Wills redemption: Thanks for your feedback. I am glad that you liked the Buffy/Tara interaction
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But it left me with the nagging doubt if for Buffy and Dawn Willow has subconsciously lost the status of family member, considering that neither of them seems to care how she is feeling / doing anymore. Sure, Tara is easier to care for right now, obviously and somehow quietly suffering - caring for Willow would be more difficult, she might react aggressively if they asked her how she was doing (in my mind I have the picture of a trapped and injured dog who growls and snaps at someone trying to help it).
I like your metaphor for Willow- she is definitely feeling defensive and rightfully so in some ways. But also, Willow did a really bad thing to Tara,there were reasons yes- and I will explore those- but right now, it is still just a week or so after and I think Buffy has her own issues and some of those revolve around Willow- not necessarily fairly all the time, but Buffy has been through a lot too- they all have
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Also I'm a bit miffed that Tara doesn't seem to be even a bit worried about Willow's wellbeing. If you leave the love of your life because he/she has a drinking problem you don't just stop worrying for him / her. Tara couldn't cope with Willow's magical overuse but now all she worries about is that Willow mustn't know about her panic attacks? That seems somehow odd to me.
It's funny because in my mind Tara doesn't want Willow to know because she DOES care about her, because she doesn't want Willow to worry. Otherwise, why ask Buffy to keep it from her? But I did not explicitly write it that way so it's definitely open to interpretation. And no, you don't stop worrying about a loved one with a problem, but if that loved one abuses you (with that problem- twice) and now you are spiraling into panic attacks, I think you get to be selfish for a little bit. I hope I have shown that Tara still cares in previous chapters, but I also wanted to give Tara her own tale since it pretty much solely revolved around Willow in the show.
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(No offence meant - you already pointed out how protective I feel for Willow).
You are entitled to your opinion and I am not offended at all. I do worry that you are not going to like this story much for the next several chapters though. I am writing this fic as a delve into what happened after Tabula Rasa, for both of our heroines. I have discovered that I am a very slow writer - both in how long it takes me to get stuff out and in the timing of the story- it's meant to be a deep dive and that is going to take a while- it starts in a bad place, it starts in a place where lots and lots of healing and communication and love is needed- but it will take work to get there, so I hope you stay with the story- but Willow will be dealing with some rough stuff for a bit (although I do think we see some changes soon in both her and other characters perspectives) all the characters will. Except Spike. But he's barely in this so far.
Zooey's_Bridge Damn I love how you break down Tara's role in The Body, and in effect in the show- the observer, the empath, the healer, the sage. The quiet and steady roots that anchor the grand Scooby tree. My appreciation for Tara and Buffy's friendship has definitely grown from 'aw sweet' to 'wow, that is real connection' I think Buffy is at her softest and most vulnerable with Tara. Thank you for your continued presence!
Wilderness
Author: shirrey (Beth)
Rating:
R (NOTE THE CHANGE)
Distribution: please ask
Disclaimer: I own nothing that ME created, except in my dreams.
Feedback: I would love it!! It is such a gift and helps me be a better writer. But thank you for reading mostly, feedback left or not - this is also such a gift
Angst: mid
Notes :This is another flashback, or remembrance or thing that happened before present fic time. I wanted to have this finished a while ago and fit it in earlier so it made more sense thematically with the story, but the world is on fire right now, so priorities shifted...
Set in February, approximately 10 months prior to the current fic time.
Thanks to my beta- I added a little cold element for you
ETA: reworked 6/19/22
Ch 16: February
Approximately 10 months earlierWillow huddled next to the space heater, placed in the center of her room, carefully distanced from the large bookcase spanning her dorm room wall. Under her was a wooly blanket, checked and purple, the edges bunched to create a warm nest. The thermals she wore had been dug out from the back of her dresser drawer as soon as Southern California had dipped into wintery degrees. February hung like a chilled shadow and Willow had complained about the cold for weeks. Tonight felt frigid, and Willow couldn’t get warm.
Tara seemed unaffected, sitting at the computer desk in a pair of fuzzy pajama bottoms and a thermal long sleeve. She loved this time of year, the cold weather barely registering for someone who spent her childhood in an occasionally snowy mountain town. February, to her, was serene, a time of reflection as the earth rested, caught between the quiet death of winter and the quieter birth of spring.
The stillness echoed in the room, broken only by the soft clicking of the heater and the arrhythmic tapping of Tara’s fingers on the keyboard. The usual ambient sounds- students laughing in the quad below or chatting loudly in the shared hallway, the faint music from neighboring rooms- seemed to have been enveloped by February’s shroud. Willow wondered if the silence made too much space for her own thoughts. If that was why she couldn’t shake the worry that had lodged itself in her mind.
Willow rocked slightly forward, steadying the textbook on her lap, the thick wool blanket under her bunching at her foot.The heater blared against her back. She peeked at the blonde and smiled softly. Tara was in full study mode, hands paused, fingers tucked into loose fists, a small crinkle in her brow forming what Willow had named her ‘thinky face’. Tara chewed on her full bottom lip, and Willow yearned as she released it to mouth silent words- ideas churning on her silent tongue.
Tara tucked her leg up to her chest, the magenta hearts of her fuzzy pajama bottoms stretching across her calf. Tara had worn those for Valentine’s Day, the one concession Tara made- since she already owned the pair- for a holiday neither believed in.
Willow hated the forced romance and saccharine capitalism. Tara was bothered that beautiful flowers had been rushed through their natural growing cycle, or grown in artificial settings, so people could hand them out in the middle of winter, just to toss them a week later. They’d forgone presents and fancy dinners and spent it like many other nights- ordering in Thai and watching an old Hitchcock film on Willow’s computer. Later, as the half-moonlight fanned across their bed, they had made love.
That had been five days ago. Willow sighed softly, remembering the night.
Willow swiveled a little more to her left, aiming to heat all sides equally and continuously. She wondered how Tara could stand being away from the heater. Wondered how she was going to start what she needed to say.
She knew it was silly, knew it was probably nothing, but that knowledge didn’t convince her insides from getting all twisty. It didn’t help her busy mind as it tripped over itself with catastrophe.
Willow glanced back at her own textbook and flipped to the next page. She shook her head softly, urging her mind to let it go.
Moments passed, Willow passing over portions of texts without reading them. She flicked her eyes to Tara again, frowning as the blonde now chewed absently on her thumbnail, seeming to write, erase, and rewrite a portion of her essay. Tara wouldn’t be done anytime soon.
The worry continued to poke at Willow, built under her skin. She knew if she didn’t speak up she might blurt something stupid, and probably hurtful, later. It was a matter of finding the words so they, she, could get past this. She sighed, far louder than she had intended, and it caught Tara’s attention. The blonde smiled at her, a flick of warmth before returning to her work.
Willow couldn’t wait anymore.
Closing her textbook and pushing it to the side, Willow pulled the wooly blanket around her body. She hesitated, doubting herself again, scooting closer to But, if she could engage Tara, maybe prove herself wrong, they could avoid a conversation spurred on by insecurities.
It took some maneuvering to get up. Willow rolled to her knees, pushing her weight to her heels, trying to keep the blanket from dropping as she moved out of the direct reach of the tiny, glorious, heater. It was the best thing she had bought in a while. She waddled toward Tara like a cold and shuffle-y penguin.
She stopped behind where Tara sat, and bent at the waist, snaking out an arm and looping it around Tara’s neck. She kissed behind Tara’s left ear, “Baby?”
“Hmm?” Tara asked, she still focused on the screen before her but her body leaned into Willow instinctively. They had their own gravitational pull. Willow’s heart fluttered eagerly and she dotted kisses along Tara’s neck, hoping to draw more of the blonde’s attention.
“It’s so cold, how can it be this cold?”
“Mmm,” Tara tipped her neck further to the side, exposing the soft skin to allow more butterfly kisses. Willow increased her attention with a grin that melted away when Tara dipped her head forward. Willow let her arm slip free and hang her side.
Tara dropped her bent leg to the ground, shifting her weight so she could turn. She intended to place a small kiss on Willow’s lips, just one indulgence before she made herself focus on her work.
But the sight before her - Willow, swaddled in fabrics - was adorably absurd. Tara’s eyes grew wide, lips pressed together and inward with mirth.
“Sweetie, you look like a burrito,” Tara said, grinning widely. She tugged at the wooly blanket playfully, “It’s not
that cold.”
Willow’s eyes went owlish and she shivered for good measure, “It's 45 degrees!”.
Tara paused for effect. “Outside."
Willow stuck out her lower lip, huffing just a little, “Still.” Tara melted into a soft smile, and placed her hands on Willow’s arms, one tucked, one free, rubbing them warmer.
"It’s a good thing there are no actual seasons here, you wouldn’t survive.” She teased lightly, half-smiling at the girl before her.
“I would if you were there to snuggle me, keep me warm-” Willow trailed off, her voice girlish.
“Darling, you know I love our snuggle time, but this paper is due Thursday - I have to get it done.” She met Willow’s gaze, hoping to convey assurance. She brought Willow’s free hand to her lips and placed a small kiss before releasing it and turned back to the computer.
Any other day, Willow would have respected Tara’s need to do her schoolwork. Willow respected school - and work – and watching as Tara worked scholastically was a favorite, and alluring, pastime. But insecurity nagged at her, bullying its way to the front and driving her actions.
Willow shuffled closer and peered over Tara’s shoulder, vaguely reading as new words appeared across the screen, Tara replacing one sentence for another.
“But that’s like two whole days away. Ok, maybe a day and a half now, but you have no classes after 4 tomorrow so – look how much time you have.”
“This coming from ‘Miss - I have all my papers written a week early or I can’t sleep at night - Rosenberg’ ?” Tara teased, tweaking a verb in her last sentence.
Willow felt a sour mix of guilt and rejection, and then guilt again at feeling rejected. How many times had she rebuffed an affectionate Tara when she’d had papers due in the next few weeks? Not often, but it happened, and what if Scoobyage was needed tomorrow? Tara shouldn’t be left out because Willow had taken this time from her. Getting work done early was partly so that they wouldn’t be scrambling the night before and then miss a deadline because someone was trying to end the world.
With a soft sigh she quickly kissed the top of Tara’s head, “I know, I’m sorry. You need to be studious.” She crossed back to the heater and sat quietly.
The abruptness of the kiss, mixed with the tone pulled Tara’s attention to the redhead. She watched Willow walk away, a slight quirk in her brow. Either Willow was feeling very very frisky or something was bothering her. Enough to make Willow stray from the blessed heater. Enough to make Willow persist during sacred study time.
Both arms free, Willow sat and replaced her textbook in her lap, head bowed as she listlessly dropped her focus to the open page below.
“Baby?” Tara asked softly. She waited for Willow to meet her eyes, "you ok?”
“Just gettin’ toasty,” disappointment and something else colored Willow’s voice, painted her features although she tried to mask it. She smiled tightly and returned her gaze to her lap again. They sat in silence for a moment. Willow wrapped herself tighter, the cold air oppressive in her mood. Tara recognized the withdrawal, frowning as she searched her memory for something that she may have done wrong, something that upset Willow.
Tara pressed save on her document and pushed the chair back with her feet. She crossed to where Willow sat, chewing her lower lip, aware of Tara’s movement. Tara slipped behind her, wrapping her arms around Willow’s huddled form, the fabric thickening her waist.
“I thought I wasn’t getting snuggles,” Willow teased weakly. Tara had read her. She had wanted Tara’s attention, and she couldn’t deny the relief of being in her arms, but now that she had actually pulled the blonde away from her work- Willow flushed with guilt again.
“You’re very tempting.” Tara said, her tone serious and quiet around the playful words. She squeezed Willow’s middle gently.
Willow folded into Tara. Several moments passed, anticipation thick in the air, the sound of the heater clicking nearby.
Finally Willow spoke, soft and confessional. “I just … I need you to know how much I love you.”
Tara felt her breath hitch at the wounded tone, “I do know that.” She swayed them together, an instinctual movement, “what’s going on darling?”
“I just-,” Willow hesitated and snuggled in impossibly more, her soft voice muffled, “it’s been, like, five days.”
Tara was silent for a moment, Willow could imagine the slight pensive crinkle as Tara worked it out.
“Oh,” Tara loosened her hold a little so she could tuck her chin over Willow’s shoulder, the fabric scratchy against her skin.
“I-I guess so,” she agreed gently, “that bothers you? W-we’ve gone a few days w-without before.”
Willow shifted, Tara feeling the nervous roll of the redhead’s shoulder, “A few. Not five.”
“Ok. And that makes you worry,” Tara stated, her soft words drawn out, defining what she was hearing. “Are you worried that I don’t w-want to? Because, that is, so, definitely n-not the case.”
Tara was stuttering and Willow felt even worse for, probably needlessly, upsetting her. Willow shook her head.
“I know, I’m being silly. We’ve both been busy. There’s so much going on.”
“But?”
Willow dipped her head, “Riley left.”
Tara blinked, her mouth opened and closed, trying to wrap her words around what that had to do with their sex life, “He did. B-but- What does that have to do with us?”
Willow scrunched her face, unsure how to explain the insecurity that plagued her. She sighed.
“It just got me thinking, and that thinking led to worrying, and it’s been so quiet, and then,” Willow shrugged, faintly aware that she was no longer cold, “The no sex. I just, I know it’s dumb, I just. I started to get afraid that we would drift apart - like Buffy and Riley did. And I know we aren’t th-”
“Baby,” Tara soothed, interrupting gently. Her head tilted as she looked at Willow. Willow leaned back and to the side, gaining a better view of her love and the brief flicker of worry in her wide, deep green eyes faded at the gentle look she was given. It calmed her and the words fell loose.
“And I keep telling myself I’m being silly, or a worry wart, and I don’t want to be silly or,” Willow frowned, “a wart. Of any kind.” She shook her head, the blanket falling further down her arms, fingers free to twist nervously against each other. “And I know I love you, and, I know you love me, and, I know that should be enough - and it is! It so is. It’s more than enough. It’s everything, even.”
Tara held her. She listened. And Willow went on. “It’s just, I love you so much sometimes, I-I worry that it’s going to go wrong. That something will happen. And when Riley left, I mean, I wasn’t 100% surprised, but they seemed to be doing ok. And then-” Willow paused and let her gaze fall to the floor and when she looked up again tears formed in Tara’s eyes, clinging to her lashes. Because in Willow’s eyes was that same shimmering gaze, her lips pressed and tweaked fighting the fall of her own tears.
Tara used her hands to move so she was facing Willow. Legs still entwined, she crossed her ankles behind her girlfriend, using heels resting against the soft flesh of Willow’s butt to urge Willow closer into their cocoon. Tara cupped Willow’s cheek, her thumb tucking away an errant strand of hair and caressing her ear before weaving her fingers upward into soft fine red locks. Just once, just enough to make Willow shiver.
Hand cupped around the nape of Willow’s neck, Tara brought Willow forward meeting her lips in the in between. Tara pressed fiercely as she gathered Willow in her embrace, her arms slipping into the wool tortilla blanket and tightening around Willow’s back. With strong hands she fitted their bodies together. It was possessive and generous, a gentle admonishment and a fierce promise. It was the purest response Tara could give.
Tara lifted the sweatshirt off her own body, tossing it on the bed and Willow shivered. A small place in her mind remembered the chill in the air, her body had already forgotten.
Tara unwrapped Willow from her blanket, again rubbing the redhead’s arms briskly to keep her warm, before pulling Willow’s nightshirt off, red strands waterfalling from the collar and settling on Willow’s bare shoulders.
Tara didn’t speak. Her touch, her lips, her shallowing breath, said enough. She smoothed her tongue across Willow’s lips, parting them and pushing inside, soothing, sucking, dancing their tongues together. She sifted her fingers through Willow’s hair, gathered the strands and tangled them in her fists. She stood, darkened eyes locked with Willow’s own and pulled the fabric of her pants down, hooked her underwear by her thumbs and followed their path, leaving both articles pooled on the floor.
Willow hummed, a breathless whisper, as her own bottoms were slid down and then away. Tara dropped her head and sucked Willow’s nipple firmly into her mouth, taking, reminding. Tara held Willow once again with her legs. Entwined and exposed. Small goosebumps rose on Willow’s sensitive skin, Tara’s hands reading them. Memorizing with touch where bones sculpted her flesh. Speaking with touch.
Tara kept Willow pressed to her, one hand between Willow’s shoulder blades, the other trailing between her breasts, in a diagonal across her stomach absorbing the flutter of Willow’s want. Her hand sifted through damp red curls, caressing the wetness just below. And then, as she entered Willow, as two fingers slid into warmth and stilled, Tara said aloud, “I love you.” Then Tara moved in her.
Willow arched, her body restrained in Tara’s arms, breasts flushed together, taught nipples meeting, kissing. The clicking sounds of the heater smothered by Willow’s moans. Her head thrown back, hips thrusting on stroking fingers.
Tara held her from within.
And when Willow peaked, desperate hands clenching and unclenching on Tara’s shoulder blades, in her tousled hair, a mantra rose in Tara’s voice, a sacred chant: “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Lost with one another they tumbled in ecstasy and conviction.
They eased each other down with soft kisses and delicate caresses, drifting like feathers to solid ground. Two souls, overwhelmed with joy, reflected in wet glistening eyes, pools of green and blue. Willow felt her chest expand and she idly thought she would burst with gratitude, with renewed faith.
“I love you,” Willow’s breath shuddered as foreheads touched, “Thank you, Tara, thank you.”
Tara lifted Willow’s chin and met her eyes, holding her gaze with the truth of them. Then, as her lips formed a half-smile, she leaned in and dotted Willow’s face with quick, playful pecks until Willow laughed, giddy and free. Willow tapped the tip of Tara’s nose and mirth sang in her tired voice, “I thought you were writing a paper.”
Tara smiled, “I was keeping you warm.”. She moved to wrap herself closer to Willow’s body, barred from her goal when Willow’s body twisted.
“Oof, why is this thing still on?” Willow asked rhetorically, reaching out and catching the switch on the heater with just the tips of her fingers, clicking it off. Willow turned back to Tara, her hand waving like a fan.
Tara erupted in laughter and lunged forward, tackling Willow and kissing her hard as they toppled onto the floor.