuality had unfortunately been skewed at a young age. With Loreli’s help, she’d learned about love and lust. The interplay between them and, the deep connection that forms when both exist within a relationship. In theory, she understood what her great aunt had taught her. Putting it into practice wasn’t something Erynn was ready to do with anyone, though. Complications weren’t sexy and, being who she was brought with it plenty of those in the bedroom.
Her aunt had balked at the girl’s decision to stop having sex. Loreli wholeheartedly believed in the importance of a person’s sexuality and their ability to share something meaningful with someone else. But, once Erynn had explained that she hadn’t had a single positive sexual experience despite having been sexually active since the age of thirteen - that, sex had always left her feeling empty and ashamed, or angry - her aunt understood. So, she’d decided to focus on learning to love herself first and foremost, which was - both of them could agree – the most important thing.
Self-love was safer and less daunting, anyway.
Twisting the knobs, she turned the water off and patted herself dry with a fluffy towel. Wrapping herself in an equally fluffy robe, Erynn made her way back to her room.
The scent of jasmine with a hint of vanilla welcomed her. She’d draped red material over the lamps, plunging the room into a sensuous, red glow. The sounds of waves and building drums whispered from the stereo and soothed the empty spaces. Her bed had been prepared with her silkiest sheets.
In front of her mirror she let the robe fall around her ankles. Erynn took in the physicality of her body, running her fingers along the curves and dips. Her dragon tattoo peeked at her from over her shoulder, its red and orange body slithered down to her ribs to curl around her left hip.
Rubbing her skin with warmed body lotion, she lingered and dallied. Molding the fierce sexual tension that had been built up in her lower belly, into a languid and sensual energy flowing throughout her whole body.
And, when she felt it was time, she laid down and loved herself as best she could.
***
Doc huffed as his concentration kept being pulled from his task. Stevie Nicks’ voice belt out ‘Gold dust woman’ as Catherine, somewhat clumsily, danced and twirled singing along. “
Well, did she make you cry, Make you break down, shatter your illusions of love? And is it over now? Do you know how? Pick up the pieces and go home…”
Finally, the liquid contained in the bowl before him cleared as an image coalesced in its reflection. “Would you turn that off? I’m getting something.”
The music died a few moments later, “UC Sunnydale,” Doc pointed at the large bowl, “It should get more precise in a moment.”
The witch cackled derisively, “At least she made it to college.”
The image rippled and gradually became unfocused, another slowly taking its place over top, “Ah, here we go. This looks like a room.” He squinted at the image searching for clues, “One bed, feminine clothing and decorations…” Doc tried to look at a picture sitting on a desk but couldn’t make out what was in the frame. “There’s the cage.” He nodded at the bowl.
Catherine peered in, her lips twisting in disgust, “What possessed her to turn herself into a rodent?”
Doc shrugged, not caring in the least. Looking back into the bowl, the image had become crystal clear as the spell finished taking hold. His eyebrow quirked in suspicion, “Hm,” He intoned as he turned and reached for his ledger, “There are magical items in the room.” He said out loud, “I remember my divination for magic users showing a user or two at the campus.”
He ran his finger down the columns of neatly written information, names of places and/or people in one column and a number in the next. Doc’s finger stopped when it reached the entry he was looking for, “UC Sunnydale, Stevenson Hall. Room 220… two users. Judging by the room, probably witches.”
The woman looked over his shoulder and pointed at the numbers in the next column, “What are those?”
Doc pushed his glasses up his nose, “A scale. 1 to 10, 10 being the most realized power in relation to all those discovered.” He pointed at room 220, “Two witches, a 6 and a 7.”
Catherine was curious, “So, who’s the 10?” Her eyes tried to scan the open pages of Doc’s ledger for clues, “Where are you on the scale?”
Doc huffed, “You’re missing the point.” He promptly closed the book. “Your rat is in a room with two powerful witches.” Pulling his glasses off, he continued, “You don’t want your daughter to know you’re implicated, for which I’m very grateful. I’m not father material. But, it means we’ll need to do this remotely.”
The witch sat down in a chair and huffed, “And?”
He put his glasses back on to look once again into the bowl, “We’ll need hair from the rat.” Doc took a deep breath, “There doesn’t seem to be anyone home right now…”
“Well,” Catherine said smugly from her seat, “I can’t go, I look drunk just trying to take a few steps.”
His tail twitched against his robe, an annoyed rumble emanating from his chest, “Remind me why I’m doing this for you.”
The witch grinned saucily and leaned into him, “Because, I confuse the shit out of you?” Running a smooth finger down his cheek she continued in a seductive tone, “You could never resist a good mind-fuck.”
***
“Where is he going?” Willow was perched over the table along with her girlfriend, following the now moving stalker along his path across the map, “It’s almost like he’s lost or-or looking for something.”
Tara shrugged, “Wherever he’s going, he’s moving fast. Should we call Buffy?” She shook her head, dismissing her thought quickly, “No, never mind. She’s being all stealthy.”
“Yeah, could be dangerous.” The glowing dot rounded a street corner and seemed to be moving in the direction of the magic shop, “Huh…”
Xander looked at the map, “Huh, what huh?” He squinted, “Isn’t that where the Magic Box is?”
“Yeah, it is.” Willow said, “He must have been following us for a while if he knows about the Box.” She shared a worried look with Tara and reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. But, the indicator just kept going, not stopping at the shop at all. “Or not?”
“I knew it!” Anya’s triumphant cheer broke through as she quickly padded into the dining room, a book opened in her hands, “Gurtralls have a couple of weaknesses in battle.” She pointed at the page where a representation of the demon was drawn.
Tara stood and looked at the book, “Good, I’m sure Buffy could use all the help she can get.”
Anya nodded in agreement, “They get stunned for a few seconds when you hit the base of their spine with enough force.” Willow was frantically jotting this down while still keeping an eye on the map, “And, you can incapacitate them for a good while if you get close enough to cut above either one of his heels.” She giggled, “Should be called an Achilles demon. Of course, their tendons are like steel wire…”
“Hey!” Xander gleefully exclaimed, pointing in the air dramatically, “I have a tool for that!”
Her peripheral vision started shimmering as the voices in the room slowly became distant. Tara recognized what was about to happen. She quickly excused herself for the safety of the bathroom before she was assaulted with another flashback.
Her heart started racing, her palms sweaty as she saw herself-not herself standing above a man. Her dark, wild and wavy hair above a dirt streaked face. Harsh, hateful grey eyes glared as if seeing straight through him. Tara could feel something in her hand, wooden and thick. She felt twitchy and agitated but, powerful and… invincible. Angry. Hopeless and frighteningly angry.
Her leg pulled back and hit the man hard in his stomach. At the moment of impact - like the snap of a rubber band being let go from a great distance – Tara became Erynn.
“Don’t puke on my boots.” She said curtly when he coughed and sputtered as she circled him. The alley was grimy and stank, there were shouts from the front of the building she knew was a strip club. The music so loud its bass notes made the air pulsate and drowned out any sound trying to make its way out of the alley. Erynn wiped her nose again and sniffed loudly, “Got anything to say?” Her body twitched annoyingly and she tried to steady her jumping nerves by grinding her molars together.“Yeah,” He groaned angrily, alcohol dulling his senses to the point of antagonizing his attacker, “You’re nothing… Just a fucking junkie.” He spat, “You can’t be older than sixteen, go home to mommy little girl.” He tried to get up but a steel-toed boot to the ribs kept him down with a loud grunt. “Fucking bitch!”“Come here a lot?” Erynn asked him, ignoring his outburst and fiddling with the stick in her hand, “I bet you do. Your type always like these places.” She reached into his pants pocket, swatting his arm away when he tried to stop her from pulling out his wallet, “You don’t even have the smarts to be scared... Philippe.” Saying his name slowly as she read it off the driver’s license swimming before her eyes.When he kept quiet, nursing his ribs, she continued, “This must be your wife,” Erynn pulled out a picture, showed it to him and threw it and the wallet over her shoulder, “I’m sure you’re a great husband, aren’t you Philippe?”She straddled him, gripping the stick in her hand and hissed through clenched teeth, “You don’t remember me, do you? Oh look, now you’re starting to get scared…” Erynn ground herself into him roughly, “Tell me, why would a junkie like me know you, huh?” She slapped him hard across the face and grabbed his cheeks, squeezing when he was about to cry out, “I remember what you like, you know. It’s been a while. I was young and pretty high… but I do. You were special like that.” The girl said sweetly and patted his head.Philippe seemed to regain some sort of strength as he bucked his hips and swung at Erynn’s face, connecting a fist against her cheek. She fell off of him and he hastily tried to regain his feet but, the alcohol and his injuries made him stumble.A loud crack sounded as Erynn’s stick collided with the side of his head. He fell face first onto the pavement, his head bouncing against it with a sickening thud, “That hurt, asshole.” She worked her jaw open and closed a few times, easing the ache.His pants were pulled down to his knees without too much trouble, Philippe could only grunt and groan, his head bleeding profusely. “You never did use lube,” His underwear were soon torn down the middle, “So I won’t, either.”A loud snap brought Tara back to herself. She was shaking like a leaf, her hand gripping the towel rack so hard she’d split the hard plastic. “God… Erynn wh-”
“Tara?” Anya’s voice startled the witch as it sounded through the door, “Are you almost done in there?”
The door opened and as soon as the ex-vengeance demon saw the look in her friend’s eyes, she gently shoved her back into the room, following her in before closing the door behind them, “What happened? What is it?”
Tara was trembling with anger and fear. The lingering emotions from the memory mixed with her own confusing her. The witch shook her head, “J-just a flashback.” She gingerly sat on the lid of the toilet, “I’ll be o-ok.”
Anya didn’t buy her friend’s nonchalance one bit, “Flashback? You’re shaking and pale, Tara.” She crossed her arms over her chest, a look of deep concern etched on her face, “What’s going on? You’re scaring me.”
The witch looked up into her friends disturbed eyes and took a deep breath, “The cleansing s-spell for Erynn’s pendant. I got some of the liquid on me and, now… I have flashbacks of her l-life.” When her friend’s eyes shot wide, a determined look crossing her face she quickly added, “I tried to find a way to stop them. I haven’t found anything yet.”
“Well,” Anya said, perturbed, “Judging by how you look, that wasn’t a fun memory.” She shook her head angrily, “There’s got to be a way to stop them.”
“Anya,” Tara looked at her beseechingly, “Please don’t say anything to Will. She knows I get flashbacks already, this would just worry her more.”
It took a moment for a reaction to register over Anya’s face but, when it did it was one of understanding and incredulity, “Of all the things I thought you were, stupid wasn’t one of them.”
The witch blinked furiously, feeling the air being knocked out of her lungs by mere words, she breathed, “W-what?” Completely taken by surprise.
With her arms still firmly crossed over her chest, the ex-vengeance demon asked pointedly, “How many of these flashbacks have you kept from Willow?”
Tara shook her head, “Anya, she doesn’t need-“
But, she was quickly cut off by her friend, “Does she know what you go through?” Anya pushed on in an angry tone, “What you see and feel? Or, do you just have her pick up the pieces whenever this happens, without even knowing why?” She waved an exasperated hand, “You think she doesn’t worry already? Tara, you
know her… she’s probably feeling like she’s walking on eggshells, constantly wondering when the other shoe’s going to drop!”
“Shh!” The witch hissed between her teeth, “Please, keep your voice down.” She brought up a shaky hand and rubbed her forehead agitatedly, “I can’t just tell her about Erynn’s p-personal stuff, Anya.”
Her friend took a deep, composing breath, “Tara, you’re my best friend.” Anya’s eyes softened slightly, “You’re the nicest, most genuine person I’ve ever met.” She shook her head as her features hardened again, “But, this Mother Theresa crap has
got to stop. Quit ‘Team Martyr’, they always end up alone, dead or both.”
Tara stood up offended, denying the thought vehemently, “I’m not being a martyr!” She raised her hands quickly and let them fall again, looking frustrated and confused, “I’m j-just trying to do the right thing.”
Anya’s arms fell to her sides resolutely, “For who?” She asked pointedly.
The witch recoiled, about to say something when Xander’s voice broke through the door, “Uh, ladies?” He cleared his throat and said as pleasantly as he could, “Not sure what’s going on in there but, a line’s forming out here.”
Both women glared at each other, “Give us a minute Xander, we’re exchanging information on different feminine hygiene products.” Anya said with false cheer. Tara couldn’t help the twinge at the corner of her mouth or the softening of her gaze as she chuckled internally.
There was the briefest of pauses before the man replied anxiously, “I’ll hold it!” His quickly retreating steps were easily discernable in the quiet of the bathroom.
“Look,” The shop keeper said to her friend softly, “I’m not trying to be mean. I just want you to realize that keeping this to yourself doesn’t only hurt
you, as you so obviously believe.” When Tara’s eyes lowered in thought, she continued, “You want to do the right thing for everyone, right? Shouldn’t that include you and Willow?”
Tara let out a deep breath and nodded, “I’ll think about it.”
Anya nodded as well, pleased to have gotten through to her friend, “Good. Now get out, I really need to pee.”
***
No one said anything about the smell. Buffy mentally groused as she kept pace with the Gurtrall. She’d realized early on in her stalking of the creature that she could allow a bigger distance between them. Its scent was pungent enough to leave a trail for miles but, she still made sure to keep it within eyesight.
So far it had made its way through the shadows of trees and buildings, only stopping once to snatch something from a branch and shove it into its maw with a sickening crunch. She didn’t want to think too hard about what the poor victim had been.
Buffy had been following for a while now, noticing how farther out towards the edge of town they got.
This is going to be a long walk home… Why can’t I just be killing things? Nooo, I have to follow an eight foot stink bomb half-way-Her thoughts came to an abrupt stop, as well as both hers and the Gurtrall’s footsteps. The sound of horns and strings rose up in a booming melody. Then, the clear voice of a French woman started to sing and Buffy frantically reached for her coat pocket, quickly discerning it was the phone ringing.
The ground shook slightly, a deep guttural grunt alerted the Slayer that she’d been heard. “Shit,” The phone was in her hand, the short sword clasped in the other. Looking up, Buffy could clearly see the Gurtrall barreling towards her. “Shit!” She said again, the phone still singing out
Edith Piaf’s ‘Je ne regrette rien’ loudly.
She took off at a sprint, her instincts telling her to hide but the phone kept singing incessantly, making any attempt at subtlety completely moot. Looking down as she ran, Buffy tried to hit the red button on the traitorous contraption. The fact she was running quite fast made the task difficult, though.
Dividing her attention between running and pressing the button was just enough of a distraction for her foot to get caught on something. She toppled over with a loud “Oof!” The phone slipped from her hand and landed in the grass, still singing.
Heavy footfalls hastened and the cracking sounds of rending tree limbs got louder. The ground shook harder the closer the demon got. Buffy scrambled desperately, wanting to be standing if she were to have to face off with the Gurtrall.
She regained her feet and only had time to take two quick steps back before the small tree to her left bent in half, snapping at its base. Glowing red, almond-shaped eyes peered down at her diminutive form clasping nothing but a short sword.
Reason number two I don’t have a cellphone…“Slayer,” Jurrot bellowed, “Good music taste.” He squinted, “How does Slayer taste?” He bent over at the waist, seemingly undaunted by the Slayer’s presence.
The phone went silent as the first blow struck. Buffy twisted onto herself, spinning a high kick into Jurrot’s face. The demon stumbled back slightly, “It’s my after-taste you have to worry about.” She rushed him, seeing his unsteadiness as an advantage. “I hear it kills!”
The Gurtrall lowered himself onto one knee, effectively stabilizing himself. As Buffy swung her sword down, he swiped at her with a thick arm sending her small frame soaring through the air, colliding with the back of a wooden bench before landing on the cool ground. The Slayer winced and grunted, clutching her side.
Didn’t need that rib, really… She looked up in time to roll away from Jurrot’s stomping foot. It came down on the back of the bench, crushing it in half in a shower of splinters.
Jurrot paused briefly when his foot collided, giving Buffy enough time to swing her short sword in a stabbing arc, aiming at the demon’s other foot. The blade skewered it through, ending up good and buried in the packed soil beneath. The Slayer rolled away again at the deafening gargled cry the demon let loose and regained her feet. “Just tell me who your boss is,”
When the demon leaned over to grasp the sword, Buffy kicked and punched at its huge body, “And maybe I’ll-” Her arm was caught in the Gurtrall’s death grip and was squeezed hard enough for the Slayer to let out a shriek of pain as she felt her bones trying to resist a break.
Jurrot pulled the sword out of his foot with the other hand in a sickening slurp, “You know soon,” He swung the blade down in an arc aimed at Buffy’s arm, intending to cut it clean off. The Slayer reacted on instinct. She threw herself to the ground, between the demon’s legs, and pulled as hard as she could on the arm grasping her own.
The Gurtrall lost his balance and fell forward, the sword’s downward momentum toppling him over. The petite blonde now standing behind him tried to look smug holding onto her arm and obviously favoring her right side. She licked her lips and tasted blood.
Ok, Buffy – fight or flight?Muted horns and strings blossomed on the air again,
‘Non, rien de rien,’ The female voice sang out proudly and Buffy took quick steps backwards toward the sound, ‘Non, je ne regrette rien…’
Jurrot stood back up, furious, he screamed – a rumbling roar that made Buffy’s hair stand on end. Taking long strides in three jumps, the demon cut the Slayer off at the pass as she swiveled around to face him.
A dim, red LED light blinked through the grass, music still emanating from the phone laying on the ground behind the demon. Buffy glanced at it and the short distraction was all it took. The Gurtrall’s giant fist connected with the top of her head in a ferocious downward swing.
She heard a sickeningly loud pop and crunch, the melody from the phone echoed and dissolved on the air in ripples of muted sounds. The world began to swim around her, her vision tunneling as her fingers went numb. Buffy knew she was in trouble when her legs gave out and she fell to her knees, stunned.
Is… is this it?Through blurry eyes she was surprised to see the Gurtrall calmly walk towards the phone. He bent down to pick it up and, with a fleeting glance towards her, disappeared into the distance in large, ground-shaking hops.
Buffy’s eyes rolled atop, consciousness finally slipping away as she collapsed onto the grass.
***
His boots stomped the pavement, loudly echoing around him as Spike ran down the street. He wasn’t trying to be quiet, he’d had a bad feeling finding Willow’s card on that headless body. Jurrot’s stench permeating the scene had only made the vampire worry that Buffy might have had a run-in with the demon as he’d been snacking.
He easily followed the scent as he ran further out.
There! Spike thought and quickened his pace, picking up a subtle hint of the Slayer’s signature mixed in with the Gurtrall’s.
Should be close…The trail led him off the road, onto the grass and into a small park. His steps slowed to a brisk walk. To his right was a bench… or what was left of it. Copper tinged the roof of his mouth, tasting blood on the air as he approached the pile of wood.
Spike saw her once he passed the ruined bench. A lump of a girl, blonde hair reflecting moonlight. “Slayer,” He rushed to Buffy’s side and crouched down, “Buffy?” The vampire calmed a bit once he noticed her chest moving up and down with each living breath, although she was unconscious.
She’s vulnerable… Spike clenched his jaw, the thought sending a pang of lustful hunger through him.
Bleeding, vulnerable Slayer… He licked his lips and stood up quickly, taking a few steps back. Shaking his head, conflicting emotions and urges battling in his mind.
If you hurt her… He shook his head again quickly from side to side, anger taking the fore, “Raaahh!!”
Spike’s roar pierced the quiet of the park as he spun back towards Buffy’s prone body, taking decisive steps forward.
His mind was made up.
***
The red glow from the lamps shimmered as the wind blew into the room from the window Erynn had left ajar. Her breaths came in deep gulps, her skin aglow with a thin sheen of sweat. A slick hand laying across her trembling stomach, the other covering her mouth.
A silent sob racked her body, her eyes screwing shut against the feelings of guilt and longing worming their way out. Like silent creepers tap dancing up her spine, obliterating the rapturous euphoria she’d felt a scant moments earlier.
Damn you…Erynn had been riding on a wave of sensual arousal, at peace and feeling whole. Her body and mind working as one, not one thought existed but for her attention on each breath as it brought a rush of warmth pooling between her hips, building with every heartbeat.
But, as she’d broken through and over, her mind had betrayed her. Eyes of a cerulean blue, lush and full lips, a crooked, mischievous grin, dimpled cheeks, a skip, a giggle, warmth… such warmth. Love. Tara.
Damn you! Erynn wiped at her eyes in frustration, sat up resolutely and walked towards the stereo. She turned it off, pulled the red material from her lamps and turned the phone back on.
This was not how she needed to be feeling right now. This longing for something, someone she couldn’t have, had soured the sweetness of her release. She was supposed to be laying on her back, completely physically spent with a stupid grin on her face. Relaxed and mentally invigorated.
Erynn wrapped her robe around herself and sighed out loud when the phone rang. She picked it up, “Allo.” Came her terse greeting.
“There you are!” Loreli exclaimed, sounding relieved, “I’ve been trying to reach you. I even tried calling your mobile phone.”
The girl sat at her desk and ran fingers through her hair, “I lent my cellphone to a friend, and I’d turned this phone off.” She sighed, “I was… busy, and didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Ah,” The old woman said knowingly, “I see.” She cleared her throat and added cautiously, “You don’t sound very relaxed.”
Erynn closed her eyes as her face hardened, “Why did you call lo-lo? It’s really late.” She asked, leaning her head onto her hand.
“Why did I call!?” It was her aunt’s turn to sound irritated, “Do you forget we have an agreement?” The brunette was cut off before she could even open her mouth to speak, “You’re supposed to keep in touch, Erynn. To tell me how you’re doing, what’s going on. Last I heard from you, your pendant was still overloaded!”
When only silence resulted, she added, “I’m only worried, Papillon. This isn’t like you.”
“The pendant is fine.” The girl took a deep breath and let it out, calming down slightly, “Tara and Willow fixed it. It’s been complicated, lo-lo. I’m sorry I haven’t called. I just didn’t know what to say.” She finished dejectedly.
Her aunt sighed, “I understand but, when things get complicated… you need to contact me. You sound rattled.”
“I am,” Erynn said shakily, “I have been, but it’s also been amazing. So, it’s complicated.”
“Well,” Loreli said with an air of resignation, “let’s start with the spell. How did that go?”
“I don’t know,” The girl said but quickly amended, “I mean, the pendant is fine now. But, something happened. It scared Tara so much she practically ran out of here.”
Her aunt fell silent for a moment until she asked tentatively, “Did she say what happened?”
“No,” Erynn’s brow furrowed. Loreli sounded as if she knew something, “She’s coming over tomorrow afternoon to talk about it.”
“Oh,” The old woman mumbled, “Since Sunday. That’s… a long time.” She cleared her throat, her tone nonchalant as she asked, “How is Tara?”
The girl couldn’t help but smile, “She was doing well earlier. We were hanging out with Willow and Buffy. I learned a few things about this town you’d find interesting.” Her hand flapped in front of her face, quickly remembering, “Oh, we were being followed!”
“Erynn,” Her aunt said slowly, “You know I pick up on things. But, there’s so much to pick up in what you just said… I don’t know where to start. I do know one thing, though…”
Erynn braced herself, “Hm? What’s that?”
Loreli sighed loudly before saying in a soothing tone, “You’re in love, Papillion. Aren’t you?”
The girl groused loudly and rolled her eyes, “You know I am. You’ve known even before I did.” She exhaled sharply before continuing, “It’s the unrequited kind, though.”
“Yes,” She heard her aunt agree, “It is. Not an easy thing to live with, emotionally. Especially since this is your first time.”
Erynn knew where her aunt was going with this line of thought. They’d gone through similar talks often enough, “Lo, I’m not angry, resentful or jealous. I don’t feel like I deserve to have her, or like I want to influence anything she decides to do. Willow and I are friends and, she even knows about my feelings for Tara.” She paused in thought before adding, “She makes me feel like I can be better. Like, I’m a better me when she’s around. Sometimes even just by thinking about her. And, I really want her to be happy.”
“Erynn,” The witch grew serious, “Do you trust her?”
The girl was taken aback by the question, “Well, yeah… I do.”
“Ok,” Her aunt answered, easily pushing the matter aside, “So, tell me about Sunnydale.”
For the next half hour or so, Erynn told her great aunt all about The Slayer who happens to be named Buffy. The Hellmouth, and the group of friends who affectionately called themselves The Scooby gang. As well as the eerie experience of having been followed and, the resulting meeting at Xander’s.
The conversation soothed Erynn’s anxieties, lulling her back into a sense of calm. Her earlier muddled feelings receded until finally, they vanished altogether.
***
The quiet of the darkened room was broken by a soft ‘click’ before the door swung ajar slightly. Once it was closed again, Doc let go of the spell with a loud exhale of breath. Cloaking oneself was an easy thing to do but, it wore down the caster the longer the spell was held.
Blinking against the dark, he pulled his glasses higher up his nose and patted the wall for a switch. Finding one and flicking it upward made him wince and blink his eyes again until his vision grew accustomed to the light now flooding the previously dark space.
He liked this room, Doc decided. His lips quirked slightly at the sensuous, calm energies surrounding him. Taking slow steps farther in, he ran a finger along the desk languorously. His eyes scanned the space with an air of nonchalance, feeling himself being pulled this way and that. The magnetics of magics directing his every nerve endings towards items littering the room.
A picture frame caught his eye, resting on a bedside table next to an alarm clock. It’s glowing red numbers reading one-fifteen AM. In the frame was a photograph of two young women. A dark-blonde and a redhead who seemed oddly familiar. He cocked his head slightly, trying to pull at a memory that would assuage his curiosity. When none came, he let the thought go with a shrug of his shoulders.
It was a sweet picture, the women were obviously close and happy. It had been taken outdoors on a sunny day. Both were disheveled; green bits of grass and leaves sticking out from their mussed up hair. Huge, toothy smiles graced their faces as if they’d been caught mid laughter, tussling around in the grass at a picnic.
A bound book rested on the opposite table, a magical pull emanating from it. Doc pursed his lips, intrigued. He rounded the bed and noticed the cage when Amy skittered around her living space agitatedly. The sight brought his mind back to the reason for him being there in the first place and, with a resigned sigh, he pulled out the Ziploc bag he’d brought with him and approached the cage.
He’d expected it, of course. Most small animals ran from him on instinct. Amy grew more and more frantic the closer Doc got to the cage. Loud, frightened squeaks pushed out of tiny lungs made his skin rise in goosebumps. He grinned devilishly, if he could have his way…
“Sleep.” He said soothingly and waved a hand over the cage. The rat’s body grew limp and her movements stopped but for the rise and fall of her short breaths.
He made quick work of opening the cage, reaching in and – none too gently – yanked a bit of Amy’s fur from her body before dropping it into his bag. He stood back up once he closed the cage door again.
The book: A thick, leather-bound tome was to his right. The flaked, gold lettering against the dark brown of the aged leather read ‘Lilian Davis’ in small letters in the upper right corner. Other than the name, the cover was bare but for the indent of a crest Doc didn’t recognize.
Were he a younger fellow, less wise about how things usually worked out, he wouldn’t have thought twice before taking the book for himself. But, time and mistakes had taught him to be judicious with his choices. He learned a while back that it wasn’t because you could do something, that you should actually do it.
With pause, his mind quickly gave him reasons not to take the enticing book. Ideas of what he would do, were he the one coming home to his possession missing. A simple enough tracking spell would bring the two witches to his door.
Wasn’t worth the fuss, really.
A tendril of familiarity was discernible to him, flowing from the book in a wisp of ephemeral energy. He followed along the stream, across the room to where a big chest sat against the wall. Upon closer inspection, Doc noticed the same crest from the book cover gracing the front of the chest in dark, carved lines.
Old power… Family. Generational witch.Oh, he wanted to open it. His fingers twitched with the sheer thought of the possible contents waiting for him inside. Subconsciously reaching for the wooden chest, he recoiled when his fingers made contact with its surface.
Magically sealed… Protection spell.A scurry, a rattle and squeak alerted him to the fact that the rat was now awake. Doc looked around the room one last time, his eyes falling on another picture, this time on the dresser. The redhead from the previous picture was flanked by a boy and a small blonde he recognized instantly.
The Slayer…He read the name ‘Willow Rosenberg’ off a notebook. Filing away the name he turned his head and there, sat on the dresser, were two hair brushes. Different colored strands stuck in their bristles. Doc grinned.
The lights went out, the door closed and locked itself. There was no sign of his visit but for a tiny bald spot on Amy’s back and a few strands of hair no one would notice missing.
***
“This isn’t the first time, Will.” Xander stopped at a red light while trying to reassure his worried friend sitting in the back, cuddled up to her equally worried but supportive girlfriend, “We’ve gone a night without knowing where she was, before.” The car lurched forward again as the light turned green, “Heck, we’ve even gone months.”
Willow’s head lifted from Tara’s shoulder, “It’s not the same. We had a plan, she changed the plan mid-way and now she’s out there following this big, scary demon alone… I’m worried Xand, we should’ve at least gotten a call.” A kiss was pressed against the side of her head making her eyes droop with its comforting touch. Tara squeezed her girlfriend’s hand reassuringly, “I’m sure it’ll be ok, sweetie. Buffy can handle herself.”
It had been frustrating for them, waiting around at Xander’s. The locator spell had been cast a total of four times. Each time lasting an hour. Each hour had drained the witches a bit more. When the last casting came to an end the indicator was stopped in a park, on the East end of town.
Since Buffy was still gone and hadn’t contacted them, they had no real way of following up on their stalker. So, they’d decided to stop tracking him and rest.
Times like these made being a Scooby difficult. They all had their lives aside from the slaying. Work and school couldn’t take a back seat. When Buffy went out there, in dangerous situations and, all they could do was live their lives and wait… Well, Willow didn’t think any amount of practice could make it easier.
Good luck sleeping tonight… Classes are going to be fun.Tara had been overwhelmed when they’d left the carpenter’s apartment. Her worry for Buffy, the flashback she’d experienced and the talk she’d had with Anya, all swirling around in her mind. But, when she’d noticed how tense and troubled her girlfriend was, it was as if all those things were pushed back into small rooms in the back of her mind. Their priorities had been quickly reconsidered. Right now, all she wanted was for Willow to feel better. “I’m sure we’ll hear from her tomorrow.”
Xander pulled the car into the college parking lot, “If I hear from her, you’ll hear from me. No matter what time.” Shifting the car into park, he twisted in his seat to face the witches, “It’ll be like a game. You call me if you hear anything, I call you if I do. We’ll call it the telephone game.”
The witches sat up to unfasten their seat-belts. Willow shook her head exasperatedly, “That game already exists. The message always gets mixed up.”
He let out a deep sigh, “You know what I mean. Now, let me go home so I can go to bed. Facing beer-bellied men with power tools in the morning is something I can only pull off well-rested.”
After bidding their friend good night, the witches walked hand-in-hand towards their dorm building. It was eerily quiet at this time of night, the usual hustle of college life hushed into silent darkness. The soft glow of the path lights illuminated their way. “I know it’s late,” Tara said as they neared the building, “But, I doubt we’ll be able to sleep right away.”
You’re too tense to sleep… “I was thinking we could do something to relax a bit.”
The redhead’s eyes were riveted to the ground, a furrow deeply etched in her brow, “Relaxing would be good. I could do with some relaxing.” She squeezed Tara’s hand gently, “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”
“I don’t think I could concentrate on a movie.” The blonde pulled the dorm entrance door open for them, “Maybe some music and snuggles? I wouldn’t mind a nice shower.”
Taking the stairs to the second floor, they made sure to keep their voices down in consideration for the other students sleeping, “A shower sounds really good, baby.” Willow pulled her girlfriend’s hand to her mouth and kissed it softly, “And you know snuggles with you are always welcome.”
The rest of the way to their room was made in silence. Willow opened the door and flicked the lights on, “I’m willing to bet there isn’t anyone else in the showers at two in the morning.” She said cheekily over her shoulder and waggled her eyebrows, “Wanna be rebels and take one together?”
Tara chuckled, “This is quickly turning into a habit.” Once the door was closed, she made short work of taking her shirt and bra off. She flung both into the dirty clothes hamper and started massaging her breasts un-selfconsciously while exhaling a deep, relieved sigh. “I guess as far as habits go...” She groaned pleasurably as the dull ache slowly left her breasts, “It’s not a bad one.” Looking down, she started toeing her shoes off.
The redhead was mesmerized. Her girlfriend often ended the day this way. Being constrained in a bra for hours left her sore most times. Willow was enjoying the display quite a bit, even though… “Hey, that’s my job.” She pouted, “You’re doing all the boob rubbing yourself.”
The blonde grinned and looked up through her lashes. She said innocently, “But, I thought you liked watching me.” At her girlfriend’s widening eyes and blush, she giggled, “We’re about to take a shower together. You’ll get all the boob rubs you want.” Her skirt fell around her ankles, “With soap, even.”
Willow suddenly registered the fact she was still fully clothed. Tearing her eyes away from her alluring girlfriend, she started taking her clothes off. “Soapy Tara-boobs!” Her hair stuck up at odd angles as her shirt was quickly yanked off, “Let’s get to showering already.”
Robes were donned, towels and toiletries firmly clasped in their hands they made their way out the door. Neither were surprised to find Willow had been right in her assumption that the shower block would be empty. The water was set to a warmth that was just short of scalding, steam rose from their cubicle. “Can you hand me a hair tie?” The blonde had her hair clasped behind her head, “I don’t want to get my hair wet.”
Willow pulled a tie from the toiletry bag and handed it over. She slipped from her robe and brought the soap and loofahs to the shower. Tara’s eyes followed her movements as she tightened the elastic around her hair. Her robe was soon taken off as well and she joined her girlfriend under the hot spray.
The blonde closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth from the water. She craned her neck back and to the side, attempting to keep her hair dry. “Mmm, this is nice.”
She has no idea… Standing with a soapy loofah in hand, Willow was entranced. Her jaw slackened, a flush ran the length of her body. Tara was so stunning. She watched as the water cascading down her skin in thick drops coalesced into tiny rivers. Rushing into rapids in the dips of her girlfriend’s curves. Waterfalls rained from her breasts. She was sure if drops could speak, these would be singing. A harmony that could fill the building with heart melting, sweeping melodies.
Tara was Beauty. An equation Willow never felt the need to prove. She just knew they equaled each other - Tara and Beauty were synonyms – She knew it like she knew if she didn’t breathe right now, she might pass out.
The blonde stepped away from the water and opened her eyes to find her girlfriend looking back with an emotion laden gaze that made her smile timidly. “What?”
“You have no clue.” She shook her head in disbelief and shrugged, “You’re clueless, really.” Willow’s hand started lazily soaping her love’s shoulders.
Tara’s eyebrows rose up, “Gee, thanks honey.” Her lips quirked into a small grin.
But, her girlfriend was far from apologetic, “It’s not your fault; you can’t help it.” She ran the soapy loofah down a long arm, “It’s like not liking the sound of your own voice when you hear it back.”
Now she was confused. Normally, her girlfriend’s non-sequiturs were easy enough for her to follow. But, her brain was tired and she blamed the cylinder that just wouldn’t fire, “What’s wrong with my voice?” She asked, frowning vulnerably.
Willow’s smile lit up the cubicle, “Nothing’s wrong with your voice, silly.” The loofah made its way across the blonde’s chest, above her breasts, “In fact, what I was getting at is that there’s not an inch of wrongness on you.” Soapy bubbles ran down between twin swells of immeasurable softness, “You’re absolutely, totally and completely beautiful.” She looked up into cerulean blue and said with a tinge of awe in her voice, “But, you have no idea.”
Tara steadied herself by laying her hands on her girlfriend’s shoulders, her deep green, devoted gaze rooting her to the spot, “Careful, Ms. Rosenberg.” Her fingers ran up Willow’s neck to bury themselves in thick, wet hair, “If you keep looking at me like that, I
might get an idea.”
Small freckled hands busied themselves lathering up the blonde’s breasts, “Right, we wouldn’t want your ego to get all excited.” Her naked hand rubbed a soapy globe lazily, “I like that you fit through doors.”
Tara lifted her girlfriend’s chin with a finger, making their eyes meet, “It’s not my ego we have to worry about.” She leaned forward, pressing her mouth against Willow’s. The hand against her breast squeezed. The blonde smiled, “Mmm,
I feel pretty… Oh, so pretty…” She sang against a now grinning mouth.
The redhead giggled, “How very witty of you,” She wiggled a finger in a soapy belly button eliciting the most adorable squeal, “Turn around, I’ll wash your back.”
The loofah glided along Tara’s shoulder blades, down the center of her back, “At this rate, you’ll never get clean.” A shiver ran over her skin as the soapy bubbles dripped down the small of her back.
“Mmm,” Willow was taking her sweet time, enjoying every caress, “I have a time saving procedure in mind.” Her girlfriend’s buttocks was next to be lavished with attention.
When her cheeks were squeezed, Tara swallowed hard. But, when her girlfriend then brought her hands to her hips and pressed her body against her own, she couldn’t hold the pleasured sigh back, “Will,”
The redhead leaned her chin on her girlfriend’s shoulder and rubbed her body against soaped skin, “See, this way I get all soapy and I can do this,” Rubbing the soapy loofah against her hands before letting it fall to the tiled floor, Willow ran her palms along the inside of Tara’s hips. Over her lower stomach, one moving up to cup a breast, while the other went down between her legs. The redhead pressed herself against the blonde’s ass as she gently started washing her lover’s sex. “Mmm,”
The blonde’s head fell back onto a slender shoulder, “Willow,” She reached back, grasping small hips in her hands. She turned her mouth towards her girlfriend’s neck, kissed and nipped at it, “Mmph,”
“I love when you say my name like that,” Bringing her fingers to the center of the captured breast, Willow pinched the hardened nipple gently, rolled it between her fingers. Tara groaned softly as her hips started a smooth rocking motion, “I love that I can make you feel this way… That I get to see you like this.” Her throat tightened against an unexpected swell of emotion, the tension of the day rising to the surface, “I feel so lucky, Tara.” Her voice quivered.
Time to let it go for tonight, sweetie. The blonde turned around in the circle of her girlfriend’s arms, bringing hers around a small waist. “You know what’s funny?” She kissed Willow’s freckled nose, “People play luck based games, believing if they follow a silly tradition they’ll win. Then, no matter how many times they lose… if they win once – by luck – they say it’s thanks to the tradition.” She kissed her lips, “But, when it comes to something that has nothing to do with luck… they attribute their good fortunes to it anyway.” She brought them under the spray to rinse them off.
Willow’s brow furrowed, confused, “You lost me.”
Tara picked up her loofah and squeezed some soap into it before motioning, with the twirl of a finger, for her girlfriend to turn around, “It was recently brought to my attention that you loving me has nothing to do with me being lucky.” The redhead’s back was soon being washed lovingly, “I didn’t really get it until now.”
The redhead chuckled disbelievingly, “Didn’t know Anya was so wise. Guess she learned something other than how to rain vengeance all these years.” A hand on her hip pulled her back into the water.
The blonde cocked her head, “Anya
is wise in her own way. But, it wasn’t her.” She transferred some soap from the loofah to her hands and gently washed her girlfriend’s sex.
“Mmm,” The conversation was soon pushed to the back of Willow’s mind, “Baby?” Her body felt like it was sparkling, tiny pricks of electricity running over her skin.
Tara was attentively rinsing between her lover’s legs, “Hmm?” Once done, she leaned her chin on Willow’s shoulder and squeezed her hips lovingly.
The redhead leaned a cheek against her girlfriend’s, “Are we clean enough?”
The blonde grinned wickedly and bit a freckled shoulder, “I get the feeling this is as clean as we’ll be tonight.”
Willow turned in her girlfriend’s arms and kissed her deeply, pressed into her mouth with a moan before pulling away. “Let’s get out of here.” Taking Tara’s bottom lip between her teeth, she pulled at it gently and flicked her tongue against it, “Now.”
The shower was shut off, loofahs and soap gathered. They toweled off and wrapped themselves in their robes in a silence thick with anticipation.
Making it to their room without tearing each others robes off had been an exercise in restraint. But, nonetheless, with a soft ‘click’ the door was pressed closed by the slender body of a very randy redhead.
Tara let the towels drop on the papasan chair to dry, and put their toiletries away. All the while feeling Willow’s eyes following her every move. When she finally turned to face her lover, she was met with a look that immediately reminded her of a night at the Bronze, not so long ago. It had pinned her into place through a mirror’s reflection. Much like the effect it was having on her this very instant.
Willow pushed off from the door, her steps a measured prowl towards her girlfriend, “Do you think Kitten wants to play?” Stopping a step away from the distance needed for a kiss, she lifted a lazy finger and ran it down one of the folds of Tara’s robe that ran across the blonde’s chest, lightly grazing skin along the way. “Mistress wants to play.” Looking up, her lips quirked seductively at the glazed, dark-blue eyes staring back.
Yes. Yes! Tara blinked, her mouth fell open.
I should say that out loud. She licked her dry lips, “Y-yes.” The word barely made it out intact.
Her Mistress looked displeased though, “You forgot something, Kitten.” She wagged a disappointed finger and tsked, “I’ll have to think about discipline, I guess.”
Oh, God. Discipline!? What does she mean… The blonde posture stiffened visibly, color draining from her face. The myriad of ways one could be disciplined flashing through her mind, “S-sorry M-mistress.”
“Kit-”
Shit, I struck a nerve. Willow’s tone was quickly soothing when she noticed the lowered eyes and pronounced stutter, “Shh, baby… you know I would never hurt you, right?” She lifted Tara’s chin with a gentle finger, “Tara, look at me.”
Worried blue met deep, reassuring green, “I would never do
anything against your will.” She shook her head and said emphatically, “I will never hurt you, baby.” She wrapped her arms around Tara’s waist, “This Kitten thing, it’s always about you… your pleasure and-and my pleasure in giving it.”
Tara nodded, all of sudden feeling foolish, “I’m sorry,” She brought them together in a tight hug. “I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”
Willow pulled back slightly, “You didn’t ruin anything.” She pressed a kiss against the blonde’s forehead, “Let’s leave the Kitten and Mistress thing aside until we can talk about what we want and don’t want. Ok?”
The blonde agreed thankfully, “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” She kissed her girlfriend softly, “So… the mood
isn’t ruined?” Her eyebrow quirked up mischievously.
Willow shook her head and took slow steps backwards, towards the bed, “Take that robe off and I’ll show you just how un-ruined the mood is.” She sat on the bed, propped some pillows against the headboard for her to rest against. The robe fell open over her chest as she laid down, widened at her thighs but, revealed very little.
Tara loosened her robe and let it fall to the floor. She felt her girlfriend’s eyes on her, like tiny flickers of flames licking at her skin making it raise into goosebumps wherever they landed.
“You’re so beautiful,” The redhead said, pulling at the tie around her waist. Her right hand came to rest against her chest and pushed down, against the robe. Opening it down the center, “So sensual.” She reached under and cupped her breast, her right hand poised on her lower stomach, “Sexy.”
The blonde was loving seeing the effect she was having, part of her wanted to prolong the feeling. But, another part of her just wanted to jump Willow right then and there. She opted for walking to the bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress.
Looking into her girlfriend’s lidded eyes, she reached for her robe and opened it fully. Exposing the small hand now squeezing an aroused breast. Tara gulped, her gaze fell down Willow’s stomach and rested on the hand sitting there. Nimble fingers lightly rubbing circles over heated, milky white skin. She laid down on her side, facing her girlfriend, and ran her fingers up and down her lover’s arm in rapt silence.
“The first time I touched myself thinking about you was a Monday morning.” The redhead’s voice was a soft, husky breath on the air. “We’d hung out the night before. You were putting on music and something went wrong with the stereo… you had to reach behind it.” She pinched her nipple, making a gasp rush through lungs, her legs fell apart slightly. “I was on the bed, sitting there watching you get up on a chair. You were wearing jeans, they were tight around your ass bent over the dresser like you were.”
Tara watched as her lover’s fingers moved from her stomach, to twirl in soft cropped copper curls. She could feel her arousal slip from between her own legs. She shifted slightly, rubbed her thighs together and raised her bent leg up to rest against Willow’s. The contact sent shivers along her skin.
The redhead pulled at her nipple before switching breasts, “The chair wobbled and I got scared. I ran over to you and held you up by your hips.” Her legs fell farther apart, fingers teasing now very wet lips, “It was the first time I’d touched a part of your body that wasn’t your hands, or your arms. Mmmm,” Willow’s hips rocked forward and back slightly, her breath shallow and panting. “Your shirt rode up a bit and all I could think about was kissing and licking the skin there. I was so turned on.”
Tara bit her lip, her fingers twitching against the urge to touch. Her own need was throbbing maddeningly between her legs. Subconsciously, she pressed forward, her leg falling over Willow’s. Her hips had a life of their own, grinding herself into her girlfriend’s thigh, she groaned, “God, Will.”
Running slick fingers alongside her clit, the redhead moaned softly, “I could barely look you in the eye the rest of the night. I was sure you’d see it on my face, how much I wanted you.”
Through no thought or consideration, the blonde’s lips fell around Willow’s taut nipple. She rocked into her girlfriend, the friction and glide against her clit making her hips jump. “Mmpph,” Biting down, she licked at the captured sensitive nub.
“Ohh,” Letting go of her breast, Willow’s fingers tangled into her lover’s hair, “That night I dreamt about you.” She dipped her fingers down into a pool of her own arousal, bringing it up to rub soft circles around and around her clit. Her hips dug into the bed, “I dreamt I was touching you, everywhere. I-I undressed you, licked and kissed your skin, your breasts, stomach,” Her breast vibrated against the rumble of her girlfriend’s groan as she rocked her hips slightly faster, “I dreamt I went down on you, I got so lost in you. Your taste, your silkiness, your-your wet heat. Ohh, fuck, baby…” Tara’s fingers were teasingly parting her lips, a single digit barely dipping in before pulling back again. “That morning I woke up on fire. I was so wet, my pajama bottoms were soaked. My whole body was throbbing,”
Willow’s hand reached down, her fingers running wetly along those teasing her. Tara moaned, her legs clenching tightly around the redhead’s, every muscle in her legs tensed up. Her dripping sex pressed and quivered against her girlfriend, “I was so glad I was alone that morning,” She grasped Tara’s wet fingers and deliberately pressed them against her entrance, “It was the first time I came saying your name. It felt so, so right.”
A wet pop sounded as Tara let go of the nipple in her mouth. She looked up intently, holding Willow’s gaze with her own lustful one. Her fingers started moving against the wet opening, swirling circles around it. Making her lover’s hips roll against her fingers, “Will,”
The redhead’s hand cupped her girlfriend’s cheek, holding eye contact as she felt herself being penetrated slowly and deeply. Her mouth fell open and then she bit her lip, panting as the fingers retreated and pushed in again. She rolled her hips again, her right hand raised to cup and stroke Tara’s breast. “Ohh,”
Tara felt her girlfriend shift and roll towards her, throwing her leg over the blonde’s hip. With a loud moan, Willow rocked harder against the blonde’s fingers, her other leg trapped and soaked as they both moved against each other. “God, I love you Willow.” She snaked her left arm under her girlfriend’s head, ran her fingers into her hair and pulled her face in for a desperate kiss. Their tongues caressed and wrestled, Tara felt Willow open herself up. The knee that had been clasped around her hip lifted in the air, giving more room for the blonde to maneuver. Her fingers curled, pressed against spongy walls as she started thrusting them faster, harder.
“Auggghh, Tara…” The redhead moaned against Tara’s mouth, her hand squeezed convulsively around a full breast. She felt her girlfriend roll onto her back, her fingers retreated and Willow found herself straddling Tara’s hips.
“Come up here,” She said, tilting her head up and back. Tara pulled on small hips, guiding her lover’s body higher up her own, “I want you up here. Hold onto the headboard.” Her hands stroked her girlfriend’s sides and hips as she moved her way to the headboard, framing Tara’s head with shaking and wet thighs. “God Will,” She ran her hands down Willow’s back, coming to rest against her ass. Squeezing the supple flesh, the blonde pulled her lover’s sex towards her mouth. “Mmmph,” She nuzzled through wet curls, pressed her tongue between dripping folds and licked the length of her sex.
Willow gripped the headboard, her ass clenched as she pressed into her lover’s mouth. She felt a hand slip between her legs, fingers quickly plunging back into her as she rocked her hips, head thrown back as a deep, guttural groan left her chest. “Baaaby,”
Another lick the length of Willow’s sex and the blonde caught her throbbing clit with her lips. Her fingers curled and pressed, her lover’s hips rolling against her as she started sucking lightly, licking circles around the tight, throbbing bundle in her mouth. “Mmrrrph,” She was looking up at her girlfriend’s beautiful body arched back, her nipples hard points swaying and bouncing in the air above her when her left hand finished its journey.
Tara’s eyes crossed and rolled over, a deep moan ripped from her as she started rubbing her clit. Her hips rocked against her own fingers, “MmOhh,” Pressing harder into her girlfriend, she started a circular motion against her walls, alternatively fluttering her fingers making her lover drip down her chin and neck, before rubbing in tight and precise circles again.
“Jesus, Tara!” Willow’s head flopped forward, nearly missing hitting it against the wall. “You’re gonna make me… drown you,” Her hips jerked against the movement of the fingers inside her, “Ohh, Fuhh…”
Tara pushed lower with her left hand, pressed her middle fingers inside herself and ground her clit against her slick palm. “NnmmFuck… Ohh, God I really don’t care if you do,” She sucked her lover’s clit back into her mouth, swiveling her head as she licked rough swirls against it, over and over again. Her own hips thrashed against her hand, she was so close.
Every exhale from Willow was accentuated with a short, high-pitched moan, “You sure… baby?” She pressed her forehead against the cool wall, “You sure… you want me to come like this?” Her thighs shook, her knuckles were white gripping the headboard, “I can hold it… a little… if you want to move.”
The blonde’s eyes snapped open, glaring up at her lover. She thrust her fingers hard into her, “Don’t you dare.” Her sex clamped around the fingers between her own legs, she curled them within herself. Grinding her palm into her clit, “I’m about to come,” She groaned against Willow’s sex, “Come with me.” She latched back onto her lover’s clit, felt muscles twitch around her fingers. She pressed, and rubbed losing track of which hand was doing what, “Fuhh, Will come with me,”
The redhead nodded and panted loudly, “Ok, Ohhh God, Ok baby…” Her small hips thrust against the mouth and fingers pleasuring her, “Like that… just like that, Ohh Tara, I’m there… I’m right there,”
“Mmm-mmph!” Coordination wasn’t her strong suit but, somehow Tara managed to bring herself to an earth-shattering climax, her fingers tightly gripped within herself. Her sex pulsing loudly against her hand. She heard the loud, keening cry from above, felt the waves of rippling muscles around her other fingers. Tara almost came again, “Ta-rahh-ahh-ahh!” Willow jumped and jerked above her as she released her climax in short, powerful bursts. She felt Tara pull out of her, rubbing her fingers the length of her sensitive sex making her orgasm linger, her climax still dripping down her lover’s fingers, chin and neck. Her skin tingled and sparked in waves from head to toe. Each and every thing touching her skin making a direct connection to her sex.
Tara was indeed soaked. But, she actually kind of loved it. She felt Willow’s thighs tremble either side of her head, she kissed her lover’s spent sex and gripped her hips, guiding her down onto the bed next to her. “Amazing,” The blonde planted small kisses all over her girlfriend’s beautiful face, “You’re amazing.” Wrapping her arms tight around her lover’s shivering body, she rolled her partly onto herself. “I love you. Are you cold, sweetie?”
Willow shook her head against Tara’s breast and sniffled, “No,” She answered in a vulnerable tone, a shiver ran down her body again, her voice tremulous when she said, “I don’t know why this happens. Why I shiver and cry when... you know.” She sniffed again.
Tara reached over and pulled her nightstand drawer open. She produced a tissue and handed it over to her love, “Is it a good shiver and cry, though?” Her fingers ran soothing trails down Willow’s arm.
The redhead wiped her eyes and her nose, bunched up the tissue and threw it over her shoulder making her lover snicker, “It’s embarrassing.” Her fingers drew patterns along Tara’s stomach.
The blonde gently tucked an unruly strand of red hair behind a delicate ear, “Why embarrassing?”
Willow’s self-deprecating, mirthless chuckle preceded her answer, “Because crying isn’t sexy.”
“Huh,” Tara kissed a crown of red hair, “Could have fooled me.” At her girlfriend’s unbelieving grumble, she shifted slightly, “Stay right there. I’m gonna get us ready for sleep.” She kissed her lover’s creased forehead and gingerly got out of bed.
The redhead could feel herself slowly relaxing into a blissful lull, the frantic energy all but spent from her body. She let out a deep, satiated breath.
Her girlfriend returned from the mini-fridge with a bottle of cold water, uncapped it and took a few gulps before handing the bottle over with a kiss. She then left again, this time for the closet, “You know, the first time we made love?” Pulling out a couple blankets and closing the door again, she continued, “I cried a little.”
Willow rolled over to one side of the bed as her girlfriend flicked a blanket open and draped it across the prominent wet spots, “You did not.” She grumbled and rolled back over. Her head landed on a wet pillow, she grimaced slightly, lifted her head and flipped it over before lying back down.
Tara grinned at her lover’s childish reply, “Did too. It was… overwhelming.” She shrugged, “It just happened. It was a good kind of overwhelming, though.” The second blanket came down and contoured Willow’s body. The blonde clicked the lamp on before going to the wall and turning the main lights off.
She took a towel from the chair and quickly wiped down her chest, neck and face before making her way back to the bed.
Willow felt her lover slip under the blanket and cuddle up close to her, “I guess that’s it… I get overwhelmed.” She ran fingers down Tara’s arm and yawned, “Is it silly to be embarrassed?” Her eyes drooped, exhaustion catching up to her.
The blonde reached for, and turned off the lamp, “Not silly. Just, unnecessary.” She kissed a smooth shoulder and nuzzled into Willow’s neck, “I love you.” A smile gracing her lips, Tara closed her eyes and sighed happily.
“I love you, baby.” Came the soft reply, “Night.”
“Mmm,” With that mumbled, they both drifted off into a deep sleep.
***