Part: 1/?
Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com
Feedback: - Gulp – Yes, please.
Distribution: Just let me know.
Spoilers: All episodes including 6x05
Rating: PG I’m not expecting the sex and violence till later, but I figured I’d gear you up for it This IS a W/T romance – so all the usual same sex love warnings are in effect. If you are offended by same sex relationships, please don’t proceed.
Disclaimer: All Characters contained here-in are owned by and products of the genius of Joss Whedon and Co. (minus Laslo, who’s genius is limited anyway) I am NOT making money on this and am generally harmless and poor.
Dedication: The next few episodes going on through till the end of this year are going to be rough. I know it’s easy to become doubt-filled, depressed and downright agitated. Keep the faith, everyone. W/T are two great characters and I have to believe that Joss is very aware of that. Special thanks to Tommo.
Awake
(First Cycle: Enneagram Part 1/?)
By
Mariacomet
Loss is a part of life. In winter, colors tremble and then fade away, only to be awakened in the spring and made new. Nature was an ancient law: life, death, rebirth. This was the circle. She believed in this procession. No one had an invitation to interrupt this dance, using magic to open doors that should be left closed. Or worse: using such blessings out of simple laziness. It was against all she knew.
This was the path of the woman she loved.
Willow. It made her smile just to whisper the word. It was a cry of victory in her heart. One word standing as a symbol that dreams could be more than dreams. Reality could surpass even the infinity of imagination. Such was love, a place where the mind and what could be held there was inadequate. Willow. It was by definition impossible to describe that which was unconditional. All comparison placed fences on what Tara felt. This feeling between her and her lover was a creature of flight that soared over all fences. Pegasus. Magical.
A box within each of us holds the duality of who we are. Good and bad. Weak and strong. It is made of heart, but the heart is deceived by perception. It lives in the soul, but the soul is a place of turbulence. Guilt. Beliefs. Hopes. Our essence searches, wanders our whole lives until someone finally, totally, sees. Words often fell between the two witches weakly. Awkwardly. But that part of Tara which was timeless, knew Willow and so too did the searcher in Willow know Tara.
Offering the heart without thought of consequence, is the first step toward offering everything. If the quiet acceptance of this gift was the end, it would have surpassed Tara’s hopes. Yet Willow; the intelligent, good natured, nerdish girl she had once been and the strong capable women she was becoming, had laid down on love’s pedestal, entwining herself with Tara. Holding her. Being held by her. Taking everything. Offering everything. Yet even this was not the end. Love is an alter created by two people, and the process of loving is a daily offering at that alter. It was one thing to see and another to understand. They insisted their love be total, and so they prodded, and poked and rifled through all the stories and all the thoughts. Until there were no more words.
The blonde witch had been reborn and lived in the soft breezes that those in love knew. She had blossomed and was aware of it, of the new confidence shimmering in her soul. The way which she held her head higher and was more prone to look people in the eye. No more hiding behind her wispy hair, lowering her head to the world as a whole, just hoping not to be noticed. People noticed her now, and though she still was not comfortable with too much attention, she no longer dreaded it.
The Wiccan stared at the moon, now disturbed by the way the woman she loved was casually beginning to abandon what Tara held sacred. The blonde shook her head. She had been policing everything but the actual issue itself. She had realized this after waking up alone yet again, her lover having been awakened much earlier by some desperate need to complete the study of a spell.
Grief was a powerful thing, and it was where Willow’s absorption began. The loss of Buffy Summers had devastated her friends. Tara was familiar with loss, and had expected healing to take time. On some days Willow could talk about it, and if tears came, then Tara’s arms were there. But most days…most…the hacker resolutely refused to discuss anything other than the business end of her friend’s death. Willow had been the one to pick the coffin. All of them had gathered to decide what should be written on the headstone.
During the weeks afterward, their daily gatherings at the Summers home or the Magic Shop were held in relative silence. They would share dinner in much the same way. Xander reacted to Buffy’s death by keeping those he loved close by and with-in sight whenever possible. Xander became the encourager of any and all group activities – including training. ‘Let’s all go,’ became his motto.
Willow, on the other hand withdrew as much as she could. This was not easy. Xander’s ‘group’ state of mind demanded her presence, as did Dawn continually looking to her and Tara as parental figures. The hacker was allowed escape when she was fixing and maintaining the Buffybot. Or if she was trying to find spells to assist with patrolling. Willow shouldered the leadership of the Scoobies bravely and without compliant. Someone had to. All of them had turned to her. It was the right decision and it seemed to be working out fine.
Fine except for in the middle of countless nights when the young woman would whisper,” Tara, don’t ever leave me.”
Just fine…save the amount of Willow’s ‘alone time’ to work with magic and Buffybot was ever increasing. At first, Tara had just wanted to give her lover some space. People dealt with grieving in different ways. Best not to push. A frown creased her features. Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt. She’d even begun making excuses FOR Willow. When Dawn needed help with her homework, and Willow was too busy considering spell components. When Xander wanted her and Willow to go on a double date with him – ‘Xander, she’s not feeling well.’ A week ago, when Buffy had returned, she’d decided the talk should wait because everyone was trying to readjust. Their friend’s return had changed everything, yet Willow was still…Absorbed. Distracted. Distant.
Tara hadn’t wanted to bombard her love with…Excuses. Always excuses. Anger began to stir with-in her. Gaia, she had watched all the after school specials that everyone else had as a kid and she STILL had ignored all the signs of trouble. Stupid. But it was okay. It wasn’t that bad yet. How bad could it be after a few months? She’d just sit down with Willow and they would work it out. She could always talk to her partner about everything.
Thinking of this reminded her of her mother. Sarah Maclay had often talked quietly with her, holding her hand and sharing secrets. This was in defiance of Tara’s father, who was content as long as the house was to his satisfaction and no mention of magic was ever made. Everything at home was expected to be spotless. All meals were to be prepared by the time he arrived home, and to his liking.
His daughter and wife should be seen and not heard. Strict control, he insisted, was the only way to control the demon. He would explain quietly that he was her father and he loved her, even while strapping her to the bed just near midnight on each of her birthdays. Tara, the patriarch repeatedly, would also have to find a suitable husband and he too would assist with her problem.
His means of punishing when his wife or his daughter didn’t fall in line was not to yell. It was almost eerie the way his tone never rose. Nor did he raise his fist. Donny, her older brother, was more prone to such things. However the strict resolve of her father, that things should be handled in a civilized manner had swayed Donny from letting his anger loose more then once or twice. In the mind of the patron of the family everything was given or taken away at his discretion. Even the right to go to school. Or the right to leave the house at all. Or to eat with the family. In one incident when Tara had been very young, her father had gagged her and forced her to exist voiceless for several days. It was shortly after that the stuttering started. All of it, her family insisted, had been for her own good. Because she was bad. Evil.
At home, much like anywhere else, she had taken to keeping her eyes lowered. Her thoughts were unspoken. Libraries were churches to her. If she could read on the forbidden subject of magic, so much the better. She found steel within herself when it came to witchcraft. A way of believing – an understanding of nature and life and how it all tangled together. She clung to her beliefs her mother died. Later, it was the exception to Tara remaining content with her place as a wallflower, and it saved her.
Facing her father just after she had turned 18 had been like facing a dragon.
“I’m 18, you c-c-can’t keep me here.”
“All right,” His cold eyes had looked at her with distaste. “You get this foolishness out of your system. But you’ll see I’m right. Someone like you is never going to be accepted in the world. It’s not your fault, but they won’t understand that. We’re your family and we love you – no matter what.”
The biggest dream she had when coming to Sunnydale was that she would be able to quietly pursue learning, and perhaps find a job after graduation where she could expect much more of the same. Yet something in her refused to surrender so easily to this destiny. Perhaps it was the long gone echo of her mother, telling her that she could be anything – that she was special, and would one day do special things.
A door to the room opened and there was the only person able to make her heart flip with a smile. Willow. With a tiny pout in place.
Tara didn’t want to ask. That look of her partner - determined, distracted, frustrated was one that she knew well. Her love had been tinkering with another spell, and it wasn’t coming out quite the way she wanted it to. The former wallflower was beginning to dread hearing about yet another spell that her beloved was toying with. These stories had been coming more and more often from Willow. At first Tara had noted it as enthusiasm, simply that. Yet now it was beginning to worry her.
“No luck,” Willow announced and sat down heavily on the bed, looking up to where her lover stood by the window. Willow’s partner felt her body tense. “I don’t understand it, we’re just talking about converging colors. Granted in the retina…but it’s pie easy stuff. I was able to change the colours of light when I first starting practicing.”
“Have you eaten yet?” A distraction tactic.
The red brows of the other witch drew down a moment in thought. For a moment, the young woman at the window felt a smile flirt over her lips. She loved that expression. Like a little girl trying to come up with an explanation to a big question. “Just because I can’t actually remember when I last ate does not mean that I haven’t regularly and all healthy like. Because I agreed that I would do better at that – and me forgetting would make my beautiful, talented, wonderful girlfriend upset. And she’d make that grrr, bad Willow face that I hate. And have I mentioned how beautiful, talented and wonderful you are?” The funny little smile followed the ramble. Hopeful to be forgiven, eager to make amends. You know you love me, that expression whispered. It was true. Tara had forgiven a million small indiscretions just based on that one solitary look. Tara had always possessed a forgiving nature. It was unfathomable that Willow would ever do something that she’d be unable to forgive.
“Actually, the Grrr Bad Willow face was because you’ve haven’t been sleeping. The ‘Willow needs to be punished face’ is because you haven’t been eating well either.”
It was leer time for Tara’s love. “Well actually…the ‘Willow needs to be punished face’ I don’t mind so much. ”
The conversation fell into a quiet rhythm. “You know what I mean…you’re always hunched over a book lately.” Tara sighed at herself. Subtle nudging wasn’t working and she knew better.
As usual, Willow deflected the warning. “Baby, if you don’t want me to be all distractedy you are going to have to stop talking about hunching and punishing.” The joke didn’t quite get the huge smile or returned flirtatious look that the hacker had been looking for. She continued, much more contrite. “I know I’ve been study gal, lately. I just want to make things easier for Buffy. She’s been through a lot.”
Buffy. Tara had broken all her own rules, had supported and assisted Willow in the darkest of all magicks. Tara KNEW better. Yet she had let herself be convinced. Willow had seemed so certain. Despite every internal voice shouting at the blonde witch about how dangerous it was, when Willow had needed someone at her side proposing the idea to the Scoobies, Tara had been right there. It had been for the greater good. The slayer was needed and her death had been unnatural. Yet Buffy, even a week after her return, still seemed like a shell. Going through motions, and not really with them. It had been for the greater good, hadn’t it?
“We just have to keep showing her she’s not alone.”
Willow’s eyes lowered and her thoughts began to churn. “She won’t talk about it. She’s doing the whole martyr Buffy thing. She just wanders around looking all stoic. All I’m asking for is one smile. It’s been a week, it’s not like I’m being greedy.”
The pain was naked in her expression and Tara could not allow it to lie there untended. She cupped her love’s face. “It will be okay.” A nod. They shared a soft kiss. “Don’t give up on her. You didn’t give up on me. You can do this.” Again the lovers drew together and their mouths met, the kiss a raw sharing of both pain and love.
Willow drew back finally, taking in a shaky breath, an unsteady smile in place “Wow. I have a beautiful, wonderful, talented girlfriend AND my own cheerleading section.”
“Rah Rah Sis Boom Bah.” The former wallflower answered deadpan, then her lips rose in a crooked smile. The woman Tara loved took her hand. It was instinct to allow this contact. Holding Willow’s hand. Willow was one of the most physically affectionate people that Tara had ever known. Save, perhaps her mother. Meeting the hacker four years after her mother’s death had been like finding a cool, cool stream in the middle of the desert. “Are you telling me you like my pompoms?”
A laugh. “Pompoms definitely a plus.” The green eyed cherub nipped at Tara’s lower lip. Tingles travelled down Tara’s body, her eyes closing without her willing them to. Willow’s body was so soft, and touching her made her hungry and sated all at the same time. Desperate, unable to get enough – yet having all she needed, all she could ever need. Tara became lost in her love for the other woman, unable to express how she felt in mere words. Wanting to show her. Needing to show her. Willow could affect her like this at will. Deeply. Completely. It had been easy to fall in love with the red headed ball of energy and light. The shy college student hadn’t even tried to stop herself. It was the only way she knew. Go with her heart, follow her instincts – without hesitation. She had never let her father conquer that part of her. She would not allow herself to become afraid to love or afraid to care…and when she did, she would treasure it. Hold the feelings up to the light. Let them consume her.
The desire was so hot that it melted her usually disciplined thoughts into a rumbled, limp tangle by just a touch. Just a smile. Tara wondered if it was possible to go mad for want of a kiss.
“Hey, do you feel like helping me with the spell, it’s been a while since we…”
The withdrawal was sudden enough to make Tara blink. A brief time ago, nothing in the world could have forestalled the inevitable rumpled sheets and afterglow cuddling. It made all of Tara’s current misgivings rush to the surface. She and Willow needed to talk. SOON. All right, she thought. Tonight. After dinner. The thoughts were stern. It was a promise and Tara never broke her promises. Not to anyone. Not to herself.
“No.” The word was too quick. “I…I think I’ll make a food run. Mr. Giles could use the break from cooking.”
“We could use a break from his cooking.” Willow pointed out. Giles had many talents but apparently his culinary finesse extended to about three dishes, which he had proceeded to make over and over in various fashions.
“Do you want to come with?”
“Baby, I really want to try and get this spell’s kinks worked out.”
She traced her thumb over the center of Willow ’s palm. “So you’re…too busy for the smootches at all the red lights game?”
“We almost caused an accident last time we did that. Though, no one invited Mr. Cadillac to stare.”
The former lifted her brows. “You were the one that wanted to take the long way home.”
That look usually sent a spiral of heat through Willow’s stomach. Or so the hacker had once said. Tara saw a momentary struggle of emotions in the mischievous eyes that she loved she much. “Um…honey…Rain check?“
“Rain check.” The blonde said giving her girlfriend an indulgent smile. It was just ONE car trip. Nothing to panic over. They didn’t have to be attached at the hip for Gaia’s sake. Still, they were SO going to have that little talk tonight. “Rain check, indeed.” She muttered to herself.
Tara considered this as she borrowed the keys to Giles’s car and hugged Dawn. When Buffy had first died Willow and her partner, as well as the other Scoobies had talked about what was to happen with Dawn at length. In the end, Tara suggested that the young teen was the final voice on the subject. The youngest Summers asked where Willow and Tara would be. It was that simple. They made her feel safe.
She climbed into the driver’s seat and steered out of the driveway almost feeling guilty about how good it felt just to get away. It would give her some time to think. She realized how much she had burying her feelings and instincts with regards to Willow as of late.
She had glanced in the rear view mirror several times while negotiating the busy streets.
It was a cold chill on the back of her neck that inspired another glance while the car was idling at a red light. The witch had a strange unsettling feeling. Still it had been a long few days. Maybe it was her imagination.
That was her last thought before something clamped down on her shoulder. Her eyes flew to the rear-view mirror and Tara was shocked to find a dark haired, bearded man now sitting behind her. He smiled slowly.