by Katharyn » Thu Dec 18, 2003 9:49 am
Title: Christmas Future - In the Morning There was Light (Part 3)
Author: Forrister and Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Definitely please.
Timeline This story exists within the ideal future the show never wanted to give us but which myself and Kerry have been writing each Christmas story within. Everyone is happy and alive. Buffy did die at the end of S5, but she came back without recourse to dark magics. Pretty much everything is good. Happy. Together. Good. If you want to know what has happened in previous Christmases, the stories are in the archives.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens.
Summary: The morning after Tara fell asleep… well, you’d take the micky out of her too wouldn’t you?
Disclaimer: We don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. We am making zilch from this series of stories. You know the drill.
Rating: R – a general rating for occasional content. Individual parts might be less than this level.
Couples: Tara and Willow forever – others couples as necessary but nothing unconventional and never explicitly.
Notes: This story is set a couple of years from now.
Thanks To: Katharyn – Thanks to Kerry for letting me write something a little less dark with her again.
Forrister – Thanks to Katharyn for having the patience to wait for my slow writing to catch up with her. Thanks also to all the Kittens everywhere – Merry Christmas Kitties!!!
Christmas Future
In the Morning There Was Light
By
Forrister & Katharyn Rosser
Tara opened her eyes, and quickly narrowed them again at the light streaming in through the curtains. She groaned.
Morning? It was morning already? Just how had that happened? She was supposed to be… With Willow… She was supposed to have… What was it?
Then she remembered why she was here, in this bed… not in some hotel room. And the reason had nothing to do with sleep. She was home. She felt Willow’s arm around her and the warmth of her beloved’s breath on her back. She hadn’t come to bed to sleep. At least not originally.
Sleep had just kind of happened to her – even though she didn't remember being sleepy. It had just happened and nothing else had happened which was supposed to have happened. All the wrong and none of the right things had happened.
Morning.
She couldn’t believe it. One minute she was waiting for Willow and some long overdue snuggles and the next it was morning and she was waking up. It wasn’t fair – it wasn’t why she’d gone to bed early. Okay, so she’d been tired, but she’d definitely been in a snugglesome mood. She remembered Willow heading off to get changed into her gift. She’d really been looking forward to Willow’s emergence from the bathroom as the sassy woman she always was. But sassier now. Tara realized that she must have fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Okay, it was reaction time. Coming out of waking up drowsiness meant she had to react.
Embarrassment. She blushed right down to her . . . well, right down.
Disappointment. She’d had her fantasies about what last night would be like too. She’d been thinking about it ever since she’d found Willow’s presents and decided her love could wrap herself up in them. Wrap? Well, what she’d bought was a little flimsier than a ribbon – and about as concealing.
She’d actually been thinking about getting back together since she’d left Sunnydale.
Embarrassment. What was Willow going to say when she woke up? What must Willow have thought last night? Well, they were in love, Willow would understand.
Frustration. She’d been waiting so long, and now she had to wait longer. It wasn’t fair.
On the plus side, part of the wait had passed in sleep… but what would Willow be thinking? She must have been disappointed.
All of these emotions flicked through her in rapid succession. While she knew Willow would never hold it against her, and might even laugh, it was still embarrassing. To get to that point, anticipated for weeks, and then… dozing off. Hardly dozing, she must have been sound asleep within minutes to miss Willow coming to bed with her. She’d been way beyond dozing. Willow might even have tried to wake her from a doze, or waited for her to stir.
Had Willow waited for her last night? Had she kept Willow waiting? And fruitlessly too? She sighed, and then rapidly tried to suppress the noise lest she rouse Willow from her slumber now. If she’d kept her love awake, wondering if she was going to rouse from her doze, it wasn’t fair to wake her up now.
She sat up carefully, allowing Willow’s arm to slide down her back and onto the bedclothes. And would it be a sin to admit to herself that she kind of enjoyed the unconscious touch, drifting across her skin and her satin nightgown? She didn’t want to wake her love just yet – especially if she could enjoy the touch and scent of sleeping Willow. Not without something ready to make up for last night’s debacle.
Was debacle too strong a word for it?
Was there any word to strong for what had happened… after two whole weeks of anticipation? Okay, debacle might not be the best description.
Breakfast. Now there was a nice neutral word – but one with lots of options, and hidden benefits and partially making up for last night – maybe.
Breakfast in bed. Willow had always liked having food bought to her in bed, and sometimes to have it fed to her too. Her lover was so funny sometimes, with her little ways and mannerisms. It was the little things, as much as the overall Willowness, which made her so adorable. Even the little snorelets she made while she slept sometimes… The same ones she was making now.
Tara smiled.
Okay. Breakfast. Now she had a plan on how to get herself out of the self-dug hole she’d put herself in, and it was time to get started. It was already reasonable hour, so by the times she’d made the food…
Getting out of bed slowly, so as to avoid any waking of Willow which would have spoiled her surprise, Tara quietly put on her light dressing gown over her satin nightgown and made as to slip out of the bedroom.
Until, when she was opening the door, Willow did finally stir. Tara just couldn’t help looking back. It was like she was allowed to get out of bed unnoticed – but not to leave the lady’s presence. It made her smile, Willow’s unconscious reaction to her leaving. Well, if she didn’t slip out then the lady wasn’t going to get her sassy eggs, or would it be pancakes this morning? It all depended on just what Willow had been buying in the weekly shopping. If there weren’t the right ingredients then there would be problems with the plan – but it didn’t get much simpler than eggs or pancakes. Even a computer geek with the most perfect body, mind and soul could manage to do that kind of shopping alone.
Her lover might not have any patience for making pancakes, but she liked to get given them. Maybe there would be the necessary ingredients.
Still, she could pause – holding onto the door for a moment – and look at just what she’d missed last night. She’d missed… a carrot-topped bundle of duvet. More and more and Willow, in her sleep, gathered it to herself as Tara looked on.
Very sexy.
It really was very sexy bundle. Okay, so it was a bundle. But at each end there was a little of the real Willow showing. Hair… splayed on the pillow a little less attractively than in the shampoo adverts. And… tootsies too, which weren’t usually in shampoo adverts except for people with hairy toes.
Willow didn’t have hairy toes so that didn't apply to her. As her lover stirred there was an ankle… and Tara really liked Willow’s ankle. She wasn’t wearing the chain she’d been given a few years ago, and always forgot to take off, but it was still enticing nonetheless. The chain was very sexy.
Almost as enticing as wondering what was under the bundle… around Willow. Was Willow still wearing her presents? And if not had she put on her own gown? Pyjama’s – and Willow had some really bad pyjama’s – or perhaps… nothing at all. She’d got out of bed too fast to let the sensation register against her own skin.
She’d find out when she came back – and faced the wrath of a frustrated Willow. Well, hardly wrath, but there was likely to be some little jibes. She’d have food though – to make it better and entice Willow into forgetting about last night and just looking to, what would then be, the now.
Making her way down the hallway, Tara picked up one or two pieces of correspondence that somehow had fallen from the hall table. The memory of just how made the smile she knew must be on her face all the wider. She couldn’t help smiling. She’d woken up, for the first time in two weeks, next to the woman she loved. Now she was about to make up for the previous night with good eating… almost certainly in more ways than one.
So they didn’t have last night. Pfff, didn't matter now. It would have been nice – it was always much more than nice – but they could still have today, all day. All night, if they should happen to need it. Assuming it was what they both wanted and she had no reason to doubt it would be. What else were the holidays for other than being with the person you loved. Loving the person you loved?
Yes it was a holiday so her smile didn’t need to falter. Tara knew with absolute certainty what she herself wanted and was fairly sure that Will would be wanting pretty much the same thing, if the conversation of last evening was anything to go by. ‘Fairly sure?’ It might be the understatement of the year, and they were very near the end of the year – so that was saying a lot.
So much for them to look forward to. Together and not just in the next few hours.
But first, there was cooking to be done. The way to a woman’s heart may not be through her stomach, even if that stomach was as incredibly kissable as Willow’s was, but if her plans were going to come to fruition they’d need all the extra energy they could get.
As she looked through the walk in cupboard, which passed for their pantry, and then in the refrigerator a plan came to mind. Cereal was definitely not an option. There didn’t seem to be any for one thing, but soggy cornflakes left in a bowl whilst they got on with… other things… well, they stuck as if welded. There was bread and cheese though.
So, toasted cheese fingers was put on the menu, along with some juice. Assuming Willow had chilled some juice. Yes, there it was. Juice had to be cold to be enjoyed.
Well, most juices anyway. Actually there was more than one variety in the fridge. It was giving her more thoughts. “Mmmm. Fingers and juices.” Perhaps if there had been a plate of cold meat… say some tongue? She wouldn’t have really wanted it, but it couldn’t have been more perfect.
Fingers and juices would do, she thought to herself with open anticipation of spicy talk, if nothing else. But something more was needed. Actually lots more was needed but that something had very little to do with breakfast.
She rummaged in the dairy draw of the fridge. There were three eggs left. Eggs were a must. “Sassy eggs” as Willow called them. Fried, with their rich golden orbs gleaming as they lay there in their suggestively, sassy manner.
Fingers, sassy food, a selection of sweet juices. She smiled to herself at the appropriateness of it all. Willow would love it… and Willow would love her… and she would love Willow… Lots of love all round. Which was as it should be. And good eating too.
Willow… there was definitely good eating on one of those.
It was more than a small effort to drag her mind back from contemplation of what was to come, and back to how she was going to get them there. Tara got out the bread and cheese and began to prepare things. The eggs would come last because they took the shortest time to cook – and they had to be done just right. Too short and they’d be runny, too long and they would be hard. Neither was very sassy. There was an art to being sassy and over the years she thought she’d perfected it.
Once she’d cut the toast into fingers and topped them with a strip of cheese each, she put them under the grill to melt and brown. While she was waiting she took a quick peek out the kitchen window to see if anything was blooming which she could borrow from to present to the woman she loved.
It was an advantage to have a garden of their own, with their own flowers. Unfortunately, it being the middle of winter nothing was flowering. All the plants were hording up their energies for a bright spring. She certainly couldn’t wait until spring for them to bloom. She didn’t think she could wait longer than breakfast. Willow would just have to do without flowers. Though there might be petals, of a sort. Unfolding petals… all pink and lovely.
There was, she mused, her rosemary bush though, with its fresh, clean smell. Not as desirable as the scent of Willow in the morning, but definitely a plus as a garnish.
No, Willowscent wasn’t a herby scent. Willowscent was a sweet and spicy scent – which was entirely fitting. Not all of it was down to cosmetics, shampoo’s and fragrances from bottle’s either.
Tara began to prepare the tray. A vase with a single flower would have been a nice touch, but a sprig of rosemary, and perhaps a little mint on the tray would make up for its lack. And it would be guaranteed to carry a scent. Some flowers… they could be a little barren in that department.
As the cheese fingers began to slowly colour, she put the skillet on to heat. She got out a couple of plates and added two glasses and a bottle of tropical fruit juice. Tropical juice was good, it was easier to say it was already ‘juices.’ That was going to be important for her spicy talk. Not that she was planning it or anything.
It was just when she was having thoughts of spicy talk, and juices, whilst preparing their fingers that she noticed the grinning figure standing silently in the kitchen doorway, watching her with undisguised interest. ‘Interest’ being a unassuming way of meaning ‘lust.’
Willow just loved her being all domesticated.
And what a figure it was too. Wearing her own light dressing gown, which was casually hanging open to reveal the sexy camisole and suggestive panties. They were much sexier now Willow had them on than they had ever been in the bag – apart, perhaps, from when Tara had been thinking of just this sort of view. She never tired of looking at the sheer magnificence that was Willow.
And yes, sheer, was more than a little appropriate too.
In parts they were barely there.
“I thought you’d turned down the idea of a little kitchen fun last night?” Willow gave that little smile which always made her love slightly weak at the knees. “So, what’s cooking?” She sidled over to Tara and draped one arm over her shoulder, whispering “You need to tell me, because right now I only know what’s hot.” Then she punctuated the remark with a kiss that held all the promise of things to come – but also served as their traditional ‘welcome to the new day.’
Thoughts of toast and cheese and even sassy eggs were driven far away as Tara held Willow close and returned the kiss, turning up the heat a notch or two. In the midst of the kiss she couldn’t even remember her plans for the spicy talk. It had been something to do with the food, but who cared?
“If you distract me too much, love, we won’t be having breakfast in bed.” Tara slid out from under Willow’s arm to check the griller. Sassy eggs would go hard all too fast. Cheese on cinders wasn’t going to be quite so edible as… ooh, say Willow.
“But if I help, then we can get to breakfast, and back bed, all the faster.” Willow countered as she reached out for the eggs.
“The skillet should be ready. “ Tara gave her another quick kiss, which said wordlessly that she too was ready to head back up there. “I like my eggs sassy, like my women. But you knew that already.” Had there been something she was going to suggest about juice? And the fingers?
Damn… it had all slipped her mind. All she could remember was the sassy eggs… They had a history of sassy eggs together and it had been the cooks at the campus canteen who’d started it all. Bless them.
“Women...? There have been women?” Willow feigned a pout at the plural.
“Oh yes.” Tara shot back, a twinkle in her eye. “There was a girl in college. Back before I hooked up with the nerd running a computer company out of our basement, there was her. I met her at the campus wicca group where she was trying to break out of her own geeky mould. Then there was the one I shared a house with – along with some of our other friends. And then I was living with this gorgeous businesswomen…”
“They were all red heads I suppose?” Willow taunted playfully as she carefully cracked the eggs into the pan.
“Funny you should mention that. You wouldn’t be wrong. I have a thing about red heads. I just can’t keep away from them.” Tara got the cheese fingers out and left the tray on the bench to cool for a little. Which gave her a few moments to look at Willow again. Willow and her sassy, jiggly eggs.
Oh, and what she was cooking too.
There was something unbearably sexy about the sight of Willow cooking eggs in her robe and some underwear which was so sexy on her anyway… And oh, she was jiggling a little too. All excited. Tara hadn’t anticipated just how good Willow was going to look in them, even if she’d had a few idea’s.
“Me, see I’m a sucker for a blonde myself,” Willow said. “Though, if she decides to dye her hair again, then I wouldn’t mind too much. As long as I can have my blonde babe back eventually.” The eggs were sizzling away happily in their pan, but they couldn’t compete with the other things sizzling in that kitchen, one of whom reached over and planted a passionate kiss on the other. They stood like that for a moment, lost in each other and oblivious to all else until Tara broke away with a small cry of minor panic.
“Hun, the eggs.”
Willow obediently checked the eggs and finding them satisfactorily done she slid them from the skillet to the plate where they obediently wobbled in the sassy manner they’d been aiming for. It was a sight fit for giggles, when you were in the joke as they were. Tara added the cheese fingers to the plate and picked up the tray as Willow held open the door for her. Next stop, bed. Once they got there, they might not stop being in bed for a while.
Or on it, at least. The covers might be a little stifling – and they’d create their own heat. Tara was already working on it.
Brrrring. Brrrring, brrrring. Brrrring, brrrring.
No. Go away. We’re not home.
We’re never home when there was snuggling planned. At least that was what they always promised themselves. Besides, if they picked the phone up then the food was going to go cold on them.
Tara looked at her, knowing that it wasn’t in Will’s nature to let the phone ring out. No matter how much she might insist, after they’d been interrupted in the past, that it really had been the last time. The very last time. But it never was. Willow was running a business and, even though her clients all knew she wasn’t available for the next few days, the truth was they never knew if calls were important for other reasons. Tara watched, slightly amused, while the struggle to ignore the persistent ringing played across her love’s face.
Brrrring, brrrring.
It was difficult, holding the tray, but Tara tried to look sexy. She let the long slit in her gown part around her leg. Then she blew Willow a kiss, feeling silly… but kind of sexy too. Apart from the tray in her hands.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want Willow to answer the phone – as long as it was a quick call – but she did want to watch the struggle play across those pretty features.
Brrrring, brrrring.
Tara laughed as Willow fought the imperatives within herself, and gave her silent permission to answer the phone, but still the battle raged in those green eyes. She could feel those eyes sweeping up her body. From toes to ankle, to bare knee… to the little but of thigh she was showing and then onwards to parts of her that were concealed by the satin.
Perhaps the caller would give up. That was a lot of rings already which they’d managed to resist. And why wasn’t the answer phone kicking in? Oh, Willow had sat on it. And it had beeped when she had done. They hadn’t cared about the beep back then… because they’d been anticipating just what they were anticipating again now.
Tara hoped that anticipation wouldn’t go the same way as it had last night. IT might even be just a wrong number.
Brrrring, brrrring.
Finally Willow’s eyes, as they rose and reached her face again, rolled up as she mentally pleaded with the fates to make this a really fast call. Tara knew just what she meant.
“I’ll take the tray up and be waiting for you.” Tara said as she gave her love a smouldering look and blew her a kiss. It was certainly more likely to be for Willow. She might be a post-grad student now, but none of her friends from college were likely to be up and out of bed yet.
It was a student thing.
Willow grinned at Tara’s attempt at a sexy sashay to the stairs as she picked up the receiver. She was almost giggling as she needed to find a word and greet the caller. In the end all she could manage was a laughter strangled…
“Hello”
The voice that answered her was the last one Willow expected, but in a perverse kind of way it figured. It was insane troll logic at its very finest. And it gave her a sinking feeling. Of course it would be her – who else would it have been right now? Just when they didn't want to hear anything but the sweet nothings whispered by each other it would have to be her.
“Hello, yourself.” Anya replied. “Long time – no hear and all the small talk you could wish for if it means we can cut it out of the conversation.”
“Anya...? Erm. Right. How nice it is to hear from you.” Willow struggled valiantly to keep from gritting her teeth. Anya was just so good at setting them on edge. Especially now. The truth was they had always been friends with each other’s friends – and partners. Not really friends in their own right. Willow’s best friend had been Xander, and later Buffy, whilst of all the scoobies, Willow supposed Anya had always been closest to Tara.
Except when she was all over Xander, of course.
And didn’t the woman know the meaning of the holidays for those who weren’t involved in the faiths making free with the celebrations? To such people the holidays might mean something very different.
Something like staying in bed… going back to bed for reasons other than sleeping. Eating sassy eggs together. And then moving onto the second course when all the plates were empty.
Though she might have cleaned her teeth in between.
Of course she wouldn’t have realised. Anya had her own holiday rituals to perform. Capitalist ones. Anya was in business too – one that usually made more money in the holidays. She’d have been at the magic box for a few hours already, getting her stock ready and probably making ready for the sales.
“Then why haven’t you rung me sooner?” Anya hadn’t changed much. Still blunt.
She was getting quite a reputation as a no-nonsense businesswoman, Willow had been to a Chamber of Commerce meeting in town a couple of months ago – at Anya’s invitation and suggestion – and even for a bunch of people keen on making money… Anya had obviously scared hardened business owners with her ferocious pursuit of the dollar.
It had made her some good connections though, the Chamber of Commerce, and it had been hard not to admire Anya in that environment. Business, perhaps, saw her more at home than she had been anywhere since she’d been Anyanka, the demon.
Willow had been expecting to hear about the police raiding a Magic Box sweat shop for a while now. But then, even sweat shops had to pay some wages. Wages were something that Anya was very much opposed to. Instead, it appeared seemed that Anya preferred to put in the hours herself, with Xander’s occasional help. That way she was paying no one any of what she would see as her money. It was admirable. Willow did much the same thing because she actually couldn’t afford to pay anyone with the skills she would need them to have – but by comparison with WillSecure, the Magic Box was an established business and raking it in. Anya could have taken it more easily, but it probably wasn't as much fun when other people were touching the money.
In the real, grown-up, world they now inhabited it was a good thing, but the old gang would always see her as the same Anya-centric, bunny fearing woman she always was. Marriage to Xander hadn’t really changed her at all. It had given her access to his help, for free, on his days off though. Poor thing. But then, when you were running your own business, Willow knew very well, there weren’t many days you actually had off. Not entirely.
“Erm… I’m not…” she really didn’t want to get into why the gang had kind of fragmented and she hadn’t kept so closely together with Anya. Especially Anya. Especially now.
But then, this was Anya. She was always reading books on how to ‘Start conversations and earn money.’
“How’s your business?” Willow asked – and trying to sound like she was really interested and Anya hadn’t mentioned small talk – which she considered to be a waste of valuable times – unless it led to making a sale. And she supposed she was actually interested, at least in as much as wondering how much Anya was having to pay out to Giles, her silent partner.
No, she wasn't interested now. She would have been interested, at any other time, but now she was just itching to get off the phone and into bed with Tara.
“The Christmas rush is on and business is great. I’m expecting you both to come and buy all your gifts from me today,” Anya replied.
What?
Neither she, nor Tara, tended to buy people magical gifts anymore. And they’d already done what shopping they needed to for a quiet holiday period. Besides, after a few years of Anya running the Magic Box the novelty of receiving ‘magical’ gifts had long since worn off on the whole gang. They’d had magical gifts coming out of their ears – fortunately not quite literally. It had been a close run thing once though.
There had been a year when Dawn had actually been surprised and happy to receive a store voucher for clothes.
“And how’s your little sideline coming along?” Anya went on.
Anya had to ask. When she’d found out that Willow was starting a one-woman company of her own Anya was constantly pinning her down in corners or on the phone to give her some good business advice. Which was all the more exasperating since it was Giles who’d established the Magic Box. At one time Anya had just been the hired help. What did she know about setting up a business?
Well, actually more than Willow would have thought. The problem was Anya had a problem with the whole idea of not having a tangible product. It was, the former demon continued to argue, the sort of thing which had led to the crash of the tech-stocks.
Willow had always thought that argument was a little out of the league of WillSecure at the moment. Floating on the tech markets… not going to happen for a few years at least. And by the time it became possible, if it ever did, Willow wanted to know what she was doing.
And she didn't want Anya to be talking to her about it.
Still, she’d finally decided that Anya was just trying to be as helpful as possible, but if the day ever came when WillSecure made more money than The Magic Box there would be a very sulky Anya to deal with. How could she make more money when she didn't have anything to sell? That was Anya’s point of view on it. Hence the sideline jibe, especially as there had been an article in the local free-paper just a few weeks ago about the local business with clients all around the world. WillSecure found the news for the first time.
Anya could only dream of international business customers. And, in fact, she probably was dreaming of them. When she started to work wholesale… well, look out world. It was just a good job she knew so much about what was dangerous and in what combinations.
Besides Willow couldn’t be too critical, Anya had referred several good, local, clients her way and always kept her business cards on the counter in the shop. One good turn deserved another – even if she’d suspected that the ever cautious Anya had just been looking for some protection for her website and billing systems. Willow had reciprocated by making The Magic Box online store as secure and as pleasing to the eye as possible. Anya had made a, small, mint from her online operations and she knew she owed much of that success to the help Willow had given her, so naturally she wanted to give Willow help in return… whether Willow had actually wanted it or not.
Willow couldn’t seem to make her understand that though Anya could refer people to her for computer security services, it was much tougher Willow to do the reverse. Not that many people in business actually saw a need for magical services.
Perhaps it was because they didn't see as much of each other as they had done, but there was a friendly rivalry between them now. They both dealt in scarce commodities of a sort. It was just that Willow’s was knowledge based, rather than being chopped off a chicken, dried and then ground up in essential oils.
Willow sighed. Even with her best efforts this promised to be a long conversation . . . every conversation with Anya was a long conversation. Longer than she wanted it to be anyway. Partly, she knew, it was because she couldn’t resist verbally sparring with her friends wife. “Well Anya, I’ve pretty much closed up until New Year. The rush comes at end of financial year here – when companies discover they have money left over in their budget and decide to spend it on some of their wish list frills rather than lose it in the next year’s budget. I live for the budget surplus – and with different countries having different financial years, I get a few of them.” Willow changed the phone over to her other ear and stuck her head into the hallway to see if Tara was still there, but no luck. She could really have done with some motivation to be nice right now. Nice to Anya at least, she needed no motivation at all to be nice to Tara.
She could be very, very nice when she wanted to be – and with Tara she just couldn’t help wanting to be.
“I’ll bet they all put it on the tax return too,” Anya added gleefully, being one who would consider that tax was a form of legalised theft. Willow had watched her once or twice. Anya would hover over the accountant like a vulture, ready to spring if she thought he was missing anything. Or finding too much. She’d caused one man to retire and the woman who replaced him had a nervous breakdown. Seeing that, Willow had resolved to be a little more flexible in her dealings with the IRS and the accountants paid to minimise her exposure to them. Anya’s latest one had lasted longer than most, nearly a full tax year. But the proof was how he handled next years tax season. If he survived to see it without quitting.
Willow decided to go for broke – she desperately wanted to be off the phone and knew that if it wasn’t done just right Anya would simply ring her back right away and there would be no hiding from it. Ringing phones were an irritant they didn’t need at the moment. As far as she was concerned all they needed was each other.
And no irritants. Anya could be a bit like sand on a beach. Getting into all the wrong places just when you didn't want it to.
Besides her breakfast would be getting cold and that would be harder to warm up again than Tara would be.
“Anya, sorry but I can’t really talk right now – we were literally on our way out the door when you called.” That was true, even though the door in question was in the kitchen and heading back towards the bedroom. “Was there something in particular you needed? Because if you want to chat I can call you back. Tonight maybe.” Willow crossed her fingers and hoped that would be enough of an excuse. Not that any of them chatted much anymore. It was more like Dawn was the conduit for their gossip over the last year or so. And it wasn’t just because she and Tara had left the other side of town behind.
There was more than that going on. It was life.
And yes, she guessed she had even missed Anya, when she thought about it, and not so much about how the woman could get on her nerves.
But not right now. She wasn't thinking about it now. She had better things to do.
“Of course there was something in particular. You don’t think I’d call you out of the blue for nothing did you?” Anya protested indignantly.
‘You’ve done it before,’ Willow thought to herself.
Many times. But just you try calling Xander when he and Anya were about to get ‘snuggly.’ Anya had sometimes even put messages on their answer machine to that effect. ‘Go away. We’re having sex.’
Willow supposed it had the virtue of stopping anyone from calling twice in an evening.
“Dawn asked me to call you. She rang you about lunchtime the other day but couldn’t get anyone, so she called me instead.” Anya even sounded proud of the fact she was the reliable one, the one who would always be where she was supposed to be.
Businesslike. What was Willow running? A business or a charity? It was all there in her tone.
Dawn? Okay, Willow was curious. Why would Dawn call at a time like that? It had to be important enough to need to leave a message with Anya instead though, otherwise she would just have called back another time. How long ago was this? Anya could be oblivious to time, food, anything that interfered with Christmas sales. Weekends just brought in another kind of customer – the ones with money to spend. Holidays… opportunities. Aside from that, everyday was a day which ended in ‘Y’ and therefore business as usual. It had taken Xander along time, and threats of divorce, to get her to close the store on a Sunday – so they could have at least one full day together. “When was this Anya?”
“Um… right after the delivery of the dried frog paperweights which would make it…“ Willow could almost hear Anya trying to work it out by relating it to money. “It was the day before yesterday, because I’m due to get invoiced the day the banks re-open. Do you know what time she called? It was in the middle of the lunchtime rush.” Anya couldn’t believe the stupidity, obviously.
The idea someone might want to talk during the opening hours of the store? Shocking.
The doorbell rang out at that point, distracting Willow further. Tara was up there, waiting for her. With sassy eggs. Fingers. And Juices. Yet here she was answering the phone, trying to get the message out of Anya, and now there was someone at the door? Who called at this time in the morning? And on the day before Christmas. “Can you get the door, sweetie?” Willow called up the hallway, hoping her voice reached the bedroom.
At least Tara would come back… they could play little games whilst she was talking to Anya. After whoever it was had gone of course, sometimes it was fun to play games.
“I got it.” Tara replied as she dashed down the stairs, tying up her robe to hide the satiny garment underneath. Besides it wasn’t all that warm this morning.
“Sorry Anya, that was the doorbell. What was that you were saying?” The morning’s promised snuggles seemed to recede further and further from the realms of reality as she spoke. It might be someone they could get rid of quickly though… and Tara was back in her sight. Which was good… seeing Tara was way better than thinking about her – though her thoughts could sometimes be pretty interesting.
“Oh, that will probably be Dawn then.” Anya offered cheerfully. Willow was stricken speechless.
Anya obviously missed the shocked pause and continued. “She rang me, when you didn’t answer, to say that she’d be there on the 23rd, sometime in the morning I think she said. One of the familiar’s had run off with the pad I would have made a note on so I didn't take it down. Can I interest you in a black cat, Willow?”
Willow stopped, thoughts of another cat trying to horn in on Miss Kitty’s space quickly forgotten as she looked at the calendar on the back of the kitchen door. The one that had the 22nd meticulously and precisely coloured in with gold highlight and the words ‘Tara’s home’ on it too. Today was the 23rd. Anya had got a call on… the 21st. At that point Willow mentally went through a list of rather rude words she reserved for special occasions –historically they were typically about Anya. Or bad drivers. Out loud though all she said was. “How nice, Dawnie’s here.” Is Dawn here? Why is Dawn here?
Did I miss something about Dawn and being here?
“I knew you’d be pleased about that.” Anya piped up brightly. “I told her you would be. And that it was all okay with you. Tara will be so glad to see her too.”
What will be okay? What had they agreed – or what had Anya agreed for them?
Without asking? They hadn’t forgotten anything had they?
Was Dawn okay? She’d have had to have travelled all night to arrive this early, not the usual thing for a young woman who liked her sleep. Was there a problem?
Willow could hear Tara greeting Dawn at the door, and could imagine the hug which would be taking place. She could hear the surprise. That was the hug that she should have been getting right now. Not quite the same sort of hug, but a hug nevertheless. Any other time she’d be overjoyed to see the girl who was like a little sister to them both, but why just now? Was there some goddess who was conspiring against snuggles?
“I don’t know how you managed to wait so long to break the good news.” Willow said in a totally flat tone. “It’s really a… surprise.”
“No need to thank me. Always happy to help. I knew that, with Tara coming home last night, you’d be having sex. I didn’t want to interrupt that,” Anya burbled happily, oblivious as usual to the more subtle overtones of Willow’s voice. Willow refrained from replying impulsively only by force of willpower.
Anya had still interrupted sex.
On the other hand… Anya had actually tried to not do that. And if that was Dawn’s voice she could hear – and it was definitely someone Tara knew – then better to have been frustrated before getting the bedroom than… during time in the bedroom. They might have left Dawn standing there whilst they made themselves… decent.
“Thanks for your consideration, Anya.” Willow’s mind was calculating on many different threads at the same time. Was the spare room in a decent state? Was Dawn here to stay? Could they fit in some snuggles tonight? Quiet ones that wouldn’t disturb Dawn? Was it actually Dawn at the door?
They’d done that, quiet snuggles, for years while they were living at the Summers house, allowing themselves noise only when they were in the house alone. Not that they were shrieking or anything, but they’d had to be careful giggling before let alone anything else. Since getting their own place they’d been allowing themselves more latitude with noises, however quiet snuggles were way better than no snuggles at all. Dawn’s presence wouldn’t have to get in the way. Maybe… they could even grab a shower together whilst Dawn settled in? No snuggles… which was what they were getting at the moment… it didn’t bear thinking about. Was there some sort of cosmic conspiracy to keep them constantly frustrated? Willow doubted it, but it was definitely beginning to seem that way. It was so unfair after two weeks apart.
“Well, I guess we should go and get the spare room ready. Tara says ‘hi’” she said, trying to think of a way to hang up on Anya without offending her. Tara hadn’t said anything of the kind – but she would have done if she’d been here. Tara liked Anya much better than she did. Tara even missed Anya when they didn’t see her for a while. When, a few months back, they’d gone to see them Tara had been going to see ‘Anya and Xander,’ whilst she had been going to see ‘Xander and his wife.’ It was a whole other mindset.
“Willow,” Anya said, obviously oblivious to her words, “I have to go. Customer.” Anya hung up abruptly, saving Willow the effort of wriggling out of the conversation. She wondered how it could be arranged to have a customer walk in anytime she needed to get off the phone to Anya. There must be a spell somewhere, if she went back to the black arts she’d largely left behind now, then perhaps.
Willow took a moment to pull herself together. Literally. She was very aware of what she must look like right now – good to Tara and inappropriate for greeting a guest, even if it was Dawnie. She covered up and tied her dressing gown close. No need for Dawn to know what she was wearing. She tried to suppress the frustration and just be glad that Dawn was here. The last thing she wanted was to give Dawn the impression that she wasn’t wanted here.
It would just have been better if she’d got here a little later.
Say a few hours.
Even half an hour would have done – if they’d known.
“Look who’s here hun!” Tara said, with a cheerfulness that Willow knew from years of closeness was slightly forced, not because she regretted who was here – but more than she was here right now. It was just how Willow felt. She couldn’t be happier to see Dawn, especially at the holidays. But… why right now?
Willow smiled. The smile was warm and welcoming. She carefully made it so. “Dawnie!! It’s so good to see you! How’ve you been? How’s school?” Please say you need to go back out and come back in a few hours when we’d love to hear all about it.
Dawn hugged her and kissed her cheek. Willow regretted feeling annoyed at their plans being thwarted. She and Tara could snuggle anytime, but they saw Dawn so rarely since she’d gone away to school. It was halfway across the country after all.
“I’m fine thanks. The plans for Christmas fell through at the last minute, so I thought I’d take you guys up on your offer.” Dawn could sense there was something not quite right about the response her arrival had gotten. It was enthusiastic, but there was a slight undertone and not just of surprise. Why were they surprised? Was she earlier than she’d suggested? “Anya did pass on my message, didn’t she?” It wouldn’t surprise her if Anya hadn’t. It wouldn’t have been important to her when she was working.
“Just this very moment. That was Anya on the phone just now. You know how she is, with the holiday sales and all,” Willow replied. She was feeling charitable, and determined to show Tara that she could be polite about what the ex-demon had done to their morning. Nor did Dawnie need to hear any more about her age old feud with Anya. It was as much a habit, and a running joke, as it was actual bad feeling now.
Tara looked at the answer machine. Willow’s business line had a link to it, but they had decided not to put a link in from the home line. After all, there was usually one of them here – between Willow working from home and the time she was studying at home. “How come you didn’t ring the business number and leave a message?” She asked, curious.
“Sorry,” Dawn said sheepishly. “I lost it. Well, I gave Willow’s card to my Computer 101 professor and I forgot that I didn’t have the number written down anywhere else.” Dawn had meant well at the time, but had been distracted so much by other things that she forgot about the other number until it was too late. She had trouble seeing Willow as anything other than her friend, Tara’s girlfriend and the person who’d looked after her for a while.
Anya, on the other hand, was easy to imagine having a business line.
“That’s ok. I’ll give you a whole bundle of cards to take back with you.” Willow offered. The professor had made an impressive order for some educational versions of her software. She was probably setting up her future rivals, but she’d have moved on by the time Dawn’s class graduated. Besides, she hadn’t given her best secrets away.
“Um. Er. I didn’t interrupt anything here, did I?” Dawn had noticed the dressing gowns and the funny looks on her friends’ faces. She’d seen them… in the flush of anticipation enough times in the past. Before, during and after anticipation. They’d never really been able to hide it very well. Lame excuses and lots of lingering, lusty looks were what gave them away every time.
There was dead silence for a split second until Willow leapt into the breach. “Not at all, we were just about to have something to eat.”
“Breakfast.” Tara added quickly, too quickly to leave Dawn with any impression other than the truth. Lame excuses as she’d recollected. Willow suddenly developed an interest in closing the front door, mainly to hide her blush and to keep the heat in, of course.
Tara took Dawn’s suitcase to distract her. For all the good it would do, Dawnie just knew them too well. “I’ll just put this in the spare room. Sorry, we don’t have the bed made up or anything. Your arrival was a bit of a surprise.” She went to grab the smaller overnight bag but Dawn beat her to it.
“I got it, and if you give me that one back I can take them both. I know where the spare room is. I even learned how to make up my own bed at college.” Dawn smiled. “It’s just so good to see you both. I missed you two.”
“We missed you too Dawnie,” replied Tara as she handed over the suitcase. “Can I offer you coffee then? If you won’t let us do anything else.”
Willow threw her lover a look, she was sure Tara hadn’t meant that to sound like it had. But, then, perhaps she was just being too sensitive to giving their previous intentions away.
Was it even logical to worry? Back in the Summer’s house… well, Dawn had known what they were doing – it was just that they never told her. Now, well Dawn was a woman in her own right. She had a boyfriend and Willow refused to believe, if they were moving in together, that it was all based around holding hands.
“Thanks, that’d be great!” Dawn disappeared down the hall to go up to the spare room. They could try and hide what they liked, she wasn't going to draw attention to their activities, or at least the intended ones. She’d lived in dorms long enough, trying to carry out a relationship, to realise how tricky this kind of thing could be.
And she knew what it was to be teased about it too.
“I’d have offered her breakfast, but I’m afraid there’s very little left in the pantry.” Tara’s face showed a little of the regret she felt at forgoing what they’d both been so looking forward to. While she didn’t want to embarrass Dawn, it was impossible for her to hide her feelings from Willow. Also, Willow was still wearing that sexy underwear… just a little thin piece of fabric away from her gaze.
It was maddening. But on the other hand, Dawnie was here! For the holidays. They weren’t going to be alone.
“I’ll go upstairs and bring down the tray. We can warm things up again and I’m sure we can manage some toast and jam.” Willow offered, her face having resumed its usual colour. “The eggs will be a little less sassy – but I guess sassy isn’t appropriate now.”
“There’s still one egg left in the fridge.” Tara added.
“Then that’s your department.” Willow brushed her lips across Tara’s cheek. “Remember, don’t make it too sassy though. I might lose control and go wild in front of Dawn. Throw you to the kitchen floor and ravage you or something.”
“Minx, do you think it’s likely?” Tara replied, with a brief squeeze of Willowbutt as she walked back into the kitchen.
“It’s certainly always possible,” Willow said after her.
Tara began to get things moving in the kitchen when Dawn popped her head in. “I’m just going out to the car to get the rest of the things.”
“Sure, no rush. This will take a few minutes.” Tara replied, wondering why Dawn had packed so much. When she came back with another overnight bag and a second suitcase it got Tara curious enough to ask. “It seems like an awful lot of luggage just in those bags you already brought in. Are we going to be doing laundry for you this afternoon?” She wouldn’t really mind, she knew how it was when there was just a communal laundry.
Dawn smiled. “No, we did it before we left.”
That got Tara’s attention. ‘We?’ Who was ‘we’?
The surprise must have been obvious. Dawn frowned. “Don’t tell me Anya didn’t pass on my message about this either?”
“I think that was Anya on the phone just now. Will spoke to her, I was upstairs.” Tara avoided elaborating on the last part.
“Then she probably didn’t tell you.” Dawn looked embarrassed.
“What sweetie?” Tara went across to the doorway where Dawn was standing, worried that there might be something wrong. Had she been kicked out of the dorms or had there been accident? This was a lot of stuff…
“Nothing’s wrong, Tara, I promise.” Dawn reassured her, knowing that look on Tara’s face from old. “Sam is coming too. For Christmas. I knew it would be ok. And Anya said you definitely still had room.” There was that hopeful look on Dawn’s face… she knew that of old – just as Dawn knew hers.
Okay now that was a surprise.
Finally someone got to meet the infamous ‘S’ Dawn had been carrying on with. And his name, evidently, was Sam.
This was going to be an interesting holiday.
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If I want a little pussy, I got my own to play with. Chance in Chance.
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