Okay, double posting here because I've finished my challenge fic. And I'm feeling bold. So what if it has holes in it the size of Missouri? I don't care!
Read. Enjoy. Feel free to ask for a continuation on obsidian...heh heh...
Just a few notes: There is some stereotyping in this that some lesbians may find offensive. I, however, find it mildly amusing.
Just a few notes (2): DIY stands for Do It Yourself. It's a thing we Brits have goin' on with tools and flatpack bookshelves that always have a part missing, no matter how hard you try to...uh, okay. But DIY is also a slang term for um...
pleasuring oneself. Just in case it didn't translate across the Atlantic, or anywhere else.
HOW TO GET AHEAD IN BED MENDING“I just don’t see why you have to do this. I mean, don’t they have men for that kind of thing?” Tara picked her way through the debris of bedding that was lying strewn on the floor and sat gingerly on the edge of the old sofa at the side of the tiny, dusty and rather unkempt room.
Willow turned from her position, crouched by the side of the Murphy bed that was looking a little worse for wear. She met Tara’s eyes and frowned slightly, eliciting a helpless gaze from the blonde. Sometimes, she told herself, she had to remember that Tara wasn’t the most adept person at mending things. In fact, the redhead thought, returning to her work, Tara was pretty clumsy at the best of times. There were three broken china figurines to prove that, although Tara had blamed an over enthusiastic Miss Kitty. But Willow knew the truth; a tiny smile curved the corners of her mouth. Tara’s clumsiness was so cute, even if it was proving expensive for her figurine collection.
When Faith had got out of prison (released early for good behaviour, which had not only mystified everyone but made them laugh as well) she had set course for her hometown of Boston. An invitation to come and visit had been taken less seriously by the rest of the Scoobies than by Willow and Tara. Tara had been kind enough to offer Faith a hand of friendship, although Willow had been kind of surprised at first. But, she sighed to herself, reaching for a socket wrench on the floor beside her, Tara had that way of persuading someone to do things they wouldn’t normally do. And that didn’t
just include offering the hand of friendship, Willow smiled again, a memory bringing a slight blush behind her ears.
“I..I mean don’t they have bed repair men?” Tara broke the silence, leaning forward on the sofa and pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
Willow turned again to look at her girlfriend. “Honey, they
do have bed repair men, yes, that’s true. But what’s the point in spending money that Faith doesn’t have to get someone to come and do what’s really quite easy?”
“Says you,” a voice reached them from the hallway as Faith appeared, leaning against the doorframe leading into the bed/sitting room. She nodded towards Willow and shrugged slightly, folding her arms across her chest. “So what’s the deal with the bed, Red?” she grinned widely at her own rhyme.
Willow turned back to the bed, putting her hand on the metal frame and wobbling it slightly. She didn’t have a clue what was wrong with it. Only that the bed wouldn’t fold back into its cupboard and one of the legs wasn’t quite touching the floor.
“Uh…I think it has a loose fitting somewhere. Or it’s missing a screw.” Willow said, biting her lip thoughtfully as she surveyed the frame carefully in that ‘workman’ way she’d seen so often before. Usually that tended to imply knowledge, and often inspired confidence.
Some hope, she thought vaguely.
“Missing a screw?” Faith echoed as she made her way over to where Tara sat, dropping easily down onto the sofa beside the blonde. She flashed a crooked smile across to Tara, “In that case, the bed has my complete sympathy; I know just how
that feels.”
Tara flushed red and shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, looking across to Willow, who frowned at Faith before turning back to the bed again.
“Faith, just how
did the bed get broken?” the redhead asked, turning to a huge toolbox on the floor next to her. She rummaged inside it for a second, before pulling out a hammer, holding it in her hand, feeling the weight of it. She closed her fingers around the rubber handle and gripped tightly. It felt good, resting in her hand. Really good. The tip of her tongue crept out and wet her lips for a second.
Later, she told herself. Bed mending now.
“You know what Red, I don’t know,” Faith leant back on the sofa and laid her arms along the back of it. “It was like that when I got here, I swear. I mean, this place ain’t no Ritz, that’s for sure.” She looked around the tiny place that was all she had been able to afford. It was definitely kind of crappy. Well, Faith thought, maybe not even good enough to be crappy.
“It’s fine,” Tara said, drawing the Slayer’s gaze onto her, and blushing for her pains. “I mean, it will be, once you get the uh…” she glanced over to where Willow was, “the b-bed sorted out.” She smoothed her hands down over her plaid skirt and looked down at her knees.
“Yeah well, once I get the bed sorted out, maybe I can get me sorted out as well,” Faith grinned lasciviously, realising that her efforts to make Tara blush had succeeded.
“Faith.” Willow’s voice came to them from the floor where she now lay under the bed, looking up at the frame from below. “I know what you’re implying. Don’t.”
“Who, me?” Faith stood up and walked over to where Willow lay, tongue slightly sticking out from between her lips as she lifted the hammer and tentatively tapped at the frame. The Slayer looked down, realising for the first time how attractive Willow was when she was concentrating. “Need a hand, Red?”
“No, I think I’ve got it.” Willow grunted, tapping again at the frame, the metal clang echoing through the room. She slid out from underneath the bed and reached for the toolbox again, her face serious. “See, what’s happened is that the bed has slipped off its couplings; I need to take out a few screws,” she reached for a huge screwdriver, “and put it back on its coupling, then screw these in tight again.” She glanced up at Faith, “Simple really.”
“If you say so,” Faith tried to see what Willow was talking about but failed to get it. “How did you get so butch all of a sudden?” she asked, a tiny smile playing around the corners of her mouth.
“What’s the matter, jealous?” Willow grinned, blowing a piece of hair away from her forehead and bending down to fiddle with the bed frame again.
Tara was met with the sight of Willow’s jean clad rear staring her in the face. For a minute or two, she found that she was unable to look at much else. Then, starting herself out of her reverie, she stood up. “Can I help?”
“Can you give me a screw?” Willow asked, “A big one?”
Tara met Faith’s eyes and they stifled their giggles. A sigh of desperation came from Willow’s direction. “If you two are going to be silly about it…”
“No honey, I’m sorry,” Tara’s tone was suitably chastised as she bent down over the toolbox. “Where are they?”
“Uh, in the little drawer at the top. And I’ll need the ratchet as well. And uh, maybe a monkey wrench.” Willow said, her tone brisk and businesslike. For some reason, Tara felt her face grow hot as she searched for the items, quite unsure of what it was she was looking for.
Sliding under the bed, Willow lay on her stomach and crawled towards the rear of the frame. The bed hinges rested in two metal sockets, and the frame had become detached. All she needed to do was take out the existing screws, move the frame into the sockets and then screw back in again. Easy, she thought to herself, flushing with what she was sure could be racked up to ‘lesbo street cred’.
She fitted the wrench around one of the nuts and pulled, puffing out her cheeks with the effort. Finally it began to give and she loosened it easily, reaching for the screw it held in. The metal fell into her hand and she removed it. A tiny bead of sweat worked its way down her forehead as she pulled at the nut on the other side of the frame.
“Dammit, I need something else,” she muttered, “Tara, can you get me the pliers? I think I need more purchase on this nut.”
Tara almost swooned with the technical talk, and reached a hand that was surely trembling by now into the toolbox. She remembered a certain time when all Willow had had to do was talk about vectors on a computer program and she’d been lost in a lustful outpouring of emotion. She made a mental note to get Willow to explain tools to her in more detail later, when they were alone. Damn the vectors; big screws and monkey wrenches were
way more interesting.
“Okay, that should do it,” Willow said, sliding out from underneath the bed. As she stood up, her face was flushed, a sheen of sweat shining on her forehead. She rubbed a hand across it, leaving a streak of dirt just below her hairline. Her clothes were covered with dust that had been underneath the bed for months, most likely. Letting out a breath, she noticed both Tara and Faith staring at her.
“What?” she asked, mystified, her gaze going from one to the other.
Both girls looked at Willow, standing in front of them, her casual shirt and jeans covered in grime; her face streaked with dirt; the pliers shoved into her jeans pocket and the monkey wrench in her hand. Then they looked at each other, realising that they’d been thinking exactly the same thing. It was a really good look for the redhead. A really,
really good look. The kind of look that elicited thoughts of the kind that Faith had only ever had late at night in the prison cell; and the kind that Tara had only ever had late at night in bed with Willow. Tara blushed. Faith coughed, looking away reluctantly.
Willow shook her head, unable to see what they saw. “Faith, can you just lift the bed a bit and we’ll see if we can’t jiggle it back onto the couplings somehow.”
“Lift the bed?” Faith asked, her eyebrows rising slightly.
“Yeah, well, what with your Slayer strength and all.” Willow said.
“Jiggle?” Tara said.
Willow turned to her and flashed her a brilliant smile, “Yeah, jiggle.”
Tara blushed again, her mind still on those thoughts that had not quite left her head yet.
Faith put her hands underneath the bed frame and lifted slightly, grunting with the effort. Sure enough, Willow helped to jiggle the frame until, with a snapping sound, the struts clicked into the metal sockets. Faith let the bed drop to the floor and brushed off her hands. “Nice goin’, tool girl,” nodded her head in appreciation. “Guess I get to give the bed a test run after all then?” she grinned wickedly at Tara, “Unless you two wanna do the honours for me?”
A wry smile on her face, Willow slid back under the bed, the pliers, monkey wrench and new, big screws in her fist. She began slipping the screw into the hole, aligning them up so that the fastening would be firm. The only sound was metal on metal, and some heavy breathing from Tara as she watched.
The blonde bent down over the toolbox that Willow had told her was her pride and joy. Ever since the redhead had mended her computer; then the Buffybot, it seemed like she was taking pride in becoming a regular handy girl. Handy girl, Tara sighed to herself.
Very handy. She smiled as she rummaged in the toolbox. Willow had gotten quite protective about this stupid box, like she had the crown jewels in it or something. On the way to visit Faith, she’d insisted on carrying it with her instead of stowing it in the luggage hold. Odd. But Willow had just muttered something about valuable personal items. Tara had guessed she meant the tools; that maybe she had inherited them from her father. Which was weird, because Mr Rosenberg wasn't really into DIY at all. Not like Willow was, anyway.
Tara’s hand closed over something she assumed was the right thing. It was long and solid, with an odd-shaped handle at one end. What she knew about tools she could write on a postage stamp, she thought to herself.
“And what does this do?” she held it up as Willow turned her head round to look.
Faith glanced down, instantly covering her mouth and making strangled noises that Tara assumed was laughter. She frowned, looking down again at the object in her hand. “Is it a tool?” she asked innocently.
Willow gulped, her face turning puce. “Uh…kinda.” She didn’t dare look up at Faith.
“So what does it do?” Tara asked again.
“Um…how about I finish this, and then I’ll show you later what it does, ok?” Willow turned back to her bed mending, realising that it was going to be a long night.
Tara nodded, replacing the tool (or whatever it was) back into the box. Then her eyes alighted on something else, down at the bottom of the tool case. She frowned, her gaze flickering between the objects and the figure of Willow, fiercely tightening the nut on the screw, her knuckles white as she gripped the wrench.
“Willow,” Tara’s voice was trembling slightly as more than one thing began to make sense to her. “Why have you brought your high heeled leather boots with you?”
THE END------------------
"She looked across at Willow, whose face was filled with light. She had never felt so calm and happy, and strong..." ~ Unseen: Door To Alternity
