Chapter Three Continues...***
Tara had never once drawn the blinds over her apartment’s huge windows. She liked being woken by the Sun. Between the rising of the Sun and setting of the Moon, Tara gained her sense of perspective on the world.
As different parts of her mind began to whir gently to life, she smiled at the memory of the night before.
Tara rolled onto her side so she could look at her peacefully sleeping lover. The redhead was lying on her back, one arm slung behind her head, hair tussled around her face. She could see Willow’s eyes moving behind tightly closed lids.
“So I said ‘no!’ we need twelve for a full circle of bunnies.”
Tara jumped at the sudden outburst and gave an involuntary giggle.
She waited to see if Willow would say anything else. But all was quiet now. Willow’s breathing was slow and regular. She looked happy.
Tara decided to let Willow sleep in. The redhead didn’t necessarily share her predilection for rising early. Anyway, she wanted to get a head start on preparing for her day of pampering Willow. There were preparations and things to be done.
She climbed gingerly out of bed, careful not to disturb her lover’s slumber.
***
Willow awoke feeling the warm sun on her face and hearing the distant sound of running water. She didn’t open her eyes– she had the pleasant feeling of being so relaxed that she could easily fall back into sleep at any moment.
She rolled over, her arms searching out cuddles from her lover. After several seconds of blind searching, Willow realised the bed was empty.
Half asleep still, her mind clicked. Running water. Tara must be showering. She thought of her blonde goddess in the shower. Hair running out over her shoulders. Water flowing the curves of her smooth body--she felt a strong temptation to see if Tara needed help washing her back. But sleep still pulled at her.
When Willow awoke the second time, she realised she could smell fresh coffee. She slowly opened her eyes and then blinked rapidly, adjusting to the bright sunlight.
Willow arched and stretched her body. As she moved, the light cotton sheet that covered her came away from where it had been tucked. Willow rolled and wrapped herself in the sheet. She could smell Tara’s scent in the sheets and on her pillow. She felt a warm tingle run through her body.
Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she looked around. Tara’s apartment was amazing. She’d said all this had been Rhianna’s. Willow wondered just how well known an artist Rhianna must have been. Pretty well known to afford all this she thought. She wondered if Tara had to work at all. She danced, but somehow Willow didn’t think it had anything to with needing the money. Willow rather loved the sense of intrigue that Tara inspired.
Metallic sounds roused Willow from her sleepy reverie. ‘I wonder what’s for breakfast?’ she thought happily.
Willow sat up and looked around for her clothes. She could see her skirt had landed in a far corner. As to the rest? She giggled, slightly embarrassed.
She spotted the half open door to the en-suite shower room. On a hook on the back of the door hung a white terry cloth robe. Willow smiled. She scooched off the bed and padded across to the shower room.
Willow wrapped the robe tight around her, enjoying the cosseting feeling of the soft white cloth.
She descended the spiral staircase and padded over to the kitchen.
A long, dark blue tiled island separated the kitchen from the living area. Opposite, glass fronted cupboards and a large stainless steel stove. Tara worked at the stove, her back to Willow.
A tray with two plates, cutlery and a bottle of syrup stood on the island.
Willow leaned on the island and cupped her head in her hands, contentedly watching Tara work. She found her mind starting to wonder if Tara had anything on under her kimono. She pulled herself back to reality. Smiling she greeting her lover “Hey you.”
Tara looked around, startled, “Hey, when did you get so quiet?”
“Oh it’s just one of my many special powers.”
Tara grinned. “So your magical powers go beyond the bedroom then?”
Willow smiled mischievously. She padded into the kitchen and up close behind Tara, wrapping her arms around the blonde and resting her chin on her shoulder.
Willow looked at the pan appreciatively, “Looks like you have special powers too.”
“My mom taught me a few things. She showed me how to make pancakes. Which will be ready in just a sec. Much as I hate to say it, smoochies while cooking equals burnt breakfast,” said Tara.
Willow drew away obediently, “Yes ma’am.”
“I was going to bring this up to you,” said Tara.
“’s okay. I am up now. Anyway, I like watching you cook,” said Willow.
Tara held the frying pan above Willow’s plate and scooped out a pancake in the shape of a cactus.
“You don’t want to let it get cold,” said Tara, “there’s maple syrup and honey. I just need to make mine. They’re better fresh than standing in a stack for too long. I can always make more.”
Willow felt guilty at starting before Tara, but her guilt subsided at the thought of maple syrup melting over hot pancake, “Ok.” she grinned and started enthusiastically pouring syrup onto her plate.
Willow dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin, “You realise I may never need to eat again,” she said. She rubbed her stomach with one hand and then reached for her drink.
“Well you did eat three. And the maple syrup is nearly all gone. I am impressed. You act like your eating for two. There’s nothing you’re not telling me is there?”
Willow looked at her, confused. Then the light dawned, “Hey!”
Laughing, Tara scooted away, dishes in hand.
“So what do you want to do today?” asked Willow.
“Well I was thinking,” said Tara, “that I could take you to my favourite gallery and then maybe we could have lunch. After that, I hadn’t thought.”
Willow smiled, a whole day together!
“I may not need the lunch you know,” she said.
Then her eyes clouded a little. That annoying analytical part of her brain which she could never shut-up, even when she wanted to began to wonder just what it was that was between her and Tara. Half an hour ago, it’d all seemed so clear and not worth worrying about.
She thought about what she’d seen that night in the club. The aura. Tara’s aura. She thought about the dream of Tara. Her bracelet. Willow knew Tara had magic inside her. She felt captivated by this woman. Real life seemed a million miles away. And right now she wanted to keep things that way. She just needed to reassure the little voice. Did Tara feel what she felt?
Tara reached out a hand and pushed a lock of hair away from Willow’s face, “What is it sweetie?”
Willow smiled brightly, “Nothing I want to worry about. Just thinking the weekend’s too short and I’ve got work on Tuesday and…”
Willow looked up suddenly, “Oh Goddess!”
“What?” said Tara, alarmed.
“Buffy! I told her I’d see her on Sunday.” Willow’s brow furrowed as her mind grappled with two conflicting desires.
“Who’s Buffy?” asked Tara.
“She’s my best friend. And I told her I was going home to work when I was actually coming to see you.”
Tara frowned, “You said that?”
Willow looked guilty, “It was only a teeny white lie. I just wasn’t sure she’d understand. I am not sure why I said it either.”
Tara felt happy at this and also a little selfish. Willow had lied to her best friend just so she could sneak off and see her. But Tara didn’t like the idea of Willow telling even white lies on her behalf.
Willow looked up, resolved. “I know. I’ll call her and offer to cook for her next week. I’ll explain everything. She’ll understand. She’d not always been little Miss Honesty when it comes to telling people about her boyfriends. Can I use your phone?”
Tara gave a tight smile and nodded.
“Buffy?”
“Will! I was just about to call you. I was starting to get worried. You weren’t answering your phone.”
“Sorry.”
“Well, I am not your mother. I just wondered where you were. I called you this morning and got your machine. You never let the machine answer for you, ‘cause it makes you feel guilty. Anyway, so what are we going to do today? Should I come over or…?”
Willow gathered herself and then launched into her explanation, “Er, well, you see the thing is, well, this thing I was working on. It’s taking longer than I’d planned. I’d thought I’d have it done by Sunday. I think I need a bit more time though. I really need to get this right. Soooo I was thinking what if you came over next week? A bottle of wine. Some of my experimental cooking? I’ll tell you all about it.”
Willow hoped she sounded sincere. She heard an exasperated sigh from the other end of the phone.
“Willow, you’ll work yourself into an early grave. You need to get a life beyond work,” said Buffy.
That’s what I am trying to do, thought Willow.
“Work will be quiet next week. I’ll call you and we’ll get together?”
“’k,” said Buffy, “later.”
“Bye.”
Willow pressed disconnect and turned to look at Tara. “We have the whole weekend together,” she grinned.
“Are you sure she doesn’t mind?” asked Tara worriedly.
“Trust me. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. So, you were saying something about your favourite gallery?”
***
Willow had her clothes spread out on the bed before her. She looked at her ensemble critically.
“Tara, could I borrow something to wear? I am not sure my outfit from last night is really suitable for the appreciation of fine art.”
Tara smiled wickedly, “Oh! Do I get to dress you up?”
Willow lifted an eyebrow and gazed steadily into Tara’s sparkling blue eyes, “Maybe…” she drew the word out as she spoke.
“Or, you know, if you wanted, we could go and get some of your things…”
Willow walked around the bed and pulled Tara to her. She looked into worried blue eyes. She found it rather wonderful how this beautiful confident woman could be so nervous around her. Willow was usually more nervous than anyone she knew. She kissed Tara lightly on the lips and grinned.
Tara hesitated, “It’s just I’d quite like to see where you live.”
“You would?”
“Yeah.”
“In that case, I have a plan. Why don’t you come over to my apartment for tomorrow night? It’s not quite the palace you’re used to, but, well I want to show it to you,” said Willow firmly.
Feeling Tara needed a final convincing argument, Willow went for checkmate, “It’ll be much better. That way you can stay the night. You don’t just get a quick tour while I pick up my things, I can show you every room,” she paused so as to make her point unambiguous, “properly.”
Tara giggled.
“If you’re feeling really brave, you could even try some of my cooking.”
Tara laughed again, “It’s a deal.”
“I’ll just need you to lend me one or two things for today,” said Willow.
“So,” said Tara as she approached her wardrobe.
Willow sat primly down on the edge of the bed and crossed her hands in her lap. She looked up at Tara expectantly.
Tara gleefully flung open the wardrobe doors.
Twenty minutes later, most of what had been a row of neatly hung garments was now a large pile in the middle of the bed. Willow stood before the mirror admiring her TaraOutfit.
Stone washed jeans with a chunky brown belt. White cotton shirt with simple floral motif and a deep cut, frilly laced v-neck. The belt pulled the jeans in tight around her narrower hips. The jeans, turned up fitted neatly over her own black boots.
Tara stood a few steps behind, arms folded, critical expression on her face. Willow nodded her approval.
Tara continued looking thoughtfully at Willow then raised a knowing finger in the air, “Aha,” she said triumphantly, “it needs one final thing.”
“What’s that?” asked Willow suspiciously.
Tara’s arm reached swiftly forward and deftly caught the top button of Willow’s shirt and dislodged it from its hole.
Willow reddened slightly, “Everyone will see!“
“Nooo,” reassured Tara, “well not unless they’re looking and if catch other people looking...”
Willow pouted, but didn’t move to redo her button.
“Ready then?” enquired Tara with mock haughiness.
Not to be outdone, Willow grabbed her purse and marched purposely towards the stairs.
“Yep.”
Tara smiled and followed Willow down and towards the door.
Willow watched the elevator doors close in front of her. Holding Willow’s hand, with her left hand Tara selected B.
“So we drive?” asked Willow hopefully.
“Yeah, it’s a bit far to walk really. You don’t mind do you?”
“Me? Mind being driven around in that old thing? Pffhg, well, I think I can just about live with it,” teased Willow.
Tara reached across Willow into the glove box and removed metal rimmed, elliptical sunglasses.
Shades in place, she turned and grinned at Willow.
Willow wondered why she never looked that cool in shades.
Tara fastened her seat belt next to Willow’s, then started the car. Roof lowered, she piloted the car from the underground lot and nosed out into traffic.
‘Tara is driving me to a gallery! And after that she’s taking me to lunch.’ Willow found she couldn’t stop grinning. She kept stealing little glances at Tara and then looking ahead and grinning again.
Tara flicked on the radio. A hard rock lyric thumped from the sound system;
‘All, the, small things…’ Tara tapped her fingers in the steering wheel in time to the music.
***
Willow fiddled with her purse. Tara stood at the window buying tickets for the exhibition. Should she offer to pay? Should she offer to buy her own ticket? Would Tara be offended by her offering to pay?
Tara interrupted her consternation. “What?”
“Huh?”
“You were looking all David Blaine.”
Willow looked even more confused.
“Not quite there,” explained Tara.
“Oh, ah, I was just…”
Tara handed Willow a ticket, with an end-of-the-matter smile on her face, “Come on. I want to show you around. It’s beautiful here.”
Willow and Tara stood side by side, in the centre of the vast, circular gallery atrium. Through the domed glass ceiling, a clear sky gave pleasant contrast to the matt white walls.
Around the perimeter, eight large double doors. Each stood open, leading to themed display rooms. The atrium’s theme of blank canvas was given counterpoint by a verdant planting by each door. Every one individual and symbolising the work that lay within. At the side of the circle opposite the entrance, glass sliding doors led out to ornate gardens. The atmosphere within felt slightly humid.
Willow looked around, gaping at the architecture. Every aspect of it seemed to fit perfectly. Tilting her head she looked out broad opening leading to the rear gardens. A distant memory stirred, of a special ratio the Greeks had discovered to be particularly aesthetically pleasing. She’d read somewhere that the Parthenon and many other great works had used such ratios as part of their own magic.
Tara took off her sunglasses, and placed them in her top pocket. She took Willow’s hand.
“Come on. I want to show you around.”
***
Willow sat cross legged on the lush turf and looked around appreciatively. The quadrangle was perhaps a quarter of an acre of well kept grass with several old trees dotted around. A little oasis of nature in the big city. Beyond the edge of the quad and across the street she could see a steady flow of people entering the gallery. She noticed that the entrance line was very orderly, people standing upright and expectant whereas people coming out were sauntering and thoughtful.
Tara opened the wicker basket and removed a carefully folded blanket.
“Can you help me with this?” asked Tara.
“Sure.”
Beneath the blanket, Willow glimpsed assorted plastic tubs of food and bottles of drink.
Between them the two women unfolded the blanket and spread it out on the grass before them.
Willow sat down on the soft blanket and hugged her knees up to her chin. She looked up at Tara excitedly, “I haven’t had a picnic for like...ever!”
Tara nodded, “I usually come over here after I’ve been around the gallery. I like to bring lunch and just sit and think about the art. There are formal gardens behind the gallery, but that’s where all the tourists go, it’s noisy.”
She started removing items from the basket, providing detailed commentary as she went, “I didn’t know what you liked,” she said, “so I bought a lot of different things. We have little sandwiches. There’s only wholemeal bread though. We’ve got cheese. There’s stuffed olives. In here’s green salad. We’ve got bottles of water and apple juice…”
Willow interrupted, “My tummy’s all rumbly.”
Tara smiled, a little embarrassed at the lengths she’d gone to. She lifted out two small plates from the bottom of the basket and passed one over to Willow.
Willow took the plate, knelt over and began selecting items from the circular arrangement Tara had made in the centre of the blanket. Satisfied she sat back and looked at her plate wondering where to begin. She popped an olive into her mouth and chewed carefully. ‘No pits. Always good.’
“Did you like the exhibition?” enquired Tara.
Willow thought before answering. She took a sip of her water and nodded, “I liked the Monet and...the Picasso best. I think. I’ve never really studied art.”
Tara laughed, “You don’t have to study art to appreciate it.”
“I know, I guess I just like to understand what I am looking at.”
“Did you like the Botticelli?” asked Tara.
“Yeah I did. I am curious though, why is it your favourite? There’s so much talent and beauty in there, it’s really hard to pick one painting that you can say ‘I like this more than any other.’ I don’t even know if I could.”
Tara looked at her hands and then back up at Willow.
“Sometimes a painting has a special meaning. It’s like an affinity. I can look at some pictures over and over and always see something new.”
Tara paused, thinking about what she was trying to say.
“With that painting...The Birth of Venus. It’s significant in another way too. I don’t really know why, but when I dance, on stage, sometimes, I imagine that I am Venus like in the painting.”
“It gives you confidence?” Willow asked tentatively.
“Kind of. When I am up there, I don’t really think about anything but me, the movement and the music. You lose yourself in that world. Except…”
“Except what?”
“…when I saw you. Your aura shone out so bright...”
Willow smiled, not really knowing how to express the emotion that stirred in her.
Tara’s expression changed suddenly, “Hey, I just remembered. I had a d-dream about you last night.”
“You dreamt about me?”
Willow shuffled closer to Tara and narrowed her eyes conspiratorially, “What was it about?” she whispered, “Was I, you know doing stuff?”
Tara cleared her throat. Feeling a little embarrassed, “I can’t really remember. I can sort of remember snatches. If I try to remember too hard, it slips away.”
Willow was grinning again. She liked the idea of Tara dreaming about her.
“Do you dream a lot?” asked Tara in a more serious, interested tone.
Willow thought about the question. “I think I always dream, but I only remember them sometimes. When they’re very intense or scary. Or if I am not well or not sleeping properly. I remember when I was little, having dreams so scary they’d wake me up.”
Tara reached out and caressed a strand of red hair from across her lover’s face. She tenderly cupped the side of Willow’s face, rubbing her fingers against the temple, “There’s always something going on in there, even when you’re asleep.”
Willow looked down sheepishly, “Always got something to worry about,” she mumbled.
Changing tack, Willow asked, “What about you, do you ever remember your dreams?”
It was Tara’s turn to look away and think before answering. Her brow creased as she spoke, “I used to have a lot of bad dreams when I was living at home.”
She found she couldn’t look at Willow. But she wanted to tell her, “I used to have nightmares. A lot. Even into college.”
Tara smiled gratefully at Willow, who at first looked surprised. Then she looked downwards and found she’d unconsciously reached out and clasped Tara’s hand and was gripping it reassuringly.
“Tare?” She waited patiently for Tara to continue.
Tara laughed suddenly, “I haven’t had one of those dreams in a long time now.”
“It’s good to be able to laugh about it,” said Willow, “if you could’ve been in some of my dreams…”
Tara giggled naughtily.
“I didn’t mean that!” exclaimed Willow, “Although I wouldn’t object to a cameo appearance if you’re feeling up to it. In fact I am sure if I asked nicely I could persuade my subconscious to give you a starring role.”
Tara couldn’t stop herself now, she was laughing hard. She put a hand to her mouth to try to stifle her mirth.
“Tara Maclay, are you making fun of me?”
Willow put her hands on her hips, giving Tara an insinuating look. Then, moving swiftly she swung a leg over Tara and pinned her, straddling the helpless blonde.
“Because women who make fun of me have to suffer the tickle consequences!”
Doing her best Penelope-Pitstop voice, Tara said, “Oh no! Whatever shall I do?”
“Are you mocking my tickling? Are you suggesting that I couldn’t tickle you to within an inch of your life?” asked Willow enticingly.
“Who, me?” said Tara innocently.
“Okay, well don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Quick as a flash, Willow’s nimble fingers ran up Tara’s sides and under her arms.
The blonde squealed, rolling around under Willow’s onslaught.
After a many seconds Willow stopped and when Tara had calmed down, she treated her to her best imperious look, “Have you had enough? Are you sorry for questioning my ability to tickle?”
Tara put a finger to her lip thoughtfully, “Oh, was that tickling? I hadn’t really noticed.”
Willow looked away, and then looked straight back at Tara with an evil grin, “Actually, you’re right, that wasn’t really tickling, but this is!”
Willow’s fingers flew over Tara’s ribs, around her neck and then all the way back down her body, over her hips and reaching around, Willow ran her fingers down Tara’s thighs. All the while she pinned the writhing blonde beneath her.
She stopped suddenly and stared into beautiful blue eyes. Tara’s hair was splayed all around her head. She was still breathing hard and a little giggly as she looked up at Willow.
Willow lowered herself slowly forward. She placed a hand either side of Tara’s head, careful not to catch any of the blonde’s fine long hair under her hands. She shook her head in wonder and then leaned in the last few inches and kissed Tara lightly on the lips. She wanted to show Tara what she was feeling and she didn’t care who could see.
Willow sat with her back against the old oak tree.
Tara lay with her head in Willow’s lap, looking happily up at the clear blue sky. She listened contentedly to the birds rustling quietly in the tree, “So do you have any particularly scary nightmares?”
Willow thought before answering, “I can’t really remember… oh actually, there is one.”
“Go on,” said Tara, “I want to hear. You might be able to tickle me into submission, but at least I’ll know you’re nuts.”
“Well, I am not sure I should tell you if you’re gonna think I am nuts,” said Willow.
“Pretty please…”
Willow melted. “Okay, well. I have this dream where I am Principle of my school. Sort of like old principle Snyder only you know prettier.”
Tara was quiet, waiting for Willow to continue.
“Well anyway, in my school, all the teachers are professors who could be teaching in college, but they choose to teach our exceptionally bright students instead. And there’re no sports or physical activity of any kind. All the jocks go to a different school. Everyone has to do extra classes in math and science. The library is enormous. The computer lab has state of the art technology. And there is a whole separate building for science. The labs have rows and rows of really good quality equipment. Oh, and the cafeteria serves healthy food that you actually want to eat…”
Willow paused for breath, thinking about academic nirvana.
“I bet you were a keen student,” said Tara.
“Well I did okay I guess.”
“Will, you don’t need to be modest with me you know.”
Willow smiled sheepishly, “Well okay I did tend to get high marks in things. You just needed to spend the time and put the work in. That’s one of the reasons I loved college so much. Learning anything at school was hard work. Nobody ever wanted to be there, but college…”
Tara pulled Willow back from her happy reminiscence.
“Will, getting the picture here!”
“Sorry.”
Tara lowered herself down onto her back and positioned her head comfortably in Willow’s lap.
She closed her eyes.
“I can just imagine you with your books clasped tight to your chest,” said Tara, her lips twitching into a smile at the thought.
She breathed deeply. The air was humid and carried the scent of flowers.
“Hey sleepy.”
Tara sat up, feeling self conscious. “Hey. Did I, was I asleep long?” she asked Willow.
“Ten minutes maybe. I know you were asleep. I asked you if you wanted anything from the basket and you grunted at me!” said Willow.
“Sorry,” said Tara, “was I, er, was I saying anything? Did I snore?”
“Not really. You were little miss antsy pants though,” joked Willow.
Willow stroked her lover’s face, pushing stray hair from her eyes and letting her finger memorise the shape and contour of the face beneath.
She gave a small start as she saw a sparrow flutter down from the tree above and land by Tara’s foot. The plump little bird hopped towards a crumb of stray bread and pecked at it. Meal secured, the bird tilted its head this way and that, then hopped forwards and Willow was amazed to see, landed on Tara’s hand. It stood there for several seconds before dropping it’s crumb and eating.
Food pecked and eaten, the bird looked up and then turned it’s head sideways. Willow felt sure it’s little black eye was looking at her. Then, suddenly as it had arrived, the bird flew away.
Willow looked at Tara. She didn’t really know why.
Tara smiled gently, “I like birds.”
“They seem to like you too.”
Tara rolled onto her side and looked out across the park. As she looked, she realised she could see what looked like hundreds of birds. Mostly sparrows, pigeons and the occasional dove. A few other types she didn’t recognise. They stood in little clusters around the tree and bushes. Each industriously pecking the ground for crumbs and food. Occasionally a little scuffle would break out. Two or three birds would roll and tumble as they fought for the same morsel.
“Tara?”
“Yes?”
“Um, there’s something I wanted to ask you and I don’t really know how to,” said Willow.
“You can ask me anything. Just ask.”
Willow swallowed and thought about how to say what was bothering her.
“W-why do you dance? It’s just you don’t seem like the sort of woman who would do that. Not that I know what sort of person would do that. Not that I am saying only...you know...only certain types of women would do that. Not that I’ve ever known anyone who danced in, in a place like that.”
Willow realised she was digging a rather deep hole for herself, but she plunged onwards, “And it’s not like you seem to need the money. But you seemed to enjoy it so much, and with everyone watching, and…”
She stopped not knowing what else to say. She’d asked the question. Willow looked worriedly down at Tara.
Tara’s face kept completely straight for a second, then she laughed long and loud. When she’d calmed down enough to speak and realised that Willow was looking even more nervous now, she reached over and took Willow’s hand in her own.
“You are just so cute when you do that. You start off with a simple enough question and then you start to panic and the Willowbabble. It’s adorable.”
Willow smiled a little uncertainly.
“So, so why do you dance?” Willow repeated.
Tara pondered a long time before answering. She stared out across the grass. The question was not new to her. Sometimes she asked it of herself. And every time she asked the question, the answer was the same. Complex and sometimes ambiguous, but the conclusion was the same.
“When I dance, I explore a side of myself. A filament of me that it took me a long time to even be aware of. It lets me touch something primal inside of me.”
Tara paused, realising that she probably wasn’t making much sense.
“I guess the simplest way you could put it is that I enjoy it.”
“But don’t you, like you know worry about people getting a bit too, er touchy-feely?” asked Willow.
Tara lifted an eyebrow and smiled.
Willow blushed again and then her expression changed to curiosity.
“Okay, well I guess sometimes things happen. But you know what I meant.”
Tara giggled as she watched Willow become more flustered.
“Yeah, I know what you mean though. The place is very safe. You’re completely safe on stage. And I don’t do many private dances. Only when I want to.”
Willow blushed again and then her expression changed to curiosity.
“What is it?”
“Well, don’t you have to train to be able to dance? I mean I know it’s not the same as like professional dance… well actually I suppose it is the same because they pay you and all, but I mean, you know, like, I couldn’t do it. Surely you have to learn how?”
Tara smiled, a distant expression on her face.
“Tare?”
“I am sorry sweetie. I just had this image in my mind of you dancing for me. Mmmm yes.”
Willow felt suddenly nervous of the thoughts that might be gathering in the mischievous blonde’s mind, “so you didn’t answer my question. How did you learn to dance?”
“Well I’ve always danced in one way or another. Ballet classes when I was small. I did it through school, though it kind of petered out in the last couple of years before graduation. After I finished college, I started doing contemporary dance classes. When I came to do this, I found a lot of things came very naturally.”
It was Willow’s turn to ponder. “Huh.”
Tara and Willow strolled arm in arm through the park.
Willow broke the comfortable silence, “I-I am having a really great time.”
“Me too,” responded Tara, moving to be closer to Willow.
The two women continued walking, heading under the shade of a magnificent old tree. Tara grinned, she backed up against the trunk of the tree and pulled Willow in against her.
Willow felt an inner warmth. Tara, pulled Willow up to stop, leaned inwards and kissed Willow’s lips softly.
Willow relaxed into Tara’s arms, kissing her blonde goddess with passion. She didn’t care who could see. Probably no one was looking or cared anyway.
After nearly a minute, both women broke for air and started simultaneously laughing.
Willow took Tara’s arm proprietarily and the two women continued their walk.
Willow was looking down at the ground, listening to Tara when an unexpected noise made her jerk her head upwards suddenly.
A horse was walking towards them on the opposite side of the path. The rider was coaxing her animal gently along, carefully avoiding pedestrian traffic. Willow stopped abruptly, her arm unhooking from Tara’s. She backed off the main path, to stand under the protection of a tree.
Tara looked confused. She rushed over to where Willow stood, an extremely nervous expression on her face.
“What is it sweetie?”
Willow couldn’t find her voice at first. She nodded in the direction of the horse.
“You don’t like horses?” asked Tara, surprised.
Willow shook her head, “Bad experience when I was young,” she managed.
Tara put the basket on the ground and gathered her frightened lover up into a comforting embrace. As she felt Willow’s heart slow, she pulled back a little and cupped the redhead’s chin, lifting the delicate, frightened features to face her. Tara kissed and caressed Willow’s lips with her own. She nuzzled her forehead against Willow’s, comforting.
“It’s okay sweetie. It’s just a horse, look she’s a dappled grey. She’s beautiful.”
Without letting her lover go, Tara moved behind and placed her head next to Willow’s, watching as the mare and rider walked past.
Willow grinned a little miserably, “I am just not very good around horses.”
“It’s not that I don’t like them, it’s just I don’t like to get too close. I wish I could sometimes. It’s just I am worried they might get a sudden urge for an early lunch and like the look of one of my arms,” said Willow.
“Well some animals, if they’re not well treated or have had bad experiences, can be unpredictable. There’s nearly always a reason for the way a horse acts. They are very intelligent and intuitive creatures. You just have to know how to be with them.”
Willow smiled, wishing she could feel better just by hearing the words.
“Maybe you can show me some day.”
Tara nodded and gave Willow a reassuring squeeze. “Come m’lady. Your horseless carriage awaits.”
Willow giggled and threaded her arm back into Tara’s as they started walking back to the car.
***
“Oh! Up a bit, that’s it...there. Harder. Use all your fingers.”
Tara looked up. “Are you sure that’s not too hard? You’re back’s getting all red.”
Willow made some unintelligible noise, before sitting up, pulling her blouse back down and scooting back to her end of the couch. Comfortably propped up on cushions, she grinned at Tara.
“Thanks. I just get itchy sometimes. You know?”
“I know,” said Tara, “I am pretty flexible though, I can reach all parts of my back.”
Willow and Tara sat at opposite ends of Tara’s long couch. Outside, twilight was turning into night.
Willow picked up her drink and stared thoughtfully out the window. “I can’t believe these last few days. I almost don’t recognise myself…”
Tara looked at Willow, curiosity in her eyes. She waited patiently for Willow to articulate her feelings.
“It’s just, I am not the sort of girl who goes out much. And it’s been a long time since I’ve...what I mean is, it’s been a long time since I’ve met someone I can be myself with.”
Willow sipped her drink again, thinking how to continue. “And Friday night. Me going out with the guys. Never happens. Except, well this time it did. And I had a really great time.”
Small talk helping her edge towards what she wanted to say, Willow found herself still more nervous. She continued slowly, “When I saw you in the club. Before the lights came up. I, I saw you. I saw your aura.”
Willow was sure her intuition about Tara was right. But if she was wrong, well the spell would be broken and she’d be leaving. Why did she always think she might be wrong even when she was sure she was right?
“And I saw yours,” said Tara.
Willow looked quickly up and let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.
Willow decided she had to be certain.
“How long have you been practicing?”
“Always. Well since I was little,” said Tara, “my mother taught me.”
Willow’s heart smiled. She’d been smiling since the moment she first saw Tara.
“What about you?” asked Tara.
“Me?”
Strangely, Willow hadn’t been prepared for the question. “Um. How did you know?” she asked, then answered her own question. “You saw my aura? Was that it?”
Tara grinned her lopsided grin that Willow found so disarming.
“Well yes, I’ve studied auras. I see auras. But, last night, don’t you remember?” asked Tara.
“Remember what?” asked Willow curiously. She suddenly began to feel self conscious.
“Well...when you, you...you really don’t remember?” asked Tara.
“No said Willow. You’re clearly the big memory woman.”
Tara smiled again. She wasn’t sure Willow was going to believe her. There was no really easy way to say it. “You floated. Right when you...you know. Before you went to sleep. You floated up beside me. And then you floated down into my arms. It was beautiful.”
Willow couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. She couldn’t remember anything like that. All she’d remembered was a moment of pure bliss. She’d felt so connected to Tara. Like they’d never be apart. Then she’d felt an overwhelming tiredness.
“I floated? Really?”
“You floated,” confirmed Tara.
“But how? When I wasn’t even conscious of doing it?”
“Sometimes, when you channel powerful magick, it can affect the way your physical body is bound to this plane. I’ve felt it sometimes. I’ve never floated, but I’ve felt myself getting lighter.”
Willow smiled in wonderment. “Wow! Advanced! I’ve never managed to consciously float anything bigger than a pencil before,” said Willow.
Tara reached out her toe and tickled Willow. “Don’t put yourself down. You have a lot of power in you. Anyone can see that. Well any witch could see it.”
“Hardly,” said Willow, “My spells don’t always exactly go according to plan.”
Willow thought about the previous night. Her mind searched for the right words to tell Tara just how she felt. “Last night was…I don’t know how to describe it.”
Tara reached over and pressed a finger to Willow’s lips. “Shh. You don’t need to describe what you felt. You told me perfectly last night.”
Something else was nagging at Willow. Something else she knew she was going to have to put into words sooner or later.
“Tara, I have to tell you…”
Tara pulled her fingers away from Willow’s lips and caressed her lover’s soft cheek. She looked downwards, her blond hair fell either side of her face, so Willow couldn’t see the expression on Tara’s face.
“I’ve never dated a girl before.”
Tara looked up. The speech. She’d thought she knew what Willow was going to say next. ‘It was perfect, but let’s just not spoil that one special night by trying to make something more of it than it is.’
Tara didn’t really know why she thought this when every fibre of her being told her that Willow was special in a way that she couldn’t even begin to describe. She felt she’d taken the first step in understanding her redheaded enigma. And right now she was feeling like she could quite happily spend the rest of her days unravelling this beguiling woman.
She spoke slowly, “H-how do you feel about it?”
This was the most difficult question and the easiest question for Willow.
“A little confused, flustered, introspective and very very happy,” said Willow.
Tara looked up, suddenly smiling.
“Are you okay baby?”
“Oh yes,” said the blonde.
She could feel warmth radiating from her now. She pulled herself to Willow’s end of the couch and slotted herself among Willow’s limbs. She nuzzled her head against Willow’s breast. Content.
The two women sat quietly for a while, savouring each other’s touch. After a while Tara spoke, “How long have you been practicing magick?”
Willow thought back. “Well, not as long as you, but a long time. Since school. I taught myself really. I had a little help along the way. But mainly it was me and the big ol’ world wide web. There are some seriously strange people out there you know. And there are also some very powerful Wiccans who are kind enough to share some of their knowledge online.”
“Hey,” said Tara, “Maybe, if you want, we could do a spell together?”
“I’d like that,” said Willow.
“You know” said Tara, “there’s this one spell- I’d been thinking about trying,. It’s a spell of focus. I think it’s pretty easy, but it needs two people. And I’ve never had anyone to try it with.”
“How does it work?” asked Willow.
“It lets you see the magickal nature of things. The spell produces a mist. You put things into the mist and their magickal nature becomes visible to the eye. If say you put a flower in it, you might see coloured energy connected to the Earth. I’ve only read about it, but I’d love to try it...if you’d like to that is.”
“Do you have the ingredients?” asked Willow.
“I’ll go fetch them,” said Tara, sitting up and attempting to untangle herself from Willow’s clutches.
Willow giggled and pulled the blonde back down, pulling her
lips to her own. Eventually Willow broke away, smiling like a naughty school girl.
Tara stood up and composed herself. “I’ll go fetch the things we’ll need.”
TBC...
"There's nothing very merry 'bout going round and round..."
Edited by: raspberryhat at: 2/20/03 2:14:35 pm
by Kalita » Thu Jan 02, 2003 7:56 am 
im eagerly and..... a little impatiently awaiting more. keep up the good work
ciao 
at: 2/8/03 5:01:12 am
)
