First off, let me say thanks to y'all for bearing with me and the good vibes you're sending. I most definitely appreciate it, and it seems to be helping – the job search seems better, and I got my computer back! Secondly, I actually resumed writing a few nights ago, so Part 28 is alive and kicking. I’ve still got a lot of work to do, but at least there’s progress.
But in the meantime... a little Post-TOD W/T story. For anyone reading TOD, consider this your proof that TOD will really have a happy ending. Though this story does not affect the events of TOD, it is set in the TOD AU I’ve created (and thus, if there’s a story post-TOD, then TOD must end well, right? Um… I think that’s my logic, anyway).
Consider this my homage to my own computer… issues. I’m not sure it’s very funny to anyone who doesn’t have a warped sense of humor about such things, but still… here it is, anyway.
-BB
Title:
Laptop Lament Author: blameburner
Feedback: Sure… Always a plus
Summary: A silly little post-TOD events story. Tara’s Initiative, not that it matters… Timeline is several months after the end of TOD, during final exams. What’s the worst thing that could happen to Willow during exams? Hmm???
Disclaimer: Not my characters, but oh how I wish they were! Joss, blah, blah, ME, blah, blah.
Rating:
Pairings: W/T, of course.
Angst: None – unless you’re Willow.
Somewhere outside, the sun was shining. Birds were singing. Children were laughing. Computers were beeping happily. Yes, somewhere outside there was the joyous sound of laptops munching gigabytes, and the pitter-patter of newly arriving emails filled the air. But not here in Stevenson Hall. No, there was no joy in Muddville, for mighty Willow Rosenberg… was computerless.
A sigh, somewhat muffled but still discernable as falling somewhere between wistful and plaintive, meandered its way across the room, over the bed and into the ears of Tara MaClay. Tara looked up from the art history book to check on her love, who at the moment had her elbows propped on the desk and her head buried firmly between her hands. The blonde cocked her head and shook it slightly at the sight, not because it was unusual, but because Willow had been sitting like that for more than an hour.
But Tara knew there was no consoling her love. Oh yes, she knew that from experience. Willow was heartbroken, distraught, miserable, and on top of everything else, feeling extremely inadequate… and that was never good. Tara had thought she could help at least with that last part, trying to distract Willow with a cheeky suggestion of several ways Willow could demonstrate just how more-than-adequate she was, but that… well, what had seemed like a good idea to Tara at the time had turned into an extremely hysterical redhead alternating sobs and choking out something about insensitivity and showing proper respect for the dead.
It took a whole box of Kleenex before Willow would even let Tara sit on the bed with her, and another box before Tara was allowed to hold Willow’s hand, so… Tara wasn’t about to try helping Willow see the humor of the situation anytime soon. Nor was Tara about to say anything, really, lest she inadvertently
breath wrong. No, in the last 13 hours and 27 minutes, Tara had learned to tread very, very, very, very, very carefully – which basically meant sitting on her bed pretending to read her art history book in complete silence while keeping perfectly still so she wouldn’t make the bed squeak and controlling her breathing so she was close to passing out from lack of oxygen.
Tara looked up again, just in time to see Willow’s head slip ever-so-gently from her hands to the table, where it landed with a dull thud. Over and over and over again.
Okay, this has got to stop! Tara thought. Willow acting like a PMS’ing Erica Kane I can handle, but this…
“Willow,” Tara said gently, closing her book and laying it down next to her. “Honey… sweetie… this has to stop.”
Willow slowly raised her tear-swollen eyes in the most pitiful pout Tara had ever seen, so pitiful that Tara really, really, really wanted to laugh. It wasn’t the first time, but she knew better. She had learned her lesson well, and over the previous 13 hours and 28 minutes she had reduced her internal reinforcement against laughing to what amounted to little more than, “Fire bad. Tree pretty.”
No laughing. Laughing bad. Laughing lead to Kleenex and no snuggles. Kleenex bad. No snuggles worse.
“But Tara…” Willow began to whine.
“No,” Tara said, her resolve firming even though her heart cried out to her to give into Willow. She hated to see her love in pain, no matter how ridiculous the cause of that pain might seem. Still… “Darling, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. It’s not good for you.”
“But Tara…“ Willow tried again.
“Sweetie, I know you’re upset-“ Tara said.
“But Ta-“
“And I know you’re frustrated-“ Tara continued, her own frustration showing.
“But-“
“And I know this just plain sucks-“ Tara said.
“Bu-“
“But Willow Rosenberg, you’re driving me crazy!” Tara finally shouted, though not in a nasty, shrieking sorority-sister-smackdown way. It was really more of a loving, sensitive oh-my-God-book-me-a-room-at-the-funny-farm-and-get-me-a-room-with-HBO-and-a-queen-size-bed-for-us-to-share kind of way.
And it shut Willow up completely.
Tara watched as Willow’s mouth opened and closed. Opened. Closed. But no sounds came out. Willow’s busy little brain wasn’t sure just what to make of Tara’s outburst.
Tara, of course, immediately took pity on her love, knowing full well that in Willow’s fragile condition, the redhead was probably quite worried that Tara was actually upset with her. Although, Tara had to admit, a part of her – the devilish, evil, naughty part – kind of wanted to see what inventive groveling Willow could come up with to make Tara “forgive” her.
See what 13 hours and 32 minutes without sex will do to a girl? Abstinence does not make the heart grow fonder. All it does is make me horny as hell at extremely inopportune times. Good Goddess!
Then, of course, there was Tara’s own guilt over her part in creating this mess. Not that it had been her fault, really… how was she to know that if she had her foot there and Willow had her thigh there, and if Willow wrapped her arm around Tara’s back like that while Tara bent like that, and of course if they both happened to be propped up on the chair at the time, that the chair would collapse and knock over the lamp which would catch the cable modem and pull Willow’s computer off the desk and onto the floor.
I mean, really… who knew?
But still, that is exactly what had happened, bringing a complete and very abrupt end to their lovemaking and bringing Willow to her knees (and not in the way Tara liked). Suddenly the small dorm room turned into a laptop ER, and Tara had half-expected to see George Clooney and Noah Wylie strapping the broken computer to a gurney shouting, “We’re losing her! Get the paddles! Charge to 360!”
Unfortunately, after several hours of heroic measures and consults with every computer geek Willow knew, they finally had to call it. Time of death, 5:24 am.
And since then, some 9 hours and 46 minutes earlier, Willow had been… well, she’d been what she was now, pretty much going through every stage of grief – except that whole acceptance part – at once. And Tara had wanted to let her grieve, had tried to let her grieve, but… this had just gotten entirely too ridiculous. I mean, come on! Willow’s so anal about backing up everything that she didn’t actually lose anything when Sparky died! Sparky was just a shell… Sparky’s soul is alive and well and living on CD-rom.
“I… I guess I’ve been a little… um…” Willow finally said, “uh… pathetic?” It seemed as though Tara’s get-tough antics were having the desired effect.
“Not pathetic, darling,” Tara said sweetly, sliding off the bed and coming to rest on the floor in front of Willow’s chair. Tara took Willow’s hands in her own, stroking the backs lightly with her thumbs. “Just…”
“Difficult?” Willow supplied, grinning just a little.
“It’s kind of like calling Anya’s bluntness ‘refreshingly insightful,’ but…” Tara said with a shrug.
“Hey!” Willow said, pretending to be offended but laughing at the same time. Tara couldn’t help but laugh as well.
“Seriously, though,” Willow said, her smile dimming somewhat, “I’m sorry if I’ve been a pain-“
“Willow, it’s okay,” Tara said soothingly. “It was traumatic, I get that. Sparky was very… um… special.”
“Yeah,” Willow said wistfully, remembering the good times. Tara smiled, loving that her girl could get so upset over a computer.
“Besides,” Tara added, “you’re really kind of cute when you’re mourning an appliance. Sexy, even.”
Willow barked with laughter. “Oh yeah? Well you should see what happens hen I fry a toaster.”
“Really?” Tara said with a smirk, her eyebrow quirking upward.
“Oh, yeah,” Willow nodded. “And VCR’s? Oh my. I go to pieces. I bet I’d be terribly sexy then.”
Suddenly Tara was on her feet, dragging Willow towards the door.
“Tara! Where are we going?” Willow wondered as she was pulled out the door and down the hall.
“Best Buy,” Tara said. “We need some more electronics to break.”
THE END