Rating: PG for now
Feedback: Go for it. This is for all of you not me.
Archive: Copy, cut, paste I don’t care it’s all for pens anyway. No one in my house wants to read it.
Summary: This fic is the sequel to This Look of Love
You may want to read that first for some of the inside jokes and setup.
Author’s Note: This will not be an Angst free fic. It will be an exploration on Tara and her past, as I see it. So from this point forward I'm winging it. Hope you enjoy the ride
Copyright Disclaimer: Joss and Company owns all the characters. But they are alive and happy here. So that's all I need to say. Mostly because I want to be nice.
Enjoy
Chapter 1
The soft thudding of tiny feet broke the silence of the house. A small hand lifted slowly, knocking softly on the bedroom door. When silence answered, she pushed the door open just a sliver and peeked inside. She spied two beautiful women snuggled tightly in the bed. Tiptoeing around, she softly climbed on top. Her tiny feet stepped behind the sleeping redhead. She hovered above them as she scooted to her bottom. Her petite cold toes wiggled between the tightly intertwined bodies. The sleeping blonde shivered at the touch and smiled as she felt little arms wrap around her.
“Good morning Mommy,” whispered the little blonde.
“Good morning sunshine.”
“I’m five today.”
“I know. I was there when you were born.” The blonde whispered quietly as she turned to look at her child. Tiny bright green eyes, in all their innocent glory, met blue.
“Tell me the story again, please?”
Tara began telling the story, every detail, every moment. Abigail interrupted occasionally; filling in her own details, she knew the story well. It was one of her favorites.
“Auntie Anya told me that Mom yelled at her when she got here.” Abbey looked at the sleeping redhead and frowned. “Doesn’t Mom like Auntie Anya?”
Tara looked at her sleeping wife then looked back at her daughter. She was thinking of a way to explain the relationship. A five year old just couldn’t understand. “Yes your mom does like her, just sometimes they like to tease each other. On the day you were born Mom wasn’t feeling like teasing. That’s all.”
“That’s right,” the red head grumbled pulling the sheets over her face. Abbey lost sight of her mom as the canopy of sheets covered them. The three of them lay huddled in the dark. “Sometimes Auntie Anya is mean to me, so I don’t want to play with her anymore.”
“What do you do then?” Abbey asked as she turned to look at Willow.
“Your mommy protects me. I run to her and she makes it all better.” Willow reached her hand over her daughter running her fingers up the length of her lover’s hip, pausing at her breast making her way up toward her chin. “She’ll protect me…us from anything. Even big bad aunties.” Willow groaned and growled as she grabbed the child in a tight embrace. Abbey wiggled and giggled as the hug turned into a tickle fest. “Now go get dressed. We have a birthday celebration to start. I think Mommy’s funny shaped pancakes are in order. Don’t you?”
“Funny shapes…funny shapes.” The child squealed with delight as she escaped through the bottom of the sheets and scurried out the room.
Willow grinned wickedly as she wrapped her arms around the blonde. “So mommy, how about rounds for me?” They started to kiss passionately as Abbey peeked her head back into the room.
“Should I be skirt or pants for the party today?” Abbey yelled to her giggling parents. She held up blue jeans and a red polka dotted dress.
A long silent pause came and Willow answered, “Slacks. No one wears pants in our family.” Abbey gave a confused look and skipped off down the hall to finish getting dressed.
“Willow really…she has no idea what you mean when you do that.” Tara gave a disapproving arched brow and pressed her body to her lover.
“I know. It’s just that when she says the word it just makes me cringe.” She forced the flesh of her lower lip forward searching for consolation. Tara lips found Willow lips in an exchange of passionate understanding. She moaned at the feel of wife against her.
“Mom, are you ready for breakfast?” Abbey jumped back on the bed and bounced her way up to the edge of the sheets. She pulled the covers back and the women cringed at the sunlight. Willow shielded herself in the arms of her lover as Tara drew the red head near. “I’m ready and I’m hungry.”
“Me too.” Tara smiled grabbing the flesh of her wife’s bottom. “Give me two minutes and I’ll be right down. You get plates, forks, napkins and cups.”
Abbey made a list in her head as she bounced out the door. Tara turned back to her wife devouring her with her eyes. Together they rolled from the bed and moved to the shower.
“You go first. I’ll go down and start the batter, then I’ll come up while you cook it.” Willow smiled at the idea of Tara pancakes. Tara sighed at the idea of showering separately. She missed the times when leisurely indulgences were a regular occurrence. Willow pulled a robe over her alabaster skin and tied a loose knot around her waist. She grabbed the blonde tightly and kissed her passionately. “I’ll be back for my rounds later.” She smothered her with kisses and dashed from the room.
Willow padded down the stairs and walked into the kitchen. Abigail was counting napkins, forks, and plates as she laid them out on the table. Three plastic cups were lined up across the counter. Willow pulled a bowl from the cabinet and the box of batter mix from the shelf. Abigail started to hum as they worked together in the kitchen.
“Get some fruit Ab. You pick today, whatever you want.”
She bounced to the fridge and pulled the door open. “I’ll have oranges. I like oranges they’re so orange.” She grabbed the fruit from the bin and shoved the door shut with her hip. “Mom, did you ever wonder why it’s an orange?”
Willow looked up at the excited eyes of her daughter. Fascinated by the constant awe she had for things around her. “I’m not sure what you mean, Ab.”
“I just mean, it’s orange and it’s an orange. Is it orange because it’s an orange, or is it an orange because it’s orange?”
Willow shook her head at the dizzying conversation. Surely the child was thinking beyond her age. Five years of Scientific American were finally catching up with her. “I guess that’s one of those great life debates.” A puzzled five year old stared directly at her. “Some things in life are a mystery.” Willow continued mixing the ingredients for the batter. She walked around the kitchen to the fridge and opened it grabbing the milk from inside. She filled three glasses and poured some into the mix. She continued to stir as she started to explain. “It’s kinda like the chicken and the egg. They are both important. I suppose if you follow all things of nature and the Goddess the chicken comes first.” Willow looked at her daughter. The child stared with glazed eyes holding two oranges in her hands. “Life always comes first.”
“So what does that have to do with oranges?” Abbey plopped the fruit on the counter. She climbed up the stool and turned the water on in the sink. She washed the fruit and placed it in the basket.
Willow reached for the fruit. “I’m not sure really, I was trying to make a point.” She sliced through each piece, quickly placing the wedges on a plate.
Abbey looked directly at her mom, confusion flooded her face. “Mom, what was your point?”
“Ab…I’m not really sure anymore. Why don’t you put the fruit on the table.” Abbey jumped from the stool. Willow handed the plate to her daughter and gave a quick stir to the bowl of pancake batter.
“Ohh… now that was very educational.” Tara gave a sexy grin and raised her brow. “Professor Rosenberg I presume?” She giggled as she lifted her daughter for a kiss.
Abbey lifted her hands with confusion and pointed at her mom. Twirling her finger by her temple she explained, “I think Mom’s kinda nutty sometimes.”
“Hey now! I’m trying to explain the orangeyness of oranges.” Willow shook the batter soaked spatula at them. It sprayed the floor and she laughed at herself.
Tara carried her daughter to the stool and lowered her on top. She took the bowl from her wife and gave the batter a quick stir. “And that has what to do with chickens?”
Willow frowned and wiped up the floor. “I’m really not sure, but when I started it fit like a puzzle. But now I’ve forgotten what my point actually was.” She tossed the paper towel into the sink and washed her hands. She sprinkled her fingers at both blondes before wiping them dry. “So I think I’m going to go take my shower now.”
“Oh that’s right leave me here to explain chickens and oranges.” Tara stared at the batter as it poured on to the hot griddle. The sizzle made Abbey grin and she licked her lips.
“Mommy, can you make me chicken shaped pancakes to go with my oranges?” she gave a giggle as Willow jumped back into the kitchen to tickle the little girl. She kissed her wife, carefully protecting her from the heat of the stove, and padded off to the shower. The girls made chicken shaped pancakes and cleaned things up as they waited for Willow to join them.
She walked into the kitchen still wearing her robe and sat down to eat. They joined hands and Tara led a simple blessing. “Goddess bless this day, and bless this food. Guide us in the path of kindness and understanding.” Tara turned to Willow. “Guide us in the path of forgiveness.” Willow turned to Abigail. “Guide us in the path of love.” Tara lit a candle in the center of the table and they ate their breakfast.
Abigail asked all about the plan for the day and the party with all her Scooby family. She was so excited that Willow and Tara had to remind her to keep eating. When they finished Willow helped Abbey snuff the candle and they cleared the table. Willow started to wash dishes as a knock came on the door. Tara walked over to answer it.
She noticed a messenger truck in the driveway and asked, “Sweetie, are you expecting anything from work?”
“No, I won’t have another project for a few weeks. I’m still working on the GTS package.” Willow had spent a major portion of the last year creating PDA software integrated with global tracking devices. The programming just needed finishing touches. “Why do you ask?”
“There’s a messenger truck here.” Tara opened the door to a very grouchy delivery driver. Willow walked in from the kitchen. She wrapped her arm around Tara as Abbey squeezed in under their legs.
“Is it a present from Uncle Mr. Giles?” Abbey asked with a bright-eyed smile. She was still confused as to what to call him. Her mommy called him Mr. Giles and her mom called him just Giles. So she’d made her own title. The driver interrupted their response.
“I have a package for Tara Maclay. Does she live here?”
“I’m Tara Maclay – Rosenberg.”
“Sign here.” The messenger ripped off the top page and handed an envelope to Tara.
The two women stepped into the dining room and opened the letter. It was from an attorney’s office. She read the first paragraph and shock flooded her face. Willow took the letter from her hand and read it out loud.
“Ms. Maclay, we regret to inform you that your father, one Steven Maclay, has tragically died. We request your presence at the reading of his will.” Willow stopped reading as she looked at her wife. Tara was in shock and she needed to sit down.
Willow turned to her wife looking for cues to their next move. “Baby…what are we going to do?”
“I guess were going back home to say goodbye.”
TBC
Edited because my typing sucks and Ohh so sorry about the double post. Spaz
Urn of Osiris
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"Ninety-nine percent of the failures come from people who have the habit of making excuses."
— George Washington Carver
Voice your opinion about Tara www.petitiononline.com/Tara/petition.html
at: 11/3/02 4:33:32 am
That's something I didn't expect to happen! 
Orange and orange! See, now you've got me wondering about it...i'm gonna go ask MY mom! 
Abbeys birthday will always be kind of sad now...Is this already angst? 
-Viv-
I wouldn't have much worry about negative tones associated with Abbey's B-day. She has great family to support her.
! 
Donnie is such an ass, and scaring poor Abbey...
and 
Donnie, 
He's so grrr... ok enough of him! 