Infinitely(Sequel to Inevitable)[Ongoing - July 8th 2026]

[taranwillow4ever]

DIBS



This was a very sweet episode. Thanks for not putting Buffy in mortal danger. Looking forward to hearing how the program went for the kids.

Thanks for writing.

[TheBigPineapple99]

I'm glad everyone is enjoying the trip to the big city! I've been a bit too busy to post responses lately, in part because of my own move to the city, but I like the way you're including storylines for characters besides Willow and Tara as well. I love our girls as well, but their friendships with others has always been one of the things I've really enjoyed from the show too, so it's been really nice to see! I've also enjoyed reading about their experience with New York while newly experiencing it myself, so the timing has also been great!

[Laragh]

taranwillow4ever —

DIBS

This was a very sweet episode. Thanks for not putting Buffy in mortal danger. Looking forward to hearing how the program went for the kids.

No vamps for Buffy, just gold ol bad boys!

Thanks for writing.

Thanks for commenting!

TheBigPineapple99 —

I’m glad everyone is enjoying the trip to the big city! I’ve been a bit too busy to post responses lately, in part because of my own move to the city, but I like the way you’re including storylines for characters besides Willow and Tara as well. I love our girls as well, but their friendships with others has always been one of the things I’ve really enjoyed from the show too, so it’s been really nice to see!

It’s always an interesting balance to let W/T be the main but still allow side storylines to develop! I’m glad you’re enjoying it!

I’ve also enjoyed reading about their experience with New York while newly experiencing it myself, so the timing has also been great!

I hope you have an absolutely amazing time!!!!

Thanks so much for your feedback!

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Update Directly Below

[Laragh]

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Finding Your People

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And I’m Marching On To The Beat I Drum
I’m Not Scared To Be Seen
I Make No Apologies, This Is Me

By the time Willow and Tara reached the Courant Institute building, Willow had craned her neck upward three separate times like she expected the words Future Genius Convention to appear glowing across the front of it.


“It still sounds fake,” she said as they crossed the lobby. “Math camp at NYU when you’re twelve! That’s the plot of an inspirational coming-of-age movie. I wonder if we could sell the rights to Hollywood. I couldn’t sell my own rights. Always last to get the punchline. Left alone to think at lunchtime.”


“Got early admission to her dream school and every safety school she applied to…” Tara intoned in a soft sing-song voice.


Willow blushed and smiled softly.


“Abandoned it all for the girl of my dreams. Now there’s my true Hollywood story.”


Tara’s eyes creased affectionately, and she sighed as they walked through the glass doors.


“It feels a lot better picking her up than dropping her off.”


“Definitely less…fraught,” Willow agreed. “Look at this place! It’s like I can smell the mathematics being solved!”


As they closed behind them, the muted hum of Mercer Street was left outside for the bustle of the building. Even in the middle of the day during summer, there was an intensity to the place, as if every classroom and office contained someone trying to solve a problem nobody had solved before. Students of varying ages drifted through in loose clusters, and purple NYU banners and signs pointed toward lecture halls, elevators, and offices in every corner.


A security desk stood near the entrance, its monitors glowing quietly while visitors checked in and students flashed ID cards without breaking stride. They got visitor badges, which they clipped proudly on their belt loops.


Beyond the lobby, broad hallways branched toward classrooms and seminar rooms. Bulletin boards were crowded with flyers for research talks, programming workshops, mathematics colloquia, and graduate student events. Elevators opened and closed constantly, carrying professors, researchers, and students to the upper floors where offices and research groups were tucked away. Snatches of conversation floated through the air: fragments of code, equations, machine learning models, deadlines, proofs. Everywhere, there was a sense of people thinking hard about complicated things.


It smelled faintly of coffee, paper, and the recycled air of a building that never truly slept. Tara guessed this was the smell of math and noted it was very reminiscent of what Willow smelled like after a day of labs.


She smiled to herself as they approached the elevators and pressed the button to the floor Sally had told them she was on. Sally had kept in touch, but honestly seemed so busy that some days they only got a cursory text at bedtime.


Now, though, Tara could already hear familiar voices echoing down the hallway before the elevator doors had even fully opened.


“THEY’RE HERE!”


A blur in mismatched socks and an oversized Courant t-shirt came hurtling toward them. Azalea screeched to a stop at the last possible second, arms pinwheeling for balance before she caught herself against the wall.


“Hi,” she said, breathless, then, with complete seriousness. “Okay. We’ve organized the afternoon chronologically and intellectually.”


Willow blinked.


“I’m sorry?”


Sally appeared behind her, already changed out of her camp shirt and looking significantly more composed.


“She means we planned a route.”


Az nodded.


“Efficiency matters. We learned that here. I already knew, but now I REALLY know!”


Tara barely had time to open her arms before Sally stepped into the hug. Tara held her tightly, immediately noticing two things at once: Sally smelled faintly like the scented marker set Willow had gifted her, and somehow, in only three weeks, she seemed older.


“Hey, sweetheart.”


“Hi.”


Sally leaned against her for an extra second before pulling away with a practiced sort of casualness, like she was trying to remember she was twelve and sophisticated now.


Az pointed dramatically down the hallway.


“Tour first. Emotional reunion second.”


“I just gave my sister a hug,” Sally argued.


“That was a preliminary emotional reunion,” Az argued back, pointing again. “We made plans! You were there! You made most of them.”


Sally glanced at Willow and Tara and sighed.


“We did make plans.”


Willow grinned.


“Lead the way.”


The floor buzzed with end-of-camp energy. Students hauled suitcases down corridors while parents lingered awkwardly near whiteboards filled with equations none of them could understand. Every available surface seemed covered in notes, symbols, or half-finished proofs.


Willow looked ready to ascend into another plane of existence.


“Oh my god,” she whispered reverently. “This is incredible.”


Tara smiled fondly.


“You’re acting as if we brought you to Disney World.”


“Disney World can kick rocks,” Willow replied in awe.


“Along with Goofy!” Sally agreed with a curt nod.


“You still never told me what happened with, um, him,” Tara said with a somewhat concerned crease in her brow.


Sally’s eyes narrowed almost cartoonishly.


“He knows. He knows.”


Az immediately latched onto Willow’s enthusiasm and pulled on her sleeve.


“Okay, come here, this room was for combinatorics lectures, and over there is where Sally annihilated a high school senior from Massachusetts.”


Sally groaned.


“Can you stop saying annihilated? It makes me sound like the Terminator.”


“He deserved it,” Az said as she lifted her nose defiantly.


“He was, like, sixteen,” Sally replied, shaking her head. “I think being beaten by a twelve-year-old girl broke his brain a little.”


Az huffed.


“He was condescending.”


“That’s true,” Sally admitted, leaning into Tara for affection while trying to seem like she wasn’t. “Az thought every competition was like a West Side Story-style turf war. I also learned what West Side Story is because she puts it on to sleep every night.”


She paused.


“I thought of you every time I heard ‘I Feel Pretty.’ Especially the ‘pretty and witty and gay’ part.”


“That’s very sweet,” Tara whispered back.


Az spun around dramatically as they entered a classroom covered wall to wall with whiteboards.


“This,” she announced. “Was the site of my greatest triumph.”


“There are like six possible stories that could be,” Sally muttered.


Az puffed her chest proudly.


“I solved a problem none of the counselors could solve.”


Sally grinned.


“You also accidentally locked yourself in the study lounge for two hours afterward.”


Az waved a hand.


“That was a separate triumph. It was the only free time I got to update my fanfiction.”


Tara laughed as Willow wandered toward one of the whiteboards covered in formulas. She traced her fingers just above the marker lines without touching them, eyes bright.


“You guys worked all this out?”


Sally nodded, suddenly animated in a way she’d only begun to express since coming to live with Willow and Tara.


“This one was from team rounds,” she explained, stepping beside Willow. “The trick was realizing everybody else was approaching it geometrically when it worked way better algebraically.”


Az grabbed a marker off the tray beneath the board.


“No, no, the real trick was reimagining the framework entirely.”


“You say that about everything,” Sally scoffed.


“Because everything benefits from framework reimagining,” Az said as she immediately started sketching wildly across an empty section of the board while talking at approximately triple normal speaking speed. “So if you stop thinking linearly and instead treat the variables like relational clusters–”


“She talks like this all the time now,” Sally told Willow quietly.


“And you understand her?” Willow asked with a raised eyebrow, because honestly, she only barely did.


Sally nodded slowly.


“Sadly, yes.”


Tara watched the two girls argue enthusiastically over equations that even Willow didn’t entirely follow.


She didn’t have the context, she told herself.


What struck Tara most wasn’t how smart they were. Tara already knew Sally was smart. Sometimes, she even suspected Sally was smarter than Willow, though she’d never say that aloud. But what really got her attention was how comfortable she looked.


Sally had spent so much of her life trying not to take up space. Trying not to sound too excited about things. Trying not to be ‘too much’ or ‘too noticed’ because being noticed meant being persecuted.


Here, surrounded by kids who debated number theory recreationally, she looked completely at ease, not just with the numbers but with herself.


Az finally capped the marker triumphantly.


“And that is why symmetry is basically emotional.”


Willow stared at the board for a long moment.


“You know,” she said slowly. “I think I get that. At least 40% anyway.”


Az beamed.


“That’s honestly above average.”


Willow seemed a little affronted at that. Tara wrapped an arm around her waist.


“Don’t worry, honey. I know you’re extraordinary.”


Willow smiled and kissed Tara’s cheek. Sally rolled her eyes.


“Didn’t miss that.”


The tour continued through dorm lounges, lecture halls, cafeterias, and study rooms occupied by exhausted campers sprawled across beanbags with notebooks balanced on their knees.


Every few feet, one of the girls stopped to explain another story.


“That vending machine stole Az’s money four separate times.”


“It targeted me specifically,” Az nodded sagely, before pointing in another direction. “Sally stayed up until three a.m., proving a counselor wrong in that room.”


“He said it couldn’t be solved elegantly,” Sally argued. “I showed him I have elegance up my butt!”


Az dragged them into the student lounge, where several campers were saying emotional goodbyes.


A tall boy waved from across the room.


“Hey, Sally!”


Sally waved back.


“Hey, Tray!”


“You still sending the proof?” he asked, giving her finger guns.


“After we get home!” Sally promised. “I want to look over it one more time.”


The boy gave her the thumbs up and pointed accusingly at Az.


“And you still owe me twenty bucks!”


Az gasped.


“That bet was made under emotional duress.”


Tray arched an eyebrow.


“YOU LOST.”


She waved dismissively.


“Details.”


As they moved on, Willow leaned toward Tara.


“They have little math camp social lives.”


“I know,” Tara smiled back.


“It’s adorable,” Willow grinned. “Was band camp like this?”


Tara’s eyes widened.


“I sincerely hope this was nothing like band camp.”


By the time they finally collected luggage and headed outside, both girls were talking over each other at full speed.


“And then on Saturday, we went to Chinatown. This kid from Topeka didn’t know how to use chopsticks, and Sally tried to convince him you used your nose–”


“And Washington Square Park had this guy playing jazz on upside-down buckets–”


“And we saw a pigeon steal an entire hot dog–”


“I swear I heard him say ‘I’m eating over here’,” Sally said seriously. “Then we went to the Strand bookstore and Az bought six books.”


“They were necessary,” Azalea nodded.


Sally’s brow lifted.


“One of them was literally called Topology for Fun.”


Azalea grinned as she skipped ahead.


“It WAS fun.”


Willow looked deeply impressed by this and shot Tara a look.


“You know, we walk right past it on the way back…”


Tara was unable to deny her love anything.


“Should we stop on the way to check it out?”


It was the least she could give back after Willow’s wonderful morning.


“YAY!” Azalea started to run ahead, only slowed down by the bag bouncing on its wheels behind her.


Willow had to speed up to keep up with her, but it wasn’t really a hardship as her excitement was close to the same level.


The giant red awning stretched across the corner storefront like some kind of holy site.


“Eighteen miles of books,” Willow whispered in awe.


Tara laughed through a labored breath.


“Why does that sound like our credit card is about to be raided?”


The four of them crossed with the crowd as taxis surged past in noisy yellow blurs.


The second the bookstore doors opened, cool air and the smell of old books wrapped around them.


Willow froze.


Not metaphorically, she actually stopped moving mid-step.


“Oh,” she breathed.


Az looked smug.


“That was basically my reaction too.”


Willow turned in a slow circle beneath the handwritten recommendation signs and towering shelves.


“I need everyone to understand that if you lose me in here, I live here now. I don’t need to be rescued.”


“You can’t legally abandon us for a bookstore,” Tara said with an amused smile.


“Can’t I?” Willow asked, for one of the rare times her affection was being pulled somewhere other than Tara. “I mean, I won’t but…”


Az had already wandered ten feet away toward a calculus display table titled: ‘Mathematics: Nature’s Beauty’.


“Found my people,” she announced.


Sally immediately followed after her while Tara and Willow drifted more slowly through the front section.


The store felt alive in a way only old bookstores did. Narrow aisles twisted unexpectedly into tiny alcoves. Shelves stretched so high they required rolling ladders. Every available space overflowed with stacked books and handwritten staff notes.


Willow picked up a copy of Gödel, Escher, Bach and smiled immediately.


“Oh, wow, I haven’t seen this edition in years.”


“You say that like you found a childhood friend,” Tara said gently, inviting Willow to explain at her own pace.


Willow lifted the book just under her nose and inhaled deeply. The smell of old books would only be overtaken by the newborn smell of her own children, but until then, it reigned supreme, as long as any smell belonging to Tara was taken out of the equation.


“I kind of did. It was my babysitter for a whole summer. First book to truly blow my mind.”


A few aisles over, Az had begun constructing a dangerously tall stack in her arms.


“You do not need six more books,” Sally told her.


Azalea nodded.


“You’re right. I need at least eight.”


Sally raised an eyebrow.


“You can’t even fit those in your suitcase.”


Az looked genuinely offended.


“I brought an empty duffel bag for a reason.”


“You planned for bookstore overflow?” Sally questioned, but regretted it almost immediately.


“I planned for all outcomes,” Azalea nodded seriously.


Sally shook her head and picked up another book.


“The Joy of x,” she read like she knew it was a pun but couldn’t quite figure out why.


Az snatched it immediately.


“OH, MY GOD.”


“That was not an endorsement!” Sally protested.


Azalea was already flicking through it.


“Too late.”


Willow appeared beside them like she’d been summoned psychically by the phrase.


“Oh! Steven Strogatz!” she pointed excitedly at the cover. “This book is amazing.”


Az looked delighted that an adult understood what she was talking about.


For the next several minutes, the two of them disappeared into rapid-fire discussion while Sally and Tara watched with helpless amusement.


“…because recreational math is really about curiosity more than difficulty-”


“Exactly! And people think math has to be rigid when actually the fun part is experimentation-”


“And puzzles!”


“And paradoxes!”


“And impossible geometry!”


Tara leaned toward Sally quietly, realizing something.


“They’re the same person.”


“Little and large,” Sally muttered back. “I didn’t realize it ‘til just now.”


“Me either,” Tara replied and didn’t think Willow would be too grateful for the comparison.


Though she thought Sally was correct about a few things she’d mentioned over the three weeks: Azalea was ‘calmer’, just still in her unique, high-energy kind of way.


Her wildness was now confidence, and with that, she seemed better able to control it. Before, she might have been pacing in circles around the room while having three conversations at once. Now, while still overflowing with excitement and energy, it was focused on the topic at hand, and her body moved with her, not twitching inordinately like it didn’t know where to go.


Tara wasn’t sure exactly what had changed. Az was still Az. Still energetic, still excited. But that energy seemed focused now, and happier in the process.


Eventually, the girls dragged them upstairs, where the rare books floor sat quieter and dimmer than the bustling main level below.


While Tara was tempted by a section of artist biographies, Sally slowed near a shelf of antique mathematics texts displayed behind glass.


“Look at this. They wouldn’t let us get too close when we came here before. There was a grabby guy from Greensboro.”


Even Az lowered her voice instinctively.


One enormous leather-bound volume sat open beneath soft lights, pages yellowed with age and covered in delicate handwritten notation.


Willow stepped closer carefully.


“People figured all this stuff out without computers,” she murmured, sounding genuinely awed. “Just… brains and stubbornness.”


Az scrunched her nose and grinned.


“Hardcore.”


Tara glanced over and smiled at the three of them standing there shoulder-to-shoulder, staring at centuries-old equations like museum artifacts.


There was something oddly emotional about it.


Downstairs again, they eventually migrated toward the fiction section. Az immediately became distracted by science fiction covers, Sally wandered toward fantasy, and Willow disappeared entirely.


Tara found her twenty minutes later, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside a lower shelf, reading the first page of a used novel.


“You got distracted.”


Willow looked up sheepishly.


“I’m book shopping.”


“You’re actively reading,” Tara replied, bending down so they were eye-level.


Willow turned her nose up indignantly.


“Those are related activities.”


Tara smiled and offered her a hand up.


By the time they reached the checkout counter, Az’s stack had become genuinely alarming.


The cashier raised an eyebrow.


“Starting a library?”


“She kind of already has one,” Sally said.


Az carefully placed another book onto the pile at the last second.


“Okay, but this one was fifty percent off.”


“You said that about the last four,” Sally shook her head, but with affection. “You can’t keep using math as a justification for more books.”


Azalea looked at Sally like she was crazy.


“I can use math as a justification for EVERYTHING!”


Willow’s purchases weren’t much better.


Tara stared at the total while Willow avoided eye contact.


“We can never come back here,” Tara informed her.


“Yes, we can,” Willow argued defensively.


Tara raised an eyebrow.


“No, because you’ll bankrupt us.”


Willow grinned.


“It’ll be worth it. We can decorate a cute box to live in. You did tell me you’d follow me anywhere…”


Tara just raised an eyebrow.


Outside again, the late afternoon sun painted the sidewalks gold and cast a golden glimmer over each of them.


Az hugged her paper shopping bags to her chest like treasure.


“I’m genuinely happier than I’ve ever been.”


“You say that every fifteen minutes,” Sally pointed out.


Az just skipped ahead.


“Yes, but this time I’m holding calculus, which is basically my bible, so you know I really mean it.”


Willow laughed so hard a small wheeze came out, and they had to stop for a water break.


After leaving all of the bags and luggage back in the hotel room, which the girls seemed excited about despite it not being all that different from a dorm room, they headed toward the theater district.


The streets buzzed with tourists and traffic and neon signs beginning to glow against the darkening sky. Tara had suggested lunch, but apparently, Willow had pre-ordered special snacks and drinks to have during the show, so they each just grabbed a pretzel to eat on the way.


Sally walked between Willow and Tara while Az zigzagged unpredictably around them like an excitable satellite, but notably, she never went out of their sight, and it was less chaotic than both Willow and Tara were expecting with her.


“Why does it smell like pee everywhere anyway? I kept asking, but no one would answer me.”


The questions, however, were as inquisitive as ever.


Sally rolled her eyes.


“It’s not pee, it’s weed,” she said as if she hadn’t just been informed of that a day or two ago herself by an older kid.


Willow and Tara exchanged alarmed looks.


“Let’s stick with pee,” Willow said as she brought her hand down on Sally’s shoulder.


They did not need Azalea’s mom hounding them for informing her daughter that.


It was odd enough that they hadn’t had their phones blow up already from her.


“My mom says the poppies outside our house are like weeds,” Azalea replied, rather naïve for a girl who was so smart.


“Nuh uh, it’s like…dandelions, I guess?” Sally continued with undue confidence. “And people put them in like…brownies and stuff?”


The older kid hadn’t been very explicit.


This time, the looks Willow and Tara shot each other were a mix of relief and slight amusement.


“I don’t know why anyone would want to eat them, though!” Sally shook her head like she had the wisdom of the universe in her brain.


“Yeah, no…no idea,” Willow said, clearing her throat silently and checking her watch. “Hey, um, we need to hurry up a bit.”


“We’re not late, are we?” Tara asked as they picked up pace.


Willow put her hand on Tara’s back and gently pushed her forward.


“Just, um…come on.”


As they turned into Times Square, Willow suddenly stopped them all.


“Here! Hang on a minute.”


They all stopped, but the kids got antsy quickly and were distracted by all the hubbub.


“Willow, what’s going on?” Tara asked when Willow continued, just looking up.


“Just…one minute!” Willow replied in frustration.


The other three exchanged confused looks while the minute passed until Willow started jumping up and down, pointedly excited.


“There, there! Look! Quick!”


There, in the middle of Times Square, a giant billboard displayed a picture of Azalea and Sally beneath a large banner that said ‘Well Done!’


Azalea grabbed Sally, and they shared in shock before looking at each other and jumping up and down, screaming.


Tara looked at Willow in utter surprise.


“How the hell did you organize that?”


“I got a few tricks up my sleeve,” Willow grinned back, then scrunched her nose sheepishly. “It’s surprisingly cheap to rent a billboard for a minute. I just thought it might be something they didn’t do already. I booked it three weeks ago and spent the last two days panicking we’d miss the time slot.”


Tara wanted to sweep Willow up right there and then, but settled for putting their hands together and squeezing tightly.


The billboard was all Sally and Az could talk about as they made their way to the theater, figuring out who they could brag about it to and who looked best fifty feet in the air.


“There it is!” Willow pointed dramatically the second the Lyric Theatre came into view.


“You’re more excited than we are,” Sally said.


“Who wouldn’t be?” Willow replied breathlessly.


She stopped dead in front of the giant Harry Potter and the Cursed Child sign.


“Oh my god,” she whispered. “We’re actually here.”


Az tilted her head.


“I thought adulthood meant pretending not to care about things.”


Tara laughed.


“Not in this family.”


Inside the theater, Willow immediately collected her souvenir program, commemorative cup, and something involving a glowing golden snitch that Tara wasn’t sure had a purpose.


“It lights up,” Willow defended against the look she got.


“You say that like it explains anything,” Tara returned with a shake of her head.


“It explains everything,” Az said as she rolled her own snitch between her palms.


Willow just looked smug.


Their seats were incredible. Perfect view of the stage with no obstruction and leg room to boot. They each settled with their snacks around them, and Willow unwrapped her chocolate frog.


“These things are doing a lot to redeem the frog community,” she said through a mouthful of chocolate.


As the theater dimmed, Willow physically bounced once in her chair.


Tara leaned closer and rested her head on Willow’s shoulder.


The opening music began.


Willow went absolutely still. Tara wasn’t entirely sure whether she’d done that or the orchestra had.


For the next several hours, Willow reacted to every effect with complete sincerity and delight. She gasped at scene changes. She whispered theories. She clutched Tara’s arm every time stage magic happened.


At one point, an actor appeared to vanish in front of them.


Willow’s jaw dropped open.


“How?”


“Special effects,” Sally whispered.


“No,” Willow said firmly. “Wizardry.”


Sally rolled her eyes but appeared to be enjoying the show anyway.


By intermission, the girls were openly making fun of her.


Az sipped her (diet) soda thoughtfully.


“You know, statistically speaking, Willow is currently outperforming us in visible excitement.”


“By a lot,” Sally agreed.


Willow looked smug about this accusation.


“I’m embracing wonder.”


“You almost stood up during the duel scene,” Sally countered.


“I was being SUPPORTIVE!” Willow defended.


Tara laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink. She had missed this banter.


The second act somehow made Willow even more emotional.


By the curtain call, she was applauding with the intensity of someone personally invested in the continued success of theater as an art form and a force for good in the world.


“That,” she announced as they exited onto the street. “Was AMAZING.”


Tara bumped her shoulder gently.


“Better than you expected?”


“So much better,” Willow said, clutching her heart.


Az nodded seriously.


“The time-turner staging alone was worth detailed analysis.”


Willow immediately pointed at her.


“See? This is why I love you.”


Tara didn’t mention the names she’d called her just a couple of weeks ago in private.


Tribeca was quieter than Midtown by the time they arrived after a ride on the subway.


The city had settled into nighttime rhythms, storefront lights glowing warmly against the sidewalks. Willow spotted the Ghostbusters firehouse before anyone else.


“There!” she yelped.


She took off down the sidewalk with such enthusiasm that Tara actually stumbled back.


“She’s running.”


“She’s absolutely running,” Sally added, deadpan.


“It’s a historical landmark,” Willow called back defensively.


“It’s a garage door,” Sally called to her.


Willow stopped in front of the firehouse and stared upward with genuine joy.


The familiar red sign hung over the building exactly like every photograph and movie shot she’d ever seen. She’d been in New York more than once with her parents, but something like this had always been considered too frivolous for her to see. Ghostbusters had been one of the movies she and Xander and Jesse had watched together as kids, and her enjoyment of it had made her ‘one of the guys’ with them, a position important to her growing up.


Short of seeing an actual mermaid from her and Tara’s connection to The Little Mermaid, this was probably the most magical childhood artifact she could witness.


“Oh, wow.”


Az squinted critically.


“You know, architecturally speaking, it’s smaller than I expected.”


Willow glanced over at Az like she suddenly remembered all of those names.


“You are ruining this experience for me.”


“Surely spatial realism can only enhance it,” Az challenged.


Tara pulled out her phone quickly to diffuse.


“Okay, picture time.”


Willow immediately grabbed Sally and Az around the shoulders.


“No, wait, everybody has to look serious. Like we’re paranormal investigators.”


“Why can’t I have a normal sister?” Sally groaned automatically.


Tara smiled softly at the word even as Willow gasped dramatically.


“You called me your sister!”


Sally groaned.


“I take it back.”


“Nope,” Willow replied, popping the p. “Too late. Canon now.”


Az raised one hand solemnly.


“I believe in ghosts but only mathematically.”


Tara looked deeply confused, but that wasn’t unusual with their little family. She stepped in front of them and crouched down, lifting her phone high above her head.


“Everyone say Ghostbusters!”


The picture captured Willow and Az grinning with joy, Sally giving them side-eye, and Tara wearing her usual expression of polite bewilderment in the front.


Eventually, hunger drove them toward a tiny pizza place that was crowded but had a perfect booth for them by the window.


The smell hit them before they even got inside: cheese, garlic, warm dough, and grease.


“Now,” Willow announced as they slid into the booth. “THIS is the authentic New York experience.”


“We already had New York pizza,” Sally said, bored.


“Not with us, you didn’t!” Willow retorted, then glanced toward the entrance. “Oh, hey, Buffy! You found us!”


Buffy looked over at the sound of her name and waved, plenty of shopping bags shaking on her wrist.


Tara frowned just slightly. Money was already tight for the Summers family, which made the designer logos swinging from Buffy’s wrist difficult to ignore. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was part of her ‘going wild’. Still, it wasn’t her place to judge Buffy’s spending habits, and she quickly replaced her frown with a smile.


“Did you have a nice day, Buffy?”


Buffy lifted her sunglasses above her head and revealed weary eyes, but she did smile.


“I certainly experienced New York.”


The slices arrived, bigger than the paper plates they were served on.


Az stared at hers in awe.


“This is structurally unsound.”


“That’s part of the charm,” Willow said, expertly folding hers in half.


Sally copied her immediately.


Tara shook her head.


“Good god that’s a lot of pizza.”


Az took a massive bite and immediately hissed in pain.


“Hot-hot-hot-hot.”


“Slow down,” Sally laughed.


“Worth it,” Az mumbled through molten cheese.


The restaurant buzzed around them with overlapping conversations, clattering dishes, and music playing faintly somewhere near the kitchen.


Outside, taxis streaked past the windows in blurred yellow flashes. They decided to get one of those back to the hotel since they’d all done the subway already, plus it was another experience under their belt. Willow offered to grab a second cab for Buffy since they wouldn’t all fit in one, but she said she wanted to experience the energy of the city for as long as possible.


Arriving back at the hotel room, Sally looked exhausted.


Not unhappy or annoyed, just full of pizza and life.


Three weeks of learning, excitement, and independence sat softly around her shoulders.


With Azalea in the shower, Tara reached over and brushed a strand of hair back from Sally’s face.


“So,” she asked gently. “Was camp everything you hoped?”


Sally looked down at her lap for a second before a smile tugged at her mouth.


“More. There were people who actually understood what we were talking about.”


“There are people who understand what you’re talking about here, too,” Willow pointed out.


“Yeah, but usually after explanations and diagrams,” Sally replied with a soft shrug.


She leaned back against the bed.


“I didn’t feel weird here.”


That a year ago, they could barely convince her to attend her new school wasn’t lost on anyone.


The words landed quietly between them.


Tara’s chest tightened.


Because Sally wasn’t weird. Neither was Az. They were brilliant and passionate and enthusiastic and occasionally overwhelming in the way bright people often were.


But the world had a way of making girls like them feel like too much.


Willow reached across and squeezed Sally’s hand.


“You know,” she said softly. “Finding your people changes everything.”


Sally smiled a little wider.


“Also, we learned enough advanced math to become supervillains.”


“So you think you want to come to NYU to go to college?” Willow asked with an approving grin.


Sally surprised them both with the speed of her answer.


“Nah.”


Tara raised an eyebrow.


“You seemed like you really loved it.”


“I did,” Sally answered with a quick nod. “But it’s not my whole life like it is for Az. She should definitely come here. I don’t even know if I wanna go to college. And if I do, I don’t know if it’d be here. I’m only 12. I mean, I like math, but I don’t want it to be everything I do.”


Tara leaned in and kissed the side of Sally’s head.


“Yes, you are. You don’t have to know anything yet.”


Willow nodded quickly.


“If I were where I thought I would be at your age, I’d be married to Xander, and we’d still be holding weekly meetings of the I hate Cordelia club.”


Sally looked utterly befuddled.


“Huh?”


Willow blushed.


“Never mind. What I’m saying is, nothing is set in stone. The truth about life, kid, is that you never stop solving for x.”


Sally slowly nodded and smiled.


“Please don’t tell Az that. I have to sleep next to her all night.”


Willow and Tara laughed.


“We’re proud of you,” Tara said, squeezing Sally’s hand before standing. “And not because of what you’ve achieved. But because of who you are.”


Sally wrapped her arms around a pillow and buried her head into it for a moment before lifting her gaze.


“Can we play D&D when we get home?”


Willow nodded keenly.


“Yeah, I’ll talk to Fred and see if she wants to get a campaign going.”


“Cool,” Sally smiled.


“Cool,” Willow agreed.


Tara caught Willow’s eye and gave her a sly wink, which Willow returned.


Now the only problem was how the hell to get all those books into their luggage?

[taranwillow4ever]

The reunion with the girls definitely didn't disappoint. I am really enjoying this story. I hope you don't get discouraged by the lack of feedback. Thanks for writing.
Taranwillow4ever

[Laragh]

taranwillow4ever —

The reunion with the girls definitely didn't disappoint. I am really enjoying this story. I hope you don't get discouraged by the lack of feedback. Thanks for writing.

Thank you! Feedback is a tricky beast in an old fandom, I learned a long time ago you have to be satisfied by the work and any feedback is a joyous bonus!

Thanks so much for your comment

---

Update Directly Below

[Laragh]

---

Lifeboats

---

I Have Become
Comfortably Numb

Tara walked down the aisle of the plane, stretching her legs as they headed into the homestretch of the flight.


Willow was watching movies on the in-flight entertainment, Azalea and Sally were making use of the game system, and Buffy, who was sitting several rows back and whom Tara only caught glimpses of when she got up to stretch, seemed to be fast asleep, still sporting those perennial sunglasses.


Tara frowned, which seemed to be becoming a common occurrence around Willow’s friend lately. She hoped Buffy knew she could come to her, too. The girl seemed like she could use as many friends as she could get.


She walked to the end of the plane, used the restroom, and returned to her seat beside Willow. She had the aisle seat so she could keep an eye on the kids on the other side, who seemed to be acting a lot calmer on the return than the reports they heard of the way out.


She didn’t envy Juniper, Azalea’s mom, that journey at all. They’d definitely gotten the better end of the deal.


She closed her eyes to rest for a minute, and the next thing she knew, Willow was nudging her shoulder.


“Baby? We landed.”


Tara blinked the sleep from her eyes as she realized everyone around her was standing and retrieving their bags.


She looked at Willow and let out a soft breath.


“I didn’t even realize I fell asleep.”


Willow smiled sympathetically but glanced toward the aisle, reminding Tara they needed to move.


Unsnapping her belt, Tara retrieved her purse from under the seat and stepped into the aisle to help the kids. She wasn’t quite sure what time it was when they stepped off the plane, but found herself glad to see it was dark already. She hoped it would be easier to settle the kids despite the many mini-cans of soda they’d consumed with the tiny bags of pretzels the flight attendant kept slipping to them.


Willow hung back at the jet bridge for Buffy, leaving Tara to make sure Azalea didn’t cartwheel across the baggage carousel. Thankfully, Sunnydale airport was even smaller than Burbank, so they got through it quickly, though not before stopping at a Burger King. Some fries made for a quiet journey home in the backseat, but Tara made them get waters with them since she figured their blood must be carbonated at this point.


“Looking forward to your own bed, Buff?” Willow asked in the front seat as Tara had graciously sat in the back. “You, uh, barely slept in the hotel one.”


Buffy was quiet. Her body felt beaten, and she actually liked it. A few nights in New York had seemed like an opportunity to escape the ties that bound her to Sunnydale, to her family, to the monotony of work and no play that had become her life, but she had discovered a deeper level of self-loathing that she hadn’t even acknowledged before.


“Barely slept at all,” she admitted with a smile, pushing it all down.


Back to the monotony.


She hopped out at her house and hugged Willow. Willow walked her to the door.


“Deep thoughts?”


“Deep and meaningful,” Buffy answered thoughtfully.


“As in?” Willow prompted gently.


Buffy raised her sunglasses for the first time that whole day. Her eyes were bloodshot, dark circles hanging beneath them. She dropped them again when Willow looked concerned.


“As in, I’m never getting out of here,” she found herself too tired to lie. “I kept thinking if I stopped Mom’s cancer or… But I was kidding myself. I mean, there is always going to be something. I’m a Sunnydale girl, no other choice.”


Willow’s expression softened.


“Buffy, taking care of people isn’t the same thing as being trapped.”


Buffy gave a small laugh.


“Maybe not. Feels the same some days.”


Willow looked like she wanted to argue.


“Don’t,” Buffy said quietly. “Not tonight.”


The door flew open then, and Dawn flew out.


“Hi, Willow!” she waved cheerily before visibly pushing Buffy. “What the heck? You just went to New York without telling me?!”


“You were asleep,” Buffy defended herself, but was given respite as Dawn suddenly screamed when she saw the others in the car and ran over.


Willow watched her go, then fixed her eyes back on Buffy.


“Buffy…”


Buffy held a hand up, then pulled Willow in for a hug.


“Thank you so much for the last couple of days. It means more than you know.”


At that moment, both of their phones pinged at the same time. They looked at each other and checked together. A single text from Xander in their trio group chat with a broken heart emoji.


“Oh, did they actually break up?” Willow asked, sounding unusually perky.


“Seem happier for our friend’s heartbreak, why don’t you?” Buffy replied sarcastically.


“Sorry,” Willow scrunched her nose. “I guess I could bring him out for a beer…”


Buffy threw her bag in the door and returned to the spot.


“I’m in.”


“Really?” Willow asked, swallowing slightly as she honestly just wanted to go home and snuggle with Tara.


Not to mention leaving Tara to solo parent, and that parenting was probably about to include Anya.


Buffy nodded.


“It’s nice. Foamy. Comforting.”


Willow hesitated.


Sally. Azalea. Tara.


Then again, Xander seemed like he’d either start crying or proposing to random strangers if somebody didn’t keep an eye on him.


“Okay,” she sighed. “But only for a couple.”


Tara appeared then, keeping an eye over her shoulder at the car.


“Um, the girls want to have a sleepover. Do you think your mom would mind?”


Willow’s eyes widened, and she held her hands up.


“Before we even go there, you should know I may have to disappear and not be very helpful with sugar, spice, and everything nice over there.”


“What’s wrong?” Tara asked with a furrowed brow.


Just then, her phone made a notification sound. Willow indicated for her to check it.


“Oh,” Tara said as her eyes scanned Anya’s vengeful message. “Oh yes, you’re right. You should probably keep Xander out of sight for a while.”


She tapped something in reply and pocketed her phone.


“Okay. Um, I’ll take the girls if it’s okay with Mrs. Summers. I’ll get them settled and invite Anya over so she doesn’t go through with her hammer plan.”


“What’s the hammer plan?” Buffy asked with a frown.


Tara just held her phone up for the message to read.


“Oh,” Buffy replied, paling.


With the okay from Joyce, Tara brought the girls home to a very accommodating Kimberly, who went so far as to help them set up a blanket fort in the living room. Thankfully, it was a balmy night, so Tara could keep Anya outside in the back yard, and while the neighbors probably got an earful, the kids didn’t.


“Anya, honey, you have to consider the fact that he didn’t actually cheat on you,” Tara said, sitting on a log and watching Anya pace back and forth with exaggerated hand movements.


Anya slapped her hands down on the outdoor table.


“He would have! He was going to kiss her! I know his ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face! I just walked in and ruined his fun!”


Her eyes blazed with fury.


“I’d like to ruin his fun once and for all!”


Across town in the Bronze, Xander drank back his third beer.


“I was happy! I was in love! Powerfully, painfully in love!”


“And you threw it all away for Cordelia Chase?” Willow asked in disbelief.


“But I didn’t!” Xander threw his hands up. “I just…almost did.”


He drained half his beer.


“Which is why this is so stupid. One stupid mistake. One stupid almost-kiss.”


His head dropped into his hands.


“But I didn’t! That should count, right?”

---

“They were this close!” Anya held her thumb and forefinger barely apart. “She already had her chance! He broke her heart because your girlfriend couldn’t keep her lips to herself–”


“Anya,” Tara lightly warned.


“–and now she’s got payback! By destroying the love we built!” Anya continued as she paced. “I’m nothing but attractive collateral damage!”


She dropped onto a log with a pout.


Tara considered her for a moment.


“It sounds like maybe they had some unfinished business?” she suggested gently.


“Yeah, REVENGE!” Anya retorted, then looked up suddenly. “We could drop a piano on her! It always works for that creepy cartoon rabbit running from that nice man with the speech impediment.”


Tara had often wanted to ask Anya how many cults she had grown up in, but she was too afraid of the answer.

---

“She was just…there. Looking at me like she used to. And she hasn’t said a word to me since prom. Then, suddenly, she lured me upstairs, and admittedly, I let it get a bit too snuggleacious. I felt like an old hoodie or box mac’n’cheese or something.”


“Better at 2am?” Buffy asked in confusion.


“I think he means like an old familiar comfort item,” Willow explained.


Xander nodded and indicated that it was correct.


“Plus.”


He paused, unsure.


“I mean, she had her own TV show. You really wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to make out with a TV star? I’m young, and some might say handsome, so why do I have to be so tied down? Anya is acting like we’re old and married. I mean, if there’s a beautiful girl with…no other thought but to please you…willing to do anything…”


He didn’t get an immediate response and sighed dramatically.


“Too many girls.”


His smile almost vanished for a second, turning somewhat wry and bitter. He stared into his beer.


“I miss Jesse. He would never be able to speak to her, but…”


He cleared his throat.


“He'd get it.”


Buffy put a comforting hand on Xander’s knee.


“I’m here for you, Xand. I’m Support-O-Gal.”


Willow rolled her eyes.


“What happened to powerfully, painfully in love?” she muttered.


A woman in red passed by, giving Xander the eye. He suddenly perked up again.


“Look, you want to do guilt-a-palooza, fine, but I’m done with that. Starting this minute, I’m gonna grab a hold of that crazy little thing called life and let it do its magical little heal-y thing.”


He took a long pull from his beer.


For a second, his smile slipped.


“What’s done is done. Let’s be in the moment. Behold the beauty that is now.”


His voice cracked slightly on the last word.


Nobody commented on it.


“Who’s with me?”


Willow watched him bounce his eyebrows and force a grin.


He looked like somebody trying to convince himself.


Buffy smiled.


“He’s actually making sense. We’re young and free in America. How dare we be spun by love or the lack of same?”


They clinked their beers.


Never had Willow felt so outside of her own friend group, even during The Great Separation Of Senior Year when they’d all distanced themselves from each other. Xander had barely even acknowledged her picture outside the Ghostbusters firehouse when she’d sent it, despite it being something they dreamed of as children. Not that long ago, he’d have called immediately. They’d have spent an hour arguing over whether Peter or Egon was cooler.


She still remembered when the three of them used to call each other over things that were stupid. Now she felt like she was reporting in from another planet.


She sat through one more drink, but when Xander and Buffy got up to dance with strangers, she played the ‘parent’ card, and they both seemed confused but accepting of her needing to go.


Watching Buffy and Xander sit shoulder to shoulder at the bar, laughing too loudly at jokes that weren’t funny, Willow felt unsettled. She knew she should have felt relieved that they were keeping each other company.


Instead, she felt strangely invisible.


She wasn’t even jealous. She had Tara waiting at home.


That almost made it worse.


She drove home, and the Maclay house was silent but for the dim hum of the television. She saw the three girls passed out with a near-empty popcorn bowl between them and scooted past to grab the remote and turn the TV off. She made sure each girl had a blanket around them and snuck upstairs quietly so as not to wake anyone.


Tara’s lamp was still on in her bedroom, and though she was lying in bed, she was awake.


“Hey, you,” Tara smiled, and Willow wasn’t sure she’d ever been happier to see it.


Willow kicked off her jeans without preamble, tossed her sweater over the desk chair, and slid under the sheet beside Tara.


“I have to brush my teeth, but I need a snuggle first.”


Tara lay on her side and arched an eyebrow.


“Sounds like your night was as…interesting…as mine.”


Willow winced.


“Anya must have been…a lot.”


“I managed to talk her out of hurting anybody physically,” Tara replied uneasily. “B-But I did help her change all his playlists to sea shanties.”


Willow’s eyes widened. Tara blushed.


“It was either that or she was going to try to trap a bunch of mosquitoes to let loose in his apartment. I-It seemed the lesser of two evils.”


Willow shook her head.


“Honestly, he deserves it. You know it’s bad when I actually feel sorry for Anya. He’s not exactly acting the reticent fool at the Bronze right now. He and Buffy must be 50% beer at this point.”


Tara leaned in and inhaled softly from Willow’s neck before placing a kiss there.


“You don’t smell of stinky yeast.”


“I was sipping on the Bronze’s best attempt at alcohol free beer,” Willow replied wryly. “I’m pretty sure they just mixed a bunch of dark colored liquids together and called it that. If I die in my sleep, avenge my death.”


Tara smiled and leaned in to kiss Willow’s lips.


“I’m glad you’re home.”


“Me too,” Willow replied as she felt her shoulders start to relax. “We already have a kid, I don’t want to parent my friends too.”


She glanced at Tara sidelong.


“Can I tell you something?”


“Anything,” Tara answered without hesitation. “Always.”


Willow pulled the sheet right up to her chest.


“I feel guilty.”


“Why?” Tara asked softly.


Willow met Tara’s eyes.


“Because my friends’ lives are all falling apart and mine is…great.”


Tara settled down beside Willow, taking her hand under the sheet.


“You work hard…we work hard…to make our life work. And we’ve been at a crossroads many times when we made decisions to do the work. We’re so lucky we have each other. But it didn’t just fall together. We work at it every day. And if they want something like that too, they’ll have to put the work in as well.”


She kept Willow’s gaze on the pillow.


“We’ll support them, of course, but you don’t have to feel guilty because we’ve made the choices we have. We’ll have downtimes in our lives, too. I’m sorry they’re going through it now. Are you including Buffy in that?”


Willow nodded solemnly.


“She’s definitely riding the depress-o train.”


“It must be so hard with her mom,” Tara replied sympathetically. “She’s taken on a heavy burden at a young age. She must feel like the only girl in all the world.”


Willow curled her body around Tara.


“I just want to go home with my w–” she cut herself off softly. “My Tara.”


Tara kissed the top of Willow’s head. Willow closed her eyes as her ear pressed against Tara’s chest.


“There it is. Now I’m here. Now I’m home.”


Tara gently stroked Willow’s hair.


“Mmm. This is a house arrest.”


“I gotta plead guilty,” Willow murmured happily.


She wasn’t planning on moving an inch.


Toothbrushing be damned.

---

Willow had never been gladder to see the highway.


Leaving Sunnydale felt like leaving a sinking ship, and she was darned if she wasn’t going to throw Sally and Tara on a raft and get out of dodge.


Jeff and Giles had agreed that Anya could stay in the makeshift apartment above the Magic Box while she worked out her next move, and when Willow had been saying goodbye to Buffy and Xander, both had just been feeling sorry for themselves. She promised she’d be in touch, and she meant it, but there seemed to be a slight thread of resentment for her ‘perfect’ relationship, and Willow thought she overheard Xander making a remark calling Tara a goodie two-shoes.


She didn’t catch it quick enough, but if he ever tried to say something like it again, he’d find out very quickly that Tara wasn’t a subject Willow was willing to be diplomatic about. She didn’t know what the heck had happened between her birthday and now for the vibe to change so completely, but she’d help as much as she could, from afar.


Her whole life existed within this car, and they would have to be her focus.


They were her lifeboat.


But she didn’t want to watch her friends capsize, either.


The worst part was that neither of them seemed to realize they were taking on water.


In the backseat, Sally and Az were playing slapsies, and Tara had her DJ table out, working out a setlist for her next show. Every so often, she’d ask for an opinion on some blending or a transition, and Willow saw her eyes dancing, knowing this was the part of it all she really enjoyed: just making the music.


“Love that, baby,” Willow complimented, glancing over just for a split second so she didn’t take her eyes off the road. “That bit where the same note ends the first song and starts the second? It made me feel like when I plug a USB in correctly the first time.”


Tara smiled.


“That is high praise indeed. And my biggest frustration as a DJ.”


Willow laughed and briefly squeezed Tara’s knee.


When they were coming into Los Angeles, Willow asked Azalea to call out her address to put in the GPS. It was in Fairfax, a street they passed often, and not one Willow associated with the more snobby student body of their school.


They parked up outside and popped the trunk to get Azalea’s luggage out.


The house was small, not as small as their apartment, where the walls were thin enough to hear the neighbors sneeze sometimes, but small, the way older houses tended to be, especially in LA.


Stucco flaked off near the porch steps, and the chain-link fence leaned just enough to suggest nobody had gotten around to fixing it in years, but the yard was well-maintained and had a small patch of poppies next to a garden swing.


They followed Az up the narrow walkway, and both Willow and Tara were surprised Juniper hadn’t flung open the door the moment the car pulled up. They shared a look that expressed this to each other as Az rang the doorbell and hung back in case they got caught up in an anxiety storm about to erupt.


The front door opened calmly, and for a second, Willow felt like everything slowed down.


“Oh my god,” she whispered, air leaving her lungs.


Tara’s mouth hung open slightly.


“Az’s mom is–”


“Totally hot!” Willow hissed, tensing her facial muscles to contain her reaction.


Juniper had completely transformed: from frizzy, frazzled hair to a straight, sleek look, wearing a bodycon mini dress that wasn’t inappropriate for an LA summer yet still felt like it should be worn to a cocktail party and enough make-up to seem like she was wearing none at all.


“Oh, Azalea, I missed you!”


She threw her arms around Az, who hugged back, seemingly oblivious to her mother’s transformation. Juniper squeezed her daughter tightly and looked up to Willow and Tara.


“Thank you for bringing her home. I’m sorry I doubted you.”


Willow and Tara exchanged a look.


“Uh, didn’t know you did,” Willow replied, swinging her hands together. “So, um, no sweat, I guess?”


“They were cool, Mom!” Azalea defended with a smile. “Willow can recite pi almost as long as I can.”


Willow was about to open her mouth to object when Tara nudged her gently not to get into a fighting match with a tween.


“Right, well, um, we’d better get home to unpack.”


Sally approached Azalea, and they played out a secret handshake, laughing at the end.


“See you soon!” Willow waved to Azalea, then looked back at Juniper. “And um, your haircut or, um, new clothes…they really suit you.”


Juniper put a hand against her heart.


“Oh, I’m married. To a man.”


Willow nodded a little too quickly and turned beet red.


“Yeah, we should go. Home. Our home. Where we live.”


Tara put a hand on Willow’s back to guide her away faster.


“Nice to see you again. Bye, Az.”


“Bye!” Az called out with a big wave.


They rushed back to the car, and Willow drove away as quickly as she could turn the ignition on.


“Why were you hitting on Az’s mom?” Sally asked in a bored tone.


Willow started spluttering.


“I was not! She, she changed! And I was just…I just wanted…NICE, okay, I was being NICE! I…”


“Az told me she always looks different when she and her Dad go away,” Sally replied, scratching her nails against the car seat.


“Oy, not delving into that one,” Willow muttered.


“Let’s just get home,” Tara agreed.


The apartment felt cozy and familiar when they got home after the past few days.


“Hey, Miss Kitty,” Willow greeted, bending down to make a pspsps sound.


Miss Kitty cracked an eye open from her bed and closed it again.


“Hey, Miss Kitty!” Sally stepped into the apartment, and Miss Kitty’s eyes flew open, and she darted over to Sally, weaving between her legs and purring as she jumped up onto Sally’s shoulder.


“Never forget who buys your treats,” Willow said, wounded.


Sally brought the cat over to her play area and started bouncing her mouse on a string.


Tara wheeled back their luggage and put it by the wall. Unpacking and laundry could wait an hour.


“Home sweet home,” she said as she kissed the top of Willow’s ear.


Her phone started beeping incessantly.


“Anya, I’m sure,” Tara said with a frown. “She’s always had an uncanny knack for knowing right when I have no excuse but to reply to her.”


“I have messages from Buffy and Xander, too,” Willow said, waving her phone from her pocket. “It’s basically a two-way conversation about how drunk to get tonight, like they’ve forgotten I’m in the group chat too.”


Tara sighed deeply.


“I don’t know how this is all going to play out.”


“Disaster,” Willow replied, shaking her head. “In absolute disaster.”

---

Less than a week after getting back from New York, and a few days since Willow and Tara had returned to LA and left Sunnydale and its residents to their devices, not much had changed.


So much so that Buffy felt like she’d never really come home.


Xander, being a willing drinking buddy, helped, but even in the quiet creep of night, she got her thrills by walking through the graveyard by herself, as if death herself was calling to her.


The quiet was suddenly disturbed as the hum of a motorcycle broke through the air. She looked around just in time to see a recognizable face ride up beside her. The man on the bike threw his leg off and picked a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one up.


“I told you I’d see you Saturday,” he said as he took a quiet drag. “Won’t kill you though. Some other things I’d like to do instead.”


“Spike,” Buffy said with wide eyes.


“Sorry it took me so long. This bloody country never ends,” Spike replied, kicking the tire of his bike. “Highway this, highway that. Bitta bloody greenery wouldn’t go amiss. Haven’t slept a wink since I left New York. Good thing I’m used to stayin’ up.”


Buffy’s heart was hammering.


“H-How did you find me?”


“I’ve got a good nose,” Spike replied casually, before whipping something out of his pocket with two fingers. “Forgot your license, didn’t you, Buffy? Can see why you went with Anne with a name like that. Had to ask around when I got here. Seems you’ve got a bit of a reputation around here. Everybody kept pointing me somewhere else.”


Buffy blinked.


“Oh.”


That meant she must have traveled home on her old fake ID, which, while it was a very good fake, didn’t say much for the TSA. Or her, as she'd been too hungover on the flight home to even realize.


She took it and put it in her back pocket.


“That’s all you’ve got to say when I’ve come all this way?” Spike asked, grinning devilishly.


Alarm bells started ringing in Buffy’s head. This was a man she’d met once, and yes, okay, had ‘gotten to know’, but now he rode from one end of the continent to the other for her?


“This is wrong. This is creepy. You are…beyond creepy.”


She tried to push away, but he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close.


“I may be dirt, but you’re the one who likes to roll in it.”


Buffy felt dizzy.


Spike flicked his cigarette away and sat back on his bike.


“Come on, pet. I’ve got a spot we can go to.”


Every alarm bell in Buffy’s head was screaming.


And yet for some godforsaken reason, she got on the back of that bike anyway.

[TheBigPineapple99]

Dibs! Reading this at work, feel very bad for Buffy and Xander, and for Willow being caught in between them. Honestly I relate a lot to part of what Buffy and Xander are feeling here, and part of me doesn’t really blame them for how they’re acting, even if I do feel bad for the position it’s putting Willow in. In many ways they’re right, they’re young, Willow’s situation as a young parent is by far the more atypical for her age. I’m glad she’s settling in well, but I totally understand Buffy not feeling ready for the adult role she’s been put in and wanting some release, or even Xander not feeling as ready for the seriousness of his relationship. Thought obviously I can’t quite support all of their coping methods I think you’ve done a really good job of writing everyone do they have a very understandable position. And I didn’t think we’d see Spike again, perhaps naive of me. Kind of both excited and afraid to see where that goes. Thank you so much for continuing to share these stories with us!

[Will's redemption]

Hi Laragh, I'm overjoyed that you're continuing this story.
Sorry that I haven't commented since you've started writing again.

I'm happy that the "core family" of Willow, Tara and Sally is thriving and happy.
I also feel sorry for Buffy and Anya (Xander not so much, I can't understand that he let himself get lured by Cordelia after she regressed into a total bitca again! ).

From the epilogue of "Inevitable" I know that things will get much worse for Buffy before they get better. I'm wondering how much of the destructive relationship between her and Spike you are going to let uns readers witness from her perspective.

Alarm bells started ringing in Buffy’s head. This was a man she’d met once, and yes, okay, had ‘gotten to know’, but now he rode from one end of the continent to the other for her?


“This is wrong. This is creepy. You are…beyond creepy.”

An optimist might call Spike's move romantic - but I fear it wasn't motivated by "love at first sight" but darker intentions (a desire to "own" or "control" Buffy, maybe?)

Willow curled her body around Tara.


“I just want to go home with my w–” she cut herself off softly. “My Tara.”


Tara kissed the top of Willow’s head. Willow closed her eyes as her ear pressed against Tara’s chest.


“There it is. Now I’m here. Now I’m home.”

Awww to Willow almost calling Tara her wife!
I'm really hoping they're going to get engaged soon and that in this fic Tara will be the one to propose.

[Laragh]

TheBigPineapple99 —

Dibs! Reading this at work, feel very bad for Buffy and Xander, and for Willow being caught in between them. Honestly I relate a lot to part of what Buffy and Xander are feeling here, and part of me doesn’t really blame them for how they’re acting, even if I do feel bad for the position it’s putting Willow in. In many ways they’re right, they’re young, Willow’s situation as a young parent is by far the more atypical for her age. I’m glad she’s settling in well, but I totally understand Buffy not feeling ready for the adult role she’s been put in and wanting some release, or even Xander not feeling as ready for the seriousness of his relationship. Thought obviously I can’t quite support all of their coping methods I think you’ve done a really good job of writing everyone do they have a very understandable position.

I sympathize with them muchly! They are young and learning about heartbreak and dealing with complicated family situations and not much money. Willow and Tara are in a very different, some would even say privileged situation and had it not been somewhat similar to what they ended up doing at the same age on the show (minus the job situation) it probably would have been a lot to make people believe they could raise a young teen! I honestly think Buffy and Xander are acting totally age appropriately, it’s just such a stark contrast to how Willow is living her life that the divide feels bigger.

And I didn’t think we’d see Spike again, perhaps naive of me. Kind of both excited and afraid to see where that goes. Thank you so much for continuing to share these stories with us!

He is established as having been a ‘thing’ from the epilogue of Inevitable, so I kind of had to weave him in somehow. I will say I’m not a Spuffy shipper though, so anyone hoping for that is probably best off avoiding”

Thanks so much for your feedback

Will's redemption —

Hi Laragh, I'm overjoyed that you're continuing this story.
Sorry that I haven't commented since you've started writing again.

Hi!!!

I'm happy that the "core family" of Willow, Tara and Sally is thriving and happy.
I also feel sorry for Buffy and Anya (Xander not so much, I can't understand that he let himself get lured by Cordelia after she regressed into a total bitca again! ).

I feel like like most things in life, growth isn't always linear. Cordelia is hitting the rejection of her show hard so what better way to get validation than coming home to where she was Queen C? She will ride that wave throughout the years, though she won't feature much to see it. There is however A Plan with her!

From the epilogue of "Inevitable" I know that things will get much worse for Buffy before they get better. I'm wondering how much of the destructive relationship between her and Spike you are going to let uns readers witness from her perspective.

Truly witnesss? Very little.

An optimist might call Spike's move romantic - but I fear it wasn't motivated by "love at first sight" but darker intentions (a desire to "own" or "control" Buffy, maybe?)

Being enthralled.

Awww to Willow almost calling Tara her wife!
I'm really hoping they're going to get engaged soon and that in this fic Tara will be the one to propose.

All I'll say is...trust me!

Thanks so much for your feedback, glad to see you back!

---

Update Directly Below

[Laragh]

---

A Blessing

---

'Cause You Can Hear In The Silence
You Can Feel It On The Way Home
You Can See It With The Lights Out
You Are In Love, True Love
You Are In Love

Time passed as time does.


Anya moved into the magic box permanently, paying rent by doing extra hours as a procurement manager, giving Jeff more time to focus on expanding evening classes.


Apparently, this just involved ‘browsing eBay while watching Housewives’, as Anya put it, but it gave her something else to do instead of thinking about Xander, who was feeling the effects of Anya’s pain through all of the petty revenge ideas she’d come up with when carrying out her ‘vengeance business’.


More than one glitter bomb had arrived for him in the mail, though Xander was doing himself a much bigger disservice with his continuous drinking, mimicking his father just a little too closely.


Buffy, on the other hand, had gone to ground. Working a lot, apparently, especially night shifts. She would text back, hours or even days later, but never said more than a few words.


While Willow and Tara cared for and were doing their best to be available to their friends for a vent or cry session, it was also all systems go in their lives.


School started up again, and they were back in the routine of classes, work, and home. Sally and Azalea were the ‘cool kids’ of the advanced placement program they were in, having gone to New York for the summer, and while Az was lapping it up, Sally was happy to hang out with Aaron at lunch and let her make the most of it.


The school had offered to put Sally in an accelerated math program on the back of their triumph, but she’d decided to let Az be Queen Bee in that department while she stayed in some gifted classes and returned to mainstream in others. The math camp had given her the confidence to learn how she wanted, and the school gave her the freedom to structure it how she wanted.


By the end of September, they were in the swing of things, had worked out their new schedules, and settled into their new classes, but it was a stark contrast to the freedom of the summer when Willow and Tara had pretty much seen each other whenever they wanted.


“Dinner was delicious,” Tara said as she gently bumped Willow’s shoulder as they did the dishes side-by-side. “That lemon garlic chicken is my favorite thing you make.”


“Improvement from the days of Pop-Tarts for every meal, huh?” Willow asked as she wiped a dishcloth over a plate. “I may have, ah, been buttering you up a little bit.”


“Oh?” Tara asked with an arched eyebrow. “What do I need to be buttered up for?”


“Uh, well, see, I kinda won’t be here on Wednesday?” Willow replied, desperately trying to stop her voice from going up an octave. “I have, um, a class. A project. A mandatory attendance project that I have to physically attend in person.”


She paused, purposefully turning away from Tara under the guise of stacking the plates.


“I should be back by the time Sally’s home from school, but…”


“You need me to be here,” Tara finished.


Willow’s head bobbed in a nod.


“You can take your Consumer Psychology class online, right? I mean, that’s…that’s the easiest one to take online?”


She'd scoured Tara's schedule carefully, trying to figure that out.


Tara nodded too.


“I was, um, gonna go to the studio, but I can reschedule.”


Willow took a wet glass and continued to dry it.


“You’ve been studio gal night and day lately.”


“Well, it’s good to be prepared,” Tara replied, rinsing a spoon a little too hard, and some water splashed on her.


Willow delicately patted the wet spot on Tara’s collarbone.


“You must be working on something good.”


Tara’s eyes were downcast.


“It’s hard to know when it’s perfect.”


“Does it have to be?” Willow asked softly.


Tara exhaled slowly.


“This one? Yeah.”


Willow frowned slightly but tried to turn it into a smile.


“So, um, Wednesday? Can you come home early just in case? I could even just stay in touch, so you only have to come home if you need to? If traffic’s okay, you might not need to at all…”


“Of course it’s fine. You need to go to your project,” Tara replied as she handed off the last utensil. “What’s the project on anyway?”


Willow’s eyes widened, and she struggled to neutralize her face before she turned back.


“I'm helping benchmark a distributed neural-network optimization framework,” she rattled off too quickly.


She bit down on her inner lip for a moment to stop the shake in her voice.


“The backend uses parallelized tensor virtualization for real-time semantic calibration,” she continued with the undue confidence of every fraudster in the Hulu documentaries she'd watched.


Tara just laughed.


“Okay, honey. Well, I hope some of those words are interesting enough to keep you occupied.”


“Oh, I’ll be very occupied,” Willow promised weakly before hanging the cloth on the sink.

---

“You got your lunch?” Willow asked as Sally shoved some papers into her backpack. “And your social studies paper?”


“Blah blah industrial revolution, blah blah, kids worked in mines, blah blah labor reforms,” Sally recited in a bored tone. “You know, under the California Labor Code, minors can’t work until they’re 14 years old.”


“So?” Willow asked with an arched eyebrow.


“So you should consider that next time you ask me to empty the dishwasher,” Sally replied as she stuck out her tongue. “Hey, can I have an extra pudding cup?”


Willow’s eyes narrowed slightly.


“Because you’re hungry or because you’re using it as some kind of playground currency?”


Sally threw her backpack on her back indignantly.


“God forbid a girl diversify her assets.”


There was a knock at the door just as Tara came out of the bathroom, tying her hair up.


“Are we expecting someone this early?”


“It’s just Aaron,” Sally said as she made her way over to the door. “His Dads are finally letting him walk to school alone.”


She opened the door and waved to Aaron on the other side.


“Hi!” she said, looking over her shoulder momentarily. “Bye!”


The door slammed before either Willow or Tara had a chance to return the goodbye.


“Counting down the days to 13…” Tara muttered as she went to the kitchen to pour some coffee.


“At least she said bye,” Willow replied as she took the keys to the Vespa from their hook.


“Do you want to take the car?” Tara offered as she held her mug in both hands.


“Don’t you need it?” Willow asked with a frown.


Tara shook her head.


“No, I wanted to make sure you didn’t feel under pressure, so I arranged all my classes from home today.”


Willow’s heart swelled.


Which, unfortunately, made lying to Tara feel approximately one thousand times worse.


“Great. That’ll save my butt some cramping.”


“Oh, so I won’t have to massage it later,” Tara said with a crooked grin just peeking out above her mug.


Willow nearly dropped the keys.


“On second thought, I should definitely take Velma. She’s probably been feeling neglected lately.”


“What if I promise Roxy a little rub anyway?” Tara asked with a sly wink as she went to refresh her mug. “Do you want some coffee for the road?”


Willow shook her head.


“Already jittering at near-visible frequencies.”


“Oh, honey,” Tara said as she put her mug down and came over to hold Willow by the shoulders. “I’m sure you’ll do great on your project.”


She caught Willow’s face in her hands and looked her square in the eyes.


“You are amazing. You’re going to do great. And you look particularly well-polished today.”


She leaned in and pressed a tender kiss on Willow’s lips.


“I love you no matter how it goes.”


Willow’s shoulders relaxed momentarily, and she rested her forehead on Tara’s.


“I love you so much.”


Tara kissed the bridge of Willow’s nose and then lightly slapped her butt.


“Go on. You don’t want to be late.”


Willow turned quickly.


“Okay. Going now. Um, I’ll keep in touch.”


“Good luck, honey,” Tara called after her as Willow switched keys and headed out to the car.


She sat behind the wheel for a second, took a deep breath, then turned the ignition and pulled out of the parking spot.


Then, instead of heading east for campus, she headed north toward Sunnydale.

---

Willow was just approaching Maple Court, trying to decide whether a decaf mocha would calm her nerves or simply give her a cream-based delivery system to roll around her anxious stomach, when she spotted Anya marching across the street toward the Magic Box and then Xander following after her, seemingly pleading with her.


Shit, shit, shit


As guilty as it made her feel, she couldn’t risk seeing any of her friends today. Whether inadvertently or not, they'd reveal it to Tara, and then she would be screwed.


She made a quick turn onto State Street, forgoing any idea of sugaring up, and barreled straight toward the street she grew up on.


She'd deliberately planned this for the weekend her parents were away, using their driveway to park beneath the garage awning to look less conspicuous. Kimberly should be on day two of her off days, meaning she’d be both awake and rested and hopefully in a prime mood for the conversation Willow wanted to have.


She rushed across the street and hesitated at the door to the Maclay house, smoothing her shirt and fixing her jacket.


She lifted her hand to knock, but it faltered and fell by her side again. Mentally kicking herself in the ass, she quickly lifted it again and made contact this time, knocking three times.


A few moments later, Kimberly answered the door and had a moment of surprise.


“Oh, Willow. What are–”


She paused, looking past Willow.


“Where is Tara? And Sally?” she asked, her voice rising with alarm. “What’s happened, what’s going on?”


“No, no,” Willow shook her head vigorously and waved her hands in front of her. “No, nothing, nothing bad! Nothing’s wrong!”


This couldn’t have gotten off to a better start. She deflated on the spot.


“Can I come in?”


Kimberly blinked once, then stood aside to let Willow in.


Willow walked in, fidgeting with her hands, until she felt Kimberly’s warm, maternal hand on the small of her back, guiding her into the kitchen.


Kimberly silently busied herself making tea and brought two clear cups with a slice of lemon and a fresh sprig of mint in them.


“Lemon balm tea. Calming. Take a sip.”


Willow obeyed, closing her eyes while the warm liquid moved down her throat.


Kimberly waited until Willow’s hands stopped shaking to speak.


“Now. Tell me what on earth is going on.”


Willow knew what she wanted to say.


She had practiced it over and over, for days – weeks – now. She’d done it a hundred times in the car ride up alone.


But now, no words came.


Just blankness.


She sipped the tea in heavy glugs, the hot liquid burning her throat as she willed her words to return to her.


Why was this the one time in her entire life she couldn’t just start babbling?


When her empty cup made a hollow sound against the table, she held up a hand to indicate she needed a minute.


“Take your time, sweetheart.”


Willow suddenly felt like she was swallowed by dread. Not in a very long time had she felt this useless, and she realized quickly she wasn’t going to let herself either.


“Nope. No. Not screwing this up.”


She stood up, marched out the front door, slapped her cheek twice, then turned around and knocked again, louder this time.


Kimberly again opened the door, trying her hardest not to look alarmed.


But this time, Willow stood confidently and reassuringly.


“Hello, Ms. Maclay. I’d like to speak to you about your daughter.”


“I see,” Kimberly replied, holding back a smile. “Well then, you'd better come in.”


Willow walked right in and pivoted to the living room this time. They sat together on the couch, and Willow made sure her posture was straight. She met Kimberly’s eyes.


“I have loved Tara since I was four years old.”


Her voice caught, but she cleared her throat and continued.


“She is everything I need that I never knew I wanted,” she said, making sure she didn’t break their gaze. “She is everything I want that I never knew I needed.”


Kimberly’s eyes started to crease as she realized what was happening.


“We’ve gone through more than a lot of people our age, and it’s come to a point where I want her and the whole world to know that this is forever,” Willow said, desperately poking her tongue out to wet her lips and allow herself to continue. “So I’m asking for your blessing. Not your permission, because Tara doesn’t belong to anybody and she never will.”


Willow gave one small, resolute nod.


But I’ll be hers forever.


Willow held Kimberly's gaze another moment, wanting the sincerity behind those words to be unmistakable, before finally letting herself soften again.


“I am asking your blessing to ask your daughter to marry me.”


Her hands were tight in her lap, nails digging into her palms, and her jaw tensed, but she kept eye contact and made sure it was known that she was entirely serious.


Instead of an expected reaction, which Willow foresaw going two ways – a giant hug or frantic discouragement – Kimberly just stood, turned, and quietly walked out of the room.


Willow watched the door for a moment, blinking.


What the hell was that?


Was she supposed to follow?


See herself out?


She looked around like a camera crew or something might jump out and tell her it was all a prank, but not even a car drove by outside.


Just as Willow was contemplating curling up into a ball and pretending the world didn’t exist, she heard footsteps on the stairs, and Kimberly reappeared.


Willow stood respectfully, but Kimberly had her sit again and transferred something from her hands into Willow’s.


Willow looked down and gasped slightly upon seeing a classic black velvet ring box. Two shaking thumbs eased it open, and inside was a delicate yellow gold band with a striking oval-cut ruby at its center, held in a four-prong setting. On either side of the center stone were three small round diamonds clustered together, balancing it, and tiny gold bead prongs separated and secured the accent stones, highlighting its vintage design.


“This is Tara’s grandmother’s ring,” Willow breathed, almost afraid to touch it. “I remember us playing with it. It was one of the only times I can remember you getting mad at us.”


“It's spent more time in my dresser than on anyone's hand,” Kimberly admitted. “It always felt like it was waiting. My mother always said that some jewellery chooses its owner. This one chose Tara a very long time ago.”


She turned her head with gentle recollection.


“Tara used to put this on every time she played dress-up,” she continued softly. “Then she’d announce she was marrying you. So you could say, Willow, this visit hasn't exactly come out of nowhere.”


She paused for a moment.


“Do you already have one?”


Willow looked back down at the ring. She could only shake her head.


“Every ring I looked at felt wrong somehow. I could never find the perfect one. I was hoping once I’d done this, it would force my brain into making a decision.”


Willow couldn't even meet Kimberly’s eyes for a moment. With tears pricking at the corners, she looked up.


“Does this mean…?”


Kimberly covered Willow’s hands with her own.


“Yes, you have my blessing,” she said, emotion and laughter both cracking in her voice. “I knew everything I needed to know about you the day you stood in that courtroom for Sally and took my daughter's hand without even hesitating. I know you will treat her how she deserves to be treated.”


Willow threw her arms around Kimberly, and they both started blubbering. Kimberly leaned over to the coffee table to pluck two tissues out of a box and handed one over.


“Are you sure about the ring?” Willow asked as she ran the tissue under her nose.


Kimberly nodded.


“It would have been hers anyway. She might as well have it now. And I like to think you both picked it out that day you were six.”


Willow just stared down at the ring.


“It’s going to look so beautiful on her,” she whispered, then tucked some hair behind her ear shyly. “If she says yes.”


Kimberly brought her hands down on her own thighs.


“Tell me everything. When, where, how? And where does Tara think you are today?”


“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know,” Willow answered honestly. “And doing a project. I hope she doesn’t look up any of the words I said I was doing my project on, because it was complete gibberish. I can’t lie to her.”


“That’s a good thing,” Kimberly impressed on Willow with a firm gaze. “I want you to remember that your whole life.”


Willow nodded, understanding.


“I was thinking her birthday?” she said, uncertainty in her voice. “And I dunno why but…something pulls me here. To Sunnydale. It has, like, our roots. I feel like we should lay this new one here too.”


Kimberly dabbed beneath her eyes with the tissue and then suddenly straightened.


“Oh, wait.”


Willow’s eyes widened, and her heart started to pound.


“W-What?”


Kimberly adopted a slightly pleading look.


“You’re not…going to do the ring in a dessert thing, are you? This ring will not look anywhere near as good buried in a crème brûlée.”


Willow recoiled slightly and tried to shake her head indignantly.


“I wasn’t gonna!”


Kimberly raised an eyebrow.


“But you were thinking about it.”


Willow started a small pout.


“I was considering options!” she defended her unexpressed thoughts, then slightly deflated. “Of which Sunnydale has very few. Apart from some seasonal attractions…”


Kimberly narrowed her eyes knowingly.


“You were thinking about the carnival, weren’t you?”


Willow’s silence answered for her.


“Oh, honey, no.”


Willow laughed helplessly despite herself. Sometimes Tara and her mom were so alike.


“What’s wrong with the carnival?”


“There’s nothing wrong with the carnival,” Kimberly replied sagely. “But Tara doesn’t want to be full of greasy dough foods or having been throttled around a ride when she’s proposed to.”


That was, infuriatingly, true.


“What about somewhere by the beach?” Kimberly asked.


Willow’s eyes widened, and she immediately shook her head.


“Us and beaches have a, um…complicated history.”


Thankfully, Kimberly didn’t probe.


“She likes thoughtful things,” Kimberly continued gently. “Private things. Meaningful things. You know her, Willow. Think about her, not the event itself.”


Willow slumped back slightly.


“That’s the problem,” she admitted. “It feels too important, and everything feels not enough.”


Kimberly softened instantly.


“Tell me your ideas.”


Willow groaned and covered her face.


“You’re gonna judge me.”


“I raised Donny. I've had plenty of practice in judging silently,” Kimberly replied with a requisite Maclay crooked grin.


Willow snorted loudly, surprising herself.


Then, slowly, she lowered her hands.


“I wanted to spell out Marry Me with candles.”


Kimberly tilted her head uncertainly.


“Where?”


“Well, I’m guessing there’s some kind of lighting-candles-in-public permit needed for such things, so maybe…here?” Willow asked hopefully.


“Here?” Kimberly asked, looking around them.


“In the backyard,” Willow explained, her knees knocking together slightly. “We played so much out there growing up.”


“Oh,” Kimberly said softly, immediately understanding.


Willow stared down at her hands.


“We used to hide from Donny in the bushes,” she admitted quietly. “Sometimes we wouldn’t even talk. We’d just…sit.”


Kimberly's face softened.


“That’s not a bad choice.”


“But then I thought maybe it’s too sad?” Willow continued quickly. “Like, hey, honey, remember all our trauma? Wanna legally bind yourself to me forever?”


Kimberly burst out laughing.


Willow smiled despite herself.


“See? Bad.”


“No, sweetheart,” Kimberly corrected warmly. “That’s history. There’s a difference.”


Willow fell quiet at that.


History, not trauma. Somehow, those felt different coming from Tara’s mother. Her therapist would have a field day with that revelation.


“What else?” Kimberly prompted.


Willow sighed dramatically.


“Well, I guess the French restaurant is out.”


“Mhm,” Kimberly agreed with a nod.


“Mr. Smith’s Pizza was pretty special for us. We had it every Friday night,” Willow continued.


“Mhm,” Kimberly replied again, though less enthused this time.


Willow gnawed on her lip.


“The park near downtown. When our old park got mowed down for a parking lot, that became where we went to just be the two of us.”


Kimberly’s eyebrows rose slightly.


“The one with the lake?”


Willow looked away.


“That’s where she kissed me…not for the first time. That’s all very complicated. But the first time I knew I loved her. Where I was able to accept that I loved her. Or a tiny bit of me, anyway, though it took me too long to tell her.”


Kimberly immediately pressed a hand to her chest.


“Oh, that’s dangerous.”


“Dangerous?” Willow asked, unsurely.


“For me emotionally,” Kimberly clarified, swiping at her eyes. “I’m already crying.”


Willow laughed again, softer this time.


Then her expression slowly dimmed.


“What if she says no?”


Kimberly’s face changed instantly, but not with offense or dismissiveness or even criticism. Just a deeply certain look in her eyes that only a mother could have.


“She won’t.”


Willow felt that too, but she was nothing if not an expert in self-doubt.


“But what if she does?”


Kimberly reached across and took Willow’s hand again.


“Then she’ll still love you,” she said simply. “But Willow? That girl has loved you with her entire soul since before she was even old enough to know what love was.”


Willow had to press her lips together to stop them from trembling.


“And between you and me,” Kimberly added in a conspiratorial whisper. “She’s significantly less subtle about it than she thinks she is.”


Willow laughed through tears.


“She really thinks she’s smooth sometimes. Like, I don’t notice her checking me out.”


“She gets that from me,” Kimberly grinned. “I was so obvious about it, I ended up pregnant at 15.”


Willow laughed so hard she had to wipe beneath her eyes again.


The warmth settled around them naturally after that, easy and familiar.


Family, Willow realized.


And suddenly she could picture it all so clearly that it almost hurt.


Not just the proposal, but all that came after.


Tara asleep beside her for the rest of her life.


Sally still stealing food out of their fridge at sixteen. Twenty. Thirty.


Arguments over the paint colors of nurseries.


Chrisyulenukkah.


Wrinkles.


Grey hair.


Little old ladyhood.


An extraordinary life shared in ordinary moments, just like their walk through Manhattan.


The one Willow had planned, and Tara had loved.


The thought rooted itself so deeply in Willow’s chest that it nearly stole the breath from her lungs. Kimberly must have seen it happen on her face because her own expression softened immediately.


“There it is,” she said quietly.


Willow frowned slightly.


“What?”


Kimberly had a look of pride and awe.


“That look.”


“What look?” Willow asked, self-consciously touching her face.


Kimberly squeezed her hand.


“The one that says you already know her answer.”


Willow swallowed hard.


Yeah.


Maybe she did.


Kimberly squeezed Willow’s hands.


“If I can do anything to help,” she offered sincerely, then her hands flew to her mouth. “My baby is getting married!”


“You are still wildly overestimating my chances here,” Willow said weakly, but Kimberly just waved a dismissive hand before Willow spoke again. “And you have to keep it a secret. From everyone.”


Kimberly made a cross symbol across her heart.


Willow closed the ring box and put it in her inside pocket.


“I swear I’ll keep it safe until it’s hers again.”


They stood and hugged, and Kimberly cupped Willow’s face.


“You’ve always been family. I’m so happy you’re making it official.”


Willow swallowed deeply and said goodbye before she started crying.


Willow stepped back out into the cool afternoon air in a daze.


The door clicked shut behind her, but she stayed on the porch for a moment, one hand pressed against the inside pocket of her jacket like she needed to physically reassure herself that the ring was still there.


It was real. Everything about it suddenly felt terrifyingly real.


Not hypothetical, or ‘someday’, or a sleepy murmur whispered into Tara’s hair while she slept.


Marry me?


It had happened more than once in the past few weeks, when she lay awake pondering the biggest question of her life. Like practice. If she could say it enough times to Tara while she slept, she might be able to do it awake.


She hurried down the porch steps before she could start crying again and slid into the driver’s seat of the car, shutting the door with a shaky exhale.


For a long moment, she just sat there.


Then she pulled the ring box back out, carefully this time.


Reverently, really.


The ruby caught the afternoon sunlight spilling through the windshield, throwing tiny, fractured red reflections across her fingers.


Willow smiled helplessly.


“Oh, she’s gonna love you,” she whispered.


Her eyes burned almost immediately.


Because now the proposal danced in her mind like a little movie playing a memory that hadn't happened yet.


Tara laughing in disbelief.


Tara crying.


Tara covering her mouth with both hands.


Tara saying yes.


Willow's throat tightened violently.


Before she could fully lose composure, Willow snapped the box shut again and pressed it tightly to her chest.


Then, after one steadying breath, she reached for her phone.


Three missed texts.


From Tara, of course.





The second, twenty minutes later:





And the third:





Willow stared at the screen so long that it blurred. She let out one breath that was almost a laugh and typed back:

Never had four words conveyed so much.


She put the car into reverse with trembling hands.


And for the first time since she’d started planning all of this, Willow Rosenberg let herself believe Tara might actually become her wife.

[Will's redemption]

Dibs!

I'm really happy about Willow's resolve to propose to Tara and her decision to ask for Kimberly's blessing first.

So cute how she just "restarted" the whole visit once she remembered what she planned to say, and what a lovely declaration ist was:.

“I have loved Tara since I was four years old.”


Her voice caught, but she cleared her throat and continued.


“She is everything I need that I never knew I wanted,” she said, making sure she didn’t break their gaze. “She is everything I want that I never knew I needed.”


Kimberly’s eyes started to crease as she realized what was happening.


“We’ve gone through more than a lot of people our age, and it’s come to a point where I want her and the whole world to know that this is forever,” Willow said, desperately poking her tongue out to wet her lips and allow herself to continue. “So I’m asking for your blessing. Not your permission, because Tara doesn’t belong to anybody and she never will.”


Willow gave one small, resolute nod.


But I’ll be hers forever.


Willow held Kimberly's gaze another moment, wanting the sincerity behind those words to be unmistakable, before finally letting herself soften again.


“I am asking your blessing to ask your daughter to marry me.”

I wasn't impressed by Kimberly just walking out of the room and leaving Willow in doubt (she could have said something like "Oh sweetie, of course you have my blessing, will you excuse me for just a minute?") That aside I loved that Kimberly gave Willow her mother's ring to use as the engagement ring and how she helped Willow develop her plan for the proposal and overcome her fear that Tara might refuse her.

They stood and hugged, and Kimberly cupped Willow’s face.


“You’ve always been family. I’m so happy you’re making it official.”


Willow swallowed deeply and said goodbye before she started crying.

I always felt that Kimberly loved Willow and treated her like a second daughter, so I'm not surprised she accepts her as her daughter in law.

For a long moment, she just sat there.


Then she pulled the ring box back out, carefully this time.


Reverently, really.


The ruby caught the afternoon sunlight spilling through the windshield, throwing tiny, fractured red reflections across her fingers.


Willow smiled helplessly.


“Oh, she’s gonna love you,” she whispered.


Her eyes burned almost immediately.


Because now the proposal danced in her mind like a little movie playing a memory that hadn't happened yet.


Tara laughing in disbelief.


Tara crying.


Tara covering her mouth with both hands.


Tara saying yes.


Willow's throat tightened violently.


Before she could fully lose composure, Willow snapped the box shut again and pressed it tightly to her chest.

AWWWW! I'm looking forward to the proposal!

Maybe I'm wrong, but I have a hunch it might turn out as a mutual proposal, considering this part of the conversation between Tara and Willow:

“You must be working on something good.”


Tara’s eyes were downcast.


“It’s hard to know when it’s perfect.”


“Does it have to be?” Willow asked softly.


Tara exhaled slowly.


“This one? Yeah.”

I immediately thought that this "project" that has to be perfect might be Tara's own plan for a marriage proposal. If so, I'm wondering if Tara will go to Ira (and Sheila?) to ask for his / their blessing too.

[Laragh]

Will's redemption —

Dibs!

I'm really happy about Willow's resolve to propose to Tara and her decision to ask for Kimberly's blessing first.

So cute how she just "restarted" the whole visit once she remembered what she planned to say, and what a lovely declaration ist was

Willow has grown so much over the last few years, I thought it was important for her to do this 'right'.

I wasn't impressed by Kimberly just walking out of the room and leaving Willow in doubt (she could have said something like "Oh sweetie, of course you have my blessing, will you excuse me for just a minute?") That aside I loved that Kimberly gave Willow her mother's ring to use as the engagement ring and how she helped Willow develop her plan for the proposal and overcome her fear that Tara might refuse her.

But that would have ruined the comedy

I always felt that Kimberly loved Willow and treated her like a second daughter, so I'm not surprised she accepts her as her daughter in law.

She has, Willow's parents made sure of that!

AWWWW! I'm looking forward to the proposal!

Maybe I'm wrong, but I have a hunch it might turn out as a mutual proposal, considering this part of the conversation between Tara and Willow:

I immediately thought that this "project" that has to be perfect might be Tara's own plan for a marriage proposal. If so, I'm wondering if Tara will go to Ira (and Sheila?) to ask for his / their blessing too.

*opens and closes mouth* you will have to read and see!

Thank you so much for your feedback!

---

Update Directly Below

[Laragh]

---

The Best Laid Plans

---

Why Am I Feelin’ So Nervous When
Things Are Goin’ So Perfect?
Yeah But I Know That It’s Worth It To
Spend Forever With You

Willow snuck her head around her bedroom door and looked into the living area.


“Sally?” she whispered as if they weren’t the only two in the apartment. “C’mere.”


Sally didn’t look away from where she was sitting on the couch, doodling in her D&D notebook.


“No.”


Willow pouted.


“Please?”


Sally turned so her back was more to Willow and drew on her knees.


“No, you’re being weird.”


“Aren’t I always weird?” Willow asked.


“Which makes this phenomenally weird,” Sally intoned in a bored tone.


“Nice vocab,” Willow replied, then gnawed lightly on her lip. “I need to show you something.”


Sally looked over her shoulder with her eyes slightly bulging.


“For the last time, I KNOW you held a koala, and I don’t care! I got a selfie with a red panda! We’ve all seen exotic bears, Willow!”


Willow bounced with frustration and took a long, conspiring look around before hurrying over to sit beside Sally.


Sally gave her a deeply pained look until Willow presented something between them. Sally looked down and saw an open ring box with a vibrant red stone shining out. Willow beamed from ear to ear.


“I’m gonna ask your sister to marry me.”


Sally stared.


And stared and stared.


Just as Willow was trying desperately not to snap the box closed and go throw up, Sally looked up with the biggest smile Willow had ever seen on her face.


“That is disgusting,” she said, unexpectedly throwing her arms around Willow. “She’s going to be so happy.”


Willow was stunned, and it took her a moment to return the hug.


“You think?”


Sally’s head bobbed excitedly.


“Yeah, she’s frickin’ nuts because who’d wanna marry you, but yeah.”


It was said with such glee that Willow barely registered the insult.


“No one knows except Tara’s mom. You have to keep it a secret, okay? But I need your help.”


Sally put her hand forward.


“I’m in.”


Willow put her hand on top and smiled.


It was on.

---

Operation ‘Mrs. Dorks’, as Sally had lovingly dubbed it, was all going according to plan.


They were going to Sunnydale for Tara’s birthday, so they would have ‘babysitters’ and Willow could carry out a traditional birthday surprise.


Tara just had no idea how much of a surprise she was in for.


Kimberly had been right that the French restaurant was too cliché and Mr. Smith’s Pizza was way too casual, so she’d picked one of the few other options and made reservations at Ruby’s, which was at least the best happy-medium restaurant you could get in Sunnydale.


Ruby’s occupied the comfortable middle ground between casual and upscale. The ruby-red neon sign outside had one perpetually flickering letter that nobody seemed interested in fixing. Inside were deep burgundy booths, little glass table lamps, and framed photographs of old Hollywood that shared wall space with Sunnydale High football memorabilia. It wasn’t fashionable enough to intimidate anyone, nor casual enough to feel ordinary.


Just warm, safe, reliable.


It was exactly the kind of place you could take someone for their birthday and make them feel special without immediately making them suspect a ring was hidden in the dessert. The mood would stay warm and comfortable instead of indicating the grand romantic gesture that was coming.


And that was exactly the vibe Willow wanted.


Not that she was doing the ring in the dessert, though. Kimberly had already warned her off, but Willow wasn’t keen anyway. Too hackneyed, but also too many risks.


Sending the dessert to the wrong person, losing the ring in the process, or worse, accidental swallowing.


Willow was nervous enough without imagining doing the Heimlich maneuver in the middle of her proposal.


This was where her Maclay girls came in, and she fully considered Sally a Maclay, regardless of what any birth certificate happened to say. While they strolled home and Willow waxed lyrical about all the ways she loved Tara, Kimberly and Sally would be setting up the candles in the backyard.


Willow had already ordered the Extra Flamey ones.


Enough to spell out ‘Marry Me?’ inside a heart, words Willow would time perfectly with their arrival.


Sunset was at 6:22 PM, and civil twilight would end at 6:47 PM, giving Willow a 25-minute window to arrive and get down on one knee in the best lighting conditions. Five o’clock wasn’t exactly prime dining time, but prime dining wasn’t the point.


She’d timed everything.


Twelve-minute walk home if Tara stopped to admire flowers.


Nine if she didn’t.


Sally and Kimberly needed fifteen minutes to light the candles. There had been practice runs. There was a contingency for wind. Even ‘Ruby’s’ was a subtle nod to what kind of ring Tara was about to have on her finger.


Willow had the ring; she had a plan. Now all she needed was that last bit of moxie to give her the confidence to do it.


Her fingers tapped the steering wheel somewhere between Summerland and Montecito as Sally blew their ears out with her command of the playlist. Every so often, her phone would ping with a new message, and she’d frown.


She was aware of how utterly selfish she sounded when she thought it, but could her friends have picked a better time for their lives to implode?


It was either Xander cycling through despair at throwing his relationship away or disingenuous pep at going out to play the field. Buffy seemed to be gung-ho about being his wingman, and Willow received many drunken videos to prove it. And though 2am was when Xander became his most misanthropic self, Buffy went radio silent until the next day, when her messages would turn into self-recrimination or reproach of her actions the night before.


It filled Willow with so much guilt and regret, the last two things she needed while planning one of the most magical days of her life.


It was true she’d kind of been the glue that kept their little trio together, and though Buffy and Xander clearly had their own friendship now, they didn’t seem to be the best influence on each other. Maybe they needed Willow’s reliable dog-geyser-person self to keep them all on track.


She’d up and left for her own selfish love, and now two of the people she loved most were falling apart.


How was she supposed to celebrate while that was happening?


All of this turmoil had, of course, not gone unnoticed by Tara. Willow was physically present but emotionally elsewhere, and Tara had somewhat felt she had half a girlfriend for the past few weeks.


Even in the car ride alone, Willow had forgotten what Tara had said twice, glanced at the notifications lighting the screen more than usual, even when it was dubiously safe, and had this awful glint of guilt in her eye that Tara hadn’t seen since high school.


When she saw new messages show up again, accompanied this time with a definitive brow furrow, Tara reached across the car and tucked some hair behind Willow’s ear.


Willow nearly jumped out of her skin and swerved an inch, but it was an empty road, so she recovered quickly.


“Whoa, baby,” Tara said in a calming voice, moving her hand to grip Willow’s shoulder.


“Rollercoaster car!” Sally called out from the back and started cackling to herself.


Tara gently rubbed Willow’s upper arm.


“A bit noisy up there?”


Willow’s heart was still hammering as she recovered. She glanced into the rearview mirror at the backseat.


“As much as I love Lana Del Rey, she’s going to Lana Del Flay my eardrums in a minute.”


Tara looked over her shoulder.


“Switch to earbuds, please. And turn it down. If I can hear it through the earbuds, it’s too loud.”


Sally rolled her eyes but complied and bopped quietly to herself in her seat.


Tara turned back to Willow.


“This is supposed to be a weekend off, sweetie. I think this shoulder is composed solely of knots.”


Willow shifted her tight shoulders uncomfortably.


“Just want to…fit everything in. Check in with the guys with everything going on. Oh, and um, your birthday.”


Selfishly, Tara wasn’t thrilled that her birthday came second, but she’d never say that.


“There’s time,” she reassured softly instead. “It’s a holiday weekend.”


Willow nodded quickly.


“Right. No need to be in a big furry hurry.”


Tara frowned.


“Are you still worried about Buffy and Xander going out every night? I know it’s not ideal but–”


“Tara, I’m fine, okay, I…” Willow paused and took a deep breath. “I just have a lot on my mind, and it’s racing at Willow speed right now. I just need things to settle, okay?”


Tara turned and looked out her window.


“Okay, Willow.”


By the time they arrived, the tension between them wasn’t expressed through anger but through distance. A distance that had been encroaching since Tara overheard Willow talking with Xander for the fifth time in one day, and then shut the door when she saw Tara glance in.


It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, but Tara remembered being hidden all through their adolescence, and it felt like she was being cut out of that part of Willow’s life all over again.


It was late when they got to Sunnydale, but Willow still surprised Tara by saying she’d promised to meet Buffy and Xander at the Bronze.


This put Tara in a difficult position as she felt obliged to go see Anya in return, and so she spent her night talking her friend out of various schemes involving harming Xander, wondering to herself if they weren’t all a bit too grown for all of this.


Tara was asleep when Willow came home, and Tara woke up to an empty bed, though there was still an impression where Willow had been. Tara vaguely remembered waking up in the middle of the night with arms around her.


She went downstairs, where Sally was slurping up cereal at the kitchen table, and Kimberly was standing at the sink, peering out the window at the sky.


“Good morning.”


Sally started choking on her Chex, and Kimberly jumped back in shock.


“Tara! You scared me!”


Tara’s eyes flitted between the other two slowly.


“Sor…ry?” she said, wondering what was so shocking about such a greeting. “Is Willow here?”


Sally and Kimberly exchanged a not-so-furtive glance.


“Out,” Sally eventually said before shoveling more cereal into her mouth.


“Out?” Tara asked, arching an eyebrow.


She frowned. Why the hell was everyone acting so weird?


“I guess with her friends?” Kimberly replied as she started to hum and busy herself by hiding behind the door of the fridge.


Tara swallowed.


“Oh.”


Guess it was too much to ask that they might spend her birthday together.


“I got you gum,” Sally offered, producing a pack from her pocket.


Tara slowly lifted it, half expecting it to shock her.


“You got me gum for my birthday?”


She was confused. It was just real gum, promising to freshen her breath.


Great.


Apparently, she had bad breath now too, and she needed to teach Sally the art of subtlety.


Suddenly, Kimberly shut the fridge a little harder than intended, and it was Tara who jumped this time, missing the ‘oh shit’ looks between Kimberly and Sally.


They were so preoccupied with what day it was, they forgot what day it was.


“I have something for you!” Kimberly announced, relieved she’d finished Tara’s gift before Willow had even told her of her plans.


She rushed off upstairs, and Tara went to pull up a chair at the table. Before she could ask Sally if she’d seen Willow before she left, Kimberly came back down, holding a giant cylindrical mess of fabric.


“Sally, help me unroll it.”


Sally pushed her bowl away and went up to Kimberly. Together, they rolled out what was a patchwork quilt with all kinds of colors and designs, some of which Tara recognized from old clothing, and right in the middle were two mermaids, one redhead, one brunette.


“Oh wow, that is…” Tara said, taking it all in.


Some might say tacky, but Tara only had one word.


“Beautiful.”


“Forgive me for not wrapping it,” Kimberly replied with a shy smile. “I’ve been putting it together for a while now.”


“You made it?” Tara asked, though of course that was obvious on reflection.


Kimberly lowered her hand and went to cup Tara’s cheek.


“With all my love for my baby girl,” she said, smiling toward Tara’s eyes. “I hope you don’t think the mermaids are too silly. They played The Little Mermaid for the residents at work a few weeks back, and I had such flashbacks to you and Willow watching it over and over.”


“It’s incredibly sweet,” Tara smiled and stood up to hug her mother.


“Uh, guys?” Sally’s muffled voice came as Kimberly had dropped her corner of the quilt and accidentally buried Sally underneath.


There was a small laugh between mother and daughter, and they helped free Sally and rolled the quilt back up.


“Sit,” Kimberly ordered when they’d left it on the arm of the couch. “I’ll make you birthday pancakes.”


Sally looked contrite.


“I made you something too. But I forgot it at home.”


“That’s okay, sweetie,” Tara reassured softly.


Sally looked like she had a sudden brainwave.


“I have a photo!”


She pulled her phone from her pocket and scooted around to show Tara. On screen was a small figure with rounded arms and legs, dressed in something similar to what Tara had in her closet.


“It’s a little ‘you’ with all the leftover pieces of felt from the DJ Tarot patches you didn’t want to throw out,” she said, clearly proud. “I used the machine like you showed me. See the edges? It was Willow’s idea to use googly eyes. Did you know she has a personal stash on her at all times?”


She sighed dramatically.


“And I made a Willow one too so you could be together.”


She showed Tara a similar Willow in a requisite fuzzy sweater, which the felt was actually perfect for.


“I love those.” Tara hugged Sally sidelong before glancing toward the front door. “Shame we’re not together right now.”


Sally suddenly paused.


“Oh!” she said, her eyes glancing furtively at Tara’s hands. “Your nails.”


Tara looked up.


“What about them?”


Sally froze.


Kimberly slowly looked over.


Sally recovered with visible effort.


“They’re…not painted.”


Tara curled her fingers to look at her nails.


“…no?”


Sally leaned forward eagerly.


“Well…they could be. I mean, you painted them on your birthday last year.”


Had she?


Tara looked down at her hands self-consciously.


“Yeah, I guess.”


Sally smirked at Kimberly, who gave her a sly wink.


Tara was still looking at her hands.


After breakfast, while Sally was raiding the bathroom cabinet and Kimberly washed the dishes, Tara spread the quilt over her lap.


She found herself tracing the tiny stitches around one of the mermaids.


Willow would love this.


The thought arrived automatically, then another followed.


If she were here.


She checked her phone, but there was nothing.


After a moment, she smiled anyway. Willow was probably planning something. Willow always spoiled her on her birthday, so she had to be planning something.


Right?


She hated that the question even occurred to her.


In town, Willow was plotting her route for the tenth time.


She wasn’t really with Buffy and Xander. They were still sleeping off their hangovers, probably.


She’d practically had to dump Xander onto his couch the night before, biting back a remark about his resemblance to his father, and the last she’d seen of Buffy was riding away on the back of some dude’s motorcycle after being distracted by and hiding her phone all night.


Maybe that was all normal for ‘college kids’ (though neither Buffy nor Xander were actually enrolled), but if it was, Willow was glad her college life meant coming home to her family every night. She wasn’t sure she recognized the friends she went out with last night.


And that, of course, brought forward the guilt.


She put it to the back of her mind as she checked her watch to make sure they would make it back to the house even at the most leisurely of strolls. She’d secretly spent the last week timing Tara’s pace so she could figure out the optimum time to leave the restaurant but needed backups for her backups if she had any hope of pulling this off.


Her hand went into her jeans pocket again, palming the ring box between her fingers.


Conversely, this calmed her.


Because it made her think of Tara’s smile.


Just one more check that everything was in place and she could be home before lunch so she could spend the afternoon teasing Tara with what was to come. She even had a gift wrapped for her: an antique baby blue charm bracelet that she had bought on hire-purchase, so it was old, new, borrowed, and blue all in one.


She would pamper Tara and make her feel beautiful as they dressed for the evening, then wine and dine her at dinner, and finally make her swoon with a marriage proposal so reverently thought out and executed that she knew she was saying yes to an eternity of love.


Finally, as satisfied as she could be that everything was good to go for later, Willow made a small detour.


She had allowed herself exactly thirty extra minutes that morning.


Check on Xander.


Check on Buffy.


Go home to the love of her life.


Willow checked her watch as she climbed the porch steps to Xander’s apartment, holding a sub from the Rocket Café that she’d bought on the way.


Twenty-three minutes left.


Make sure he was alive, make sure Anya hadn’t strangled him, brief Summers stop, done.


She’d even set an alarm.


Xander answered the door with a grunt. Willow took a visible step backward.


“Whoa.”


“I’ve looked better,” Xander admitted, slicking a hand back through greasy hair.


“I’ve seen corpses with more color,” Willow muttered as she handed over the sandwich.


Xander started tearing into the sandwich like a wild animal.


Willow glanced around at the apartment in the cold light of day and started to tidy up.


“When was the last time you did laundry? On second thought, don’t answer that.”


She didn’t even have to parent the actual child she parented this much.


She glanced at her watch.


Twenty more minutes.


Maybe she could get Buffy over here and kill two birds with one stone. She kept cleaning, so at least she wouldn’t be inviting her over to a sub-frat house level disaster zone.


“You want to invite Buffy over for a game of Life? I walked by the Doublemeat Palace, and she wasn’t working, so she’s probably free.”


Unless she’s still in the bed of Mr. Motorbike.


She sent the text anyway.


“Life? Because we’re all doing so wonderfully at it,” Xander replied sarcastically, but at least used real words.


“I am, actually.” Willow stood up straight for a moment before shrinking again. “Sorry.”


“Hey, no need to hold back on the happy,” Xander grinned from the couch. “Tell me all about you and Tara getting happy.”


Willow’s face immediately flamed red.


“You’re a real jerk sometimes, you know that?”


Xander looked like he’d been slapped.


“Willow, it was just a joke,” he said, standing up and squaring his shoulders uncomfortably. “Can’t you take a joke anymore? Or did you leave your sense of humor in one of those foreign countries you traipsed around?”


Willow dropped the empty chip packet she’d just picked up.


“Traipsed around? What are you talking about?”


Xander started to splutter a little.


“You, you left! For a whole year! And then you came back just to go again. And you come back throwing your perfect little life in our faces. You’re not the same Willow I grew up with!”


“Thank god!” Willow replied, her pulse racing now. “Don’t you know how miserable I was?”


Xander reeled back at that.


“You were?”


“Yes, I–” Willow stopped, holding her hands up in front of her. “I don’t have time to offload two decades of trauma right now. I actually have something really important to do tonight.”


And she felt absolutely no desire to share it. Not because she was scared, like when she was a kid.


The opposite.


Because she wouldn’t allow her happiness to be tarnished.


“Take tonight off, Xand. Figure out whether you’re becoming the man you wanted to be…or just the one you grew up with.”


Xander’s whole body tensed.


“Ego meet dagger.”


Then silence.


Xander’s mouth opened and closed. Willow hadn’t realized until that second that she’d never actually admitted it aloud, not to him.


She had been miserable.


Terrified.


Lonely.


Every single day.


Xander looked genuinely lost.


“I…”


He rubbed the back of his neck.


“I didn’t know all that miserable stuff.”


They stared at each other for a very long moment until Willow’s watch started beeping. She glanced down.


“Shit.”


Xander sank down onto the couch, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.


“I think she really means it, Will.”


Willow looked up.


“Who?”


Xander looked at Willow like she was crazy.


“Anya.”


Willow felt a sinking feeling low in her stomach. She glanced at her watch.


Okay, I can give him five more minutes. He’s finally talking. If I leave now, he’ll just shut down again.


She sat tentatively beside him.


“Have you tried actually, I dunno, winning her back?”


Xander bristled.


His resolve quickly faded.


“Do you really think I’m my dad?”


Willow didn’t answer immediately.


She knew lying would only make this worse.


He stopped and swallowed.


“I keep hearing myself,” he admitted, meeting Willow’s eye. “Then I hear him.”


He looked afraid.


“And they sound the same.”


No Willow thought, tensing right down to her toes, Not now. Please, not today…this can’t happen today.


For her best friend, Willow reminded herself.


She had to have time.


“You’re not your Dad, Xand,” Willow reassured softly. “But…but you could be. If you don’t stop going down this road.”


Her feet were antsy. She stood, reaching for her jacket.


“Why don’t I leave you to ponder that for a while. I really have to–”


Xander didn’t look up.


“Do you think Anya’s happier without me?”


Willow closed her eyes and slowly turned back.


As she sat back down, her watch vibrated again.


Without looking, she silenced it with the side of her thumb.


The knock came before either of them could say another word.


Xander rubbed both hands over his face.


“Saved by the Buff.”


Willow answered and gave Buffy a quick sidelong hug and a ‘look’.


Buffy stopped halfway through the doorway.


“…did I interrupt something?”


She looked at Willow.


“You have your ‘I’m fixing everybody’ face on.”


“No,” Willow tried to quickly dismiss, but Xander had already flaked out on the couch.


“Yep.”


Buffy looked between them.


“…cool. Normal amount of emotional repression happening in here. Well, I have popcorn.”


Her eyes were sunken, but she was smiling, so that was something. Her muscles seemed relaxed, which wasn’t surprising given what she’d likely been up to last night, but Willow got the sense not to bring it up.


Xander motioned her over.


“Buffy gets free leftovers at work. I exploit the system.”


“It’s an unofficial benefit,” Buffy said with a sigh. “Which is something because it’s not like I get any real ones.”


“You wanna watch X-Men?” Xander suggested, as though he’d stuffed the conversation about Anya back into the box it had come from.


Willow needed to sit for a minute after the unexpected burst of emotion.


“As long as it’s Days of Future Past,” she found herself saying without even realizing.


I’ll leave after they’re settled. Once they’re okay, I’ll go.


Willow sat on the sofa, flicking away an old Cheeto, and watched the Marvel logo pop up on screen.


Buffy dropped down to sit on the other side of Willow, and they all curled up in a familiar manner.


Now this was the Buffy and Xander Willow knew. The ones who could drown their sorrows together without literally drowning themselves.


And sitting around, watching movies, throwing popcorn at each other, it was like old times. Throw in a bit of classic Scooby banter, and Willow started to relax as the tension lifted. Maybe this was it. Maybe all they needed was someone to remind them who they were. If she could just be present enough to have their backs…maybe they’d be okay again.


Without even noticing, she’d quietly stepped back into the space she’d always occupied between them.


And yeah…she missed it.


Somewhere during Wolverine’s third sarcastic one-liner, Buffy stole Xander’s popcorn.


Xander protested.


Buffy threw a handful at him.


Willow laughed.


A real laugh.


The kind that reminded her that high school wasn’t all bad. She wasn’t always terrified and miserable and lonely. Sometimes she was just the Willster.


She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding herself until that moment. Her shoulders slumped, perhaps even a knot or two unravelling.


Nobody was falling apart, and nobody was pretending.


They were just…


Them.


The Scoobies, who named themselves such after being teased about the likeness to the characters, the underdogs who found each other and bonded, the three friends who were there for each other thick and thin.


They were a part of her identity, and Willow just wished she could do a spell and fix them.


But maybe this right here was her spell. Togetherness.


When the credits finally rolled, Xander stretched, groaned dramatically, and reached for the remote.


“Apocalypse?” he asked.


Buffy shrugged.


“We’re committed now.”


Willow smiled.


“…yeah.”


For the first time in what felt like forever, things were actually easy. These were the people she wanted to share her joy with. The ones who would be excited to hear her news. This was how it should be.


Her.


Buffy.


Xander.


…


Tara.


Her heart leapt and, as if mocking her, her watch started to buzz.


She looked down with slowly dawning horror.


Upcoming – Dinner Reservation – 5:00 PM


Her stomach dropped. How many reminders had she flicked away without even realizing?


“No.”


“What?” Buffy asked.


Willow checked the time again.


The numbers didn’t change.


No…


“How has it been that long?!”


She looked around the room.


The popcorn was gone, Apocalypse was halfway through another world-ending speech, and her two best friends, finally bearing some relaxed faces, were looking at her like she was about to launch into a compare and contrast of the movies.


And then it hit.


How familiar this had all felt, because it was.


Sitting between Buffy and Xander.


Keeping the peace.


Making sure everyone else was okay.


And neglecting Tara in the process.


“Oh, my God.”


“What?” Buffy asked again.


“It’s Tara’s birthday,” Willow said in an echoing voice.


Silence.


“I’ve been here…”


She looked back at her watch.


“…all day.”


Then panic.


“SHIT!”


She rocked forward.


“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”


She jumped up and ran around the coffee table.


“I have to go!”


“Chill out, it’s still early!” Xander said, throwing a piece of popcorn at her jovially.


“It’s Tara’s birthday!” Willow repeated, then grabbed her head in horror. “GOD, it’s Tara’s birthday, and I’ve been gone all day, and I’m going to propose tonight, and we have reservations, and I have to GO!”


Buffy and Xander’s heads flew toward each other, then back at Willow.


“Back up to that second last thing?” Buffy asked with wide eyes.


Willow made a beeline for the door.


“I have to go!”


She ran like she had never run before.


It wasn’t supposed to go like this. She was supposed to be home before Tara could even tell she was gone, but her head was so cluttered in trying to balance all of the relationships in this town that she’d now be lucky to even change for dinner.


She flew through the door as soon as Kimberly answered it and pointed upstairs to indicate where Tara was.


“Willow–”


“Everything is still a-go!” Willow called back in a loud whisper while ascending the stairs.


Willow paused outside Tara’s bedroom to catch her breath, then did a single knock and walked in.


Tara was lying on her bed, looking up at the ceiling, but sat up when the door opened.


“Willow.”


“Tara,” Willow replied, quickly coming over to sit next to her. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been here all day. I had to do some stuff, and then I went to check on the guys, and I-I guess I just lost track of time.”


Her phone buzzed and fell out of her pocket at that moment.


She looked at it.


Another message chain lighting up. Xander or Buffy, unsurprising but also annoying.


Tara finally spoke.


“Will.”


Willow blinked.


“Hm?”


“You’ve been gone all day.”


The words weren’t sharp, which somehow made them worse.


Willow looked down at the bed, guilt eating her alive.


“I know. I’m sorry.”


“I know,” Tara answered, then leaned back against the wall, watching her carefully. “What’s going on?”


Willow quickly shook her head.


“Nothing.”


Tara paused.


“Is this because of Buffy?”


Willow hesitated.


Tara nodded.


“Okay.”


Willow’s face scrunched in discomfiture.


“No…”


“Is it Xander?” Tara prompted again. “Both?”


Willow looked away.


Tara swallowed.


“Is it us?”


Willow looked horrified.


The color drained from her face.


“Us?”


Like the thought had never even occurred to her.


“No, god no! Can we just–can we just forget and start over?”


It worked with Kimberly.


“Nothing is wrong,” she repeated, more to herself.


Tara looked down sadly.


“You are genuinely terrible at lying.”


Willow huffed out a weak laugh.


“Lied to myself for years.”


Normally, that would’ve broken the tension.


This time it didn’t. Silence stretched through the room until Tara spoke again.


“Did something happen?”


“No,” Willow shook her head, a vein in her forehead bulging in frustration.


Could they just stop talking about everyone else? Didn’t Tara know today was supposed to be all about her?


No, you idiot. Because you made it all about them.


“Is everybody okay?” Tara prompted again.


Willow tried to speak but was too overwhelmed.


Tara caught it.


The screen lit up between them.


SCOOBIES (12)

XANDER (7)

BUFFY (5)


Tara reached over and gently took the phone from Willow’s hands. She didn’t read them. She simply turned the phone face down.


“They’re going to survive ten minutes.”


Willow closed her eyes as her breath and words caught in her throat. Tara took both sets of Willow’s hands and held them firmly.


“Hey,” she said quietly. “Look at me for a second.”


Willow did.


Tara’s expression softened immediately.


No anger, just concern, and that almost broke Willow.


“You’re carrying everybody again.”


Willow swallowed hard.


“I’m trying not to.”


“I know,” Tara breathed.


The understanding in Tara’s voice almost undid Willow immediately.


That was the problem with Tara.


She understood things before Willow could even explain them.


“I just…” Willow rubbed tiredly at her face. “Everybody’s having such a hard time lately and…”


She couldn’t say the rest. Not without dinner and flowers and candles and everything else. Trying to explain her absence filled her with shame, and she felt overpowered by it: for Tara, for her friends, for living well.


Tara nodded, giving her space.


“And we came here, and everything’s just…” Willow gestured helplessly around them. “Nice.”


There was genuine confusion in Tara’s expression then.


“Willow.”


“I know how that sounds,” Willow said quickly, all in a rush. “I don’t mean… It’s just Buffy and Xander… They need me. I…”


She could only repeat her words.


“I know how that sounds.”


Tara sighed.


“No, I don’t think you do.”


Willow laughed weakly, humorlessly. Well, she’d opened this floodgate now, and there was no putting it back in.


“They’re…just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl. Buffy’s in her bad boy phase and Xander’s life is imploding, and we’re walking around all with our lives put together and like-”


“Like you’re not allowed to have a nice weekend?” Tara asked gently.


Willow fell silent. It wasn’t about the weekend.


Tara’s face softened even further. She scooted closer on the bed until their knees touched.


“You don’t have to feel guilty for being happy.”


Willow stared down at her hands.


“I know that logically.”


Tara smiled sadly.


“Yeah. You’re great at logic.”


That almost made it worse.


Because Tara knew exactly what she meant.


Willow’s throat tightened unexpectedly.


“I just keep thinking maybe I should come back more. Then that…maybe leaving Sunnydale wasn’t the brave thing. Maybe it was abandoning people who loved me.”


She gnawed on the corner of her thumb.


“Which is a crazy thought, but it’s what goes through the ol’ Willow brain.”


Her tone begged for reassurance. Tara wasn’t sure she had it to give.


“There was always going to be something.”


Willow looked away.


“There’s always going to be somebody hurting,” Tara continued softly. “That’s part of loving people.”


Willow’s phone buzzed again against the bed between them, and Willow shoved it into her pocket.


Tara reached for Willow’s hand as she took it back out. Willow gently played with Tara’s fingers.


“Your nails are pretty,” she said as she admired the bright red paint, finding herself twisting around Tara’s ring finger.


She pulled away quickly lest she give herself away.


“You don’t have to earn your happiness, you know,” Tara said quietly. “You deserve it just because.”


She reached over to touch Willow’s other hand.


“You know what I think?”


Willow looked up.


“I think if Buffy knew what you were doing to yourself today, she’d tell you to knock it off,” Tara advised softly.


Willow blinked.


“And Xander?”


Tara smiled sadly.


“He’d probably make a joke I wouldn’t understand but would laugh at anyway.”


Willow laughed despite herself. Tara swallowed.


“But neither of them would ask you to stop loving me.”


“Stop loving you?” Willow asked in disbelief. “Tara, that isn’t even in my DNA.”


She looked at Tara in shock and almost blabbed right there. She started to reach into her pocket to pull out the ring, but Tara mistook it for her reaching for her phone and stood up somewhat abruptly, making Willow dip as the mattress sagged.


“You always make me feel special, Willow,” Tara said, her voice cracking slightly as she looked at her girlfriend. “You always make me feel like I’m the most important person in the room. But today…”


She looked down.


“I didn’t feel like I was even in it.”


She hurried out of the room.


“Tara…” Willow said, then jumped up to follow. “Tara!”


She ran out the front door as Willow got to the last step. Willow held her head in her hands, her heart beating in a fast, odd rhythm. Her brain was working in a similar manner.


She was trying so hard to protect her happiness from her friends’ pain that she accidentally sacrificed the happiness itself.


Kimberly and Sally’s heads popped around the doorframe from the living room.


Willow leaned against the railing. The words scraped out of her throat.


“Well, there I go Willow-ing it all up again!”


The front door slammed.


Silence.


Willow stood frozen. Kimberly didn’t speak. Sally didn’t either.


Willow slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out the ring box.


She sank onto a step and opened it, the ruby catching the afternoon sunlight.


Hours. Days. Weeks.


Asking Kimberly. Planning the perfect proposal.


She had timed the sunset.


Measured walking speed.


Booked restaurants.


Bought candles.


Recorded twilight.


And somehow…


Somehow…


She hadn’t managed to make Tara feel loved on her birthday.


Her thumb rested against the velvet lid, but she couldn’t bring herself to close it. The ring suddenly felt impossibly heavy.


And Willow wondered whether she’d already missed the moment she’d been planning for months.