Hello, kittens most incredible…Here’s the final installment of this fic. Your feedback and encouragement have been so amazing; I really appreciate the time and effort that you’ve put into your responses. I anticipate starting another story in approximately two weeks. (Hear that, JD? I got your back, woman!) I’ll definitely respond to feedback after this final posting, as well.
And as for individual responses…I love this part!
]]Insanity: Hope you like the last page—thanks for all your encouragement.
]]Sonya: Your message has been gratefully acknowledged and acted upon; behold, I no longer berate myself! Thanks for keeping the self-flagellation in check; it’s not one of my finer points. (Or did I just do it again?) I totally get your point about wanting the freedom to muse about a character’s motivation as s/he is doing it. There’s definitely such a thing as showing too much of someone’s mental life. I’m glad you liked the exploration of Oz’s dark side as it involves his human aspect. And yeah, it was good to write Willow’s declaration that she would have fallen in love w/ Tara regardless of the circumstances. Thank you so much for your support and feedback during this endeavor; and hey—don’t criticize your OWN writing, OK? Thanks again; you absolutely rock!
]]Mollyig: It’s always fun to write the humor of these characters. They’re just so rich. I’m glad the conversation felt well-done to you; it felt so incredibly important that I didn’t want to short-change it at all. And you’re right: it’s important that Oz recognize that there is no defense of his actions, even though he still wants to believe that he could never do such a thing again. Thanks a lot for your input and your encouragement.
]]Ruth: You know, I think we could probably get t-shirts with that school’s logo on it, and wouldn’t it be a fine thing to DESIGN that logo? Anyone with a right hemisphere to her/his brain, knock yourself out! I share your preference for love that both protects the beloved when necessary and trusts the beloved’s strength. And you’re right—Oz is an amazingly complicated picture here, and I think his character in canon lends itself to a myriad of interpretations, as the various responses here indicate. I’m glad the exploration has felt like a worthwhile one to you. As ever, I appreciate your responses and your encouragement of this fic. And let me know when the class reunion is, OK?
]]BV: Yeah, I think of a lot of us are rethinking our school choices after learning of the fine institution at Manchester…It felt important to explore the "what if" aspect of Willow’s decision: what if she had met Tara while w/ Oz? And I didn’t want him (in this fic) continuing to believe that all would have been different if only he hadn’t left. Thanks for your kind words and for following this story the way you have.
]]Tulipp: Ah, you picked up on the meaning of Willow leaving Tara at the hospital…I definitely had some energy around that. (See my comment to Ruth re: protection vis-à-vis respect in love.) Each of our girls will kick some serious ass when her beloved is threatened, but I think they also recognize how strong the other is and in fact that’s part of their appeal. Thanks for your insights and ruminations.
]]JD: So glad you loved the Mounds joke! I was just sitting here at some ungodly hour of the night/morning and describing Buffy’s support of Willow and Tara; and I realized that Buffy would want to bring something to Tara (she’s a "show don’t tell" kinda girl, I think) but that she wouldn’t know Tara’s favorite kind of chocolate. And I just love that Giles is beyond being stunned by such things but that they still register to him. That was one of the most enjoyable exchanges for me, although it was so brief. You have amazing ideas and feedback about Willow’s evolution. I’ve often been struck by the difficulty of the show in balancing the characters’ basic naivete (after all, they’re in their early 20’s!) with the inevitable darkening that would come after the horrors and personal losses they’ve endured. I just felt like there was no room for cutesy babbling Willow at this particular inn on this particular night. I share your need for humor as a ballast and rhythmic counterpoint for angst and drama. Besides, it’s a hoot to write! Finally, I guess you can consider my comments in the general paragraph low on subtlety but high on frankness. Thanks a lot for wanting more; it’s the greatest feedback you could give. And as ever, thank you for your remarkable comments and insights re: the last installment.
]]Grimaldi: Glad you liked the humor. It’s definitely one of my favorite parts to write. Thanks a lot for the encouragement and responses.
]]LittleCrazy80: You know I wouldn’t let our beautiful Tara be transformed into some howling, flea-bitten, over-sized hairball, right? Of course not…Thanks for the kind words!
]]Caolin: Like JD, you have great ideas on Willow’s maturity and evolution. It just didn’t seem feasible to have her be all cute and flustered. I’ve always thought that Willow rose to her most confident heights in the protection of those she loved. And yeah, I’ve been increasingly disenchanted with Buffy’s self-absorption in the past two years. It was fun to write her being a real friend. Thanks a lot for the thoughtfulness of your ideas and for taking the time to write them. Hope you like the last installment!
]]Karen: It definitely seemed important to have Oz know that things wouldn’t be different now if he had stayed; that Willow would have in fact chosen Tara, only under even more painful circumstances. Thanks for your ideas about this last chapter, and for sharing them w/ me. I appreciate it!
]]Nickole: Glad you liked the Mounds comment—definitely fun to write! And smoochies? Oh, girl—you want ’em, you got ’em! Thanks for responding!
]]Jixer: I’m glad the Oz solution seemed workable. I really struggled with it, but just couldn’t see either killing him or turning him over to the Initiative. I know people had a range of responses to the decision. I love your observation about a werewolf aikido instructor—wherever could we get him one? Lemme look through my search engine…It was good to write a more decisive Willow, b/c I felt this situation called for it and that she could rise to the occasion if Tara were involved. And thanks for the contact info; I’ll take that route ’cause I would like to see where you’ve directed your talents! Thanks for the insight and thoughtfulness of your responses.
]]VampNo12: Once again, you out-do yourself~~and in law school, no less! I think briefs can be interesting; it just depends on who’s in them. Yes, the scene at the hospital felt incredibly important to me, to show both their protectiveness and their confidence in each other’s strength and resilience. Our girls ain’t sissies, and each knows it about the other. I definitely wanted some levity in this installment, for balance and to catch our breaths. In addition, I just love writing it. I was absolutely knocked over by your observations on Willow’s evolution. You’re right—she’s had to grow up, and make decisions that are so far beyond what most of us will ever face. When her heart and her brain are in sync, the girl just blows us all away. As I commented above, I think Willow comes through most confidently in the protection or advocacy of someone she loves; hence her calm in this exchange w/ Oz. And the exchanges between Oz, who recognizes the horror of what he’s done but wants to believe he could never do it again, and Willow, who’s there to tell him that he can and if he’s not careful he will, felt incredibly important to me. I’m glad they resonated with you. Thank you, as ever, for your incredible feedback and insight. I hope you like the final installment.
]]Zahir: How funny that you would mention haiku in response to my comments over in "Childhood’s Hour"! (You’ll understand in a few minutes.) I cracked up at the irony. Thanks for the kind words.
]]SlowontheUptake: (Have I mentioned how much I love your name?) I know it was probably tough to read Oz as a baddie, but I appreciate that you saw it through and could see the AU possibilities of it. The humor is just a bonus for me in writing this fic. If characters can’t take themselves w/ a grain of salt, I get real tired real quickly. Thanks for the support and encouragement!
]]SisterBertrille: Oh, yeah…I struggled mightily with what to do w/ Oz. Kill him? Turn him over to the Initiative? Keep him permanently anesthetized and use him as a very singular conversation piece? Oh, the quandary of it all…I definitely agree that there’s some risk going on here; but I also think Willow is acting at least in part on what Tara would want as well. Willow’s inner dialogue about not wanting revenge? I think Tara is even more disinclined. It’s almost like they had to choose b/w some residual fear of Oz, vs. having his blood on their hands in a way that might have proven difficult for both of them as individuals and for their relationship. I’m glad Giles and Buffy are working for you. They’re fun to write, esp. Giles; and I much prefer Buffy as a slightly less self-involved woman. Thanks for pulling from Corsican literature and any other muses that impel your musings and sharing your reactions w/ me.
]]Darcy: Hey, no need to apologize for late posting. I’m just glad you’ve been checking it all out! I also like the budding maturity of these characters; let’s face it, they have to make some difficult choices. I laughed when I read how much it grates on you when characters stop in the middle of some (literally) apocalyptic moment to have a "Dawson’s Creek" moment. And I very much believe that Oz’s laconic demeanor could have hidden something less innocuous than most of us assumed. Moreover, your use of the word "laconic" is a source of great pleasure to me. Thank you for that, and for the thoughtfulness of your response in general.
And now, back to our story
Premise: Way the heck back in S4, Willow makes a difficult choice
Disclaimer: Joss and ME own all of these characters, to the extent that it’s possible for anyone to "own" anything in this transient, ineffable thing we call life.
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Up to the end of "New Moon Rising"
Distribution: But of course…Please give credit and disclaimer. Thanks.
Feedback: I’d definitely appreciate it.
Summary: Willow initially chose Oz, in no small part b/c she believed he needed her more. It became clear, however, that her love for Tara was only growing. Willow ran into Tara at the Bronze, only to find Tara there with another woman. Willow fled, Tara followed, Big Time Sensuality (to quote Bjork) ensued. Much later, Oz stopped by on an ill-advised whim. He wolfed out, but Tara employed a soothing spell that included, in essence, offering herself to the werewolf while Willow was anchored in a state of safety and calm. After a rather tenuous stand-off, Oz bounded out the door, still in wolf form. The next day, Willow and Tara called a Scooby meeting to talk about the night’s events, a conversation that included Willow coming out to everyone. The meeting ended with the plan that everyone try to locate Oz, using a reasoned mixture of caring and caution. Willow and Tara spent the next day making love and just basically wallowing in each other. Tara sent Willow off for some quality time with Buffy; when Willow’s calls went unanswered, Willow became worried. She and Buffy went to Tara’s room, only to find a mess. Tara was nowhere to be found. Turns out that Oz had gone first to Willow’s room to apologize but then, not finding her there, looked for her at Tara’s room. He was making his way through his regrets, including his intention to leave town, when the phone rang: Willow left a message saying how much she loved Tara and asking her to call. At that point, Oz kept himself from changing—but only in order to get Tara back to his hiding place. In other words, he chose to act in a violent way. Meanwhile, Willow and Buffy managed to find Tara using Willow’s mental connection to her beloved. Tara was hurt but not mortally so. Buffy kicked Oz very forcefully in his testicles. This hurt him quite a bit. At the hospital, Tara received some stitches but had suffered no internal injuries. At Giles’ place (where Buffy had taken Oz), Willow got as much of an explanation out of Oz as he could give her. Willow, Buffy, and Giles decided to implant a chip in Oz’s head w/ Riley’s help; Oz agreed that this was the best plan available. Willow said goodbye to Oz and headed back to the hospital to be with her beloved, who was to be discharged that day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
On Second Thought: Conclusion
"Keep ’em closed, OK? Are they closed? I think I see a little daylight between those lids!"
"Honey, I appreciate you wanting to surprise me, but one of us has to watch where we’re going or we’ll both end up back in the hospital."
"Hey, no hospital talk! We just broke you outta there this morning; we’re not going back. Although I must say, there was a great view…"
"Willow, what are you talking about? My room faced a billboard advertising a hemorrhoid ointment."
"I meant your gown. What a great view of two matching works of natural splendor!" Willow grinned to herself at Tara’s immediate blush. She suspected that she would have great fun over the next several years finding various ways to convince Tara of just how incredibly beautiful she was…even when she had bruises all over her neck, chest and arms; even when she had stitches binding together her vulnerable flesh. Then she forced the scary thoughts out of her head, knowing that though she wasn’t finished with them, they didn’t have to plague her every waking moment. She pulled Tara gently along the hallway, steering her clear of potential hazards. "Yep, every time I think I’ve found my favorite spot on you, I see you from a different angle and I have to head back into the voting booth and recast my ballot."
Tara pulled up abruptly, a sly grin skittering across her face. She kept her eyes completely closed. "Come back here," she ordered. Willow looked at her with curiosity, but complied. "Closer," Tara requested, "so I can whisper something in your ear."
Willow drew close to Tara and obediently placed her ear next to the curving lips. "What is it, Baby?"
"My nipples are hard."
Willow found herself gulping for air as her belly tripped and tumbled. "Oh my God, Tara, you can’t tell me things like that and not expect me to—"
"Just as I thought," Tara noted triumphantly. "You’re a breast girl, first and foremost." She kissed Willow gently on the ear, and then said breezily, "Lead on, MacDuff."
Willow sent strict instructions to all points south of her solar plexus to please behave themselves for at least the next few hours. The points sent back word that they couldn’t promise anything.
At last they reached Tara’s dorm room. Willow positioned Tara in front of her, and then reached around and knocked out five short raps, the agreed-upon signal being the first line from "We Are Family" by Sister Sledge. As Buffy pulled the door open, Willow whispered, "Take a look, Baby."
Tara opened her eyes, and Willow heard her sudden gasp.
The tiny room, which had always had a magical feel to it by virtue of its fairy lights and its wonderful scents and its occupant, was now practically enchanted. After visiting Tara at the hospital and giving Willow the news that Oz had left, Buffy had headed out to enjoy one of the more delicious aspects of being someone’s best friend: helping that friend surprise her beloved. After a whispered consultation in the hall ("Does this involve evisceration, exsanguination, or existential anguish?" Tara had called out from her bed. "’Cause I’d suggest we just wait and see the movie."), Buffy had made the rounds for various supplies.
Yellow rose petals were strewn everywhere—the floor, the desk, and most especially the bed. "Put a lot of petals on the bed, OK?" she had instructed Buffy after handing her Tara’s room key. "But just petals, remember, not the whole rose."
"Got it: that’s a ‘yes’ to petals; a ‘no’ to pricks. I should remember that more often."
At the same florist, Buffy had procured miniature pots of lavender, sage, and thyme, which now sat in various places of optimum sunlight.
She had popped into the candle shop and emerged twenty minutes later weighed down with enough tapers and pillars to illuminate a black hole and Rush Limbaugh’s mind. All had been lit, and shadows from the flames jumped, sashayed, and ambled along the walls.
Finally, at a card store, she had purchased blue and gold glitter. From the appearance of the room, she had simply walked through the door and gone into convulsions. Glitter was flung over every possible surface; it looked as if the entire room were winking tiny eyes of maize and cobalt.
"Welcome back," Willow said simply.
"I—I don’t know what to say." Tara’s eyes were filled with tears. She looked at Buffy, who stood gazing back at her affectionately. "You did all this?"
"Well, me and Martha Steward trade off sometimes. I was actually gonna make a lovely sachet out of vampire dust until I remembered they smelled like oven-dried sewage." She walked over to Tara and took her hand gently. "Is it OK to hug you?"
"Oh yes; Willow won’t get jealous unless you grab my ass."
"Tara! I’m afraid that Willow is rubbing off on you, and oh God don’t I wish I’d picked a different phrase…What I meant was, will it hurt you if I hug you?"
"I don’t think so. Just be gentle with me." Watching Buffy move tentatively into Tara’s arms, Willow realized again just how many layers there were to her girl. The more secure she felt in her place with someone, the looser (and the naughtier) she became. She felt her own eyes sting dangerously as she watched her two favorite people in the world begin to establish their own particular language.
As Buffy stepped back, Tara added, "Thank you, Buffy. For everything. I don’t know how I can ever repay you."
"Well, here at the First National Bank of Scooby, we have a policy of rotating credit. Today I help save your ass; tomorrow you help save mine. Actually, a simple ‘thank you’ pretty much erases any debt." Her expression became serious. "Just take very good care of Willow, OK?" She smiled, but there was no doubt that she meant what she said.
"Always," Tara whispered, squeezing Willow’s hand. Willow raised their linked fingers to her lips, and kissed Tara’s hand gently.
"So—that takes care of today’s Touching Moment," Buffy noted, passing her hand quickly over her eyes to wipe away her own tears. "Giles, Riley, Xander, and Anya are going to be here in a few minutes. We didn’t want to overwhelm you when you walked in the door. Welcome to Casa de Tara; please make yourself comfortable. Your server will be with you in just a moment." With that, she marched over to the miniature refrigerator and began pulling out bottles of water and sodas. A plate of cookies sat on top of the appliance.
Scarcely a minute later, the remaining friends crowded into the tiny space. Without preamble, Anya strode purposefully up to Tara and peered at her. She seemed to think that the attack had left Tara either deaf or perhaps mentally impaired, because she said slowly and very loudly, "I’M GLAD OZ DIDN’T KILL YOU AND EAT YOU."
Willow felt her heart slam into her ribcage at the words. When she caught her breath, she snorted derisively, not caring who heard her. "Wow, Anya, that’s a truly touching sentim—" But she was interrupted by Tara, who took Anya’s hand and without irony or sarcasm or any other Scooby staple, said, "Me too, Anya. Thank you."
And Anya just beamed. Her eyes lit up at the praise, and she gave a delighted little clap, and Willow thought she would have to order more face to accommodate all of her grin. Watching the scene, she realized that for all of the orgasms Xander may have given her, Tara had just treated Anya with more humanity than anyone else in the ex-demon’s short mortal life span. And she realized, too, that it was a touching sentiment, because it was true. Hallmark wouldn’t be hiring Anya to write verse any time soon, but she was truly glad that Tara was OK and she told her so in those very specific ways. Looking at Xander, she saw him looking at Tara with a mixture of gratitude and deepening interest. Hope the interest doesn’t have anything to do with her breasts, she thought suddenly, recalling Anya’s revelation at Giles’.
Riley offered Tara a gentle hug. Drawing near, Willow could hear Tara say to him, "Your girlfriend is pretty amazing, Riley." To which he grinned and said, "I was thinking the same thing about yours. Willow looks so happy…It’s just—it’s so good. She deserves it." He laughed a little sheepishly. "I wanted to get you a card, but none of them seemed…appropriate, you know? I mean, nothing really fits situations like ours, does it?"
Buffy looked up at the observation. "Hey—we could totally start a new business and make a bundle. Imagine a card shop specific to Hell Mouth events!"
Xanders’s eyes lit up. "Hey, you’re right! Of course, most of them would be sympathy cards, but at least they’d fit the occasion!"
Buffy jumped in. "I got one: ‘Your loved one is not truly gone; in fact, she’ll be back later on to drain every last ounce of blood out of your body. Sucks being you.’"
"Ooh, that’s a nice one, Buff," Willow enthused. "And we could have all different styles, too. Maybe some haiku!" Pausing, she hastily counted on her fingers as she silently mouthed various ideas. "Here we go: ‘That which you have raised,/Behold, has been raised anew!/Your son’s a vampire.’ It’s cultured and tasteful."
"Well, we don’t want to totally forget about the good stuff," Tara interjected. "I mean, we’d want to celebrate love in all its wonderful forms." Willow grinned at her with an almost painful adoration. "How about…‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Well, for one thing, roses don’t burst into flames when the sun hits ’em.’" She beamed with pleasure when laughter greeted her contribution.
I am besotted. I don’t even know what "besotted" means, and frankly, it sounds sorta messy or dirty, and not the good kind of dirty. But I don’t care. I am sampling every darn dish at the Besotted Buffet.
Giles gave Tara a CD of Dvorak’s "Symphony from the New World." She squeezed his hand, thanking him earnestly. "I’ve only heard snippets of it," she said. "I’m so glad you knew what it was."
"Well, I’m just glad there’s a level of culture that’s entered into our merry band," the librarian smiled. "If you like that, I suspect you’d also enjoy—"
"Your stirring loins?" Willow looked at him in mock-warning. "Don’t even think it, Buster."
"Yes, well, if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to impale myself on some sharp object so as to die immediately. Tara, do enjoy the music." So saying, he moved quickly over to the refreshments now sitting on Tara’s desk.
"You are incorrigible, Willow Rosenberg. What am I going to do with you?" And though the words were scolding, the tone suggested something far more collaborative.
"Wait until the Power Point presentation," Willow said placatingly. "It gives very detailed suggestions."
"Hey Will—are you gonna stay over here at Tara’s for now, until she’s off the disabled list?" Xander asked around a mouthful of chocolate-chip cookie.
"Yeah. Just to help out with things, make life a little easier for her."
"I’m still pretty sore," Tara added. "I see myself sort of lounging around in a dressing gown eating chocolate and being waited on."
"Bathing will probably be difficult," Anya commented matter-of-factly. "You’ll probably have to help her with that."
"Do my trials never end?" Willow murmured with a grin.
Xander stepped forward eagerly. "Listen, Willow, if you need any help with that—you know, helping Tara in and out of bed—"
"OK, in the first place, no; and in the second place, a synonym for no." She glared at her friend, knowing that he would probably create all sorts of visuals about that last matter and that his orgasms with Anya would probably be helped along by those visuals.
After about forty minutes, Willow caught Buffy’s eye; the Slayer disentangled herself from Anya’s excited discourse about boils within body cavities and edged over to Willow. "What’s up, Will?"
"Well, you know, it’s been a long day—heck, a long three days for Tara and I think it might be a good idea for her to get some rest, not that it’s not good for her to have all of you over here and can I just tell you how much I appreciate the decorations? So, definitely not down-playing the recuperative powers of friendship and visitations here, oh no, I was just thinking that maybe—"
"Hey everybody, listen up! Willow needs us to leave so she can get Tara into bed." She turned to Willow and smiled. "See? Things don’t have to be so hard."
At her words, Giles had all but vaulted over the desk to reach the door, giving Tara a quick pat on the arm in passing. Riley was barely a step behind him. Xander and Anya seemed inclined to linger, until Buffy glared at them both.
"But you heard her," Anya protested as Buffy herded them toward the door. "She thanked me. Clearly I mean a lot to her now."
"Call if you need anything, Will." Xander’s voice trailed off as Buffy shut the door behind him.
"You guys feel safe here? Is there anything I can do to help you feel all…secure?"
Willow pulled Buffy in her arms and hugged her fiercely. "I don’t know what I’d do without you, Buffy. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had." She could feel Buffy holding onto her tightly. "Right back ’atcha, Willow. I’m a phone call away, OK?" She turned to Tara. "Welcome home. And welcome to the tiny little slice of wackiness we call our home." Tara gave Buffy a gentle but very long hug. "Willow’s lucky to have you in her life." To which Buffy replied, "I think we’re both pretty lucky to have Willow in our lives." Pulling back, she nodded in Willow’s direction. "But don’t let her hear me say that, OK? It sorta undermines the whole ironic teasing thing, you know?" And then she left, pulling the door shut behind her.
Turning to look at her beloved, Willow found herself at a loss for words. As usual, Tara came through for her.
"All of those nice people left just so you could get me into bed, Willow. What are you waiting for?"
Their love-making was an erotic combination of lust and restraint. Willow was extremely aware of Tara’s wounds, including her lower lip, which hadn’t needed stitches but which was still very tender. She thought for a moment, and then propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at Tara in the flickering lights of the candles. "I have an idea."
"There’s something new and different," Tara said with a wry smile.
"Please save your comments for the evaluation that you will be asked to complete at the end of this encounter," Willow replied haughtily. "All joking aside, Tara, I am so desperately eager to touch you and make love to you, but Baby—you’re sore. I’m terrified of hurting you. I couldn’t bear it if I did something that hurt you."
Tara looked up at her, eyes bright with unshed tears. "Why does everything you say just melt me? I think I could listen to you read the phone book and you’d make my heart sing."
"Well, if you heard me sing, it would make your ears melt." Willow leaned down gently and kissed the tip of Tara’s nose. "So here’s my idea: How about you point out all the places that don’t hurt and I’ll kiss those spots."
"I like this idea," Tara said, laughing softly. After a moment’s pause, she pointed to her right cheek. Willow bent down obediently and pressed her lips fully into the soft flesh of Tara’s cheek. Tara smiled at her, and then pointed to her forehead. Willow shifted her weight and draped soft kisses along the smooth, warm skin. Tara gave her a slightly more mischievous smile, and pointed to her right ear. "Awright," Willow murmured in a low voice, taking the soft lobe between her lips and sucking gently; and then she circled the intricate ridge of Tara’s ear with slow, steady swirls of her tongue. She heard Tara’s sudden intake of breath, and smiled at the sound.
"I can feel myself healing so incredibly fast," Tara observed, as she pointed to her right breast. Willow moved onto all fours and straddled Tara’s body, Careful not to press any weight onto Tara’s injured body, she lowered her mouth to Tara’s taut, full breast. She kissed all around its warmth, gradually moving closer to Tara’s nipple. Pausing with her lips just above the swollen flesh, she said softly, "And this? This spot is OK?" And then she flicked her tongue over the taut nipple, and circled it gently; at last, she sucked it hungrily into her mouth. She heard Tara groan above her, and felt her arch up into Willow’s mouth. "Oh, God, Willow…You’re so good at this."
"I’m good at you," Willow amended briefly, and then turned her attention back to Tara’s breast. "Is its companion also OK?"
"Oh yes. OK, and very easily hurt if it doesn’t get as much attention."
"Can’t have that," Willow said softly, and moved slightly to nuzzle and suck Tara’s other breast. After several minutes, Tara lifted Willow’s head from her breasts and looked hungrily into her eyes.
"There’s one other spot that doesn’t hurt." Her breathing was labored. Willow held her gaze, and then slid her fingers down to the soft, curling hair and parted Tara’s lips slowly.
"Here?" It was difficult to speak. She eased one finger along the swollen labia and then gently pressed into the wetness.
"Yes; oh Willow." As much as Willow craved Tara’s sweet wetness, she wanted to stay where she was, propped up on one arm, leaning protectively over her lover while she stroked the swollen folds and teased her clit and penetrated her as deeply as Tara would want.
"Oh, God, Willow…I need you so much. I need you with me."
She fought her way around the tears in her voice. "Always, Baby. Nothing can take me away from you." She stroked with both hunger and leisure, feeling Tara’s body respond and matching her own tempo to her lover’s. "Tara, I want to hold you, like this, when you come. Is—is that OK?"
"Oh yes. God, Baby, yes." Her lips parted and her breathing grew ragged. "Willow, I’m so ready. I can feel it building, so good…"
"Take your time, Love. We have all the time in the world now." Willow felt tears slide over her cheeks and splash onto Tara’s face. Tara reached up with one hand and gently brushed the tears off of her own cheek, and then offered her fingers to Willow’s lips. Willow kissed the salty taste from Tara’s flesh.
"Willow, please…Faster, just a little bit." As Willow gladly granted the request, she could feel Tara’s body start to quiver. Will I ever not just explode inside when she’s ready to come? In those seconds right before it starts? Impossible… Tara gripped her shoulders tightly, and Willow heard her catch her breath.
"Willow; Baby, I’m coming…Just like that, oh goddess…" And then she called out Willow’s name, once more, and the shuddering force ripped through her body. Willow held her as tightly as she dared while the ripples coursed through Tara’s body. When they finally subsided, Tara reached up to Willow’s face. Willow could see that now Tara was crying.
"What is it, Baby?"
"Willow…I can’t believe you chose me."
Willow bent lower until her lips were poised just over Tara’s. "Then let me spend the next sixty or so years convincing you that I did."
Tara smiled, a crooked half-smile that Willow thought should be framed for all the world to see. "Let the convincing begin."
As she nestled close to Tara, careful to avoid the bruises, Willow closed her eyes for a moment in silent awe at her heart’s wondrous fortune.
I did the right thing.
THE END
Edited by: AntigoneUnbound at: 11/19/02 11:35:10 pm