This is a very very brief break from Legends. Promise Just a lil vinette because I was inspired and because I needed an anti-angst outlet.





Title: Flying 1/1

Feedback: - Feeding the writer is encouraged and generally smiled upon.

Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com

Distribution: Just let me know.

Spoilers: Very light Season six and prior

Rating: G·

Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co.

For: Rane, my friend and mutual member of the Rane/MC story fanclub.



Flying

by Mariacomet



The rain danced on the pavement outside. She used to think, when she believed in such things, that this was the universe’s way of keeping time with her heart. Something deep and old in the world had always been a friend to her, though she couldn’t put a name to it. It had always seemed to watch over her. In the cloudless days of youth, she would dream of being in a field, stretching out her arms, and running as fast as she could. People CAN fly, her mother had told her once. Tara hadn’t understood what her mother meant.



People CAN fly. Not just after they live and become angels, though Tara certainly believed in angels – or at least guardian spirits. It didn’t depend on how smart they were, how outgoing, or even how talented - people could soar…



There had been no field of flowers where she’d grown up. No place where she could run free. Tara Maclay never stopped looking. It was a gift that gave her wings – the simple gift, a soft voice – telling her to never give up. Never give up, Never give up, Never give up.



************************************************************************



Thunder galloped across the sky and lightning, not to be outdone, hissed out its tongue – a flashing white in a black, dreary night. Willow Rosenberg sat by the hospital bed, exhaustion making her back ache. When she had arrived at the hospital, it had been morning. By noon, she’d taken this place at Tara’s side, holding her hand. Willow’s shimmering green eyes were fixed on her lover’s face, searching for any hint of change. Her baby’s lips were parted and it looked like she was just sleeping. A sweet dream where she was at peace. That was all. It would have been an easy picture to believe were it not for the jagged scar on Tara’s otherwise unblemished features.



Buffy, Xander and Anya were outside. Family only, the hospital staff had insisted. Willow lied and said she was, only it wasn’t a lie at all. Lightning broke the sky again.

The spell was a difficult one, and Willow had wanted to try, despite all the dangers that might come from her breaking her promise to not use magic. She and the other Scoobies had argued about it bitterly. It was decided that Tara would try the spell and Willow would help with the research. The redhead hadn’t liked it. She’d stormed away, going up to the second floor of the magic shop and slamming books around, gathering what Tara needed.



Tara had climbed up after her.



“Can I guess you’re not happy?” She had asked with the hint of a smile.



“Well, gosh and tarnation – suddenly I’m Willow the wonderstooge just because…”



“Because they love you.” Tara reached out for her partner’s hand. “You know that right?”



She did and the storm of anger in her quieted at Tara’s touch. Just like that – tamed. How did Tara do that? It was almost like every time they were together, a spell was cast on Willow, one that could calm her, or make her crazy or make her so happy that all words deserted her. “I know. But I don’t like this. I don’t like feeling like Ms. Couch Potato while your doing this kind of spell.”



“You feel helpless.” The blonde witch observed.



“I *feel* like I should be helping.”



“You will be.” Tara soothed, her fingertips drawing small circles over Willow’s palm. “Always.”



The hacker sighed, still feeling restless and frustrated.. “Yeah, but this isn’t a ‘Willow loves Tara’ thing. This is a ‘Willow wants to kick ass and make sure Tara is safe, thing.’”



A kiss from the blonde was the immediate answer. Willow’s eyes closed and she leaned into the softness of Tara’s mouth, despite herself. “It’s always a ‘Willow loves Tara’ thing.” The witch whispered.



It was hard not to smile at that kind of sentiment. Especially when it was so impossibly true. Willow’s eyes filled with the agreement of the words, glowing for Tara…only for Tara.



“Trying to be self righteous here, baby.” Willow said in a last ditch attempt.



“Oh.” Tara feigned horror. “Am I not helping?” Laughter bubbled forward, and another kiss followed. “Honey, Buffy’s been teaching you to use weapons, right? And you are still our resident gizmo, what’s it fixer upper, computer, super research girl…if you were the witch too, what would I do?” A lascivious look slide firmly onto the hacker’s face. “Vixen!” Tara called out. Willow just kept smiling. This resulted in a poke to the redhead’s ribs and a minor tickle fight. “Came up here to talk! T.A.L.K.”



Willow had wrestled into a position atop Tara somewhere during the tickle fight. She grinned down at the woman she loved. This was the way it should be, she thought. Them. Together. Laughing. Teasing, Melting into the company of one another. I almost lost this. “You have my complete attention.”



“You know I’ll need an anchor for the spell. In all the…well with you being upset…we

haven’t had a chance to talk about that.”



It was an unnecessary question. Who else would Tara ask, and who else would Willow even consider letting do such a thing for her girl? Staring down at her quietly, seriously, Willow saw Tara’s eyes as a doorway to heaven. My heaven. Her brow creased a moment. My home. Home is where you feel safe, where you relax and be…and just be. She had never known that until Tara. “I won’t let you go.” Willow said simply.



It was an answer to Tara’s words and to everything. Willow brought Tara’s hand up and kissed her palm.



************************************************



Helpless was a word that implied a search for a means of action. She had always been a woman of action. Xander constantly referred to the Slayerettes as comic book heroes. He did so now as he brought her coffee. He kept doing that. Coffee, cookies, magazines, chocolates. At least once every hour he’d disappear, and arrive with something else. This time he slid an arm around Willow’s shoulders.



“Will, the doc say she’s okay. Maybe you should get some rest…” This was a repeat too. Buffy, Xander, all of them had tried talking her into resting. “She’s just worn out. She was the little engine that could today.” The doctors had actually said that Tara’s chance of recovery was good. Good, not assured. Rest usually helped. The official diagnosis was that the Tara Maclay had suffered a minor heart attack. They had wanted to do tests, because they didn’t understand why someone so young…in such good health would…After tests and more tests and yet more tests, none of the doctors had come up with anything to say. Rest and observation was their best diagnosis. In other words they were saying ‘wait.’ First it was ‘wait’ for the tests, then ‘wait’ for lab to get the results back. When the doctors disappeared, the nurses insisted that Willow had to ‘wait’ till Dr. Such and Such was available. So many doctors ferreting in and out of, the redhead could barely tell them all apart, much less remember their names. She didn’t care. She just wanted one of them to make Tara better.



She wanted to say things to make sure they knew Tara was different. Tara wasn’t like the countless faces they saw every day. She wasn’t just another number or just another patient to be billed. Willow wanted to explain to them that this was Tara. Tara was one that had taught her how to be a champion thumb wrestler, how to press rose petals, what the meaning of a perfect summer day was. Tara had helped her understand why poets write poetry.



It was all a means of defining perfection. Perfect love. Perfect pain. Perfect…Her eyes moved over her lover’s face. Tara had taught her new meanings for many words – happy, living, springtime…



And then Tara’s blue eyes flickered open and the word perfect was defined all over again. The sky was not falling. The world was not crumbling. Hope could be trusted. Life, that flickering candle, burned so brightly that it was blinding – especially in two tired blue eyes.



Beside Willow, Xander grinned in relief. “I’ll get the doctor. And I’ll call Dawn and Spike. And I’ll tell the others. Right. Going now. Right.” Tears from Willow soaked his shirt as she gave him a quick hug. He pulled himself together and laid his hand over the hands of the two lovers, then made his exit.



Willow leaned closer and smiled, trying to make it not half as watery as she felt. “Hey baby.” She whispered.



“Kiss me good morning?” The blonde murmured, not quite aware of where she was.

The redhead’s heart leapt and she stretched forward, pressing her lips to Tara’s brow reverently. “Mmm. Willowkisses.” Tara tried to sit up and frowned. “Ow. Willow, I don’t think sitting up should hurt like that.”



Willow laughed, relief and gratitude racing in her like horses. “Well, you’ve had a long day.” She brushed her fingertips in Tara’s hair, her breathing was ragged, as if she had just run a long way. “I love you.”



The blonde squinted at her partner and then at the room around them. “Hospital?” Tara asked with a tinge of alarm.



“Hospital.” Willow confirmed. “After the spell…”



“Did it work?”



The former witch nodded. “You did good, baby. And…It’s been pretty scary around here just watching you…but…It’s gonna be okay.”



The door to room literally burst open, and Buffy, and Anya and Xander surrounded the pair. They were all pushed aside moments later by a doctor. But it didn’t last. They were family, and he was beaten back by such a determined, concerned group. Later, Dawn and even Spike completed the circle.

**********************************************



Willow held Tara’s hand. Even after the blonde had been unable to keep her eyes open. Even after she, also, had succumbed to sleep.



Tara woke in the middle of the night to find Willow leaning back in a chair, nearby, snoring ever so softly. Their fingertips were still touching. She was safe. Willow hadn’t let go.



*********************************************



Dawn and Willow looked somewhat abashed as they walked in, their arms loaded with videos. “We panicked.” Willow admitted and proceeded to pile the tapes nearby. Buffy had moved the TV and VCR into Willow and Tara’s room. The blonde witch was under strict orders to stay in bed. She hadn’t liked that kind of command, and had been downright rebellious. Unfortunately, she had six wardens who were constantly monitoring her movements.



On the upside, Willow had been in snuggle mode with her most of the day. In fact, the redhead had been hovering constantly nearby. Usually with something that consisted of one of Tara’s favourite things - ‘Wrinkle in Time’ one of her favourite books, a bouquet of picked wild flowers, chocolate mocha – well actually that was a Willow favourite but Tara liked it too. Never in her life had Tara met someone as attentive to her as her lover. Her cheeks coloured as that thought took a decidedly different turn in her mind. The hacker glanced up and noticed the strange look.



“Feeling tired, baby?”



She was actually, but she didn’t like it. She knew that her body was responding to the energy she’s used casting the spell. She STILL didn’t like feeling so…drained. She felt like she should be up, helping run the house, making sure Dawn was getting her homework done, doing research. Tara yawned despite herself. Quickly she glanced up to see if Willow had seen. Willow had. Shoot.



“Okay, Dawnie…” The redhead announced. “Nap time in Tara land. We’ll resume video hour after this very important break.”



The teenager rather good-naturedly called Tara a faker but then walked over and kissed Tara’s cheek before departing. Willow tilted her head to one side and watched the scene. She didn’t say anything, but she had a funny little smile on her face.



“What are you thinking?” Tara asked. The other woman climbed into bed, carefully drawing the covers up over the blonde. Instinctively Tara shifted closer to Willow’s warmth and Willow wrapped her arms around her. The scent of Willow was cherry blossom and smoky. It drifted over Tara making her feel like the new moon had settled happily inside her. She watched the loving light in Willow’s eyes. “What?” She asked again.



“I was just thinking that I want to have everything with you. See everything through your eyes.” The blonde’s heart skipped a beat, and then all she could feel was Willow kissing her. Willow’s mouth fluttered against hers, parted just slightly, asking for possession. Tara pulled her closer and the kiss, though it remained gentle, became an exploration, and completion of a thought so filled with love and sensuality that Tara felt as if she and Willow were sharing one heart. They parted leisurely, quietly, letting themselves be sated with the kiss for now, then huddling together as if the whole world was icy except one another and they bed they lay in.



Love is the great horizon, a sky under which nothing is impossible. So in one another’s arms there were no monsters, no demons, not tomorrow – no yesterday – there was just an overwhelming feeling of flying.



There had been no field of flowers where Tara had grown up. No place where she could run free. Tara Maclay never stopped looking. It was a gift that gave her wings. A simple gift, a soft voice, telling her to never give up. Never give up, Never give up, Never give up.



A thought occurred to her and it made her claim her own kiss from her feisty Willowtree. “You’re my field, Willow.” Tara whispered. “You’re the place that I fly.”

That was adorable.







Great job.









brittney