shirrey wrote:
It gave me an even newer look at willow wanting to keep Tara as her own. You can't mar perfection by bringing it into the usefulness of being a Scooby , having it be a function rather than a revelation. It cheapens what their bond means. Even if later it solidifies it. Again I cannot wait for more
Yes, exactly. Their friendship and budding closeness is supposed to be intimate, for Willow's sake. I think on an instinctual level she wants to distance herself from what has been, enough to grow freely into what will be.
Will's redemption wrote:
I guess Willow sees magic like chemistry and doing spells like experiments. If you follow the description and it works, it must be "good" magic.
That's exactly right. Willow is science, Tara is faith.
Onto the update!
The More You Know
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Author name – CopperAndGold
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Rating – PG-13
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Feedback – Your feedback keeps me going!
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Summary – The episode ‘A new man’ – A Willow and Tara behind the scenes look.
The college library was still an awe inspiring place for Willow. The atmosphere alone was perfect for soaking up knowledge. That had come in handy her first few weeks, having been stuck with a party-crazed roommate. Now, she still just came here when she wanted to study in quiet, or research with some privacy.
She’d finished most of her studies and Xander would be ready in a few hours for her to get Buffy to the party. That meant she had time to look some stuff up… If she could find anything of actual use.
Not that learning about Stonewall and the gay liberation movement wasn’t interesting. But, most of that stuff she’d already learned from her mother practicing her lectures. Willow was looking for more practical, tangible information about figuring herself out. Not politics, societal norms or psychology.
Some things were obvious to her, others though – not so much. And, others she wasn’t even willing to acknowledge yet.
Obvious was the fact she’d loved Oz dearly. Also obvious was the fact she found girls pretty. If she let herself think on details too long, girls were pretty enticing. She found guys good looking on the surface too, though… If she thought on
those details…
Argh, I hate this analyzing crap. She was growing frustrated and a little defensive on Oz’ behalf. Sure, her motor didn’t exactly rev just at the sight of a hunk but, once things got going Willow had been responsive to Oz. Besides, the female form had been held in high regard throughout history. The higher beauty of women was universally accepted as a fact - the fairer sex and all that, right?
Isn’t it normal that women would be more appealing? She shook her head, this was stupid and futile.
She obviously had attraction-type feelings for Tara, and she’d had a loving relationship with Oz.
What if I just decided right now that I’m bisexual? Couldn’t she just say she liked both boys and girls equally, and be done with it?
Thinking about that, she realized something important. Willow realized that this – how she was feeling confused about what she wanted – this might have been exactly how Rachel had felt.
I guess I am like Rachel, after all… She grimaced at the thought and after a moment, her vision started to shimmer and blur beneath unshed tears.
I can’t do this to her… what am I going to do?She pushed aside what little books she’d found and flipped open her laptop. Logging onto the campus internet access, she started some simple searches. This seemed more like it, forums – actual people talking about actual experiences.
Willow skipped down the page looking for a post that would pique her interest. When she read: ‘It doesn’t make sense.’ Willow thought she’d found her first clue.
I’ve got to figure this out without her. Without hurting her… somehow.The part of Willow that didn’t believe that was possible, already felt defeated.
***
The bell over the door rang as it opened, its tinkle alerting the owner of the establishment to a new customer. “Be right with you.” He said in the direction of the door, bending to fetch a receipt that had slipped from the counter.
Tara pushed the door closed behind herself, “It’s just me, Mr. Bogarty.” She walked further into the store, catching a glimpse of the older man as he straightened back up. Gave a little wave, “Um, Tara.” A smile pulled at her lips, seemed it had been a long day for the shop owner. He looked a tad disheveled, “Is this ok? I-I know you’re closing soon.”
The Magic Box owner and the young witch had struck a fast friendship when they’d first met. Although the ritual she’d initially come for help with hadn’t worked out, Mr. Bogarty had been knowledgeable and empathetic. Tara had ended up spending two hours with the man as he worked. Reading in between conversations about magic, sources and hellmouths.
“Of course, it’s no problem.” He said, straightening his blazer as he walked around the counter. “Are you just visiting or do you need some help, dear?” Peering from the top of his reading glasses, he added conspiratorially, “If you want any more of those gingerbread cookies the missus makes, I’ll need to charge you a dollar like the rest.” Leaning in, closer to the witch he whispered, “She’s coming down hard; noticed her totals didn’t add up.”
Tara giggled, highly amused, “Have you ever charged anyone for a cookie?” She raised an eyebrow, “Ever?”
Chuckling, the man made his way towards a seat, “Of course not, who would do such a thing.” Mr. Bogarty asked rhetorically and sat down. At the witch’s expectant look and crossed arms, he huffed. “What she doesn’t know doesn’t hurt her. I just forgot how many cookies she’d made that day and gave her too little money.” He sighed dramatically, “Now I’m in the doghouse.”
The blonde squinted disapprovingly and shook her head but couldn’t keep from cracking a smile. “I’d say it serves you right,” On the shelf to her right, something caught her attention. A beautifully decorated box, “But now I need to carry change.” The edges dark purple, the embossed letters were deep-set and golden. Stars and moons peppered the top.
“We just got that one two days ago,” Mr. Bogarty had noticed her looking and was now stood next to her. He reached over and picked the box up, “Brand new, hand-painted deck.” The box was opened with a small click of a clasp. “Go ahead.” He lifted it slightly, raising his chin inviting Tara to take the deck from the box.
Her interest in Tarot was still new. She’d seen the different decks when she’d visited, had looked at them all and thought them beautifully crafted. Then, the shop owner had given her a crash course of sorts and she’d been interested ever since. “It’s so pretty.” She breathed, reverently picking one card up revealing The Fool.
“It’s a fool’s journey, beginner’s deck.” Mr. Bogarty seemed to contemplate this, watching Tara go through the cards one at a time, “Were you drawn to it?”
Making sure to handle them with care, the witch straightened the deck before placing it back into its box. “I guess I was.” She looked up at him and smiled, knowing she wouldn’t spend the money however much she wanted it. Her expenses were counted to the penny, having only what her mother had left her until semester’s end.
Closing the box and placing it back on the shelf, the older man decided to move on at Tara’s silence. “How have you been, sweetheart?”
“Oh - um,” Tara blushed slightly and pushed a lock of her hair away from her face, “I’ve been doing well,” She nodded comically with a tight smile, “You know.” The blonde looked away, shrugging nonchalantly, “I might bring a friend next time I come.”
Mr. Bogarty seemed pleased by this, “Is this someone you met at the Wicca group, at college?” He shook his head seemingly surprised, “I swear, one after the other - they come in here asking for scented candles in shapes of Goddesses.” Chuckling to himself, he mumbled, “I get those candles in bulk from China.”
The blonde snorted softly, “She’s not like that.” Her voice was chipper and optimistic which delighted the owner, “She probably shops here s-sometimes, though.” Tara cleared her voice, “That’s why I’m here actually. If we were to-to… start studying magic together, how can we make sure to not…” Her hands flounced around a few times before folding her arms across her chest, “Do b-bad things?”
Mr. Bogarty looked at her intently but questioningly, “What do you mean, exactly?” He asked, waving a hand towards a table and some seats. “Bad things?”
Tara took a seat, “She…” Pressing her lips together, the blonde thought a second before continuing, weighing her words, “Willow and I haven’t learned the same way.”
The owner frowned and asked, “The same way, or the same things?”
The witch shrugged, “Both?” She leaned an elbow on the edge of the table, then quickly pulled it back down. She couldn’t figure out what to do with her hands, so she ended up crossing her arms awkwardly. Tara lowered her head covering her eyes, this was kind of embarrassing. “She’s a practicing witch, learns s-spells and stuff.” When Mr. Bogarty kept quiet but seemed confused, she continued. “Willow had to learn from necessity… She’s um, v-very powerful.”
Don’t forget noble. Courageous… intelligent… beautiful… funny… kind…“Not surprising,” The man replied softly, breaking her from her Willow-haze, nodding his head, “Living here, you defend yourself however you can.” When Tara nodded that she agreed, he asked, “And, you?”
The silence was heavy, the young woman being careful to the point of slowing everything down – air molecules pilling up between them. “I-I um, it’s heh-heri-herr…” Tara’s eyes squeezed shut against the mortification she felt, taking a deep breath before pushing out, “Heh-hereditary; the w-women in my family. I’ve always known about stuff, ha-had to.”
She looked away shaking her head then, frustrated at her inadequacy, “I know stuff, but I don’t know
what I know.” Her eyes pleaded answers but, she barely knew what she was asking. “Or, don’t know.” The words sounded so pathetic, her shoulders slumped and she bowed her head again.
Mr. Bogarty seemed relieved, having obviously been hanging onto every word as the young woman’s countenance became more erratic. “Generational, then.” He nodded, “It’s so natural to you, you can’t really put it into words. Let alone discern what you don’t know from what you do. What you don’t know never existed.” A proud little smile flashed across his lips. “A colorblind person who doesn’t know about colorblindness goes through life alone knowing green looks orange. But, reality is: It’s green.”
“Right,” Tara agreed, “I just don’t want to mess a spell up or make it go bad.” Pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, she added, “I don’t want to mess up her s-studies with my hangups, she really n-needs this.”
Should she really learn with me, though?The older man’s brow wrinkled questioningly, “Don’t you need it, too?” When she only looked back at him blankly he filled the blanks in, “You live here now, as well.”
“Oh,” She hadn’t thought of that, at all. “I guess… I-I would n-need to…”
“Do you think…” He raised a hand and cut her off but smiled, “… she has bad intentions?” Mr. Bogarty’s eyes bore into her. When Tara shook her head that, no – she didn’t believe Willow had a bad bone in her body - he added confidently, “And, neither do you.”
Pushing off his chair, he sauntered over to a bookshelf not noticing the evasive reaction his last assertion garnered from the young witch. “You know what you know, she knows what she does. Teach each-other, simple.”
Reaching up to the top shelf, behind Tara, he pulled a big leather-bound tome down, “These are beginner spells, of sorts.” It thumped dully as it fell to the table, “Journals, mostly. Young wizards and witches in training and so forth. Protective, Defensive and some Creative spells and rituals - Right, only.”
Tara pressed her palms against the cover, smoothing them out to the edges. The leather felt smooth and cool against her skin, “Wow.” She breathed out the word reverently.
“You can borrow it, for now.” He was saying, moving again. The blonde was cracking the cover, reading titles and looking at the different handwriting. She didn’t get the chance to thank him, “And, this…” She heard him say, this time from right over her shoulder. When something hard and wooden fell on the table, it startled her. Mr. Bogarty smiled sweetly. “Sorry.”
When Tara finally looked at what the shop keep had handed her, she gasped. “I can’t.” Looking up at him, she reasoned out loud, “I can’t afford them and you can’t j-just borrow Tarot cards.”
“Tara,” He said while moving to her side, “You wouldn’t be borrowing them. They’re yours; a gift.”
***
“She won’t even notice I’m gone,” Willow whispered to herself as she walked through the halls, towards her dorm room. The party was a hit, Buffy was a happy camper and there had been no bad juju. Result: Successful Buffy Birthday Bash. The redhead couldn’t bring herself to feel guilty about leaving early.
As eventful and fun as the party was, Willow just had too much on her mind to enjoy it all fully. She’d stood back after chatting up a few people, and had observed people interacting for the last hour. Her brain on a loop of Tara.
Wonder what she’s doing right now. Wonder if she’s thinking about me. What if I just went over there? I want to see her…She knew she was seeing Tara the next day for their first spell casting together as a coven. Her friend had asked her to make sure of something, her intent. Willow only had to think about her ‘Will be done’ spell to understand what Tara had meant. The fact that, even after that fiasco, the danger hadn’t woken her up enough to mind her intent now when thinking of casting… well, that had made her feel ashamed. Of course Tara had been right, of course she already knew this stuff.
Not swimming with the little fishies now… An image of Tara as a fish popped into her brain, making her giggle. That’s when the decision to head home had been made.
She needed to pick a spell, and she needed to make it a good one. Show Tara that she could be level-headed and smart about magic. Willow needed to prove herself responsible.
Closing the door to hers and Buffy’s room, she quickly made her way to her trunk of mystical goodies.
Her books had all been acquired for practicality sake. Each of them a result of a specific Hellmouth event, from not so dire to apocalyptic in scope. They’d been references, lifelines and shortcuts when time had been crunched. When people’s lives had been on the line.
Surrounding herself with these books - sitting on the floor of her room - she thought about what they might be able to accomplish together. Something small, not so dramatic as a soda machine but – like Tara had wanted, clear and deliberate intent. Something delicate and fragile to try and control together, perhaps.
Right-hand path… Willow remembered. Her brow screwed up, she’d just figured Tara meant not to use dark magic. That had been a given, really. No blood or baby teeth here, nope.
Tara had explained that she’d only directed Willow’s energy that night, in the laundry room. The redhead couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to connect with Tara, but using both their energies – together. In tandem, together…
Oh, that’s kinda… Her cheeks reddened.
It’s a spell… We’re witches, we are coven witches so we practice together… not my fault it sounds all sexy.She felt like she was having a debate in her head with her internal, Imaginary-Xander.
Responsible, remember? Take your mind out of the gutter… it’s just a spell. She thought in rebuttal to no one, reaching for the book she figured would have the best chance of having what she needed.
Once her mind had been engaged on the task at hand, Willow was lost to the world for the rest of the night.
***
No! Willow whined internally, hearing Giles yammer on about some demon and how tonight of all night was his encore, “She’s with Riley, Giles.” She was so annoyed, and so incredibly disappointed that now she had to cancel her plans with Tara. “You know, her boyfriend? Having a life…” Her voice trailed off defensively.
“Yes, well,” Giles wasn’t inclined toward sympathy right then, “I’m still somewhat getting used to that information.” He said gruffly, “She should still be focused on her duties.”
The redhead winced, she felt bad for him not being in the know sooner. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.” Truth be told, the fact Buffy was meeting with Walsh who – surprise, was the head of Riley’s unit or something.
No, no double-entendre there… - Well, it made Willow uneasy. “She was meeting with Professor Walsh today. You might find her there?”
After a longwinded, British bitching session and direction giving, the call was ended and Willow was left sitting on the edge of her bed. Staring at the phone pathetically.
I have to call her and cancel. Because of stupid Scooby stuff… Without Buffy. It was all so unfair.
She’s the Slayer, not me!***
Her classes were finally done. Today had felt never-ending to Tara and she still had a couple of hours left before Willow would show up. She’d have to fill those somehow, studying would probably be her best bet. Keys in hand, she approached her door with a smile on her face.
Turning back around from closing it behind her, the first thing she noticed was the red, flashing light on her answering machine. Tara froze, staring at the machine like she’d seen a ghost. She never got messages, never. The only time she’d gotten one had been her aunt, letting her know the search was off. Her father had figured she’d come home with her tail between her legs, soon enough.
That light frightened her, what it might carry with it was important enough to leave a message. Had they found her? Was her aunt ok? Tara’s hands started to shake, she dropped her bag to the floor and took tentative steps towards the phone.
There are so many other things it could be… calm down.The tone of Willow’s voice hadn’t registered at first, so relieved was she it was Willow at all. “-ot a call from Giles a-and…” She sounded so tentative and small, Tara instantly disliked whatever was making her friend sound that way, “There’s this demon that’s gonna rise tonight and he needs my help.”
Disappointment didn’t have a chance, Tara was shook with worry. Until this moment, she hadn’t really thought about Willow’s supporting role in the whole Slayer thing. How dangerous it could be, they’d all been… just stories up until now. “-hope we can reschedule? Please? I’m so sorry, Tara.”
“Be careful,” The blonde said to no one before shaking her head self-deprecatingly.
She’s been doing this for years, she’ll be fine. She tried to comfort herself, sitting there through the beep that signaled the end of the message. Without thinking, Tara pressed ‘Replay’.
“Hi, uh… Tara. Hi.” The redhead’s voice sounded out softly, “I just got a call from Giles a-and…” A smile grew on Tara’s face, her heart tightened. She rolled her eyes and swatted at the machine to shut it off.
Seriously, put a cork in it Maclay.She needed a shower and studies would have to wait. She might skip them altogether, Tara needed to lose herself in something and she knew just the book.
***
It was almost midnight, she was running through a cemetery at night with her best friend. Nothing too unusual really, for Willow. “She’s going to feel so bad.” She was saying through labored breathing, the beams from their flashlights cutting through the dark, “Can’t believe she didn’t tell him about the Initiative.”
“Yeah,” Xander replied, huffing along. Their footfalls thudding the only sound they could hear, “She’s been in Buffy-boyfriend-world for a while now.” His words stopped as he had to hop over a thick branch in his way, “Doing her own thing.”
Risking a quick glance toward him, she said tartly, “So are you, you know.” Willow slowed her steps as they neared the edge of the cemetery, “So happy to go find Anya, I bet.” The derision in her voice was plain to hear.
Xander stopped short and turned towards her, irritated, “Yeah, so? Where are
you off to, then?”
“Home!” She said a little too quickly, “Where else would I go?” Willow fidgeted in place, now wondering if it was too late. Maybe she could call… Three thoughts became one idea. “The library.” She blurted.
Her friend looked confused, “Huh?”
“’Cause, you know…” She grasped about for words, “It would be so quiet, and-and…” The redhead was getting more nervous the more she went on, “Better to read, and stuff.”
Xander had already lost interest, “Whatever. All I’m saying is, it’s normal we’ve all got our own thing going.” Cocking his head with a dubious look on his face, he waved in her general direction, “Although your thing is all yours.” He shook his head before leaving, “Should go out on a date sometime, Will.”
***
“Hi,” Tara said softly in the space caused by opening her door, “Come in.” She smiled, her eyes twinkling.
She’d had to get dressed again when Willow called; had been tucked under the covers with her book. The young witch was far from complaining, though. “Are you ok?” Tara asked when she took in her friend’s state, “You look like…”
“Oh,” Willow looked down at herself, thoroughly embarrassed. “Oops.” She put her bag down and started taking her dirty jacket off, “Was running through a cemetery, tends to get sweaty and messy.” Blushing profusely, she draped her jacket over the chair, “I really hope I don’t stink.” Oh so discretely – at least she thought - she turned her nose toward a shoulder and took a short whiff.
This brought Tara to near hysterics, “You smell lovely,” She sobered a bit but was still giggling, her eyes shot up as she thought and said, “Like earth a-and grass.” Pleased with her observation, she nodded and smiled.
Willow beamed, her cheeks tinged pink at the compliment.
Earth and grass never sounded good before. She lowered her eyes, slightly embarrassed.
She makes everything sound good. “I uh,” She decided to move on, she could feel a spaz moment approaching. “I brought stuff.” Was her clever reply.
Tara moved to the bed where she sat patiently, watching her friend take items out of a bag. Among which was apparently a rose.
I’ll find out soon enough, don’t assume…“I’ll set up here,” The redhead was going about drawing the casting circle and symbol, almost feeling rushed. She was feeling an odd anxiousness she couldn’t place; Willow felt jumpy. She desperately tried to calm down, focusing on setting up the spell.
For her part, Tara would have wondered at her friend’s obvious discomfort if it hadn’t been for her Herculean efforts not to ogle the girl. She’d found Willow attractive from the first; she was simply a beautiful young woman. But, the more she was in Tara’s physical orbit, the less she could help… noticing things.
Willow had a different physique than she was used to noticing. Even though she knew the redhead could probably surprise her with her athleticism – she was a monster hunter after all – Willow’s shape was still delicate. Small, subtle curves that she wanted to touch to substantiate. Gulping, Tara averted her eyes momentarily. In her hands… a tickle had developed in her palms at the thought, or an itch. She rubbed her hands together, trying to alleviate the feeling.
“-as thinking about the laundry room,” Willow was saying, “How we moved the machine.”
Having clued into the fact her friend had been talking, the blonde jolted a bit. “Uh huh.” She said quickly.
I had to be reading when she called. The blush that covered her cheeks, there was no containing.
Her friend turned to her, beckoning her over with her eyes, “I thought we could do that again, but this time together-together.” When Tara looked dazed, she clarified, “Like, not you aiming me but – you
and me,” She gesticulated between them and only stopped when Tara nodded.
I swear I’m smart, I know words. Willow felt all out of sorts, off somehow. But, Tara was a calming presence as she sat opposite her. She let out a deep sigh, placing the rose in the circle. “I’m glad you wanted to get together, I know it’s late.”
“Thanks,” The blonde said a bit awkwardly. She rolled her eyes and grinned, “I was happy you called.” Something felt odd, Willow looked… radiant. That in itself wasn’t odd at all, it was the fact Tara seemed to be looking through a lens filter. Candle light bounced off her red locks, the girl’s cheeks pink and warm. When hands were offered in the distance between them, without a thought Tara took them.
“We’ll start out slow,” Was all Willow said before closing her eyes, the blonde followed suit again. Without a thought. At least for a moment…
“Willow?” She enquired sweetly after peeking, “Start out slow doing… what?”
Willow’s lips formed a silent ‘Oh’.
Duh. “We’re gonna float the rose. Then, use the magics to pluck the petals off, one at a time.” She could already feel herself sinking, a pleasant feeling of calm suffusing her.
Tara sat there, listening to what sounded like the most romantic spell she’d ever heard. Wondering if her friend had any idea.
Innocent, it’s innocent – not romantic, Tara.“It’s a test of synchronicity,” Willow grinned, “Our minds have to be perfectly attuned to work as a single, delicate implement.” She said and her smile grew a bit.
I’ve got to be looking dopey right now. The blonde thought, “Cool.”
I really feel dopey. This shouldn’t be too difficult though… She closed her eyes and heard: “And it should be very pretty.” She had to peek then, and smile because really – a rose had nothing on Willow.
Hands linked, eyes closed, they both fell silent in concentration. Willow opened up and let her energy seep through without giving it a goal. Just, expanding from her skin all around and, where her hands touched Tara’s she could feel… her. Tara was on her hands, in her hands then up her arms, neck, and crown of her head. A shiver ran down her spine, the air shimmered and through her closed eyelids the light in the room brightened.
Wow… wow, wow, wow, wow…. She needed to concentrate, she really, really, really…
Easy, easy Willow. Tara thought as if breaking in a filly. When Willow came on, the punch was something else.
What are we doing, again?They weren’t communicating. Willow didn’t
hear her friend’s question, she felt it. Had it – the question. And when she answered… herself? Tara also knew.
And, in knowing they thought of the rose. They thought of the rose rising… the rose rising. Visualizing the rose… the space between the carpet and it. The space growing, the rose raising.
Together, they created space and the rose… rose.
They both let go of each other’s hands at the same time. Tara opened her eyes to see, “It worked.” She softly said.
Willow was pleased but, “Now for the hard part,” Giving Tara a glance, “The petals.”
They looked at the rose, taking in its details before starting again but they never got a chance. A burst of… what Tara felt as dark energy of some sort - chaotic - It filled the room in a flash. The rose took on a life of its own, being propelled around the room narrowly missing them in its crazed rampage.
Willow was shocked, “What the heck was that!?” She asked, then looked at Tara completely perplexed.
She couldn’t be sure at all, “I don’t know, but” The blonde pointed at the now petal-less rose, smoking on the ground. “The petals are off.” She giggled and pointed, still not willing to let the good Willow-vibe go. “Felt like a spell, a dark spell.” Once the words were out of her mouth, she sobered a bit, “We should probably lay off the magic for tonight.” At Willow’s pout she winced slightly, “Sorry.”
Willow looked at her alarm clock and squeaked in surprise, “It’s two-thirty in the morning!” She set to clean things up anxiously, “I should let you sleep.”
“Stay,” It was Tara, but… the steeliness in her voice gave it a timbre Willow hadn’t heard before. “I’d rather you stay, I d-don’t know what just happened.” Whatever it had been, she didn’t like it. The taste of it was still in her mouth; letting Willow go home at this time of night… On a Hellmouth? “Please? I’d-I’d really feel better.”
When Willow seemed to weigh her options Tara quickly explained, “I’ll sleep on the floor.” She was already on her way to the closet, “I-I have extra blankets I c-could-“
Ok, Willow what the heck do you do now!? If this were anyone else, she wouldn’t think twice before putting the kibosh on them sleeping on the ground.
Like a dog! Willow was distraught and conflicted to the heavens and back. “I really need a shower, though…”
With her arms full of blankets, Tara couldn’t really see Willow at the moment, “Go, take s-something from the dresser to sleep in.” The bundle was dropped onto the bed, the blonde busy sorting through them – organizing herself a little nest. “Towels and toiletries are in the closet.”
The redhead’s stomach turned, acid roiling. Tara didn’t seem to mind at all, but to her it just wasn’t done. Not to a stranger, let alone someone you liked, “Which drawer?” She asked halfheartedly.
***
It hadn’t been a question, really – it hadn’t even occurred to her to sleep in the same bed as Willow. It had taken her a moment to realize this probably wasn’t obvious to her friend, though.
I’m not an idiot… just, dense.She wasn’t used to being out and she sure as heck wasn’t used to pointing out things that made her different. But, she figured she needed to act more like a straight boy in situations like these, and be blatantly obvious that she had no ulterior motives.
So complicated. She sighed, brushing out her hair.
Willow was taking her shower, the room was dimly lit as usual. Tara was sitting in her little nest, having changed already. She put the brush aside and scooted in to keep warm, her toothbrush and paste were in the toiletry bag and Willow had that.
***
You can’t, you just can’t. Her hair was a big ball of suds, her fingers furiously scrubbing. Willow’s brain was racing.
I can’t just let her sleep on the floor either, though.Would it be leading Tara on to welcome her to her own bed?
Why don’t I sleep on the floor? I can be the guy, I should be the guy. Of course, that wasn’t the most enticing of choices but wouldn’t it be the best thing to do? Not be a guy but, to sleep on the floor. Do the noble thing?
She rinsed off, happy for her short hairdo. Did quick work of washing herself amid some yawns, having decided that she would switch with Tara.
It’s the right thing to do.She toweled off and pulled on the borrowed tank and shorts. She had to chuckle, Tara’s clothes were just a size too big for her.
She fills them perfect, though. She thought sourly, pulling at the tanktop gently. Willow peeked down its front, “Any day now, ladies.”
***
She’d been resting her eyes, arms folded behind her head laying in her nest when the door opened. Tara opened her eyes lazily to see Willow in the doorway. A shaft of light from the hall was illuminating her, dark red hair all mussed. She’d chosen much the same outfit as Tara but…
Uhmgawd. Slowly, her arms came down, hands under the covers – she pulled them up. All the way up.
“Oof,” Willow said softly, putting down her things. “Much better.” She smiled and looked over at Tara – she had to laugh then. “Where are you?” The only thing she could see of her was the top of her head, and her eyes. Blinking, large and blue. “Are you cold, or something?”
Gods, no. “Um,” Tara’s voice was muffled by her blankets, “So, good shower huh?” She nodded dumbly.
Don’t look at her legs. Don’t loo – I told you! “Good.” She replied quickly before Willow had a chance to answer.
Dead kittens. Dead kittens.“Yeah,” Willow started tentatively, now distracted by her own thoughts, “Tara… I don’t feel right letting you sleep on the floor.” She tried the puppy eyes, maybe a little pout. If push came to shove, she’d pull out the big guns: Resolve face. No one resisted that. No one.
Tara pulled her guard of sheets down a bit, things didn’t make sense now. “There’s only one bed.” She sat up, “I wouldn’t feel right you sleeping down here, either.” She shrugged, “But, you’re my guest. Hence, you get the bed.” She indicated with a nod of her head in the direction of said bed.
Just go to bed Willow, for crying out loud. Do something, but don’t just… stand there looking like that.Willow’s feet shuffled slightly, she wasn’t expecting the turnaround. “But,” She tried to find a way to explain that she, in fact, was right. When she couldn’t, an excuse came to mind, “I’ll just be laying there not able to sleep knowing you’re down there.”
Tara rubbed her forehead, it was past late. They both had to get up again relatively soon, “Fine.” She said as she started to get up, “It’s so late, Willow. It doesn’t matter.” Feeling a little perturbed now, she wanted to brush her teeth and just go to bed.
Now she’s annoyed at me, great. Willow was reprimanding herself when Tara stood from her nest.
I should’ve just… Oh, lookatthat… no, no don’t look at that. Her feet were racing away from where Tara was going, she was trying her top best not to stare. What she’d glimpsed had been stirring enough as it was.
“I won’t be long,” The blonde said as she moved to the door with her bag in hand, “You better be snoring when I’m back.” She scowled but it was obviously good natured.
Willow pouted, “I don’t snore.” She said indignantly, crouching into the still-Tara-warm nest.
Mmm kinda cozy. Wiggling around a bit, she tried to find the perfect spot.
Ok, less cozy… She sighed, this might turn out to be a sleepless one.
She hadn’t thought of the spell until right then. How it had felt, how it still felt. There was a remnant of Tara buzzing through her. She liked the feeling, a lot. If she couldn’t sleep, at least she’d be laying here feeling this way.
I can live with that.“I don’t hear snoring.” Tara said from the door. “I don’t snore.” Replied the redhead. The lights flicked off and Willow heard a giggle in the dark, “You should be sleeping.” Her tone had gone soft, soothing and light.
Willow heard the ruffles of blankets being flipped, the pressing of a mattress spring, “You’re not the boss of me.” She said, her voice coming out much more vulnerable than she’d intended.
“If I were,” Tara said decidedly as she closed her eyes, “You wouldn’t be down there.”
There were a few minutes that passed in silence. Tara was about to say goodnight, thinking Willow would already be dozing off. The surprise she felt when the mattress shifted, she couldn’t compare to any she’d ever felt in her life.
“Is this ok, then?” Willow’s voice was so small, “It doesn’t mean anything, promise.” Tara was frozen in place, on her side facing away. What Willow said made no sense, it’s
her she needed to worry about. “The floor kinda sucks.”
Cute. Damnit. “It’s o-ok, don’t worry.” She tried to relax under the covers, Willow’s warmth was starting to fill the gaps. Tara… well Tara wasn’t going to get any sleep for sure. “Good night Willow.”
She soon found out that Willow had lied. She did snore.
***