|-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.