You know, I wrote this, my virgin debut into fan fic, not to mention smut, a month or so before I ever even found the Kitten, and thus never posted it to Pens. Thought I'd remedy that. I'm sure we could all use a little smut boost inbetween updates to Final Exam. Hehe.
*bats her eyelashes at Ruth*
DISCLAIMER QUEEN: Willow and Tara are only mine in my deepest, darkest, perviest, silliest dreams, and as for the rest of the Scooby crew, well, they're not mine even then. Okay... there was that one dream I had about Buffy and Faith along for the ride (quite literally) with Tara and Willow and I, but I digress...
PAIRING: Willow and Tara in lerve and in lust.
RATING: SSSSS for Salaciously saccharine, silly, sapphic sweetness. XXX for the gradual degeneration from pent up lust into an all out, glorious lesbian boinkfest of graphic proportions. We're talking outright smut here. Maybe just one more X for X-tra fun. This is NC-17 goodness, baby.
DISTRIBUTION: Sure. Just let me know.
SPOILERS: More or less towards the end of Season 4.
FEEDBACK: Would be most appreciated. I can be reached at
Graashoppa@aol.com, or you can check out my paltry little writing website. hometown.aol.com/graashop...ofile.html
Or my slightly neater one on SqueekInk.
http://www.squeekink.20fr.com/juliawatson.htmlPLOT SUMMARY: Fed up with their apparent, shyness-induced inability to consummate their growing relationship, Tara takes matters (and Willow) into her own hands.
PROPS, TO BE IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWED BY SHAMELESS BEGGING: This fan fic was influenced a good deal by, and probably would not have been written at all
without the deliciously delightful spur of Wiccie's "Fun With Friction" series. I hereby join a whole bunch of other smut fiends in wholeheartedly, (wholeloinedly, too) tugging at the Wic'sters sleeve, pleading for more when she gets the time.
FINAL WARNING: In addition to being extremely sexually explicit (in a big, scary lesbo type way) this piece is really, really, really, really, really, really long. Like... 30 pages long. I got a little carried away, heh... but boy was it fun.
"Vixens" by Dumbsaint
~~~
Tara shuffled down the hallway towards the communal dorm showers, hugging her big, fluffy towel to her big-fluffy-robe clad body with one arm, her shower tote swinging idly from the other. Squeezing her toes against the rough pile
of the carpet beneath her bare feet, she smiled to herself as she walked, her grin equal parts sleepyheaded zombiefication and wicked, anticipatory glee.
The hall was silent but for the soft, muffled sound of her own footsteps. It was just after 6:30 a.m., and it seemed none of her floormates were up yet. Indeed, Tara, herself, was not usually awake quite this early, either. But today was special. Today was- she paused in thought, smiling to herself, today was the beginning of a very particular, very delicate experiment.
Trying to ignore the nervous knots in her belly, she sunk her teeth into the full flesh of her lower lip. It will work, she told herself, seeking reassurance. It has to. Something has to, this is getting ridiculous! Even for me.
Having reached the shower stalls, Tara chose one of the last ones in the row and quickly ducked inside, closing the door fast behind her, and slipping the latch into place. Setting the tote and her bundled towel down on the small bench, one by one, she began to unwrap the items she had brought along with her: the little knife, the wide-mouthed bottle full of the herbed concoction she had prepared so painstakingly the night before, and a small square of plain parchment paper.
Cocking her head for a moment to listen for anyone nearby, still she could hear no one up and about.
"Well, just to be sure,..." she murmured under her breath, taking up the knife in her right hand. Holding the blade before her like a wand, she began to trace the shape of the shower stall all around her, chanting softly.
"All sound be sealed inside with me,
As I will, so mote it be."
Her final word, "be," echoed suddenly back at her.
"Not bad, Tara," she said aloud to herself, enjoying the reverberation effect the simple spell had on her voice. Rather wickedly, she was seized with a sudden desire to hear another voice bouncing off the invisible walls she'd thrown up all around this tiny space. Naughty babble echoes infiltrated her mind.
"Mmmm," she sighed.
Tara closed her eyes and saw a flash of steamy water, wet, naked flesh, blonde and red hair sodden and sticking to soft shoulders. She heard ghostly panting, felt hot breath from a phantom mouth at her ear.
Lust, like electricity, pulsed down the length of her body, her clit babbling back up at her in a fierce Morse code cadence.
Her normally cool blue eyes smoldering, Tara hastily tore off her robe and tossed it onto the hook on the back of the stall door. Grabbing for the bottle of herb potion, she fumbled with the stopper lid for a moment and then tossed it back onto the towel.
First she anointed herself with the oil. Inhaling the scent of jasmine and sandalwood, she started at the top of her body and went all the way down: the top of her head, her brow, lips, the pulse at her throat, between her breasts, solar plexus, and finally, trailing a line down across her belly,
she grazed her oiled fingers over her clit, trying hard not to linger overlong there. She'd get to that soon enough.
Again with the lower lip biting, she mused distractedly. Where was I? Spell. Yes. Come on, Tara, get this naughty show on the road already. She forced herself to daub the oil onto her feet, too, though her brain was still stuck a few feet higher.
My own enthusiasm overwhelms me, literally, Tara chuckled. Her nervousness began to dissipate somewhat into the warmth that flooded her belly. This is for Willow and me, she reminded herself. This is for us. She took a steadying breath, focusing on her love for the redhead.
Taking the knife up again, the blonde witch dipped the tip of its blade into the oil, like a quill into an inkwell, and using it in just that manner, began to carefully etch runes onto the scrap of parchment, the lines of them glistening in a soft, ruddy brown hue against the yellow-cream color of the paper. She smiled to see the brown and red water color paints she'd added to the mix serving their intended function so nicely. Once finished she pulled back a bit to examine her handiwork. Two female runes, their staffs intersecting at a perpendicular angle stood next to three other runes:
Peorth, Gifu, and Wynn. Secret longings moving full circle into the gift of perfect love, Tara held their combined meanings firmly in mind as she began to chant again, setting the knife back down.
"Psyche, Persephone, your longing is mine. Is ours-
Let the object of my love, and me, be made free."
Tara held one hand flat, the parchment resting atop it, and raised her other hand about six inches above that. Drawing up the very heat from her veins, the power that pulsed throughout her body singing so sweetly, she focused it
into the downturned palm of the higher hand, pressing the energy downwards into the paper.
"Asherah, Innana, all boundaries be banished;
Remove all obstacles between my love and me."
The lines of the runes began to glow brightly, and then to smolder, casting up a perfumed smoke. Repeating the verses one more time, Tara felt the power of the spell flowing out and upwards, reaching beyond the showers, beyond her
dorm, seeking out a certain copper-tressed vixen asleep in her own bed in the room she shared with the Slayer.
She wished for a moment that Willow was there with her, that they were casting this spell together. She had thought about asking her, but decided that perhaps it'd be more fun this way. Besides, if she had been able to simply ask her to do something like this in the first place there'd be no need for this particular spell.
The things I have to resort to in order to overcome the shyness
heebie-jeebies. A pensive expression crept up over Tara's face.
"Am I doing the right thing?" she asked herself out loud. She was planning to tell Willow about the spell, definitely. And who was to say that Willow wouldn't figure it out for herself? That was an interesting notion, indeed. A smile twitched at her lips momentarily, and then she immediately grabbed at
her stomach.
"Why isn't this spell working yet? I still feel... masses and masses of butterflies in my tummy."
Tara looked down at her twitchified belly, placing one hand on it for comfort.
Really, they were both the biggest geeks in the world, she thought, smiling in sympathy for the two of them. That Willow wanted her was plain enough, equally as much as she desired the redhead. She could see it in the witch's luminous green eyes, could hear it in the way her breath would catch when they brushed hands. She could feel it each time they tentatively kissed- there had been quite a few kisses, but they were generally the restrained kind. Unsure kisses, that would sometimes build to passionate kisses, which ended inevitably in one of them breaking the intensity of those frantic
moments of fumbling hands and wet mouths trailing. They wanted each other- terribly, were both desperately, painfully aware of it, but they simply hadn't been able to bring their mutual longing to completion. The sexual tension between them had reached such a delirious level that it merely caused
them to one-up the other into even sillier extremes of timidity.
But not for long! The spell, along with the other plans Tara had in conjunction with it should set their longing to such a fevered pitch that even their goofy, shy selves couldn't mess it up this time. One tentative finger on her lips, Tara began to imagine what it might be like- their first time. Would they be tender? Would they tear at each other's clothes, all frenzied and breathless, grinding into one another? Probably a little of
both, she thought idly, swaying a bit on her feet as she imagined a certain body pressed tightly against her own, her lovely Willow's head thrown back, the witch's breath coming hard and fast.
"Oooh!" the exclamation passed her lips even before she knew it was coming.
The butterflies in her tummy seemed to have moved over to make room for an entirely other sensation. Tara felt her eyes dilate, lips trembling, her breath quickening.
The ache in her pulsed keenly, the ache for Willow. Willow, she sighed, longing to run her hands through the witch's hair. In her mind's eye, her hands roamed elsewhere along the redhead's skin, tracing narrow hipbones, sleek thighs. Tara gulped, having begun to salivate rather excessively at the thought of all the secret places of Willow's body which she hadn't yet been introduced to.
Yes, it was definitely time for Naughty Willow to meet Naughty Tara. Let the sexing begin, both the Naughty and the Nicer side of Tara thought together. The blonde witch grinned, feeling a little anticipatory shiver run through
her.
Finished with the ritual part of her spelling, and answering to a higher need, she carefully, if hastily, replaced the parchment next to her towel on the bench, and then restoppered the bottle of love oil, placing it atop the slip of paper so that it wouldn't fall to the floor. She'd need it later on.
Quickly moving forward to turn on the water, Tara grabbed up the purple plastic tote and set it down on the floor of the shower. She tested the temperature with one hand; it was perfect. One nice thing about these awful little dorm shower stalls- you never had to wait for hot water, and you never, ever ran out. Long, hot showers, with Willow's body pressed against her own...
Throb.
Stepping into the spray, Tara luxuriated in the sensation of the steaming water beating down against her skin. Her suddenly very hot, very sensitive, near painfully aroused skin.
She reached down for the wash cloth tucked into the tote and, loading it up with body wash, began to scrub herself all over, alternating between softly soapy caressing strokes and a firmer pressure that left her skin flushed and tingling.
As she did this, she very, very lightly reached out to touch the sleeping mind of one Willow Rosenberg, finding the Scooby curled into a ball in her own bed, dreaming of- of giant sunflowers marching down the yellowbrick road carrying buckets full of carrots. It was a scene right out of Fantasia's
"The Sorcerer's Apprentice," only gone horribly, horribly Willowweird.
This crazy, crazy girl that I have chosen, Tara giggled, shaking her head slightly. Sometimes I just don't know what I'm going to do with her.
"What I'm going to do with her," she said aloud, her voice a mere murmur as she swept the soapy cloth across the curve of her belly. "Hmmm,..." Tara sighed, leaning into the pulse of the water, and insinuated herself gently into Willow's dream.
~~~
From her vantage point alongside of the yellowbrick road, Willow watched thoughtfully as the army of sunflowers marched past her off towards the broccoli palace. It all looked well enough, and yet something was strangely
out of place, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Those buckets of theirs- they were full of carrots? Weren't they supposed to be bringing something else? Something- she stared at the rows and rows of tall, sun-bleached plants that filled the fields all around her. Corn stalks. Corn. Popcorn! That was it! The broccoli people wanted popcorn to go with their cartoons. She'd go start gathering some immediately. Those broccoli royalty folks, they weren't the type you wanted to displease. All green and florety, with their beady little black eyes.
As she turned away from the road towards the corn stalks, Will could see steam rising up from somewhere in the center of the field. And was that a running shower that she heard?
"That's a little odd." She turned a confused countenance toward the growing cloud of steam.
~~~
Tara brought her free hand to her mouth, stifling back the giggles that threatened to erupt at Willow's words. Yeah, sweetie, goddess forbid something 'odd' should present itself in your dreams. Oh, no, your dreams are totally normal, Madame Apprentice, Commander of the Sunflower Army.
Settling the washcloth against her vulva, Tara began to rub two fingers in a circular motion over her clit, enjoying the added friction of the soap-slick, wet terrycloth between her hand and her increasingly aching flesh. Hearing her own breath quicken and grow heavy in the shower stall, she had to remind herself of the silence spell she'd cast, regardless finding it much easier than usual to squelch her shyness-borne impulse to be *quiet*. Allowing a low moan to escape her lips, she concentrated on forwarding the sensations
building in her body directly to Willow's.
~~~
Stepping into the forest of golden, towering plants, Will followed the sound of running water until she came to a break in the rows of- she paused, looking around in confusion- lushly green magic beanstalks.
Magic beanstalks? I'm getting my veggies crossed, and maybe my Disney cartoon movies crossed, too. Her brow wrinkling with anxiety, the corners of her wide mouth curved downward into a troubled frown.
"The harp is in the well," she mumbled to herself. "But the water-"
A wanton moan caught Willow's attention just as she came into view of a shower stall in the clearing.
Whoa!
Her head reeled with the sensations that began to pulse throughout her body out of nowhere, the sound she'd heard causing something to tighten in her belly, something achy, something delightfully tingly and warm.
It was an occupied shower stall, she realized quickly, as she could see through the slightly steamed-up, opaque sliding glass door. Blonde hair, a familiar profile- Willow's breath caught as she recognized the shower occupant. She swallowed convulsively, licking her lips.
The potential wrath of broccoli people suddenly forgotten, Will stumbled as slow pulses of heat now expanded outward from her clit. Coming very near to losing her balance entirely, the redhead clutched at the beanstalk nearest her.
"Ohhh, my goddess," she panted, the sensation of being stroked all over her body overtaking her senses. Slowly drawing nearer to the shower and its oblivious inhabitant, Willow's eyes remained glued to the immistakable form
of Tara soaping her very naked self. She gawked, transfixed by the curves of the blonde witch's body, waves of sensuous pleasure still traveling up and down her own.
Now standing just outside the glass door, Willow continued to stare unabashed at her sweet girlfriend, Tara's mouth having fallen open slightly as another sound of pure longing escaped her. Willow ran her tongue over her teeth, her hands clenching down at her sides.
And then Will nearly jumped out of her skin as Tara turned her head over her shoulder and looked right at the redhead. The witch felt herself blush down to her toes with such heat that surely, she thought, her face must have turned the same color as her hair.
Oh, no, Willow cried out in the silent space of her head, throwing her hands over her face as if to hide herself from the blonde, but still unable to resist peeking out through her splayed fingers. This is so bad.
I am so bad. I have never been so embarrassed in all of my- wait a minute.
Tara was looking right through her, not actually at her, her pale blue eyes fixed hazily onto a point beyond where Willow stood watching. Her tongue practically hanging out of her mouth now, Will continued to look on as one of the blonde's hands began to move steadily southward.
"Oh, my goddess," Will repeated, as Tara's hand found what it was looking for. The voluptuous witch's gaze grew still more unfocused as she caressed the folds of her labia, her thumb tracing circles around her clit.
She can't see me, Will realized. Whoa, she can't see me! Her mortified expression quickly faded, altering to an only slightly guilty one. She knew that she should turn away from watching, but simply couldn't bring herself to. Naughty Willow had arrived on-scene, and she was loving this.
Nice Willow wasn't ready to give up quite so easily. "Well," she began, re-entering babble mode and trying to justify the gawkiness, "it is
my dream after all. I-isn't it? And... I wouldn't be *having* such a dream if I wasn't meant to look. And the girl that I am madly in love with, but haven't yet had the guts to actually make love to, is naked, dripping wet,
and masturbating about six inches away from me, separated from me only by a... pane of glass, and goodness gracious, LOOK at her! She is so beautiful..."
"Tara, you are so beautiful," she breathed. And you're mine, she added silently, her throat aching with the sweet sensation of loving this woman. All mine...
Will found herself placing her hands, palms outstretched, against the glass. Her face pressed up against it as well, she gazed in wonderment at the nymph before her. Tara absolutely looked like something directly out of a Greek
myth. An extremely naughty myth, but weren't all those stories about the sexploits of the gods anyway? What kind of sexploits did she and Tara have in their future, Will wondered, unable to tear her eyes away from her girlfriend.
My lover, she thought. We'll be lovers.
Why weren't they already? She couldn't recall what had been stopping them, and was suddenly struck by the strangeness of never having before taken this in with her eyes, this gorgeous, naked creature who was more dear to her, clothed or not, than anyone else in her life ever had been before.
Still seeming totally unaware of Willow's presence, the divine Miss MacClay continued to let her hands roam lingeringly along her own body, one hand lathering soapy suds up and down inbetween her full breasts, teasing her nipples into hard little peaks. Her eyes now closed, Tara inclined her head
towards the shower door. Her teeth were visible as she bit down gently on her lower lip.
Willow shivered, running her hands reverently up and down the glass, and still feeling waves of pleasure radiate from her own center. The skin on the palms of her hands had become uncommonly sensitive, and she needed to touch something- anything. Goddess, to have her hands on Tara's skin right now...
Unconsciously, she began to slightly roll her hips, pressing her clit against the surface of the glass door. She couldn't take her eyes from Tara's mouth, those full lips curved so sensuously, her face a perfect mask of concentrated
pleasure.
"Willow!" the blonde moaned, eliciting an answering moan from the girl outside. "Oh, Willow!"
She's thinking about- about me? Well, of course she's thinking about me. I mean, not of course but... she's wanting me while she- while she- Oh!
Willow grasped futilely at the smooth surface of the sliding door, feeling her insides turn molten with desire. "I'm here, Tara, baby-" she whispered, her mouth mere inches from her love's. "I can feel you-" Willow whimpered, aching for the hot sweetness that was Tara's mouth.
And she *could* feel her. She could feel the rolling motion of Tara's hips pressed up against her own, the ripple of the muscles under the unbearably soft skin of Tara's belly- the slide of wet flesh on wet flesh, of hot, steaming water beading off of both of their bodies as they stroked each other within mere inches of the brink of sanity. And then she was there in the shower, Tara's naked skin sliding over her own, mouth nipping at her collarbone, hands exploring her own soft folds. Willow cried out from the intensity of the moment, clutching at Tara's shoulders- and then at her sheets, which she had crumpled into handfuls.
Willow lay in bed, writhing with lust, her body absolutely on fire. A corner of the sheet had become tangled around and inbetween her legs, the pressure of the tightly stretched fabric against her clit wickedly, deliciously unbearable. She switched her hips back and forth, still caught up in the
vividness of her dream, fighting not to wake up fully even as the last vestiges of Tara's hands and mouth and skin faded away much too quickly.
And then her alarm clock went off. It was 7:15, time to get up and rush to get ready for her early lab.
With a cry of frustration, Willow pulled her covers up over her head, adding a squeal of indignation for good measure. So close. She had been so very, achingly close-
"Will?" Buffy's voice, slurred with very recent (or partially present) unconsciousness, penetrated through the blankets over Willow's face. Guiltily, the hacker pulled them down just enough to peek out over them, her shortish coppery locks all askew, large green eyes wide and blinking.
Buffy had groggily raised her head from her pillow, her eyes still half-lidded with sleep. "Will're you okay?" she mumbled, yawning mightily.
"Yes, Buffy, sorry to wake you. I was just- uh," Will grasped for an excuse, "protesting having to get up for class."
This garnered a slight, cock-eyed frown from the Slayer. "Since when d'you-" the slayer paused to yawn mightily, "protest going to class?"
"Good point!" Willow agreed, forcing brightness into her tone and hopping out of bed to turn off the alarm. "Silly me. You know me, heck of silly girl, from whom the stream of silliness never ends. I'll just be getting up now and taking a- um," Willow broke off suddenly, a nervous smile finding its way to her face. She swallowed. "Yeeeeah," she drawled absently, noting that Buffy had already fallen back asleep.
Now on her feet, the intense throbbing of her clit surged up and down her legs, the sensation rooting itself deep in her belly. Deep in her- she whimpered, cutting that thought off.
Can't think about that. Can't. No, no. No time. No time! She could have sobbed.
The heat in her body was making her dizzy, weak-kneed, the wetness and heat of her pussy so intense that she felt as though she'd die if she couldn't get satisfaction. Right. NOW! Ruthlessly suppressing her desire, Willow shook
herself, trying to get oriented once more to the non-naked, non-steaming, non-smutty-shower-sceney world. Have to get ready for class, come on, Willow.
With a final half-hearted whimper, she lurched toward her closet, trying valiantly to resign herself to the fact that she had to be in class in fifteen minutes, and had time only for a few brief moments under the shower spray, during which fleeting while she'd have to concentrate on waking up and
washing her hair. Five minutes perhaps. Thinking about taking a hurried shower after that dream made the prospect of that five minutes stretch into a neverending, slow-as-molasses-dripping-by eternity during every single nanosecond of which she was sure she'd be still be feeling, all the more
acutely, Tara's naked body pressed against her own... under the steaming, hot water.
Or I could take a cold shower, she thought. Ha ha. A cold shower. No! It's really NOT funny, she decided. The absence of funny was overwhelming.
"I can do this," she mumbled under her breath. "Hmmm- Can't I? Sure I can. Willow, queen of imperviousness to temptation, superhero of chastity extraordinaire-" The ghosting image of Tara's hands sliding through short blonde nethercurls automatically disengaged the stream of super-babble.
"Face it, you're fucked- or rather, sadly unfucked," Naughty Willow chimed in.
"Oh, good grief!" Willow did a little hopping-up-and-down dance of frustration before finally exiting the room to head for her impending torture session. Pouting, she closed the door behind her.
~~~
Back in the shower, Tara felt Willow wake from the secretly shared dream, and forced herself, with great self-control, to stop touching herself. She was so close to slipping over the edge into orgasm that she had to bite down on the flesh of her upper arm for a few moments to distract herself- the pain
sending exquisite shivers down her spine. Growling softly, she ran her tongue over her own skin, pawing at her belly and breasts, trying to sate herself somehow. It really wouldn't be fair to let herself come when she had willfully teased Willow in such a way, knowing full well that the redhead wouldn't have time before her lab to "fix" what Tara had started. That was
the idea, though. And it would be much, *much* better, Tara reminded herself, to make herself wait until she had teased the *both* of them into utter wantonness.
It had been weeks now since their first kiss, since the dawning of dopishly sweet endearments. They had bared their witchy souls to each other, and their inner shy dweebs- and now only their reticent, inner pervie girls needed introduction. If she had to force such an introduction with magic, then so be it. The remaining traces of ambivalence she'd been feeling about the ethics of the spell began, finally, to disappear. Who was she kidding? She should have done this a while ago. And just what kind of pervert would her sweet, silly Willow turn out to be, she wondered, delighting in the possibilities. Her mind spun with them.
No, there was no point in feeling guilty for casting the love charm behind Willow's back. It wasn't as if she was trying to create love and longing where it didn't exist. She was just helping them to have what they both so clearly wanted, each other nakedly writhing around in bed, in showers, up against walls.
Throb. Throb. Throb.
Not now! She glared down at her clit. Leave me alone!
It wouldn't.
"Serves me right, I suppose," she had to admit.
Forcing herself to pick up her shampoo bottle, Tara tried determinedly, if unsuccessfully, to get her mind off of the insistent ache. Soon, she promised herself. Just a little while longer...
~~~
For the first time perhaps in her entire scholarly life, Willow Rosenberg found herself totally unable to concentrate during class, her mind, along with renegade factions of her body, straying defiantly back to thoughts of her lovely Tara. By halfway through the discussion of logarithms, an all out
riot was in progress in Willowland, and her sanity was losing. She had never been so horny in her entire life, and it was driving her absolutely mad. Even the mile-long numbers on the white board at the front of the room taunted her, unfolding their digits and decimals into geometric shapes that swirled and pulsed in her head. In other places, too. The angles of
squares, Tara's shoulder blades, hipbones, elliptic curves tracing the shape of her torso.
This is SO very out of hand, Will thought to herself, bringing one hand to her forehead to massage her temples. She was still trying to block out the various shapes written in the lines of Tara's body when she noticed that her classmates were shuffling papers and books, and rising to leave.
Realizing then that she hadn't so much as taken out a notebook through out the entire class, she shook her head, rolling her eyes derisively and launched herself from her seat. Nice, Willow, she chastised herself.
Finally free from the confines of the classroom, the redhead lit out for the cafeteria to grab breakfast. She may not have time yet to assuage a certain relentless longing, but at least she could do something about the rumbliness of her tummy. It's some kind of appeasement, she thought, only slightly
mollified.
Making her way through the cafeteria line in a daze, Will found herself just alert enough to reflect over her busy schedule for the rest of the day. Realizing then just how busy it was, it was all she could do not to scream her frustration out for the entire cafeteria, no, the entire universe, to
hear. She had classes until lunch, and had promised to tutor a girl in her O-Chem class for a few hours before her late afternoon lecture. Then dinner, then the Scooby meeting, and then what if Buffy came right back to their room afterwards, and she couldn't be alone so that she could- arrghh!
The cashier was staring at her evilly, she noticed after a moment, as well as the guy behind her in line. What's their problem? Willow found herself glowering right back. Don't these people understand that I need to MASTURBATE?!
Hastily paying for her muffin, yogurt, and orange juice, she headed for a table off against the wall. Lo and behold, who should she pass on the way to said destination, looking delectable in a soft blue cardigan which hung precariously off of one bare shoulder? A certain blonde sat at a table alone, cradling inbetween her fingers her post-breakfast cup of herbal tea.
Tara has incredibly sexy hands, Will realized. Why have I never noticed this before?
Sighing over the curvature of Tara's neck as the blonde witch bent down to blow across the surface her steaming tea, Willow blinked, trying to make herself look away, or at least not to look as though she wanted to devour the girl on the spot.
It was useless. Fire still raged under her skin, curling up in her veins and pulsing its way into every crevice of her being. At the sight of that sweet face, though, her desire softened somewhat, her body flooding with equal parts lust and pure adoration.
One errant lock of blonde hair had escaped from the whispy bun the rest of it was pulled back into, and as she watched Tara smooth it back over her ear, the adoration started to take over.
"Tara!" she finally called, a huge goofy grin plastering itself across her face as she closed the remaining distance between them.
Tara rose from her seat, delighted to see her. She's delighted to see me, Willow savored the knowledge, grinning even bigger and sillier.
"Willow," Tara greeted her sweetly, wrapping her arms around the redhead in a warm, welcoming hug. "Good morning, my darling" she said, holding her tight, and running a caressing hand across Will's cheek. Her touch burned like fire, those bewitching fingers trailing sparks across her skin. Still
pressed against her love, in that lingering hug, it was all Willow could do not to grind her hips lasciviously against the blonde's, not to take those long fingers into her mouth to suck on.
Feeling the need to sit down, Willow pulled away and flopped weakly into the chair across the little table from her temptress. She really does look like a temptress today, Willow decided, trying not to stare at Tara's collarbone,
at the soft pulse in her throat visible near there. It was entirely too distracting. Must find something else to- Oh, no. That's not going to help, either! Tara was wearing a low-cut tank top underneath her open sweater, and the buxom witch's cleavage drew down her girlfriend's gaze like the pull of the moon on the tides.
"Gravitational no-nos are at it again," Willow babbled under her breath, ripping the top off of her carton of yogurt and attacking it ravenously. She had to get something in her mouth- this instant- or she would surely fall over dead.
"What was that, sweetie?" Tara asked, sipping her tea. Her calm blue eyes sparkled slightly, tranquil, at peace.
"Hmmm?" Willow looked quickly down, breaking the eye contact that threatened to swallow her up. She felt her eyes graze Tara's skin again. Why does looking at her feel like
touching her today, the redhead railed inwardly.
"Oh, nothing. Just thinking about math lab," she dissembled
none-too-convincingly, starting to pinch off a bite of her muffin.
Food. Must concentrate on food.
"A ha," Tara said slowly, looking up at Willow through her long lashes. "Did you, um- sleep... well?" The blonde asked. Willow almost choked on her mouthful of muffin, trying to discern whether the slight huskiness to Tara's voice was real or only lustfully imagined.
"I- I," Willow stammered. "Yes. Very well. Very." Heat crept up the back of her neck, and she arched it, trying to shake off the hold of her desire. Go to sleeeeeeep, she pleaded with her libido, closing her eyes momentarily.
"Aww, do you have a headache?" Tara leaned forward, frowning sympathetically.
I have a whole body ache, Willow answered silently. Fix it- take me back to your room and make mad, passionate, crazy love to me. A little shocked at the forwardness of this, even unspoken, Willow gulped. "Yeah," she replied absently.
Well, look at me, she thought. Go on with my naughty self. But could she get such a sentence out of her mouth? Could she ask Tara for what she wanted? She hadn't been able to so far, for weeks. Maybe, she thought, gazing into Tara's loving face. Maybe she could. The blonde was looking at
her with such tenderness- the way she always looked at her, Willow reflected, melting even more in all the places that mattered.
"Poor sweetie, here let me give you a back rub." Tara was up and in the chair next to her before Willow could answer. The redhead's shoulders tensed up at Tara's initial touch as she fought to keep her desire under control.
"Wow, you *are* tense, Willow," Tara dug her fingers into the resisting muscles, kneading firmly but gently. Will could smell a distinctly unusual scent coming off of Tara's skin. Spicy, jasminey. It was nice.
Leaning into Tara's touch, Willow sighed. Her love's fingers moved slowly, massaging her shoulders, the planes of her shoulder blades, and then moving to her neck, as one hand slid upwards, fingertips pressing into the column of vertebrae there. Tara's fingers slipped caressingly through her hair,
fingernails soonafter trailing wickedly delicate lines across her scalp.
"Mmmmm." Willow tilted her head back farther, sighing in pleasure.
"Feel better?" Tara's sultry whisper came right at Willow's ear, her warm breath tickling the sweet spot behind it. Will's breath caught in her throat, her tongue weighing heavy in her mouth.
"Uh... huh," she panted slightly, her eyes glazing over with longing. She started to turn in her seat, wanting to show Tara the effect she was having on her, to tell her with her eyes, even if she couldn't get the words past her lips, how very much she wanted her at this moment.
"Great!" Tara chirped, rising in one fluid motion. "'Cause I've gotta run to class right now or I'm going to be late." The blonde dipped her head down to plant a kiss on Willow's cheek, but moved at the last moment so that her lips
grazed the deliriously lustful redhead's jawline instead.
Willow clutched at the tabletop. The ceiling spun.
"See you at dinner," Tara said over her shoulder, smiling sweetly as she sped off.
"O- ...okay," Willow called weakly after her.
When the blonde was out of sight Willow laid her head down on her arms and let out her breath in one long, gusty sigh.
"This is going to be the longest day of my LIFE," she moaned.
~~~
Wow! Tara's head spun with the heady sensation of knowing what she had just done to Willow. The look on the redhead's face! My goddess, it was working perfectly. A little TOO perfectly, she realized, feeling a trickle of wetness make its way down her own thigh.
In penitence for the torture she had decided to put Willow through today, she had also decided not to let herself wear underwear under her drawstring cargo pants. Resultantly, every movement of her legs, walking or shifting in her
seat, caused the soft material to tease her. If my honey is going to suffer, then I will, too, she thought loyally.
Everything was going just as planned. Tara had even managed to dip her fingers into the bottle of naughtiness oil before that little bout of massage therapy, so that she could covertly get some of the stuff onto Willow's skin, making the love spell more potent still while she fanned the flames of the
redhead's desire even hotter.
And yet she had hardly even begun to play with that flame, she giggled to herself. She had much, much more in store for her copper-haired vixen this day. And she'd make it all up to her as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Tonight, if she had her way. Oh, how she longed to have her way...
~~~
Willow turned a long-suffering expression to the clock on the wall in her American Lit. lecture. 11:30. That left hours still, hours piled on top of hours of sitting in classrooms just like this one, cafeterias, dorm lounges, Giles' apartment. Vast, unfurling square yardages of time in which to pine for Tara and her bewitching touch.
Will closed her eyes. Immediately she felt warm breath on her the back of her neck, a mouth closing delicately over the flesh there. A tongue trailing a slow line along her jaw, teeth nipping at her earlobe.
Opening her eyes wide, Will spun in her seat, almost expecting Tara to be behind her, there in her class.
Alas, no blonde, witchy temptress. There was only the girl sitting behind her, staring back with a baffled expression on her face. Willow gave the brunette a forced smile, and turned back towards the droning professor.
With a sigh, she settled her chin onto a curled fist, and doggedly forced herself to pay attention.
~~~
Walking from the cafeteria to Margie's dorm after lunch, Willow nearly walked herself right into the wall as she neared the library. Out of nowhere, the image of Tara had descended upon her, blue eyes seething with lust, dressed provocatively in tight jeans, a white button-down shirt, and leather jacket.
Her mouth open, revealing long canines, Tara smiled carnivorously. Willow could see so clearly in her mind's eye the way the tight denim outlined the blonde witch's curvaceous ass. She could practically taste the skin that was
visible at her chest, the top two buttons of the white shirt having been left open.
Completely caught up in the slutted out fantasy picture of her darling, Willow ducked quickly into the library, wanting to lose herself in the dim aisles of musty smelling tomes, away from prying eyes. If she could just find a corner shadowy enough, private enough- make the moment last just long enough...
Wandering determinedly into the maze of bookshelves, Willow settled on the very deserted ancient history aisle. Keeping her eyes and ears peeled for anyone who might come nearby, she leaned back against a row of the collected
anecdotes of Cicero and slid her hand down over her small, pert breasts, across her belly, and straight down over the soft fabric of her skirt. Moving her fingers in frantic caressing motions, she attacked her clit, pulling upwards and back down, again and again, feeling her wet flesh slide
against the confines of her underwear. She had felt the slickness of the cloth all day, throughout her classes and as she had forced herself, mechanically, to eat her lunch. The wetness sticking to her, inescapably cradling the tender flesh there, was just one more of a hundred such details, constantly reminding her of what she ached for.
Bringing her other hand to her lips, she sucked one finger into her mouth. Wow, she marveled through the haze in her brain, oral fixation anyone? I need... I need...
This morning's dream tugged at her consciousness, Tara's full breasts lathered up with soap, her hands caressing them. Her baby's mouth- lips parted, tongue flickering out to lick them.
"Ohhhh... ggggoddess," Will moaned low in her throat, her pleasure starting to crest.
The silence of her sexual sanctuary was broken then as the very loud boom of a heavy book falling to the ground somewhere alarmingly nearby jolted Willow back into the present moment. Appalled that someone might see her, she
snatched her hands back down at her sides, purposefully, painfully digging her fingernails into her palms as she clenched her hands into tight fists.
What am I *doing*? She marveled at the brazenness of the act, seeming to awaken from a dream. As she craned her head to look around, she was relieved to find that no one was there. At least no one had seen her. Still... Masturbating in the LIBRARY?! For Gaia's sake, what had come over her?
The image came again of Tara clad in sexy leather, the blonde's eyes closed, eyebrows arched in wistful longing, lips trembling, her mouth a perfect "o" of pleasure.
That's what has come over me, Willow exhaled in a long gust. Maybe she could go to Tara's room right now. Just blow off her tutoring appointment, and go to Tara, and finally- finally... but no, she couldn't do that. She had promised Margie. And it wouldn't matter anyways, because Tara was in class right now.
"Oh, Tara," Will sighed the name of her beloved, her tone pleading.
Finding the strength, somewhere, to keep a lid on her desire, Willow reached out to touch Tara's mind. She'd been afraid to all day, for fear of startling the blonde with her own thoughts- what with them being so- well, vividly carnal and totally out of control. But now, needing just the barest
touch of Tara's mind, the reassurance of her love, Will very carefully controlled herself.
As expected, Tara was in class, mostly paying attention. But there in the shadows of her mind, in the smile tugging at one corner of her mouth, were loving thoughts of her own sweet Willow.
Her own sweet me, Willow sighed dreamily.
"I can be good," the redhead told herself firmly. Withdrawing from Tara's mind as quietly, as gently as she had entered, Willow collected herself and left the darkened aisle, heading off to Margie's dorm.
Yes, I can be good for now, she amended. But for how much longer? You know, this being good thing is seeming more and more highly overrated.
~~~~
Tara's eyes lit up with mischievous delight as she realized, through the tenuous link she'd been maintaining with Willow all day, that the hacker had marched herself into the library for a little quality time spent double-clicking her mouse.
That Willow was so unaware of the featherlight presence she'd been keeping in her head was a little surprising to the blonde. One of the more interesting possible scenarios for the day had included Willow realizing just what Tara was up to, and firing back with some mental fireworks of her own. But then the redhead was so very caught up in her desire that it hadn't seemed to occur to her that it might not be originating entirely with herself. It was terribly cute, at any rate, Tara thought. And whether Willow intended to or
not, she was passing along her own pleasure to Tara at the moment as distinctly as if it was what she intended.
Tara gasped as she felt Willow getting close. TOO close!
"Not so fast, sweetness," Tara whispered. Focusing a shaft of thought at a book near where Willow leaned back into the shadows, Tara knocked the heavy tome out of its place and was much gratified, if slightly guiltified as well, to feel the shock that ran through Willow's body as the sound of its fall
rang out.
It had just the desired effect, however. The witch's pleasure cut off, the moment's alarm having thrown her just enough.
And then- uh oh! Incoming! Tara mentally *ducked*, grasping to hone in on what her professor was saying, and suppressing all thoughts of her own libidinous machinations. Willow had reached out a tendril of telepathic touch so gentle that Tara wouldn't have noticed it had she not been lingering
similarly in her love's mind at the precise moment the redhead had decided to access their rapport.
Adding just a hint of love for Willow to color her thoughts, which wasn't hard, since love for Willow always shaded her thoughts, Tara continued to concentrate on the class. She was much relieved when Willow's touch broke off after just a moment, as she was really enjoying trying to keep up the
facade that veiled what she was doing from her sweet girl. Enjoying it entirely too much, she knew, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun.
Surely, though, it would pale in comparison to the fun the two of them would have tonight. At this rate Willow wouldn't last the whole evening- Tara felt sure of it. She'd see how long it would take to lure her in. If the redhead actually made it through the Scooby meeting, Tara would be so impressed, and by then, so ravenously lustful, herself, that there was no way on earth she'd let Willow go back home to her own dorm room to endure an orgasmless evening in Buffy's company.
~~~
Tara went about the rest of her day continuing her subtle, and not so subtle, reinforcements of Willow's lust. She sent phantom caresses and kiss imprints, flashes of their interrupted dreamscape shower, and an endless parade of images of herself, or both of them, in various stages of undress.
She had to hand it to her sweetie- Willow managed admirably after her library sexscapade, keeping plenty focused enough to help Margie tackle the brave new world of physical constants of organic compounds.
Tara had fewer compunctions about playing it up a bit more intensely, however, once Willow was in her next class. Up until this point, she had mostly only sent teases of images- the two of them kissing, languidly touching- she hadn't really gone for it, so to speak, since the shower dream, and even then only briefly. Now she pulled out all the stops and implanted a particularly vivid scene of the two of them making love into Willow's mind.
Lying side by side in Tara's bed, their mouths joined, one of her hands was entangled in Willow's red hair, the other between her love's legs. Her middle and fourth fingers were buried to the third knuckle within slick, soft Willowvelvet, as she alternated between gentle thrusts and a searching,
massaging pressure with her fingertips, seeking that sweet spot. She imagined Willow mounting a similar exploration of her own wetness, fingers trailing through Tara's blonde curls, the two of them locked together in a downward spiral into bliss, their breaths in and out of each other growing increasingly ragged.
She could feel Willow growing dizzy again with desire, and cut off the fantasy in an instant, feeling the witch gather her strength for another one of her tentative visits to Tara's mind. Longing to merely switch fantasies, to let Willow know that she had been having naughty thoughts as well, Tara
almost went that route. Knowing, however, that they'd be seeing each other in just half an hour for dinner, she decided that she'd best cool their mutual ardor just enough to keep this up till the end of the evening, as planned. She was starting to think Will could really tough it out.
Go sweetie, she thought before throwing herself into a long-running daydream dating back to her childhood. Horsies would make for a good place to hide.
As she cantered down an open meadow in her head, Tara felt the 'Willow-Tara all hours network' equivalent of a loving kiss upon her forehead. She sent back warm snuggles.
Willow lingered a moment or two, watching Tara turn into lowly squire on horseback who saved a dragon from an overzealous knight. The blonde heard giggles echoing in her head as Willow extricated herself, returning to her own cranial space.
Tara beamed. That had worked perfectly! She couldn't wait for dinnertime, and found herself staring at the clock, halfway tempted to use a little telekinetic push to send the little hands well on their way faster than normal. Unfortunately, that wouldn't actually shave any temporal minutes off of the little stretch of time still separating her from her Willow.
Yes, it's only a little stretch, she told herself wistfully. Soon enough. Soon enough...
~~~
Happily, the Italian food served in the cafeteria for dinner that evening was much less disgusting than the usual fare. Truthfully, it could have been ten times worse than usual, and the two witches probably wouldn't have noticed what it tasted like. They were far too busy sating themselves with tender
looks, and when the other wasn't watching, lascivious ones.
"How is your dragon doing?" Will asked, breaking a long goo-goo-eyes-full silence.
"My drago- Oh! My dragon!" Tara smiled, wrinkling her nose and tilting her head forward in a conspiratorial fashion. "I fed him to my llama."
"Poor dragon." Willow made a half-silly frowning face, her green eyes teasing.
"Poor llama!" Tara retorted. "He got a dragon-sized tummy ache afterwards."
"Poor llama," Willow agreed, slurping a forkful of spaghetti into her mouth. One long strand left a trail of marinara sauce on her chin, and Tara leaned in with a napkin to wipe it for her, grinning ear to ear.
"You look like the cockerspaniel from 'Lady and the Tramp,'" she giggled.
"I don't want to be Lady, *I* want to be the Tramp!" Willow said in quiet, silly Willowvoice.
"Oooh, feelin' a little spicy talkish tonight, huh?" the blonde teased.
If you ONLY knew, Willow wanted to answer. Will was starting to find herself stuck in yet another Disney type cartoony fantasy that would surely segue any moment now into- Tara looking at her with utter love and devotion, and...
yep, that would be lustful longing.
"Willow..." Tara began haltingly.
"Y-Yes?" the redhead asked, green eyes growing round with anticipation.
"I know you have the Scoobies tonight, but," she paused again, a seductively shy smile playing on her lips. "If it doesn't go too late, do you wanna come over and-"
"Yes!" Will interrupted. "I'd love to." She smiled, and then realized that she would very much like to know exactly what it was Tara had been about to say. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she scolded herself silently. "Sure," she continued, "what- what'd you-?" She left the question hanging unfinished
between them.
"Oh, I just thought we could play." Tara smiled, all innocence.
"P-play?" Willow felt the tingly sensation that had gone to sleep in her tummy awakening with a vengeance.
"Uh huh," Tara answered, still smiling sweetly. "There's a new spell I've been working on, that I wanted to show you."
"O-oh. Play with... spells," Willow said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "That sounds fun."
A cheery "Mhmm," was all she got in reply, as Tara had taken a bite of her salad.
Picking half-heartedly at the rest of her pasta, Will proceeded to play the ol' pushing it around on her plate game.
~~~
Tara didn't know whether to chuckle or viscously pinch herself under the table, watching Willow's glum expression.
I am the meanest girl alive! Meanest of all meanies, she declared loudly inside her head.
I'll make it up to her I'll make it up to her I'll make it up to her.
She looked down at her salad, afraid that if she made eye contact with Willow at that moment, that she'd give herself away. Goddess, will I ever make it up to her, she swore silently, her thoughts returning to naughty places.
~~~
"Shouldn't Buffy be here by now?" Anya confronted Giles, hands on her hips. "I'm ovulating. Do you know what that means?"
Giles flinched, his hand flying his left temple to fiddle with his glasses, the capacity for coherent speech momentarily eluding him.
Cruelty of all cruelties, Anya continued. "It means that Xander and I could be home having sex now! That we SHOULD be home having sex now. Why isn't Buffy here?" The ex-demon punctuated "here" with a violent finger jab
downwards, and began to pace back and forth behind the couch in Giles' living room.
Willow sent a sympathetic smile in Xander's general direction, and then looked down, scuffling the side of her shoe along the carpet. Why am I being sympathetic, she wondered suddenly. At least he's going to be gettin' some
lovin' tonight. She sighed longingly.
Having assembled as requested by Giles, the Scoobies had been waiting now for about twenty minutes for Buffy to show. Xander and Anya at first had been sitting very close together, whispering in each other's ears as Willow tried to find something to distract herself from the two lovers. They were a bit much for her to take in her present state.
As usual, equally unsettled by Anya's forwardness, Giles had been trying, quite unsuccessfully, to engage Willow in conversation. No matter how many times the young witch had dazed off, he pressed on, determined to not lapse
into a silence himself, and perchance pick up on any of the salacious things Anya might be saying to Xander under her breath- things that would no doubt leave Giles scarred for life were he to catch something of them.
"So, Willow," he began loudly. "How are your studies progressing?"
"Huh? My-" the redhead looked up suddenly. "My studies. You- you mean school? Or magic?" Willow asked, with a strange undertone to her voice.
"Ah, either, actually," Giles shrugged, nonchalant. Good God, the Watcher thought, just speak, please! Anything! Talk about anything! "You're still practicing with Tara, then?"
Hearing her name spoken out loud made Willow ache profoundly. "With Tara? Yes, with Tara." Practicing with Tara, it echoed in her head. Will suddenly became engrossed in the texture of the upholstery of Giles' sofa.
"Well, that's certainly nice, you know, to have someone to engage in your favorite pastime with." Giles smiled sagely. "She's quite an accomplished witch, your Tara."
My Tara, Willow sighed.
"I was most impressed with the way she handled herself during the Lowell House haunting," the Watcher continued. "You must be learning all sorts of interesting things from her."
~~~
Back at the dorm, Tara lit the candles, one by one, that she had set out around her room. White ones mostly, votives in little dishes, and enough long tapers to fill her mix-matched assortment of brass, silver, and pewter holders. On the small table next to her bed she placed three large pink pillar candles, sprinkling around and inbetween them a handful of tiny, polished rose quartz pieces. Between the string of white christmas lights that lined her black walls and the small forest fire of candles, her room took on a sexy, soft glow.
"Yeah, this'll work," she drawled a bit smugly, admiring the ambiance. Making one final adjustment to what she was wearing, Tara decided to drop the commando routine and don a pair of sexy, lacy underwear under her cargos.
"And now-" the witch knelt down on the floor, where various witchy items were laid out, "for phase two of Mission Tara Temptress."
Taking a generous pinch of sandalwood incense from a small pouch laying on the rug, Tara sprinkled the stuff onto the charcoal block in her brazier.
"Ignis incendere," she spoke in a slowly measured tone. Fragrant sandalwood smoke immediately began to trickle upwards from the charcoal, which had lit most cooperatively. Grinning, she took this as a good omen, as sometimes it
took a few tries to get the magically summoned fire to take to the briquette. Taking another moment to center herself before she began the rest of the spell, she concentrated on taking deep breaths, one after another. Then she gathered to her all of her love for Willow, focusing on that love and letting it fill her.
Finally readied, Tara took the parchment paper from this morning's casting in her hands, holding it out before her in offering as she turned to face south.
"Spirit of the South, Ancient One of Fire,
Complete the circuit, the circle of this desire;
By the waxing of the maiden Moon,
Let the two be drawn unto one."
Tara dipped her head in a brief obeisance before turning to face the smoking brazier once more, holding the parchment over it for a moment. As she let it slip from her fingers, the spell took immediate visible effect, the paper going up in flames as it drifted downwards onto the smoldering incense.
Watching as it was reduced to ash in mere moments, Tara licked her lips, which had gone suddenly dry. All around her and beneath where she was crouched down on the floor she could feel a tremble building, growing until the fixtures in her room rattled, candlelight bouncing off the walls as they shook. Something inside of her had begun to build as well, a separation of sorts. It was as though she were all oil and water inside, and the two halves were separating. Intense love and longing for Willow, the need for Willow to
be with her, to be *here* rose upwards, her sexual desire for the
redhead pooling beneath that. Immobile for a moment under the weight of her own flesh, Tara felt a break as the longing of her consciousness, of all that she was, split from her physical form, suddenly projected upwards as if her mind and soul were strapped to a heat-seeking, guided missile.
She didn't have to question the object of this rushing, careening seeking. That she was on a one-track astrally projected rollercoaster ride towards Willow was clear. What she would have wondered, had she been able for coherent thought as her mind was hurdling through space and time towards her love, was how exactly this had happened. She'd had no idea the spell she had worked out so carefully from bits and pieces of traditional charms would work so powerfully. If she had been able to consider this, it might have
frightened her. It might have, but the instinctive knowledge that she was on her way to Willow negated all fear.
She understood perfectly where she was headed, indeed, she had always been hurdling towards this place, sometimes slowly, lingering along the way, and at other turns picking up breakneck speed. Her life up until now could have spanned centuries, or mere seconds, but always, moving further along on this journey. All along she had been on a steady course, and now, at long last about to come crashing down into-
~~~
"O-ohhh!" Willow's body rocked with the force of the impact, her mind struggling to make sense of what had just occurred. Tara was with her, as near as if she had exploded- all heat and light and longing- into Willow's mind and under her skin. They had long been aware of each other on many
levels, enjoying the gentle empathic rapport between them, but nothing they had heretofore experienced on those ephemeral trips into each other's hearts and minds could compare to this- this incandescence. Each still remained in
her own body, and yet it was as though they existed in the same shared space, overlapping at every intersection of their minds and spirits. Boundariless, they had been poured into each other. Each breath shared, every sensation, every cell and fiber between them intertwined.
"T-tara!" Willow cried out, her eyes wide, hands clenched so tightly that the knuckles had gone white. Of course this immediately aroused alarm from Giles, and Xander. Anya looked on more curious than concerned.
"Will!" Xander stiffened, reaching a hand out towards the witch, but seeming afraid to touch her.
"Willow, has something happened? Is Tara alright?"
Willow could hear Giles perfectly, could see him speaking to her through a haze of golden light that shone off of blonde hair, delicately flushed skin. Everywhere she looked she saw Tara.
"Yes," Willow managed to reply. "It's okay. She's okay. She just-" she faltered, rising to her feet. "She just," Willow swallowed convulsively, the sweetness of this intimacy almost more than she could bear, "needs me."
The beatific smile on the redhead's face reassured her companions more than her words, as she seemed to refocus for a moment on her surroundings.
"I- I have to go," she announced, her voice urgent but ecstatic, not really looking at any of them. Wasting no time, she made a bee-line for the front door and was gone before anyone had time even to say goodbye.
~~~
Hardly two minutes had passed after Willow's precipitous exit before Buffy finally came sauntering in, smiling in that way of hers she had when having just returned from kicking much evil ass.
"Hi, guys," she greeted blithely as she entered. "Hey, what's up with Wills? I saw her rushing off down the other side of the street and called out to her, but she didn't seem to hear me."
Noticing Anya's obvious irritation, as well as the identical, perplexed and rather shocked countenances of Xander and Giles, Buffy scrunched up her own face, peering quizzically at them all. "Is everybody alright?"
"Ah, yes, Buffy," Giles answered. "We're fine, just a little surprised."
Xander shot a worried expression at the Slayer. "Willow was sitting here, you know, normal- well, normal Willow, and then she yelled out Tara's name all of the sudden, and tore out of here faster'n... well, all things speedy that I can't think of."
"She seemed alright enough-" Giles turned a reassuring smile to Buffy, who had begun to look troubled. "Rather distracted since she arrived here, though, I did notice that. But she did say everything was alright before she-"
"Tore out of here like Wile E. Coyote after the Roadrunner," Xander interrupted, nodding emphatically.
"Something like that, yes," agreed Giles.
"Huh," Buffy frowned, thoughtful but no longer seeming worried. "I wonder what she's up to."
"Well, obviously, she's going to have sex with Tara," Anya finally piped up, ignoring the shocked looks her statement produced.
"Oh, heavens," Giles said, smacking one hand lightly against his forehead, this potential coupling certainly news to him. Good God, what had he just said to Willow, only moments ago about her- her friend? He shook his head as if to clear it of ghastly visions, and let out a hefty sigh. "At this point
this evening, I'm one disturbing mental image short of a-"
Anya interrupted him. "If Willow gets to leave and go have sex, so do we. Xander, you and your penis and I are going home now," she called over her shoulder, already on her way out as well.
Shrugging diffidently, as he was growing curiously used to scenes like this, Xander only grinned, wordlessly following the ex-demon out out of the apartment.
"I need a drink." Giles turned an about face, heading straight for the liquor cabinet off to his side.
"So I guess the meeting is pretty much over then?" Buffy asked, toying with the pockets of her jacket.
"It would appear so," Giles answered, generously splashing his favorite Scotch into a tumbler. "There's nothing urgent to discuss, I just thought we should all touch base-" he broke off, shuddering. "Ah, we can reschedule when it's more, ah- convenient... for everyone." Giles paused to take a sip
of his drink, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the feel of the Scotch slipping down his throat.
"Now, Buffy, before you g-" he began, only to be interrupted for the umpteenth time that night by the sound of someone leaving his apartment.
"Bye, Giles!" Buffy called out as the door closed behind her, on her way to Riley's, no doubt.
Giles regarded his drink, slightly put out. "Well, at least that time I got a goodbye." He shook his head, smiling wryly, and raised his glass high. "To young love."
~~~
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I read it when it showed up on Extra Flamey and I loved it then and I love it even more now that I've read it a half dozen times since.
