Fic: What's your tale, nightingale? (AU)

[KiwiAlcyone]

Tempest Duer: I know what you mean, despite all our wishing that it would. Even so, you’re very right and I’m sure that the kind of love Willow and Tara share will be enough to overcome any obstacle in their path. What’s love without angst…well, pretty darn good love actually…but this is an Alcy fic, so there has to be angst.

4WiccanLuv: Protective Willow rocks doesn’t she? I thought that this was how Willow, coming from the kind of background she does in this fic, would react. At first she doesn’t understand how Tara’s dad could be like he is but then she realises that her own parents are not going to win any parenting awards either.

And of course…smoochies will be coming shortly!

russ: I always had in mind that, for all Willow’s upper-class sophistication, Tara is in many ways more grown up than her. The continued contrast between their different classes and the worlds they live in will be more evident as the story moves back to New York.

That news story is fantastic, thanks for sharing it…and yes, it seems to fit this story perfectly. As Willow said in chapter 15, “the world might change some day,” and it has, slowly and certainly not to a large enough extent but it has.

barnabasvamp: You want smoochies as well do ya? Well, you might have to wait another chapter or two but when they do come I promise they will be extra nice smoochies!

pikescoob: It’s corny, but in this case I believe it’s ever so right. I’m glad you found that line sweet, it was the very first line I wrote for that chapter and everything else was sorta leading up to it.



Right, Chapter Seventeen is pretty much done and will be up, as per usual, right after work tonight. My writing has definitely been spurred on by the wonderful kitten feedback I’ve been getting. Thanks everyone for reading!



-Alcy

“It’s just my imagination. Some people have flat feet. Some people have dandruff. I have this appalling imagination…”

The Seven Year Itch.

[Tempest Duer]

I used to be a total angst nut. I couldn't properly enjoy a story unless there was suffering before the happiness. Since then I've learned to enjoy fluff, but I still need quality angst in my fanfic diet. Thanks for providing.

Willow: Hey Buff. One more thing. Buffy: Yeah? Willow: I’m gay. Buffy: Okay, Will. Xander owes me ten bucks.

~Remember to Breathe by Yellow Crayon

[KiwiAlcyone]

Chapter Seventeen – “Goodbye Paris, Hello New York.”



A sudden jarring movement brought Willow back to reality. Her head snapped up and a momentary rush of blood to her head left her confused for a few moments. The first coherent thought that entered her mind was the unhappy realisation that she was no longer in Paris…



The flight from Paris to New York had been an absolute nightmare. The only thing that had kept her sane was the pleasant memory of her last few moments with Tara at the airport. Despite the fact that they would be seeing each other again in mere weeks, Willow was sure she had managed to shed enough tears to make herself look a fright. Their goodbye kiss had been tender and sweet, more of a promise than a goodbye. Mr Giles had chosen that moment to remove his glasses and clean them with far too high a level of concentration for such a menial task.



Then she had left to board the plane, a last quick but intense hug and Tara was no longer within reach. Even as she sat waiting for the plane to take off, the aching started. She missed Tara already and fresh tears fell when she realised that two weeks was an eternity when you were in love.



An hour into the flight, the metaphorical ache became far more real than Willow would have liked. In hindsight she guessed it was the chicken from the previous night’s dinner…but then the details weren’t all that important. What was important, however, was that she spent almost the entire remainder of the flight either curled up in her seat in pain, rushing down the aisle to the bathroom or actually in the bathroom retching as the line of people waiting grew longer and more impatient.



The plane eventually, and much to Willow’s relief, landed in New York. When a very dishevelled and exhausted Willow emerged from the baggage claim, she predictably found no one there to meet her. Willow had sighed…just this once she had really needed someone to remember to pick her up. She’d hailed a cab to get home. The driver had piled her bags into the trunk and the taxi had pulled out of the airport…onto the freeway. Willow barely managed to state their destination before, with the hum of the vehicle’s engine and the steady driving motion, she had very promptly fallen asleep…Until now…



Willow blinked the last few remnants of sleep away before realising that the taxi had come to halt. She sighed disappointedly at what was rather unfortunate timing. A very pleasant dream about a certain young blond had been rudely cut short just as it was getting even better.



Mmmmm, Tara kisses…



Willow was even more disgruntled when she looked out the window to see the glaringly familiar façade of her home.



“Here we are young miss,” the driver announced when he saw her finally awake from her slumber, “You looked as though you were going to sleep clear on through to next Christmas.”



Willow managed the barest of smiles before discreetly wiping a small amount of drool from the vinyl of the seat. The driver had already moved around to open the door for her. When she emerged from the cab she straightened her cramped muscles with a pained groan. The last part of her trip over, she was home…and she didn’t like it one little bit.



The driver fetched her bags from the trunk as Willow stood staring up at her house with a strange expression on her tired features,



“Hello home,” she said softly to herself as the taxi driver carried her bags to the front door.



Willow followed the driver reluctantly. He deposited her bags on the top step and after receiving his fare and tip, left her standing there alone. Willow raised her hand to knock, pausing before rapping her knuckles on the heavy wood. I’d rather be in Paris…but then again, I’d rather be anywhere so long as it were with her. She finally knocked and the butler, Mr Jenkins, promptly opened the door.



“Miss Rosenberg! Did you have a pleasant trip?” he asked, his surprise at seeing her home was all too evident in his voice.



Willow realised with some annoyance that she could have quite easily remained in Paris indefinitely and no one would have paid the slightest notice. Except Aunt Elizabeth of course. Willow was relieved to be finally free of the old gargoyle…she was clearly first choice for the part of Paris Willow would miss the least.



“It was great Joe…just great,” Willow picked up her hat box and followed him as he carried her suitcases inside, she shut the door behind her on the outside world.



“My parents aren’t home are they?” she asked half-heartedly as they walked up the stairs, already knowing the answer.



“No, your father is still at work and your mother is…at the meeting for the Ladies Aid Society for the Unfortunate Children of New York…or was that yesterday…maybe it’s the War Widows Society…”



Willow managed a small smile, “It’s alright Joe…I can’t keep them all straight either.”



Joe deposited her bags in her room, “Can I bring you up anything to eat?”



Her stomach rumbled in response but at the same time she was made all too acutely aware of the fact she had spent her hours on the plane throwing up everything she had ever eaten. She was famished but still just the thought of trying to eat food made her nauseous.



“I’m fine thanks Joe. I think I’ll just curl up and go to sleep,” Willow honestly didn’t think she had the energy to do anything else.



He shut the door behind him as he left, leaving Willow standing alone in her room. Everything was exactly as she left it… Willow slowly spun around once to let it all sink in. It was as though she had never left really.



However, she had left and in doing so, her entire life had been changed by meeting one person. It was because of that person that the Willow who stood in the middle of her room was not the same Willow who had packed her bags a mere month ago. She was in love.



As she looked around, everything seemed so sterile and boring. Her collection of porcelain dolls, she had received a new one every birthday since she was five. Her school pennants, awards and trophies. The soft toys piled atop a comforter patterned with pastel pink flowers.



It was a child’s room.



Willow suddenly hated it and had to fight the urge to tear the pictures of cutsey animals and teen rock idols from the walls. She continued to scan the room and her eyes drifted over her carefully shelved and alphabetised record collection. She flicked through them, absently at first. More for something to keep her eyes and hands busy with than a serious desire to actually play something. Frankie Avalon, Jerry Lee Lewis, Elvis Presley…songs of a childhood she desperately wanted to be able to leave behind. Willow picked up Ricky Nelson and remembered the badly out of tune version of his hit song she had sung to Tara on the banks of the Seine. Another song from that night came drifting back to her as she slipped Ricky back into his spot. Something a little more mellow, moody…Dean Martin. She carefully slid the record from its sleeve and placed it on the player. The record started spinning and after she had lowered the needle the soft, warbling tones flowed over her.



Willow sighed and crossed the floor to her bed. She flicked off her shoes and curled up atop the soft comforter. Her eyes closed as she listened to the song, letting the words sink in and memories of her feet dancing across the pavement return. Willow smiled as she drifted off into sleep with one name on her lips…Tara Maclay.



******



Willow managed to sleep through the entire night before waking the next morning in time for Saturday brunch. It was the one day of the week when the Rosenberg family made an attempt to be together…and invariably someone was always missing. However, this bright Saturday morning, a still sleepy eyed Willow walked out onto the patio to find both her mother and father settled down to a hearty brunch. An aroma of smells immediately wafted up Willow’s nose, hash browns, pancakes, waffles with syrup, scrambled eggs. The thought of sitting down with both her parents together almost caused her to sneak discreetly back the way she had came. However, her stomach growled in protest even as she took the tiniest step backwards. Her hunger easily won out.



“Oh, goodness…Willow, I didn’t know you were coming home this week,” Sheila Rosenberg looked up in surprise, “Jenkins, set another place for my daughter please.”



Her parents managed to stare at her in shock for all of two seconds before returning contentedly to their previous activities.



“How was Paris Willow honey?” Ira Rosenberg asked perfunctorily, seemingly more intent on slicing a piece of grapefruit and trying to read his paper at the same time.



“Wonderful Daddy, just wonderful,” Willow yawned as she took a seat, she smiled her thanks as a plate was set before her.



“And how was Elizabeth? I trust you were a gracious and very polite guest…you know, it was very kind of her to have you for the whole month. She is a very busy woman,” her father’s voice took on somewhat of a lecturing tone.



“She was…very well, in excellent health…and yes I was on my best behaviour,” Willow tried not to giggle as she remembered gravy splashing so fantastically all down her Aunt’s bosom. She quickly shoved a forkful of mashed potato into her mouth to stop herself laughing.



Willow gave her parents the somewhat abbreviated version of her holiday. She told them that her camera had fallen into a fountain. The fact that she had been holding the camera as she’d fallen into the fountain while trying to get the attention of a cute blond was not mentioned. She also gave accounts of her trip to the Paris museum, minus the mummy hand incident…and the Louvre without going into details about how French museum curators really shouldn’t dress all in black. Her mother and father both listened somewhat attentively and nodded at appropriate moments. The questions weren’t coming at her from all angles but her mother predictably asked the one question she had been pondering an answer to so as to avoid telling an outright lie.



“So, did you meet anyone nice?” her mother asked, Willow could have sworn she really wanted to ask, so, did you meet any nice young men?



“Oh yes…my cousins had some…interesting friends,” Willow bit her lip, even to say that they were ‘interesting’ was stretching the truth a little too much, “They were…nice…but…”



“Oh well,” her mother replied in a somewhat disappointed tone before quickly brightening when another thought entered her mind, “You remember that nice young man, Hugh Carrington…well, he has asked your father about you on several occasions. I think you made quite a favourable impression on him at Darlington party.”



Willow choked on a mouthful of waffle and tried to recall what on earth she could have said that would have lead him to the conclusion that she was even remotely interested in him. Did I really not looked bored enough?



“Your father and I were thinking of asking his family to dinner one night…” Sheila began, Willow could see her plotting already…her mother always had this funny little quirk to her mouth whenever she was planning something of particular importance. Willow felt a chill run down her spine.



“I did meet someone,” Willow interrupted quickly, stalling her mother’s planning session.



Sheila’s eyes lit up, “Oh really dear, who?”



“A girl…from New York…she was holidaying there too…”



Her mother’s attention waned, she resumed plotting in her head even as she carried out the rest of the conversation politely, “How lovely, and you saw the sights together?”



“What is her name, do we know of her family?” her father managed to put down the morning paper for a few seconds.



“Tara, Tara Maclay,” Willow felt a small, delicious shiver just from saying her name, she wanted to keep repeating it over and over but she knew that would strike her parents as being a little odd.



“Maclay?” her father pondered for a moment, “No, I don’t believe we know anyone of that name. Do we dear?”



His wife shook her head, “No, we don’t. Willow are you sure she came from good people, I mean the thought of my little girl running all over Paris with the wrong crowd…”



“Tara is not the ‘wrong crowd’” Willow gritted her teeth as her mother looked at her with a worried expression.



She thought it ever so typical that her parents would not know the day their daughter was returning from Paris but want to be fully informing as to who she was keeping company with.



“I’m sure she was a very nice girl,” her mother patted her on the hand and resumed eating her grapefruit, her father went back to reading the paper.



That was it, they went back to the activities as though they were glad the momentary interruption to their morning was over. Willow ate the rest of her brunch in silence, the food sitting in one sodden lump in her stomach.



After brunch, Willow wandered aimlessly through the house. Buffy was still at her family’s summer house for another week. What on earth was she going to do? She eventually found herself in the library. It was one of her favourite rooms in the whole house. She picked one of her favourite books from the shelf and curled up in one of the huge armchairs. Despite her long sleep the evening before, her eyelids became heavier the harder she tried to focus on the pages. The book slipped to the floor as Willow fell into a deep sleep.



”Oh my god! I am so not good with heights! I never thought I had a problem until now,” Tara looked gingerly at the edge.



The two girls were standing atop the Eiffel Tower, it was an overcast day but warm and pleasant nevertheless. A cool breeze swirled around them and the other tourists enjoying Paris’s most famous landmark. The whole elevator ride, Tara had clutched Willow’s arm, her face as white as chalk. A very insistent Willow had tried to persuade her that she didn’t have to come up for her sake but Tara was not to be put off by her fear.



“How about I put my arms around you like this,” Willow snaked both her arms around Tara’s waist and held her securely, her chin resting on Tara’s shoulder, “Now walk to the rail.”



Tara slowly walked to the rail which was all that kept them from the colossal drop many meters down to the pavement below. Her heart thumped in her chest as she glanced downward. About to panic and pull back she was suddenly reminded of the firm grasp around her waist, a warm body pressed against her back. Willow was right there right behind her…there was absolutely nothing to worry about. She looked out at the beautiful bird’s eye view surrounding them, the wind whipped her hair across her face but she no longer believed that it would sweep her from her feet and over the railing. A smile curled her lips before a delighted laugh escaped them.



“You’re like a…” Tara searched for the right description, “one of those blankets that small children always carry with them, comforters…a comfy blanket!”



Willow grinned and placed a light kiss on Tara’s cheek, oblivious to anything but the woman in her arms.



“Then that’s what I’ll be,” she announced firmly, “Henceforth I am to be known as ‘comfy Willow!’ Although don’t spread the word otherwise everyone will want one…and I’m just for you.”



“No problem there,” Tara replied quietly, her voice taking on a husky edge to it as Willow rubbed her stomach.



Willow rubbed her body sensually against Tara’s, hips gyrating in a way she would not normally dare in public. One hand began undoing the buttons on Tara’s shirt…people round them began to talk…staring both in fascination and disgust…



Willow’s eyes snapped open and she peered around in a daze. She was still in the library and no one was staring at her. She grinned, they had indeed visited the Eiffel Tower together and Tara had been terrified of going anywhere near the edge until Willow held her hand. The last part of her dream had most certainly not happened…although in hindsight, Willow wished fervently it had. Burrowing deeper into the armchair she tried her best to imagine her arms still wrapped around Tara’s waist but it just wasn’t the same. She missed the tickle of Tara’s blond hair as it brushed against her face. Willow sighed…these next two weeks just couldn’t pass quickly enough.



TBC in Chapter Eighteen – “A Homecoming of a Different Sort.”

“It’s just my imagination. Some people have flat feet. Some people have dandruff. I have this appalling imagination…”

The Seven Year Itch.

[shuyaku]

Aww, I totally feel Willow's pain. And don't even get me started on her parents!



Great update!

-shuyaku

Oh God, Willow—you’re giving me the gift of Karen Carpenter. Just when I think I grasp the full extent of your love." - Tara

"Why do birds suddenly appear? It’s because, you are queer…" - Willow (Gods Served and Abandoned by AntigoneUnbound)

[barnabasvamp]

Awww...Poor Willow. And what a time for her parents to pick to begin asking about her friends!



Curious to see where Tara ends up if her father doesn't forgive her.



BV

It's the passion in a kiss that gives to it its sweetness; it is the affection in a kiss that sanctifies it.

[Tempest Duer]

I'm curious to see what will happen to Tara, because I know that her father will either throw her out or try to kill her. Those are the only things that the bastard is capable of.



Good update there... I know those kinds of dreams...

Willow: Hey Buff. One more thing. Buffy: Yeah? Willow: I’m gay. Buffy: Okay, Will. Xander owes me ten bucks.

~Remember to Breathe by Yellow Crayon

[russ]

Poor Willow: the sorrow of parting, followed by food poisoning. Then arriving to a "home" where the only one to greet her is Joe the butler.



In some ways I feel sorry for Ira & Sheila; they have no idea that the child they sent to Paris is no more. The young woman who returned is a different person, one who they don't know at all. Her rejection of her "child's room" and childish music symbolizes that change. I don't think Willow yet knows how much she has changed, or how she will deal with her parents' attempts to run her life. Somehow I doubt that Hugh Carrington will play much of a role in her future.



While I feel sorry for Willow dealing with her snobbish and manipulative parents, I fear for Tara's safety on her return. Tempest Duer's comment seems about right, and I'm worried that her father may choose the second option.



Again, in all this angst, you manage to include enough humour to balance things out. The edited version of her trip, and the "comfy Willow" dream help remind us that this is still a romantic comedy.



It's the title of the next chapter that makes me nervous. Is that the theme music from "Dragnet" I hear?



Russ

[tinnakaren]

Hmm, this has nothing and everything to do with the update - which was very good in a 'poor Willow' sort of way



Anyway, I dreamt about you posting 3 different updates last night - that's how much I look forward to them

--------------------------

Tinna Karen

-tölvunörd í fyrsta ættlið

[pikescoob]

That line about 2 weeks being an eternity when you're in love is soooo true. Poor Willow...how horrible to throw up so much on an airplane, I mean it's horrible anyway, but those bathrooms are so frickin' small. Oh God, the Eiffel Tower would scare me too...I'm not a big fan of heights, though I love rollercoasters, but I think that's more cuz of the speed and stuff. Can't wait for Tara to get back to NY *grin*



Michelle

[KiwiAlcyone]

shuyaku: thanks! Yeah, Willow’s parents suck in this fic, just doing my best to continue the Sunnydale tradition of absent parental role models.

barnabasvamp: While of course it is a case of ‘poor Willow’, I wanted to give the impression that it has been like this for her entire life. A way to contrast her life before and after meeting Tara. And where Tara ends up is going to be found in the very next chapter, not long to wait now.

Tempest Duer: I don’t think I ever had it in my mind that Tara’s Dad would try to kill her. I don’t want to give anything away but being that this is still a romantic comedy, I want to keep the attempted murders to a minimum. But we certainly haven’t seen the last of Mr Maclay.

And yes, those kind of dreams are the best…except for the waking up part…

russ: While I can’t quite bring myself to feel sorry for Willow’s parents, it is still very sad that they will never really know their daughter. It is clear that Willow is unable to trust her parents enough to tell them any of the changes going on in her life at this point and I think this in itself is sad. It’s no longer a breakdown of communication between the generations but two separate worlds which will never mix well.

And while I said above that there will be no one thinking about killing anyone in this fic, you are right to still worry for Tara.

tinnakaren: I would love to have three updates done in one day but the way things are going at the moment, it’s taking a while just to get one done. However, I hope I’m still updating at a regular enough pace. I’m glad you look forward to them!

pikescoob: I was a bit mean to poor Willow but I wanted to make her sleep a lot on her return to New York for the dream sequences so hence the throwing up for the whole flight.

And Tara is going to be back in New York very, very soon.



The update isn’t far away at all, pretty much done so hopefully I should have it up and posted either tonight or tomorrow. *Flexes typing fingers*



-Alcy

“It’s just my imagination. Some people have flat feet. Some people have dandruff. I have this appalling imagination…”

The Seven Year Itch.

[Tempest Duer]

Well, that is true, but we all know what we think of the Maclay men on this board.



I'll be waiting for the update. Don't let your fingers get tired.

Willow: Hey Buff. One more thing. Buffy: Yeah? Willow: I’m gay. Buffy: Okay, Will. Xander owes me ten bucks.

~Remember to Breathe by Yellow Crayon

[KiwiAlcyone]

Chapter Eighteen – “A Homecoming of a Different Sort.”





Much to Tara’s relief, her last week in Paris had flown by in a blur of lectures and last minute research. Giles had been true to his word in promising to keep her so busy that she would not had time to miss Willow. However, despite her lack of time to stop and reflect, every little thing she did made her think of Willow. She suspected that nothing would lessen the constant, dull ache in her heart that never failed to remind her how far away from her Willow was.



So when it finally came time to pack her bags on her very last day in Paris, Tara did it with barely a hint of reluctance. While of course it was sad to be leaving such a beautiful city, she wanted more than anything to go home. Not home to the dingy apartment in Greenwich Village where her father and Donny would no doubt be cursing her name…Tara shivered, that had never been home. She really had no home in the sense of a building to go to…



Willow was home.



There was a light knock at the door to her hotel room and she opened it to reveal Giles, his packed bags sitting out in the hall behind him. Tara smiled as she placed the last few items in her suitcase, pressed it down firmly and closing it shut without too much difficulty. As the lock clicked audibly she realised that the one suitcase was her entire life. Everything she now owned was in one suitcase…Tara paused for a moment before inexplicably running her hands over the top of the case. Whether Giles was realised the same thing or something else altogether, his hand reaching up to sit on her shoulder was a welcome touch.



“All packed,” Tara said, tapping her fingers on the lid of the case in a quick, drumming beat.



“You’re a wonder Tara…I’ve never seen a girl pack so fast,” Giles smiled at first but very quickly held up his hands in surrender at the glacial look on Tara’s face. She couldn’t hold the look for long and a small giggle burst from her throat.



Giles’ stared at her for a few moments before his smile faded and he wandered over to sit on the corner of the bed, he looked at her with a steady, resolute expression, “About what you told me last week…about your family…I know you didn’t want to fully discuss it then…”



…Tara had sat down and told Giles everything the day after Willow had left Paris. Well, not everything because Giles already knew much of her story…she just corrected her lies. She had quickly dissolved into tears at the look on Giles’ face when the truth finally came out. She had lied to him, made him take her to Paris under false pretences and had waited a month to tell him about it…and then he ruined her apology by not being the least bit angry. At first he sat in silence, such a look of sorrow on his face. It had broken her heart because she knew it was a look she didn’t really deserve. Then he had taken her into his arms and held her tightly as she cried.



“Why didn’t you tell me Tara?” he asked softly, a soft voice tinged with disappointment.



“I d-don’t…know…”



Giles saw she was having difficulty getting the words out and continued, “I mean, I knew you were having a rough time at home, ever since your mother died but…why didn’t you tell me?”



“What could you have done?” Tara sobbed quietly, she had always known that no one could have done anything.



“I don’t know, something…anything…anything to make things better for you.”



Tara turned her head so she could look at Giles from the corner of her eye. Her heart swelled with gratitude towards the kindly Englishman.



“You always did,” Tara replied quietly.



She was sure Giles’ cheeks had a slight pink tinge to them as he let her get back to her feet. He removed his glasses in order to give them a thoroughly unnecessary cleaning.



“Well, I’ll do whatever I can to help…”



“Giles, you don’t need to…”



“Tara, let me do this,” Giles had said firmly, effectively silencing Tara’s protests…



“Anyway…about last week. I didn’t want to spring this on you now but it’s as good a time as any. Do you know what you’re going to do when we get back.”



Tara shrugged, she hated to admit that she hadn’t the slightest idea as to how she was going to get by on her own, “Find some place to stay I guess.”



“You can come and stay at my place for as long as you need…”



“Giles…no…”



He was quick to nod, saving her from completing the rest of her polite refusal and he continued, “I knew you’d say that and…I know of a place you can stay…”



*****



Tara looked up at the old but well kept up townhouse and tried to look a little upbeat…



She was back in New York after a very uneventful plane ride during which she had managed to sleep most of the way. This was even despite an overactive child whose parents had clearly given it too much sugar kicking the back of her seat repeatedly. Her dreams had been of a certain gorgeous redhead with a cute tendency to babble. The way Giles was looking at her when she had woken up, Tara wondered if she’d said anything particularly incriminating in her slumber. However, when she looked at him inquiringly, he just set about cleaning his glasses as though his life depended on it.



…The townhouse was a charming brick building complete with brightly coloured plants in window boxes. The building gave off a strong aura of familiarity and comfort even though Tara knew full well she had never laid eyes on it before. It was miles away from her old home…and it felt miles away. According to Giles, the neighbourhood was mostly young couples and families…small children around them were playing on the street with carefree abandon. It was all very tidy, well-kept and most importantly, it looked very safe. So safe that Tara was almost able to forget the horrible fear she had of expecting to run into her father around every corner…almost.



Giles knocked on the door as Tara hung back, still a little nervous and unsure. A few moments passed until a stout, pleasant looking woman answered the door and spoke with Giles for a few moments. The woman looked to be anywhere from her late thirties to her early fifties but her sparkling brown eyes were definitely those of a young woman. Her slightly greying, dark hair was done up in a lose bun. Tara couldn’t hear what she was talking about with Giles but the fact that she smiled a lot served to put her at ease. After a few moments, Giles turned back to her with a smile of his own and beckoned her inside.



“Hi Tara, I’m Mrs Connelly, but you can feel free to call Abby, everyone pretty much does anyway,” Tara shook the hand that Abby held out to her. Her grip was firm and reassuring, Tara couldn’t hold back a small smile.



“Abby is an old friend of mine…you’ll be well looked after here,” Giles said as they followed Abby into the house and up a set of stairs.



“You’re lucky, I had a girl move out to get married just a few days ago. The nicest room too, looks out over the street. Giles tells me you’re a very intelligent and well-mannered young lady so I’m pleased to offer it to you…Rupert doesn’t lightly hand out his compliments” Abby continued talking, not stopping to take one breath even as she moved swiftly up the stairs, “I’ve been having girls stay under my roof for the last thirteen years, ever since my Harold was killed somewhere in the Pacific during the war. Most girls leave to get married and by the looks of you, I’ll say you haven’t got long to wait for someone to sweep you off your feet.”



She opened the first door on the right and ushered them inside. Tara meanwhile felt her cheeks grow a little warm as she entered the room. It was a very decent size, more than enough space for her to move about in between the bed, a large standing wardrobe and a chest of drawers. A small bedside table with a lamp rounded out the room’s complement of furniture. The walls were papered in a soft mint green, soothing to the eye and completely offset by the bright yellow curtains on either side of the window. Tara smiled in spite of her nervousness. It was charming.



“There’s usually about five girls under my roof, they come and go at all hours of the day but you’ll meet them all in time. I think they’re a good bunch so you won’t have too much trouble making friends. You share one bathroom at the end of the hall so there’s not enough hot water to dawdle any while you shower. I serve breakfast at seven and dinner at six, curfew is at eleven…there are to be no men above the ground floor at any time,” as Abby listed the rules Tara paid close attention and knew the last wouldn’t pose a problem.



“Any questions?” Abby asked Tara.



Tara could only shake her head with a shy smile, it was still a little too much to take in.



“Perhaps you should…call your father, he might be worried about you and he is legally still your guardian,” Tara spun around from facing Abby to stare at Giles. His expression was soft, concerned while her face was a mask of panic, “You never know…”



“G-Giles…I do know, I know him…if he were to find out where I am…” Tara felt a shiver run down her spin at the thought, “You can’t send word to him…please.”



At that moment she was less than glad to be back in New York, she wanted to be as far away from him as possible. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to get back on a plane and fly to California…or maybe Australia.



Giles nodded in reply, a little reluctantly because he was feeling guilty for the part he had played in helping her run away from her family. Yet, at the same time, nothing he had ever done in his life had made him happier. Tara deserved to find happiness in life and he knew that the man who called himself her father would never allow her to find it. Giles also suspected that Mr Maclay would be less than enthusiastic about Tara’s new relationship with Willow. He on the other hand, would do anything for the two girls because he knew that Tara’s happiness was intimately tied up with the beautiful, young redhead.



Abby, to her credit, sensed the tension in the air and excused herself from the room without a fuss, “Well, I also expect you’re very tired after your trip, I’m not very far away if you do think of anything you need.”



Tara lifted her head to smile at the older woman, “Thank you so much Mrs Connelly…Abby.”



Abby exited the room and Tara was left alone with Giles. The young woman opened her suitcase on the bed and stared at it, transfixed. It was all she owned in the world…her father would most likely do something unmentionable if he ever saw her again…she was in love with a girl…and she had never been so happy in all her life.



“Go call Willow then,” Giles said softly, “You’ve been pining after her every waking, and I suspect every sleeping second for the last two weeks…. and I know she’ll be dying to see you.”



Giles suspected that was a gross understatement as to how much the two girls had been missing each other. He was pleased to get a warm smile out of Tara.



“I will…I think maybe I need to sleep on everything first…I mean, I must look terrible…she can’t see me like this.”



“Willow would think you were the most beautiful girl on earth if you had just been dragged through a swamp face first,” Giles chuckled at the look he caused on Tara’s face, “Abby will take good care of you. I’ll see you at the store on Monday?”



Tara nodded and turned away from her suitcase to stand right in front of Giles, tears misted her eyes when she looked up at him, “Giles…thank…”



He silenced her grateful thanks by touching her lips briefly with his finger, just seeing her smile was all the thanks he ever needed. The door closed behind Giles and Tara was left alone in her new room. Although she was exhausted and somewhat hungry the first thing she did was unpack her suitcase. She didn’t make much progress however, the first item she removed from the top of her suitcase was a pale pink sweater. Tara stopped, remembering she had worn it on the rare afternoon it had rained while she was in Paris.



Tara closed her eyes and smiled at the memory of sitting in the conservatory at Willow’s aunts home as daylight passed into dusk, listening to the sound of the raindrops falling on the glass. Being a very public place she and Willow had barely been touching, just their hips and thighs pressed together as they sat and yet that small touch was all they needed to feel their love.



“I love the rain,” Willow said looking up, watching the rivulets of water run down the glass above them.



“You wouldn’t love it so much if you were out in it,” Tara had teased with a giggle.



Willow sat forward on the seat and glanced back at Tara with a mischievous little look on her face. She obviously took Tara’s words as some sort of dare and before Tara had been able to stop her she was on her feet, moving to open the conservatory door.



“Willow!” Tara watched in part horror and part amusement as the redhead stepped out into the almost tropical downpour.



In seconds her red hair was plastered to her face, clothes soaked…and, as Tara was most pleased to observe, clinging in all the right places.



“I love the rain!” Willow shouted over the din of the downpour, doing a little twirl in a puddle to emphasise her point.



“Willow Rosenberg…get back in here you silly git!” although Tara was struggling not to collapse in a fit of laughter, she was also worried that Willow would catch a cold or worse.



Willow grinned, twirled once more for good measure and then sloshed her way back inside, leaving a puddle wherever she went. She lifted her arms wide and made to give Tara a giant hug.



“C’mere baby!”



“On second thoughts…” Tara said, evading Willow’s clumsy lunges, “You can stay out there!”



*****



Tara curled up to sleep that night in a strange but comfortable bed, in a strange room with an odd sense of contentment. She dreamed of the sound of the rain falling on glass…and funny little Willow-sneezes…



Never before had New York seemed like such a wonderful city to live…and so full of promise.



*****



“Miss…W-Willow Rosenberg please,” Tara gripped the phone with a shaking hand.



She stood in the downstairs foyer of the boarding house, having just dialled Willow’s number and listening as the phone was answered in a formal tone. Tara almost slammed the phone back down at that instant, it was only by sheer force of will that she kept it pressed to her ear.



“And who may I say is calling?” the stiff voice asked.



“T-Tara Maclay…” Tara wondered if she ought to say anything further but apparently it was not required as she heard the sound of the phone being put down and footsteps walking away.



Tara waited as patiently as she could but she could barely stop herself from jumping up and down on the spot. Another of Abby’s boarders walked past her, the girl looked at Tara strangely…Tara could only grin back stupidly as she rocked back and forth on her heels.



After what seemed like an hour had passed, Tara heard the sound of the phone on the other end moving and she held her breath…



“Willow speaking,” it was the most beautiful sound in the world and Tara listened with her grin growing by the second.



“Hello?” Willow’s voice came over the phone line again.



Tara realised she’d completely forgotten to say anything, flustered she quickly sought the perfect words to say in reply but came up a complete blank.



“Hello?” Willow sounded confused.



“H-hi…it’s…” Tara started.



“Tara!” Willow exclaimed down the phone line, “You’re back! How was your flight? How is Mr Giles? Speaking of flights, I had the world’s worst flight ever…I had food poisoning, throwing up every minute it seemed…it was awful…I was so glad to finally get back to New York but now that I’m here…I’ve spent more time with my parents these past two weeks than I have at any other time in my life…I really didn’t want to know them that well!”



Tara could only listen to Willow babble on the other end of the line, nodding at moments, even though Willow couldn’t see her. She furrowed her brow in concern when Willow mentioned her illness on the way home and laughed at the slightly piqued but also jovial tone in her voice as she spoke of her parents. After rattling off at least a half a dozen more questions that Tara could never hope to remember long enough to answer them all, Willow finally stopped talking. The phone line was completely silent for a few moments, the only sound being a slight crackle which neither girl noticed.



“I missed you,” they both said at the said time…then they both let out a long breath and a matching nervous giggle.



“Um…what happened…when you got back I mean, where are you staying?” Willow asked quietly in an anxious voice. It was the question which had occupied her worried mind for the past two weeks.



“Oh, Mr Giles…he found me this place…a boarding house of sorts I guess, for young women. The lady who owns it…Abby, she’s really nice…” Tara hadn’t really been there long enough to tell whether she really liked living there, but she had a good feeling.



“Oh thank god, I was so worried about you…”



“You needn’t be worried sweetie…I was in good hands.”



“Yeah, Mr Giles…” Willow couldn’t possibly thank the man enough for all he had done for them.



“So…” Tara began, unsure of the right words to say, “I-I was wondering when…I mean, if you w-want of course…um…”



Willow laughed in spite of herself. Tara rarely ever stuttered in her presence anymore but it seemed as though talking over the phone was not one of her strong points.



“When can we meet?” Willow filled in Tara’s question for her, “Um…there’s a dinner tonight…I have to be there, some thing for my Daddy’s business…but tomorrow I have nothing planned…you can come over tomorrow right? Because if I have to wait any longer to see you I think I might go stark raving mad.”



“Saturday? Sure,” Tara replied, barely able to contain her enthusiasm.



“Grr, I hear my mother calling me, I think she wants me for something. Until tomorrow then,” Willow said, Tara could tell she was grinning from ear to ear even though she couldn’t see her…the grin was in her voice.



“Until tomorrow,” Tara said softly and hung up the phone with a sigh.





TBC in Chapter Nineteen – “Reunions…Good and Bad.”

“It’s just my imagination. Some people have flat feet. Some people have dandruff. I have this appalling imagination…”

The Seven Year Itch.

[Tempest Duer]

Yay! They're going to see each other again soon! I can hardly wait...



But of course, the title means that there's a dark occurrence waiting on the horizon... that lame rich guy who's into Willow, maybe... hmmm....

Willow: Hey Buff. One more thing. Buffy: Yeah? Willow: I’m gay. Buffy: Okay, Will. Xander owes me ten bucks.

~Remember to Breathe by Yellow Crayon

[barnabasvamp]

So nice of Giles to find Tara a place to stay, and hopefully her father won't find out!



Hmmm the next chapter

Quote:

---

“Reunions…Good and Bad.”

---

The title has me just a tad bit worried.



More soon??



BV

It's the passion in a kiss that gives to it its sweetness; it is the affection in a kiss that sanctifies it.

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



New York, Tara's father and brother, Willow's parents- not that I'm concerned at all. Nope.



All right, just a little. Really.



And then?





Jixer

[pikescoob]

I knew Giles would help Tara stay away from her father and brother...lol, the no guys upstairs rule, a nice perk of being in love with a girl, she's got clearance Can't wait for them to see each other again...though I'm kinda worried how her parents will treat Tara.



Michelle

[4WiccanLuv]

Yup...Giles is the man! I knew he'd help Tara. Loved the way Willow babbled when they spoke on the phone...so cute. Can't wait for the girls to hook up, but like some of the others here, I'm a bit worried about the title of the next chapter. What could possibly be bad about their reunion, unless you're talkin' about Tara and her dumbass Dad and brother? Yipes! Not lookin' foward to that one at all.



Keep it coming!

"Those are my principles. If you don't like them I have others." - Groucho Marx

[KiwiAlcyone]

Tempest Duer: Willow and Tara are great characters by themselves but when you get them together it’s just irresistible…and of course often leads to smooching. Damn those dark occurrences…

barnabasvamp: It was a little too ominous a title I’m afraid, I was trying to think of something a little less blatant but oh well, suffice to say, clouds ahead but nothing our girls can’t handle…hopefully.

jixer: Yeah, there’s not much to be concerned about, it’ll all work out, I promise! *insert evil grin here.*

pikescoob: Hee hee, yeah, the no guy upstairs rule does seem to fit their situation quite nicely and I’m sure it will come into play in a future chapter.

4WiccanLuv: Giles is so the man in my book. Surrogate Dad Giles to the rescue!

A reunion with Mr Maclay and Donny would be cause for much worry on the part of all kittens because they're, well...you know, not very nice…



Update after work tonight...I wonder why I don't ever update before work? Well, probably because work sucks and it's nice to have something fun to do when I get home! Not long to wait kittens!



-Alcy

“It’s just my imagination. Some people have flat feet. Some people have dandruff. I have this appalling imagination…”

The Seven Year Itch.

[Tempest Duer]

Don't mince words, Alcy. We hate the Maclay men with a fierce, firy, all-consuming passiony hatred that makes us want to set them on fire or something equally violent.

Willow: Hey Buff. One more thing. Buffy: Yeah? Willow: I’m gay. Buffy: Okay, Will. Xander owes me ten bucks.

~Remember to Breathe by Yellow Crayon

[KiwiAlcyone]

Chapter Nineteen – “Reunions…Good and Bad.”





Tara felt an unnerving sense of déjà vu as she stood in front of Willow’s home…her real home this time. While the actual building wasn’t quite as imposing as Willow’s Aunt’s home in Paris, it was actually ten times worse because it was where the parents lived. The thought that she actually might meet them was enough to send her into a near state of panic.



She walked up the stairs to the door, tackling each step one at a time, as though each were a huge hurdle. It took what seemed like an age to actually make it to the door and when she was actually standing in front of it, it was all the more imposing. Tara lifted her hand to press the doorbell but before she did the door flew open with such speed that Tara stepped back in fright and almost fell backwards down the stairs.



The door of course had been Willow-powered. The redhead now stood on the threshold with shining green eyes. Tara struggled to fight the immediate urge to seek out those pink, rosebud lips with her own and kiss Willow within an inch of her life. Willow was obviously thinking exactly the same thought, her mouth was parted slightly in a silent plea of need and want. All they could do for those first few moments was stare…drinking and devouring each other with their eyes.



Tara searched every aspect of Willow’s face and found it to be exactly the same as it had been the day they had said goodbye at the airport…minus the tear tracks of course. Each freckle was present and accounted for. There was just the tiniest little blemish on her chin, probably a result of eating too many of the chocolate truffles that Tara knew Willow was so very fond of.



Willow thought Tara looked a little tired, the blond had circles under her eyes, probably as a result of the plane flight just the day before. Everything else however, was still perfect…the eyes which had watched over Willow in her dreams every night for the past two weeks were now staring at her for real. A smile crept across her face and she took a step forward onto the doorstep. Tara needed no further invitation as she threw herself into Willow’s arms, her own arms flinging around Willow’s neck accompanied by a small exclamation of delight.



“Ah, Tara!” Willow whispered as Tara squeezed her to the point of cutting off her supply of oxygen, “Breathing?”



“I don’t care about breathing!” Tara relaxed her hold and drew back so she could stare into Willow’s eyes.



“Well, it’s kind of necessary…but I think with the amount of time I have to spend holding my breath when I’m around you…it’s definitely overrated.”



There was a small cough behind them and Willow and Tara sprang apart. Jenkins was standing behind them, obviously wondering why Willow had suddenly usurped his task of opening the front door to guests.



“Ah Joe, this is Tara Maclay, a good friend I met in Paris, Tara, Joe…our butler.”



Tara smiled and shook the hand he extended to her warmly, “Pleased to meet you Joe.”



“Ah, Tara…there’s that thing I wanted to show to you in my room,” Willow winked in Tara’s direction and then added with a smile, “Excuse us Joe.”



Willow grabbed Tara’s hand and the two of them ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time.



“You have a butler?” Tara asked incredulously as Willow dragged her along.



Willow slowed once they reached the landing at the top, “A butler, three maids, two cooks, a gardener, a chauffeur…and I used to have a nanny, until I was thirteen and she got sick of me showing her how well I could do math sums in my head.”



Tara looked at Willow with a raised eyebrow and Willow laughed, “Well, I was really too old for a nanny but I did used to do the sums to impress everyone…I was a bit of a geek…and I liked attention.”



Willow led Tara into her room. Normally those first few moments would have been used to let ones eyes roam over the previously unseen bedroom, perusing the record collection or sighing at the pictures of Elvis and Frankie Avalon on the walls. However, as soon as the door was shut behind them, Willow and Tara practically threw themselves at one another. Tara felt her back slam against the door as Willow’s body weight pressed against her with all the force of a miniature tornado. Their lips hungrily sought out each others and they proceeded to do what they could only imagine doing when the were staring at each other on the doorstep.



As they kissed, they realised how much they had really missed each other. Hands roamed over tightly pressed bodies. Breath fell hot and fast into each others mouths. Tara felt her legs turned to custard as she tasted Willow’s lips, felt Willow’s breasts press against her own. If it wasn’t for Willow’s weight holding her against the door she would definitely have fallen over.



“I missed…you…so much!” Willow gasped in between kisses, “I missed you…missed this.”



Tara grinned as Willow nibbled her nose and then moved on to bite her upper lip gently, sucking on it.



“Willow,” Tara said as she let her hands roam over the redhead’s back, “We have all the time in the world, we can talk later…right now however…”



“Oh right!” Willow grinned, looking into Tara’s eyes and finding them glazed with passion, “Kissing Tara…kissing…”



Tara silenced Willow by placing her lips firmly against hers, crushing them fiercely. Willow responded, searching out ways to get a moan from her girlfriend. She insistently parted Tara’s lips with her tongue, seeking to gain entrance to Tara’s mouth. The blond opened her mouth willingly with a slight gasp and then a much more drawn out moan of need as Willow’s tongue thrust deeply.



“Willow,” came a voice from the other side of the door, the handle turned and the door would have opened if Willow and Tara’s combined body weight had not been pressed against it.



Willow and Tara both fell away from the door and each other as it opened to reveal Shelia Rosenberg standing there with a perplexed look on her face. The two girls were both flushed, lips beginning to swell from the intensely passionate kisses they had been sharing before Willow’s mother interrupted them.



“Why couldn’t I open the door?” Sheila asked Willow, but didn’t take her eyes off Tara, the blond went even redder and ducked her head.



“Ah, we were dancing, sorry, we got a little carried away,” Willow spoke up quickly, seeing Tara’s discomfort. It wasn’t too much of a lie…they had sort of been dancing, although not the type of dancing she wanted her mother to think they had been doing, “Ah mother, this is Tara Maclay…I told you about her. Tara, my mother, Shelia Rosenberg.”



“I’m very pleased to meet you Mrs Rosenberg,” Tara spoke up in a slightly trembling voice.



“Ah, so this is your little friend you met in Paris!” Sheila exclaimed in delight, she was always delighted to be able to inspect Willow’s friends first hand, “I saw you two run upstairs and wondered if you would like to take afternoon tea with me in the garden, it’s a lovely afternoon.”



Willow groaned inwardly and yet she knew her mother would demand an elaborate explanation in the face of a refusal. There was no way out of it…the truth was definitely out of the question,



I can just see the look on her face if I told her what I would much rather be doing than taking tea with her, Willow was thinking as she looked at the openly earnest expression on her mothers face, No mother, Tara and I had planned a leisurely afternoon of making out and later on, some snuggling…She’d probably faint.



“We’d be delighted Mrs Rosenberg,” Tara surprised Willow completely by taking the initiative and answering for the both of them. Just by watching the expressions play across her girlfriend’s face, she had known as well as Willow that the afternoon tea was unavoidable.



Willow saw the immensely pleased expression on her mother’s face and knew Tara had just scored some serious brownie points. She winked at the blond as they followed her mother out the door, Tara brushed a finger along Willow’s bare arm as they moved along the corridor.



*****



As they sat in the garden, Tara couldn’t help but wonder if she was going about this the right way. Should she have offered to pour Mrs Rosenberg a cup of tea…was it impolite to refuse to take a piece of the layer cake sitting on the tray? In the end, she just followed Willow’s lead. Willow poured tea for everyone and she sliced off a generous slice of cake for Tara. Their fingers brushed lightly as she reached out to take it.



Tara sat with her cake on her lap and cup and saucer in her hand, taking delicate sips and probably managing to look as awkward as she felt. Come on Tara, it’s just afternoon tea! You can do this…just don’t break anything! She was pleased to find Willow’s mother to be very unlike Aunt Elizabeth. For the most part, the elegant older woman appeared to be harmless and very friendly. However, the strange manner in which Willow had begun to behave served to unnerve her somewhat. It was the way she would have expected someone from Willow’s background to behave, polite, formal and deferring. If she didn’t know Willow a lot better, she would have thought that was how the redhead was all the time. Yet Tara knew it wasn’t Willow…the real Willow was boisterous, chatty and incredibly clumsy. She loved both of them but she knew which one Willow preferred to be.



She was also convinced that Willow’s mother was watching her like a hawk, just waiting for her to make the slightest mistake in etiquette. Tara was sure she ought to have sweat beading on her forehead with all the effort it was requiring to keep her plates balanced and keep a straight face.



Willow watched her mother, hand tightening around the tea cup in her hand as she waiting in agony for the round of questioning she knew would start as soon as she was done with her first cup of tea. Willow suspected the time that it took to drink that first cup was to lull the guest into a state of relaxation before she pounced mercilessly. She looked worriedly at Tara who already appeared to be uncomfortable just sitting in her lawn chair with tea and cake. The two girls made momentary eye contact across the table and Willow gave Tara what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Tara responded by grimacing ever so slightly. For a few seconds Willow was worried but then the fake grimace was replaced by a small, lop-sided smile. Willow poked her tongue out playfully.



“So Tara, did you have a good time in Paris?” Sheila asked as she held out her cup for Willow to refill it.



“The most amazing time ever, the city is certainly the wonderful place that I had always heard it was,” Tara replied honestly, it didn’t take much for her to gush about how wonderful it had been though. That morning over breakfast she had uncharacteristically talked non-stop to the other girls at the boarding house for a whole half an hour about Paris.



“Were you on holiday with your family?”



That was it, the easy questions were over as quickly as they had begun. Now came the time to either weave a big blanket of lies or tell the truth as much as she possibly could. Tara took a deep breath,



“It was more of a working holiday actually, I was accompanying a university lecturer as his assistant. I was lucky to get a lot of free time to explore the sights…with Willow.”



Tara though she saw Willow grimace ever so slightly as she watched for her mother’s reaction. Sheila just raised her eyebrows for a moment and continued talking,



“How interesting, how on earth did you meet Willow then? My daughter has never worked an honest day in her life…I would never had thought she knew how to relate to someone who has.”



Tara risked looking at Willow to see a pained expression flash across her face. Is this what she had to put up with from her own mother?



“Um…” Tara didn’t know quite what version of the story to give Sheila, well, there was only one version, “Actually, I saved Willow from a nasty death by drowning.”



“You almost drowned?” Sheila asked Willow incredulously.



“No, no,” Tara burst in quickly, “She fell in a fountain because…she was distracted…I helped her out. It was all very harmless really…the only things hurt were Willow’s camera and her pride.”



Sheila actually laughed and Willow looked at her mother as though she had sprouted an extra head. That was not the reaction she had been expecting at all.



“Yes, I could just see Willow doing that…she has always has had a tendency to get herself into less than dignified situations.”



How would you know! Willow thought indignantly, You haven’t been around for most of my life!



“Willow, it seems you had a much better time in Paris than you let on,” Sheila began and Willow felt her heart thump faster, “But I’m very pleased that you met such a nice young lady to share the fun with…”



Willow looked first to her mother who was smiling genuinely at her and then to Tara, who looked just as confused as she felt. Her mother liked Tara! She felt like bouncing in her seat…this was definitely a first in Willow world. Usually her mother found something wrong with her friends…she had managed to avoid speaking to Buffy for a whole year following their first meeting.



“Will!” the aforementioned friend came out onto the lawn, a broad smile on her face.



Willow grinned and stood to meet her as Buffy threw her arms around her neck enthusiastically. Sheila used the interruption to make her exit.



“Oh goodness, look at the time…I’m expected at a meeting for the Ladies Aid Society shortly. I’ll let you young ladies talk,” Sheila stood and smiled warmly at Tara, “It was lovely to meet you Tara.”



“Thank you Mrs Rosenberg, it was nice to meet you too.”



Sheila left the young women to hang out without the aggravating presence of an older person. There were a few awkward moments as they waited for her to re-enter the house and then more awkwardness still as Buffy and Tara waited for Willow to introduce her to her new friend. Tara found her shyness creep up on her unexpectedly beneath Buffy’s curious gaze, she ducked her head.



“Buffy…this is Tara, Tara, Buffy,” Willow announced with a smile, crossing her fingers behind her back as her best friend met her girlfriend for the first time…although of course Buffy didn’t know about the girlfriend part.



Buffy exuberantly extended her hand and Tara was on the receiving end of a very firm, boisterous Buffy-shake. Tara managed a small, shy grin in reply.



A few moments later, a very content Willow sat and observed as Buffy and Tara chatted away happily. It was as though they had known each other for years instead of merely a few minutes. She wasn’t surprised however, Buffy was exceedingly easy going and had very little trouble making new friends…and Tara, well Willow did have to admit her opinion was somewhat biased but, who didn’t love her as soon as they met her?



“…so it turned out that while we thought we had broken a priceless ancient artefact…it was really just a fake!” Tara finished while Buffy was clutching her stomach in hysterics.



“That is so Will!” Buffy managed after she regained control of herself, “I remember, we were both invited to a birthday party when we were ten. It was for a girl from school who’s parents were incredibly wealthy and anyway, Willow broke some priceless French figurine thing when no one else was looking…she started balling her eyes out…”



Willow glared in mock anger at Buffy for sharing that little piece of information…



“…she was so upset. I put the head back on and it looked just fine…but poor Will spent the rest of the party terrified that someone would find the statue was broken…you should have seen her run out the door when the party was finally over. You know…we never did find out when they found it was broken.”



Willow looked a little guilty, “I know…it was wrong not to say anything but I was somewhat of a bratty child.”



“You?” Tara asked with feigned incredulity.



“Hey, I have since cleaned up my act and now I’m a lot better behaved!”



“Yeah, you stopped blaming the servants whenever you filched a piece of chocolate cake or tracked mud from you shoes all over the house,” Buffy laid bare more of Willow’s delinquent past much to Tara’s amusement.



“Hey! I can’t help that I didn’t have brothers or sisters to blame stuff like that on!” Willow protested, “I still feel bad about it sometimes now…I’m really a very nice person…honest!”



Tara grinned and risked patting Willow’s arm slightly, wanting to linger but not daring to in front of Buffy, “You’re the nicest.”



If Buffy noticed the look the passed between the two of them, she didn’t say anything about it but she didn’t stop talking either. If there was one reason Tara could see as to why Willow and Buffy were such good friends it was that they both loved to talk. Or perhaps that was a bad thing…she wondered how a conversation between the two of them would play out.



“I don’t know about being the nicest. I mean, if there was one chocolate truffle left she wouldn’t offer it to anyone else. There’s one thing you should know Tara, don’t get between Willow and her truffles.”



Tara and Willow shared another glance under the pretence of amusement. However, Willow’s eyes said that she was thinking about something far more important than her selfishness when it came to the last truffle.



I’d share everything with you, Willow thought vehemently, …I want to share my life with you, everything I have…however little that is.



The talked until dusk started to fall and Tara looked at her watch with a slight frown,



“The last street car passes by in a few minutes, I should get going…”



“No stay, Mr Weiss can drop you home later!” Willow protested plaintively.



“It’s alright Willow, I’ll give you and Buffy time to catch up, she’ll want to see all your pictures.”



The three of them wandered back into the house, pausing to say goodbye to Tara at the front door. Willow reached out and gave Tara’s hand a quick squeeze before the blond left…but what she really wanted was to feel Tara’s lips on hers.



“I’ll call you,” Tara whispered huskily, obviously thinking the same thing Willow was.



“Bye,” I love you. Willow watched her go until the door closed on the best view in the world and she was able to turn her attention back to Buffy, “We’ll move up to my room, I have heaps of pictures…even though I totally destroyed my camera almost the first day I was there…silly story really…”



The two friends walked up the stairs to Willow’s room, once they were inside Buffy startled Willow by throwing herself at her almost in the same manner Tara had a few hours ago. In a flurry of arms and limbs held Willow tightly and proceeded to cut off all the redhead’s supply of oxygen.



“You did meet someone in Paris!” Buffy said with wide eyes as Willow struggled to flick out a foot and kick the door shut, “I mean…look at you!”



“What do you mean?” Willow asked once she had managed to take a few breaths.



“You’re…glowing! I haven’t seen you so happy since you came first in every subject at last years school prize giving.”



“And I would have come first in everything this year too, if Geraldine Snodgrass hadn’t sabotaged my science experiment, that conniving, cheating sore loser…”



‘Will!” Buffy shook her by the shoulders, “We’re talking about falling in love here…not science experiments…So, spill the beans. Tell me absolutely everything, who is it?”



Willow smiled broadly, she had met someone…the someone but whether or not she could tell Buffy was the real question that needed to be asked. She looked at Buffy’s openly expectant face, her eyes shining in anticipation. Buffy was her best friend…they had been best friends ever since they had started school together at the age of five. They had shared everything in life so far, as best friends did…before Paris, there had been no secrets between them…except for the fact that I’m attracted to girls, Willow mused, remembering the way their previous conversation had turned out.



“You’re attracted to a girl?” Buffy coughed on her soda and had to set it down on the floor.



“N-no…definitely not, not at all,” Willow shook her head quickly, “I was just asking if…I mean, does it happen?”



“Not to my knowledge it doesn’t,” Buffy looked at Willow as though she had sprouted an extra head, “Are you feeling okay Will?”



Yet, for all the lack of success she had that time, Willow wanted desperately to be able to tell Buffy. She longed to be able to share her happiness at having found Tara with someone else. Willow bit her lip and met Buffy’s gaze calmly.



“Oh Will,” Buffy said with wide eyes when she saw how nervous Willow was, she placed a hand on Willow’s arm, “He’s not married is he?”



“No…not married,” Willow met Buffy’s gaze calmly, whatever her best friend’s reaction she would not be ashamed of the fact that Tara was her girlfriend, “It’s a little more complicated than that…”



“How can love be complicated?” Buffy asked with a small grin, “I mean, if you love someone…then you love them, it’s as simple as that…come on Will, you know I’m always here for you.”



“Buffy…it’s T-Tara.”



“What do you mean Will?” Buffy asked with a frown, “You can’t tell me who it is because of Tara?”



Willow shook her head slowly, becoming more nervous by the second, “It’s Tara…”



Willow watched Buffy digest the information all too slowly. At first, the blonde frowned in puzzlement before a look of understanding dawned on her features. Her eyes went wide and her mouth worked soundlessly like a goldfish. She stood up and began pacing the room backwards and forth, wringing her hands as though she were in the cast of a Shakespearian tragedy. Eventually she was able to make small sounds, half-formed words…



“W-Will…b-but…s-she…you…” Buffy had a lump stuck in her throat, she coughed, patting herself on the chest before meeting Willow’s gaze and exclaiming, “Willow, you’re a lesbian?”



“I’m in love with her Buffy…and it’s not a fleeting thing…it’s for real…I-I can’t explain it…”



“Don’t Will…don’t…I don’t want to hear it!”



“Buffy?”



Buffy stood and threw an angry glance in Willow’s direction before walking out of the room. A few moments later Willow heard the front door slam with a resounding crash that echoed throughout the house. Willow stared at nothing in particular for a few moments before she felt her legs begin to give way beneath her. Numbly, she sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the wall. Everything had always been so easy…so simple.



She had changed. The Willow who had everything handed to her on a plate, who could lie or bat her eyelids and escape punishment for something that she knew she had done wrong. Or the Willow who flirted shamelessly with boys for the sake of it, always promising and never delivering…yet still expecting them to follow after her like little puppy dogs. That Willow was gone…



Had she ever really been that person?



Willow felt her eyes sting as her peaceful little world started to crumble around her. In the face of Buffy’s refusal to accept her relationship with Tara, Willow had the crushing realisation that everything was from now on would change. Her best friend couldn’t accept it, how could she expect anyone else in New York to?



Willow dashed the tears away with the back of her hand, trying to convince herself she didn’t care what any of them thought. Yet there was a part of her that did care, so much so that she wondered if she could ever be truly happy if she turned her back on everything she knew.





TBC in Chapter Twenty – “For the Family Good.



*****

“It’s just my imagination. Some people have flat feet. Some people have dandruff. I have this appalling imagination…”

The Seven Year Itch.

Edited by: KiwiAlcyone  at: 3/11/04 5:48 am

[KiwiAlcyone]

Tempest Duer, yes of course...I was just being polite because I'm a very polite person



Yes, Mr Maclay and Donny are heartless, worthless skunks and remain very much so in my fic. I will spent a good amount of time thinking of a way for them to get their just desserts in the end.



Updates almost done, I swear!



-Alcy

“It’s just my imagination. Some people have flat feet. Some people have dandruff. I have this appalling imagination…”

The Seven Year Itch.

[amberbensontotallyrules4e]

OMG!!!!

Poor Willow, she's right, if her best friend can't accept her lovem, then how can she expect anyone else to! What kind of friend does Buffy think she is. Grrrrrrrr.

On the other hand, oh so nice smoochies.

More soon, please

Rachel

*****************************************************************

"Baby have you got to go away? Don't think I can take the pain. Won't you stay another day...?"~ East 17, sad but true

[barnabasvamp]

*Yipes*

Very interesting twist to the story. Poor Willow, her best friend won't support her.



Cute the way Tara was able to sweet talk Willow's mom into liking her!!



BV

It's the passion in a kiss that gives to it its sweetness; it is the affection in a kiss that sanctifies it.

[blue and green wings]

let me just say, i love this fic! i've read all of it thus far and it keeps getting better and better. keep going!

[Tempest Duer]

Poor Willow... first she has to have tea with her mother, then Buffy flips out... but she has Tara, so everything's going to be all right.



Oh, and Alcy, I know you're very polite. But I was expressive without being really rude.

Willow: Hey Buff. One more thing. Buffy: Yeah? Willow: I’m gay. Buffy: Okay, Will. Xander owes me ten bucks.

~Remember to Breathe by Yellow Crayon

[4WiccanLuv]

Nice save by Willow telling her Mom that they were dancing. Ya know, I heard Frankie Avalon's "Venus" in the background throughout the entire smooching scene. Thanks for that...me like.



Ack...Buffy! I'm sure she'll come to her senses and realize Willow is still Willow, regardless of who she loves.



Oh and poor Willow, suddenly feelin' like the world is closing in on her. Hopefully Tara can help her through it.



Great update, keep it coming!

"Those are my principles. If you don't like them I have others." - Groucho Marx

[hermitstull]

Holy Cow!



This fic has pulled me out of my semi-lurker status to praise such great writing! I've just spent the last few hours reading what's up so far and it's awesome. The pictures you paint with words, man, I can totally see Willow and Tara in all of the situations you've put them in. It's been a long time since I've been this excited to read a fan fic. I can't wait for the next installment!



Whew! Thanks and keep up the great stuff!



hermitstull

"I was feared and worshiped across the mortal globe. At now I'm stuck at Sunnydale High. Mortal. Child. And I'm failing Math." Anya in Dopplegangland

[JustSkipIt]

Hey there,

Well first thing: thanks for the update. Very well done.

Second thing: I don't like the tone of the next title. Sounds very much like Willow & Tara breaking up for Willow's family image or Willow going out with that bore that her parents want to set her up with.

I'm not particularly surprised about Buffy's reaction. I think it would be typical for the time and their social situation. But I also think that if she takes some time to think about it, she will calm down.

Also, Tara seemed to do great with Sheila. Much better than I would do, I'm sure.

Great update. Debra

---

"Your little will can't do anything. It takes Great Determination. Great Determination doesn't mean just you making an effort. It means the whole universe is behind you and with you - the birds, trees, sky, moon, and ten directions." - Katagiri Roshi

[KiwiAlcyone]

amber: Buffy’s freak out is made all the more understandable when you remember that it is the fifties. For young women of Willow’s and Buffy’s class, homosexuality would be viewed with hostility that one often has when one doesn’t understand something. I don’t want to give away what happens on this point so I won’t…you’ll have to keep reading…

barnabasvamp: While it would have been wonderful if Buffy had accepted Willow’s relationship with Tara, I wanted to explore the difficulties that people have with it a little more fully. Being that she is Willow’s best friend, it seemed more fitting to do it from her point of view than anyone elses.

And I think Tara could sweet talk most people into liking her.

blue and green wings: I’m really glad you’re enjoying what I’ve done so far. I sure will keep going because I’m having as much fun writing as you are reading…maybe not quite as much, because I know what’s going to happen and I hate it when the surprise is spoiled.

Tempest Duer: I love having tea with my mother…but thank goodness she isn’t anything like Sheila! And I’m glad you’ve got your rose coloured glasses on…whatever happens, Willow does have Tara.

4WiccanLuv: Yup, nice romantic music…nice W/T smoochies, I’m glad you liked it! Don’t worry, if there’s anyone that can help Willow at this point, it’s Tara.

hermitstull: I don’t envy you in having to catch up all at once, I’m flattered you could keep reading my stuff for a few hours! Thanks so very much for your praise and I promise it’s not long till the next bit.

JustSkipit: Thanks!

I cringed when writing the title but it sums up perfectly how Willow’s mother in particular views the upcoming events and exactly what she thinks of Willow’s role in the family and in society should be.

I had Buffy react the way she did for the reasons explained above and all will definitely be resolved in time, although this particular story line didn’t quite fit in the next few chapters so hopefully the wait won’t be too long.



Chapter 20 is curently undergoing revision, almost done.



-Alcy

“It’s just my imagination. Some people have flat feet. Some people have dandruff. I have this appalling imagination…”

The Seven Year Itch.

[KiwiAlcyone]

Chapter Twenty – “For the Family Good.





Willow was sitting eating breakfast the following Friday, grateful for the end of what had not been a good week in Willow-world. A whole week had passed and she had not so much as seen a single glimpse of Tara. Her girlfriend had been working at Giles’ store while she had spent the week helping her mother with her various charitable ladies groups. Not that she didn’t enjoy working with people, it was just that she missed Tara.



For the whole week she had the uncomfortable feeling that she was living her mother’s life rather than her own. Her mind had wandered often as she sat at afternoon tea with her mother’s friends or listened as an endless succession of ladies delivered reports on the amount of funds raised for various charities. Accompanying her daydreams of Tara were even more far-fetched ones of enrolling at NYU when the next semester began in a few weeks. Willow wasn’t quite sure which idea her parents would find more detestable, the fact that she was gay…or the fact that she wanted a college degree.



She poked absently at her muesli, picking out the pieces of dried apricot and not really interested in eating the remainder. Glancing around at the pots and pans suspended from racks and smelling something delicious simmering away on the stove, Willow knew she preferring to eat in the kitchen rather than in the overly stuffy dining room. The huge dining table which could seat twenty people made her look small and insignificant. It was enough to by made to feel that way by her parents without actually having to have it played out for real. As she was toying with the idea of sending a raisin flying across the room with her spoon, Joe wandered into the kitchen, an empty tray in his hand.



“It’s a bit late to be having breakfast isn’t it?” he asked, glancing up at the clock on the wall.



Willow shrugged, she hadn’t felt much like getting out of bed all week…Tara was at work during the day, getting up early only increased the chances of being dragged off to another meeting by her mother. If she had to listen to one more old biddy tell her the line every young women hated hearing…



“I was married at your age…”



…Willow was worried she would grab the handbag of the aforementioned biddy and hit her over the head with it.



“Any exciting plans for today?” Joe saw her glum expression and tried to cheer her up with a smile of his own.



He really was very cute when he smiled, Willows absent musings lifted her spirits a little.



“Not really…although…I thought I might catch a taxi to Greenwich village, there’s a few bookstores I want to visit,” the plan only just passed through Willow’s mind and she grinned happily, it was a daring plan…no, it was an ingenious plan! She would surprise Tara at work…maybe buy her lunch.



Joe raised his eyebrows, “Shopping for books…shouldn’t you be looking for a new pair of shoes for tonight?”



If any other person had said that, Willow would have huffed indignantly. The way Joe said it made her giggle…that is, until the ‘tonight’ part of the sentence caused her to frown.



“Tonight? Joe, do you know something I don’t?”



“It’s the party at the Mayor’s tonight, you know, the ‘big social event of the year’, all of society being there and so on and so forth. I thought you would have known Willow…your mother does tend to remind you of these things at least half a dozen times before the actual event.”



“Well, it’s too make sure that I take time to choose my outfit carefully so she can show me off,” Willow replied straightforwardly, “To her best advantage…not mine…and yeah, she told me but I did forget. I think I have must have more important things on my mind at the moment.”



Like Tara…and Buffy flipping out…and Tara…how on earth I’m going to tell my parents that I’m gay…and Tara, okay, how much more important is Tara than a stupid, stuffy party?



“But you’re going right?” Joe asked, confused at Willow’s manner, “You love parties.”



Willow groaned and set her spoon down in her bowl with a thunk, “It’s a night where everyone can say ‘look at me, look at me!’ I can read the write-up in the society column now, so and so was wearing the latest Givenchy or Dior, Mr and Mrs Proud Parent used the occasion to announced the engagement of John and Jane and so and so was conspicuous in their absence…”



“Okay, you used to love parties…” Joe saw the look that had fixed itself onto Willow’s face, “You’re not thinking of skipping out are you?”



“That’s exactly what I’m thinking!” Willow jumped up from her seat, as she rinsed out her bowl in the sink she continued, “Okay Joe, now if my parents get home before I do…’



“Willow,” Joe interrupted, “You know I like you a lot…but I’m not lying for you.”



“I’m not asking you to, just, if you see them…tell them I’m sick.”



“You’re not sick.”



Willow held up her finger where she had the tiniest of cuts from helping Sam the gardener prune the roses the day before, “See, wounded…hence sick…aw, c’mon Joe!”



“I’m not making any promises Willow, just try and be back before they are…” Joe waved a cautioning finger in her direction, “Your father is out playing golf which means he won’t be home until at least four o’clock or maybe later if he wins. In which case he will arrive home smelling of cigars and brandy just in time to be scolded by Mrs Rosenberg for making her late to the party. Your mother will be home a little earlier…maybe three or so but will be so rapt up in deciding what she is going to wear tonight…you know, changing her outfit a half a dozen times…that she won’t think about harassing you until at least five.”



Willow grinned, “Got it…see you later Joe…places to be…books to buy…” Girlfriends to surprise…



*****



Tara tapped the pencil absently against her chin and glanced at the books in front of her again. She’d already gone over the books twice, each sum was correct, everything was perfectly balanced…and she was bored silly. It was a beautiful day, far too bright and sunny for people to want to go shopping for books so there had been a grand total of four customers all day long. Only two of them had actually made a purchase.



She glanced around the shop, each shelf of books perfectly aligned, every counter top free of dust…even the window panes at the front of the store were sparkling. Tara lifted herself out of the chair to which she felt like she had become permanently attached and wandered to the sliding ladder used to reach the upper shelves of books. She grinned and looked to the door which was still closed, not looking as though it was going to see the arrival of customers anytime soon. Setting one foot on the lowest rung, she pushed off with the other and sent herself flying along the stacks. With a slight jolt it stopped at the other end. Tara looked back the other way and thought why the heck not…the bell above the door jingled as she was half way through her slide. Tara yelped in fright and when the ladder hit the end she fell off in a most ungraceful manner, hitting the floor hard. She felt her face burn with embarrassment as she gingerly turned her head to see if the customer was about to make a quick exit after observing the shop assistant make a complete fool out of herself. Someone came at her in a flurry of limbs, sliding to a halt and kneeling at her side. Tara looked at the new arrival to see Willow with a worried frown on her face.



“Tara, are you okay?” Willow helped Tara to her feet, an arm around her back comfortingly.



“I’m fine…I think the only thing I really injured was my pride…it’s definitely all purple and bruised at the moment,” Tara grinned slightly and smoothed her skirt down as Willow spun her around so they were face to face.



“Aw baby,” Willow drew her close so their hips were pressed together, she planted a small kiss on Tara’s forehead, “That make it better?”



“It helps some,” Tara replied, pressing her forehead to Willows, now grinning from ear to ear.



With the desire to make it completely better, Willow pressed her lips to Tara’s in a soft, feather light kiss, sighing as she tasted the moist, full lips that she loved so much. She pulled back but kept her body pressed tightly against Tara’s, hands caressing her back tenderly.



“So, what brings you to this part of town Miss Rosenberg…surely not shopping for books?” Tara teased.



“Hey, I read! But no…I have to confess and admit that I had something far more devious in mind…and I even came prepared…”



Willow slipped out of Tara’s arms and ran back to gather up something lying near the front door of the store. She presented Tara with a gorgeous bunch of blazing orange and yellow tigerlillies, one side slightly squashed.



“Um…I kinda dropped them when I thought you might have hurt yourself falling off the ladder,” Willow tried in vain to make one particularly broken bloom stand up straight again before giving up and handing the bunch to Tara with red cheeks.



Tara accepted the flowers with a deep sigh straight from the heart, she looked into Willow’s eyes with her own glistening slightly, “No one has ever given me flowers before…”



“That’s because they knew that honour was mine…I’m sorry you had to wait eighteen years though,” Willow felt her own eyes start to sting and she quickly moved onto the next surprise, holding up the brown bag that she had been holding in her other hand, “And look! It’s two for the price of one day at Willow’s emporium of love…lunch! I hope you like chicken sandwiches…I’m afraid I’m not such a great cook but I did want to make it all myself.”



“My favourite,” Tara replied honestly.



*****



Willow brushed the last few crumbs of chocolate cake from her chest as she was perched in one of the armchairs spread throughout the shop for patrons to sit in while they browsed through a book. She had great fun making playfully suggestive eyes at Tara who was sitting behind the counter in case of the unlikely event that a customer would actually come into the shop. Both girls knew full well that if they sat any closer together they were in danger of being caught in the midst of a passionate make out session.



Still, it was nice…Willow felt a whole world away from her parents and the hurtful reply Buffy had given her upon learning of her relationship with Tara. It would have remained peaceful if Willow had not been struggling with the need to tell Tara, to be able to share her problems with one person at least. She wanted to be able to tell Tara and yet she had the dreadful thought that it might ruin their afternoon together. Ignoring the guilt pangs running through her gut, Willow elected not to tell her. She managed to make herself feel a little better with the firm decision that she would tell her eventually…just not at that moment.



“I’m waitressing tonight,” Tara admitted as she too polished off the last of her cake, washing it down with a sip of soda, it sounded as though she had been reluctant to tell Willow about it for fear of ruining a possible evening together.



“Where exactly,” Willow had a sneaking suspicion she already knew.



“The Mayor’s…” Tara began but was interrupted by an excited Willow.



“Me too! I mean…not waitressing but I’m going to be there too. I was planning to be sick but now that you’ll be there…I’m so going to be there!”



“Just like the second time we meet…with the shrimp…”



Willow and Tara laughed at the memory of the infamous pastries.



“I hate shrimp!” they both said in unison and then fell into further fits of laughter.



“Okay…no serving shrimp,” Tara announced firmly.



Willow glanced at her watch and her eyes goggled at the time. How on earth could time pass so quickly? Then she looked across at the gorgeous blonde and smiled…of course time would pass quickly when they were together, that was always the way it worked. She made mental calculations in her head…forty-five minutes to shower and wash her hair, half an hour to get dressed in her outfit…



“An outfit!” Willow exclaimed aloud, she hadn’t even picked one yet and that was always the most time consuming of tasks…an hour at least, “Tara, I really have to get going.”



“Of c-course,” Tara replied, a little startled at the abruptness of it all, “I’ll see you tonight then.”



“Count on it baby,” Willow grinned as she planted a kiss on Tara’s forehead and hurried out the door to hail a cab.



As she waited, Willow bounced on her heels and knew she was going to go all out to look amazing tonight…not for her mother or for any young bachelors at the party…for Tara.



*****



Willow checked her reflection in the foyer mirror as the Mayor greeted her parents with a huge fake smile and pleasantries that sounded entirely empty to her ears. She patted her hair gently. Nancy, one of the maids, had exclaimed in delight when Willow had asked her to help her put it up in the most flattering style she could think of. Together they had created the perfect arrangement of curls carefully piled at the back of her head, leaving several strands to fall down around her face.



Satisfied her hair could be no more perfect, Willow’s eyes moved down to the dress that covered her lithe frame. It was strapless, the bodice hugging her bosom tightly and revealing creamy white shoulders…flattering without being outrageously inappropriate. Her slim waist was highlighted by a thin white belt. The skirt then fell away from her waist in full, gathered folds that ended a few inches from the floor. The dress itself was white silk over which organza had been laid and embroidered with a pattern of green flowering grasses and wild clover. Although you could barely see the toes peeking out from beneath her dress, she’d chosen cute white shoes…not dancing shoes but not so high heeled as to make dancing completely out of the question.



Willow clutched her small purse in white gloved hands as she moved through to the ballroom, nodding politely to people who greeted her. She moved past school chums or the other young people she usually would have gravitated towards, scanning the throng anxiously for just one person…



Willow was so caught up searching for Tara that she did not notice almost every head in the room turn when she walked past.



As Willow stood poised on tip-toes to try and see over the heads of the people milling around her, Sheila bowled up to her with all the finesse of a freight train and grabbed her elbow as she steered her off to one side of the room. Willow looked at the smile on her mothers face and felt a little sick to her stomach…the cat had definitely been in the cream again.



“Now Willow honey…I took the liberty of picking up your dance card for you,” Sheila looped the ribbon around Willow’s wrist for her, not noticing the look of distaste on her daughter’s face.



Willow ran her hands over the gilt lettering on the front and absently flipped it open. Her eyes widened when she saw every single dance already had a name written next to it. It was the same name written over and over in over-embellished, loopy letters …



Hugh Carrington



“Mother!” Willow exclaimed, looking in horror at her card.



Sheila patted her wrist to sooth what she mistook as fright in Willow’s voice, “He begged me to put him down for a few dances and I saw it as the perfect opportunity…I said ‘Hugh dear, Willow would only be too happy to reserve all the dances for you,’ and you should have seen the young man’s face…he was beaming!”



“I’m sure,” Willow replied in a monotone, when a young lady had her dance card filled with just one name she might as well be announcing that she was engaged…or as good as.



“Now, your father is hoping to sign the final papers that will secure the company merger with Carrington Industries on Monday,” her mother whispered as though she were sharing a national secret.



Willow sighed, her mother might as well have told her to let Hugh kiss her if she thought it would ensure the merger would successfully go ahead. Sheila spied Hugh across the room and waved him over. The young man was attired in a dapper tailed jacket and had a single red rose tucked in his pocket. As soon as he reached them he nodded his head politely to Mrs Rosenberg before lavishing what he obviously considered to be the full force of his winning charm on Willow.



He smoothly withdrew the rose from his pocket and handed it to Willow with a flourish, “It doesn’t do any justice to your beauty of course.”



Willow took it gingerly and smiled her thanks as she resisted the urge to screw her up her nose in distaste. It wasn’t that he was unpleasant to look at…it was just that he managed to give her the creeps before he opened his mouth. Whenever he did say something in that smooth voice of his, it made her want to cringe.



Her mother excused herself with a last wink in Willow’s direction before Hugh swept her onto the dance floor for the first waltz. The music began triumphantly, Hugh held her hand tightly and placed the other in the small of her back. Willow felt her shoes start to chafe before they had even started moving and knew it was going to be a very long night.



*****



Tara grinned as she picked up the tray with fried pieces of chicken skewered with pineapple on little cocktail sticks. Much better than shrimp pastries. Checking that her black dress and white apron was perfect, she moved out of the kitchen towards the ballroom with a group of other waitresses with trays of their own. They gossiped excitedly amongst themselves in the short distance and Tara feigned an interest while her heart started to thump faster at the thought of seeing Willow.



“Did you see Hugh Carrington come in earlier?” one girl asked another in an awed voice, several others latched onto the conversation enthusiastically.



“Yes, wasn’t he gorgeous!” they moved into view of the dance floor, “Oh, there he is dancing…he could be a movie star you know.”



“Who’s that dancing with him?”



“Whoever she is…she’s a doll, not a chance of competing with that girls.”



“That’s Willow Rosenberg, the gossip is that they’re going to be engaged, something about a merger with their father’s companies,” another girl added, pleased that she had vital information to share.



“Tara?” one of the girls noticed the blonde had gone chalk white, “Are you feeling alright?”



Tara was gazing at a tableau frozen before her eyes. The ballroom was crowded…men wearing black and white tuxedos…beautiful society ladies attired in the most glamorous creations by famous designers. At the very heart of it all…her beautiful dress ensuring she would never fade into the background, was Willow. Breathtakingly beautiful as she was being swung around in the arms of the man Tara now knew to be Hugh Carrington.



“W-what?” Tara stuttered as one of the girls touched her lightly on the arm, “I’m f-fine…just fine.”



“I think someone has a crush on Master Carrington!” one of the girls giggled, “She’s even gone red.”



For once Tara was grateful for the tightly packed throngs of people as she was swept away from the other girls and into the world where people didn’t notice her. She just wanted to get rid of the food on her tray so she could escape the ballroom which had suddenly turned into a stifling sauna. She bit her lip and tried to stop her eyes from drifting to the middle of the dance floor…





TBC in Chapter Twenty-one – “The Waitress, the Doll and the Broomstick Closet.”



*****

“It’s just my imagination. Some people have flat feet. Some people have dandruff. I have this appalling imagination…”

The Seven Year Itch.

Edited by: KiwiAlcyone  at: 3/13/04 4:20 am