**jdcioffi: You're absolutely right. Every young lesbian should have a cable modem and a list of smutty url's *G*
**Rosenberg: Heh ... I had always suspected, and now I know *G*
**Jennpurr: Why, thank you *G* And a naughty Willow is a happy Willow. Or is that - "a naughty Willow is a happy Tara" ... ? And I highly doubt Amber and Aly run around reading fanfiction ... I'm sure they're very busy.
**lipkandy: Heh... thanks! And welcome to the wonderful world of posters BTW - love the avatar *G*
**AmberBensonRockzMyWorld: Okay, and a truer screenname has never existed *G* And thank you very much - your wait for the next vignette is now over ... as soon as I finish up these replies *G*
**lipkandy: Heh ... you have a >severely< cool gf. *G*
**bulldog_tidnab: Oooh! Cookies! I'll just scarf down, like, twelve of these, and blame the next update on them *G*
**jomarch: Thank you very much, jomarch *G*
**capricornmist: Oh, that's not what my mother says Heh - actually, I'm kidding. I'm the third kid of four, and I'm the Hero Child right now - it's kind of cool *G*
**BoredNow99: *G* Let's just call it 'positive reinforcement' for replying, then.
**Bookcat: Well, *shrug* I just see Willow being very much like us. And I swear, an internet addiction would've been so much nicer to see than a magick one *G* Anyway, thank you ... and your thesaurus, too.
And now, the vignette, inspired by crack, and other illegal substances. Well, that and one of the threads over on the Kitten Side.
Series: Vignettes
Number: 8
Title: Speechless
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to
pink_overalls@yahoo.com Summary: Ummm … this is something I’ve been pondering doing for awhile, mostly to see if I could make it remotely realistic. I mean, sure – there’s no way this happened like this, but all y’all were thinking it. You know you were
Spoiler Warning: Set during the fourth season episode ‘Hush’
Disclaimer: I didn't create these characters. I do, however, love them, and as they reside in my heart, they belong to me. I'm not making any money off of them, though.
Rating: R
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Part 8 of the Vignettes Series
by Sassette
Tara tried to pull back her hand, only to find that Willow’s fingers tightened on her own, the shocked open-mouthed expression on Willow’s face and her rapid breathing drawing Tara’s attention away from the coke machine they had just sent flying across the room.
She had known – she had >known< - that touching Willow would be powerful. The way the redhead’s aura had shone at the edges of her vision had demanded that she raise her head and look past her hair earlier that day, and she had been struck by the brightness and purity there. It had been like … like goodness itself had walked into the Wicca Group meeting, and she had seen straight through the outer trappings and into a loving but troubled heart.
Even so, she had been surprised at the intensity of it all. The power that had flooded her senses had been overwhelming, and yet it had inspired in her a calm confidence. They had joined more than their hands when their heads had turned with one purpose, and the soda machine had moved at the power of their conjoined will.
Willow jumped where she sat, her wide eyes turning to the door at the loud bang, wincing as the soda machine rocked. Another banging noise and it rocked again.
Tara opened her mouth, trying to speak – trying to tell Willow that it would all be all right. A look of total frustration crossed her face, and she wished – despite the embarrassing stutter – that she could say something – anything, to help take away the look of horror and fear on Willow’s face.
Willow felt tentative fingers touch her face, turning her head away from the doorway and the awful, awful banging sound, until her eyes met Tara’s once again. Her heart was pounding in her chest, adrenalin coursing through her veins as her eyes flickered from Tara’s face to the door and back again.
This was crazy, Willow thought wildly. Here she was, trapped in a little room, with some freaky demon outside trying to get in to kill her – them … it was trying to kill them – and she couldn’t even talk. Her mind tripped over itself, finding a million things she wanted to say – some kind of last words or something – but unable to actually let any of them out, they stacked up in her head, piling on and on until they were so jumbled up she didn’t know anything. She didn’t know anything at all.
With a subvocal soothing sound, Tara caught Willow’s attention again, her thumb brushing her cheek softly. The hopelessness in Willow’s eyes tugged at Tara’s heart, and a wave of guilt crashed over her. If she had only stayed in her dorm room – if she hadn’t wandered out at night in Sunnydale – Willow would be safe. This was all her fault.
The mute apology and sorrow in Tara’s eyes moved something inside of Willow, giving her something to focus on – something to think about besides her imminent death. Gingerly, she sat up, getting her knees under her and shaking her head in denial at the aching guilt written all over Tara’s face.
Awkwardly, hesitantly, she pulled the other girl up towards her, their hands still clasped, her other arm wrapping around Tara in a hug. At least they weren’t alone. They had each other in that little room, and nothing else, and Willow found herself grateful for the human contact as Tara moved closer to her, feeling an arm wrap around her shoulders.
A little sigh escaped Willow as she rested her chin on Tara’s shoulder, closing her eyes against the sight of the coke machine rocking wildly as the demons tried to get in. As if by some mutual agreement, they let go of each other’s hands, moving into a hug that was desperate and scared and comforting.
Tara held on to Willow for all she was worth, a lump rising up in her throat and tears stinging the back of her eyes. It was so very strange and frightening and wonderful, the feeling welling up in her, as she became aware of the fact that the girl in her arms – the girl who was holding onto her so tightly – meant more to her than anything else ever had. She just wanted to be closer to this amazing young woman, whose light and warmth radiated outward from her heart with startling clarity for anyone with the sight. It was beautiful – Willow was beautiful. The most beautiful thing in the whole world.
And she wanted to tell her. She wanted to open her mouth and just let the worlds tumble out … it would be awkward, and she’d wince her way through it, but she found in this situation the courage to speak – to say things she never would anywhere else – only to find that she had no voice.
It wasn’t fair, Tara decided, gripping Willow to her more tightly, feeling the other girl’s grasp tighten on her as well. Everything she was feeling for Willow was so … amazing, she had to tell her – and she had to tell her now, before she chickened out. So many things could go wrong – Willow could be angry or disgusted, or just hate her outright. But here in this room, those were minor fears – laughable, even – in the face of the terrible things waiting outside the door.
Her hands wandered of their own accord, stroking Willow’s back and her hair – soothing, comforting motions, meant to calm and reassure. And yet … and yet they were so close, she could feel Willow’s heart beating against her chest, could feel that beat pick up speed at her movements.
It was crazy and strange, and Tara had just about made up her mind to pull back when another loud bang echoed through the room, the soda machine rocking wildly.
They could die here, and all she really wanted was to just tell Willow how truly special she thought she was.
But she couldn’t tell her.
So she’d show her.
Willow made a little noise of protest when Tara pulled back, then her eyes shot open when warm soft lips pressed against her own. She was … getting kissed? In a little room with demons at the door? By a girl?
She found herself unable to move as her brain quickly sorted through her options. Pull away? Wait quietly? Or, maybe, just maybe … kiss her back?
No, that was ridiculous. Willow Rosenberg didn’t like girls that way.
Then why, a tiny voice in her head taunted her, was her tummy doing happy little flips as her head spun?
The shock and surprise, the fear – and yes, the excitement – raced through her veins as the warm insistent pressure against her mouth eased and then returned, again and again, until she found herself gasping softly, her lips parting and her eyes drifting closed.
It was strange and wonderful, holding this girl so tightly, feeling her lips playing across her own, soft curves pressed to her body. Hugging Buffy had certainly never felt like this.
She wanted to stop – to think about this, for even just a moment – but there were no moments left. The Gentlemen could break through the door anytime, and if she had to die, what a way to go. And even if she didn’t die, then she’d have time – to think, and to analyze. There would be time later to sift through what she was feeling and try to make sense of it, or there would be nothing later at all.
Tentatively, hesitantly, Willow opened her mouth, letting her tongue sneak out to trace the warm fullness of Tara’s lips, and Tara pressed impossibly closer. Willow had no idea if she was finding it hard to breath because of how tightly they were pressed together, or because the overwhelming feelings coursing through her body were stealing her breath.
And really, it didn’t matter.
The kiss deepened, becoming more confident and sure as each felt the other responding. Desperate and needy, their lips and tongues tangled together, over and over, their bodies straining closer.
Hands wandered over soft curves, touches traded, the whisper-soft sound of fabric being brushed aside a provocative counterpoint to their heavy breathing and soft moans.
Clothes fell away as their need to feel alive – to connect to something real and safe – asserted itself. The strange acoustics of the laundry room echoed their cries back to them as bare skin rubbed together, their mouths and hands finding each other over and over.
It was raw and needy and powerful and terrible and wonderful all at once as their sweat-slicked naked bodies pressed closer, grinding together, pleasure washing over them at the contact. They strained closer faster and faster, the echoes of grunts and little whimpers spurring them on, until they came in an explosion of feeling.
Breath ragged, they lay quietly for a moment, little tremors shaking their bodies. Each blushed, trying to regain control of their breathing and their racing hearts, looking everywhere but at each other.
"I, uhh," Willow stammered, her jaw dropping open when she realized she could talk.
Two wide-eyed shocked faces regarded each other, speechless.