Hey all you wonderful kittens, Happy New Year!
Sorry for the dreadful delay in updating, but here's the next chapter in The Wish of Three Hearts. Thanks to everyone who has left feedback and encouragement, it gives me the energy and dedication to continue!
Maggie--Congrats on the dibs streak! I'm glad you enjoyed the lovin' and learning to count!
I hope you'll enjoy this next chapter too!
BuffyFan4ever--I'm psyched that you're still enjoying Anya. I hope the shift in pacing and mood isn't throwing things off, I want it to feel like a natural result of the horrendous obstacles they've just overcome...And sorry again for the wait...
WR/TM--I love the
I
in reply.
KioNewgo--Thanks so much for the high praise!
I really try to blend the sexy and tender with Willow and Tara because I feel like their deep and abiding love will always shine through no matter how voracious they're feeling.
And thanks for your thoughts on Anya and Dawn. I really adore Anya, it'll be interesting dealing with her demon nature...and as for Dawn, yeah, i always thought she should've been given more time for fear and grief, she's just a kid, you know?
Zampsa1975--Thanks for reading and giving feedback! I'm glad about the blood balm too!
vampyregurl73--Thank you so much for your words of appreciation, they mean a lot! I'm glad you mentioned the moment where Tara finds Willow staring out the window, I think it's important for Willow to still have this little piece of fear, grief connected to that other life, like an old love letter she carries in her pocket.
Finey_McFine--Thank you!
I'm glad you're enjoying these bonding moments for Willow and Tara, you're right, they definitely need this space to recover from everything that's happened.
Laragh--You're reading it, you're reading it!
love_2003--Glad you're back, I hope you'll keep reading!
vazy--No worries, you didn't get too far behind.
xlaurax1--A special thanks to you for the encouragement. Sometimes it's really difficult to find time to write and post, but it's totally worth it when you know folks are out there rooting for you and looking forward to more!
UPDATE DIRECTLY BELOW:
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• Title - The Wish of Three Hearts (Part Two: The War)
• Author name – LonelyTara
• Email Address -
9kodama@gmail.com
• Rating - PG to NC-17
• Disclaimer - There will be happiness, there will be angst, and our girls will be happy, never fear. All of this belongs to Joss Whedon et al, I'm just borrowing, please don't sue.
• Feedback-Please, please!
• Summary- This is a semi-AU fic. Part 1 begins post S7 and bounces back to S6, where the power of the Ter Sis Animi allows Willow to save Tara's life. She pays a heavy price for this boon, and the lovers are reunited. But in a world with so much evil, new threats will arise...and so we continue Part 2.
• Notes- Thanks to everyone who will read. Some lines come from BtVS.
Chapter Seventeen
The bed was shaking. Willow tried to roll over, to be closer to Tara, and banged her elbow on a hard, plastic object.
In the bed, Willow thought dimly,
the earthquake knocked something off the wall and into the bed.
“Tara, baby,” Willow groaned. “Careful, the tremor knocked something down with us.”
“Tremor?” Tara asked.
Willow struggled out of sleep. Tara was amused. She could hear the laughter in her lover’s voice, like sparkles of light. But earthquakes weren’t funny—they were serious, especially if things were falling into their bed.
“It’s an earthquake, baby,” Willow said solemnly, rubbing her eyes. “Something fell into the bed. Don’t wiggle. No more bumps for my baby.”
There was another rumble and Tara giggled. “There’s no earthquake, Will.”
“It’s rumbling right now,” Willow pouted, eyes still closed.
“We’re taxiing, love,” Willow felt a kiss pressed to her hair. “We’re on an airplane, remember?”
Willow’s eyes snapped open. Tara was looking down at her, grinning that perfect, crooked smile. There was a thin blue blanket draped over the pair of them, and Willow saw a matching pillowcase corner pressed against Tara’s peaches and cream skin. Which meant—
“We’re on a plane?’ Willow asked. She reached beneath her head and pulled the pillow away, snuggling into the warmth of Tara’s shoulder.
“We’re on a plane,” she agreed softly, wrapping her arms around Willow and kissing her hair again. “That Dramamine really kicked your butt, huh?”
Willow felt a blush creep into her cheeks. “I’m sorry I got sick,” she told Tara, her stomach clenching as the plane gave a little lurch.
A few hours into the flight they’d been offered drinks and sandwiches. Fifteen minutes after that Willow had become acquainted with her sandwich and grape soda again, under far less pleasant circumstances.
“Your tummy still bothering you, love?” Tara asked, reaching out to stroke Willow’s stomach.
“I think I’m sore from the hurl-a-thon,” Willow said miserably.
“Do you want me to stop?” Tara stilled her hand.
“No,” Willow said quickly, pressing her lover’s hand in place. “You make it better.” There was an ache in her chest that had nothing to do with her bout of motion sickness. “You make everything better,” Willow whispered, blinking back tears.
“I’m right here, Willow,” Tara replied. She let her hand begin its gentle motion again. Willow looked so small, so frightened, that Tara couldn’t bare it. She reached down and unclipped Willow’s seatbelt, pulling the slender witch into her lap. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I love you, Tara,” Willow breathed, curling against the blonde’s body and burying her face in the girl’s crook of the girl’s neck. “Love you so much.”
“I love you too.” They were jostled a bit as the plane turned ponderously. Willow gave a little squeak. “We’re almost to the terminal. The plane’ll stop rocking in a minute, love.”
“I should have my seatbelt on, shouldn’t I?” Willow asked. “You’re going to get in trouble if the stewardess sees us.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Tara laughed, pulling Willow closer. “Goddess help any flight attendant who tries to interrupt my snuggle time.”
“I’m in love with a rebel,” Willow teased, leaning back to grin at Tara. “When did you become such a rebel?”
“I must’ve gotten it from Buffy,” Tara deadpanned, planting a kiss on Willow’s cheek. “Can you catch rebel?”
“It must be so,” Willow replied, turning her head to capture Tara’s lips. When they parted both girls were smiling. “Remind me to thank her when I see her.”
At the thought of her absent friend, Willow felt a spike of worry. She pressed her forehead against Tara’s, basking in the warmth of her.
“It won’t be long,” Tara soothed, rubbing her hand on Willow’s back to help ease the tension she’d felt roll through her lover. “They’ll be in the air in a few hours.”
“Kay,” Willow breathed.
The plane gave one last lurch and then the pilot’s voice came over the loudspeaker, announcing their arrival at the terminal. All the other passengers around them hopped to their feet, pulling down luggage and scurrying towards the exit into the airport.
“There’s no rush,” Tara said gently, pulling Willow closer when she felt the redhead stir. “Giles was almost two-thirds of the way down the plane, remember?”
“The old softie,” Willow giggled.
Upon their arrival at the Santa Barbara airport, Giles had advised them that he could only get two first-class seats. The watcher had ignored both offers and protests, insisting that Willow and Tara take the first-class seats so they could be together. That left him sandwiched in a center seat between two perfect strangers.
“It was nice of him,” Tara corrected, rocking Willow gently. “He cares about you, Willow. He just wants you to be happy.”
“He loves you too, you know,” Willow said firmly, looking her girlfriend in the eye. “You’re one of his little Scoobies too.”
“I know,” Tara soothed.
When the front of the cabin had emptied out, Willow reluctantly climbed out of Tara’s lap so they could leave the plane. They’d checked their shared suitcase, so Tara’s messenger bag—a small, khaki, army-surplus satchel she’d festooned with beads and ribbon remnant—was the only thing they carried on with them. The little bag held their passports, identification, and traveler’s checks, so Tara wore it slung over her neck, cradled next to her body.
“Come on, Willow,” she said, holding out a hand and leading her love out of first class and off the plane.
As soon as they entered the tunnel connecting the plane to the terminal, both women shivered. A cold, biting wind slipped through the gaps in the accordion-creased structure.
“Welcome to England,” Giles announced. The watcher stood a few feet away, leaning against the wall. “We can look for coats or sweaters for the both of you in the gift shops past the terminal. In the meanwhile we really should get a move on.”
“Will any of the shops be open yet?” Tara asked, taking Willow’s hand and failing into step next to Giles as they headed into the terminal.
“I’d forgotten how late it is,” Giles answered, pulling out a pocket watch to check the time. “Or how very early, I suppose, with the time change. Half past ten California time, so it’s only 6:30 in the morning. Well, some of the shops are bound to be open twenty-four hours. We’ll have to hope they sell coats.”
“I’ll keep you warm,” Willow said in a whisper, wrapping her arm around Tara’s waist.
Tara gave Willow a little squeeze, brushing her hand over the redhead’s side as they strolled into the main thoroughfare. Even with the late hour, the airport was bustling with people. Little clusters formed and parted as travelers queued for coffee and sandwiches, taking turns guarding luggage for loved ones who needed to use the restroom.
It was Willow’s first time in the London airport. The memories of her first visit were thick, fogged. She remembered being taken from a charter jet to a helicopter waiting on the runway, the roar of the propellers dimmed by Giles’ stony silence.
It won’t happen, Willow thought.
It never happened now.
Willow pushed the thought aside and eyed the coffee shop, wondering if she could convince Giles and Tara to let her stop long enough for a mocha. Now that they were back on solid ground her stomach was beginning to realize how long ago breakfast at the Summers house had been. Her stomach growled and she clapped her free hand over it, trying to muffle the noise.
“You okay, Will?” Tara asked.
“A little hungry,” Willow replied sheepishly.
Tara stopped in her tracks. “We can’t have that.”
Giles took a few steps before he realized Tara and Willow were no longer beside him. He gave a bemused grin and shook his head as he watched the blonde witch lead her red haired lover into the coffee line.
“Are we taking a break already?” He asked, walking up to them.
“Willow’s hungry,” Tara replied. “She hasn’t had any food since we left this morning, she needs to eat.”
“Well I had food,” Willow said quickly, noticing the puzzled look on the watcher’s face. “But it didn’t stay, if you catch my meaning.”
“Quite,” Giles murmured, pulling out a handkerchief to clean his glasses. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. “Let’s eat and then get going, please?”
“Sure,” Willow said softly. He walked over to the tables set up in front of the shop and sat. She looked over at Tara and saw her casting a nervous glance the watcher’s way. “It’s okay, he just wants to get to the coven.”
“He’s scared, Willow,” Tara replied.
“It’s been a scary few days,” Willow said, pressing still closer to Tara. She could feel the weight of the years she’d lived without Tara like a coal in her stomach. She didn’t want to think about that possible future, but knew that Giles was thinking of nothing else. Sooner or later she would have to tell them, tell them all that the world was about to end. Again.
“Willow?”
The concern in Tara’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. “Baby?” Willow asked, looking into her lover’s worry-darkened eyes.
“I asked if you wanted peanut butter and jelly or egg salad?” Tara asked, holding up two different pre-packaged sandwiches.
“Definitely peanut butter,” Willow replied.
Tara bought three sandwiches—two peanut butter and jellies, and a ham and cheese for Giles. Willow ordered the drinks, a mocha for the red head, a large earl grey for Giles, and a hot chocolate for her lover. When the drinks were ready, they put everything onto a tray and joined Giles at the table.
“Thank you, girls,” the watcher told them, taking the offered food and drink. “You were sure to use the travelers checks?”
Tara nodded, taking a bite of her sandwich and chasing it with a long sip of hot chocolate.
“Best airport food that watcher council funds can buy,” Willow said, taking a drink from her steaming cup. “Mmm, mocha.”
“Yes I’m sure they’ll be happy to buy coats and our rental car as well,” Giles said with a tense smile. “Eat up.”
Tara finished half of her sandwich and then set the other half aside, watching Willow and Giles eat. They could’ve been father and daughter with the matching worried furrows that lined their brows. They both had circles under their eyes as well. As she watched, Willow stretched with a huge yawn before taking another bite of her sandwich.
“Giles,” Tara said softly, coming to a sudden decision. “Can we stay in London tonight?” Her hands trembled, clasping the warm cup of hot chocolate.
The watcher’s eyes widened and he sputtered a bit on his tea. “We really do need to get to Devon, Tara.”
Willow could hear the clear concern in both their voices. She kept her gaze on the sandwich in her hands, but didn’t take another bite, instead taking a long deep breath so her stomach wouldn’t begin to roil again.
“I’m t-tired,” Tara explained, groaning inwardly at the stutter that marred her speech. “I think it would b-be better for us to rest for a day or t-two, recover our strength.”
“Tara,” Giles began, failing to hide the hint of impatience in his voice. “I don’t—”
“Please,” Willow interrupted. She looked up from the sandwich and into the watcher’s blue-gray eyes. “Just give us a day, Giles. We’ll rest, and we can pretend to be tourists for a few hours.”
Pretend to be normal for a few hours, she thought sadly.
Giles looked between them both for a moment, and then nodded. “Of course,” he said softly. “Of course. Forgive me; you’ve both been through so much. It’ll be fine to take a day—you’ll need your strength for the coven’s training. It gets a bit…” he trailed off.
“It gets intense,” Willow finished, giving Tara’s hands a reassuring squeeze.
“Intense, yes,” Giles replied. “While you two look for coats I’ll find us a hotel and call the coven to let them know about the change in our itinerary.”
“Thank you, Giles,” Tara murmured, a little smile brightening her face.
“Of course you’re welcome, dear girl, but please accept my apologies.” Giles pulled off his glasses and began to polish them furiously. “I should’ve have pushed you both so hard. I must confess, being in London is a bit unsettling for me. Reminders of…the old days.”
The Ripper days, Willow thought. “Maybe we should just go—” She knew what it was like to have to look your demons in the face, watch them laughing back at you. Willow didn’t want to put Giles through that.
“No, I insist,” Giles said firmly. “We’ll rest tonight, you two can see the sights tomorrow, and then by the time we settle in for a second’s night rest Buffy and the others will have joined us.”
“We can all go to the coven together,” Tara said, gripping Willow’s hand.
“That would be nice,” Willow sighed. She took another long swallow of mocha and attacked her sandwich with renewed vigor.
Willow finished her food and bought a second mocha before Tara and Giles finished their food. When their sandwiches were done, they continued on towards the shops, nursing their drinks. In the end, they only found two places open. The first shop had jewelry and a small section of new and rare books, much to Giles’ delight. After a few minutes searching, they found a knee-length wool Burberry coat with military buttons that fit Tara like a glove. The only other cold-weather gear they had for women was a heavy, hand-knit gray sweater.
And suddenly Willow was sitting on the moor, windswept and freezing, working to feel the pull of the earth, the life flowing through it, as she called a flower through the ground. The warmth, the peace of that life force had still not been enough to fill the cold emptiness that Tara’s loss had left behind. Nothing ever had.
“Not this one,” Willow said quickly, sliding the sweater back onto the rack. “I don’t like it.”
“Well, that just leaves…” Tara trailed off, hitching a thumb over her shoulder.
“I know,” Will replied, forcing a smile. “Thank goodness I like Disney.”
“I don’t know why they have a Disney store in a London airport anyway,” Tara said, slipping on her new coat while the cashier processed their check.
“It’s a mystery,” Willow agreed, murmuring her thanks to the cashier as she took Tara’s hand and led her toward the exit.
“We’ll be back in a minute, Giles,” Tara called, looking back over her shoulder.
“Take your time,” the watcher replied. He was pouring through a large, leather bound book, looking relaxed for the first time since their arrival.
“Are you feeling okay?” Tara asked as they walked across the broad aisle toward the Disney store. “You look a little pale.”
“It’s—I’m okay.” Willow paused, sighed. “It’s just a little hard, being here.”
“Bad memories?” Tara asked, squeezing Willow’s hand gently.
She nodded. “Little reminders of…of when we weren’t together. I don’t like to think about it.”
Tara stopped them right in the middle of the walkway and pulled Willow into her arms, holding her close and kissing her on the forehead.
“We’re together, Willow.”
“Thank the goddess,” the redhead replied.
“I do, every second of every day. “Now come on,” Tara said, giving Willow’s back a caress before taking her hand and heading toward the store again. “You need something warm to wear.”
“Yes ma’am,” Willow replied, smiling as she let her soul mate lead her to the shop.
“Hello dears!” A voice said loudly and brightly as soon as the entered the store. “How can I help you this fine morning?” An older woman, brown hair streaked with gray, stepped out from a side room, smiling.
“It’s Mary Poppins!” Willow squeaked.
“It is a good likeness, isn’t it?” The clerk said cheerfully, looking down at her outfit. “You should see the young clerk they have dress as Burt. He’s a dead ringer for Dick van Dyke.”
“You’re adorable,” Tara breathed in Willow’s ear, overcome with adoration for the bouncing, childlike excitement of her soul mate. Willow blushed.
“Are you dears looking for a particular souvenir? We specialize in all the merchandise from the Disney films set in Britain. We even have one of the prop knobs from Bedknobs and Broomsticks.”
“I love that movie,” Willow said eagerly. Tara chuckled and the red head flushed again. “We were hoping you might have some jackets or sweaters?
“Hmm,” Mary Poppins said, biting her lip. “Most of our clothes are for children. It’s for you?” She asked, gesturing to Willow. When the redhead nodded the clerk clapped her hands together. “We’ll you’re such a little slip of a thing, I’m sure we can find something for you.”
“Thank you Ma—” Willow began.
I can’t call her Mary Poppins!
“The name on her tag says Ethel,” Tara murmured.
“Thank you Ms. Ethel,” Willow finished, flashing her lover a grateful smile.
“You’re both perfectly welcome,” Ms. Ethel replied. “Right this way.”
The clerk led them past a room full of porcelain figures and innumerable globes filled with various Disney characters and brilliant with sparkling flecks, into the back where the walls were lined with stuffed animals in all shapes and sizes.
“Wow,” Willow said, looking around, wide-eyed. “This must be every kid’s dream department.”
“And every parent’s nightmare,” Tara laughed, steering Willow away from a display of Flower the Skunk toys to look in the rack of clothes in the center of the room.
“It can be difficult for parents to get the little ones out of the shop,” Ms. Ethel agreed. “They do get ever so excited.”
“I can imagine,” Tara replied, looking fondly at her lover, who was still totally distracted by the plethora of toys.
After a few minutes hunting through the rack, Ms. Ethel found two lighter pieces that, together, would likely be enough to keep Willow warm and toasty. At first she protested the choice, but Tara trained those baby blues on her and she melted.
“Fine,” Willow sighed, holding out her hands. “I’ll try them on.”
“I’m sure they’ll look lovely dear,” Ms. Ethel replied, handing her the clothes with a smile. “The changing room is in the corner. You can go in with her if you’d like,” she told Tara.
“Thank you,” Tara replied, taking Willow’s arm. “Come on, sweetie.”
“Kay,” Willow said, snuggling close.
As they slipped into the dressing room, Tara leaned even closer to Willow and whispered to her, warm breath tickling Willow’s ear.
“I love you in grass green, Will. And the cream sweater will look completely adorable with it.”
“Yeah,” Willow said reluctantly. “But Tinkerbelle?” She asked, holding up the green, long-sleeved thermal shirt. A ten-inch Tinkerbelle graphic dominated the center, looking coquettishly over her shoulder between her silvery wings.
“As long as you remember your happy thought,” Tara breathed, pressing a kiss to Willow’s cheek.
“Always,” Willow said, turning her head to steal a kiss.
“Let me help you with this,” Tara said, her warm hands slipping up under Willow’s t-shirt.
“Ooh, okay,” Willow said, leaning back against her.
Tara stroked Willow’s stomach gently and then eased the t-shirt upwards, nudging the underside of the redhead’s arms so she’d lift them.
“That was quick help,” Willow said, pretending to pout even as she raised her arms above her head.
“I don’t think we can get frisky in a Disney store dressing room with Mary Poppins waiting for us outside, darling,” Tara laughed.
“I guess that’s true,” Willow replied, pulling her head through the neck of Tinkerbelle shirt. Before she could pull her arms all the way through the sleeves, Tara wrapped her arms back around Willow’s waist, pressing a kiss to the curve of her ribs.
“Yummy Willowskin,” she purred.
“Tara,” Willow squeaked, freezing. “I thought we were going to behave?”
“You’re right, you’re right,” Tara sighed, freeing Willow’s hands from her sleeves and pulling down the shirt. “How about I help you out of it later?”
“That would be good,” Willow groaned.
Both women jumped when Ethel’s voice rang through the space. “How are you making out in there, dear?”
Willow’s eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. She looked at Tara and mouthed,
she knows, a blush creeping into her cheeks.
“She just wants to know if the shirt fits, Will. We’re doing fine so f-far, thanks,” Tara called to Ethel.
“I knew that,” Willow giggled, high and breathless. “How do I look?” She asked, turning in a little circle.
“Adorable,” Tara said.
“I think it’s a little snug.”
“Like I said, adorable,” Tara quipped, running her hands over Willow’s slim waist. “Try it with the fleece.”
Willow slipped on the cream-colored jacket, plain except for a tiny silhouette of Mickey Mouse embroidered in platinum thread. It was a little loose, leaving plenty of room to zip the jacket up. She slid her hands into the pocket built into the front of the jacket.
“How does it feel?” Tara asked.
“Nice and toasty,” Willow chirruped.
“Perfect.”
They bought both pieces. Tara sent Willow back into the dressing room to change into her new clothes so she wouldn’t catch a chill on the way to their hotel. When Willow came out, Tara had a bag ready, taking her t-shirt. They offered their thanks to Ethel and headed back to the other shop.
“Very fetching,” Giles said. The watcher was leaning against the wall outside the shop, holding a plastic bag.
“Thank you,” Willow replied.
“Well, now that we’re properly kitted out, we should head to the hotel for some shuteye. Try not to sleep too terribly long, it’ll just exacerbate the jet lag.”
“Where are we staying?” Tara asked as they walked toward the baggage claim, moving carefully against the current of travelers headed toward the gates.
“The watcher’s council has been kind enough to put us up at the Mandarin Oriental in Hyde Park. It just happens to be the nicest hotel in London. $1,794 GBP per night, each, for suites overlooking the park.”
“The least they could do,” Willow chuckled.
“Indeed,” Giles agreed.
The trio made their way to the baggage claim and picked up Willow and Tara’s suitcase, then Giles led them out to where a private car was waiting. Willow and Tara exchanged tired but amused glances, both knew Giles must be delighting in spending as much watcher council money as he could get away with on their journey. The driver, a quiet, polite, elderly man took them to the hotel with smooth and speedy precision. The early morning traffic was hectic, but the driver seemed to know every back road through the city.
A half dozen red-coated doormen in top hats were waiting outside when they arrived, moving around them in a blur, opening doors and offering hands of assistance that were politely declined all around. They agreed, in the end, to let one of the anxious men take their luggage, while another ran ahead to call the elevator. A third man, after a brief, murmured conversation with Giles, led the trio through the hotel to their rooms. Giles had the first suite, overlooking the hotel’s courtyard. It was a palatial, open space with two separate seating areas, a kitchen, dining table for two, and an enormous king-sized bed.
“Wow, Giles,” Willow breathed, “Nice digs.”
“Yes, I suppose they are…nice digs,” he replied wryly. He threw his trench coat onto the dining room table and locked the suite. “I’ll come with you to make sure you’re settled in.”
Willow gave Giles a grateful smile, knowing that the watcher wanted to make sure he could find them in case of any natural or supernatural emergency. The hallway they traveled had its bends and turns, but no main branches off the paths as they approached the far side of the hotel.
“Your suite, ladies,” the hotel representative said with a bow, stopping in front of a door even more ornate than the one to Giles’ room. The watcher took the suitcase with a word of thanks, and the bellman held out a plastic key card.
Tara took the key from the man’s hand, slipping it into the lock and opening the door.
“Please do let us know if there’s anything else you need,” the bellman told Giles.
“Yes, thank you. That will be all for now.” The bellman dipped his head and walked quickly back down the hall. “Aren’t you going to open it?” Giles asked Willow and Tara bemusedly.
Tara gripped Willow’s hand and gave the door a push. Both young witches gave out a gasp. Giles’s room was large, even extravagant, but their suite was huge and—there was no better word for it—opulent.
“It’s the largest suite in the hotel,” Giles said, waving them into the room. They stepped inside the doorway, leaving just enough room for Giles to stop in after them and close the door.
“M-Mister Giles,” Tara began. It wasn’t a hotel room. It was a large apartment, a small house, which had been decorated in Victorian antiques. The combination of lush furniture and lighting made the room look like something out of a magazine. “Th-This is—”
“It’s not too much,” Giles said kindly. “As I’ve been recently reminded, we’ve all been through a great deal the past few days, and you deserve a bit of rest and care. I only wish I could let you stay here for a month, or a year.”
“It’s two nights more than we were expecting, Giles,” Willow said softly. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Yes, well,” he murmured, neck flushed. “As you can see, you have a dining and sitting area here. The hall to the right goes to a small kitchen with a fully stocked pantry, and the bedroom is at the end of the hall. You have a suite-wide view of Kensington Gardens. I’m sure you’ll find it enjoyable. There are robes and towels in abundance, and you should find a few sets of flannel pajamas in the closet. It’s a bit chilly this time of year to out on the balcony otherwise.”
“We have a balcony,” Willow whispered to Tara.
“I heard love,” Tara said, smiling gently.
“I’m going to head back to my room,” Giles said, taking a step backwards. “Try not to sleep past ten or eleven. I know it’s late, but otherwise the jet lag will just linger.”
“Goodnight, Giles,” Tara said. She stepped over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “And thank you again.”
“Of course, goodnight girls.”
“Night,” Willow said, waving, as Giles stepped into the hall and pulled the door closed.
“Wow,” Tara said softly, staring into the room. She slipped off her coat and tucked it under her arm. “Th-This is gorgeous, right?”
“No,” Willow replied matter-of-factly. “You’re gorgeous, but the suite is nice. Let’s take a look around.” Willow took Tara’s hand and led her off the stoop into the sitting area.
The couch and chairs looked to be Victorian antiques, high-backed and upholstered in silver-gray fabric with a dark wood trim along the back, with matching arms and legs. There was a small matching coffee table between them. Tara imagined cuddling on the sofa with Willow, teapot and porcelain cups steaming on the little, intricately carved table.
“I promise some snuggles on the sofa, later,” Willow breathed in Tara’s ear.
The blonde jumped, then grinned and gave Willow a gentle swat as the redhead smirked at her.
“I'm a mind reader, huh?” Willow teased.
“You forgot the tea,” Tara replied, taking Willow’s hand again. “You can’t snuggle properly without tea.”
“Is that a British rule?” Willow asked, tugged Tara into her arms, grabbing the coat from under her lover’s arm and tossing it onto the couch.
She nodded. “Part of the bi-laws they covered on the plane while certain gorgeous red haired women were asleep.”
“Missing my first crucial England experience,” Willow sighed, clucking her tongue. “For shame. You know what else I’ve never experienced?” She asked, pulling Tara even closer.
“What’s that?” Tara asked, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks as Willow’s hands slipped under her shirt, caressing the small of her back.
“I’ve never made love to my soul mate in London before,” Willow said, and then she gave a little gasp as Tara pulled her into a blisteringly passionate kiss. “Wow,” she whispered as the blonde leaned back.
“It was very thoughtful of Giles to get his own room,” Tara said in a low, smoldering tone.
“Speaking of which, we haven’t finished our tour,” Willow said brightly. She released Tara’s waist and took her hand again, tugging her toward the window.
“What happened to lovin’ in London?” Tara asked, sounding both puzzled and amused.
“Anticipation’s half the fun,” Willow said, pulling back the curtains with her free hand. “Would you look at that?” She asked Tara.
“Look at what?” Tara was more puzzled than ever. “You didn’t turn around, the view’s out there.” She pointed over Willow’s shoulder toward the line of moonlit trees.
“I’ve got the best view right here.” Willow leaned forward to kiss Tara, only to find herself spun toward the window.
“Anticipation, remember?” Tara said playfully, pulling Willow close from behind and kissing her cheek, her neck.
“It’s kind of pretty,” Willow said, pouting. They watched out the window for a few minutes, enjoying the beauty of the trees bowing and rustling in the wind. “Look at all the little people down there, just walking around. Hello teeny people, up before the sun.” Willow waved to the oblivious people.
“You are too adorable,” Tara groaned, spinning Willow back around and kissing her again.
“Kitchen in the morning?” Willow asked breathlessly.
“Bedroom now,” Tara agreed.
Still holding hands, the pair ran through the suite. Their bedroom was palatial, the king-sized bed covered in pillows and a rich royal blue comforter. There was a large window concealed by curtains in the same deep blue shade, tasseled and covered with embroidery. There was a large, dark wood wardrobe on one wall, and a doorway to their bedroom past that.
“Nice room,” Willow murmured.
“Are you really thinking about our hotel room right now?” Tara said with a low laugh, unzipping Willow’s fleece and tossing it onto the floor. She thrust her hands under her lover’s Tinkerbelle shirt, scratching her back lightly with her nails.
“Tara,” Willow moaned. She slipped her hands up under Tara’s shirt, unfastened her bra, and began kneading Tara’s breasts before the blonde even had time to register that her bra had been unfastened.
“Speedy Willowhands,” Tara said, gasping. “I really, really need you to be undressed right now.”
“No time,” Willow panted. She took three steps back, so that Tara ended up sitting on the bed, Willow standing between her legs.
Tara pushed her hands up under Willow’s bra, sighing with pleasure at the velvet smoothness of her lover’s skin.
“Love you, Will,” Tara whispered, and she moaned, eyes going wide, as she felt Willow’s warm, slender hand slip into her jeans, past her panties, to gently cup her mons.
“Tomorrow I’m going to have a talk with you about eating right, because you’re clearly getting too skinny if I can do that without even unbuttoning these jeans,” Willow said softly.
“But not tonight,” Tara asked plaintively.
“Not tonight,” Willow agreed solemnly, pressing her hand more firmly as Tara’s hips began to rock. “Love you, Tare.” She smiled as Tara cried out in delight, moving her hips with increasing speed.
Willow captured Tara’s mouth with her own, reveling in the soft warmth of her lips, even as she slipped her fingers up and down, mercilessly stroking. She didn’t stop, even when she felt Tara’s hands snake down to her waist, felt her own jeans unfastened and pushed to the floor with her underwear. For an instant she worried if she looked ridiculous, but the warmth of Tara’s hands brushing against her thighs left the moment quickly silenced.
And then they were rocking against each other, passionate kisses muffling their little cries of pleasure as their fingers and their hips matched pace. As soon as Willow felt Tara begin to tense and tremble beneath her touch, she dipped back and inside her lover. The clenching heat of Tara’s orgasm sent Willow over the edge too, she voiced a ragged cry as Tara sucked her lower lip between her teeth. In a few minutes they both quieted, Tara pulled Willow close and rested her head against Willow’s stomach.
“That was wonderful,” Willow sighed, kissing Tara’s hair.
“Lovin’ in London is definitely a must,” Tara said. She reached around and took Willow’s bottom in her hands, giving each cheek a squeeze, setting Willow squirming playfully. “Willowbutt,” Tara said happily.
“My cold butt. And yet I’m still in my new shirt.”
Tara smiled up at her lover, thrilled by the joy, the ease she saw in Willow’s face, so different from the frightened confusion on the plane. It was just one more example of the power of their love, a reminder of a truth Tara had always known—even in the dark days they’d been apart. Love, their love, was eternal. There was nothing they couldn’t survive, together.
“I did promise to get you out of that shirt, didn’t I?” Tara asked, standing.
“You did,” Willow replied, nodding. She smiled, her tongue sticking out between her teeth for an instant.
“Well, I’m a girl who keeps her promises.”
Tara undressed Willow slowly, lovingly, first pulling off her shoes and socks to let her pants drop to the floor, quickly followed by the Tinkerbelle shirt and her bra. When Tara was done, Willow murmured that it was Tara’s turn and quickly relieved the blonde of her clothes. They walked, naked, into the bathroom where they found a huge, sunken Jacuzzi tub. They washed one another in the warm bubbly water, and then dried off with unbelievably soft and fluffy ivory towels. Back in the bedroom they dressed in the flannels Giles had promised would be waiting, giggling at the matching lavender plaid. They piled under the comforter and layered sheets, snuggling in with Tara resting her head on Willow’s shoulder.
“Good night, baby,” Willow whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of Tara’s head.
“Night darling,” she replied, reaching up to stroke Willow’s cheek.
Tara listened to the muffled sound of Willow’s heartbeat and let her eyes drift closed. She was just on the edge of sleep, breath going deep and slow, when Willow spoke.
“Baby?” She asked in a tiny voice. “How long till their flight?”
Tara opened her eyes and gave her lover a little squeeze. “Is there a clock you can see, or should we turn on the light?”
“My phone says it’s 8:32,” Willow replied.
“Less than four hours, then,” Tara soothed, snuggling closer. “They’ll be here before you know it.”
“Good,” Willow yawned. When she spoke again her voice was quiet, hesitant. “Things…things are going to get bad in Sunnydale, Tara. Really bad, soon. They’ll be safer here.”
Tara fought the cold stab of panic she felt at Willow’s pronouncement, telling herself that they would face it—face whatever came—together. And when the whole gang, the whole family, was together again, they would all feel better. Family. The thought made Tara still, eyes going wide.
Family.
“Willow,” she said softly, rising up on one elbow to look at her lover. “If things are going to get bad, do you need to warn your parents?”
“My folks?” Willow’s voice was calm, but completely flat, her face devoid of emotion.
“Willow,” Tara said gently, reaching up to brush a lock of autumnal hair off Willow’s forehead. “I know you and your parents have never been close, but—”
“You don’t know,” she interrupted. “You don’t know how bad it got.”
Tara didn’t know what had happened between Willow and Sheila and Ira Rosenberg after her death, but she could see that the pain of it crumpling her lover’s face. As she watched, tears welled in the red haired witch’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Tara whispered, stroking Willow’s cheek. “I’m sorry that they hurt you, love.”
Willow’s eyes welled over, a tear slipping down each cheek. “They were never there, not really, so I don’t know why it would’ve been any different when—” she broke off, staring down at the bed.
“No matter what they did, it doesn’t stop you from needing them,” Tara said, smiling sadly as she thought of her own disastrous family. “I understand.”
“I guess you’re right.” Willow eyes were dry now, filled with the steely determination that Tara so adored. “But it was another life. I shouldn’t punish them for something that didn’t happen. That will never happen,” she said firmly, reaching out to cup Tara’s cheek.
Tara nodded. “We’ll keep each other safe.”
A little smile crossed Willow’s face. “Thank you, baby. I’ll call them in the morning.”
Holding each other tight, Tara sang to Willow wordlessly until they fell into a deep and dreamless slumber.
______________
Happy New Year!