Authors: Pat Kelly
Title: Part One
[Author's notes:
Disclaimer: All belongs to Joss, and whoever it also still belongs to. Like FOX.
Spoilers: S6 and 7...but shouldn't you have seen the show by now?
Note: Okay, um, those who read "An Umbrella in a Sun Shower," well recognize everything after the first two scenes. I've sort of thrown out some of the original, intended plot, but the Season 6 stuff still holds. I like this better. :-)
Title: Part Two
Buffy wanted to argue, but didn't want to spoil the moment, either. She let it go.
"You know, now that I'm mulling, s'very 'Tara.' Selfless, considerate, sweet." Buffy was most assuredly love's bitch. Thing was, she didn't find anything negative about that. Their hands found each other yet again. "But wasn't it hard to leave? Or...ooh. Was your heaven dimension defective?"Title: Part Three
[Author's notes: Kind of explicit sex scene ahead. A rarity for me, so I hope it works for people.
]
|-Outside Sunnydale, Past Rte. 17, March 2002-|
"You okay? Want me to walk you to your car?" Buffy asked the young, twenty-something who almost, unknowingly walked out of the ice-rink on a vampire's arm.
And, one would assume, on his dinner menu. Though since he'd just crumbled to dust by the front doors, there was no longer any danger of that happening. Buffy was just glad she'd managed to keep balance wearing skates on carpet, therefore allowing her to slay without the embarrassment of falling.
"No, I...I'm...it's, um, right out front." The girl blinked out of her shock. "You just saved my life, didn't you?" Before her savior could say anything, she started hugging her strongly. "Thank you."
When Buffy was let go, she smiled, uncomfortable with the attention. "Just remember--from here on in? Always do a 'pulse check' before progressing to the heavy flirting."
The girl nodded like a rapt student. She was still a little thrown, but left under her own power after giving Buffy a grateful smile. Carefully, the slayer turned back around to face her audience of rink patrons, who'd watched the whole thing. Guess being embarrassed wasn't something she could escape tonight.
"Rabies." She lied off the top of her head. "Uh, very advanced, very dusty, very worse than 'Old Yeller,' rabies. Worst in years, actually. Musta heard--can't turn on the news lately without somebody talking about it. Even that one weather guy in the morning who obviously doesn't know what a comb is." Nothing. "So...yeah. Everybody's pets have all their shots, right? 'Cause..." She looked down at the ashes, and then back up. Still nothing. "Was I the only one who paid to be in here?"
Suddenly, all were scrambling to get their money's worth, leaving Tara there all alone. She went up to Buffy and stayed close as the slayer moved to a bench, in case loss of equilibrium seemed imminent. It never was, but she assisted with sitting anyway, and then the laughter she'd been containing, burst forth.
Buffy stood by her elaborate concoction. "What? Rabies is serious. People should be wary. And didn't you see him? Extreme mouth foaminess." Tara just laughed harder, sitting down next to her. "It's amazing how much you suck." Buffy couldn't prevent a smile from forming, and bent down to unlace her skates.
The first suckage was two months ago at her birthday party. Tara had silently begged her friend to stay when Willow came downstairs, but Buffy bolted. In the kitchen, after not being able to speak anything of consequence (even after all that rehearsing), she downed a cup of water and breathlessly commented to Buffy, "You suck."
Minutes later, however, Tara was able to get a little payback. She didn't supply Buffy with an excuse for why she couldn't entertain Xander's friend from work, which she was clearly searching for. Before the birthday girl showed the guy a place to park, she quietly commented back, "You suck more."
The real kick in the pants? Tara had been right about Dawn. Buffy could've stopped any wishes that led to being trapped in houses, just by showing Dawn she mattered. At the end of it all, Buffy had learned her lesson--listening to Tara was something to do more of--but that didn't mean the witch didn't suck. Because she did.
"I was thinking the same about you. I t-told you I probably couldn't skate." Tara said frowningly, moving to unlace her skates as well, and blocking the pain her rump was in.
"*Probably*. Means you never tried, so I was teaching you. Only badly." Buffy smiled guiltily, but wasn't done. "And hey, here was your idea. Tons of other options existed for celebrating 'Buffy's Self-Respect' making a comeback--most of which, okay, required some 'balance/coordination' skills. To begin with. Just never on frozen water." She threw her arm around Tara's shoulders once she was free of the skates, and asked with deep concern, "How's your ass feel, by the way?"
Tara gave her an odd look. "I don't really..." Despite that, a grin spread. "But...but you could ask Willow."
Buffy knew Tara's game. Whether their friendship brought it out, or if the wicca just turned on her playful streak once she became more comfortable with any person, Buffy couldn't be sure, but she was long past shock. She'd throw it right back.
"I've considered. But then I remember the time Riley said she threatened him with a shovel. Or...huh. Maybe it stayed verbal--I forget. Anyway, call my belly yellow if you hafta, but if you think I'm going to ask her what her ex-girlfriend's ass is like, brain cells have gone missing." With their skates off, they went to exchange for their shoes. "And I like mine where they are, thanks."
Tara had eventually--due to the supernaturally long length of the birthday party--made certain Willow understood it was over. Willow pretended to have known so all along, apparently, but was never a good fibber. What softened the blow was Tara's encouragement and approval on the magick front.
The once lovers were definitely still adjusting to the limits of friendship, but from Buffy's outsider perspective, it was going well. For everyone. She'd quit her "Spike" addiction (ergo, celebrating), Willow's confidence returned a little bit more each day (especially as she devoted herself to school, something she could get a firm handle on), Xander was six days away from marriage, and because everybody around her was happier, so was Dawn.
But Willow wasn't near happy enough for her to take a question like *that* in good humor. Hell no. Joke or not, Buffy was getting far away from it. She continued speaking as her sneakers were given back, and held out a wrist.
"But weren't you listening? Pulse, *then* flirt. Those're the rules."
Tara thanked the shoe-keeper for hers, and then said to Buffy, "If I was flirting? You wouldn't have to go to Willow to f-find out what you wanna know."
Buffy gave Tara credit. Her on purpose, slightly nervous delivery with a sprinkle of stutter, made her a better fibber than Willow. And because of Willow, it wasn't the time to be admitting anything. When it *was* time to tell her redheaded, best friend she was attracted to Tara? She'd play clueless as to whether it was mutual. Else Willow wouldn't believe that all these friendly excursions and meet-ups weren't dates. They weren't, but one could view them that way if inclined.
Buffy lowered her arm with an exaggerated pout, while Tara giggled. "K, you win." Beat. "So, uh, why this place? If you knew you weren't gonna enjoy." She got her sneaks on by the "hopping on one foot" method, while her companion sat again to do it more safely.
"Who said I wasn't?" Tara wondered, and then turned to answering the question. "I guessed, since you had a crush on Dorothy Hamill? Maybe skating wasn't always *j-just* a distraction; that's only how you remember it, because of your..." Her parents. Buffy found only one thing to object to in that assessment, but Tara spoke again before she could. "Anybody as talented as you are h-has to love it."
"Eh, maybe I coulda been." The slayer was shy about her ability. "My dad wanted to get me a coach and everything. Except that woulda meant being away from him and Mom. Probably for years. And since I was daddy's little girl, ciao Olympic dreams." She smirked, then just shrugged. "Besides, I think I was already too old. What stinks the most, is I missed out on inventing 'Ice Slaying' and being on Wheaties boxes."
"I bet a lot of kids would've eaten theirs thanks to you." Tara amusingly smiled, as she tied her boots.
"And then, had nightmares about vampires who came to their house to steal their cereal and bite their parents." Buffy quipped lightly, then it was time: "But I did *not* have a crush." With that cleared up, she pulled Tara to her feet. "How bout air-hockey?"
***
"What're you thinking about?" Tara asked Buffy just after she had gotten yet another goal.
She was going moment by moment with this "guide" role. All she could think to do was take Buffy places where she could enjoy herself, remember what it felt like, and see that fun was around to be had in life. She also went on a lot of patrols, getting Buffy to speak about the primal nature of the forces slaying stirred inside her. Making sure she didn't internalize, didn't suffocate herself with them.
Walking away from Spike was a huge step in the right direction, but Buffy was by no means finished re-acclimating to the world. Tara saw the contemplative, distracted look on the slayer's face, and knew what put it there, only she wanted her to say. They were alone in the small game room (everyone else kind of ran for cover), so there was no excuse for her not to.
The witch recognized the silent question of "What else?" in the slayer's eyes, and listened as the words came without struggle or hesitation. "About how many girls that vampire got to kill or turn because of all those nights I wasn't here, and--"
"--back home saving someone else?" Tara gently interrupted.
Buffy got the plastic puck out of the holder on her side, and placed it back at center. "'Superhero complex,' can't help it."
Tara's lips quirked into a grin. "Well, you are a superhero, so..." Buffy hit the puck and they started to play again, the puck gliding back and forth over the surface. "It-it's good, though. I mean, you shouldn't blame yourself, but you do because you care. That's what will always make you different from her."
The puck zigzagged its way into Buffy's goal again. "Yeah, the First Slayer would've been able to block that. Damn." She reset the puck once more.
The woman who was up 3-1 wasn't focused on that just now. "She was a killer; you're a protector. You go out every night for people l-like that girl. Not the vampires." Her tone politely demanded full attention. "She's part of you, of-of your power, but it's why you use it that she'll never completely have control. You feel. You're human--whether you realize yet or not."
"Thanks to the constant reminders, I think that's slowly seeping in."
Tara ducked her head somewhat. She hoped she wasn't being too overbearing with this stuff. She didn't want to be like one of those professors on campus who drone on so much about the same topic that you eventually tune them out. If that's what was happening, and Buffy backslid, she wouldn't ever forgive hers--
Then the puck came an inch away from scoring on her, however, she held it at bay. She looked up with a disbelieving glower. "That was so mean."
"What part? I like the constant--'mean' isn't what I was going for. And c'mon, you weren't looking...an opening begged to be seized. Only not really, 'cause it still didn't go in." Buffy griped. "You're like an air hockey god...dess." She amended that last bit on the fly. "You know I appreciate and need reminding. Keep it up till you can't stand me anymore. Please." Who could resist the "puppy dog" look? "Oh, and I know the 'disappearing into your shell' thing is rare these days, but when it does happen? Can't see you--then I get 'sad face.'" She demonstrated. "So don't hide. No matter what I say that comes out wrong and moron-like. Okay?"
The puck came speeding toward her right then, and Buffy couldn't even mount a defense.
"Okay." Tara agreed with a deceptive smile, like nothing had just occurred.
For the first time, she realized Buffy had been helping her too, over these past, couple months.
"See? Way to seize." Buffy sighed. "How're you this good?"
"Donny taught me when we were little." The taller blonde had few happy memories from childhood featuring the males of her family, but that was one. "We had a table in our basement. It was supposed to be a game room, but Dad never got it finished."
"Wild guess--'like father, like son' kicked in around puberty?"
Tara didn't miss the dark edge to what she hoped was a rhetorical question, but for her, all that was in another life. They weren't her family, not in any way that counted, and they had no power over her. She might as well have been talking about people from a history book. She could recite the relevant details, but had no attachment to them whatsoever.
Buffy appeared bummed by her unaffectedness. "You aren't gonna join in on the being mad at 'em, are you?"
"Just can't anymore, even if I should be." The witch shrugged.
An admiring smile betrayed Buffy's faux-annoyance. "Fine, be well adjusted." A couple seconds later, she had puck in hand, and asked, "Think you could teach me? Gotta be better at imparting than I am."
"Why, because you suck?" Tara jibed, and was treated to a "Ha, Ha" face. "I might, too. But at least there isn't much risk of hurting your--" She began, walking around to the other side of the table by her friend.
The petite blonde reddened. "How many times do I need to apologize, Tare? Jesus cripes." She was being tortured with it, because Tara was entertained.
"Cripes?" Tara repeated back to her, brow arched and lips grinning.
Buffy didn't respond to that. "I don't know why I'm even asking," She muttered after a beat, and then raised her voice, "but, wanna go shopping with Dawn and me tomorrow? Afternoon...ish? It won't break our," Gestured between herself and Tara, "tradition." She promised.
Since the beach, having coffee together in the morning was something they'd made a daily habit of. Two friends meeting for coffee. 'Innocent,' Tara told herself for the thousandth time.
People could have coffee without it being a date. Sure, Buffy was beautiful, and a bit of a goof once you got to know her, and yeah, it was pretty endearing, because Buffy didn't know it was. But just because she was single and gay, didn't mean she--
"We have to get Xander and Anya a present." Buffy continued. "Five days before their wedding. Wait till the last minute--that's the family motto."
"Dawn, um," Tara left her head as gracefully as possible, "wants me to come?" She didn't want to intrude on any sisterly bonding.
"She's claiming I see you more than she does, and hasn't let me forget this, quote, 'totally true and totally unfair' fact, so I'd say the answer's duh." Buffy confirmed, smirking. "If you have plans, though--like, 'date' plans, or school stuff--don't cancel for us. I know I'm cramping your social life plenty as it is." Tara sent her now perfected, "Don't you dare," look. "Uh, last sentence is stricken from the record."
Was she kidding? The slayer was the highlight of her days. And nights, often. She'd become surprisingly comfortable in graveyards. Due to the company, most likely. They were always talking, learning about each other, trying to embarrass...not that they knew why, other than it was enjoyable.
Tara's spreading of her wings and self-discovery was further encouraged and facilitated by Buffy. She was allowed to be, without fear; she hoped she allowed her friend the same freedom. Anyhow, apparently she was a decent amount braver and bluer verbage-wise than she had been with Willow. Even to a greater degree than a mere, two months ago, during that intense, cleansing night with the euphemism about her liking Buffy.
Wait, that's not...and didn't make...whoa. She *liked* Buffy? Cripes. When did that happen?
Her face gave nothing away, however. Her voice neither. "Tell her any '-ish' she picks is fine. Hanging with the 'Summers Sisters' guarantees a fun time."
Big smile. Buffy couldn't like her too, could she? No. Though had she figured out...? "Great. You're my, 'Get Out of a Mood Swing Free' card for later." She relinquished the puck. "Except now isn't later."
"No...it isn't." Tara jibed again, this time making fun of her sentences.
"Hmm. Suckiness so soon? Woulda lost that bet."
With that out of the way, Tara put certain things temporarily on hold, and got down to business.
***
|-Bath, England, February 2004-|
Tara remembered that afternoon with Buffy and Dawn. They stopped to eat a late lunch at the deli in the shopping center, and while Buffy went up to put all their orders in, Dawn asked Tara how long she'd thought her sister was cute. She pleaded ignorance, but Dawn was sharp. Didn't miss much, so needless to say, it didn't fly. But the girl also had enough sense not to say a word when Buffy came back to the table.
"We were dating, weren't we?" She asked Buffy as she entered the sun room that was connected to the kitchen, carrying their hot chocolates. She'd made this batch.
"I guess." Buffy agreed from the sofa, turning away from the window closest to her--they lined the room, letting one appreciate the winter scenery from warm surroundings. "Just without the kissing or acknowledging or...getting people jealous at the Bronze." She thought there was more they didn't do--other than the obvious--but it wasn't coming. "But nobody else has to know that we knew. 'Cause Dawn'll milk it for weeks."
The witch laughed, handing Buffy a mug and sitting beside her. Then as she ran the words back, she felt her cheeks go hot. "You wanted to get people jealous at the Bronze? H..." Was that her voice sounding husky? "How?"
Buffy choked on her liquefied cocoa. Sat it on the window sill just to be safe as Tara smacked her on the back. "Um, uh, let's-let's just say there were many vacations to 'Fantasy Land' in my head."
So whatever it was, odds are it went beyond floating while dancing.
Tara copied Buffy's good idea and put her cocoa on the sill as well. "Unless you wanna be really specific about what counted as a date? I think we probably reached the point where it's okay to tell your girlfriend about, you know, the-the kind of things she was doing in 'Fantasy Land.'" Reached *and* passed the point.
Luckily Buffy hadn't gone for another sip, because Tara feared there would've been choking again. She watched a myriad of emotions and reactions ripple across her girlfriend's face, and knew them all. Elation, disbelief, hesitation, embarrassment, nervousness, worry, desire...love, all played out in a matter of seconds. Then she was the kissed this time. Needingly, like something had awoken that'd hibernated far too long.
And that was the true for her, too. Willow and Kennedy certainly charged the air, but when Tara's mind went where all minds go with two, vocal and passionate people nearby, it wasn't them she pretended to voyeur--it was her and the person now in her lap, with both arms around her neck. What she saw turned her on, and it wasn't too big a leap to guess she hadn't been alone in that mental place. Which turned her on more.
This trumped heaven. Why? Because it was real; the feelings were real. Cordelia described heavens as "dimensions jacked up on Prozac" once. Nice places, but the contentment they provided was artificial. Like a drug. Maybe it was because she was more mystically-attuned than most, or because she'd been quite content alive on earth, but Tara was able to sense how things weren't exactly genuine.
So *not* the case here.
When she started kissing along Buffy's throat and when her palms settled on Buffy's ass, the girl came up for oxygen with a moan. "Isn't too...too fast, is it?" Buffy managed to ask before kissing her again, quick and crushing. Spoke in the breaks. "Because...love you, but...slow with...romantic...later. Want you, and...can't...Mm...wait. Now."
Tara reached and pulled off Buffy's shoes, letting them fall to the floor. Then her hands traveled up to Buffy's waist, and surprising herself, she lifted and laid the slayer down. While Buffy's arms went back above her head, hanging over the arm of the sofa, Tara straddled her lower half before leaning down and stretching out over her upper.
A memory of Miss Kitty flashed in the wicca's brain.
Their fingers could meet now, and did, fitting together without protest. Tara's position also left their faces inches apart, eyes looking at each other--she saw in that hazel what must have been reflected in her blue. Confident in that, speed became a non-issue. Fast, slow...didn't change the meaning of what they were doing. It happened whatever way it happened. And she wanted to touch Buffy as badly as Buffy wanted to touch her.
But first, she had one quibble.
"I'm in Europe. With an incredibly beautiful woman who just...s-said she loves me. And the first time I g-get to see how beautiful she is everywhere, there's snow falling all around us." Outside the windows, anyway. Semantics. "What isn't romantic about that?" Then she grinned that grin, her breath tickling the nose below, causing it to crinkle. "She doesn't know it yet? But she's gonna feel how much I love her back, until all she'll be able to do, is wonder why the hell she ever liked boy parts." Buffy bit the corner of her bottom lip at this whispered news, half-suppressing a whimper.
The slayer bent her knee then, bringing it up between Tara's thighs. Someone's breath hitched. "Sofa."
"Gods…" Tara gasped, hands squeezing harder, eyelids fluttering. "What?"
"Isn't romantic. Or the comfiest." Came the delayed answer, but very fogging pressure made it hard for Tara to even remember her own question. "Good thing it can be a bed too, huh?"
The witch's eyes opened as she grinned again. *That* she comprehended.
***
The gang thought Buffy was strange for adding a sunroom to the back of the house. This was England--the country sunlight shunned. What was the point, they'd asked, of all those windows letting in dreary rain all the time? They probably figured it was where she went to be bleak and depressed or something. Nah.
Crater-gazing eight months ago, she literally saw a big circle. Saw the big picture Tara had insisted was there. The worldwide activation of slayers tipped the scales, taking away any chance for the First to disrupt the delicate balance of Good and Evil in its favor. Spike's destruction of the Hellmouth, however, tipped the scales too far in theirs. So what *had* been concentrated evil, got distributed in small doses around the world.
Having it click on a grand scale made seeing the simpler instances of balance, of why things happened, a cinch. There was peace in knowing everything existed in harmony. For that reason she loved being outside, walking humbly among nature, whenever she could. And when the weather was bad enough to deter her--or when she was just lazy--this room let her feel like she was out there. Thunderstorms were awesome from here.
But now there was snow, and Tara was right again. It was romantic. And balanced.
Cold on one side of the windows...hot on the other. She had her back to them on the sofa-turned-bed. There was a faint chill on her skin, not that she noticed. Much too focused. Tara sat with her legs wide, and Buffy knelt in the space between, hands shaking as she reached around to unzip Tara's dress. Revealing the body she kept underneath, for the first time? This was a fantasy.
Because they needed to stop to fold out the sofa, things slowed, foiling an original, "Buffy" plan for the second time tonight. Just about. The "Tara getting her completely naked as soon as they hit the mattress" thing, happened pretty fast. But now she could take as much care with this, as she did in her daydreaming. Screwing up plans could be fun. Though Tara wasn't making it easy.
She didn't know why, but in the fantasy, she pictured Tara being still while she went about her reverential task. In reality, hands were in tangled in her hair, and a mouth alternated between her stomach and the outer edges of her breasts. It was a combination of lips, tongue, and suction, and she was so...amazingly aware. Every sensation hummed through her, echoing long after others had followed. The witch wasn't rough or hurried in her ministrations--just skilled and enthusiastic. No, Tara had been lost in this particular activity for minutes now.
Buffy wouldn't be able to be upright much longer, if it continued. Like she read minds, Tara made a slight change, sliding a hand down her back, over her right cheek, and grazed four fingers along her folds from underneath.
"Geeoooshit!" Buffy cried out in surprise at the jolt, and collapsed forward, making Tara fall backwards. "Oh my god, Tare."
Tara began giggling, and as her body shook, the vibrations weren't unpleasant for Buffy. "'Geeoooshit?'"
"Hey, be glad I was that coherent." Buffy said with a smile. "Must warn before there's 'happy petal' touching." Tara laughed deep and throatily; Buffy blushed, and began to explain. "There was a library book in junior-high...very, 'Blume'-esque...about a girl discovering the, um, 'Wow-potential' of her unmentionables. And she gave them, you know, names." She pondered. "It's probably been 'PTA-banned' since, though. Was kinda...descriptive."
Tara's eyes sparkled. "What did she call this?"
Buffy watched her lift glistening fingers to her mouth. "'Water,' I-I think. That her 'flower' made for itself. 'Cause all flowers...need watering."
She swallowed hard as those fingers gained entry past her girlfriend's (oh, hell) lips. "Hmm...she never drank any, then." Those lips quirked after Tara cleaned them off with her tongue. "You taste so much better than plain-old water, sweetie."
Mouth dry. "The next time I say you suck? Take it as a compliment."
A fresh wave of arousal hit her. Buffy kissed Tara and rolled them over, so the taller blonde was on top. Tara sat up, and if it weren't for a thin layer of cotton, there'd be...geez...'happy petals' connecting. Perhaps even a touching of buds. When Buffy became conscious of it, she half-growled, half-groaned.
She immediately used her hands to finally slip the dress down off Tara's shoulders. Inch by inch (with help) she exposed a bra-covered chest, and was stunned. And jealous. Tara's full, curvy, soft figure made her the womanliest woman the slayer had ever seen. Buffy was mesmerized by how sexy, how erotic, how...much she needed to expand her vocabulary.
"You're sorta perfect." That would have to do.
Then Tara unclasped the bra, and set it aside.
Blink. "'Tara Breasts.' Breasts of Tara." Tara smiled, for the first time seeming shy. At her sides, her arms fidgeted like they wanted to cover something. A pair of somethings. Buffy held them still. "Uh-uh. It's my turn. Don't know if you know this, but I can learn pretty damn quick when motivated." Buffy pulled her down again, and she looked right at her targets. "And I really, *really* fucking am right now."
When she mimicked Tara's earlier attentions, she heard sounds of approval. "I..." She threw in a tiny nip for variety. Wasn't expected. "...geeahhohfuck believe you."
Buffy chuckled around the flesh that preoccupied her so. Such soap-worthy language they used.
Title: Part Four
The slayer was sitting on her bed, back to the headboard, surrounded by her stuffed animal collection. She heard her friend come to a stop inside the doorway, but didn't meet her eyes. She'd intentionally secluded herself in here for most of the day. After her "homicidal incident" in the morning. She could only bear to have conversations with Mr. Gordo, which probably didn't inspire confidence in her sanity.
"Wanna thumb wrestle?" Tara inquired lightly.
Buffy smiled despite herself, and spoke to the stuffed pig. "You're lucky you have hooves, Mr. Gordo. If you had digits that opposed? That sneaky wicca over there would sucker you in and crush 'em. Her hands're...really strong. And I could've broken them. 'Broke' being the best-case, re: 'pain.'" She forced herself to look up as Tara walked farther into the room. "I'm so sorry."
"You went to a reality where your mom was alive and still married to your dad. Where they both told you demons weren't real, and that you didn't have to fight them." The witch said, sitting on the side of the bed. "If it was me? And I saw m-my mom?" She exhaled. "Leaving would've been so har-hard."
Buffy grabbed Tara's hand and smiled sympathetically, while shaking her head at herself. "But it wasn't real. I served up the only people in this world who matter to me, to a demon, 'cause of hallucinations. From 'mystical acid.'"
"Maybe they weren't." Tara suggested, leading Buffy to goggle. "The poison? It could've o-opened a connection between you, and an 'Alternate Universe Buffy.' Which let your conscious's sh-shift back and forth...but you fought it." She said firmly, laying her hand on Buffy's knee. "You fought what was happening when you had to, killed the demon, took his antidote, and we're all okay. And we all still...still love you."
This smile grew large on Buffy's face, her thumb making circles on the back of Tara's hand, pretty sure she knew the difference between subtext and regular-text. "I still love everybody, too." She swore, and the glowing smile given back just bolstered her confidence in her text-telling prowess. But smiling had to be enough for now. "But I was tempted for way too long. I should've..." She was berating herself. "After putting all this work in, with you helping and being there and showing me...I *barely* passed a giant test. There's gonna be others, and 'barely' won't keep cuttin' it."
"Buffy, you just said you loved your friends and family. And we must be using up a lot of room inside," Tara nodded at where her friend's heart was, "if you turned down a normal life to stay here with us." She pointed out, trying to get Buffy to see how big of a deal it was. "Think about what that means."
Buffy did as bade, and strangely? It was rather anti-climatic. Could be she needed to change her definition of "barely." Her brain shouted, 'It's about time you caught up to me! Think we can back in frickin' sync now? Just maybe?'
"Nothing's wrong with me." Buffy said, and was certain. She knew it the night she cried into Tara's skirt (her brain did, anyway) but now her heart knew it also. "I'm alive, and I wanna stay. I wanna be 'ultra-supportive best friend gal' for Xander," Doubts and fears had made him leave Anya at the altar, "I wanna have mochas with Will and hear her babble about classes I don't understand the names of, and, god help me, I think I even wanna make cupcakes for the bake sale at Dawn's school." She recovered from that run-on sentence while Tara laughed. "There's nothing wrong with me, Tara."
"No offense, sweetie? But duh." Tara teased, as she congratulated her with a hug. "Welcome back." Beat. "You'll keep getting better, trust me. Bitch isn't so tough."
"Not with my guider guiding." Buffy breathed Tara in as a giggle escaped. She always did, when they were close. "How lame was the face paint?" Earthy, that's how she smelled.
The reason her heart knew anything, was because Tara warmed it back up. That was a fact. Not just the emotions of a girl in heavy smit.
The petite blonde said as the hug ended, "Yay for you being back, too." That's why Tara had come over. And been in a position to get hurt. What came next she couldn't hold in. "But you can still un-accept. Yes, I realize there was begging, but if you wanna run? Far away? You could. I mean, now that you and Willow aren't 'You and Willow,' where're you gonna sleep? Why didn't I think about this?"
A quick, "Don't start sucking" stare, and Buffy zipped it. Tara spoke then. "I told Dawn I'd sleep on the couch till we figured something out, but she said I was taking her bed or else. And her 'or elses' get a little...scary. Cre-creative, but, scary." Smirk. "She unpacked my things already, and hid all the cardboard boxes...I can't go anywhere. I don't want to."
"I don't want you to, either. You're home." Buffy said seriously, attempting to quiet her nerves. It was just, if something ever happened to her, something worse than today...*no*. Happy thoughts. "Oh hey, how'd your presentation go? Know you were nervous. Public speaking and all."
"Good. Hopefully good." Tara answered positively. "Everybody liked Willow's PowerPoint, and saying it in front of you, first--a-and her and Dawnie--really did help me relax." She smiled gratefully. "Thanks for sitting through it; 'The History of Engraving' is pretty dry if you're not into it. Dr. Redd didn't give anyone a choice."
"What're you talking about? You were great. I learned about chisels. Absolutely no dryness; couldn't get any wetter."
Her eyes bugged, while Tara, thank cripes, pushed them away from that can of worms. "We oughta, um, head d-downstairs. Everyone's waiting to see you. And because we couldn't in the morning? I made coffee. We-we usually have hot chocolate now, but--"
Buffy forgot her dangerous words lickety-split, springing off the bed. "Then we'll mix. Both have to be drunk." Her brow furrowed. "Drinked." No, that wasn't it. "Drank?"
"Drinken?" Tara tried, following.
"Ehh, now it's gonna bug." Buffy frowned, and when she spoke in the hallway, it was hushed. "We should set Willow up on a date, don'tcha think?" The subtextual motive there was, 'So I, a selfish, selfish person, can date you.'
"Yes. Soon." Well, that was immediate, no words minced. If Buffy had any doubts about Tara's feelings, they'd just been erased.
On the stairs, Buffy was back to normal volume. "So there might actually be a catatonic 'Buffy' in an institution somewhere?" Only made her more thankful for the life and the people she was going to greet. "Poor Alterna-Me."
***
|-Bath, England, Present-|
"If you two need to warm up, then that was some amazing acting. I mean, you could almost *hear* the sweat--how'd you do that?" Kennedy said with a wink as she walked into the kitchen wearing an oversized shirt that she just threw on, by the looks of it.
The brow above that winking eye, quirked. The blondes were wrapped in blankets, preparing to reheat their neglected hot chocolates in the microwave. Tara stood behind Buffy, arms tight around the original slayer's waist.
"Guess my girl's safe." The brunette grinned, moving to get two bottles of water from the fridge. "Will told me, but...the Boss? In the club? Didn't believe it. My intuition's gotta be on the fritz."
"They call you 'Boss'?" Tara asked bemusedly, kissing the top of her girlfriend's head.
"No, they call me 'Ma'am.' Words haven't been invented for how wigsome and...'geeyuh.''" That was the noise that went along with Buffy's shudder, and the similarity to an earlier made Tara go rosy. "They make me feel forty-five." Buffy grumbled after reopening her eyes post-"head kiss" to glare at the younger slayer. "Kennedy just likes being a pain in my ass whenever she can get away with--meaning, when Willow's not around to threaten denying what we're all obviously recouping from. How many times, Tare?"
"Maybe six?" Tara pretended to mull, and blamed Buffy's competitive streak for being so contagious. "No, seven. It was definitely seven." Kennedy scoffed, silently saying, "Yeah, right," at the nonchalant answer. "B-between the both of us."
"Yeah, 'cause of that once. With the...yeah." Buffy nodded, playing along. "Sorry, tried to keep us even, but, less experience." She looked apologetic. "If only I had an understanding, patient, *huge*-hearted expert in 'girl satisfaction,' training me." She sighed heavily, then waited a moment to continue. "Other important qualities? Front'n'back sides equally cushy--'back' because, sexy; 'front' because...she'd make a seriously better pillow than your standard traditional." Buffy held a finger upon her lips. "Blonde...blue eyes that look so far in they see aura...and a smile that women historically faithful to 'boy parts'? Suddenly wanna be kissing." Another heavy, dejected sigh. "But what're the chances?" Another pause. Before grinning and ending her complimentary speighl. "Oh, wait."
Kennedy squinted, like she was studying Tara's girlfriend as she would a bug under a microscope. "Who is she? 'Cause that isn't Buffy." Squint. "She's being cute...and *corny*. It's like she knows how to relax or something." She cocked her head to the side. "Well, it is only supposed to take *one*, good--"
"Kenn, why aren't you back ye...?" Willow said with a yawn, shuffling into the kitchen in a blue robe and 'Woodstock' slippers. Her eyes zeroed in on the two girls in blankets. "Oops. Hey there, you...potty-mouthed friends of me." Then they quickly went from them to her girlfriend, who she knew had nothing on except that long shirt. She raised her hand. "Am-am I interrupting 'future kinky'?"
"For them maybe," The brunette handed Willow a bottle of water and held her possessively, "but I'm spoken for. Have all the 'goddess' I could want." Deep kiss. "And, a night down the Boss would get out. Can't let my grunts think I'm her bitch."
Buffy's brow could've touched the roof. "*We're* the potty-mouthed?"
Tara's as well, while she herself felt possessive. "Some of those words I-I went my whole life without hearing. Until tonight." She teased Willow. "Vixen."
Seeing her ex on someone else's arm--not just from above--in a situation like this, she had to take it in. Would've happened eventually in Sunnydale (with everyone close quartered), but...events, had it happening here. To *know* the person you used to be in love with had moved on was one thing, but then to view the intimacy up close, and say to yourself, "That used to be me"? Separate experience all together. Odd, mostly.
She wasn't regretting; that would've been a complicated leap backwards. No, she remained thrilled for Willow. Kennedy, though bratty and having no shortage of commentary, obviously had only adoring eyes for her. Given the way the young slayer gripped the redhead, Kennedy was also obviously the dominant one in their relationship.
When Tara was with her, that role was Willow's. Kennedy's slayerness was the easy explanation, but no. Because if it held, Buffy wouldn't have let Tara take the lead through just about everything. Except during the application of slayerness. She had ideas about why they surrendered control, Willow and Buffy both, but standing here naked under a blanket and doing psychoanalysis? Uh, maybe later.
What she was doing, was realizing how far Willow had come. Her once lover had always been powerful, but having the darkest (as well as the purest) magicks course through her, only to emerge stronger, made her probably the most powerful witch in the world. There was no arrogance, however. No pompousness. Just a calm balance.
If her "shy face" was any indication, Willow had no idea how much of a force the Powers considered her to be. Or she did, and allowed Kennedy to ground her, so there was someone she didn't have to fill those big shoes for. Same reasoning could apply to Buffy in fact, and...whoops. Kind of psychoanalytical, wasn't it? Ah, well.
Tara's appraisal ended with her satisfied that Willow had reached the place she did in her last lifetime. Be love there forever--like Buffy had for Angel, and Kennedy for who'd ever come before--but they each had new people. People who were different, but who still managed to spark those familiar feelings. If she was offered a choice, Tara would pick Buffy without hesitating. That's who her heart was with, and the Powers knew that when they offered her the Cordelia-arranged "transfer."
"Us too." Willow responded back, and then succumbed to the blush. "So...you don't need a coach, do ya?" She asked Buffy, and Kennedy stared in shock. "Nononono...I was gonna use diagrams! One-hundred percent, 'No hands' coaching! And absolutely *no* to anything not hands, too. See? See the 'no' theme?" She smiled weakly. "Remember, 'kite string.'" Her heart was with Kennedy.
"Go ahead. Tell them your big fantasy where you watc..." Kennedy's stare was still peeved, but it wandered. "...watch them be freaking hot."
Tara didn't know what possessed her. Probably that same hell-spawn that made her call Buffy "beautiful" that first night. But damn it, her girlfriend's neck was right there; the side still pristine and not marked by vampires. And the hair she moved aside, reminded Tara of how Buffy wore it that first semester before Joyce passed. Long, wavy, and more of a brownish-blonde that her fingers loved running through. When she didn't have her mouth affixed to the skin behind its curtain.
Buffy's knees buckled, but she kept her steady. Rope and all. "What're you--?"
"Pulse-check." Tara mumbled, kissing down her neck to her shoulder, and up again.
"Gonna..." The elder slayer hummed, though she'd shown her approval the entire time. "...flirt with me?"
"Gonna do so much." Tara had missed physicality. Especially this kind, but even so, she stopped. Much to everyone's dismay. "Once we're, you know, alone." She looked to the gawkers. "It's okay, Willow. I've got her...and um, somebody's got you."
Willow nodded on a continuous loop. Perhaps her brain had broke.
"C'mon, they're not beating us." Kennedy declared. And in the moments before she dragged the redhead back upstairs, Tara met her eyes: 'Thank you.'
Releasing Buffy, the wicca hoped her message was conveyed past the horniness.
"They think we're hot." Buffy grinned on Tara's lips, prior to kissing her. Her next stop was an earlobe, but she held herself up. "*'Kite string'*? And *I'm* corny?" She rolled her eyes, then quickly returned to the ear, and dragged her fingers across Tara's back and past blanket. This went on for a good fifteen seconds until, "Let's hurry with the microwave. 'Cause I kinda wanna hit 'seven' for real now. Coach."
Tara was happy to give control to Buffy in order to meet that challenge. Her new lover, if she had to sum in a word? Thorough. And wow, she'd just necked her in front of Willow, hadn't she? They'd have to talk tomorrow.
"Before Willow came in, did you really...mean everything you said?" Tara asked, stepping aside to let Buffy work the microwave.
"Every last all of it. That part wasn't for Kennedy." Buffy told her sincerely. "And I had more. Like how I'd watch you do anything. Folding laundry? I'm there. Looking in the produce section for the most ready-to-ripen fruit? There. Ordering Chinese, but asking the guy what his name is first and how his day's going? There. Laughing at the movies of Jim Carrey? Well, think you get it." She bashfully smiled. "I am corny, aren't I?"
"There're worse things to be." Tara had something in her eye as she smiled back. "S-so you think I have a big butt?" Lips turned downside-up. "Oh, sorry. I meant 'cushy.'"
"Buwhasna?" What were three words became a mashing into one. It took a minute for Buffy to restart. "Okay, ''big' and 'cushy'? Two, unique words. With their own, unique definitions. People who wrongly lump them together had third-grade-teaching frauds. With nicknames like 'Mrs. Cathead.'" She pressed on after a strategic pausing. "A butt can be just-right, and still not skimp on 'cushy.' Which yours proves. If you don't think so, then Jennifer Lopez's is bony."
The microwave beeped, and Buffy got out the mugs.
After given hers, the witch stared much in the same way Kennedy had. "Already checking out other girls? That's awfully soon...and awfully sucky."
The slayer closed her eyes and breathed deep. "Why couldn't you've concentrated on how I wanna kiss you when you smile? Geez." When her eyes opened again, Tara made sure she was. "Willow was right--you're so easy to fall for. Even at your suckiest." As she kissed her, Buffy pulled the blanket from Tara's body in a swift motion, and raked her eyes over what she saw.
"Buffy!" Tara exclaimed, sharp but soft, cupping what she could with her only available hand. Had a slight drawback, in that, her quivering wasn't from the cold.
"What? I'm checking." Buffy grinned, drank, and then started walking back to where the bed was. "Sure hope you're coming." Oh, that was a...statement. "Unless you want Xander to have a heart attack in five hours when he's craving Pop Tarts."
Tara hurried behind. It was time to get that control back.
***
|-Sunnydale, May 2002-|***
|-Bath, England, Present-|
"Do you think about it?" Buffy asked quietly as they lay beneath their blankets on the bed, all sexed out.
Drained of any and all energy. Sapped. Without muscle use. She wasn't this tired even after she and Riley had their ghost-fueled, marathon of a romp. A hell of a romp, no question, but that's all it was. This was something else.
Legs entangled, the women were on their sides, heads sharing the same pillow, facing each other. Buffy brushed her hand down Tara's locks, which she settled behind her ear. Then kept going, down over a cheek and across lips. The tips of her fingers were kissed as they passed. This was something else.
"About what?" Tara asked in return.
"You know what." The slayer accused, and then pushed out a breath. "But you're gonna make me say."
The witch gently advised, "You should...i-if you wanna talk about it."
Buffy considered backpedaling, but it wouldn't work. "I do, and then I...really don't, because that day was..." One, horrible, devastating thing after another. Though now it was-- "...gone. It's gone, and you're back. So why dredge?" She explained, condensing. "Besides, the timing's a landfill of stinks. 'Pillow talk' it isn't." Why was she surprised then, when Tara gripped the pillow case like she was prepared to yank it out from beneath their heads? "Don't punish the pillow--isn't 'mattress talk,' either."
"I remember it was my turn to make the beds." Tara said, evidently paying her no mind. Buffy didn't move her eyes from her girlfriend. "And Willow's was biggest, so I did hers first." Tara always worked her way from the toughest to easiest; that day, that admirable trait helped cost her life. "When I was done, I went to the window to ch-check on you," Despite what was coming, Buffy had to grin, "and saw Xander. I was so glad you two were making up.
"Then I saw Warren, but I guess it happened fast, because I don't, um..." The not-bullet proof slayer, for her part, just remembered smelling the grass as she laid on her back. "I don't think it hurt." Buffy assumed she must've looked upset, because Tara's tone had been reassuring. "What I remember most? I-is how angry at myself I was for the night before. I made you go home, and Spike almost--"
"You didn't make him try." Buffy's hand found Tara's over by her thigh, and captured it.
"And you didn't make him shoot me." Tara squeezed back. "Dummy."
"Spike didn't...oh. Never mind." Now that the other important person in her life who'd died and been resurrected was mentioned, Buffy couldn't avoid weaving off-topic, and she did so nervously. "D'you know that we, meaning me and Spike, kind of...bonded, after he came back from his soul-getting safari?" She didn't wait for a reply. "S'hard to describe really, because we didn't actually...but there was caring. Pretty deep caring. And he was just...you know, what I needed. Then." She tacked on that last word in hopes that it implied she needed Tara, now. "He's in here though," She pointed at her "heart" area, "and...I dunno what I'm accomplishing. Other than continuing the inappropriate talking on pillows."
"You two went through a lot together." Tara told her girlfriend, not bothered by this. Buffy supposed she'd asked herself that question before, with Willow. "I wasn't always watching, but I know how important he was. That doesn't just go away." Then her understanding expression changed somewhat, as she gave a playful warning that couldn't quite hide the insecurity. "But he better be comfortable in that file cabinet, because you're mine now. That clear?" Quiet nod. "I hope you're ready for us."
"Been ready. And for the record? How I feel about you, and how I started to about Spike last year? *Not* the same." Buffy needed to emphasize that. "Guess I just wanted you to know that even though a thing developed, it wasn't a replacement thing." There--she remembered what she intended to accomplish. "When it looked like we'd go somewhere eventually? Promised myself I'd commit. Which I stuck to...past what people who aren't Buffy would probably consider healthy, but hey, paid off, so...gloating." She smirked mildly. "Anyway, here's me. Being fully committed. To my girlfriend. In bed and out of."
"I think I'm kinda convinced of the 'in bed' part." Tara said, her half-grin as exhausted as the rest of her. "Are you sure you and Faith didn't get drunk re-recently and--?"
"Would've put a huge hole *right* through the commited-ness." Buffy reminded, looking mildly stung. "Turns out girl-sex is easy if ya know what you're looking for. And I should by now; that's eleven years of self-practice talking."
"Stop trying to distract me." Tara accused lightly, and goddess help her, she wanted to be. *Again*. But no, she was in control. "What're you really thinking?"
"You mean besides...?" Buffy trailed off at the now infamous glare, as Tara seemed to anticipate the guilt trip. "Wow, I even missed 'Ticked Tara.'" Beat. "What I remember the most? After I wasn't shot anymore? Is how much I hated that you had to die alone."
Willow had just been getting back from her Spellcasters Anonymous meeting when they were loading Buffy into the ambulance. Xander was too focused on her to think about checking on Tara, but that was the first thing the redhead did. She found her ex in the bedroom, beyond saving. But she tried anyway. And then "Dark Willow" happened.
"By the time Xander and I got back to the house, Dawn was sitting there, then more sirens and they didn't give a damn, and all I could think was, 'She died alone.'
Tara was going to interrupt, but Buffy didn't stop. "Until I heard my sister. She was so angry; she wanted Warren to die. *I* wanted Warren to die. Except, I knew you wouldn't, even with what he did, and I knew we couldn't let Willow go that far." Beat. "Not like it mattered, 'cause we were too late."
'Maybe it had to happen.' She thought to herself, and then closed her eyes a second, wishing what she said next, wasn't true. "Things got worse, but...you dying made me realize how very a lot I didn't wanna lose anyone else that day."
Buffy was of the same mind as Willow in that, why did death have to be the spark that lit the fuse of events? Of course, from there, she'd made it. That last year in Sunnydale had her backsliding somewhat, but she pulled it out in the end. Having Tara there might've helped the transition to army leader go less bumpy, but, wasn't an option. So she had to rely on her memory of those times, find "Buffy" all herself, and connect to those girls.
Spike was what she needed following the ousting. Hearing the purity of his feelings, what he thought of her...definite mood changer. Yet it wasn't frame of mind alone; no one could make her change except her. She took those attacks to heart, and instead of shutting down again, she recognized the truth in them and made the decision to break out of the circle she'd gone in for seven years.
She'd altered the world, become self-actualized, and her mental health was at a solid, 82.7%. It was important, her accomplishments. But the woman who pushed her through the darkest period in her life, was important too. Only, she'd died alone, her body growing cold on the floor until hours later. If Tara had to die, just as Willow had to go vein-y, then she deserved better than that.
The slayer let her eyes do all that talking for her. "I'm sorry."
She understood now that she needed to say that, whether it was under her control or not. She wasn't looking to debate; her girlfriend didn't. Tara just wanted Buffy to get it off her chest. She brushed a stray strand away from the slayer's face, and kissed forehead. Quiet passed.
"W-well, at least I'm," Tara smiled sheepishly as she broke it, "here now."
Buffy gave her a look that said, "Wasn't this same point raised earlier?"
"And not alone. Ever again, by the way." Then lip kissing seemed like the thing to do. "Idea. We should start a club. Open for all, 'non-zombie' resurrected people. I don't care how small our minority is; we have rights." When she saw Tara half-elsewhere even with the smile, she knew her turn had come. "Whatcha thinkin'?"
"Noth--"
"If it's about the other shoe, you'd tell me...right?"
Damn.
Title: Part Five
Tossing the sole backpack she'd brought through to the dining room so it landed somewhere in the living room, she turned her attentions to the fridge. More specifically, to raiding the fridge. She heard Buffy enter minutes later, poked her head out, took in the ruffled, thrown on tank top and drawstring flannels, and asked smirkingly, "Who's the dirty blonde?"
Buffy smiled completely involuntarily. "So you saw." She continued once Faith had gathered all the remaining lunchmeat into her arms, and plopped them on the counter. "When'd you get back?"
"Just." Then came the mayo and mustard--dark--before she shouldered shut the fridge.
"You drove in a blizzard? From Scotland?" Buffy looked over at the window. Clear sky. "Or not. Still, bad roads and--"
"Got the mystics t'beam me express. I'm wicked jetlagged." She sat on the stool at the counter, moved her neck in a circle until she heard the pops, and then began to prepare her feast.
"We have mystics now?" Buffy asked in wonderment.
"We have every damn thing, B."
"Neat." She watched Faith, in silence, make four, quad-decker, turkey-ham-roast beef-and-salami sandwiches. "You're not really..."
The Bostonian took the first victim into her hands, and positioned her fingers for their part in all this. "Like hell I ain't."
"You used all the bread!"
Faith ignored the accusation, choosing to eat. "Should consider movin' the troops. There's this bad-ass castle *beggin'* to be the main HQ. Image, location...'sides, we ever got attacked, defending this place is gonna be a bitch."
"Is this because you watched Lord of the Rings with Andrew when you were in Italy?" Buffy questioned with a knowing smirk, sitting on the opposite side on the counter. Faith was like a deer in headlights. "Yeah, I heard."
Cheeks puffed with food and Buffy still managed to decipher Faith's next words. "I was bored! And we had downtime!" It was time to take the reigns of this conversation. Which Faith did. Once she swallowed. "Still waitin' for an answer."
"She's Tara."
Faith had never bought the whole "glowing" thing. But then, she'd never let herself be in a position *to* purchase that particular cliché. Wasn't the type. Buffy however, was, and the last time she'd seen their leader this happy, the woman had been staring at a crater. It was a rare sight--Tara must've been fantastic.
Hang on, why'd that name sound familiar?
"Wasn't she--?" The brunette began.
Willow's or dead, she wasn't sure how she'd intended to finish.
"Not anymore." From the immediately somber expression on Buffy's face, maybe it was better she hadn't.
Faith's eyebrows went up, and she shrugged. "Yo, there any Dr. Pepper left?"
What'd she care about why Buffy left her lover's arms to sit in a goddamn kitchen for some stupid reason and have a chat? When she did eventually learn why, through no fault of her own most likely, she'd probably want to kick Buffy's ass. Not that that was new.
She stared expectantly until Buffy went to the fridge to fetch beverage. Buffy did it wordlessly, with just a sigh and shake of the head. Beat her when she developed this kind of power, but it was *awesome*. No way was she going to jinx it.
Less than a minute later, she reached up and caught the can thrown at the back of her head. "Think we met. Me and her."
"Technically. But it shouldn't count." Buffy stated while she sat back down, the smallest sliver of "Still Not Over It" to her words.
Oh. The body swap.
Faith just cast her gaze downward at the counter and took another bite. "So, uh, Willow do it?"
"A mother country of no." Buffy nipped that in the bud, and was quickly distracted by the disturbing sight of Faith chugging soda. Capped with carbonation's loud expulsion. "Tell me your secret to getting guys this whole time hasn't been out-belching them."
Faith casually flipped her off. "Be happy to demo 'The Skills' for ya, up close and personal...but I wouldn't wanna rub your honey the wrong way." Wink. "So what's the deal? She bring you all in? Y'know, to the fold?" There was a barest hint of a plural, through closed teeth, at the end. Buffy didn't rise to the bait. "Like Red? 'Cause I can't wait to lay the news on Bob."
"Bob" was Angel's latest spy/intern-promoted-to-spy. They didn't know his real name, therefore, Xander dubbed the dude, "Bob." It'd been his turn. Faith liked messing with sad, sad little men before sending them back to LA.
Buffy's reply was two-fold. First she picked off and consumed a bit of crust, marring one of the sandwiches, much to its maker's displeasure. Then she spoke. "Tara says I hafta sit in the 'Bi' corner when we bar-hop." She was serious, forcing Faith to choke on soda and to laugh at the same time. "What?" The blonde was lost; the brunette only laughed harder. "What's the funny?"
While Faith caught her breath, she thought about how much she liked Tara already.
In the meantime, Buffy had pieced it together. "No corner?" After a final snigger from the younger slayer, nothing was said for a couple minutes. "Cordelia pulled strings. Before she died." And "Somber Buffy" returned. "Up till four hours ago, I was letting myself believe they were unattached strings. Big surprise, they weren't."
"I bet Tara's gettin' cold." Faith had pieced together enough of the reason to not be interested in the rest.
She didn't know the ins and outs, but she knew Buffy, and Buffy was about to spew some guilt/angst/pessimism-ridden crap. Somehow, Buffy factored into the catch, so her pint-size predecessor would screw up the glowing because she couldn't "se la vi" and enjoy. It was like she hoped for screwed. Pissed Faith off.
She wasn't the right person to talk to about this shit, anyway.
"Bu--"
Speak of the witch. They both turned to see Tara, just as hurriedly dressed as her girlfriend, enter the kitchen. "Hey. Long time." Faith greeted.
"Yeah, um...yeah." Tara said awkwardly, yet politely. "How are you, Faith?"
"See my chow?" Faith gestured to said chow. "Five by five."
"Did-did we ever find out what that means?" Tara asked her slayer, who'd chosen to wisely come to her side.
Buffy's head shook. "Nope. Still a mystery."
"Good, I didn't wanna be out of the loop." There was a clear question in Tara's eyes, but it wasn't the same one she was actually asking. "Does she know I'm making pancakes in a little while?"
"Aw, the woman cooks? Better keep her, B. A chick can only take so much Cajun." Faith said playfully, but her stare was anything but. "You were just saying 'Welcome Home,' yeah?"
Buffy decided to shut up and agree. Second, wise choice. "Mm-hmm."
"Should take her back to bed, Tara. She needs her beauty Zs." Faith knew mission accomplished when Buffy glared back at her: 'Point gotten.'
Tara looked to Buffy, and let out a breath when a strong arm went around her waist. "We don't have to."
"I'm pretty positive I'll regret turning down that option later, when I can't keep my eyes open and fall asleep in the middle of a Giles' meeting, and probably drool, but...take a walk with me?" Buffy requested, a reassuring smile spreading. "I'll grab coats."
Faith didn't expect her instructions to be followed to the letter. She would've been disappointed in Buffy if they had. "Know what else'd keep you warm?" She saw the blondes brace themselves for innuendo--was she becoming predictable? Oh well, se la vi. Once more, a mouthful of food and, "Pair'a muffs."
To illustrate her meaning, she cupped her hands over her ears.
"We're stable bound." Buffy informed her, successfully resisting another baiting. "'Cause with my luck, today'll be the day Dawn decides to live up to her name and wake early. Then there'll be freaking when she can't find us. 'Us' meaning Tara."
The ravenous East-Coaster gave a thumbs up.
***
|-Santa Monica Mountains, February 2002-|
"Like your present?" Tara asked Buffy as they rode side-by-side along the trail.
Their guide rode ahead, Dawn a little bit behind. It was beautiful out here. Peaceful. Company wasn't bad, either.
"Now that I'm getting...yes, muchly." Buffy said, speaking both of the delay as well as the gift's mechanics, as she adjusted her feet in the stirrups and stroked her horse's mane. "The secret's letting him do all steering. Mean, he clearly knows the how and the where better than me. Or he's just great at faking." Her voice lowered. "But he pees like a..." She was going to say, "racehorse," when the age-old saying finally clicked. "Oh, um, right. 'Cause he'd...do that. Uh huh."
"Is anybody else's butt sore?" Her sister asked, making both blondes turn their heads and grin. "I have like, welts, guys. Seriously."
Since her birthday, life made scheduling Buffy's gift difficult, but a lull in Tara's coursework and Buffy's Doublemeat duty, helped today be workable. Quick breakfasts, too brief patrols...all well and good, but a whole day with the wicca? Much more preferable. It felt like they were trying to cram two years worth of missed friendship into the last month and a half. Not that there was anything wrong with that.
"You don't have welts." Buffy rolled her eyes.
"How would you know?" Dawn challenged.
The retort? "Because you don't."
Now the brunette rolled her eyes. "It's *my* butt. I think I probably know what's usually..." At this point, she realized she was outside, in public, and got shy, "...supposed to be on it."
"Why? D'you look in a mirror?" Buffy questioned, innocent in tone but not in look. "Thought you got over that."
"What?" Red as Mars, that was what the younger Summers turned. "Tara, I didn't ever..." She looked at the witch, horrified. "I--"
"--did. While dancing. Every night after Mom made her bathe." Buffy remembered, putting a hand to her mouth like she was going to whisper, but she didn't. Whisper, that is. "Was called what again?"
She got the death stare and a mumbled answer. "The 'Cheeky Cha-Cha.'"
Tara tried hard to sound stern. "Don't tease your sister."
Buffy frowned. "But s'my duty." One she'd slacked on, but she was trying to make up for that. "My other, less grill-y and kill-y, duty."
"C'mon, Clip-Clop." Dawn said to her horse as they skirted just wide around her sister and Tara to pull ahead. She smirked as they passed. "I still have 'The Copy,' y'know."
Buffy felt her stomach knot. "Destroyed. It was a destroyed copy."
"Nuh-uh." The teen sing-songed, and turned to poke out her tongue.
After the slayer whimpered, she looked over at Tara, who smiled. There was a bit of "Aww," and "Told you so," in those lips. The woman wasn't even hiding it. "Quiet, you."
It was nice feeling like the sister she was supposed to be, but part of her "sibling duty" was pretending otherwise.
"I didn't say anything."
"*Yet*...Miss, 'Might Wanna Put Ice On That Cramp'." Buffy tacked on, mistrusting the sly witch. She couldn't say what she wanted to--innocent ears and all that. But she allowed herself a smirk, remembering how much it hurt to hold in giggles at Spike's absolutely clueless face. "So you don't like, whisper to them, do you? The horses?"
To which Tara belly-laughed. And Buffy thought (the latest in a long, growing string of such thoughts), that perhaps she liked hearing it a bit too much. Sure wasn't driving her away, though. If anything, it was reeling her in.
"I just like riding." Tara answered once the laughter had gone out of her. "Back home, if I wasn't w-with my mom, I was down the road at Mr. Hubbard's. His farm was pretty huge. With chickens and cows and horses--"
"--and possibly a cute, older, crush-worthy farmhand daughter?" Buffy was teasing, but then the ducking/blushing combo confirmed. "Okay, now I need details."
"There aren't any. Really. I was twelve, and she..." Tara saw the stare of, "Don't believe you," and sighed. "...Lissa was nineteen. Y-yes I had a crush on her, and yes I only learned to ride horses b-because *she* taught me how, but nothing happened. I don't think she ever knew." The shorter blonde still looked skeptical. "I was twelve!"
Laughing herself, Buffy mercifully took another fork down the same path. "At least tell me how she ranked on the 'Scale of Cuteness.'"
"Since when are you interested in how cute we are?" Tara teasingly posed, likely happy to get some payback. Her "we," spoke of their gender as a whole. "And why? Need details."
Buffy wanted nothing more at that moment than to be able to follow Tara's lead and hide her face. Except, she'd cut her damn hair too short. Then the next thing she wanted to do was tell Tara the extent to which she sucked, but Dawn might hear and get the wrong idea. Resulting in a massive step backward for their repaired relationship.
So internally-focused was she, that her mouth nearly got away from her. "I'm not. I'm only interested in y..." What had she been about to say? "...your interest. In we. Us. The us that is we." Man, mouth and brain weren't cooperating today. "Because we're good friends, and good friends like to know about each other's lives, even the parts where styles might, um, clash. And they're also...curious occasionally."
As their guide on the lead horse stopped, so did theirs. They'd arrived at a little stream, and the thirsty horses went without direction, to go drink from it. Being side-by-side and stationary, Tara was able to reach across and touch Buffy's knee.
"What d'you wanna know?"
Buffy hadn't really thought that far ahead. Her given reason was half the truth. She wanted to know Tara. Know the person who Dawn idolized, and who, from what Xander told her recently, had kept their odd, little family together and positive when she was dead. Humble as the woman was, she probably didn't believe she did anything.
Her unstated reason? She remembered never asking Willow. Never wanted to. Because of that, the redhead's relationship with Tara never got discussed. It became an unspoken rule. They used to talk about everything. About Oz, Angel, Riley...but Tara? No. Willow wouldn't say it, but that hurt their friendship.
She didn't get it then, and being so afraid of saying something wrong, she chose not saying anything at all. Maybe she was trying to correct her mistake. To get it. Already started to a little.
Met the witch's eyes. "What's your favorite thing about girls?"
"Hearing 'em." Tara didn't even have to ponder.
"Hearing 'em...what?" Buffy figured she better prepare herself for more blushing.
"Laughing, babbling..." That Tara was blushing, meant yep, Buffy was right to prepare. Voice got hushed and...something else. "...moaning..." Face reddened on schedule. "And if I'm lucky enough to be the one who makes it happen? That's the best feeling, Buffy. You have no idea."
Uh, thanks to that, Buffy sort of wanted to have an idea. Mental pictures. Pictures and sounds. They originated in a place having to do with moaning, how to get to moaning, and more specifically, her moaning while Tara made it happen. The longer she thought, she conjured ideas of after, with comfortable, soft spooning, feeling Tara's breath on the back of her neck as they slept...
She couldn't seem to help it. It was like a dam just broke, flooding her head with these scenarios. Most had no reality, but some did. She simply re-envisioned.
There were times when she'd watched Willow and Tara. Not in a peeping way; they'd just be sitting together. At the house, at Giles' apartment, the Magic Box, the Bronze, and Tara would have herself wrapped around Willow, and Willow would always look so safe in her arms. Truly safe.
Never having such an experience herself, not even with Angel (because, vampire), Buffy had been envious that her best friend found someone who gave her that. Now that she was flooded, she pictured herself in Willow's place during those times. That meant something. It meant that her slayer, sex overdrive wasn't the only thing at work here.
It meant she liked Willow's ex. Wait, no. It meant she liked Tara. Holy crap, it meant she *liked* Tara. When did that happen? She couldn't give herself up.
Tara answered her question, she had to reply. "Well, they say it's always the quiet ones." She could hide behind a grin.
"Are you okay?"
Maybe not.
"I'm fine, Tare." Buffy had called her by that slight nickname during coffee last week, and when she saw Tara smile at it, she'd adopted it ever since.
"That wasn't too m-much information?" The witch bashfully followed up with.
"Hey, I asked." 'Not enough,' was what Buffy wanted to say, but kept that to herself. Despite being caught off-guard by her epiphany, she loved when stuff made sense. "'Cept someone sounded a tiny bit full of herself."
"Did I?" Tara attempted her clueless act, which Buffy was getting good at seeing past.
Every day she learned something new and surprising about her friend. "Tiny bit." Another smile. They were getting frequent. "Thanks for my prezzie. Again."
Tara smiled back. "You're welcome." God, she wanted...but couldn't. No kissing. "My turn--first crush?" The upside of that question? Her sudden lesbianistic crush and related, fantasy activities took a backseat to a deep, long-buried embarrassment. "No stalling. Come clean, sweetie. I could've asked about 'The Copy.'"
This was true. "Mr. White." Buffy revealed, causing mild surprise to register on the other girl's face. "Not *that* Mr. White."
Back to Tara and surprising--closet, Tarantino fan. "Kill Bill" being a favorite. That was unexpected. At first, anyways. When pressed, she said she liked the art of it, the style, the words, plus, well, Uma, while still wincing at each, over-the-top death. Except the Crazy 88s. Tara *hated* those guys.
"He was my third-grade teacher." The slayer finally elaborated, looking elsewhere.
Before Tara could react, Dawn felt she had to announce, holding her nose, "Oh my god. Clip-Clop just farted."
***
|-Bath, England, Present-|
Tara understood why Buffy was upset. Why the slayer had listened, and then didn't say anything afterwards, choosing sleep instead. In the course of a day, they'd ridden quite the emotional roller coaster. It could hold off until morning when they'd both had some amount of rest. She just didn't to ruin what they'd gained by making Buffy hate her. That wasn't how she wanted the coaster to end.
Morning (later morning, anyhow) had arrived, and they walked to their destination, reflecting on one thing.
The Powers agreed to follow through on Cordelia's request--her life to restore Tara's. However, it would've been an even trade. Back in LA, Cordelia's body had been alive, but stuck forever a mystical coma. So too, in taking her place, would Tara have been. They could restore the physical; it was only meat. Life force was a different matter entirely, and hers and Cordelia's had both long expired. For good.
The only way around, was for Tara to share another's. Already being connected to Buffy as her spirit guide, the Alpha slayer seemed a logical choice. Or put another way, the only choice. She wasn't given an Option B. Tara liked to think of life threads from Greek Myths to explain it. She'd become entwined with Buffy's.
And that was the extent, really. Also, she'd most likely be called upon down the road to act on their behalf, but that wasn't what had her girlfriend upset. See, the next time Buffy died? The very moment, without warning, even if she was nowhere near her, Tara would as well. Because no longer did she have her own, separate thread.
Coming to the stable, Buffy opened a door and allowed Tara inside first. She shut that door as she followed in behind, trying to keep the cold out. The wicca looked nervous after the task was completed, wondering who was going to start, when in a blink, she was being made out with. Thoroughly. It was over far too soon.
Once Tara's tongue regained the ability to let her form coherent words, she put her grin on and breathlessly commented, "Fine, you can, um, be mad all the time."
"I'm not mad." Buffy corrected, resting her head on Tara's chest. "Never was. Being backwards's worked well for us so far, so I said to myself, 'Why wait? Start off with the kissing. Go against the grain.'" She explained, and rolled ahead. "And, keeping thought train on track...we could go do that 'nudity' thing, then--slowly--work our way back to this part. Feel quite peppy." Beat. "Love hearing you...jeepers."
"Sweetie, if I had your stamina..." Tara held her tight, and kissed the top of her head. "But sometimes waiting's fun, too. Until tonight. After you take me out."
"Oh, that's how it's gonna be?" Buffy looked up with a smile that turned down after a few seconds. "What if there isn't a tonight? Or a tomorrow? Dying while slaying? Pretty much my hobby. It can easily happen--so say the odds." She kept going. "And it'd kill Dawn. Losing both of us, at the same time, *again*. S'not like she doesn't already need massive amounts of therapy. Plus? Everyone'll hate me."
"They wouldn't."
"Why wouldn't? I didn't stay alive for you."
Seeing Buffy's need for space just then, Tara let the tinier woman slip from her arms. Her girlfriend retreated to the stable's rear, grabbing the salt lick pouch that hung beside the brushes. Gave Tara a moment to think about Buffy's perfectly valid view.
There was a strong possibility their life wouldn't last long, and hurt would be caused to family left behind. Except, her view? More optimistic. And truth be told, she wasn't too concerned with how the others would take it. Selfish? Yes. But what she'd seen time and again from her stint above was that--
"People heal." Tara said as Buffy walked back her direction, but stopped at a stall along the left side. She put a salt lick cube in her palm, and held it out for a honey-colored horse to eat. Tara joined her as the animal had his snack. "What's his name?"
"Argo. Willow's choice." There were six stalls, three on each side, but only five horses. Buffy pointed to the one next to Argo. He had a spotted rump, and was dark brown. "That's Jagger. Giles named." She turned around and pointed to each of the three across from them. The black horse? "Fury. Xander's." The horse colored like a cow? "Bunga. As in, 'Cow-A.'"
Tara chuckled. "Dawn?"
"Dawn." Buffy confirmed, and it was plain to hear how sorry she felt for the poor thing. But now she was down to the last horse, colored a really beautiful gray, with a half-moon shaped, white mark on the top-middle of her head. "She's Clay." She moved down to Jagger and got another cube. "I didn't wanna be too obvious."
How could she *not* come back, Tara was asking herself, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She was compelled to hold her girlfriend again, and she did, coming up behind. This was already getting to feel familiar. No, she didn't regret agreeing to the Powers terms. She'd known the risks, and accepted them.
"I love you." She uttered softly into Buffy's ear. "If there isn't a tonight, I'm still glad there was a yesterday." She wouldn't trade it, not ever. "And I'll tell'm."
"We will." The slayer amended, her eyes closing. "So am I. Buffy glad." And they reopened. "Boy is she."
"You are?" Tara exclaimed, picking on another sentence, and let Buffy catch on without help. "Well, that's it. We have to break up. Right now."
"Wow. Shallow. Can't you see past the physical?" Came the mock-hurt/disgust. "Ooh! And bar-corners that don't actually exist? Splainy."
"Um..." The witch held out as long as she could, but she had to laugh. Then, adding insult to injury, she swiped the pouch from Buffy's hand and ran across to the other horses.
The victim of theft whirled around, crossed her arms over her chest and shot her best disapproving glare at Tara. Tara flashed her an innocent, apologetic smile, and started feeding the horses. She felt hazel eyes on her. "I wasn't looking." Buffy's words were a lot less icy then her stare. "Didn't think, 'Hey, I know! Tara!' But, happened, and it was very brand new and scary and...fun. Emphasis on fun. I'm not gonna waste our chance.
"We'll talk to the gang, and I'll deal. Like always. Part'a the fun of us, though? We weren't this epic, dangerous, magick vending machine-moving, soul losing, soul getting, *or* soul mating...almost couple." She paused to breathe. "Don't get me wrong, as crazy as my previous relationships've been, still wouldn't wanna have missed out. And I know how important Will is to you.
"But the point, which I have...there was a simpleness. Slaying and witchcraft? Non-factors. For once, it didn't feel like the universe went all 'Cupid' on me; the falling for was completely separate from the guiding. We were friends--who discovered feelings. No more story." She walked over to Tara, who still had her hand out for Bunga, but the cube had gotten consumed a while back. "Now? The universe is back in the middle, creating the world's largest Catch-22 ever."
"I know."
With Willow, magick was the catalyst that connected them at first. It was a powerful thing, and through that, they fell in love. There'd never be anything like what she and the redhead shared, which might've been a plus, because sometimes the relationship felt beyond them. Glory, the dark magicks...they'd had no control. She imagined it was the same way for Buffy and Angel.
With Buffy, the catalyst was a night of communication. Open, honest and heavy communication. Then there was a beach, coffee, horseback riding, air-hockey, shopping...that was powerful in a way having to do with no one but her and Buffy. Mystical forces strayed clear. Until presently. She thought what scared the slayer the most, was the déjà vu. Their relationship wouldn't be in their hands anymore.
"Don't care how 'Romeo and Juliet' mutual dying is. It isn't fair...but I'm done. This is me dealing." Buffy finished her piece, grabbing Tara's free hand and squeezing it. "Love you."
Wasn't much to be said. Tara certainly couldn't think of anything. They were here, and there was love. That'd have to be enough. She didn't deserve to be greedy; she wasn't supposed to be alive. Buffy neither. Who else got to return from the dead without the severe consequence of blood and/or brain-cravings? Nobody else that Tara knew of. They were let off easy, and to demand more felt ungrateful.
She sighed. "You're right. We should start a-a club."
"I call President." Buffy slowly smiled, and they left the other shoe on the floor.
"Presidents need interns." Tara said it so casually.
Damn that hellspawn.
The slayer looked hopeful. "Are you applying?"
"Tonight. Maybe." When her girlfriend's head turned, she kissed the frown. "Can we go into London? For dinner?"
"Depends. Will the 'centipede story' be a topic of conversation?"
The witch's eyes? Saucer-wide. "H-H-How'd you...?" No, she wouldn't win. "Will 'The Copy'?"
"If I still get to interview you later..." Buffy seemed to be really struggling with her decision. Brow was creased like nobody's business. "...okay. But why do you hafta suck?"
"Like you don't?" Tara challenged, dimples betraying her scoffing. Before she knew what she was doing, the salt lick was on the floor with the shoe, and she was kissing Buffy feverishly while on the move. Progress stopped when Buffy's back hit wall. "Screw it. Waiting sucks."
"Horses, Tare." Buffy somehow reminded. "Could...spook..."
"Better be quiet, then." Tara's grinned, lowering to the ground and slid her hands down Buffy's sides in the process, what at the same time getting her jacket to fall off.
"*Me* quiet?" The slayer's hips began to move, and the witch hadn't even touched yet.
Both stable doors opened wide. Kennedy strolled in, a group of the new generation--including Nadia--with her. "Hey, Boss, I was just gonna take some of the girls for an early run, and--" The blondes froze, seeing their audience. "Whoops. I'll ask later." The smirk said this was no accident. "Move out, Maggots."
Giggling teens rushed out, and still smirking, Kennedy closed the doors, leaving them as alone as before. Except for the horses.
"I'm gonna kill her." Buffy promised. "Once the teapot's dead."
Tara was more stuck on, "I can't make that many pancakes."
Beat. Several.
"Sex first?" Buffy suggested.
"Please."
They'd be fine. They would. And when they did die (at a time like this, in a year far away) something else would live. Nothing sucked about that.