Equilibration (Trek uberfic -- UPDATED 8/2/04)

[CaptMurdock]

Hi, gang. I must apologize for the lack of updates to the story. You already read about how I lost a chunk of text to a corrupted floppy disk I just haven't had much free time lately, and when I do have some, my muse seems to be on vacation.



However, I am going to make a concerted effort this week to get in gear. You all have been patient beyond the call of duty, and I must reward you.



On another note: nobody has correctly guessed the connection (albeit indirect) between The Lovely Amber and the song "That's Amore." Well, dig out your tapes of Bye Bye Love, wherein Amber appears as Randy Quaid's daughter. RQ goes out on a date with Janine Garafolo, with Hilarious Results. In one of the scenes in an Italian restaurant, where she can't decide what she wants for dinner, "That's Amore" is playing on the soundtrack.



I'll be back here soon, kids. Be good.

_________________



"Honey, in case you didn't hear me the first six thousand times: no more teleportation spells."

[saule77]

Darn, I knew that...

And hilarious it surely is...



Humbly looking forward to your next offering, Captain...

"You are Willow Rosenberg, vixen-y lighter of the flame and keeper of my heart."

(Camp Flutie by Rane)

[27Shadow]

Shadow enters the room slightly out of breath.



Please write fast .... I'm hanging on the edge of my seat over a perilous cliff and the bolts are coming loose.



On another note ... you have an art for writing the characters! Cannot wait patiently for the next installment ... mainly because I lack patience ......



Shadow grabs her drink ... which she did order ... and runs back to that mythical cliff she was hanging around on

[CaptMurdock]

All the usual disclaimers and notes from previous chapters. I just don't feel like regurgitating them now. Haven't you waited long enough?





Chapter 6



S.S. Admiral Byrd

Jenolan-class transport (modified)

Approaching planetoid designated ‘Memory Alpha’



“There…we’re in sensor range,” said Jonathon, pointed to the navigation display on the console between himself and Warren. The other man, sitting in the ops position, nodded.



“What about the other ships?” the Maquis leader asked.



Jonathon shook his head. “We won’t be able to detect the B’hala or the Peregrine till we drop out of warp. They’re coming in from the far side of the system’s primary.”



Faith came into the cockpit area of the transport. “Are we there yet?” she mock-whined, sounding like a toddler on a family vacation.



“Almost, almost,” Jonathon answered placatingly.



“Hope so,” replied the female mercenary. “I’m gettin’ all itchy.” Her hips shifted back and forth, making her leather pants creak sensuously.



Warren quirked an eyebrow and turned his head slightly back towards her. “Faith, I’m surprised at you; I thought you used protection from that sort of ailment. Besides, there are creams available for you.” Jonathon tittered at the witticism.



Faith smirked as she laid her hand on Warren’s shoulder. “Well, buddy-boy, at least I –“ she paused as her grip tightened excruciatingly, “get some. You couldn’t catch a venereal disease if you mail-ordered it.”



Warren’s face reddened, more from the discomfort centered on his abused shoulder than Faith’s nasty crack. Spinning the chair around, he suddenly brought his arm up and back, breaking Faith’s grip – though not without effort. He stood up aggressively, prompting Faith to adopt – half-heartedly – a defensive posture.



Jonathon rolled his eyes. “Am I gonna have to separate you two?” he muttered, sneering at his erstwhile colleagues.



Warren and Faith both glanced at Jonathan disdainfully, then back at one another. He took a half-step forward, dangerously within her swinging range, and growled, “Just get your team ready.” Faith stood still for a moment beyond obedience or even politeness, then pursed her lips and exited the cockpit, shaking her head. Warren blew out his breath, secretly glad that she had backed off, and dropped back into his seat. “ETA?” he asked.



“Three minutes.”



*******



"When the moon hits your eye…like you've had too much wine…that's amoré…" Willow sang, giggling, while she and Tara staggered down the corridor, thankfully deserted at this time of day/night. Gamma Shift was just coming on duty, Beta shift just coming off, and Alpha shift's day, like Willow's and Tara's, was drawing to a close.



"Shhhhhh," Tara admonished her, while trying to keep from slamming herself into a bulkhead. She held onto Willow's arm, ostensibly to support her but ultimately to keep her own balance. She really didn't have much experience being intoxicated; she felt as if her brain was being slowly pulled apart by a rude taffy machine.



"I think this is it," Willow announced, stopping by a set of double-pocket doors. She reached out with her index finger, none too steadily, towards the control pad next to the door. Her touch, at first unsteady and more insistent, failed to make the doors open. "What the hell is wrong with this thing?"



"Let me try." The blonde counselor touched the button, and was surprised when the doors parted in front of them. "Oh! There we are."



The two of them stumbled into the quarters, which automatically brightened as the computer sensed the new occupants. The doors slid shut as they cleared the threshold. Willow looked around the room, her brow scrunching in confusion. "I thought you were taking me to my quarters," she asked dazedly.



"I was," Tara answered. She then looked around at her surroundings and finding them awfully familiar. "So why are we in my quarters?" She lopsidedly smiled, apologetically. "Oops."



Willow waved it off. "Aww, that's alright. I know what my quarters look like. Not as cool as this, though. I mean, windows!" She indicated the viewports, through which long rainbow streaks of stars, distorted by warp speed, streamed past. "I don't have windows," Willow mock-pouted.



"Your quarters are, uh, on the inside of the ship. As, um, opposed to…the…outside," Tara finished, aware that she was not making terribly much sense. “I, uh, I think I-I’m drunk. God, am I going to pay for this in the morning!” she said, giggling.



Willow smiled. “I think I can fix that. I just have to go to my quarters to get something from my…repulcator,” she finished uncertainly.



Tara nodded. “O-or, you could use my ‘repulcator.’”



The redheaded science officer smacked herself in the forehead, the impact sounding like a pistol shot. “Well, of course! And, ow.” Wincing and rubbing her forehead, she walked over to the replicator terminal on the bulkhead. “Computer, give me some aspirin, please.”



“That item is not in the database,” the computer voice replied.



“Oh, what is with this century? Uh, computer, see if, uh, aceto-…uh, acetocycli-…acetometacyl-… Aaaargh!”



Tara crossed over to her. "Are you looking for some kind of painkiller?” At Willow’s weary nod, she addressed the terminal. “Computer, isometiphan, eight hundred milligrams…and two glasses of water.”



"Please specify temperature” the computer asked, a note of smugness sneaking in somehow or other.



Willow huffed, and even the eternally patient Tara rolled her eyes. “Five degrees Celsius,” the counselor replied, slightly testy. The terminal lit up, and with a bright swirling pattern of light, two clear glasses and a small cup with two tablets materialized. She handed one glass to Willow, took one herself and passed out the painkiller. After knocking the glasses together in a brief toast, the two women downed the pills with a swig of water.



Willow set her glass back in the replicator terminal. “One thing I learned on shore leave on Argelius: during an encounter with the Demon Alcohol, take some aspirin to forestall the inevitable hangover.”



Tara dimpled, impressed. “You’re, like, Cool Revelry Expert.”



Willow shook her head, and immediately regretted doing so, as it gave her double vision. “Uh, no, not really. Mostly I learned this from Buffy. That time on Argelius, I spent most of the last night in the bathroom, uh…”



“Praying to the Porcelian Goddess?”



Willow wrinkled her nose at the rather gross image. “And on that note…” she said, heading toward the vanity/divider, and beyond, the head.



“Oh, I’m s-sorry!” Tara said, blanching. “I didn’t mean, um, to make you—“



“No no no,” Willow cut her off. “I just gotta, y’know, do the normal thing you do in there.” Tara sighed in relief, then moved off to sit on the couch lining the bulkhead next to the viewport. She tried to look at the streaks of light flying past, but in her inebriated state they tended to give her motion sickness, so she had to stop. She then lay back, closing her eyes. The hour was getting late; although she was somewhat of a natural night-owl, she knew she should get to sleep soon.



A minute later, Willow’s voice came out of the head. “How did you rate a bathtub?”



Tara smiled, a little guiltily, and walked across her room to the head. She peeked in carefully, to make sure Willow was decent; seeing that she was dressed and standing by the tub, hands on hips, Tara went in.



“Do you know how-- I’d’a killed for a bathtub on the old Hannibal! Not literally,” she added unnecessarily.



“It kinda came with the quarters. You can requisition a cabin refit, but I think you have to wait about six months after you’ve been assigned to a ship, and then there’s the inevitable red tape…” Tara shrugged.



Willow deflated. “Well, I’m jealous of you. Jealous, jealous…” She straightened up and brightened. “Okay, I’m back. Maybe I can borrow your tub sometime.”



A thought came through the alcohol-twisted synapses of Tara’s mind before she could think to suppress it. “Would you like to try it out?”



Willow’s jaw dropped in amazement. “What – you mean, like, now?” Before Tara could demure and say that Willow could do so at her convenience (such as, when Tara was elsewhere), Willow continued with, “Well, why the hell not? I’m not doing anything else right now…am I?”



Tara shook her head (carefully!). “N-not that I know of. I mean, no p-pressure or anything. But, um, I can tell you from experience…it’s great.” She moved past Willow to work the bath controls; very soon a jet of steamy water was rushing to fill the tub. Tara added some fragrant liquids from a couple of bottles on a small shelf. “This will make it smell really nice. Alright, I’ll get out of your w-w-w—“



While Tara had made the bath preparations, Willow had, naturally, quietly removed her clothes. Tara had turned from the tub to find her standing there completely naked, completely unselfconscious, mainly due to being completely buzzed.



Oh, so that’s the program, Tara thought, while a strained smile answered Willow’s. Warm bath for her, cold shower for me…and my big mouth.



**********



Elsewhere on the Hannibal, the senior officers prepared to retire for the night.



Commander Oliva Faraday finished the message that she prepared twice a week for her children, as well as the private, more intimate one for her husband, and sent them off. She regretted that real-time communication was not always available.



Lt. Thelvran finished a similar communiqué to his parents and his twenty-two siblings before going to bed.



Dr. Govarr was already asleep, the stentorian quality of his snores having long ago necessitating extra soundproofing around his quarters for the benefits of his neighbors.



Jodell DaKar and Gelfa Kolrami had spent a couple enjoyable hours conversing before retiring to their respective quarters.



Dr. Charles Devereux reposed on his reclining armchair, made in Trenton, North America, still dressed in his civilian tunic and trousers, a half-empty glass resting next to the picture of his long-departed wife.



Captain Ulysses Samuel Murdock listened to one of his favorite ancient composers, Elton John, before swallowing several isometiphan tablets (he, too, knew of that hangover preventative) and resigning himself to sleep. Please, he silently entreated, as if someone could listen and grant his wish. No dreams, no nightmares, no memories. Let me be for the night.



Sighing, he lay down upon his bed; but unlike Alexander, knowing that he had more worlds to conquer, that he should not die.

[AntigoneUnbound]

Hey Cap'n~~I was so glad to see an update, especially since I knew that our girls would be a little tipsy and therefore (perhaps) less guarded with each other. And the minute Willow mentioned the tub, I became very, very interested in Tara's bathroom fixtures.



What's wonderful and clever about that, though, is that you don't broadcast this "Potentially Erotic Moment" from three miles away. You have Willow going into the bathroom for the most inocuous of reasons, while we linger in Tara's POV, and then suddenly--oh, my, look at the possibilities!



I love the cadence and the symmetry of your language, too. I so enjoyed the description of Willow being completely naked, completely unselfconscious, by virtue of being completely buzzed.



Welcome back, Captain Murdock. Antigone here: fully alert and ready for duty!



Mary

[Grimlock72]

Seems like Tara has decided Willow really should live in her (Tara's) appartment How the subconsious plays tricks on you once you're properly drunk. Tara being part betazoid doesn't help with handling alchohol either



I hope Willow won't fall asleep in the warm bath. Poor Tara would have to get her out all be herself then, which would be such a shame *cough* : --> .



The only part I'm still not clear about is this 'Memory Alpha' thingie. Obviously Warren inc. are up to something bad, but I can't imagine what it would be at this moment. Probably because 'Memory Alpha' doesn't ring a bell with me.



Grimmy

"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

[xita]

what's going on with the cap? hmm



Oh and Tara is in so much trouble now Poor thing , or rather lucky, has to stand there staring at Willow naked. Willow is so not aware of what's going on between them, it's almost funny.

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

En un mundo de ilusión yo estaba desahuciado, yo estaba abandonado.

Vivía sin sentido, pero llegaste tú. -
Mana

[justin]

I was .



So what's this Memory Alpha thing? It sounds vaguely familiar, but I might be thinking of something else. Also whats up with the captain?

I understand, you should be with the person you l-love


I am

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



Just where is a bathed and sleepy Willow going to fall over? And how much cold water is Tara going to need in the next few hours?



Faith and Warren are back with Jonathon in tow. Yay? No, probably not.



Thank you Capt,



Jixer

[Willster]

I just read from the beginning today! I gotta say i'm a star trek fan and I also love W/T so this is heaven!



Great fic and I cannot wait to see what's coming on next with the bath!!

[TemperedCynic]

Lots of fun possibilities here - tub and naked Willow seem to point to erotic encounters. However, I've read some of your other fics, Captain, and your writing style loves to veer from the obvious in fun, witty and creative ways. Please update soon - post-buzz W/T should be even more entertaining. But that won't last long, since the action/drama portion of this story is fast approaching...

---

More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly. Woody Allen (1935 - )

[WebWarlock]

Wow, what a fun update!



Somehow I get the feeling that Willow will be seeing less and less of her quarters.



Memory Alpha is a planetoid which holds the collected knowledge of all the species in the United Federation of Planets. It was completed in 2269 (Willow got lost in 2280, Tara lives in 2372).



So yeah it is a big, important place.



I think I have U.S. Murdock figured out (well some parts anyway). Shades of Flint perhaps?



Great stuff and always looking for more.



Warlock

-----

Web Warlock

The Other Side,
home of Liber Mysterium: The Netbook of Witches and Warlocks

"It was so dumb." - Amber Benson on the death of Tara.

[pinkzippy999]

Brillant!!

Loving it!!

More Soon???

[shuyaku]

CaptMurdock-



As a huge Star Trek fan, I am enjoying this fic immensely. I mean Star Trek and naked Willow in the same fic (and hopefully some naked Tara soon too!) you just can't go wrong



-shuyaku

Edited by: shuyaku at: 3/11/03 10:51:04 am

[Kalita]

You know it's been a busy week at work when you miss a fic update like this.



Druknenness + Nakedness + uh... Tubbiness... = a very good next part, I hope.



Can't wait!

"...not many people understood the karmic value of grilled cheese."

-Tara, Blue Athame's Angels and Goddesses

[frumpycat]

Cool stuff. I'm not a big Star Trek fan so I am unfamiliar with many of the characters in your story but its really well written. Love the W/T stuff....I also loved Willow's overachieving on the tests...just like old Willow..sigh....



Frumpycat

[JassyBear77]

Hi i just want to let you know that you're a god,Captmurdock. I love your fic. It's one of the best fics i read in my long life as FanFiction-addict. Well not addict because it's bad to be addicted to something but i guess you get my point.

I'm a big fan of Star trek too and so it's logic that your idea to bring Willow and Tara in the timeline of the federation have a big appeal to me. I'm rather fond of your other fics, but this is your best and i hope the continuation will be there in no time

[CaptMurdock]

Disclaimers: Second verse, same as the first. I really don't feel like regurgitating them again.



******



Tara excused herself briefly from the head, ostensibly to place her formal outfit (and Willow’s discarded clothes) in the autovalet to be cleaned, but mainly to regain her composure after seeing Willow stark naked. Ohhhhhhh my God omigodomigodomigod. The impromptu strip-tease that Willow had given Tara (yesterday? she wondered) was only, as it turned out, the matinee preview to the main attraction this evening. Tara discovered to her delight that Willow Rosenberg was indeed freckled all over. As to the question of her being a natural redhead…suffice it to say, that too was no longer in doubt.



Stripping down to her underwear allowed some of the heat that Tara felt was radiating from her to escape. Probably set off the fire alarm. Gee, I’ve always wanted to entertain a large group in my quarters…



A few meters away, Willow reclined in the bathtub surrounded by a billion bubbles that nearly topped her chin. The warm water, combined with her already alchohol-impaired state, threatened to be a better sleep-inducer than phaser-stun. She stretched her legs across the tub, feeling more relaxed than she had in, well, a century. Being trapped ninety years out of my own time is rough, she thought, with far more good humor than she would have thought possible mere days ago, but I’ll just have to survive somehow, she concluded, reaching for a handy bath-sponge.



Had her faculties been fully hers, she would have been astonished at herself for undressing in front of Tara. Most of the rationale, if one could call it that, was buried in psychic places that her conscious mind usually feared to tread. She knew only that she had wanted to shock her shy new friend, prod Tara out of the bubble of isolation that she kept around herself like a deflector shield. Willow found it interesting that a woman whose job it was to interact with people on a personal level was so secluded.



She wondered what Captain Cumberland would have made of her. He had an uncanny knack for judging people, claiming that he could read body language as easily as the printed word. Willow had seen nothing to dispute this; at least where most humanoids were concerned, Cumberland could almost always tell if someone was telling him the truth, or if they were about to make an aggressive move. Hell, even Buffy, trained from childhood in martial arts, could barely lay a hand on him during informal workouts in the Hannibal’s gym. Rumor had it that he had actually dodged phaser beams at close range.



Willow had not had the stomach to find out what had had to her old captain or any of her other shipmates. The past was the past, she decided. Tomorrow presented enough problems…



…and possibilities, she mused as Tara came back in, checking on her, no doubt. Willow noted with raised eyebrows that the counselor was wearing only a bra and panties, non-Starfleet issue at that. My my, she thought. Hers was not the blatant attractiveness that Buffy possessed, that drew men around her like moons around a gas giant, but a calmer beauty that one would often overlook at first glance. Even so, she must have had to beat guys off with Klingon painsticks…and I wish I could have thought of a better mental phrasing than “beat off”…



Tara smiled and sat on the edge of the bathtub, looking at the mass of bubbles topped by a head of red hair. “How do you feel?” she asked.



“Decadent. Sinful, even.”



Tara leaned over, unmindful of exactly where she was. “How sinful?” she inquired with a lopsided leer.



Willow looked up at her, and a naughty notion crashed through her brain. Reaching upwards, taking advantage of her being slightly off-balance (and more than slightly intoxicated) she pulled Tara into the tub, with an impressive cascade of soapy water.



A blonde head suddenly surfaced, shaking from side to side, and a pair of blue eyes blazed into green ones as Tara coughed up some water. As soon as she got a full breath, she huffed mightily. “Well, thanks!” she cried, splashing a handful in Willow’s direction.



“I’m sorry,” Willow managed between chuckles. “I, uh, just couldn’t resist.”



“Um, s’okay.” Tara could not find it within her to be really mad about the prank, given that it gave her an excuse to be close to Willow in such clothing-deprived circumstances. Not to mention, even the score a little… She tugged at her soaking-wet underclothes. “Not much sense keeping these on, huh?” Standing up (very carefully), letting soapy bubbles dribble down her body, Tara reached around and undid the clasp on her brassiere; slowly pulling down the shoulder straps. Music, professor, if you please? Watching Willow’s reaction, she pulled the bra off, revealing her full breasts.



Sitting on the other side of the tub, Willow was frantically trying to locate her lower jaw, which had dropped straight down into the water. At first her amazement was simply due to Tara’s brazenness, but…



Breasts. Wet. Soapy. Undulating side to side. Constricting slightly upward as arm and shoulder muscles wrung out the bra and tossed it onto the towel rack. Willow found herself mesmerized, and amazed at her mesmerism. Her dazed mind scrambled for a scrap of memory…



“C’mon, Will, we’ll be late for Astrophysics!” Cadet Second Class Elizabeth Summers called out as she entered the bathroom attached to the dormitory quarters that she and Willow shared. Through the translucent stall door she glimpsed Willow’s nude form hastily scrubbing her head under the sonic shower’s field, then straighten to reach out an arm to the control panel.



The pleasant thrum of the shower ceased as Willow cut the power and stepped out of the stall. “Sorry, Buff, but experimentation in hair-care products doesn’t always conform to expected timetables.” She grabbed a towel and vigorously wiped herself dry.



“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just get your butt outta there so I can get my butt in,” Buffy muttered, shucking off her Academy-issue robe and hanging in on a hook next to the towel rack. She turned towards the stall, passing near her equally-nude roommate, glancing in mirror as Willow prepared to brush her teeth…and stopped. She turned fully to face her reflection in the vanity mirror, frowning.



Willow spit out her toothpaste and shut off the water. “What? I thought you were Hurry Cadet.”



Buffy’s eyes narrowed, as they always did when considered a complex problem. “Will, you know everything…”



“I’m working on it, but yeah…?”



“Why do men like boobs?” At Willow’s raised eyebrows, she elaborated, indicating back and forth between her reflected breasts and Willow’s next to her, “I mean, they don’t do anything…at least, not for the men. They just…hang there.”



Willow looked down at herself, then over to Buffy’s chest. “Actually, yours just hang there. You’ve at least got enough there to hang…unlike me.” While it was true that Willow wasn’t exactly flat-chested, her natural skinniness tended to make her seem almost boylike in figure.



Buffy sighed. Sometimes, shoring up Willow’s self-esteem was a full-time career in itself. “Willow, trust me. Someday, someone’s gonna lust after your boobs, and you know why? ‘Cause they’re attached to the most wonderful person in the galaxy.” She put an arm around the shoulder of her good friend and drew her close.



“Aw, c’mon, don’t make me blush…”



“Like anyone could tell, with your complexion, anyway…”



Willow raspberried her back for that one. Then, a thought occurred to her just as Buffy was preparing to take her shower. “I know why guys like boobs!” At Buffy’s inquiring look, she concluded, “’Cause they don’t got ‘em.”



Buffy flashed a smile, reached out with a finger and tapped Willow’s nose in a gesture of shrewdness; then, as Willow turned to put her own robe on, Buffy smacked her bare buttocks and laughed at Willow’s goodnaturedly-outraged howl…



Willow’s mind grabbed onto that vignette and tried to analyze it. See, Buffy and I, naked in front of each other, didn’t mean a thing. Perfectly natural. Just because Tara is right here, topless, in front of me, and I can’t take my eyes off her, her, my God, they move! And they’re so round! Okay, not perfectly round, there is a standard one-gee field on this ship, per Starfleet protocol, but, but, where am I going with this? I don’t know. Do I care? Don’t know that, either. Ohhh, now what is she doing?



The blonde woman had turned partially away from her companion; then, smiling at her provocatively over her shoulder, she hooked her thumbs through the waistband of her panties and slid them down her hips, past the curve of her ass, the sudsy bubbles on her lower back now glistening down the downy cheeks and filling The Great Divide. Balancing carefully, one hand on the edge of the tub, Tara stepped out of the wet undergarment, tossing it over to the towel rack. She sat back down, although the last third of the journey went all at once, resulting in her heavily splashing down. “Ooof!”



“Careful there, Graceful!” Willow giggled.



They took turns washing each others’ hair, using the fragrant shampoos Tara had already stocked her bath, rinsing with the small sprayer-hose attachment. Willow marveled at the thick suppleness of Tara’s dark-gold locks, as Tara leaned back under her ministrations. “You have wonderful hands,” Tara said in an exaggerated drawl, “so warrrrrm.” Returning the favor a minute later, Tara luxuriated in the feel of her hands in Willow’s scarlet silken tresses.



Rinsed and done, the two sat next to one another, stretching out in the warm water, surrounded by bubbles. The shape of the tub could almost but not quite accommodate them sitting side-by side; by putting an arm around each other, they were able to sit together, in a companionable silence.



Tara kept trying to gauge Willow’s emotional state, mainly to see (and she hated to admit this to herself) if Willow was attracted to her. Unfortunately, the twin assaults of wine and fatigue had taken their toll on Tara’s empathic abilities. That particular window, not to put too fine a point on it, was closed until further notice.



Fortunately, Willow’s readiness to maintain such close physical proximity was a good sign in itself…



Tara’s musings were interrupted by Willow querying her. “Umm, what?”



“I just wanted to say,” said Willow, “that I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I mean, I know, Assistant Counselor and all that, part of the job description—“ forestalling the self-deprecating protest about to come from Tara’s mouth. “But, I really do think it was more than that for you, which I think was good for me, because, y’know, I don’t think I would have made it this far without you being here, but not only being here…being my friend, when I really needed a friend.”



“W-Well, you’re ri-right. Um, it is my job, b-but I really wanted to help you—I-I mean, I felt that you really needed my help, not that I wouldn’t have helped you, of course I would have. God, I’m saying this all wrong…”



Willow shook her head. “No, you’re not. I know what you mean, what you’re trying to say. Tara, you always speak from the heart, and that comes through regardless of, well, misaligned vocal subprocessor.” She grinned at her geeky joke. “It’s okay. Thank you.”



Tara smiled and looked down, unable to quite meet Willow’s eyes. “I am, you know.”



“What?”



“Your-your friend.” Tara looked back up, capturing Willow’s gaze. Once again, an impulse came to Tara…and this time, she gave into it. Leaning forward, she gave Willow a quick, affectionate kiss. As soon as she did, of course, she feared that it was going to turn out to be the biggest mistake of her life.



However, Willow’s expression after the kiss didn’t seem to be one of revulsion. If anything, she seemed pleased as well as surprised…which, indeed, she was. She cocked her head, gazing at Tara as if for the first time. She pulled her closer, felt Tara’s arm behind her hesitantly do the same. Willow’s other hand came up, brushing a stray hair from Tara’s face.



Time seemed to slow as the two drew nearer, as their eyes closed, their breath coalescing about their faces, each head dipping slightly to the right by unspoken mutual consent, each feeling the other’s rapidly-beating heart against her breast, their mouths opening, wide, wider…



…as they both let loose with jaw-cracking yawns. Tara could swear that stars exploded behind her eyes as the lids squeezed tightly. Willow blinked rapidly to re-focus her vision



They both smiled, to cover the awkwardness they both felt and were fairly sure the other felt as well. The moment had passed.



Tara drew in breath, surprised at how much she needed the oxygen. “M-Maybe we should get out.”



Willow nodded. Carefully, they stepped out of the tub, shivering slightly. Tara handed Willow one of the towels hanging nearby and took one for herself. She thought about using the sonic-shower’s drying subroutine, decided against it. Some other time.



“I don’t think y-your clothes are out of the autovalet yet,” Tara said, grabbing her robe from the hook. There was a wrap stored in the drawer of the vanity; Willow accepted it from Tara and wrapped it around her torso just over her breasts. The silvery fabric, extending almost to Willow’s knees, had a adhesion patch at one end that enabled her to leave it in place around her body, obviating the need for the usual “boob-tuck” that women the galaxy over used to wrap towels around their bodies. Willow had never really mastered the technique, so she was glad not to have to concern herself.



She followed Tara out of the head and into the sleep area of the cabin, yawning again. Tara looked at her askance. “You look really tired.”



Willow nodded. “Long day. I think I’m just realizing how long.”



“Me, too.” The blonde’s shoulders sagged, and she couldn’t help glancing longingly at her bed.



Willow caught the look. “Oh, I’m sorry. Look, I’ll get out of your way. Just let me get my –“ Pause for huge yawn and shaking of head. “My clothes, and go home. To my quarters. That is, if I can find them this time…”



“Why don’t you lay down?” Tara said, a part of her disbelieving her audacity this evening; between the invitation to the bath and this, she was being practically shameless.



Willow might have demurred, but did not have the strength. “Maybe for just a minute,” she said after a pause. She went over to one side of Tara’s bed and sat, then laid her head on one of the pillows and drew her legs up. Tara counted about thirty seconds before Willow’s breathing deepened and slowed.



Her eyelids felt as if the artificial gravity had been turned up by some madman from a multi-gee planet. She strode to Willow’s side of the bed, turned down the blankets, trying to dislodge Willow as little as possible (not that anything short of a red alert could have awakened her) then walked to the other side and did the same. She was about to shrug out of her robe, then reconsidered, leaving it loosely about her.



Before her head hit the pillow, Tara leaned over and kissed Willow on the cheek. “Good night, sweetie,” she whispered, before shutting off the lights and initiating emergency transport to Dreamland.



TBC.

_________________



"Honey, in case you didn't hear me the first six thousand times: no more teleportation spells."

[tasha]

Hey, thanks for the update. I've been following your fic from the start and I think it's great It's nice to see this Willow and Tara finally getting close, as it should be. It will be interesting to see what happens the morning after.



Well done on this great, and unique, fic . Update soon?



tasha

[justin]

That was a nice update.



It's good to see Willow and Tara getting past the uncertain phase

I understand, you should be with the person you l-love


I am

[frumpycat]

Your story rocks! I love how slow you are going with the W/T relationship. Nice and drawn out and soo well written from their perspectives (and just so sweet and cute). I love how they are just friends for now but with the definite sparkage going on. Much better than jumping into smoochies and lovin' at first sight. Your characterizations ROCK! Can’t wait for the next update!



Also...I wonder if Willow will still have her nightmares with Tara there....

Edited by: frumpycat at: 3/21/03 3:38:57 pm

[AntigoneUnbound]

Capt. Murdock--Oh my God, you shameless tease...To bring us so close to that moment of culmination, and then--back off. Ah, but the warm-up, the preview of coming attractions (and I'm sure that when they come, it'll be quite attractive) was so well done that I can't bring myself to be testy.



I really enjoy your characterizations, CM. I found myself nodding at your assessment of Tara--someone who's work involves relating to other people but who is herself so secluded and private.



The journey down Boob Memory Lane was such a delight, and I smiled at the compare and contrast internal essay that Willow wrote, juxtaposing her very platonic moment w/ Buffy w/ this very erotically charged moment w/ Tara.



Really well done, Capt. Murdock. Thanks for the story!

Mary

[Marilda]

That was just...yummy. More, more.

[Grimlock72]

I'm actually glad things didn't go all that far tonight. The bath-incident though possibly embarassing at least made both girls realise some things. Tara had already realised some of those, heh... as in liking Willow .



It wouldn't be good if they had taken things further that evening, being drunk and such. Bad idea to start relations being drunk . Besides, Tara appeared to be slightly less drunk or at least more aware of what was happening. Tara being Tara is likely to feel all sorry the next morning anyway.



Tara also has a work/private conflict in that she's Willow's counsilor as well, at least she was. I guess Tara should drink more often, makes her worry less about small things... and I phrased that all wrong I think : -->



Willow's flashback of the Academy and the boob-discussion was fun. I'm not decided if the results contradicts her own feelings (why do woman like breasts then?), or if she still consider herself to be pretty much boobless. If the latter Tara will happily counsil her on that, no doubt



Should be fun to see them waking up, heh... at least Tara's in her own bed. Still, after being awake for a couple of minutes they'll both think about the last evening's events, heh....



I wonder if Tara noticed Willow staring at her breasts. Will definitly seems to like 'm thats for sure.



Grimmy

"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

[jixer]

Hello Kittens-



Oh what a night. Now I'm looking forward to the morning after. And a ship is such a small community...





Jixer

[WebWarlock]

Yeah I remember reading in a Trek book ('Imzadi' I think) that the only thing faster than the ship's warp core is it's gossip network.



Of course if the Hanibal's senior staff is any indication most people will be like "well, duh, surprised it took them this long."



Like others I am also happy with the speed you are taking things with the girls. As much as I want them together, I can wait a few.



Great stuff as usual!



Warlock

-----

Web Warlock

The Other Side,
home of Liber Mysterium: The Netbook of Witches and Warlocks

"Tell me, what is my life without your love

Tell me, who am I without you, by my side
" - George Harrison "What Is Life"

[Kalita]

Well, a lot of barriers down now; can't wait to see what's next!



Just lovin' it, whatever the case...

"...not many people understood the karmic value of grilled cheese."

-Tara, Blue Athame's Angels and Goddesses

[shuyaku]

Yay you added naked Tara



But then we have naked, intoxicated and snuggling in a bubble bath and what happens? Not a damn thing you big tease!! Now that IS tired



Looking forward to the morning after...

-shuyaku

[Sassette]

Heh. Heh Heh Heh.



Sorry - just chortling in my joy *G*



This is a really fun fic ... I'm sure I mentioned this, but conceptually, W/T in Trek is just the kind of thing that makes me grin widely and do a little happy dance.



-Sass

[sheila wt]

Woo-hoo, bathtub, bathtub!!!



So happy with this update! I'm loving to see the girls getting closer and closer and yet... Ok, maybe not loving-loving, because what I really love is W&T smoochies, but you know what I mean. All this build-up is so erotic!



I just can't wait for more!!!

--------------------------
"She had tasted Willow on her tongue, and she had worn Willow on her skin. There wasn't a shower in the world that could have washed that away." (Terra Firma, by Tulipp)