Author name Millerchip77
Rating PG-13 maybe? Nothing too racy
Disclaimer I don't own Willow or Tara they belong to ME etc
Feedback Absolutely - the more the merrier. I can spew more out if you like it so far...
Summary It's a season 4 filler - I just got into BtVS this January and am obsessed, especially with our girls. So I wanted to write something that shows how their relationship developed. It's not linear and is written from Willow's perspective, I wanted to show how coming to the conclusion that you're a lez isn't easy but that when it's coupled with love it can be effing amazing.
Notes- Thanks to Diane and ophelia11 for BETA-ing this for me and encouraging me to write more of it.
The True Story of Me and She
She. Her. Girl. Woman. The feminine-type person I’m in love with. I never imagined that love could be like this, so open, so honest, so layered. And all those years I wondered, I waited, I even thought I’d found it, but then he left and before then I cheated on him which kinda makes the whole thing something of a mockery I guess. Plus he was a he… Him. His. Boy. Man. Me and him, hers and his, boy and girl. They tell you it’s supposed to be like that.
I mean I did love him, at least I thought I did, but it wasn’t like this. He could never floor me with a look or let me know with the tilt of a head what was on his mind. His eyes weren’t the deepest shade of blue, endless pools of deep-sea mystery. His body wasn’t soft. It was hard, it had edges. Hers is different, it’s… hmmm…got lost there for a moment. Hers is soft and strong, skin like silk, curves like a cello. It has the most wonderful crevices. The first time I explored it I thought that I would melt from inside out. My desire flowing from me like lava, hers too, our meltage merging, we were hot, scalding, I felt like my soul was on fire. And it was so slow, our explorations of each other; simultaneously urgent and tenacious. I never thought I could desire or be desired so much, but since that first time we’ve seldom been away from each other’s arms, lips, bodies, selves. She is my sacred mountain, my solid mass formed from lava. It is my nightly (and morningly, afternoonish-time and eveningly) duty to worship her, my Chomolungma.
It happened slowly, my coming to these conclusions. There was, on the day we met, no time for introductions what with her being hushed at that awful Wicca group meeting and all. I didn’t get chance to learn more than her name, Tara, a girl whose face remained mostly hidden by a mane of blonde hair. And then the whole of Sunnydale was silenced. In danger she sought me and by accident (though it was really more than that, much more) we found each other and though the earth didn’t move when our hands touched that night the soda machine totally flew. Wow. There was definite sparkage. I mean I felt it, I felt her; she sent a jolt of electricity straight to my groin. I was conscious of being able to speak again before I was conscious that our hands were still entwined and that there was heat, my body was hot, not yet scalding but definitely warmer than it had been in a long time, maybe ever without being touched…
But then I, being me, rational girl, just put all my excitement down to getting caught in the moment, after all I’d never floated much more than a pencil before, and I put this shy, stuttering, beautiful girl to the back of my mind. Or at least I tried to. We would be buddies and hello? Heterosexual! We were friends, good friends, but friends. Firm friends, secret friends and did I mention that we were friends? I kept her apart from the rest of the Scoobies and anyone else who might get in the way of my need to know her, to travel with her to her secret places. And travel we did. We floated a rose, why did I take a rose that night? A subconscious desire to see her bloom? Maybe. Roses are so complex, wound up scentless in a tight little bud only to flower and expose layer upon layer of petals and a rich, delicate fragrance. I guess that was us then, the bud part anyway. Both too afraid to reveal ourselves, her too afraid of rejection to bloom and me of the whole gay-love…oh my goddess does that mean I’m a lesbo? I’ve always been an outsider (geek, Jewish, redhead, friends with the Slayer, friends with Xander) and that’s fine, besides my friends see beyond all that but what if they can’t understand this and hate me or freak? What if I freak and hurt her? That would be more than I could bear. Focus Willow. We’re friends, good friends, firm friends, secret friends, why is she a secret? Her eyes are amazing and when we touch hands when we do spells something happens to me, there’s that heat...Oh my goddess does that mean I’m a lesbo?...To the point of total shutdown of normal synaptic function and I was talking about roses and floatiness but her hands, I come apart when she touches me with those hands or looks at me with those eyes and her mouth? Her curvy smile, her lips? How could anyone not think about those lips?
So think I did. I thought about what being more than kinda gay might mean. I mean I know it doesn’t merge well with the whole Jewish thing but seeing as I haven’t really been to Synagogue since my Bat Mitzvah I guess that’s the least of my worries. It sits well with the whole Wicca thing (All acts of Love and Pleasure are My rituals) and the whole I really like her thing. She. Her. Girl. Woman. Me and she, hers and hers, girl meets girl, girl on girl actually, seeing as we already did the meets part. It made me crazy for oh, about thirty seconds until I realised that I was, and am, in love in a deeper and more substantial way than I ever thought possible. And she’s a witch too, see? Connections on many levels. So, I decided, I’ll tell her, that’s what I’ll do, I’ll tell her. But telling is so hard. Telling means more than it did when I told Oz or even Xander. Telling means going in to something as well as coming out and am I ready to do that? Am I more than kina gay and leaning towards really very gay, totally gay? What if no-one understands? Did Tara even tell you that she was gay? Synaptic functions please return to normal or at least slow down – head aches and stomach is acidy. Of course she’s gay, she told you, remember? Right after the rose floating goodness – you told her all about Oz and she told you about the girl she’d kissed in high school and whose hand she would hold under the table in math and who told Tara that it was a phase and a sin stopped talking to her. Tara said, ‘I-It wasn’t a ph-phase for me…’ and you held her hand and smiled into those endless pools of deep-sea mystery.
When my telling finally came it was classic Willow-talk (not to be confused with pillow talk, though I’m not much good at that either, I have, only once in my defence, tried to compare love making to chemical formulae; “You know Tare, in chemistry organic compounds are much more complicated than inorganic ones and that’s kinda funny ‘cause people are kinda organic compound-y and the formula for the successful merging of people is way more complex than the way, for example, a table and chairs merge. I-I mean it took us a long time to merge, I guess that was ‘cause of me though. Tare? You awake?”
“I’m t-trying not to be”. You see? I don’t find these things easy. But I had to tell her. I had to. It was killing me. I needed to kiss her, to feel her lips against mine, to know the wetness of her mouth, to see the surrender in her eyes before our mouths merged. With guys it’s always them that make the first move, in Willow-world anyway. I waited for Oz to make his move and Oi Vey, Xander? You’d think it’d be worth waiting since kindergarten for. And having not been gay before, at least not in this dimension…what to do? How to say? When it finally happened I blurted. I mean I had a whole speech in my head prepared for The Right Moment: Tara. We’re friends, good friends. Firm friends (no not firm – what are we? inorganic compounds? Note to self: scratch firm). Tara. We’re friends right? Good friends. In fact I don’t know how I’d’ve gotten through the last couple of months without you and your friendship (aren’t they one and the same thing? I guess that depends upon how you view the self – Willow! Focus, you’re trying to woo her not spew lecture notes all over her). Well I like you Tara. I mean I really like you, like in the people-who-like-each-other way of liking. I mean I like you in a smooch-y and gay love-y way though I’m not sure if I’m more than kinda gay at this point, I mean I am kinda gay ‘cause hey, attracted to you and everything…Smooth huh? But when I finally told her how I felt it wasn’t at all The Right Moment I had in my head but another girl that prompted The Big Reveal. I was so worried about Faith being back, that girl is wild beyond taming and I didn’t want Tara-Time to be interrupted by her or anyone else any more than it already had been, “I wish she would make a move. She’s making my stomach all acidy.” She was, I had to take Pepto Bismol caplets that morning and everything. “But you think Buffy can handle her?”
“I think so, but that doesn’t mean Faith won’t hurt someone else…” If she, or anyone else hurt you I’d…well I’d…I’m friends with the Slayer and she could kick their asses on my behalf but that goes such a short way to expressing how out of my mind I would be if she, or anyone else hurt you, Tara. Tara is speaking, “Well, you should be safe; nobody knows you’re here…I-I mean…they don’t even know I exist, right? I know all about them, but…” Oh God you’re hurting. I made you hurt, I’ll make Buffy kick my ass…
I whispered to her, “Hey”. I put my hand on her knee, there’s that warmth again, every time I touch her I feel it, there’s magic between us. There’s magic. Between us. Magic. The sum total of all the spells we’d ever done together, from the soda machine to the rose floating, it all hit me like a Mack truck. There is magic between me and Tara. That’s part of why I told no-one about her, I didn’t want to break the spell. But now I know it, I know it. There is no spell to break, there is magic between us and as long as we’re together there always will be. I realised then that she was talking to me and she was nervous, it was making her stammer, “I mean …Th…that’s totally cool…I mean…it…its good. It’s…its better.” Okay it’s now or never, tell her. Tell her. You want her, make her know how much you want her, look at her, she’s beautiful, look at her lips, her eyes…Mouth opening brain not engaged, “Tara, it’s not like I don’t want my friends to know you …It’s just…Well, Buffy’s like my best friend, and she’s really special (‘best friend’? What are you? Five?) And…there’s this whole bunch of us, and…and we sort of have this group thing that revolves around the slaying, and…and, I…I really want you to meet them. But, I…I just kinda, like having something that’s just…you know…mine…And I…I usually don’t use so many words to say stuff that little…But...Do you get it at all?” Get it? How could anyone get it? I like having something that’s mine? Cryptic much? You are such a wuss, Rosenberg. Why didn’t you say someone? That’s what you meant. But am I really more than kinda gay…You’ll never find out if you stall any longer. Oh wait, she’s speaking again…“I do”. She does. She gets it. She’s smart now kiss her…Mouth opening brain not engaged, “I should check in with Giles, get a situation update.” What are you doing? A situation update? There is magic between you, magic. That is the only situation you need to update. “I am you know,” She spoke again, she is you know, is… “What?”
“Yours.” Before I could speak again or, more importantly ‘cause it doesn’t always get me very far, before I could think again, her words hit me. They hit my heart, they hit my brain, they hit my stomach dispelling all the acid. They sent waves of desire crashing through my body towards my centre, I’d never, never felt my body the way I did then. I felt the grin spread across my face before I had time to compose myself for The Appropriate Reaction I’d rehearsed. Remember my speech? There was only one reaction to her telling. I moved towards her, she was sitting on her bed. Look at her, look at her, she’s so…much. She’s like Venus rising out of the sea, like Helen about to sink a thousand ships, she’s mine, now claim her – in a non-patriarchal way. I sat next to her and took her hands in mine. We couldn’t look away from each other, it was like her words and my movement had lifted the scales from our eyes and we were seeing, really seeing each other for the first time. I brushed her hair from her face with my hand and cupped her cheek, her skin was like velvet. I stroked her cheek with my thumb, and barley audibly she moaned. That was all I needed. I leant towards her, never looking away from her eyes. I wanted her to see, and by seeing to know. To know that she and she alone had found me, found my core, my essence. She had unlocked me from a lifetime of worrying about not being tall enough, being too thin, being geeky and holding myself oddly, from studying hard stuff to avoid truly looking at who I am. I held her face and saw my thoughts, my desire mirrored. Our lips met. I had never in my life been so hungry for anyone.
Everything changed then, I changed. Kinda gay? If this is gay completely gay. We kissed for what seemed like hours, lips crashing, tongues clashing, desire mounting. I felt all that I had been float away and a new, better version of me take up residence in my tall enough, curvy enough, un-geeky and perfectly poised body. This new self would still study hard stuff but there’re some things a girl can’t change. What were the next words I spoke? Our faces an inch apart, her warm and ragged breath merging with mine, “Tara, that was…wow…I mean I’ve never…wow…I…wow. I mean I really need to call Giles now but can we do that again right after?” What did she say? What else could she say but smile her perfectly crooked smile and reply, “Yes”.
