Hey. Fanfiction here. Yay! >^_^< v Hope you enjoy!
Title: A Strange Occurance... (1/? - but will hopefully be suitably long. I like reading long fics the best, to be truthful, so why not write my own? Makes sense, doesn't it?)
Author: Me, obviously. WildLonelyNeko, at your service. *bows*
Disclaimer: Me no own W and T and everyone else - they belong to ME and Joss and everyone
Rating: PG13 for right now, may get R later, I haven't written all of it yet!
Spoilers: None, really. Maybe a little of the 4th season, but not much.
Feedback: Of course! I'm always influenced by comments and the people who leave them. It makes me a better writer, to be truthful.
Summary: 4th season: Willow gets bitten by a demon and strange things happen to her. Eventually, it leads her closer to Tara... *grin*
Anything Else: Am I supposed to write anything else? I'm not sure... So just pretend I said them, kay? *grin* Here we go!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Willow knew as well as everyone else did that her extracurricular activities were dangerous. However, this night had been different. Wiping slimy demon gunk off of her face, grimacing at how it weighed her hair down, matting it to her forehead, she collapsed into the chair Tara had pushed close to the bed earlier that day. The redhead smiled in remembrance.
Tara had been brushing Willow’s hair, playing with it, making it wacky and preppy. Laughing after seeing her hair pulled up in a rather pathetic Mohawk, the blonde teasing that she would spell it permanently, Willow had threatened to sneak into Tara’s dorm room one night and dye her toothpaste green. Tara had arched an eyebrow and asked with one of her trademark half-grins, “Well, I like playing with your hair. I rather don’t think you like playing with my… teeth…”
Willow sighed. She remembered the awkward silence after that, only broken when Tara had brushed her hair back into a semblance of normality. And then Buffy had called, requesting emergency backup.
Pulling her hand from underneath her large overcoat where it had been pressing against her side, Willow brought it up, studying the dark crimson substance that streaked across her hand. It was odd. The bite didn’t hurt. Not really. The only pain that she remembered was when the demon’s teeth had first punctured her - and even then it was only brief.
The demon, an ugly thing with green ridged skin and three horns rising from a sloped brow, an impressive amount of teeth protruding from its maw, large hands and feet and a spiky tail, seven feet tall, had managed to corner Willow behind a crypt. Having no time to cast a spell, the demon had quickly overpowered her and latched its teeth into her waist, crouching over her sideways. Fortunately, Buffy had shown up just then, skewering it in the back with her sword.
Hence the slime – blood, really – covering Willow’s face and body.
She hadn’t told Buffy, Xander, or Giles about her injury, just saying that the demon had her pinned her down. She didn’t want to appear weak. Or clumsy. Spastic. Something she usually did. Unfortunately.
She shivered. The slime was cooling on her skin and making her cold. Grabbing a towel and her toiletries, along with some clean clothes and bandages, Willow made her way to the showers. She knew no one was going to be there at this time of night, and she was glad. How would she explain her appearance? Along with her own blood she could feel trickling under her clothes…
How come it didn’t hurt? Her mind flashed to fanged snakes and tarantulas. Didn’t they have a chemical in their saliva that made it so when their spit mixed with the victim’s blood, pumping in their venom, the victim only felt numb?
That thought made her uncomfortable. Turning the knob to start the hot water flowing down, shucking her clothes and stepping under the welcome cleansing heat, she wondered. Did this mean the demon had pumped her with its venom? Poison?
She swallowed. Its… eggs? Young? Sperm?
She and the Scooby Gang didn’t know anything about it – yet. She would sure as hell research to find out if its reproductive system was in its mouth. She really hoped not. A thought made her giggle as she started to shampoo her hair, leaving her wound for last. If it was indeed in its mouth, poor male/female demon! The pain to mate!
But anyway. Willow massaged her hands through her hair, making her scalp tingle. She didn’t feel any different. Washing the slime from her face and neck, debating whether or not to bring her clothing in to wash them clean too, she turned her attention to the bite mark on her waist.
It was situated on the right side, just above her hip, tracking from right under the swell of her breast. Only piercing her with its three upper incisors, the rest of the teeth surprisingly blunt, clearly outlined with the angry purple of bruises, Willow couldn’t help but remember her theory of venom. Gently testing the puffy edges that leaked small trickles of blood quickly washed away by the water, she was surprised that she didn’t feel any pain. It worried her, but she made sure to clean the wound completely, dressing it after she was done with her shower.
Returning to the dorm room she shared with Buffy, she collapsed into her bed, for once not caring that she was going to bed with wet hair. She was asleep immediately.
* * *
The next morning, she got up as she normally did, shaking Buffy, asleep in the bed across the room, having snuck in sometime that morning after smoochie time with Riley. Willow didn’t envy her best friend, really. She had her own person she liked spending time with away from everyone else.
Even if she and Tara weren’t constantly making out – if even; Willow blushed at the thought. She was so attracted to her shy friend, having already admitted to herself a couple of weeks ago that she could even be attracted to a woman. She just wasn’t sure that Tara liked her back. Well, she knew that Tara liked her. She just didn’t know if she like liked her.
Checking her side while in the bathroom getting ready to go to class, she was satisfied when she noticed it had stopped bleeding sometime in the night. Redressing it, she pulled a bulky sweater over her head, glad that it was late winter, still cold enough to wear sweaters like the one she had chosen. Brushing her hair into some semblance of style, she went back to her dorm room to gather her books and laptop.
Rolling her eyes at Buffy still bundled up in bed, trying to fight the coming of the day, she shook her again, only stopping when a bleary eye glared up at her, “What!?”
“Buff’, class is going to start soon. You have to get up.”
“Don’t you usually leave early to meet up with Tara to do some ‘witchy stuff’?” Buffy asked, grumbling, pulling down her covers just enough so Willow could see her mouth forming her words.
“Yeah, so?” Willow asked, her heart skipping a beat when the Slayer mentioned Tara’s name.
As if satisfied with her answer, Buffy’s head disappeared back under the covers. She mumbled something.
“What?” Willow leaned closer, trying to understand.
“I said,” Buffy pulled her covers back down, her voice slightly edged. Willow didn’t mind; Buffy was always snippy in the morning, “That means I have another half n’ hour until I have to wake up. So please, let a tired Slayer get her rest. Please?”
Hearing how plaintive her friend asked, Willow finally relented. “Fine,” she grinned, “Just don’t blame me when I make you do the laundry this weekend if you’re late to class.”
Frankly, the laundry room held bittersweet memories for the red-haired wiccan. That was the place she had fully met Tara, their essences combining to send the soda machine crashing against the door, stopping the Gentlemen, to be sure. But it was also the place she had been cornered, her ankle throbbing, no voice to call for help. Willow always made sure she had someone with her every time she went in there now, feeling still sort of frightened if she was in there alone. Any opportunity to get Buffy to do washing duty was gladly welcomed.
Buffy turning over and snuggling into her pillow was answer enough. Willow shook her head, smiling at her friend’s antics, and left the room, locking it after her.
She walked down the hall, swinging her book bag back and forth, idly surprised that she didn’t feel tired or sore at all. In fact, she felt energetic, almost as if she could run all the way to Tara’s room. She contemplated doing so for a second, but then remembered that the blonde witch was going to meet her at the Espresso Pump that morning; she had said that there was something she wanted to talk about. Willow’s eyes glowed. A chance to have mocha-goodness and Tara-goodness first thing in the morning was a very pleasing thought.
Unfortunately, the Tara-goodness that would be even better just wasn’t possible now, if ever. Oh well. Willow sighed, crossing the quad, enjoying the morning sun on her skin; at least she still could make Tara smile. She didn’t do that enough.
* * *
Slipping into the Espresso Pump, her eyes scanning everywhere for her Tara, she finally spotted her sitting in one of those high café chairs, two mochas placed in front of her on the table. She was facing away from Willow, looking nervously around, tucking a long blonde bang behind her ear. Willow smiled at how adorable she looked, and walked over.
“I assume that one of those is for me?” she asked, taking the chair across from the older girl, setting her bag down next to a leg of the table, “Or unless you’re meeting someone else?”
Tara looked up, a full fledged smile blooming on her face, starting at one corner and crossing to the other. Her blue eyes met Willow’s shyly, and she pushed one of the mochas forward. “N-no. There’s no one e-else. I-I mean, n-no one else I’m m-meeting.”
Willow gratefully accepted that drink. “Mmm. Mocha-ey goodness! Thanks, Tara!” And indeed, the sweet and thick taste of warm mocha filled her mouth, traveling through her senses. She was pretty sure that it was the best taste in the world. That is… She snuck a glance at Tara, blushing faintly. My, she was even worse than when Oz was around!
She took another sip, smiling brightly. She studied the planes of Tara’s face, liking everything she saw. The way Tara wore her hair, the zigzagging line of her part that always reminded Willow of the first time that they met at the Wicca group. Her gentle blue eyes topped by light eyelashes, her gaze always so knowing and sweet. Tara’s strong nose, irresistible lips…
Wait. Tara was frowning at her!
“Tara! Is anything wrong?” She leaned forward, one hand coming up to gently take Tara’s, the one that had been playing with a napkin. Her brow furrowed, and she absently marveled at how strong and warm Tara’s hand felt in hers, “I-I mean, you wanted to talk and all, but I didn’t think anything was bugging you. If anything is bugging you, please, don’t hesitate to tell me! Is it me? Is it something I did? Please tell me if it’s something I did – or maybe I didn’t do! Did I not do something? You can tell me, I won’t mind. That is, if you want to tell me, is something that you can tell me. I wouldn’t want to force you to tell me – especially if it’s about me! You certainly don’t have to tell me everything! Not that I ask about everything, nope! I know when people want to be private. Yep! Private gal am I! Heck, I’m so private that I…” She trailed off, realizing what she was saying.
She withdrew her hand, sitting back again, a small hoping expression on her face. “You know what I mean, right?”
Tara nodded, one of the half smiles that warmed Willow’s heart appearing on her face, “I-I think so.”
Willow sighed, “Oh, good.” She hid her burgeoning blush behind her mocha, taking a sip to calm herself.
Suddenly, Tara began to giggle.
Willow looked up, surprised, staring at how relaxed the other girl looked. “Oh great,” she dropped her head, “Now you’re laughing at me.”
“W-Willow, I’m not l-laughing at you. Please l-look up,” Tara said gently, and she reached out her hand to brush soft fingers against Willow’s hand. “I-I just said that I w-wanted to talk to get you here. I k-knew that you’d been really b-busy lately, so I w-wanted you to relax before c-class. T-that’s all.”
“Really?” Willow asked hopefully, looking up, her hand tingling.
Tara nodded.
“Okay. Then why were you frowning?”
Tara’s answer was simple. She looked straight into Willow’s eyes, her expression serious: “Because you’re hurt.”
Willow stared at her. She couldn’t lie. Not to Tara. It would just feel so wrong. “How… How did you know?”
“Your aura. W-What happened? Patrol?”
Willow looked into Tara’s deep blue eyes, overwhelmed by all of the care that she saw in their depths. Her thoughts were racing. Her aura? But she didn’t feel any pain. How would it affect her aura? She frowned. Unless… Unless the demon really had pumped something into her veins.
“Tara,” she said suddenly.
“Y-yes?”
“I need your help.”
* * *
Tara helped Willow remove her sweater, folding it and placing it onto her bed, both of them safely hidden away in Tara’s dorm room. Using gentle hands, she removed the bandage Willow had wrapped around herself. The breath caught in her throat. “Oh Willow…” she murmured, reaching out one hand to stroke the pale skin next to the bite mark. Her heart felt pain at seeing the girl she loved hurt so badly. “You say that this doesn’t hurt?”
Alone with the redhead, Tara felt comfortable enough that she lost her stutter. It was only when she was surrounded by people that she didn’t have control over her voice. It was uncomfortable. However, with Willow at her side, Tara always felt so calm and special. She concentrated on her again.
Tara tried not to look at Willow standing there in only her bra. But it was really hard. So much skin – pale and dotted with endearing freckles, especially on her shoulders – was offered to her. She tried to convince herself that it wasn’t any different than seeing Willow in a bathing suit, which she had seen, but something still taunted her with the fact that it was underwear. It was somehow more private. She tried, knowing that Willow would run screaming if she messed up. But Willow just looked so cute, hot, attractive -- exposed. To her credit though, the object of her thoughts didn’t seem to be that self-conscious, still holding her arms up for a second before letting them fall loosely at her sides.
“It doesn’t,” Willow nodded, a chagrined smile on her lips as she turned her head to look at her. “Strange, huh?” She, herself, looked uncomfortable with her admission. “Instead, I’ve been so full of energy. I was gonna run to your room this morning, actually, before I remembered that we were meeting at the Espresso Pump.”
Tara blinked. Willow usually wasn’t one to indulge in athletics. Nor herself, really. They got enough exercise from when they accompanied Buffy on patrol. “Do you know what kind of demon it was?” Tara turned away, gathering herbs and spices and other ingredients that she knew would help heal the wound faster and prevent much scarring.
Willow shook her head. “Nope. We’re going to be research buddies at Giles’ house later today, when Buffy and I get out of class. You want to come along?”
Tara tried not to read into her hopeful grin, but it was hard not to. The way Willow was looking at her, she was sure that… No. She had had Oz. As far as she knew, Willow had never expressed interest in women before.
She shook her head, feeling guilty. “I can’t. I have an essay due tomorrow.” As Willow’s face started to look disappointed, she added awkwardly, “I’m sorry, but…”
“No! That’s okay. Really. Class is important. Really. It is. You know me. Education gal!” Willow thrust her fist into the air.
But not as important as helping you! Tara wanted to protest. If she didn’t have to have good grades to keep her scholarship, she would gladly go and help find information. She hated how she couldn’t be around Willow all the time. Couldn’t kiss her, hold her… She hadn’t even gotten up the courage to hug her fiery goddess goodbye if Willow didn’t insist on one. And if she did without Willow prompting one, wouldn’t that seem so uncharacteristic of Tara?
Not for the first time, Tara wished she could be so much stronger.
Shaking her head, she reached out and tucked a red bang behind Willow’s ear before she realized what she was doing. In the process, the redhead looked up, the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen meeting Tara’s gaze.
Willow pressed into her touch. Thinking that she was trembling, Tara was surprised to realize that it was her hand that was the one quivering. Willow’s skin just felt so warm and soft. It called to her. Her gaze dropped to Willow’s mouth when she sighed, and she unconsciously licked her own. Her mouth felt so dry. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest, her hand, her head.
As if in slow motion, Willow raised her right arm and slid it around Tara’s waist, tugging her forward. Already close to the redhead, Tara now realized that she could feel Willow’s breath combining with her own, skittering across her cheeks and mouth. Heat radiated out from her bare skin, and Tara found that she yearned to feel that heat against her.
The area surrounding them was charged, loaded. Willow’s gaze held her own; she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. Something lurked deep inside those green eyes, something that drew her in.
And, before Tara could react, Willow had grabbed the back of her neck and urged her forward, kissing her deeply.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Edited by: WildLonelyNeko at: 8/27/04 8:54 pm
I say more.
Mister Dancing Banana asks for a quick update, and so do I. 
. Love sam xx 
Tiny dancing dudes also enjoy your story and hope for an update soon. Tiny dancing dude and I have alot in common. Except me not being tiny (by most standards) or dancing or even a dude. Hee