I'm liking the story so far and I'm eagerly awaiting the next part.
Caro
I'm liking the story so far and I'm eagerly awaiting the next part.
Caro
Anyway I am really loving the story ... hope to see another part soon!
Great job!
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"She practically has 'genuine molded plastic' stamped on her ass.
i know it's been six years and i'm sure a lot has happened since tara left and returned but i was a bit taken aback by her anger and manner. i could never see her shouting at Buffy like that or willow especially. i'm sure you have your reasons for it and i'll understand it more as the fic progresses i'm sure. i mean, the tara we saw in wrecked didn't get mad at willow, she didn't shout, but she did glare and did stand up for herself by walking away. and i know she shouted at Willow in tabula rasa but right away she backed up. she might explode for a second but she seems to want to control her emotions. i'm not sure she'd ever throw anything at someone she knows or shout and get in their face. but as i said i'll have to just wait patiently for another great update.
i would have replied earlier but i'm catching up with fics and life stuff is in the way.
very much waiting for another update. happy holidays.
Loved the last update and a wonderful use of rain to get Tara into a state (ie cold and wet) where I was ready to assume immediate comforting or at least a fireside huddle but then glad to see you were bolder than that and launched Tara into that rage. I can see what Rane means about the anger but it whilst this is Tara it is a Tara who has been without her love for 6 years, without explanation, comfort or reassurance. To suddenly find out from a Christmas present... for someone else no less... I can buy into the Tara anger entirely. Anything else in the world and I think that she would be more restrained... but dealing with discovering Willow that way in the circumstances you have set up. Perfect for me.
And if you dare follow through on your comment in the notes and make this your last as well as first fic... well I'll cry*S*
Katharyn
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She's my always
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"Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind." -Glory
I'm with Katharyn on this. I can relate to where Tara is coming from - a hurt that has been boiling inside her for so long could well come out as an outburst of anger. Keep it up Kerrison - I hurt for Willow and Tara now but I look forward to the reconciliaton and smoochies to come.
Amantium irae, amoris integratio est.
(The anger of lovers is what brings love together.)
Since the Christmas Faire was WONDERFUL enough to gift me with a laptop this year, I hope that writing will be quicker since I can do so from the comfort of my BED. *G*
Smoochies are coming. With the angst between these two, you'd be surprised at how difficult it is to time the kissage correctly.
But, of course, that's why I have such a wonderful Beta reader like Jessie. (Send much thanks to her!!)
Kerry
Time to break out the extra flameys to save those women from darkness.
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"Eat lot's of applesauce, preferably fed to you by attractive young lesbians." Amber Benson
I think its perfectly natural for Tara to be angry at Buffy for not telling her; she's spent the last 7 years worrying and wondering about Willow's whereabouts (lots of w's in that sentence!)
Looking forward to the next instalment!
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"To let this love survive would be the greatest gift that we could give"
Emily Saliers (Indigo Girls)
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Willow’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, as did Tara’s. When they were somewhat acclimated to the shadows, Willow felt a shiver run down her back.
“Was that you?” she whispered to Tara, wondering if the blackout was intended magic or just Mother Nature’s eerie timing.
“No,” Tara replied in a voice equally as hushed. She lifted her hand and murmured an incantation, the room suddenly filled with a yellowish glow as the logs in the fireplace were instantly lit and a roaring fire born. “But that was.”
Willow stepped back a step, eyeing between the beautiful woman before her and the magical fire in her hearth.
“Don’t,” was the fiercely protective word uttered from the redhead’s lips.
“W-what?”
Willow frowned, pointing to the fireplace. “Don’t use magic in my home!”
“You don’t practice anymore?” Tara asked, somewhat shocked.
“Not in six years,” Willow hissed, seeming uncomfortable with the mere thought of magic in her home. “Don’t bring it past the threshold, Tara,” she growled. “I’ve kept it out of my life this long, I can’t let it in now.”
“But-“ Tara started, cut short as Willow stepped on her words.
“No!” she said firmly. “No magic. Even though I know you and …I lo- and everything else, no magic. Not here.”
Tara nodded, an obviously stunned look on her face.
“Sit,” Willow said with a sigh, gesturing again to the couch and moving away from it briefly towards a small hall closet off the main entrance. “I bet the main road’s flooded,” she commented as she rummaged around the shelves of the closet.
“Great,” Tara muttered under her breath, utterly sarcastic.
Willow stepped into the room again, her arms full of blankets. “You can have the guest suite. It’ll just take me a minute to make it up,” she said simply. “There’s more tea in the kitchen.”
Tara watched her ex lover head up the winding staircase, arms laden with linens, and she sighed, hanging her head as it swam with too many emotions to name. Sipping the tea, she mulled over several things in her head until a gentle clearing of the throat interrupted her.
“If you’re tired, you can head up now,” Willow offered softly. “Otherwise I was going to have some dessert. You’re welcome to join me.”
Tara nodded, standing up and realizing that not only was she still in soaking wet clothes, the quilt that Willow had wrapped around her was thoroughly drenched. “I’m sorry about your blanket,” she said, hanging it near the fire to dry. She stood near the flickering light, warming her chilled hands.
“A few hours there and it’ll be fine,” Willow said simply, lighting a candle from the fire and using the candle to light a hurricane lantern situated on the mantle. She took the lantern with her to the kitchen, allowing the yellow luminescence to show the way. “There’s organic carrot cake or fruit salad,” Willow offered as she opened the refrigerator quickly and removing both items as to not waste what chill the icebox still had.
“I… I don’t … either one is fine,” Tara stuttered, hoping her voice carried into the kitchen. Her anger had left her and in its place was the same stuttering girl who had cried on Xander’s shoulder earlier that same morning.
Willow scooped two servings of fruit salad into wooden bowls and then put both desserts back into the fridge. She grabbed two forks and headed back into the living room. She stopped near the fireplace, holding the bowl out to Tara. The blonde allowed her trembling hands to take the item, their fingers brushing together for mere seconds.
Willow sat on the floor, her back against the couch and her slender legs stretched out in front of her. She watched Tara stare into the fire until the blonde turned and sat on the couch behind her.
They ate in awkward silence, broken only when Willow began to chuckle as she speared something in her bowl with a smile. She held it up, showing it to Tara causing the other woman to smile sadly.
“Big pineapple?” Tara questioned.
Willow nodded, offering it to her friend. Tara hesitated for only a second before snagging the succulent fruit off the offered fork.
“Funny the things you remember,” Tara uttered when she had finished the piece of fruit.
“I remember everything,” Willow whispered, picking up a strawberry with her fingers and popping it into her mouth. She continued, speaking around the fruit in her mouth. “All the firsts we had together. All the things I did to prevent more firsts.”
Tara nodded slowly, allowing the admission exactly the reverence it deserved. “We never d-did this,” she said softly.
Willow looked up, catching Tara’s reference to eating fruit in front of a roaring fire. “No…no, I guess we never did,” she admitted with a small chuckle.
They sat in a silence that was far more amiable this time as both of them allowed thoughts to pound through their head.
“How long are you in town?” Willow asked, her words hesitant.
Tara paused noticeably before speaking. “I p-packed enough for two days,” she said softly.
Willow nodded. “If you’d like to stay longer…” she said, allowing the sentence to dangle so as to not push her guest.
“Thanks,” Tara acknowledged simply.
“Should I ask what happened to?” Willow questioned, her voice dancing around the subject of Tara’s sudden arrival.
Assuming you can call six years sudden.
Tara sighed, nibbling on an orange slice. She wished she had a glass of wine to make her senses dull the pain of being so near to Willow and yet so far away. “I don’t usually stick around for Christmas… I do a fundraiser at the annual winter solstice gathering. But this year I didn’t go. So I was home helping Spike unpack the b-boxes around the Christmas tree and we opened yours. I knew the minute I pulled the bottle out,” she said softly.
Willow nodded, remaining silent.
“It smelled like lavender and r-rosemary. And you,” she added hesitantly.
“Do you wish you didn’t know?” Willow questioned, staring at the half empty bowl in her hands.
Tara frowned, giving the question the respect it honestly deserved. “No. I’m glad I know.”
Willow smiled slightly, lifting her eyes somewhat more towards the fire.
“And I’m glad I didn’t kill Buffy,” Tara chuckled.
“What?” Willow asked, turning sharply towards her friend, her voice almost screeching.
“I ..um.. got k-kind of irate. I thought everyone knew about you and just d-didn’t tell me,” Tara admitted, her expression rather sheepish. “I almost punched Spike and then stormed to the Magic box and blew up the punching bag in the training room an then threw a bottle at Buffy’s head.”
“Wow,” Willow muttered, gazing on Tara with eyes of both amusement and adoration. “Very butch of you,” she teased.
“I feel bad,” Tara admitted. “Now I have to go buy her a new punching bag.”
Willow nodded. “Since it’s my fault…do you want me to come with you? There’s an exercise store in town and he’ll ship it to Sunnydale.”
Tara paused for a second. “Yeah…when the roads are c-clear. Going to town would b-be nice. And you can show me the is shop you run.”
“Own,” Willow corrected gently. “I’d like you to see it. It’s all witchy with the herbs and all… just minus the whole magic-portion of the witch-life,” she teased.
“Lots of wanna-blessed-bes?” Tara queried, offering her mango slice to Willow who was a much bigger fan of that particular fruit than she.
“Tons,” Willow said, taking the fruit and smiling her thanks before popping it into her mouth. “But you’ll hear no complaints from me this time; they’re the ones that keep my business growing.”
Tara smiled, riffling through her bowl for another slice of mango and offering the treasure to her…your what, Tara? She’s not your lover. Not your girlfriend. And after all the words you yelled at each other within the last few hours, can you even call her your friend? She sighed, unable to think of a suitable title. Of course, that particularly negative thought was pushed from her mind when the fruit was gently taken from her fingers by a pair of careful teeth attached to wonderful Willow face.
She smiled shyly, reassured only when Willow placed her hand on Tara’s knee as a lever when she stood.
“I think you’ve been in those wet clothes too long,” Willow said, her tone motherly. “There should be some hot water left if you want a shower. I’ll run out and get your bag out of the car,” Willow offered.
“You’ll get soaked. It’s still p-pouring out there,” Tara rebutted.
“I’ll live,” Willow said simply. “The guest room’s at the end of the hall on the left.” Willow turned and walked out the front door into the torrential downpour.
I can’t tell if she’s the same or not, Tara thought to herself, gathering both dishes and a nearby candelabra to help her through the unfamiliar house.
“Accden-“ she began, cutting herself off as she realized she was about to use magic within Willow’s home. She sighed; clearing her mind of the half-finished spell she walked to the fire and lit the candles the old-fashioned way.
After putting the bowls in the sink, she headed towards the stairs and began to conquer the flight upwards as she heard the door open and the spattering of water droplets hit the floor.
Willow chuckled at her own appearance, shaking her head to rid the water from her red hair.
“I was already wet,” Tara commented, extending her hand to take her own bag.
“I know. And you would have gotten sick. Better me than you.” Willow replied as she handed Tara the bag. When they reached the top of the stairs, Willow gestured to a door recessed in a small alcove set away from the main hall. “That’s my room. If you need anything, come and get me. I don’t…well, this isn’t the Rosenburg bed and breakfast, so if I’ve been a bad hostess and forgotten anything, let me know?”
Tara allowed a small smile to grace her face. “I’m sure it’ll be lovely, thank you. I didn’t intend to impose like this, Willow.”
“No, you didn’t. You intended to find out if I was alive and, if I was, beat me into a bloody dead pulp,” Willow said, knowing she had hit the nail on the head by the sheepish look on Tara’s face. “But I think that we’re both a little too emotionally drained for that right now. Can we pencil that in for sometime tomorrow afternoon? Maybe right before lunch?”
Tara sighed, looking at the floor.
“I-“ the blonde woman started, her words failing her before they were even uttered. She was forced to look up only when a tentative finger was placed under her chin, guiding her eyes up to meet deep green ones.
“You are a hell of a lot stronger than I am. Goddess knows I would never have been strong enough to come pound on your door. And just for showing up tonight, no matter how this turns out, I will always thank you,” Willow whispered, taking a small step forward and kissing Tara respectfully on the forehead. “Let’s get some sleep and hope breakfast gives us a better out look on our lives.”
Tara smiled sheepishly. “Breakfast?” she queried, having assumed she’d be fending for herself after causing such a ruckus.
“Buttermilk blueberry pancakes sound ok?” Willow asked quietly, having stepped out of Tara’s personal space and more towards her bedroom.
Tara nodded. “Extra syrupy?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Willow replied with a smile and nod before ducking into her storm darkened bedroom.
***********
Note:
Thanks to everyone for the feedback. Taking the time to write can mean the world to an author; please don't trivialize what you have to say- it's important to us.
Secondly, I'm recovering from a nasty bout of URI (upper Respitory infection) and I wasn't able to write for about three or four days... ick. My muse tends to leave me when I'm sick-- who can blame her? Either way, what that means is that updates may be slow in coming since I like to keep a few chapters ahead of what I post, at least. I hope everyone can bare with me here as I get back on my feet and head back to school in a week or so. Starting a new semester is going to take some massive time, too, so please -again- keep patience in mind for those of us authors/bards who are students as well as writers.
-Kerry
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Kathayrn
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She's my always
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fiat justitia,ruat caelum.
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''I am, you know''
''What?''
''Yours''
''Those of you who fall into my good graces will come to know me as Maggie. Those of you who don't will know me by the name my T.A's use and think I don't know about: The Evil Bitch Monster of Death''.
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"Eat lot's of applesauce, preferably fed to you by attractive young lesbians." Amber Benson
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"Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one." she muttered... ~ Four Months After by Capt. Murdock
Title: The Shadowy Bridge
Rating: Right now, PG. I've already promised smut to someone, so... I'll warn you when it gets there.
Summary: Set six years in the future. Our girls find their way back to each other...sort of. Kind of. Jessie, is that a good summary?
Thanks: This is my first Buffy fic. Probably my last, too. Who knows? Either way, thanks to my kick-ass beta reader Jessie...as well as all the other many many people who gave it a critical readthrough. The time and opinions were very much appreciated.
Notes: Feedback would be very welcome. I'd honestly like to know your opinions-- positive and/or negative. All thoughts are good.
***********
***********
A chill stirred her from her restless slumber and Willow brushed tangled red hair from her eyes. Geez, she mentally groaned, glancing at the nightstand clock. She had slept, as usual, only a few hours before being pulled awake. This time, it wasn’t the ache in her heart that caused her to wake, but rather the innate knowledge that something in the house was out of place.
She stood, pulling her flannel shirt tighter around her chest in an attempt to fight off the night’s chill. Her footsteps downstairs were muted by the socks she wore to keep her toes warm in her often drafty old house.
A figure sat on the sofa, gazing at the fire with a lost expression on her face.
“What are you doing up?” Willow managed to ask around a yawn.
Tara looked up, having not heard the other woman enter the room. “I… it was really c-cold in that room. The power’s back on but the heaters in there won’t work,” she admitted.
“I’m sorry,” Willow said. “I didn’t even think about that. You’re umm...actually the first one to use the room since I bought the house. I never even tested them,” she admitted sheepishly.
Tara shrugged. “It’s ok. I like the fire, anyway. It’s a d-different kind of warmth.”
Willow nodded, reclaiming her spot on the floor in front of the couch near Tara’s feet. “Cute pj’s,” she said with a small grin. “Hello Kitty.”
Tara smiled and glanced down at her shirt where the white grinning cat’s face was emblazoned. “Yeah…kinda reminded me of you,” she admitted sheepishly.
“I like ‘em,” Willow admitted, resting her head near Tara’s knee. “Speaking of kitties, how is Miss Kitty Fantastico doing?”
Tara smiled at the question. “She’s all big and cat-like now. She…I still had one of your shirts when I moved and…well, she kinda uses it as a b-bed. I think it still smells like you and she misses that.”
“I miss her, too. I bet she’s changed a lot,” Willow replied, knowing that while they were talking about their kitten, at the same time, they weren’t.
“Yeah. She looks almost the same but…much more grown up now.”
Willow started to nod when she felt a gentle tug at her hair. She felt the strands move again and recognized the feeling as her hair being toyed with. Quiet for a minute or two, she reveled in the feeling of Tara’s silent affection.
“I always thought of getting my hair cut,” Tara whispered, playing with strands of Willow’s red locks. “And something would remind me of how you used to love to t-tangle your fingers in my hair and… I couldn’t do it,” she uttered.
The redhead opened her mouth to speak, closing it quickly and realizing she probably looked like a fish gasping for air. “I’m glad you didn’t. I like your hair long. I just wish you wouldn’t hide your beautiful face behind it,” she said honestly.
Tara blushed, her fingers sliding free of Willow’s hair. It was a self-conscious act, Willow knew.
"Why did you really come here, Tara?" Willow questioned, the light of the fireplace casting interesting shadows across her face.
Tara didn't answer immediately. "Can't we talk about that tomorrow? After I'm done b-beating you to a bloody-dead pulp?"
Willow sighed, nodding. She truly needed to know where they stood with each other but maybe Tara was right. It was late and they were both too tired to deal with something that deep-hitting right then. It would keep.
The redhead started to rise to her feet, stretching slightly as she did so. "Why don't you go sleep in my room?" Willow offered. "I feel bad having you sleep on the couch because my house is defective."
Tara smiled. "I'm kinda comfy actually."
Willow smirked. "You think I'll be able to sleep knowing that my guest is sleeping on the couch because I'm a bad hostess? Who do you take me for, Tara? The anti-Martha Stewart?" She put a somewhat mocking frown upon her face, making Tara giggle almost inaudibly.
"If you feel that g-guitly about it," Tara started. Her demeanor was that of someone about to get rejected and preparing her psyche for the worst. "You can always join me down here ...in...in front of the fire."
Willow regarded her for a moment, lifting an eyebrow skeptically. "I..." she started before taking a deep breath and shutting her mouth from any stupid words which might burst forth. She nodded and retrieved the blanket from where Tara had hung it over near the fire, setting on the floor and waiting until Tara had taken a spot, somewhat hesitantly, next to her.
"No flaming Tara tonight," Willow said quietly, reaching across Tara to pull a corner of the blanket up, out of the reach of mischievous sparks from the fireplace.
Her hand was caught by sturdy, if shaking, fingers, and held. "Willow hand," Tara whispered, her words almost catching in her voice, but making it past her fear by only pure determination.
Willow smirked lying on her back, noting how Tara kept firm hold of the captured hand. The two women lay side by side for a minute, neither speaking.
Tara rolled onto her side, facing the fire, away from Willow and taking the prisoner-hand with her. Willow had been forced to roll with her to keep her arm from being effectively ripped off. Her body lay close to Tara's, almost spooning the other woman from behind. She felt her fingers being toyed with for a second before she had the nerve to speak.
"Tara?" she whispered. "Are you... ok with ... I mean..." she stumbled over the words, not sure exactly how to ask if she was invading the woman's personal space.
Willow's search for the right phrase was cut short when she felt a fleeting, gentle kiss caress her knuckles before her hand was tucked against Tara's Abdomen. The redhead slid forward a bit, closer to her friend's back, and inhaled the scent of her ex lover. A small tear worked its way down her own cheek and she heard Tara sniffle.
"I know, baby, I know," Willow whispered, her words no louder than her breath. As she spoke, she pulled the other woman a little closer, each needing to know each other's presence as they slept.
**********
Note: I know I don't post as often as some authors, but I hope I can keep you all following the story.
Psst...Rane, you're makin me look bad, here!!
Everyone send mucho thanks to my beta reader, Jessie. WIhtout her I wouldn't be writing this at all.
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as for your update, i love the fire, i love the ending (willow hand) and i love the martha stewart comment. it's like that with an old lover you haven't seen in a long while, touching and being with them takes presedence above everything else (catching up on the times) as you try to reconnect with them. it actually just happened to me while i was home for the holidays. sniffle...
i give you my weevil faerie otter princess permission to not read my fic until you've finished yours! deal?
You think you're going to be able to keep me from reading your fic??? I think not, my dear.
Of course, I'm still waiting for that email from you..*ahem*
Besides which... I need to find out lots of things in your story. Does Willow go riding? What's Buffy think of their relationship? Demons on vacation? How rude!!
quote:
Originally posted by Kerrison:
Thanks: This is my first Buffy fic. Probably my last, too.
Can I just say that would be a damn shame.
I can't believe how good the Christmas fic fairies have been to us. Especially since we're more naughty than nice.
*blush* Did I just say that? Bad bad Kerry. Very bad.
*G*
quote:
Originally posted by Kerrison:
But...Autumn, I like my girls naughty.
Well then you've come to the right place. Now get busy making our girls naughty.
Lovely stuff!
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". . . but children robbed of love will dwell on magic"
Barbara Kingsolver - Animal Dreams
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"Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one." she muttered... ~ Four Months After by Capt. Murdock
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