Part IVWillow sat back down onto the twin bed, noting the familiar creak of its uncomfortable box springs. The icy cold of the water bottle was now pressed to the back of her neck alleviating some of the pain.
"I’m sorry Wil, I just….," the Slayer began, her voice low and halting.
"It’s okay Buff. Really," Willow interjected hastily. She wasn’t expecting an apology and she certainly wasn’t prepared to have an emotional discussion right now.
"No. No it’s not, I shouldn’t have assumed…just because…."
Willow opened one eye slightly to find that the blonde was now sitting on the bed across from her, kneading her hands in agitation. It was such a familiar feeling, the two of them here in this room facing each other and sharing pain. But it was never pain like this. It was Riley and Oz pain. Nothing like this.
"Buffy, my eyes went all with the black, big magic ensued and we’re here…" she motioned at their surroundings. "It was the logical conclusion."
The Slayer stood up and began to pace. "I just can’t believe I…I mean, it never works like that with two words and poof. You usually need stinky herbs and someone has to do the hokey-pokey and…not just two little words!" She stood again facing Willow, her forehead lined and angry. "I can’t believe I did this. I’m so sorry."
"It’s okay. Really. I think we should probably be thinking less about the blame and more about the getting the hell out of here…" the redhead trailed off wincing in pain. "Do you remember where we kept the advil-type stuff?"
Buffy immediately leapt into action, obviously glad to have something to do. As she searched through desk drawers Willow focused on another meditation technique she had learned for just this situation, concentrating on raising the temperature of her hands. As the migraine slowly eased she could hear her friend’s nervous rambling through the meditation.
"Are you okay? I mean your head?" Buffy asked and extended two orange pills. Willow carefully withdrew herself from the meditation and accepted them. "Wow. Hot hands," the Slayer said with a nervous smile.
"Yeah," Willow offered with a bit more strength. "It’s a trick to get rid of migraines only I don’t think they had witches in mind when they came up with it," she said as she held up one glowing hand.
"Was it the magic? Your head?"
Willow nodded and then winced at the new round of stabbing pain the movement brought on. "Big magic leads to big headache," she said weakly. "But, hey, no nosebleed," she offered with a smile.
Buffy nodded once, her own smile rapidly fading replaced by the familiar expression Willow and Tara had long ago secretly dubbed Colonel Buffy.
"Okay, so we’re stuck here and I’m not seeing any demon device," her eyes quickly scanned the room. "So now I’m thinking research. We could call Giles," she offered hopefully.
"Yeah." Willow offered. "But if it’s a time machine, which it probably is, then we’re in serious trouble."
"Why? I mean, I’m not seeing the big bad here. We figure out how to get back and do it, right?"
"Well, almost." Willow’s forehead furrowed into her trademark expression of deep concentration. "Except if we’re really back in the past then anything we could do could radically change the future. You know. Sensitive dependence on initial conditions, like the butterfly effect."
"Okay, you totally lost me, Wil…butterfly what?"
"Basically any small change can have a huge effect. Like a butterfly flapping its wings in the Amazon could cause a hurricane in the Caribbean." Still a blank stare. "Or, a more specific Buffy-type example would be me taking the water from the frig could lead to something terrible. I know it sounds crazy, but what if you go looking for a water to take on patrol in a couple of days, but there isn’t one because I came back in time and took it. So you go downstairs to the soda machine to get one and that takes you two minutes longer than it should have. And before, in the timeline where I didn’t get back, you totally missed this huge pack of demons because you walked through too early, but now you’re two minutes late so…"
Buffy was nodding her head in recognition so Willow trailed off. "Oh not good." And then it really hit her. "Oh God! Really not good!"
Willow nodded. "Yep. Really not good."
"So we’ve really got to get out of here."
"Yeah, but we don’t even know how to do that, so until we do, we need to do everything as much like we did before as we possible can."
"How are we supposed to do that? I mean, I don’t’ remember what I had for breakfast." she said desperately. "Back in the real now," she finished and shook her head in confusion.
Willow moved to her backpack and fished around until she found the familiar edges of her overstuffed filofax. "Well, this should help."
"Oh, yeah," Buffy moved to her bag and pulled out her own while Willow smiled at her own resourcefulness. It was so familiar, the edges of the used pages carefully turned down in precise triangles. As she flipped through the pages she noted different events carefully color-coded in her own hand-writing: a Physics exam written in royal blue with footnotes, Oz’s departure written in small black letters. She half-listened to Buffy’s monologue as she mused over the filofax’s contents.
"…none of this makes any sense. I mean, where are we? And where are the we that are supposed to be here in these bodies? Shouldn’t we be here in our own future bodies with our own future clothes?" Willow looked up at the Slayer’s off-hand remark. As usual Buffy had stumbled into an important observation. Yeah, why are we in our old bodies? "…and where is that demon thingy?" Buffy looked up suddenly. "Maybe it’s at the house!"
Willow forced her mind back to the present. "I don’t know. If it’s not here with us, it’s probably back in our own time."
"Yeah, but it could be. So we should probably check it out."
Willow nodded absently. It could be. And Buffy was action girl, she knew that. That Buffy needed to know that she was making physical progress toward her goal at all times. Besides, that would give Willow more time to think, to figure out what was going on. Because between the physics and the magic, this is going to take me a while. "Yeah, you should."
"Oh great," Buffy said with obvious disgust. "It’s the twenty-seventh right?"
Willow nodded as something in the back of her mind turned over the date. Three cubed. With a shrug she turned the final pages to the day. "Yep."
"All mine says is lunch and patrol."
Willow smiled at her friend’s typical lack of organization and then look down at her own sure that it would be well-ordered.
And froze. Somewhere far away she could hear the sound of pages turning and the Slayer mumbling, "every page just says ‘lunch’ and ‘patrol’. Why did I even bother?"
But Willow couldn’t even offer her usual ‘uh-huh’ in response. At some point in the moments since turning the page, her brain had stopped working. As if the five words ‘pizza and spells with Tara?’ written in enormous purple letters and outlined in pink were some kind of spell set to take away her thought and voice. She felt her body begin to shake uncontrollably.
"Wil?" Buffy’s voice sounded faint and distant. "Wil what is it?" Closer now, because the Slayer’s voice was rising in volume.
"Buffy," her voice broke in the middle of the word and she couldn’t seem to say anything else. Like a dream, a nightmare in which her voice was gone. Like the Gentlemen.
"What happens today? Is it Adam?" Buffy had crossed the short distance to kneel next to the redhead. There was a moment during which Willow was sure she would break down completely. That she would fall sobbing to the floor and never rise, but it passed and she made her terrible, familiar way into the numb.
"It’s…it’s Tara." Her own voice surprised her. It sounded so normal. So controlled. But her face was wet suddenly. From tears? "This is the first time we kiss…tonight. Today."
"Oh God Wil…"
"I can’t." Her voice was calm and even, but her hands were now shaking so badly she had to drop the filofax to the floor. Arms wrapped themselves tightly around her and it took her a few moments to realize that they were her own.
"It’s gonna be okay." Willow felt a hand on her knee and looked down to see Buffy’s well-manicured fingers gripping her tightly, but she couldn’t feel it. The numbness was working its way out from her heart to her extremities. Buffy never touches me anymore.
"I can’t." She repeated calmly and the arms encircling her clutched tighter.
"Wil, you just said we have to…"
She noticed the clock out of the corner of her eye. 2:30.
"It’s too late. She’s at the Retreat already." The robot voice continued. "When I’m not there, she’ll leave."
"There’s still time," Buffy said gently.
"Buffy I can-" and her voice broke again. "She’s gone. She’s gone and I can’t…" She knew she was dangerously close to meltdown, so she closed her eyes and began to take deep breaths, lowering herself into one of Ruth’s meditations. Trying to regain control. In. Out. Center. But it wasn’t working. There was no center here and everything was shaking. It’s about controlling that power, controlling your emotions, she heard Ruth’s calm lecture over the insistent roar in her ears.
Control.
"Wil you have to," she heard Buffy say, then a knock. A soft, tentative knock on the door. Tara.
And then a long, low sound like an animal crying. Keening. It took her a few moments to realize that the sound was coming from her as she curled into herself on the bed.
"I can’t…" But Buffy was already moving toward the door.
Tara’s gone. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. She’s gone and nothing can bring her…
"Oh, h-hi B-Buffy. Is, um, Willow h-here?" It was unmistakable, the soft musical sound of that voice. And Buffy’s long exhale as she breathed an almost inaudible ‘Tara.’
After a few long moments the Slayer cleared her throat and began speaking in a shaky voice. "Yeah, she is, but…" she didn’t get the chance to finish her warning.
"What’s wrong?" Tara’s voice was simultaneously gentle and protective and Willow felt rather than heard her move toward her in the small room.
I can’t.
"Willow?"
Tara was so close now.
If I just open my eyes I’ll see her. It’s not the dream.
And then the gentle pressure of Tara’s hand on her shoulder. Enough pressure to release the sobs she had been holding back with every ounce of her strength. They tore through her now like an earthquake. Like dark magic.
The warm weight of Tara’s hand began to move in slow circles on her upper back as she cried for what seemed like hours.
"Willow sweetie?"
Open your eyes.
It wasn’t a physical act. She didn’t will her eyes to open, the room simply faded from black to … Tara.
This isn’t happening. This is not real.
"Tara?" the word broke apart in her mouth.
Tara’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears as she looked deep into Willow’s eyes.
"Is she…" she tore her eyes from Willow’s to turn to Buffy, "is she h-hurt?"
Through the blur of tears she watched Buffy shake her head slightly and wipe at her own eyes. "No."
This isn’t happening.
But it was and Tara was searching her face, her blue eyes filling with pain. Willow studied the familiar features, the perfect arch of the eyebrows, the beautifully sculpted planes of her cheeks and forehead. The curve and sigh of her lips. The endless blue of her eyes and that gaze that told Willow she existed. Again.
It was.
"Tara."
The sobbing stopped and Willow reached slowly through months of grief to bring her fingertips to hover just above her lover’s lips. And stopped.
I can’t touch her.
If I touch her now I’ll never find my way back.
She could feel the heat under the sensitive pads of her fingers. Could feel Tara’s warm breath moving over her own skin. And then they were touching, Tara bridging the distance between them to bring her face into contact with Willow’s hands.
The familiar electricity surged through her at the contact and then the calm, Tara fusing disparate elements together like the sun.
Tara’s hands were now holding her face tentatively. Delicate fingers shakily running through red hair.
She’s nervous…
Because we’ve never done this before. Never been this close.
First kiss.
Willow traced the lines of her love’s face softly, carefully. Drawing them into her memory, trying to erase the pain she saw there.
"Willow what h-happened? Is this about Oz?"
As she shook her head, she felt Tara’s hand gently wipe the tears from her cheek and let out a long breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Willow tilted her head forward until their foreheads were touching. Until she could feel Tara’s breath on her lips.
"I thought I lost you," she heard herself whisper shakily.
The blonde pulled back slightly to look into Willow’s eyes, the world becoming a sea of Tara blue.
"Me? This is about m-me?" She could see the disbelief there, the insecurity that had always shadowed Tara. She ran a trembling hair through silken blonde hair.
"Everything’s about you." She let her hand drop to the soft skin of Tara’s neck feeling the strong pulse beating beneath her fingers.
Alive.
"Everything." She leaned in to press her cheek against Tara’s whispering low in her ear, "Always."
And she could hear it somewhere, a small voice telling her that this was wrong. This was not the way it happened. It was wrong and dangerous and she needed to stay in control. But there was the pull and presence of Tara and she would never be strong enough. She was already falling into her orbit.
Willow slid her tear-slicked cheek against Tara’s and felt the blonde whimper in response.
"Willow?" That familiar catch in Tara’s voice that spoke to a place Willow thought she had buried months ago.
"Oh God, Tara…" She lost herself in the overwhelming smell of her, the impossible feel of her hair against skin and lips. Ran her fingers over the exquisite smooth of her neck.
This isn’t right.
I don’t care.
Willow pulled back slightly to whisper again in Tara’s ear, surrounded by jasmine and sandalwood and everything Tara. The world was liquid again. "I think I’m going to kiss you," she whispered softly and heard the blonde swallow. "Okay?"
I can’t.
She felt the almost imperceptible nod and closed her eyes feeling her way back, sliding her cheek against the heat and flush of Tara’s. Until their lips were that close.
This isn’t real.
She was shivering now uncontrollably as she let her hands slide once more to Tara’s neck to feel the jump and pull of her pulse just under the skin. To reassure herself.
Real.
Willow moved forward slowly feeling the heat between them grow exponentially until her lips finally brushed softly against Tara’s and the shaking stopped. Everything stopped. And it was the first kiss. Awkward and tentative and full of promise. Tara’s lips parted slightly and she heard the whimper, felt the sigh as she took the blonde’s full bottom lip between her own and moaned. Slipping one reality over another, tracing memories over in her mind, everything coming back in waves of taste, smell and feeling. But it was never this good, never this…perfect. Because if it had been she would have died in that room with Tara…
Maybe she did.
As the thought crossed her mind, Willow pulled back slowly to open her eyes. To make sure.
Tara.
Yes.
Golden and glowing with her mouth slightly open, her eyes closed still lost in the kiss.
"You’re so beautiful."
Deep blue eyes opened slowly, heavy-lidded as a lop-sided smile formed on perfect lips.
"You are." Tara stated simply and then lowered her eyes, shaking her head slightly. "I never thought this w-would happen."
"Neither did I," Willow said and smiled for the first time, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of gold behind Tara’s ear.
Clear blue eyes found green again and held them steady. "Can we…again?"
Yes. Always. Everything.
Willow leaned in slowly to bring her lips to Tara’s again. Slow Willow. Slow. This is a first kiss, not a first…everything. And this is shy, sweet Tara. Pre-vixen Tara. So… slow.
She took a deep breath to steady herself, because she wanted everything now. To climb inside Tara and forget it all. Or remember.
But slow.
Bringing her lips to Tara’s in another delicate kiss, she was surprised to feel the blonde’s tongue trace her own in a warm wet line. She opened her mouth and the touch of Tara’s tongue was an incredible relief. It had taken all of her strength to keep her in that other world without Tara, without this. The kiss deepened, and she was winding her fingers through blonde hair, surprised by Tara’s reaction. They had taken things slow in the beginning. Light kisses and hand-holding. Willow wouldn’t even take her shirt off for weeks, embarrassed of her body.
But she could feel the blonde’s desire racing to match her own, building the thing between them with blinding speed. She knew the deep blue of Tara’s eyes with absolute certainty. It meant love and desire. It was the moon that followed her at night.
And that was a problem because that voice was telling her that it was too fast, too much for the blonde witch.
This isn’t how it happened! Not at all. Slow down.
Willow pulled back carefully gasping for air quickly noticing that Tara’s chest was heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.
"I’m sorry Tare," she managed finally. "I don’t want to rush you."
Tara’s mouth curved immediately into a stunning smile, her eyes dancing over Willow’s with mischief.
"Um, you c-couldn’t…rush me Willow," and then rolled her eyes in amusement and embarrassment. "K-kind of an impossibility."
Willow just stared at the blonde in disbelief for long seconds. They had taken it so slow, been so careful not to rush things. And then she understood with blinding clarity. Tara had held all of this back for her.
"You mean?"
"I mean," Tara affirmed softly and then blushed. "Unless you d-don’t want to."
This isn’t how it happened. This is wrong.
She paused again, thinking of the future that wasn’t set. The infinite possibilities spilling out in front of her. Then it hit her, what if this is the last time I ever see her?
I can’t.
Stop.
Everything is new. I’m rewriting the past. With Tara.
Starting right now.
Willow held Tara’s blue eyes with her own and pulled the pink t-shirt over her own head watching carefully as the blonde blinked slowly once and then swallowed.
"Is this r-real because…" Tara began and then stopped as Willow’s hand closed over her own. She moved toward the blonde slowly, raising Tara’s hand and placing it over her own breast as their lips met. They both groaned simultaneously as Tara deepened the kiss turning the room into a furnace. Burning everything away.
Willow brought her hands to the front of Tara’s shirt to find what she had hoped for – buttons. Thank god! Because she couldn’t imagine tearing her mouth away from Tara’s to get the shirt over her head. She fumbled the top two buttons open and finally broke the kiss to bring her mouth to the perfect skin of Tara’s neck and chest. She felt as much as heard the blonde groan again and continued to work the buttons open as she ran her tongue over Tara’s neck to trace the outline of her ear. But Tara stiffened suddenly and Willow froze.
"I’m sorry…too fast?" Willow mumbled, pulling back immediately
"No! N-not too fast…it’s just…" her brow furrowed, two worry lines appearing between her eyes. It should have made Willow panic, but the familiar sight and sound of Tara’s stutter brought tears to her eyes. Everything about Tara was stunning. Even her imperfections. "I have to c-call someone," and then Tara lowered her head, her hair falling forward. "To cancel s-something."
A slow smile began to spread over Willow’s face. The date. What was that girl’s name? And she’s going to cancel. Definitely different.
"Okay," she said softly tracing the line of Tara’s jaw with her fingers.
"I mean, if I’m s-staying," Tara mumbled.
"Oh, you’re definitely staying. Leaving is just not an option," she said gently bringing the blonde’s face up to her own pulling her into another long deep kiss. Tara broke away again carefully pushing Willow back.
"I h-have to tell you something."
"Okay." Willow said easing back onto her elbows.
"I h-had a d-date tonight," she began, and lowered her eyes again. Willow knew she should pay careful attention to her words, but she was lost in the sight before her: Tara, golden hair tousled, lips swollen and red, button down open to reveal her breasts still encased in a sheer white bra.
This can’t be real.
It can't be as easy as two little words.
"Uh-huh," Willow mumbled and reached out to trace the side of one of the blonde’s breasts with her hand.
Tara shivered and then put her hand over Willow’s to stop her.
"Willow, I want you to know the truth and how sorry I am…"
The redhead stopped her with a fierce kiss and then pulled back slowly to rest on her elbows again. She watched amused and then aroused as the blonde’s eyes traveled over her chest, her mouth opening slightly.
"You are so not the sorry party here. If I wasn’t such a clueless dummy you wouldn’t have had to make a date with Miss I’m-so-cool-with-my-leather jacket."
Tara’s mouth began to turn up into another smile as she met green eyes.
"You’re n-not mad?"
"No, but I will definitely be miffed if this phone call takes more than thirty seconds of my Tara time."
She was rewarded with another brilliant Tara smile.
"Okay," the blonde said and then quickly rose to her feet, pulling the button-down closed with one hand. Willow watched her walk, watched the familiar sway of her hips under the olive material of her cargo pants. She would have sworn that she could map the curve of those hips from memory, but even her didactic recollection couldn’t do this simple sight justice – Tara walking across a room. A miracle.
The blonde dialed quickly and turned to face her.
"You know her number by heart?" Willow asked playfully.
Tara froze, deep lines forming between her eyes as she held the receiver to her ear.
"No. I m-mean…her r-roommate’s a f-friend of mine," she should have felt sorry for making Tara stutter, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted everything. If this was going to be their last moment together she wanted every piece of them in the small space of the room.
"Uh-huh," she said and then moved her hands up to unclasp the bra in the front. Tara licked her lips once before her face flushed scarlet.
"Oh, uh, h-hi S-Sandy," the blonde closed her eyes and turned her back on Willow. "Is R-Rachel there?"
Rachel.
The redhead rose silently and moved directly behind Tara. She could feel the heat pouring off of her, radiating into the air between them.
Alive.
It was more and more real every second. Not a miracle anymore, just a fact.
She brought her arms slowly around Tara’s waist to the bare skin of her stomach and heard the blonde’s breathing catch and then quicken. Bringing her lips to one perfect ear, she whispered low, "You know I tried, I really did, but I just couldn’t be that far away from you…"
"Oh, uh, hi R-Rachel, um…"
"One thousand one," Willow whispered and then kissed the sensitive skin behind Tara’s ear making her jump.
"Ah, um, s-sorry…um, about t-tonight…"
"One thousand five," she began to carefully pull the button-down off of one shoulder kissing bare skin.
"I, uh…yeah, it’s j-just that…" a loud sigh escaped Tara and she cleared her throat.
"Tell her you’re mine," she continued to torture the blonde with kisses on her neck and ears. "All mine."
"I’m, uh…I’m gonna have to c-cancel…"
"One thousand nineteen Ms. Maclay. Could you move that phone to the other ear?" she whispered, her voice hoarse with need. Tara shifted the receiver from one side to the other and Willow pushed the remaining material aside baring both shoulders. She traced her fingertips gently down the blonde’s sides drawing small circles before bringing them up to cup her breasts. Tara’s breath caught in her throat, but she continued to talk to Rachel as if nothing had happened. Willow smiled into Tara’s neck, licking from her collar to the back of her ear as she pulled the blonde against her, pressing her breasts into her back.
"Oh God!" Tara moaned and then cleared her throat again. "No, I’m o-okay Rachel, I j-just re…remembered something…"
Willow was about to begin a new round of tortures when she caught sight of their reflection in the window. The window. Tara. Every muscle in her body locked with the terror of it. She felt the grief and panic move through her again in an agonizing wave, but she held it down. This was not about grief. This woman in her arms was bright and new and now. And nothing mattered but that. Not the future. Not the past.
This is happening.
Nothing but Tara in a bra, a sexy smile on her lips as she looked down at the redhead’s hands and then her own smiling gently into one pale shoulder. It was so familiar the two of them like this. She could never resist holding the blonde from behind whether she was at the mirror or washing dishes – for the redhead it was simply irresistable. It had become one of their most familiar private jokes, but this Tara didn’t know it yet.
This Tara.
And then blue eyes met green, her smile fading as they stared at each other in the glass.
"Tar…" all of the teasing was gone, replaced in one moment by desperate need and Tara somehow seemed to understand, pressing herself back against Willow and reaching behind to grab one hip with her free hand.
"Rachel I’ve really got to go," Willow could still hear the other girl talking as the blonde hung up the phone. Tara held her eyes in the glass for long moments bringing her hands to cover the redhead’s where they rested over her breasts and then slowly turned in her arms. Willow worried briefly that they would return to the gentle teasing, that Tara would become shy. Would want to take things slow.
And then she felt Tara’s hands sliding tentatively over her breasts and gasped.
"So, I’m yours?" she asked and Willow nodded. "So, that means…mine?" the blonde demanded studying her hands as they moved over the flushed skin of the redhead’s chest finally bringing her mouth to Willow’s in a breath-taking kiss.
No slow.
"Yours. Forever," she choked between kisses and felt the tears threatening again as she unclasped Tara’s bra running her hands over the familiar landscape, feeling nipples harden against her palms.
Tara.
Edited by: lipkandy at: 11/10/02 9:14:11 am
by barnabasvamp » Fri Oct 25, 2002 3:22 am 
. Get Joyce scheduled for an MRI/CAT scan too btw.
A little humor after an intense chapter.
Ya know you do the whole time travel thingy very well! 
I'm glad Faith came! And it was too sweet when Dawn apologized to Tara's picture for thinking that about Willow!