********
TITLE: College Confidential
WRITER: Laragh
CHAPTER RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: Willow, Tara and any other characters from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer franchise belong to Joss Whedon, FOX, ME and a whole host of other entities, none of which are me.
SUMMARY: The first part of the prequel to
Hacker Confidential and
Family Confidential - the college years!
SPOILERS: Perhaps minor references to the show or stealage of dialogue, but nothing that would spoil the series.
FEEDBACK: Yes please
Chapter 47 ********
Tara peered out between a small crack in the curtains, to the theatre on the other side, which was slowly filling with people.
“I’m a little nervous.”
Willow was sitting behind her on the floor, legs stretched out, leaning back on her arms.
“Why? You’ll do great.”
Tara shrugged one shoulder.
“I hate running that scene. I keep thinking about…”
Willow scowled.
“Not something I really want to hear; you’re thinking about Mia.”
Tara closed the curtains again and sighed.
“Thinking how stupid I was, not… her.”
Willow scoffed.
“Well you’re not the stupid one. Word on the street is she messed up her whole core class load to take on ours and has some serious make-up classes to attend. She definitely won’t have time to take on a new show, if she’s even offered one. She’s not in the theatre department’s good books right now.”
Tara crossed her arms over her chest.
“Who told you that?”
“People talk,” Willow replied, idly playing with a loose thread from the end of the heavy curtains, “I didn’t mention it ‘cause I figured you just wanted to forget.”
“I do,” Tara replied promptly, then shook her head, “I hope she can get it all done before graduating next year.”
Willow’s eyebrow quirked. Tara gave a soft shrug.
“She needs her ego taken down a peg or two but she doesn’t deserve her entire college career ruined.”
“Stop being so nice, she’s a bitch of the highest order and she deserves everything she gets,” Willow spat.
“Okay, okay,” Tara replied, in no mood for an argument, “I have better things to worry about.”
Willow could see the faint worry-lines on Tara’s perfectly made-up face.
They had been in the theatre all day, first for a dress rehearsal in the morning and then to prepare themselves and the stage for the main show that evening.
Willow had helped with moving sets and had watched the lighting people for a while, interested in the mechanics, before being assigned the role of official rope-puller. There had been so many extra stage crew that almost everyone had been assigned something as tediously-specific to attend to, but Willow didn’t mind – it got her out of moving sets mid-show and inevitably tripping over something.
This left her alone in a secluded corner between the front and back curtains. She was given strict instructions not to touch the rope for the back curtain so people backstage could run around as needed, though Willow had been cut-off from anyone else until Tara had popped her head in and found her.
“You think you have stress?” she asked, hoping for a smile, “I have to pull this curtain at the
exact right moment. The whole play could make or break on the tug of my hand.”
Tara smiled, but was clearly still nervous.
“You only have to be on stage for your one scene,” Willow tried to reassure, reaching up and linking their fingers, “You can come back and help me with my hand tugging.”
She saw Tara blush and stood up beside her.
“Your hair looks so good like that.”
Tara’s hair had been put into a delicate-looking 40’s pincurl-updo and had an orange and black hat perched on the side. Her skirt was grey and her shirt as orange as the hat, but embossed with sequins, and tighter than Willow had ever seen her in.
“Don’t get used to it, I don’t think I have the patience for it,” Tara replied, keeping her head as still as possible so as not to disturb it, “It took the girl two hours this afternoon.”
“Well, it’s pretty,” Willow said, hand moving out to touch, “So is that hat.”
Tara grabbed her hand before it connected.
“Don’t touch it. It took another hour to get it placed.”
“Jeez, don’t, don’t, don’t, I feel like I’m with my nanny again,” Willow whined, then took a step closer, “What would you do if I tried to kiss you?”
Tara held up a hand between them.
“Lipstick,” she said and saw Willow about to whine again, “After. Promise.”
Willow threw herself on the ground like a petulant child, rope in hand.
“Up, down, up, down. All I’m good for.”
“Don’t be like that, you know I want to,” Tara replied, kneeling down, which was no easy feat in the skirt
Kneeling had the effect of pushing Tara’s breasts up in the already-revealing shirt. Willow’s eyes were instinctively drawn there.
“Okay, forgiven.”
Tara was too busy worrying to notice the downward-directed gaze.
“Thanks.”
Willow wondered how she might get Tara to turn and see how the skirt hugged her rear, but the lighting suddenly dimmed before she had a chance.
Tara stood and started to smooth on out her shirt.
“Will you sit with me when your scene is over? I’m all alone back here,” Willow asked, recognising she was about to leave to prepare for the opening act, though was eyeing Tara’s legs now; slowly up and down, “Trapped between the red velvet…”
“Sure,” Tara replied, exhaling some slow breaths as she slipped past the back curtain to the hustle and bustle of backstage, “Good luck with the pulling, you’ll do great.”
Willow smiled at the vote of confidence even for such a menial task and waited for her cue to pull the curtain for the first scene.
She only had a limited view of the stage from where she was holed up but had enough of an eye-line to finally get that glimpse of Tara’s butt when she walked out.
Her breath caught and she had to stop herself from leaning closer and popping out the other side of the curtain.
She’d been quite eager to see how Tara acted through the scene when it was for real, but was busy watching how the heels she was in made her legs stretch even longer than usual.
Wonder if she’d wear those more often…not that her combat boots aren't cool…bitch to get off though…Before she knew it Tara was prancing off stage with the others in her scene. She pouted that her wonderful view was gone, but it was only another minute until a head poked through the curtain from behind.
“Boo.”
Willow smiled and covered her mouth to stop the giggle, then held a finger against her lip and whispered.
“We have to be really quiet.”
Tara nodded and quietly got to her knees, then sat cross legged beside Willow. She was a lot more at ease now her contribution to the evening was over.
“You did great,” Willow whispered, leaning over to peck Tara’s cheek.
Tara blushed, though it was hidden in the dim light, and smiled. She took Willow’s hand and squeezed to say ‘thank you’.
Neither talked too much, afraid of getting too loud and giving themselves away, but did start to play with each other’s hands.
It started with playful tickling, which turned into gentle arm caresses, and lips got involved soon after.
Willow was completely distracted from her rope-pulling duties, only focused on them tucked away in their little corner, but the show was on-going and didn’t need much input from her.
The bulky curtain, however, was getting under them and Willow had to pull away from Tara when she felt the tug of it again, worried too much pressure would yank it right from the hooks.
She quietly pushed it away from them then brought her mouth right up to Tara’s ear.
“Wanna sneak off somewhere?”
Tara’s eyes went wide.
“We can’t!”
“Why not?” Willow asked, running her thumb over Tara’s bottom lip.
Tara made a questionable motion with her hand, which made Willow’s eyebrow rise.
“Rope pulling,” Tara explained off the look, with a blush.
Willow shrugged; they’d been back there long enough without her being needed, and she knew it was only a token role anyway.
“This thing drags on for ages, you know it does,” she whispered, leaning in close again, “Bet I can convince you…”
She put her lips against Tara’s ear and just barely moved them. She felt Tara shudder through her spine.
“Willow, there’s 30 people backstage… we can’t just… sneak off…”
Willow had been teasing at first, but the more her arousal levels went up, the further her sensibility went.
“Come on, come with me.”
Tara could still feel that shudder at the base of her spine and wordlessly stood up. Willow poked her head out of the back curtain, and once determining the coast was clear, quickly dashed to the nearby women’s bathroom, tugging Tara behind her.
The bathroom was small, housing just two stalls and sink area. It was empty but bore the signs of numerous women having been through; discarded tissues blotted with lipstick strewn about, glitter adorning the floor and counter around the sink, almost empty lotion bottles leaking near the taps.
Tara went over and started to nervously clean the area around the sink. Willow watched her for a moment, then pushed the lock closed on the door and snuck up behind Tara.
“This is hugging your curves in
all the right places,” she said, hands moving down Tara’s sides to her hips.
Tara’s ankles turned in gently as her legs squeezed together.
“W-We should go back out.”
“You don’t like being here?” Willow asked in her most seductive tone, hand on Tara’s mid-thigh where the skirt cut off, “Alone?”
Tara’s hand were gripping the counter and her knuckles turned whiter as Willow suddenly reached under her skirt and yanked her panties down.
“Oh… my,” Tara breathed raspily, tilting forwards towards the sink.
Willow dragged her hand up Tara’s leg to her thigh again. She pulled gently so the air would hit against Tara’s sensitive skin. She noticed the pads of her fingers were dampened.
“You’re wet,” she whispered into Tara’s ear.
Tara flushed and tried to spread her legs under the resistance of the tight skirt. Willow felt it and suddenly found herself very ‘damp’ as well. She moved her hand from Tara’s thigh and turned her, then lifted her girlfriend’s hips the few inches to where she could sit on the counter.
She pushed her palms up Tara’s thighs and under her skirt again.
“Do you want me?”
Tara nodded, still flushed.
“Yes…so much…”
Willow turned her head into Tara’s neck and started to nibble while her hand pushed through the tight space between her girlfriend’s thighs.
Tara spread them as accommodatingly possible as she could. Her knuckles were turning white again.
Her legs swung idly back and forth off the counter, but they suddenly jerked when Willow’s fingers slid between her folds and found her clit.
She was already twitching; eyes moving between closed in ecstasy and darting to the door she didn’t know was locked.
The rush of adrenaline and arousal from being in such a position was doing things for her a lot quicker than they normally would.
Willow found the challenge of trying to apply fast and firm friction to Tara’s clit through her clenched thighs oddly arousing. Her mouth showed it as she got more aggressive on Tara’s neck.
She could hear sounds straining out of Tara’s mouth as her girlfriend bit down on her lip to keep herself silent. She moved her mouth over Tara’s to help with the voice suppression.
Tara welcomed the wiggle of Willow’s tongue with hers. Her thighs were trembling on top of the cool ceramic and her abdomen was taut with a fiery surge. Her knees turned in at Willow’s hips, then suddenly shot out straight as the swell of pleasure broke inside her.
She lifted off the counter for a half-second from the intensity, and continued to shake around Willow’s hand.
Willow slowed the kiss to a gentle lip-press and soft nibble, while her fingers softly scooped the warmth around them up.
She pulled her hand out from under Tara’s skirt and was lifting it up to taste, when there was quite an audible sound of applause resounding all the way through the door.
Tara was still speechless, mouth slightly agape, but Willow had enough sense to realise what it was.
“Intermission! I forgot intermission!”
She stuffed her hands in her pockets and ran out the door like she was being chased by a wild animal.
Tara saw the flash of red and blinked once, then jumped off the counter, suddenly aware of the people moving around outside.
“Crap!”
Willow was cutting past people and objects backstage to try and get to her post.
Despite appreciating the mass of curtains earlier when it acted like a make-out den, she was finding them quite frustrating now.
“Why are there so many curtains?!”
She finally found the rope, but someone had already done her job for her. She heard a loud throat-clearing behind her.
“Willow, there you are!” the professor said, hands on hips and looking down at Willow through her glasses perched at the end of her nose, with the string falling either side and around her neck, “Where on earth were you? I know you’ve dedicated your time to the sets, but that doesn’t mean you can blow off your show-night responsibility. We can’t just have the curtains left open at the end of the act.”
“Very sorry,” Willow replied, hoping her red cheeks couldn’t be seen in the light, “Call of nature, you know, couldn’t hold it, had a brain-lapse on the time. Won’t happen again, I will stay right here until the end.”
The professor sighed.
“Yes, see to it that you do,” she said, far too busy with other imperfections of the evening to chastise Willow any longer, moving onto a boy trying to push a set piece by himself, “You, come here, come here. You need to lift the furniture, not drag it.”
Willow let out a soft exhale that she seemed to have gotten away with no consequence, but decided she wouldn’t let her hand leave the rope for the remainder of the show.
Tara came back into their hideaway a minute or two later, cheeks flushed and hair still sticking up slightly.
“Close one,” she said, getting onto her knees and then sitting back, legs out in front of her.
“Sorry I just left you,” Willow replied, tapping Tara’s ankle affectionately, “I have to be like one of those guards at Buckingham Palace. Stand guard and don’t move.”
Tara pulled at the chest of her shirt.
“I have to stay in this garb until the end of the show to bow in.”
“I have to keep my hand on this rope,” Willow countered playfully, though grew serious, “I really don’t want to get a bad grade.”
“I know, sweetie, you won’t,” Tara reassured, stretching back and twisting her neck.
Willow had particular affection for Tara’s neck, so enjoyed watching her stretch it from side to side, though something else on show that shouldn’t have been moved her attention away.
“Tara!” she hissed, “You’re not wearing any panties!”
Tara’s knees snapped together and she sat up straight. Her skirt was far too short to get away with that kind of missing piece.
“You took them!”
Willow’s eyes went wide.
“I dropped them.”
“Where?” Tara asked, already standing and pulling her skirt down as far as possible.
Willow gestured wildly with her hands.
“In the bathroom!”
Tara kept her hands tight around the hem of her skirt to keep it from riding up. She skidded into the bathroom, but someone else was already in there, applying and dabbing lipstick to their lips.
“Hey,” the girl greeted, smiling through the mirror, “You did good.”
“Thanks, Laila,” Tara replied, eyes scanning the floor for her panties.
“Yeah. I never thanked you for giving up the lead,” Laila continued, smacking her lips together now, “No idea why you did, but I’m so happy I got to take it over.”
Tara nodded.
“Oh, well, um, great, that’s great.”
She finally saw a flash of pink cotton bunched up on the floor under the sink. Laila seemed to spot them at the same time.
“Some girls can be so disgusting, right? Who leaves their used panties on a public bathroom floor? They’re probably soiled or something.”
Tara grimaced but tried to hide it.
“Yeah, just…Gross. Ick.”
Laila rolled her eyes at the panties, then did a quick straightening up in the mirror.
“Well, gotta get back out there,” she said, smiling kindly at Tara as she left.
Tara waved, then rushed over to grab her panties as soon as the door shut. She went into the stall to put them back on in case anyone else came in, then went out to the mirror to check herself too.
Apart from flushed cheeks, she was presentable.
She came back out and sat with Willow again, who tried to peer between her legs.
“Panty check.”
Tara turned a darker shade of red and pushed her knees together.
“I can’t believe we did that in a bathroom.”
Willow grinned, somewhat cockily.
“You must have liked it.”
Tara’s eyebrow quirked in confusion.
“You said in the bathrooms at the baseball ground,” Willow explained, “’Maybe if it was a nice bathroom.’ So you must have liked it. Was the tile nice?”
Tara dragged the front of her stiletto up and down Willow’s shin seductively.
“I like you…”
Willow pouted.
“No fair, I love you.”
Tara leaned in and turned her head, pressing her lips softly against Willow’s. Willow responded softly at first, but pulled herself away when she felt her own tongue getting too wayward.
“Hey, no distract-y.”
Tara sighed but was smiling.
“I should go, we’re just going to get ourselves in trouble,” she said, bumping her nose against Willow’s and kissing her forehead as she stood, “Love you.”
She felt Willow squeeze her leg as she walked through the curtain backstage. She didn’t want to be in the way, so went into the changing rooms. Clothes were strewn everywhere and a group of boys and girls who had been doing the hair and make-up were sitting around chatting.
Tara started to leave, not wanting to intrude, but one of the boys waved her in with a smile.
“Hey Tara, I’ll get you out of that hat so you don’t have to wait around after. You finished your scene, right?”
“Oh, yes,” Tara replied, approaching shyly, “Thank you, Joel.“
He guided her into a chair and started to delicately untangle the intricate hat from Tara’s hair. They chatted about another shared art class they were in until the hat was gone and Joel was just playing with Tara’s hair.
“These are some of my best curls, if I do say so myself.”
Tara shook her head very gently to see them sway.
“They’re very bouncy.”
Joel laughed and pulled one curl through his hand, then suddenly cocked Tara’s head to the side and pointed at a darkened mark on her neck.
“Was this me? Did I burn you with the curler earlier?” he asked, Tara’s eyes widening and lips pursing to stay quiet, “Why didn’t you say something?”
Tara opened and closed her mouth for a moment.
“I-I must have been distracted?”
“Oh. Well, sorry. My bad,” Joel replied, then took up a comb to perfect Tara’s curls even more, “You’ve got great hair, you know that? It’s so soft.”
Tara smiled softly.
“You sound like my girlfriend.”
“I wish I sounded like my girlfriend,” Joel replied with a wry smile, “She thinks I use too much gel.”
They continued to chat, joining the others after a while until people started to filter in, indicating the end of the show. The professor came around after, to organise everyone for their big bow.
They came on stage in groups, the actors first, then the stage crew and Willow was quick to make sure she was at the end of her line so she could join Tara in the side-lines.
Once the curtain had been finally pulled, right on cue this time, they were all gathered into the now-cramped changing room in a circle around the professor who was standing in the middle.
She had the same discerning look on her face as ever; expressionless, yet eerily penetrative.
“There were ups and there were downs. There were mistakes. There was mis-timing and mis-stepping,” she spoke calming, putting fear in the eyes of many students before she finally cracked a rare smile, “But the show went on. And that is, after all, what this was all about.”
The students all looked around in relief and gave each other congratulatory pats on the back. The professor nodded along, then clapped her hands together once.
“Production is 60% of your grade. You all get an A. Final exam is Friday. And well done.”
She moved off gracefully and the smiles turned to hugs and high-fives all around. Tara shared in the congratulations with those she knew and had spent time with over the course of the class, then very gratefully disappeared into a stall to get out of the tight clothes.
She tossed on the jeans and baggy hoody she’d brought with her to change into then brushed out the curls and tied her hair up into a messy bun. She came out of the cubicle with her satchel in her hand and walked back to Willow, who was smiling.
“What?” Tara asked, curious to the reason for the grin.
“You’re just so pretty,” Willow replied, tucking an errant piece of hair behind Tara’s ear, “Some of the guys said they were going out for pizza. Wanna go?”
Tara nodded.
“Sure.”
They waited around until most of the class were ready again, and they all headed out to a nearby pizza place. Willow got a large slice of pepperoni for herself and a mushroom and bell peppers for Tara, as well as a vanilla shake for them to share.
Tara picked up the slice from the paper plate as soon as Willow set it down, not even caring about the line of grease it left behind.
“This is so good, I’m starving.”
Willow picked up the garlic shaker from the middle of the booth.
“You always gotta have an extra shake of garlic.”
“I hope you’re not planning on kissing me tonight,” Tara replied playfully.
Willow leaned over and pecked Tara’s lips.
“Stole one.”
Tara smiled and scooted closer to Willow, thigh to thigh.
“What about you guys?” one of the other girls asked over to them a few minutes later.
“Sorry?” Willow asked, too busy eating her pizza to pay proper attention to the conversation.
“We were talking about moving onto the amateur dramatics class. Are you guys going on?” the girl, a stage crew member like Willow, asked.
Tara glanced at Willow, then shook her head.
“I… don’t think so.”
Willow nodded in agreement.
“Drama…not for us. We like the quiet life.”
A few people in a far corner sniggered and a boy, who had played one of the male leads and was sure to let everyone know it, called over to Tara.
“So you’re not really a screamer then?”
Tara turned bright red and started to slink down in her seat, though was quick to be defended.
“Asshole,” Joel commented, sneering at the few over his pizza.
“I was kidding,” the original instigator said, rolling his eyes.
“It’s not funny,” the stage-hand girl added on.
There were nods of agreement all around, and the sniggering bunch vacated themselves to another booth on the far side of the restaurant.
Tara’s cheeks were still red, but she was appreciative of the support. She felt Willow’s arm secure around her, and knew without looking, her girlfriend was sending dirty looks to the departed crowd.
Tara didn’t want to dwell on what was said, and decided to distract Willow by slipping her shoe off discreetly under the table and playing with her foot.
Willow looked to Tara when she first felt it, then smiled and played back. Both of their moods brightened and they were able to enjoy the rest of the evening.
They said their goodbyes to their group early on, both tired from the long day and the various forms of excitement.
As they were walking back to campus, Willow noticed something was falling around them. She assumed it was starting to rain and went to put Tara’s hood up for her, but stopped short when she realised it wasn’t.
“Snow!”
Tara looked around and nodded.
“Yeah, looks like it.”
Willow was jumping up and down on the spot.
“Snow! Snow!”
“I know, I see it,” Tara replied, amused.
Willow suddenly ran ahead, dancing around under the still very-light snowfall.
“I’ve never been around for snow before!” she said, putting her hands out for the flakes to fall on them, “It all happened when I’d already left for winter break!”
Tara smiled at Willow’s childlikeness, but had her own memories of snow.
“We had a lot of snow in Rochester, I liked it because–”
She suddenly stopped talking and Willow paused her antics.
“What?”
Tara shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“You were going to say something,” Willow pressed.
Tara smiled sadly.
It was easier to make excuses for the bruises.“Because I got snow days,” she answered finally, not about to dampen Willow’s experience.
“Oh, cool!” Willow replied, happily dancing around again, “Those sound fun!”
“Yeah,” Tara replied, then cast those thoughts away, much happier with the new images of Willow frolicking around.
“Do you think it will snow all night?” Willow asked, looking up to the sky as if the snow might answer her itself.
Tara nodded.
“It might.”
“I hope it does,” Willow replied, twirling around in place, “This is so much fun. Try catching them on your tongue!”
Tara obliged and stuck her tongue, catching a few flakes on the tip.
“Did you get one, did you get one?” Willow asked, delighted that Tara was joining her in the fun.
“Uh huh but now my tongue is cold,” Tara replied, wiggling her tongue and putting it back into her mouth.
Willow was quick to bounce over.
“Let me warm it up.”
She planted her feet in front of Tara’s and pressed their lips together, gently pulling on the strings of her girlfriend’s hoody as she did so.
She felt all kinds of magic surround her, kissing under the starry, snowy night; like she was in one of the fairytales she’d loved to read and watch as a child.
She almost expected Tara to have turned into a cartoon when she opened her eyes, but was greeted with same shimmering blue eyes as always. She was happy about that – there wasn’t anything she’d change about Tara, animated or not.
She took Tara’s cheeks and kissed her again, deep and loving.
“I’ll love you through all the seasons.”
Tara nuzzled their noses together.
“And I’ll love you through all the seasons of your heart.”
Willow decided she must be in her own fairytale, and that it was a thousand times better than anything she’d ever read.
“Hail, rain or shine, there’s only one thing I need – and that’s you.”
Willow can't seem to escape being in a party dorm, even in a different universe.
I'm glad I was in between bites at that part.
Good thing Lucas was there. 
still playing catch up here but I'm nearly there
lol. Apart from that though I do like their choices for Hallow'een movie night; Alien, The Wicker Man, Val Lewton's Night of the Demon though I don't think I've heard of 'Seven Days', is that one of the J-Horror films?
... it was Tara’s jam-packed day and she only got to see her for a quick snuggle at night.
and 
lovin' going on.
Take care and don't work too hard. 
