Hey, your posts are GOLDEN! I love them, read them, and often steal from them for story ideas. So thank you!
KioNewgo:
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I always love Faith-Tara friendships, I really think they would have been close on the show.
I agree with you and you’ll have more of it – promise!
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Pfft, is Willow blind? Can she not see that A) Cordy is only trying to hurt Tara and B) Tara is, well Tara? Much better than Xander.
What can I say? You’re right all the way! 2 for 2 so far! Thanks for caring!
Zampsa1975:Quote:
I truly hope that Willow very very soon realize that Tara-loving is much much better than pining after Xander.
Totally agree and I think Willow is listening, stay tuned! Also, more Faith to come!
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I truly truly hope that Bitch-Cs true nature is soon publicly revealed and she is sent back home without pay…
It’s almost like you don’t like Cordelia . . . Yeah, she deserves something big!
Laragh:Quote:
Since you totally responded to my begging for a quick update last time, now I'm shamelessly begging for quick update AND !!!! Yes, I'm double-teaming you.
Because this fic is awesome and I need my girls together!!!
I hear and obey, a faster post than before and a very unusual beginning! Never doubt the power of prayer!
Leonhart17:Quote:
they're so cute, but I hope they both can muster up the courage to be honest with each other soon!
Great minds think alike – see posts above, your request granted with love!
So what’s with the Cordy bashing? She’s such a nice girl!
LonelyTara:Quote:
Willow sighed with relief. She had been sure that Cordelia was going to humiliate her by telling everyone the truth about how she’d begged Xander to write on the back; but for some reason Cordelia was helping her.
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Which is a sign of the apocalypse. How can you not know that something is terribly, terribly wrong? I despair of any adults catching on to her horrible bullying, but maybe Faith will help them take revenge?
That was funnier than anything I’ve written so far – hilarious, rockin’ Robin!!!
And what a brilliant idea to involve Faith in potential revenge . . .
Thank you for loving the ending, their shining beauty and what they make together. AND thanks for letting me be “your dear kitten buddy” – I love it!
Vampyregurl:Quote:
Go Tara!
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- you gotta fight for what you want, and maybe she'll find out the truth w/o any help from Cordelia, because if it's that way then you know it won't be nice for either Willow or Tara.
You’re so right, gotta fight for your love.
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More!
Coming, O divinest of diva’s
SMGOVAN:Quote:
Please go easy on the angst and give us some Kisses and gay 'puppy' Love soonish !
I hasten to serve your will! Thanks for writing, K & G PL coming!
Finey McFine:Quote:
Ugh...lot's of angst!!!!!! Let's hope our girls get it together enough to talk SOON!!
Your wish is my command, O mighty Tech Goddess!
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I sure hope that 'Mistress Finch' doesn't take this wrong and re-assigns Willow to...God forbid Cordelia!!
Are you in league with the Finchmeister? How did you know she’d do that very thing!
Cyteach:First, thank you for writing and staying with this; your support means a lot!
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On a whole, while I love the sweet and sticky 'first time in love' feelings that you've captured so well in the previous chapters, I'm also very much digging the angst...
I may fail you on the angst meter, Laragh and LonelyTara are harassing me!
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Have I mentioned lately that Cordelia is a mega-Bitch? No, well she is.
We’re going to have a group counseling session to help you people bring the love for Queen C!
Laura:Quote:
More angst is a-happening and while I'm not against the occasional angsty plotline I really hope these two start talking soon, because it is painfull to watch.
First Willow with her extreme embarrassment and ignorance of the progression of her feelings, then the misinterpretation of Tara's reaction to her possibly having a boyfriend.
It is rough and it will get better, I get teary writing it sometimes, I really do!
Glad you liked the horse scenes, there will be more and also more Faith!
More is definitely coming, I went faster because I got more feedback so thanks for yours! (Hey, I never sit on finished copy, but feedback does inspire me to work harder!)
Wimpy:Quote:
OH, Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Last update you stuck the knife in us, but this time you just kept twisting it. Oh, the pain. Oh, the angst. Loved it!
You and Cyteach are two of a kind angst junkies!
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Now I believe you promised more research and I really, really hope they get this huge talk done and the misunderstandings behind them soon so they can get back to the poinky - tingly - creamy goodness. Soon please?
Okay, there is a scene inspired (o.k. STOLEN) from one of your posts, you’ll see . . .
Title: How I met your mother*
Author: Ariel
Email:
blaziak@yahoo.com
Feedback: All feedback welcomed, specific input appreciated.
Rating: R for an occasional swear word and poinkyness/wetness discussion
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but I love to take them for a ride!
Summary: A/U before season 1, the summer after Willow's freshman year with a large dose of Queen Cordelia at her bitchy best and teen-aged angst.
*no connection to the sit-com of the same name
Thoughts are in italics.
Part 10: S.O.S., help, and a matter of Faith
“Tara. Tara Maclay, are you with us?”
Tara jerked upright in her seat, staring into Mrs. Finch’s irritated face, amazed to see that she was still in the morning counselor’s meeting.
“I asked you if you needed anything for the riding program. Willow already gave us an update on the different skill groups.”
Tara paused, trying to get her mind off Willow, and noticed Faith out of the corner of her eye. Faith was pretending to clean the same table over and over and was clearly waiting for Tara to keep her word about inviting Faith to be part of the riding program.
“Uh, yeah. I need Faith for the r-riding program.”
Willow gasped, feeling as if someone had knocked the wind out of her. This was Tara’s program, hers and Tara’s. Tara had needed Willow’s help and they had created the program and its presentation together. Now Tara hadn’t even bothered to discuss the change with her!
Suddenly Cordelia leaned over from the next chair and slid an arm around her. “I’d be glad to have Willow help me with the crafts program!”
Mrs. Finch was ready to move on, “Fine. We’ll try it for today. On to swimming—“
The meeting ended a few minutes later. Tara saw Willow with Cordelia’s arm around her waist. “W-Willow! I still want y-you in the r-riding program.”
Willow pretended not to hear, but Cordelia turned to her as they walked by, “Funny way of showing it! Have fun with Faith!”
Faith hurried over, smiling. “Hey, T. I’ll get this dump cleaned up, load the dishwasher, and be out in an hour, okay?”
Tara patted her shoulder absently, “Sure Faith. See you then.” She turned to find Willow, but she and Cordelia had already gone.
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Cordelia was apparently sympathetic, giving Willow the task of sorting out the drawers of the crafts cabinet rather than working with the more challenging campers. This gave Willow plenty of time to be quiet, brood, and regret the fun she and Tara used to have running their own program together.
She remembered Tara looking at her that first night, the intensity in those amazing blue eyes and how it had made her feel like a beautiful woman.
She remembered brushing the shining gold of her hair, feeling Tara’s kiss start at her wrist and go singing through her body.
She thought of Tara who had trusted her with her tears and who offered tenderness and encouragement in return. She dreamed of their embraces and the sweetness of their laughter together.
She didn’t know how to fix the lies that had been told about her and Xander without losing any chance she had of getting Tara back.
She remembered Tara’s crooked smile and felt an icy blast of sheer terror that she was on the verge of losing Tara, losing her love, because of the photograph of a dead dream. It was dead now; loving Tara had taught her the truth about her friendship with Xander.
She took a quick, sharp breath and the beads that she was sorting blurred in a rush of tears.
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Tara handled the first riding group by herself, missing Willow’s arm around her waist as well as the younger girl’s talent for organization, but at least she made it through.
Faith arrived just before the next group and proved herself a capable if erratic teacher. Tara assigned her to advanced students and kept the more challenging ones to herself; Faith wasn’t patient with ineptitude or fear. On the positive side she made an effort to watch her language. When Devola called her out for using a naughty word, Faith happily used ‘Great Golden Gorillas’ for the rest of the lesson.
Tara smiled, it wasn’t fun like it had used to be but at least they made it through. Finally it was lunch and Faith prepared to put on her apron and serve while Tara met up with the kids and Willow.
Willow stood in the food line, glaring resentfully at Faith’s breasts which were much bigger than hers.
She even wears mascara, Willow thought bitterly, recalling how she had almost blinded herself when she tried putting it on herself.
Then her eyes traveled down, to the serving pan, distastefully eyeing a piece of toast covered with flakes of indeterminate brownish meat and a brownish sauce.
Faith saw her look and leaned in to scoop a slice onto her spatula. “Shit on a Shingle, still steaming! You like?” She made as if to drop it on Willow’s plate, but Willow jerked it back and glared.
“What’s the matter, Red? Don’t you like plain cooking? Shit on a Shingle has a long history—“
“Faith Lehane!” Mrs. Finch had come up behind her silently and was obviously not happy.
Faith winced, then pretended that she was tossing her hair back instead.
“I believe that the menu on the blackboard says, ‘Corned Beef Surprise’ and NOT that alliterative and disgusting name that you provided! And why are you not wearing your hairnet! Hygiene, Faith, hygiene!”
Willow smirked and moved down the lunch line just as the rain hit.
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The rainy day plan was simple, the dining hall became a group assembly point and a variety of board games and books were provided, and group games were organized. If the rain continued after dinner, then movie night would take the place of the campfire.
For Tara, cancelling the riding program was a chance to write her love sonnet to Willow. She had never written a sonnet before, but her mother had come from the Kentucky Mountains, bringing a lot of the old ballads with her and teaching them to Tara.
So Tara was comfortable with older language, and Shakespeare’s English was not too far a stretch. As to the type of sonnet, Tara only knew one, her mother’s beloved “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day.” So first Tara wrote it from memory then she read the poem over and over again, learning its rhythm, rhyme scheme, and feeling it inside. Then she thought about Willow, how much she loved her, how trapped she felt trying to say it with all the rules around them which she thought were every bit as hard as the rules of the sonnet. Her eyes flashed, that was the idea! Then she absorbed the language again and worked, thought, struggled, feeling occasional sparks of inspiration until it was finally done. She carried the paper with her everywhere she went then did a final polish, read it over about twenty times, and copied it in her nicest handwriting so it would look more grown up. She continued to sit in the dining hall, unfolding and re-reading, and folding it back up until she was able to get up the courage and decide to ask Willow to hear it right after dinner.
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Meanwhile, Willow was determined to get some advice. She didn’t really know anyone that well, but Jules was older and she’d helped out so that Willow could open the computer lab. Besides, she seemed like someone who would understand about liking another girl.
She asked Tara to stay at the table with the kids, and caught Jules out on the porch before she entered the dining hall.
Jules looked at Willow, who was dancing from one foot to another.
She obviously either has to take a pee or has a problem. Jules had already heard from Carly after the counselors’ meeting, so she knew what was coming. She sighed,
nothing is crazier than baby-dykes in love.
“What’s up, Willow?
“It started out with Tara’s breasts and my untrainable breasts, I mean my training bra’s failure to. Never mind!”
Willow continued in full babble-mode and Jules found it funnier and crazier with every minute.
Jules clenched her jaw, locking it shut to hold back the laughter.
This is too good, too fucking hilarious to blow now. She gazed solemnly back at Willow.
“Have you done any uh research to address these concerns?”
Willow’s eyes lit up. “Absolutely! We did the first two breast tests. We tested for uh breast detection and we did the hotness examination.”
The what? Incredible, gotta find out more. Jules rocked back on her heels, doing her best to capture the pompous tone of her biology professor. “Please describe the processes in detail.”
Willow gave a concise definition, only babbling when she tried to hide the fact that she was insecure about her own breast size.
Jules listened with apparent patience, barely able to continue holding back her laughter, “Have you done the third breast test?”
Willow leaned forward eagerly. “There’s a third breast test! Ooo, what is it?”
“Well, uh,” Jules paused, it was a lot harder to keep from laughing when you were talking, she breathed deeply to calm down and continued, “This is the Pinky Pointy Panty Dampness/Humidity Test.”
Willow looked skeptical. “That’s kind of a funny name.”
Jules nodded, “That’s the layman’s terms; the actual test is in Latin and I always forget it.”
Willow nodded seriously. “Can you elaborate on the experimental protocols?” She straightened, feeling proud that she remembered the proper terminology from her chemistry class.
Jules turned her snort of laughter into a believable sounding cough and continued. “Well, the uh scientific question under discussion is: if someone else draws a circle around your nipple, do your panties get wet?”
Willows jaw dropped. Then she clutched Jules' arm, her face alight with hope. “Tell me everything!”
Jules coughed again. “Uh, this was developed by uh Carmichael and Gantt who—“
“Two t’s at the end of 'Gantt'?” Willow was scribbling notes, Jules felt that she was going to explode with laughter.
“Uh huh. This was back in uh 1951. Of course to get valid scientific data you have to consider the volume of the vagina in defining relative humidity and ensure that no panties are worn.”
“But you said it’s the ‘Pinky Pointy Panty Dampness/Humidity Test.”
“Right. Right. Well, the first part of the test does not require scientific instrumentation. If the panties are damp, then you proceed along the full scientific uh path and use the instruments. If they’re not damp, then you stop and that’s it.”
Willow nodded, adding additional details to her notes.
She looked up at Jules. “Is there any scientific value to starting without the instruments and just doing the first test?”
“Absolutely. I uh have personal experience, a great deal of uh personal experience.” She paused, “With my research paper for biology!” She breathed a sigh of relief at coming up with the biology bit.
“So who should I get to do the test with me?”
Jules turned beet red.
Gotta do this one right! “Well, the test is uh inter-disciplinary with the subject of psychology.”
Willow looked confused.
“So for it to work right you need someone you like very much, someone who is special to you.”
“Tara,” breathed Willow.
Jules smiled. “Excellent! Uh, an excellent idea.” She breathed another sigh of relief. “Well, my uh work here is done. Carry on with your advances . . . into the field of science!” She ran off to find Carly.
“Wait!” Willow yelled after her, frantically waving her hand, but Jules was gone. “You didn’t tell me if dampness was a normal result!”
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Dinner time, consisting of hot dogs, baked beans, tossed salad, potato chips and fresh fruit was about halfway through when Carly came in from the porch, spotted Tara and hurried over.
“Hey, one of your kids locked somebody in the bathroom stall.” Tara sighed impatiently, shoved her poem under her plate, and ran to the rescue.
Meanwhile, Cordelia had been watching Tara working on her paper and realized that the paper was important. She walked by casually then snatched the paper quickly and scanned it.
This is good, she thought,
and Tara handed it to me on a plate. She giggled,
well under a plate anyway!
Faith was entering with a second pot of baked beans, pushing the kitchen door open with her shoulder when she saw Cordelia take T’s paper. She planned to set the pot down and see if she could snatch it back somehow, but Cordelia took the mike.
“Hi Everybody. This got lost so I’ll read it out loud and see if anyone can claim it.” Cordelia held the paper up and started reading in a loud, clear voice.
“Shall I express my love for you in song
And rule my heart in proper rhyme?”
An instant later Tara sprinted through the dining hall doorway, having heard her sonnet to Willow blaring across the yard from the speakers. She ran with fists clenched to stop Cordelia who was having too much fun to notice.
“Let me cast off this form, that passions strong
may rule the minutes of unloving time.”
Faith took one look at Tara charging across the hall and saw that the blonde had murder on her mind. Without thinking she stepped in front of her to slow her down, entirely forgetting the pot of baked beans in her arms.
Tara smashed headlong into the pot with Faith behind it and the two of them crashed to the floor with a fountain of baked beans landing on their heads. Tara didn’t seem to notice, she attempted to struggle to her feet, slipped, and started crawling on her hands and knees towards Cordelia. Cordelia, meanwhile, took one look at Tara’s furious bean-covered face then dropped the poem and ran.
Tara stuffed the poem in her pocket and finally came to enough to notice that she and Faith were receiving a standing ovation from campers and counselors for their spectacular bean dance. She and Faith stared at each other, covered in beans and brown sauce and Faith started laughing. Tara joined her a moment later and soon the two girls were leaning on each other, laughing hysterically. They stood, slipped, fell, attempted bowing to their audience and essentially skated into the kitchen on bean sauce.
Willow walked in from her talk with Jules, drawn by the commotion and was just in time to see Tara’s and Faith’s graceful exit.
Faith turned on the water in the double sink and rooted underneath for a sponge. She rinsed the sponge and started sponging beans off Tara’s face and shirt. “Fuck, T. I thought you were gonna ice the bitch!”
Tara shook her head ‘no’, still laughing. “I w-wanted to for a m-minute, believe me! Wow, those beans w-were like Vesuvius!” She dissolved into laughter again.
Willow walked up to the kitchen door, standing on tiptoes to stare through the little window and there was that girl.
That cleavage-y sex-bomb is laughing with my Tara. And now she’s using a sponge and Tara isn’t telling her ‘no’, she’s just laughing. Willow pressed her face against the glass, careful not to push the door inward,
and now Tara’s all poinky. Sudden fury boiled up in her heart, if anyone was entitled to sponge beans off Tara’s breasts, it was her! Without thinking, she shoved open the door, walked between them and thrust her hand out, demanding the sponge while favoring Faith with a murderous glare.
Faith’s eyes widened, she put the sponge in Willow’s hand and started moving away slowly with her hands up. A smart girl knows when to back away from an enraged redhead and Faith was that girl.
Willow glared up into Tara’s face. “What were you doing with Faith?”
Tara looked confused. “D-doing? I was cleaning up.”
“Is THAT why you’re all poinky?” Willow pointed to Tara’s breasts.
Tara looked down. “I’m ‘poinky’ because the w-water’s cold. She snatched the sponge and swiped it across Willow’s breasts. “Voila! P-poinkyness! Are you happy now!”
“So you and Faith aren’t—“
“No! I wrote a s-sonnet to try and g-get you b-back. I w-was going to ask you to l-let me r-read it to you after dinner.
Willow felt a surge of joy. “Really? You did all that for me?”
Tara was sullen. “Yes. B-but you’re probably t-too busy with your b-boyfriend to care!”
“He’s not my boyfriend. I wanted him to be.” Willow blushed, feeling the humiliation of that awful moment. “I mean he kissed me on a dare when he was six and we did share crayons and my Barbie doll and he’s the only boy that I could talk to and he’s my best friend, so I thought it was love.”
Tara stared at her.
“Then I pictured him kissing me and I couldn’t.” Willow swallowed, her green eyes enormous, “All I saw was you.”
Tara gripped Willow’s upper arms and met her eyes. “So why did you d-dump me last night?”
Willow’s face was red with humiliation and tears sprang to her eyes, but she was not going to risk losing Tara a second time. She met Tara’s eyes, lifted her chin, and said, “I wet the bed when I was about to kiss you and I didn’t want you to know.”
“You wet the bed?” Suddenly Tara’s grip on Willow’s arms became a caress, pulling Willow into a tender embrace. “Baby, w-was it pee, did it smell like pee or s-something else?”
“Something else.”
“And it wasn’t your period.”
“No.”
Tara tucked Willow’s head under her chin and her voice was gentle. “Sweetie, that w-was a woman’s love juice. Wh-when a woman gets excited, she makes a sweet nectar in her body. It m-means she might let someone inside her to m-make love.” She kissed the top of Willow’s head. “You don’t h-have to let someone inside you, but it means you’re a w-woman and h-have a w-woman’s feelings.”
Willow pulled back and looked trustingly into Tara’s eyes. “Did you make nectar for me that night?”
Tara nodded, blushing. “I didn’t do it on p-purpose. It j-just happened when y-you rubbed my tummy.”
Willow nodded, warmed by the understanding between them. Then her eyes widened, “So you wanted me?”
Tara dropped her eyes shyly, “Yes.” Then she raised her eyes to Willow’s, her voice a whisper, “I still w-want you, but only when you want the s-same thing.”
Willow swallowed. “Right now I want to kiss you.” She looked artlessly up at Tara, “Do you want the same thing?”
Tara’s eyes shone and she nodded.
They leaned towards each other and embraced. Then they bumped noses once and their lips met in a gentle kiss. They pulled back, breathless with wonder and excitement, then kissed again. This time opening up their mouths to each other for the sweet touch of an exploring tongue.
Then their embrace tightened and they felt the soft press of their breasts against each other’s as their kisses grew bolder and more passionate.
Meanwhile Faith, who everyone knew was rude, crude and entirely without a heart stationed herself right outside the swinging kitchen door, turned her back to the small window, and made sure that their first kisses were uninterrupted and private.
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