The Kitten, the Witches and the Bad Wardrobe - Willow & Tara Forever

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 Post subject: Unrelated: A Tara-centric story
PostPosted: Tue Nov 25, 2008 2:36 am 
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6. Sassy Eggs
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Joined: Wed Jun 04, 2008 3:40 am
Posts: 392
Topics: 1
Location: Melbourne, Australia
Title Unrelated
Author name Millerchip77
Rating PG13 - no smut - yet ;)
Disclaimer I don't own Willow or Tara or anyone; they belong to ME etc
Feedback Definitely - feedback rules
Summary After the first story I wrote, which was Willow centred, a few people were interested in me writing a Tara-centred story. I wanted to give Tara a bit more of a back story than we got on BtVS, so this first chapter is about her early years, before she moved to Sunnydale - therefore there's no Willow in this part, but she will arrive if y'all want me to continue...
Notes I hope I managed to speak with Tara's voice effectively. I'm hoping to continue the story and give Tara's perspective on the 'Family' episode. Here goes...

Chapter One: Going Home

You learn a lot when you’re young. Small stuff at first, like how to hold your head up, or to sit up and walk, to communicate through grunts and later words. There’s big stuff too, recognising your parents, learning how to behave, what love feels like, what makes you laugh or cry and how to tell the difference between those things. There’s official stuff like reading, writing, math and phys. ed. and unofficial stuff like knowing when dad’s angry or when mom’s in the mood to show you secret things. You are taught by teachers and your parents and you teach yourself things, like how to hide when dad’s angry, that your hair can act as a shield and how to avoid words that make you, words that, that make you, to avoid saying things that make you s-st…s…st-st-stammer. These are the things I have learned.

My mom was special. I mean all moms are special, most of them anyway. But my mom could do special things, secret things. I was really young when I became aware of this, maybe five or six. We lived in the country, and like most of the kids in my neighbourhood, I learned to ride. I felt so free on a horse, confident in a way that my stammer and otherwise awkwardness didn’t allow. I could focus; become one with the animal, the earth the wind, the trees. Mom would watch me and always she would tell me how good I was at riding and how proud she was of me. Mom knew I wanted a horse of my own, though I knew better than to ask for one. One night, as I was getting into bed, she came in to my room. She helped me into my pyjamas and into bed. “Tara you are a special girl, not just because you’re my girl, but because of what’s inside you”.
“Y-Y-You mean like my t-t-tummy, mommy?” She laughed her gentle laugh then and took my hand in hers. “Tara I have a special gift that I want to pass on to you. But it must be our secret, do you understand? You can’t tell your father or your brother, it’s a special, mommy and Tara thing. Do you understand?” I nodded, my eyes widening with wonder. “Tara everything in this world is connected. The trees, the sky, the grass, the moon, the clouds, the sun, the soil, and us. We’re all joined together, knotted together like rope”. I noticed then that she had with her a bag, and from the bag she took a candle, like a church candle, and a shiny stone like a crystal. “Tara if we feel our way along that rope, finding where things meet and where our place in the weave is, we can learn how everything works and we can learn how to use the power of all the things in nature.” She taught me then how to carve a picture of something I desired into the candle. It was always a horse when I was young, later my carvings became more abstract, but as a child it was a horse. Mom would light the candle for me, and I would hold the stone and think very hard about that thing, my desire, and stare into the flame. In this way I became one with the thing that I desired. It became a nightly ritual and though I may have never got my horse, this simple spell became my guide, it taught me how to focus and was my first step into a larger and more colourful world.

While mom saw the world with open eyes, my father was angry and intolerant; my shyness maddened him, and my stammer seemed to encapsulate all of his disappointment in me. Dad ruled his house with an iron fist, a literal iron fist. He had a bad temper which often boiled over at me when I dropped something or took too long to tell him about my day. Mom would try to stop him but this meant that he took his rage out on her too. My brother is my father’s son and learned how to bully me to show dad how much of a man he is, how like his father he is. The outward respectability made me sick; sitting in church, praying to God, whilst he made my mom’s and my life a misery, where was our salvation? We found it within each other, and in the magic she taught me when we were alone.

School was something I endured. The other kids seemed so harsh and their noisy games seemed to grate on me somehow. I was so shy; I preferred to blend into the background rather than to push myself forward. By junior high I was among the last to be picked for teams (“You have fat Sera, I’ll take tuh-tuh-Tara”), and by high school I had become an expert at not being noticed. I mean I did have friends; I was stronger than I gave myself credit for. Me and the other misfits hung together, eating lunch in quiet company meant you were less likely to be noticed.

I loved to learn though; mom awakened this in me that night when I was young. I was especially good at English, always acing tests and doing well at creative writing. I remember my 10th grade English teacher telling dad, “Tara has a vivid and exciting imagination Mr. Maclay”. I felt so proud of myself then, but dad replied, “That’s the problem”.

A lot happened in my seventeenth year, I learned a lot about myself. Lesson one: it is a terrible thing, to lose your mother. I know this because I did, my mom died. She got a rare form of breast cancer. So ironic that this life-giving body part was the part that took her away. She was so strong, she fought like a Trojan, but there was no surprise attack that could save her and slowly I watched her fade away, her face turning into a barley-recognisable mask of pain and defeat. Dad stopped me visiting about a week before she died. He was trying to protect me I guess, but I will never forgive him for denying me my chance to say goodbye.

Grief is such a powerful emotion; it changes you in ways you don’t expect. I had always felt so much but the grief I felt at mom’s death left me numb. It was like there was too much to feel all at once: confusion, rage, guilt, gratitude and a bottomless pit of sorrow. I lost sight of all she’d taught me, of all the times we’d talked about everything being connected, about the knot and how the dead are part of it. All I knew was that she had been taken from me and that I was lost. I hated the world and everything in it. The colour mom had taught me to see drained away and everything seemed so pallid, so grey.

I started skipping school, wanting to be totally alone. I would visit mom’s grave and just stare at the stone with her name, not really believing that she was there, under the ground, becoming one with it. I used to go to the park and aimlessly wander, hours would pass unnoticed. One day my wandering was interrupted. A girl who had recently started at my school was there too. We faced each other and she spoke to me, “Tara, right?” I nodded, not wanting the silence in my head to be broken and besides, I was s-s-so b-b-bad at m-m…so b-bad at m….at m-m-m-meeting new p…p-people. But she was persistent and as I walked away she said after me, “Wait. Want some company?” I didn’t really but I nodded anyway. She talked and I kinda zoned in and out, she told me that her name was Dale, that she’d moved to our town from Texas two months ago, that her father was a salesman and that she thought ‘school totally sucks’. I nodded my way through her monologue until she lit a cigarette and offered it to me. I took it, feeling rebellious. I sucked in and felt my lungs set alight and simultaneously collapse in my chest. I hacked, spitting the cigarette onto the floor. In between coughs I tried to apologise, but what with the coughing and my stammer this was an impossible task. But when I looked at Dale she was laughing. I hadn’t heard laughter since mom died three months before and the raucous, kind sound it made in her throat was infectious and before I knew it I was laughing too, in between coughs.

We became friends after that, meeting at the park and wandering together. She seemed not to notice my stammer and was the first person I ever spoke with, apart from mom, who didn’t try to finish my sentences for me. She made me feel safe and I could talk to her about anything, I told her about my parents, about dad’s anger and mom dying and how empty I felt, and she listened to me, she really listened.

One day we were sitting on the swings just talking and laughing, she was smoking a cigarette and blowing smoke rings – at this point I should say that I thought she was the coolest person I’d ever met. Her hair was cool, her clothes were cool, the way she spoke was cool, her eyes, her ears, her legs, her mouth – all cool. There was a pause in our chatter and Dale looked at me, as if regarding me for the first time. “Tara?” I nodded in response, “have you ever been in love?”
“N-No. I-I mean I h-h-haven’t had a b-boyfriend. You know th-that right?”
“Yeah I know that. But’cha don’t have to have a boyfriend to be in love. You know that, right?” She winked at me to let me know she was teasing. Goddess she was beautiful. “H-Have you?”
“What?”
“Ever b-been in love.” She sighed and replied, “I am in love, Tara”. I looked at the floor through my hair, thinking that she was about to tell me that she’d fallen for the captain of the baseball or worse, the football team. But she didn’t and what she would say next would change my life forever for the better and would ultimately lead me to her. But I will come to her later. For now Dale said, “Tara, look at me”. I raised my head, “I’m in love with you”. I felt my face redden, how was this possible? I stammered, my dad picked out my clothes; I was a nerd, how? I didn’t know what to say so I blurted out, “A-Are you sure?” Dale threw her head back and laughed at me. Then she got off of her swing and stood in front of me. The breeze caught her dark hair and blew it away from her face. She lifted up my chin with her hand and looked at me, I mean really looked at me. Then she leant down and kissed me. I’d never felt anything like it. I tasted her lipbalm (Carmex) and her cigarette (Lucky Strike); her mouth was so soft, so warm. Everything in the world seemed to tilt and was both crazier and more sensical, and I felt as though I had been purposefully led to this moment. Dale broke of the kiss and almost whispered, “I’m sure” before kissing me again.

We were caught ditching of course. The high school sent a letter to my dad who gave me the hiding of my life and then muttered some apology about mom and ‘wanting us to be a proper family’. I didn’t care though, I had Dale and for the first time since mom died I could feel. Dale and I kissed a lot after school in the park and cemented our union with hands held under the table in math class, by sharing lunches and glances over books in the library. But it came to an end when we got caught. Her folks were out at a Church meeting one night and we were careless. We were so glad to be alone and indoors that we left her bedroom door open and her mom came in and found me on top of her daughter, my hands under her shirt, our lips entwined. “Get out of my house you little heathen!” Her mom yelled at me. Dale couldn’t look at me as I scrambled away from her down the stairs and out of the house.

She told me the next day at school that she had begged her mom not to tell either of our fathers, her mom had agreed but only because Dale had told her about how dad could get. She betrayed my confidence, I felt so ashamed, so let down. She told me that they were moving away, her father followed the work. She said, “I can’t ever see you again Tara, not like that. What we did was wrong, it’s a sin, I know that now. I wanna get married some day and no man will ever want me if I’m dirty. It was a phase and it’s over”. I didn’t quite believe her, it sounded so rehearsed, but I didn’t protest. I knew I’d never be able to get the words out fast enough anyway and I vowed from that moment to work on my speech, to try to stammer less. Though my heart was broken she left me sure of one thing: I liked girls and even if I shouldn’t I didn’t care, girls do it for me so I guess that makes me gay.

Dale left and life got grey again. Not only did I miss mom more every day, I missed Dale too. I missed having someone to talk to who listened to me. I hadn’t practiced magic since mom got taken to hospital; it felt so wrong to do it alone, without my guide, my anchor. I realised though that I missed it, I missed the confidence it gave me, the feeling of one-ness.

It was my eighteenth birthday and my final year of high school. I had gotten the usual gifts, a prayerbook from my cousin, nothing from my brother and some ‘suitable clothing’ from dad. I went to bed that night feeling so alone, like I was adrift in an endless grey sea, the clouds threatening but never bursting. I wept into my pillow, longing for my mom and wondering when it would all just end. I couldn’t sleep and I longed to be unconscious, and I remembered the magic book I kept hidden underneath my mattress. I took it out and opened it and saw a letter addressed to me. It was mom’s writing. With shaking hands I opened it and read:

Tara,

You are my daughter and I love you more than anything. I know how sick I am and I’m so tired of fighting. I know I have to leave the physical world but Tara, know that I will always be with you darling, always. I am so proud of you, you know what you want from life and that makes you braver than I could ever be. Never hide Tara, never hide who you are. Your father doesn’t understand this about you but learn to forgive him, he is weak and scared but he loves you in his way. I know though that you will never be able to do this unless you leave his house.

I want you to do what I never could; I want you to get away from here, from your father before he wears you down like he wore me down. I have been saving for you to do this since you were born, I sensed your power while you were still inside me, you gave me strength, you always gave me strength. Enclosed in this letter is a key to a safety deposit box where your money is, use it to get out of here, to live your life the way you choose to. Love will find you Tara; I have never in my life known anyone to be so deserving of love as you. Walk in the sun my child but never fear the darkness.

I will always be with you, never forget this truth, and it hurts me more than I can bear to know that I will have to see from far away the beautiful woman I know you’ll become.

Once again I love you,

Mom x


A silent sob wracked my body and I emitted a guttural, primal sound. My mommy was gone. I cried for hours that night, purging myself of the emotions I’d kept inside for so long. I grieved my mom and the insurmountable loss I felt at her passing. I grieved all the times we sat up late and talked or did spells. I grieved Dale and the loss of the closeness I’d had with her. I cried until I reached exhaustion and drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. When I woke the next morning I felt resolute. I would do what my mom wanted for me. I would apply to college and leave my fathers house.

So this is how I came to live in Sunnydale. Mom wanted me to walk in the sun and so I thought what better place to go than a place with ‘sunny’ in its name? I studied really hard to catch up on all that I had missed during my Brief Rebellious Phase and got the grades I needed to get into college. I would major in English. I couldn’t wait to lose myself in literature and in the new experiences I would have. I learned a lot of magic too, how to float small stuff and how to make a tiny little light that shone in the darkness. I practiced my speech too; I taught myself how to reign in my stammer in my regular speech. It was still there and probably always would be but I learned how not to become p-p-p-paralysed by my n-n-n-nerves. I would imagine that I was meditating using the candle and quartz desires spell, I would calm myself and pretty soon I c-could almost get out a whole sentence without st-stammering. I was ready.

I planned to leave without a word. I barely spoke to my family anyway. Just the obligatory ‘yes sir’ when dad asked me a question or gave me an instruction. It was clear that he expected me to step into mom’s shoes and ‘look after him’ like she did. I got everything ready and sent a lot of my stuff to the campus at UC Sunnydale. All I would have to carry were some clothes. Mom had left me enough money to pay my tuition and have a little left over for spending so I wouldn’t need my father for anything. I couldn’t wait to get away. My excitement made me careless though and I left my college acceptance letter from out in my room on the day I planned to leave. I wanted to make sure that it was real.

I had gone out to get toiletries. As I was leaving without dad knowing I needed all my stuff to be where it should be. But when I got home that day dad was waiting for me. “Do you think I wouldn’t find out Tara?”
“F-find out what, sir?” I replied, noticing the letter he held in his hand.
“I will never allow you to leave, Tara. I can’t allow you to leave”.
“I w-w-wasn’t…”
“Don’t interrupt me. This isn’t a two-way conversation. You will listen to me. I know all about you and your mother. About your ‘secret’. I know she was teaching you her dark ways. You will never leave this house because of what you are, Tara”. I had heard enough, “D-Dad please, y-you don’t understand…”
“I said don’t interrupt me. Your mother had special powers because of what she was. She begged me to keep this from you but I can’t. You are part demon, Tara, that’s why I’ve had to be so hard on you. When you turn twenty-one this part will come to the surface, you will be disfigured. You are not fully human and the world you live in now will reject you. Your family are the only people that will still be able to look at you”. I turned and ran upstairs, “You can’t run away from this, you hear me?”

I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t believe it. Had my mom lied to me? Was all that she said untrue? Was it possible that I could do magic because I was part demon? I knew that I couldn’t trust my father; he had beaten that out of me years before. But there was a small part of me that believed him; maybe this was why he hated me so much. My desire to get out was stronger than ever though. I hurredly shoved my remaining things into my bag, I checked I had my bus ticket, wallet and my magic book – mom’s letter took up permanent residence there, and I walked out of my room. My father was standing at the bottom of the stairs between me and the front door. He was furious and spoke through gritted teeth “You are not leaving this house”. There was no point in talking to him, I had tried so many times over the years to communicate with him and I always ended up feeling so powerless. I lifted my left hand and, focusing all the energy I had, said, “Pulsus!” Dad was thrown against the wall and I took the chance to get past him, through the door and out. I ran, tears streaming down my face. “I will find you, you hear me?” I heard him call after me. I kept running…

An hour later I was sat on the bus, pulling out of the station and looking back on my hometown for the last time. I felt a pull inside me, as though my body couldn’t get to Sunnydale fast enough. I was being pulled towards her, towards she, the one who would make me complete, who loved me as I loved her and who filled me with wonder. I was going home for the first time.

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Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. - Jeanette Winterson, Gut Symmetries


Last edited by Millerchip77 on Fri Nov 28, 2008 4:41 am, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Unrelated: A Tara-centric story
PostPosted: Tue Nov 25, 2008 6:36 am 
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4. Extra Flamey

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Great backstory for Tara. Can't wait to see what you have in store. :pinky


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 Post subject: Re: Unrelated: A Tara-centric story
PostPosted: Tue Nov 25, 2008 9:56 am 
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19. Yummy Face
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Good beginning... update-y goodness soon?

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 Post subject: Re: Unrelated: A Tara-centric story
PostPosted: Tue Nov 25, 2008 5:57 pm 
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:love
*otherwise out of words*

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 Post subject: Re: Unrelated: A Tara-centric story
PostPosted: Wed Nov 26, 2008 5:04 am 
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Very awesome start... wow :)

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 Post subject: Repost: Unrelated Chapter 2: Willow
PostPosted: Fri Nov 28, 2008 5:09 am 
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Location: Melbourne, Australia
Title Unrelated Chapter 2: Willow
Author name Millerchip77
Rating NC-17 - it all gets a bit racy :wtkiss
Disclaimer I don't own Willow or Tara or anyone; they belong to ME etc
Feedback Absolutely - the more the merrier. I love feedback, it keeps me writing and stops me working.
Summary Tara has moved to Sunnydale and talks about meeting, and falling in love with, Willow.
Notes I'm reposting this 'cause a few of you felt that the first version was rushed - so I slowed things down. Hope you like it. Am sooo busy at the moment not been able to get much writing (for fun) done...

Unrelated Part 2: Willow

I noticed her hair first. Autumn coloured it caught the light and held onto it for dear life. She shone. She shone in that awful Wicca group meeting, standing her ground and speaking with a quirky kind of authority that’s uniquely hers. Though the first time I saw her, at the meeting, I could barley look at her. She was too beautiful, and I was too shy. College wasn’t what I thought it would be. I was having trouble making friends, and the long discussions after class I’d hoped for didn’t take place as people rushed off to meet friends. I missed mom. I was lonely. So when I saw the posted advertising the Wicca group, I was excited. Maybe there would be another witch there and I might have people, friends to practice magic with. But when I got there it was all ‘womyn power shrines’, blessings and bake sales, and no sign of spells. Until Willow. I had wanted to talk to her after the meeting, to ask if maybe she’d like to meet up sometimes, I could show her my magic books. But she rushed out and I missed my chance.

And then there was silence. For so long I’d lived in silence. At high school I had barely spoken, in fact for most of my life I had barely spoken. My stammer drove my dad crazy so the less I said to him the better. I had only really talked with mom. And Dale. But this enforced silence was deafening, menacing. Something dark had made this happen, I could feel it. I felt it the night the boy died at Stevenson Hall and I felt it the following night. And that’s why I scoured the directory for Willow’s room number. I thought maybe we could try a locator spell, do something to help.

And then they were after me, their empty, grinning faces seeming to mock me. I ran and ran, I was so scared. And then she found me, or I found her, or we found each other. We were cornered, and terrified, but when I saw her make the soda machine shake I knew, I was calmed. And when our hands met, I fell. I felt her power. It surged through her hand, into me; it hit me with such a force. I felt it in my heart, the pit of my stomach, in my head. I felt it in my groin, it pulsated inside me. Mom had told me how hard it was to find synchronicity, someone with whom you could merge, magically speaking. But that night we made the soda machine fly and though I wasn’t touching it I felt my hand against its cold metal side and shove. We looked at each other afterwards, still unable to speak. She stroked my hand with her thumb; I felt the arousal gathering between my legs like a storm cloud, realising that, for me at least, the connection was about more than magic.

She broke into a smile, a grin; it was the happiest sight I had seen in a long time. “Wow…I mean wow! Oh…oh!…I…can you speak? It’s Tara, right?”
“I-I…yes…I-I can talk”. She let go of my hand, I felt the loss of the connection everywhere in my body. She got to her feet, “Wow…I mean how did we..?”
“Y-You’re powerful, we m-managed to connect, t-to join our powers”.
“No, Tara, you’re powerful….That was amazing, I mean I’ve never done much more than floating of pencils, well…I mean there was the one time I reversed the curse on Angel, but I mean wow! I didn’t do more then than read the spell and stuff, which was totally nifty but what we just did, wow…and wow!...Oh! Buffy! I gotta go…I mean I need to…Buffy’s my…we have to do this again soon; I mean not the nearly-getting-our-hearts-ripped-out part but the joiny-hands soda machine flying part. I-I really have to go though …nowish. I’ll call you…” I remained sitting on the floor. I was being completely won over by this quirky, red-haired, babbling witch (but who was Angel? And what curse? I would come to learn to just accept that when Willow got excited there was, in her words, ‘blurtage’). She hurried over to the door, and then remembered the soda machine. “Oh…do you think we can..?”

I got to my feet, walked over to where she was and took her hand. We grinned at one another, then faced the machine. I felt her again, less powerful this time but still as vivid. The machine not so much flew as glided away from the door. She turned to me and then and smiled, letting my hand fall away from hers as she did, “Thanks”. She continued, “I’ll call you. Tomorrow. Morning. I mean, that is, if you…”
“I-I’d like that. To s-see you again. I mean to do m-magic”.
“Good. Oh wait; I don’t have your number. Or a pen or any other writing-type device. And I don’t want to forget it if you tell me. Not that I’m forgetful, I mean hello? Never forgotten a birthday or Christmas and I’m Jewish so that would be my excuse if I ever needed one which I don’t ‘cause I never forget stuff it’s just that I’m really psyched about what just happened and I have to find Buffy so it might be some time before I can get to a pen or another writing-type device and by then I might have forgotten though I am good with numbers...What’s your surname? I’ll find you in the book.” I snapped out of trying to follow Willow’s most adorable stream of consciousness, and replied, “Maclay”. My father’s name stuck in my throat. She walked out of the room but I could still feel her as she walked along the corridor and through the door.

My nineteenth year was shaping up to be the happiest of my life. I was at college, I was studying English lit and I was doing well. And the most wonderful and surprising thing is that I was in love. When I was a child I had the love of my mother but my father’s emotional distance made me crave his love. He hurt me, he always hurt me. And then when mom died the absence of love tore at me. I mean I had a brief thing with Dale. She said she loved me but I never really felt it. I couldn’t, see, I was numbed by the loss of my mother.

Mom once told me that I deserved love, that it would find me; I thought I would be waiting a long time. But we found each other, Willow and I, she and me. She completes me, binds me to the world and keeps me safe from it. And love is a wonderful, overwhelming, frightening, beautiful thing.

Our courtship was slow. I’ve always been shy see, and I was so very attracted to her. I would st-st-start st-st-stammering the moment I s-saw her. I also thought she was straight so I spent a lot of time trying (unsuccessfully) to hide my attraction to her. I didn’t know then that love can sometimes see beyond the physical form, that she had felt, as I did, the magical connection each time we touched during a spell. And magical it was and it was there from the beginning of us, from the soda machine.

She brought us a rose to float. I was so pleased when she’d called that day and I had spent all afternoon tidying me and my room, I wanted to make a good impression, to look nice for her. See since the soda machine I had thought of little else but her, of the way our hands had met, of the power I had felt radiating from her when we touched, of her Autumn coloured hair, of her smile, her quirky way of talking. The spell she wanted to try involved floating something light and she brought a rose.

It’s hard to explain what happens. It starts before we touch, a warmth that both flows from me and into me through my fingertips. Then there’s like a spark, an intensity when our hands meet, like my hand is and is not my own, her own. And then the warmth starts to spread, I feel it everywhere but it is most intense in my groin, I feel her there, inside me. She comforts me, makes me safe, I never felt safe before. And then I open my eyes and the rose is floating, and she’s smiling, her face is flushed and her eyes have a hazy look in them and I’ve fallen for her but I shouldn’t, she had a boyfriend, he broke her heart and it wasn’t my place to mend it.

But I did, somehow I did. And the magic between us grew and she would come to me, stay with me and I would lie next to her in bed and try to think of something, anything to stop my body aching for her. And then she would leave and I’d go to class or study in my room. But everything seemed more colourful when I was with her; she made me feel light, childish. I could be silly with her and we’d laugh, I could be honest with her and she’d listen. She told me about her vivid, vibrant world, about the several apocalypses she’d helped to prevent, “So that’s three apocalypses and counting. What is the plural of apocalypse? Apocali, apocalsims, alottaclypses? Who knows, do you know? I mean I guess technically there’s only supposed to be one and then poof! World over, horsemen riding in…b-but then plans get foiled and the horses are put back into their stables but, y’know, there’s always some big bad planning Armageddon-type fun. But then would it count as the same one even though the first one didn’t happen?...A-And if a tree falls in the forest and there’s no-one there to hear it does it still make a sound?”

I’d never met anyone like Willow. But though I was so pleased that she was in my life I was also really lonely. I missed mom every day. And though Willow told me a lot about her life she didn’t show it to me. She kept me and her friends separate. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt a little. I thought she might be embarrassed to take me to meet them, that my stammer would make them feel awkward. Though she had never seemed to notice it maybe she was just being polite. I thought maybe that she didn’t take me to meet them because of the whole gay thing, that she didn’t want them getting the wrong idea, I mean sure; we touched but only in order to do magic. I was wrong about all of it though.

She told me in the sweetest way, the most Willow-y type way. There was big trouble, someone called Faith had broken out of her coma and was coming after Buffy and her friends. Willow hid out with me ‘cause Faith would, in Willow’s words, “Tear my face off as soon as look at me and I am quite fond of my face the way it is thank you very much”. So my room became her hideout. I was glad to have her with me, glad to help even though her constant pacing was wearing a hole in my rug. She had been popping pepto-bismol caplets all morning, complaining that Faith made her ‘stomach all acidy’. I tried to reassure her that it would all be okay but I guess some of my own insecurities bubbled to the surface. I said to her, “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…” She whispered to me, “Hey”, and I felt her hand on my knee. Looking at her was staring to hurt. I said, “I mean …Th…that’s totally cool…I mean…it…its good. It’s…its better.”

She looked at me then, her eyes took on a darker shade than I had ever seen them, I felt her gaze as she spoke, “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. 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?” Her words made her suddenly shy, like she’d revealed too much and she snapped back into Scooby mode sating, “I should check in with Giles, get a situation update.”

I couldn’t take anymore, I had been next to her but far away for too long, I needed to tell her how I felt, that I wanted her, that she had made my life better than it had ever been in the short time that we’d known each other, that I wanted to be a permanent fixture in her life. Of course I didn’t say all of that but I did tell her in my own way. She stood up; I had my back to her as I remained sitting on the bed and said to her, “I am y’know”.
“What?” I turned my head to face her and breathed out with all my might, with all my unspoken love for her, “Yours”. She grinned then, and I saw my desire reflected back at me. She moved towards me, slowly sitting down next to me and taking my hands in hers. I felt the sum total of all the spells we’d done so far crackling through our hands, binding us together. She let go with one hand and brought it up to my face, cupping my cheek. I felt her thumb stroke me there, like it had done after the soda machine, when our hands had remained joined long after the spell was done. I realised then that she must have always felt the connection too, that she had been with me all along. I heard myself gently moan, giving voice to my longing. She leant in then, looking at me with an intensity I’d never seen in another person. Our lips met and the heat I felt through her mouth almost burned me. She made love to me with that kiss, told me all I needed to know; that she was mine as I was hers.

I revealed more of myself to Willow more than I had to anyone in my life, I felt attuned to her, that I knew what she wanted, what she needed. That’s how I could tell that Buffy wasn’t Buffy when Faith had switched their bodies, see I knew that ‘Buffy’ wasn’t relating to Willow, that not only Buffy’s energy but the energy between Willow and Buffy was grating, that they didn’t fit. And when we decided to do the Passage to the Nether Realms spell so that Willow could find Buffy, I held onto her. I was supposed to keep her safe but actually she kept me safe; it was my fear of losing her that kept her anchored to me and that’s why the spell was so intense for both of us, my desire for her was her anchor. We made love for the fist time that night. With limbs, our hands, our fingers, our mouths we explored each other. I had always wanted to hide my body, it was awkward and ungainly (‘Stand up straight, Tara’; ‘you’re so damn clumsy child!’). But Willow made me feel like a Goddess that night, and every other night (and morning, and afternoon, and in the twenty minutes we have between class). She seemed mesmerised by my body, spending hours on a spot here, a place there. In return she was so open for me, so needful of me.

But I also kept a lot from her. I was so scared of losing her you see. I had just found her and I was terrified that if she knew the truth about me, if she knew where I came from she would leave me. I was also scared that if Oz ever came back that she could go back to him, that her love for him had been spoken and her feelings for me not. Plus I had purposefully messed up the spell we had done to locate demonic energy. I hadn’t believed my dad until I met Willow, my love for her blinded me, terrified me because it made me so happy and though at the time we were only friends, I couldn’t take the risk that he was right, I just couldn’t. So I messed up the spell and she was disappointed and I felt like I’d failed her, that I’d let her down.

And then Oz did come back. I guess by then Willow and I were what you might call an ‘unofficial item’. We spent every spare second together. We couldn’t get enough of each other. My lips actually started to dry up if I wasn’t kissing her and we saw each other naked more than clothed. I had met Buffy and Xander and Anya and Giles and Riley and a harmless blonde vampire called Spike (that was weird) but none of them knew about us. Willow had said, “I will tell them…y’know, about us. That we’re…that I’m, well y’know, I’m…that I’m with you which I guess makes me…makes me kinda…”
“Willow don’t worry sweetie. Y-You’ll tell them about us when you’re ready”.
“I guess. I just feel bad because I’m so happy with you and you just called me sweetie and I think it was about the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard and you’d better kiss me right now or I’ll explode…”

And suddenly he was there, standing in the doorway and I felt my strangerhood hit me like a hammer to the heart. They were rallying, grouping together around Willow to soften the blow of seeing him and I wasn’t there, I wasn’t part of this. I had to get out. I didn’t even hear what he said to her, I just had to get out. And I ran till I was breathless and sat in the park near Giles’ and wept, wept out of humiliation and sorrow. What if she left me?

I walked around campus all afternoon and when I got home I saw my answerphone winking at me. I had five messages. The first: “Tara? Are you there? It’s me…er Willow. I um…I’m sorry about…well about…(sigh) call me back. Please?” The last: “Tara I just came up to your room and you’re still not back, please call me. I’m seeing Oz tonight but you can call me. Please let me know you’re okay. I…I don’t know what’s going on. Um…bye”. It was dark by the time I went to her room and before I knocked I knew there’d be no answer; there wasn’t. And when I went there in the morning he was still there and I thought my heart would break.

But she came to me, she tried to explain but I couldn’t listen. I heard her speak but I couldn’t process her words. They had talked, that’s all but they had a lot to talk about. I told her I would always be her friend; I meant it, I couldn’t not have her in my life. But how would it be to see her with him? What would my lips do if they couldn’t kiss her? She said, “I don't know, I just …Life was starting to get so good again, an’ you’re a big part of that. And here comes the thing I wanted most of all and…I don't know what to do, I-I wanna know…but I don't”. She cried then and my heart broke all over again. I said all I could, “Do w-what m-makes you h-hap-happy”. She fell into my arms and we held on to each other for dear life. It felt like goodbye. I told her, “W-Willow, shh sweetie, p-please d-don’t cry”
“I-I’m sorry Tara…Oh God I’m so sorry”,
“You have n-nothing to be s-sorry for”,
“I do. I do…I…you…I can’t breathe…I’m so sorry”. I pulled away from her so that I could wipe her tears but when I looked at her face, her eyes aqua-marine with tears, I wanted her. I kissed her with an urgency I’d never felt before. It felt like goodbye.

Our coupling was quick, desperate. She bit my lips; I dragged off her top and pushed up her skirt. She pulled me down on top of her, took my hand and pressed my fingers into her. Wordlessly I pumped my hand in and out of her, wanting her to come quickly, to feel my need for her.

Afterwards we dressed quickly, feeling shy of each other in a way that we never had before. She was at the door and I noticed she had left her sweater; she told me to keep it but she couldn’t look at me. It felt like goodbye.

And then he found me, Oz. He could smell her on me, could sense what we had just done. He asked me if she loved me and I told him that I couldn’t talk about it and the truth is that I couldn’t, I didn’t know if she loved me or not. I thought he would kill me, I was so scared and I thought that I would die never knowing for sure that she loved me.

But love me she did and told me so after Oz left for good. She brought me a candle that was ‘extra-flamey’ and told me that she loved me. I’d never wanted anyone so much in my life. She completes me. When she’s away from me I feel abandoned, lost, adrift. And then she’ll come back to me and I’m whole again. She handed her candle to me and told me, “I feel horrible about everything I put you through, a-and I'm gonna make it up to you, starting right now”. I couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading across my face as I asked her, to be sure, “Right now?” She nodded her response and I blew out the candle and set it down.

She pulled me into her arms and said, “I love you, Tara; I love you, only you and always you”. I felt her words in every part of me, from the tips of my toes to the hairs on my head. All I could do was to speak my love for her, “Oh I love you too my Willow, f-from the moment our h-hands met that night I knew that I loved you”. She pulled me closer to her, I wanted to melt into her, to fill her and be filled by her. I was still wearing her sweater. “Goddess Tara, it was always you. I-I mean I loved Oz and everything but he’s not…” She pulled back and looked into my eyes. All that she was and all that she saw in me shone through those eyes, “He’s not you”. I leant towards her and cupped her face in my hands. I heard her breathing deepen and barely audibly, she moaned. I felt my desire for her course through my body, gathering between my legs. Our lips met and still standing, we explored each other, mouth upon mouth. I loved the taste of her, the feel of her tongue against mine, the promises she made to me with it. Our kisses increased in their urgency. I needed her, wanted her. I ached for her; my desire for her was almost unbearable. I need to show my love for her in this way, the greatest act of intimacy between two people. It wouldn’t be urgent like the afternoon had been but slow, patient. I wanted to unfold her.

I lifted up her shirt, kissing every inch of the flesh it exposed on its journey over her body and over her head. I heard her breath quicken. I guided her down to the bed and lay above her, looking at her in the moonlight. “Tara…please…I can’t…you’re…too, too sexy…” I kissed her lips, lifting her bra with my hands to expose her breasts. She moaned as I sucked a nipple into my mouth, flicking my tongue over it as I did. The contours of her body are the most thrilling, at the same time so soft, so hard, so wet. I reached around her back and undid her skirt; she lifted her hips so that I could drag it down over her legs. I left her underpants until last, torturing myself before looking upon her most private part, the part that invites me in and welcomes me. Slowly I eased her underpants down. I moaned as I saw her damp copper curls. Quickly I removed my own clothes; I couldn’t wait to feel her skin against mine.

She loves me and I love her, this was my only coherent thought that night. I lay over her again, looking down upon her, feeling her velvet skin against mine at last. I pushed one of my legs between hers and felt her wetness on my thigh, moaning out “Oh goddess Willow, I w-want you so much. Please, t-tell me what you want baby, t-tell me what you want”.
“Oh Tara I…you…I want you inside me, I need to feel you inside me”, she whispered. I felt her words jolt through my body, sending a spasm of pleasure straight to my groin. I pushed two of my fingers into her; she was so wet, like touching liquid silk. Slowly, the way I knew she liked, I eased myself in and out and out and inside of her. Her moans grew louder. “Oh baby that’s…ungh…so good…so fucking good…oh my god I…can’t believe…that I…just…said fucking out…loud…oh…” I grinned at her, kissing her mouth then quickening my movements in and out and out an inside of her. I looked down at her in the moonlight. Her body glistened with sweat and shone with desire and she whispered to me, “Harder. Please baby, harder”.

I knew what she wanted; I always do as she knows what I want. We had held back before, the unspoken love between us acting as a barrier. That gone she could opene herself up to me. I pushed three and then four of my fingers into her, probing her until I found her secret spot, the place I and I alone could go. I pumped harder, wanting her to feel me, wanting to fill her. Her hips moved to my rhythm, her moans became wordless, and I knew she was close. I felt my own wetness flow out of me, coating my thighs. Only she can make me feel this way. She reached underneath me and began stroking me; the sweet pressure she used was perfect, I was close the minute she touched me, only she can make me feel this way. I thrusted into her urgently, our movements perfectly synchronised. It felt so right, like I was where I belong, home at last. I felt her muscles tighten around my hand, her moans silenced and for a moment her hand on me stilled, her body stiffened, the movement lifting her off the bed. I looked into her eyes and saw her surrender to me, her love for me, the beautiful heart of her. Her eyes closed and she fell backwards with a last cry and just as she did I felt my own wave begin. I felt it in my hair, in my toenails, my face, my knees, my stomach and my thighs. It met in the middle and sent me over the edge, “Willow”, was all I could say, it came out like a sob. I fell down to the side of her and took her in my arms. We both cried then, the emotion we’d pent up over the last weeks and days at last spilling out. She pulled away from me, wiped the tears from my face, and whispered, “I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you”. I smiled at her and said, “I love you, Will. And you w-were right”,
“About what baby?”
“That was so f-fucking good”. We looked at each other and laughed, tears still glistening on our faces in the silvery half-light.

I had come so far. I had lost my mother, left my father’s house and come home, home to where she is. Mom once told me that I deserved love and Willow made me believe it. She had taken me out of the shade and made me walk with her in the sun; she showed me darkness but taught me not to fear it. She let me in to her world, her kooky, crazy world populated with the most unlikely characters, a tiny blonde girl with the strength of a bear and a demon-fighting soldier boyfriend, a boy with an ex-demon for a girlfriend, an unemployed English librarian and, perhaps the strangest of them all, another Englishman, a dead one in fact, an undead neutered vampire. I was home at last.

I thought that I had left my old life behind. That I was a new person, that I was brave. Dad’s words about my demon lineage still played on my mind though, I had spoiled a spell with Willow because I was scared, scared that he was telling the truth and that his disgust towards me was justified, that I was worthless, dirty and wrong. I was too ashamed to tell Willow this fear. She loved who she thought I was, who I thought I could be. All that was about to change.

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Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. - Jeanette Winterson, Gut Symmetries


Last edited by Millerchip77 on Thu Jan 08, 2009 10:27 am, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Unrelated: A Tara-centric story
PostPosted: Fri Nov 28, 2008 4:24 pm 
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This side is nice too :)

friendly,

Julia.

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 Post subject: Re: Unrelated: A Tara-centric story
PostPosted: Sat Nov 29, 2008 5:31 am 
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Yay for great update-y goodness...

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 Post subject: Re: Unrelated: A Tara-centric story
PostPosted: Sat Nov 29, 2008 8:46 am 
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Great writing.


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 Post subject: Re: Unrelated: A Tara-centric story
PostPosted: Sat Nov 29, 2008 9:58 am 
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Hey. Finally catching up on some reading, and thought I'd get to this one first. Sorry I missed it on the Beta board.

I always enjoy Season 4 between-the-scenes stories that show the budding relationship between the girls. If I had any complaint, it would be that it was covered too quickly; I would have liked to see the post-Gentlemen days broken out into more scenes, instead of in summary.

Writing first-person for Tara has got to be difficult. I have enough trouble with third-person where she's concerned. I think you do an admirable job of sticking to a character whose inner monologue isn't as readily apparent on the show; with most of the main characters, you get enough of a sense of them from their outward speech and actions. With Tara, it's more subtle.

My attempts at constructive feedback:

* Posting with text formatting is tricky on this board, because the bold and italics buttons are less than reliable. I type them in manually, after pasting my text in, but it's sort of a pain. Paragraph spacing has similar problems (and is more distracting in stories like yours with lengthy paragraphs). A quick after-posting proofread or a search for '[' and ']' should suffice.

* Watch punctuation at the end of quotes. You have a tendency to misplace it. Oh, and by the way, please don't take these points as nit-picking. I've really enjoyed the content of the story, so the only real constructive critique I can offer is for grammar. The story is terrific, thus far. ^_^b

* In fact, I like it so much, I wish you'd written more scenes in. I'd have liked to see Tara's internal take on the purposefully botched demon-locating spell, as it was taking place. I'd have liked to see her dealing with Oz's visit, coming out to Willow, and other momentous occasions that were summed up. It's early in the chapters, though, so it could be that you're skimming the early stuff to get to something specific. I'm just a sucker for the early stuff. ^_~

Quote:
She later told me that she had felt it too, in a way that only she could


I really liked Willow's bit here. Makes me wish I were a witch. ;)

I'm looking forward to 'Family.'

~ Jasmydae (Megan)


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 Post subject: Re: Unrelated: A Tara-centric story
PostPosted: Mon Dec 01, 2008 2:37 am 
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I absolutely love how you describe the season 4 events from Tara's POV. It's so intense, in a good way! :) The only comment I might have is that sometimes it seems a bit rushed --- although it serves the story well here, you write it so well taht we just wanna read more details! (like jasmydae said before).

Thanks so much for sharing. Brilliant!

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 Post subject: Re: Unrelated: A Tara-centric story
PostPosted: Mon Dec 01, 2008 7:14 am 
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Thank you, thank you, thank you for comments - really inspiring and helpful - glad you like the way the story is shaping up.

jasmydae - thanks for practical suggestions - I do find formatting a bit of a nightmare so will heed your advice - also about punctuation.

Sadie - you and jasmydae felt it was rushed - I guess it was a bit. I just wrote a story from Willow's POV about how she met Tara etc and so thought y'all might be bored of that. It's called 'The True Story of Me and She' - I don't know how to paste the link to postings though. You should be able to find it in Pens.

So having read over this story again I guess it is rushed. So what do you reckon, should I take chapter 2 off the board and edit or work earlier events into the next chapter?

I'm loving writing though - I never knew I had it in me, well the writing of fiction anyway.

Thanks again :)

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 Post subject: Re: Unrelated: A Tara-centric story
PostPosted: Mon Dec 01, 2008 10:17 am 
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I think it depends on the type of story you want to write. It works like this too, sort of anecdotal, like Tara's sitting there remembering it all or writing in her diary or something. In that case I think she (= you the writer) wouldn't really go into every detail.

So you see, it's just a selfish suggestion... ;) I think you'd do a great job at describing their S4 (5, 6...) scenes in more detail -- your Tara and Willow are absolutely credible and have a new depth to them b/c of the way you describe how they're feeling. Their quotes fit in perfectly with their characters & your descriptive style. It's like as a reader, you feel what they're feeling and that makes it such a pleasure to read. I think we (well, I, at least) would be missing out on a great behind-the-scenes story! :D but you know, in the end, you should write what you want to write & what feels right for you :)

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 Post subject: Re: Unrelated: A Tara-centric story
PostPosted: Mon Dec 01, 2008 10:58 am 
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The "Willow side" is still front page.

I like that Willow knows before Tara says anything and is already okay abotu where it's going before Tara speaks. I'd always imagien she would.

Seems widely felt that Willow and tar ahad just had sex beofre Tara ran into Oz in the hall. I always intepreted "all over you" diffetrently but this has its logic.

And I think you meant "tentatively" instead of "Tenaciously" at one point, not sure tho.

Should I assume you're going to take on "Family" next?

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 Post subject: Repost: Unrelated: A Tara-centirc story part II
PostPosted: Thu Jan 08, 2009 10:34 am 
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Title Unrelated Chapter 2: Willow
Author name Millerchip77
Rating NC-17 - it all gets a bit racy
Disclaimer I don't own Willow or Tara or anyone; they belong to ME etc
Feedback Absolutely - the more the merrier. I love feedback, it keeps me writing and stops me working.
Summary Tara has moved to Sunnydale and talks about meeting, and falling in love with, Willow.
Notes I'm reposting this 'cause a few of you felt that the first version was rushed - so I slowed things down. Hope you like it. Am sooo busy at the moment not been able to get much writing (for fun) done...

Unrelated Part 2: Willow

I noticed her hair first. Autumn coloured it caught the light and held onto it for dear life. She shone. She shone in that awful Wicca group meeting, standing her ground and speaking with a quirky kind of authority that’s uniquely hers. Though the first time I saw her, at the meeting, I could barley look at her. She was too beautiful, and I was too shy. College wasn’t what I thought it would be. I was having trouble making friends, and the long discussions after class I’d hoped for didn’t take place as people rushed off to meet friends. I missed mom. I was lonely. So when I saw the posted advertising the Wicca group, I was excited. Maybe there would be another witch there and I might have people, friends to practice magic with. But when I got there it was all ‘womyn power shrines’, blessings and bake sales, and no sign of spells. Until Willow. I had wanted to talk to her after the meeting, to ask if maybe she’d like to meet up sometimes, I could show her my magic books. But she rushed out and I missed my chance.

And then there was silence. For so long I’d lived in silence. At high school I had barely spoken, in fact for most of my life I had barely spoken. My stammer drove my dad crazy so the less I said to him the better. I had only really talked with mom. And Dale. But this enforced silence was deafening, menacing. Something dark had made this happen, I could feel it. I felt it the night the boy died at Stevenson Hall and I felt it the following night. And that’s why I scoured the directory for Willow’s room number. I thought maybe we could try a locator spell, do something to help.

And then they were after me, their empty, grinning faces seeming to mock me. I ran and ran, I was so scared. And then she found me, or I found her, or we found each other. We were cornered, and terrified, but when I saw her make the soda machine shake I knew, I was calmed. And when our hands met, I fell. I felt her power. It surged through her hand, into me; it hit me with such a force. I felt it in my heart, the pit of my stomach, in my head. I felt it in my groin, it pulsated inside me. Mom had told me how hard it was to find synchronicity, someone with whom you could merge, magically speaking. But that night we made the soda machine fly and though I wasn’t touching it I felt my hand against its cold metal side and shove. We looked at each other afterwards, still unable to speak. She stroked my hand with her thumb; I felt the arousal gathering between my legs like a storm cloud, realising that, for me at least, the connection was about more than magic.

She broke into a smile, a grin; it was the happiest sight I had seen in a long time. “Wow…I mean wow! Oh…oh!…I…can you speak? It’s Tara, right?”
“I-I…yes…I-I can talk”. She let go of my hand, I felt the loss of the connection everywhere in my body. She got to her feet, “Wow…I mean how did we..?”
“Y-You’re powerful, we m-managed to connect, t-to join our powers”.
“No, Tara, you’re powerful….That was amazing, I mean I’ve never done much more than floating of pencils, well…I mean there was the one time I reversed the curse on Angel, but I mean wow! I didn’t do more then than read the spell and stuff, which was totally nifty but what we just did, wow…and wow!...Oh! Buffy! I gotta go…I mean I need to…Buffy’s my…we have to do this again soon; I mean not the nearly-getting-our-hearts-ripped-out part but the joiny-hands soda machine flying part. I-I really have to go though …nowish. I’ll call you…” I remained sitting on the floor. I was being completely won over by this quirky, red-haired, babbling witch (but who was Angel? And what curse? I would come to learn to just accept that when Willow got excited there was, in her words, ‘blurtage’). She hurried over to the door, and then remembered the soda machine. “Oh…do you think we can..?”

I got to my feet, walked over to where she was and took her hand. We grinned at one another, then faced the machine. I felt her again, less powerful this time but still as vivid. The machine not so much flew as glided away from the door. She turned to me and then and smiled, letting my hand fall away from hers as she did, “Thanks”. She continued, “I’ll call you. Tomorrow. Morning. I mean, that is, if you…”
“I-I’d like that. To s-see you again. I mean to do m-magic”.
“Good. Oh wait; I don’t have your number. Or a pen or any other writing-type device. And I don’t want to forget it if you tell me. Not that I’m forgetful, I mean hello? Never forgotten a birthday or Christmas and I’m Jewish so that would be my excuse if I ever needed one which I don’t ‘cause I never forget stuff it’s just that I’m really psyched about what just happened and I have to find Buffy so it might be some time before I can get to a pen or another writing-type device and by then I might have forgotten though I am good with numbers...What’s your surname? I’ll find you in the book.” I snapped out of trying to follow Willow’s most adorable stream of consciousness, and replied, “Maclay”. My father’s name stuck in my throat. She walked out of the room but I could still feel her as she walked along the corridor and through the door.

My nineteenth year was shaping up to be the happiest of my life. I was at college, I was studying English lit and I was doing well. And the most wonderful and surprising thing is that I was in love. When I was a child I had the love of my mother but my father’s emotional distance made me crave his love. He hurt me, he always hurt me. And then when mom died the absence of love tore at me. I mean I had a brief thing with Dale. She said she loved me but I never really felt it. I couldn’t, see, I was numbed by the loss of my mother.

Mom once told me that I deserved love, that it would find me; I thought I would be waiting a long time. But we found each other, Willow and I, she and me. She completes me, binds me to the world and keeps me safe from it. And love is a wonderful, overwhelming, frightening, beautiful thing.

Our courtship was slow. I’ve always been shy see, and I was so very attracted to her. I would st-st-start st-st-stammering the moment I s-saw her. I also thought she was straight so I spent a lot of time trying (unsuccessfully) to hide my attraction to her. I didn’t know then that love can sometimes see beyond the physical form, that she had felt, as I did, the magical connection each time we touched during a spell. And magical it was and it was there from the beginning of us, from the soda machine.

She brought us a rose to float. I was so pleased when she’d called that day and I had spent all afternoon tidying me and my room, I wanted to make a good impression, to look nice for her. See since the soda machine I had thought of little else but her, of the way our hands had met, of the power I had felt radiating from her when we touched, of her Autumn coloured hair, of her smile, her quirky way of talking. The spell she wanted to try involved floating something light and she brought a rose.

It’s hard to explain what happens. It starts before we touch, a warmth that both flows from me and into me through my fingertips. Then there’s like a spark, an intensity when our hands meet, like my hand is and is not my own, her own. And then the warmth starts to spread, I feel it everywhere but it is most intense in my groin, I feel her there, inside me. She comforts me, makes me safe, I never felt safe before. And then I open my eyes and the rose is floating, and she’s smiling, her face is flushed and her eyes have a hazy look in them and I’ve fallen for her but I shouldn’t, she had a boyfriend, he broke her heart and it wasn’t my place to mend it.

But I did, somehow I did. And the magic between us grew and she would come to me, stay with me and I would lie next to her in bed and try to think of something, anything to stop my body aching for her. And then she would leave and I’d go to class or study in my room. But everything seemed more colourful when I was with her; she made me feel light, childish. I could be silly with her and we’d laugh, I could be honest with her and she’d listen. She told me about her vivid, vibrant world, about the several apocalypses she’d helped to prevent, “So that’s three apocalypses and counting. What is the plural of apocalypse? Apocali, apocalsims, alottaclypses? Who knows, do you know? I mean I guess technically there’s only supposed to be one and then poof! World over, horsemen riding in…b-but then plans get foiled and the horses are put back into their stables but, y’know, there’s always some big bad planning Armageddon-type fun. But then would it count as the same one even though the first one didn’t happen?...A-And if a tree falls in the forest and there’s no-one there to hear it does it still make a sound?”

I’d never met anyone like Willow. But though I was so pleased that she was in my life I was also really lonely. I missed mom every day. And though Willow told me a lot about her life she didn’t show it to me. She kept me and her friends separate. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt a little. I thought she might be embarrassed to take me to meet them, that my stammer would make them feel awkward. Though she had never seemed to notice it maybe she was just being polite. I thought maybe that she didn’t take me to meet them because of the whole gay thing, that she didn’t want them getting the wrong idea, I mean sure; we touched but only in order to do magic. I was wrong about all of it though.

She told me in the sweetest way, the most Willow-y type way. There was big trouble, someone called Faith had broken out of her coma and was coming after Buffy and her friends. Willow hid out with me ‘cause Faith would, in Willow’s words, “Tear my face off as soon as look at me and I am quite fond of my face the way it is thank you very much”. So my room became her hideout. I was glad to have her with me, glad to help even though her constant pacing was wearing a hole in my rug. She had been popping pepto-bismol caplets all morning, complaining that Faith made her ‘stomach all acidy’. I tried to reassure her that it would all be okay but I guess some of my own insecurities bubbled to the surface. I said to her, “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…” She whispered to me, “Hey”, and I felt her hand on my knee. Looking at her was staring to hurt. I said, “I mean …Th…that’s totally cool…I mean…it…its good. It’s…its better.”

She looked at me then, her eyes took on a darker shade than I had ever seen them, I felt her gaze as she spoke, “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. 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?” Her words made her suddenly shy, like she’d revealed too much and she snapped back into Scooby mode sating, “I should check in with Giles, get a situation update.”

I couldn’t take anymore, I had been next to her but far away for too long, I needed to tell her how I felt, that I wanted her, that she had made my life better than it had ever been in the short time that we’d known each other, that I wanted to be a permanent fixture in her life. Of course I didn’t say all of that but I did tell her in my own way. She stood up; I had my back to her as I remained sitting on the bed and said to her, “I am y’know”.
“What?” I turned my head to face her and breathed out with all my might, with all my unspoken love for her, “Yours”. She grinned then, and I saw my desire reflected back at me. She moved towards me, slowly sitting down next to me and taking my hands in hers. I felt the sum total of all the spells we’d done so far crackling through our hands, binding us together. She let go with one hand and brought it up to my face, cupping my cheek. I felt her thumb stroke me there, like it had done after the soda machine, when our hands had remained joined long after the spell was done. I realised then that she must have always felt the connection too, that she had been with me all along. I heard myself gently moan, giving voice to my longing. She leant in then, looking at me with an intensity I’d never seen in another person. Our lips met and the heat I felt through her mouth almost burned me. She made love to me with that kiss, told me all I needed to know; that she was mine as I was hers.

I revealed more of myself to Willow more than I had to anyone in my life, I felt attuned to her, that I knew what she wanted, what she needed. That’s how I could tell that Buffy wasn’t Buffy when Faith had switched their bodies, see I knew that ‘Buffy’ wasn’t relating to Willow, that not only Buffy’s energy but the energy between Willow and Buffy was grating, that they didn’t fit. And when we decided to do the Passage to the Nether Realms spell so that Willow could find Buffy, I held onto her. I was supposed to keep her safe but actually she kept me safe; it was my fear of losing her that kept her anchored to me and that’s why the spell was so intense for both of us, my desire for her was her anchor. We made love for the fist time that night. With limbs, our hands, our fingers, our mouths we explored each other. I had always wanted to hide my body, it was awkward and ungainly (‘Stand up straight, Tara’; ‘you’re so damn clumsy child!’). But Willow made me feel like a Goddess that night, and every other night (and morning, and afternoon, and in the twenty minutes we have between class). She seemed mesmerised by my body, spending hours on a spot here, a place there. In return she was so open for me, so needful of me.

But I also kept a lot from her. I was so scared of losing her you see. I had just found her and I was terrified that if she knew the truth about me, if she knew where I came from she would leave me. I was also scared that if Oz ever came back that she could go back to him, that her love for him had been spoken and her feelings for me not. Plus I had purposefully messed up the spell we had done to locate demonic energy. I hadn’t believed my dad until I met Willow, my love for her blinded me, terrified me because it made me so happy and though at the time we were only friends, I couldn’t take the risk that he was right, I just couldn’t. So I messed up the spell and she was disappointed and I felt like I’d failed her, that I’d let her down.

And then Oz did come back. I guess by then Willow and I were what you might call an ‘unofficial item’. We spent every spare second together. We couldn’t get enough of each other. My lips actually started to dry up if I wasn’t kissing her and we saw each other naked more than clothed. I had met Buffy and Xander and Anya and Giles and Riley and a harmless blonde vampire called Spike (that was weird) but none of them knew about us. Willow had said, “I will tell them…y’know, about us. That we’re…that I’m, well y’know, I’m…that I’m with you which I guess makes me…makes me kinda…”
“Willow don’t worry sweetie. Y-You’ll tell them about us when you’re ready”.
“I guess. I just feel bad because I’m so happy with you and you just called me sweetie and I think it was about the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard and you’d better kiss me right now or I’ll explode…”

And suddenly he was there, standing in the doorway and I felt my strangerhood hit me like a hammer to the heart. They were rallying, grouping together around Willow to soften the blow of seeing him and I wasn’t there, I wasn’t part of this. I had to get out. I didn’t even hear what he said to her, I just had to get out. And I ran till I was breathless and sat in the park near Giles’ and wept, wept out of humiliation and sorrow. What if she left me?

I walked around campus all afternoon and when I got home I saw my answerphone winking at me. I had five messages. The first: “Tara? Are you there? It’s me…er Willow. I um…I’m sorry about…well about…(sigh) call me back. Please?” The last: “Tara I just came up to your room and you’re still not back, please call me. I’m seeing Oz tonight but you can call me. Please let me know you’re okay. I…I don’t know what’s going on. Um…bye”. It was dark by the time I went to her room and before I knocked I knew there’d be no answer; there wasn’t. And when I went there in the morning he was still there and I thought my heart would break.

But she came to me, she tried to explain but I couldn’t listen. I heard her speak but I couldn’t process her words. They had talked, that’s all but they had a lot to talk about. I told her I would always be her friend; I meant it, I couldn’t not have her in my life. But how would it be to see her with him? What would my lips do if they couldn’t kiss her? She said, “I don't know, I just …Life was starting to get so good again, an’ you’re a big part of that. And here comes the thing I wanted most of all and…I don't know what to do, I-I wanna know…but I don't”. She cried then and my heart broke all over again. I said all I could, “Do w-what m-makes you h-hap-happy”. She fell into my arms and we held on to each other for dear life. It felt like goodbye. I told her, “W-Willow, shh sweetie, p-please d-don’t cry”
“I-I’m sorry Tara…Oh God I’m so sorry”,
“You have n-nothing to be s-sorry for”,
“I do. I do…I…you…I can’t breathe…I’m so sorry”. I pulled away from her so that I could wipe her tears but when I looked at her face, her eyes aqua-marine with tears, I wanted her. I kissed her with an urgency I’d never felt before. It felt like goodbye.

Our coupling was quick, desperate. She bit my lips; I dragged off her top and pushed up her skirt. She pulled me down on top of her, took my hand and pressed my fingers into her. Wordlessly I pumped my hand in and out of her, wanting her to come quickly, to feel my need for her.

Afterwards we dressed quickly, feeling shy of each other in a way that we never had before. She was at the door and I noticed she had left her sweater; she told me to keep it but she couldn’t look at me. It felt like goodbye.

And then he found me, Oz. He could smell her on me, could sense what we had just done. He asked me if she loved me and I told him that I couldn’t talk about it and the truth is that I couldn’t, I didn’t know if she loved me or not. I thought he would kill me, I was so scared and I thought that I would die never knowing for sure that she loved me.

But love me she did and told me so after Oz left for good. She brought me a candle that was ‘extra-flamey’ and told me that she loved me. I’d never wanted anyone so much in my life. She completes me. When she’s away from me I feel abandoned, lost, adrift. And then she’ll come back to me and I’m whole again. She handed her candle to me and told me, “I feel horrible about everything I put you through, a-and I'm gonna make it up to you, starting right now”. I couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading across my face as I asked her, to be sure, “Right now?” She nodded her response and I blew out the candle and set it down.

She pulled me into her arms and said, “I love you, Tara; I love you, only you and always you”. I felt her words in every part of me, from the tips of my toes to the hairs on my head. All I could do was to speak my love for her, “Oh I love you too my Willow, f-from the moment our h-hands met that night I knew that I loved you”. She pulled me closer to her, I wanted to melt into her, to fill her and be filled by her. I was still wearing her sweater. “Goddess Tara, it was always you. I-I mean I loved Oz and everything but he’s not…” She pulled back and looked into my eyes. All that she was and all that she saw in me shone through those eyes, “He’s not you”. I leant towards her and cupped her face in my hands. I heard her breathing deepen and barely audibly, she moaned. I felt my desire for her course through my body, gathering between my legs. Our lips met and still standing, we explored each other, mouth upon mouth. I loved the taste of her, the feel of her tongue against mine, the promises she made to me with it. Our kisses increased in their urgency. I needed her, wanted her. I ached for her; my desire for her was almost unbearable. I need to show my love for her in this way, the greatest act of intimacy between two people. It wouldn’t be urgent like the afternoon had been but slow, patient. I wanted to unfold her.

I lifted up her shirt, kissing every inch of the flesh it exposed on its journey over her body and over her head. I heard her breath quicken. I guided her down to the bed and lay above her, looking at her in the moonlight. “Tara…please…I can’t…you’re…too, too sexy…” I kissed her lips, lifting her bra with my hands to expose her breasts. She moaned as I sucked a nipple into my mouth, flicking my tongue over it as I did. The contours of her body are the most thrilling, at the same time so soft, so hard, so wet. I reached around her back and undid her skirt; she lifted her hips so that I could drag it down over her legs. I left her underpants until last, torturing myself before looking upon her most private part, the part that invites me in and welcomes me. Slowly I eased her underpants down. I moaned as I saw her damp copper curls. Quickly I removed my own clothes; I couldn’t wait to feel her skin against mine.

She loves me and I love her, this was my only coherent thought that night. I lay over her again, looking down upon her, feeling her velvet skin against mine at last. I pushed one of my legs between hers and felt her wetness on my thigh, moaning out “Oh goddess Willow, I w-want you so much. Please, t-tell me what you want baby, t-tell me what you want”.
“Oh Tara I…you…I want you inside me, I need to feel you inside me”, she whispered. I felt her words jolt through my body, sending a spasm of pleasure straight to my groin. I pushed two of my fingers into her; she was so wet, like touching liquid silk. Slowly, the way I knew she liked, I eased myself in and out and out and inside of her. Her moans grew louder. “Oh baby that’s…ungh…so good…so fucking good…oh my god I…can’t believe…that I…just…said fucking out…loud…oh…” I grinned at her, kissing her mouth then quickening my movements in and out and out an inside of her. I looked down at her in the moonlight. Her body glistened with sweat and shone with desire and she whispered to me, “Harder. Please baby, harder”.

I knew what she wanted; I always do as she knows what I want. We had held back before, the unspoken love between us acting as a barrier. That gone she could opene herself up to me. I pushed three and then four of my fingers into her, probing her until I found her secret spot, the place I and I alone could go. I pumped harder, wanting her to feel me, wanting to fill her. Her hips moved to my rhythm, her moans became wordless, and I knew she was close. I felt my own wetness flow out of me, coating my thighs. Only she can make me feel this way. She reached underneath me and began stroking me; the sweet pressure she used was perfect, I was close the minute she touched me, only she can make me feel this way. I thrusted into her urgently, our movements perfectly synchronised. It felt so right, like I was where I belong, home at last. I felt her muscles tighten around my hand, her moans silenced and for a moment her hand on me stilled, her body stiffened, the movement lifting her off the bed. I looked into her eyes and saw her surrender to me, her love for me, the beautiful heart of her. Her eyes closed and she fell backwards with a last cry and just as she did I felt my own wave begin. I felt it in my hair, in my toenails, my face, my knees, my stomach and my thighs. It met in the middle and sent me over the edge, “Willow”, was all I could say, it came out like a sob. I fell down to the side of her and took her in my arms. We both cried then, the emotion we’d pent up over the last weeks and days at last spilling out. She pulled away from me, wiped the tears from my face, and whispered, “I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you”. I smiled at her and said, “I love you, Will. And you w-were right”,
“About what baby?”
“That was so f-fucking good”. We looked at each other and laughed, tears still glistening on our faces in the silvery half-light.

I had come so far. I had lost my mother, left my father’s house and come home, home to where she is. Mom once told me that I deserved love and Willow made me believe it. She had taken me out of the shade and made me walk with her in the sun; she showed me darkness but taught me not to fear it. She let me in to her world, her kooky, crazy world populated with the most unlikely characters, a tiny blonde girl with the strength of a bear and a demon-fighting soldier boyfriend, a boy with an ex-demon for a girlfriend, an unemployed English librarian and, perhaps the strangest of them all, another Englishman, a dead one in fact, an undead neutered vampire. I was home at last.

I thought that I had left my old life behind. That I was a new person, that I was brave. Dad’s words about my demon lineage still played on my mind though, I had spoiled a spell with Willow because I was scared, scared that he was telling the truth and that his disgust towards me was justified, that I was worthless, dirty and wrong. I was too ashamed to tell Willow this fear. She loved who she thought I was, who I thought I could be. All that was about to change.

_________________
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. - Jeanette Winterson, Gut Symmetries


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 Post subject: Re: Repost: Unrelated: A Tara-centirc story part II
PostPosted: Fri Jan 09, 2009 6:06 am 
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23. Volumey Text

Joined: Tue Apr 26, 2005 11:39 pm
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Location: UK
Great writing!


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